#rust she will LITERALLY fall asleep on you if you let her buddy

[akuzeisms]

  CONTINUED     ⤷ @grownpale

Lately, it feels like they don’t get much time to do… anything, really. Everything was happening rapidly, before they could even process it; they were flying from system to system, with new war data coming in by the second, her team organizing it, her coordinating back and forth with Hackett and the rest of their allies… There was no such thing as a break for her. Even sleep was hard to come by; any time she tried, she’d find herself plagued with nightmares fueled by her own uncertainty about every decision she made.

But shore leave meant a reprieve. She was beginning to understand why Anderson had strong-armed her into taking the apartment off his hands; there was a certain atmosphere to it, one she found more relaxing than she’d expected. Maybe it was enough for her to fall asleep; maybe it wasn’t, but at least resting wouldn’t hurt.

That kiss was enough to get her attention, though; her cheeks visibly pinkened at the gesture, the shyest of smiles crossing her features. What better way to spend it than with him? She was more than grateful to have him her. He kept her sane, kept her grounded through everything, even when things became more and more strained. “I’m just… glad you’re here.” Shaking her head, her thoughts turned momentarily somber. “If we’d left you back on Earth… god, I can’t imagine. It’s bad enough Anderson’s down there, but…” She wouldn’t have been able to think straight if he’d been left down there, too.

Heaving a sigh as she tried to push the thoughts away, she snuggled down further, tugging the sleeves of her sweater down over her hands as she tucked in against him, closing her eyes. “Just wish I wasn’t so damn tired. I should at least be allowed to have fun on shore leave. Not… sleep.”

[sinfullystanning]

V is for Voler Part 3: Hell in Heaven

Bucky Barnes x Darcy Lewis (Wintershock)

A/N: I know I probably should have waited, and spaced things out, but I couldn’t help it, I’m posting it now! Thank you to everyone who’ve been supporting the new changes to the fic!

The cool Paris night air ruffled Bucky’s hair as he climbed the rickety metal fire escape stairs behind V. He might have been an assassin once, but he felt like a bag of bricks compared to the way she moved. Even as his footsteps here quieter than most, they seemed to echo in comparison to the soundless way she practically flew up flight after flight of stairs. Her feet moved in precise yet memorized steps making it clear that she’s taken this route more than a few times. Even in heels that could easily catch in the grated metal and the long dress that would have limited the leg movement of any other woman, she moved as if she were wearing the most comfortable clothes in the world.

Finally, the stairs ended on a landing similar to all the others, all once-red, now-rusted iron railings, and just enough front space to fit a welcome mat and perhaps a flower pot or two. This landing, however, unlike the others before it, was empty. As a matter of fact, to the casual observer, it seemed as if no one lived in the top floor unit, as it was devoid of life and emotion, nothing that remotely clued in the fact that anyone lived there.

That’s why Bucky was absolutely taken aback when V turned the key in the lock and held the door open behind her to invite him in. If the outside of the house screamed decrepit inactivity, the inside boasted opulent extravagance. The walls were painted black with a tastefully stenciled on vine pattern that was all Parisian charm in bold red. The crown molding that ran along the top of the room was an elegant gold that caught and threw light across space. The short entryway led into an open living room with a surprisingly high ceiling that was painted red and accentuated by a sizable skylight. The room was furnished with pieces in various blacks and shades of red with specks of gold here and there, with a handsome gold-painted fireplace looking over the space. Bucky’s eyes caught an identical pair of frames adorning the gilded ledge that held small canvases that both read “voler,” one in red paint and the other in black. “Voler,” the same word he’d seen on V’s back earlier.

He walked over to run a curious finger along one of them before turning to search for his host, eyes finding her leaning against a post by the entrance to what he assumed was the kitchen. Nodding in the direction of the frames without taking his eyes off of her he asked, “What’s with the word?”

V’s position was that of guarded nonchalance, appearing relaxed to most, but Bucky knew that her senses were working double time, watching him without wanting him to feel watched. Too bad he was an expert at the tactic himself. She shifted her weight at his question, arms crossing just a tad tighter across her chest, her hair slipping from where it had been pinned against the pillar by her head to gracefully arrange itself around her taut shoulders. Finally, she broke her silence, “I heard you tonight, your French isn’t too bad, you tell me, Soldat.”

