#Connect 4

[jubiblu]

I just know Erza would kick his ass after he gave 110%, trust me I was the connect 4

Reverse Image Search says the first/original known poster of this base is lunaticspear here on tumblr. I am SO SORRY if that's wrong, I tried. 💀

Edit: Y'ALL I FORGOT TO PUT THE ORIGINAL IMAGE I'M AN IDIOT

It has been added

[ponku-po]

worked hard bug mom - ja0822ck

happy mothers day

[late-to-the-party-81]

The sweetest dessert

AN: I’m back on my subby Bucky bs, so have this little appetiser to meet one of the squares on my June-iverse card.

Not beta’d, so there’s no-one to blame except me.

Likes are loved, reblogs are golden.

Mood board by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

Join my tag list here

Master list | Into an Alternate June-iverse Master List | BaBB Masterlist

Summary: There is more than one perk to having a personal chef, especially one as sweet and eager to please as James.

Relationship: CEO Reader x Private Chef Bucky

Word Count: 1.5k

CW: Chef AU, Soft Dark (ish) Reader, Power Imbalance, Employer/Employee relationship, Subby Bucky, Soft Dom Reader, Sub Space, Praise Kink, Oral sex (F receiving), Coming untouched, Lack of aftercare, Implied future sexy times.

You smiled to yourself as the door closed behind your last guest. Your dinner party had been a roaring success and you were thrilled. As the CEO for a large tech firm, one of the ways of wooing clients and securing new investment was still the good old ‘schmooze’ - inviting select people to dine with you in your home. And it wasn’t as though it was that much stress for you - preparing these sorts of things was what you paid people to do. 

Making your way towards the kitchens, you took your time to pass on your thanks and praise to your housekeeper and butler. As you reached the swinging door that separated the kitchens from the rest of your house you paused, stretching out your neck and rolling your shoulders back, before pushing it open. Striding into the room you very rarely used yourself, you let your eyes rove over the form of your private chef, James, as he wiped down the work tops.

James was the epitome of tall, dark and handsome. His chestnut hair, which had a tendency to curl when it got too warm, was tied up in a loose bun at the nape of his neck, although a few tendrils had sprung free and floated around his face. They drew attention to his high cheekbones and defined jaw, and you pulled your lower lip between your teeth. He hadn’t realised you were there yet, so you hadn’t caught a glimpse of his icy blue eyes, but you already had the exact shade of them seared into your memory. As he threw the wet cleaning cloth into the sink and grabbed a towel to dry the counter top off, you watched the muscles of his arms bunch under his black tee-shirt. He was so fucking beautiful it almost hurt to look at him.

As you took a step forward, the heels of your stilettos clicked against the tiled floor and James looked up at you. As you smiled at him, you saw the telltale blush making its way up his neck and onto his cheeks, sending a rush of power through you. No-one would think on first glance that this prime specimen of manhood was a sweet, shy bean with a praise kink the size of Manhattan, but you knew better. Boy, did you know better.

James stepped back from the counter, body turned toward you, towel still in hand, but with his head and eyes downcast. “Ma’am,” he said with a small nod. You slid between him and the counter, elegantly hoisting yourself up onto it, so you could look him without craning your neck.

“I’ve come to congratulate you, James. That meal was absolutely wonderful. I think you outdid yourself this time.” That did the trick. At your kind words, he lifted his head and properly looked at you, his lips turned up in a sweet smile.

“You really liked it?” he asked. “The lemon syllabub was a new recipe I’ve been working on. I wanted it to be perfect.”

You reached out your hand and tucked one of the loose locks of hair behind his ear, before cupping his cheek. There was a dusting of stubble over his face and the anticipation of the friction it would provide had you pressing your thighs together.

“It was perfect,” you confirmed. “Like always. You’re always perfect, James.” You could see his eyes starting to lose focus as you spoke and you lowered your voice. “Always doing your best to please me.” His eyelids fluttered, his lashes kissing his cheeks and a soft moan escaped his lips. It was time to up the ante. “Do you think you deserve something special from me for all your hard work? What would you like?”

“I… I…” His cheeks turned an even brighter pink as he stuttered.

You leaned forward, your lips a hair’s breadth from his. “You can tell me, James. You’ve been so good. You deserve a treat. What about your own desert? Would you like that, maybe?”

Instead of a response he let out another moan, a noise that went straight to your cunt, and then dropped to his knees on the hard tiled floor. However, as thrilling as his submission was, you needed consent from him. You placed your heeled foot on his shoulder, stopping him from leaning forward. “Words, James. Do you want this?”

He looked up at you pleadingly. “Yes. Please. I need you.”

You smirked affectionately at him and removed your foot. “Then dig in, baby, and don’t waste a single morsel.”

