#with a note from his mom telling buck that the boy is his kid

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Vice.

Synopsis - Everyone on the team has their vices. It just so happens that yours is sat across the table looking at you.

Pairing - Luke Alvez x Female Reader

Warnings - smut. cursing. luke has a gorgeous filthy mouth.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 1.6k

Author's Note - my baby my baby my BAAAAAABY!! I have been in love with this man for years and years and I can't believe I haven't written more for him. if you ever have a luke request, please send it to me. love him with my whole heart <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

Vice - a weakness of character or behaviour; a bad habit. "Cigars happen to be my father's vice."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Italian food."

The entire team laughs, faces illuminated by the warm yellow lights in Rossi's backyard.

"Yeah, no shit," Tara retorts, looking pointedly at Dave. "Doesn't take a behavioural analyst to figure that one out."

"Look, you asked the question, I answered."

He reclines back in his chair and takes a sip of his wine, looking around the table.

"Okay Tara, you go. What's your vice?"

She chuckles to herself before confessing.

"Super steamy period romances."

Everyone bursts into more laughter.

"Wait, what?"

"What kind?"

She's clutching at her sides as she answers.

"All kinds! Movies, books, TV shows. If it has corsets and sex, I'm in."

Your cheeks are aching from smiling so hard. You're not sure who first raised the initial question, but it's really allowed you to get to know each other a little bit deeper.

"Okay, enough about me. Simmons, what's your vice?"

"I have six kids. I don't have time for a vice."

He sounds serious, but he's grinning as he says it.

"I think the six kids are a result of an old vice."

The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, several glasses of wine almost obliterating your verbal filter. Your team howl with laughter.

"No comment," Matt wheezes, wiping tears from his eyes. "Golfing is a safer option now. No risk of unplanned surprises."

"I had to change mine after kids, too," JJ chimes in. "I used to smoke cigarettes after bad cases, but I can't anymore. What kinda mom would I be if I lectured the boys about the dangers of nicotine, and then got caught chain smoking in the backyard?"

"A cool one," you shrug, yelping when she jokingly punches you in the arm.

"What about you, hotshot?" she asks, the whole team turning their attention to you. "What's your vice?"

You desperately avoid any eye contact, trying to play it cool. You just know Luke has that glint in his eye as he looks at you pointedly.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Oh, fuck," you groan, fingers threading into the dark curls of his hair.

"Shhh, honey," he murmurs, lifting his head from between your legs to look up at you. "You and I both know how much trouble we'll be in if we get caught."

He dives back in, tongue gliding and flicking all the spots that make you keen. You slap one hand over your mouth, the other grappling to hold onto the leather beneath you.

"Bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?" he taunts, condescension dripping from his tone. "The thrill turns you on, doesn't it, baby? The risk of getting caught only makes you hotter."

You whine against your palm, bucking your hips to urge him to keep going.

"What do you want, princesa? Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you."

He loves this. Loves hearing you beg. Loves having you relinquish complete control and let him take care of you. Loves that he can turn you, the most independent, headstrong woman he knows, into a whining, needy mess.

"Fingers," you croak out. "Make me come, Luke, please."

He grins up at you like the cat who got the cream, self satisfied smirk never leaving his lips.

"Okay, baby," he soothes. "Since you asked so pretty."

He slides two fingers into you with embarrassing ease, crooking them in the way he knows you like.

"Oh, sweet girl, what would the team think? Huh? What do you think they'd say if they saw you like this, letting me finger fuck you in the backseat of my car in the parking garage?"

He's muttering lowly, under his breath, but you hear him clear as day. He loves to patronise you, tease you, get under your skin. In everyday life, he treats you with the utmost respect. In bed, not so much. You love it.

"Couldn't even wait until we got home. Poor baby, just had to take the edge off."

His eyes meet yours, like a magnetic force. His gaze is so dark, it has you squirming in place.

"It was the shirt," you choke out. "Fucking shirt."

"Hmm?" he hums against you, the vibrations pulling you closer to the edge.

"Your shirt," you moan as his thumb finds your clit. "Makes your arms look so, fuck, so big."

Oh, you shouldn't have said that. You can practically see his ego inflating.

"I'll let you wear it tomorrow morning, if you want. If you can still walk by then, that is."

You're right on the precipice, orgasm almost within reach. If he keeps talking to you like this, you'll be at the finish line in no time.

"Oh, I've got a better idea. Why don't I fuck you in it?"

The idea makes your head spin, sending you straight into your climax. Sharp white heat licks up your spine, curling your toes and arching your back. Your grip tightens in his hair and he groans, low and honeyed.

"That's it, baby," he's murmuring. "Ride it out. Good girl."

You finally relax, melting into the leather seats. Luke crawls from his position to lean over you, resting his body onto yours. He kisses you gently at first, then dirtier as you come back to yourself.

"My place or yours?" he whispers against your lips.

"Yours is closer."

"Mine it is."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Hello? Earth to Hotshot?"

JJ nudges you playfully, grinning at you from ear to ear.

"What you thinking about?"

"Nothing," you stutter, clearing your throat. "Nothing at all."

You make the mistake of lifting your gaze from your lap. There, staring at you from across the table, is Luke Alvez. You almost wish you could slap that smug smirk off of his face.

"Come on, girl!" Tara hollers.

"Everyone has a vice," Spencer begins. "You have to. Especially in our line of work. We have to have some kind of outlet. Some sort of release."

Release. You almost choke on your wine, patting yourself on the chest.

"Yeah, no. I, uh, I like British reality TV. I guess that's mine."

The team laugh, everyone teasing you relentlessly. You risk a glance at Luke, and regret it immediately. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip and chuckles, knowing look in his eye. You're petrified for a moment that he can read your mind.

"Okay then Spence. Your turn," you prompt, desperate to take the attention off yourself.

Spencer starts rambling about quantum physics, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

Relief.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Yeah, this is what you needed, isn't it baby?"

You try to respond, but Luke's huge hands wrapped around your throat are making it a little difficult.

"My poor sweet girl, just needed some relief huh? You sick of being in charge all the time? You want me to take care of you?"

His tone is low and melted, the timbre of it settling into your bones. All you can do is whine and nod your head in response.

His hips repeatedly snap into yours, his body melded to you. He's completely smothering you with his weight, but you don't mind. You like the closeness.

You lean up to kiss him, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth. He's swallowing your moans, leaning his head forward to rest against yours.

"Fuck, you sound so pretty," he groans. "You gonna come for me, mama? Give me what I want?"

"Yes," you breathe. "Yes. Please, baby. Please."

"Who am I to deny you when you beg so fucking sweet?"

The hand that's not around your throat snakes between your sweat slicked bodies to rub circles on your clit, throwing you over the edge.

Your back arches, hips writhing on Luke's soft cotton sheets. You're squeezing him so tight he's seeing stars.

"Oh fuck baby, oh fuck."

Luke goes boneless, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. He releases his grip on your throat and wraps both arms around you, pressing you together impossibly closer.

"We get better at this every time," he chuckles.

You smack him jokingly, before bursting into laughter. Soon, the two of you are crying happy tears, revelling in the afterglow.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"I'm gonna get a refill. Anyone need anything from the kitchen?"

You stand from your seat and make your way inside, taking note of the replies.

"I'll help you," Luke says, rising to join you. Neither of you see the way everyone at the table looks at each other knowingly.

You're barely through the door when you feel him against you, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He presses a kiss onto your shoulder, murmuring in your ear.

"I'm your vice, aren't I?"

You shake your head, breathing out a laugh.

"In your dreams, Alvez."

He nips at your neck before continuing.

"Admit it. I'm your dirty little bad habit that you just can't kick."

You turn in his arms to face him, running your fingers through his hair.

"Talk the talk all you want, Luke. You and I both know this works both ways."

Your quirk your brow at him, and he leans in and kisses you chastely.

"Old habits die hard, huh?" he grins.

"Wouldn't have it any other way," you smirk back.

Outside, the team decide they'll continue to let you both lie to them for a little while longer. It's more fun for everyone that way.

#luke alvez fic #luke alvez fluff #luke alvez x you #luke alvez smut #luke alvez x reader #luke alvez #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fic #criminal minds #adam rodriguez #luke alvez x reader smut #luke alvez x y/n #luke alvez imagine #the bau #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x oc #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut

[matan4il]

Buddie 611 meta

I LOVED that the ep showed us how Eddie wasn’t doing compressions on Buck because someone instructed him to. No, he just couldn’t stand by, couldn't let someone else try to bring his partner back to life, so he announced he was taking over, fuck anyone who would try to stop him. No one even tries to, they wordlessly acknowledge Eddie as Buck's mad with worry partner, much like how in 315, the team treated Buck while Eddie was in danger. And then Eddie shocks Buck’s heart back and gets his pulse going again. Eddie literally kept Buck’s heart going, and then he was still so distraught that he yelled at the medical staff (even though as a medic, he knows it’s pointless), “Do more!” 'Coz that’s what Eddie himself was doing, he stepped in and did more than he was asked to, a continuation of us having seen him doing exactly that in 610 as well, when he didn’t wait for Bobby to decide what to do to help Buck, Eddie charged up an electrocuted ladder he was just thrown off of. Because when it comes to Buck, he will always do more. ~~

The significance of the bond between them is also shown when Eddie is the first flashback Buck experiences within the coma dream, the first lifeline to the real world. That’s continued when the second flashback is to the tsunami, where Buck saved Chris. However, Eddie and Chris aren't quite present in these flashbacks. Buck’s subconscious is at war with itself. The Diaz boys are this powerful connection to the real world (much like Buck and Chris were Eddie’s back in 315, as I tried to demonstrate in this gifset), but the coma dream shows the power of childhood trauma and how much we can be trapped by the desire to fix it. The whole dream contrasts Buck having parents who are loving, who want and appreciate him, with everything bad that would happen if he weren’t with the 118. As the dream goes on, the price keeps getting higher, yet Buck still struggles until the very end with letting go of the illusion that his parents love him, and the sense he himself can be fixed if they do, like he’d then finally feel good enough. That’s why, in a sense, Eddie and Chris have to be more absent than present for the coma dream to be seductive. Because if they’re fully present, if he truly engages with their coma versions and remembers the family unit he has outside the dream, the balance would be tipped over, the battle would have been decided before Buck had a chance to learn his lesson.

That’s why he only hears what happened to Eddie, he doesn’t witness it firsthand, and why when the dream's seductive nature is failing, suddenly Chris is there (despite his coma version not being in LA) to tempt Buck into staying. Even then, walking away from the dream version of Chris while telling him that he’s not real is the only thing Buck says he'll always feel guilty about. ~~ 

I just gotta include a small note here on how much I love the progression we’ve had from Bobby saying in 101 that while Buck calls him “pops,” they’re not a family, through Buck telling TK aloud that Bobby’s basically his dad (in the crossover) to Bobby finally admitting this is true for him as well. I’ve pointed out this season repeatedly (like in my 610 meta) that the show’s dealing with questions of fatherhood, including the question of biology in that context, and this ep was no different, yet this truly was one of the highlights for me when it comes to this theme. I love how much Buck and Bobby mean to each other. ~~ 

Buck’s mom saying “your kids” and Buck being confused until she clarifies it’s not his actual children, it’s his students, then his disappointment, that’s one loose end that the ep didn’t wrap up, because that is a continuation of the whole sperm donor situation (with Margaret once more being at the center of confusion on whether Buck is a dad or not). This one is only going to be really addressed once Buck fully deals with his role in Connor and Kameron’s baby’s life, something he can’t properly do until he also faces his role in Christopher’s, a role that this ep really emphasized. No other kids were by Buck’s bed, not even May who has free access as a legal adult and who has now admitted she knows Buck is her step dad’s other kid. Chris needs his Buck in a way that no other firefam kid does. ~~ 

Which brings me to the heart wrenching fate we (and Buck) learn the Diaz boys have suffered in his absence. I have mentioned countless times in my meta posts how important I believe 204 was to Buddie. How critical Buck’s decision to step into Eddie’s mess with him was. Not once, but twice in that ep, first when he helps Eddie by talking to Bobby about Chris spending the day at the station with the 118, then when Buck introduces Eddie to Carla. I have always said Eddie was very attracted (and not just physically) to Buck from the start, but Eddie’s Christopher’s dad first, so he never would have been able to fall for anyone who doesn’t also love his son as much as he does. In other words, I’ve always thought the heart eyes Eddie gives Buck at the end of the Carla introduction scene, that was the moment when he was gone. And now we learn how meaningful Buck himself knows that was. Without that happening, his subconscious just knows Eddie’s parents would have succeeded with their threat of getting Chris away from his dad, leading to Eddie completely falling apart. Buddie's tale is a love story, and this coma revelation is basically the show telling us Buck’s subconscious already knows this. ~~ 

Eddie’s reactions in the real world are also a reflection of how important Buddifer’s little family unit is to all three of them. Keep in mind, even with his therapy, Eddie is still a reserved guy, right? He normally remains calm in the face of adversity, it takes a lot to rattle him, he doesn't easily get to the point where he falls apart emotionally. When he does in this ep, he only allows himself to when his son is looking away. And even then, he just can't go on answering Christopher's questions about Buck's state. So it highlights how important Buck is to Eddie, when the latter DOES fall apart. When he jumps in to take care of Buck on the gurney as it’s wheeled into the hospital. When he shouts at the medical staff. When he looks so wrecked at the hospital, close to what previously it took weeks of insomnia to do to him. When he can’t look at Buck's comatose body or stop himself from crying while he listens to Chris speaking or bring himself to be strong for his son and answer him. And of course, when the reserved Eddie goes against hospital regulations and parental common sense (to keep your kid away from disturbing sights), sneaking his son in to see Buck. But Eddie does it because he gets it. When Chris says he needs to talk to Buck, Eddie knows the full weight of this, because it’s his truth, too. Both Diaz boys need their Buck to wake up. So everything Chris is saying, all the comfort he’s offering, along with the insistence that Buck MUST return to them? He’s speaking for Eddie as well. ~~ 

I also liked that Buck realized during his coma dream two truths that seem, but are not, mutually exclusive: that he does have a family worth going back for, but that ultimately, he’s returning for himself. He’s not trying to please anyone else, he’s not trying to get anyone else’s approval. His adoptive family matters to him, even his bio parents who have failed him repeatedly matter, but at the end of the day, he’s not going back because his loved ones do or don’t need him, do or don’t accept him, do or don’t approve of him. He’s going back because he loves them and he wants to be with them. And that ties in with another thing we see in this ep. 

Bobby describes the coma dream as a world where Buck can fix everything. Buck says not all, seemingly implying he couldn’t bring Bobby back from the dead. But that’s not actually true, is it? 'Coz the coma world is Buck’s subconscious, it can be altered in whatever way he wants. Bobby can be there and talk to him despite being “dead” which means... he’s not really dead, not in the way that makes death so tragic, depriving us of our loved ones. Chris can be at the hospital, despite not being in LA and not knowing Buck. It’s a coma dream, there are no rules! Buck’s subconscious is king! And we know how important it is for Buck to fix things, Eddie pointed it out in 504, and we saw a callback to this just last week. The climax of this ep is even set against the musical backdrop of Coldplay’s Fix You. But this trait stems from Buck feeling like he needs to fix things, to be the hero, in order to be worthy of love. In the coma, Buck realizes he IS loved. And therefore, he doesn’t need to fix EVERYTHING in order to make a difference and be deserving of love. He IS enough, exactly as he is, limited fixing possibilities and all. That’s how he gets to choose both his loved ones and himself in coming back to reality. ~~ 

Oh, can we talk about the heart drawings scene from 514 and how it relates to this ep? I recently answered an ask about it, and pointed out I think Eddie’s heart has been Chris for years now, and for a long time, it was only him. But that scene showed how, thanks to the way Buck has been there for both of them along the years, helping, healing and loving them, Eddie’s heart is no longer exclusively his son. It’s Buck, too. Which explains why the heart theme we’ve been seeing with Eddie since 413 has expanded to include Buck’s in this ep, with Eddie literally restarting it. So 611 really affirms who Eddie’s heart now belongs to. We see how, without Buck, he would have lost Chris as well. Without Buck, he would have lost his whole heart. ~~ 

And that brings us of course to what kind of a person Eddie would be once that happened. We learn he would have become this angry man, drawing on his reaction during the lawsuit story arc. But notice that in both cases, a part of the issue causing Eddie's anger is not having Buck. Yes, back in s3 Eddie was dealing with Shannon’s death, but he doesn’t really start losing it until he also can no longer speak to Buck. Similarly, in the coma dream, he becomes Angry Guy due to the loss of Chris, but that is tied in with the absence of Buck in his life. In other words, losing Buck causes Eddie SUCH grief, that it has no other way out except for rage. ~~ 

Did you notice how once again, Buck got to be Madney’s truth teller? He did that first in 208, when he realized Madney are basically dating. Interestingly, everything he told Maddie about them was also true for him and Eddie. Then in this ep, he tells Chim Madney basically should be married, since they already share every other part of domestic and committed life. Obviously this will come into play soon. So just remember that once again, his words can be easily applied to Buddifer as well, plus Buck’s truth teller status was paralleled back in s2 with Maddie in 204, when she asked her brother about his newfound boy crush on Eddie... ~~ 

Okay, last one, but I just had to share with you maybe my fave parallel from this ep. You might have noticed in my 610 meta how much I think the lightning stroke parallels the shooting arc. Well, this was true with one of the sweetest moments in the ep’s conclusion. Just like how, at the end of 414, we got to witness Eddie hugging Chris while Buck watched on, so we get to see Buck hugging their son while Eddie looks on now. Except Eddie isn’t just looking. He enables the hug by helping Chris into Buck’s arms. Tell me again: how is this not a family? How are these men not partners, dedicated and loving towards each other in every way that matters...? ~~ 

Please enjoy direct links to my weekly meta posts, my Buddie gifs and more of my content in my pinned post. Endlessly thankful to @whosoldherout​, who​ blows my mind away every week with her hard work and beautiful gifs for my meta. Tag list will follow in the reblog, please let me know if you wanna be added/removed here. Thank you in advance for any reblog and like! I’m operating on far too little sleep in order to get this posted quickly, so I can't explain how much any and all encouragement matters to me. Thank you! xoxox

#buddie #911meta #buddie meta #911 meta #9-1-1 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #wm #buddie gifs #buddie gif #911 gifs #911 spoilers #911 gif #911edit #buddieedit #911onabc #911 on abc #911abc #911 abc

[yelenasdiary]

request! maybe nat is doing some dark mob boss stuff (tourturing, killing, interrogating) but then during that gets a call from Dylan’s school that he was hurt at school (as r wasn’t picking up and nat was the emergency contact) so she drops everything and rushes over dylans school and comforts him as he cries. maybe he broke his arm and has to be taken to the hospital? r is frantic once she finds out she missed a school call but nat assures her that she’s taken care of everything.

Drabble || Missed Calls

Pairing: CEO! MobBoss! Natasha Romanoff x Single Mom! Reader (Platonic)

Summary: You missed a call from Dylan’s school, but Natasha was there to help

Comfort | Mentions of Medical Talk | Light Language Warning | 0.8K | 

Notes: I was meant to post this on my birthday, but I ran out of time, I hope you enjoy this! x

Different Kind of Love Masterlist

If you were to give yourself a compliment for the work you do, it would be how dedicated you are. In a meeting that Natasha couldn't make it too, giving her client your entire attention. You enjoyed your job and gave it all you possible could, little did you know that back in your office in the top drawer of your desk, your phone rang twice. Dylan's pre-school left a message for you to listen to within a few hours when the meeting would finally come to an end. 

Meanwhile, Natasha was 'taking care of business' as she would tell you. Torturing yet another man that crossed her path. Beating him with steel pipes, baseball bats, a hammer even, anything she could use to torture this man to get him to break and give her the information she was searching for. She was close to breaking the corrupted businessman when Bucky interrupted. 

"Boss, it's important" he spoke while holding Natasha's cell phone. Nat turned to look at Bucky and noticed he wasn't joking, something else needed her attention. "Take over" she ordered her partner in crime before she stormed out of the room, putting her phone to her ear.

"This is Natasha Romanoff" she answered in a friendly tone as if she wasn't just beating a man. "Hi Miss Romanoff, it's Maria Hill from Dylan's pre-school. You're listed here as an emergency contact fo-"

"Is he okay?!" Natasha asked in a worry.

"He seems to have broken his arm while playing outside with a couple of the other boys. We have tried contacting his mother, but we couldn't get through" Maria explains. 

"I'll be right there!" Natasha replied in a hurry before hanging up the phone. "Buck, I've gotta run!" she calls out as she grabs her things and rushes to her car, leaving Bucky to finish the job.

----

Natasha rushed to the hospital where Dylan was taken too where she found him sitting up on a bed in tears.  "Aunty Nat!" he sobs as his eyes lock onto her, "my arm hurts" he added. "Oh, honey!" Natasha rushes to his side as a nurse prepares to start putting his left arm in a cast. "You're his aunty?" the nurse asks kindly. "Family friend, but I'm his emergency contact" Natasha assures the nurse that she isn't just some stranger. 

"That's fine. Little Dylan here has a simple broken arm, 6 weeks with this cast on and he should be good as new" she smiled softly at Dylan and Natasha. "I fell off the playground" Dylan sobbed in Natasha's arms, "it's okay baby, you're going to have this really cool cast to wear! All your friends can sign it" Nat comforts your son with a kiss on the top of his head. 

"They can?" Dylan perks up as he looks at Natasha, she nods, "can you sign it too aunty Nat?" he asks. "Are you kidding? Of course, I can! I'm going to draw some cool pictures on it too!" Nat smiles at the little boy. 

Natasha sat with Dylan while the nurse plastered up Dylan's arm, she kept her arms wrapped around him while telling him how brave he was being. Dylan asked the nurse every question under the sun about his new cast and what he can and can't do, he was excited to return to pre-school to have all his new friends sigh and draw all over his cast. 

When asked what color Dylan would like his cast to be, of course he answered with red. "Red like the fire trucks!" his exactly words were. Natasha couldn't help but chuckle and pull the little boy closer into her hold. 

By the time your meeting was over, and you were finally able to check your phone, your heart skipped a beat. Worry consumed your entire body as you listened to the messages from Dylan's pre-school. Natasha had left you a message stating that she was at the hospital with Dylan and not to worry as he was okay. But as a mother, all you could do was worry. You rushed to the hospital, getting there just as Dylan was being discharged. 

"Mommy!" Dylan ran up to you with his left arm in a cast. "Baby!" you kneed down, catching Dylan in your arms and hugging him tightly, "are you okay honey? What happened?!" you asked. Dylan explained what happened, even expressed how excited he was to get home and have his Aunty Nat sign his cast. 

"He's okay" Natasha smiled as you released Dylan from your hug, "he's a brave boy" Nat added as she held his backpack in her hands. "I'm so sorry, I was in a meeting and I left my phon-"

"It's okay, Y/n. I'm his emergency contact, of course I was going to be here" she assured you with a soft smile. "Still, thank you" you smiled.

Taglist: @marvelogic | @randomnessbecausewhynot | @blackwidow-3 | @lilsmeaux | @mmmmokdok | @wandanats-goodgirl | @toouncreativeforausername | @agent99galanzo | @marvelwomen-simp | @its-just-geek | @fxckmiup | @loneliestafterparty | @pikachooo3 | @monaekelis | 

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #fanfiction #black widow #marvel #different kind of love

[ultramegagigamax3]

2: you drank the blood and bit the meat / toby rogers

drive the pathway through the pines

and the moors of mystery

welcome conflict and let the crisis come

and shake the ground beneath

masterlist ~ last ~ next

!!TRIGGER WARNINGS!!: homophobic slurs, references to ableism, graphic murder (duh), sexual harassment/assault (not between main couple), bullying/assault, references to suicidal ideation Author's Note: ~ will be used to warn of the start/end of the SA scene

No, that wasn’t a sign, right? You look at the blood and mud staining the sink, were they connected? No, that kid and this psycho, it had to be a coincidence. Sure, there were certain similarities, and maybe he was a bit of a creep. But a murderer? “Take whatever He gives you with open arms.” You can almost hear your mom say.

<3

Hours earlier

For the nth time that day, you could’ve jumped out of your skin. You yelp and twist your body around, and there’s a boy standing over you.

“Holy fucking shit! Fucking cocksucker–!” Your mouth continues to spit off a variety of curses, very unholy!

“Ack, sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you!” He stuttered, though not sounding very sincere. His voice sounded nervous, but the way he held himself didn’t show it. He stood up straight, if not relaxed, looking down at you past his nose. You couldn’t help but feel like you were being assessed.

“Fucking shit...” You’re breathing hard, “What the hell, man?” You looked the guy up and down, tall and gangly with heavy layers, ratty brown hair, a pair of sunglasses, and a bandage over his left cheek. His face is pale and sunken in, his boyish face gaunt, and he almost looks dead. Freaky.

“Sorry, sorry!” He raised his hands in surrender, as if that would ease your nerves.

You groan and place your head between your knees again. “If you’re one of Pete’s guys, twenty bucks and you tell him I killed myself and that he can leave me alone now.” You sigh, defeated.

“Woah there! Who’s Pete? Haha! I’m just,” he pauses, twitches, “looking for a place to smoke!” He sounded cheerful, it’s way too early to be cheerful. His stuttering seems to be his natural manner of voice, and now you notice his hands, shoved into his pockets, are twitching.

“Ughhh…” You whine before toppling over in the dirt, not caring about the mud clinging to you. You curl into a fetal position, as if to take a nap. You’re tired, and you silently pray that this guy leaves you the hell alone. You bring another cig to your lips and feel around for your lighter in the moist dirt. “Look, I know you’re here on a dare, but I’m not in the mood, can you, like, do this another time or something?”

“No one dared me.” Suddenly, the flame alights before your face. The boy is crouched over you, and his hand is as unsteady as you could’ve expected. You cringe a bit, a little freaked out that his twitching hands would drop the flame in your face. But he doesn’t, and you finally take a long drag of your cancer stick, the edginess under your skin melting away inch by inch.

“Thanks.” You mumble though a cloud of smoke.

“Hehe, no problem.” The stupid grin stays painted on his face, and he doesn’t make a move to stand.

“Can you go away now?” You closed your eyes, trying to relax, but the boy’s presence made all your hairs stand on end.

His smile drops and he scoffs, “You’re so mean.” He pouts, and you cringe at his tone.

You shrug, you’ve been called worse. Way worse. “Why are you still here?” You can feel a painful throb begin to grow from within your skull.

“Ah! To, uh, smoke!” He seems to break out of whatever trance he’s in, as he takes a seat in the dirt a few feet away from you.

“Yeah, I got that, dipshit.” You state matter of factly, ouch! “But why are you here?”

He tilts his head. “Because I won’t be seen if I hide in the bleachers?” He replies stupidly.

“That’s not…” you roll your eyes, “whatever.” This was going nowhere. You decide to leave the weirdo be, though you still can’t quite pinpoint what his supposed true intentions are. You take a couple drags, then a beat passes, and you’re almost done with your cig again. He’s still sitting there, he’s still watching, like a fucking idiot.

“Are you gonna fucking smoke or what?” you mutter.

