#Telephone Conference | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jobean12-blog · 1 year ago

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The Fine Print

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (CEO!Bucky AU)

Word Count: 4,126

Summary: You've been working under Bucky for almost a year and he's always been a grumpy ass and even though when the lines get blurred you can't seem to stay away.

Author's Note: These new pics and all the new gym shots and vids and yum! Just being fed so well! I like the idea of a grumpy CEO who just wants you and he's mad about it. No excuse for being a dick but he's not really all bad. And anyway, I'd never tell him no...haha! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Thank you Daisy for the lovely divider @firefly-graphics😘

Warnings: Grumpy ass Bucky (he's a total ass sometimes but has moments of softness), sassy reader, lots of tension, flirting, curses, fingering, light dirty talk

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You’re late. Only twenty minutes but it’s long enough that your grumpy ass of a boss will have your head for it.

Grumpy…and an ass but entirely too gorgeous.

You pick up the pace, precariously balancing your files and bags and hoping you don’t faceplant on the newly shined floors.

Getting a flat tire on the highway this morning wasn’t on your long to-do list for today, but it still happened and now you’ll have to deal with a very cranky Mr. Barnes.

You round the corner and enter your office, ready to give your usual sunshine filled greeting.

“Good morning, Mr. Barnes!”

He’s standing at your desk, arms crossed over his broad chest and his eyes hard.

“Is it a good morning?” he asks, not bothering to move out of the way as you try to slip around him. “What time is it?”

You stop and meet his glare.

“I had some car trouble this morning. I got a flat on my way in.”

Your voice comes out steady and strong and relief floods through you. This was the first time you were late, and you were not going to be reprimanded.

“Trouble is quite the fitting word for what I’ve been dealing with in your absence.”

You glance up at him and his antagonizing stare, and blink away your surprise at his words.

“I would have thought you would at least ask me if I was ok Mr. Barnes,” you say sweetly and with a smile. “After all, how could I possibly manage to fix a flat tire all on my own.”

His jaw clenches tightly.

“Obviously you managed,” he counters. “And you look just fine.”

Beautiful blue eyes wander languidly down your body before making their slow perusal back up to study your face.

You try to school your features and when he raises an expectant brow you bite back with, “Thankfully I am fine, and I got help but I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with the burden of picking up a telephone and sending an e-mail all on your own this morning. It won’t happen again.”

He takes a step closer to you and you stop yourself from swaying forward to get a hint of his scent.

Traitorous body. If only the fucker wasn’t so fucking hot.

“You’re right. It won’t,” he replies with a smug smile. “And just so you don’t forget, I’d like to see…”

He spends the next minute rattling off several project pieces he’d like to see completed and on his desk by the end of the day.

“And then you can make up the half an hour you missed by getting together a mock presentation for our meeting tomorrow.”

When your nostrils flare, he smiles triumphantly and dips his head, so his warm breath caresses the shell of your ear.

“I’ll see you in the conference room at six.”

He turns away and slams his office door behind him and you let out an exasperated puff of air.

“It was only twenty minutes asshole.”

You mutter the words under your breath as you plop into your office chair and continue to curse his name in grumbles.

There’s a light knock on the door before it opens and you know you’re about to hear the voice of your friend and coworker, Jess.

“I know you’re working through lunch,” she says. “So at least let me get you something.”

You don’t look up but smile nonetheless, your fingers flying over the keyboard with ease.

“Honestly, I don’t even think I have time to eat,” you say before hitting the period button hard and meeting her eyes.

Jess gives you a sympathetic look. “I’ll grab you something nutritious.”

She waves before gently shutting the door. You lean over to check your desk drawer for snacks, the mention of lunch reminding you that you are in fact, hungry. At the same time that you see you have nothing to eat you notice a tear in your stockings.

“Son of a bitch,” you grumble. “I just bought these.”

Less than a minute later your door opens again and without looking up from your screen you whine, “do you know what, after the morning I’ve had I think I’ll take something sweet…maybe a cookie. Or twelve. Or chocolate of any kind.”

When you receive no acknowledgement, in return you glance up and see that Jess is not standing at your door.

You quickly tug the hem of your skirt down, noting how Bucky’s eyes track the movement and linger on your legs.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Barnes, I didn’t realize…”

“Since your morning has been so awful,” he starts, his sly smile growing, “why don’t you run down to the café and pick us both up some lunch.”

Your lips purse and once again his eyes seem glued to every action you take.

“Mr. Barnes, Jess has just come in and said she would grab me something to eat so I can continue working through lunch.”

When he doesn’t say anything, you continue.

“I have A LOT to get done.”

“I’m sure you’ll make it work,” he says before rattling off his lunch order.

He turns on his heel and takes two long strides back to his office, pulling the door closed hard behind him.

“What the f…?”

You don’t even finish the sentence when he opens the door again and pokes his head out.

“Make sure you get yourself something to eat. We’re going to be here late.”

The door slams shut again, and you abruptly stand, your rolling chair flying back into the wall as you storm off.

“Why does he care if I eat or not?” you ask yourself as you angrily stuff things into your bag and throw it over your shoulder.

The rest of the day goes by far too quickly and you find yourself cursing out the copy machine as you wait for the rest of your papers to go through. Checking your phone you see you’re already almost ten minutes late to your afterhours ‘meeting.’

You rush down the dim hall of the now empty building, your presentation materials clutched tightly to your chest and glance again at your phone.

Fifteen minutes. Shit.

As you near the conference room, you try to calm your breathing and slow to a walk. A soft light shines from under the door, and you know he’s in there waiting for you.

Taking a deep breath you knock.

“Come in.”

You walk into the large room, never failing to take in the view of the city that the floor to ceiling windows along one wall highlight.

At the head of the large dark wood conference table, sits Bucky. His suit jacket is hanging haphazardly over the back of his chair, his tie is loose around his neck, and the crisp white sleeves of his button down are rolled up to his elbows.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Barnes. The copy machine…”

Realizing you’ve been apologizing all day, and it has made no difference, you stop yourself and lift your chin, walking over to where he sits and placing down your papers, sorting through them as quickly as possible so you can begin.

“Have you eaten dinner?” he asks.

His question takes you completely by surprise and you meet his piercing blue eyes with a confused expression.

“I uh…I had lunch.”

