#and for the record Buck is being weird and confused because he's all

[elvensorceress]

Sunday Sentences

way more than 7 of them because it's been a while and you deserve all of these 💕 tagged by @eddiebabygirldiaz @spotsandsocks @wikiangela @monsterrae1 @messyhairdiaz @theotherbuckley thank you, beloveds 💕 tagging @shortsighted-owl @hippolotamus @disasterbuckdiaz @housewifebuck @hoodie-buck @the-likesofus @bekkachaos @loserdiaz @wildlife4life @giddyupbuck @911onabc @eddiediaaz @thespermdonorstorylineisstupid @ronordmann @shitouttabuck @babytrapperdiaz @fleurdebeton @buddierights if you haven't posted yet and want to share something 😘

from the Unless finale

Eddie leans in closer, pressing harder, more securely against Buck from shoulders to thighs. “I wanted you,” he whispers and leaves a light brush of a kiss on Buck’s lips. “I want you.”

Buck holds onto him but leans to the side to look at him with a puzzled expression on his face. “You want me?”

What sort of question is that? No, Eddie does this all the time to everyone. He’s the one stealing firetrucks and hooking up in bar bathrooms. Because those are things Eddie would do. When he can’t even talk about having sex even with the man he loves without panicking. Whatever. Of course he wants Buck. “Do you think I don’t?”

“N-no. No, I don’t mean. I mean— what? What do you mean?”

Eddie means this is the strangest conversation he and Buck have ever had. Which says a fucking lot. “What do you think I mean? I want you. I wanted more. I wanted you to stay. You and your hard-on. We could have—” Eddie’s still not sure where they might’ve landed on the they could have had sex spectrum. But it would have been something more than Buck running to jerk off alone because he was too turned on and thought it wasn’t welcome. “I mean maybe you aren’t ready to have sex yet. I get that. We haven’t even said if we’re dating dating and it’s only been hours that we’ve been together. So… maybe this was better. Maybe we should wait. But…” 

But he doesn’t know how to finish that thought other than Buck should have stayed. He needs Buck to stay. He wants Buck with him. He wants to take care of him and love him and be good for him. 

Buck blinks at him then leans back even further and stares with a scrunched look of trying to do complicated math and failing at it. He even holds up a hand like he needs a teacher to call on him and answer his questions. “What? I just. I don’t understand. What do you—what?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’?” 

“I mean who are you and what have you done with Eddie and I don’t know what you mean by, I want you. And we should wait? And you think I’m not ready to have sex yet? Why do you think we’re going to have sex? What do you want with me? Of me? What do you— w-what do you want when you say, you want me?”

What else might it mean? Were they not just making out all over the kitchen? Is it not obvious? Eddie didn’t think he would have to spell it all the way out. But maybe direct and to the point is the best approach? 

He rests both his hands on Buck’s chest. His very soft, very warm, very muscled and beautiful chest with his beautiful beating heart that Eddie swears he can feel racing beneath his fingers. “Buck,” he says slowly, passionately, with as much warmth and love as he can possibly pour into his words. “I want to have sex with you.” 

It doesn’t quite have the reaction Eddie was expecting. Or hoping for. Not that he knows exactly what he thought might happen, but Buck just blinks at him like Eddie’s suddenly confessed he was wrong and actually does believe in jinxes and the “q-word curse” and other stupid superstitions. 

But he’s not the one who responds to Eddie’s declarative wanting anyway. 

“Uhhh. If you’re going to do that, can you not do it in the kitchen,” Chris says from the doorway. “I eat here. We all eat here. It would have to be some kind of health hazard violation.”

Chris is leaning against the doorway. Without his crutches. Which somehow makes him far too stealthy and quiet. Either that or Eddie was just way too distracted with... never mind.

Eddie’s stomach, lungs, liver, kidneys, heart all plummet out of his body. Metaphorically of course because literally dying of mortification would give him an out from this situation. That would be too easy. 

He pulls away from Buck and steps backward until he’s at the opposite side of the room, while Buck is left with his arms hanging in midair, curved around where Eddie used to be. 

“We’re not,” Eddie says. “We weren’t doing— anything. We weren’t going to. We were just talking.”

Chris gives him a withering, skeptical look that only makes him look a thousand percent like his mother. 

Which Eddie absolutely cannot handle right now.

“H-hey, Chris,” Buck steps toward the doorway, coincidentally or maybe not so coincidentally between Eddie and Chris, and turns into his bubbly, eager, friendly self. “Are you— are you hungry? Do you still want those pancakes? Cinnamon swirls and cream cheese icing? I was getting ready to make them for us.”

Chris wrinkles his nose and shakes his head. “Not hungry anymore. What’s going on? When did this happen? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Buck looks back to Eddie with clear worry all over his face, and Eddie tries to silently convey that everything is okay. Chris isn’t in the dark about how Eddie feels about Buck. He’s not angry with them. 

Eddie’s pretty sure anyway. “It only just happened. We weren’t keeping anything from you.” 

Chris gapes at him with wide, horrified eyes. “It just happened? That’s how you told Buck? By saying that? Oh my god, Dad! What were you thinking? That is so embarrassing.”

Eddie’s mouth falls open. “N-no. No! That wasn’t— That wasn’t how.”

Chris’ very disbelieving, very Shannon-face comes out again, and Eddie sags against the counter and rubs a hand over his suddenly aching head. 

“No. Chris,” Buck says gently but solidly. Something firm and stead through storms and Eddie just wants to hold onto him and never let go. “Your dad told me last night that he’s in love with me. And I love him, too. I love you both more than anything.”

Chris turns his scrutinizing gaze on Buck this time and still looks skeptical, but also not so horrified. Just wary. 

At this point, Eddie will take what he can get. 

[pantsaretherealheroes]

for fuck-it friday and the others (again i am slack but i've been writing a lot with my spare time!) thanks so much for your continued tags @cal-daisies-and-briars @jeeyuns :DD

for this one i'm doing two snippets from both of my current projects to make up for all the tags i've missed

under a cut for dash purposes:

snippet one is from the bosh fic, are we still friends, can we be friends?

“I thought you didn’t get on so well with him at dispatch?” Hen asks, shrewdly.  “That was early on,” Eddie protests. “We’re good now. Friendly, even.”  “Hmm.” Hen pops her eyebrows. “What?”  Hen shrugs. “If you say you’re fine, you’re fine. But you can tell me if you’re not.”  Eddie bites his lip and looks around. Buck is still helping Chim clean the truck downstairs. “Ok fine, I’m not super looking forward to it. But that’s more because I don’t really have a good track record here. I mean neither of us have ever really hung out with the person each of us was dating. It’s awkward.”  Hen nods. “No one’s asking you to be best friends. I don’t hang out with just Chim and Maddie that often, but she’s fun to hang out with. And I’ve become pretty good friends with Jordan, Karen’s best friend from college. You just gotta find your commonalities.”  Eddie sighs. “Yeah, Josh and I have things in common. It’ll be…fine.”  “Well, you have one pretty important thing in common,” Hen tells him, and for a moment, he thinks he sees something in her eyes. Those x-ray eyes.  He must look confused, because she continues. “Buck, obviously.”  “Oh, yeah,” he says. Obviously.

and snippet two, from the forthcoming stranger than fiction au (if i can ever finish it!)

Evan Buckley opens his mouth almost incredulously. “Not great, actually. I’m being audited.” Eddie’s not sure what to say to that. It’s not like anyone should enjoy being audited. “By a real dick, too,” Evan Buckley continues, and that feels pointed. And fair. It’s not professional at all to leer at your auditee’s body. “I feel like I owe you an apology,” Eddie offers. “They don’t really value tact or good manners at the IRS, but my Abuela would smack me round the head if she knew how I acted the other day. I’m – I’m sorry.” He doesn’t usually stammer. He puts it down to the weirdness of this week. Evan Buckley’s expression softens at this. He almost smiles. “Apology accepted,” he says. “But only because you stammered.” Eddie tries not to smile too obviously. “So,” he says, trying to think of something to say. “You, uh, catch the bus often?” “Not if I can help it,” Evan Buckley snorts. “But my Jeep’s in the shop, and I have somewhere I need to be.” Eddie’s not sure why he says the next thing. Maybe he’s just feeling confident. “Got some hungry anarchists to feed?” Evan Buckley smiles, the same mischievous kind from the other day. He almost seems curious, even. He leans forward on the separator in front of him, crossing his ams and leaning them on it. He’s really the kind of man that likes to lean in close, Eddie’s starting to realise, if that’s anything that can be realised. “I’m bringing them to my weekly evil conspiracy and needlepoint group,” he says, in a stage whisper, smirking. Something sparkles in his eyes. “You wanna come?” Eddie isn’t sure this is at all a real offer. But even if it was, an auditor can’t hang out with their auditee. No matter how much, in the moment, they’d love it to be a genuine offer. To put off everything in their life that needs their attention – for an hour or two and follow their auditee somewhere new. He smiles, apologetically. “I would but, I, uh, left my socialist reading material and crochet needles at home.”

thanks guys this is fun to do <3

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson fighting for the readers attention and love, possibly with two different endings for each?

I thought it was a really cool concept and who better than you to make it happen!

This is....I love it.

Warnings: mentions of sex and drugs, swearing, spicy shit, overall slowburn between both relationships.

Word Count: 6,100 words guys. 6.1k. This is 6.1k. I think this was actually worth the wait lmao.

READ THE FOLLOWING A/N.

A/n: I'll post this and see what you guys think. In the comments PLEASE PLEAS PLEASE let me know if I should write the Eddie ending or Steve ending first. Also this is non-canon.

It's not that often where the two men that I'm in love with, and have been in love with, both have feelings for me. I spent weeks, months, crying over the thought of having to choose between them, knowing I would end up hurting one of them over the other. And I just couldn't fathom leading them on or hurting them, so, Dustin Henderson of all people came up with the idea that they would 'duel' over me.

The agreement was simple in the beginning.

Eddie was immediately happy, it completely peaked his interest and was right up his alley when it comes to winning over women. But Steve was confused. Of course he wanted to fight for me but he didn't physically want to fight, especially with his track record of getting the shit beat out of him.

So, Dustin laid out the plans.

Both of them would have a week to give it all they had. They weren't allowed to kiss me or make any physical, sexual, advances and they could only use their words to win me over- their stellar personalities. And at first, I thought that it was going to be easy, that one of them would stick out to me more and have better boyfriend material but fuck.

They're both just-

Perfect. They're perfect, wholesome, attractive, sensitive; everything.

And that's what makes it so hard.

Day 1:

My eyes pick a spot on my ceiling of my car, my mind trying to distract myself as I buck up the courage to go inside, knowing the kids are waiting for me. Twenty minutes late isn't a good look on me, especially when I've taken over as babysitter of the group, taking the boys back and forth from Hellfire Club whenever they needed.

But with the ongoing 'duel' and Eddie being revved up inside, awaiting my arrival- I'm not going to lie, it terrifies me. It's as if I'm seeing him in a new light now that he's gone above and beyond trying to get my attention since the moment I woke up. First it was the flowers on my front step, a small note with a smiley face on it, immediately making my heart explode with excitement. Second, it was the call I got about an hour and a half later, making sure I got the flowers and loved them 'as much as he thought I would'.

I never thought I was a flower type of person but apparently I am.

But, it was odd, because its radio silence on the Harrington side today.

There's been no calls, no impromptu visits or gifts. He's been relatively quiet which is weird considering who he is. Knowing him, he's at work and Keith is actually there for once, keeping him from the phone and keeping him from going on break. So all he's able to do is game plan with Robin and if there's one person I trust to give Steve romantic advice, it's Robin.

My feet carry me through the halls as I make my way up to their room, hearing the cheering and yelling from inside. I can only hope that they won, putting everyone in a good mood along with Eddie. Pushing open the door, it squeaks, capturing the attention of the people inside as they all turn to look at me. The smiles on their faces only grow as I smile to myself, chuckling quietly as Eddie claps his hands.

"Yes! You're just in time!" He cheers, waving me over as I wave at Dustin, giggling at the wink he throws my way. I step up to Eddie's side as he adjusts himself in his 'throne', his chin tilting to look up at me with a bright grin. "We won the campaign!" He giggles proudly as he claps once more, turning back to his friends with a proud grin.

"Well good, then I don't have to hear them complain all the way home." I snort, catching the eye rolls from the teens to my left, my hand reaching out to shove Mike playfully. "Maybe that even warrants ice cream... I don't know." I shrug nonchalantly but Mike, Lucas and Dustin are all immediately on their feet, happy and appreciative expressions on their faces.

"Damn, I want ice cream." Eddie huffs, my lips fanning out into a smirk and I shrug.

"That really sucks, doesn't it?" I whisper, reaching forward to pat his cheek playfully as his jaw drops. "It's weird, it's almost like you have a very pretty girl to ask out on an ice cream date and you're not taking that opportunity." His eyes widen but he nods excitedly, out of his seat in seconds, tripping as he makes his way to stand in front of me, towering over my frame.

"Get with it, man!" Dustin hisses, a cackle leaving me as I reach out to smack his arm. Eddie just places his hands on my upper arms, looking down at me. "No physical contact, Eds-"

"You said sexual contact, Henderson, this is not sexual yet!" Eddie yells, not bothering to move his hands, my head tipping back in a fit of giggles and the men around me laugh. "How about, I go with you, they sit at a different table, and I pay?" He offers breathlessly, brows pulled together in desperation as I pat his chest.

"With your drug money?" I tease but he just shakes his head with a smirk, tutting quietly at me.

"Yes, the drug money from the rich white people- exploit the rich." He wraps an arm around my shoulder without another word, nodding the children on as I hold my keys out to Eddie who takes them without a second thought.

When we're all fine and settled in our booths, one milkshake in between Eddie and I with two straws, my smile only grows. His hands rest on the table in front of me, my own fingers itching to reach out and play with the chunky rings that fit perfectly around his digits. You wanna know where else those fingers would fit?

"This is awfully romantic, Munson, I'll give you that." I chuckle, leaning forward to take a sip of the chocolate milkshake, his eyes watching my lips wrap prettily around the straw.

"I try my best." He shrugs with a gentle blush, his eyes avoiding mine as I grin. "So, what did you do today?" Oh other than fantasize about two guys who are both in love with me? I giggle, concealing my thoughts that want to slip from my obviously dirty mind, shrugging my shoulders playfully.

"Not Steve." I wink and he immediately nods, sitting up a little bit straighter as he points at me proudly.

"Good girl." Fuck. My insides twist at the subtle praise, my lip tugging between my teeth as I bite back a shuddered breath. "Yeah, I knew you were a 'good girl' type'a chick." He snorts, taking a long sip from the milkshake as I gawk at him.

"Nothing sexual, Eds." He rolls his eyes at my chastising tone, a wicked smirk spread across his lips that I want nothing more than to kiss.

"Dustin said no physical sexual advances. He never specified dirty talk." He winks, my thighs clenching and I continue to bite at my lip, knowing that this is not going to be an easy week for me.

But if it's not going to be an easy week for me, then I'm gonna make it even harder for them.

Day 2:

Stirring in my bed, my back thumps against the mattress as I flip over for the millionth time, my head spinning with thoughts about the date early on but also about my lack of contact with Steve. It bothered me, sure, but it also worried me that I went the whole day without hearing from him.

Grabbing my phone off of my bedside table, I toss it into my lap and immediately begin to slide in Steve's numbers, anxious butterflies swirling around in my stomach at the thought of him picking up, voice all groggy from sleep. But as the first line rings, my head shakes, hands slamming the phone down onto the base with a huff.

Why the hell am I so nervous?

I've known Steve for years, longer than I've even known Eddie, so why is it that this whole arrangement make me feel so nervous and unsteady around the two closest men in my life?

The hairs on every inch of my skin sticks up as a knock on my window sounds throughout my room, my brows pulling together at the sight of a figure outside my drapes. Timidly, I pull back the curtains to see Steve, a relieved smile on his lips as I reach up to wipe sleep from my eyes. I immediately set the phone down and slide the window open, helping him over the threshold and into my room.

"I actually just chickened out of calling you." I chuckle quietly, holding a finger to my lips as I leave the window open, enjoying the light that it brings to my previously pitch-black room. He grins, running a hand through his hair as he slips off his shoes, falling back onto my bed almost immediately.

"Well, I'm here, apparently I read your mind." Snorting, I roll my eyes, moving to lay down next to him as I take a deep breath. "I feel so shitty for not seeing you or calling you today. Keith was at the video store and I literally could not catch five goddamn minutes." He huffs anxiously, tilting his head to look over at me but I just reach over to pat his thigh reassuringly.

"That's exactly what I assumed happened. I was only mildly worried." I explain quietly with a shit-eating grin on my face. He chuckles, nodding his head in relief. "So what made you come over?"

"Dustin called me and said you and Eddie went on a date. That he paid for all your ice cream and stuff." There's a sense of disgust in his voice, his lips tugged down into a frown.

"Yeah, it was nice. They won their campaign today so I figured celebration was in order." I curl up on my side next to him, my eyes flickering over his tired expression as he yawns. "You didn't have to worry and come all the way out here at midnight. It's barely day two." I whisper and he nods immediately, his head lolling to the side as he gazes softly at me in the dark room.

"I know, I know. I just..." He trails off, biting at the inside of his cheek as he scoots a bit closer to me, his nose only inches away from mine. "All I thought about today was you." My lip tucks between my lip as I grin excitedly.

"Yeah?" I ask but I already know that's true just from what I know about both of the boys begging for my attention. Once they give their undivided attention towards one thing- or person- that's where all of their energy will go towards. "That's kind of romantic, Harrington." He chuckles sheepishly, reaching over to shove me but his eyes never leave mine, flickering back and forth from my gaze, down to my lips. Every ounce of my body is telling me to kiss him, to just break the rules and see what it feels like- that maybe it would help me gain insight towards my ultimate, painful decision. "I want to kiss you." I admit, my confession sounding awfully shaky as his eyes widen briefly, lips parting handsomely and he chuckles under his breath.

"I wanna do more than just kiss you." My thighs clench at his words, heart skipping a beat as I watch his tongue sweep out across his lips. He has me completely wrapped around his finger, my body inching towards him as my hand soothes up his chest to wrap around his neck.

"Fuck, you can't say that stuff, Harrington." I whisper but it sounds dangerously close to a whimper, my voice completely breathless as he grin, reaching up to cup my cheek. "This is getting sexual. Don't make me tell Dustin that you broke the rules." I shake my head, shutting my eyes tightly as I roll onto my back.

"Screw Henderson and his rules." He groans, leaning over me as his lips press against my cheek, traveling down my chin as I bite my lip, concealing the needing, wanting moans that want to slip through.

"Play nice. Or else I'll have to go level the playing field and make out with Eddie." His body freezes at my threat, eyes rolling with a cringed smile as I giggle, reaching over to pinch his side.

"That's the ultimate cock-block." He chuckles, running his fingers through his hair as he reaches over to pull me back into his arms.

Day 3:

I know in my heart that it's going to take me more than a week to pick one over the other, both of the men getting at me in just the right ways. I try to convince myself that it's shocking that they know me this well, that there would be no reason for me to fall for the both of them even more but I have to chalk it up to the fact that they both know me way better than I thought they did.

The gifts, the flowers, everything is just perfect; everything they've said to me, over the phone, through letters, it all just hits my heart and mind in the right way. They've been so kind and so patient, making it about me instead of taking opportunities to dig at one another. They've been true gentlemen about this whole arrangement and, other than Steve's sexual misstep the other night, they've followed Dustin's rules to a T.

But today feels different.

There's a hint of underlying tension as we all spread out across the Wheeler's basement, having our monthly meeting regarding the supernatural activity within Hawkins. Since Vecna and the Mind Flayer showed their ugly faces, we decided that we would get together monthly to go over any weird things that have happened since we've talked last.

But this month, the topic of conversation is the arrangement between the group love triangle; Steve, Eddie and I.

"So, nothing sexual has happened at all?" Dustin asks, the group suddenly paying full attention to the men who sit on either sides of me, the groups eyes prying and curious. It's rare that their attention is focused this much- they're all typically scatterbrains- but everyone is on high alert today for all the wrong reasons.

"Steve almost fucked up the other night but I quickly threatened him and deflated his boner." I snort, tucking my knees up to my chest as Eddie gasps beside me, leaning to look past me and at Steve who blushes vividly.

"What did you threaten him with?" Eddie asks and the rest of the group hums in agreement, looking to me for an answer as I chuckle, my eyes shutting.

"I said if he tired to make out with me that I would have to even the playing field and go make out with Eddie. He quickly backed off." Dustin and Robin immediately erupt in giggles, Steve's jaw dropping at the betrayal, throwing him under the bus so easily with their laughter. Eddie just wraps an arm around my shoulder, tugging me into his side with a happy grin.

"That's my girl. Win for Munson." Eddie pumps his fists proudly as I roll my eyes playfully, reaching over to pat his thigh and I hear Steve huff beside me, pouting. I just send him a small smile with a reassuring nod, realizing that he gets ten times more jealous than Eddie does, probably due to the fact that he's way more insecure.

"I'm genuinely so intrigued by this dynamic." Lucas whispers, shaking his head as he wraps an arm around Max with a laugh.

"Why don't you both just date her?" Mike asks, brows pulled tightly together as my stomach churns at the thought. In a perfect world, it would be amazing but I know these two men better than they know themselves and I know that having to share me would never fly, no matter how much that thought excites me.

"Because they're possessive and want me to themselves." I explain briefly, the rest of the group sharing an agreeable 'ahh'. Eddie's arm tightens around me at my words and I feel Steve's fingers toy with my shoelaces.

"So, do you have any idea of who you're going to pick?" Dustin's question makes my heart stop, the whole room feeling a whole lot more claustrophobic, my stomach twisting painfully as my lips tug down into a frown.

"Let's not stress her out with that right now, alright Henderson?" Eddie explains quietly, my head instinctively falling into his shoulder as I let him stand up for me. "You gave us a week."

"It's only day three." Steve quickly says, my head craning to look over at him with a soft smile. My anxiety diminishes a bit, relaxing into the couch behind me as I listen to the rest of the group fall into a normal conversation about anything other than me and my relationship status.

Day 4:

My hands work with what I have, dabbing some eyeshadow onto Eddie's eyelids as he smiles up at me, hands resting on my waist. It didn't take much convincing once I requested to do his makeup, knowing deep in my heart that Eddie always wanted someone to do this to him. The thought of embracing his femininity was always something he wanted but he never had the correct person to trust in his life to come clean about this secret to.

"This is nice." He whispers, thumbs drawing circles into the bare skin of my waist where my shirt bunches up. "You gonna put badass eyeliner on me?" He asks, eyes suddenly opening as he gazes up at me sweetly, a smile spreading across my lips. He's gentler than most think, his hardcore, 'bad boy' attitude quickly fading the minute he knows he can be himself.

Snapping us out of our happy gaze, the phone to my left rings and I groan, rolling my eyes as I abandon the makeup, picking the call up; all while not leaving Eddie's lap.

"Hello?" Eddie smiles at the sweetness of my voice, his fingers playing with the small eyeshadow pallet in his lap.

"Hey, it's Steve, are you busy?" A smirk spreads across my lips as Eddie's eyes widen, looking up at me with a hint of jealousy and possessiveness, waiting desperately for me to answer.

"I'm a tiny bit busy. Why, what's up?" I quiz, playing with the phone cord and I hear Steve chuckle on the other end of the line. Eddie just pouts, pinching my thigh as I blow out a laugh.

"Just missed your voice. I'm on break at work and I just wanted to call you and tell you I was thinking about you." My face warms at his kind words and I can picture him on the other side of the line, cheeks red, hair tousled from anxiously playing with it like he does.

"Tell him you're not thinking about him." Eddie whisper screams and I giggle, shoving him playfully before slapping a hand over his mouth. His eyes look down at my hand with furrowed brows, my eyes giving him a testing look as he nods obediently.

"Is that Eddie?" Steve asks, disappointment lacing his voice as I pout, knowing that he'll be upset now- not upset, but jealous.

"Yes, we're currently having a makeover- he's letting me do his makeup." I chuckle, holding the phone between my ear and my shoulder as I pick the eyeliner up in my fingers, freeing Eddie's mouth as he sticks his tongue out at me. It's nice that Eddie has so much time to spend with me since his job really doesn'y demand many hours but it maybe wasn't the fairest to Steve who works constantly.

"Oh."

"It's alright, Stevie. C'mon, keep telling me how much you miss me." He laughs quietly at my demand, my fingers cupping Eddie's cheek as I carefully apply the eyeliner a bit too messily.

"I was just thinking about the other night." Steve mutters, my lip tucking between my teeth but also in concentration as my brain spins, thinking back to our proximity, the feeling of his lips against my skin.

"The other night?" Eddie asks in a hushed voice, this time, quiet enough that Steve doesn't hear him.

"Just was I guess wondering where you stand with everything." Steve's voice sounds unsure and a whole lot like prying, trying to see if I've made a decision. I scoff, watching Eddie's brows furrow as I finish the eyeliner on one of his lids. My brows are pulled together in frustration, my voice coming out ten times more strained than I intend.

"It's only day four." My words shake, breathing shuddered a bit as Eddie sits up a bit straighter, arm wrapping around my waist at the sight of my discomfort and the tears lining my eyes.

"And you've seen Eddie every day." Steve huffs and I can imagine the pout on his lips, eyes dropping low to the ground as Keith yells at him to come off his break.

"Is this you asking to spend more time with me?" I ask incredulously, confused as to why he couldn't just call and ask to see me tonight or ask what I'm doing. Instead, he allows himself to get swayed the minute he finds out that I'm with Eddie.

I know that Steve worries, especially with what happened after Nancy and Jonathan. He worried about cheating and dishonesty so maybe he thinks he's protecting himself by pushing me to try to come to some sort of decision now but it's only pushing me away further.

"You know what, forget about it." Steve mutters and before I can reply, the dial tone fills my ear, my lips parting in shock as Eddie's eyes rake over my expression. My hands slam the phone down onto the base, sniffling loudly as Eddie pulls me closer towards him.

"Did he hang up on you?" He takes my silence as a silent agreement, hands soothing over my back with a sad scoff. "He signed up for this. Same as I did. We both agreed to be patient with you and do our best to win you over." My head nods instinctively at his words but they're not clicking. Maybe Steve thought that this was going to be an easy decision- hell, even I did a little bit. A part of me thought that I would have some sort of idea as to who I want to be with more but I don't.