“Oh! Yeah!” He sits back and finally makes a move to check his pockets. He searches his body, his oversized coat, his wrinkled brown sweater, his muddied pants. You try to ignore him, but he doesn’t seem to find whatever he’s looking for. For some reason, he sees this as a chance to start a conversation. “My name’s Toby by the way!”

“Okay.”

“Ahaha…”

…

“… And, what’s yours?” He struggled a bit to get the “and” out.

You take a final drag, dig the butt into the dirt, and pull out a fresh cigarette. You stick your hand out to the boy, “My lighter.”

“That’s a pretty weird name!” He laughs, though it dies in the sight of your stony glare. His gloved hand, it’s too hot for gloves, still holding the neon yellow lighter, tightens. “Tell… Tell me your name first.”

“Are you fucking for real?” Coming out more like a statement than a question.

“Yeah.” His voice shifts in tone. Up until this point, he’s been awkward, somewhat goofy, yet relaxed. However, something about him had seemed to shift. His air becoming serious, almost sinister.

You roll your eyes, “Katie,” you lie, you tried to shake off the strange feeling bubbling inside of you, “now gimme.”

He hesitates, almost as if he knew you were lying, before grabbing your hand and placing the lighter in your palm. He holds your hand there for three whole seconds before you tear it away. Sweaty. Gross. You light the fresh cigarette, breathing it the warm smoke.

“Hey, um…” He speaks up again, serious, the tension in the air thickening by the second.

“What?” You groan, you can feel another headache coming on. You wondered if you should be fight or flight-ing right now.

“Can I, uh, bum a cig?” He adds a little chuckle at the end.

“Last one,” you lie, “sorry. Go find Jack Petrović. I’m sure you can get something real good from him.” You imagined him ending up with that other creep, trying to salesman-pitch him some all-purpose flour mixed with a back-alley “something”. Pete’s guys were probably Jack’s biggest, if not only, buyers, anyways. However, as you glance at him, you notice the twitch that extends from his hands, up his arms, and into his neck and shoulders. You can hear soft cracks at times, when you weren’t looking, the bones popping out and into place. Could he really have been one of Pete’s? People in this school were monsters, they’d overlook you, their favorite prey, to rip apart a kid like this. You felt a pang of guilt.

“Couldn’t I just,” he inches into your personal space, “borrow from that one?” his voice low and whispered, but not from any sort of bashfulness. He sounded ominous yet inviting, like he was attempting to lull you into a false sense of security. Whatever guilt you felt quickly dissipated in that moment.

You stare at him like he had just asked you to join him in assassinating the president (perhaps you aren’t that great with metaphors). You pause as you process the question, before sitting up quickly, “Yeah, no, fuck this shit.”

“Hey, wait!” He panicked, reaching out for you.

“Go find your own smokes, you… freaky… creep!” Wow, Jessie’s creativity certainly rubbed off on you. You grabbed your half empty backpack, shoving the lighter and cigs safely inside, and began to stomp away.

“Wait, wait, wait! I… I have something! Something you want!” He called out.

“Thanks, but I’m good! More than good!” Though you couldn’t help the slight curiosity that bubbled inside you. “Very, very good!”

“I’ve got good shit, I promise! Look!” That caught your attention. You paused and craned your neck to look back at him. He hadn’t moved from his spot in the dirt, as if he knew that would stop you.

“What?” The bait was glaringly obvious, but you couldn’t help but bite. You have a much weaker constitution these days.

He nodded frantically. He dug into his front pocket, the same pockets he had searched for his supposed “cigarettes”, and pulled out a fist full of something. You took a wary step forward as he beckoned you closer, like he was taming a wild animal.

“What is it?” you ask.

“What do you think?” he replies with a smirk, mischievous and inviting.

You move without thinking. Now, you are standing above the boy, your positions reversed. He opens his hand and reveals a small, dirty baggy filled with a beautiful shade of green. The stash wasn’t impressive, but it was something.

“How much?” You raise your brow; you’re holding your backpack tight over your chest.

You look down at him, and he looks up at you. “I won’t charge you this time but… you’ll owe me one?” He lowers his voice, the weirdly intense aura from before had returned.

Your withdrawal symptoms had dulled after puking, but the tempting sight of just temporary relief made you feel all itchy again. Itchy with want.

“Are you sure?” You tilt your head.

“Totally sure.” His voice is smooth, almost soothing.

“Really?” You furrow your brow, innocent.

His serious expression finally broke, a grin cracking across his face. “Uh huh, yes.”

“Fuck you.” You landed a swift kick to the boy’s exposed stomach; your legs are still strong despite the muscle deterioration. The boy doubled over, more in shock than in pain, and you took this chance to snatch the bag out of his hands. He grabbed your wrist, his grip strong but unsteady. “Ugh! Fuck off!”

Through his twitching, you manage to break away from his grip. Then, you ran. You had been on the track team before the drugs took their toll and, although your lungs and muscles aren’t what they used to be, you still had killer speed. You didn’t look back, just booked it. Your weakened lungs burned, your muscles ached with exertion, wind deafeningly whipped past your ears. It felt good, it felt painful, you missed this feeling. For a moment, as you watched the world whizz by, you felt like a kid again. You felt free, in a strange way. You looked up at the cloudy sky, when you ran like this it was as if the world disappeared around you. Should you take up track again? No, it was too late. You went straight for the school, and you could see a couple of your friends already meandering outside. Your cheeks ached as you couldn’t stop grinning and giggling, the rush of thievery excited you. Well, technically it was “free”, to an extent, but still.

You finally glanced back; the boy was nowhere in sight.

You look ahead and there, standing in the courtyard, stood six people. Jack Petrović, only a part-time piece of the group, stood tall above the other heads. He was the first one to spot you, so he raised a huge, sweaty hand to wave. Laney Walker, your closest friend (well, closest friend that’s still in high school), stood with her back turned to you.

“Hey!” You call, but before she can fully turn around you jump onto her back, practically tackling her into a hug. She lets out a yelp and you cackle.

“[  ]! Oh my god, you bitch, you scared me!” She whines. Despite her tone, she turned to hug back, “Where the hell were you?”

“Oh my god, you won’t believe the freaky fucking day I just had.” Your heart was pounding with excitement suddenly. There was an electric current running through your body, but you felt good, restless from delight.

Laney has thin, bright orange hair, and she’s shedding from the constant dye jobs. You’ve been acquaintances since the 8th grade, both of you senior failures. You have only become so close now since you were the only two left. She’s blunt, speaks her mind, and “brutally honest”, or so she claims. Laney clung to greasy playboy Milton Meaux, whose wandering eyes studied every inch of your exposed skin, though you didn’t notice. He’s a quiet guy, and as you told your story of the eventful morning his only comments consisted of “wow” and “shit”. How insightful. (Jack promptly parted once he realized you weren’t interested in buying whatever he was selling, not without promising a discount once you finally came around.)

“Ugh, Jessie’s such a bitch!” sneered Nate Patrick, a heavy-set wannabe-punk child of hillbillies and Milton’s best friend. He has a thing about women, especially pretty and popular ones, he seems to never get along with them. But the two of you got along fine enough, as the two most susceptible to getting in trouble. To you, he was just another annoying little brother.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if she was some fuckin’ repressed lesbian.” Tack, or Markus Johnson, drawled in his heavy southern accent, a stupid nickname that you still didn’t know the origin of. He’d be taller if it wasn’t for his shitty posture, constantly hunched over with a cigarette hanging from his bleeding lips. The beginning of your friendship had been quiet, awkward, and based upon your mutual addictions; however, you’ve gotten much closer in the last year. Perhaps too close, as you leaned against him as you caught your breath.

“Are you like… okay? Mariah said you were sick and stuff.” Little Marcia spoke up. Little, because she is the smallest and youngest of the group. Marcia Johnson is Tack’s baby sister, and you had no idea why she hung around you guys. You had voiced your concerns to the group once, that some freshman shouldn’t be hanging around people like you, but no one gave a shit. She’s not a baby. Laney retorted. Yeah, not like we’re forcin’ her to do anythin’. Milton added, one of the first times you’ve heard him speak a full sentence. Tack shrugged, I tried to stop her, as nonconfrontational as ever.

You shrug and awkwardly nod at Little Marcia, crossing your arms as you begin to pace absentmindedly. “Yeah, just needed to puke, s’all…” you sniffed, cleared your throat, then shook your head, you needed to change the topic, “No, but forget that, listen to this…!”

Your hands sweeping through the air as you told your story, gesturing animatedly. You told the story of the events that had just transpired, though with added details for flair.

“And he was totally all up on me, trying to smoke my used fucking cig!” You exclaimed, and Little Marcia’s brow furrowed with worry.

“I think he wanted you, [  ], shit.” Nate teased, walking up to your side, and poking at your rib cage. You jerked your body away, swatting at the boy’s hands.

“Fuck off!” you shoved him, but he just cackled, an ugly sound. You paused for a moment as you thought, “… you really think that’s what it was?” You begin pacing, “Do y’all have any idea who the hell that even was? Okay, so, he was, like, lanky, pale as shit, brown hair–”

“Oh my god, [  ], don’t even!” Laney loudly groaned as her whole body moved with the strength of her eye roll.

“What? Huh?” Your wild mood suddenly felt dampened.

“This guy was creeping on you, and you totally fucking want him, Jesus Christ.”  She brought a hand to her face and massaged the bridge of her nose.

“What the fuck? Who said that?” You startled at the comment, the last thing you had been expecting to hear.

“You’re getting real defensive, [  ].” Nate grinned at you, a shit-eating ugly fucking grin, as he followed your step to continue with his poking and prodding. You furrowed your brow in confusion, were you missing something?

“Right, Nate? Like oh my god, get some self-respect!” Laney added, as if she understood you better than you did yourself. The hell did she know about you?

“Don’t start twisting my words around, Laney, Jesus!” you exclaimed, your face heating up in a mix of embarrassment and frustration.

The girl only rolled her eyes in response, “Now you’re blushing!” she states, matter of fact. “Milly, what do you think?” Laney turned to Milton, hitting him with the most innocent doe eyes she could muster.

Milton’s brain seemed to struggle to comprehend the question, as he took forever to finally cough up his answer. “I think,” his voice low and rumbling, craning his neck to shift his gaze from your legs to the sky, “he just wanted a fuckin’ cig,” He lowered his gaze again, looking dead into your eyes, “and now [  ] is getting’ all excited.” Then he smirks.

Laney rolled her eyes again but couldn’t stop her smile. Nate burst into a fit of laughter, always Milton’s little henchman. Little Marcia didn’t seem to know how to react, and so she brought a hand to her mouth and suppressed a performed giggle. You stood there, almost in shock. Sure, at face value their words weren’t a big deal, they’re just teasing you about some guy. But you couldn’t help but suspect there was something deeper to things they say, some double entendre.

Tack had his eyes glued to the ground, focused on finishing his cigarette. He liked to act cool, act tough, but he feared the slightest signs of conflict. “Too mature” for “drama”, he sees himself as “above it”. But that’s a total lie, he’s just scared.

You rolled your eyes, “yeah, yeah, laugh it up.” You were used to this, and you played it off like their words didn’t sting. “But how do you explain that shit with the weed, huh?” You placed your hands on your hips, now you felt like you needed to get one over on them.

Milton shrugs, “Maybe he wanted you to suck his dick for it?”

If your face wasn’t hot before, you were burning now. Laney gasped and smacked the boy’s shoulder, “Fucking hell Milton, you freak!” She scolds, but you can see the grin tugging at her lips.

“What? That’s what she’s tryin’ to make it sound like!” He hisses through his malicious grin.

The group breaks into laughter once more, laughter at you. You shoved your clenched fists into your pockets, trying to hide any more weakness from them. Small, you felt small. Utterly insignificant. You might as well have been back in that bathroom stall, or back home. You wanted to leave, but you needed an excuse. You tried to play it off, any more signs of vulnerability and they might bite. You sigh, exasperatedly, “Uh, I gotta go, see y’all later.”

“What? [  ], did we hurt your feelings?” Laney frowned, almost as if she meant the words.

“Aw, c’mon, it’s just a joke!”

“We’re sorry, [  ], we didn’t mean it!”

“Don’t be such a buzzkill!”

“Guys, stop, she’s tryin’ to go find her man.”

“Milly, stop it! [  ], wait–!”

<3

Your chemistry teacher seemed surprised to see you come in, let alone on time. You took your spot at the back of the class, immediately pulling your phone out. You scrolled, you texted, you scrolled, you texted. It’s an old, broken hunk of metal, but your dad couldn’t afford an upgrade right now. Your fingers caught and scratched on the cracks, and the screen had green spots and multicolored lines that blocked walls of text. You had a couple of good friends outside of school, the ones who had actually graduated. There were the ones who knew you before your life went to shit, but they all moved away or started families or whatever. Your “new” buddies, they’re all either high as balls on some street corner, working some dead-end minimum wage job, or dead. Or stuck in high school. It sounds bleak, a glimpse into the life that awaited you if you didn’t get your shit together. But, you loved these guys. Sure, they treated you like shit sometimes, but they liked you. As in, they actually want you around, and that was enough for you.

Wow, your standards are low, huh?

Speaking of low standards…

“Laney’s gonna be a super super senior if she keeps skippin’, huh?” Tack took the seat next to you, you’re tired of people just walking up on you.

You shake your head and roll your eyes, “Some fucking friend you are.”

He raises his hands, “Hey, it’s not my fault she’s skipping.” He attempts to lighten the mood.

“Not that, dickhead.” I glared at my phone screen, suddenly feeling alighted with anger.

“Ah, yeah,” Defeated, he shifted in his seat, “my bad… didn’t know it would get to you like that…”

You roll your eyes, “Whatever.” You spat.

You can see him shrug from the corner of your eye, “I mean, to be fair, they were just teasin’…”

“Like hell they were, Markus! With those assholes, there’s always some deeper fucking dig that they’re trying to make! You know that, but you just like letting them get away with it!”

Tack sat staring at you, almost dumbfounded. You suddenly felt embarrassed, and the embarrassment only deepened your frustration. Shit, you were freaking out. Withdrawals got you like this, anything could set you off. Yeah, that’s it, withdrawals. You felt a wave of shame come over you. You hunched over your desk and rested your head in your hands. The two of you sat silently, you were bad with apologies and Tack was bad with your outbursts.

The teacher began her lecture, and you only half listened for about 5 minutes before Tack leaned over to whisper, “You need to let off some stress?”

“What?” Startled by the sudden proposition.

“Next Saturday, some of the guys are goin’ up North…”

“What, you guys migrating?”

He huffed a small chuckle, “Goin’ ‘window shopping’, wanna come with?”

“Are you stupid? After last time?” You furrow your brow at him.

Tack pursed his lips and tilted his head side to side, as if to communicate that you had a point, but… “Things’ll be different now.”

“Different?” You raise your brows, unconvinced.

He nods, “We got you.”

Perhaps he knew you were weak to flattery, and so you brought a hand to your chin, “Let me think about it.”

He presses his lips into a thin line, “Pay’ll be real good.” he added in a sing-songy voice.

“I said I’ll think about it, didn’t I?”

<3

The day went on sluggishly, more sluggish than usual. You ended up avoiding skipping class for the rest of the day. Were you avoiding Laney? Were you avoiding that boy? Whatever it was, you didn’t want to let either of them control your mood, and so you walked with an overconfident step. That would show them that they had no power over you, right? (Ironic, considering they stopped you from skipping, hm?)

Climbing on the bus home was cathartic, just a taste of sweet, sweet freedom. But you were late, since you hadn’t skipped your last class, and so most all the seats were full. Well, all seats, except for Michael.

He ignored you as you plopped down next to him, and you ignored him.

In the beginning of this silent treatment, you had tried to get him to react. It started small, talking to him as if nothing had happened. You asked him about classes, how his day was, how his friends were. He ignored you. Then, you began speaking pointedly towards him, trying to encourage a response. Asking to help you with chores, inviting him out with your friends, offering to buy him things. He ignored you. It soon turned into blatant targeting, hoping to provoke him. Criticizing him, hiding his things, yelling in his face. He ignored you. You were no longer sorrowful, sympathetic, or patient. Then, you were only filled with resentment, frustration, and insecurity. How dare he treat you like a pest in your own home? In those days, you really turned into your mother. You would quickly become desperate, going far to get any sort of reaction, no longer caring if it would hurt him or you. You said and did things you still regret, though you never bothered to apologize. Now, you feigned indifference; pretending to not care, in order to make him care. It’s stupid, childish, and you knew it, but you stopped giving a shit a long time ago. Michael made you feel small, like an irrelevant speck. As did Jessie, and Laney, and Milton, and Nate, and everyone. You’re tired of being nothing. Just wait, you thought, I’ll show you, soon enough. But how?

The bus ride is long a silent, and you wish you hadn’t destroyed the earbud port in your phone. You wondered about the rest of the day; should you do homework, fuck off with your annoying friends, or get high at by the river?

River, definitely the river. (Uh oh!)

You shoved a hand in your pocket, thumbing the baggy. Hopefully, this will be the last you’ve seen of that creep. Thanks, though! You absentmindedly glance at Michael, and you can see him eyeing your hand in your pocket, and you try not to feel guilty.

<3

Once off the bus, you immediately began walking in the opposite direction of Michael’s path. You went straight for the trees, Michael not bothering to call after you, though you hadn’t expected him to.

The walk is long, but scenic. You trudge along the gravel road that reaches the trees of the distant forest. During the day, it’s beautiful, and it almost makes you forget about those dead bunnies your dad made you hunt. Almost. A golden light shines through brown-green leaves, and the forest is alight with sounds of its creatures, making you feel a bit less alone. Not that much, though. You pull out your phone and play some music to distract you from the loneliness of the woods, though the broken speakers gave it a muffled and distorted sound. You walked until the gravel trail broke off into dirt, and you carefully followed the jagged path until the air felt moist. Well, moister than it already was. The trees reaching branches finally split to reveal the river, long, clear, and calm. You took a deep breath, feeling refreshed already. Is it dangerous to get high and swim? Definitely, but did you care at the moment? Not really!

You stripped, save your shorts and underwear, and sat down on the bank of the river. You dangled your feet into the warm water as you observed your stolen goods. You hadn’t noticed it before, but the guy gave you papers and filters too, the generous bastard.

“How sweet.” You mutter to yourself, as you rolled one up on your thigh. No one came to this end of the river, there were more scenic and swimmer-friendly areas downstream, and so you were completely alone. Though, even if someone stumbled upon you, you didn’t really care. You spread your sweater out on the rocks and dirt behind you and laid back, taking long drags of your fugitive joint. You considered smoking everything he gave you, as that deep itch could still be felt panging inside of you, but you held yourself back. The cigarettes and the weed wouldn’t quench that undying thirst, but they could distract you, for now.

“Tomorrow,” you say out loud, to yourself, “if I still feel like shit, I’m going downtown.” There was no real “downtown”, that’s what you and your buddies like to call the main town. “Downtown” that’s where the good shit is. That’s the place that can quench your thirst.

You sigh out a cloud of smoke and sit up, before languidly slipping into the stream. It’s somewhat shallow, and so you crouch down until the water reaches your neck. You have a hand above the water holding onto your joint when it’s not hanging from your lips. The stressors of the day melt away, all the tension held within your body releasing bit by bit. The soft strings of the guitar play through the speakers of your shitty phone, filling the air with static ridden harmonies. You wade through the water and think, simply think. Nothing too deep or mind numbing, you stick to the simple and the happy. What’s mom making for dinner? Hope it’s not spaghetti again. What’s Laura up to now? You wonder if she’s home yet. You should bring her and the kids here one of these days. Heh, wonder if you can make a point to not invite stupid Michael. You sigh, no, the kids would want him there, your parents too. You wondered about how the babies might’ve spent the day, probably just laying around, pooping. You missed them a bit, but you’ll be home soon enough.

You look up at the orange-ing sky, the setting sun sending sparkles across the water. You savored the joint, taking only a few short drags at a time, though you hungered for so much more. Beneath the water, you still scratched at your thighs. You look down, watching as your limbs distorted in the water. Your upper thighs and the crooks of your elbows were littered with old scratches and scars. When things got bad, you couldn’t realize just how deeply you would dig your nails into your flesh. You lean back on the bank, and raise your stomach, marked with similar scars. You remembered the pregnancy bullshit then and cringed. You couldn’t be a mother, even if you wanted. Sure, you liked kids well enough, but you couldn’t stand being around them for any longer than you needed to. You don’t like to cook or clean, and you don’t know how to care; motherly duties weren’t your forte. Hell, you couldn’t take care of a fish, let alone a baby. On top of that, the sheer horror of birth was enough to cure you of any level of baby fever. Sickness and pain, a growing mass within your core, for 9 months. And at the end of those months, you’re ripped open, and that fleshy mass is torn from your body. The doctors clean it up and hand it back to you, and now it won’t stop those skull-shattering wails. The tiny banshee never knows sleep, creates mini biohazards by the hour, and could die at any turn. No, you couldn’t handle it. You wondered how your mother did it so many times without losing her mind. Well, maybe she did.

“You’re getting to that age, [  ]…” Your grandfather once had the audacity to say, back when you were freshly 18. Now, you were nearing 20, and you knew people who had already popped out a couple of snot nosed brats. You could feel the eyes on you from your extended family members; some waiting for you to finally grow up, get your shit together, and continue the bloodline. Meanwhile, others watched with bated breath, silently petrified of the idea of someone like you coming home with a pregnant belly and no father, just as they expected. That, most of all, filled you with the most dread. If you had been a boy, would it still have been such a big deal?

“That age”? Shit, you still felt like a child. How could a child have a child? Your mind felt fuzzy, your brain heavy, and so you rested your head on the bank. You bring the joint to your lips and… nothing. It’s then you realize you had been taking deeper drags than you thought, the thing was a pathetic stump now. You moved to shove the remains into your bag (no littering!) but your body feels as if it wasn’t moving in time with your mind. A familiar feeling, it reminds you of the first time you tried an edible. Fucking shit. What the hell did that freak put in this thing? “Fucking cocksucker…” You mutter and dug your nails into the dirt of the bank, you needed to get the hell out of the water. Then, a snap.

You jerk your head to attention, the sudden movement making your brain swim. You hear a series of giggles, those damned giggles.

“Ooo, you skinny dippin’?” Jessie is grinning at you, with two other girls strolling about.

“Huh? Jessie? The fuck…” It’s difficult to think, it’s worse to move, “… are you… here…?”

She hums a small sound as she watches you from above. You can barely process what’s happening. “What? We can’t go for a little swim?” She replies innocently.

“I… uh… yeah.” You didn’t know what you were saying, your mind was going blank. You look up Jessie, patches of black begin to cloud your vision. Nothing felt real, you felt like you were dying. “Hey, mind… uh… helping… me?”

Jessie scoffs, then laughs at you. She’s standing along the bank, your hands only inches away from her boots. “You want my help?” she asks, dumbfounded.

“That’s what I said.” Even in this state, you could still cough up something snappy. The world felt as if it were growing distant, and, you had to admit, you liked the feeling. If you weren’t stuck in a river, begging one of your bullies to pull you out, you could’ve enjoyed this.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by a sudden sharp pain. You yelp, Jessie had dug the heel of her boot into your palm. It wasn’t agonizing, not yet at least. She would push down harder once you looked back up at her, before leaning over you. “Don’t start getting all sassy with me, you whore.”

“Hey, man… my bad, alright?” You felt sluggish, despite the pain, and so you laid your head down on your extended arm. “Please, jus’… drag me out… I’ll owe you one.”

Your eyes close, lids heavy, and you can hear that screeching laugh over you. Then, another voice pops up.

“My God, she’s fucking high, isn’t she?” The squeaky voice from the bathroom, Christina Hall. The orange-skinned, bleached blonde girl was at Jessie’s side now, crouching down to observe you more closely. You feel a sensation on the exposed half of your face, and it takes you a moment to realize Christina is pinching at your cheeks. “High in the lake?” River. “Are you stupid?” Maybe. You scrunch your nose and absentmindedly swat at your face, and so she moves on to tugging and twirling strands of your hair.

“Maybe she’s tryin’ to killer ‘erself?” A deep voice chides, Layla or Lyla or something, she’s too forgettable for you to keep up. She’s tall with jet-black hair, pasty skin, and creepy blue eyes that stared right into your soul. She’s nudging harshly at your naked stomach with a sandaled foot, a disgusted look painted across her unremarkable features.

“[  ]!” Christina whined, and you thought of Laney, “I heard you were quitting,” she pouts, “aw, poor thing!” She wraps her arms around you and throws her body weight over your upper body. Her stomach and chest are pressed against your face, as if she were trying to suffocate you to death. You can’t breathe and your body is limp, too weak to fight back. God, please don’t let this be how you die, of all things.

A sound that can only be described as utter disgust can be heard coming from somewhere outside the fleshy suffocation. “Christie, get the hell off of her! She’s a fucking dyke, you dumbass, she probably likes that!” Jessie yells, and Layla-Lyla breaks into a fit of giggles.

“Ewwww!” Christina yelps and pushes away from you, and you take a deep breath and begin coughing.

“What… do you want?” You pleaded through panting breaths.

Jessie shrugs, “I don’t know, what do I want?” You open your mouth to respond, but before you can answer, a swift kick is landed on your face. You can barely register the sensation, too hiked up on whatever the hell was in that weed now, but you can feel the blood trailing from your nose.

A round of impressed ooo’s and aaa’s sound above you, before another sudden kick is landed on your stomach. You let out a noise, the wind being knocked out of you, and you can feel your lunch coming up. The girls say something to you, but you don’t respond, too lost in the wave of pain and high. You lay like that for a while, everything feeling both overstimulating and far detached, until a sharp throb rings through your skull. Someone is pulling you by the hair, but your body was pure dead weight. You clenched your jaw and whimpered, body too limp and mind too gone to fight back. Then, through the chaos, a clear thought breaks through the haze, a revelation: he was part of this, wasn’t he? You felt a bit betrayed, for some reason.

~

“Pull her. Here, bring her here.” Jessie demands, and hands are suddenly tugging at your arms. You’re pulled away from the bank and into the rocks and dirt, sprawled out on your back. You try to protest, but another stomp landed on your stomach. There’s nothing for a moment, until you feel someone at your waist. You startle, your eyes attempting to widen as someone is ripping off your shorts. “Holy shit!” you yelp. With your eyes open, you realize Jessie is recording you, a grin plastered upon her perfect face. You flail your arms around, attempting to cover your body. Your sports bra was one thing, but this was a whole other level. Your body betrays you, as keeping your eyes open much longer proves near impossible, even in this state. You can feel your arms being ripped away from your body, exposing you once more. Even closed, your eyes burn with tears. You felt sick, violated, and out of your mind.

~

You’re in the darkness of the girls’ shadows one moment, then, suddenly, they’re gone. The sun shines upon you, the rays comfortably warming your wet skin. And, for the second time that day, you wonder if you’re dead. Perhaps, was this heaven?

“Oooh, cute bag!” Nope, not heaven.

You manage to open your eyes and see Christina holding your backpack, along with the rest of your things. “Hey, guys, hold on…!” You manage to get out. But it’s no use, and the girls are cackling and scurrying away. Shit. Your parents would freak out if you came home like this, freak out at you and at the girls. Mostly you. You watch as the girls disappear into the trees, deeper into the wood rather than out of it. You struggle as you force yourself to your feet, like a baby deer learning to stand. They had taken your shorts with them, along with your shirt, shoes, sweater. Fuck. The wind chills your exposed body, and so you wrap your arms around yourself and begin your trek.