“That doesn’t answer my question sweetheart.”

At his sugared endearment, your eyes widen, and your breath catches in your throat, but you regain your composure.

“No. I haven’t.”

He just nods and gestures to the papers, clearly waiting for you to get started.

You lean over the table, searching for the paper you need and in your disheveled state don’t realize your entire lower body is practically draped over him.

“I just need to find…”

The words catch in your throat when you feel his fingers softly touch your thigh, slowly inching higher to reveal the tear in your stocking. His fingertips trace the sheared fabric and press against your skin, igniting it with heat.

Every muscle in your body tenses, your heart pounds in your chest and your brain screams at you to push him away but you don’t dare move.

“Look at me,” he demands, pressing his fingertips harder into your skin.

You straighten and turn to face him, his hand sliding up and over the curve of your hip to settle on your waist.

“Mr. Barnes?” you ask, keeping your eyes trained on his.

“James. Call me James.”

The intensity of his stare makes your breath catch and when he doesn’t answer and instead continues letting his hand trace your curves you battle with your emotions.

“The next time you have car trouble,” and his hand slips under your skirt again, “you call me.”

“What? Why would I?”

His fingertips graze the lace top of your stocking before he lifts your skirt higher and drops his eyes between your legs.

“Because I said so,” he murmurs, teasing along your inner thigh.

Your hand falls to the table to steady yourself and you willingly spread your legs open when he gives them a slight push.

“That’s hardly a good reason,” you breathe out.

“Fuck,” he growls, and his eyes fall closed.

You glance down at his lap and see him straining against the expensive fabric of his pants.

He smooths two fingers along the line of your panties, lightly pressing against your swollen and sensitive clit. His eyes open and he looks furious, fisting the thin material in his hand and in one quick movement, tearing it off.

He pulls you down roughly onto his lap, your skirt riding up over your hips to accommodate the wide spread of your legs as you straddle him.

An involuntary moan slips past your parted lips when he grabs your ass and drags you down over his hard cock.

When he opens his mouth to speak you grab his tie between your fingers and use it to pull his mouth to yours. Every sweep of his lips is heaven, and you release his tie to rake your fingers through his hair.

He makes a low, angry noise deep in his throat and you trail your lips along his jaw, kissing your way down the strong column of his neck.

His hand slides from your ass and slips between your legs, his fingers brushing through the wetness just before there’s a knock on the door.

You both go completely still and wait. When a second knock sounds, he quietly curses and gently lifts you off his lap.

You quickly pull your skirt down and smooth your hands over your hips. He watches your every move as he runs a hand through his mussed hair and sits up in the chair, hiding his legs and erection under the table.

“What?” he growls, loud enough for whomever is on the other side to hear.

“Mr. Barnes, we’re scheduled to do maintenance in here tonight.”

He curses again and continues to stare at you.

“I’m just finishing a meeting. Give me five minutes.”

“Of course, Mr. Barnes,” the maintenance manager, says, “take your time.”

His chest rises and falls rapidly as he splays his hands out over the tabletop. Hastily he stands and tries to straighten his tie, his eyes landing on your ripped panties that lie on the floor.

He grabs them and rubs the silky fabric between his fingers.

“Make sure you eat something,” he says and then shrugs on his suit jacket, tucking your panties into the breast pocket.

You’re clutching the table and staring as he grabs his briefcase and starts toward the door.

“It’s late. I’m going to have security walk you to your car,” he states, finally meeting your eyes.

His groan is pained as his gaze travels down your body and then he disappears out the door.

You fall back into a chair and try to calm your breathing. You’d have to be out of here in a minute and you didn’t want to look suspicious. Seeing movement outside the door you begin gathering your things and stand on still shaky legs.

With a deep inhale you straighten your shoulders and walk out the door with a serene smile, greeting the head of security and thanking him for escorting you out.

What the fuck just happened?

The next morning you’re making your way into the office when he walks in. You do nothing more than greet him with a curt nod, giving him a wide berth of space as you make your way to your desk.

You can feel his eyes on you, the lick of heat traveling down your spine. You’re wearing your favorite dress and while it’s appropriate for the workspace it accentuates all the right spots, and you smile to yourself as you bend down to retrieve something from your desk drawer.

Regardless of what transpired last night you are not going to let it affect your work. You felt powerful and confident in this dress and Mr. Barnes can fuck off.

You peek over your shoulder to find him standing halfway in the doorway of his office and staring. You raise your brows and blink.

He clears his throat and mumbles a short “good morning,” then steps into his office and slams the door.

You roll your eyes and promise yourself he’ll be the last thing on your mind as you set out to get as much work done today as possible.

As lunch approaches you grab your bag and reach for your wallet. Your fingers close around a crumpled piece of paper, and you start to smile when you’re reminded of what it is.

You knock on his office door and saunter inside when he says, “come in.” The receipt hits his desk with a smack and without an explanation you turn and walk back out.

You almost make it to the first step in the stairwell when you hear footsteps approach behind you.

“Where the hell do you think you’re running off to?” he calls.

You continue walking and make it down one flight of steps before saying, “to get lunch.”

He meets you on the landing and clutches your elbow, spinning you around and pushing you against the wall.

Your eyes narrow contemptuously.

He whips the receipt out and in front of your face. “Want to explain this sweetheart?”

You let out a wry chuckle. “You know for such a smart guy you really are an ass sometimes. It’s a receipt.”

“I can see that,” he says through clenched teeth. “What I want to know is why you’re making purchases for…lingerie…on my company credit card.”

“Some jerk ripped up my favorite pair of panties last night.”

You shrug your shoulders and try to skirt past him.

His hand meets the wall next to your head, his fingers curling and crumpling the receipt and you can feel how tightly the muscles in his body are flexed when he presses closer.

He looks tormented for the split second before his lips crash down on yours and your treacherous body melts into the kiss.

His cock throbs against your stomach as he tries to hike your dress up over your thighs. Reluctantly he steps back, making enough space so he can slowly slide your dress higher, above your panties and look his fill.

“I like this pair even more than last nights,” he simpers.

His fingers hook into the lace at your hip, and you grab his shirt. “Don’t you dare Barnes.”

“You can buy as many new pairs as you want.”

He once again easily tears them from your hips.

