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zepskies · 3 months

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Headcanon: Wearing His Clothes

Pairings: Dean Winchester x F. Reader, Beau Arlen x F. Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

AN: I haven't done one of these in a while! This one was requested by the lovely @luci-in-trenchcoats. 💜

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Fluff, spiciness/implied smut

Headcanon: How Dean, Beau, and Soldier Boy (Ben) would react to you (getting caught) wearing his clothes.

Dean Winchester

Ugh, what a cocky SOB. 😆 (And yet, not the cockiest of them all.)

You've been doing it for weeks now, without comment from him.

But every time he sees you in one of his undershirts, getting ready for bed, it's always accompanied by a little once-over. A curve of his lips. A smirk, if you will.

He likes the look of you.

He likes that you're his.

And he likes the fact that you feel comfortable enough to steal his clothes.

He also likes welcoming you into bed next to him, with a hand running up your back, or venturing under whatever undershirt you've decided to slip on to feel the warmth of your skin.

"'S this mine?" he asks. You give him a quirking smile.

"You know it is," you say, with playful challenge.

Dean accepts that with a hum and leans in for a kiss as payment.

Sometimes that one stolen kiss leads to another, simmering with heat. And he’ll take great pleasure in taking back his shirt, casting it to the floor and rolling you underneath him on the bed.

But it doesn't stop at his undershirts. You steal his plaid ones if you want something to comfortably drown in when you're doing research, or just lounging in the bunker. The material is soft from several hundred washes. (The red and black one is one of your favorites.)

Rare though it is for him to wear hoodies, it's rarer still, because Dean can never even find one in his side of the dresser.

That's because you're keeping it hostage on your side, buried under your lingerie. (Even if he tried to find the hoodie, odds are he’ll get distracted.)

It gets to the point where he can hardly find anything of his.

His brows furrow as he rucks through his drawers for something clean to wear, while clad in only his most threadbare sweatpants.

"Damn it, woman. Where are my shirts?" he grouses.

You bite your lip and pretend to keep reading your book. You're already safe in bed, covered up to your chest by the blankets.

"I don't know. Have you done your laundry?" you ask, smiling to yourself. Dean catches you, with a suspicious brow raise.

He climbs into bed and snatches the covers away from you. You yelp at the suddenness and try to grab at them, but it's too late.

He discovers that you're wearing one of his newer shirts, which he had to buy to replace the ones he just can't seem to find.

"Are you kidding me? This is Theft in the First goddamn Degree!" he exclaims, even though he's close to laughing at the way you're already giggling. He manages to pin you underneath him on the bed, and he has half a mind to take this shirt back as well, by whatever means necessary.

And yes, tickling is one of those means.

"Sweetheart, for the love of God. Why do you keep taking my shit?" he asks, in a way that's half-serious in his frustration, but also half-teasing.

You shrug shamelessly, still smiling. You run your hands up his bare arms and shoulders, and back down his chest.

"I don't know. It's comfortable," you say. But your eyes lower as your face begins to warm with a blush. "Makes me feel safe...like you're always with me."

At that, the tension in Dean's shoulders eases. His smile can't help but soften around the edges as he looks down on you, now with fondness. After a while, he lets out a deep sigh.

"All right," he says.

You grin, because you know he's given up. You lean up for a kiss that successfully distracts him.

Dean still gets annoyed sometimes when he can't find a specific item of clothing in his drawer, but now, all he has to do is go over to your side of the dresser.

There he knows he'll eventually find what he's looking for.

Beau Arlen

Heh, in this episode of “Whose Hat is it Anyway”...

Beau's wardrobe reminds you of a cowboy in modern times.

Lots of browns and beiges, lots of slacks and buttoned-down shirts tucked in with an army of belts to choose from (even though the man only owns a few pairs of boots). Not to mention a slew of jackets that often pull the look together.

But being that he's new to Montana (specifically, Montana winters), you like to buy him sweaters. Cable-knits and soft ones in earth tones that you think bring out his eyes.

Beau accepts whatever you get him and graciously wears them. He trusts your judgment on what looks good on him, and he appreciates the way you think of him.

It's just one of those ways, however small, that you show that you care and that you're looking out for him.

One night while he's working late, however, you find yourself trying to reorganize the closet. The man is "organized chaos" at best, and you find one of his sweaters on the floor. It's a nice burgundy one that you bought him recently.

Ooh, so soft, you think, while feeling the fabric between your fingers.

You don't know what possesses you, but you decide to slip out of your pajamas and try it on yourself.

SO damn soft, you realize, as you practically drown in the sweater. It hangs about to mid-thigh.

Then you see one of his beige Stetsons hanging on the wall. A sneaking smile curves your lips, before you slip on his hat.

To complete the ensemble, you dig into the recesses of your closet and find a pair of your old cowboy boots. You go out into the bedroom and check yourself out in the mirror with a growing smirk.

"Hey there, darlin'," you try to impersonate your boyfriend's subtle Texan twang, and even his mannerisms by winking at yourself, tipping the hat forward.

You giggle at your own silliness in this moment, but alone in your own house, who freakin' cares? You should feel free to dance naked through the whole damn place if you feel like it.

So you spin on your heel and do a little twirl in your boots.

"Who's the sheriff now, huh?" You mime a pair of guns with your hands and shoot at your reflection. "Psh, psh!"

But that's when you catch sight of one Beau Arlen, leaning against the bedroom doorway with his arms crossed. An amused grin is plastered to his face.

You freeze in shock, still with your "gun hands" held up.

"Oh, don't stop the show on my account," Beau says slyly. He gestures at you. "Please, continue."

Your hot blush spreads from your cheeks and quickly begins to travel down your neck. "Uh...I was just...you know, cleaning the closet. You're very messy, you know!"

Beau snorts and draws closer. Those green eyes of his take in the full sight of you, down your bare thighs and cowboy boots, and back up to your embarrassed face. You bite your bottom lip on reflex.

"You know, I like what you got goin' on here," he says, waving a hand down your form. "But it's just...it's missing something."

He takes his badge with the gold star off his belt and pins it to your sweater.

"There you go. Perfect fit," he says, even as his hand slides up the slope of your back. You find yourself pulled further into his orbit as you try (and fail) to stamp down a smile.

"You're late, you know," you remind him. Beau bows his head and presses a kiss into your neck. You feel his smirk there.

"I'm sorry, Sheriff. Gonna arrest me, or let me off with a warning?" he teases. His other hand comes up to adjust the hat on your head. You smirk and cling to his arms over his dark brown jacket. It's one of his nicer ones.

"I think I can let you off," you play along. You lean up to skim your lips across his cheek, and closer to his ear. "But only for good behavior."

He has to chuckle then. "I can accept those terms..."

Beau's hands slip under your stolen sweater and begin to slide it up your body, inch by inch.

"Though I'm gonna need you to keep the boots on," he says lowly, just before he claims you with a searing kiss.

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Oh, here we go. 😅

As with most things, it's a point of pride for Ben.

He'd prefer you be too fucked out to move, let alone put on clothes after he's finished with you.

On the rare occasion that your body doesn't feel too much like warm molasses after a few hot rounds with your boyfriend, you like to at least grab one of his discarded shirts to cover yourself.

If he still has energy, he'll take that as a challenge. He'll try to slip his hands underneath whatever shirt you've found and divest you of it, so he can start devouring you again.

However. Ben does like seeing you in his clothes, in a possessive, claiming way.

There are days when you just want to be swallowed up in one of his large, comfortable shirts as you lounge about the house.

Ben sometimes watches you putter around, cleaning, working, cooking, reading, or watching TV in nothing but his clothes. He wonders if you're even wearing panties. You could be bare faced with a severe case of bed head, but his eyes will still occasionally follow you.

His expression doesn't reveal too much, but he likes it. (And because you know him, you know it too.)

Maybe he'll catch you as you pass by, hooking an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against him. You startle with a yelp, but then you grab onto his arms and smile.

"Can I help you, sir?" you tease.

"Think you can just walk by me, looking sexy as fuck?" he remarks. He steals a slow, thorough kiss. You cup his face and bring him back in for more, tenderly stroking his cheek.

"You know why I like wearing your stuff?" you ask. Your smile hints at teasing.

Ben arches a brow. "Why?"

"Because it keeps you looking," you reply. And you reach a hand around to slap his ass, for good measure.

Then you saunter away from him to get back to what you were doing.

Or at least, you try to.

Ben grabs your hand and pulls you back towards him, back into the cage of his arms, where he falls back into the trap you've so often laid. And he finishes what you started.

AN: Well, then. 😂 I hope you guys enjoy this! Who had your favorite reaction: Dean, Beau, or Ben? 😘

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winterarmyy · 4 months

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He Hates Me, Doesn't He?

A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of.

Summary: You hurt Bucky's girl, and now he hates you.

Pairing: tfatws!bucky x female!reader

Words: 6.7k++

Warnings: angstyyyyyyyyy, but with happy ending because I cannot live in agony. miscommunication galore. 'I want to strangle bucky's girlfriend.' soft reader, cold/mean bucky. bucky should've grovel more. horrible attempt of writing verbal arguments. nothing much but pain.

Inspiration: I remember reading a bucky fic years ago and I like the pain that it caused me to feel. Idk why the pain suddenly came back to me lately. So, this is my take on the same idea. I haven't able to find it. But when I do, I'll reblog it in my another acc!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

y/n had always been a steady presence in the Avengers, known for her gentle demeanour and unwavering support. Her relationship with Bucky Barnes had blossomed from a quiet friendship into something deeper. When they first met, Bucky was reserved and hesitant, still grappling with his past as the Winter Soldier. y/n, with her gentle nature and patient understanding, slowly helped him come out of his shell.

She remembered the sleepless nights they spent together when they were on the run with Steve and Sam. They'd share stories, and sometimes just sit in silence, her quiet company offering solace to Bucky's restless mind. The unspoken bond growing stronger with each passing day. Bucky looked up to her, finding comfort in her presence, and in turn, he became fiercely protective of her. They'd watch each other's backs during missions, their synergy on the battlefield a testament to their deep connection.

And somewhere along the line, she fell for him. She had fallen for Bucky's resilience and vulnerability, though she never expected more, knowing that a relationship was not what he needed right now. At least, that's what she thought. Little did she know, Bucky had always loved her; ever since the day she offered him tea the first night they were on the run to Wakanda. Maybe she was just simply aloof, or maybe Bucky’s flirting skills weren’t translated the way he wanted, but they never crossed the line between friendship and ‘something more’.

Then when Jen came into the picture, it felt like things started to change. Jen was bold and confident, and it wasn't long before she caught Bucky's eye. Their relationship seemed to spring up overnight, and y/n, though hurt, tried to be happy for Bucky. Jen was supportive and caring, or so it seemed, and Bucky deserved happiness.

Now, as planned the team was instructed to moved into the Avenger compound for a few months to train new recruits. It had only been the first month but surely it was jam packed with endless of rigorous training sessions. The original team—y/n, Sam, Bucky, Jen, Clint, and his mentee Kate Bishop—were all assigned to train the new recruits, with additional of few agents from different branches coming in to help out.

y/n was heading to the training room; she knew it was way too early but she thought that if she didn’t get out of bed now, she might not even get up at all. To her surprise, she was not the first one. She saw a few new trainees were already on the way to the training room; some of them greeted her a good morning. She simply smiled at their enthusiasm.

The moment she entered the area, she overheard voices coming from the corner of the room. She paused, recognizing Jen's voice, which was raised and laced with contempt. Curiosity piqued, y/n stepped closer, staying just out of sight behind the white board. In hindsight, it might seem weird that she was sneaking around to eavesdrop on Jen, but she couldn't help it.

Initially, y/n liked Jen. She tried to welcome her into their tight-knit group and even supported her relationship with Bucky. However, as time went on, Jen began acting strange. The things she said about Bucky sometimes sounded condescending. She would make comments like, "It's amazing how well he's adjusted, considering his past," or, "It's great that he's trying so hard to be normal." The way she acted often differed from her words, with Jen giving Bucky disapproving glances or sighing heavily whenever he mentioned something from his troubled past.

She had noticed these discrepancies and started to feel uneasy around Jen. She couldn't shake the feeling that Jen’s support was just a facade. Now, standing behind the whiteboard, she strained to hear the conversation.

"…and honestly, I don’t understand how anyone can trust him," Jen was saying. "I mean, sure, he's got that whole 'reformed hero' thing going on now, but let’s be real. He was Hydra’s pet assassin for decades. The things he’s done? It’s unforgivable."

Her friend, another agent from a different branch, nodded hesitantly. "But you’re dating him, aren’t you? Doesn’t that mean you trust him?"

Jen laughed, a cold, humourless sound. "Dating him? Please. I’m in it for the fame and the perks. Have you seen the way people look at us? Besides, he’s hot, I’ll give him that. But trust him? Never. People like him don’t change. They’re broken. He's a monster, and he always will be. It’s only a matter of time before he snaps again."

y/n felt a surge of anger rise within her. How dare Jen talk about Bucky like that?

Memories flooded her mind, flashing back to Bucky’s nightmare-plagued nights. She remembered the prominent dark circles under his eyes, the haunted look that never quite left his face. The silent pain he endured, adjusting to a modern world where he felt like an outsider, magnified when Steve left. She could still see the wary, suspicious glances people cast in his direction, the whispers behind his back when they first ventured out. Before the fame he acquired as he regained his reputation after the Flag-Smasher incident.

She had witnessed his hardships firsthand—the nightmares that woke him in a cold sweat, the moments of crippling doubt and self-loathing. But she had also seen his triumphs, the small victories that slowly built his confidence. The first time he laughed freely in her presence, the genuine smile that lit up his face when he finally allowed himself to relax. She cherished those moments, the sunshine that broke through the clouds of his tortured past.

All of this came rushing back, breaking the chains on the Pandora's box inside of her. The fury she felt wasn't just for the disrespect to Bucky; it was for every ounce of pain he had suffered, every moment of joy he had fought so hard to reclaim. Her eyes hardened with resolve as she stepped forward, her voice steady but cold. "Take that back," she demanded, her presence startling both Jen and her friend.

Jen turned slowly, a smirk spreading across her face as she saw y/n. She knew from the beginning about the cute little crush y/n had on Bucky. To be frank, everybody sort of knew about it, except for Bucky somehow.

"Or else what, y/n?" she replied with a mocking tone. "You’re quite pathetic aren’t you? You think that I can’t see how you’ve been eye-fucking my boyfriend all this time? Come on, now. Backing him up would not give you a leeway into his pants, y/n."

y/n’s face went through a range of emotions—shock, embarrassment, and then seething anger. Jen’s words were like poison, each one landing like a punch to the gut.

Jen continued, confidence oozing out of her cocky demeanor, "Besides, we all know that I can easily beat you in a fight, doll"

The use of doll—a nickname Bucky had given y/n from day one, when Steve had quite literally kidnapped Bucky from the government—made y/n blood boil. Hearing it from Jen felt like a personal attack, a deliberate attempt to undermine everything she shared with Bucky.

And it was true that Jen had graduated top of her batch from the Avengers program and had countless successful missions under her belt, but y/n knew this wasn't about accolades or abilities. This was about something deeper, something more personal.

y/n clenched her fists, taking a step closer. "You think this is about who can fight better?" she said, her voice shaking with restrained fury. "This is about respect. You don’t get to talk about Bucky like that."

Jen scoffed, a cruel smile on her lips. "Respect? For that monster? You’re delusional. He’s a ticking time bomb, a liability to the team. And deep down, everyone knows it."

y/n’s patience snapped. In one swift motion, she slapped Jen hard across the face, the sound echoing through the room. Jen stumbled and fell to the ground, shock and anger flashing across her features.