Clumsily running through the winding trees, high as a kite, half naked, with the setting sun, was torture, to say the least. You hadn’t lost sight of the girls; you could see them in the distance. There were times where you would get close, causing them to notice you, break into giggles, and speed off all over again. And you would follow them as best you could, until they slowed down, and you could attempt to reach them again. It was a never-ending cycle, it was hell. Perhaps you really did die? You’ve heard stories of hell, how for some people it’s an endless repeating cycle of the worst day of their lives. Was this your worst? Maybe not, but it was up there. Did that make the current situation feel any better? Not in the slightest.

Your lungs burned and you felt like you were constantly on the verge of toppling over. As the sun lowered on the horizon, the wind gradually became more and more freezing. You could barely feel your legs, the aching so intense they had been practically numb. Zombie, that’s probably the best way you could describe your state. Why hadn’t they given up yet? Why haven’t you given up yet? You had been following them for what felt like hours. (Though, it had only been a couple minutes.) You’re tired, were they not? At some point, you had begun to smell that familiar stench in the air. You look out at the girls, clouds of smoke surrounding them. Fucking bitches, they were smoking your stolen tricked out weed! Sure, it made you feel insane, but that didn’t mean you didn’t want it! You let out a groan and considered finally turning around. They could have that fucked up weed, it’d teach them a lesson! (Didn’t you steal it first, though?) And your shitty phone, dirty clothes, knife, wallet… shit. Yeah, okay, you needed that stuff back.

You tried to sneak up on them, hiding behind trees or within bushes, but your awkward body never moved how you wanted it too, especially now. You peak from behind a tree, watching as the, now stumbling, girls came to a halt. You could hear them talking, and you assume it’s amongst themselves. However, you soon realize there is a fourth voice among them, a deeper one. You squint and strain your eyes, and you notice a taller figure among them. You assume it’s a man, his features indistinguishable. You take this chance to get closer, and so you crouch down and carefully step towards the small group. Before, you could only hear the distant sounds of their voices, now, you can distinguish their tone. Someone is angry, most likely Layla-Lyla, and Jessie is backing her up. The man in defensive, voice low and muffled. Now, you can see him; blue jacket over a tan hoodie, hood pulled over his head, alongside a strange black mask and a pair of bright orange goggles. At his sides, two red hatchets, perhaps he was a hunter? Or a psycho murderer? You didn’t know which one you were preferred, at this point.

The man doesn’t stop moving, speaking animatedly and constantly shifting on his feet. His mannerisms distantly remind you of that boy, but you don’t dwell on it for too long as the argument seems to heat up by the second. At some point, Layla-Lyla shoved the man in the chest, causing him to fall back a couple steps. Your body tenses, as you expected him to fight back, though he didn’t. Did you want to see them get hurt? Part of you felt as if you should be cheering for something bad to happen. But you’ve seen pain, in many forms, and you could only be filled with dread in that moment. You can’t help but remember Jessie as a child, her love of ponies and princesses. You grew up together. Perhaps she had forgotten your history, but your childhood is something you hold dear, and Jessie was a part of it. You dug your nails into the bark of the tree. No, that Jessie was gone. When you thought of the Jessie from your childhood, it was as if you were mourning the death of a loved one. The Jessie you loved was dead, has been dead for a while. Now, in her place, stood a young demon, possessing her corpse. Jessie now jumps in, raising her voice at the man, while Christina attempts to hold her back. All of them too high off their asses to properly handle an armed freak. You think of what just happened to you, minutes ago. You think of what happened this morning, what has happened for the last 5 years. Jessie was your own personal hell, though she was just another name in the pile. What has she done to deserve your forgiveness, besides being nice to you as a child? She was just another asshole that made you feel like shit.

This is what you told yourself in an attempt to not feel so bad as you watched the man reach for one of his hatchets and swing at the girls in one fell swoop. The hatchet landed in and tore through Jessie’s forearms, as she raised them to block her face, and the forest was suddenly alight with screams. Your eyes widened and you ducked behind the tree, covering your mouth as to stop any sudden sounds. You heard a thump as someone fell to the floor, Jessie was crying hysterically. You could hear footsteps approaching at a rapid pace, until Christina had come into view. You watched her as she tried to flee, but it was no use. A whirring sound flew through the air, and then there was a hatchet lodged in her skull. Her death was quick, and she fell to ground, her demon blood pooling around her. You stare at her body for a moment, it’s been a while since you’ve seen someone die. But she doesn’t keep your attention for long, as you can hear another loud scream, followed by a short yelp, come from directly behind the tree. Then, it’s quiet, save the man’s breathing, Jessie’s whimpering, and the pounding of your own heart. There are steps, shifting, as the man seems to be making his way back to Jessie. You think of chancing a glance behind the tree, but a soft thump on the opposite side of you grabs your attention. You carefully lean over, finding Layla-Lyla slumped over behind your hiding spot. The pooling blood slowly inches towards you, and you flinch to move away. Her face is unrecognizable, almost split in half from the gash that spans the top of her head to her jaw. Her eyes are popping out, and for a moment you think one is staring at you. You felt sick, you wanted to puke, again. Ironic, is the only thing that you can think to yourself, even in a time like this. You strain your ears to listen for Jessie, you can still hear her whimpering. She’s still alive.

You let out a quiet, shallow breath. Your body is shaking, vibrating, and you can hear your pulse rushing in your ears. You stay still for a while, listening for any sign of the man having left the scene. There’s nothing, no steps, no screaming, no nothing; just Jessie. Had the two of you escaped death? You relax a bit; he left Jessie behind, and he has failed to spot you. You feel a sense of relief, for yourself and, oddly enough, for Jessie. Was this a sign? God had a funny habit of getting you in and out of shitty situations by the skin of your teeth. The thought comforted you, to an extent; your misfortune went hand in hand with luck. And so, with a level of newfound confidence, you lean around the tree.

Your body seizes as Jessie’s deafening wail reaches your ears, cut short by the man driving a hatchet into her neck. Before you have time to react, he is lifting his head, his gaze seeming to land on you. He was waiting for you, his audience. Your body freezes, and so does his. Time stills, as if you had been locked in this morbid staring contest for hours. Your brain is still swimming in your skull, the dark spots infested the corners of your vision. All you could sense was the pounding of your heart, the sound of the wind, and the feeling of a cold, jagged stone held tight in your palm. Someone had to make the first move. You had to make the first move.

You scramble onto your feet and make a break for the main trail. Your panting breaths are loud in your ears, and you struggle to not trip and fall on exposed branches and rocks. The effects of the drug were beginning to wear down, however you were nowhere near sober. The wind had strengthened northward, pushing against your side, as if to knock you down. You can hear the steps behind you, hot on your tail. Tears streamed down you face, this was it; this would be how you died. Murder, it didn’t surprise you, though you hadn’t expected it to be someone so random. At least you wouldn’t be alone in hell, even if it was Jessie. You looked up at the sky, a deep purply blue shifting into black. The moon and stars were already peeking through the clouds, you hoped this could be your last sight. What happened to your lust for life? What happened to that fighting spirit? You were tired, tired of the weight of the world on your shoulders. Maybe it was the drugs talking, but you felt as if you were ready to give up.

Before you know it, your body is meeting the dirt. You had tripped on an exposed root, landing you on the forest floor. You grunt, but you make no move to get up. Instead, you pushed yourself onto your back and watched as more stars scattered the darkening sky. Out here, countless stars filled the sky, being so far from civilization. You laid there, waiting for the end, now. Although the effects had dulled, the drug was still running rampant through you, further lulling you into a calm state. There’s a moment where you’re alone with only the sounds of the forest, and you almost believe he had left you alone, until you hear the crunch of sticks under heavy boots. Although you make no move to escape, your body tenses in fear. Steps slowly approach you, then stop at your feet. You brace for impact, keeping your eyes glued to the stars.

Suddenly, something lands on your chest. You jump and squeeze your eyes shut, before realizing it is your clothes, rolled into a ball. You slowly open your eyes and lift your head. The man’s form is towering over you, his silhouette alighted by the moon’s rays. He drops your bag and shoes at your feet, and you can only assume he’s staring at you.

“Huh?” Your voice is gravely and rough as it breaks the silence. You can see him shrug and give you a thumbs up, then he’s gone.

God really really loves fucking with you.

#toby rogers x reader #ticci toby x reader

[allyouneedisbuck]

incandescent glow (your touch brought forth)

summary -> Your shoulder knocks against his softly, just before the doors to your floor open and you step away. “You should come for dinner, if you’re not too beat. I know Ophelia would love to see her favorite firefighter.”

“I’m the only firefighter she knows.” Bucky smiles teasingly, but he steps out of the elevator after you. You raise your eyebrows and Buck holds his hands up in surrender. “I would love to. Thank you, sunshine.”

or; bucky barnes has a knack for finding warmth. his job as a firefighter. steve and nat and their unwavering warmth and kindness. you, and your daughter, and the sunshine filled smiles and laughs. 

he’s just trying to figure out how to tell you he wants it all with you. [bucky barnes x single mom! reader]

words -> 5.7k

warnings -> firefighter!bucky (this story in no way reflects the actual life & work firefighters do) single mom! reader (daughter is named ophelia) found family, background! steve x nat & pure softness

notes -> hello! my welcome back to writing is a little fun piece with firefighter bucky (bc i have been watching 9-1-1 nonstop) & single mom reader. this was gonna be sexier but i was in such a soft mood, so enjoy.

make sure to check out the bonus scene after my author notes at the end

eighteen plus blog.

— ➶ —

Bucky knows warmth. He feels it all the time.

He feels the heat of the Los Angeles sun beating against his back as he and Steve fight against whatever metal warps in car doors to save lives.

He feels it in the fire that almost burns as he pulls out families because the stove was long forgotten or a candle was just too close to the curtain.

But he never feels the kind of warmth at work that he feels around you. Your smile is always warm and eyes as bright as sunshine.

Bucky knows warmth, but no warmth can make him quite as happy as yours.

— ➶

“Bucky!” He looks up from his spot in the elevator, and finds you calling out from the revolving door in the lobby with grocery bags in your hand. “Hold it?” You smile brightly and Bucky freezes for a moment, absolutely consumed by the warmth of it before he sees the elevator doors closing on him.

He panics reaching an arm out at the last minute before they shut completely on you. You smile gratefully as you slip in beside him.

“Hey, thanks.” You grin up at him as you stand beside him, your shoulders brushing against his. “How are you?”

Bucky smiles down at you. “Hey. Sorry, I blanked for a second there.” He nods at the doors that are now closed as the numbers begin to ascend.

1. 2. 3.

“I knew you wouldn’t let them shut on me, Buck.” You shrug with a gentle smile.

Buck looks up at the numbers again. 3. 4. 5.

“Yeah. It was just a long shift.” He thinks of the little boy, around your daughter’s age, who had clung to his turncoat and coughed into his shoulder as Buck carried him out of the burning house.

Kids were always hard. Bucky couldn’t shake the worry he felt over the smoke inhalation.

Your shoulder knocks against his softly, just before the doors to your floor open and you step away. “You should come for dinner, if you’re not too beat. I know Ophelia would love to see her favorite firefighter.”

“I’m the only firefighter she knows.” Bucky smiles teasingly, but he steps out of the elevator after you. You raise your eyebrows and Bucky holds his hands up in surrender. “I would love to. Thank you, sunshine.”

You smile brightly, and the skin around your eyes crinkle and your eyes sparkle, Bucky is hit with how well the nickname fits you.

“Come on, firefighter Barnes.” You nod your head begin the walk down the hallway towards your apartment.

“Hey, wait,” Bucky reaches out to take the bags from your hands, “let me get these for you. I can’t believe it took me this long to grab them.”

You let him grab them easily, but stop to look at him with worry on your face. “You sure? You look dead on your feet, Buck.”

He walks ahead of you, already knowing the way to your apartment, and turns to look over his shoulder with a reassuring grin. “Never too tired to carry groceries for my favorite girl.”

You scrunch your nose up with a smile. He knows it’s not out of confusion, he refers to both of you as his favorite girls all the time, he just likes seeing the smile you shoot his way when says something like, “Obviously I mean O, I know she’s starving and her favorite mac and cheese is in here.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” You push his shoulder blade and Bucky fakes a stumbling step. “I get it. She’s cooler, funnier, cuter, and all that jazz.”

Bucky looks down at his feet. “As long as you know where you stand.” When he looks up again, you’re swerving around him and stopping in front of your door with your keys out. When you stuff your key into the lock, Bucky nudges your foot with his to get you to look over at him. “If it makes you feel better, you’re a close second.”

“You are too.” You smile softly, then laugh. “I mean, my favorite person not my favorite girl.” You turn the lock and push the door open.

Bucky smiles to himself. His heart always beat a little faster when you let your affection for him slip through the cracks.

You were warm, but you protective of your daughter, it was the only reason Bucky was so nervous to ask for more. He knew the last thing you wanted to do was rip someone out of your daughter’s life after she’s lost so much and that’s why the two of you had stayed in this gray area of a little more than friends.

“Bucky!” Ophelia squeals as soon as she notices him behind you. Bucky smiles wide as she hops off of her grandmother’s lap and makes a mad dash towards him. He drops the bags at his feet and squats down with open arms.

Ophelia crashes into him, her little arms wrapping around his neck, and Bucky squeezes her in return. He turns his head and presses a kiss to the crown of her head before pulling back to look at her. “Boy am I glad to see you, O.”

She grins, a bashful one, before leaning into to give him another hug. “Missed you!”

“It’s like I’m not even here.” You say to your grandmother as she begins to gather her things. “You can stay here! Eat with us.”

Your grandmother presses a kiss to your cheek, laughing softly as she passes through the kitchen and stops by Bucky and Ophelia. “Come here. I know I don’t compare to this one but I deserve a hug too.”

Bucky laughs as he stands, Ophelia still holding onto hand, and gives your grandmother a half hug. “Have a good night!”

“When are you going to marry this boy, my love? Too sweet to your girls.” She pinches Bucky’s cheeks and he feels himself flush as you begin to splutter.

You pick up the bags from Bucky’s feet and shake your head at them. “I’m not get married right now.” You say to your grandmother. She shrugs and gives Bucky a conspiratorial look before moving towards you door again.

“Bucky! Do you want to see my drawing?” Ophelia begins to tug on his hand. He follows her easily, glancing at you as they pass by. You smile easily, waving him off like you know he feels awful for leaving you to put groceries away on your own.

Bucky nods and looks down at the little girl again. “Of course I do!”

She looks so much like you. You deny it every time he makes a comment about it and say she got so much of father, but Bucky wouldn’t really know.

All he sees are your eyes. Your smile. Your hair. He hears your laugh. And you never talk about her father. He’s never seen any pictures, so he wouldn’t know and he won’t press.

“It’s you!” Ophelia says sweetly as she pushes the drawing towards him. Bucky feels like his heart is going burst out of his chest at the look of adoration on her face. “With your truck! And with Twix!” She points to each piece of the drawing as she talks.

Bucky is standing beside a lopsided firetruck and the firehouse dog, Twix, who Ophelia had only met once when Bucky had brought her home because Steve was out of town, and then he notices what he presumes to be Ophelia and you.

“And who is this?” He points to the drawn Ophelia.

“Me!” She leans against his shoulder and points to the drawing of you. “And that’s mommy! It’s all of us!”

Bucky smiles so wide his cheeks ache, but he can’t bring himself to care. Not as Ophelia leans against him like he’s her favorite person in the entire world.

And certainly not as you watch from your place in the kitchen with soft eyes.

“I love it, Ophie.” Bucky says genuinely. “Can I bring it home with me? To hang on my fridge?” He already had a couple drawings up there. One was from a little boy who was thanking Bucky for saving his dog from the roof and the other from Ophelia depicting Twix.

She nods excitedly, Bucky looks over at you in the kitchen watching them. You just smile kindly at him, not saying anything, like you knew Bucky needed this.

You did. He knows you did. You had a knack for knowing when Bucky was coming off the hard shifts. From the first day you had met him, your eyes had trailed over his face almost like you recognized the far away look in his eyes and you had offered him some of the peach cobbler that was tinfoil wrapped in your hand.

Then you had introduced him to Ophelia and Bucky had found comfort in your family of two. Found comfort in the way you so effortlessly raised her with kindness and gentleness that made Bucky’s heart skip a beat every time he got to witness it.

‘Thank you.’ He mouths and your smile widens, but you still say nothing.

You don’t have to.

— ➶

Steve never said much about Bucky’s friendship with you. He knew it wasn’t like any friendship Bucky had and he probably knew that Bucky was in love with you, but he never asked.

Not until he saw the drawings. “These from Ophelia?” He had met her recently, and you, when you had stopped by the station together to drop off a plate of cookies.

(“She insisted.” You had grinned as you gently shoved the plate of cookies into his hands. “Her favorite firefighter needed some sweets and it’s my day off, so… I figured why not.”

Bucky’s heart had felt like it was going to fall out of his chest as he looked down at Ophelia, looking around the station in awe.

He loved you so much it ached. “Let me show you around.” He nodded his head towards the back of the station, where the kitchen and most of his crew were.

The two of you had followed willfully, nodding as Bucky pointed out the fire pole, the bunk room, the trucks. You listened silently as Ophelia oohed and awed at everything.

“Hey, Buck.” Steve had said from his spot at the kitchen table. Sam was stirring something on the stove, Natasha beside him as they chatted quietly. They smiled at Bucky and the two girls beside him, said hello, and went back to chatting.

Bucky swallowed, oddly nervous to introduce the two of you. He had talked about you a lot. Talked about the dinners, the elevator chats, the way Bucky had started to feel like a piece of family. “Steve,” he gestured towards you and Ophelia, “these are my neighbors, you know…”

Steve nodded, gave Bucky a look he was too afraid to decipher, and knelt down to say hello to the little girl clinging to your hand. “Nice to meet you, Ophelia. I’ve heard a lot about you.”)

Bucky nodded, a soft look on his face as he looked over i the drawings. “Yeah. She gave them to me after our last shift, like she knew it had been a rough one. I think that mom of hers always know when I need it.” Bucky smiles to himself, thinking of your nonchalant invitations and warm home.

Steve nodded and didn’t say anything for a moment. Bucky watched as his eyes trailed over the two drawings with Ophelia’s eight year old signature in the corner. “What’s going on with you two?”

“What do you mean?” Steve knew the two of you were friends, Bucky talked about you guys all the time and he never mentioned it being anything more. He had never even mentioned his feelings for you. “We’re friends.”

Steve hums in response, his eyes landing on a photo strip held up by a Los Angeles Zoo magnet. “You look more like a family.” He points out.

“We are, kind of.” Bucky shrugs. “I don’t know. You’re my family too. You know I haven’t heard from Becca in years, not since my parents funeral. I like to think I’ve got myself a little found family out here.”

Steve’s eyes soften. It’s not pity, he knows Bucky hates those pitying looks when it comes to his family situation, but’s something sad. “I am, Buck. You have. I just don’t want you to get attached to something you can’t have.”

“Something I can’t have?” Bucky asks incredulously. He feels his entire face twist with hurt at Steve’s observation. “Why not?”

Steve looks down at his feet. “Have you and her talked about it? Talked about being more than friends,” at Bucky’s look, he smiles, “or whatever you are now?” 

“No.” Bucky says, confusion evident in his tone. “Not really. I don’t want to push her into something she’s not ready for, you know? She hasn’t really spoken of her ex, but I know he left her with some issues.” 

“I’m not trying to pick a fight with you, Buck.” Steve says placatingly. “You’re my brother. I just worry...” He trails off and Buck instantly knows that there’s more he wants to say. 

Bucky raises his eyebrows, waits Steve out. Steve sighs. “I just don’t want you to build this family ideal with her then she finds someone else, or just ditches you when she doesn’t want you anymore.” 

Bucky has to bite back a rude response. He forces in a deep breath. “Kind of feels like you’re picking a fight.” Bucky says a little coldly. “Feels like you don’t trust my judgement. Like you’re questioning one of the most important people in my life and telling me that she doesn’t really want anything with me.”

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. “Have you asked? About what she wants with you?”

“Well,” Bucky pauses. No. He had always been too afraid, and Steve knows that. “No. She has a daughter. A relationship isn’t just something you can jump into when you have a kid, I know that. I understand. I won’t push her.”

“It’s not pushing to ask, Buck.” Steve says gently. “I’m just… I just don’t want you to lose it all. I really think you should ask, just figure her out a little more before you’re left with drawings from a little girl you never get to see anymore.”

Bucky stares at him. The feelings twist and churn inside him. Nausea settles in his stomach and his head aches because no matter how defensive - protective - he felt over his relationship with you, Steve had a point.

He was attached to something, claimed something, that may not actually be his to claim. 

— ➶

Steve’s line of questioning leaves Bucky in a difficult position. On one hand, he feels protective over his relationship with you. He knew you and he knew you cared about him and that everything you did, you did with your daughter at heart. 

On the other hand, it had been five years since you had moved to Los Angeles. A few years of whatever it was you and Buck were, dinners the three of you, gifts for birthdays and holidays, and newly, stops by the fire-station. Things that made him think that maybe you wanted something more too. 

“Barnes.” Natasha’s voice snaps him out of it as she pulls out the chair across from him. “Why are so out of sorts? I swear Tony is about to send you home.”

Bucky furrows his eyebrows. “Why? It’s not like I’ve fucked anything up today or disobeyed any orders.”

“Because he’s worried about you?” Her tone is questioning and Bucky can see in her eyes that she’s worried too. “You’ve been in your head all day. I mean, I know you’re the broody type, but you’re normally a little funny.” She grins.

Bucky snorts and looks down at his fingers tapping against his knee cap. “Steve’s just got me worried about some stuff,” he risks a glance back up at Nat before looking down again, “and I’m feeling weird. I’ll get over it.”

“Is it the stuff with your girl? The one who lives in your apartment building?” She asks knowingly, and Bucky supposes she would be privy the the knowledge of his and Steve’s conversation considering her relationship with Steve.

He nods. “He just… I know Steve can be protective, he was there for the shit with my sister, and he’s like my brother so it makes me feel…” Bucky trails off, he had never been good with expressing how much he appreciated Steve and his found family at this station. “I appreciate it. I just… It just sucked for him to pop my bubble. I really like her, Nat. Him being weary of her kind of sucks.”

It’s silent in the kitchen as Natasha watches him. Bucky has always felt embarrassingly open when Natasha watched him. Her eyes are sharp and focused and she’s always been able to read people.

“Steve has a huge heart and he cares about you so much, Buck. You’re the brother he never had.” Natasha looks over her shoulder, as if she expects him to pop up at her mention of him. Bucky wouldn’t be all that shocked if he did. “I think… I think you protected him for so long, that he feels like he has to repay you somehow and that not being able to fix what happened with your sister made him feel like he failed.”

“It’s not like he could have stopped her from cutting me out.” Bucky says quietly.

She smiles softly. “I know. He knows, it’s just… It’s hard to accept, I think.” She shakes her head, then reaches across the table to tap the back of Bucky’s hand. “He wants to protect you this time, but don’t let him scare you out of something good. I hear the way you talk about them, see the way you look at them. You owe it to yourself to give it a shot, everybody else’s opinion be damned.”

“When did you go soft on me, Romanoff?” Bucky pushes away from table when they hear footsteps come towards the kitchen.

She smiles, but doesn’t say anything.

Bucky swallows, give it a shot.

— ➶

“Hey! Firefighter Barnes, how are you today?” You smile brightly as you open the door. Ophelia squela as Bucky drops the leash and allows Twix to barrel into the apartment. “Thanks for bringing Twix over, she’s been talking about it all week.”

Bucky smiles in thanks as he follows you into the kitchen. “Of course. Anything for that girl, you know that.”

“Yeah.” You say quietly, a smile brightening your face as you begin to pull wrapped dishes out of the oven, like you had been keeping them warm for him. “Ophelia, remember to be gentle. Twix is Mr. Steve’s pet and he trusts you enough to let you play with her.”

Ophelia looks up from her spot beside the golden retriever. “I know, mama. You already talked to me about the responsibility.” Ophelia can’t quite pronounce the word correctly and it makes Bucky grin as she goes back to petting Twix.

“Responsibility.” You correct, making it a point to pronunciate the word for her, but Ophelia is too wrapped up in the world of Twix the dog and you go ignored. You roll your eyes fondly before turning to look at Bucky. “How are you, Buck?”

He shrugs, moving to unwrap the dishes. “I’m okay. I appreciate the meal, but you didn’t have to do this. I could’ve cooked at home.”

“I wanted to. I love cooking, besides, you look like you could use a break. Rough shift?” You ask quietly, gently pushing him to side as you begin to make a plate.

Bucky watches for a silent moment, enjoying how you look confidently moving around your kitchen. “Yeah.” He breathes out when you look over your shoulder encouragingly. “Car accident on Sunset. It was bad. We,” he looks over at Ophelia and lowers his voice, “lost someone. One second he was there, joking with us about how upset his wife was gonna be and the next he was gone.” 

“Oh, Buck.” You say softly. You reach out and give his hand a gentle squeeze before moving to lean with your back against the counter as Buck takes the plate from your hands and rests it on the counter behind him. “I’m sorry.” 

He shrugs and looks down at his feet. They didn’t respond to fatal calls all that often. Car accidents? Yeah. Fires? Swimming accidents? Cats in trees? People stuck in things they shouldn’t be stuck in? Medical calls? Yes to all of it, but fatal calls were a lot rarer than people thought. 

Common enough that Bucky and the rest of his crew have come up with ways to deal with it, but rare enough that when they do happen there are moments of grief. What could they have done differently? Was this person at peace? 

Bucky couldn’t stop thinking about the realization on the man’s face when he coughed up blood. He was laughing one moment, coughing up blood the next and then making Bucky promise to tell his wife how sorry he was that he wouldn’t be home for dinner. 

‘She loves cooking. I love her cooking. Tell her I’m sorry I won’t be home for dinner.’ Bucky had nodded with tears in his eyes as the man coughed again, as his heart rate spiked then stopped. 

“Too much internal bleeding.” Natasha had said gently, her hand rubbing Bucky’s shoulder. “He was bleeding too much and too fast for us to get it under control.” 

“It’s okay.” Bucky rubs the bottom of his nose harshly with the back of his hand, trying to hide the tears and sniffles. There had been flowers in the passenger seat of the car. “Just... I hate losing people. Even worse when I have to inform the family.” 

Your eyes grow wide and wet at Bucky’s admission. “You went?” You ask quietly. “I’m sure someone else could have passed the message along. Someone who wasn’t there.” 

“Yeah. Officer Strange offered to do it for me. I just... I promised him, you know? I couldn’t save him so the least I could do is let his wife know what he said.” Bucky wraps his arms around himself like it can be some kind of comfort. 

(“I’m so sorry for your loss.” 

She had fallen to her knees, screams of agony coming for her lips as Bucky and Stephen tried to prevent her from hitting the ground too hard. “There was too much internal damage. He was declared deceased on the scene.” Strange finishes for Bucky when he realizes Bucky won’t be able to.

Bucky had swallowed thickly, tears threatening to fall as he kneeled down in front of her and held her hands in his. “He told me how much he loved you. And your cooking. And that he’s sorry he couldn’t make it home for dinner.” 