With your confirmation, he let himself go. Dropping the towel, James’ hand landed on your legs, running up them, over the silkiness of your stockings. He dropped soft kisses on the side of each of your knees as he pushed your skirt higher and higher up your body. You wriggled on the counter top to aid him, until the fabric was bunched up above your hips. His kisses continued up your legs until they met the tops of your stockings, where your garter belt framed your barely covered pussy. He drew back slightly, gazing at your core and what you were certain was a damp stain evidencing your own desire for him. His tongue peeked out from between his lips.

“C-can I?” He seemed so innocent and naive in moments like this.

“Of course you can, James,” you cooed as you spread your legs even wider.

James shuffled his broad body closer, manoeuvring your calves over his shoulders and taking hold of the underside of your thighs in a gentle grip. Then, without any further warning, his face pressed against you, his lips and tongue sucking and licking at you through your panties.

You let your body lean back and your hands gripped the edge of the counter as a deep, salacious noise left your throat - a noise that seemed to spur your sweet and submissive lover on. His tongue swirled around your covered clit and your panties were soaked with a mix of your own arousal and his saliva.

“James…” His name left your lips on a moan and with a deft movement he lifted one of his hands to pull your lacy thong to the side, his tongue immediately pushing inside of you. Another guttural moan left you and one of your hands flew from the edge of the counter to thread into his hair, pulling strands loose from its bun. His mouth carried out its sweet torture on your cunt and you couldn’t control the roll of your hips, fucking yourself up against his face.

Your mouth spilled more praise for him, and he hummed his pleasure into you, the sounds vibrating through you, making you even more frenzied. “Right there,” you cried, feeling your orgasm build in the pit of your stomach. “Just like that, James. You’re gonna make me come!” The pleasure washed through you, your cunt gushing as it spasmed and you could hear the lewd slurping as James lapped up every drop of your spend. 

As the trembles in your body lessened, your perfect lover retreated from your cunt, kissing his way back down your legs, smoothing your clothes back into place. He sat back on his heels, looking up at you pink-cheeked and glossy-eyed, his face damp and his hair a mess. You sucked air into your lungs, the sight of him so erotic you almost thought you were going to come again just by looking at him. Speaking of which…

“Lift your apron, James.” When he let out a whimper you had to tamp down your smile, knowing what you were going to see. “None of that,” you chastised. “Be the good boy I know you can be. Show me.”

He turned his head to the side, his shy embarrassment sending another thrill through you, but he did what you’d asked, slowly lifting up the white cotton fabric that covered his torso. There, at the apex of his thighs, the outline of his cock was visible against the black fabric of his chef’s trousers. However, in the bright overhead lights, you could see a glisten of moisture. Hopping down from the counter, you crouched in front of him, your breath hot on his cheek as he continued to look away from you. Your fingers gently caressed the tented fabric, feeling the sticky wetness of it. As you drew them away, you turned James’ head with your other hand, making him look at you, as you sucked your damp fingers into your mouth.

“Delicious. Perfect as normal, sweetheart. You’ve made me very happy.” 

You stood swiftly and took a few steps towards the kitchen door before stopping and looking over your shoulder. James was still kneeling on the floor, looking totally fucked out.

“You ought to go home soon. You’ve got an early start in the morning. I’ve got a lot of plans  for tomorrow and they start with breakfast in bed.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he slurred with a small nod. “Breakfast in bed. Got it.”

“Good boy,” you purred, already looking forward to the morning.

Bingo and Challenge fills: Juniverse - Chef AU | May Babb - Praise Kink @buckybarnesevents

Tag list: @christywrites, @alexakeyloveloki, @wolfsmom1, @doasyoudesireandlive, @sonatabee-blog, @goldylions, @galactusdevourerofworlds, @apenny4thots, @crayongirl-linz, @nicoline1998enilocin, @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989, @kombatfather1796

[blackwood4stucky]

hoping these roses dull the pain, cover the scars and turn the page

author: aspen blackwood

james “bucky” barnes x steve rogers | mcu

masterpost | 🅴 | 🔞 | word count: 3,360 | complete

tags: alpha x alpha, drugged, forced sex, non con body bod, non traditional omegaverse, triggered mating, secondary gender modification, dark elements

"A peculiar scent fills Steve’s nose as he wakes slowly. He knows that scent, it is one that still haunts him, that whispers his failures in his ears like prayers." - There were turncoats on the Lemurian Star.

bingo fills + event prompts

ch. 1: hoping these roses dull the pain, cover the scars and turn the page

@anyfandomangstbingo | barely conscious

@anyfandomdarkbingo | fuck or die

@anyfandomgoesbingo | possessive alpha

@anyfandomkinkbingo | handcuffs

@badthingshappenbingo | mutilation

@buckybarnesevents

alpha bucky april | breeding kink + purring + double minimum requirement babb 2023 | failed mission [april prompt] babb 2023 [babb060] | held down connect 4 [c4013] | c1: sex slave

@catws-anniversary | theme: bucky barnes - metal arm

@deaddovekink

frisky february | drugged sex monsterfcking march | shapeshifting: transforming during sex