Bucky frowned. “First, I told you to call me Bucky. Second-”

“Why? I like seeing you all riled up, Soldat.” Her eyes sparkled with laughter as he glared at her. “You were saying?”

He tried his best to let it go, but every utterance of that word from his past was an annoyingly sharp prick in his brain. “Voler, it’s a verb, to fly.” Right? his eyes asked as they met hers, his icy blue battling the roaring waves of hers.

“Half correct. Voler is an interesting verb as it has two meanings. One, the one you stated, to fly, but another as well, to steal.” Her eyes danced as her red lips curled into a devilish smile.

“So you’re a thief?” Bucky grabbed the string with both hands, anything that could possibly disclose more information about the woman in front of him.

V scoffed. “Such a crude word. I’m a freelancer, I’ll do anything, for a price. I’ll be anything, a thief, an assassin, et cetera. Why, did you need something stolen, because usually I don’t take on multiple jobs at once, but I think I could make an exception for you.” She was toying with him, but rather than pissing him off, Bucky felt a thrill of adrenaline run through him. Winning against her was going to be harder than he thought.

“Why ‘V’?” He was pushing his luck, but he had to know. “We both know that’s not your real name.”

Surprisingly, she answered without a pause. “V, the Roman numeral for five. Five fingers make a fist, five fingers can hold a gun, five fingers can kill.” Her eyes glinted with danger but Bucky was sinking right in.

He decided it was time to change topics, however, and reigned in his thoughts. “So, is there a reason you brought me here because I know it’s not because you trust me.”

She chuckled, conceding to the change of topic. “If we’re going to work together, we’re going to need to literally work together, so you’ll be staying here.” Bucky was dumbfounded, but she was smart, bringing the fight onto her home turf, upending the playing field. “Unless that’s a problem?” She asked the question but Bucky knew there was only one answer.

“Not at all.” She nodded at that before straightening up, stretching before turning to disappear down a hallway. “You’re taking the couch.” She called over her shoulder as she went.

The moment she was gone, Bucky let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, flopping down onto the black leather affair in front of the fireplace, running a tired hand through his hair before reaching down to loosen his tie. Just as he closed his eyes for a second, he felt a thrum through his senses, and his eyes shot back open, just in time to see the cause for the movement he’d registered.

Standing in front of him was a wolf. At least it definitely looked like one. Its coat was pitch black, fitting the rest of the decor of the room so well that he wouldn’t have been sure it was real if not for the slight rise and fall of its chest as it watched him soundlessly. Had it been in the room the whole time? He started to wonder if his age was finally catching up to him, as V’s life always seemed to run one step ahead of him. Or maybe it was just some intoxicating spell she had on him, dulling his senses, making him vulnerable.

Neither of them moved until finally, Bucky regained his composure and slowly extended a downturned hand to the animal to smell. Before it could, however, a voice broke the silence. “Thief, he’s a friend." Bucky heard V come back into the room, slowly crossing over to the couch. “Don’t move.” She advised him but it was then that the wolf, Thief apparently, opened his mouth and extended a rough pink tongue that licked Bucky’s hand before then nudging it with his nose. Bucky acquiesced, patting the jet-black snout gently before Thief invited him to scratch his head.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” V said, clearly surprised by the animal’s behavior. Bucky turned to look up at her.

“So were you planning to tell me you had a wolf living here too, or just mention it after I died in my sleep?”

“He’s not a wolf, he’s a German Shepherd.” She said, but Bucky could hear a note of guilt in her voice.

“Good to know. Now, are there any other roommates I should know about?” He asked as Thief wagged his tail, clearly pleased with the attention Bucky was giving him.

V shook her head. Bucky took a minute to admire her, she’d changed out of her finery into a red lace pajama top and black satin shorts that brushed her thighs with a matching robe, currently open, and a pair of glasses now perched on her nose. “I don’t get it.” She said, pulling his attention back as she gazed at her dog in astonishment. “He LIKES you.”

“One more thing you two have in common, other than your taste in color, apparently.” Bucky joked pleasantly.

“You don’t get it. Thief’s never met another person before.” That piqued Bucky’s interest.

“Never?”

V shook her head, now-loose curls bobbing. “I got him when he was just a puppy and he exercises on the roof.” She explained as if that cleared up everything.