Buck knows, looking at her sobbing, that this image will stay with him for the rest of his life.)

“I’ll never know how anybody does that part of the job.” Bucky admits, wiping harshly at the tears on his cheeks. “It’s... it’s awful.” 

You crowd against him, you arms wrapping around Bucky’s waist tightly. “I’m so sorry Bucky.” You murmur into his chest, not letting him go. Bucky wraps his arms around you and pushes his face into you hair and breathes in. 

“Hugs!” Ophelia cheers, rushing into the kitchen beside you two. You laugh gently wrapping one loose arm around her shoulders as Ophelia wraps herself around both of your legs. Bucky smiles, a genuine smile, and runs a hand over her hair. 

“Thank you.” He presses a kiss to your temple and relishes in the comfort of his two favorite girls. Any worries or questions he had pushed to the back burner. There were bigger things to deal with right now and you were helping him through it. 

That’s what mattered. 

— ➶

Once Ophelia’s in bed, and you’ve opened a bottle of wine, Bucky starts to think about what it would be like to kiss you. It’s not a new thought, not really, but his inhibitions are lowered and he really wants to know what that banana chapstick you wear tastes like.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You giggle, softly and relaxed, your own wine glass heading towards it’s third refill. 

Bucky grins, his head resting on the back of your couch as he stares at you. “Like what?” 

“Like...” You take another sip of your wine, eyes narrowing at Bucky as his own smile widens. “All warm and gooey.” That makes Bucky laugh loudly, so loudly that your hand flies over to cover his mouth as you shush him, your own hysteric giggles coming out. “Bucky! She’s asleep!” 

It makes Bucky’s chest ache with want. He wants this, so much. The late night glasses of wine and quiet laughter as Ophelia sleeps down the hall. A movie he won’t be able to recall by the time he falls asleep because he’s so focused on you. 

“I don’t think gooey is a look, sunshine.” Bucky finally whispers, pulling your hand away before letting it go. You grin, something sweet, before reaching up to play with a strand of hair that’s loosely hanging over his forehead. 

You hum. Bucky’s heart races. “If you saw the way you were looking at me right now, you’d see what I meant.” You whisper in response. 

“Hey.” Bucky starts, blinking up at you. “Sunshine, if I... If I kissed you right now what would you say?” 

Your eyes widen. Bucky’s heart doesn’t stop racing. You open your mouth, and, “Mama?” you both jump. 

“Hey, baby.” You move off the couch quickly. “What are you doing awake?” Your maternal voice is on instantly and the moment, the sweet, soft moment full of the kind of warmth that Bucky constantly craves, is gone. 

Ophelia shrugs. “I woke up and Mr. Bear was gone.” Bucky bites back a smile at the name. The creativity of a young child shining through. “I can’t find him, Mama.”

“And you can’t sleep without him.” You sigh, standing up straight. You look over your shoulder, apologetic eyes on Bucky, and he waves you off. “I should get going anyways. A secret between you and me, Steve and I are going ring shopping tomorrow morning. I should have been in bed hours ago.” 

It seems to lift whatever weight had settled over your shoulders and you nod. “Okay, love. Let’s go find Mr. Bear.” 

He’s undoubtedly stuffed between the wall and Ophelia’s bed, or under it, but Bucky feels the flush of embarrassment as soon as you turn your back. It’ll only take five minutes to find, ten to put Ophelia back to sleep, and Bucky could wait. 

He doesn’t. He snaps his fingers, Twix appearing from her spot underneath the dining table, and lets her follow him out into the hallway. Your front door slamming softly behind them.

You had looked to him for an out when Ophelia had come out, and Bucky had given it to you, even if it felt like he was breaking his heart in the process.

— ➶

“You almost kissed her then Ophelia came out?” Steve asks again as his eyes trail over the case of jewelry in front of them. The sales associate is watching them with thinly veiled interest and Bucky groans.  

He glances at the associate again. “I asked to kiss her, she said nothing, then Ophelia came out asking about Mr. Bear. I booked it, dude.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I can take a hint, she did not want a kiss.” 

Steve snorts, the associate does too but he as least attempts to cover it up with a cough. “Can I see these?” Steve points to a small case of emerald cut diamonds. The associate nods and moves to unlock it and Steve looks up at Bucky. “I think you’re overreacting. She probably wasn’t expecting it. That doesn’t mean she didn’t want you to kiss her.” 

The case is set in front of them and Steve looks down. “You didn’t see her face, Steve. I don’t think I’m reading it wrong.” His eyes catches a smaller ring, something simple, and Buck points at it. “She wants something simple. Nat hates gaudy stuff.” 

“You should talk to her. At the very least so things aren’t awkward.” Steve pushes the case back to the associate and points down at the oval cut, single diamond that Bucky had noticed. “Can I see that one?” 

Bucky looks down at the ring. “She would love this.” He says quietly. Steve nods. “Is this the one?” The associate grins. 

“You should talk to her, Buck.” Steve says, still staring down at the ring. ‘If she wants to be with you, then you’ll finally be with her. If she doesn’t, you’ll know and be able to find your person.” He smiles at the associate, handing the ring back. “I think we have.” 

Bucky’s phone vibrates. He slaps a hand against Steve’s shoulder. “I’m happy for you, dude. Sorry about the price tag, but happy for you.” He grins at the associate, whose lips have flattened in annoyance, before stepping away to check his phone while Steve discusses payment. 

There’s a text from you, a photo of Ophelia grinning at the camera, Mr. Bear in her arms. Bucky smiles. 

Crisis Averted. 

Can I come over tonight? So we can talk? 

Bucky sucks in a shaky breath.

Yeah. Please. 

— ➶

Bucky is full of nervous energy. He shifts the vase of flowers that sits on his entryway table once, then twice, then a third time before he stuffs his hands into his pockets. 

He knows that this won’t ruin anything, that if you say you don’t want to be with him like that then you two will remain friends. He’s confident in the bond you’ve built, but he’s worried about the ache in his chest not going away even as the months continue on. As summer turns to fall and fall to winter, Bucky will still revolve around you.

There’s a knock at his door. Bucky sucks a deep breath in before opening it. “Hey.” You grin up at him, Bucky tries to grin back but he knows it looks forced. “Thanks for letting me come over. You left so quickly last night, I didn’t even get the chance to...”

“I’m sorry.” Bucky blurts out, effectively cutting you off. You pause, and Bucky forges on. “I didn’t. I mean, I did. I do. I just, was tipsy, and usually I keep it to myself, but you looked so pretty and I thought what the hell!” He laughs, a little hysterically, as you stare at him with wide eyes. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to make you uncomfortable.” 

Your eyes track him as he takes a step away from you, but your hand reaches out and wraps around his wrist. “Buck, breathe.” Bucky listens, inhaling deeply. “I wasn’t uncomfortable. Fuck, Bucky, I’ve had a crush on you since we moved in. I just... There’s a huge difference between being friends with a single mom and dating one, and most guys don’t mind being friends but run at the idea of a relationship.” 

Maybe for the first time since he asked to kiss you, Bucky’s heart slows to a normal rhythm. “I would never run from that with you, sunshine. That’s... That’s all I’ve wanted with you since the first time you and Ophelia invited me over for dinner.” 

“It’s not... It’s not always giggles and drawings and you being their favorite person.” You push, not stepping any closing to Bucky, your hand still wrapped around his wrist. “It’s... It’s, her waking you up at five in the morning and being forced to share holidays and dates and trips with her, because I won’t put her on the back burner. I won’t, Buck. Not for anybody.” 

Bucky cups your cheek with one hand, his other twisting to lace your fingers together. “I would never ask you to, sunshine. She’s my favorite girl in the whole world, no offense,” He grins when you laugh softly, “and I love her. I want her opening presents way too early on Christmas morning and getting hyped up on sugar every birthday. I want to share blowing out the candles and hopefully one day I’ll get to share a bride with her too.” 

“A bride?” You ask softly. “You’d want to... You’d want to marry me?” 

Bucky nods. If he was twenty and at the academy again he’d probably be embarrassed by the tears welling in his eyes, but he’s not, so he just shrugs and lets you see the glassy blue. “I’ve known you for five years now, sunshine. I think I’ve been in love with you for 4.9 of them.” 

“That doesn’t make sense, I don’t think that’s how that ratio would work out.” you murmur, your own eyes welling up, and words a little muffled by Bucky’s hand. 

Bucky laughs. “Shut up.” He takes a step towards you. “I’m gonna kiss you now, okay?”

“Please.” You smile at him and Bucky feels like he’s glowing with it as he meets your lips with his. His eyes slide shut and he just feels so fucking warm with it, with the kiss. It’s nothing like the Los Angeles sun that leaves his nose a little red, nothing like the warmth of Steve’s stare or of Nat’s smile. 

It’s comforting. 

It feels like coming home. 

— ➶

notes -> UMMM hi? is this.... tee.... posting the firefighter fic she talked about months ago? it IS! this went. a completely different direction than what i originally planned, but i’m still kind of in love with it, so i hope you enjoy it too. 

as always, comments & reblogs are appreciated. 

P.S - Bonus Scene  ->

You love the way Bucky describes things. 

The way things he loves are warm, like your home and your friends and Ophelia.

You kind of understand it now, why he says it, as you listen to him and Ophelia from your spot hidden in the hallway. 

The door to her bedroom is open, and you heard their laughter as soon as you stepped into the apartment, and it just makes you feel warm, like the comfort of your favorite blanket wrapped around you during a rainstorm. 

They’re whispering about a ring you found hidden in Bucky’s drawer in the bathroom when you were searching for his cologne. “Do you think mama will like it?” 

“Yes!” Ophelia giggles. “It’s like a real princess ring.” 

You smile, make sure to shut the door a little louder than necessary. “I’m home!” You call out, giving Bucky time to stuff the ring back into his pocket and shush Ophelia. “There are my two favorite people!”

You grin as you stop in her doorway. Bucky’s eyes are a warm blue, filled with love, and Ophelia’s conspiratorial giggles make your heart settle in a way that only she can. 

You can’t wait to say yes. 

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes writing #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes oneshot #james bucky barnes x reader

[outcastpack]

WIP Wednesday Game (by @kedreeva )

It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog of this post (so people can find you in the notes) or new thread (w/ rules attached) if you want to play on your own, post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to play!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event or gift fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. I’ll be searching the reblogs to find people to send asks to!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

Requested/Friend event mentions under the cut! If you'd like to be pinged next week, send me a message to ask!

----------

Tagged by @equallyloyalandlethal

File names

Thiam as Jasher rewrite

Liams Bi crisis

Guiding Light

Morning after (Thiam as dads)

Cyberwolf

Snippet from : Liam's BI crisis

Buck entered his apartment, letting out a relieved sigh at being able to sleep for the next few hours after a long twenty four hour shift. That and the fact he was still reeling from his first kiss with a guy.

Something he didn't even know he had wanted untill Tommy's lips met his own.

He had been in the haze ever since. This confusion because he wanted to do it again... and again and again.

Walking towards his stairs to head to the second level of the loft, he froze as a bag sat on his kitchen counter pulled his attention.

He frowned at the bag. That wasn't his bag. He didn't own a bag like that. He was carrying his only bag on his body right now.

Instantly the hairs on the back of his neck rose. Something wasn't right.

The aroma of a take out hit his nose.... was that.... Chinese food?

Buck slowly dropped his own bag, wincing at the loud thud it made as it hit the floor. He reached over to grab the bat he had stashed by the stairs slowly so as not to draw any attention to himself.

He could see someone in his living room area spawled across the couch..... whoever it was was sleeping? Faint snores just about reaching Bucks ears.

He grabbed the bat, walking towards the figure. He really wasn't in the mood for whatever bullshit was happening right now.

"Hey!" He shouted, bat raised.

Two things happened simultaneously. The sprawled figure jackhammered upwards, shouting a loud confused 'what' before sliding off the couch face first to the floor.

"Ow." The figure - no the boy - groaned, slowly climbing to his feet. Buck cleared his throat, alerting the boy to his presence but the bat still gripped tight in his hands.

The boys head whirled up to face him. Buck felt his own face grown confused and very exasperated, blinking at the blatant teenager that should be miles away and not in LA.

"Uncle Ev!" The boy shouted, sounding nervous based on the crack in his voice as he shifted on the spot with a small, just as obviously nervous smile. Blue eyes flickering between Buck, the bat, and the phone on the table.

"Liam......" Buck said, the smile on Liam’s face widening at being recognised. It had been three years since he last seen the kid.

"Please don't tell my mom."

And obviously, the kid was looking to have his other older sister kill him.

Tagging @chasing-chimeras @transdunbar @wolfboy88 @thiamsxbitch @ksbbb @rd-eternity and anyone else that wants to

(Sorry if anyone's done it already)

#WIP #my writing #wip wednesday game #tag game #liams bi crisis #jenna geyer buckley sibling

[vegetable-man]

Eddie, By the Book

A/N: You guys are so sexy for 100+ notes on my first ever fic. Come kiss me on the lips fr. I love a blue collar man. Eddie is a Mechanic because that’s so sexy why not. The kids are in their senior year of high school, if that helps with timeline. Eddie has been a mechanic for about 3 years and he’s pretty good at it. Wayne taught my boy. Enjoy :) ***inspired by buck meeks’ joe by the book*** 

Eddie, By the Book

For his eighteenth birthday, Lucas Sinclair bought a new car.

Well, it wasn’t new persay, but it was enough to make him puff up his chest when he would drive Max to and from school or pick her up for a dinner date. It didn’t matter that the engine shook when the temperature was below 45 degrees… right? God forbid he would have to send it to Hawkins’ only mechanic and get charged more than it was worth to fix it.

That’s what went through Lucas’ mind as he drove slowly through the streets of Hawkins.

Now, you might ask where he was going, and he would tell you that he was going to the mechanic anyway. But, with three passengers Dustin, Will, and Mike, it wouldn’t be such a plausible story. The truth was that he and his best friends were going to meet up with Max and Eleven to watch the new space invaders. It was embarrassing that he was now stranded with a stalled car.

“What the fuck are we going to do now?” Mike muttered and kicked the back wheel.

“I don’t know man, maybe we can ask El to ask Hopper to pick us up?” Lucas was trying to solve the problem before Mike blew up at him.

“No, that’s embarrassing Lucas! You know what, maybe, we should call your mom and ask her to drop us off”

“We can’t do that”

“Yes we can Lucas, and I’m going to call her right now” Mike opened the backseat door to grab his cinderblock telephone, courtesy of El who wanted to make sure he could always answer her calls even when he was out.

Lucas beat him to it and slammed the door shut before Mike could reach for the phone next to Will who seemed entirely unbothered.

“If we call my mom I’ll never hear the end of it. We can’t call her, she told me not to buy the car Mike! Just because you’re going to miss making out with-“

“Yeah Lucas! I’m going to miss making out with my GIRLFRIEND who actually likes me. You’re not missing anything with Max. You should get paid to waste my time because you’re pretty fucking good at it-“

“Guys, guys, GUYS!” Dustin interrupted. “I have an idea.” Looking at both Mike and Lucas in the eyes as they calmed down to pay attention to him, Dustin spoke “we can push it down to the Auto shop and have Eddie take a look”

Lucas interrupted “listen man, I don’t have the money to be spending on getting this shit fixed, honestly, let’s call El and she can move it with her-“

“Yeah you would use my girlfriend to fix your problems. When do you ever-“

And they went at it again.

Five minutes later, Lucas realized he had no choice but to push it four miles down the road to the Auto shop where Eddie worked. It was embarrassing directing a four-man crew to push his car through Hawkins.

“Yank the wheel Will, make sure it’s in Neutral!” Dustin yelled.

Will responded with a silent thumbs up extended out the driver’s side window.

As the three boys pushed the car, and Will drove it, Dustin reassured Lucas that Eddie could fix his car for less than he paid for it.

“No seriously Lucas, he’s by the book, he fixed Y/N’s Cadillac a while back and he didn’t even charge her for it. Lent her a car in the meantime and everything”

“Dustin, we’re missing something here” Lucas stopped pushing to look at Dustin “He’s not in love with me”

Dustin laughed “yeah well obviously, he’s not gonna do your shit for free, I’m just saying”

Lucas sighed.

….

Two years ago

While you recently enrolled in a local college, slowly getting a degree part-time, Eddie had been working at Riley’s Auto Shop for a year and a half. It was an easy hire when he finally graduated high school. Wayne knew a guy, who knew a guy sorta thing. Truth was, Eddie was a master at working with his hands. Back when he got his first car, the van he oh so loved, he almost took the entire thing apart just to put it back together again.

When you asked what he was doing, he said, “I need to see behind the curtain sweetheart, what am I gonna do when this thing blows up?”

And he was right. Not so much as two months later, the transmission blew. Luckily, Eddie (with a little help from Wayne) quickly figured out how to fix it and got his baby back on the road in less than a day. It was an ego booster in the way that Eddie hadn’t known, apart from you of course, and he then became the trailer park’s own mechanic.

That’s why, when your car was making a humming noise before almost-not starting, you went crying to Eddie.

Of course, this was an overstatement, even if you did have tears in your eyes when you pulled up to the shop.

The crunch of your tires on the cracked asphalt alerted Eddie that a new customer was pulling in. He thought that it was probably some teenager coming in to get their oil changed or a new inspection, rolling his eyes and coming out from underneath a BMW which needed an electrical fix.

Wiping his hands on a nearby rag, Eddie walked a bit out of the garage to see that it was, in fact, you in the parking lot. Eddie immediately smiled and waved, happy to see his best friend, a girl he had been in love with since the fourth grade, visiting him at work. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. You had brought him lunch so many times before that Eddie thought he had swooned more than any man had ever on the history of earth.

His smile faltered as he saw you, red-rimmed eyes, step out of the car and towards him.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” He opened his arms to hug you and despite the black oil stains on his white tank top, you fell into his embrace.

With your head against the upper right side of his chest, tucked between his chin and shoulder, you sniffed “something’s wrong with my car teddy.”

He looked down at you on his chest and squeezed your waist “well, that’s not a problem you know I can fix it for you.” He tried to send you a soft smile to reassure you, tilting his head down but he couldn’t reach your eyes.

After a bit of silence, and you soaking up the small caresses that Eddie was dragging across your back and up and down your arms, Eddie tried to crack you again “what’s wrong bub, why are you so upset?”

Eddie always knew how to slip through the walls, and he knew he hit a nerve when he could feel your shoulders shake and head bury further into the tendrils of hair fallen out of his bun.

“I have a test tomorrow,” you choked “and I’m trying to study but I’m stressed about my car and I’m not even going to be able to drive to school tomorrow. Teddy, I’m just frustrated and embarrassed.”

“Why are you embarrassed?” He asked, confused.

“I don’t know, I just am.”

Without missing a beat, Eddie said “Take my car”

“Huh?”

“Honey, take my car, and I’ll figure out what’s wrong with your little monster” Eddie was soothing and his big hands were keeping your shoulders and waist close to his torso. You could smell the sweat and feel the vibrations of his low tone as he tried to save you some grief.

“No Eddie, I can’t” you breathed “If I can make-“

“What am I if I can’t fix your problems Y/N?” Eddie had always felt his responsibility to take on a portion of the burdens that you faced, even when he knew you were more than equipped to handle them. It made him feel useful, it made him feel like a man. Something that his father tried so hard to take away from him when he was a kid. Eddie wanted to care for you, he wanted to show you he could be there and provide for you. That if you were in a pinch, you wouldn’t panic because you knew ‘Eddie’s coming to fix it’.

With a kiss to your temple, Eddie dug his car keys out of his work pants pocket and handed them to you.

“Go home, eat something, study, and come back tomorrow. I’ll have this all figured out okay?” Eddie looked at you in the eyes as you sniffled and then kissed his cheek.

“Okay, but if you can’t fix it tonight it’s okay I promise, and tell me how much-“

“Go home sweetheart” he chided.

“Okay, love you”

“I love you too”

Eddies heart always raced when you said that. As much as he was in love with you, and he knew you were in love with him, he felt it necessary to prove to you he could be good for you before he officially asked you out.

As if he hadn’t been proving that since the fourth grade.

…

“Apparently it was a really hard job but he got it done for her in less than a day. I swear Lucas if there’s anyone who can fix this for you its Eddie.”

The four boys, and beat up car, were less than a mile away from the auto shop and, conveniently, outside of a gas station. Dustin, Mike, Lucas, and Will stopped in to get some drinks and snacks and cool off before going back outside and finishing the hike.

Sitting under the air conditioning unit, the boys couldn’t be bothered to look up when the doorbell rang to signal an incoming customer.

If they didn’t see him, they sure as hell heard him “Thirty on four please.”

As if they were stranded in a desert hearing the drip of water, all the boys head’s snapped up to see Eddie’s form retreating out of the gas station to the pump to fill a dark green Cadillac.

“EDDIE! EDDIE!” They yelled.

Eddie almost dropped the large Smartfood bag and blue slushy as he tried to place it in the car and looked up to see four teenagers, no, young men, barreling toward him.

“Eddie!” Lucas breathed heavily. “I need-“

Dustin interrupted him “Lucas’ deadbeat car stalled and we’re late for a movie and listen, morale is low”

Eddie chuckled and looked around to find Lucas’ tan, minus the rust, car sitting on the side of the road. “Did you…. Push it all the way here?” Eddie inspected the young men’s sweaty shirts and damp hair.

Yeah, they pushed it all the way here.

Before they could answer, Eddie winced and shook his head. “Just get in the car.” They sighed in relief and went to open the doors “WAIT” Eddie yelled “this is the missus’ car, I don’t want to see a spec of dust or sweat or anything. Don’t eat in the car and don’t spill anything either.” He looked around at the four boys who vehemently nodded. “Okay, get in”

Eddie filled up the green Cadillac and then took off to the auto shop. It was not even a five minute drive, but nevertheless a thirty minute push from where Lucas’ car stood.

Pulling up to the auto shop, Dustin saw that Eddie was the only mechanic on shift. Metal was lowly playing on the radio. Weekends were pretty slow anyway, and Eddie liked to take it slow when he could. Getting out of the car with their snacks and drinks in tow, Eddie included, the five of them entered the air-conditioned office of the auto shop.

From a small window, Dustin could see you, head in one hand and pencil in the other. You looked to be concentrating on something, almost frustrated as you massaged your forehead and dropped your pencil to close your eyes and sigh. Eddie gently opened the door with his elbow, and walked into the lit room. You turned your head to look at Eddie and caught the eyes of the four boys. With an enthusiastic wave you smiled and then turned to Eddie, smile growing brighter at the sight of the popcorn and slushy in his hands.

He gently pecked you on the lips and placed the food and drink on the table with your papers. In lieu of holding the goods, his hands massaged your shoulders and he spoke to you softly.

Dustin could not catch the words he was saying to you. Probably something about how he now had another car to fix or that he wanted some slushy, Dustin had no idea.

Giving Eddie another kiss and a squeeze of his hand you turned back to the paper and Eddie left the room. He quietly closed the door and cleared his throat at the boys gawking at him.

“I’m gonna get the truck to tow your car,” he spoke directly to Lucas and then turned to the group entire “do not bother Y/N, she’s busy with homework, you can eat in the main office.”

Although the boys would have liked to talk to you for a bit, not having much time since you recently enrolled full time in your university, they respected the man who was going to fix Lucas’ car and, ultimately, get them to the movies. If Eddie said you were busy, you might as well have been drafting letters to the Pope.

If Lucas wanted to leave with his wallet intact, he would respect your space and Eddie’s commands.

Within five minutes, Eddie’s work truck was bounding down the road with Lucas’ car in tow. In another twenty minutes Eddie had diagnosed the car with a faulty fuel line and then immediately went to the car yard to get the part and patch the sucker up.

It took Eddie about forty minutes to fix the problem.

Lucas felt like he was floating, but then again, maybe it was his wallet from the bill Eddie was going to give him.

Lucas winced as Eddie wiped his hands on his work pants and timidly asked “How much Eddie?”

Eddie pretended to think, counting on his fingers and then suddenly looking at Lucas.

“Free”

“What?”

“Free, go to dinner or something.” Eddie turned towards the office.

“But-“

Eddie quickly interrupted, “Say hi to the girls for me!” and slammed the door of the office where you were still focused on the work in front of you.

Lucas looked around to the other three boys and quickly got into the car as if Eddie could change his mind at any moment. The boys were still outside the car, slowly moving towards the door when Lucas shouted a “LETS GO” and almost peeled out of the garage and towards the movie theaters to pick up the girls and, hopefully, make it up to them with some dinner.

Inside the office where you found yourself consumed by your homework, Eddie pulled up a chair next to you and leaned on your shoulder.

“That was so sexy” you poked at his thigh.

Eddie cheesed “who am I to get in the way of young love” leaning toward you and looking up into your eyes with the most love you’ve ever seen.

You gave a genuine belly laugh “you’re so stupid” you examined his face.

Eddie gave you a toothy smile and headbutted your shoulder as you picked up the pencil again and got back to work.

#mechanic!eddie #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie my beloved #eddie munson fic #eddie munson #i love a blue collar man oh my god please fix my car and send me heart eyes after #eddie munson fluff #eddie fluff

[singlethread]

ok i finished 911, and now that i have can you tell me more about the buck and eddie vision with any spoilers you might have been avoiding before

Okay so first lemme link you to my PowerPoint that’s goes through season 2 up the 6.09

And honestly the second half of season 6 is what has really stepped on the gas. When Buck got struck Eddie lost all sense of self preservation and just had to get to Buck, has to make sure he was okay. He ran up the ladder after just getting struck himself, without his line secured, while screaming Buck’s name. Then we he got there he tried to pull Buck up to him before realizing he was too heavy. Then he’s so quick to get back down to them, Bobby has to force Eddie away from Buck while chim is coding him and Bobby makes Eddie drive.

Then in the next episode Eddie switches out with chim and it’s actually Eddie to start Buck’s heart again, this show has had a lot of subtext and parallels when it comes to hearts and the fact that Eddie was the one to get his partners beating again just makes me scream. Then when the doctors say they’ll do their best it’s Eddie who yells at them desperately to “do more.” While Buck is in his coma Eddie is seen in all black like a mourning spouse when Christopher insists on seeing Buck. Eddie then sneaks his son into the icu to see Buck and then he can barely even look at Buck just lying there, and Hen has to take over explaining while Eddie just silently cries. The people closest with Buck were the ones who really struggled to look at him and those people were Maddie and Eddie. They just constantly frame Eddie so differently with Buck as opposed to the other members of the firefam.

A lot of us also believe that Buck didn’t see Eddie in his coma world because he might not have been able to leave, because with Eddie is his home, his safe space. It’s shown to be canon when Maddie keeps sending over babysitters for Buck. Buck could’ve gone anywhere or even just locked his door with a note pasted on it. But no, when Buck was overwhelmed by the world and his place in it, he went to Eddie’s and fell asleep before Eddie could even come back with a beer.

Couches are another explicit metaphor in season 6 which was established when Buck said he didn’t want to pick the wrong couch again. Then he chose himself by positioning his arm chair in the center of the room. Well then his mom came and forced a couch on him, an uncomfortable one he can’t seem to sleep on, but the couch he did manage to sleep on was Eddie’s!