@eclipsingbingo | trail of blood

@fandom-free-bingo: valentine’s edition | aphrodisiac, bound

@hurtcember | forced

@julybreakbingo: post-july | sex pollen

@kinky-things-happen | transformation

@marvel-smash-bingo | forced orgasm

@mcukinkbingo: open round | torture

@multifandom-flash

omegaverse | forced mating round 2 [1028] | free space

scalding hot: consent issues bingo | non con body mod: extra fuck holes

@sebastianstanbingo | sex slave

@stuckybingo [5080] | kink: breeding

@stuckygeekevents: stucky geek bingo | captivity, kidnapped

@yearoftheotpevent | april: canon divergence

read: ao3 | ffn | sqwa

mini playlist

[haveyouplayedthisirlgame-poll]

Connect 4 is a two-player game played with checkers on a vertical board. Players drop checkers of their colour into the board, aiming to form a row of their own colour while preventing their opponent from doing the same.

[digitalfossils]

[rancidgoo]

instagram@iced.fappucino

[thatgurlbey]

Playing Connect 4 with Alison Hammond ‘09

[emilija04acer]

Game for your soul (part 3 of Niffty Distribution System)

>I'm trying something new! I'll just put the whole short fic here. Some people like to read it here.

Here is the link for AO3>

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54040492

Alastor learns the reason you shouldn't play games other than cards or chess when trying to get someone's eternal soul. You may get attached...

Or you know lose!

Here are some tags> Alastor & Niffty (Hazbin Hotel)

Characters:

Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)

Niffty (Hazbin Hotel)

Additional Tags:

Game

Soul deal

Niffty is a Gremlin

Alastor Tries to Be a Jerk

Niffty Deserves Love

Manipulative Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)

Alastor Has a Heart (Hazbin Hotel)

Cute Niffty (Hazbin Hotel)

Dialogue Heavy

Fluff and Crack

Fluff

No connect 4 didn't exists in the 50s

It's from the 70s

that's the main reason this is crack

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰ Soul-taking and deal-making were always entertaining for Alastor, the Radio Demon. He loved getting demons' souls by challenging them to something they thought they were good at, only to watch them struggle and inevitably fail. He didn't care what the game was, as long as he had the upper hand. A drinking game, a poker game, a dice game. Luck games were no safer than skill games. He always found a way to win.

Getting overlords' souls was the most enjoyable, their screams filled the dead air of his broadcasts. He relished watching those powerful beings lose their chess matches, their dignity, and their lives. He would sometimes broadcast the game itself, for the amusement of his listeners and the humiliation of his opponents.

But when he met Niffty a week ago in that alley, he didn't know what he was in for. She was a mystery and an enigma. He got to know her somewhat, over the course of a few days. She wasn't the brightest, but she was energetic and engaging. She was amazing at cleaning, cooking, and pest killing. She was incredibly fast and agile.

He had mistaken her for a child when they first met, and he still had to remind himself that she was indeed an adult. He had seen small demons before, of course, he had. But maybe it was her demeanor that seemed childish and somewhat innocent. However, that was far from the truth, and he knew it.

He decided to challenge her to a game for her soul. He weighed his options. He enjoyed her company, she was respectful and insane. Tied in a small energetic package. She would be a great asset to have, a loyal servant to call for small tasks. Even better, she seemed eager to spend time with him. Willing service would be a nice change.

Alastor invited her to join him for dinner at his mansion. This was the second time he had done so. He made jambalaya, her favorite dish. It was the best thing she had ever eaten that a man had made for her. She had asked him to make it again, and he had obliged. He knew it was to her taste.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

After their dinner, he finally popped the question he had anticipated the whole evening.

"Would you like to play a game, my dear?"

"A game? Sure! I love games!"

"Wait, before you make up your mind. It's a game with high stakes."

"Oh? Wait. You mean for a soul?"

"Indeed. Are you still interested?"

She thought for a single moment. "I accept! But first, what do I get if I win?"

He highly doubted she would win, but he knew a deal was a two-way street. Both parties had to get something. Usually, he made a contract after the game, but he decided to state the terms verbally. Words, when deals were in question, were not cheap. You could spin them, of course, but he didn't feel the need to do that now. She was more than willing to play.

"If you win, you can get anything you want. We'll write the contract after. Are you ready?"

She nodded excitedly.

With a clap of his hands, Alastor conjured a table and two chairs. He hoped she would choose a game of strategy, like chess or checkers, or a game of chance, like cards or dice. He was confident he could beat her in any of those.

He let her pick the game. He wanted to give her a fair chance.

She looked at the table and saw a variety of games. She picked one and held it up.

"Let's play this one," she said, her eyes sparkling.

Alastor looked at the game. It was a plastic board with holes and slots. It came with a bunch of red and yellow discs.

"Connect Four?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I like this game. It's fun."

Alastor shrugged. He had never played it before, but it looked simple enough. He agreed to play.

They sat down and set up the board. Alastor let her go first. She dropped a yellow disc into the middle slot.