She stalks forward like a predator cornering its prey, "I’m just done with your lies and your insults. Bucky deserves better than you." Jen instinctively crawled backwards towards the centre of the room. Seeing that she got the attention of the few new recruits she regained her composure, smirked again, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. "You’re pathetic, y/n," she taunted. "Defending a lost cause." her voice was loud enough for y/n to hear but quiet enough that the others might not be able to decipher her words.

At that moment, Bucky and Sam burst into the room, followed closely behind by a new recruit who alerted them of the incident. Bucky’s eyes widened as he took in the scene—Jen on the ground, y/n standing over her, shaking with rage. "What’s going on here?" His demand was completely ignored as y/n’s mind was hyper-focused on the wrath bubbling within her.

"Get up," y/n demanded, her voice shaking with wrath. Bucky’s momentarily froze as he watched the confrontation escalate before him. y/n, usually so composed, was now a whirlwind of rage, her eyes blazing as she stood over a trembling Jen. Bucky had always known her to be fierce in battle, but this was different—this was raw, unbridled anger. "I'm going to make you regret every word you said. So get on your fucking feet before I rip it off you.."

Jen, still on the ground, looked up at y/n with wide, teary eyes, playing the role of the victim to perfection. "Please, I didn't– I don’t know what you're…," she whimpered, casting a fearful glance at Bucky and Sam, who had just arrived on the scene.

Bucky's mind raced. Why was she doing this? He stepped forward, trying to diffuse the situation. "y/n, hey!" he shouted, his voice a mix of confusion and anger. "What are you doing?"

Completely ignoring him, "Get up," y/n snarled, her eyes blazing with intensity. "Get up and fight me. I’ll show you who the real monster is." Jen looked up, her hand on her cheek, disbelief mingling with her fury. "You’re crazy," she spat, scrambling to her feet.

Her response was only a furious shout. "I said, get up!"

"y/n, are you crazy?!" Bucky yelled, moving quickly to intervene. He grabbed her wrist, his grip tight and unforgiving.

She turned her fierce gaze towards Bucky; her expression momentarily faltering at the hurt in his eyes. "Bucky, you don’t understand, she--" she began, but the words caught in her throat as she saw Jen's smirk flicker for just a second.

"There's nothing to understand," Bucky snapped. "You’re acting insane."

y/n looked at him, her eyes filled with hurt and frustration. "Bucky, you have to listen—"

But he cut her off, his expression hard. "I don’t care! You hurt her, y/n. You think I don’t see that bruise on her cheek?!" Bucky shouted, his face contorted with anger. His eyes, usually filled with a gentle warmth when he looked at y/n, were now blazing with fury. "This isn’t like you, y/n. I’ve noticed that you’ve never liked Jen, and I don’t know why. But this? This is just immature and reckless." His metal grip on y/n's wrist was tighter than he intended. She winced, her eyes watering not just from the pain but from the sting of his words.

y/n had never seen Bucky like this. His anger was palpable, radiating off him in waves. It was like being hit with a physical force, and she felt her heart breaking under the weight of it. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them away, her anger flaring even hotter. "Bucky, you don’t understand," she tried to explain, but the words caught in her throat.

Bucky’s expression remained hard, the force on her wrist tightening painfully. "You need to grow up, y/n," he seethed, his disappointment evident in his tone. "You're always causing drama lately, and it needs to stop. Jen’s been there for me in ways you haven’t, and I won’t tolerate you attacking her like this."

The words cut through her like a knife. Her heart shattered at his harshness, at the realization that Bucky thought so little of her. She yanked her wrist free, feeling the sting of his grip lingering. "Fine," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Believe what you want."

Without another word, she turned and stormed out, leaving Bucky standing there, torn between confusion and guilt.

A gnawing sense of remorse tugging at him, but he couldn't shake the confusion and anger clouding his mind. "Jen, are you okay?" he asked, helping her to her feet.

Jen, tucking herself to his side, managed to summon a few tears, looking up at Bucky with a feigned innocence. "I don’t know why she hates me so much," she murmured, playing her part perfectly.

Bucky fingers softly traces on her wounded cheek before his gaze switched to y/n’s retreating form, a knot tightening in his chest. He wasn’t sure why those mean words had spouted out of his lips. Was it because he saw Jen injured on the ground and his protective instincts kicked in? Or was it because Jen had been whispering doubts in his ear about y/n’s loyalty, making him question his longtime friend?

The truth was, Bucky had always relied on y/n’s unwavering support. She had been his rock through the toughest times, and seeing her so furious, so hurt, shook him to his core. Yet, in the heat of the moment, he had lashed out, unable to reconcile the image of Jen crying with the fierce anger that radiated from y/n.

As Bucky comforted Jen, his mind was a storm of conflicting emotions. He couldn't shake the image of hurt on her face, nor could he ignore the nagging feeling that he was missing a crucial piece of the puzzle.

On the side, Sam was only able to watch the scene play out silently, a frown creasing his brow. He had a feeling there was more to this story, and he intended to get to the bottom of it.

As weeks passed, the rift between Bucky and y/n deepened, fueled by Jen's cunning manipulation. In a private conversation, Jen planted seeds of doubt in Bucky's mind, suggesting that y/n harboured hidden resentments and intentions.

"I hate to say it, Bucky, but maybe she's not who we thought she was," Jen insinuated, her voice dripping with false concern. "Maybe she's been hiding her true feelings all along, waiting for the right moment to strike."

Bucky, already vulnerable and confused after the incident in the training room, absorbed Jen's words like poison, allowing them to fester and take root in his mind. He began to view y/n through a new lens, one tainted by suspicion and distrust. This single conversation, filled with subtle manipulations and insidious suggestions, was all it took to fracture the bond between Bucky and y/n, leaving Bucky cold and distant towards the one person who had always stood by his side.

Most days he would avoid eye contact with her during team meetings, barely acknowledging her presence when they were forced to interact. In training sessions, his instructions to her were curt and clipped, lacking the warmth and camaraderie they once shared. y/n felt each of these interactions like a stab to the heart.

She couldn't understand how quickly Bucky had turned against her, how easily he had accepted Jen's version of events without even giving her a chance to explain. The hurt festered inside her, eating away at her sense of self-worth.

Then one night, as y/n sat alone on the rooftop, staring out into the darkness, Sam found her there. He knew this was where she retreated when she needed space to think, to process her emotions. He approached her cautiously, sitting down beside her without a word.

"Why aren't you at dinner, y/n?" Sam finally asked, breaking the silence. He could see the emptiness in her eyes, the weight of her sorrow pressing down on her.

She shook her head, her voice hollow. "Lost my appetite," she muttered, her gaze still fixed on the horizon.

Sam gently prodded, knowing there was more to her withdrawal than just a lack of hunger. "Is it because of what happened the other day at the training room?" he asked softly.

Instantly, her demeanor shifted. Anger flared in her eyes, directed not just at Jen and Bucky, but at the entire situation. "I don't want to talk about it, Sam," she snapped, her frustration bubbling to the surface. But Sam wasn't one to give up easily, especially when he knew how much y/n was hurting. "Come on, y/n," he urged, his voice gentle but insistent. "You can't keep bottling this up. Talk to me."

Her expression softened slightly at Sam's persistence, but the pain still lingered in her eyes. "Seriously, Sam, please just drop it," she pleaded, her voice wavering with emotion.

Sam could see the cracks forming in her facade, the vulnerability seeping through the tough exterior she usually projected. Without a word, he pulled her into a comforting embrace, letting her bury her face against his shoulder.

As she clung to him, her facade finally crumbled. Her lips trembled, her eyes filled with unshed tears. "He hates me, doesn't he?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbreak. "Bucky hates me."

Sam held her tighter, offering silent comfort as she grappled with the weight of her sorrow. He knew there were no easy answers, no quick fixes to mend the shattered pieces of y/n's heart. But in that moment, all he could do was be there for her, a steady anchor in the storm of her emotions.

The dim glow of the kitchen's overhead light provided a faint sense of solace in the otherwise silent darkness of the compound. Bucky sat at the wooden table, his tired eyes staring blankly at the cup of untouched tea before him. It was a nightly ritual lately, this dance with sleeplessness and the haunting memories that lurked in the shadows of his mind yet again.

Footsteps broke the stillness, and Bucky's gaze shifted to the entrance of the kitchen. y/n stood hesitantly in the doorway, her presence casting a tentative aura over the room. There was a palpable tension between them, an unspoken weight that hung heavy in the air.

She cleared her throat, breaking the awkward silence. "Mind if I join you?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She was expecting Bucky to ignore her completely but he didn’t; Bucky simply shrugged nonchalantly, his guard seemed to flatter. "Suit yourself," he muttered.

As she quietly took a seat opposite him, a heavy silence settled between them. Bucky's thoughts churned with a whirlwind of emotions, each one vying for dominance over the others. His guard seemed to falter in the presence of her tentative yet comforting aura. The weight of his own vulnerability loomed large in his mind, drowning out the anger he had harboured towards her.

As the silence stretched between them, she felt a surge of compassion wash over her. She knew why he was awake at this time. She knew that the tea he brewed was to help him sleep. She was the one who planted that habit to him after all.

And despite everything that had transpired between them, she couldn't bear to see Bucky suffer alone. With a deep breath to steady her nerves, she decided to reach out to him, to offer what little comfort she could.

Without a word, y/n rose from her seat and moved to stand behind Bucky's chair. He stiffened at her touch, his muscles tense with apprehension. But as her gentle hands began to massage the tension from his neck, a wave of unexpected relief washed over him.

Her touch was soft and comforting, a stark contrast to the coldness he had grown accustomed to due to Jen’s unwillingness to acknowledge this side of him. She ran her fingers through his hair, coaxing him to relax, to let go of the burdens that weighed heavily on his shoulders. For a brief moment, Bucky allowed himself to forget the walls he had built around his heart. In her presence, her voice, and her touch; he felt a glimmer of hope, a flicker of warmth that he had long since forgotten.

But then, like a sudden gust of wind extinguishing a fragile flame, the weight of Jen's words came crashing back down upon him. Anger flared within him, hot and fierce, directed not only at y/n but at himself for allowing his heart to yearn for her.

He pushed himself away from the table, his movements sharp and abrupt. "I don't need your pity, y/n," he spat, his words laced with bitterness. "Just leave me alone."

With that, he stormed out of the kitchen, leaving y/n alone in the suffocating silence.The disbelief that clouded her thoughts gave way to a searing agony that twisted in her chest. How could he say such things? How could he push her away so callously, after everything they had shared?

y/n buried her face in her hands, her body trembling with the force of her sobs. The weight of her shattered dreams pressed down on her, crushing her spirit beneath its merciless grip. She had never felt so alone, so utterly abandoned by the one person she had trusted above all others.

The pain of losing Bucky, of losing the love that had sustained her through the darkest of times, threatened to consume her whole. Each breath felt like a struggle, each heartbeat a painful reminder of the emptiness that now filled her soul.

In that moment of crushing despair, she couldn't help but believe that Bucky truly hated her. The thought tore through her like a knife, leaving behind a raw, gaping wound that no amount of time or distance could ever hope to heal.

As she sat alone in the suffocating silence of the kitchen, y/n felt the full weight of her heartbreak descend upon her like a tidal wave. She was lost in a sea of pain and sorrow, drowning in the agony of losing someone she had loved so deeply, so completely. And in that moment, she couldn't help but wonder if she would ever find her way back to the surface again.

Unbeknownst to her, Bucky lingered just out of sight, his heart heavy with guilt. He wanted to go back, to take back his harsh words and hold her close, to chase away the tears that stained her cheeks. But the poison in his mind was too strong, clouding his judgement and trapping him in a cycle of self-destructive despair. And so, with a heavy heart, he turned and walked away, leaving y/n to cry alone in the darkness.

The mission had already been tense enough, but as y/n found herself face to face with Jen in a location she wasn't supposed to be, the atmosphere crackled with an added layer of hostility. It was as if fate had conspired to place them in this confrontation, and her jaw clenched involuntarily as she braced herself for what was to come.

Jen's presence in that spot was no coincidence, and she knew it. Her suspicions were confirmed as Jen turned to face her, a smirk playing on her lips, a gleam of malice in her eyes. y/n's grip tightened on her weapon, her pulse quickening as she prepared for the verbal assault she knew was coming.

"How does it feel, knowing that Bucky hates you now?" Jen's words sliced through the air like a knife, each syllable carrying the weight of y/n’s deepest fears. It was a direct hit, striking at the core of her insecurities, and for a moment, she felt as though the ground had been ripped out from beneath her feet.

But she refused to let Jen see her falter. With a steely resolve, she squared her shoulders and met Jen's gaze head-on, her expression a mask of defiance. She may have been shaken by Jen's words, but she refused to let them break her.

Ignoring the taunts, she focused on the mission at hand, determined to prove her worth despite Jen's attempts to undermine her. But with each passing moment, the weight of Jen's words hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over y/n’s every move.

It was a battle on two fronts – against the enemy they faced together, and against the doubts that threatened to consume her from within. But she refused to back down, drawing strength from the knowledge that she fought not just for herself, but for the team she believed in with all her heart.

But Jen's relentless barrage of insults made it difficult to concentrate, her words like daggers slicing through y/n’s defenses.

"Aww come on y/n, bet you’re reeling in the loss right now, aren’t you." Jen continued, her voice ice cold. "The Asset’s little lapdog, clinging to him like a lost puppy."

y/n’s temper flared at the insult, her grip tightening on her weapon as she fought to keep her emotions in check. But Jen's mocking laughter only fueled the fire burning within her, pushing her to the brink of her patience. "Shut your mouth, Jen," she growled, her voice low and dangerous. "Or I swear to God, I'll make sure that the team finds your body disassembled in one of these rooms."

Jen simply rolled her eyes, unfazed by her threat. "You love him that much, huh?" y/n had no intention to deny that fact; she does love him, "More than you ever could." her voice was firm and true. Jen’s smirk fell as she scoffed. "Ain't that cute, the Winter Soldier and his little psycho sweetheart."

Before y/n could respond, a voice cut through the tension like a knife, freezing her in place. It was Bucky, his expression dark and stormy as he stepped into view. "What's going on here?" he demanded, his eyes narrowing in suspicion as he took in the scene before him.

y/n’s heart sank as she realized that Bucky might have heard everything. She turned around to meet his eyes and his face confirmed her suspicion; he heard it. Bucky had heard everything – every taunt, every insult, every word exchanged between her and Jen; even the confession of her true feelings. She met his gaze; searching for some sign of understanding of his emotions and the little that she saw was: disappointment, betrayal and guilt, mirrored back at her in the depths of his stormy blue eyes.

In that moment, all she wanted to do was pull him into her arms, to pull him away from all the painful memories and hurtful words; so far away that he would forget he had ever been taunted, betrayed, or made to feel less than he was.

Before she could utter a word, let alone take a step towards him, Jen's voice broke through, but it lacked the usual confidence. "Bucky, it's not what you think," she stammered, her eyes darting nervously between Bucky and y/n. "I-I was just..."

y/n’s clenched her jaw, her patience wearing thin as Jen stumbled over her words, unable to come up with a coherent explanation. She could see the confusion and hurt in Bucky's eyes, a reflection of the turmoil raging within her own heart.

"I-I mean," Jen continued, her voice faltering. "I was...um...just trying to...uh..."

But her feeble attempts to justify her actions only served to further incense Bucky. His brow furrowed in anger, his fists clenched at his sides as he struggled to make sense of the situation.

"Enough," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I don't want to hear any more lies."

y/n’s heart ached as she watched Bucky's expression darken with anger and disappointment. She wanted to explain, to tell him the truth about Jen's betrayal and her own misguided attempt to defend him. But the words caught in her throat, choked by the weight of her guilt and regret.

With a heavy sigh, Bucky turned away, his shoulders slumped with defeat. "Let's just finish the mission," he muttered, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "We'll deal with this later."