Then we get to the poker date episode of it all. So first of all Eddie and Chris just come to Buck’s apartment to hang out and help Chris with homework and that’s the most married co-parenting shit I’ve ever seen. And when Buck looks at his two boys he just has the most content expression in his face. Then Eddie, knowing that Buck’s been sad, starts little schemes to cheer Buck up! Then they go out together in the nicest suits we have ever seen them in and Buck is just down for anything because its Eddie even though he has absolutely no idea what’s gonna happen. To have that level of trust with someone! Also when they talk about Buck being dead, everyone keeps saying he was dead for three minutes. But it is Eddie that points out that Buck was dead for three minutes and seventeen seconds. This man knows down to the fucking second how long he had to live in a world with Buck in it and that’s some of the most in love shit I’ve ever heard.

Then when Buck starts winning and having a good time Eddie has extreme heart eyes going, literally ducks his head down at one point bc he can’t contain his happiness seeing Buck having fun again. This is the same man who doesn’t let his kid win boggle, meanwhile he’s giggling while Buck beats everyone’s ass at poker. Then when Buck wins it’s just so implicitly understood that they’re partners, when the chief asks Buck how he wants his winnings Buck immediately looks to Eddie because it’s for both of them, same with the money they scammed earlier, Eddie grabs it out of Buck’s hands but there’s no “hey that’s mine” because it’s just understood that it’s the both of theirs.

Then Buck is hanging out with Chris helping him bake cookies for his school (HELLO THATS CHRIS’S OTHER DAD) and then uses the steaks that he and Eddie won together to cook for Christopher and that shit makes me melt so hard because it just does more to establish that they are a complete family unit.

Okay then Pepa starts setting up Eddie on dates and Buck who was ghosted by Abby and knows how much that sucks was just like “lol Eddie what if you ghost her” like sir, your subconscious jealously is showing. Then when Eddie goes on the date and she lets him down and even though he was gonna let her down he spirals about her not wanting him which is just such a queer experience. Then at the end he realizes that Pepa is right, he doesn’t want to be alone. But also he’s clearly not in love with the idea of going out with strangers so hmmm perhaps someone you already know intimately would be a good fit

Then when Buck goes out with natalia Eddie makes his feeling on the matter very clear. He also has a moment of realization that Buck isn’t okay and you can just see how much it affects him and a lot of us at this point believe that Eddie is at least somewhat aware of possible feelings for Buck. But also there’s such a sadness to Eddie because he’s ready for something now, but Buck clearly isn’t.

We also have confirmation that the couch metaphor is gonna keep playing out for the rest of season 6 and we also got another scene of Chris this time sleeping on the couch and it’s framed almost the exact same way as Buck’s scene was.

I just personally have to say I have never felt this was about a ship like this before, like something has truly fucking shifted this season and especially this half of the season. We have had a profound Buck and Eddie moment almost every episode since the lightning strike and that shit means something. This show is so purposeful in everything it does, and season 6 especially has shown that with how many callbacks we’ve gotten to things that happened in earlier seasons.

I just, I really do trust the writers and even if it doesn’t happen it is canon that Buck and Eddie and Christopher are a family unit and I just really love them so much.

#amelia answers asks #911 fox #911 abc #this probably has so many typos #buddie #Buck x Eddie #it’s 1:30 am but here you go Jasmine

[thesugarclubs-blog]

The Birthday - Bucky Barnes x OC

warnings: smut ( 18+, minors DNI), nervous Bucky

word count: 7.8k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1260414232-the-birthday-eden

Note: This was a special one shot written in celebration of Sebastian's birthday on August 13th. Yes, we know Bucky's birthday is in March, but trust us with this one, please!

Masterlist

The warm summer breeze ruffled Bucky's hair as he walked down the busy sidewalk. Night time in Brooklyn was always his favorite as a kid and still is, even though now it's a hell of a lot louder.

Despite the reassuring lights and sounds, a sense of anxiety washed over him as he approached the restaurant. Sam called a few hours ago and insisted that they meet to go over some new intel. It seemed weird to Bucky that they would meet at this ridiculously nice restaurant, but then again his best friend does a lot of shit that Bucky doesn't understand.

Dodging the small crowd of people smoking outside, he pushed open the door tentatively, his gut telling him something was off before he was met with the bright and smiley hostess. 

“Table for one?” She asked, already gathering a selection of menus in her hand.

“Uh, no I’m suppose to be meeting..” Bucky’s sentence was cut short as Sam jogged lightly over to him and clasped him on the shoulder. 

“Hey Buck, man you’re looking good!” Sam smiled brightly, causing Bucky to raise an eyebrow at him.

''Sam..'' he started but as he scanned the room, he spotted familiar faces sitting at a long table in the back of the room. Brows furrowed, Bucky looked at his best friend whose smile was reaching both his ears.

Bucky shook his head, "what the hell is this Sam?" 

Rolling his eyes as he watched Yelena slam her hand against a fork. The fork launched into the air, flipping and landing into a full glass of water that sprayed an excited Peter in the face.

"We're celebrating YOU, man. Happy belated birthday party kind of thing." Sam answered him loudly, a grin splitting his face at Bucky's reaction.

Bucky's wide-eyed gaze stayed trained on the table full of the people he loved - though he'd never willingly admit it to some of them - as his fingers fiddled with the sleeve of his navy blue button-down. He doesn't even know what to say to Sam, and that's definitely a first, there's no way all of them came out tonight just for him.

           🎂🎂🎂

I'll be fine, just waiting on Captain America's table, I’m fine, this is fine. Eden thought to herself as she approached the table with a bright smile plastered over her features, hiding the nervousness that sat in her stomach in a ball. "Good Evening guys, I'm Eden. I'll be taking care of you this evening." She said as she scanned the table, her eyes landing on a pair of blue eyes that even in the dim lighting she could tell were bright and ocean colored. She cleared her throat, feeling the blush creep up the back of her neck, "Wh--what can I get everyone to drink?"

"What'll it be, birthday boy? My treat! Or well, my mom's treat," a dark haired girl with a ponytail exclaimed, a wide smile painted on her face as she turned to the man with the steel blue eyes.

He blinked rapidly and glanced at the menu. Eden bit back a smile at the slightly confused look on his face.

Clearly he was a little overwhelmed by the choice and Eden’s eyes flitted to the next person along, the blonde girl on the end who was enthusiastically miming downing a tequila shot.

“Woah, no! This is a high end establishment, Lena. No shots…” Captain America said loudly, “not yet anyway, maybe bring out a round after the starters, something extra strong for Mr Tall, Dark and Brooding over here.”

Eden bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing, “Will do, sir!” She finished taking the rest of the table's order, doing her best not to keep staring at the man at the end of the table, until finally it was just him left. “Just a beer.. please” he mumbled.

Eden took a steadying breath as his crystal blue eyes bore into her. "Coming right up." she said, licking her dry lips. Even after she turned to walk up to the bar she felt his gaze burning into her back.

"Rowdy table?" Mark asked her as she took a deep breath, relaxing her tense shoulders and she pushed her long dark curly hair off her face. She looked past herself in the mirrored bar back to find the handsome man still staring at her while the rest of his friends laughed with each other.

"Yeah, it's a birthday celebration and they're going all out for him." Eden answered as she took a steadying breath, a slight heat flooding her cheeks. She couldn't take her eyes off of him through the mirror as Mark poured their drinks.

"He's cute," Mark said as he slid a pint glass full of beer across the bar so that Eden could put it on her tray. "You should talk to him-- and not, 'Is everything okay, sir?' Actually talk to him." Eden rolled her eyes and looked up to see the man with piercing blue eyes still staring at her, but he averted his gaze the second she caught him - both of them blushed.

She looked down at her tray and huffed out a laugh as she gathered their drinks to head back out. "Yeah sure, I'll make sure to talk to him in between their table and the lovely people at 15 who will most definitely not tip me."

Eden spun around with the drinks in her hand, carefully balancing them on her arm as she made her way back to the table, her eyes meeting the blue eyed man once more seeing the slight hitch in his breathing as she approached. She began placing everyone's drinks down in their designated homes, remembering perfectly who ordered what and setting the man's beer down last, flashing him a soft smile.

"Hey, you," shouted a grating voice from the next table over. Eden inwardly groaned before turning around. Her hand accidentally grazed the skin of the blue eyed guest of honor and the heat in her chest burned a little hotter at the sensation. "Yes sir, can I help you?" Eden asked with a dimmed version of her usual smile. A lot of these Wall Street guys love to make a big deal of themselves and alcohol rarely helps. "Yeah," said the clearly inebriated man. "Are you hard of hearing or just fuckin' stupid? I asked for a vodka martini. This obviously has fuckin' gin." He raises the glass, shaking it towards her with a condescending expression.

Eden swallowed the lump in her throat and steeled herself to face the angry man, but a gentle tap to the wrist and the sound of a chair scraping across the floor behind her stopped her short. “Buck… don’t.” She heard, a stern whisper from Captain America followed by a sigh from blue eyes

The tall man now stood beside her, obviously not taking his friend's advice. Her breath quickened, as he took a step forward, narrowing his gaze at the rude man. “Don’t ever speak to a lady like that” he spoke through gritted teeth.

"Ah, knight in shining armor, hear hear." the guy spoke in a belittling tone. Before she could hold him back, Blue Eyes' fist connected with his opponent's nose, the sound of bones breaking echoed in the air.

Eden shook her head and brought herself back to the scene at the sound of metal whirring beside her as his built figure stalked up to the drunk man at the next table and took in a breath. It's like she could hear his brain talking himself out of the scene she just pictured in her head. "Obviously nobody taught you any manners growing up, huh?" he growled as he looked down at the man grinning at him. The rude man stepped closer to Eden, nose in pristine condition and his disgusting ego still, unfortunately intact. She brushed off her panic, secretly glad that she had day dreamed the violent commotion in the middle of the restaurant.

"And what are you gonna do about it, huh? Teach 'em to me?" The prick in the suit yelled, unknowingly taunting someone far more than capable of doing so. Bucky's nose flared with barely controlled temper, he put his left hand on the man's shoulder, Eden could see the metal fingers flexing and tightening their hold a little as the man grimaced and visibly shrunk into himself.

"You should leave," Bucky said softly as his arm whirred, and Eden's stomach twisted with anxiety, wondering what was going to happen next. "You've been doing nothing but complaining since I sat down with my friends. I'm trying to have a nice birthday celebration and she's trying to do her damn job.

The drunken man seemed to realize who exactly Bucky and the rest of his company was. "Whatever, man. This place can't even make a drink anyway. I'll go to a place where the waitresses aren't just nice to look at," he crudely laughed.

As him and the rest of his table filed out, Eden let out a sigh as she straightened her apron, great now that's going to come out of my pocket. She tilted her head up, her deep brown eyes meeting his, as she felt him place a hand on her shoulder tentatively. "I'm sorry I stepped in I just- I couldn't let him speak to you like that, you don't deserve that. I'll take care of their bill, I don't want you to get in trouble either. Are you okay?" he nervously rambled.

Eden swallowed hard, his eyes were like little bottles of ocean water, speckled with green and grey. Finally, she managed to say as nonchalantly as her body would allow, “yeah…no it’s fine, he’s not the first drunk asshole I’ve had to deal with and he certainly won’t be the last.” She smiled up at him, wishing she could just stop time and stare at him for a while. But then, the man cleared his throat, bringing her back to reality from her glorious daydream.

"I'm Bucky," he said, a small smile creating crinkles at the corners of his eyes. Eden found herself desperate to count every line and freckle on his handsome face, staring with her lips slightly parted. "And I'm starving, so Barnes, if you could ask the very pretty girl out already so we can get our food, that would be amazing," the woman with the long blonde hair at Bucky's elbow said impatiently, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Yelena..." Bucky sighed as Eden giggled softly.

“Eden,” she replied and then shook her head, the next words tumbling out of her mouth as she blushed, “but you knew that because I already introd—“ “You can introduce yourself to me a hundred times if you like, I wouldn’t mind.” Bucky grinned with a gentle tap on her arm, “I’ll let you get back to work.”

A blush crept onto her cheeks as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Actually, while I’m here, why don’t I take your orders? If you’re all ready” she asked, looking around at everyone else.

They gave her all their orders and Eden felt like flying on clouds, Bucky made her heart flutter, in the best way possible.

Mark watched her come around to the till to enter the order, finishing his order he slid down the bar closer to her, "are you okay? The broody one seems to be sweet on you."

"Peachy," she scrunched her nose up, cheeks flushed from the encounter and looked over at the table again, "he was just being a decent human being, Mark, drop it."

Raising his hands in mock surrender, Mark smirked while he backed up from Eden as she bit her lip shyly.

She kept glancing back at the blue eyed saviour after she entered the order, watching as his face lit up with joy even in teasing moments from his friends. 

Every few times, their eyes would meet.

Eden wanted to walk into the back room to sit down and take a breath, but she also couldn't stop staring at Bucky, and as he sipped his beer and endured a gentle ribbing from his friends, she really wished she was sitting at that table too.

Mark leaned over the bar and half whispered in a sing-song voice, "That beer he's drinking looks like it needs a free refill, and I know a certain lovestruck waitress who could take care of thaaaaat!"

She took a deep breath, a stranger shouldn't be able to make her this nervous, but something about Bucky shot straight through the facade she put up for customers. Still, after a glare at Mark, Eden kept her chin high and her smile bright as she careened back to the table.

"Looked like you needed a refill, birthday boy. On me.", Eden said with a wink as she placed his new beer on the table. 

Even under the restaurant's dim lighting she could see the slight pink sheen creeping up his neck, through his blushing he gave her a smirk back with a thank you. 

"Food should be out soon, can I get anyone anything else in the meantime?" she smiled looking back at Bucky's friends, teasing smiles plastered on their faces.

Yelena took a sip from her straw, shooting coy glances between Bucky and Eden. 

“I think you could get Barnes here some plans for after his belated birthday dinner,” she said as Kate choked on a laugh.

Eden watched as Bucky's gaze flickered from her to the woman he previously called Yelena, his eyes going wide for a moment before shaking his head and glancing back up at her. "I--I'm sorry, Yelena has had some pretty hard hits to the head," he quipped, "she no longer has a filter apparently, please, please ignore her." 

She chuckled, "Well, I'm off at 10... that is if you don't find other belated birthday plans." Eden mused, grinning slightly as she cleared his empty beer glass from the table and turned on her heel, leaving him with a dumbfounded look.

"He won't! I'll make sure of it!" Yelena yelled  at Eden's back, the butterflies in her stomach fluttering at full force as she approached the bar. 

Eden turned back just in time to see Bucky rub his hand across his face while Yelena and the dark haired girl at her side cackled maniacally. She placed the empty glass onto the bar, leaning on the smooth surface.

"Girl, that man is gonna snap you like a twig," Mark said, setting the mug behind the bar. "I am disgustingly jealous."

“Shut. Up. Mark” Eden spoke through a clenched jaw, trying to hide the smile that was forcing itself onto her lips. 

Mark mocked flipping his hair and walked off to keep making his drink order. 

“Get it together girl..” She whispered to herself.

The night progressed faster than usual, the anticipation of speeding more time with Bucky was smelling deliciously sweet.

"Alright, babes. I'm closing out the bar. Get your lover boy and get outta here." Mark winked at her while she wiped one of the last tables.

Eden froze as Captain America himself wandered over to where she cleaned the table, "hey there, I have a favor to ask. I know the kitchen is closing but do you think you could bring the birthday boy a slice of chocolate cake?" He flashed a wide grin at her and leaned against the table.

"I think I can help with that," she smiled at him, and made for the kitchen. 

"One more thing," he walked over to her, "how good is your handwriting?" 

Eden laughed, "pretty good." 

Cap grabbed a napkin from behind the bar and scribbled something on it before handing it to her, "write that on the plate for me?"

Eden doubled over with laughter as Sam's eyes twinkled.

"You seriously want me to write 'birthday bitch'?"

Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out a hundred dollar bill.

"He loves it. I promise, it'll be really funny."

She bit her lip and looked over at the table. Yelena gave her the thumbs up while Kate raised her glass and Bucky looked confused, mouthing what's going on? Eden took a deep breath, nodding her head as she grabbed the money from his hand.

"Okay. I'll do it, but if he cries, I'm blaming you for my night going south, Captain."

Sam saluted her and walked back to the table, leaving her to her task. 

Eden went into the kitchen and grabbed the chocolate cake and the frosting bags from the fridge. After having mixed just the right shade of blue she piped out 'Birthday Bitch' on the plate, dotting the I's with little hearts.

She made sure everything looked perfect, wiping a small bit of frosting off the plate. Smiling to herself, she stuck in the candles and lit them. 

Eden walked out from the kitchen, dimming the lights with one hand before stepping towards the table. Bucky’s eyes met hers and her heart fluttered. One foot in front of the other, she thought. She started singing, her voice wavering slightly- “Haaaaappy birthday to youuu!”

Even with the dimmed lights, the blush creeping across his cheeks was apparent. His group of friends lit up brighter than the candles, taking over the singing for her which she was thankful for as she carefully set the cake plate down in front of him. A soft wince passing over her features as she stood up straight, watching a small frown spread across his cheeks and a glare flickering to the Captain who was currently trying to keep himself from laughing and singing off tune. 

Bucky eyes met hers as her brows knitted together and she mouthed I'm sorry before he sighed, taking a breath and blowing out the candles.

Everyone at the table clapped obnoxiously to further embarrass the man of the evening. Kate wrapped her arms around Bucky in what clearly was an unexpected gesture. Eden felt a lump form in her throat at the tears that Bucky blinks away before anyone can see. 

"Thanks everybody for...well, this," Bucky said with a sniff. "And you too. Really."  

Bucky looked up at Eden with a small smile that she returned. 

"Yeah, well it wasn't that hard to convince me," she replied with a look at Sam. 

Bucky points at the new Captain, eyebrows furrowed. 

"I'll get you back one day, Wilson." he said as Sam slapped Bucky on the back with a laugh. 

As the super soldier listed all the ways he could enact his revenge, Yelena cut the cake with a knife no one even knew she had. Eden gently slid the hundred back into Sam's pocket. He looked over at her, a smirk on his face. 

"What? It's on the house, " Eden asked with a shrug and a smile before she walked away to get her things.

Eden could hear the continued laughter and jokes floating through the now empty restaurant as the group enjoyed the cake. She stayed behind the bar, puttering around, trying to stay busy as long as possible so she didn’t have to kick them out. 

She looked up as Sam wandered over to the bar, sliding his credit card over to her. “Thank you for tonight. I think you really helped make this a good evening for Buck” he smiled, glancing quickly over at his friend. “He may seem like a grumpy old man, but inside he’s a big softy” 

“Well I’m just glad you all enjoyed yourselves” Eden grinned as she finished processing the check.

Sam paid, despite the protests from the table and handed her the bill envelope back. The tip inside was far larger than she deserved or expected from them. "I couldn't," she said.

"It's on the house," he laughed with a wink. "One more favor?" He asked. 

She nodded, waiting for the question to be just as silly as the last time. "When Buck comes over here to ask you for a drink, say yes."

She flushed red and chuckled nervously but all the color drained from her face as she realized he was serious, "He's a little rusty and I don't want to lose my bet to Yelena, again."

She bit her lip as Sam walked away. Eden helped clean up, fully aware of Bucky's eyes on her as she wiped down some tables and some counters. As she was putting some chairs on top of some tables, Mark walked past her and leaned in. 

"Your boyfriend is on his way over here."

"Will you stop?!" She hissed as she looked up. "Don't you have someone else to annoy?"

"No."

Bucky was slowly walking toward her. His hand was shaking as he ran it through his hair. Eden pretended to be very interested in one of the chair legs as her face burned. She heard Bucky clear his throat from behind her and turned around to see his face bright red as he gnawed on his bottom lip before forcing a charming smile.

"H-- hi," he stammered.

"Hi birthday boy" she said softly as she smiled back at him. "Did you have a good time?" 

Bucky huffed out a laugh and scrunched his nose as his smile grew wider. Eden bit the inside of her cheek at the action, that's adorable. 

"I did, thanks. For everything, it was a nice surprise..." his voice trailed off as he swayed a bit in place. 

"I'm gl-" "Can I-" they both let out a laugh as she gestured for him to go ahead. 

"Can I give you a hand with anything?" Eden looked at him with big doe eyes, surprised at his question.

"Oh, I couldn't possibly bother you with that." 

"Please?" he said, placing his hand softly atop hers on the chair she just flipped over. "That way you can finish quicker and I can maybe buy you a drink? If you would like to, of course."

Eden smiled to herself, taking note of how soft his voice dipped when he spoke to her. She wanted him all to herself. 

“Sure, I’d like that. If you want- we could finish up here, grab a bottle of something, and go drink at my place?”

"I'd like that," He rasped. Her heart hammered in her chest as she watched his tongue flick over his bottom lip, biting it softly before a grin spread over the plush pink of his lips. "Bottles on me then, darlin'." 

She melted right then and there at the name, a quiet giggle escaping her own as his smile grew wider as if he could sense every nerve in her body screaming at him to take her right here on this table. The thought quickly faded as he took a step towards her, his hand trailing down her arm, before gripping the back of the chair behind her.

Bucky and Eden worked together on the rest of the space, him stacking chairs and her wiping tables in an unusually smooth synchronization, as if they'd done it for years. Sam and his friends left early on, the Captain giving her a smile and a wink as they filed out the door. 

Every few moments Eden caught Bucky staring at her, as she reached across tables or when she brushed a loose strand of hair from her cheek. His eyes would flicker to the little sliver of skin that showed when her shirt rose and the heat in his gaze seemed to burn straight through her. 

"Well, that's the last of it," Eden sighed. "Hopefully I didn't wear you out." 

Bucky huffed out a laugh as Eden turned off the lights and set the alarm. 

"I don't tire very easily," he murmured, the implication in his voice making her thighs clench together.  

Bucky followed her out the front of the restaurant into the busy street. They walked a block to a bodega, where he fulfilled his promise of buying the bottle of wine of her choice. Every few steps her fingers would brush his and the skin would tingle with the urge to grasp his hand, but she didn’t want to scare him.

Suddenly, she felt Bucky's pinky link with hers, and she looked up at him to find a soft smile on his face as he met her eyes. 

“Hi” he whispered with a breathy laugh. Eden noted the way his nose scrunched up as he laughed. It was cute. 

She stopped outside an older looking apartment building, and pulled her keys out of her bag, as she led him up the steps. They made their way through the door and got into the elevator, pressing the button for the 8th floor. 

Eden leaned against the mirrored wall, and met Bucky's eyes again. He moved himself in front of her and placed his hands on either side of her.

“I, uh… can I kiss you?” He asked quietly, his blue eyes searching her features.

She licked her bottom lip, a smile curling on her lips as she nodded in response to his ask. Afraid to open her mouth in case she fumbled out her feelings and vomited them all over his shoes. She searched his eyes for hesitation as he pulled the glove from right hand and trailed two smooth metal fingers up her arm sending electricity surging through her body. 

He gouged her reaction to his arm as he went only stopping as he pressed them to the underside of her chin and lifted her lips delicately to his as if he was scared to hurt her. His lips brushed against her, his mouth cradling her bottom lip in hesitation. She closed the gap between them, unable to wait much longer for him to figure out that she needed him. She had been waiting the better half of the night to feel his hands on her, craving the taste of his lips as she watched him shamelessly eat chocolate cake. 

"I-," he pulled back from the kiss, pressing his forehead to the wall behind her. "I haven't done this in a really long time," he huffed against her hair.

"It's okay," she whispered as she dragged her tongue across her bottom lip. "I've got you, darlin'."

The nickname sparked something in him. His breath caught in his throat and she could see his pulse thumping along to the same rapid beat as hers. Eden felt dizzy. As Bucky leaned forward again, the elevator door dinged to signal that they were on the eighth floor. Eden took a chance and kissed him one more time. It was meant to be quick and heated, but they got lost in it once she heard a soft moan spill from his throat. 

His metal hand wrapped gently around the back of her neck, fingers playing with the baby hairs that had fallen out of her ponytail over the course of her shift. As the door began to close, his free hand jutted out and pressed the open button. He broke the kiss, both of them panting softly with huge smiles on their faces.

"You're really good at that," she assured him.

He laughed, his eyes and nose crinkling. Eden practically melted as Bucky took her hand.

"As much as I want to keep kissing you in here, I think it's impolite to hog the elevator."

Eden put on a serious face and gave him a small salute, giggling as he led her out of the elevator, shaking his head with another laugh. He made a left as soon as they made it out and looked back when he felt her tug on his hand. 

"Um, do you know where you're going there Sergeant?" she said nonchalantly but it was impossible for her to miss the way Bucky's eyes lit up when the word came out of her mouth. She closed the distance between them, got up on her tiptoes and connected their lips once more, tugging slightly on his bottom lip as she pulled back. 

"We'll put a pin on that one." she whispered against his lips and laid one last kiss on them before coming back to her height. "Come on, it's this way.", she smiled.

She got her keys out of her bag and unlocked the door, letting them both inside. It was cozy- 450 square feet of her personality expressed through art she had found, furniture she had thrifted, and splashes of color that just felt right. 

She lit a balsam candle on the coffee table, noticing Bucky’s small smile once the scent hit his nose. Her heart was in her throat, but in the way you feel the night before particularly exciting plans or a much-needed vacation. 

Bucky licked his bottom lip and Eden’s eyes were immediately drawn toward his mouth. “So,” she laughed, her fingers playing with the hem of her shirt. “Wanna open that bottle?”

"I'd much rather kiss you again." He breathed. 

Eden noticed that the blue in his eyes disappeared going dark with lust and as he moved towards her, her breath hitched in her throat. 

"Okay." She whispered. Bucky took the two strides towards her, his body all but barreling into hers as their lips crashed together. Metal fingers whirred as they found the hem of her t-shirt, grazing her burning skin underneath the cotton. The feeling of the cool metal against her skin caused a gasp to leave her lips in between kisses. 

Bucky pulled back slightly, his right hand finding her cheek and dipping his head to meet her gaze, looking afraid as if he had hurt her. "You okay?" He asked between soft pants. Eden flashed him a lazy smile, her body already feeling the bliss of his touch. She nodded as she reached up, her fingers dancing along his jawline. The short stubble tickling her fingertips. 

"I'm more than okay."

Bucky's hands returned to her waist as he kissed her again, fingers dancing along her soft skin. Eden let out a small sigh as his tongue teased her lips, pressing her body closer to his. 

"For someone who hasn't done this in a long time, you sure are knocking it out of the park," she whispered with a nervous laugh as the realization of what is about to happen washed over her.

"Well you make it pretty damn easy to remember how it goes," Bucky breathed against her lips. 

Eden grinned as he kissed her again, leading him to her room as his hands grabbed any part of her that he could reach. She pushed open the door with her foot as his fingers fiddled with the buttons of her shirt. Bucky pulled at the fabric and it snaps, buttons flying across Eden's room as she gasps. 

"Sorry..." he whispered in a small voice before giving her a soft smile. 

"Don't be. That was ridiculously hot...what else can you do, birthday boy?" Eden replied with a smirk, emboldened by the blazing look in Bucky's eyes. It's like he's going to eat her alive.

She watched as Bucky’s tongue flitted across his bottom lip with a devilish smirk, 

“Let’s find out shall we..” he rasped, as his hands gripped the skin of her waist, ghosting his lips over her jaw. 