He followed with a red disc in the same column. She dropped another yellow disc on top of his. He did the same.

They continued like this, alternating turns and filling up the board. Alastor soon realized that the game was not as easy as it looked. He had to pay attention to the patterns and the possibilities. He had to block her moves and plan his own.

He started to sweat. He felt a pang of anxiety. He was not used to losing. He was not used to being challenged.

He looked at the board. It was almost full. He saw that she had three yellow discs in a row, and only one slot left to complete a four-in-a-row. He had to stop her.

He scanned the board for an opening. He saw one. He dropped a red disc into the slot, blocking her.

He smiled. He had done it. He had saved himself.

He looked at her. She was smiling too.

She dropped a yellow disc into another slot.

She said one word.

"Connect."

He looked at the board. He saw that she had made a diagonal four-in-a-row, using the disc he had just placed.

He had lost.

He felt a surge of shock, anger, and disbelief. He had lost his game.

He screamed internally.

Niffty giggled. She knew she could ask anything from him. He had said it just a minute ago.

She could ask for money or power or whatever her little heart desired.

She could ask for his soul. Not that he could give it to her. His soul didn't belong to him.

"What do you want?" he asked, defeated.

"Give me a paper, sir, please!"

He obliged, summoning a paper and a quill. Writing it down was smart, he admitted. He couldn't twist his words, even if he wanted to.

She held the large feather in her tiny hands and carefully wrote. She was focused, more focused than Alastor had ever seen her.

"I'm done! Here, read it!" She handed the parchment to him with a smile.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Alastor took the parchment and read it. He expected to see a list of demands, such as money, power, or fame. But what he saw was something else entirely.

It was a contract of friendship.

It said that he had to be her friend, and never get tired of her. He had to invite her to help him with his schemes and let her have fun with him. He had to make jambalaya for her at least once a month and share his stories and jokes with her. He had to protect her from harm and comfort her when she was sad. He had to respect her wishes, and never betray her.

He was baffled by this. He had never seen such a contract before. He had never made such a contract before. He had never agreed to such terms before.

He looked at her. She was smiling, her face beaming with anticipation.

He felt a strange sensation in his chest. He didn't know what it was, but it wasn't unpleasant. It was warm and fuzzy, like a radio static.

He smiled back. He reached for the quill. He signed his name on the bottom.

(This is supposed to be crackfic but I honestly wouldn't be surprised if this turns out to be somewhat true)

Plot twist Niffty is the one that owns his soul.

Anyways! I hope you enjoyed this!

This was just a short fic I joked about with my friends and actually wrote it.

[teriyakiaqi]

[brian4rmthe6]

[king-k-ripple]

Board Game Slander

When you play Candy Land and are about to win, but then you draw the plum / gingerbread man card:

The stress/pressure when playing Operation:

Rango fans when they discover the board game Rattlesnake Jake:

Everyone when you spell a bad word in Scrabble:

Trouble fans explaining how their favorite game is in no way similar to Sorry:

That feeling when you’re about to screw over your opponent in Connect 4:

My opponent waiting for me to make a move in Chess:

Teddy Taft and Wilson on their way to remove all houses and hotels on the Monopoly board game:

How it feels to lose in Jenga:

[late-to-the-party-81]

The best laid plans

AN: It’s so fluffy!!!! This is my first fill for this year’s ‘Into an alternate Juni-verse” and when I got Surgeon AU on my card I knew I had to revisit this pairing from last year's event…You don’t need to read it to understand this fic, but it will give you more context.

A big thanks to @metalbvcky for spitballing and cheerleading

Beta’d by the wonderful @drabbles-mc

Likes are loved, reblogs are golden

Mood board by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

Bingo Fills - 

@stuckybingo G3: Migraines

@steverogersbingo D2: Monica Rambeau

Build a Bucky Bingo by @buckybarnesevents: Feb: Forehead kisses

Into an Alternate Juni-verse by @buckybarnesevents : AU: Surgeon

@caplanbuckybarnes Weekly Writing Challenge Week 1; “Holding you like this is where I’m happiest.”

Master list | Alternate Juni-verse Master list | Stucky Bingo Master List | SRB Master list | BaBB Master List

Summary: With Steve’s hectic work schedule, their relationship was never going to be plain-sailing, but they have an uninterrupted 48 hours coming up. Surely nothing will go wrong?

Relationship: Small Doctor Steve Rogers x Bookstore Owner Bucky Barnes

Word count: 3.8k

CW: Modern AU, Fluff, Insinuation of spicy time, Bucky and Nat friendship, Teasing, descriptions of migraine, caring Bucky, Hurt/Comfort, suggestive and happy ending, implied bottom Bucky.

Steve was well aware of how his life was currently a study in contrasts. On the one hand there was the hustle and bustle and bright lights of the hospital and on the other, the cosy warmth of the bookshop where Bucky worked and Steve spent a lot of his off hours. There was the inherent stress involved in working in the ER, with the requirement he always be ‘switched on’, but then there was the gentle pace that life with Bucky forced him into.