I just don't have an answer for him yet- for either of them.

"He's just constantly comparing and seeing this as a competition, instead of thinking about how he's coming off." I explain, my hands pressing against his chest as he listens intently, lips sealed and eyes soft. I sigh violently, fingers fisting the material of his t-shirt. "I think he's just terrified to lose me." My voice shakes as he leans forward, eyes catching mine with a teasing grin.

"Join the fucking club." I giggle tearily, reaching up to wipe my eyes as I listen to him, leaning down to rest my forehead against his muscular shoulder. How come I never realized he's got muscles? "Look- I know something happened the other night with you guys, he kissed you or something and, sure, it revs me up to think about it." His muscles tense beneath me as I sigh, hating myself for disappointing two people at once, all because I love both of them too much. "But I'm not about to take that out on you when I want nothing more than to prove to you that I'm the right decision." His lips skim against the shell of my ear and I relax at the feeling of his hands soothing against my back.

"Maybe he didn't realize it would be this hard." Mumbling, he nods, understanding but not saying anything more about it. A few moments go by, silent and comfortable as I am overcome with exhaustion, my emotions taking too much out of me.

"I just want you to know," he whispers, pressing a kiss to the side of my head, "I know you must be worried sick about losing one of us but you won't lose me. We've been friends for as long as I can remember a-and that's not me giving you an excuse to go pick him but..." I lean back to look at him as he rambles, his smile sad and his shrug forced. "I'm going to be here, either way. And I think that says a lot more than Harrington hanging up on you because you haven't made up your mind." I nod, knowing that everything he's saying is true but my heart twists painfully at the thought of Steve probably ranting to Robin as we speak. "You're allowed to not have your mind made up." Wiping my tears gently with the pads of his thumbs, he smiles, pressing a simple kiss to my nose before clapping his hands. "Now, finish my makeup, wench, so we can take pictures."

Day Five:

My heart aches as I wait on my front steps, knees anxiously bouncing up and down as I stalk every car that passes by. Steve promised in the voicemail he left last night that he would be over at nine in the morning, bright and early, to pick me up for a day together. He also insisted that he wasn't taking no for an answer.

After Eddie left last night, covered in makeup with a bright smile on his lips, I laid in bed and cried. Sobbed hysterically for hours, curled up in the sweatshirt that Eddie left behind, boxes of tissues coming and going.

Eddie was so kind and so reassuring, his smile hitting places in my heart that I needed. It's as if our friendship just got better especially now that we're finally able to talk freely about our feelings towards one another.

But something about Steve and his frustration, the total 180 from our friendship prior, it wasn't sticking well with me. Maybe he thought it would be easy to talk about his feelings for me now that everything is out in the open, now that everyone knows that both him and Eddie both want me. But maybe it just solidified that he has no idea how to actually talk to women, especially since Nancy and her inability to tell him how she was truly feeling.

My brows lift as I stand, watching Steve pull into my driveway with a small smile on his lips, his fingers fluttering in a gentle wave. I let out a breath of relief as I step down my steps, jogging to the car as quick as I can just to be able to hear what he has to say. I huff breathlessly as I plop down into the passenger side, turning almost immediately in my seat to face him with a nervous smile.

"Relax." He chuckles sheepishly, reaching over the middle console to take my hand in his. I relax a bit, fastening my seatbelt as he rolls back out of my driveway. "I just wanted to take you somewhere to talk. I know you like the rain and stuff so." I nod, watching the droplets of water hit the windshield quietly as he turns the music completely down just so I can enjoy the sound of the rain.

But the silence doesn't last long.

"Are you mad at me-"

"No, god no. Never." He squeezes my hand, not even letting me finish my worried thought before reassuring me. "I'm an asshole for last night, seriously. Henderson practically kicked my ass when I told him what happened." He huffs, running his other hand through his hair as he stops at a red light. He turns to me with apologetic eyes, his lips in a slight pout. "I hope you and Eddie had a good time. Maybe I just get a little bit more jealous than I should." He admits, biting at the inside of his cheek as he pulls onto the quarry road, a smile taking over my face as I remember the first time he took me to the quarry for the first time. "I shouldn't have hung up on you- god, I'm sorry." He sounds embarrassed, his cheeks heated up in angry embarrassment and he parks the car, immediately taking off his seatbelt and pulling me into his arms. I chuckle lightly, unbuckling myself to wrap my arms properly around him.

"It's okay. I get that this is weird for everyone." I whisper, brushing my fingers through his hair as we sit in silence, the rain comforting me as my nose brushes against the crook of his neck. "I hate that I'm hurting you." My lip wobbles sadly but he just laughs sweetly, pressing a kiss to my shoulder.

"I can take it." He promises, pulling away from me with a sigh, reaching up to trace his finger along my cheek. "I'll love you either way. Even if it has to be platonic if you pick him. I get it." My brows furrow painfully at the thought of not being with him but I feel the same if I think about it the other way.

Fuck.

"This is really hard for me." I whimper, a single tear dripping down my cheek but he's quick to brush it away.

"I know, sweetheart." His voice is heartbreakingly kind, the type of kind that makes me want to just sob and fall into him, to never let him go. "You don't gotta worry about losing me- you could never." He swears, cupping my cheeks in his strong hands, eyes flickering back and forth between mine.

"Eddie said the same thing." I roll my eyes sadly with a sorrowed smile but he just laughs.

"I fucking hope so." His words pull a giggle out of me, my eyes fluttering shut and a few tears escape my eyes. "You've got like two of the best guys in Hawkins pining after you." My head leans into his hands, resting my eyes a bit after a whole night of sobbing.

"I do and it's the best but it also fucking sucks, Harrington." I play with a spot on the scratched seat beneath me and he watches me with fond eyes.

"We've both been your best friends for a long time. You just have to trust me when I tell you that we'll all be fine. You'll be okay." He whispers, taking my hands in his, squeezing them once more as I give him a half-convinced nod.

Day Six:

As the week starts to come down to an end, the want and need to just stay in bed and avoid all responsibilities sounds sweeter than anything. I spent all day yesterday with Steve, going on a long walk and out to dinner, wrapping up the night with a movie that Robin stole us from their work.

It was perfect and sweet, definitely what I needed to heal whatever wound had formed from him being so rude and hanging up on me abruptly. But the lack of communication with Eddie was killing me throughout the whole day, just wanting to give him a call and tell him that I would talk to him later, that he didn't have to worry.

But I never picked up the phone, even after Steve left.

My eyes flicker as I watch the birds fly by my window, their chirping calming the nausea rising in my stomach every time I think about the phone ringing and it being one of the boys. I don't have the energy to talk, to explain how I'm feeling, to cry anymore about my current predicament.

The only thing I can do is just roll over every once in a while, tucking myself further under my covers and listen to the quiet music playing in the corner of my room.

The door cracks open a bit, catching my attention as I pull the covers further up my body, tucking them under my nose. Eddie's head pops into my room, his eyes immediately drooping a bit at the sight of me so secluded.

"Hi." He smiles, slipping into my room with a soft smile, not bothering to turn on the light or ask any questions, he just shuts the door and strips himself of his leather jacket. He works on his shoes next, tossing them away from him as his fingers reach down to curl around the edge of my blanket. "Scoot over, toots." I chuckle quietly at the cheesy nickname, lifting the covers for him to slip underneath them, his arms immediately pulling me to him. I rest my head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heart beating gently.

"I don't wanna talk." I whisper, my voice croaking as he sighs, carding his fingers through my hair.

"Then don't. I'll talk anyways, you know that." I chuckle breathily at his sass, my eyes fluttering shut as I throw a leg over his, curling myself into him as far as I can. "Steve called me and told me he was worried about you. Told me that I was the better option to come over and help." His fingers dance across my back soothingly, my mind barely taking in any of his words as I'm overcome with exhaustion.

"'m just sad." I whisper, not bothering to expand upon it, knowing that Eddie just gets it.

"I don't want you to be sad." He mumbles, lips pressing against my hairline a few times and I feel his shoulders droop. "Do you want me to remove myself from this triangular equation? Take the pressure off of you-"

"No!" My eyes tear as I frantically shake my head, leaning back to look at him, watching his jaw clench and gaze flicker away from me. "No, please don't." My head shakes as I desperately find myself crawling closer to him, wrapping my arms around his neck as he pulls me into his lap. "I still have another day." I plead, just needing him here, with me, just for today and then tomorrow I can cry and panic about all of my deep rooted concerns.

"I'd lose this whole thing if it meant that you'd feel some sort of relief." He admits, tucking himself into me, holding onto me as if I'd evaporate if he let me go. "I just want you to be happy." I pull away to wipe at the tears streaming down my cheeks but they come quicker than I can bat them away. He just tilts his head at me, hands rubbing over my lower back.

"You make me happy." I cry, eyes squeezing shut as my chest aches.

"I know, bug." He whispers, scooting down on the bed as I follow his lead, sliding down between his legs so I can lay my head on his sternum. "Let's just stay here, alright? That sound like a plan?" He offers, brushing his fingers through my hair as I give him a silent nod, watching as my tears make small little blotches on his t-shirt.

Day Seven:

I didn't think my eyes could get more swollen than how they were before Eddie showed up yesterday but after spending the whole day crying on and off with him, they're now bloodshot and puffy, dried up and pained with nothing more to give.

I made it clear to the both of them that I need the day to think, to decide and consider all the options on the table. I then told them that I would meet them both later on at the coffee shop around the corner from me, hopefully being able to answer some of their questions and have made up my mind in that time.

I had a decision to make and even after almost a week of gathering information and being swept off of my feet, the answer couldn't be more unclear.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the-heart @vampviolets@haylee-e@popehaywardssecretgf @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife @smoke-and-fire @officiallyunofficialperson@heyaitsklaudia@rosepetalsparks @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @colbysbrocks @iamasimpingh0e @smoke-and-fire386 @loveshineslikethesky @id-3-kbro @diorsitgirl @errorfound101-allideasburnedout @neverwillknowme18 @ellyskey @taylors-folk @loversjoy @myaloveee @thyris-is

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are Weird: Soldier without a war. Part I

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

 “You sure the speks don’t patrol there?”

“If they did do you really think I’d bring this rust bucket along for a job?”

Melp strapped himself into the copilot’s chair and looked over the console readings one last time. All systems were showing minimal operational capacity which normally would have been setting off alarm bells but with how things had been going for him and his captain lately it was the best they could ask for.

Melp was part of the salvage company “Outlying Star”, co-owner in fact with his partner and current captain Galem. When the war against humanity had started the two had thought it was the best idea to make a fortune with all the wrecks floating between star systems from fleet combat and had went all in on a converted freighter to pick through the bones and sell what they could.

At first Melp and Galem had made a killing, bringing in semi functional sub space drives and salvaged fully automated hard shell loaders from human ships. They made enough to fund a fleet of five ships and live the good life back on Valfha without a care in the world; for a little while at least.

Galem thought it was because of the government’s restrictions on salvageable items that had hampered their business but Melp believed it was because they were just too good at it that and had inspired countless others to take up the salvage game. Soon markets, both legal and black, became flooded with salvaged goods and people willing to undercut each other to make a quick buck. Neutron cannon went from 3.5 billion credits in value to just under 300 million credits in the span of six months. As a side effect of the sudden influx of salvage parts the government began taking notice and cracked down hard. Salvagers were called “Scavies” and deemed criminals by the government and the military would all too happily fire on any scavy ship they spotted. Seems they weren’t too happy about people rummaging through the wrecks of ships that once held their friends and the government would turn a blind eye if a scavy ship was destroyed during “Live Fire Exercises”.

Soon the jobs became even riskier and Outlying Star lost three ships after they were caught and destroyed. Another had to be sold for parts and salvage and now the final ship, the Morning Gale, was the last hope for Galem and Melp to make back some money.

“How do you even know this site hasn’t been picked clean already?” Melp asked over his shoulder as Galem entered the cockpit and locked the door behind him. “We could be wasting our time on a fantasy.” Galem shook his head which did little to ease Melp’s concerns.

“I got it from a reliable source that there was a big fight in the Glipi Cluster that we lost to the humans.” Galem began as he took the controls and slowly pulled back on the engine throttle as the ship ascended. “It was so embarrassing that the navy wiped all records of the battle and said the destroyed ships were lost in a freak transition from sub space into a rogue comet cluster.”

“If the data was wiped how does your source know about it?”  Melp quipped as the ship breached upper atmosphere and exited the travel lanes for the jump point.

Galem smirked as he engaged the sub space drive.

“They were there.”

 As the salvage ship exited sub space Melp let out a gasp. He blinked several times and rubbed his eyes yet when he opened them all he could see was a shroud of purple. Galem saw Melp’s confused expression and chuckled.

“It’s the color of the gas filtering through this entire cluster.” He said calmly as he flicked on several scanners and filter units. “Try looking now.”

Melp looked again as the shades of purple faded away and let out a startled gasp. Upon gazing out of the cockpit window he could see why the navy had wanted to cover up this place so badly.

Floating around them were dozens of lifeless wrecks of Mibari warships ranging from light destroyers to several cruisers. Compared to their tiny ship it was as if Melp and Galem had entered the realm of giants. Melp was transfixed by the wrecks and became utterly enthralled when a massive shadow draped across their vessel.

“Is that what I think it is?” Melp spoke sheepishly as his blue hands trembled and changed to a soft orange color. Galem leaned forward in his seat to look out the window and whistled as his eyes caught sight of what had terrified Melp.

“A galaxy class troop carrier.”

The massive ship spun slowly in place like a top that refused to stop spinning, the metal interior exposed in several places from weapons revealing a dark interior of metal supports and long dead hallways. Melp looked towards the front of the ship as the command deck slowly spun into view and he was surprised to see the name of the ship had survived the damage it had taken.

“The Vault of Ohya…” Melp softly spoke. He reached out with an arm and shook Galem who was smiling like a hatchling on birthing day. “That’s the Vault of Ohya!”

“A piece of her hull to the right collector would be enough to refurbish this little dingy,” Galem said as he playfully smacked the command console, “into one hell of a floating casino.”

The two of them broke down into fits of laughter as if they had just been driven mad by their findings; but it was not of madness that now drove them but the sheer joy of their discovery.

These dozen ships floating lifelessly in the cluster were more than enough to bring the two of them back into the life of luxury they once held and keep them there until their dying days.

Melp was still star gazing at the shattered troop carrier when something else suddenly grabbed his attention.

“What’s that?”

Melp tore his gaze away from the Ohya and saw what Galem was looking at.

A new vessel slowly drifted out of the shadow of the troop carrier and came into view. It was clearly a human vessel of some kind; the lack luster design a clear give away. The body of the ship was missing sections of itself, but rather than appearing as if it had been damaged in the battle it looked more as if the ship had not finished being built. Sections of the body were lacking armor showing a complex network of pipes and corridors. The hull was painted in a soft grey color that stood out sharply among the ever shifting gas cloud surrounding it. Rows of gun ports ran along the sides, their openings revealing nothing of the pitch black interior giving them the appearance of small gaping mouths ready to consume Melp and his ship.  

The more Melp looked at the ship the more he felt something was just wrong with it. Galem must have felt something as well as he pulled up the virtual display and began interacting with it.

“Not sure what that thing is but it’s not listed in the records.” He said as he closed the display and leaned over the controls to get a better view of it. The tingling feeling at the bottom of Melp’s three stomachs was starting to grow stronger as his uneasiness did not subside.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that there’s no record of that ship variant from the entire war with humanity on any recorded file.” He popped open the virtual display again and flicked it over so it was hovering in front of Melp to view while he fiddled with the controls again. “Which means it’s worth a whole lot more than anything here.”

“How do you figure that?” As a response to Melp’s question he waved his arm across the scattered wrecks.

“Out of all the ships here the human ones are all clustered around that one as if they meant to protect it.” Galem said as he began moving the ship closer to the strange human ship.

“They could have bugged out and ran, but instead they all fought and died just to protect that thing; which means something on it must’ve been worth defending.”

Melp knew what Galem had some merit, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was still very wrong; but before he could raise his concerns though a loud shudder ran through the scavenger ship.

“Get your suit on,” Galem said as he exited out of the cockpit, “let’s go find us some treasure.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If the exterior of the ship had uneased Melp, the interior down right terrified him.

No sooner had the airlock door opened the two scavengers leaped back in shock. Standing at the entrance was a humanoid looking figure. Galem screamed and grabbed hold of a nearby cutting tool and swung it at the figure before Melp could even say anything.

A shower of sparks eradiated off the figure’s body as the plasma torch cut into it, all the while Galem was continuing to scream, and cut a decent size hole through the beings torso.

“Shut it!” Melp shouted at Galem, forcing the scared halfwit to calm down some while Melp inched closer and retrieved the still burning plasma torch. The figure had not moved and inch even as the torch had melted away his exterior and as Melp moved closer still he noticed why.

“It’s an automated drone you idiot.”

Melp motioned him forward and the two of them inspected the machine.

It was human shaped but it was entirely of metal and wires, a mindless drone used for menial tasks such as inventory handling or maintenance. It wore a human uniform for some reason which clashed with its blank reflective visor face.

“Why’s it standing here?” Galem asked as he nervously tapped the drone. The touch pushed it off the ground and the dead drone slowly lifted off the ground in the zero-g environment and floated back into the ship, bouncing off the back wall before continuing to silently float away.

“Maybe it’s here to greet us?” Melp chuckled as he activated his mag locks and his feet latched on to the metallic floor. Galem followed suit and the two began entering the derelict ship.

“Can’t be,” Galem began as they reached the airlock secondary doors and began slowly opening them, “these tin cans would run out of power in a day and it’s been years since this tussle went down.”

With several loud grunts as the two strained with the manual release the inner airlock to the human ship finally cracked open. The two entered slowly, not knowing what to expect, and took stock of their surroundings.

They entered a long hallway that seemed to stretch out far into the distance passed the reach of their head lamps. Melp could see side corridors scattered every few dozen feet no doubt leading to other sections of the ship, but likewise they too were pitch black.

Something about Melp’s comment made him pull out his data scroll and do a quick scan. The device beeped rapidly as the scan commenced before ending with a loud “DING” and displaying a waterfall of information.

Melp read the data as the two continued to hover by the airlock entrance.

“It says here that somethings still giving off a power signature here.” Melp commented as he ran he scan again to be sure.

“Give it here,” Galem said as he turned to Melp with his hand outstretched, “you must be reading it-“

When Galem didn’t finish his sentence Melp looked up and saw something akin to a mixture of fear and surprise on his face. He was staring at something over his shoulder so Melp slowly turned in place , his magnetic feet latching heavily to the decking with each step like two magnets smashing together.

When he finally turned around he let out a yelp of surprise and tried to jump back, but his magnetic feet kept him firmly locked to the floor leaving him in an almost comical off balance state.

Standing directly behind him was another of the drones, this one dressed in what appeared to be some sort of security uniform even including an empty weapon holster at his side.

Neither of the scavengers knew how the thing got there as it most certainly hadn’t been standing there a moment ago. Before either of them could respond the drone’s visor lit up and displayed a pixelated face.  The visor was damaged with a deep crack running the length of it making the display flicker in and out on half the screen giving it an eerily ghost like visage.

“The captain,” the drone began as it stepped to one side of the hallway and extended a hand into the darkness, “requests your presence on the bridge.”

[yespleasetommyshelby]

Love in the 21st - Jay Halstead Fic - Two

"Alright, Halstead, Dawson, Lindsey, you guys breach first, the rest of us will follow behind." Voight instructed receiving nods from everyone as the first three made there way up the metal staircase of the old motel. Just as they reached the top bullets started flying as three men burst out of the room and ran for it round the back of the building, residents screamed and tried to duck to avoid being hit in the crossfire.

"Everyone move out and find them, Platt, you're with me!" Voight yelled through the coms, everyone holding their guns up as they raced to catch the shooters.

Following Voight's lead we made our way to the room that was our original target, I kept my gun up as Voight slowly pushed the door open fully and stepped inside, me right behind him. The rooms were covered in blood, noticing a trail on the floor I motioned over to Voight who nodded and began to follow. The trail led us to a bathroom where the body of a man was laid over the bath tub that was full of blood, but his head was resting on the sink, he'd been decapitated.

"Jesus Christ." I whispered to myself as the rest of the team came in after losing the suspects.

"That's Rev." Jay spoke as he took a closer look at the lone head sitting and watching.

"Get forensics down here, let's head back to base." Voight instructed walking out of the room. I started to follow until I heard what sounded like a sniffle coming from a closet in the hall.

"Hey, anyone checked in here?" I asked raising my gun as I received shakes of the heads from my team. Keeping my gun raised I slowly opened the door only to find a teenager sat in the back corner, looking scared out of his mind. "Hey, it's okay, what are you doing here?" I asked reaching out and watching as he slowly took my hand pulling himself up.

"They just barged in, I ran and hid in here, I could hear him crying man, he was begging for his life." The boy said as he stared at the ground, almost like he was reliving what just happened.

"What's your name kid?" Voight asked coming up besides me.

"D'Anthony, I'm just a runner, I swear!" He said holding his hands up in defense.

"It's gotta be a cartel, beheadings are their thing." Antonio said as he walked over to the three of us.

"Alright, lets head back to base, you're coming too kid." He instructed patting the boy on his shoulder.

------------

As we arrived back at the district Voight and Al took D'Anthony down to an interrogation room and came back up all of half an hour later with the name of a Columbian cartel hitman, Pulpo. That was an hour ago and since then we've got no closer to finding this guy's real name, let alone where he is.

"I gotta go talk to a CI, keep on digging and find me something on this piece of crap. Everything we do stays in-house, you tell me the truth so that I can lie for you." Voights loud voice carries through the bullpen as he walks away without a second look.

----

"This guy is known as Coop," Voight starts as he slaps another picture up on the board. "My CI says that this guy will know where Pulpo is, lets move out." He says, everyone rushing to the armory to get their gear.

As we approach Coop's place with our guns raised Jay signals that the door has been left open slightly, slowly and quietly making our way inside we clear the house room by room and it's empty, except for the body of man laying in a puddle of his own blood whose head sits on top of the counter lifeless, its own smaller puddle of blood slowly dripping down onto the floor.

"I guess this is Coop." Erin says taking a closer look at the lone head.

"Someone's cleaning house." I thought out loud receiving nods of agreement from my team members.

------------

"Hey Officer Platt, how's it going?" My Aunt's voice makes me jump as I walk past her desk towards the stairs leading to intelligence.

"Hey Sarge, how's it going?" I asked turning and leaning on the front of her desk.

"How's intelligence treating you?" She asked handing a patrolmen a set of keys without looking at them.

"So far so good, well, other than the cartel cutting peoples heads off." I said sarcastically just as the patrolman Kim, that I'd met earlier walked in looking rather pissed.

"Listen, I got a cousin in the morgue downtown, I need you to go and grab me something." Trudy started as she wrote an address down on a slip of paper before siding it over the desk towards Kim. "It's a small gold ring with a diamond, he wears it on his pinky finger of his left hand, get it and bring it to me." She instructed apparently not realising just how weird that sounded.

Kim turned to me looking just as confused as I felt. "I'm sorry Sarge, what?" She asked in disbelief as she looked at the address on the paper.

"The man owes me money, he's not getting out of it just because he died. Now go." She spoke shooing her away, with another odd look between me and Trudy, Kim slowly walked away looking back over her shoulder at me with a raised brow, I shrugged since I didn't have a clue what was going on right now.

"What cousin exactly?" I asked as I looked back at Trudy.

"On my mothers side, you wouldn't have met him, he borrowed four hundred bucks a couple of years ago and I want my money back." She said nonchalantly shrugging and going back to her computer.

"Right." I said slowly nodding. "I'm gunna head back upstairs, we do have a Colombian hitman to catch." I sighed turning and walking up to the hand scanner to buzz myself up to intelligence.

"Be safe!" She called just as I went through the gate.

"You know I will be!" I called back without turning around.

"I pulled Coop's phone records, there's multiple calls to the same number in the last week or so, problem is it's a burner phone and it's gone dead." Jay announced just as I got to my desk.

"Can you find out where the phone came from? There could be security footage of the guy who brought it." I said looking over at Jin, intelligence's resident tech guy, who nodded his head.

"Give me two minutes." He said before disapearring back to his tech cave, as I like to call it, Jay right behind him.

"The phone was brought in a store down on the south side, known territory for the Columbian Cartel." Jay says as he comes back up from the cave.

"Take Platt, go get me a name." Voight nodded before walking back into his office.

"Let's go mini sarge." Jay smiled as he walked past my desk. Narrowing my eyes at him I couldn't hep but laugh slightly, grabbing my coat and following him out.

----

"Ready?" Jay asks as we got out of the car and started walking to the store that sits on the corner of the street.

"You know I am." I grinned cheekily at him before pushing the door open and walking in. "Hey, we need a name of a guy that came in here just over a week ago and purchased a burner phone." I said getting straight to the point shrugging when Jay raised an eyebrow at me.

"I don't know what you're talking about." The guys said shrugging his shoulders and avoiding eye contact, a lone receipt apparently much more interesting than the two intelligence officers stood in his store.

"Come on man, we know it was brought from this store, so we aren't gunna leave until you give us the name of the guy who brought it." Jay told him motioning between the two of us only receiving a shrug in reply. Alright, we tried talking, let's do it my way.

"Hey Jay, a lot of stores round here get robbed quite often, right?" I asked looking over at him, leaning against the counter casually as the store keeper watched me with caution in his eyes.

"Uh, yeah, almost everyday." He nodded going along with me with a slight confused frown.

"And most stores keep a weapon of some sort behind the checkout right?" I asked him again receiving a nod and a confused look in reply. "I'm assuming you've got something behind there, am I right?" I spoke turning to the shopkeeper this time.

"Um, yes I have a bat, but it's totally legal man, it's only for self defense, I've never even used it." He admitted holding his hands up with wide eyes.

"Can I see it please, Sir?" I asked holding my hand out for the bat. With a sigh and a slight nod he reached down under the checkout and pulled out a wooden baseball bat that, like he had said, didn't look like it had been used.

Nodding my head slightly I held it by the handle tightly and suddenly swung, knocking down a display of sweets that was at the front of his store. Ignoring his yells for me to stop I took another swing, knocking bottles of this and that off of the shelves, he's lucky they were plastic or he would've had quite a problem there.

"You got to stop her man, come on." The guy yelled at Jay who was watching with a slight grin on his face, shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders at the man.