Your lips part in shock but he swallows your sassy remark with his mouth. The roughness of his kiss is a sharp contrast to the way his fingers softly tease between your legs.

You need more but you’ll be damned if you’re going to beg him for it. As if he can read your inner thoughts, his eyes light up in triumph when he pulls away to meet your gaze.

“As much as I want to hear you beg me for it sweetheart, I already know how badly you want it. You’re soaked for me.”

“You’re such an ass…”

He slides a finger inside you and your combined groans echo in the empty stairwell, the insult dying on your lips.

His stare is intense as he dips his head to your ear, warm lips brushing ever so gently when he whispers, “say please and I’ll give you what you want.”

Instead, you nip at his jaw, stifling the moan of need that threatens to rise in your throat. He continues pumping one finger in and out, sweat beginning to bead on his brow and his teeth gritted.

You hiss out a curse that’s followed by a breathy “please.”

You’re expecting him to be smug but instead he slows his movements and languidly pushes a second finger inside you, clearly relishing the way your eyelids flutter closed and you clench around him.

“That’s it sweetheart. Show me how much you love it when I fuck you with my fingers.”

His words practically send you over the edge but it’s the press of his thumb to your clit that makes your legs start to shake and his name fall from your lips like a prayer.

When his head falls to your neck and he places soft kisses along your skin, traveling up to your ear to whisper, “come for me gorgeous,” you let go and dig your fingernails into his strong shoulders, finishing with a muffled cry.

He draws out your pleasure with the slow push and pull of his fingers before sliding them out and holding them between you, his skin glistening under the harsh fluorescent lights.

His fingers press to his lips, parting them as he licks them clean, clearly savoring every drop of your taste.

“I knew you’d be sweet,” he croons.

“James,” you whimper when your hands fall to his pants.

He grabs your wrist to stop you and pushes your hand away. With soft movements he fixes your dress, smoothing his hands along your curves.

“But…” you start, and he silences you with a kiss.

You’re breathless and your head is fuzzy by the time he pulls away and with a wink he steps back and says, “lunch is over. We have a meeting to attend.”

He turns on his heel and jogs back up the steps with ease. Your narrowed eyes follow him before you let out a frustrated huff and walk on wobbly legs in the same direction.

You had forgotten all about the meeting…the one you were supposed to go over the plans for the night before.

When you walk into the large conference room everyone is already seated and Bucky is of course at the head of the table. His eyes are trained on you as you walk to the front and place your things down near him.

The presentation you’re giving shouldn’t take more than ten minutes, but there’s a lot riding on it and after what just happened, you’re obviously feeling flustered.

You open your document and greet and address the room, doing everything in your power to keep your focus on where it belongs and not on him.

But when you pause your eyes lock with his and your ability to speak is momentarily stolen. His gaze is intense, the heat simmering there almost palpable.

With a clear of your throat you continue, fumbling slightly but thankfully recovering quick enough that no one seems to notice. No one but him.

His perfect lips raise in a lopsided grin, and he runs his tongue along the seam of his lips. It’s clear where his thoughts are, and you must tear your eyes away to unscramble your head. He’s obviously trying to fluster you and quickly your nerves are replaced with anger, and you use it to fuel the rest of your presentation, finishing it with ease.

You sit with a smile and lift your chin, challenging him with your eyes. He stares right back.

“Thank you,” he says, addressing you by your first name as he stands and commands the room. “That was an excellent presentation. Clearly, you were well prepared.”

You can’t tell if his words are mocking or meaningful and it sets you on edge. He moves around the room and answers any lingering questions before ending the meeting with a dismissive hand.

As people stand and gather their things, Bucky comes up behind you, pressing his chest close to your back as he leans in to pretend to grab something from the table.

“I wasn’t sure you were going to make it thought that” he chuckles.

To everyone else it appears he’s making a funny remark, but you can feel your skin heat at his proximity and taunting words.

“Ugh,” you say through gritted teeth. “You would have loved that wouldn’t you?”

You can feel your eyes fill with unshed tears, the emotions of the day finally catching up to you and when his gaze finds yours his expression morphs from haughty to soft in an instant.

It only sends you reeling again, the confusion flooding through you and before he can say more you gather your things and rush out the door. Unexpectedly, he’s hot on your heels all the way to the elevator.

There are several other people on it so when you stop at the next floor and more employees file in, you’re squeezed toward the back, pushed farther into him, your ass against his crotch.

He’s hard and you feel the rest of him stiffen with the sharp intake of his breath. You take a step away from him, as much as you can in the confined space, but he reaches forward and grips your hip to pull you back.

“Don’t move,” he whispers into your neck.

“I’m two seconds away from shoving my heel up your ass,” you seethe.

He leans even closer, keeping a firm grasp on your hip.

“You were deliberately trying to make me fuck that up!”

You turn your head to peer at him and his mouth falls open, brows furrowed.

“What?” he says.

“You heard me.”

When you reach the floor just before the top, everyone else exits the elevator and the doors close, leaving you both pressed together in the corner.

It starts to move again, and you jerk backward, falling against him as he leans into the wall.

His sudden growl startles you and then he slams his hand into the stop button on the control panel.

His body cages you against the wall and his breathing is harsh.

“I would never want you to fuck anything up,” he exhales. “It’s impossible for me to think about anything but you…how good you taste, and I haven’t even gotten my mouth on you.”

You hide your surprise at his confession.

“Yet.” He adds in a promised whisper.

“This is my career at stake Mr. Barnes. You’re the one with all the power here. What do you have to lose?”

“Me? All the power?” He laughs dryly. “You’re the one who does this to me…the only one.”

You feel him throb against your stomach and you can see the truth in his eyes.

“Then don’t be such a dick all the time.”

You mean the words to come out harsh but instead they’re a quiet whisper and your expression softens.

It’s all he needs before his lips crash to yours and he slides his hands down to your ass, squeezing his way to the hem of your dress.

“I had to sit there and watch you present, the whole fucking time knowing you had nothing on under here.”

His touch is delicate as he spreads your legs and slides a finger through your folds, already wet and aching.

“I was sitting there hard as a rock just thinking about bending you over that table, tasting you, fucking you.”

Your fingers close around his biceps, the soft fabric of his suit jacket bulging under the strained muscles.