Bucky.

He couldn’t believe how much his life had changed since those two chance encounters nine months ago, one in a bar and the other right here in the ER.

Steve hadn’t been looking for anything, heart still raw from a break-up that had seen him upsticks and relocate from Los Angeles to New York, but something about Bucky had gotten under his guard. After their unexpected reunion in the hospital following a very memorable one-night stand, Steve had known there was no way he could go on without the young bookstore owner in his life.

They were taking it one step at a time though. Steve’s job was obviously full-on, especially so as he’d decided to continue working towards becoming a surgeon, something he’d done most of the work for out in California. Between his ER shifts, and the work for his qualification, both practical and theoretical, they sometimes went days without seeing each other and Steve didn’t want to force Bucky into something he wasn’t able to cope with - there was a reason why a large number of people in the medical field struggled to maintain relationships.

Therefore he maintained his apartment, and Bucky still had his own over his shop. Admittedly that warm, lived-in space, as small and covered in white cat fur as it was, felt more like home to Steve than his larger, pristine loft that still looked like something out of a brochure. Also, Bucky’s place was a lot closer to the hospital than his. It made sense, really, to spend most of his time there. He kept thinking about ‘taking the next step’, but something was stopping him.

Steve let out a sigh. He hadn’t seen Bucky in a full 48 hours now, and there was still another six to go until he could leave.

Today was an observation day, where Steve would be watching his mentor while she performed a heart by-pass and she would ask him questions as she did so. He was excited for it, but even that couldn’t dull the ache within him which he knew would only be soothed by a Bucky-hug ™.

He watched Doctor Rambeau - Monica - scrub up, dexterously turning off the tap with her elbow, and then waited for her to move out of the space so he could do the same. He might not be performing the operation, but he still had to follow all the protocols. He knew what an honour this was, having her as his mentor. She was one of the best in her field, and under her tutelage he knew he would be able to make a difference to so many people. With his own history of health issues, he knew what it was like to have his life saved and was ready to pay it forwards. 

“You ready, Doctor Rogers?” He turned to see one perfectly shaped eyebrow rise at him from behind an eye-shield.

“Absolutely. Lead on, Doctor Rambeau.” He knew his smile was hidden behind his mask, but hopefully she would hear it in his voice and see it in the crinkles around his eyes. He suspected not much got past her. The junior doctors were always making remarks about how Doctor Rambeau could see things that other mere mortals couldn’t.

“Soooo,” Nat drawled out and Bucky got ready for another round of being teased. “You’re seeing him tonight?”

“Yes,” replied Bucky. “He’s coming over after his observation shift and then he’s off for the next two days. Don’t expect to see much of me outside of work hours.” He waggled his eyebrows at his best friend and grinned as she rolled her eyes in return.

“Don’t I know it. If it wasn’t for his shifts I doubt I’d see you at all.” Despite her words, Bucky could hear the joking affection in her voice. However, what was the point in being best friends if you didn’t wind each other up at every available opportunity?

“You’re one to talk? How are you and Doctor Wilson going? I know he knows his way around….” Bucky’s dig at Sam’s field of specialisation was cut off by Nat placing her finger over his lips.

“Shush, you. We’re going just fine. Keeping it casual. He’s busy. I’m busy. Who wants to put labels on things?”

Bucky’s lips twitched. “Whatever you say, Natty-Nat-Nat. I believe you, thousands wouldn’t.”

She stuck her tongue out at him and then grabbed another armful of books to reshelve. “So apart from fucking, what have you got planned?”

Bucky shrugged. “Not a lot. Depends on how wiped out he is. Dinner tonight - I’m making lasagne - and a film. Probably far too much wine. Tomorrow? Maybe the Brooklyn Museum, and lunch. I know he wants me to test him on some theory, so I need to limber up my tongue so I can say complicated words I don’t understand.”

“Please don’t tell me how you’re going to limber it up,” Nat said with a snort, and Bucky squashed down the urge to throw a book at her. He knew from his own painful experience what it felt like to have a hardback, or several, bounce off his face. The only upside of that situation had been that he’d seen Steve again and gotten his number, even if it had been mortifying at the time.

“Things are still going well, then?” Nat questioned more softly.

“Absolutely.” Bucky let out a sigh as he thought about his diminutive blond boyfriend. Even before their eyes had met across the bar he’d been intrigued. There had been something in Steve’s movements, the way his fingers had held - near caressed - his beer bottle, that had filled Bucky with want.

That feeling hadn’t waned over the past months, and while he inevitably got frustrated when Steve’s shifts kept them apart, he also had an inkling that the periods of separation were also what had kept them in the ‘honeymoon’ phase so long. It heightened the anticipation, and when they did get to spend time together? Well it was a good thing that Bucky had no neighbours and Steve’s apartment had thick walls.