"Give me a name and I'll stop." I told him shrugging while slightly swinging the bat by my legs.

"I don't have a name." He yelled looking between me and Jay, who just raised an eyebrow at me.

"Alrighty then." I shrugged before I swung the bat into his shelves once more, only aiming to knock things off the shelf, not cause any real damage, but he didn't need to know that.

"Fine! Omar! Omar Rojas!" He yelled just as I raised the bat to swing again. "Just stop! Please!" He pleaded.

Nodding his head Jay patted the owner on the back. "See, wasn't so difficult was it?" He asked sarcastically as he stepped over packets and bottles that were littered over the floor to get to the door.

"You might wanna tidy up in here, its a bit of a mess." I smiled sweetly at the man before throwing his bat on the ground and walking out to be met by Jay.

"Hey, don't get me wrong that was real badass, but not exactly by the books." He laughed as we made our way to the car.

"Yeah well, what is it Voight said? Tell him the truth and he'll lie for me?" I asked with a laugh climbing into the car, him following with a laugh of his own.

Hey guys! So, I don't actually know how to creat links and what not on here (I'm on mobile) so I've tagged the series as 'love in the 21st One/Two/Three etc..

[anistarrose]

hello, my love (ao3)

a slightly late @taznovembercelebration fic for the day 19 prompt “established relationship,” albeit in possibly the least conventional sense of the phrase. in other words, this is the culmination of a lot of Blupjeans feelings I couldn’t not write about any longer

*

It — it feels wrong to say I’ll miss you, but —

No, I get it. It’s gonna be so fucking weird, and I — I know it won’t last forever —

Okay, I — I can’t do it like this. Not if we make it sad. Lup, I love you so much, you know you’re the light of my life and undeath…

Of course, babe.

…and I’ll see you soon.

The world Barry wakes up in is tinted green, obscuring everything besides a few ill-defined silhouettes. His limbs are numb at first, but as… red sparks? run down his arms, the feeling returns as a strange sort of weightless sensation, like he’s floating beneath the surface of a lake.

A few bubbles escape from his nose, and oh shit, he really is submerged in something. Before he can even wonder which way is up, his hand grazes something that immediately tears away — and with it drains out the mystery green liquid, which he’s just going to pretend is water. He staggers onto the floor of a cave, blinking rapidly as he adjusts to the light. It’s definitely a cave; he can feel the cool air on his skin and the bare rock beneath his feet — so why is it so bright?

The answer arrives in the form of a voice, whose owner becomes a little more visible to him with each blink of his eyes.

“Care for a towel? Actually, I’m giving you one whether you want it or not, ‘cause if you die of hypothermic shock after everything we’ve gone through to get here, that’s just gonna be awkward.”

She’s beautiful, he knows before he can truly see evidence of the fact. There’s so much care in her voice that her joke can’t disguise, and the towel she slings over Barry’s shoulders is warm, but not as warm as her hands. This feels like the correct moment to freak out over being, as far as Barry can tell, completely buck naked aside from the generous towel gift — but instead, his attention is captivated by his companion, who in complete contrast to himself, seems to be more clothes than body as she comes into focus.

It doesn’t feel right to say she’s wearing her red robe — it’s more like she embodies it, as it moves subtly to indicate her posture, her emotions, rather than to conceal them. What little of her that isn’t a robe is ablaze, but not violently — if Barry only had one word to describe her, he would simply say warm.

Her eyes are negative space amidst the flames, darkness where one would expect unbridled light, but there’s nothing sinister about them — more of a fascination, if anything, evident as she locks her gaze with Barry’s.

He’s been staring, hasn’t he? And she’s been staring at him.

He expects the sheer embarrassment of this whole situation to catch up to him any second, but it just doesn’t hit him. There’s nothing uncomfortable about sharing the room with her.

“Hi,” he says, giving a little wave. “I don’t know how I got here, but… I like your robe.”

She bursts into laughter, illuminating the cave in an ever-changing pattern of red, orange, and pink — and Barry can’t help but wonder if there are a few tears in the mix too, given how hard it is to tell on a face made out of fire.

“Oh, babe. Oh, Barry. Of course you would.” She brings a spectral finger to Barry’s face, evaporating a droplet of water with a single touch, but the warmth that rushes to Barry’s cheeks has nothing to do with the temperature of her hands, only her touch itself. “Sit tight for a second, babe. I’m gonna grab something you’ll like.”

Babe? He’s paralyzed for a few seconds, the word echoing in his head as she floats across the room, sifting through piles of scrolls, jeans, and miscellaneous other items that couldn’t be further from naturally occurring in caves. Does she know me? Does she like me?

He’s finished drying himself off by the time she returns, holding a second red robe — and a corporeal one, no less. She drapes it over Barry’s shoulders, and he slips his arms into the sleeves without thinking twice.

It’s cozy, but something about looking down at himself wearing it brings a fuzziness to his mind that’s not nearly as comfortable as the fuzziness of the fabric. He focuses his gaze on the ghostly woman instead — who makes his mind turn to static in her own right, but in a way that’s more than balanced out by the joy of just looking at her.

“See, we both look good in red,” she says with a wink, and Barry feels the temperature of his face rise another degree or two. He’ll wind up on fire like she is, at this rate. “You’ll want to sit down. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

“Yeah, I can imagine. Um, I think… I might be just a tiny bit amnesiac? Like, just a little. ‘Cause I know who I am, but you sound like you know me, and I don’t know you.”

He takes a deep breath, and decides there’s no harm in admitting what she’s surely already noticed. He’s been too confused to try and be subtle. “Also, I definitely just fell in love with you a couple orders of magnitude faster than I thought I’d ever fall in love with anyone, so that’s, uh… cool, but weird?”

The lower half of her face brushes his forehead — not quite solid, but not unpleasant — and he realizes just as soon as it’s over that it must’ve been a ghostly kiss.

“We were gonna ease you into the ‘us being in love and you losing your memories’ thing,” she tells him with a chuckle, and Barry’s too giddy to even wonder what she means by we. “Lay out the groundwork first. We should’ve known better.”

“My bad?” Barry blurts out, and that makes her laugh even harder, until embers are dripping from her eyes like glistening teardrops.

“Oh my god. This must — this must be so much for you, babe, so much to take in. How are you doing it? How are you — taking this so in-stride, and still sounding so much like you, I mean?”

“I mean… I wouldn’t know,” Barry admits. It is so much to take in, and he knows that if he’d woken up here all alone, with no idea how he’d arrived, then he’d be a mess by now — and not the hopeless romantic kind. As it is, he’s holding it together, trying not to think about his headache and taking comfort in the more pleasant of realizations — but he’s still adrift and disoriented, clinging to a figure he can’t remember his reason for trusting. “It — it doesn’t quite feel real, to be honest? Like, I — I believe you, I believe that I loved you — but it’s the forgetting that gets me…”

He can see himself falling in love, but he can’t see himself falling in this kind of love quickly. This soaring feeling in his heart could only be propelled by years of incremental intimacy, years that he can remember none of, years that don’t exist according to the static roaring inside his head. “How could I forget all this?”

She hugs him in a way unlike any hug he can remember, overlapping with the space he occupies until he’s engulfed in gentle flames, and the threads of her robe feel like they’re what’s doing the hugging, having reformed and rewoven themselves around his arms. Not knowing how else to embrace her back, Barry wraps his arms around his own chest, and feels her presence grow warmer still.

He can just barely wrap his mind around the thought that the warmth coming from his own chest might be borne of subconscious familiarity.

“You still have a big obvious head-over-heels crush on me, don’tcha?” she teases, her laughter surrounding him. “Nothing can make you forget that.”

“Yeah, every version of me’s a hopeless romantic. We’ve got that,” Barry admits. “But I — I don’t even remember your name —”

He would know it if he heard it, he’s sure; it’s so close to the tip of his tongue that he’d probably blurt it out instinctively, if only he didn’t always think so hard about his words before saying them. It’s so tantalizingly close, and he wants to know it again, to say it again, more than any other favor the universe could grant him, and doesn’t the universe owe him at least this much —

“Well, I know how to fix that.” She withdraws from the hug, remaining at his side. “And I think it’ll help if you hear it from yourself — if you hear all the truth we can give you, that is.”

She extends a hand, and a simple golden coin flies across the room to land in her palm. It’s embossed with a vaguely familiar rune that Barry can’t translate, but his mind really starts to reel when she places the coin in his hand, and he hears his own voice emanate from it:

Your name is Barry Bluejeans. You are afraid of the dark. Your very favorite thing in the world is swimming in very cold water on a very hot day, but you cannot remember who taught you to swim, or why you’re always so much more scared of the dark at the end of the year.

The beautiful undead woman next to you is named Lup, and as much as it pains you to realize, you have forgotten her, too. There are fundamental truths about the world, about your loved ones, and about yourself that you have been blocked from comprehending — you’ve had more stolen from you than you realize, and there are very few ways to undo it.

Barry, I’m you just moments ago, and I’m about to forget so much. But right now, I remember, and Lup can help you remember too.

Another voice joins the recording — Lup herself, who sounds just slightly different than she has today, just a little less burdened.

If you haven’t guessed from how this nerd talks about me — Her words are punctuated by an affectionate grumble from Barry — we’ve been dating longer than you can imagine. I wish we could just —

You also can’t remember that Lup’s as much of a nerd as you are, Barry, his past self interrupts. You met because you were both nerds.

Oh, come on, you’ll still be smart enough to figure that one out by yourself! But like I was saying, we had a hell of an epic love story I wish we could just tell you — but you wouldn’t be able to understand much of it, and you’d get a headache trying.

So, Barry adds, we thought about what would be the next best thing. And I think we got a pretty good idea.

A classical music piece fades in, beginning with a piano but quickly adding a violin. Barry can’t put a title or a context to the tune, but he recognizes it from the first note and starts tearing up by the third. His fingers tap out a pattern in sync with the piano part before he even realizes they’re doing it, and when he closes his eyes to let the music wash over him, he realizes that the Lup of the present, the Lup at his side, is almost imperceptibly humming along with the violin.

“You’ll remember this again,” she promises, choking up, when the tune eventually fades. “One day.”

Already, the music has stirred ghosts of memories, fleeting emotions, that Barry can almost imagine in context — quiet moments, private conversations that no one could rip away from him because no one else but Lup ever knew they’d happened — and that day feels close, reassuringly so.

Like him falling for Lup again, it feels like an inevitability.

[milstrim]

There is Good in the Dark

Chapter 2---Ever Had an Itch?

AO3 Link

Peter shifted nervously, eyes glancing around in suspicion as he pulled his hood tighter over his head and adjusted the bag looped over his shoulder. His hair had been on end all day, leaving him horribly tired and weary as he'd scoped out a few SHIELD buildings. Tony had said that he'd be doing the same for Squadron Tower, and the teenager had believed him, but he'd seen the billboards while he'd been swinging around the city.

'Elusive Supervillain Iron Man Strikes Against the Squadron Supreme in Manhattan!'

Because of course he'd gone after the Squadron. Peter wasn't sure if the fight had been intentional or not, but it still irked him that the older villain hadn't invited him. He could have helped! He was a great fighter--and didn't Tony trust him?

Peter shook himself, crinkling the plastic bag clutched in his hand nervously as he glanced around once more before slipping down the steps of a boarded off subway station. The stairway quickly faded to dusty darkness that would've stumped anyone else but the teenager peered through easily, icy blue eyes glowing in the shadows.

Every footstep was an echo as the teenager stepped over to a dusty, broken down subway train. Only the front of the train and half a carriage were visible from the tunnel. Windows were broken and paint sprayed in illustrative colors that had worn down from the years in the dark. The door to the head of the train was hinged open into its dark, cramped world.

Peter stepped through, grabbing the lever and pulling it down. When he let go it snapped back up, the base of it glowing blue. Peter stabilized himself, shifting on his feet, as the ground underneath him lit up in a bright blue circle. It twisted with a click, shifting and circling down until the train had disappeared and the teenager stood in a cylindrical high tech elevator. It was the color of bleached bones.

The teenager stepped out of the elevator the moment the doors slid open, finally allowing for his hood to fall off in the safety of his home. Well, more of a secret lair, but it was home to Peter nonetheless. For years with his dad.

"Play it again," echoed a voice only his enhanced ears could hear.

Speaking of.

He tiptoed through the halls of his and Tony's underground mansion, searching for where the man was. There was a lot to search. Most of the home shared the same bone white walls and floors, and he always had to screw up his eyes after a few hours at the brightness of it. Arc reactor blue lights lined the shiny pillars and doorways rather than traditional light placement. All in all the place was eerie, not at all homie, but it was still home.

Following the uneven heartbeat of his dad and the muttered muses of discontentment, Peter finally came across the room Tony was in. He stood in front of a wall of holograms, arms crossed and back straight. His leg tapped like it always did when he didn't understand something.

"Again," Tony ordered, unaware of the kid padding up behind him. Peter glanced at the screen disinterestedly before stopping and staring at the figures displayed on it, his eyes narrowing in confusion. It was all of the world's most wanted, save for him and Tony of course, but--weird. Peter didn't really have words to describe them. Stupidly bright, maybe? Clearly, Tony was having the same problem. "Ever had an itch you just can't scratch?"

"I cannot itch, sir, but watching you refuse to sleep is a close second," Friday responded humorously. Peter smiled, but refrained from laughing, placing a finger to his lips and glancing at the ceiling. Thankfully, the AI didn't say anything.

"Keep the attitude up and I'll give you an itch," Tony warned playfully. "Slow the recording down and play--"

"ATTACK!!!" Peter screeched, shooting up from behind Tony and grabbing him in a mock chokehold. The man froze with a rather unvillainous yelp, practically jumping as he shook the kid off and swung around, a gloved hand shooting out. The teenager grinned as Tony went from tense to practically drooping with relief.

"Kid."

"Hey, Dad. How was the Squadron?"

"Peter, please. I have a heart condition."

He stepped forward, shouldering the older man playfully. "I'm not the one who attacked Earth's defenders today."

"I didn't plan on it."

"Didn't really look that way."

"Well, I didn't," Tony protested. He glanced down at the plastic in Peter's hand. "What's with the bag?"

"Oh." Peter glanced down, lifting it higher. "Dinner! I got Japanese. From a place across from the newest SHIELD hideout."

"Did anyone see you?"

"Nope."

"Great."

Tony ruffled his hair, and Peter ducked away with a displeased grin, dashing towards the table that held Tony's headpiece in the middle of reconstruction, clearly having been damaged during his fight today. The boy set the food down, taking out the cartons of fried rice and the sushi. Tony grabbed his own box, picking up a pair of chopsticks and twirling them around elegantly.

"How'd you pay for this?"

Peter stuffed a piece of sushi in his mouth with his fingers. Tony scrunched his nose up at him in playful disgust. "I took your card."

"No stealing?"

"From a local business? We're villains, not bastards."

Tony laughed and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you act like one. Don't eat sushi with your hands,  you absolute animal."

"I can't figure the chopsticks out! They're too complicated."

"Oh, so you can build a bomb to escape SHIELD when you're ten but you can't eat sushi right?"

"That about sums it up, yeah," Peter quipped, taking a sip from a Gatorade he'd grabbed from a bodega. Tony rolled his eyes humorously. "So what's with the video? Is the Captain joining the US military or something?"

"He does look it," Tony agreed. "But not as far as I know. You know that red stone Mr. Sorcerer-From-Another-Universe has?"

"Uh, yeah? We've been trying to get it for months, Dad. I know what it is."

"Just checking." Peter stuck his tongue out at Tony, who blew a raspberry in response. "Anyway, I hit that thing earlier. It did this."

His adoptive father nodded his head toward the screen. The footage backed up and allowed Peter to watch the recording from the suit as Tony's repulsor blast hit Beck's glowing palm, the red waves that split the sky bursting from it, and the changes that fizzled between the waves. Peter squinted at the screen as the video came to a close.

"What do you think it means?" Peter asked, turning towards the man, who had focused in on the video once more, his face deceptively calculating.

"That's the itch," he pointed out, staring at the screen for another moment. "Quiz Time." Peter groaned, stuffing another piece of sushi in his mouth rebelliously. "Relax your teenage angst, kid, it's not bad. Hulk?"

"Radiation experiment gone wrong," he said immediately as if reading off a flashcard. "An attempt on what made the Captain, well, the Captain, by Bruce Banner. Dr. Banner's gone now that the Hulk's overtaken him. He's not smart, less wanted for villainy and more the destruction he causes and what he can provide militaries. Danger level: High."

"Black Widow."

"Superspy gone rogue. SHIELD tried to contain her but she killed every agent sent her way. No known motives but can take down countries overnight. Danger level: High."

"The Falcon."

"Deranged war hero. Was sent on an unknown suicide mission with his friend, he survived and the friend didn't. Motives are mostly against US military missions--good for him--and warmongering politicians. Danger level: Medium."

"Thor."

"A badass."

Tony gave him a look. "Try again."

Peter sighed. "A Norse God thrown out from his home with a super cool hammer. No known motives, likes to start shit. Danger level: Super-mega-ultra high."

His dad rolled his eyes with a crooked smile. "Hawkeye."

"A circus runaway. SHIELD attempted to recruit him but he betrayed them. Targets SHIELD, gangs, and wherever he can get a quick buck. Danger level: Meh."

"And the Captain."

"The creation of Howard Stark and Dr. Abraham Erskine. He was meant to be the Allies' savior, but he defected to Hydra. He ended up frozen in ice for like a million years before being thawed out by SHIELD and breaking away from Hydra. There's only been three confirmed sightings of him over five years. No known motives. Danger level: High."

"Good job, you passed. Barely."

"Barely!?"

Tony raised an eyebrow at him, waving a finger accusingly. "Stop fanboying over Thor. He could kill you in an instant."

"Pshh. I could take him."

"No you couldn't."

"Or I could just woo him into being my new dad. It worked with you."

Tony gasped, placing a hand over his arc reactor. "You little--" He cut himself off, fake offended. "You're a little shit, I hope you know that."

"I know, Dad," Peter laughed, bumping into him gently. Tony rolled his eyes, graciously pulling the teenager into a half-hug. "So, what are we gonna do about Fashion's Most Wanted?"

"I've got a theory. And a plan."

"Really. A whole plan?"

"Ehhh, 12% of a plan."

Peter huffed, "Fun. When do we start?"

    A dark figure was crouched, held tight against a building. A deep black and red shield was clenched on their arm, its shine the only thing visible in the night. Steve Rogers was a professional of stealth, accustomed to the ebony and arctic of the night.

Footsteps echoed in the emptiness of the building, and Steve tensed by the doorway where he was flattened against the dark bricks, his shield at the ready. A shadow in the night, he stood completely still until a figure stepped innocently through the door. Quick as a rattlesnake and silent as a mouse, he struck.

The man toppled. Steve caught him before he thudded to the ground, dragging him across the dirty cement and slipping the SHIELD agent behind a dumpster. He didn't bother to tie him up. Steve knew he'd be quick enough.

The Captain shifted through the doorway, every footstep light, and into the dusty light. As best he could, the soldier stuck to the shadows, thankful for the way the lights dimmed and flickered. The SHIELD building was old, but its information invaluable. The thought of what he might find spurred him forward to where the hallway was even brighter.

People were in that hallway. Two. They talked importantly, voices low, towards Steve. He ducked behind the doorway and out of the yellow light that shone from the hall, drawing his shield off of his forearm with a metallic sheen. He took a step forward, his maroon boot interrupting the golden light and the women's conversation.

They froze, looking up at him in terror before drawing guns from their hips. They didn't catch more than a glimpse of him before he'd thrown the shield. It bounced off the floor and zoomed around the ceiling. The dark red and black took the light with it as it shrouded the hallway in darkness. It returned to Steve seamlessly.

"We know you're there," came a voice. "Show yourself."

Silent, he threw the shield again. There were two thuds against the ground.

Steve dashed through the hall. And he brawled through the building.

Every hallway was the same. Agents, unaware and caught by surprise, left in the darkness and alone as he took the cameras out with his shield as well. Bodies dropped, gunshots flew, and in every room Steve was left unscathed. His reputation--the myth, a whisper, unknown--was well earned.

In barely six minutes, every floor had been cleared. Almost every floor.

The Captain slipped into the hallway of the last floor, leaving the dark and chalky stairway behind. The hallway itself was almost as dark as the stairwell, save for the light that trickled from underneath a closed door. He stalked closer, footsteps light and shield outstretched threateningly. He stopped outside the door and waited, listening to the murmured voices.

"...what was with that energy surge in New York?"

"Nobody knows. News cameras were wiped, all they showed was Iron Man wreaking havoc."

"Smart. A controlled narrative. Then again, that's all the world is now," snipped a voice. Steve furrowed his brows, searching for where he recognized it, but nothing was found. "Any news on the kid?"

"He's been at the fake SHIELD bases in New York, but the illusion's only been up for a few weeks. All things considered, he's been pretty tame. No burglaries or break-ins like the other 'villains.'"

"He knows?"

"We broke free," the woman responded as an answer. Her voice was familiar too.

"We weren't on Earth when it happened," the man argued.

"But the illusion still doesn't affect us while we're here."

"Well, at the very least, whatever happened effects him less than the others."

Steve's thoughts were racing, confused and trying to keep up with uncontextualized conversation. Illusion? Not on Earth? And what kid? Most strangely, his heart gave a painful tug at the mention of Iron Man, and he didn't know why. It almost hurt. Scratch that, it did hurt.

The super soldier shook his head, breaking free of the thoughts. His eyes flashed icy blue. He just had to get what he'd come here for and leave... What had he come here for? He furrowed his brows. There'd been a reason, he remembered he'd cared a lot about it, but now that he was here--the Captain was strangely lost.

He took a step back, hesitated, and then barreled through the door.

The metal hinges crunched underneath his force, creaking and groaning loudly but unable to cover the sound of guns clicking to action. He raised his shield to his face, crouching behind it for a moment as gunfire rained, clinking off of the metal harmlessly. There was a panicked yell of, "Fall back, Fury!!"

Steve threw his shield in the direction of the yell, diving behind a pile of crates at the familiar motion of the vibranium jumping from his forearm. It bounced with a schwing! knocking down the woman and zipping back to him. It sliced into a crate just above him, and he plucked it off of the splintered wood.

A gun cocked. Steve dared a glance around the crates.

The man was tall, dark, and intimidating. The way he held himself told Steve all he needed to know about what he could do, forcing him to duck behind the crates again in caution. He readjusted his shield with two thoughts: This man is dangerous, and, This man is familiar.

He didn't appreciate either of them.

"Steve?" the man dared, his voice hard. "If that's you I swear to God when we get out of this I'm taking that shiny shield of yours."

Steve hesitated. "You know me?"

"Yeah. You know me?"

His eyes flashed blue. His voice turned robotic. "You're Nick Fury, head of SHIELD. Tyrant do-gooder."

"Sure. I'll take it. Do you know who you are?"

The blue in his eyes dimmed to its natural darker color, warm instead of icy. Confusion, but not quite realization. "The Captain. And I'm here for something, so if you don't mind--"

"I mind," Fury interrupted. "What are you doing in Ireland, Rogers?"

"A mission."

"On what?"

"None of your concern," he answered shortly. He wished he knew.

"See, I think--"

Steve didn't think anymore. He swung out an arm and his shield flew off. There were gunshots, slowing the shield off of its course as Fury dived. The soldier jumped, gripping the shield as it bounced back, landing atop Fury. He buried a heavy foot on the man's leg, holding his shield out, ready for the fire of Fury's gun pointed upward.

Fury licked his lips. His words serious, his tone daring. "Are you gonna kill me, Rogers?"

The Captain stared down, his eyes narrowed. Killing Fury would be logical. SHIELD was his enemy. SHIELD was the enemy. All the missions, all the years spent fighting and tracking--the Director of SHIELD was the endgame... Wasn't he?

Fury took his silence as an answer.

"If you are, I'd hold off for a minute." The man nodded towards his left. Steve glanced.

There was a screen, portraying Iron Man, a bright explosion behind him. The video shifted, waves of red and blurred figures hidden from clear view. He squinted. Another tug, confused and--

Lonely.

"We're counting on you, Rogers."

"You shouldn't."

Against everything he'd ever known, Steve stepped off the man, lowering his SHIELD. Fury opened his mouth to say something, but whatever it was, he didn't stick around to find out. The only traces that Steve had ever been there was an open window on the seventh floor and the two high-level SHIELD personnel he'd left alive for some reason still unknown to him.

    A duffel bag thumped against the floor next to a cheap hotel bed. The springs of the mattress creaked as Steve sat down on it, running a hand through his tussled, damp hair and clicking on the news on the fizzled old television. The shower had been refreshing, but not relaxing. There were still so many questions left unanswered, leaving the man more exhausted than he'd ever been. His whole body ached with confusion and that haunting feeling of loneliness that had tugged when Iron Man had been mentioned.

The feeling had died down some since he'd escaped from the SHIELD base a few hours ago, but it had yet to be smothered, and despite how much it hurt, Steve was grateful.

He didn't know how long exactly, but everything had felt murky for a while. Distracting. Foggy clouds of muddled memories and feelings and motivations. Why had he gone to that SHIELD base? Why did he go to any SHIELD base? Why did he let Nick Fury go? Why did he avoid his home in favor of destroying people and places he didn't know?

There were answers, but they weren't the ones that he wanted.

He went to SHIELD bases because they were the enemy, Hydra had taught him that. And he didn't go back to Brooklyn because the entirety of the United States was prepped to kill him. But why?

Why be loyal to Hydra? Why hurt others who didn't deserve it in the slightest?

His head told him everything Hydra had ever told him, his life had ever told him, about loyalty and values and justice--but his gut said different.

"...another warrant and surge of military power has been shifted to deal with the threat of Iron Man," commented a news reporter, catching the soldier's attention. Steve looked up from where his face had been pressed into his clamped hands to stare at the television. The pang that had been fading gave another strong tug as a picture of Tony Stark was flashed on screen. "This comes just after the villain's most recent attack on the city of New York and the world's mightiest heroes, the Squadron Supreme."

Steve almost laughed. The public worship of the Squadron Supreme never failed to amuse and baffle him. Their name was particularly dreadful.

"Mysterio, also known as Quentin Beck, Earth's resident sorcerer from another realm, assured the public in a call with the White House earlier today, that in response they will take more whale methods to assure this detrimental threat is taken care of. Here is a clip of that call."