“Is that what you want?” he asks as his fingers continue to tease you.

“Yes,” you answer as you grab hold of his tie and bring his lips closer.

He kisses you, never touching you where you need it most and when he pulls away, he presses the elevator button, causing it to start moving again.

He removes his fingers and reaches up to straighten his tie and when the doors open, he backs out, his voice low and deep when he says, “I need to see you in my office. Immediately.”

He turns and glides from the elevator, his long strides carrying him quickly toward his office and you can’t do anything but follow.

@blackwidownat2814 @hiddles-rose @kmc1989 @goldylions @lizette50

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #ceo!bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #ceo au

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orellazalonia · 1 month ago

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Escape Room Chaos

Summary: You take Steve and Bucky to an escape room for a fun, relaxing evening, but things quickly spiral into chaos. Both somehow ignore the obvious clues in favor of dramatic theories and property damage. You’re just trying to survive until you can successfully escape without a lawsuit. (Steve Rogers x reader x Bucky Barnes)

Word Count: 1.6k+

Main Masterlist

You really should’ve known better.

The moment Bucky rolled up his sleeves and said “This’ll be easy,” you felt the first ripple of doom. You’d booked the escape room as a fun, harmless activity. Something like a little post-mission team bonding that didn’t involve hand-to-hand combat or collapsing buildings. You even picked a cheesy detective theme, thinking they’d enjoy something grounded and puzzle-y. Maybe even quiet.

You were wrong.

The three of you stood in the lobby of “The Great Escape,” surrounded by plastic magnifying glasses, dusty fedoras, and a suspiciously chipper staff member in suspenders and a fake mustache. She gave you the usual speech: 60 minutes to escape, no real danger, don’t break the props, yada yada.

Steve nodded solemnly like he was being briefed before an intense mission. Bucky? He crossed his arms and smirked. You could already tell his competitive switch had flipped.

The room itself was dimly lit and lined with fake wood panels. A ticking clock glowed red above the door while there were clues scattered everywhere ranging from files, books, old telephones, and even a fake fireplace. As soon as the door clicked shut behind you, Steve took a deep breath like he was about to deliver a speech at a press conference.

“We should split up to cover more ground. Look for patterns, numbers, keys. And be sure to keep a level head.”

You blinked. “It’s not a hostage situation, Cap.”

But Steve was already kneeling to inspect a lockbox with the intensity of a man deciphering enemy codes. Meanwhile, Bucky was tapping along the walls with the knuckles of his metal hand.

“Could be a hidden panel,” He muttered.

“Could be drywall,” You replied, dragging your palm down your face.

Ten minutes in, you had two clues solved and one increasingly serious argument about whether the bookshelf was a red herring or not. Bucky was now trying to climb it.

“James Buchanan Barnes, get down before you collapse the whole set!” You hissed.

He looked down, half-smirking. “It’s not real, doll. Look.” He gave it a little shove, just enough for it to creak ominously. You glared.

Steve, across the room, had located a cipher wheel and was mumbling to himself. “It’s gotta be a Caesar shift. Or maybe Morse code…”

“Steve, it’s literally a riddle that says ‘Look in the desk drawer,’” You pointed out, pulling it open and revealing a key taped inside.

He looked genuinely offended. “They’re dumbing it down.”

You exhaled through your nose. “Yes, they’re dumbing it down for people who aren’t 100-year-old super soldiers who do escape rooms like they’re battle strategy.”

By minute twenty, you were regretting everything. Steve had taken charge like a squad commander and Bucky had declared himself the “wildcard” of the team, which essentially meant “loose cannon with a metal arm and no patience.”

You were the only one actually reading the instructions on the wall.

By minute thirty, you’d reached the room’s second stage which was a secret chamber revealed when Bucky yanked on a wall sconce you definitely weren’t supposed to touch.

You all froze when the wall creaked and groaned like a bad horror movie. Then, with the slow drama of a B-grade haunted house, the panel slid open.

Steve actually clapped, cheering.

“I knew there was a hidden passage!”

“No, you didn’t,” You said, stepping cautiously inside. “You were still trying to decode that cipher wheel that said, ‘The butler did it.’”

The new room was darker with a desk, some faux-blood splatter, and a very questionable plastic skeleton slumped over a chair. Its skull was tilted sideways with a bowler hat perched on top of its head. There was also a magnifying glass clutched in one bony hand, and a suspicious envelope glued to its chest with “CLUE #6” scrawled across it in marker.

Steve stared at it. “I think we’re meant to… talk to him?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Interrogate the corpse.”

You opened your mouth to say something, then thought better of it. You just took out your phone and started recording. For science… and for future blackmail.

Steve crouched beside the skeleton, folding his hands like he was addressing a witness. “We’re here to help. If you can tell us who killed you, we’ll bring them to justice.”

You bit your lip so hard trying not to laugh, you swore you tasted blood.

Bucky leaned over the desk and yanked the envelope from the skeleton’s chest.

Steve’s jaw tightened. “You’re contaminating the scene.”

“It’s a twenty dollar prop, Steve. I don’t think it’s going to trial.”

Then Bucky poked the skeleton’s head, making it fall off and clatter dramatically to the floor.

Everyone stared at it. Steve looked personally offended.

You raised an eyebrow. “Did you just decapitate our only lead?”

“It… it was barely hanging on anyway,” Bucky muttered, setting the skull back with exaggerated care. “These things happen.”

Steve knelt beside the fallen plastic remains, eyes full of regret. “He served his purpose. We thank him for his sacrifice.”

You threw your hands in the air. “It’s a skeleton, not a fallen comrade!”

The intercom crackled. “Hey guys,” The perky staff member’s voice rang out, “Just a reminder: Please don’t disassemble the props. Sir with the metal arm? Yes, you. Please don’t interrogate the decor.”

Bucky gave a small chuckle. Steve immediately stood at attention. “Sorry, ma’am.”

You looked between your two supersoldier boyfriends and the half-decapitated skeleton, then turned toward the camera in the corner and gave it a deadpan stare. “I just wanted a nice evening. That’s all. Just puzzles and maybe a little fun but no. Instead I get a dramatized cold case and two very intense golden retrievers with trauma.”

“Hey,” Bucky said with a shrug. “You’re the one who invited us.”

You squinted at him. “…You know what? That one’s on me.”