“Well, maybe he just needed a friend,” Bucky said, shrugging. V nodded but was clearly lost in thought over something else.

She broke out of it for a second, tossing Bucky the blanket he hadn’t noticed she was holding. “Bathroom’s over there.” She motioned behind her towards the hallway she’d disappeared down earlier. “Thief, let’s go, it’s bedtime.” Thief had other plans, however, laying down on the rug next to the sofa. “Traître.” Traitor. She muttered at him before turning around and disappearing back the way she came.

Bucky sighed, gaze drifting to his new companion who was watching him back from his place on the floor. “You’re not going to kill me in my sleep are you, buddy?” He said as he untied his dress shoes and pulled off his socks, followed by his suit jacket and tie that he laid out on the armchair next to his make-shift bed before spreading the blanket over the surprisingly-wide couch and climbing underneath it, letting sleep take him.

***

Darcy woke up in the middle of the night. Groaning, she rolled out of her expansive four-poster king-sized bed. For the first time, it felt too big for one person. Sliding her glasses back onto her nose and grabbing her robe off of the crowded hatstand by her bedroom door, she crept out into the hallway, soundlessly making her way towards the kitchen. After procuring the glass of water she saught, she leaned against the kitchen counter as she drank, watching the back of the couch. Curiosity got the best of her and she padded over, stopping to let a smile steal across her face at the sight of Bucky asleep with Thief draped over him. Perhaps Thief was right about Bucky and blind faith wasn’t such a bad thing to place in him, but Bucky Barnes was an Avenger and though Darcy had only met one other Avenger in her life, she knew exactly what kind of damage they could deal, so she wiped the smile from her face and headed back to bed.

Taglist:

@gamorarogers @callie-bear15 @spacemansam @vulgarvalyrian @cchellacat

[the-paris-of-people]

I’m really, really tempted to write the backstory behind Chidi and Eleanor’s kiss at the train station, in a reboot where Chidi and Eleanor both have different soulmates. 

Initially, they hate each other. Chidi thinks Eleanor’s crass and selfish and incapable of change, and Eleanor thinks Chidi is boring and rigid and unable to cut loose. But slowly, they develop this deep intimacy unmatched by either of their soulmates- they fall asleep on the couch after reading side-by-side, they binge-watch Keeping Up with the Kardashians while munching on popcorn shrimp, and they dangle their legs off the dock while they share their deepiest secrets, tweezed out of Eleanor by Chidi’s warm eyes, tumbling out of Chidi by Eleanor’s lifted eyebrows. Talking is so easy and natural, and the world grows more vibrant when they’re together. Eleanor’s rickety chairs sink like suede couches, and frozen yogurt melts like ice cream on their tongues, and the neighborhood air suddenly smells fresh and sweet and free. Slowly, they touch each other casually more and more- Chidi skims Eleanor’s arm to congratulate her on a well-written paper, and Eleanor seizes any excuse to hug Chidi, and soon, they realize they never want to leave each other’s side. 

But it all befuddles Chidi. He’s not supposed to have feelings for Eleanor. She’s not even supposed to be here, and he’s her teacher, and he’s supposed to be in love with someone else- a beautiful woman named Maria with a penchant for deontology and an appreciation of maafe and a willingness to plan the romantic dates that Chidi’s always dreamed of. But even with her sweet disposition and her soft voice, Eleanor is the one Chidi can’t stop thinking about. He imagines weaving his fingers through her hair while they kiss, and waking up with her head tucked underneath his chin, and scolding her when she brushes her teeth too hastily and claims  “it’s The Good Place, and cavities don’t exist.” He lets his longing spring to life only at night, and as he slips into tranquil sleep, he’s filled with joy as he remembers that, even though he has to bury his feelings way down deep, at least he gets to teach Eleanor tomorrow morning. 

The six month anniversary party of the neighborhood rolls around and Chidi’s more nervous than ever- he has to somehow act cool in front of both Maria AND Eleanor, and at Tahani’s fancy mansion, too. He can’t handle it. He can barely lie about what he ate for breakfast, how can he make it through an entire night? He’s jumpy as he strolls in with Maria on his arm, grabbing a glass of white wine from Janet to ease his pain.

Then spots Eleanor across the room, and he loses it. 