The screen changed. In the middle was black, ready for the transcript of the call, while on either side of the screen sat the dignified faces of the president and the sorcerer.

"As the head of the Squadron Supreme," the president started. "What are your plans to fix this blight on our peaceful American ideal?"

"Certainly the team is still conferring, as we don't operate on just one view, but the general consensus is to get to Stark before he can start attacking anywhere or anywhere else."

"Will that work?"

"It will," Beck assured. "My team is the best there is, and Stark is barely anything. We've been holding back, trying to exercise some tolerance and take him in so that he may face the justice of your great world, but I believe we've reached the point where his danger is too great and there can no longer be any doubt on taking him out." Steve's eyes narrowed in anger. He paused, confused at the defensive response, before shaking his head and tuning back in. "This goes for a lot of other terrorists that have been so graciously tolerated."

The president let out a shocked yet dismissive huff. "You can't possibly expect to take down all of the Most Wanted."

"Within the week, I can promise you that, Mr. President. Starting with Iron Man and all the way to even the Captain."

There was a noise as the president moved to say something, but the last of the clip was cut off, returning to the news anchors. Steve muted the television, staring at the wall above the crackling box. His brows furrowed. He just-- he didn't understand.

The TV flashed, catching his attention. Steve glanced back down, his heart skipped a beat at the image on screen. It was Iron Man and Spider-Man. It was a photo of the two, clearly taken while they had been attacking something or other. Stark's mask was off, showing off his shiny blue eyes and dazzlingly sharp smile. Spider-Man's mask was on, but the man's posture told him everything he needed to know. He was excited, and he was safe, even with guns pointed at him.

Stark and Spider-Man were a family, and, looking at them on screen, a little bit of his lost feeling was taken away.

Steve glanced down at his bag and then back at the television. Quick footed, he grabbed it and left without another word, searching for the first flight to New York.

// Ch 1 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8 //

[wienerbarnes]

Secret’s Out

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 1,796

Warnings: not much, brief slight angst i guess

A/N: back on my cheek to cheek bullshit 😌 after this one, im going to be posting some oneshots that date back to some of reader’s background and times before bucky! which im excited for :D enjoy!

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

Another mission, another briefing. You get the alert the morning of, the last minute meeting blaring in your room as you make yourself breakfast. You sigh and turn the stove off, accepting that you won’t have time to finish cooking and make it to the conference room in the next five minutes. You take the time instead to get dressed in what you normally wear to briefings and take your coffee to go.

When you arrive, there’s no one in the room, no one besides Sam and Bucky. Was the meeting for nine and not eight? Are you freakishly early? Could you have actually stayed and eaten your eggs and toast?

“Do you know what this is about? Because he won’t tell me.” Bucky huffs at you playfully, not actually angry, but still annoyed at the fact that Sam refused to tell him anything that’s going on until you got here.

You shake your head to tell him you don’t and slowly make your way over to the seat next to Bucky as Sam’s voice booms in the room.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., lock the door.” A distant click is heard as your bottom meets the chair and Bucky’s face becomes more and more confused.

Sam is silent for a moment, seemingly trying to figure out what words to say and how to start.

“I found a video of you.” He says.

“... What?” You whisper in disbelief.

“I was looking into your background. Specifically your HYDRA background. And I found a video that needs explanation.” As if on cue, a video is displayed behind Sam.

You are seen sitting at a small table, a small blender to the right of you. You look dangerously thin, hair greasy and matted, dark circles under your eyes. You have a crazy look in them, a look Bucky hasn’t seen since the first time he saw you in prison. This isn’t prison though, he very quickly realizes. Besides your body growing rigid next to him, he just knows that this is a HYDRA facility.

You’re humming obnoxiously loud in the video as a large man - presumably a Hydra scientist -  steps into frame. He wears a light blue button down shirt tucked into slacks underneath a lab coat. The tune of Singin’ in the Rain is all that’s heard for the first few seconds of the video as you stare up at the man, watching him as he checks the blender.

“Shut up.” He finally snaps at you, growing annoyed with your loud humming.

“I’m singing in the rain! Just singing in the rain! What a glorious feeling, I’m happy again!” You yell out, screaming out the lyrics in tune before a loud crack sounds, as the man in the lab coat slaps you hard across the face.

Bucky flinches next to you and you barely remember what this video was. You’re more consumed by the fact that Sam was doing some kind of background check on you for some reason and the fact that there’s a video at all. I didn’t know they recorded me.

You seem to hold back a smile at the man, as though he told some amazing joke and you’re trying not to laugh, despite having been backhanded across the cheek.

“Turn on the blender.” The man commands.

“That’s a very nice shirt you’re wearing.” You compliment.

He ignores you as he waits for you to turn on the blender. Bucky looks closely at it, but the button is on the side closest to the handler. He takes a wild guess that they don’t expect you to just reach around and switch it on with your finger.

You suddenly remember what this video is. And you realize why Sam is so angry. This isn’t good at all.

“It’s a nice shade of blue. A calming shade of blue. Like a sky blue.”

“Shut up. Turn on the blender.”

“No, no, not a sky blue. More like a… cerulean.”

“So what, you like my shirt. Turn. The. Blender. On. Now!” He commands, voice raising as his patience wears thin.

“Cerulean… blue. A nice shade… of cerulean… blue…” You drift off.

That’s when Bucky sees it. A small label on the blender, Cerulean. Before his thoughts can spiral too deeply into the name of the blender, it's a loud whirring sound in the video, making him flinch once more.

Nobody touched the blender, it seemed to have powered on by itself and a wide smile grows on your face, the same one he saw in the other video he’s seen of you, when you escaped the Hydra facility. You giggle girlishly as the man leans forward and shoves his hand into the powered blender, blood splattering out of it immediately, spraying across your face and your smiling teeth and tainting the blue of his shirt and lab coat.

Four men crowd you, holding you by the head, by the neck, by the shoulders, gripping your chin even though you barely moved through the duration video and the shot switches to black before powering off completely.

Bucky finally peels his eyes away from where the video was playing to look at you, and you look terrified.

“Sam,” You try to start.

“Mind. Control.” He says.

“Sam -” You try again.

“You hid mind control from us!” He yells.

“I can explain! “You better, and I’m only giving you thirty seconds to do so.” He snaps.

“It - It was fight or flight! I don’t even know how I did that! I barely remember that video at all! I’ve only ever been able to do that one other time! Sam - Sam -” You stutter, “They injected me with all kinds of shit, kept me awake for days on end, fed me, starved me; they did anything to manipulate my body in order to manifest powers. You have to - to - to believe me, I don't know how I did that -”

You’re getting hysterical. You can not fuck this up. You can’t be on your own again. You can’t be living in fear all the time anymore, you can’t go back to that. You can’t be away from Bucky, you can’t lose Bucky, can’t lose Bucky.

“Sam, that’s enough.” Bucky finally speaks up.

“Buck, I know she’s your little girlfriend, but -”

“Sam, do you hear yourself right now?! Look at her!” You’re on the verge of hyperventilating and overall losing it.

Bucky doesn’t pay Sam attention long enough to hear anything he’s going to say before ducking down to where you hold your head in your hands.

“Can’t… can’t be alone again… no, no, no,… can’t” You mumble to yourself.

Sam takes a deep breath, calming himself in order to assess the situation before him, “Hey. Hey!” He snaps, catching your attention and making you look up, tears in your eyes.

“I may be angry at you for keeping this from me… but you’re not going anywhere. Do I wish you would’ve told me so I wouldn’t be surprised by some ominous video this morning? Yes. But we’ll figure it out. We’re a team and I’m not abandoning you. So stop the crying so we can deal with this. Because you need to tell me everything.” Sam tells you with seriousness in his voice, the Captain coming out.

You take a deep breath and wipe your tears, preparing to tell them everything you can remember.

…

You’re exhausted. You cried. A lot. Trying to sift through thousands of memories you spent so long trying to repress because you never wanted to remember them; you never thought you’d need to.

You tell Bucky that don’t feel like being around anyone the rest of the day, and you’re glad he accepts that, letting you have your alone time and leaving you with a promise for breakfast the following morning.

Meanwhile, Bucky calls up an old friend, someone he hasn’t talked to in years. But it’s the only person he can think of that might be able to help you get a hold of your powers.

He sits on his couch in his apartment, phone against his ear as the line rings, before an accented voice finally answers.

“Hello?”

“... Hey.”

“... Bucky? Is that you?”

“Yeah. It’s me. How soon can you be in New York? From wherever you are? I need some help.”

Morning comes too soon for you, though.

“Agent 51?”

“Oh… my god. What do you want?” You groan, loving F.R.I.D.A.Y., but hating her voice so early in the morning, with only seven minutes to spare before your alarm was supposed to go off anyway.

“Your training has been canceled this morning by Captain Wilson. Instead, he has requested that you meet him in Conference Room B.”

“Ugh, at what time?”

“As soon as possible, Agent.”

“Holy shit,” You sigh, accepting that you won’t be able to sleep anymore, “Fine, I’ll be there in ten minutes.” You hope that Bucky somehow knows your training is canceled and brings you breakfast in the conference room anyway as promised yesterday.

Making your way to the conference room with your coffee in hand for the second time in the span of two days - which you hope doesn’t become a routine - you might add, you make sure to rub a hand across your head, smoothing down any hairs sticking straight up at weird angles now that the hair is growing back. It’s only maybe an inch or two long, but not long enough to do anything to it and not short enough to ignore.

Entering the conference room, you see Sam, Bucky and some… woman, her back turned towards you. You close the door timidly behind you and Bucky turns around to greet you, styrofoam box in hand and the smell of bacon and toast hits your nostrils. Knew it.

“Brought you breakfast, baby.” He tells you with a smile, walking up to you to plant a soft kiss on your lips in Good morning.

“Ugh, ew.” Sam spews. The woman giggles at his reaction and you’re brought back to the stranger in the room.

“Who are you?” You ask, not really wanting to beat around the bush considering that Bucky just kissed you in front of somebody you don’t know, something he’s never done before.

The woman turns around and you take in her features. High cheekbones and big green eyes, she’s very beautiful but very… young. Like, really young. Younger than you, for sure, but not a teenager either. She wears what seems to be casual clothes, her nails painted dark with rings crowding her fingers. Her most striking physical detail, though, are the long waves of bright orangey-red hair, flowing across her shoulders.

She smiles at you sweetly, and you feel calm as she introduces herself, “Hi, I’m Wanda.”

[finalgilmoregirl]

just in time (bucky barnes x reader)

summary: bucky hears your music in the middle of the night, and sees you in your natural state for the first time. lightly inspired by the song ‘just in time’ by tony bennett !

warnings: none :) just fluff !

a/n: ooooo first one-shot & it’s of bucky! yay! i hope you enjoy this, ive had this idea in my head for weeks & im glad i’m finally writing it. acne is something i struggle with so i can relate to this and maybe you will too! <3 also sorry for any mistakes!!

————————————

It was another one of his many sleepless nights. Even after months of therapy and his nightmares actually lessening, there still came nights where he was afraid to go to sleep. No matter how comfortable he got, Bucky was still anxious at the thought of his mind forcing him to dream of his old life, afraid of seeing the faces of the innocent souls he killed.

He couldn’t stand just laying in the dark either. Bucky felt like he should’ve been doing something if he wasn’t sleeping, but he felt far too tired to even want to do anything else than sleep. All he wanted was to relax.

As he turned over for what felt like the hundredth time, he heard something. At first he thought it was someone talking, but the voice didn’t sound like anyone he knows in the compound....’Is that music?’ he thought.

The song sounded familiar, and thanks to his super-soldier hearing, he was quick in identifying the specific voice. Tony Bennett.

He was a fan of the singer. When he was busy catching up on music and pop culture, he found himself listening to music from the 40s and 50s the most. He felt at home listening to songs with big bands playing in the background and raspy voices singing the lyrics.

He was no longer tired as he pulled the messy covers off of his body and began to stand up. He was curious to know who was listening to music at this hour. Maybe even praise them for their good music taste. As he walked down the hall to the door next to his, he was pleasantly surprised to learn the music was coming from your bedroom. He could see the dim light coming from under your door, and now he was curious to why you were up so late, seeing it had to be at least 2:30 right now.

Surprisingly, Bucky wasn’t as nervous as he thought he would be, considering he was standing at your door in the middle of the night. He’s had a growing crush on you since you first joined the team, around 4 months after he did. Now it being a little over a year and a half since you joined, he’s gotten comfortable around you to the point where he can talk to you about most things, even the nightmares that came back now and then.

And of course you had the same feelings for him, he was just as suave as you imagined, him being known as a ladies man in the 40s. Although he was more timid now, after getting him to open up, you would’ve never guessed how much of a delight he was to be around.

He knocked on your door, and it wasn’t until after he did that he realized what he was doing. ‘Knocking on a girls door in the middle of the night, are you crazy?’, he thought as he felt his heart beat a little faster. ‘What if she was asleep? What if she was working on something? What if she had company?’

All those thoughts cleared in a second however, when you opened the door and looked up at Bucky’s tall frame in the dark hallway. You were wearing a t-shirt that was definitely 3 sizes too big, and biker shorts that peeked out the bottom of the shirt. Your hair was in a ponytail, fly aways and loose strands framing your face. He looked at your face once again, barely visible in the dark light, Bucky only able to make out your eyes and lips.

“Bucky? What’s up?”, you asked, a hint of confusion and even worry in your voice. Bucky forgot why he was here until he heard the music again.

“I couldn’t sleep and I heard your music. Just thought I’d come by to see where it was coming from.”, He said, shrugging his shoulders and putting his hands in his sweatpants pockets.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry! Did I wake you?”, You quickly asked, now feeling guilty at the thought of him not being able to sleep because of you.

“No, no! I was tossing for hours doll, don’t worry it wasn’t you. Just couldn’t sleep, is all.”, He assured you.

You sighed in relief as you opened the door more, wordlessly inviting him in. He accepted your silent offer and sat on your bed as you went to the record player in the corner of your room, turning it down a little, so you would be able to talk without having to raise your voices too loud.

“You like Bennett?”, Bucky asked, sitting on your bed. You giggled and turned to where he was, and nodded. “Yeah. Something about music like this just makes me feel safe. I don’t know it’s weird.”

“I don’t think it’s weird. I love it. Reminds me of the good ol days.” he said, laying back on the bed with his hands under his head, even though the pillows were just a few feet away. You hummed as a way to show him you understood.

“Sorry I don’t look presentable. I wasn’t really expecting guests.” You laughed with a hint of nervousness, sitting cross legged and facing him.

He furrowed his brows and turned his head, and that’s when he got a clear view of your face.

Your bare face.

He was a little surprised to say the least. He’s never seen you without makeup. In the entire time he’s known you, you’ve always worn it every single time he’s seen you. Always powdered up to perfection with your long lashes curled and shimmer making your face look almost reflective in the light. But this was the opposite and he was at a loss for words.

“You- You’re not- your face....”, he stuttered. He didn’t mean for it to come out as mean. If anything his heart was soaring at the sight of you. However you thought differently.

“Jeez Buck. Way to make a girl feel good about herself.”, you said, covering your reddening cheeks with your hands. “What you’ve never seen a girl without makeup? I knew it was bad but I-“

“No no no!”, he interrupted. He lightly grabbed your wrists and lowered them, so he could get a good look at you. “I was just surprised. You look just as beautiful without it. I’ve never seen you without makeup and I just, wow. You look adorable.”

He started to observe your clean face, taking in every freckle and scar. Every little splotch of red and the light bags under your eyes. He was seeing a side of you he’s never seen before, and another side he fell in love with after only seeing it for a second.

“Oh stop.”, you rolled your eyes. “I wear makeup so you wouldn’t have to see my flaws, not so you can stare at them.” she joked, but Bucky could tell this was something she struggled with.

“C’mon doll you think a few scratches are gonna scare me away? You think I like my scars? Nothin’ to be ashamed of.” he said, patting your leg and sitting up to be at eye level with you, even though he still had to look down, him being taller and all.

You looked so natural and pure. Glowing, even although that could’ve just been the lotion you’d applied earlier. You felt your cheeks burn for a different reason too. He said you were beautiful in what you thought was one of your worst states.

“I don’t think you should wear makeup anymore.”, Bucky stated, confidently. You snorted at that.

“Of course I have to wear makeup Buck, I have to look presentable. I can’t let people see me like this.”, you sighed.

“Well at least don’t wear it so much around me. It’d be a shame if I didn’t see this at least once in a while.” he yawned, laying down, this time his head on a pillow.

This wasn’t unnatural, you had movie nights and hung out in your room in the past. He knew he was getting brave though, falling asleep on your bed, when you hadn’t even invited him in the first place. But he couldn’t help it. He actually felt relaxed.

“Alrighty then, Soldier. I’ll try not to. But just for you.”, you said, nodding. You lied next to him and faced him. You started to feel brave too.

“Y’know...”, you started. “I had a bad dream. That’s why I had my music on. I was hoping it would help me sleep. But I guess with you here, maybe I’ll sleep even better.”

Bucky just smiled. You pulled your thick blanket up to cover the both of you and got comfortable, almost laying on him with how close the two of you were. He draped an arm on your side and continued observing your face. He was still fascinated by it.

And just moments later, you fell asleep. Bucky did too, a few minutes later, with the voice of Tony Bennett playing softly across the room, the song feeling perfect in this moment.

'Cause love came just in time

You found me just in time

Then you changed my lonely life

That lovely day

a/n: thank you for reading!!! :) don’t be afraid to leave a request and tell me what you thought. <3

[florenceandthemachine]

talk to me about king christopher, intentionally or not, helping his two dads figure out they’re in love with each other 🤗 xoxo

cailee, you beautiful wonderful tropical fish, did you know you had a direct line to my soul with asks like this?

There was a very, very good reason that whenever anyone asked Edmundo Diaz about his son, the first word that he used to describe Chris was ‘smart’.

Chris was a caring boy, a kind boy, a kid who had known loss and grief in his life, more than any child should. He had survived earthquakes, tsunamis, surgeries, death, and that had shaped him into a kid that was incredibly sweet, empathetic, but most of all, smart.

Eddie knew it, of course; he was incredibly proud of his son, of the work he did in school, of the friends he made, of the person that he was growing into. Chris was bright, and he was bubbly, and he was whip quick in a way that Eddie sincerely wished he could be an adult, let alone as a kid—but that wit usually came as a double edged sword.

Because as proud as Eddie was of his son, Chris had a knack of thinking circles around everyone, himself included.

Eddie knew when he was being played for extra video game time, and knew damn well when Chris batted his eyes for a sick day from school, but Eddie figured that was about as far as things went. As far as Eddie was concerned, as long as his grades stayed up and he stayed happy with his friends, a little special treatment wouldn’t hurt.

So it only made sense that when Chris decided to wield his powers for good where his father was concerned, Eddie had no idea what was coming.

“Dad, can we go over to Buck’s house to play some video games tonight?”

Eddie smiled, watching Chris tilt his cell phone to get through whatever game he was playing in the rear view mirror as they made the trek home from Abuela’s. He had to admit, while the best possible thing that had come out of him joining the 118 was the easy friendship that he found with Buck, the easy friendship that Chris and Buck seemed to have made was a close second.

“I dunno buddy, Buck might already have dinner plans. Besides, you know it’s rude for us to invite ourselves over.” Eddie said, catching Chris’ eye in at a stoplight. He was thankful for their friendship, of course, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t feel a little guilty about monopolizing all of Buck’s time when they were both off the clock.  

The look Chris gave him was thoroughly unimpressed as he held up Eddie’s phone, speaking like it was actually paining him to have to explain himself. “Dad, Buck was the one who asked. He says we should bring over pizza!”

...okay, Eddie might have felt bad about being attached to Buck at the hip, but that didn’t mean he was about to deny himself the pleasure when Buck was the one to initiate some time together. And Eddie definitely wasn’t going to say no when he knew that Chris was looking forward to spending time with Buck just as much as Eddie was.

Even if Eddie knew he enjoyed Buck’s company for entirely different reasons.

“Hey, thanks for having us over.” Eddie said softly, once pizza had been devoured, and Buck had his ass thoroughly kicked (With Chris, Buck definitely threw his matches—but with Eddie, well, there was no denying the cry of defeat whenever Eddie skimmed past him into first). “Chris loves spending time with you, you make his night whenever he gets to see you.”

Buck grinned back at him, that easy smile that made Eddie’s heart do things he didn’t care to identify as he shrugged his shoulders. “You know I love spending some time with my Diaz boys. This was definitely one of your better ideas.” he said easily, clearing the table, sliding the pizza box into the fridge.

Eddie opened his mouth to respond, pausing before any words could come out, a curious look crossing his face. He reached around Buck and grabbed two beers, handing one to Buck after he cracked them open. “You mean, thanks for the pizza. This was your idea, after all.”

It was Buck’s turn to look confused, swallowing a mouthful of beer as he pulled his phone out. “No, Eddie, pretty sure you sending me a message that said ‘game night, we’ll bring pizza’ was pretty clear.”  

Eddie blinked as he looked at Buck’s phone—sure enough, the message was there plain as day, and he shot a curious look over to Chris, who was conked out on the couch. Buck followed his gaze, chuckling when he put two and two together, shaking his head. “Hey, go easy on him... after all, it’s not like I had any other plans.”

“Buck...”

“No, I’m serious.” Buck said, his face holding that soft, sweet grin. “After all, it’s... well, I like spending time with you. With, um, both of you I mean.” he murmured over the mouth of his beer bottle, pink raising in his cheeks as Eddie took a swig of his own. He didn’t trust himself to respond and instead linked his ankle with Buck’s beneath the table, trusting the gesture would say enough—and judging by the grin Buck shot him, the message was received loud and clear.

Unseen to either of them, Chris had a small smile on his face, peeking through his lashes as he watched the two from his space on the couch.

--

In retrospect, Buck probably should have asked what all was entailed in Career Day when Chris asked he and Eddie to show up to his school at 9am.

All he had expected was that he and Eddie would get to show the kids some of their tools, some of their gear, and then answer some questions. What he got was a room full of single moms (and dads) that were looking at Eddie like he was good enough to eat.

Which, let’s be real, Eddie was. Especially when he was partially suited up, PPE from the waist down, a 118 tee shirt, and the thick red suspenders to hold everything together. Saying he looked delicious was selling it short, but that didn’t mean Buck liked a room full of strangers being so blatant about it.

It was all he could do to stand back and not cause a scene as yet another mom walked up to Eddie and put her hand on his bicep, laughing at a joke far too loudly, for far too long. The only saving grace was the look that Eddie shot him while she had her head tossed back, rolling his eyes so hard that Buck thought he was going to hurt himself.

As Chris took his turn and made it up to the front of the class, Buck couldn’t deny feeling a little bit self conscious as he stood beside Eddie.

A room full of parents, with their kids, and then Buck.

He wasn’t jealous, okay?

And even if he was—

“This is my Dad, and this is my Buck! They’re firefighters!”

—Chris knocked that feeling out of him, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head as Chris started his presentation. A quick look at Eddie confirmed that he wasn’t the only one who caught the title, and he dipped his head with a little smile, not bothering to hide how pleased he was.

Pleased because he got to be Chris’ Buck. Not pleased because of the disappointed looks that he could see flicker across half of the single parents faces. Nope, that had nothing to do with it, and if it did, it was no secret that Chris was the real source of his joy.

“...they use their trucks and ladders to help keep us safe...”

Chris being an awesome kid was no surprise—Eddie was a great dad, okay?—but Buck still felt lucky that he got to see such a bright kid in his element like this, and even luckier that he got to help out whenever he could. He let his mind wander as Chris continued to speak, treading into dangerous territory. Chris had called him his Buck, so easily, like it was obvious, and for a moment Buck let himself wonder what it would sound like for Eddie to say the same.

“...and they’re super strong, too!”

Chris turned around, looking directly at Eddie, and Buck had to swallow a snort of a laugh as every eye in the room followed him. Eddie, to his credit, tried to save face, nodding his head. “Uh, we... workout every day?” he said, and Chris giggled as he looked over to Buck.

“Dad, you have to show them! Lift Buck up!”

Now it was Buck’s turn to feel every eye swivel over to him, and he was sure his face was bright red in record time. Was this part of the presentation? Did Chris mention this? Buck couldn’t be sure, but honestly, it didn’t exactly sound like something he would have agreed to. He caught Eddie’s eye and shrugged helplessly—after all, Eddie would be the one doing the heavy lifting, it was kind of out of his hands.

After a shared, barely-there nod, Eddie clapped his hands together, turning back to the class. “So, uh, this is called a fireman’s lift. It’s what we do when we have to carry someone out of a burning building, if they can’t walk out on their own. What we do is—“

“Have you ever had to do it before?” A blonde boy asked from the second row, his hand straight up in the air, eyes wide. His father, a corporate manager, didn’t look entirely pleased.

Eddie was all smiles, though, as he nodded and looked over to Buck. “We both have. Our job is to keep people safe, and this is the easiest way to do it.”

The clear hero worship may have helped Eddie become a little more comfortable, but for Buck, the situation didn’t matter—acting as a dead weight was always going to be a little weird. He sighed and opened his arms as Eddie stepped forward, and he was in the air before he could blink. He twisted his body as Eddie lifted so he could still face the class, focusing on Chris’ smile as his world went sideways.

If Buck thought it was awkward before, the dead silence that met him when Eddie spun around with Buck on his shoulders was completely deafening. It was all Buck could do to focus on keeping himself right side up, and not focus on the firm line of Eddie’s shoulders against his side, his strong hands on Buck’s thigh and wrapped around his arm—and thankfully Buck didn’t have long to follow that train of thought before there were twenty kids cheering for them, clapping wildly.

Okay, note to self; if you want to impress a room full of nine year olds, you just had to lift something heavy up.

Buck found himself smiling again, cheeks feeling permanently pink as Eddie brought him back down to the ground, turning to answer a few questions as they were swarmed with tiny bodies. He loved kids, he always had, and he was definitely in his element—but he couldn’t get the thought of Eddie’s hand on his thigh out of his mind.

He wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or a curse when the weight of Eddie’s arm looped around his waist, effectively anchoring him and sending him into another galaxy as Chris’ teacher took a picture of the three of them together.

As Buck leaned into Eddie’s touch, he couldn’t help but look down to Chris, who very much looked like the cat that got the canary—and Buck was content to assume that it was because he obviously had the coolest Career Day presentation.

After all, getting your Dad to deadlift your Buck certainly blew any investment bankers or realty agents out of the water.