By minute forty-five, you were starting to suspect the real puzzle wasn’t the escape room. It was figuring out how you were going to survive this without needing a drink afterward. Bucky had taken it upon himself to test “structural weaknesses” in the fake brick walls. His version of “testing” was punching one lightly. With his metal arm.

The wall cracked and the room went silent.

From the intercom: “Please do not damage the set. Also, we are not responsible for injuries caused by over enthusiastic participation. Thank you!”

You turned on him like a storm. “What happened to ‘this’ll be easy’?”

“It is easy. The wall just looked suspicious,” Bucky replied, wiping fake cobwebs from his sleeve like a man with no regrets.

“It’s foam!” You yelled. “It’s suspicious because it’s clearly styrofoam!”

Steve, meanwhile, had discovered a locked chest with an old rotary phone on top. He was pacing in front of it like he was expecting it to ring with instructions from headquarters.

“I think it’s a code,” He murmured. “We dial something, and it opens. Maybe if we spell out a word using the numbers-”

“Steve,” You interrupted, pinching the bridge of your nose, “The clue literally says: ‘Dial 911 to unlock the final key.’ That’s not a code. That’s just instructions.”

Steve blinked. “Oh.”

He dialed 911 on the dusty phone. The chest popped open with a ding and a dramatic puff of dry ice that startled all three of you.

Inside was a black keycard and a note that said “Final door: 5 minutes remain.”

Bucky snatched the keycard. “Let’s finish this thing. I’ve got a hot date with a milkshake and a nap.”

Steve furrowed his brow. “We should think this carefully and plan. There could be traps in the last room.”

You looked between them and snorted. “What, like the staff’s gonna throw in a booby trap just to spice it up?”

“…They could,” Steve muttered. “It’d be unexpected, that’s good design.”

You made a mental note to ban both of them from anything resembling a mystery game for the rest of your natural life.

Then came The Moment.

You all stepped into the final room that was all dark with eerie music playing from a hidden speaker, and a blinking red countdown above the last door. Dramatic fog rolled out across the floor.

There was a button on the wall.

Just a red, glowing button with a sign above it that said:

“EMERGENCY ESCAPE – DO NOT PRESS UNLESS YOU GIVE UP.”

You hadn’t even opened your mouth to say “don’t” before Bucky pressed it. The room lights blared on and the music stopped. The countdown froze at 00:03 as you all stood in stunned silence.

The intercom crackled again.

“…So, you technically escaped, but also forfeited. That’s… a first.”

Bucky blinked. “What? It said emergency. I figured it’d blow something up. Or, like… open a trapdoor. Something dramatic.”

Steve looked personally betrayed. “We were three seconds away from winning with full completion.”

“You were still looking for tripwires,” You snapped. “I was reading the last clue. He just wanted to blow something up!”

Bucky looked sheepish. “You can’t give me a glowing red button and not expect me to press it. That’s on them.”

You stared at the ceiling like it might offer you divine intervention. “I invited two enhanced soldiers into a puzzle-themed children’s attraction. This is my fault. I accept that.”

As the final door clicked open and the staff came in to escort you out, one of them gave you a pitying smile.

“Hey,” She said brightly, “At least no one tried to climb into the air vents this time!”

You blinked. “Wait. That’s an option?”

Steve immediately looked intrigued.

You grabbed both their arms. “Nope. Out now. I’m buying you both ice cream so you don’t break anything else.”

#stucky x reader #stucky fic #stucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers #marvel fic #marvel x reader

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hxzbinwrites · 1 year ago

Note

Idk if you do headcanons or one shots but either or will be fine:

Can I pretty please get a Vox x Emotionless! Reader?

Plot can be whatever you want but just to (hopefully) give some ideas… maybe Vox had no interest in Reader but then uh oh she smiled! Now Vox has a crush (°▽°)

But yeah lol thank you!! Have a good day!

Vox x Emotionless! Reader | Lovestruck Fool |

Warnings ⚠️: Cussing, Vox is a horrible boss

10:00am

(Y/n) walked into Vox’s office, holding an folder with today’s date and Vox’s name on it.

“Mr. Vox.” She said, her dead eyes watching her boss turn around in his excessively large chair.

“Hm, what is it (Y/n)?” He said, giving her a single glance before turning back to his monitors

“You have three meetings today sir. 1:00pm with Velvette in her portion of the tower. 2:30pm with Valentino in the main conference room, and someone scheduled a 4:00 with you, a Mr. Alastor? Called in today for an urgent meeting.”

Vox slammed his hands down on the desk, his face glitching in seething anger. “THAT PRICK!! CALL BACK AND TELL HIM I WILL NOT BE ATTENDING ANY SORT OF MEETING WITH HIM!!”

“He called from a public telephone sir, I can’t trace the caller ID.” (Y/n) said, clearly unfazed by his temper tantrum.

“DAMN IT!” He said, punching a smaller monitor on his right,”DONT YOU EVER LET HIM SCHEDULE ANOTHER MEETING WITH ME OR VOXTECH EVER AGAIN!!!”

Vox turned around, pointing one of his clawed fingers in your deadpanned face.

“Okay sir, is that all?”

“UGH!!” He said, clenching his fists to his side,”WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?? IM AN OVERLORD, I AM THE VOX, YOU SHOULD BE QUIVERING IN FEAR!! IM YELLING MY HEAD OFF AT YOU AND YOU CANT EVEN FORM AN EXPRESSION?? ARE YOU BRAINDEAD??”

(Y/n) slowly blinks, before looking down and rummaging through the folder she still held. “Ah, I almost forgot. Mr. Alastor requested his meeting also in the main conference room. If you need another reminder about your meetings today just call me-“

She was cut off once more by Vox, screaming and yelling, throwing things hazardously across the room. “JUST LEAVE.”

“Alright sir.” (Y/n) said, immediately turning away and walking towards the door.

————

4:45pm

(Y/n) was at her desk, taking calls and rearranging Vox’s schedule for tomorrow when her work phone buzzed.

“Hello? This is (Y/n) with Voxtech. How may I-“

“(Y/n). My office. Now.”

“Sir? This isn’t your work phone number? How can I be sure that this is-“

“MY OFFICE. NOW.”