As he was about to walk away, y/n noticed a red dot on his chest, the unmistakable mark of a sniper's laser sight. Without thinking twice, she leaped towards him, her body acting as a human shield. Time seemed to slow down as she collided with Bucky, pushing him out of the way.

"y/n, no!" Bucky shouted, his voice filled with panic as her body slumped against his chest.

In the chaos, Jen was nowhere to be seen. She had slipped away, taking shelter and ultimately fleeing the area as she heard multiple footsteps approaching.

Bucky tried to pull up his gun, but it was too late. An array of bullets rained down on them. He felt the searing pain of a few shots piercing his own flesh, but it was nothing compared to the sight of y/n’s body being riddled with bullets. She was hit in the shoulder, wrist, thighs, and other places Bucky couldn't even register.

Rage surged through Bucky like an inferno, obliterating any semblance of restraint. He moved with a deadly precision, his eyes blazing with fury as he unleashed a storm of bullets on the enemy. His movements were swift and unforgiving, every shot finding its mark with brutal accuracy. The enemy fell one by one, their bodies collapsing in lifeless heaps. The air was filled with the deafening sound of gunfire and the acrid smell of gunpowder, but Bucky's focus was unyielding.

Within moments, the room was cleared, the enemies wiped out in a flurry of rage-fueled vengeance.

The adrenaline ebbed away, leaving Bucky standing amidst the carnage, his chest heaving. He turned, and his eyes fell on y/n's crumpled form. The sight of her lying in a pool of her own blood shattered his rage, replacing it with a crushing wave of worry and panic.

"Hang in there. Please," Bucky hastily spoke, his voice trembling. He activated his com line, desperation seeping into his tone. "Guys, we need help. y/n... she's... she's been shot. We need to get out of here right now!" Panic coursed through him as he turned his attention back to y/n, frantically trying to stop the bleeding on her stomach. "y/n, doll…please" he pleaded, watching her hazy gaze. "Don't you dare give up on me now. Come on."

"babydoll, stay with me!" Bucky cried, his voice breaking as he cradled her in his arms. Blood soaked through her clothes, staining his hands. "Please, hang on, you can’t leave yet. I haven't told you... I haven't—"

Her eyes fluttered open, her breathing shallow and ragged. "It's okay, Bucky," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the chaos. "It's okay. Don't cry." Her shaking hands struggled to move, and with great effort, she managed to cup Bucky's cheek. The gesture was weak but filled with tenderness. "It's okay," she repeated, her fingers trembling against his skin.

"Don't talk like that," Bucky choked out, his own tears mingling with the blood on his face. "You can't.. I haven't told you...please doll..." His voice wavered with the weight of unspoken words and unconfessed feelings. He hadn't told her how much he truly cared for her, how every moment spent away from her felt like an eternity. He hadn't begged for forgiveness for his coldness, his mistakes, and for letting Jen's poison taint his actions. The guilt gnawed at him, each heartbeat a reminder of the words he hadn't said, the emotions he hadn't expressed.

He pressed her hand harder against his cheek, feeling the warmth of her touch anchoring him in the moment.Her hand weakly brushing against his cheek. "I know, sweetheart," she murmured. "I know."

Bucky's heart shattered as he clung to her, feeling her life slipping away. "No, no, no," he muttered desperately. "You can't leave me. Please, y/n. Please."

She smiled faintly, her eyes closing. "I'm here, Bucky. I'm right here."

With a final, shuddering breath, y/n’s consciousness slipped away. Bucky felt a surge of panic, but he knew he had to move. He lifted her limp body, cradling her against his chest as he ran towards the quinjet. Each step was agony, his own injuries slowing him down, but he didn't care. All that mattered was getting y/n to safety.

"Hang on, y/n," he whispered, his voice trembling. "Hang on. I won't let you go."

In the sterile environment of the medical bay, y/n lay unconscious, her body hooked up to various machines that monitored her vital signs. Bucky sat by her bedside, his eyes red-rimmed and swollen from crying. Every beep of the monitor seemed to echo through the silence, a haunting reminder of her fragile state. He held her hand, his thumb gently caressing her bandaged wrist.

Memories of their time together flooded Bucky's mind, each one a bittersweet reminder of the connection they shared. He remembered the laughter they had shared, the late-night conversations that stretched into the early hours of the morning. He remembered the gentle touch of her hand, the warmth of her smile that never failed to chase away the darkness.

But amidst the memories, there was also pain – the pain of their last conversation, the words left unsaid and the choices left unmade. Bucky's throat tightened as he recalled the day he had walked away from Jen, the air thick with tension and unspoken truths.

His voice was cold and final. "You almost got her killed, Jen," he had said, his eyes blazing with anger. "Stay away from us. Stay away from me."

Jen's eyes had flashed with anger, her words cutting like knives as she lashed out in frustration. "And what, you think you'll find someone better than me?" she had spat, her voice dripping with venom. "Good luck with that, Bucky. You'll never find anyone who would put up with your baggage."

But Bucky had remained resolute, his decision fueled by a sense of longing and regret that threatened to consume him whole. "Maybe not," he had admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I'd rather be alone than with someone who doesn't truly care about me."

Now, as Bucky sat by y/n’s bedside, the weight of his decision bore down on him like a crushing weight. Tears welled in his eyes as he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair away from her face, his fingers trembling with emotion.

"I'm so sorry, babydoll," he whispered, his voice thick with unshed tears. "I never meant for any of this to happen. So, please, wake up. I need you."

But y/n remained unconscious, her breathing shallow and weak as she lay before him. And as Bucky watched over her, his heart heavy with worry and regret, he vowed to do whatever it took to bring her back to him, to keep her safe from harm for all eternity.

For in that moment, Bucky realized that he couldn't bear to lose her – not now, not ever. She was his rock, his anchor in a world of uncertainty and pain. And as he held her hand tightly in his own, he prayed with all his heart that she would find her way back to him, to the love and light that had always guided them through the darkness.

The soft hum of machines filled the air as y/n stirred awake, her senses slowly coming back to her. She blinked, disoriented at first, until her gaze fell upon Bucky, who was sleeping soundly in the chair beside her bed. His hands were clasped tightly around hers, his face peaceful in slumber, but she couldn't help but notice the tear stains on his cheeks, the dark circles under his eyes, the worry lines etched into his forehead.

"How long has it been since?" she wondered to herself, her heart aching at the sight of Bucky's exhausted form. She carefully sat up, trying not to disturb him as she lovingly examined his sleeping face. She couldn't help but smile as she gently ran her fingers through his hair, the soft strands slipping through her fingertips.

Bucky groaned as his sleep was interrupted, muttering something about Sam needs to leave him be; before he abruptly sat up, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Hi there," y/n greeted softly, her eyes sparkling with affection as she watched Bucky's reaction.

For a moment, Bucky seemed unable to comprehend that she was finally awake. His eyes widened in disbelief, his mouth slightly agape. But then the realization hit him, and he threw himself at her, wrapping her in a tight embrace as if she were the most precious thing in the world .Despite the pain that shot through her body, she managed to let out a soft chuckle, returning his embrace with equal fervor. The warmth of his embrace chased away the lingering chill of unconsciousness, and for a moment, everything felt right.

"y/n..." Bucky breathed into her neck, his voice trembling with emotion. She hummed in response, her heart swelling for him. "Hmmm?"

Not wanting to let go of her, Bucky called her name once again, his voice wavering with uncertainty. "y/n-..." She paused, her lips curving into a tender smile as she whispered in his ear, "Yes, Bucky?"

Bucky tightened his grip, his breath hitching in his throat as he buried his face in her shoulder. y/n gently rubbed his back, her touch soothing and comforting as she reassured him, "I'm here, sweetheart." The scent of her hair, the feel of her warmth against him—it all felt overwhelming. Emotions churned inside him like a tempest. Relief, guilt, love, and fear battled for dominance, leaving him raw and exposed.

She gently rubbed his back, her touch soothing and comforting as she reassured him, "Bucky, I'm not going anywhere.

Bucky's mind raced, images of the past few weeks flashing before his eyes. He remembered the coldness with which he'd treated her, the cruel words that had slipped from his lips, fueled by Jen's poison. He thought of the sleepless nights, the nightmares that had gripped him, and the aching void he'd felt every time he saw y/n’s hurt expression.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice muffled against her shoulder. "For everything. For not believing you. For pushing you away."

Reluctantly, she pulled away, but not before wiping the tears from Bucky's cheeks and fighting the urge to place a tender kiss on his forehead. As she looked into his eyes, she could see the depth of his love and the pain he had endured for her sake. And in that moment, she knew that she had found her home in his arms. Bucky took her hands in his own, his eyes closed as he pressed a kiss to her wounded wrists. "This will never happen again. Ever," he vowed, his voice filled with determination.

Moved by his words, y/n felt her heart flutter with emotion. She realized in that moment that she could never stay angry at him, no matter what had transpired between them. She understood now that they were both at fault, both victims of circumstance and misunderstanding.

With a surge of courage, she reached out and pulled Bucky into a kiss. Her lips met his in a slow, passionate embrace, pouring all of her love and forgiveness into the tender gesture. It was a moment of connection, of healing, of reaffirming their bond despite the trials they had faced.

The taste of Bucky's lips was like a soothing salve to her soul; it was intoxicating. It felt as if the world had fallen away, leaving only the two of them entwined in each other's arms. When they finally broke apart, Bucky whispered those three words that y/n had longed to hear, "I love you."

Her heart soared with joy, and she couldn't help but tease him, "Took you long enough." her teasing words met with a cheeky grin from Bucky. "I love you too, Bucky" she blinked slowly. As he whispered softly under his breath, "Come here," he pulled her back into the kiss, their lips meeting in a tender embrace that spoke volumes of their unspoken love. And in that moment, amidst the chaos and uncertainty of their world, they found solace in each other's arms, knowing that together, they could weather any storm.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: I just needed to let this out lmao. It's been stuck in my head for several weeks. Thank you for spending your time reading this crap... honestly. Love you so much 🤍

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #tfatws!bucky #bucky angst #bucky fluff

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gffa · 6 months

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Jedi culture & community fics, my beloved! They're a bit of a rare breed for what you're specifically looking for, specifically focusing on positive Jedi worldbuilding, so if anyone has genfic recs outside of the ones I know, please feel free to add them! But these should help scratch that itch for you, each of them has at least some focus on Jedi philosophy or how Jedi interact with each other or the lessons they teach! It's been awhile since I've read some of them, so there might be some that aren't quite as in-line with how I see the Jedi these days, but they're all ones I felt portrayed them pretty positively and they're all genfic (except one that I made an exception for) and all really lovely fics I remember enjoying for the Jedi worldbuilding aspects! And there are some that will make you absolutely melt with how much you love these characters and their beautiful culture, because by god if canon's not going to give us as much detail as we want, fandom will step up. And fandom made sure to not just focus on the disaster lineage--we love Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ahsoka, we always want more of them, please don't stop writing Jedi worldbuilding with them!--but also Mace and Yoda and Quinlan and Qui-Gon and even some Jedi OCs get some love in these fics, which makes me want to explode with joy to see! So, come cry about how much we love the Jedi with me, I WILL GIVE YOU A CRAPLOAD OF FIC TO READ. STAR WARS & JEDI CULTURE & WORLDBULDING RECS YOU'LL FIND HERE:

NOVEL AND NOVELLA LENGTH

MID-LENGTH

SHORT AND YET SO GOOD-LENGTH

NOVEL AND NOVELLA LENGTH: ✦ Remedial Jedi Theology by MarbleGlove, obi-wan & anakin & jedi & cast, 51.3k Let us consider the fact that the Jedi Order is a monastic religious organization based out of a temple, with five basic tenets of faith. ✦ Festival of Light by dendral, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 8.7k During his first year at the Jedi Temple, Anakin learns that even the Jedi celebrate holidays. ✦ Out with Lanterns by SkyeBean, ahsoka & mace & jedi & clones & cast, 312.5k In another universe, Jedi Masters Plo Koon and Depa Billaba decide a Padawan could do Mace some good. It takes a while, but he eventually agrees. When he takes Ahsoka Tano as his Padawan, Mace knows that he's broken through a Shatterpoint and changed the course of a life. How, he doesn't know. ✦ eat well; be well by gingerbeer, rainsoaked_benevolence (oceans_bluem), obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & yoda & depa & shaak & quinlan & aayla & cast, 18.6k Or, (almost) all of the Jedi High Councilors (plus Ahsoka) gather to eat dinner together. ✦ Supreme Chancellor Obi-Wan Kenobi by stonefreak, obi-wan & anakin & padme & ahsoka & palpatine & yoda & quinlan & cody & cast, 126.3k wip By an old Republic law, all members of the Jedi High Council are senators in the Galactic Senate, and can thus be voted in as chancellor. A Senator from a less prominent planet has had enough of Chancellor Palpatine's incompetence and calls for a Vote of No-Confidence and the installation of Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi as Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic. This one action becomes the catalyst that changes the direction of the galaxy. ✦ Pragmatics of the Jedi by aroacejoot, ghostwriterofthemachine, loosingletters, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & jedi, 31.3k A series of fanfiction exploring the consequences and results of the Jedi having their own language, and speaking it still. ✦ light by loosingletters, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & mace & jedi, 56.1k Anakin Skywalker is a Jedi and being a part of their Order means that he is protected and accepted. The war is over and the Republic has to recover from the crimes of the Sith Lord, the Jedi have to figure out what it means to be peacekeepers again and the Clones have to learn how to be more than expendable soldiers. ✦ When Darkness Seems to Hide This Place by IllyanaA, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & kanan & ocs & cast, 94.9k wip After killing three of the Jedi Order's best and brightest, Palpatine's fight with Jedi Master Mace Windu goes shorter than expected. Afraid he's lost his chance at recruiting a new apprentice, Sidious unleashes Order 66 across the galaxy, but, per their programming, the Clone Army is not to harm Anakin Skywalker. After witnessing the most painful loss he's ever experienced and injured at the hands of his captors, Anakin is ready to die like the rest of the Jedi, though not before getting his vengeance.

✦ Knightrise by Deviant_Accumulation, obi-wan & yoda & satine & ahsoka & asajj & cast, 89.4k wip "Strong enough to fight the Sith Lord, you are not.“ And just like that the fight drained out of Obi-Wan, the barely scraped together agitation running out of him like water from a broken glass. He looked at Yoda, the other Master already hobbling towards one of the back exits, his presence burning with focus, obviously expecting Obi-Wan to follow. ✦ Make a Brand New End by Batsutousai, obi-wan & anakin & feemor & qui-gon & yoda & mace & dooku & jedi, 118.6k Feemor, Qui-Gon Jinn's first padawan, did not survive Order 66, but the Force granted him a boon: A chance to go back to days before Qui-Gon's death. He doesn't know why the Force picked him to remember that terrible future, but he's going to do what he can to change it. And if he can heal the rift fallen between himself and Qui-Gon, and finally get the chance to know Obi-Wan, well, he's not about to turn that down. ✦ Unexpected Awakening (The Rewrite) by Rhiw, obi-wan & qui-gon & bruck & feemor & cast, time travel, 135.1k wip The life of General Kenobi is cut short at the hands of his Padawan, but the sight that greets his eyes upon awakening is not that of blinding light of the Force, but the Jedi Temple he knew when he was still a youth. As he struggles to understand the path laid out before him, Obi-Wan unwittingly captures the attention of a singularly unusual Temple Guard, and that of a reluctant Qui-Gon Jinn. ✦ No Rest for the Weary by orphan_account, obi-wan & anakin & jedi, 61k Needing a break from life at the Jedi Temple, Obi-Wan Kenobi and his apprentice, Anakin Skywalker, visit a Jedi AgriCorps settlement on the Midrim planet of Helia. There they encounter new friends, new enemies and have new adventures, all while attempting to navigate their sometimes turbulent relationship as Master and Padawan. ✦ The Moments That Time Remembered by CallToMuster, obi-wan & mace & vokara & bant & quinlan & garen & depa & jedi, 82.4k Obi-Wan’s first memory was not his own. Rather, it was a vision steeped in darkness and flashes of red and choking heat and you were my brother and the harsh crash of lightsabers striking one another. He woke up sobbing in the arms of the crèchemaster, Master Kitaddik, who was hushing him and gently stroking the top of his head with her furry hands. Obi-Wan hid his face in the soft folds of her tunic and, still crying, fell back asleep. The first time Obi-Wan collapsed due to a vision was not long after that. [Or: in all the various iterations of Obi-Wan Kenobi’s life, the Force spoke to him. But in this one, it never stopped.] ✦ Starrunner by orpheus_under_starlight, obi-wan & jedi & oc, 80.2k wip In what would have been the year 17 BBY, Supreme Chancellor Sheev Palpatine is found slumped over his desk, dead to rights and emitting a foul odor. The coroners declare the body victim to a heart attack and the smell a result of a lack of a timely embalming—a bit of bowels humor, the head coroner says with a nervous laugh when interviewed by the Galactic Enquirer.