He licked a small stripe up her neck and placed a teasing kiss just under her ear lobe, before stepping back just long enough to discard his own shirt. 

Eden’s eyes raked over his body as she pulled the remainder of her shirt off her body. This was definitely not something she would normally do, but this man did something to her that she hadn’t felt in a long time. 

Bucky stepped back towards her and pulled her back flush to his body as he backed her up towards the bed. In a fluid motion, he lifted her up and placed her gently down, hovering over her.

“Is this okay?” He asked, brushing the backs of his fingers over her cheek.

"More than okay," she laughed as her fingertips trailed along the rough scars on his shoulder where metal met scarred flesh. His breath hitched in his chest and she saw something vulnerable spark in his eyes. Eden lifted her head to kiss his scars. 

"It's okay," she whispered. "You're beautiful."

Bucky stared down at her and dipped his head to kiss the corners of her mouth.

"I didn't think you'd go for me."

Eden giggled and stared up at her.

"You thought wrong, Sergeant."

His hips rutted against hers at the nickname and he moaned softly. Eden silently resolved to keep using that nickname, especially if it was going to get this kind of response. She bit her lip as Bucky began to trail his lips down her neck, her chest, and her stomach, dull teeth nipping at her searing skin. Her fingers swam through his silky hair. He kissed along the very tops of her hip bones and then stared up at her, one finger hooking into the belt loop of her work pants.

"Can we get you out of these, sugar? Couldn't stop thinking about what you looked like underneath this uniform and now that I know you're gorgeous, I wanna get a real damn good look at you."

"You dirty dog, Sergeant," she whispered with flaming cheeks. He giggled and she swallowed hard. "Take them off of me."

He pulled her pants down with the appetite of a man starved. His breath hitched when he saw the black thong she was wearing, small metal rings adorning the straps that hugged her hips. 

Eden smiled, biting her lip as his eyes widened. She could practically hear him gulp as he admired her dips and curves, slowly pulling her work pants all the way off and leaving them in a puddle on the floor.  She flexed around nothing, almost embarrassed by how ready she was.                                           Bucky exhaled a deep breath, eyes firmly fixed on her aching cunt, and said, “I have- wow, I- uh- I haven’t seen any underwear like this before.”

Eden pulled herself up and lifted his chin slightly to meet his eyes running her nails across his stubble. A slight concern flitted through her eyes.  

“You okay?” she whispered as he traced figures mindlessly on her hip with a metal finger. 

“Yeah, yeah. They’re amazing on you.” he chuckled. 

“Maybe next time I can model some for you.” she said as she placed a sweet kiss on his lips. She pulled back wide eyed at the realization of what she had said. “Sorry that was, um, if you want there t-“ 

Bucky leaned back in for a kiss, smiling as he ran his tongue across her bottom lip. “Oh there’ll be a next time, sweetheart. In the meantime, why don’t ya lay back down for me. Please.” He whispered as took his bottom lip between his teeth and admired her body.

"Yes, sergeant." She breathed, as Bucky groaned, his eyes fluttering close for a moment. Eden giggled, reaching behind her and carefully tugging the elastic from her hair. Dark loose waves cascaded around her as she laid back, following his instructions. Bucky watched her, his eyes tracing her slightest movements as she laid back. 

"You really like that name, don't you?" She asked, biting the inside of her lip and wrapping her leg around his waist. 

He nodded, "I really," Bucky leaned down, planting soft open mouthed kisses along her collar bones and down towards the swell of her breasts, each word punctuated by a kiss, "really, do."

A moan slipped from Eden’s lips as she felt Bucky moving down her body. His hand moved around her back and pinched the clasp of her bra, popping it open. 

He tenderly pulled the straps down her arms and tossed it to the side of the bed. “My god you’re beautiful, sweetheart” he whispered, leaning down to lick a spot on her throat before kissing it softly. 

He continued to move his lips down her body, placing little nips and sucking little purple spots into her skin. 

As he swirled his tongue around one of her nipples, and palmed at her other breast, Eden arched her back pressing into his touch. 

“God Bucky…” she breathed.

She heard him chuckle against her sensitive nipple as he continued the deliciously sweet torture by alternating between sucking and nipping at her. The stubble on his jaw touching her skin sent sparks down her spine, making her hand shoot into his short hair as his hot breath fanned against her pussy. 

"Please, Bucky." she cried out, urging him.

"You're gonna have to coach me through this a little, princess," he breathed. "It's been a really long time."

She bit her lip and nodded as her hand slid down her body to circle her clit as Bucky watched, kissing up and down the insides of her thighs. 

"Put your mouth here. Go slow," she said softly. "Take your time."

He grinned.

"I'd like to take my time when it comes to you, angel."

Her body was covered in goosebumps as he removed her hand as he dragged his tongue along her clit at an agonizingly slow pace that made Eden's toes curl. She tugged on his hair as her back arched and a moan filled the room. She could see Bucky grinding his hips into the mattress as he locked eyes with her and lifted his head.

"How am I doing?"

"Incredible," she laughed as he lapped at her slowly and stared up at the ceiling, feeling heat creep into her cheeks and rush down her body. "Happy birthday, Sarge."

He continued to lick stripes up her, cautiously swirling his tongue around her clit. Eden saw stars, her breath catching in her throat. Bucky brought his head up and their eyes met, the smirk on his face growing as she bit her lip. 

He brought his right hand up to part her folds, gathering her slick around two of his fingers. Eden heard a small gasp fall out of his incredibly plump lips as she arched her back in anticipation.  Her skin was on fire and she needed something- anything- to help ease the growing fire in her belly. She was nervous but the fire bubbled up and up and up and- 

“Please,” she breathed. “Use your other hand.”

Eden felt Bucky's entire body tense up at her words, his eyes meeting hers in what she can only describe as a terrified look. She propped herself up onto her elbows but before she could say anything he shook his head, "I don't--" 

"Bucky," She breathed, reaching out and cupping his cheek into her hand, "It's okay...I trust you." She whispered, a soft smile spreading across her lips for a moment as she studied him. Eden watched as his chest heaved with a heavy sigh as if the worry had released from his body.

Bucky's eyes pressed closed for a moment as he let out a shuttered breath and leaned into her hand. He nodded slowly, as he turned his head to press his lips to her palm. 

“Ok…” he whispered, moving back to pepper her inner thighs with kisses. 

Eden combed her hand into his hair and smiled softly down at him, “I’ll tell you if it’s not what I expected.. and you tell me if you're not comfortable with something, deal?” 

He nodded his head again, dipping back down to lick a strip through her wet folds. Taking her swollen bud between his lips, he ran a metal finger over her entrance, sending a shiver up her spine. 

A moan fell from her lips, as Eden's head slumped backwards. She moved her hips into his hand, as he pushed his finger into her.

"Oh my God," she gasped. His fingers were thick, and she could feel every ridge inside of her. Pearly white teeth clamped down on her bottom lip, and Bucky looked up at her with wide eyes and a terrified expression. Her heart ached for him.

He thinks he's hurting me.

"Is it okay?" He asked, his voice clenched. "I don't--"

"It's perfect, Bucky," she whispered as she ran her fingers through his hair. "You can add another one. I can take it."

He smiled, his body almost slumping with relief as he added another finger and pumped them in and out of her slowly, watching her slick coat the metal. With eagerness, he dove back in and wrapped his lips around her clit. She was in heaven.

Eden felt herself tumbling closer and closer to the edge as Bucky continued working at her clit, almost sucking on the tender bud. He kept pumping the fingers of his metal hand in and out, gaining a little bit of speed with each moan that spilled from her lips.  

“Your fingers feel so good, Sarge,” she whimpered toward the ceiling, eyes almost rolling back in her head. “You’re going to make me come.”

Bucky moaned against her, the sound practically vibrating through her body. Eden felt like she was melting into the mattress with every one of his movements. 

"Oh my god, Bucky--" She practically choked as his fingers grazed the spot inside her that made her see spots. "Please, keep doing that, don't stop." Eden pleaded between breaths.

Bucky took her command very seriously, and kept doing exactly as he was doing. Pushing his fingers into her and curling them against her G spot as he sucked on her clit and worked it with his tongue. 

“Oh fuck…” Eden gasped, reaching down and combing her hand into his hand, pulling it gently. “Bucky.. come ‘ere please.. I need you” she rasped. 

Again, he did as he was told and moved his way back up her body, capturing her lips in his for a quick kiss. He got up and undid his jeans, pushing them off with his briefs, freeing his throbbing cock. 

Eden couldn’t help the smile that grew onto her lips, as she swiped her tongue across them. “Wow…” she breathed. 

Bucky chuckled shyly, grasping himself and pumping a couple times as he moved his body back over hers. He placed light kisses down her jaw and neck, lining himself up with her entrance. 

“That better be a good wow..” he mumbled against her skin with a smirk.

"Trust and believe..-" before she could finish her sentence, he slowly entered her, every delicious inch at a time. Her breath caught in her throat. 

"God, you feel heavenly, sugar." He groaned as he was pushing the last inch, burying himself to the hilt.

Eden laughed softly, her right hand wrapping around the back of his neck and pulling him to her, their lips barely brushing and both of their chests heaving against the other. "Just, just give me a moment to get used to you." She said softly. 

Bucky closed the gap between them, kissing her so softly and tenderly it almost brought tears to her eyes. "Tell me when, Eden." He rasped, not moving and holding as still as he could as the sting from his size subsided. 

After a few seconds and her neck and chest being covered in soft kisses and gentle nips, Eden raked her fingers through his hair bringing his gaze back to her own. "You can move now." Bucky nodded and slowly lifted his hips from hers, almost pulling out from her before pushing himself back in, both of their groans filling the air around them. 

Edens head fell back against the pillow, as her eyes fluttered closed, moving her hands to grip his shoulders, “fuck you feel so good..” she moaned. 

Bucky picked up his pace a little, wrapping a hand under her hips to tilt them upwards, allowing him to hit her just at the right spot. 

He dipped his head to place light kisses and nips against her throat, as he whispered compliments into her skin. 

She felt herself flutter and clench around him, as he thrust into her more confidently now. 

“I don’t know how long I’ll last, love..” he gasped, “I meant it when I said it’s been a while..” 

She smiled softly and brought his lips back to hers, “that’s okay..” she moaned, “this is perfect.. you’re perfect” she whispered back.

"Eden, I..- fuck." he groaned. His whole body started contracting as he picked up the pace, accompanying every thrust with a guttural groan. 

"Yes, yes." She cried out as the engulfing waves of her orgasm washed over her

She felt Bucky press his forehead against her chest as her fingertips dug into the hard muscle of his back. "Bucky I'm gonna come!" Eden sobbed.  

Her orgasm hit her like a sack of bricks as her body trembled under his touch and spots filled her vision before squeezing her eyes closed. Eden moaned into the air, her head pressed back against the pillow and chest arched against his own and her mouth falling into a slight 'o' as it became hard to breathe. Bliss washing over every inch of her. 

Bucky continued his pace, the snap of his hips becoming less rhythmic as he worked himself closer to his own orgasm. "Holy shit..." He breathed into her skin as she fluttered and clenched around him. Suddenly, his body stilled and another guttural moan escaped his lips. She could feel his cock twitch inside of her as he came, filling her with his warmth.

Eden ran her fingers through his hair, pushing back the small pieces that stuck to his forehead from the sweat. He lifted his head to look at her, a sex drunk smile spread across his still plush pink lips before they crashed into hers once more. She whimpered into the kiss, tears threatening the corners of her eyes once more at how extremely sweet and soft this 6'4 giant of a man became in her arms.

Bucky moved to the side, and flopped down onto the bed beside Eden, tucking his arms around her and pulling her into his chest. “God you’re amazing..” he voice sounding more deep than usual, as he placed a wet kiss to her forehead, trailing his fingertips gently up her arms. 

Eden sniffed to hide her emotions, and smiled up at him. She still wasn’t sure how this handsome stranger was able to make her feel so safe and at peace by just being in his arms, but that’s exactly how she felt. No one had made her feel this way in such a long time. 

“You’re pretty incredible yourself, Sargent..” She smirked, leaning up and placing a kiss on his chin. “How do you feel about that bottle of wine, now? I know it’s passed midnight but we can pretend we’re still celebrating” 

A deep chuckle came from Bucky's chest as he tucked a dark curl behind her ear and smiled shyly at her. 

“I guess now is a bad time to tell you my birthday was in March, huh?”

#bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #marvel imagine #marvel one shot #marvel oneshot #marvelous #one shot #smut #fluff #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfic

[winchester-with-wings]

The Neighborhood Heartthrob

Bucky Barnes x Reader (college age AU?) // Dedicated to @softdudebro​

Patron Benefit Fic!

Summary: You're neighbors with Steve and Bucky when they come home for the summer. You're an artist and Steve asks for your help with a home DIY project.

Word Count: 3000ish

Author Notes: don't tell me you don't wish you could pull on his hair!

Mobile Masterlist  /  Patreon & Commissions Masterlist

--

Sarah Rogers was basically the neighborhood nurse and beloved by all. After the loss of her husband, she'd moved with her son to your neighborhood--a semi-suburban area with cute houses with driveways and backyards. She'd come on the heels of another family, the Barnes’. It seemed they were all rather close, especially the boys.

From your house across the way, you occasionally saw James Barnes and Steve Rogers hanging out, working on cars, or practicing the perfect pitch of an old yellow baseball. They were the token heartthrobs. The boys that all the girls had a crush on and you were no exception. But maybe because you didn't fawn over them or *noticeably* swoon, they seemed more inclined to interact with you.

Steve especially loved popping by the garage to see your latest work. You'd turned your parent's garage into an art studio and even though he tried not to show it, Steve was clearly interested in art. Not your art specifically but doing it himself. He'd often borrowed some paper scraps and pencils and wouldn't you know it, he was better than you. He'd spoken before about how he might want to go to art school. But another side of Steve Rogers wanted to enlist in the army like his dad. Either way, you'd be sad to see him go, but a part of you hoped he'd pursue his creative passion.

James--or Bucky as he liked to be called--was also indecisive about what followed after high school. But a baseball scholarship made the decision for him and he'd seemed happy to do it.

You graduated and went to college a year after the boys. Your first summer after freshman year, you're back in the garage, trying something new with repurposed wood and paint. Steve stepped in, having grown in height and muscles.

"Hey Steve!" you beamed at him, wiping at your brow. You're 99% positive there's paint on your forehead now.

"Hey Y/N, how are you?"

The two of you exchanged quick pleasantries before Steve got to the point.

"I was thinking about doing something nice for my mom, and I was hoping you could help."

"Of course!" Sarah Rogers, the woman next door the kids would go to if you didn't feel good, the mother hen you would visit if you thought you’d broken something after falling from a tree. (Never mind the fact that Bucky was the one that pushed you 'accidentally'). Everyone loved her and the chance to do something nice for her while she continued to work long shifts at the hospital over the summer, it was a no brainer.

"I want to paint a couple walls in the house, maybe do a mural?"

"Absolutely!"

What Steve neglected to mention (but what you should have expected) was that Bucky was going to help too. You'd gotten along great with Bucky in the past--perhaps too well because before he went off to college you'd become absolutely smitten. You'd survived off of quick glances across the street during holiday breaks but being in the same room with him…you were bound to get distracted. You could handle that right?

But you were wrong.

Bucky had grown out his hair; the dark brown hair that used to just tickle the back of his neck was now shoulder-length. He was wearing it in a low bun but shorter strands still framed his face or were tucked behind his ear.

"Lil Y/N!"

"Good to see you too Buck," you grunted. He wrapped you in a bear hug and spun you around when you walked into the living room. All furniture had been cleared and the ground was laden with newspapers and canvas tarps. Beams of uninterrupted sunlight shone in through the uncovered windows; it made the mustard yellow walls look better than they really were.

"Alright so primer first?" Steve gestured.

"Following your lead, Mr. Rogers," you saluted him, allowing yourself to be taken in by Steve's smile. You preferred that over watching Bucky's large arms flex as he carefully poured the white paint into a tray with a roller. Just like Steve, he seemed to have enjoyed the benefit of a college gym (definitely more than you, although your freshman 15 had come and gone), every inch of him seemed more filled out, more muscular. His grey t-shirt stretched across his shoulders and his broad chest filled it out even more but his waist tapered perfectly into that perfect waist, perfect ass, and thick…thick thighs.

A perfect model to sketch…if ever he'd agree to it. Maybe he would if you were prettier, taller, skinnier, someone else other than the silly girl across the street.

Steve had asked you to help yesterday, and today you were still wearing your paint stained overalls and--you guessed it--a paint stained t-shirt.

"You look like you came prepared," Steve commented on your outfit.

"Prepared to get dirty," Bucky added and while you hid your blush from Bucky, Steve saw it and grinned. He handed over a speaker.

"You're the DJ."

"Ah yes, finally. My true calling," you giggled.

You picked the general top hits to start off. That's safe right? But soon after everyone's started painting, you wanted to sing along and you weren't going to do that in front of them. So you changed it to an alternative punk playlist, then classic rock and then eventually Disney hits.

"Oh my god, Y/N! Just pick an artist and go with it!" Bucky laughed, waving a paint brush at you. You dodged the splatter of paint and looked at Steve, who remained quiet but looked to be in agreement with his friend. You settled on Pop Hits and then set the phone down.

The three of you worked on your respective walls until late afternoon. The music was eventually turned down to background music as you talked and exchanged stories about life and school. You're quiet when Steve and Bucky start talking about girls.

"What about you, Y/N?" Steve asked, having noticed your discomfort. You were just really focused on painting the wall a solid white, okay? That's the only reason you're quiet. Right? You shrugged.

"Not much to report. Aside from maybe one or two drunk dudes hitting on me at parties, there's not much to tell," you said quietly.

"Oh come on, you have to have some freshman year exploits," Bucky chuckled, sidling up close to you, "All the girls do."

"Well, not me," you said, a bit sharp. "I go to the parties but nothing happens, I just stand there and watch guys dance with my friends."

"You've always been a bit of a wallflower," Steve said sweetly. You whipped your head around to challenge him but find that he's looking at you fondly, a soft smile curving the corner of his mouth. "I always liked that about you," he said it off the cuff as if you and Bucky wouldn't hear him. You went back to painting. Only the wet paint could see how you blushed.

But after that, Bucky egged Steve into talking about another girl. A girl named Peggy who had pursued Steve and was well on her way to winning his heart. You weren't exactly jealous, just bummed to know that you'd missed any chance to win over the Brooklyn Boy. But Bucky on the other hand, was still unattached.

As you finish your wall, reaching the corner you shared with Bucky's wall, the two of you start to come closer together. He bumped his shoulder against yours and it's the first time you've noticed his (new-to-you) tattoo on his shoulder cap. You're caught staring at the red star peeking out under the short sleeve.

"Like what you see, darlin?" he purred, his voice low enough that Steve doesn't hear.

"The tattoo. It's nice," you clarified. Bucky smirked, lifted his sleeve more, and flexed his bicep.

"Wanna touch it?"

"I bet you say that to all the girls." You rolled your eyes and pressed the back of your hand to your brow. You leaned against him, pretending to faint. Bucky gaped at you in the same moment that he wrapped his arm around you to catch you. He's just unsteady enough on his feet that he tilted back, right into his wall.

"Oh, oh, whoa!" He jumped, startled at the realization that his old HS basketball shorts had just touched a wall of wet paint. "No. Ugh!" he groaned as he set you on your feet and then spun around to look. He looked like a dog chasing his tail. You and Steve started laughing. The white paint didn't perfectly transfer. If he had pressed his ass to a dark canvas the mark left behind wouldn't be a perfect peach shape but you'd be damned if you couldn't look away.

"Now that ass is a work of art!" you teased and Steve burst out laughing, his hand flying to his chest as he leaned back. He caught himself before he made the same mistake. Bucky looked at you, a flirtatious gleam in his eye. You recognized it but didn't take it seriously. He was only ever just teasing you, not showing actual interest in you. He held up his paint roller, brandishing it as a weapon. He crooked at his finger at you.

"Come here."

"No!" You dropped your paint roller and bolted to the other side of the room. You'd use Steve as a shield if you had to. But the boys are the best of friends and comrades. Steve turned on you, booping you on the nose with paint. "Please, no! Just not the hair!" you squealed, holding the two men at arms length. You'd had paint in your hair countless times. It wasn't fun trying to wash it out.

Bucky clearly hadn't experienced that pain before, but he was about to, when he slipped on the tarp. His back hit the wall and he went down. When he stood up, there was no denying that the paint had gotten everywhere, including his hair. It was the back of his head and his bun that now sported white streaks and even though Steve suggested hosing Buck off in the backyard, you knew the primer paint wouldn't come out so easily.

---

You and Steve got a jump start on the fourth wall the next day. With painting tape and a pencil, you're planning out something abstract and decorative or maybe an actual mural; Steve hadn't decided yet. He just knew it had to be perfect for his mom.

She'd come home from a long shift and had been banned from entering the living room. He'd closed it off and left the ceiling fan running with the windows open. The primer was nearly dry and you would be painting it a pale green later, but for now, you're having fun brainstorming with Steve.

You eventually decided to do a geometric pattern but flowers and leaves painted in the corner where Sarah's plants would eventually return.

"I don't like this color. Wanna run to the store with me to get a different one," Steve asked you. Bucky walked in a moment later, dressed in the same dirty clothes from yesterday but with one major difference. His shoulder length hair was gone.

"Oh my god. What did you do?" you stared, utterly shocked.

Typical. Absolutely typical.

When something goes wrong with their hair, a boy doesn't worry about washing the mess away. No. They just cut it all off.

"I haven't seen your hair that short in years! Looks good, Buck!" Steve smiled at his friend, his trip to the store still on his mind, he grabbed his keys and wallet off the table in the center of the room. "Wanna come?" Bucky couldn't seem to stop looking at you, you looked stupid--dumbfounded no doubt.

"Nah, I'm good. I'll stay here and help Y/N."

"Cool. She'll tell you the plan."

With his hand hook in the waistband of his basketball shorts, Bucky approached you.

"You like what you see, Y/N?"

"You cut it all off?" Your shocked face morphed into a pouting one. Bucky ran his hand over his head; it's short all around but still just long enough to stick up on top. He looked older, like a man who would model fancy suits with shiny shoes.

"Wasn't going to wash out, so…do you like it?" Did he really need your approval?

"Sure," you shrugged and directed your attention back to the wall and the plan for the mural. You drifted over to the corner and started to imagine how you would do the plants. What leaves? Any flowers? A cactus? No, too Southwestern. You could smell Bucky--even over the scent of paint--before you realized he was right behind you. You turned and he'd crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall, so close that you were literally backed into the corner.

"Did you even try?" he asked, quite randomly. Looking him up and down and a bit flustered by his proximity, you weren't sure you even understood the question. "Did you?"

"Did I, what?"

"Did you try to meet people, friends--guys--at school?"

"Wh--where's that coming from?" Your eyebrows had likely fused together in confusion and your nose scrunched up. Bucky dared to do something he'd never done before, touch your face. With one finger, he drew a line down the bridge of your nose, smoothing out the wrinkles you'd created.

"You've always been a little shy. I'm not surprised that you didn’t meet anyone. But did you try?" he asked again. Getting annoyed now, your eyebrows turned downward and you tried to step out of that corner, put some space between you and him.

"Of course, I did. Why are you saying that? Why do you care?"

"I mean, I'm glad it didn't work out with any of those drunk idiots you mentioned. And there was no one else." Was that last phrase a question or a statement. Was he "glad" that there might've been "no one else"?

"What? Why?"

"Because…those boys don't know what they're missing, ya know? Anyone would be lucky to be with you." The corner of his mouth turned up in that charming smile you'd only seen directed at other girls.

"Ha." What a joke. What game was he playing? Did he really want to push away the one girl that he was actual friends with?

"I'm not joking, Y/N."

More than a few loud heartbeats passed in the silence that ensued.

Taking a few steps away, you picked up Steve's doodle of a concept, looking to move past this moment. But you could feel Bucky's eyes boring into you, scrutinizing your every move.

"I do like your new hair," you finally said, trying to back up to a previous discussion. But that failed almost immediately. "I liked the way it was before, but yeah…it's nice. It looks good. You look good." dammit. You'd crossed into dangerous territory now and you could only blame yourself, not Bucky for backing you into a corner.

You looked up and Bucky is just staring at you from that same spot near the corner, still very close to you.

"Wanna touch it?" he said, echoing yesterday's offer of his bicep.

What the hell. Why not?!

"If it'll shut you up, sure." You tossed the paper aside and came face to face with Bucky. You hesitated after raising your hands, just before touching his head. His dark hair was now short enough to card your fingers through easily. The fresh cut made it feel like silk between your fingers. He leaned his head into your touch.

It was almost too sensual.

One of Bucky's hands rested on your waist, his fingers lightly gripping the fabric. When you reached the back of his head, you yanked on it. Big mistake. Why did you think that would ease the tension…the sexual tension? Bucky's lips parted and fell open. There had been a sharp intake of breath when you'd pulled. He looked down at you and smirked, his blue eyes shining.

"You're going to make me wish I hadn't cut my hair."

"Wh-what?" you managed to whisper, your mouth gone dry.

"Do it again."

You'd just tightened your grip on Bucky's scalp when his hands were suddenly on the backs of your thighs and he was pulling you into his body, taking you off the ground and wrapping your legs around his waist. It happened so quickly, but you responded in kind--bracing yourself as he pushed you against the wall. You were ready but also completely unprepared when his lips slanted across yours. How many times had you imagined this? And it was happening now? The sheer improbability of it was frustrating enough that you were pulling on his hair again. His hands on your ass seemed to reciprocate the gesture.

"Fuck," he groaned as he allowed you to pull his mouth away. "Imagined kissing you hundreds of times but never like this," he said, shaking his head as an indication. "But don't stop." He kissed you again and you eagerly parted your lips, letting his tongue in.

"Oh but please do. Please stop."

Steve was quiet, perhaps uncomfortable, but he didn't look surprised at all. Slowly, Bucky lowered your feet to the ground but he still had you sandwiched between him and the wall. "Buck, I thought you were gonna wait until after we finished the painting. Now it's never going to get done."

You gently pushed your way out of Bucky's embrace. "Steve, I'm so sorry. Wait, what?" You turned to Bucky, who just shrugged and smiled like a cat that couldn't be more pleased with himself.

"I couldn't help myself. She loves the new hair." Hair which had been ruffled and pulled in several directions just moments ago. "We'll pick this up after we're done with Sarah's living room." Bucky pressed a quick kiss to your lips before walking away to Steve's car to retrieve the new paint.

You didn't move. Your knees were unsteady, your stomach in knots, and your hands--well you could still feel that dark hair between your fingers.

#Bucky Barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #my writing #bucky imagine #bucky fluff #bucky barnes imagine #marvel #marvel fanfic #Bucky fic

[petrichorocs]

do you think you’re better everyday? / dealer’s choice pt. 1

pairing: eddie munson/oc (cynthia moose) fandom: stranger things wc: 2.8k note: this is me missing them and providing context/backstory to their relationship (i just love them)

"There's always Eddie Munson, Tommy buys from him." Steve shrugged, taking a glance at the clock.