Bucky had always had voracious… appetites… but had been more than pleasantly surprised when Steve proved that he could, most of the time at least, keep up with him. He also hadn’t thought that such an outwardly respectable doctor could be so kinky, but….

“Earth to Barnes!” Nat snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Stop thinking about Steve’s dick on work time.” 

He pouted at her. “Spoilsport. And anyway, it wasn’t his dick I was thinking about, it was his fing–”

Nat threw her hands up over her ears. “LA-LA-LA,” she shouted before walking back towards the front desk and the customers who had just walked through the door. Bucky giggled and continued to restack books while indulging in his daydreams.

Steve slowly pushed the surgical gown down his arms with a sigh and winced at the bright lights in the scrub room. He hadn’t even been doing any of the heavy lifting during that op, but he still felt absolutely wrung out. However, it had been the most wonderful experience, getting to see Monica performing the by-pass so assuredly and asking her questions as she did so. He was also proud of the fact that he’d been able to answer her questions too, although those had been more inquisitorial than plain curious like his. But it was the end of his shift now - more or less on time too, for a change - and he couldn’t wait to get to Bucky’s apartment and relax in the arms of his boyfriend for two whole days.

He washed up and said good-bye to Monica and the rest of the surgical team and headed towards the staff room and the locker containing his street clothes, keys, and wallet - he hadn’t spent this much time in scrubs since medical school. As he made his way along the white walled corridors, the sounds of a hospital at work swirled around him - the beeping of machines, pained cries of the young and old, the urgent, hushed conversations of other medical professionals, the weeping of family members and loved ones. He liked to think that he was partially immune to these noises - they were the soundtrack to his daily life after all, but for some reason, they felt rawer than usual, scraping across his bones like nails down a chalkboard, and Steve couldn’t hold back an involuntary shudder. The fluorescent lights in the ceiling appeared to be taunting him too, their beams piercing his eyeballs and the almost inaudible humming making his teeth itch.

“Bucky,” he muttered to himself. “I just need to get home to Bucky, then I’ll feel better.”

When Steve finally made his way outside the sky was dark, but the streets were lit up with street lamps and car headlights. Each shaft of light felt like a needle sliding into his brain via his temples and he took a deep breath in through his nose to stave off a wave of dizziness. 

There was a light drizzle in the air, making it blessedly cool, and despite the damp Steve decided to walk to Bucky’s apartment instead of schlepping it on the much dryer, but ultimately more cramped and warm, subway. It took him longer than anticipated though, his shoes feeling like lead weights upon his feet, getting heavier and heavier with every step.

Finally, he reached the bookstore, the interior shrouded in darkness, but with lights shining from the windows above. Steve walked, half staggered, down the alley at the side and let himself in through the door that would lead him up the stairs and to Bucky. He was glad that Bucky had given him a key a few months back, otherwise he would have had to wait in the rain while Bucky came downstairs to let him in. That had happened enough times at the beginning that Steve was now very much over that part of their relationship. Having keys felt good. What didn’t feel good though were his sodden socks, or his throbbing eyeballs.

He trudged up the stairs, each step harder than the last, until he reached the top and all but fell through the interior door. Bucky must have heard him because Steve’s name was called out joyfully, a sound that normally made his heart leap in his chest, but in this moment, all he could do was let out a pained whimper as Bucky’s voice cut through his brain like a chainsaw.

He heard Bucky’s footsteps get closer and he squinted against the brightness of the room.

“Hey, Stevie!”

Bucky pulled him into a rough hug, squishing Steve’s face against the ubiquitous black t-shirt he always seemed to wear on days he was working. The smell of Bucky’s cologne, normally one of his favourite scents, assailed his nose, combining with the smell of garlic that permeated the apartment and Steve felt his stomach roll.

“Buck… please,” he slurred as he uncharacteristically pushed himself away from his boyfriend’s embrace. Everything around him just felt like too much and he felt himself tip backwards against the wall.

“Oh, Steve. You don’t look too hot.” Bucky’s voice was full of concern, and Steve was sure that if he could manage to focus properly, he’d be able to see Bucky’s dark brows pulled together in a frown. 

“Jeez, thanks,” he managed to push out with a small upturn to his lips. “Just what I wanted to hear after not seeing you for two days.” He closed his eyes, intending to do so for just a moment, and felt the ringing pain in his head lessen minutely.

Bucky’s body brushed against him as his holdall was taken from him by gentle hands and his coat was slipped from his shoulders.

“Is it a migraine?” Bucky had modulated his voice to a whisper and Steve decided that he hadn’t ever been so glad for anything in his life.

Eyes still closed, he nodded and let out a noise of confirmation from his lips. “Mmm-hmm.”

“Okay. Let’s get you to bed then. I’m prescribing Advil, earplugs, an eye-mask and an early night.”

Steve snorted and instantly regretted it. “I thought I was the doctor here?” he quipped, his voice low and gravelly.

“You are,” Bucky replied, his lips brushing Steve’s temple. “But I’m the boyfriend, so what I say, goes.”