(Y/n) could hear his voice glitching over the phone before she hung up, and briskly made her way to the door of his office.

She walked in to his Vox in his obnoxiously large chair, his hands covering his screen as he sighed in exhaustion.

“Ah, sir. You called me?”

“Yes (Y/n). I have installed safety features into your desk. Don’t except meetings from Alastor. If he comes in here, press the button under your monitor. He is NEVER allowed in this building.”

“Okay sir.” She said, making a note of that on her smartwatch,”Will that be all?”

“Can you get me a coffee…?”

“Right away sir.”

————

5:00pm

“Here’s your coffee sir.” (Y/n) said, setting it in his outreached hand.

“Thank you (Y/n)” He said, taking a single sip before doing a spit take. On one of the monitors around the city, it showed Velvette and Alastor chatting to one another.

“WHAT?!?” Vox yelled, being as “careful” as he usually is, his coffee flies into the air before landing on his shirt. He hissed in pain at the hit liquid, scrambling around before tripping on the various wires around his monitor setup (that was replaced after his previous temper tantrum) and landing on his ass.

Vox looked up in shock to see (Y/n) covering half of her mouth, revealing a smile. Tears brimmed her eyes as she tried to respectfully hold in her laughter.

Vox’s face felt red hot. Out of embarrassment and admiration. Why didn’t she smile more? Oh that smile, if she could remove her hand it would reveal its full glory. Let him soak it in. Her eyes filled with life and laughter. Has she always been this….beautiful? Yes, I think she has. She has indeed.

She let out a little snort before regaining her composure, before crouching down in front of him, taking the napkins provided with the coffee, and starting to wipe off as much of the liquid as possible. He felt her delicate hands rub across his chest. He hope she didn’t feel his erratic heartbeat.

He wanted this. He’s yearned for this and he didn’t even know it. Vox’s breathing became as erratic as his heartbeat, almost in sync. He felt sweat starting to drip, wether it be from the hot coffee adorning his now ruined shirt or from the stunning woman and her hands on his chest.

Trying to get as much as she could, (Y/n) scooted even closer, not realizing her hips were hovering right over his. Vox’s mind was running wild, his screen glitching and flicking between different error signals. His hands floating near the handles of her hips. Taking a gulp, he almost put his hands on her skin. Almost. He ended up just leaving his hands there, leaving a ghostly stabilization to the assistant who was cleaning him up like a toddler who spilt his apple juice.

(Y/n) looked up at Vox’s eyes, their eyes locking onto one another. A small smile could be faintly seen across her lips before it went back to its neutral state.

She helped him to his feet, her soft hands gently pulling on his clawed ones, slowly helping him to his feet. Handing him the remaining napkins. “I’ll schedule a trip to the dry cleaners. Does 3:45 tomorrow work well for you?”

Vox sat back down, his eyes wide in shock from what just happened. “Yeah, sure, whatever. I don’t care.”

“Alright sir, I’ll get that done, and then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay…”

(Y/n) walked out, the door closing behind her. Leaving the room back in it’s inky black darkness, with the exception of the glowing monitors.

Vox looked at his reflection in the main monitor. He could see his goofy smile. His blush adorning his cheeks. His eyes lighting up like a child who knows no sin. He looked like what he was, a lovestruck fool. A lovestruck fool for his assistant.

————

Word Count: 1006

(sorry it’s so short, i’m trying to get as many requests done as i can 😭)

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911fandomresearch · 10 days ago

Text

PARTICIPATE IN ACADEMIC RESEARCH ON THE 911 FANDOM!

Hello everyone!

My name is Renee, and I am a professor at PSU currently working on an academic project about the 9-1-1 fandom across its history.

Project

If you are eighteen years old, in the US (university policy), and willing, consider taking this survey about your 9-1-1 fandom experiences.

The survey is divided into six categories: a review of the project, demographic information, your history in the fandom, views of representation and shipping, and reactions to Bobby’s death. Finally, I offer a space to leave additional comments.

You are not required to answer all questions and can skip sections if you prefer. All data will be anonymous.

The survey can take anywhere from 10 minutes to an hour if you want to offer detailed commentary on your beliefs.

Goals for the Project

A public infographic analyzing fandom responses across different social media platforms, noting common trends and differences. For example, were Twitter users more likely to stop watching before Season 9 compared to Reddit users? Who was angriest about Bobby?

Two major research projects in a presentation at Fan Studies Network North America and an academic journal article, preferably in an open-access journal like Transformative Works and Culture

Finally a bit about me: I have a PhD in Rhetoric and Writing, using my training to examine popular culture, i.e. language choices, rhetorical moves, etc. I am on the Fan Studies Network North America organizing committee, which runs one of the largest fan studies conferences in the world, and have won awards for writing about fandom. Finally, this show means a great deal to me, as does the fandom, and I strive to represent all your voices fairly and accurately.

Please reach out to me for questions. And, if willing, share widely across social media!

Final Note: While questions may be hyper-focused on certain characters/ships due to show events, I hope anyone who enjoys the show/fandom will complete the survey and enjoy seeing the 'academic' side.

#eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie #buck x eddie

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necro-om-nom-nomicon · 7 months ago

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If anyone's curious, this is the text of the Shelliac Treaty seen in "The Ensigns of Command".

ALL REQUESTS FOR CHANGES IN THE TEXT OF PROVISION (B) MUST BE SUBMITTED IN WRITING OR BY A TERRIBLY COMPLEX SUBSPACE [AS] LONG AS IT IS ENCRYPTED AND UNREADABLE, AS WELL AS GARBLED AND CONFUSED, SO AS TO CONFORM TO THE PROVISION (A.294 A-C) OF THE INCOMPREHENSIBLE ACTS OF WIDDERSHINS. FEDERATION DOCUMENT LOCATOR NUMBER 7847308340 (SECTION 876234). ALL OF THIS SIMPLY TO GET THE TEXT ALONG TO SUBPARAGRAPH 832. WHICH IS QUITE A WAYS DOWN THE PAGE. YOU MIGHT THINK THAT THIS IS INCREDIBLY CLEVER STUFF. BOY ARE YOU WRONG.