A confused look washed over the girl's face, "Eddie? Like, the D&D guy? He sells drugs?"

or 5 times Eddie and Cynthia got to know each other in the gloomy town of Hawkins

READ ON: ao3 ✰   wattpad  ✰   ff.net ✰   quotev

February 1984, Hawkins High School

Cynthia pushed in the doors of Hawkins High with more of a kick in her step than she’d had in the last three months, but the almost elated feeling she had left her as she got nearer to her group of friends. Friends she had almost neglected since her dad went missing back in November. They tried to stay around in the midst of the girl's grief but they could only do so much, they were just kids.

The conversation almost seemed to die as she gathered herself into the circle, “Hey guys.”

“Hi, Cynthia.” Nancy greeted, a kind smile as she was the only one to say hi.

Carol was the next one to greet her, pulling her into a tight hug, arms hanging over the taller girls' shoulders as she squeezed her, “Good to see you, Cyn.”

Cynthia gave a tired smile, Carol’s sweet perfume overloaded her senses, “you too, Care.”

The redhead pulled back, and took Cynthia’s chin in her well manicured hand, “we gotta get some make-up on you. You’re looking gloomy.”

“I got second period free.” She responded, forcing a laugh.

Carol let go with a pat to the cheek, “holding you to that.”

Nodding, she changed the subject, not liking everyone’s eyes on her, waiting for her to say something sad or start crying. “Steve, can I talk to you real quick?”

Steve looked shocked, running a hand through his hair, “sure.”

She nodded to the vacated classroom next to them. Ms. O’Donnell didn’t have a class first period and left her door unlocked.

“How’ve you been? Tim said you got picked up by Hopper.” Steve asked as he flicked on the lights and leaned back against the wall, mirroring Cynthia as she leaned against the empty chalkboard.

“Doing better,” she laughed, “I took off from home for a couple days and my mom didn’t like that. It’s whatever.”

He nodded, not really knowing how to respond to that. “So what’s going on?”

“Do you know where I could get some weed?”

“I buy from Pinelli, I could put a word in for you.”

"Steve, look me in the eyes and tell me one good reason that I wouldn't want to buy from Bull Pinelli." Cynthia rolled her eyes at the mention of her ex and Steve remembered as soon as she spoke.

"Shit, I'm sorry. I forgot you guys used to--"

"Yeah. Wish I could." She laughed dryly.

"There's always Eddie Munson, Tommy buys from him." Steve shrugged, taking a glance at the clock.

A confused look washed over the girl's face, "Eddie? Like, the D&D guy? He sells drugs?"

"I guess. Talk to Tommy."

“Okay,” Cynthia sighed, opening the door, “thanks anyways, Steve.”

The taller boy pushed past her, giving her a nod and comforting pat on the shoulder as he walked out, bell ringing as he did so.

✰ ✰ ✰

Carol’s hand was once again on Cynthia’s chin as she held her still while spreading eye shadow across her lid.

“Yo, Tommy, if I gave you some money could you do me a solid?” Cynthia asked, glancing over at the boy who wasn’t interested at all in what the pair of girls were doing but wanted to skip class.

“Depends, what do you want?” He reached forward into the pile of Juicy Fruit next to his girlfriend.

Carol sat back with a hum, finishing up with the pink shadow as Cynthia shrugged, “you get bags from Eddie Munson, don’t you?”

“The freak?” Tommy popped the gum into his mouth and rolled the wrapper up before throwing it at his girlfriend. “Yeah, you know I don’t fuck with Pinelli.”

“Yeah. Could you get me one? I’ve been smoking with Tim but he’s quitting because of wrestling or whatever. I have twenty bucks.”

✰ ✰ ✰

Tommy Hagan started regretting telling Cynthia yes as he pulled into the Palace Arcade parking lot, spotting Eddie’s shitty van. “Fuck it.” He sighed, turning his car off and walking inside the building, sneering at the younger kids that ran past him as he looked around for the drug dealer.

He finally spotted him with his nerd friends at the furthest corner, huddled around a couple of pinball machines, “Hey, Munson.” He called out, approaching the group of four.

Eddie turned his attention to the boy calling his name, “Hagan. You’re too slow, I closed up shop ‘bout an hour ago.” He already knew what the freckled boy wanted, it was the only reason he associated with him. It was kind of fun to watch him squirm in a ‘nerd’ environment.

“C’mon man, it’s Friday.”

Nodding his head towards the back exit of the building, Eddie grabbed his tin box from the floor and followed the jock outside.

“How much? The usual?”

Tommy slid his hands into his jacket pocket, fiddling with the extra twenty in his hand, “Two.”

Eddie paused, giving a confused look to the boy next to him, “Who you buyin’ for?”

“A friend of mine.” Tommy straightened up, hoping that puffing his chest a little bit would make him not question him more.

“Which friend?” He closed his box back up as a threat.

He debated with himself on whether or not to tell Eddie that he was buying for Cynthia. Tommy didn’t know how his drug dealer was with girls and if he had any weirdo vibes, he didn’t want to send it Cynthia’s way.

“Moose.” He replied with a shrug, hoping to leave it at that.

“Alright. Forty bucks.” Eddie backed down, messing with the black box once again.

March 1984, Hawkins High School

This went on for almost two months. Every other week Cynthia would waltz up to Tommy, and hand him twenty bucks with a smile and he would come back to school the next day and slip a baggie into her backpack at the end of their shared class, seventh period Algebra. Until Eddie told him this last time that he wanted to meet Moose with an almost uncharacteristic seriousness to him.

Tommy slid onto the seat next to his girlfriend and slid the bill into Cynthia’s open hand as she was gesturing while in conversation with Carol. “Bad news,” he greeted.

“What?” Cynthia replied, slipping the money into her flannel's chest pocket, displeasure washing over her face.

“Munson wants to meet you, said he’s ‘over the middle-man shit.’”

“Can’t blame him.” Carol chimed in, slapping Tommy’s hand away from her lunch tray. “He probably thinks you’re up-charging some poor freshman.”

“Fuck.” She groaned, rubbing a hand over her face, “What did you tell him?”

“I said yes, obviously.”

"Shit, alright.

✰ ✰ ✰

Three hours later, right after the last bell rang, Cynthia made her way past the old soccer field, a trail to an old picnic clearing that hadn’t been used by students regularly since before she got to the high school.

“You two really gonna wait for me or ditch as soon as I get in those woods?” She turned to Carol and Tommy sitting on the old bleachers.

“We’re waiting, scout’s honor.” Tommy waved her off.

Rolling her eyes, “‘Cause that means so much coming from you.”

“I can leave.” He wouldn't actually leave, he doesn't trust Munson.

“Please don’t,” she surrendered. “I’m sorry.”

Before she could turn around and finally go to the clearing, Carol spoke up, “Cyn? Try not to charm the pants off this one. You’re oh and one.”

“What the fuck, dude?”

“Just saying.” She shrugged, pushing a piece of gum into her mouth.

✰ ✰ ✰

Eddie came out not too long after, box in hand as he parted ways with his bandmates. Spotting Tommy Hagan with his girlfriend, he got nervous, what if this was some kind of set-up. Keeping a brave face, he nodded at the pair and continued his walk to the clearing.

He spotted a girl with long, dark brown almost black hair sitting on the table with her back to him and he started to feel even more suspicious.

Hearing footsteps on the leaves behind her, Cynthia turned around and spotted Eddie Munson, “Hey, what’s up?”

Eddie walked closer, slowly, before asking “You Moose?”

She replied with a laugh, “That’s what Tommy’s callin’ me? Damn. Yeah.”

He lightened up and sat down on the same side of the table as her feet were. He felt kind of dumb now, he completely expected Moose to be some big ass jock, not her.

“So, why?” He asked, folding his hands on the table, but not meeting her gaze.

“Why what?” She asked jokingly as she scooched down onto the seat next to him. She shrugged, “I don’t know, it was easier. I haven’t exactly been in the right headspace to deal with new people and it’s easy enough to have Tommy do things.”

Eddie hummed, accepting the answer. He could feel her start getting anxious as he kept quiet. Now that he knew Moose wasn’t some nickname for a dude on the football or wrestling team, he started piecing together how he knew her name. “Is your dad Lionel Moose? The cop?”

Cynthia drew lines in the dirt as she kicked her leg back and forth, “Yeah, he retired a year, year and a half ago.” Her mouth went dry as she started waiting for the inevitable next question.

“Oh.” Eddie nodded, tapping the black box on his side, “and how is he doing?”

“Um,” Cynthia swallowed, trying to keep her composure in front of the drug dealer, “he, uh–.” She wiped a hand over her face, trying to keep hair out of her eyes, “he’s presumably retired. From, from life.”

“Shit.” He mumbled to himself, instantly regretting the small talk, “I’m sorry, I didn’t–”

Sniffling out a response, “you’re good. It’s fine. I’m mostly normal about it now.”

“No, man. I shouldn’t have brought it up.” Eddie responded, pulling his box onto the table and opening it. “How about this: I cut you a deal this time. Fifteen bucks for your half.”

Cynthia chuckled, “Is it that easy to get a discount? I just gotta put on the waterworks for ya?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, meeting her gaze with a smirk, “Just this once, Moose.”

“Sure.” She responded, digging in her pocket and handing him her twenty.

August 1984, Bradley’s Big Buy

Cynthia didn’t want to admit to herself that she was avoiding Eddie Munson, she also refused to admit that she may have had a crush on the guy.

Not like it was embarrassing to have a crush, he was cute and nice to her which she felt that’s just how he was. But she definitely thought it would’ve gone away when she left Hawkins for just over a month to go to camp. It didn’t. Now she was avoiding the guy.

She told her friends that she wanted to finish out the summer sober (a minute lie). Ready to get back on the cheer team, the coach was going to let her back on despite being held back as long as she didn’t get into more trouble.

But here she was, working at the grocery store, stocking shelves, actively avoiding Eddie Munson since he was at the store with a couple of his friends. It looked like they were gearing up for a party, but Cameron, a close friend and co-worker, informed her it was likely they were getting ready for a D&D campaign.

“Holy shit. Moose, is that you?” Fuck. There he was.

Cam snickered and told her to go talk to him and Cynthia obliged with a quick huff.

“Hey, man, what’s goin on?” She approached him with a friendly smile.

“Not much,” He laid his hands in the pockets of his jean shorts. “Are you ignoring me?”

“I was out of town.” She informed, mirroring his current mannerisms. “Took my sister to camp.”

“Okay, because a little birdie told me you were avoiding me.”

Cynthia shook her head, feeling heat coming up her neck, “That birdie wouldn’t happen to be standing right behind me?”

Eddie laughed, eyes darting to Cameron, pretending to stock shelves as she kept a close eye on the pair. “The birdie is actually at the front, he’s ringing up Jeff.”

She took the opportunity to change the subject, “I thought you and Tim hated each other.”

“Yeah?” He shrugged, it was mildly true. “I know he’s one of your buddies, so I asked.”

“About me?” Cynthia turned the smug mood around on him, “did you miss me, Munson?”

The taller boy didn’t have a response for that, he just shook his head with a smile, “I gotta go, see you around.”

October 1984, Mevald’s General Store

Cynthia looked up from her position at the register and saw Eddie outside, he gave her a wave and she nodded back and pointed to the back door, hoping he’d get the hint and meet her in the alley. As soon as he gave a thumbs up, she called out, “Hey, Joyce? I’m gonna take my break real quick.”

“Okay, go ahead.” Joyce responded from the store room, where she disappeared with Bob Newby just five minutes ago..

She exited the building into the alleyway and leaned against the bricks, waiting for Eddie as she patted her pockets down, looking for her cigarettes.

Eddie walked up to her quietly, “Hey, Moose.”

“Hi. You got a light?” There was a stick hanging between her lips and she couldn’t find her lighter, probably left it in her car.

“Yeah.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a plain white BIC, before lighting her cigarette

“Those new?” She was taken aback, changing the subject, hoping he wouldn’t notice the blush on her cheeks.

“What?” He lit his own cigarette, putting the lighter back in his pocket.

“The bats.” She gestured to his right arm.

“Oh. Yeah, got ‘em done about a week ago.”

“Sick.”

“You got any?”

She shook her head, taking a drag, “Want one, don’t know what.”

Eddie got a playfully evil grin on his face, “I could give you one.”

Cynthia laughed, smoke coming out of her nose. “I think you’re cool as fuck, Munson. But there’s no way in hell I’m letting you near me with a tattoo gun.”

He gave her what could’ve been puppy dogs eyes, “I can do stink-n-poke.”

“That’s so much worse.”

Laughing, it was his turn to change the subject, “So what’d you want?”

“An ounce.” Moose muttered, tapping the ashes off the cigarette between her fingers.

“Damn, Cheech, big occasion?”

She laughed at the reference, “Um, kinda, I’m heading to a party tonight and Cam tasked me with bringing the weed, so.”

“Who’s party?”

“Tina’s.” She replied.

Eddie mostly zoned out as Cynthia continued talking, trying to remember who Tina was. When he looked back down at the shorter girl, she was looking at him expectantly. “What?”

She laughed, before taking another drag and asked, “Do you want to come get sheet-faced tonight? More the merrier.”

He almost obliged as he looked at her, her eyes almost sparkling as she asked the question. “I don’t think so, Moose. Not my crowd.”

 “Okay.” She almost seemed disappointed? “Well, I get out of here at five, so could you meet me at my place on Cherry Lane later?”

✰ ✰ ✰

7:28pm. Eddie rolled up to Cynthia’s house, a big brown house with a blue wagon out front. Walking up to the front door, he kept his black tin box in his left hand as knocked with his right.

“Come in.” A woman’s voice called out from behind the door.

He entered the home and saw a bowl of Halloween candy sitting on the ledge next to the door, he started looking through, wanting to take one.

“Oh, it’s you.” Cynthia peeked around the corner, a smile on her face, it looked like she was dressed up for the holiday. “Gimme a sec.”

Finally picking out a couple of candies, Three Musketeers and a Snickers, he watched as she came back into the main room, “nice dress.”

She was wearing a lacy button up shirt and a long, almost bubblegum pink skirt, “thanks,” she responded with a smile before holding out a bill for him.

“I didn’t bring any change.” Eddie said as he watched her walk into the living room to turn off the television, checking out the fifty dollar bill between his fingers.

“Keep the change,” she waved him off while approaching him at the entranceway of the house. “I know it’s a hell of a drive from Forest Hills, especially with all the Trick-or-Treaters.”

“Shit, alright. Thanks.” He reached into the box and pulled out a larger baggie and handed it to the girl, “It’s two different kinds, I have to make a run soon.”

“Cool.” She slid the bag into her purse that matched the skirt almost exactly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

PART TWO

#cynthia moose #ocapp #strangerthingsocs #allaboutocs #fd: stranger things #eddie munson x oc #w: running town #k writes #*

[itsapeterthing]

9 with Bucky Barnes and Jack Russell (can be poly if you write poly relationships, I can't decide if I want one or the since I love both equally 😍)

Mornings with Bucky Would Include…

Headcanons on Mornings with Bucky Barnes

author’s note: hi hun thanks for requesting! others requested one for jack russell so his will be in a separate post! i hope you enjoy this short and sweet headcanon list!

masterlist || inbox || bucky barnes masterlist

i think when you two first started dating, there wouldn’t be much in terms of mornings together.

as much as bucky had opened himself up to the idea of a relationship, he couldn’t help but have this voice at the back of head that convinced him that something bad would happen.

and since you were his first priority, that would mean that you would fall asleep in his arms and wake up in an empty bed.

and every morning you would climb out of bed and make your way into the living room, finding him half asleep on the couch.

“why did you leave?”

“uh... i uh... snore.”

and you just cross your arms and give him a look.

eventually, you would convince him that you feel safer in his arms throughout the night and wake up with him beside you in the mornings.

every morning when you first woke up, you mentally thanked whatever architect had designed your bedroom window to face the rising sun because the way the light poured in through the blinds and onto buck’s back was heavenly.

^ yes, i think bucky sleeps on his stomach when he’s not holding you. i didn't think this until three seconds ago, but now its a hill i’ll die on. sue me.

it’s hard to say whether he wakes up first or you.

buck’s prone to waking up early thanks to his days of rough gigs back in the forties before his time in the army and being held captive by hydra, but if he’s really comfortable around you and feels secure in everything going on around him, I think he would snooze for hours past you.

if he wakes up first, he would probably stay still for a while just admiring you, not wanting to disturb your peaceful slumber.

sometimes (most of the time) he gets sentimental and thanks whoever’s looking out for him that despite everything else he’s dealt with, at least they gave him you.

buck is rough and ragged and probably wouldn’t say that to you first thing in the morning, but just know that he’s thinking it.

there are two types of wake up calls with bucky.

one, like the moment mentioned above,

where he would run his hand up and down your back, leaving kisses against your cheek.

(maybe even whispering a sweet nothing or two in his raspy morning voice he knows you love so much).

and you two would lay in bed much longer than either of you had anticipated, just basking in your slow mornings with one another.

however, the second one is much different.

(and arguably more romantic)

a lot of people, including bucky himself, forget what the super soldier was like before hydra and the army.

sure, he was tough and a flirt, but he was also cocky as hell and would tease his sisters, mom and steve rogers endlessly.

and you, his amazing, wonderful, beautiful significant other were no different.

seeing you in your peaceful daze, bucky would use his vibranium arm as a torturous alarm clock, letting the cold metal meet the sensitive skin around your cold waist.

and you, of course, jolt into consciousness.

“are you kidding me, buck!”

“what! you said you wanted to wake up early!”

-amid chuckles in the cockiest voice you’ve ever heard

“not like that!”

now, I would like to tell you that bucky would cook breakfast for you, but I don't know that what he made could be considered breakfast.

if you didnt wake up to him beside you, you'd wake up to the fire alarm blaring from the kitchen.

you’d find your poor bucky boy flailing over the stove, swatting smoke out of the way while he cursed to himself.

“shit. shit. shit!”

you’d appreciate the effort but after taking a single glance at the burnt monstrosity in the skillet, you’d give each other a knowing look.

“how about we go to a restaurant?”

“sounds like a plan, doll.”

probably both of your favorite parts of every morning was just waking up in each other’s arms and having the one you love be the first thing that you see (and a lovely way to start your day).

bucky would always be a bit more sentimental because every morning with you beside him was another day he got to have you by his side.

and he would never not thank his lucky stars that he’d have you to the end of the line.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction

[lifesizehysteria]

To Where You Are (1/?) | An AdamsFoster Fic

Fandom: The Fosters/AdamsFoster

Summary: Based on my previous story, Journey to You, this chronicles Lena's side of all of the events that took place between the flashbacks from 1x09. This is how Lena fell in love with Stef and, despite every obstacle in the way, was finally able to accept and meet Stef exactly where she was on her journey.

Rating: T

A/N: When I came back to finish Journey to You, one thing I really felt was missing was Lena's side of things and I realized that I should have written it by alternating their perspectives. It was too late by then but the more time I spent in the story, the more I wanted to really get into Lena's life, heart, and mind. So that's what I did. I owe so much of this to my incredible beta who not just supported the idea but actively encouraged it. My favorite part, so far, has been getting to really breathe life into Lena and allow her to be a whole person, giving her friends, exploring her past and her relationships, and getting to know her outside of Stef and the kids. It's only made me love her more, which I hadn't thought was possible. I hope whoever is still around to read this loves her more, too.

Another important note, for those more familiar with Journey to You, the story is the same but there are details that will be different. I wanted to give myself room to make small changes in order to accommodate the improvement in my writing skills over the almost 10 years since I started writing JTY. Nothing will significantly impact the story, except to fix a few minor plot holes and to allow for better characterization and dialogue because I'm better at those than I was in 2013.

~

Chapter 1: Cassiopeia

“Can you please pull the student file for this morning’s admissions tour for me?” Lena begged Gabe as she rushed into the main office. 

“Isn’t Mark doing it?” he asked while flipping through a handful of files on his desk. He was a young man with a rich, dark complexion, buck teeth, and wire rimmed glasses.

“Apparently, he and Karina are still in that meeting with the president of the school board.”

“Seriously?” He looked down at his watch. “It’s been at least two hours.”

“I know. And since Karina just asked me to take Mark’s appointment, it doesn’t look like it’ll be ending any time soon.” Lena shook her head.

“Well thank god you didn’t have anything to do today,” Gabe smirked.

Lena let out a dry laugh. “Tell that to my two hundred unanswered emails.”

“An easy day then,” he said, making Lena roll her eyes and smile. He held out the file for her.

“Ugh, thank you! You’re a lifesaver.”

“My pleasure.”

Lena returned the toothy grin he gave as she tucked the file under her arm and hurried back to her office.

At her desk, Lena glanced at the clock. She had less than ten minutes. Opening up the student file, she found just a single paper. The prospective student, Brandon Foster, was a five-year-old boy starting kindergarten. A simple, straightforward enrollment. Relief started to replace some of the urgency of an unexpected appointment. Never one to waste any time, she pulled a granola bar from her desk drawer to quiet her stomach that was already beginning to grumble about missing lunch and opened up her email.

She was two paragraphs and three attachments into an email when her office phone rang.

“Duty ca-alls,” Gabe sang into her ear. She looked at the clock; it was five after one.

“Okay I’ll, uh, I’ll be right there. Just tell them I’m in a meeting or something. I just need a minute to finish up.”

“Don’t worry. I got you.” 

“You’re the best! Thank you! Thank you, thank you!” Hanging up the phone as she spoke, Lena saved her email as a draft and wrote herself a reminder to finish it later. She stood, brushed the crumbs from her lap and straightened out her sweater before heading back out to the main office.

“Where are they?” Lena asked, glancing around at the empty chairs. 

“It’s just the mom. She said she was going to wait outside. Seemed jumpy.” Gabe shrugged. 

“Okay…” Lena pressed her lips together, eyebrows raised. “I guess… I’ll go find her? I have no idea who I’m looking for.”

“Sorry. I should have just told her to wait here.”

“No, no it’s fine. It’s fine. I’m sure I’ll find her.” Lena started toward the door. 

“She was wearing a white striped shirt. Blonde hair to about here.” Gabe held his hand up above his shoulder. “Y’know… Mom hair.” He wrinkled his nose and Lena couldn’t help but laugh.

“Thanks,” she said, still smiling as she swept from the room.

Lena’s first stop was the bench just outside the front doors but she sighed when she found it empty. Of course it couldn’t be that easy. She put her hand up to shade her eyes, squinting in the bright afternoon sun as she scanned the grove. It was empty. There was no one near the parking lot. Where was she? With a little huff, she started off toward the elementary side of the school.

The gleeful sound of children playing reached her before the sight of the playground. It was afternoon recess and the kids were delighting in the unusually warm spring weather. Turning the corner around the main building, the playground emerged and along with it, the back of a blonde-haired woman wearing a white shirt sitting on another bench. Lena could just make out the stripes in the shirt and the way the ends of her hair flipped out along the tops of her shoulders. That had to be her. 

Lena gave her long, dark hair a shake so it rippled down her back, then straightened out the hem of her sweater again before heading in the woman’s direction. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said as she approached the bench. When the woman startled, Lena offered an apologetic smile and her hand as she turned to face her. “Hi. I’m Lena Adams, the assistant vice principal.”

“Hi, I’m Stef Foster.” She stood to shake her hand and Lena would have noticed the way her firm yet gentle grip held on a little too long if she hadn’t been distracted by the way her hair glowed golden in the sun, or her smile that was as warm as the breeze blowing against her skin, or the way her hazel eyes held her captive so she couldn’t look away. For just a moment, Lena forgot how to breathe. 

The feeling of her grip loosening brought Lena back from wherever she had just been and she exhaled a nervous laugh.

“So... your son...” was all she could think to say. 

“Uh, Brandon... is—” Mrs. Foster stuttered, “Brandon.”

“Brandon—” Lena repeated, trying to cement his name in her now very distracted mind.

“Right,” she laughed. 

“He will be starting Kindergarten this fall?” At least she could remember that. 

“Yes. He’s five.”

“Great. Well, I would be glad to give you a tour, tell you about our school. Are we waiting for your husband to join?”

“Uh, no. He’s... not.” She paused. “He’s uh...” Still stumbling over her words, her cheeks grew pink and she looked away as Lena watched her. “He couldn’t make it,” she finally blurted out, laughing and shaking her head as if it might help the words come easier. Lena was glad she was laughing at herself because she couldn’t help but laugh, too.

“Okay.” Lena nodded her head, still smiling. “Well, um...” It wasn’t often she found herself tongue tied, not even by an attractive woman, but something about Stef Foster had her at a loss for words. “Follow me.” She dipped her chin, dragging her eyes away for the first time and feeling the blood rise to her face as she turned to lead Mrs. Foster back toward the front of the main building. 

Lena used the short walk to compose herself. It was so unlike her to be flustered yet she found her mind focused more on the presence of Mrs. Foster walking just behind her than on the task at hand. It was a good thing the tour was such a routine. 

“This is the grove,” Lena said, falling into the role like it was a well-practiced script, despite her distraction. They had reached the grassy area outside the main office that was manicured and dotted with trees. A group of picnic-style tables was off to the left where students could eat lunch outside. “It is mostly used for recreation but is occasionally utilized for outdoor classes. It’s the only outdoor common area used by the grade school as well as the middle and high schools. Its position right in front of the offices allows it to be closely monitored and grade school children are to always be accompanied by an adult when in this area. It’s very important that all of the children feel they are safe at all times to promote the most learning-friendly, distraction-free environment possible.”

They continued their walk along the path toward the out buildings on the other side of the grove. As Lena described the music and theater programs, she glanced back at Mrs. Foster. She was quiet but she nodded along in all the right places. Her hands stayed clasped in front of her and when they stopped, there was a tension in her shoulders that lengthened her back so it was too straight. She never quite met Lena’s gaze. 

“Has your son shown any interest in music?” Lena asked. 

“What?” 

“Brandon. Does he like music?”

“Oh right. Yes, actually. He has one of those miniature keyboards. You know the ones you can change the type of sound it makes?” 

She nodded, holding back a smile. Mrs. Foster grinned as she talked about her son and Lena appreciated the way that smile lit up her whole face. 

“Well, he loves it. Actually, the first night he had it he took it to bed with him. He wouldn’t put it down and eventually fell asleep with it tucked under the blanket!” Mrs. Foster laughed. 

“Aw, that’s sweet. I’m sure it was precious to see.”

“It was. I actually took a picture. How could I resist? He was so cute snuggled up with his little keyboard.” 

For the first time since they began, Mrs. Foster was making eye contact and Lena once again felt herself get trapped in her gaze. As ridiculous as she felt, she couldn’t make herself look away. 

“It must be one of his favorite toys.” 

“Second only to Joe.”

“Let me guess. A teddy bear?”

“Close. He’s a monkey. And so is Joe.”

Confused, Lena tilted her head to one side. “I’m sorry?”

“Sorry,” Mrs. Foster said, waving away the comment. “That was funnier in my head.” She shrugged. “Most of my jokes are, actually.” She gave a tight, self-conscious chuckle, her cheeks blossoming pink. When Lena pieced the joke together, she fell into a belly laugh. It really was a terrible joke, which somehow made it funnier. 

“Well,” Lena cleared her throat, trying to rein herself in. “I’m looking forward to meeting them both. Shall we continue?” 