--

“You know, if you actually want to watch a movie, you have to press play on the remote.”

“Shove it, Eds.”

His words were snippy, but Buck was all smiles as Eddie joined him in the loft, plate in hand, passing Buck a burger and a huge plate of chips as he crashed on the couch beside him. Buck had been listening to the menu theme of some action DVD that Chim had picked out for the better part of a half hour as he scrolled through his phone, his attention quickly pulled to the food. “What’s wrong, Bobby kick you off the grill again? Made you realize there was more to life than being a meathead?” Buck said with a teasing smile, and Eddie found himself laughing in spite of himself.

“Well, actually, Carla sent me a few pictures of Chris on his class trip to the zoo today, and I was going to show you, but...”

“Hey, no, what? I think it’s awesome that you’re a middle aged grill dad, you look great with that spatula, now show me the pictures!” Buck said, immediately back tracking, his pride an easy thing to swallow whenever Chris being adorable was involved.

Eddie snorted as he handed over his phone, letting Buck swipe through the photos, and if he happened to be looking at Buck more than he was looking at the photos, well that was his own business. Buck, mercifully, was plenty distracted—the sight of Chris and a peacock would do that to anyone, Eddie had already set it as his wallpaper.

“Eddie, your kid is so fucking cute.” Buck said as he looked back up at Eddie, smiling as he tapped at Eddie’s screen, undoubtedly forwarding a few of the images to his own phone. Buck’s phone was only second to Eddie’s when it came to cute pictures of Chris, and if Eddie had more than three brain cells bouncing around in his skull, he probably would have looked a little more deeply into that.

Eddie pulled his phone back as another message came through, eyes flickering over the text message as Buck took a huge bite of the burger Eddie brought him.

“Hey Buck?”

“Mmmphhgghh?”

“Say cheese.”

“Ehh, muhnuie!”

The picture was pretty disgusting, honestly—Buck had a mouth fit to bursting of burger, sauce and ketchup smeared over his cheek, eyes wide as he turned to the camera. “What? Chris wanted to see what we were doing today.” Eddie said innocently, saving the picture to his camera roll before sending it to Carla’s phone.

“Dad I need selfies of you and Buck!”

The message from Carla came through easy enough, though it was clear that Chris had taken over, and Eddie was still laughing at Buck when he read the message aloud. Buck’s scandalized look didn’t go away as he finally swallowed, and Eddie knew he was in trouble the moment Buck reached for his phone, ready for retaliation.

He couldn’t complain when he suddenly had an arm full of Buck, laughing easily as Buck fired up his selfie camera, but his laughter quickly turned into a sound of absolute horror as he felt ketchup against his cheek when Buck smushed their faces together, camera shutter firing rapidly.

“You are disgusting!” Eddie finally got out between laughs, shoving Buck aside, who looked all too pleased with himself as he furiously tapped at Eddie’s phone, undoubtedly sending the pictures to Carla (and probably Maddie, and Abuela, and maybe his own phone too).

He had to admit, when he finally got his phone back and looked over the pictures, he was a little uncomfortable—not because of the content, but because he had never known he was so fucking obvious when he was looking at Buck. He hadn’t understood the term heart eyes until now, and it kicked his anxiety up just a little bit—he needed to work on his subtlety.

Then again, the next time he caught a glimpse of Buck’s phone, he was stunned to see that the picture of the two of them had made Buck’s wallpaper...

...maybe Chris was on to something with the whole selfies idea.

--

“Hey Buck?”

“What’s up, bud?”

They had just finished what Buck would not hesitate to call one of the best nights of his life—Eddie and Chris had shown up with a truck packed full of food, blankets, chairs, and a huge, colorful umbrella. Buck had worried that Chris would be less than thrilled to be near the ocean after the tsunami, but his fears were completely misplaced—Chris took to the beach like a crab, and Buck’s heart felt lighter than it ever had every time he heard Chris’ laughter, getting to the point where he actually deleted a few apps from his phone to take some more photos.

The icing on the cake, though, was Chris insisting that Buck could read him his bedtime story that night. Eddie looked completely betrayed, even as he insisted it was fine.

It was fucking hilarious.

“You love me, right?”

Buck felt his brows raise into his hairline, closing the book as he nudged Chris’ shoulders. “Course I love you, buddy. You’re my favorite little man.” He said softly, the initial spike of concern easing in his heart when he watched Chris break out into a grin. He should have known it was a trap, but Chris was so cute, so unassuming, so—

“And you love Daddy too, right?”

—so damn sneaky.

Buck swallowed once he regained his bearings, nodding his head, glad for the dim light of Chris’ room to hide his blush. “Course I do kiddo. You and your dad are both very important to me.” Which, apparently, was the wrong thing to say, if the scrunch of Chris’ face was anything to go by.

“But you love him too, right? You love me and Daddy?”

Putting the long forgotten book down on the night table beside Chris’ bed, Buck pulled his arm around the kid easily, pressing a kiss to his mess of curly hair. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he opened his mouth to say something, anything, but the only thing that would come out was the truth. “Yeah, I love you and I love your dad too.” he murmured. It was the first time he had ever said that aloud before—and even as he felt his heart race, he felt lighter, to be able to get that off his chest, a secret that had been heavy on his heart for a long time.

“You should tell him that.”

Buck almost swallowed his tongue. Like he could sense his discomfort, Chris looked up, blinking owlishly without his glasses, a small smile on his lips. “It makes me happy when you tell me you love me. I bet it would make Daddy happy too.” he said with a little shrug, and Buck actually surprised himself with a little laugh.

“How did you get so smart, kid?”

Another kiss goodnight and Buck had the door shut behind him, walking on the balls of his feet as he returned to the kitchen, where Eddie was still scrubbing at a dish—and if that wasn’t enough of a red flag, the red tint to his cheeks and the way he shyly looked up at Buck told him all he needed to know. Shy was just not a typical look for Eddie.

“Edmundo Diaz, were you eavesdropping on your sons bedtime story?” Buck asked, his voice light and teasing, even as his face heated up. If Eddie had been listening in, there was no way to tell just how much he had heard, but while the thought usually pushed Buck into a spiral of despair, all he felt now was a strange sense of warmth.

Eddie looked up at him cautiously, chewing his lip. “What? It’s not my fault, I had to make sure the story you picked was up to his standards, and that you... did all the voices, and—“

“I meant it.”  

Wow, fuck, Buck just blurted that out. He felt his jaw clamp shut as Eddie’s gaze snapped to him, Eddie’s eyes as wide as his own.

“Buck...”

“I’m serious, Eddie. I meant it, I... I mean it.” Buck’s feet are moving of his own accord, closing the distance between them until Buck could reach out and touch Eddie if he wanted. Well, if he could get his arms to respond. “You and Chris, you’re the most important people in the world to me, and... and I do, I love you. And I think, I think you love me too.”

Eddie couldn’t think, couldn’t respond, couldn’t do anything other than move forward and pull Buck into his space completely. Their first kiss was a little rough—bumped noses, off center, but even then Eddie could feel fireworks—and when they reconnected, when Buck’s lips met his properly, it was all Eddie could do to remain upright.

He kept his hands around Buck when they pulled back to breathe, their foreheads resting against one another, and Eddie’s cheeks were literally hurting he was smiling so hard. Buck’s little laugh was all Eddie could hear, all he ever wanted to hear for the rest of his life—so he couldn’t be blamed for failing to hear a pair of little feet leaving the kitchen, back through the hallway, or the nearly silent closing of Chris’ bedroom door.

Chris didn’t need to stick around to see the end result—adults were so gross—but he was pleased enough to see that his hard work and careful planning had paid off, knowing that his dad and his Buck would be happier than ever now that they were finally smooching (even if it had taken forever!).

His dads were a little slow on the uptake sometimes, sure, but that was okay.

After all, Chris would be there to give them a little push whenever they needed.

[hawkbucks]

Prompt: AU where everything is the same except Howard wasn’t Uber-rich and Tony built SI ground up, focusing on clean energy and science and tech and Bucky meets him for the first time at the expo. (Nat can be his PA?) (modern setting AU?)

“What the fuck!” Bucky exclaims as he drops the laminated badge on the table. He stares at it in disbelief, ignoring Steve’s snickering. Then, he picks it back up and holds it up to the light coming in through one of the windows, scrutinizing it like a hundred dollar bill. His name is typed neatly in the middle, a string of words underneath declaring him to be a VIP pass holder which, holy shit. General admission tickets are hard enough to come by—they’re surprisingly cheap and, by that virtue, sell out faster than Bucky can recite the Stark Industries motto, but VIP passes? Those are usually reserved for rich tech enthusiasts. Insiders. CEO’s of the damn companies that went to the Expo to do some schmoozing, grandstanding, and bragging. People who are people. Not someone like… him.

“Nat thought you would like it,” Steve says, patting him on the back and picking up the now discarded box the badge came in. “Said that it’s her apology for not being able to celebrate with us today.”

“Natasha got me this?” He waves the badge around, wide-eyed, the laminate making wobbly noises with each pass back and forth. “How the hell did she afford it?”

Steve’s genial smile fades away, replaced by furrowed brows and a small frown. “She’s… Tony Stark’s PA.”

“What? Since fuckin’ when?” Last time Bucky checked, Natasha was still working in that old record store down the street with Sam and definitely not working as the personal assistant of one of the most influential men in the world of technology. Maybe the most influential, if Bucky is allowed to be a fanboy.

“Since 2 weeks ago?” Steve tilts his head to the side like a confused puppy. “Remember when she brought you that mug? She said that she told you right after.”

Bucky ponders for a second. “She might’ve, but honestly, I was distracted by th’ mug,” he admits sheepishly. It was a very good mug, in his opinion. It had Tony Stark’s signature printed on it, along with their signature arc reactor logo (and, given the chance, Bucky could gush all day long about the arc reactor and the sheer brilliance behind it, but so far no one has been willing to sit down and listen to that).

Steve sighs. “Why am I not surprised?”

(As he scrolls through his Twitter feed before bedtime, he’s immediately hit by the memory of him fawning over Stark’s appearance in a video uploaded by Stark Industries a week ago. Natasha was visiting, humming as she listened to his adjective-filled rant.

Natasha heard him say that her boss has killer thighs and pretty lips.

He grabs one of his pillows and slams it down over his face, hoping that if he stays in that position long enough, he’d suffocate.)

“I don’t know what to wear,” he moans, throwing an arm over his eyes.

“It’s a convention,” Sam says, throwing him a sidelong look, “not a date.”

He lifts his arm up just enough to glare at Sam. Judging by Sam’s shit-eating grin, however, it’s not very effective. “Exposition,” he corrects. Blegh, he’s starting to sound like one of those pretentious technobabble YouTubers. “It’s an exposition, and I’d rather not go there lookin’ like I was thrown into a washer with my clothes and came out wearin’ whatever stuck.” He breathes in deeply. “And did you know that Nat is Stark’s PA?”

Sam laughs. “Dude, she told me that before she even went in for the interview. She was confident and, hey—” he shrugs his shoulders— “it worked.”

Bucky grunts. “Unfortunately. Or fortunately.” Without her, he wouldn’t have that pass, even if it is proving to be more of an inducer of anxiety than excitement. “Now are you goin’ to help me pick out an outfit or what?”

“Or what,” Sam snickers.

“No, no, the grey one would be better. It brings out your eyes,” Sam comments, leaning against the doorway and watching as Bucky takes off a dusty mauve long sleeve and replaces it with a dark grey button-up.

Bucky quirks an eyebrow. “What happened to not helpin’ me pick out an outfit?”

“I thought about it, and, man… I can’t let you go out looking like a hot mess ‘cause you didn’t get my advice. I’d feel bad.” Sam crosses his arms. “Especially when you’re gonna meet your crush.” He wiggles his eyebrows and deftly dodges the discarded mauve long sleeve that Bucky launches his way.

“S’not a crush,” Bucky hisses, “and the pass isn’t a guarantee that I’ll meet him.”

Sam snorts. “It’s not a crush, you say, as if I haven’t had to listen to you go on and on about how Stark’s revolutionizing clean tech or how he’s donated, like, 3 gajillion bucks to a water charity. And c’mon, Nat’s his PA. You’d be lucky if she didn’t come up with a plan to keep him near you for every damn second you’re at that expo.”

As much as Bucky hates to admit it, Sam does have a point. Nat is notorious for meddling in their love lives for her own amusement, and she has concrete and definite proof that Bucky finds a modicum of attractiveness in Stark. He covers up a pained groan with one hand. Is it too late to send the badge back?

He is horribly, painfully aware that his expression must resemble a fish out of water as he steps into the admissions line. Double-check, triple-check. He has his ID, the badge, and his debit card just in case. Plus his phone, a portable charger, and its actual charger if he’s able to find the time to sit down. A backpack is slung over his shoulders, decorated with pins of his favorite sci-fi shows and a couple superheroes.

The smile he gives to the woman checking his items in is shaky at best, but he finds himself comforted when she picks up on his nervousness and tells him that there’s nothing to worry about, go and enjoy yourself now.

He clips the badge onto his front pocket and tries not to trip over his own feet as he enters the exhibition hall.

Pym Technologies is too busy showing off some sort of shrinking-slash-enlargening formula and he’s too busy trying to desperately not let his mind wander into the gutter to notice Natasha stepping up behind him.

“James,” she says, hand clamping down on his shoulder.

He does not yelp, thank you very much, but he does whirl around quicker than what should be humanly possible and levels her with one of his frowns.

“Grey looks nice on you,” she comments, ignoring his sour face. “It makes your eyes pop.”

“Sam helped.” His gaze flickers down to the clipboard that she’s cradling in one arm, then to the official-looking nametag that she has hanging from a lanyard around her neck. “An’… thanks for the pass.”

“It’s the least I could do for one of my best friends.”

Bucky narrows his eyes as Natasha’s sparkle. That sentence is so not Natasha that his gut is telling him that either a) Natasha has been replaced with a remarkable lookalike who is still trying to get the hang of it or b) she’s about to pull something devious and amuse herself at his expense. Going off the amount of time that he’s known her for, he’s assuming it’s option b.

She looks down at her watch that Bucky is pretty sure is non-functional and says, “I have to go, but you should come by the Stark Industries presentation area at 2. We’re not due to present until 3:30, but your pass will let you in.” She winks, and Bucky knows that should really means you better come or I will hunt you down and not even Steve could save you from my fury.

Each step he takes towards the Stark Industries presentation area feels like another step towards his demise. He can’t help the pounding in his chest or the way his arms start to turn into jelly. He can’t help the sweat threatening to fall from his brow or his knees valiantly attempting to give out. He has a sneaking suspicion in the back of his mind of what Natasha has planned, and he thinks back to what Sam said earlier about how Natasha would not let a second pass where he and Stark were not in close proximity.

He doesn’t even notice that he’s arrived until an arm clad in a black sleeve collides with his chest. He looks up, startled, at a stocky man with a severe expression. “You’re not allowed back here, buddy,” the man says, a firm crease between his brows.

“Uh.” Bucky fumbles with his badge before holding it up. “My friend said that my pass would let me in.”

“Well, your friend was wrong.” The man crosses his arms. “You should get going before—”

“Let him through, Happy.” In swoops Natasha in all her glory, looking like a fiery-haired angel sent down from the heavens. “I told him to come.”

The man—Happy, which is an unfitting nickname if Bucky’s ever heard one (and he’s heard a lot)—stares at him long enough that he contemplates leaving the exposition and quite possibly the country, before grumbling something unintelligible and stepping to the side.

He steps through, shoulders hunched. He doesn’t relax until he’s face-to-face with Natasha. “M’here. Like you told me to be.”

“Color me impressed. I thought you’d ditch.”

He snorts. “And risk havin’ you hunt me down ‘til I die? No thanks.”

“Smart.” She turns around, nearly whipping him in the face with her hair. “Now follow me. I have someone I want you to meet.”

Oh, god no, he thinks as he trails behind Natasha like a duckling. Her heels clack against the polished floor. People scramble to get out of her way, and, judging by the smirk she gives him over her shoulder, she enjoys it. “Tony!” she calls out as they approach a figure with a turned back and no, no, don’t turn around, don’t turn around, do—

and Stark turns around and he has to fight down a weird sobbing noise because Stark manages to look even better in person. Fierce intelligence glitters in his eyes and there’s an ever present curl to his lips, like he’s thought of a joke that he wouldn’t mind sharing if you asked nicely. “Romanoff!” he calls back. “My favorite PA.” Stark locks eyes with Bucky and he holds that gaze for just a moment before tearing away and focusing on Natasha.

“Please, you say that to all your PA’s.” Natasha pats Bucky’s back a bit harder than necessary. “Do you remember that friend I told you about? The one who is a fan of yours? This is him. His name is James and he is very excited to be here.” She lets her hand wander down to his side and pinches him lightly. You talk to him, he can hear her say in his head, because I do not want you to go home and mope to Steve about how you couldn’t. (Is Natasha actually telepathic or has he hanged around her enough that he has adopted a mini-Natasha in his mind? He doesn’t know and at this point he’s too afraid to ask.)

“And I’m very excited to meet him,” Stark says with a wink. Bucky wonders if he died somewhere along the way, because there is no way that Tony Stark just winked at him. Stark sticks his right hand out for a handshake.

Bucky swallows down his anxious thoughts before clasping his left hand with Stark’s right and giving it one, two, three quick shakes. They withdraw, and Bucky tries not to think about the fact that he already misses the weight of Stark’s hand in his own.

“Firm grip,” Stark whistles, and Bucky feels heat rise up on his cheeks. “Stark-made?”

Bucky rolls his left arm—his prosthetic that he’s been wearing since he’s come home from the military. “Baintronics.” Even if he wanted a Stark Industries prosthetic, Baintronics was the one with the military contract.

“Least it’s not Hammer,” Stark jokes.

Bucky chuckles, and that turns into him biting down on his lower lip when Stark smiles, pleased that he was able to draw a reaction. He really doesn’t need to be blurting out something like your smile is so pretty, please let me buy you lunch or I’ve admired you ever since you were in the newspaper for making an advanced medical drone at the age of 18, you’re so smart, please let me buy you lunch or I appreciate the fact that you donate so much to clean energy coalitions, please let me buy you lunch or anything else that would end in him extending an invitation to Stark for lunch. He might be a bit hungry.

“But you know,” Stark starts, taking Bucky out of all of his lunch-related thoughts, “we are starting a round of clinical trials for a new prosthetic designed by yours truly. It’s supposed to introduce finer motor control—sew some thread through a needle kind of fine, if my prototypes are to be believed—and the touch receptors are a thousands times more sensitive. You should be able to feel the ridges on the side of a penny!” Stark beams, the corner of his eyes crinkling. “The installation, though, would be a lengthy process—hopefully not too painful, I’m trying hard not to make it that way, and we won’t be able to get you fitted with one right away, but if it sounds like something you’re interested in, I can, uh… you can sign up. I can’t guarantee that you’ll be picked, but…” Stark looks at him with something like hope glittering in his eyes. “If you want.”  

Bucky considers Stark’s offer for all of 5 seconds before going, “Yes. Yeah. I know you’re not promisin’ it, but if I do end up gettin’ it, it’d be a hell of a lot better than this weighty thing.” He rolls his left shoulder, wincing as the anchor point tugs at his skin.

Stark hums and nods, a flicker of concern crossing his face when Bucky winces. “Much better.” He turns to look at Natasha. “Mark him down, will you, Nat?”

Natasha smiles graciously, whipping a pen out from god knows where, and scribbles something down on her clipboard. “His name is down, Tony. I took the liberty of adding his number, too. Now if you excuse me, Ms. Potts has just arrived and if I remember correctly, you asked me to escort her here.” She bows out of the conversation, subtly jabbing Bucky with her pen as she does so.

“Don’t forget to give her the slice of cake I saved!” Stark shouts as Natasha walks away.

“I never forget, Mr. Stark,” Natasha replies at a much quieter volume.

“She really doesn’t,” Stark comments to Bucky, shaking his head with a fond look on his face (and no, Bucky is not jealous that it isn’t directed towards him). “A true miracle worker. So, James—” and that bright smile is back on his face— “care to talk a bit longer?”

Bucky still isn’t entirely sure if this is a lucid fever dream that he’s having or not, because out of everyone that Tony can talk to, like Rumiko Fujikawa, the runner of one of the most popular tech-focused YouTube channels on the face of the planet, or Reed Richards, the founder of the ambitious Future Foundation, he chooses to talk to him. Plain James Barnes.

It’s mind-boggling.

And seeing this side of Tony Stark? Where he’s relaxed, his tie loosened with no qualms on questioning whether Anakin’s midi-chlorian count would’ve shrunk due to losing a good chunk of his body or whether his blood would simply make more to make up for it while they lounge on a couch that’s too comfortable for its own good? Well…

Bucky clears his throat, cutting Stark off mid-rant. “In Empire of Dreams, Lucas says that if Anakin didn’t get, uh, cut in half on Mustafar, he would’ve been as twice as powerful as Palpatine, so, yeah, I’d say that he lost some of his midi-chlorians.”

Stark stares at him. He looks down at his lap, unsure if he should’ve said that or if he should’ve just kept his mouth shut. “God,” Stark breathes out, “I could kiss you right now.”

Those words send a jolt of electricity down Bucky’s spine; he’s stunned into silence.

“Sorry. Sorry, that probably made you uncomfortable.” Stark waves a hand, a pink tinge appearing on his cheeks. “I’m just—I’m not used to anyone listening when I talk about this stuff, so having you respond… I don’t have a filter. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Bucky says quickly. “S’flatterin’. Never had anyone want to kiss me after a conversation about Star Wars.” Sam did want to do something to him after he forced him to sit through a marathon of the entire series, but he’s pretty sure that that want was the want to strangle him with a plastic bag as opposed to kissing him.

“Maybe you just hang out with the wrong people,” Stark teases.

“I should tell Natasha you said that.”

“Perish the thought.” Stark grabs a handful of pretzels from the bowl set out in front of them by an intern more than likely wanting to get on Stark’s good side. “Anything you’re particularly looking forward to this Expo?” he asks, popping a pretzel into his mouth.

“Pretty much just SI’s presentation,” Bucky admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, Pym’s formula sounds promisin’, but… god, I must sound like a kiss-ass right now.”

“Keep going,” Stark says around a mouthful of pretzel, “it’s doing wonders for my ego.”

Bucky laughs, shoulders becoming less stiff. “Yeah. SI. I’ve been keeping up with your progress on the miniature arc reactors. S’probably the one thing that I’m real into right now.”

Stark leans forward. “The arc reactors?” he asks, intrigued.

“Yeah. They’re small, but they have so much energy in them, you know? 8 gigajoules per second, man,” Bucky whistles. “That’s pretty damn amazin’. Could probably run Times Square for a couple of weeks.”

“More like a couple of hours,” Stark chuckles. “If you ever want to see them up close, I’m sure I can arrange something.”

Bucky can’t stop his jaw from dropping. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. We actually have the big one that powers Stark Tower on display for the people that take the tours, but you said you were interested in the minis…” Stark trails off, tapping his chin with his index finger. “Well, Nat… Nat trusts you, so I think it’s fine if I trust you. I wouldn’t mind bringing you down to show you the minis. ‘Course you’d have to sign some NDAs and go through some security, but, honestly? You seem way more excited and into this than the other people I’ve showed them to. Pretty sure they just want to brag about how the Tony Stark gave them the nickel tour as opposed to being genuinely curious about the science behind the reactors.” Stark leans back into the cushions. “You’re a breath of fresh air, James.”

“Bucky.”

“Hm?”

“You can call me Bucky. It’s what my friends call me.”

Stark throws him a pretzel which he thankfully catches. “And are we friends, Bucky?” he asks with that curl to his lips again.

Bucky barely represses a shudder at the way his nickname rolls off Stark’s tongue so casually, like it was meant to be there. “If—If you want to be.”

“Then we are.” Stark rolls his shoulders and allows himself to sink further into the couch. “I’d also have to insist on you calling me Tony, by the way. Stark is too formal. Because we’re friends.”

Bucky smiles. “Okay, Tony.”

“And, since we’re friends, why don’t you come out with us to dinner? Nothing too fancy, I promise, just some burgers and a milkshake. You up for it?”

Oh, god. He’s gonna have to pay Natasha back big time. Buy her some expensive knife that she’s been eyeing or something. Clean her apartment for a week. Grill her those steaks he makes that she likes so much. To have been given the chance to take Tony off of the pedestal that he built for him and be shown that he’s very much human, then to be given another chance to talk to Tony along with being offered a glimpse at the arc reactors, then to be invited out to dinner by the man himself… damn. “Burgers and a milkshake sounds good. Fries?”

“What meal would be complete without it?” Tony looks at his watch. “I’ve gotta head off to makeup now—they’re gonna make me look all pretty—but I’m gonna be looking for you when I present, okay? Ask Happy to bring you to the front row.” He takes his phone out of his pocket, unlocks it, and hands it to Bucky. “If you’re fine with it, can you give me your number? I need a way to contact you for the arc reactor thing.”

Bucky hopes his hands aren’t shaking as he adds himself into Tony Stark’s contact list under “Bucky :)”. He hands it back to Tony, careful not to drop it.

“Thank you,” Tony singsongs and stuffs his phone back into his pocket. “I’ll hopefully see you later, Bucky.” He mock salutes him and ff Tony goes, a woman with a black apron and a brush immediately magnetizing to his side the second he gets more than a few steps away from the couch.

As he watches Tony leave, Bucky suddenly remembers that Natasha had already put his number down.

[tripleaxeldiaz]

maybe one day i’ll fly next to you

chapter 3/8

read on ao3

start from the beginning

The two weeks before Skate America breeze by, every hour filled with skating or conditioning or trying not to creep on message boards to see what people are predicting for the season. Buck feels good, the best he’s ever felt this early on. He tries to reign it in, that voice in his head reminding him that he could still lose it all at any moment, but it’s muffled and quiet and easy to ignore.

He’s also been seeing more of Eddie, now that he knows he’s not the douchebag he always assumed he was. They condition together, watch each other's jumping passes and offer tips, even take their lunch break together, talking about everything skating and some non skating things too. It’s easy and nice and the best parts of Buck’s days, if he’s honest. He maybe always thinks about talking to Eddie, picking his brain for his thoughts on various skaters’ programs, watching him laugh with his whole body at some snarky comment Buck makes about someone’s horrible choice in costume. Buck likes the way he laughs, likes the way he feels a little warmer when he makes him laugh.