MID-LENGTH: ✦ 飽了嗎? | Have you eaten your fill? by virdant, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & qui-gon & quinlan & yoda & dooku & mace & bant & jedi, 13k The Force is the first language that Obi-Wan learned to speak, the brush of one mind against another. But food is the second language that Obi-Wan learned to speak with, and he talks, he talks, he talks. A collection of fics about food and how food is an articulation of love. ✦ We Will Abide by naberiie, plo & shaak, 10.3k Light. Dark. Balance. Beneath the Jedi Temple, far below the chaos of Coruscant's Galactic City, ancient halls and corridors sleep in silent darkness. Padawans Shaak Ti and Plo Koon are determined to explore them. ✦ What Is My Heritage? by Marnie, qui-gon & yoda, 7.7k Qui-Gon, age 13, tries to find a place to belong. ✦ Coming Home by Marnie, qui-gon & yoda & dooku, 18.1k A story telling how Qui-Gon comes to be Dooku's apprentice. ✦ Master by CJinn, obi-wan & anakin, 27.5k Obi-Wan Kenobi had always wanted to become a Jedi Knight. What he didn't expect was to become a Master merely days after his own Master died. Adapting to his new role as the mentor and Master of the quite unusual Padawan Anakin Skywalker became a bumpy road.

✦ into the statue that breathes by spoonks, obi-wan & feemor & cin & cast, 8.5k The night watch in the garden was supposed to be the calmest of them all. No mischievous Padawans “sneaking” in or out, or ne’er-do-well civilians conducting “business” around the lower-level entrances that they didn’t know existed. No the gardens was still, and it was like time was frozen in ice that slowly melted away with the rising of the sun. A slow drip, drip— Drip. Immediately Feemor turned towards the central waterfall. Someone was standing there. Whoever they were, they were small and moved through katas with their hands open like a greeting. ✦ The Cave by Ria Talla (ronia), anakin & ahsoka & cast, time travel, 10k Ahsoka Tano, post-Star Wars Rebels/? And there was something else, more important, though Ahsoka found herself loath to do it. Her lightsabers drawn, deep in the labyrinth formed by the stone warriors and the crumbled temple. Yet the words broke certain into her mind. Your eyes can deceive you. Her heart pounded, as though warning her otherwise. But Ahsoka withdrew her sabers, and closed her eyes. Rather than her weapons, she let the Force be her light. ✦ A Candle in the Night by phoenixyfriend, anakin/luminara & obi-wan, time travel, 12k In which Luminara finds a heavily injured Jedi, nurses him back to health, and falls in love. Then they get back to the real world, and she just can't figure him out... ✦ Found Clan by silvergryphon, boba & ocs & obi-wan & anakin & cast, 25.3k wip After the Battle of Geonosis, a Jedi Healer discovers young Boba Fett mourning the loss of his father. Not about to leave a ten-year-old boy on his own, she promptly adopts him with the full collusion of her Padawan. ✦ the heart of kyber by outpastthemoat, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & depa & kanan & jedi, 32.7k Tales of the Jedi: Stories about lightsabers, masters, and apprentices. ✦ Stars of Tatooine by Be_Right_Back, ahsoka & mace & kanan & obi-wan & rex & cast, 10.5k After the end of the world, Ahsoka more or less kidnaps a child, has to air some old grievances, and tries to find whatever peace the universe can still offer. All paths in the Force lead home, eventually. ✦ The Uses of a Sandwich by Laura Kaye (laurakaye), obi-wan & qui-gon & yoda & cast, 17.6k A few months after being taken as a Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi faces a challenge: meeting his Master's first apprentice. ✦ Familes Found by fyrefly, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & padme & mace & plo, 8.2k In a universe where "The Wrong Jedi" never happened, the war ends under different circumstances and perhaps everyone will get a chance at a happy ending after all.

SHORT AND YET SO GOOD-LENGTH: ✦ The Mathematics of Repair by panharmonium, obi-wan & anakin & cast, 4.6k For raw teachers and rough-edged students building in the rubble: tiny steps are enough, provided they carry you in the right direction. Immediately post TPM, in short snippets. ✦ The Living Force; Parables for Padawans by glorious_clio, obi-wan & cast, 6.1k Since infancy, younglings are taught the Jedi Code, “Emotion, yet peace. Ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity. Chaos, yet harmony. Death, yet the Force.” Obi-Wan Kenobi learns these tenets backwards and forwards again. But even as a child, he is interested in nuance. And so his teachers tell him parables. ✦ A Jedi's Cloak ImperialKatwala, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & cody & rex, 6.4k Jedi cloaks are made for children. Obi-Wan Kenobi is a year and a half old when he first sees this principle in action. He is fourteen, twenty-five, twenty-nine, and thirty-six when he gets a reminder. Or: Jedi cloaks are weird. Here's a series of events showing why they're made that way. ✦ the master, the padawan, the Force by skatzaa, kanan & depa. 1.4k Caleb expects things to be different after Master Depa takes him as her padawan, but really, it feels like nothing really changes. ✦ For the Future of the Order by thetorontokid, obi-wan & qui-gon & cast, 3.9k There are important lessons to be found in the Jedi Temple creche.

✦ Memories of Peace by Margan, obi-wan & clones, 2k It's not quite flash training, but the Clones are used to learning fast. It helps that this is something that they actually look forward to learning, to putting into practice. Obi-Wan teaches the Clones how to make dumplings in the middle of war. ✦ Liberosis by Be_Right_Back, anakin & mace & yoda & jedi, 2.2k The war is over, the Sith are gone, and there is now Anakin Skywalker's secret marriage to deal with. While love is a wonderful thing, some truths are hard to face, and letting go is the destiny of all Jedi. Or: the Council and Anakin clash. It doesn't go as terribly as it could have. ✦ Accepting Emotion by LazarusII, obi-wan & ahsoka, 1.1k Dealing with the stress and anxiety of being a prospective Padawan, Ahsoka Tano struggles to manage her emotions. Obi-Wan Kenobi finds her practicing in the dojo, confidence in tatters. His words make all the difference. ✦ A Long, Long Time Ago by ruth baulding, dooku & qui-gon + qui-gon & obi-wan + obi-wan & anakin + anakin & ahsoka, 5.8k A wisdom tale handed passed down through the generations poses troublesome questions for a line of masters and Padawans, from Dooku to Ahsoka Tano.

✦ Duet by Silver Sky 1138, oc & cin, 2.3k Asha Scarsi, the Jedi Padawan who feels the Force through music, isn't half as good at lightsaber combat as she is at singing and mindtricks. So she's a little nervous when Battlemaster Cin Drallig calls her to the training room after class. ✦ The One Where Anakin Tries to Be Serious by GirlwithCurls98, anakin & ahsoka, 1k Even though they're fighting a war, Anakin finds the time to lead his apprentice through one of the Jedi's sacred ceremonies. ✦ Obi-Wan and the Force by AwayOHumanChild, obi-wan & cast, ~1k One of the first things Jedi Initiates learn is that everyone experiences the Force differently.

✦ Night Shift at the Temple by ReneeoftheStars, oc jedi & cast, 1.8k A Jedi Temple Guard sees all, speaks to few, and has attachments to no one. One must be prepared for any threats that may arise, especially at night, while most of the Temple sleeps. ✦ The Orchards by Raven_Knight, obi-wan & qui-gon & cast, 3.6k When young Obi-Wan Kenobi is injured on a previous mission, Qui-Gon Jinn refuses to accept further off-planet missions until his Padawan's recovery. Yoda assigns the pair an in-Temple mission of utmost importance while Obi-Wan heals. Master and Padawan welcome the change of pace. ✦ Tipping Point by Ria Talla (ronia), adi gallia & finis valorum & eeth koth, 3.3k "I believe that if what's happening on Naboo is allowed to continue, the other member systems will wonder what they owe to a Republic that can no longer protect them." ✦ A Personal Touch by DragonHoardsBooks, obi-wan & anakin, 6.2k New jedi padawan Anakin Skywalker realizes that there is more to being a jedi then he tought. Discovering a completely new culture will take time and effort, but maybe he'll make some friends along the way.

✦ Jedi Parables by Peppermint_Shamrock, jedi, 5.8k Values are often passed down generation to generation through stories, parables, and fables. What stories might the Jedi teach their children? ✦ Songs for Little Jedi by soft_but_gremlin, mace & jedi, ~1k The initiates are having nightmares, so Mace sings a lullaby to comfort them. ✦ a thin thread of hope by wrennette, shaak & clones, ~1k Shaak Ti introduces some cadets to one of her favourite crafts, under the guise of training. ✦ rah kat by js71, obi-wan & anakin & aayla, 1.6k "Aay’shee," Obi-Wan murmurs into her ear, rocking her gently, like when jaieh was off on a mission she couldn’t go on, so her jaieh-raheniel would take turns having her over at their apartments. ✦ Lessons on Attachment by Siri_Kenobi12, obi-wan & anakin/padme & cast, 2.7k "Anakin once told me that a Jedi is actually encouraged to love." She said after Obi-Wan had settled. ✦ Straw Dogs by Cymbidia, obi-wan & jedi & cast, 2.9k An old Jedi Master imparts some wisdom concerning Mercy, Balance, and the Will of the Force to young Padawan Obi-wan Kenobi and a gaggle of other younglings. It is a lesson that haunts Obi-wan for the rest of his life. ✦ Refractions of Light by Independence1776, ezra & kanan, 1.3k Kanan celebrates a Jedi holiday with Ezra.

✦ The grand outing by Ingata, dooku & sifo-dyas & obi-wan & bant & garen & reeft & yoda & cast, 4.5k Eight younglings and two Jedi masters on a field trip. What could possibly go wrong? ✦ A Short Break by Peppermint_Shamrock, luke & yoda, ~1k Luke complains about his training, and asks about Jedi training of old. ✦ we are made of our longest days by bereft_of_frogs, obi-wan & anakin & cast, 4.4k Two years after the events of The Phantom Menace, Obi-Wan and his new apprentice are called to a remote moon to fetch a baby who’s showing signs of a rare, unique power. On their journey home, Obi-Wan reflects on the last child he brought to the Temple and catches a faint glimpse of three possibly entwining futures. ✦ yellow, you're a dreamer by nightdotlight, jocasta & anakin (& obi-wan), 2.6k Normally, it wouldn’t be unusual, but— Jocasta did not earn her post without listening, and from where she stands in the aisle, gaze fixed upon the back of the young child’s shaking shoulders, she can hear a sniffle reverberate around the space. There’s a child curled up in the corner of the Archives— and they’re crying. ✦ once upon a time (a long, long time ago) by thebitterbeast, barriss & mace & shaak & ki-adi & bacara & trilla & cere, 2.3k The Jedi love children. Children love stories. This changes some things. ✦ not the place that I was born in (doesn't mean it's not the place where I belong) by ghostwriterofthemachine, obi-wan & anakin, 5k “What were you consulting Master Obi-Wan about?” “Tea!” says the other Padawan brightly. “I’m performing a tea ceremony for my Master, one that originates from her home world. It’ll be the first time I sit foveo with her!” She says that word— foveo— as if it should mean something to Anakin. It does not. ✦ A Friend Indeed by ExtraPenguin, plo & ahsoka, 3.3k After their rescue of the colonists of Kiros, Ahsoka Tano's Master asks for her to be sent on a mission away from the front. She ends up being sent to the Deep Core with Master Plo Koon to investigate one of the first known locations of the Jedi Order, since abandoned. ✦ In which we burn bodies as bridges by GraceEliz, obi-wan & ahsoka & depa & kanan & ezra, 1.4k Lineage mantras, and the processing of grief. ✦ Five Times Mace was There for Obi-Wan, and One Time Obi-Wan Returned the Favour by wrennette, obi-wan & mace, 4k five of the many times Mace Windu offered Obi-Wan comfort over the years, and one of the many times Obi-Wan returned the favour

✦ as the dust settled around us by thebitterbeast, finn & jedi, 5.2k Bravery has never been the absence of fear. Prompt: There is no emotion, there is peace. ✦ Adi Gallia, Master of the Order by Perspicacia, adi & jedi, 7.2k wip Palpatine didn't expect it. It was too soon for that in his plans: which Jedi would have left the Temple under assault? But Adi had. Ashes in her heart, she had left the younglings and the elders and the wounded for her duty to the galaxy, choosing to stop the Sith instead of protecting her people. ✦ “The Padawan Chooses The Master” by lurkingcrow, obi-wan & anakin & cast, 3.6k prompt: AU - The Jedi say “The Padawan Chooses The Master” Qui Gon lives, Obi Wan is very preoccupied, and Anakin is put into the creche as an Initiate to learn what he can until Qui Gon wakes up from his coma and gets yelled at by the Council. In the meantime, Anakin meets other Jedi Masters and when the Council asks him who he wants to be his teacher, his answer isn’t Qui Gon. Instead it’s *insert your fav Jedi here* ✦ The Only Home We Know by ReneeoftheStars, katooni & petro & ganodi & byph & gungi & zaft & cast, character death, child death, 2.4k The Jedi Temple is under attack. Determined to fight for their home, younglings Katooni, Petro, Zatt, Ganodi, Byph, and Gungi make their way to aid the Jedi Masters in defense of the Temple. But the situation is far graver than they expected. ✦ Obi-Wan and the Force by AwayOHumanChild, obi-wan & cast, ~1k One of the first things Jedi Initiates learn is that everyone experiences the Force differently. ✦ The One Where Anakin Tries to Be Serious by Mini_and_Might, anakin & ahsoka, 1k Even though they're fighting a war, Anakin finds the time to lead his apprentice through one of the Jedi's sacred ceremonies. Might become part of a series of missing scenes from the Clone Wars. ✦ Markings by wabbajack, ahsoka & plo, 1.6k In which it is revealed that Master Plo Koon has always had a difficult time putting his foot down when faced with his Little 'Soka. ✦ The First Trial by Raven_Knigh, obi-wan & qui-gon, 2k Accompanied by his Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, young Obi-Wan Kenobi undergoes his first trial and rite as a Padawan Learner on the frozen planet of Ilum.