“Absolutely,” Mrs. Foster agreed as Lena turned to continue along the path. She pointed out the science building and described the school’s mission of inspiring individuals to create community through community teaching as they passed the middle and high school side of the school before wrapping around to the back of the building. 

“This is the gym. It separates the grade school from the middle and high schools and is the other common area used by all grades. This is the elementary wing.” She gestured toward the rest of the building. “Would you like to see the inside?”

“Sure. That would be great.”

As they approached the back entrance, Mrs. Foster pulled on the door then stared at it when it didn’t open. Lena bit her lip to keep from laughing and stepped in front of her to swipe her I.D. badge. The door unlocked with a click. 

“All entrances at the back of the school are locked from the outside.” 

Mrs. Foster rocked back on her heels and laughed towards the ground, shaking her head. “Of course. That, uh, that makes sense. Wanna keep the kids safe. Yeah. Good... Good.”

This time Lena’s giggle escaped. She tried to cover it by clearing her throat, looking away as she held the door open. Giggling? Seriously? She could not believe herself but her burning cheeks were undeniable proof that she was, in fact, making an absolute fool of herself. 

She let the door close behind her and led Mrs. Foster down the hallway. “While we can’t escape standardized testing, our focus is still on giving kids a well-rounded, world-based education. One way we do that, especially with the elementary schoolers, is through exploratory learning. It’s hands-on learning done during school hours to help them absorb as much as possible through play and action. It encourages true understanding and knowledge rather than short-term memorization to pass tests. We strive for home-school balance and understand the importance of free play as part of a child’s education and development.”

“I don’t know what half of that means but it sounds very impressive!” 

Lena chuckled. “It just means we want kids to actually learn while they’re here. And that they don’t start getting homework until middle school.” 

“Oh, well, in that case, it is very impressive.” Mrs. Foster nodded. 

“Thank you,” Lena said, her chin lifting a bit. Curriculum development was a top priority of hers and the school’s success in that area was something she took great pride in. 

They continued through the elementary wing, taking a moment to greet a couple of passing teachers. Mrs. Foster, who seemed much more comfortable by then, asked a few questions and they were just about back to the office when they ran into the principal in the hall.

“This is Karina Sanchez, Principal of Anchor Beach. Karina, this is Stef Foster. She’s touring the school today.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Karina said, shaking Mrs. Foster’s extended hand. “So sorry about the sudden change earlier. Hopefully you’ve been able to get all your questions answered.” 

Mrs. Foster looked from Karina to Lena, smiling. “I have. Ms. Adams has been wonderful.” Lena felt heat rise to her cheeks at the compliment.

“Great,” Karina said with a nod. “Well, it was nice to meet you. I hope we’ll be seeing more of you in the future.”

“Hopefully.”

Karina smiled and nodded again before heading in the opposite direction.

“Okay,” Lena faced Mrs. Foster again, clasping her hands in front of her, “I guess we’re just about done. Do you already have an appointment set up for an evaluation?”

“Yes. Next Monday.”

“Perfect. Would you like to come back to my office to fill out the enrollment papers?”

Mrs. Foster’s lips twitched as she pressed them together and looked down at the ground for a moment. “Actually, I, um... I need to talk to my husband first. He was supposed to be here today but...” she paused and shook her head. “Anyway, he’s not completely sold on the whole charter school thing. Today was supposed to help convince him.” She shrugged her shoulders up toward her ears and gave an uneasy smile. 

“That’s fine! I completely understand,” Lena assured her. “You have plenty of time to decide. You can just fill out the paperwork when you come for the evaluation. If you’ve made up your minds by then, of course,” she added, hoping not to sound presumptuous.

“That sounds perfect. Hopefully I’m able to convince him. I think this would be the perfect fit for Brandon.”

“You know what, I think I have something that might help. Do you mind waiting? I’ll be back in just a moment.”

“Not at all.”

“Great.” With a nod, Lena turned and walked into the office.

“How’s it going?” Gabe asked as she passed his desk again. 

Lena didn’t answer, just glanced at him with her eyebrows raised before pulling open a filing cabinet behind him. 

“What’s that look for?”

Again, Lena didn’t answer. She thumbed through the files, pulling out pamphlet after pamphlet. When a small mountain had grown on top of the filing cabinet, she gave the drawer a shove and it closed with a metallic groan. She gathered the pamphlets and turned around. Gabe was still staring at her, his arms over his chest, one leg crossed over the other, foot swinging.  

“We’ll talk when I’m finished,” Lena said and strode from the room. 

“Here.” She held the stack out to Mrs. Foster. “These are full of information about the school, about different programs, some statistics and facts about charter schools versus standard public schools. Maybe this will help convince him.” 

“Thank you.” Mrs. Foster took the papers from her and smiled that charming smile, making Lena’s cheeks warm again. 

She swallowed so she could speak. Or try to, at least. “Alright. Well. Do you have any questions I can answer for you?”

“No, I don’t think so. I’m pretty much set with these.” She gave the pamphlets a wave. 

“Alright then. Thank you for coming. I’ll see you next Monday with your husband and Brandon.”

“Great. It was very nice to meet you, Ms. Adams.”

Lena took hold of her outstretched hand and smiled. “Oh. Please, call me Lena.”

“Only if you call me Stef.” Her grin made it all the way up to her eyes. 

“Okay. Thank you again, Stef.” She lingered on the name just a bit. It suited her, she decided.

“No, thank you. We’ll see you Monday, Lena.” 

Lena hadn’t realized she was still holding onto her hand until Stef had to pull it away so she could leave. With her lower lip clamped between her teeth, she watched Stef walk away, trying not to smile like an absolute idiot. When Stef was long out of sight, Lena shook her head as if she might be able to shake her out of it. What was she doing?

She strode back into the office and before Gabe could say anything she said, “Can I talk to you in my office?” She didn’t wait for an answer, continuing down the hallway and unlocking her door. She held it open while he caught up then followed him in and closed it behind herself. 

“What is going on? You’re acting so weird.”

She turned on him, crossing to stand just a few feet away. “You could have warned me that she was gorgeous.” Lena admonished him in a harsh whisper despite the closed door. 

“Huh?”

“Stef— Mrs. Foster?” She gestured out the window toward the parking lot. 

“You mean, Mrs. Mom Hair?” He shrugged and plopped down in one of the chairs by Lena’s desk. “She didn’t seem like your type.”

Taken aback, she stared at him with her eyebrows drawn together. “I don’t have a type.”

He looked over his shoulder at her, eyebrows arched, and laughed.

“I don’t,” Lena insisted as she went to sit behind her desk. 

“Yes. You do. Your type is tall, dark, and expensive. She was none of those.”

“Excuse me?” Lena tucked her chin, indignant. 

“Hmm, lets see... Attorney, doctor, model, publicist...” As he rattled off her list of most recent exes, he ticked them off on his fingers. “There was that artist in there but she was obviously a trust fund baby, even though she pretended not to be. She couldn’t help the fact that she couldn’t make any money because was a terrible artist.”

“She wasn’t terrible, she was avant-garde. And I can’t believe you think I’m that shallow! I don’t date people for their money.”

“I know that and I’m not judging.” He leaned forward, his hand up between them for emphasis. “Trust me. You just like women with a certain... amount of class. It’s not your fault that tends to mean they also have money.” Gabe shrugged and sat back in his chair again.

Lena opened her mouth to argue but closed it again when she had no defense. “Well, I’m still mad you didn’t warn me. I had no idea what I was walking into and ended up looking like an idiot.”

“Well, that’s doubtful.” He rolled his eyes at her. “And don’t blame me. She’s not exactly my type either, you know.”

“Just because you’re gay doesn’t mean you’re blind.”

“No but you might need to borrow my glasses.”

Lena pursed her lips and tilted her head in disapproval. 

“What? She’s blonde, bland, and boring.”

“She’s not boring. She was very nice.

“Those are not mutually exclusive.”

“She’s also funny,” she insisted, though that wasn’t exactly right. She had a unique sense of humor that almost came across like her jokes were bad on purpose. Lena had a strong feeling Stef was a fan of really awful puns and even if it was more endearing than it was actually funny, she had still made Lena laugh. A lot.

Gabe leaned toward her again, crossing his arms in front of him on the desk. “Look, if you’re suddenly into Mrs. Brady, I say go for it. Maybe a change will be good for you.”

“I’m not into her. She’s just pretty.”

“And funny,” he reminded her.

“She’s also married.”

Gabe smirked and leaned back. “Luckily for you, you can go to any park on any Saturday morning and find a hundred Mrs. Bradys just like her.”

Lena shook her head. “No you can’t. Not like her.”

Gabe’s eyebrows shot up and he regarded her over the top of his glasses with a long, slow blink.

“Oo-Kay.” He put his hands up in surrender. “This just went to a whole other level.” Pushing himself up, he stood and shook his head. “Either you need to get laid or you need a Come to Jesus meeting and I’m not qualified for either of those things so I’m gonna go ahead and go back to my desk now.” As he spoke, he backed up toward the door until the knob was in his hand behind him. “Good luck with... all of this,” he said, gesturing his other hand at her in a circle. He wasn’t even trying to hide his amusement with himself as he swung open the door. Halfway out, he leaned back around and added, “Call me if you need a wing man, though. Seriously. I’m down.”

Unwilling to dignify him with a response, she watched him with narrowed eyes as he held his hand up to his ear like a phone and mouthed, “call me” before leaving her with a final wink. When the door closed behind him, Lena deflated against her chair, letting her head fall back. She rolled her eyes as she stared at the ceiling, pretending that she was annoyed with Gabe instead of herself. 

#adamsfoster #adamsfosterfic #the fosters #lena adams foster #stef adams foster #written by lifesizehysteria #twya story #i'm not committing to posting more at this time #but i will have this up on ao3 and ff soon when my brain is actually working

[saturniiinae]

//my mother//

i used to feel a lot of pride when people told me i was like my mother. i thought she was so beautiful, like the old movie starlets in noir romantics that filled my adolescence. she would sing, "you are my sunshine" & make us her half-assed version of fettuccine alfredo (that i crave to this day, ragu/rotisserie/1 $noodles). she would mow the lawn & plant the most beautiful gardens where she would spend her afternoons. she would take us to the library. share a pint of ice cream & let us pick out a movie each saturday. she never said no to renting the same sonic video game over & over. she took did my makeup & took pictures just because. she would play with my hair while we sat on the couch during thunderstorms. my mom was strong, the strongest person i knew who had gone through so much, yet she still got through it. it never took her light. she was spunky, wore sundresses even in the winter, & cried over movies about dogs dying. she would tell me the story of how she met my father, how she fell in love with the cowboy. she was the outlaw, the bucking, kicking mare finally caroled and calmed down.

now, i just feel shame over the idea.

because, although i once loved the concept of looking like someone once so angelic, now all i see is something laying low in the darkest corner of the bedroom. eyes all red & glowing.

when i am told i am like my mother, i feel a rage boil over.

because now my mother is monster, and the idea of being anything like that means i am also a monster.

here is something that i still struggle with accepting:

the person i once loved & knew is dead & gone & replaced with something that sort of resembles the shell.

she cocooned & emerged a megalopyge opercularis.

the idea is the sensation of a chemical burn on my left arm, corrosion of my skin like the same aisles the pigs reside in.

looking like my mother, the way she smiles & sings, when i slide her old dresses on my mangled skin,

it has led to nothing but reprecussions for a therianthrope i did not choose to resemble the remnants of.

i lost everything.

do you not understand?

the things she took? the things she did? the things i can only speak about in a place where no one will ever piece together who it is on the other end of the telephone?

when i am told i am like my mother, all i hear is the phone call i received on halloween night, my 16th year alive on this earth. the one where she giggled like a little girl. when she said she did something bad & needed to know where i was. when i could hear him laughing beside her.

all i hear is the toilet lid cracking, what it sounds like to put porcelain against her skin as i try to push the door in.

all i hear is the late night phone calls & the moaning down the halls when i found them in my bedroom.

how scared i was when i could not find her with the threats of gunshots ringing down the hall. i looked & looked & called & called & she was too busy in the back of a car i still hate driving. she had no idea that her child could be dead from an angry boy with a gun. that her other was stuck in a hallway full of other little kids.

the laughter on the football field & she was sitting by my father. the boy was above them, looking down.

what the highway sounds like at 7 a.m. as i walked the 2 miles to my classroom.

how no one said a word when i handed in my textbooks & asked for my final transcripts.

how the teachers talked about me in the halls.

how the students laughed at me.

the note in my locker.

how he said he fucked me, too, i was a little slut, too.

the bruises on her body.

going to the gym is a trigger.

when she leaves, i think it will be the night i get the call that she was accidentally successful in whatever stunt she decided to pull out of misguided anger. the idea of picking up pieces of her body. pressing my dads shirt against her wrists. gluing his neck shut. the smell of alcoholics vomit never leaves the nose.

i lost my father for an entire spring, summer, fall, & a winter. multi-years & having to move across the state, it might as well have been a new country.

when i am told i am like my mother, all i hear is her denial.

all i hear is her excuses.

the way her hands felt against my face & how she can not even remember doing it in the first place.

picking up my clothing from the ground as she threw it.

the police radio transcripts where she used the same scripts on me that she did with my father.

my mother became cold.

empty.

mean.

hating.

spitting.

biting.

i am not like my mother.

i choose warmth.

i choose to make others feel safety.

when i see a teenager, i see a child, i see a baby that needs protecting.

i believe people.

i listen.

i refused to become my situation. i fight it continuously.

i am the only one who acknowledges the situation,

i wish others did, too,

because now i no longer ever feel real.

there is a story i am too afraid to tell the world, & i do not understand why i still want to protect her.

but please.

do not tell me that i am like my mother.

you have never met the monster that hides in the hallways.

i may be the scape goat.

but i am not my fucking mother.

#dreamjournal.txt

[meanwhileinstasiville]

Today's theme is "you can't get upset about it"

And therefore coopers *everywhere* value added with yellow clad people. The top down soundtrack on wheels blared in all seasons? With a cooper. At the upper part of the park? A guy milling around with ponytail similar to "was at waco!" guy from a local dollar store.

(After someone sought me out with their car, then flipped me off while getting on the interstate; this is foregone foregone conclusion)

Consider this. Some time ago, I had mentioned that there was "really good pitch shift wheel usage" in a chip tune track some japanese person had used synth to replicate guitar tapping solos and such. At a library terminal I was sitting at. Then I walked to a neighboring park. You *would never guess* what was sitting on a bear proof garbage disposal next to a creek *and* in the original box; a casio synthesizer keyboard that I used to have when I was in elementary school. Same exact model. So and, commentary like youtube comments produced that. And no, there's no pitch shift on those but that wasn't the point of that instrument back then. And it was keyboard *2*

So I have to consider the possibilities between say, local drug kingpin hoped to interfere with developmental experiences of a kid living out on sixty six. Versus my friend's dad doesn't think I'm worth anything and also, paradoxically, that *my* dad is a state actor at place and time back then. So I had no need to remember the make and model of that casio, because someone was waiting to confront me with it over a social media comment. And that instrument is *from the 1980s*.

And the comment stands, because *they added those wheels later* after people were modulating affecting a glissando (midi doesn't handle it well for technical reasons) because tracking notes that can't have the same time signature nonetheless *representing a chord*, was essentially a demand. Soaring arpeggios aren't good enough and that was the limit of the technology by design back then. And that's neither here nor there. One of the two men is the answer to a keyboard appears on a garbage can within ten or fifteen minutes of a comment.

"What will you do when you can't express anger or people in uniforms will show up and shoot you?"

Well, today it draws back to grandpa who was Irish and said "laughter is a sign of weakness" and a cue to slap his kids around (which he did) including my mom. And I'm a xerox of him. So what did I do? Laugh all the time; he's not going to punch *himself* as a child, in the face.

So I file it under the jeep that I "paid too much for", and that "push the clutch in when you brake" as the goateed and latino built guy selling it to me had said when I got it. It got broken into. It got screwed with. The thing was a franken-jeep from a Dutch family of jeep fanatics. And I was in it for the experience; because I couldn't trust anymore than that. Can't take it to "Oh I'll stop" because someone would think it would be funny when it didn't work afterward. To my cousin who swore I paid too much, while telling me things "won't work out the way you think they will" while hitching a ride in it *past my boss's house incidentally*; it had like 1500 bucks in tires on it.

I couldn't take it to les schwab because another guy almost died when they didn't lug his tire. He's going around a corner, and the tire is gone, and he finds himself looking at the sky in the middle of a busy intersection. Maybe he was getting "too cushy" with so-called golden boy status with the owner. Who knows. But I can't trust them after that happened.

I couldn't take it to mclures anymore; mclures in name only for some time. I'm working with people who have access to all the tools and training of a local locksmith which ended up breaking the lock on the driver's side door. Coworkers. Gang members when I was visiting a friend a few hundred miles away. It's not the situation where you have access to these services a lot of people think nothing of soliciting. And there's sudden insecurity on demand like an assistant manager found out leaving les schwab; so it's not like stable employment where I'm going to a dealership.

Sometimes, I see other people having related experiences; a woman burdened with a name "holy", meaning divine to white people. Latinos figure it's hole-y; como hueco, like a hole. Meaning worthless in the parlance of locales. She signed up to be treated like a hole where cartels hold away and latinos are more common than they're not. And because jokes are funny or else. But and, all of them are doing better than I am social life milestone wise. She has the "John Drinkwater, water quality specialist" problem. Where would he be instead? Probably drowned because "that's funny" too.

Before any of the coopers, there were the "outlier" service vehicles so I'm worth less than pruning a fingernail by latino estimation. My capacity to be examined and amusing is all that's kept me from being killed all these years. Some attempts have been made anyway but that's a completely different story, though it involves some of the same people. Which, if you're following me around with your car based on a misperception or even because someone told you to; I would think about *examining your quality of life*

And I'm a xerox of a really bad guy so I expect the bad karma.

[b6cky]

smitten

synopsis: sam had invited both y/n and bucky around for one of his family’s infamous barbecues. bucky can’t help how in love he is with y/n after watching them hang around with the kids.

pairing: bucky barnes x gn!reader

tags/warnings: just pure heart wrenching fluff!

taglist: @inu1gf @sp1deys ( send ask to be added )

author’s notes: it is 2am i can’t sleep so please enjoy my brainrotting!! (it’s not 6am i managed to take that long writing this short little thing) :’)

“bucky! my man!” sam pulled bucky in close for a tight embrace. despite their differences, bucky and sam were very good friends especially after everything with the flag smashers went down.

“it’s good t’see you, sam,” bucky pulled away smiling warmly at sam, “i brought wine.”

“buck, you don’t have to bring wine every time you visit, man!” sam shook his head, smiling a little bit, “you’re gonna end up thinking i invite you over just for the damn wine.”

“who says i don’t think that already?” bucky raised an eyebrow, teasing his friend, “i’m kiddin’ sam, i’m just kidding.”

“everyone’s out back, i think y/n will be here soon though,” sam smirked, nudging bucky.

“what? don’t tell me you’re still on that,” bucky groaned, “y/n and i are just friends, nothing more.”

“not yet.”

“watch it, pal.” bucky pointed a finger at sam as a warning, but they both knew nothing would come from it. bucky wouldn’t hurt sam, at least, he tried his best not to. sometimes sam was a very punchable person.

“y/n!!” sam’s two nephews sprinted passed bucky and sam to jump up into y/n’s arms.

“where was my hello..” bucky pouted, jokingly, “i should quit bringing wine and start bringing apple juice.”

“hey AJ! hey cass! you two.. hm, what’s different?” y/n leant down, squinting at the two boys, “you two have grown since i last saw you! gosh, you two are going to be taller than me soon!”

“see i told you i grew!” AJ hissed at his younger brother, who just rolled his eyes.

“i grew too! right, y/n!” cass looked up at y/n, who just grinned at the boy.

“absolutely, champ! now, let me say hi to your uncle sam and buck real quick, i’ll meet you out back and i’ll teach you something real cool, okay?” y/n laughed as the two boys hurriedly ran back out the house, excited to learn whatever y/n was going to teach them.

“sam! thanks so much for inviting me over, i brought wine!” y/n smiled, handing sam a paper bag and then wrapping their arms around him for a tight hug.

“hello to you too, y/n,” bucky laughed.

“i’m gettin’ to you, wait your turn, old man.” y/n pulled away from sam.

“it’s good to see you, y/n! how’s life been treating you?” sam asked.

“pretty good, i’ve been watching morgan a lot for pep, god knows that woman needs a break from being a mom once in a while,” y/n smiled, “hey, bucky, how’re you doing, old man?”

bucky opened his arms for a hug, “you know, you don’t have to point out the fact i’m a hundred years old every time you see me.”

y/n wrapped their arms around bucky and hugged him tight, “one hundred and six, actually.”

“yeah, yeah,” bucky rolled his eyes, pulling away from the hug.

“so, how’s the dating thing going? meet anyone special?” sam asked, bucky shooting him a look.

“oh, yeaah.. the dating thing…” y/n laughed bitterly, “i’m starting to think i might just not see anyone, all the people i’ve seen are either too up their ass, or just want to date to brag about ‘banging an avenger’, honestly the gall of some of these people!”

“did someone actually say that to you?” bucky narrowed his eyes, feeling both sorry for them and slightly protective. y/n was a genuinely nice person with a good heart, they deserved nothing but the best in bucky’s mind.

“yeah, this guy.. what was his name? one of the big three, i think it was,” y/n paused trying to remember his name.

“the big three? wizards, aliens, or cyborgs?” bucky furrowed his eyebrows together, confused on what the big three had to do with the date.

“no, no,” y/n chuckled, “the big three, chad, brad and thad.”

“that’s on you for going out with a guy with one of those names, y/n.” sam laughed.

“people name their kids thad..? holy cow these newer generations are getting worse with names.” bucky mumbled, making y/n laugh.

“you really got the whole old man shtick on point, huh?”

“y’know that joke gets funnier every time you repeat it,” bucky quipped sarcastically.

“y/n!!!” both of sam’s nephews yelled out for them.

“well, that’s my cue, i’ll catch up with you two later, if you need any help just holler!” y/n smiled and then rushed out of the house, “coming you two!”

“boy, you are whipped.” sam laughed.

“what? i am not.”

“yeah right, you are absolutely smitten.” sam crossed his arms.

“sam, shut up, before i shut you up.”

“okay, this is going to make all the girls love you, or boys, who knows!” y/n chuckled at the two boys in front of them. the three of them were all sat on a little grass patch together and the two boys were staring at y/n intently.

“what is it!” cass yelled.

“daisy chains and flower crowns!” y/n grinned.

“woah!!” the two boys exclaimed.

“wait, what’s that?” AJ scrunched up his face in confusion.

“so, you’re going to get some daisies, lucky for you i picked some before i got here! and then you’re going to very carefully pinch a little hole into the stem, you have to be careful with this part, and then you grab another daisy and you just slide the stem through the little hole you made aaaaand, bam! that’s the start of your daisy chain that you can make into a flower crown!” y/n grinned, showing off the tiny daisy chain that they had made.

“that’s so cool!” cass smiled.

“i’m going to make one for you, y/n!” AJ grinned.

“thank you!” y/n laughed, grabbing the basket of daisies that they picked earlier that day and putting it in the middle of all three of them.

“gosh, they are just so amazing with the boys,” sarah smiled, taking a sip from her glass of wine and watching y/n with her two sons.

“can’t wait for the day they have some of their own kids running around, little y/n jr,” sam laughed, but bucky didn’t join in with the conversation the two wilson siblings were having and just watched y/n with the two boys. a soft smile spreading across his face and his eyes held such a tender look that sam almost couldn’t poke fun at him. almost.

“earth to lover boy, hellooo!” sam waved his hand in front of bucky’s face and bucky grabbed his hand and shot him a look.

“why don’t you just go over to them, talk with them for a little bit,” sarah chuckled, fully aware of bucky’s not so secret feelings for y/n. it was painfully obvious… and sam had a pretty big mouth.

“i have no idea what you’re talkin’ about.” he grabbed his glass of beer and put it to his mouth, hiding his face from the two’s shared unimpressed looks.

“buck, just go and sit with them, i know you want to,” sam grinned.

“if it’ll make you shut up, then sure.” bucky took a gulp of his beer, before slamming the glass back down on the table and making his way over to y/n.

“that boy is smitten.”

“it’s almost adorable.” sam laughed.

“hey, y/n.” bucky sat down next to y/n on the grass, awkwardly trying to find a comfortable way to sit, “AJ, cass, whaddya got there?”

“these are daisy chains! we are making crowns!” cass explained, holding his daisy chain up for bucky to see.

“hey, buck! here, wait, sit still..” y/n reached to their side and pulled up a flower crown and carefully placed it onto bucky’s head, “awh, you look adorable.”

“thanks, doll, care to teach me how to make one of these?” he chuckled, trying his best to not move so much so the flower crown stayed on his head.

“of course,” y/n smiled softly at him.

“hey, uncle bucky! will you play video games with us later!” AJ asked, cass following his request with a bunch of ‘please, please, please!’.

“i’d love to, but don’t you want to play with y/n? i’m sure they’re a lot better at it than i am, kid.” bucky laughed.

“that’s the problem! y/n is way too good!” AJ huffed, “since you’re old, that means your bad at video games.”

“ouch, AJ.. i’m wounded!” he held his chest in fake pain and y/n rolled their eyes playfully.

“you gonna let me reach you, or what?” y/n smiled at bucky who had pretended to ‘pass out’ from the ‘pain’ of being called old.

“i’m ready,” bucky nodded, sitting up.

“my bet is uncle buck is gonna suck at this,” AJ whispered.

“you’re forgetting uncle buck has super hearing,” bucky scoffed, “but you’re probably right, kid.”

“okay, so you get one daisy and at the end of the stem, but not too far down the stem and you pinch with your nails a slight gap aaaand then get another daisy and then put its stem through the hole and repeat the process!” y/n explained, but then looked over at bucky, who was struggling because of the fact one of his arms was metal and didn’t have nails and was accidentally crushing the flower, while he held it.

“i don’t think this is amputee friendly,” bucky joked, looking at the squashed flower.

“oh no, bucky, it’s okay, wait i’ll do the first step and you do the second?” y/n picked up a flower and pinched a gap in the small stem for bucky and handed him another daisy to slide through the hole.

“AJ! cass! come eat!” sarah called her boys over, who quickly ran over after saying a quick goodbye to y/n and bucky.

“and then there were two,” bucky smiled at y/n.

“you getting the hang of this?” y/n asked, smiling back at him.

“i think i am, it’s sort of difficult, since my arm isn’t really made for this sort of stuff, but it’s gettin’ easier.” bucky chuckled, showing his daisy chain to y/n. it was slightly messy and some of the flowers had been squashed slightly, but it was always the thought that counted more than the outcome.

“i guess i’ll just have to stick around you making sure you’re always able to make a flower crown!” y/n teased.

“i wouldn’t mind that, doll.” he smirked, briefly glancing at their eyes.

“i’d be like your carer,” y/n quipped, laughing at their own joke.

“very funny, y/n,” he pretended to be mad at them, but soon broke into laughter alongside them. bucky shook his head softly, he was in too deep. he knew he had fallen for them, but he had never expected to fall this hard for anyone in his life. especially after what he’d gone through with hydra.

but he was absolutely smitten.

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