He should have known this brief bubble of happiness would be popped sooner rather than later.

The day before they leave, he and Maddie get an email — an email — from their mother, inviting them to dinner while they’re in town for the competition. To say Buck’s surprised would be an understatement.

“How’d they even find out it’s in Reading this year? Did you tell them?”

Maddie rolls her eyes, stabbing her salad with a little more force than necessary. “I haven’t spoken to them in longer than you have, so no. They’ve probably seen ads or something.”

“We could lie, tell them Bobby’s really strict about non-skating things during competitions?”

“Sure, but then they might just call Bobby on their own and blow our whole cover.”

“We could tell them we’re sick? Food poisoning? Then miraculously get better?”

“If that didn’t work when you tried to get out of taking your SAT, I don’t think it’ll work this time, either.”

“I wasn’t even planning on going to college, why did I—” Buck huffs as Maddie shakes her head at him sympathetically.

There’s really no way for them to get out of this.

The thing is, their parents aren’t bad people — a doctor and a PR manager who are on every non-profit board in the county, volunteer at the local animal shelter, and donate plenty of money to plenty of charities. As parents, though, they somehow manage an interesting balance of using their children’s successes for their own bragging rights and making them feel like they’re always just shy of good enough. They supported them growing up, sure, paid their way through lessons and competitions before endorsements started coming in, but it always felt like it was serving their own clout more than helping Buck and Maddie follow their dreams. When they moved out to LA, it was easy to distance themselves, rescheduling calls indefinitely until their parents eventually just stopped trying. 

The last time Buck talked to them was right after his leg surgery — they called under the guise of “checking in on him”, but spent most of the call figuring out the quickest way to get him back to practice, offering to pay for extra surgeries and PT to speed up the process. He’s sure they thought they were helping, but it felt more like they were eager for him to get back to winning medals so they could tell their friends about it. 

As much as he loves to win, it’s not the same when someone else is pushing you more than you’re pushing yourself. 

He sighs again, slumping down in his chair. He hadn’t been nervous at all about Skate America, but now the itch of self doubt has made a home right under his skin, and it wasn’t even for a skating reason. Maddie reaches across the table to grab his wrist, squeezing lightly. 

“It’ll be two hours max, then we’ll make an excuse about early practice and leave. It won’t be that bad.”

Buck nods, turning back to his lunch, suddenly not hungry as his stomach continues to churn.

~~~~~~~~~~

He didn’t expect to get this nostalgic, but the familiar drive toward Reading and the Sovereign Center (Santander Arena now, because capitalism is a prison) fills him with jittery excitement and a weird sense of calm, just like it did when he was a kid competing in the regional circuit. The arena was a palace compared to their rink in Hershey, and it always made him want to skate well enough to be worthy of the ice there. It’s where he won his first medal ever, his first gold, his first trip to Nationals, and would hopefully now serve as a stepping stone once again, this time leading him towards Beijing.

Eddie’s lounging on his bed, shirtless and flipping channels, when Buck gets to their room. It wasn’t a surprise this time — they’d requested to room together anyway — but seeing Eddie like this, soft and relaxed and somehow at home in a hotel room, makes Buck’s heart flip a little bit. 

Buck’s heart has been flipping a lot around Eddie, and making him think about stupid things like kissing him and how his abs would feel under his fingertips and how he’d prefer his eggs in the morning. It’s taking up a lot of real estate in his brain, and it’s going to get even worse now that they’re sleeping 10 feet away from each other, he’s sure.

That doesn’t stop him from sneaking glances at Eddie while he unpacks. Just to get it out of his system so he can focus. 

It’s fine.

He can totally handle this.

~~~~~~~~~~

Skata America is a much bigger deal than ACI — more cameras, more interviews, more people watching in the stands and on TV. That should mean it’s all more intimidating, too, but Buck is thriving under the lights and camera lenses. This will be the first real chance to show people — not just skating people, but everyone — what he can do, and the anticipation of how it will be received buzzes through him constantly. That buzz practically dictates his every move through practices and his short, finally ceasing as he hits his final pose. It’s quickly replaced by elation — he knows he nailed everything, he knows the resounding applause is deserved.

He knows he’s in first place before they even announce his score.

When they do, he’s right, and he’s thrilled, but there’s also a pang of disappointment, because the margin is tight — only three points between him and Eddie in second. Bobby hands him his protocols in the green room, and his stomach clenches when he sees that his step sequence and his sit spin were downgraded to level threes. His brain starts spinning, mentally combing through every revolution and edge to figure out where the hell he fucked up, when he feels a warm, solid hand on his shoulder. He looks up and sees Eddie, but instead of pity like he expected (or gloating like he feared), he just sees understanding in his eyes, maybe even a hint of the same irritation he’s feeling.

“They screwed me over too, my camel should have had a plus three GOE at least.” Eddie says, squeezing Buck’s shoulder. Somehow, he’s already feeling better.

“I bet it was the French judge, he’s always been a conniving bastard.”

“We could take him out, we have time before tomorrow.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Buck says, as Eddie offers his hand and pulls him up to stand. He tries not to miss the warmth when he lets go.

“For what it’s worth,” Eddie says quietly as they make their way around skaters and coaches in the hallway toward the press room, “I think you should be at least 10 points ahead, if not more. You were something else out there.”

Buck can’t make his brain come up with a proper response by the time they take their seats on the makeshift stage in front of the reports, so all he can do is smile and hope it comes across as totally chill and not as dopey as it feels.

Eddie smiles back, and Buck thinks he’s beautiful.

The presser goes just as expected — a few questions lobbed at the Candian skater currently in third, more for Buck since he’s in first, but the most still go to Eddie. Being the favorite for Olympic gold doesn’t go away after half a competition, and the reporters are rabid as ever. Buck’s seen Eddie’s press routine — the humble charm and gracious smiles, cracking jokes like he’s talking to friends and not a bunch of strangers with tape recorders. He’d spent years mentally rolling his eyes at what he thought was the fakeness of it all, but after getting closer to Eddie, he knows that’s just how Eddie is. Kind and patient, actively listening to what people are saying, taking his time to form thoughtful answers. 

But whatever’s happening now is not the Eddie he knows — his laughs are forced and almost too loud, his smile is tight and boarding on a grimace. He keeps fidgeting with his credentials and the sleeve of his Team USA zip-up, eyes darting around like he’s charting his path to get out of the room as fast as possible once they’re done. 

He’s nervous. Buck doesn’t think he’s ever seen him nervous, at least not like this, and it’s honestly a little unsettling. So much so that all Buck wants to do is fix it, bring the light back to Eddie’s eyes, bleed the tension out of his shoulders.

There’s probably not an easy way to do that while answering questions about his performance.

He waits until he sees the “wrap it up” signal from the event worker off to the side, the next reporter giving one last question to the Canadian skater. He doesn’t think about it too hard, just stretches his leg a little to the right, slowly, until he and Eddie are ankle to ankle. It’s not much, but Eddie still looks over at him, first confused and then grateful, a small, real smile on his face, his shoulders falling away from his ears.

Eddie’s quiet on the ride back to the hotel, but he looks calmer, listening to everyone else talk about their events and what could happen tomorrow during free skates. He’s still jittery though, leg bouncing as he sits next to Buck on the bus. Whatever was bothering him during interviews is clearly still lingering, and Buck has to fight the urge to reach out and calm his shaking with a hand on his knee. 

They make it back to their room, door barely clicking in place behind them, before Buck breaks.

“Are you okay?” he asks. Eddie freezes in front of him, half turned around like he was about to ask Buck something before he steamrolled over him. “You seemed stressed during the presser and on the ride back, and I just...wanted to make sure you’re good.”

Eddie looks stunned for a second before letting out a breath, hand rubbing over his face. “I knew this would happen, you know? The extra attention. It happened after Pyeongchang and the bronze medal, but it died down eventually. I thought I’d have more time to mentally prepare for it again, I guess.” He shakes his head, hand falling to his side as he shrugs his shoulders helplessly. “Today was just a lot.”

Buck nods, patting Eddie’s arm in understanding because he gets it. Most of the time he basks in any form of attention, but some days the lights are too hot and the voices are too loud and faking a smile through it is impossible. The one Buck sees now is real though, he knows it, and he’s happy to see Eddie relaxing now that they’re away from the vultures.

“Well, lucky for you, I’ll be out of your hair tonight, so you’ll have plenty of time to yourself,” Buck says, crossing the room to his bed, digging through his bag for his dinner clothes.

“Where are you going?” Eddie asks, and when Buck looks back at him as he heads to the bathroom to change, he swears he looks disappointed, briefly, before it shifts to confusion. “We don’t have any team stuff tonight, right?”

“Nah, Maddie and I got suckered into dinner with our parents.”

“Are Buckley family dinners always black tie affairs?” he asks when Buck comes back in slacks and a white button down, struggling to knot his tie. 

“No, but they told us to dress nicely, so we’re probably going to some fancy restaurant downtown. Knowing them, we’ll also be dragged to some party one of their friends is having that’s conveniently close by.”

He groans in frustration when his tie comes out crooked again, and Eddie laughs, taking pity on him and coming to do it himself. Buck tries to keep cool, willing his cheeks not to turn red, but it’s hard when he can feel Eddie’s breath on his chin, feel his fingers run across his collarbones, and he’s so close, if he just leaned in— 

“Sounds like it wouldn’t be the first time.”

Buck sighs through his nose. “I love my parents, they’re just...better from a distance.”

Eddie winces in what looks like sympathy, smoothing Buck’s tie and the front of his shirt as he finishes. Buck misses the motion as soon as it’s gone.

“Maybe they’ll prove you wrong this time,” Eddie says.

Buck rolls his eyes at that, but can’t help a small part of him desperately hoping that Eddie will be right.

~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie is so wrong.

Not only is there a party, it’s a party at their parent’s house, which is in full swing by the time Buck and Maddie pull up in their Lyft. Their mother opens the door, hair up, dress immaculate, lipstick-stained wine glass perched precariously in her hand.

“Evan! Maddie! Come in, so glad you could join us!” She kisses both their cheeks and hugs them quickly before taking their hands and dragging them deeper into the house. There are people everywhere, some faces Buck remembers and some new ones. There are waiters milling around too, passing bacon wrapped figs and mini bruschetta, and Buck feels his stomach rumble.

“So I guess we’re not doing dinner, huh Mom?” Buck asks, trying to keep the sarcasm to a minimum. Judging by the look Maddie gives him, he’s not doing a great job.

Their mother, of course, doesn’t bat an eye. “Sorry, sweetheart. We didn’t realize we were double booked, and we’d already moved this party once. There’s plenty of food in the kitchen though, you can eat after I’ve introduced you to some people. Everyone’s so excited to hear about how you’re doing. Philip, there you are!” Buck spots his father too, a head above the crowd, tie loose and cheeks flushed. He shakes Buck’s hand firmly, kisses Maddie on the top of her head, and is gone in an instant when someone beckons him towards the bar set up on the back wall of the living room.

“Nice to see you, too. We’re doing fine, thanks for asking!” Buck says under his breath before their mother is whisking them away again. 

They spend the next hour flitting between couples — the Whiteheads, the Culls, the Carters, and a bunch of others he can’t differentiate — getting whiplash from their mother’s flipping between actual praise and backhanded compliments.

“Evan’s one of the top skaters in the country, though not as highly ranked as he was before his accident. We’re hoping he’ll be back up there by the time the Olympics roll around so he’ll make the team.”

“Maddie’s been with her partner for about three years now, right darling? They don’t have as many golds as she had with Doug, but they do skate well together.”

“Yes, that skater from Japan is very good Rebecca, you’re right! Evan, do you know him? Maybe he can give you some pointers about your edges going into your spins? I know you struggle with those.”

On and on and on, Buck and Maddie barely able to get a word in. They see their father only a few times, and each time he’s gone as quickly as he comes, pulled away by colleagues or board members or whoever it is they’re entertaining tonight. Buck is exhausted, and not just because it’s been a long day already, but from having to keep up the good natured laughs and graciousness when he doesn’t even feel like a person. He feels more like a trophy, being shuttled from room to room to be admired for a while before being shoved into a closet where no one can see you. Because that’s exactly what’s going to happen — their parents will tout them around for the night, send them back to the hotel, and not speak to them again until they need something.

Buck really forgot just how small this big house can make him feel.

Eventually, he breaks away, making an excuse about needing the restroom before quietly sneaking up the back staircase to the second floor. Maddie finds him 15 minutes later, sliding down to sit next to him in the guest room closet.

“Old habits die hard, I guess,” she says, and Buck smiles weakly. He hid in here a lot when he was a kid, sometimes with Maddie and sometimes alone. When it was all too much — the pressure from their parents or his coach or himself — this is where he came to quiet his brain. The darkness and the smell of the cedar chest full of their mother’s old sweaters was comforting, and it wrapped around him like a blanket until he could breathe again. 

“None of their habits have died, that’s for sure,” he says. “Is it sad that I thought they would?”

“It’s not sad to hope for better. It’s just hard when all that hope is for nothing.”

Buck sighs, head thumping against the wall. Maddie threads her arm through his and rests her head on his shoulder. They sit like that for a while, quiet, both in their own heads, though he’s sure Maddie is thinking about and wishing for the same things he is. 

He shifts eventually, head resting on top of hers. “Can we go yet? We could probably sneak out the back door. If they haven’t come looking for us yet, they definitely won’t notice.”

“Should we just go back to the hotel? It’s only 8:30.”

“What else are we gonna do?”

Maddie types furiously on her phone for a minute. “Chim, Hen, and May are down to hang out. And WhirlyDome is open until midnight.”

“That place is still around?”

“Apparently, and they have half price appetizers after 9.”

The thought of mozzarella sticks and onion rings makes his stomach growl loudly again. “Alright, let’s do it. But I’m inviting Eddie too.”

Maddie just smirks at him, getting up and out of the closet before he has a chance to ask what the look was for. 

It would just be rude not to invite him.

And maybe part of Buck wishes he had stayed in with Eddie tonight from the start.

[to: Eddie] tonight sucked. we’re going to play whirlyball and eat fried food. u in?

[from: Eddie] ????? What the hell is whirlyball?

[to: Eddie] omg now u HAVE to come. meet us here in half an hour

He sends the address and does not smile like an idiot when Eddie says he’ll see him soon.

~~~~~~~~~~

“So it’s...bumper cars?”

“Bumper cars plus lacrosse plus basketball, kind of. It’s super fun and only a little dangerous.”

“Can I watch for a bit first?”

“Sorry Eds, first timers have to play. You’ll be fine, I promise.”

Eddie still looks skeptical as they get ready for the next game, carefully sitting in the car and picking up his scoop. 

A bell rings and the cars come to life, rumbling around the room as everyone starts scrambling for the ball. It takes about 30 seconds for Eddie to get the hang of steering, and by the end of the first game, no one would ever guess he’d never played before. He leads their team to three victories in a row, laughing and cheering loudly along with everyone else, like he hadn’t been overwhelmed with anxiety just a few hours earlier. Something warms in Buck at the thought that he helped with that smile, and it’s a feeling he thinks he could get used to, a job he wouldn’t mind having if it meant Eddie was this happy more often than not.

Despite it all — despite good friends and good food and the feeling of Eddie’s shoulder pressed against his, Buck still feels the tendrils of doubt and panic floating around him. They’re bad enough during competitions normally, but pair them with what happened at his parents’ house — being reminded of how he’ll never live up to their lofty image of him, even if he does make it to Beijing — and everything just feels dark and cold, and he doesn’t think his lungs are working properly. He leaves the table, says he’s going to the bathroom, but ends up outside instead. WhirlyDome is in the older half of a shopping center in downtown Hershey, and the outside has been renovated since he was last here, now featuring an elaborate fountain surrounded by benches and newly paved pathways to the other stores. He sinks down on the nearest bench, the cool October air grounding him, making it easier to think, easier to try and smash down all these swirling emotions he’s trying not to feel.

Eddie finds him there, sits down next to him on the bench without saying anything. They stay in companionable silence, watching the fountain dance and the people bustle back and forth across the plaza, getting last minute shopping in before the stores close.

“I’m sorry dinner sucked,” Eddie says eventually, quiet and sincere. 

Buck shrugs. “I knew it would. Just got my hopes up too high that things would be different.”

Eddie nods, eyes drifting back to the fountain. Now that they’re alone and the excitement from the games is gone, he can see the slightly weary lines of Eddie’s shoulders, see how he’s still curling in on himself, like he’s trying to escape into his own body.

“How are you?” Buck asks, knocking his knee against Eddie’s gently. “I know this isn’t exactly a quiet night in.”

“I’m alright. Better than I would be, thanks to you.”

“What did I do?”

Eddie’s staring at the ground, but his cheeks are flushing pink, and Buck wants to reach out and feel the heat of them under his fingertips.

“You were there,” he says. “I’m usually alone when I start feeling like that, and nothing makes it better. But I wasn’t alone this time.”

I don’t want you to be alone, Buck thinks, and these thoughts he’s been having — about Eddie, about being with Eddie — are getting louder and louder and harder to ignore. Especially now, when it’s just the two of them, and Eddie’s eyes are sparkling like gems under the street lights. 

It’s almost hilarious that barely six weeks ago, and for 10 very long years, he could hardly stand the sight of him.

Eddie finally looks up from the ground, facing Buck, and they’re so much closer than he thought they were. He can count every eyelash, smell his cologne, watch his eyes trace over Buck’s face, from his eye to his lips and back again.

Buck doesn’t even realize he’s leaning in until his vision starts to blur, and he stops short. He tries to move back slowly, casually, but then firm hands are cupping his jaw, pulling him forward until soft lips meet his own. There’s no fireworks, no angels singing, just warm molasses in his veins, spreading to every part of him until he’s so warm he’s certain he must be glowing. His hands twist into Eddie’s jacket, pulling him as close as possible until he’s practically in his lap. They move to his shirt, feeling the abs he’s been thinking about for weeks now, and he almost melts right to the ground at the sound Eddie sighs into his mouth. 

He’s not sure how long they kiss, but it doesn’t feel like long enough by the time they come up for air. He doesn’t go far, still close enough to feel Eddie’s breath fan across his lips, but he’s not sure what to do now. He wants to know what this means (if it means anything at all), he wants to know what Eddie’s thinking, he wants to memorize the way Eddie tastes and feel his abs for real.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, making them both jump. It’s a text from Maddie, telling him they’re car is here and asking where the hell they went. He looks back at Eddie, still so close, and swallows down the urge to kiss him again and tell his friends to leave them here.

“We should— we have to go,” he says, gesturing toward the parking lot. Eddie’s eyes are flitting over his face again, unreadable but still bright. He nods finally, standing up and offering his hand to Buck. He can’t fight the smile or the blush that he feels, so he doesn’t, taking Eddie’s hand to help him stand. They stay put for a minute, until Eddie squeezes his hand and drops it, smiling that soft smile again as he turns away. 

Buck smiles himself, still full of warmth and lips still tingling, before following Eddie to the car.

~~~~~~~~~~

The ride back is quiet, everyone tired and settling back into the competition mindset they were able to let go of for a few hours. Buck feels it too, already running step sequences in his head again, but he keeps getting distracted. Eddie’s sitting next to him in the back seat of the Lyft, head tipped back and eyes closed, looking at peace for the first time all day. Buck tries to stop, tries to keep his focus, but his eyes keep drifting back to Eddie’s jaw, the cut of his cheekbones, the stubble shadowing his cheeks. It’s hard to remember what edges he’s supposed to hit tomorrow when he keeps thinking about how that stubble felt under his lips.

They silently make their way back to their room, and Buck knows they need to talk. He’s trying to figure out where the hell to start as he turns on the light in the small entryway, illuminating everything in a light that feels too harsh for whatever is currently simmering between them. Eddie’s right behind him when he turns around, looking just as unsure as Buck feels. It’s comforting, them being on the same page, but Buck hates that he’s responsible for making Eddie feel like this.

He can’t figure out where to start, mouth opening and closing like a fish as he tries to figure out what to say. Eddie takes pity on him eventually, reaching for his hand again.

“Let’s talk tomorrow?” he asks. “After free skates.”

It’s an out that Buck is more than willing to take. Not that he doesn’t want to talk, he just...can’t. Not right now. So he nods, squeezing Eddie’s hand in thanks. He goes to pull away, but Eddie’s grip stays firm.

“It wasn’t nothing to me,” he says, tilting his head until Buck meets his eye. “I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing or what it meant for you, but it was something for me.”

Buck’s doesn’t know what to do with that, either. He wants to kiss Eddie again and he wants to run far away from him and he wants to skate, but he can’t until the morning. So he just nods again, and it seems to be enough. Eddie nods back, finally dropping his hand as he heads into the bathroom and shuts the door. 