“Is that so?” Steve queried, a note of amusement in his voice.

“Very much so,” Bucky confirmed. “Now you keep your eyes closed if you want, I’ll guide you.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but still kept his lids closed. He had a feeling it was the only reason he wasn’t throwing up right now.

“Such a mother hen,” he chastised without any real bite and allowed Bucky to steer him, arms looped together, through the small apartment. A soft bump against his ankle let him know that Alpine was now part of the proceedings.

“It’s why you love me. Right, you just sit down here…” Steve felt his shoulders clasped by Bucky’s hands and he sat down, completely trusting that he wouldn’t fall on his ass. “Can you manage to get undressed while I go find the pills?”

Steve cracked one eye open. “Sure. I love you, you know that?” Bucky shot him a soft smile, pressed another kiss to his forehead and then went through to the small bathroom, rattling around inside the cupboards.

Steve kicked off his shoes, glad he had on loafers that came off easily, and struggled out of his shirt. It felt like an octopus trying to envelope and suffocate him. He flopped down onto the mattress and squeezed his eyes shut again, feeling the bile begin to rise in his throat. Not only did this suck, big time, but he also felt so guilty, a feeling he vocalised when he felt the bed dip on Bucky’s return.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I know that this wasn’t what we had planned. What were you making for dinner?” He felt Bucky’s hands on the waistband of his slacks, deftly pulling them from his body in the most un-lust-filled, and therefore strangest, way possible.

“Lasagne, but it will keep until tomorrow. And you don’t need to apologise. These things happen and you have been working really hard. I’m actually surprised you didn’t have one of these sooner.”

Steve shuffled under the coverlet, letting out a sigh at the coolness of the sheets against his skin. Bucky pressed two tablets into his hand, and he propped himself upon his other elbow so he could pop them in his mouth, swallowing them down with a drink from the glass of water Bucky proffered him.

“I’ll make it up to you, Buck. I promise.”

“I know you will, you lug. But for now here’s the eye mask.” Soft satin was placed over his head, settling over his eyes and helping to black out the last of the light making it through his eyelids. “And here are the ear plugs.” Bucky dropped them into Steve’s palm and curled his fingers shut over them. “Now don’t worry about me,” he placated. “I have a whole garlic bread and a salad to make my way through, plus a date at Stars Hollow with Lorelai. I’ll be fine. We’ll pick this up tomorrow if you’re feeling better, and if you’re not I’ll just pump you full of drugs until you are.”

Steve smiled into the darkness. “You know that’s not how that works?”

Bucky placed his finger over Steve’s lips. “Ssh, sexy Doctor Boyfriend has spoken. Sleep now.” He moved his finger and replaced it with his lips, kissing Steve softly.

“Sir, yes Sir,” Steve replied, bringing his hand up in salute.

“Punk. Sleep well. I’ll come cuddle you later.”

“I will, jerk. And thank you.”

He heard Bucky mumble under his breath and then pad across the room before he pushed the earplugs into his ears, cocooning himself in silence to go along with the darkness, and snuggled down into the sheets to pass out.

Bucky closed the bedroom door with a soft ‘click’ and padded back through to the living room, trying to quell the disappointment. It wasn’t Steve’s fault. It wasn’t anybody’s fault. Migraines happened, and he hadn’t been lying when he’d said it was a surprise that Steve hadn’t had one already - he really had been pushing himself to the limit. But, Bucky supposed, that was one of the things that made him love Steve. His tenaciousness, bordering on stubbornness, was endearing, and was probably one of the main reasons they were still together. He wasn’t going to lie - those early days had been tough, but Steve had found every spare moment he could and made it available to Bucky, whether that was hanging out at the bookshop during the day in the middle of a split shift, or rolling into the apartment just to curl up beside him in bed for the eight hours between the end of a late shift and the start of an early one. There were the surprise DoorDash deliveries when a shift had run over and dinner plans had had to be cancelled and Steve knew Bucky wouldn’t have anything in. There were the long nights of loving and the frantic, heated quickies and everything in between. And he couldn’t be prouder of what Steve was achieving right now. Once he’d passed his surgeon’s qualification things should get better for them - less double shifts, although probably more that would run over. Swings and roundabouts he supposed.

Crossing to the small kitchenette, Bucky pulled out the lasagne, watching the cheese and white sauce bubble on the top as he placed it on a trivet to cool. He was glad he’d cooked something that wouldn’t spoil from not being eaten right now. He then picked up the bowl of salad, and the garlic bread that had been keeping warm in the toaster oven, and meandered over to the couch. As he ate and watched the residents of Star Hollow navigate complex family relationships, Bucky realised that even though he was in this room and Steve was asleep in the bedroom, he didn’t feel alone. He could feel Steve’s presence in his home and it just felt so right.