SECTION 87654 RICK IS FINALLY GETTING A KEI AND YURI REFERENCE INTO THE TEXT. YOU KNOW, THE TWO CUTE GIRLS WITH THE BIG GUNS. WE MIGHT ALSO MENTION AKIRA, RANMA NIBUNNOICHI, URUSEI YATSURA, RHEA GALL FORCE, AND A FEW OTHER ANIMATED FILMS. THE FEDERATION AT THIS POINT IN TIME SEEMS MORE TANGLED UP IN PAPERWORK THAN THE IRAN-CONTRA SCANDAL BUSINESS.

SECTION 74543 IN THE TEXT OF THE TREATY, OR DIDN'T ANYONE THINK ABOUT THAT EVENTUALITY WHEN THE BLOODY DOCUMENT WAS FIRST DRAWN UP? NEVER MIND. IT'S A RHETORICAL QUESTION ANYWAY. BUT WE JUST THOUGHT WE'D TRY TO DEMONSTRATE OUR LEGALISTIC CLEVERNESS. JUST ONE MORE UNTIL THE CRITICAL ONE, WHERE WE TALK ABOUT CONSULTATIONS AND THAT SORT OF THING.

SECTION 33406 WE CAN DO SEARCH-AND-REPLACE. COME TO THINK ABOUT IT, THAT'S WHAT THE SHELLAC WANT TO DO WITH THE COLONY ON THE PLANET. THIS SECTION DEALS WITH THE RIGHT OF EACH PARTY TO CONFER WITH THE OTHER IN THE EVENT SOMETHING SCREWY HAPPENS WITH THE TREATY. THIS MAY TAKE THE FORM OF NORMAL EM SPECTRUM COMMUNICATION, SUBSPACE EM COMMUNICATION, FACE-TO-FACE MEETINGS, TELEPHONE TAG, MESSAGES IN BOTTLES OR ANY OTHER WATER-TIGHT FORM OF ENCLOSURE, GOSSIP, HALF-TRUTHS, OUTRIGHT LIES, OR FACE-TO-FACE MEETINGS. INTERRUPTION OF TREATY COMPLIANCE SHALL NOT EXCEED ONE (1.00 X 10E0) STANDARD UFP SOLAR YEAR (EXCEPT DURING THE MONTH OF JULY). SEE TECHNICAL TA48589.1742A-C(58945) FOR CODE INPUTS. LCARS UPDATES ON TREATY COMPLIANCE INTERRUPTIONS SHALL TAKE PLACE AT EACH STARBASE LAYOVER, OR WHEN COMMANDED BY RANKING UFP (OR OTHER DESIGNATED BODY) OFFICIALS AT STARFLEET HEADQUARTERS, 24-593 FEDERATION DRIVE, SAN FRANCISCO, CA, EARTH, SOL SECTOR. REQUEST FOR ASSISTANCE MAY BE PLACED BY TRANSMISSION TO STANDARD STARFLEET BOOSTER STATION FOR CHANNELING TO UFP TREATY OFFICE (SOL SECTOR).

SECTION 74543 ACCEPTABLE IF APPROPRIATE NOTIFICATION IS GIVEN TO FEDERATION BUREAU OF TREATIES (SOL SECTOR). SEE TA 98745.234EE-E FOR SCHEDULE OF CODES AND TEMPORAL ADJUSTMENT FACTORS. THIRD PARTY AGREEMENTS. THIRD PARTY ASSISTANCE MAY BE REQUESTED FROM A FEDERATION IF THE DISTANCE FROM THE VESSEL TO SOL SECTOR IS GREATER THAN 5,000 LIGHTYEARS, UFP STANDARDS MEASUREMENT BUREAU UNITS. ASSISTANCE MAY ALSO BE REQUESTED IF THE VESSEL IS LESS THAN 1,000 LIGHTYEARS OF A STANDARD UFP SUBSPACE RELAY BOOSTER STATION. AND THAT'S THE WAY IT IS.

#star trek #star trek tng #star trek the next generation #star trek next gen #the ensigns of command

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cerises-ameres · 6 months ago

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vocabulaire dans le bureau

(m.) bureau - office, desk

(v.) travailler - to work

(v.) faire un stage - to intern

(m.) travail - work, job

(m.) boulot - work, job (informal)

(m.) employé, (f.) employée - employee

(m.) patron, (f.) patronne - boss

(m.) directeur, (f.) directrice - manager, supervisor

(f.) stagiaire - intern

(m.) président-directeur général / PDG - chief executive officer / CEO

(f.) collègue - coworker

(m.) fondateur, (f.) fondatrice - founder

(f.) grève - strike

(v.) employer - to employ

(v.) être à l'heure - to be on time

(v.) être en retard - to be late

(m.) box - cubicle

(f.) salle de repos, salle de pause, salle du personnel - break room, staff room

(f.) réunion, conférence - meeting, conference

(f.) salle de réunion, salle de conférence - meeting room, conference room

(m.) espace de travail - workspace

(v.) faire une pause - to take a break

(f.) pause déjeuner, pause de midi - lunch break

(f.) tâche - task

(f.) date limite, (m.) dernier délai, (f.) échéance - deadline

(v.) finir - to finish

(v.) commencer - to begin

(v.) organiser - to organize

(v.) préparer - to prepare

(v.) se concentrer - to concentrate

(v.) collaborer - to collaborate

(m.) téléphone - telephone

(m.) ordinateur - computer

(m.) clavier - keyboard

(f.) souris - mouse

(m.) écran - screen

(f.) imprimante - printer

(m.) photocopier, (f.) photocopieuse - copying machine

(v.) appeler, téléphoner - to call

(v.) télécharger - to download

(v.) chercher - to search

(v.) taper - to type

(v.) cliquer - to click (with a mouse)

(v.) imprimer - to print

(v.) photocopier - to copy (with machine)

(m.) stylo - pen

(m.) crayon - pencil

(m.) surligneur - highlighter

(m.) ruban adhésif - tape

(m.) trombone - paperclip

(m.) dossier, (m.) fichier - file

(m.) papier - paper

(m.) classeur, (f.) chemise - folder

(m.) classeur [à tiriors] - filing cabinet

(f.) agrafeuse - stapler

(v.) écrire - to write

(v.) surligner, souligner - to highlight

(v.) scotcher - to tape

(v.) ranger, classer - to file, to classify

(v.) agrafer - to staple

#had to sneak grève in there #lmk if u have anything to add #langblr #language learning #french #french language #foreign languages #frenchblr #french langblr #french learning #study french #français

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strawbeerossi · 2 years ago

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Telephone

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: You and Spencer miss each other whenever he is on a week long case. A phone call should help fix that.