✦ Arrival by CJinn, obi-wan & yoda & jedi, 2.6k Little Obi-Wan was only a few days old when he was brought to the Jedi Temple. His arrival caused some confusion among the Jedi. ✦ The Spire by skatzaa, obi-wan & jedi, 2.4k The galaxy was on the brink of war, and Obi-Wan Kenobi had been assigned a new room. ✦ Room Arrangements by skatzaa, obi-wan & anakin, 2.2k Anakin has some concerns about room arrangements at the Temple. Obi-Wan does his best to reassure him. ✦ Lineage by virdant, obi-wan & anakin & yoda & jedi, 1.5k Anakin is new to the temple, and he does not yet understand that these are his brothers and sisters, his cousins, his uncles and aunts. He does not know yet, but he will learn, Obi-Wan thinks. ✦ A Discussion of Choices by Peppermint_Shamrock, luke & mace, 2k Mace Windu has traveled the galaxy since the fall of the Republic, keeping out of the Empire's sight and teaching where he can. Upon the request of a ghost of an old friend, Mace finds himself instructing Luke Skywalker, who is still reeling from the truth of Vader's identity. ✦ Emotion is our Shared Tongue by virdant, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & quinlan & jedi, 2.1k There are thousands of different species, with different languages and voices and hands, but what all Jedi have in common is the Force, and with the Force, they have language. ✦ To Know by Armin_05, obi-wan & anakin & shmi & kitster & fives & cast, 4.8k Nearly all Jedi love learning. Anakin Skywalker is no different. Or, how Anakin found a love of learning and shared it with others. ✦ Shatterpoints and Students by soft_but_gremlin, mace & depa, ~1k Depa always has shatterpoints hovering around her.

✦ Home-onym by virdant, jedi, 1.1k Jedi younglings, like any other children, enjoy playing. Playing with lightsabers and playing with words. ✦ Threaded Lineage by Pandora151, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & kanan & ezra & luke & rey, 2.9k The journey of a single river stone through many generations of Jedi, allowing the Jedi of the old and the Jedi of the future to be threaded together. ✦ the river and the rock by nightdotlight, anakin & luminara, 1.8k Lightsabers clash, and Luminara Unduli holds her ground. She doesn’t move, doesn’t lock her muscles, just makes herself an immovable object and lets her opponent strain against the lock. ✦ Five Meditations of Jedi Depa Billaba by skatzaa, depa & mace & yoda & kanan & kit, 5.3k What is says on the tin. (Plus one more, for good measure.)

#lumi.txt #star wars #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #mace windu #depa billaba #count dooku #luke skywalker #kanan jarrus #qui gon jinn #luminara unduli #jedi order #fic recs #star wars fic recs #long post

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venus-haze · 5 months

Text

Power Play (Soldier Boy x Reader)

Summary: So, you lost focus and had a consensual workplace relationship. It happens all the time. Maybe not quite like this.

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. Crazy ass 80s Vought debauchery. I might be a little rusty, but it was fun getting back into writing readerfics after two months🖤 Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: Power imbalance, cheating (Soldier Boy’s with Crimson Countess). Mentions of drug use. Soldier Boy is his own warning. Sexually explicit content involving elements of forced intox, semi-public sex, breeding kink.

You were dizzy. With Vought’s investor gala rapidly approaching, you spent the better part of your day camped out in your office, flipping back and forth through your rolodex to call and confirm catering, entertainment—you still couldn’t believe the board of directors actually approved Duran Duran’s booking fee—and transportation, off the top of your head. You already told Stan Edgar you were taking the following week off, which he had no qualms about—so long as the gala went off without a hitch.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you were interrupted by a knock at your office door, which you’d left open in an effort to be available in the lead up to the event.

“Don’t tell me Edgar’s got you working tonight,” Soldier Boy said, walking in when he saw he had your attention.

“The most important night of the year is less than a week away and I still have a to-do list as long as your dick, so, yeah.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Must be pretty busy then.”

“How about you? Where’s Countess?” you asked.

Soldier Boy probably would have sought you out even if Crimson Countess were around, but from what you’d been hearing through Vought’s extensive grapevine, they were in yet another rough patch. Though, it seemed to you like their relationship was one long, extremely rough patch with some calm once in a blue moon. You weren’t afraid to admit to yourself that you ate up the gossip of their relationship like candy, especially when the other members of Payback—including Countess herself—would rant to Edgar about it. Since your office was right next to his, and most supes had little to no sense of subtlety, you could hear just about everything.

“She’s at one of those wildlife charity things, pandas or some bullshit.” He rolled his eyes. “Bitched at me because I wouldn’t go. She won’t be back until Friday.”

“Soldier Boy, I can’t just—“

“Sure you can. I mean, I’m technically your boss too, aren’t I?” he asked. “So, I say there’s no harm in taking a ten, fifteen minute break. Relieve some stress.”

You sighed. It had been a while since you actually got up from your desk. “Alright. Fifteen minutes, tops.”

He grinned. “Now we’re talking. You keep that minibar stocked?”

“Pick your poison.”

“Whiskey?”

“Sure.”

At least, you were pretty sure. The minibar in your office served as a nice gesture for the variety of people who’d come into your office for meetings related to all of the aspects of event planning you were in charge of. Over the past few weeks, though, you’d been reaching for bottles of whatever you could find to relieve the stress. Powdered your nose every so often, but tried not to make that a habit—not that you blamed your coworkers who did. Working at Vought was brutal and demanding, but hell, who else got to work with superheroes? Especially handsome, smarmy assholes who knew just how to fuck the lingering thoughts of any deadline or event planning out of your mind if you played your cards right.

He handed you a shot glass. “What should we toast to?”

“To taking next week off.”

“Yeah? What’ve you got planned?”

You threw back your shot. “Nothing.”

“That’s no fun. How does a few days in Miami sound?”

You nearly scoffed. Of course he could make something like that happen on such short notice. For forty years running he was America’s superhero and Vought’s cash cow. After a night of schmoozing at the investor gala, he could very well clear out his schedule and fuck off for a week of sun, sand, and sex, too.

“I might need some convincing.”

“Then make yourself comfortable,” he said, walking back to the minibar to pour another shot for each of you. Almost comical, he’d have to drink the whole bottle and then some to feel the same way you did after two shots.

You glanced at the open door. “Someone might see.”

“Are you gonna make me repeat myself?”

Sparing the door one more glance, you worked at unbuttoning your blouse, tossing it aside. You shimmied out of your skirt and let it fall to the floor.

“Heels stay on,” he said, his back to you. “Everything else off. Everything.”

With a hesitant huff, you unhooked your bra and pulled off your panties, throwing them in his direction when he turned around with the shot glasses. You made yourself comfortable on top of your desk, pushing some of your belongings aside to accommodate you.

He whistled lowly as you quickly finished off the second shot he gave you. “Look at you sitting pretty for me.” His green eyes burned a hole through you, though your gaze was fixed on the prominent bulge in his pants. He brought his shot glass to your lips. “Drink up, sweetheart.”

And you did, forcing the alcohol down as your vision blurred with tears at the unrelenting burning in the back of your throat. Felt some whiskey dripping from the corners of your mouth when you drained the shot glass. He collected the excess from your lips with his thumb, sucking it clean as he kept his eyes locked with yours.

“See how much fun we have together?” he asked, leaning over you until you laid back on top of your desk. “Could do that all next week.”

He kissed you, hard and mean like you needed him to. Perfect teeth that caught your bottom lip between them for a moment before releasing. Whiskey on his tongue that went to your head even though you knew he could hardly feel it. Rough hands feeling up your breasts, giving your nipples a harsh tug that made you moan in his mouth.

“You’re soaked,” he said, his voice husky as he rubbed his fingers between your slick folds with tantalizingly slow strokes. “If you wanted it, all you had to do was ask.”

“Fuck,” you whispered.

“What was that?”

You groaned in frustration. “Just fuck me already.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

His mouth was on yours again, nearly distracting you from the sound of a zipper, the your gut clenching in anticipation as he pulled his cock from his pants.

It’d been a while since you had to brace yourself to take him, but you were wet, and maybe a little more than tipsy, so your body gave little resistance when he slid his cock inside you. Though, if Soldier Boy were anything, it was a guy who took what he wanted anyway, giving you hardly a second to get used to the feeling of how his cock stretched your pussy before he was pounding into you with harsh, unforgiving thrusts that made you grip the edge of your desk.

Sometimes you forgot how strong he was. Hell, so did he, and there was little else you could do but lay there and take what he gave you. In all honesty, it was nice letting someone else take charge after having to hold it together all day. Let him fuck the stress out of you and replace it with all the aches and bruises that came with having sex with the strongest man on earth.

“Harder,” you forced out, pushing that damn rolodex onto the floor.

“I go any harder, I’m gonna break you in half, and I don’t wanna do that until I’ve got you locked away in a hotel room for a week.”

“What are you gonna do to me?”

“Whatever the fuck I want. Not like I don’t already.”

You moaned. “Soldier Boy—”

“I’m not pulling out, so you better be on the pill or say your damn prayers,” he growled, his hot breath kissing your skin. You were on the pill, but nevertheless your hips bucked at his words, pussy clenching around his cock. “Oh shit, you want that, don’t you?”

“Yes—oh my god!” you cried out, muscles cramping as your orgasm pulsed through you, pleasure stealing your breath, choking you gently enough to leave you dizzy. “Yesyesyes—fuck!” Your heart was beating so fast you thought it was going to explode in your chest, especially as he kept mercilessly pounding into you, chasing his own release.

He soon came with a groan, his cock twitching inside you as he bottomed out, practically knocking the wind out of you with a particularly hard thrust.

You felt empty and sticky when he pulled out, and you didn’t want to think about the poor soul who was gonna be cleaning the mess you and him left behind the following morning, because you sure as hell weren’t in any shape to clean up the cum that was leaking out of you and onto the floor.

You put your hands on your chest, trying to catch your breath as he stood over you. The guy hardly broke a sweat, and you felt like you just ran the New York City Marathon. Super stamina. God fucking bless America.

“Hey,” he said, waving his hand in front of your face. “You good?”

“Sure,” you managed to answer. “Except now I don’t know how I’m gonna walk out of here, let alone get home later.”

“The ride up to the 99th is quicker. And if you need more convincing about Miami—“

You pursed your lips, considering the work you still had left to do before you could reasonably call it a night. But you were tired, and admittedly drunk, and Soldier Boy was already hard again. “I might.”

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy the boys #the boys x reader #the boys #the boys amazon #the boys tv #the boys soldier boy #the boys imagine #soldier boy imagine #soldier boy smut #im a feminist i promise #but do you ever think about how that man could literally break you in half if he wanted to?

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pinkslaystation · 6 months

Text

Tulips or Roses?

John Price x reader

In which you find John's old diary detailing his love for you his teammate and you begin to question his love for you. Word Count: 3.6k -> blurb - rose meets tulips

Being a civilian to a soldier was hard enough.

And it was even harder when your husband was a commander for one of the most skillful task force. So it wasn't unusual for him to be gone for long periods of time.

So on a random Friday evening, anticipating his arrival in the coming week, vacuuming the floors, cleaning the windows, you found yourself at the door of John's study, with was decorated with a glass name plate, with the words 'Study' accompanied with a painted heart created from blue and pink fingerprints from you and your husband.

John was never the man to tell you off if you entered his study, instead he encouraged it. He's beckoned you to bring him his evening tea to him, to give him a massage, sometimes when you wanted him, he'd allow you to help him under the desk, if you get what I mean. (speaking from experience ;>)

As you stepped into his room, you noticed the ceilings adorned with sizable white cobwebs, cringing at the apparent neglect of his study. When was the last time someone had even been here?

Sweeping his desk, wiping away the dust, you find a box underneath beside his chair, which prompted you to lifting it up and placing on top of the desk. Man, you underestimated it's weight. You struggled to lift a small but heavy moving box, and it caused a few books and papers to fall out.

You cursed at your clumsiness, picking up the loose sheets, until you fingers caught the spine of a red vintage-like book, which had the word 'diary' written on the front. You didn't take too much notice, skimming through the pages until you caught your name being mentioned a phew times.

You giggle, it's a diary probably with John confessing his love to you numerous time! You know you probably shouldn't look through it, I mean privacy exists, but you just can't help it.

So you look through some of the infrequent entries, the oldest dating back to 10 years back, and the most recent one being nearly 4 years, when you and John had first met.

30th February 2010

Suffering in Afghanistan, the lads and I are stuck in the safe house for a week now. Rose is here too, I should ask her if she's okay.

Ahhh you remember this story. When the Task Force was stuck in the city of Kandahar, in the safe house. You also remember John's team, whom you are well-acquainted with, Soap, Ghost, Gaz, Roach, Rose?

You skip through the boring entries, most of which are just John documenting his work-out plan and the places him and his team had visited.

5th July 2016

Gaz's going on and on about his lass. Someone tell him to talk to her at least, he doesn't even know her name! I keep bringing it up but he keeps mentioning when I'll talk to Rose.

You chuckled, assuming the chick was Gaz's current wife. But the last part caught your attention, Rose again? You remember John telling you that she'd retired, went back north to settle with her family now, so you don't think much of it, I mean they are team mates.

19th June 2017

Saw a cute kid and her mama, wishing I had kids, without this lifestyle. Rose wants a son but I don't particularly mind. Soap overheard our conversation and spammed me lols on Whatsapp, but I thought lol meant little old lady? I am a man though.

You raise your eyebrow at another mention of Rose, why doesn't he care if Rose wanted a son? You didn't realise how close your husband was to her.

2nd December 2018

Christmas this month with my boys. Rose invited me over for a smoke. Ghost rolls his eyes when I mentioned it to him, says I need to man up and make a move.

You squinted your eyes, rereading the entry, and hesitantly skipping to the next one.

7th April 2019

Drinks with my men (and Rose haha, she doesn't like being part of the men). It's her birthday and she wants to tell us something. She's got her red lips again. I'm excited, Soap kept nudging me the entire ride, that cheeky bugger.

Then immediately below it, an update: She's seeing someone.

You're slowly piecing the puzzle, though you don't want to assume anything.

21st August 2019

She came into my room crying, seems like it's not going well, good for me. I hope she's okay and she realises there's better fish in the sea. She hugged me, she smells like roses, I love floral scents. I tried leaning in, she says I'm like an older brother to her.

Your heart breaks a bit, sniffing at your freshly washed hair, which smelt like ... like roses.

You thought floral scents were YOUR thing.

You continued, to the next entry which was marked the date you remember meeting John for the first time at the pub. You force a smile, hoping the entry would lighten your mood.

30th November 2020

In the pub and bored. Rose brought her lad... they're back together. What does she see in him? Soap urges me to find someone else but my heart is set on someone, for a long time. Won't change. He keeps gesturing to a girl on the other end of the counter, she's pretty, but like a tulip. Not like a rose. Not like my Rose.

You grip at the notebook and you try your hardest not to rip the papers out of the book and set his entire study on fire.

You remember this day, when you were dragged to the pub by your friends after being dumped by your ex for another girl. You sat at one end of the counter, with tears in your eyes but one look at that buff Englishman on the other end and your mood flipped instantaneously, 180 degrees.

"Kelsey, look at that guy, Mr Army over there." You beckon towards John's direction, to your friend., slightly tipsy after a peg of beer.

Your friend looks at you with a raised eyebrow, then turns to the guy whose piqued your interest, "You should go for it." She encourages you.

So you get yourself 2 drinks and approach the guy, more confident that usual due to your alcoholic state. A beer would do.

"Hi, this seat empty?" You smile at him innocently.

All this time you had recalled a look of fondness towards you, when he'd first locked eyes with you. You remember bragging about how it had been love at first sight for the both of you, but thinking back, a feeling of doubt starts bubbling inside you.

"It's reserve- you know what. Take a seat."

You remember sitting next to him, passing him a drink, and telling him your name, "...and you are?" you question, although you see him wincing. At first you thought it was just an army thing, so guarded that even the slightest of movements would make him twitch.

But now you're questioning whether he really wanted to engage into a conversation with you.

The following hours, as you painfully recall, was filled with you talking about yourself and occasionally asking him after his life, though he gives you one word answers and frequent nods.

But that was just because he'd just come home from a mission right?

"...and he just broke up with me out of the blue! Like was my 12,000 followers on TikTok not good enough for you?" You chuckle, attempting to crack a joke. He smiles confused, and you note he's probably too old to understand what TikTok was.

"Sounds like an asshole, love." He replies.