Buck doesn’t bother waiting for his turn, just strips out of his dress clothes and crawls into bed. He falls asleep fast, dreams of brown eyes and triple axels — taking off, rising, and falling, falling, falling…

~~~~~~~~~~

He knows he’s falling before his ass hits the ice.

It was inevitably, really — he felt like he was fighting himself through the entire program, trying to keep it from completely unraveling. He knows that to anyone else, any casual fan and even some analysts, he looked good, strong, put together right until the end. But he knows that this isn’t his best. And this fall is definitely going to cost him.

He recovers quickly, finishing the rest of the program as close to perfectly as he can manage. He smiles and bows, waves to his friends in the stands, tries to pretend like he’s okay with knowing that he’s definitely not winning this gold. 

It’s his own fault. He’d let his parents worm their way into his brain again, amplifying the self doubt that was already lingering, making him second guess every move, even the things he knows are good. Pair that with the fact that he can’t stop thinking about Eddie — not just the kiss, but his smile as he took the ice, his effortless jumps — and it was a miracle he only fell once.

He takes silver, four points behind Eddie’s gold. The fact that it was that fall that did him in stings worse than anything.

At the medal ceremony, he catches Eddie’s eye for the first time all day on the podium, and surprises himself with the genuine smile he gives him. It’s certainly not Eddie’s fault, what happened today — he didn’t ask to take up most of Buck’s thoughts, Buck let that happen. And if he keeps letting it happen, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to skate clean again.

He knows they still need to talk, and he knows exactly what he needs to say, but he really doesn’t want to say it. 

Luckily, he doesn’t have to say anything right away. Eddie disappears after the presser and doesn’t join him and May in the stands for the free dance. Buck tries to ignore the empty seat next to him, but it’s harder than usual.

They have a late flight back to LA, and Eddie’s already packed but the time Buck makes it back to the room. They stand across from each other in the entryway, just like last night, but the tension in the air feels wary under Buck’s skin instead of hopeful.

“You were amazing today,” Buck blurts out, not at all how he wanted to start this conversation. It’s worth it, though, for the smile and blush he gets from Eddie.

“Thanks,” he says, eyes on the floor. “So were you.”

Jesus, just tell him, Buck thinks, and he squares his shoulders like he’s preparing for a fight.

“It was something for me, too,” he says softly. “Yesterday, it— it definitely wasn’t nothing.”

Eddie looks at him, waiting, and Buck hesitates.

He really, really doesn’t want to say it.

“But?” Eddie prompts, because of course he knows there’s more.

“But,” Buck sighs. “But I can’t— We should wait. Until after the Olympics. I don’t think either of us want to be too distracted before then, and I don’t know if you know this, but you are very...very distracting.” Eddie snorts and rolls his eyes, and Buck lets his gaze rake over Eddie from top to bottom, distracting himself for just a little bit longer.

“You’re right,” Eddie says quietly. “Let’s wait. And I’ll try and be less distracting, so I can keep kicking your ass fair and square.”

“Oh really?” Buck laughs, and Eddie’s laughing too, and it feels good and normal and Buck doesn’t want it to stop. But it has to. Because as much as Buck wants to dive deeper into this...whatever this is with Eddie, he wants to win more. Not much more (which is a thought he never expected to have about anyone), but definitely more. 

And if anyone in the world understands that feeling, it’s Eddie.

There’s a knock on the door, Bobby giving them a 15 minute warning before they’re supposed to head to the airport. Buck moves to head toward his things so he can pack, but Eddie grabs his arm before he can go too far. His eyes look soft and sad and hopeful and a million other things Buck is feeling too, and he just wants to drown in them, in this moment, before he has to go back out into the world, alone.

Eddie leans forward, softly kissing Buck’s cheek, lingering in his space before he heads out of the room, door quietly shutting behind him.

[adultswim2021]

Ephemera Week (2002)

It’s still ephemera week, and we’re still talking about John K. I said most of my piece on him in the last post, so don’t expect there to go full bore on this one, except I forgot to say he’s animation’s Jerry Lewis. His current stuff is basically Hardly Working. I will not elaborate, because I’m being mean to you0.

MARCH SPECIALS!

In March, Adult Swim advertised a run of one-off specials. A couple of them were already covered because they fell under the parameters of “Adult Swim original production”. They were Welcome to Eltingville (March 3rd) and Saddle Rash (March 24th).

Day in the Life of Ranger Smith | March 10th 2002 - 11:00 PM (Originally aired on Cartoon Network in 1999)

This was one of two specials commissioned by Cartoon Network re-imagining Yogi Bear. The artist what took this assignment was John K, who I REEEAALLY skewered in last night’s post, didn’t I?

This is about Ranger Smith harassing animals and writing them up for violating park rules, basically. It’s short! I remember liking it at the time! Okay, maybe I’m going crazy here, but I distinctly remembered a part at the end where Ranger Smith is in bed and he solemnly confides in the viewer that the noises of wilderness give him nightmares and then it just ends. Did I imagine this? It does end with him in bed, but this doesn’t happen in the version on YouTube (which is from the Adult Swim airing). Huh.

Boo Boo Runs Wild | March 10th 2002 - 11:15PM (Originally aired on Cartoon Network in 1999)

Boo Boo Runs Wild was another one of these stand-alone Yogi Bear John K specials. This one was 30 minutes long. The Ranger Smith short was a brief 7 minutes; I’m guessing they aired a couple Capt. Lingers or something to fill time.

This one is about Boo Boo reverting to his feral nature and causing BIIIIG problems! This special would later go on to be kind of a weird trolling thing Adult Swim would do where they aired it every Sunday for a few months, even promoting regularly. This was like 2006, I think? They’d also air it as part of April Fools. Is that Adult Swim admitting this special sorta sucks? Does it sorta suck? Again, I liked these at the time and REFUSED to actively rewatch these for this write-up. Sorry.

The Jetsons: Father and Son Day/The Best Son | March 10th, 2002 11:45PM (Originally aired on CartoonNetwork.com in 2001) Our John K rock block ends with a pair of Jetsons shorts, Father and Son Day and The Best Son respectively. This is kinda the same deal as his Yogi Bear shorts, but these were exclusive for Cartoon Network’s website. I remember watching them on there. They are as bad as you’d expect late-period John K internet shorts to be, though the second short is a superior version of Spielberg’s A.I. (in that it’s shorter).

Night of the Living Doo | March 17th, 2002 - 11:00PM (originally aired on Cartoon Network, 2001)

Night of the Living Doo originally aired as wraparound segments during a Halloween Scooby Doo marathon on Cartoon Network. It’s kinda like an episode of the Scooby Doo Movies, which shoehorned in a guest star each episode. Suddenly my man Dick Van Dyke be running a carnival and shit. That’s the Scooby Doo Movies. At the end of the night they played all the wraparound segments in one uninterrupted sitting, so the viewer could appreciate it as an actual full-on Scooby Doo episode. Night of the Living Doo functioned both as an extension of that series as well as a parody. The guests were Gary Coleman, David Cross, and the very cool band Big Bad Voodoo Daddy. It was all very self-deprecating and had jokes about the absurdity of Scooby Doo tropes. Well trod territory by this point, sure. But this is better than most irreverent Scooby Doo things. It didn’t hurt that I was a HUGE David Cross fan when this aired. Is this where I tell the stupid-ass story about getting mad at a message board guy for not liking David Cross? Sure. Okay, yeah. When this aired on Adult Swim a guy on Kon’s (hi Kon) message board posted something about not finding David Cross funny, shrugging that he didn’t get the hype. He cited this and his appearances in the Men in Black movies, and nothing else as proof for his lackluster comedy skills. It’s kinda like deeming Eddie Murphy as a bad comedian after watching Dr. Doolittle.

The point of this special is that David Cross is a little wooden and stilted, like in the old Scooby Doo Movies episodes. This poster revealed that he never heard David Cross’s stand-up or seen Mr. Show, explaining “I don’t watch puppet shows” A response that still baffles me to this day. Why Mr. Show isn’t a-- WHAT IS HE TALKING ABOUT? I’m not even sure if there was EVER a puppet on Mr. Show*. David wasn’t even a guest on Crank Yankers at this point! SO WHAT THE FUCK? To this day whenever mutual pals from that board get together and watch a movie or show and a puppet appears we make a joke about this guy. Good story? No? Fuck you.

Other stuff about this show: When it originally aired on Cartoon Network it was a little bit longer than the Adult Swim version. There’s a missing scene. I think it’s David trying to play an improv game with a mummy or something. At one point I had it on tape, but I’m not sure I kept it. Sorry.

*sorry to be coy here, but I do know of at least one puppet on Mr. Show, episode 204 there is brief footage of Grass Valley Greg putting on a puppet show for his staff. This CAN’T be the source of the confusion, can it? It’s literally like, 5 seconds.

MAIL BAG

This’ll teach me to skip a day cuz this really piled up. Thanks, guys. I love all the attention. It is my favorite thing.

I never really saw oblongs as something for the hot topic set. They had Invader Zim and Squee for that kind of shit. Oblongs feel like it was always directly targeting me: the shut-in comedy nerd who would appreciate will ferrell and the sklars being in a thing. Since they ended up doing the exact same show with Janeane Garofalo and David Cross a few years later it seems like that was the goal.

Yeah, I guess that also makes sense. There were a few elements that were kinda gothy but this show was mostly just Angus Oblong ahem, clowning around (puckering mouth to stifle laughter like Chris Elliott in Cabin Boy)

What are your thoughts on the other adult animation blocks of the past couple decades? Spike's notriously failed attempt. Animation Domination. Apparently Syfy has had their own going?

Spike was irredeemably bad. People think this shit is easy. Animation Domination is sorta legit, but it’s anchored by mostly crap. That ADHD thing was kinda good and underrated. Is that still going on? I wish I were more diligent about watching/recording that. Some of them bumpers were good. Also, we mustn’t forget MTV’s oddities. They were kinda the first cable network to court Adult Animation as their thing. They deserve some kind of credit for that. I’m sure they’re doing fine.

I'm having a nice big thing of spaghetti for dinner with some chicken parm? Jealous?

I’ve never had those are they good

What does Ephemera mean? Why is this happenening? Why aren't you talking about 10 Home Movies episodes in a row like a good boy.

In dude time, my friend. In dude time

What would be your Adult Swim dream come true?

Having a complete archive of Adult Swim blocks on a harddrive like Don Giller has with his Letterman archive. Even the commercials and shit. I know of a guy who was a regular taper of the entire block from night 1 but I’m not sure he kept up with it when they went nightly. I should ask him if he still has his tapes, huh?

That or they bring back the BUILD YOUR OWN DVD thing but with blu-rays and you can make your own bumps, which was a different thing they had. THEY SHOULD COMBINE THEM. And you can master it in SD if you wanna put 10 hours of stuff on a disk.

All this is archival bullshit dork shit. Real answer: Clay Croker comes back from the dead and every block is hosted by Space Ghost. That’d be it, right?

If anyone has genuine/better answers please write in with them I wanna keep this conversation going. ‘kay?

McDonalds reintroduces limited edition Adult Swim Toys. You can get them all (plus an extra to keep wrapped for collectors purposes) but you have to spend 20 dollars at McDonalds to grab them all. This is the last day of the promotion. You have to personally eat everything you buy but you can take it home. You can only buy one of each food item. What are you getting? I know the longer the mailbag message is the quicker you are inclined to give some glib remark but indulge this one for once.

Oh wow. I’m literally going to take this seriously. I’d roll in as breakfast was ending. Get myself a McChicken Biscuit and a Bacon Egg & Cheese McGriddle, hashbrowns and a Coffee. Gobble that knob on down. Wipe my mouth with a napkin. It’s lunchtime, bitch. Big Mac, Large Fries, BIG ass soda. You feel me, dude? Lemme tally up. Okay, probably need more. 20 piece nugget. Take that home cuz I’m probably gonna have to save some for dinner. That’s probably 20 bucks right there, especially if you go to the McDonalds on Burnside where all the menu items are more expensive because of the amount of security they have to hire (did you know that different McDonalds have different prices even in the same city? I didn’t until very recently). If this somehow doesn’t satisfy my price point I get a Vanilla shake and eat it anally DURING my BIG D squirt sesh, so it’ll spend as little time in my body as possible. Wait, do I get something for this? I might do this tomorrow just cuz. It sounds like a funky thing to do

Do you think you'll open an Adult Swim mueseum at some point? You seem to be the only steward of its history.

Unless I’m hired to by a large corporation, probably not. Also I don’t think I actually have much in the way of merch other than DVDs. I stopped being a DVD completist at some point around Freaknick The Musical. Oh, I never EVER bought a Robot Chicken DVD, EVER. I literally had a nightmare once that one appeared in my collection.

Hey! Please keep us abreast any time you put more of your garbage on eBay. Maybe you can put your wedding dress on there, you big girl.

Fucking sexist/trasphobic behavior.

Check out my eBay auctions I got season 18 of NCIS up there and some other things :)

The Ripping Friends blow chunks. I don't care if a rapist or the opposite of a rapist (a virgin who volunteers, lol) made it. It sucks a high hard one like when Ozzy banged the Cheiftan's Wife in that Black Sabbath TV Funhouse cartoon. Tell me more.

Tell you more?

Name one rap song you tolerate lol. You can't say anything by weird al or marky mark.

I guess I like the song the pest sings from the motion picture The Pest

Are there any good podcasts on adult swim?

The official one hosted by Matt Harrigan is good, but I’ve only bounced around on it. I don’t know if there’s any formal recap ones. I simply don’t know!

HE'S GIVING HIGH HARD ONE TO CHEIFTAN'S WIFE? UH OH!

Buddy, you are BANNED for LIFE from my MAIL BAG! You drive me CRAZY!

[mariahthelioness29]

Send the Addy

Pairing: SamBucky x Black! Reader 

WC: 4,279 ( I am theirs, they inspire me) 

Warning: It is absolute filth, my peeps, barely a plot, SMUT, Sugar relationship, D/s dynamics, Double Penetration ( anal & vaginal), oral ( male & female receiving), daddy and sir naming , spitting, edging, rough sex, praise and degradation, blindfold and light bondage... that’s all. 

A/N: This for @blackmissfrizzle and her Frizzle’s 2K Follower Celebration & Bad Bitch Challenge. I had the song Send the Addy by Flo Milli. 

@siancore @helahades @avintagekiss24 @rasberrylemon @saintsebastian-stan @sapphirescrolls @honeychicanawrites @marvelmaree @honestlyfrance @xbuchananbarnes @blacklavenderjade @amethyst-dreams-and-candy-canes @deansblackbeauty

After an excruciating week full of all-nighters, tidying final projects and exams. You and your girls are dancing, drinking some strong booze, forgetting the hell you all went through.

Send the addy, starting playing and you stand up from the chair and start dancing 

“Better watch where you steppin', this Gucci is pricey (Hello)

Like a snake on the loose, they gon' bite me

Put it on him, now he callin' me wifey (Ooh)

He tryna cuff but it's hard to indict me

He say he like when I call him daddy (Haha)

Tell him "Pull up" then I send the addy (Ooh)

She keep muggin' me down, she a maddy (Ew, bye)

I got three bitches wit' me, they catty (Ho)”, You sing along.

 You move your hips to the beat going down  till you're squatting near the floor and start throwing your ass back. Your ass shaking going up and down on repeat. 

“Ayeee, show’em what you got, baby”! ,your friend Bry hyping you up while recording.

You stand up running to your friend, laughing somehow feeling a little shy but still feeling yourself. 

“Damn, what’s gotten into you ?, you out here showing out, feeling yourself, but I can not complain I am enjoying it a lot”.Bry inquires, looking you up and down, smirking at you.

“Just happy that for once I was ahead of the curve, did not procrastinate and did all the work like for once I am confident, the finals will  be great”.

You smile at her, both of you sitting close to each other wrapping your arms around each other. You and Bry have been friends since freshman but sometimes you indulge in each other. When there is booze or stress involved, you seek each other's refuge.

 Some heavy twerking to 19, Birthday Cake and WAP, drinking and some heavy making out sessions with Bry and Draya recording it . You send all the videos to two particular men in your contacts. You are all snickering and smiling to your phone. You know you're in for one hell of a night with your daddies.

“y/n, when are you going to tell us the truth? ”,Draya disrupted you from your phone. 

“Tell, you what”. You feign, cocking your head to the side.

“ So you think we blind and stupid, you definitely have a sugar daddy or an Only Fans”.

“That is the same thing, I have been trying to find out”, Bry expressed with faux annoyance rolling her eyes.

“Your skin is glowing, The lace you got, Lace where?, you are not whining about your car problems, the clothes, the jewelry, the nails, like everyone can confuse you with some NBA player’s wife, if they don’t know you.” Draya continued. 

“The rent is paid and everything paid plus a new phone, new laptop. Oh, She gets some Fenty x Savage and Agent Provocateur on the side ”, Bry pipes in.

“Nosey bitch”, you shove Bry and she laughs. 

“ Is he some NBA ,NFL, Major League player, CEO, Rapper, Doctor, Real estate mogul, Politician?”, Bry asked. 

“Nope”, you said while stifling a smile and you took your shot of D’usse. 

Draya slouched more on the chair and sighs. “ Well if she won’t tell Bry, then she is taking that secret to the grave”. 

“Guys, I wish I could tell you but I can’t, I have signed an NDA, I don’t have money or lawyers to fight an NDA breaching just cause my girls want me to kiss and tell”. 

They all rolled their eyes. “Well, if he has friends that want a sugar baby tell’em to send the addy, I am here for the taking ” Bry responded while twirling around and posing. 

You all cackled. 

Little did they know that you were Captain America and the Winter Soldier’s sugar baby. You have to keep it a secret. This can mess up your future career and theirs. 

You start reminiscing, while your friends are having fun. 

You can see what they were seeing. A year and half ago, you were quiet, always tired and not as vibrant. Balancing the little you had, some internships to build your resume and classes, were taking a toll on you. You had the biggest internship. An internship at the Avengers headquarters, with no other than Dr. Bruce Banner and Dr. Helen Cho. If you aced this, you were pretty much settled. The chance of getting a nice job will be high. The internship pay was nice. It gave you some comfort but the hours were outrageous. The internship has some other perks. Seeing Sam Wilson, Captain America and Bucky Barnes, ex Winter-Soldier pass by. 

You seem them pass by hand in hand. They wave at you. You smile and wave back. You hate to see them go but love to watch them leave. They have some nice ass thighs and Sam’s ass in that Cap uniform. You are sure that if you ever had the chance to go to bed with him. You will be groping it all night. It looks so good.  You feel a sort of remorse for thinking that .You can see Sam and Bucky love each other so much and here you are being horny because of Sam’s ass in his uniform.

They were always trying to find ways to be in the lab with you, but you always denied that they were here for you. 

You  became friendly with both of them. You can see there were always lingering eyes or a hug longer than usual but you always thought it is your infatuation playing with your mind. 

That was until the Stark Benefit Gala happened. You were having fun until the party ended and your car decided to die on you. You were standing there, bummed in a beautiful dress. The dress was a courtesy of Dr. Cho. 

They saw you groaning and rolling your eyes in your car. They came to your help. Sam was drunk.  It was late, so Bucky offered you a ride to your humble abode. 

Against your better judgement you decided to ask if Bucky wants to get in your home. He went in. You were sitting drinking some water. You went to your room to get out of the dress and change to some comfortable sweatpants and a t-shirt. You were talking about T.V shows and he mentioned he was watching the Witcher but has never had time to catch up so you turned on the T.V watch the Witcher with him to explain to him what he has been missing. 

Suddenly you guys were making out. You on top of him, t-shirt disregarded. 

You stop him, “ We cannot do this to Sam”, you said, your lips ghosting over his. 

“What if I tell you, Sammy is okay, with this. He grabs your ass cheeks hard. He breathes you in and suckles the pulse point of your neck.

 You throw your head back and start grinding on him.

“What if I tell you he wants you, just as much as I do”. His voice raspy laced with desire. With that he kisses you with such a passion, all the oxygen in your lungs disappeared, he kisses your cheek in a chaste way, kisses your hand, pulls you off his lap, stands in front of you, and tells you goodnight. Leaving you hanging, confused, hot and bothered.

Your phone beeped and a message with a weird number appeared

Meet us tonight at the Cove at 21:00 sharp , The Uber is already paid and will pick you up. S&B” 

Another message in with the directions to the Cove. The Cove was a nice restaurant wine bar a little outside the city. 

At the Cove, Sam was there to confirm what Bucky told you. 

The waiter greets you and takes you orders. Chardonnay and tapas to go with it.  

“ Thank you for being here, y/n”, Sam started. “Buck told me what happened”. 

“Sam, I am so sorry, please I stay away from you. I don’t want this to cause any problems. I am so sorry”, you apologize to him.

Sam looks at you soft. “Hey, calm down, I would’ve loved to see that, you and Buck”. You are in shock. It is true what Bucky told you. “Buck told me you feel good,y/n and I want to find out:, he whispers. His eyes darkened while taking you in. It sends a shiver to your spine.

“ See, y/n, Buck and I, we love each other very much”. You see Bucky looking at Sam like he hung the moon and Sam takes Bucky's metal hand to his lips and kisses it. “But we are both missing what is like to be with a woman”. Bucky answered. “Someone we can both trust and confide in” Sam pipes in. “ We both have a kind of a dominant air and we want someone that can be ours” Bucky continues. “ I see the way you look at us, you invited me to your apartment”. "We made out"  “ You check Sam’s ass a lot, I know you can’t help it, It's so good”. You see Sam biting his lip at that. 

 You want to stay and jolt the hell out of there. You want to say something but you can't, the words won’t come out. 

Sam lift his hand 

“ Before you ask, what’s in it for you”, Let me tell you”. Sam led the conversation.

“ You are an amazing intern. Nothing but good things; cunning, smart, hard working. Banner and Helen have seen how hard you work. School and bills take a toll on you. “We see your car, that poor thing. “ You are quiet , you sigh a lot”. “We want to relieve that burden for you”.

You take a good gulp of the wine so that it can give you courage. “ This is not some cruel prank, right?, You ask with doubt. Taking a strand of hair behind your ears. You are shaking like a leaf. 

Sam and Bucky smile at you. They’re smiles are comforting. 

“ It is not. In fact, I have something for you”. Sam takes a stack of papers from his suitcase and puts it on the table. 

“ It is a Non Disclosure Agreement and some ground rules, This could be scandalous, we are aware of that so we have to keep this a secret much to my disdain.” Sam huffs. 

 Bucky takes your hand in his. “ Just give it a thought and think how good this can be for you”. “If you are not on board with this. It’s okay, we understand. Burn those papers and we  continue like nothing happened, please just think about it and let us know what you want”. Bucky looks at you with his ocean eyes pleading. 

The days followed. NDA signing. Medical exams all of you did. After that you had the most amazing experience you ever had in your life. It was everything. So erotic, you on your back Sam driving into you with madness. Bucky beside you alternating between kissing Sam and playing with your clit. Bucky spitting in your mouth, saying you are theirs and no one else's. So filthy, your back against Bucky’s chest he was in your ass while Sam was in front of you balls deep in you and they were both fucking you like there was no tomorrow. 

“Fuckkk, they groaned in unison”

Bucky was kissing the back of your neck giving you long but hard strokes. “Babyy, so tiight, so goood”, he said in between strangled moans. 

You could barely breathe. They are pushing buttons, you did not know they existed.

Sam was rough, giving you fast strong strokes, hitting that spot repeatedly. “He was moaning, grunting, breathing heavy too. Eyes closed head back. “Fuck baby, you’re gripping me hard, I’m not going to last long, if you keep doing that. Naughty girl you like that, huh?, “having two men at the same time”. Sam said with his breath short, driving his dick deeper in you. 

You nod. You cannot form a coherent sentence 

Bucky wrapped his vibranium fingers tight around your throat, making you face Sam. “Answer him”, he orders you, whispering in your ear.   

“Yes, sir, I love being stuffed by you both.” You answered him with a strangled whisper while your eyes were fluttering. It was too much but it was what your body was craving ever since Dr.Banner introduced you to them.

After a few more strokes you came with a shout and your legs shaking . Sam came hard , then Bucky after fucking your ass with no abandon. The night went on like that, Sam and Bucky using you the way they saw fit. 

You were stuffed with their cum and seeing galaxies at the end of the night. 

They took care of you after that. Bathing you, cleaning you up, giving you snacks, even brushing your teeth, and putting you to sleep. 

 You were biting your lip, pressing your thighs together. You were hoping you could get some of that tonight.

Seems like your wish is granted  because your cell phone vibrates. Two messages in 

Bad girl, making out with your friend, that mouth, that pussy  belongs to us. Only us. 

I see you’re having fun, but you can have more fun with us, baby girl. Say goodbye to your friends and you come to this hotel this instant. 

They sent you the address to the hotel . You see the address is not that far. Your pussy throbs in anticipation. 

“ Well, bitches, I got to go”, you say picking your Birkin bag and taking one last shot. 

“ Daddy Anonymous called you, huh”, Bry said looking you up and down. 

“ Yes he did and I am going to get some dick tonight”. You all laughed. 

Kissing and hugging your girls goodbye. You get in the car and connect the phone to the speakers and play send the addy again. 

Reaching to the hotel. You text the numbers back with: 

I am here, sir. 

I am here, daddy. 

They reply back with the room number. 

You arrived at the room you knocked on the door , just how they thought you. 

It was them. Bucky was dressed in a black shirt and the sleeves rolled up. Sam was wearing a burgundy shirt also with the sleeves rolled up. Tight jeans and two very noticeable hard ons. Your mouth waters at the sight. 

Bucky grabs you close to him and slaps your face. You gasped. The slap is not  hard enough to leave a mark but to tingle. Sam watches amused rubbing his erection through his pants. 

“Bad, girl, behaving like a slut, making out with Bry, letting her touch you like that”, he said, wrapping his vibranium fingers around your neck with force. “You just can’t get enough, do you baby ?”

“Daddy Buck, may not like it but I love it baby. You are so fucking sexy, especially when you make out with Bry”. Sam replied. 

Why did you do it, baby girl ?, Sam asked while unbuckling his belt and sitting on a chair in the corner. 

Bucky makes you face Sam. 

“ I like pussy too, sir and her lips are nice, both sets of lips,sir”. You whisper with Bucky’s hand tight around your throat. 

Bucky grabs you by the forearm, makes you walk to the bed with him. He sits at the edge of the bed. 

“ Lay across my lap”, he demanded. 

You do as you're told and lay across his lap. 

“Daddy is very disappointed, and you know what happens when daddy is disappointed”. You brace yourself for what is about to come. Spanking with the vibranium hand. 

“ You are going to count, Ok”. 

A slap to your ass and it is heard. “One”. You exhale the breath you were holding in. Two slaps quickly after another. “Two, three”, you whisper and then hiss. He massages your ass cheek. And slaps it again “Four”, you scream. “Such a good girl, taking your spanking so well”, Sam encourages you while stroking his dick slowly. 

“Don’t get any ideas, he might like what you do but you are still a dirty slut”. With that he spanks you three times quick after another. “Five, six, seven”, you scream and a tear is rolling down your face. 

“Aw, baby you look so cute when you cry, don’t worry, honey, it is going to end soon, Sam walks to you and wipes the tear away from your face. He cups your face in his hand. 

Bucky laughs. “Whores pulling stunts and can’t handle the consequences”. “Should've known better” He spanks your ass three times one after the other. “Eight, nine, ten” you sob. 

You stand up from Bucky’s lap. Your ass stinging. You know that you will not sit comfortably for a week. You hiccup a sob.

“Sh, sh,sh, that's my girl, taking what we give so well”. Sam console you. He cups our face and then hugs you tight. He smells so good. Sandalwood and cocoa butter. His skin is smooth

“ Lay on the bed, baby girl, I'm going to give you a treat”. You lay at the edge of the bed, with your legs open.

Sam lick his lips, you are dripping wet.

"So wet, so pretty" Sam whispers, touching your pussy. You moaned at that,moving  your hips looking for more sensation but he stops touching you.

"Tell us, are you wet for Bry or for us?",Bucky questioned

"You only you"

"Good answer, pretty baby".Sam says breathing you in.

“ What do good girls say to that, y/n?”, Sam asked

“ Thank you, sir”, you answer him, all breathy

With that he licks along your slit and then starts devouring your lips. Sucking on your clit and then shoving his tongue in you. He keeps that pattern until you are squirming and moaning loud  but Bucky puts his arm around your middle, keeping you down. Sam keeps eating you out like you are his last meal.

“You are such a dumb baby, you cannot take my spanking or his tongue, don’t worry baby. "Bucky whispers to your ear.

 “He spoils you but I will set you straight.” He bites your nipple to the point it is painful. You moaned loudly the pain and the pleasure mixing in.  You grab his hair hard and he grunts. He soothes the bite, licking and flicking his tongue on your nipple. 

Bucky grips Sam’s head and brings Sam to him and they kiss slowly all tongue. Both of them sharing your juices. It is such a sight. 

“Do you trust us, baby?”, Sam ask with his lips shining of your essence and Bucky’s spit. 

“Yes, sir, My safe word is fly”.