Content/Warnings: Mutual masturbation, phone sex, course language. Let me know if I missed anything

Word Count: 1.3K

Kinktober Day Fifteen: Telephonicophilia

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

Dating a man who could be gone for weeks at a time could be frustrating. Especially on nights like tonight where you were desperate.

You’d decided on picking up a new erotic novel later on that evening after work, a glass of wine beside you on your nightstand while your eyes relished in the smut in your hands. Normally, things like this wouldn’t affect you.. However, Spencer had been gone for a week already, so you had been reduced to a state of touch deprived that you know Spencer would have fun dealing with.

Now a week isn’t a long time to go without sex for some people but you and Spencer have been a different breed lately, sex happening a lot more frequently than you’d care to admit. The girls at work teased you, saying you came in every shift with a post sex glow. The sad part was, you couldn’t even argue.

This week was tough, the stress of your life weighing heavy on you while you were struggling to keep yourself afloat. Talking to Spencer helped, it did. However the normal stress reliever you turned to was out of your reach.

As you’d kept your attention on the text in your hand, you could feel arousal pooling at a particular scene you were stuck on. You missed Spencer..

Unbeknownst to you, he missed you just as much. The impending stress on the case was suffocating him, the unsub knowing what he was doing and able to cover his tracks easily. A week of overanalyzing to the point his big, beautiful brain hurt, he needed a break. “Emily, I just got a message from my mom’s facility, I need to give them a call. Do you mind if I step out?” It was easy for Spencer to lie through his teeth, the unit chief looking at him with a face of concern. “That’s fine, that’s fine. Keep me updated.” She instructed, which made the brunette nod before he was heading out of the conference room. “Is there an open room that I can use? Urgent phone call.” He was holding up his phone to the police chief, who nodded as he led the male to an empty office.

As soon as the door was shut, Spencer was locking it and tugging down the blinds of the window looking in the office before scrolling through his contacts. As soon as he got to you, he took in a breath as he was calling, heading over to sit on the edge of the desk.

“Spencer!” Your voice cheered from the other side, causing a smile to spread across his face. “Hey! I just needed to hear your voice. There’s no sign of this case ending anytime soon..” He frowned, even if you couldn’t see him. “You guys will catch this guy. You always do.” You cooed softly while letting your hand lift the wine glass to sip from it. “I’m glad you called, honestly.. I miss you.”

“I miss you too.. What are you wearing tonight, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Your lip was tucked between your teeth while sitting up a bit straighter. “I’m wearing your Cal-Tech sweater and underwear. You know I steal your clothes to sleep.” It was a given on what attire you were adorned to sleep in.

“I love when you wear my clothes.. God, I miss you. What are you doing? Reading that book, I bet.” He spoke while chuckling softly. “Mind taking a break from your reading? I need you right now.”

The way his voice dropped to a low tone had your pussy clenching around nothing. He needed you so bad he was calling while in the middle of a case. “I don’t mind.”

“Good. Leave the sweatshirt on but get rid of your panties.” He spoke, leaning back against the desk as he could feel his cock hardening at the visual playing through his mind. Thank god for eidetic memory. It was like he could see you right now.

“I’m so wet that it’s uncomfortable.” You whined, finger running through your slit to collect your slick on the digit while brushing against your clit with a shaky breath.

“I bet.. My poor girl.” He sighed, already working on his belt to get it yanked from his pant loops before tossing it beside him on the desk, hand already pulling his throbbing cock from his pants. “I wish I could be there right now, have you squirming underneath me.” He spoke while letting out a low groan as his hand was wrapping around his hard cock, slowly tugging at his dick.

The idea of being between her legs right now was heaven, however his job just had to get in the way. “Why don’t you toy with that pretty little clit of yours, hmm? Wanna hear you moan for me. Show me how much you miss me.”

Your finger swiped over your throbbing clit, the nub sending electricity through your bones as you let your head tilt back with a moan. “It doesn’t feel as good when I have to do it.” You said softly, soft breaths leaving your lips as you massage the bundle of nerves between your legs.

“I know. You’d be pushing back on my fingers by now, crying and desperate for more.” He smirked, his hand speeding up along his cock. Due to the precum bubbling over his swollen tip, he had plenty of lube to easily glide his hand along his shaft.

“Go ahead and push a finger into that sweet, leaking pussy. I bet you’re soaked just from hearing my voice.” His words were like honey, you drinking it up as you complied with the demand, sinking your pointer finger into your tight cunt. The squelching sound of your greedy pussy sucking in as much of your finger as it could get had you tossing your head back as you let out a moan, your other hand holding the phone clutching the electronic tightly.

“You sound so beautiful. God, I can’t wait to get home,” Spencer was whimpering out, the boyish sounds making him sound more innocent than he truly was. “My hand doesn’t even compare to that tight cunt. I bet she is desperate for me,” He grunted as his pace sped up.

“Add another finger, I know that you’re desperate for more.” His words were husky as he let his head tilt back while a few needy whines fell from his lips.

This phone call was what both of you desperately needed, hearing each other to fuel the fantasies flooding both of your brains. This was a time when you wished you could stomach working at the FBI just to always be close to Spencer.

“I’m gonna cum.” You warned, fingers curling and brushing barely against the spongy button inside of you that you just couldn’t reach by yourself. “Fuck. Cum on those fingers, baby. Wanna hear you.” He panted, feeling a bead of sweat running down the back of his neck as his hand moved quickly, his cock twitching in his grasp. Hearing you cry his name in orgasmic bliss was what pushed Spencer over the edge, his cum glazing over his knuckles as he let out a whimper of your name.

There was a brief silence shared between you both as you two caught your breath.

“Please come home soon..” You finally whispered, pushing yourself to sit up in your shared bed so you could stand and go wash your hands in the bathroom.

“I’m gonna catch this guy today, trust me. I love and miss you.” His voice was soft, the both of you sharing your goodbyes, you were both hanging up.

Distance was hard.

The way Spencer fucked you whenever he did end up getting home later the next night was harder.

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