"Hmm, he was...I- I just don't know what he'd leave me for her...like I gave you my everything, I was always with you through thick and thin and what, that wasn't enough for you?" You trail off, the effects of the 2nd beer hitting you.

"I understand dove, you just give 'em everything and they just find someone else. What does he have that I don't?" He spaces out, his eyes falling on his teammates sitting at a different table. You follow his gaze, smiling slightly when you lock eyes with one of his smirking subordinates, whom you know know as Soap.

"Those people, they're your team?" You question.

His eyes aren't on you though as he responds, "That mohawk, that's Soap, Ghost next to him, tough as steel but soft at heart, Gaz on the opposite, funny lad, Roach, good ol' Roach..."

You look at the woman to the right of 'Roach', taking in her beauty. Though she's sitting down, you can tell she's taller that you by least 4 inches, with a blonde pixie haircut and painted with a dark smokey eye. A deep smirk is plastered onto her plump ruby red lips as she looks at John Price finally talking to a woman that isn't her. She raises a hand, waving to the both of you, which is almost instantaneously reciprocated by John.

"And her?" You ask, head nudging towards the woman.

"Her...That's Rose. You should meet her, you would like her, but who doesn't..." His chuckle fades out and you at how his attention was fully directed to her. A sinking feeling told you that you should have backed off from the married man, but it disappeared when John pointed out her partner, with gritted teeth.

Your hands are gripping the pages at this point, as you recall memories from the diary from his point of view.

You turn the page to the next entry, dreading the words.

19th December 2020

Thought me and Rose would go back to the pub for another drink for the holidays, but she's going back to his place. Seems they're taking the next steps with meeting the families.

Soap's annoyed at how I'm 'ghosting' the girl I met at the pub, I'm once again unfamiliar with the lingo, I'm not Simon?? She's nice but, not sure I see anything further than a friendship. Gaz and him are picking out an outfit for me, she wants to meet up for bowling apparently. I just want to be with Rose...

Clenching your fist, you shut the diary and toss it aside, feeling all kinds of emotions. Upset that John had never truly looked at you the way you'd looked at him. The way he never wanted you, like you wanted him.

Every time you'd seen him online on Whatsapp, but still hadn't opened your messages, he was ghosting you? Sure after a while of being friends, his behaviour gradually changed, accompanied with rapid texts, but you felt like this relationship was built on lies.

Did he even want to go bowling with you that day? Did you win because he purposely let you, because he was bored and wanted to go home, be with Rose instead? When he asked you to be his girlfriend, did he ask you with Rose in mind?

The ding of the oven stopped your trail of thoughts, so many questions swirling around your head. You walk out of the study, slamming the door behind you, the combined mess of dust and cobwebs remaining untouched.

The glass name plate falls to the ground, the edge shattering, with shards of clear glass laying dangerously on the wooden floor.

A couple of hours go by and the doorknob rattles at 8:45 P.M. on the dot. John was never late when he had to come home to you.

He reaches base at 7:30, drives exacting an hour to your shared home, after making a quick pit stop at the florists within 10 minutes to give you a freshly scented bouquet of red roses.

Roses. So that's why he'd give them you every time...

He makes sure to leave him 5 minutes of spare time, which was designated to flipping open a small metal notebook you'd gifted him, and writing his thoughts down. And once those 5 minutes were up, he places the notepad back into his jacket pocket and practically runs towards the front door.

"Dove, I'm home!" He exclaimed, gently placing his belonging on the floor, before walking into the living floor, where you sat on the sofa with your legs and arms crossed. (MY BITCH POSE IS NASTY)

"Sweetheart, you didn't run up to me at the door, you alright love?" He sits next to you, his calloused and freshly bruised arms rubbing your knee.

The silence was deafening and you couldn't find it in yourself to look at him after all you've read.

He takes it as a cue to continue, "I got you some roses, baby. Your favourite-"

"When did I say they were my favourite?"

John blinks at the interruption, "I mean, you don't like them? It's tradition to bring the same red roses for you every time I'm back..."

"And when did I say I liked them? Are they my favourite? Or are they her favourite?" You shift towards him, anger evident in your voice.

"Her? Who? Sweetheart, what's going on?"

"I mean, come on man, you like floral shit that much that now you're making me wear it?"

"You...don't like floral scents? Did you want tulips instead, baby?"

Your eyebrows are furrowed in annoyance by his confusion.

"It doesn't matter if I wanted tulips, John, it's the fact that YOU like roses. In fact you've like Roses this entire time! Don't act like you like tulips 'cos you don't- to be honest I don't think you ever have!" You rant, handing running through your hair.

"I mean I like both honey, roses are just, um, prettier?" He sounds like he's asking you rather than telling you.

"Of course roses are prettier to you- that's all that you're fucking used to you. It's always roses, roses, roses. You're so obsessed with fucking roses, you never gave tulips a bloody chance!"

"Are we still talking about flowers-"

"And when you do give tulips a chance, you're still thinking about roses- how red they are, how pretty they are, how they need to be watered every 5 fucking minutes, even then there's already someone to water those damn. Red. Roses."

"I- I mean I like tulips too, baby-"

"No. You don't. No, you don't. Tulips are just the safest options for you, cos someone already plucked out those fucking roses. Cos roses don't want you."

You're standing up now, and John's attempts to speak are futile with every sentence you shout.

"No. In fact, roses has never wanted you, roses look better with someone else, and ol' poor John has no more roses, so he goes and waters some unwanted tulips instead!"

John stands up, towering over your shaking frame, his hands come up to stroke your biceps, but he's pushed away.

"I mean, did John ever even like tulips? Or was he faking it cos he never got roses? Was tulips just the safe option? Does John still want roses after all the years tulips have been there for him?"

You left out a pained cry, you didn't even notice the tears leaking out of your eyes.

"Does John even like tulips? Does John even love tulips?"

His hands wipe your tears away, and he brings you into his chest, and you don't attempt to push him away this time.

"Does you even love me, John?" You break down into his arms, letting him carrying you into the bedroom, where he places you gently on the bed, while you hiccup through your uneven sobs. He smells the stench of wine through your shaking breath, whilst stroking your hair, and you slowly fall into a deep slumber with your head pressed against his still uniform-clad chest.

The clock hits midnight and John gets up, trying not to wake you up, grabbing his sweats from the drawer and walking to the bathroom across the hall, in order to not wake you up, from what looked like a well-needed rest.

As he trudges out of the bedroom and through the corridor, the reflection of the broken glass catches his eyes and he squints in the darkness, squatting down to pick a small shard. As he lifts the remains of the nameplate, hooking it back to the door, he steps over the mess into the study to retrieve a dust pan and brush.

Flicking the lights on, he's met with what looks like a scene from the reality TV show - Hoarders. So starts cleaning quickly, picking up the duster and bunching up the paperwork from the floor, the pot of pens that had seemed to be knocked down, the diary he'd used to write in...hold on-

Picking up the diary, John flicks through the entries, the book naturally opening to the last open slide.

He begins reading the last entry.

19th December 2020

Thought me and Rose would go back to the pub for another drink for the holidays, but she's going back to his place. Seems they're taking the next steps with meeting the families.

Soap's annoyed at how I'm 'ghosting' the girl I met at the pub....

"Oh...my tulip, I've never loved roses as much as I loved you." He mumbles to himself, whilst simultaneously cringing at his previously written words, immediately throwing the book back on the floor.

It's past breakfast when you wake up, throat and eyes painfully dry from last night's crying session, forcing yourself to drag yourself to the bathroom. You've forgotten that John had come home last night, as your met with a familiar empty bed.

After brushing your teeth and washing your face, you walk downstairs, being face to face with the naked back of Captain John Price.

The smell of chocolate pancakes waft towards your nose, as you look around the kitchen, the room garnished with a variety of different flowered bouquets, with so many variations of plants.

Bundles of dahlias and lotuses, orchids and lilies, carnations and irises, roses and tulips.

John turns to your footsteps, smiling at his perfect woman.

"Baby, good mornin'" He greets you, placing a single rose into your hair, and pecking your forehead warmly.

"John, listen about last night-"

"It was the old diary, wasn't it?" he asks.

You nod, ashamed for your abrupt behaviour yesterday. John lifts your chin up, resting his forehead against yours.

"Rose never taught me how to love like you did."

"John, you don-" His pointer finger is pressed against your lips.

"Reading those words from the past, I can see how it may have painted a different picture of my feelings. But let me assure you, my love, that you are the one I adore with all my heart."

Your stroke his face, heart warming to his words.

"Every rose I brought home was a symbol of my love for you, not because it was her favorite, but because it reminded me of the beauty and grace that you bring into my life. And those tulips, they represent the new beginnings and the fresh start that we share together.

My love for you is unwavering and unconditional. You are my tulip, my true love, and I vow to cherish and adore you for all eternity. Please forgive me for any pain or doubt my past words may have caused."

"John..."

He hands you his notepad from from his back pocket, beckoning you to open it.

You look at the first entry.

19th February 2021

I mentioned how I journal sometimes to her, and she bought me a new notepad, it's cute how she calls it a diary. Things are looking good. Bowling's our thing, I let her win because seeing her smile means I've won too. I'm asking her out tonight, Soap cried real tears when I told him.

You turn the page.

20th July 2021

Our 6 month anniversary. Took her to a field of roses and tulips, though nothing compares to her beauty.

The next one.

17th September 2021

I seldom think of Rose, I have my tulip on my mind now. Rose retired, and the team celebrated last night. She hugged me and thanked me for being a good captain. She also acknowledged my previous feelings for her. Man that was uncomfortable, but I reassured her I'm with my tulip now. I love my tulip.

I've always preferred tulips anyway.

And the next.

5th July 2022

Our 500 day anniversary. I want to propose.

17th September 2022

She said yes!! She may be my fiance, but I've already started calling her my wife, not legally yet at least...illegally?

28rd December 2023

We married 30th November. The day we met. Xmas was amazing, I can't see myself with anyone but her. I'm getting deployed tomorrow though.

You look at the most recent entry, dated last night.

16th February 2024

Missed the valentines day with my missus. Hope these roses are enough, though I wanted to get something better. Tulips for my tulip. They ran out haha. Missed my girl, missed her like I've never missed someone before. Soap's right, deployment suck.

Tears welled up in your eyes, not from pain or doubt this time, but from overwhelming joy and love for the man standing before you.

"I'm sorry, John," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "I didn't mean to doubt your love."

He smiled, a genuine and heartfelt smile that reached his eyes, pulling you into a warm embrace. "No need for apologies, my tulip. Thank you for teaching me how to love."

And in that moment, amidst the scent of chocolate pancakes and fresh flowers, it felt like you love story was just beginning, filled with trust, forgiveness, and a deep, unwavering love for each other.

That should not have taken me 2 days to complete what in the world. Also if i was tulip, that old diary is going straight into a fire! Barbecue anyone? <3 Quick Notes: I head-cannoned Rose to look like Sergeant Calhoun from Fix-it-Felix lolololol woman crush fr i get u john boy I've decided to start a tag list! -> lemme know you're interested to be tagged in my future posts! tags -> @lilliumrorum

#call of duty #cod #john price #john price x reader #captain john price #john price angst #john price fluff #task force 141 #captain price

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buckyalpine · 7 months

Text

Did You Hear

Fluffyy crack fic and nothing else. Imagine Tony Stark's shy new assistant sitting at the kitchen island for breakfast, getting a cup of tea before heading to the lab. She's sipping from her steaming mug when a very pretty super solider walks in from his run and the heat rising in her cheeks isn't from the hot Earl Grey.

"Mornin' y/n" He gives you a polite smile while he makes his way to the fridge and you had to silence the squeak that nearly escapes your lips. He's in a pair of snug grey sweats which are resting sinfully low on his hips and his tight black t-shit showing off every divot and curve of muscle on his torso. You bite you lip as he bends down to grab a cold bottle of water, silencing a squeal with a sip of tea.

"Morning, Sergeant" You give him a smile and the lopsided grin he gives you as he goes on about his day leaves you giggling and kicking your feet. You were just about finished your cup when Nat walked in next, looking you up and down with a shake of her head.

"Bucky was here, wasn't he" She playfully rolled her eyes knowing the effect the brunette had on you. "What happened this time"

"Bucky has a cute butt" You giggled, while Nat snorted at your flustered state. "And slutty thighs"

"Do you ever plan on actually telling him"

"No!" You vigorously shook your head. That was out of the question for you; you were happy to admire the soldier from afar. The last thing he'd want is to have to deal with is the playground crush you had on him anyway, it was a miracle he even noticed you. "He doesn't even see me that way"

"Well, guess we'll never know" She sassed as you slipped off the stool to make your way to the lab.

"I'm happy to admire God's work from a safe distance!" You called over your shoulder while Nat shook her head, smirking to a third person you didn't see who was lingering near the kitchen, very happy to listen intently to the conversation that was taking place.

The one that was supposed to be a secret from Bucky's ears.

That wouldn't do.

"Did you hear?" Sam grinned, sauntering over where Bucky was sparring with Steve, both men panting after already going for a few rounds. "Word on the street is you have a cute butt"

"What" Bucky deadpanned while Steve smirked, watching the heat in his friends cheeks already starting to creep up to his ears.

"Mhm, that little tush of yours has been getting a lot of attention lately"

"From who" Bucky's face scrunched up in confusion, frowning when Sam cackled, clapping his shoulder.

"Tony's cute lil assistant" He says with a wink, noting the immediate change in Bucky's demeanor, his frown falling off his face, replaced with a very pink blush.

"You mean y/n?"

"Uh huh. Must've been those slutty grey sweats you've been running around in"

"Slutty?"

"Extremely. Especially with those thighs"

"And how do you know this" Bucky struggled to bite back a smile, not wanting to get his hopes up until he was sure. "There's no way she-

"Heard her talking to Nat this morning. She sounded real excited after seeing you and your cute butt" Sam gave him a swat causing him to yelp.

"Hm. Interesting" The soldier nodded already looking towards the showers so he could rinse off and find you.

"Yeah, yeah, go find your girl" Steve shoved Bucky off the mat with a grin. Bucky jogged off to the lab right after a shower, purposely throwing on a new pair of his snug joggers. He smirked as he walked in seeing you fully focused on a small creation Tony created, tinkering away without noticing him.

"Hey doll"

"Ser-sergeant!" You squeaked in surprise as he strode inside, dropping the gadget you were working on, "What can I help you with"

"Sam told me something earlier", Bucky shrugged casually while you stayed frozen in your seat, your heart rate picking up the closer he got. "Was wonderin' if you knew anything about it"

"What's-what's that" You fidgeted nervously, his baby blues staring at you intently, loving how flustered you looked.

"Someone said something about me having a cute butt"

"Oh" You looked like deer in headlights, wishing the ground would swallow you whole.

"Oh?" Bucky smirked while you hid your face in your hands, ready to sink to the floor and hide under the table, he must have thought you were such a pervert. "And something about slutty thighs-

"Not just your butt! All-all of you is cute all over" You squeaked out before slapping a hand over your mouth realizing you were making it worse.

"All of me, huh" Bucky pried your hand away from your face, cupping your cheek instead, the cool metal of his arm soothing your hot skin. "So you do think I have a cute butt and slutty thighs"

His thumb came up to pull your bottom lip away from where it was caught between your teeth, smiling at the little nod you gave him, too scared to open your mouth.

"Well I'm glad"

"Y-you are?" You shyly whispered, nearly whining when he brought his other hand to hold your face gently, his lips brushing against yours.

"Mhm, means I can do this" You went limp in his hold, every muscle in your body turning into mush as he kissed your lips sweetly, the gentle peck feeling like he'd stolen your breath away. "Don't faint on me sweets" Bucky chuckled as he pulled away, seeing the dazed look on your face.

"Such a cute butt" You whispered to yourself, eyes growing wide when you realized you said that out loud. You buried yourself in his chest making Bucky grin, kissing the top of your head.