“ Good girl”, Sam responds and then hovers over you to peck your lips.

He goes to the night table and takes a pink silk scarf and pink rope out of the drawer. 

He makes you sit on the bed and ties the silk scarf around your eyes and he kisses your cheek. 

“My pretty baby”

“ I don’t know why you keep putting her on a pedestal, she is a whore”, Bucky tells Sam. 

“ A whore that needs to be put in her place”. Bucky continues

“ C’mon, ass up ,face down”. Bucky orders and there is no room for ifs. 

You assume the position. “Hands behind your back”, Bucky demands.  

You put your hands behind your back and you feel the rope tightening on your wrists.  

You gasp when you feel a dick inside you in one thrust and you know is Bucky. He is like that though, demanding. He starts ramming into you. The shaking of your ass against his hips, your pussy creaming on his shaft . That spurs him on. 

“ He might say nice things to you, but we both know what you like, getting fucked without mercy”, He groans at the feeling of you spasming around him. “That is what you like”.

He pulls on your hair. “Say it”, he growled. 

“He might say nice things but I like getting fucked without mercy”. You answer him  breathless.

You are moaning non-stop, your breathing ragged. His dick drives in and out at a fast pace. You feel yourself tightening around his cock. 

He stops and pulls out of you. You whine

“Stop whining”, Bucky reprimands you, spanking your ass a little. A warning.

You cry out when you feel another dick inside you, a different kind of stretch. Inch by inch he enters you, he is hissing. “Aaahh fuuuck”.

 You know it is Sam. He takes his sweet time entering you most of the time. 

He starts going at a slow pace, pulling out almost and slams back in. Then he pulls almost out, he grips your hips and drives your ass against his hips unhurried. Every time he does that, you feel the air leave the room. 

He keeps doing that until you are almost there, you can feel it then he stops and pulls out of you.

You are left there clenching around nothing.

You hear them kissing. Humming and moaning into the kiss. You start hearing Sam moaning and slurping and gagging sounds, moans from Bucky too. 

You hear whispering but you cannot understand what is said.

Bucky was on his knees sucking Sam off, taking Sam's shaft to the back of his throat, savoring all of you from Sam's dick. He pulls Sam out his mouth with a pop. 

He stands up and whispers to Sam's ear: "She tastes so good on your dick, sweetheart, mmhmm so good." 

You whine:" pleeeaseee"

Sam returns to you, entering you at a snail's pace till he is full inside. His moans, hisses mixing with your moans and cries.

"Can't stay without dick for long, Can you baby ?". Bucky asks you. He chuckles. "Such a needy slut". 

You nod. You mewl: "Yes, daddy".

Sam kisses your shoulders. “ You are such a sight, baby girl, you are my good girl, I love you so much”, He says with his deep and raspy voice.

“ I love you so much, sir”. You reply with tears in your eyes. You don't know, who is worse, Bucky with his unforgiving pace or Sam's slow pace. They are doing this for what seems an eternity. When they feel you are about to cum, they switch places or leave you hanging. 

 Sam praised you and Bucky degraded you. 

You can’t take it anymore. You are so pent up. Release is the only thing in your mind. 

You were now on your back still blindfolded and your wrist tied on top of your head.

“Please, daddy, please, sir, please can I cum ?”. You sob 

Bucky was slamming into you. Faster than ever, groaning and moaning

“ Cum, let go”, he moans. He was so close too.

You came with your legs shaking and a silent scream.

More thrusts and Bucky was coming 

“Shiiiitttt”,fuck, fuck”, Bucky cried out on repeat. With a long moan, he emptied inside you. He dropped next to you on the bed, spent and satisfied. 

Right after, Sam entered you in one thrust and started pumping you fast. Your eyes were rolled to the back of your head. You feel your whole nerves convulse. It was so much but your body needed his release. 

“Sir, please, give me your cum”, you babble

“ Don’t have to ask me twice, baby girl, He grunted. 

Thrusting into you with his eyes closed, head back and his lips parted.

"Fuuuckkk, you got some good pussy on you, babyyy, y/n. He sped up, chanting your name. 

He came within you, with a loud groan. He dropped on top of you 

You love his weight on you. When he catches his breaths. He stands up and takes your blindfold off. Bucky tuned in the light so that your eyes don’t hurt, when Sam takes the blindfold. Sam takes the rope off your wrists and kisses your wrists. 

Bucky appears with glasses of water for the both of you. He gives Sam the glass and they kiss. 

You cannot believe your luck. Both of your men, naked. Sam thick arms and thighs and that ass. Bucky with those thighs, those abs carved like some Greek god and the contrast of his arm, flesh and metal, hair all disheveled.

Bucky kneels in front of you and gives you a glass of water.

Bucky kisses you. “You know that it is all role play, baby. I love you and I appreciate you so much”. You nod. You drink the water and put the glass on the nightstand. You grab his face. 

“ I know, daddy” and you place a kiss on his forehead.

He looks at you, like you are everything in his world.

He stands up. He kisses Sam again then Sam bents and kisses you.

“ You are so beautiful, you know that”, Sam expresses taking your features in. 

“ Thank you, sir. You are so pretty too”.  He laughs at that. 

Bucky finds some sweatpants and puts them on. 

“I am going to order something to eat”. Bucky picks the phone to call room service. 

"Blueberry waffles,pleaseee".You look at him with puppy eyes. Sam sits next to you. "I want some blueberry waffles too, baby boy". Sam asks with that smile that makes Bucky melt.

He chuckles shaking his head.

You, two are too much for his heart to handle.

"Well, when you both ask like that, how can I say no"

He calls room service.

You are there, feeling light and satisfied with two men that care so much. Every day you are falling a little bit more in love with them. 

You don’t know what the future holds for all of you but for now you will always go to them when they send the addy. 

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, nephilimeq!

For @nephilimeq :)

When Stiles can’t decide what to get for Derek’s Secret Santa present, he decides to give Derek himself. It doesn’t go quite like he thought it would.

Or, the one where Stiles expected sex, but got to help Derek with his computer virus instead (but still somehow ended up with a boyfriend for Christmas).

*****

A Gift to Unwrap

“I’m so glad we’re doing Secret Santa this year, I can’t afford to buy you all shit again,” Stiles said, lounging on Derek’s couch with his head off the side and his feet in the hair.

Lydia smacked his ankle when it got too close to her. “It’s not like you gave us all great gifts last year. You gave me pens.”

“What was wrong with pens? You like pens.”

“They were from the dollar store, Stiles.”

“Whatever,” Stiles flipped over, sitting properly. “I hope I get Derek, he appreciates my gifts.”

“Derek?” Allison looked over at him from her armchair, “he’s the worst to buy for, he isn’t happy with anything.”

“Hey, Derek loved the birthday present I got him!”

Allison and Lydia shared a confused look. It was just the three of them here, planning out secret santa as everyone else on the pack went for midnight wolf patrol. Stiles didn’t mind, he liked when team humans got to hang.

“Derek doesn’t celebrate his birthday…” Lydia finally said, turning back to him.

“Yeah, I know,” Stiles shrugged, “I just got him a photo album and filled it with all the family pictures of the Hales I could find. I dropped it off in the morning, we had some coffee, and I left. Derek didn’t have to celebrate, and I only had to spend like 5 bucks.”

They were both frowning now though. “How long did that take you?” Allison asked.

“Uh…” Stiles scratched his head, “a month or so?”

“A month or so?” Allison shook her head. “This year you gave me gum for my birthday!”

“Hey, you like gum!’

Lydia smirked, “don’t take it personally, Ally, Stiles only buys good presents for people he loves.”

“Woah- what? Who said - I don’t love anyone!”

Lydia laughed, “Stiles, you once bought me a TV! This year I got more dollar store pens. But Derek gets a whole photo album that you spent a month on? You’ve moved on from me and right on to him,” she grinned, “did you add little notes in it too?”

Stiles blushed, “no!… not that many! Shut up!”

“Relax, Derek likes you too,” she said. All nonchalant, like this wasn’t brand new information.

“What- what do you mean? Not that it - I don’t love him, or anything, but like what do you mean by that.”

“Okay,” Allison said, leaning back, “I can see it now.”

“Um, no? There’s nothing to see?”

“I guess we’ll find out next week,” Lydia said with a wink, “when you both get each other for Secret Santa.”

“You can’t just… cheat like that. Can you? Oh my God, what do you think he’ll get me?” They both laughed. Stiles was starting to see their point. “… not that it matters, what he gets me.”

“He’ll get you something sweet, I’m sure,” Lydia said. “You’ve kind of already outdone yourself with the photo album, but I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

“Aw, this is so sweet!” Allison said, smiling at Stiles blush. “Aw at New Years you two can kiss!”

Stiles didn’t even try to deny he liked that idea. And now that he was thinking about it, it was definitely not the first time he liked the idea of Derek kissing him.

Shit.

“Guys, I might like Derek…”

They looked at each other and laughed.

–

That weekend, when they pulled their Secret Santa names out of the hat, Stiles wasn’t surprised he pulled Derek’s name out. Lydia was a witch, she could do anything.

He watched carefully as Derek read his. He made no reaction, but Stiles noticed him glance towards him a minute later. Did you get Stiles’ name too? Was Lydia really doing this?

Was it normal to be this excited for Secret Santa?

Stiles wasn’t sure - but he didn’t care. He couldn’t wait for Christmas.

–

He realized as soon as he stepped into the mall, Lydia was right. He should have fucking waited to do the photo album for Christmas.

No one cared about their 26th birthday. It was a stupid age. Why did he go so big? Stiles had turned 22 this year, and Derek had just taken him out for dinner. He should have done that.

What the hell was he going to do now?

He had $20 he could spend and that was it. He walked past the dollar store but shook his head. Looked into H&M and scoffed. Derek would hate everything in this mall. Stiles wasn’t sure where he bought his ridiculously soft shirts, but it wasn’t here.

And they were probably more than $20s.

Cursing, Stiles back tracked. What could he do? He did the sentimental thing already, but maybe he could.. Add to that? Get… What, video recordings of his family?

No, that would just be creepy. He wasn’t fucking stalking the dead.

He could… draw him a picture? He was shit at art. He could… take him on a trip? At some point.. When neither of them were working.. And it was super cheap?

God he was doomed.

Stiles walked past La Senza and paused. The mannequin was dressed in a skimpy bra, but that wasn’t what he was looking at. It was also covered in bows, like the mannequin itself was the present.

Could… Stiles… be the present?

No, that was ridiculous.

Unless…?

No. Derek deserved a real present.

But maybe..?

Stiles bit his lip in thought. It would be better than dollar store pens at least.

He turned and made his way to the craft store. Time to spend his $20 on high end ribbon.

–

Stiles had on his tightest skinny jeans, the ones that Jackson said made his ass pop. He wore the shirt Lydia had given him, the one he thought had been a size too small but she insisted fit him better than anything else he owned.

Now, for the important layer. He pulled out the red ribbon.

He tied a loop around his chest, making a bow on his front. He tied another around his leg and made a bow on his thigh. He looped a ribbon down his left arm, starting from his shoulder and ending with a bow on his wrist.

He looked at himself in the mirror, a bit worried he had over done it.

“Well, my dad didn’t believe I was gay before, he should see me now.”

Although he and his dad had already had that talk. More than once, actually, after he caught Danny in his room in senior year. That had been awkward.

But they were good now. And Derek wouldn’t be such a surprise to him, he didn’t think…

You know, if Derek… actually liked him back. And wanted to date him. And be introduced to Stiles father as his boyfriend-

He was getting ahead of himself.

He took a deep breath. “Even if he doesn’t like me, the present is he has me for a full day. He can make me clean his windows if he wants.”

WIth that, Stiles pulled on his dad’s trench coat.

It was show time.

–

Stiles usually barged into Derek’s loft like he owned the place, but it felt weird to do that now, so he knocked.

It took a minute before Derek opened the door. He already looked confused, and his eyebrow rose up at the sight of him.

“Stiles.”

“Evening, Derek.”

“Why did you knock…. Why are you dressed like you’re going to flash me?”

Stiles felt his cheeks warm, “it’s, uh, for Secret Santa!”

“You’re going to flash me for Secret Santa?”

“No! I am,” he gestured at himself, “fully clothed underhere, I will have you know. But it is part of the present.”

Derek raised a brow, “the gift exchange is tomorrow.”

“Yeah, but… mine starts today.”

Derek shrugged, then stepped back to wave Stiles inside.

Palms sweating, Stiles stepped in and only hesitated a moment before he opened his coat. “Ta da!” He said, dropping the coat dramatically to the floor, “I am your present!”

Derek looked him up and down, eyes lingering on the bows, “okay.”

Stiles swallowed. He shouldn’t have worn his tightest clothes, could Derek see his sweat through his shirt already?

Fuck, could he smell it?

“And, uh, you can do whatever you want with me. For the next 24 hours.” Derek nodded, his eyes still on the bow on Stiles chest. Shit, maybe this was stupid. “Sorry, I thought… I’m kind of broke, and I - this was dumb-”

“No, it’s good,” Derek stepped toward him. Stiles’ heart started to race, he clenched his fists so they wouldn’t shake. This was the plan, right? This was the fucking point of the gift - make a big decleration and give himself to Derek, for a whole day, to do whatever.

But fuck, what if Derek was into weird shit? Stiles wasn’t a virgin, but he’d only been with two people before, and did that guy from college really count if all they did was handjobs? Stiles didn’t even remember his name. And fuck, what if this made Derek think all he wanted was sex? What if he was ruining a potentially amazing relationship because of one stupid -

All Derek did was reach behind him and close the door.

Of course.

Stiles cleared his throat.

“So, uh…”

“Come with me.”

Stiles obeyed, following Derek to the couch. Was Derek going to throw him on it? Ravish him?

He passed Stiles a laptop.

“You’re good at this stuff, right? I think I have a virus or something.”

“… what?”

“I have you for 24 hours, tonight you can help me with my laptop.”

“Oh, oh, okay, sure.” Stiles sat down, glancing down at the screen. He felt stupid for being relieved.

“After you figure out the virus thing, you can also help me get a netflix. And figure out how to get it on the TV? Lydia is refusing to set up pack movie nights anymore if we’re all going to complain about watching The Notebook everytime.”

“Alright,” Stiles leaned back on the couch, diving right in. By the state of Derek’s desktop, he had a feeling this might actually take him 24 hours.

–

Stiles slept over at Derek’s house that night, though it went very differently than he had imagined. He borrowed Derek’s sweats and a baggy T. He slept on the couch. He worked on his laptop until 2 am, and woke up to Derek making breakfast. Stiles joined him in the kitchen, making coffee beside him as he cracked eggs into a pan.

It was nice. Domestic.

Derek smiled at him as he passed over a mug of coffee, and Stiles smiled back.

This was way better than his original plan.

“So, your computer’s up and running, and can connect to the TV. What else do you need help with?”

“Cleaning.”

“… cleaning what?”

“The loft. The pack is coming over tonight for the Secret Santa exchange. Clean up, and when you’re done, help me make the Christmas cookies.”

Stiles shrugged, “okay.”

–

Cleaning wasn’t hard. Derek kept his place pretty impeccable anyway, so all Stiles had to do was some dusting and sweeping. Then he joined Derek in the kitchen, where he had already started baking.

The rest of the day went by so fast, Stiles ran out of time to go home. He changed back into the clothes he was wearing last night, minus the bows, and came back to find the pack already arriving.

He smiled at Derek as they passed out the food together. He imagined what it would be like if he really did live here, really did help Derek with every pack night. He thought they would make a good pair.

And when their shoulders brushed when they sat down together, Stiles didn’t feel nervous. In fact, he leaned into the touch a bit. And he didn’t miss the soft smile Derek sent his way when he did.

Yeah… he thought they would be great together.

The night went by in a blur, Stiles too focused on Derek’s warmth beside him to really pay attention to any of the presents everyone was opening.

He didn’t even notice people had started leaving until it was only him, Lydia and Allison left.

And Lydia and Allison were getting ready to go.

“Oh. I guess I should get ready to go too.”

“Aw, but you two look so cozy,” Allison said with a smirk.

Stiles flushed. Derek, thankfully, either didn’t notice her comment or ignored it. “I haven’t given you your gift yet,” he said. “You can’t leave.”

“Have fun getting your gift, Stiles,” Lydia said, winking, before she shut the door.

Stiles felt his face grow even hotter, but Derek still didn’t comment on it as he got up to get his present. Bless this man. Bless him and his new social tact.

Derek came back out with a present so big, Stiles felt a pang of regret for going with his stupid idea. He could have at least given him… socks, or something.

“Derek, you didn’t have to-”

“I did. After the photo album, I did.” He cleared his throat, “it’s not that big of a deal, I just didn’t know how to wrap it.”

Stiles didn’t believe him. The way Derek was carefully holding it, he didn’t think Derek fully believed it either.

When he ripped open the wrapping paper, he gasped, “Derek…”

It was a painting. A painting of him in his grad cap and gown, from his university graduation last summer. Beside him was his dad, in his suit, just like in their pictures, and on the other side…

“I tried to make her look a bit older, without changing her too much… your dad gave me a picture.”

“She’s beautiful,” Stiles whispered. His mother looked just like he remembered, he even knew the dress, but… there were wrinkles that he never got to see her have. A few gray hairs she never got to grow. His eyes started to burn, so he put the picture down on the table, taking a deep breath. “Derek, you really didn’t have to…”

“You didn’t have to give me the photo album.”

Stiles licked his lips. Derek leaned forward.

“I knew what you were doing. With your gift, I mean, I knew what you were trying to do.”

“You don’t - I shouldn’t have, I don’t want to force anything. It was stupid.”

“It wasn’t stupid, it was cute. I was just surprised. And you smelled really nervous, sweaty,” Stiles cursed himself, he knew Derek had smelled the sweat. “I didn’t want our first anything together to be with you under pressure. I want us to both want it.”

Stiles looked at Derek, how beautiful and sincere he was. He thought maybe he was already in love with this man.

“Do I smell nervous now?”

“No.”

They leaned forward at the same time, the kiss was soft. Perfect. Derek’s beard was smooth under his fingers.

When they pulled back, Derek grinned. “Can I unwrap my present now?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

The End <3  

[caught-in-a-seesaw-stigma]

Peripheral 7.5

Pairings: OT7 x reader; Taehyung x reader; Taehyung x Jimin

Series Summary:  An unfortunate accident leaves Kim Namjoon with amnesia, and Big Hit, BTS, ARMY, and the entire world is desperate to help him regain his memories and knowledge. Fortunately, a new genetics company has successfully created a system to alter our brains into human databases which can help someone regain knowledge and memories through a simple input/output exchange. Can this new invention give us back our beloved leader?

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Idol AU

Word Count: 2K+

Warnings: NSFW 18+ Cursing, oral (female receiving), teasing, groping, bisexual overtones

Word Count: 2K+

Taehyung POV

All that skin...so soft, so smooth, so pretty…

Y/N’s thighs were rubbing together slightly and her hips lifted off the mattress as she released a barely audible moan. The oversized RJ shirt covering her body shifted further and further up her thighs and Taehyung licked his lips at every inch that was revealed before him.

“Tae,” she breathed out. “Please, touch me.”

Taehyung groaned at the needy tone in her voice and palmed himself over his pajama pants. The impressive tent he was rocking was barely contained behind the thin fabric. Y/N’s seductive movements caused his dick to twitch to life with a copious amount of precum pooling on his pajama pants,

Probably should’ve worn underwear.

Y/N reached out and pulled on Taehyung’s forearm, encouraging him to get closer to the bed. As soon as his thighs made contact with the edge of the mattress, Y/N was already trying to pull him onto the bed.

“Y/N-noona,” Taehyung chastised playfully. “You should be resting.”

“Rest with me, Tae-Tae,” she pleaded sweetly. “Come on, I’ll let you be the big spoon.”

Taehyung looked around the room in search of another person, but alas, Yoongi was nowhere to be seen, even though Taehyung could swear his hyung was just in the room a moment ago. Now, it was just him and Y/N.

Big spoon, little spoon.

There was a seven second pause before Taehyung released an exhale full of excitement and climbed onto the bed, hovering over Y/N’s barely clad body. The RJ on the shirt slowly morphed into a Tata graphic, and Taehyung was incredibly pleased.

It’s not just about being cute, it’s about being unique.

“Tae,” Y/N sighed. “I need you.”

“Do you now?” Taehyung grinned. “Where do you need me, beautiful?”

Y/N’s smile increased in brightness as she reached down to remove the oversized T-shirt from her body. The golden skin that was revealed nearly blinded Taehyung as he drank in every centimeter of her glorious body. His breath caught as she lowered one hand down her stomach and straight into her dripping folds. Taehyung gulped as her fingers split into a V shape to reveal her swollen jewel hidden in the folds. It glistened enticingly in the dim lamplight of the room, and Taehyung felt his throat dry up in response.

“I need you right here, Tae-Tae,” Y/N purred. “Be a good boy and help me out, yeah? Are you my good boy?"

"Fuck yeah, you know I am," Taehyung responded gruffly. "I'm a good boy, I swear."

“Show me how good you are, Tae,” Y/N pleaded. “Show me what that silver tongue can do.”

Taehyung happily situated himself between Y/N’s legs and started licking, kissing, and nibbling his way to her flushed core. The trails of arousal he swiped away with his tongue just made his dick ache even more.

She’s fucking delicious.

Once Taehyung’s lips made contact with Y/N’s hidden jewel, she released the most incredible sound from her throat. It was airy and light and full of passion and sweetness. Taehyung wanted to record it and play it on repeat so he could always have it bouncing around his ear drums. Every erotic moan she released just increased his desire to have more of her in his mouth, in his ears, in his world.

He dragged his tongue across every millimeter of her sex, not allowing a single drop to go to waste. The more he licked and slurped, the wetter she became, and the flavor of musky fruit pirouetted along his taste buds delightfully. Y/N’s essence rivaled the most exotic fruits and Taehyung was lost in the extravagant taste on his palate.

How can one person be this unbelievably sweet?

“Tae,” Y/N groaned. “Kiss me.”

Taehyung placed one last lingering kiss on her glistening lips before traveling to the ones above. He slotted himself between her legs and allowed his girthy erection to nestle on top of her throbbing sex. She hissed out of sensitivity, but the fabric was so soft that it wasn’t causing any discomfort. With measured precision, Taehyung dipped his lips to capture Y/N’s and he began languidly teasing her with small kisses and playful tongue flicks.

Y/N’s hand slid between their bodies to grasp Taehyung’s warm length over his pajama pants and he groaned as soon as she applied any pressure to his turgid length. Her delicate hands stroked him up and down while he continued drawing small whines and moans from Y/N’s mouth. The numerous rings on her hand confused him at first because he didn’t remember her wearing much jewelry, but he quickly dismissed the thought when Y/N sucked especially hard on his bottom lip. He moaned out in response and pushed his cock harder into her ring clad grip.

“Tae,” Y/N gasped as his lips traveled across her jaw and to her neck. “Ah, Tae.”

“That’s right, beautiful,” Taehyung whispered. “Say my name.”

She continued to chant his name in a hushed, breathy voice and her hand tightened around his shaft, causing him to groan and buck forward against her upper thigh. Taehyung nipped at her earlobe and made his way back to her lips, which were fuller than he remembered. In fact, they seemed to have doubled in size in the last few minutes. He sucked on the bottom one, puzzled by its plush texture.

What’s going on? Am I imagining things?

Y/N’s other hand traveled into his hair and pulled gently on the golden locks, desperate to recapture his attention.

“Tae,” Y/N whined cutely. “Why aren’t you touching me?”

Taehyung chuckled at the pout evident in her tone and he lowered one of his hands to palm her plump ass. It was unbelievably firm and warm in his palm and he used his leverage to rut against her even more, drawing more breathy moans out of her with every shallow thrust. As a matter of fact, her ass felt firmer than he thought it would.

Weird, but nice. She’s got a dancer’s ass.

“Tae,” Y/N squeaked out. “Tae, Tae,”

“What is it, beautiful?” Taehyung grunted as his pushed himself against her bare sex. “Do you want me to put it in? Tell me you want my thick cock inside of you. Say the word and it’s all yours.”

“No, Tae,” Y/N’s voice deepened slightly. “I want you to wake up.”

Did she just say she wanted me to wake up?

“Wake up, Tae,” Y/N persisted while stroking him. “Wake up.”

Taehyung wrinkled his forehead in confusion and took a moment to clear his lust-crazed mind. Her voice didn’t sound the same. It was almost like she sounded like someone else, someone he knew very well.

It couldn’t be his voice. That’s impossible.

As he pulled his face up from Y/N’s neck, he was pleased at the bright pink blossom he’d left behind, but that elation was short lived as he looked down and realized Y/N was no longer beneath him.

“Taehyungie,” Jimin smirked up at him. “Wake up.”

-----------------

Abruptly, Taehyung lifted his head and realized that he was still on the couch in the living room. He glanced at the lap he was in and repressed the urge to yelp. He looked up and realized that Jimin was giving him the strangest look and he gulped nervously before pulling himself into a sitting position, grabbing a pillow to cover the erection begging to be released from the confines of his pajama pants. He took a moment to collect his thoughts before he met Jimin’s curious eyes. As soon as he did, he immediately hoped that he hadn’t done anything to Jimin to hint at what his dreams consisted of.

“Are you ok, Taehyungie?” Jimin asked sweetly, while scooting closer to him. “You looked like you were having a nightmare. You kept moaning and moving against the couch. Was something chasing you?”

After releasing a nervous giggle, Taehyung shook his head and breathed out a sigh of relief. Jimin lifted a hand to rub at Taehyung’s shoulder, trying to ease the tension he could see tormenting his soulmate. Fortunately, Jimin didn’t seem to have a clue about what just occurred in Taehyung’s dream, so it appeared as though he was in the clear.

“I’m ok, Jiminie,” Taehyung assured his soulmate. “Just a weird dream, that’s all.”

Still though...what the hell was that all about?

Footsteps were heard coming from the hallway, and Yoongi appeared at the threshold looking less pissed than before. His facial expression gave off a serious vibe, but his eyes were sparkling with contentment.

Oh man, something happened between him and Y/N, I just know it.

“Hey, guys,” Yoongi greeted them with a sigh. “I’m sorry about my harsh words earlier, but I was really worried that we’d harmed our guest and it really upset me. I apologize if I hurt any of your feelings, but I didn’t want Y/N to have a bad impression of us. She’s only been here a few days, and we haven’t been taking care of her properly.”

Everyone offered up an apology at once and Taehyung almost missed Jimin’s hand slipping down and under the pillow on his lap. Delicate ringed fingers slid over the hardened outline of his erection over his pajama pants and Taehyung resisted the urge to yelp. His head snapped over to look at Jimin, but Taehyung found the cherubim's eyes locked onto Yoongi.

What the fuck are you doing, Jimin?

Yoongi lifted his hands and quieted everyone down and then leaned against the kitchen counter to look at them.

“Yoongi-hyung,” Jungkook piped up. “Is Noona ok?”

“Yes, Jungkookie,” Yoongi smiled softly. “She’s awake and she’s ok. She used some machine to run some tests on herself, but we have to wait for the results. Whatever fever she had earlier is gone now, but she’s feeling a little weak. She will probably be in bed all day.”

“Can we go in and talk to her now, Yoongi-hyung?” Hoseok asked. “Would she be ok with that?”

“I told her that you needed to talk to her and she’s waiting for you now,” Yoongi replied. “Visiting hours are open, but please, only go in a few at a time. I don’t want to overwhelm her.”

“Hobi-hyung and I will go first,” Jungkook spoke up. “We want to tell her about the weird stuff that’s been happening.”  

Taehyung was about to speak up, but Jimin’s hand retreated from his lap and he was momentarily distracted.

“You guys go ahead,” Jimin suggested. “Taehyungie and I will go in and see her after you’re done. If we all take turns, she won’t have to be alone unless she wants to.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Yoongi agreed. “Where’s Jin? Still sulking?”

“I sent him to his room,” Hoseok explained. “I told him he’s grounded until we find out more information from Bang PD-nim.”

“Ok,” Yoongi nodded. “I’m going to go shower and change while you two visit. It’s been a long morning and I’m exhausted. Tell Y/N that I’ll be back to bring her something to eat after I’m done.”

With that, Yoongi turned around and made a beeline for his room and Hoseok and Jungkook followed him into the hallway, heading to the end of the hall to Y/N’s room.

Left alone, Taehyung readjusted himself on the couch as Jimin turned sideways and stared at him with a neutral expression on his face. The living room was eerily quiet and Taehyung zoned out listening to the sound of the air conditioning kicking on once again.

“So,” Jimin’s voice broke through the tension in the room. “Do you want to tell me why you were dry humping the couch while nuzzling my dick earlier, Taehyungie?”

Taehyung inhaled too quickly at Jimin’s sudden question and ended up coughing uncontrollably. When he was finally able to speak, he met Jimin’s fiery gaze and gasped at the seductive grin blooming on his face.

Fuck...

Author’s Note: I finally got back to this story again. I’m hitting a stride with the plot and I am going to start working on the next big chapter since I already have most of it outlined. Things are getting a little sticky in the VMin corner, and I think the dynamics of their relationship are finally evening out. Should make the next couple of chapters very interesting. Thank you to @xxxille-girlxxx​, my gorgeous Goguma, for Beta reading this for me. Borahae, soulmate!

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