A couple of hours later he snuck quietly into the bedroom, the only sound the soft snores emanating from Steve’s mouth. He brushed his teeth in the bathroom, careful to only turn the light on after he’d entered and turn it off before he exited, and then tip-toed over to the bed with only the light from the street outside to illuminate his way.  He slipped in behind Steve and gently tugged him into a hug. Steve mumbled in his sleep, but didn’t wake.

Bucky reached up to lightly stroke over the top of Steve’s head and pressed a kiss to his bony shoulder blade.

“I love you, Stevie,” he whispered. “Holding you like this is where I’m happiest.”

Maybe tomorrow would be the day he took a leap of faith and asked Steve to move in with him?

When Steve woke he felt entirely disorientated. It took him a moment to remember what had happened the night before, and when he pulled out the earplugs and lifted the eye-mask he was happy to note that the stabbing pain in his head had reduced to a dull throb. He blinked a few times to get the sleep from his eyes and then focused on the clock next to the bed. 

12:37pm

He’d been asleep for almost eighteen hours!

The bed beside him was cold, indicating that even his slug-abed boyfriend had gotten bored with sleeping at some point and decided to get up. He had vague recollections of being pulled against Bucky’s front in the night, but that was it. He frowned to himself - he’d gone far too long without consciously touching him, something that he needed to rectify immediately.

He pushed himself upright, and took a long drink from the water glass next to the clock. He still remembered the first time he’d woken up in this bed, in the middle of the night and getting ready to make a hasty exit after an alcohol fueled hook-up. Now he didn’t think there was anywhere he’d rather be than right here. 

From the end of the bed, Alpine lifted her head and narrowly opened her eyes, obviously not happy to be disturbed from her slumber. Steve reached out and scratched her under her chin in apology.

When he stood, it was on slightly wobbly legs, and he took a moment to grab a pair of sweats from Bucky’s drawer, taking care to pull the drawstring tight and roll the waistband over. Steve then walked quietly through to the living room, stopping to lean on the back of the sofa as he watched an oblivious Bucky, also only in sweats, singing along to the radio, a spatula in hand acting like a microphone, as he made a grilled cheese sandwich. It was the cutest thing Steve thought he’d ever seen and it just made him want Bucky more.

Steve padded closer, and when he reached out to touch Bucky’s shoulder, Bucky jumped with a shriek.

“Jeez, Steve. You scared me.”

Steve grinned at him and looped his arms around Bucky’s waist, drawing him closer and nuzzling at his neck.

“I’m sorry, baby. Maybe I can make it up to you?”

Bucky let out an amused chuckle. “So you owe me twice, that’s what I’m hearing. You feeling better then?”

Steve fastened his mouth to Bucky’s throat and gave it a suck, creating a dark pink patch on Bucky’s already flushed skin. “Absolutely. Although I can think of something else that will make me feel even better.”

“I bet you can,” replied Bucky with another giggle. “Do I have enough time to eat my grilled cheese, or…” he trailed off as Steve pushed his hand under Bucky’s waistband. “Oh! L-let me just turn this off…” Steve smiled into Bucky’s skin as he leant across to turn the stove dial and move his pan onto a cold ring. “Okay - you were saying?”

God, how Steve loved this man. The hand he had down Bucky’s sweats and shorts moved - encompassed -  and Steve watched as Bucky’s eyelids fluttered, his dark lashes fanning his cheeks, and how his mouth dropped open into an “O” shape. First he was going to do what he hadn’t been able to last night and then he was definitely going to ask Bucky if they could move in together.

Tag list: @christywrites, @alexakeyloveloki, @doasyoudesireandlive, @galactusdevourerofworlds, @crayongirl-linz, @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989

[blackwood4stucky]

the husband and the steed | aspen blackwood

series: the call of darkness

james “bucky” barnes x steve rogers | mcu

🆃 | word count: 1978 | complete

tags: alternate universe, bucky centric, pre-stucky, shifter

"Captain, the blond beauty that caught his attention weeks ago when the races first began for the season." — Bucky goes to place his bet at the Hickory Raceway.

bingo fills + event prompts

@anyfandomaubingo | 1960s au

@anyfandomgoesbingo | horseback riding

@anyfandomkinkbingo | secret relationship

@avengersbingo | secret romance 

@buckybarnesevents

babb2023 | possessiveness [may prompt] connect 4 [c4013] | siren

@character-a-character-b: may bingo | free space

creatures & cryptids: into the wilds flash

small town au + shifter + secret romance

@fandom-free-bingo

valentine’s edition | are you obsessed with me? wild edition | teasing

@julybreakbingo: pre july | small town au

@multifandom-flash: may | free space

@stuckybingo [5080] | train

@ultimatechrisbingo | estranged marriage

@yearoftheotpevent | october: identity shenanigans

read: ao3 | sqwa

[ignite-the-stars]

I don't get cooperative board games, they do nothing for me.

I don't want to work together with my friends or family members, I want to crush them into the dust and assert my superiority.

In a way that has clear cut rules, I don't have to talk about my emotions and no one gets hurt.