"Want to grab coffee with my cute butt?" Bucky tipped your chin up to look at him, "I'll even bring my slutty thighs" He threw in with a wink.

"Promise?" You giggled while he slipped in his hand in yours, leading you towards the door.

"Scouts honor, doll"

2K notes · View notes

wildwestdean · 7 months

Text

sweet and sour

summary: when you get back home after drinking a little too much, a sweeter side of ben slips out to take care of you. though you quickly learn that with him, you can't have any sweet without a little sour

pairing: soldier boy x female reader

word count: 3.2k+

warnings: some (mainly) ooc ben, swearing, depictions of alcohol consumption, drunk reader, angst, mentions of drug use, allusions to past sexual behaviours, fluff, hurt/comfort, nicknames/pet names

a/n: okay so i haven't actually made it to soldier boy's appearance in the boys yet, but i had a burning desire to write for him anyway. so yeah just don't judge pls lol

“What the fuck are you doing?” boomed a voice from behind you.

You jumped slightly at the sudden noise, but turned with a grin upon recognizing whose voice it was.

“Ben!” you giggled, meeting his confused gaze with bright eyes as you slightly swayed on your feet. “What’re you doing?”

He raised an eyebrow at you, trying to fight off the smirk forming on his lips as he ignored your question. “Looks like you had a good time out, huh, sweetheart?”

You couldn’t help the heat that rose to your cheeks at the term of endearment, or the string of giggles that left your lips. It wasn’t anything you weren’t used to, but it never failed to make you giddy - especially now. “I did!” you announced, before a frown suddenly took over your face as you remembered why you were in the kitchen “But now I want another drink, and I can’t find anythin’.”

Ben just stared at you for a moment, taking in your rosey cheeks and glossy eyes; but most importantly, the frown that currently adorned your adorable face. He would never admit it, not even to himself, but he suddenly wanted nothing more than for that frown to disappear.

“Alright,” he sighed, heading over to you. “What do you want?”

You watched as he approached, taking in his more casual appearance of a t-shirt and sweats - and, you noticed with a shy grin, a pair of old man slippers. He came to a stop just before you, and you paused as you stared up at his stoic face while he towered over you. You didn’t even hear his question, too distracted by his overwhelming everything to even realize he asked something.

He softly called your name to rouse you from your stupor, repeating it a little more gruffly when it didn’t work the first time. “What?” you asked, blinking up at his annoyed yet smirking face.

“I asked you what you wanted,” he murmured.

“Oh,” you said, your face scrunching together as you thought about it for a few moments. “I dunno,” you determined with a shrug.

“And you expect me to find something for you?” he asked curtly, his brows rising in disbelief.

Your brow unfurrowed as you grinned up at him. “Yes, please!” you declared eagerly, oblivious to the fact that he did not want to cater to you.

He clenched his jaw, extremely irritated with his urge to smile at the sight of your cheesy grin. “Fucking-” he started, before he cut himself off with a long sigh, rolling his eyes. “Alright, fine. Just go sit down or something.”

“Why?” you asked sadly, the frown taking over your face again.

“Why?” he echoed incredulously. “When I came in, you were trying to find a drink while just staring at the fucking glassware for over a minute. That’s why.”

“Were you watchin’ me?” you asked smugly, smirking up at him. “Besides, that doesn’t mean I can’t help find a drink!” you argued, completely missing his point.

His blank expression faltered for a second, a flash of colour fleeting across his face so quick it may as well have never been there. Then he simply barked a laugh, which only deepened your frown. “I bet you wish I was, huh? And you know, that's actually exactly what it means, dollface,” he chuckled darkly, tracing his knuckles along your cheek before suddenly grabbing you by the waist and hoisting you up onto the counter. “So sit this one out,” he said, ignoring your shriek of shock and protest.

“Fine,” you grumbled, completely bewildered by the ease in which he manoeuvred you; as if it cost him zero effort. Which, of course, you knew to be true.

“Good,” he said, smiling in satisfaction before ghosting a kiss against your forehead. “Now don’t fuckin’ fall off,” he warned as he walked over to the coffee machine.

You watched him in confusion, your swirling brain trying to figure out why he was suddenly so much more affectionate with you. You were used to him teasing you, or returning your flirtations and banter, though this felt like more than that. Maybe he was just being extra nice since you were drunk. Or maybe you only thought he was being extra nice because, well, you were drunk.

“Okay, knock it off,” he demanded, glancing over at you. “Why are you so frowny? I thought you liked your stupid girls’ night thing,” he added, leaning against the island with his arms crossed.

“I do like my girls' nights! And I’m not frowny” you grumbled, almost offended he would suggest otherwise.

“No?” he challenged, arching a brow as he took a few steps towards you. “‘Cause last I checked, this wasn’t your pretty smile,” he teased, tracing a thumb against your persistently downturned lips. Your smile naturally grew at that, and he beamed in response. “There’s my girl.”

Your eyes widened at his words, and your reaction must have made Ben realize what he was doing. With slightly widened eyes of his own, he dropped his hand from your face as if burned and turned away from you once more, busying himself with making your coffee - exactly the way you liked it.

You watched in silence, your feet softly swaying against the lower cabinets as your mind drifted in and out. “You don’t have any company tonight?” you found yourself asking suddenly.

“Think I’d be in here doing this if I had fucking company?” he asked hotly. “And I’m pretty sure you know when the last time I had company was,” he added bitterly.

Through all the months of you living with Ben, you had noticed when his parade of bed warmers had started to dwindle down; and you had definitely noticed when it stopped altogether. Part of you likes to wish you had something to do with it, while the other part knew that was insane.

“Okay, grouchy,” you scolded with a chuckle. “Don’t act like it’s my fault.”

“When the fuck did I act like it was your fault?” he snapped, growing exasperated.

“Are you almost done?” you asked brazenly, ignoring his question. “I’m thirsty.”

“Coming right up, princess,” he sneered.

You knew it was meant in a derogatory way based on his tone, yet you couldn’t help the warm tingle that spread through you anyway.

“Here,” he grunted after a few minutes, nearly shoving the mug at you. He raised his eyebrows impatiently when all you did was stare down at it. “I better not have made this for nothing,” he warned.

You gingerly took it from his hands, staring at it as if it was a foreign object; because, with a fluttering heart, you realized that he gave you your favourite mug - though you knew it was probably just a coincidence.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, grinning softly at him before taking a sip.

“Whatever,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes as he hastily turned his back on you once more.

“You seem extra grumpy tonight,” you pointed out, watching him intently as you happily sipped away.

“Who fucking cares?” he grumbled, keeping his attention off you as he made himself a drink - a strong one. He had a sinking feeling that if he looked at you he’d feel all warm inside again, and he refused to let that happen. “Besides. Maybe me being extra grumpy has to do with the drunk girl currently sitting on my counter.”

“Oh,” you said meekly. “I’m bothering you?”

“You always fucking bother me,” he mumbled, slamming the bottle down.

“I don’t mean to,” you assured quietly, your vision growing blurry with unshed tears. “I thought we’ve been getting along,” you added sadly.

“Me putting up with you isn’t us getting along, dollface,” he sneered.

You inhaled sharply at his declaration, your tears finally breaking loose and running down your face. “I can just leave you alone, then,” you offered, your voice a mere whisper.

Ben made the mistake of glancing over at you, and the pang of guilt he felt inside his chest really pissed him off. He begrudgingly made his way over to you, standing between your swaying legs as he tried to meet your gaze - but you refused to acknowledge his presence.

“Look at me,” he ordered, placing a hand on your chin to force your gaze on him.

“No,” you said, closing your eyes.

He let out an honest chuckle at your stubbornness, and if you had been able to see him, you would’ve noticed his eyes sparkle with affection. “Look at me,” he said again, much softer this time as his thumbs wiped away your tears.

You let out a resigned breath, slowly looking up at him.

“There she is,” he cooed, a small smile growing on his face. “Hey, darlin’.”

“Hi,” you replied solemnly, your face scrunching ever so slightly in confusion over the interaction.

He didn’t speak for a while. Instead he just stood there, staring at you with your face in his hands as he tried to figure out what the hell to say next.

“Look, just- stop crying, alright?” he said awkwardly, almost nervously.

“Is that your idea of being comforting?” you asked dejectedly, almost laughing in disbelief.

His grip on your cheeks tightened ever so slightly for a fraction of a second, before loosening again. “You and I both know that offering comfort isn’t my thing.”

“You could at least try,” you muttered snidely. “I’m tired of being the only one of us who tries.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” he snapped, letting you go and taking a step back in order to glare at you.

You scoffed, frustratingly swiping away angry tears that began to stream down your face. “It doesn’t matter.”

A heavy silence blanketed the two of you, and you picked up your mug to idly sip at it once more as he stared you down. He suddenly let out a frustrated huff, swearing and muttering under his breath as he turned away from you and grabbed his glass. With disbelieving eyes, you watched as he left the kitchen without a second glance. You weren’t a stranger to arguments with Ben, but this time, it felt different.

You stayed where you were perched, silently finishing your coffee and trying to make sense of everything that happened. You worked yourself back up into another frenzy as you thought everything over, and by the time your mug was empty you slammed it onto the counter with so much force you were surprised it didn’t break. Hopping off the counter, you began to stumble your way to your bedroom while angrily grumbling to yourself. A new inferno was set alight within you when along the way you came across Ben, nonchalantly lounging in the den as if nothing ever even happened.

“How many fucking times do I have to tell you not to do that inside?” you snapped, watching in growing contemptment as he merely glanced in your direction before turning his attention elsewhere, smoke billowing over his face.

“Tell you what, princess,” he muttered, taking another long drag from the joint he held. “I’ll stop smokin’ inside, as soon as you start payin’ for this fucking place.”

Without so much as giving it a second thought, you marched over to him and ripped the joint from his hands. He raised an eyebrow as he watched you with curiosity, a smirk already forming on his lips.

“I said,” you seethed, grabbing the ashtray from the side table as you stared him down. “Stop.”

He stayed silent, watching as you crushed the joint in the tray before tossing it back on the table with a clang. The corners of his mouth twitched as he fought back an amused grin before he steeled himself.

“I’ll go ahead and give you ten seconds to leave,” he announced calmly, though you knew him well enough by now to notice the hint of warning in his tone.

“Or what?” you challenged, stubbornly crossing your arms.

Normally, you knew when to stop trying to push his buttons, but you had just enough alcohol still coursing through you to keep on going this time.

He leaned forward, his presence completely imposing despite the fact he was sitting and you were standing over him. “Do you really want to find out?”

You shifted nervously as you took in his expression, and you knew he was both pissed off and annoyed; then again, it was rare that he wasn’t.

“Whatever,” you finally muttered, turning away to leave.

It wasn’t due to you being afraid of him - yes, he was intimidating as all hell, but he had never once actually physically hurt you. Despite the many times the urge struck him, and no matter how much he despised it, he quickly learned that you’re the one person he could never lay a harmful hand on. No, you simply left because you were growing exhausted over this whole night, and you just wanted some peace and quiet.

“Thought so,” he grumbled behind your back, snickering as you momentarily stopped in your tracks.

“Oh, just go to hell, Benjamin!” you exclaimed, whipping the closest thing you could grab towards his head.

He caught it easily, laughing heartily when he realized what it was. “Thanks, doll. This is just what I needed,” he teased with a grin, rattling the pill bottle as he held it in the air for you to see. “It’s the only way I can fuckin’ put up with you.”

You stared at him carefully, and you could tell just by the look in his eyes that he only said it to get another rise out of you, but you couldn’t help the way your bottom lip trembled as you fought back more tears.

His face instantly fell as he noticed your reaction, and while it was his intention, he instantly regretted it. With a heavy sigh, he tossed the bottle aside and stood up.

“What are you-” you began to ask as he made his way over to you, but he cut you off.

“Just shut up for once,” he muttered, a trace of a lighthearted chuckle in his voice as he shook his head.

You opened your mouth to fire off more insults when he shocked all the words out of your vocabulary by wrapping his arms around you. He rested his chin on the top of your head, and even though you felt insurmountable anger towards him, you quickly found yourself melting into his touch, your arms tightening around his torso. A few moments passed by before he let out a small sigh, his fingers tracing a feather-light pattern along your back; a gentleness neither of you knew he was even capable of.

“Look, I-... I didn’t… mean it,” he finally said. His tone was tight and awkward, and you knew it was a near impossible thing for him to actually admit. Honestly, hearing those words from him was nothing short of a miracle.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, knowing this was the closest you would ever get to an apology from him.

“How about we get you to bed, huh?” he asked lightly, trying to diffuse the situation.

“Yeah,” you said, pulling away from him. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

You quickly left before he could respond, making it to your bedroom and locking yourself away in the bathroom to get ready. You took your time, carefully scrubbing away all the traces of the club, and the rest of the night, that you could before slipping into your night clothes.

The first thing your bleary eyes noticed when you reentered your bedroom was Ben, paused in the middle of your room with a glass of water in his hand.

“What are you doing?” you asked curiously, rubbing at your tired eyes.

He let out a heavy exhale, looking at you with an expression you’ve never seen on him before. “Was just… bringing this to leave for you."

“Thanks,” you replied awkwardly, meeting him halfway to take the glass from him.

He stared at you for a moment, watching as you made your way to the bed and under the covers. He wanted to say something, but he wasn’t sure what.

“I’ve been trying, you know,” he suddenly grumbled, unable to take the tense silence any longer.

“What?” you wondered aloud, glancing over at him.

His face was scrunched in concentration as he stared at something straight ahead, unable to bring himself to meet your gaze. “With you. To be… I don’t know… better.”

His words took you by surprise, and you felt a little guilty for making him think you never noticed. “I know that,” you admitted softly.

“I don’t think you do,” he quipped, his voice more aggressive than he meant it to be. “You bother me all the fucking time.”

“You know-” you began to argue, anger starting to simmer deep within your bones again.

“Stop,” he all but growled, holding up a hand. “Just fucking listen for once.”

You glowered at him, folding your arms as you sank further under the covers, as if seeking some kind of protection, while waiting for him to continue.

It took him a while to speak up again, and you almost thought he’d never continue, but he hesitantly explained himself. “You bother me… because you make me different.”

“What do you mean?” you asked tentatively.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, chuckling humourlessly. “I’m a dick. I don’t care that I’m a dick. But you- I’m around you, and I want to be less…” he trailed off with a sigh, unsure of how to go on.

“Less dickish?” you offered, fighting off a smile.

“Yeah,” he agreed, awkwardly clearing his throat. “Yeah, I guess so.”

You hummed thoughtfully, thinking over your response. “In case you haven’t noticed, you don’t exactly send me running for the hills, Ben.”

“I know that,” he said passively. “I just… I don’t know. Don’t think that I don’t try.”

He finally turned to look at you, and you could see the pleading in his eyes; the hurt. You sighed in defeat, sitting up and gesturing for him to take up the space beside you. He hesitated, raising a brow in contemplation before making his way over. You peeled back the covers for him, and he carefully slid in; cautious, as though he thought it was a trap.

Neither of you were sure what to do next, and after a few minutes of awkward silence, you laid down to settle in for some sleep. Ben followed suit, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you in close; you instinctively nestled against him, relishing in the warmth he provided.

“I hope you don’t think I’m drunk enough to forget that you were actually sweet tonight,” you said suddenly, your voice a playful whisper.

He let out a chuckle, his chest rumbling beneath your cheek and forcing a small giggle from you.

“Just don’t expect it all the time,” he declared, a playful undertone in his voice as well. “I’m mostly sour.”

Though despite his declaration, his grip tightened to pull you in a little closer.

“Well,” you said, closing your eyes and relaxing against him. “Sweet and sour does happen to be my favourite combination.”

“And thank Christ for that,” he muttered, more to himself than anything.

You smiled to yourself, hearing his words despite them sounding far away. You had a fleeting intent to respond, but your mind grew too heavy, and you quickly fell asleep to the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your head - though, not before you felt him placing a lingering kiss to your hairline, paired with a murmured goodnight, sweetheart.

tagging: @roseblue373

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy fic #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy fluff #soldier boy angst #jensen ackles #jensen ackles soldier boy #the boys tv #the boys #the boys series #soldier boy the boys

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 7 months

Text

It's a Match! || 141 x Reader

[ Chapter 11 ] || [ Chapter 13 ]

Pairing: Gaz x Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.4K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: i'm in love with gaz x2 date scene fully inspired by this artwork by @mindie-arts

Chapter 12: A Date?

Sitting across from Gaz in the warm japanese restaurant under a warm-toned lamp, you find yourself a bit flustered by how cute he looks.

Sure, you knew he was cute, of course… His pictures on Tinder more than showed it. He’s the epitome of a pretty boy, all polite and sweet, smiling bright, with those warm brown eyes that look more like pools of melted chocolate that you could find yourself sinking into like quicksand.

He ordered extra meat for himself and is currently scooping it into his bowl of Tonkotsu Ramen as you regale him with your tales of your night with Simon.

“Now, hold on-” He stopped you just as you were biting into your jammy soft-boiled egg.

“Hm?” You questioned as you cocked a brow.

“So… Let me get this straight-” He said as he slowly stirred the slices of pork in the hot broth of his ramen. “You and Ghost didn’t-” He trailed off.

“No!!! I already told you!” You replied as you shoved the rest of your halved egg into your mouth and chewed.

“Hm…” Kyle replied with a bit of an awkward smile as he started softly slurping his noodles.

“Why, ‘Hm’? What does that mean?” You asked him with a cocked brow. Kyle simply shook his head and wiped his mouth with a napkin.

“I just think it’s… curious.” He admitted and shrugged. “Like… Simon is very secretive.” He explained.

“I’ve gotten that impression off him.” You replied, but Kyle nodded.

“Yeah but for a stranger, it’s easy to spot that, to understand it. But… We’ve all served with him for years now and we know nothing of him.” He explained with a shrug and an awkward smile again.

As you heard him talk, you slurped your noodles as well, holding the bowl up to your mouth as you did so.

“Soap even gasped when he found out that Ghost had a Tinder account, and the way he was chatting when he went on a date with you, well…” He trailed off and took a bite of one of his eggs as well.

“I wouldn’t call it a date.” You replied as you set down your bowl and took a sip of your drink. Across from you, Gaz did the same, sipping from his Stella Artois glass.

“You met on a dating app, had drinks, went back to yours, spent the night together… That’s a date.” He retorted and you nod your head, conceding to his point.

“Fine… I guess…” You sighed. “But I still don’t see what the big deal is.” You added. “He seems… nice. A bit weird… But nice.” You explained. “He seems like he just… needs a break.” You added and half-shrugged.

Kyle’s head dipped a bit to the side and he regarded you with gentler, softer eyes, quietly contemplating what you said.

“You’re really nice.” He ended up saying after a moment then he pressed his lips together for a moment as he watched you eat.

“Fanks.” You mumbled halfway through chewing a piece of your pork slices.

“Simon was there, you know… When you went to meet Captain Price. Just to make sure you were, you know… Normal.” Gaz quipped, which caused your eyes to widen.

“He was?” You asked sharply, your voice rising an octave for a moment.

“Ye… He… He doesn’t trust easy.” He replied.

“I’ve noticed.” You added, still a bit put off by the news.

“Well, anyway…” He trailed off. “He uh… he came back to base after you and him left the pub and he told us you were nice, normal…” He explained. “And he said that the captain was a bit reticent to be there and you were both feeling awkward… And you so sincerely told him he could leave if he wanted to and that he didn’t need to force himself to be there.” Gaz explained.

Your eyes widened a bit and your face warmed up lightly as he revealed that he knew of how you had reassured John.

“So… I guess… I guess I see it now.” Kyle admitted. “You’re very… gentle.” He ended up after searching for the right word. “A right laugh, funny as fuck, very bratty… But… nice and kind.” He added. “It’s no wonder they both felt good with you, especially Ghost.”

“Well… thanks.” You said softly, smiling sheepishly, and he did the same as he resumed eating.

“Do you feel… good with me too?” You asked him with a cocked brow and pursed lips.

Nodding at you, Kyle smiled. “Yeah, I’d say I do.” He said as he slurped his noodles again.

You resumed eating as well and, sometimes, you’d glance at one another and smile sheepishly before looking away and focusing on your meals.

“So…” You said as you reached over and dipped a gyoza in the soy sauce. “Did you really fall out of a helicopter?” You asked, which caused his eyes to light up with amusement.

“I did.” He answered with a nod and a grin on his lips.

“How did that happen?” You cocked a brow.

Thirty minutes later, you and Gaz are walking side to side as you head back to work. He’s spent most of the time regaling you with stories about work (with the proper censorship of events, dates, places and people).

You barely got a word in and yet, somehow, you don’t mind. You’re surprisingly entertained by him, by the way his eyes light up when he speaks, the way his smile grows every time a story gets a bit more action-packed…

If you didn’t know by now that he’s a soldier (and an elite one, if his stories are to be believed), you’d have called him out by now by making it all up… But he also showed you a few of his scars to prove he wasn’t lying.

As you reach the front door of your workplace, he’s just finishing up his latest story, just in time. You still have a couple of minutes to burn so you linger with him, hands clasped in front of you, as he has his own on the front pocket of his blue hoodie.

“Thanks for this.” You told him with a smile, watching as his face morphed in confusion.

“Thanks for what?” He asked you with a cocked brow and a smile on his lips.

“Well… everything? Buying me lunch, telling me so many stories, walking me to work…” You listed and chuckled. “I haven’t gotten this type of… attention in a while.” You explained.

Kyle gives you a look of disbelief. “You’ve been going out with Ghost, what do you mean you don’t-” He started but you interrupted him with a sharp ‘That’s different!’.

“Simon is very nice and I enjoyed myself greatly with him but something tells me he wouldn’t exactly want to go out for ramen on my lunch break in broad daylight, without a mask.” You quipped playfully.

“Ah- yeah, I see your point.” Kyle joked a bit.

“And, besides… I got out of a… trainwreck of a relationship recently…” You explained as you shifted your weight around on the balls and heels of your feet.

“Is that why you were on Tinder?” He asked as he dipped his head to the side in understanding.

“Mhm.” You nodded and smiled softly. “Anyway…” You trailed off. “It’s nice to have someone make time to meet up with me during lunch break and… you know… Have a date!” You replied.

“Oh it’s a date, is it?” He asked you with a smirk on his lips and a wiggling of his eyebrows.

“Oh, fuck off…” You quipped and nudged him on the shoulder with your hand. “You’re lucky you’re cute…”

Kyle’s lips parted into a boyish grin as he looked at you. “You think I’m cute?” He asked, amused.

Rolling your eyes, you nudged him again and he simply laughed playfully in response.

Checking the time on your phone, you sighed. “I should go upstairs.” You told him and he nodded.

“Have a good rest of your day. And text me, yeah? I’d like to repeat this.” Kyle told you and you nodded too, smiling sheepishly.

“I plan on it.” You added and leaned up, kissing his cheek, just like you did with Simon a couple of weeks before.

Kyle smiled and chuckled softly when you pulled away. He leaned close and kissed your cheek in return, causing your cheeks to burn a bit.

You waved at him and rushed back inside your workplace. Standing outside in the pavement, Kyle watched you go through the windows, with a smile and returned the wave with a raising of his hand and a single little wave before tucking his hands back in his pockets and walking off again.

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#ikea writes 💚#it's a match! fic #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #text story #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader

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munsster · 2 months

Text

road trip (trope bingo)

A/N: thought i might try this format out. also introducing a new face to my tumblr repertoire. i’ve written marvel before, just never on this site. enjoy!! (gif creds: @bubbarnes)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: You think Bucky is shallow for rejecting a pretty stranger in North Dakota. Little do you know. 1.6k words

Warnings: fluff, dummies not talking about their feelings, pet names (doll), slight angst but resolved, perhaps mutual pinging, a really good hug, playful bullying, cursing

"Ooh, she's cute."

You've been doing this for over an hour. He's downed at least four coffees by now. And the worst part is you call it finding a suitable mate. But he's just not interested in the women you're scouting for him at a rest stop a few miles out from Fargo, North Dakota. He would've just left, gone and sat in the truck, but he'd feel bad leaving you rambling to yourself when you're the one paying for this meal.

"Come on, Buck, you're no fun," you huff, dropping your spoon into the thick mug now emptied of hot cocoa.

"You're right. Can we go now?" He starts to slide out of his seat when you scoff. He goes still like a deer in headlights. This should be fun.

"James Buchanan, you're telling me none of the lovely ladies in this diner tickle your fancy? Not even third barstool? She's tall, Buck, like... model tall," you suggest with your brows raised.

"I'm not... we're in North Dakota, you think that's what I'm lookin' for?"

"Just one date! You wouldn't take her on one, single date? The little bar across the street seems sensible, why not?"

"Um—"

"Tell meee," you whine, leaning over the sticky, vinyl tablecloth with a pout.

He shrugs. "Not my type."

"Bullshit. She's everybody's type. She's my type, Bucky. Are you blind or just plain stupid?"

"I'm not interested."

You pull a face like you're offended on her behalf. Bucky rolls his eyes and wishes you'd drop it.

"Oh, I get it," you say. Leaned back, arms stretched across the length of the seat, you huff and glare at him. "You think you're too good for her, huh? Just 'cause she's a North Dakota ten, and you're a Brooklyn eight, you think that makes you better, don't you?"

"What? An eight?" he mumbles, shaking his head.

"Ugh, you men gross me out sometimes. Massive egos, teensy little brains," you say, slapping a twenty on the table and standing with a vicious squint. "Well, let me learn you something, James"—you loom over him and poke your pointer finger at his chest—"you're shallow, and you're no better than her. You prob'ly couldn't take her out if you wanted to. Goodnight."

You huff and walk away, but he chuckles and calls after you: "It's noon, doll." Flipping him off, you march out into the parking lot. He considers the woman for a moment. You called him a Brooklyn eight. She's pretty, he'll admit, but he wasn't lying when he said he wasn't interested. Bucky's seen the far stretches of the Earth, which means he's seen women of all forms. Accountants and soldiers from all over, all professions, all languages. All beautiful. But nothing intrigues him quite as much as you do.

...

"Did you ask her out, or are you choosing to remain a coward?" You've got your boots propped on the dashboard, the truck bumbling eighty down the highway. An emery board swipes back and forth at your middle fingernail as you snap your bubblegum.

"Come on, doll, play nice. We're leavin' anyway, didn't want to hurt her feelings," he grumbles.

"Tough. Doesn't make you any less of a pussy, Barnes."

You flick the nail file at his cheek and drop your feet heavily on the hot car mat. You called him a Brooklyn eight. You cringe at the remembrance while Bucky revels in it. He even grinned stupid all the way back to the parking lot. To himself, but still. He hates how deep under his skin you are. He hates how he likes the itch.

His tongue twists with all the things he could have said. He should have said. But he grips the steering wheel tight and drives till you cross the border into Minnesota.

"Wanna go anywhere before Wisconsin? They've got... lakes here," he shyly suggests, voice soft, hoping you'll just ignore him and turn up the radio. He doesn't think you'll ever ignore him, even if he did prefer it.

"Only if I could push you into one of them."

"Listen, kid—"

"Kid? That's great, Bucky. It's getting dark, why don't we just find a motel." You cross your arms. The cold is getting to you. Even in a down jacket and two pairs of pants. It gets like that up north.

He does what you tell him because the last thing he needs is for you to hold another grudge against him. This one's quaint, so he gets the last double available, chuckling nervously when the older woman at the front desk mistakes you for a married couple.

"Sure you don't want a single, honey? Not gettin' any kids outta separate beds—"

"Nope—thanks, miss—that's—double is fine, double's perfect, thanks," he huffs. You chuckle.

She gives a rolling, belly laugh, head tossed back as she croaks, "Won't file any noise complaints against youse! Have a fun night."

"Geez, she was great," you sigh, still smiling from the ridiculous interaction. You flop face down onto the bed closest to the window, rattling the ice from the crevices in your boots. It crunches to the floor and you wriggle out of your coat as Bucky locks himself into the pale yellow bathroom.

He starts mumbling from the other side of the door, so you sit up and toe your boots onto the floor with a thud. Digging your fingertips into the edge of the hastily tucked sheets, you stare at a wine stain in the middle of the beige carpet. At least it smells nice in here. Even if half the lights are out, and cable doesn't come through clear enough to watch.

You find yourself, cheek pressed to the door, eyes wide as you listen through the flimsy wood.

"I don't think so, Steve. No, listen, it's like... beyond repair. She wouldn't take an apology even if I knew what i was sorry for—no—she's way too good for me, I can't do that to her."

Still moping over women found in North Dakota's lowest rated diners? That's highly unlike him. But even Bucky's a wildcard six-thousand miles into a roadtrip. You press closer, chewing your lip and closing your eyes.

"No, no, everything—this stuff's easier for you, pal, you don't get it, 'kay? I'm just saying... I mean, even a stranger thought we were married"—What—"has to mean something, right? Even strangers are realizing... there's something... there. I just don't want to accidentally—no, I know, not like that, I mean...well, I like her a lot and I don't want it to scare her—"

You back up slightly, hands held in front of you like surrender. Not out of fear, but realization. That's why he didn't ask her out. Or even fish for her number. Because—

You hit the floor with a thump.

"Steve. I gotta go."

The door whips open and floods the room with warm light. You scramble to your feet.

"Were you... I was just talking to... Did you hear any of that?"

You shake your head. He shoves his hands into the shallow pockets of his jeans.

"Okay," he says with a nod, "good." He blows hot air out of his mouth and runs a swift hand through his hair. But he doesn't meet your eyes. Like a little kid so terrified of fibbing that he'd rather swim deeper into the abyss than float to the surface. Can't catch his damn breath around here.

"So..."

"Goodnight, Bucky!" you chirp, turning on your heel with a whoosh of air. And he stops you in your tracks, hand on your bicep. You don't turn back around, stuck staring at the foot of your bed.

"Doll," he whispers, roped up by fear and a pinch of self-pity. Attending his own funeral with a sick smile on his face. "Just how much did you hear."

You spin on the balls of your feet, going hot in the face, fueled by the electricity at his fingertips. "A lot."

"Oh."

You nod and try your best non-psychotic smile. "Sorry."

"No, no... don't be," he says, trying his own. So you're just a couple of smirking idiots at a stalemate in a stale motel room. A couple of idiots with feelings for each other. Unresolved feelings. Unspoken, too.

"I actually—could I?" You point behind him into the cramped bathroom, and he lets go of you like it's his last move before you put him in check. Before he has to hand you the game. Though, he'd do that in a heartbeat. Every game of his is yours. "Thanks."

"No problem." He shuts his eyes when you close the door with a calculated tenderness. Like you don't want to frazzle his poor heart.

But then why would you open the door again? Why would you wrap your arms around his waist and nuzzle into his back? Why would you make it all so much worse and spread your fingers over his abdomen, taking a deep breath when he runs his hand down your forearm and turns to face you. Then you melt with his strong arms holding you thisclose.

"Like you a lot, too, Barnes. You're just a big dunce a lot of the time. But that's like... half the draw or whatever," you mumble into his shoulder. And you've never been this close, and he thinks he could pass out. Become a chalk outline in a dusty motel in Minnesota. But if it happened like this, he'd be okay with that statistic.

marvel masterlist

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfic #marvel fanfic #marvel #x reader #fluff #tropes #road trip #bucky barnes x fem!reader #x fem!reader #bucky barnes trope bingo

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