She doesn’t look much different from usual (aside from the red lipstick and the black dress), but she just illuminates the room. She’s confident and funny and brave and wonderful. She’s all Chidi can see and it makes him dizzy. Immediately, she strides towards him from across the room, winking and dishing out a bold compliment about his well-fitting suit. He mumbles incoherently, something about how nice she looks, and she spits back a joke that causes him to groan and laugh and ache all at once. 

A Billie Holliday song spills over the grand floor, and Eleanor clears her throat. 

“Well, um-” She tucks her hair behind her ears. “I better be getting back to Chris.” 

“Oh, no!” Maria insists. “Friends should at least share one dance together. Chris and I will sit this one out. I’m sure he’ll be okay with it.” 

Chidi stammers out an excuse as Maria walks towards the bar, but Eleanor rolls her eyes. She pulls Chidi towards her. 

“What could one dance hurt?” she claims, swaying back and forth with him to the crooning voice. 

Chidi should be anxious and frightened. He should be stiff, paralyzed from head to toe, soaked underneath his button down. 

But being held in Eleanor’s arms, her hand pressed against his back, he’s filled with something he’s never felt before. He’s relaxed. He’s joyful. He’s calm. It’s funny, really, she was meant to strike chaos in his haven, then she brought light into it instead. 

“So,” He begins. “You haven’t stolen any shrimp yet, or threatened to rob Tahani’s gold, or snatched my glass of wine from my hand...” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m such a good person,” Eleanor scoffs, then she perks up and exclaims, “Hey! I’m such a good person now! Suck on that, old Eleanor!” 

Chidi shakes his head and chuckles. 

“And, hey, buddy, you’re not sweating through your jacket,” She notices, affectionately rubbing her hands up and down his back. “Usually halfway through your first glass of wine, you’re soaked through your shirt.” 

Chidi tilts his head at Eleanor. She remembered that about him? Eleanor Shellstrop, who forgot he was from Senegal, that he was a college professor, that he had two sisters, catalogued that he could barely make it through half a glass of wine without breaking into a sweat? 

“Chidi?” She asks softly. “Are you okay?”

“I- um, I don’t, well you see- I just-” His mind clears as his eyes drop to her colored lips. “Eleanor, I just-” 

The ground below them quakes. 

“Earthquake!” Michael bellows. Chidi freezes with the trembling of the floor, but of course, Eleanor whisks him to safety. He follows her lead as she dashes behind the frozen yogurt shop. He clings to her as she strokes his back, waiting until the tremors grind to a halt. 

“Hey, Chidi,” She takes his face in her hands and repeats herself. “Chidi? Are you okay?” 

He drowns in her eyes, then snaps himself out of it. He’s not supposed to be here. He’s not supposed to be here. The laws of the universe were immutable, and this was just another reason rules weren’t supposed to be broken. They weren’t supposed to dance together and they did, and the ground below them TREMBLED. They literally caused a natural disaster with their bond. And he ran away from his soulmate because he was so focused on staying with Eleanor. What the actual fork was he doing? 

“I have to go,” He murmurs without so much as a glance. “Goodbye, Eleanor.” 

He knows her face is falling as he scampers off. 

***

The next morning, Eleanor pulls him aside at the neighborhood meeting. 

“Dude, something isn’t right,” She hisses. “We dance together as friends and a forking earthquake happens? Don’t you see what’s going on? Michael’s messing with us! Don’t worry, I have a plan.. I asked Janet and she called us a train to go-” 

“Look, Eleanor,” Chidi cuts her off. His heart sinks as her eye take ahold of him. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think we can be friends anymore.” 

“What?” Her smile drops. She folds her arms. “Are you forking kidding me, Chidi?” 

“Listen, I’m sorry, but... I have to obey the onus I have to this community, to Maria... I can’t just abandon my code of morality to help you.” 

“I thought your code of morality included keeping a promise?” Eleanor challenges. “What happened to what we owe to each other? Last time I checked, I kind of thought we told each other we were best friends.” 

“Eleanor,” He steps forward to comfort her. 

“Can it, Chidi,” She snaps, her eyes already red-rimmed. “I’ll just escape by myself. I don’t need you, anyway.” 

*** 

He’s still heaving sighs when he gets to his apartment. Maria’s helping out with the damage, and he promised her he’d change and meet her there. 

How could he hurt her like that? How could he watch her be hurt like that? He knew he had made other people in his life miserable with his indecision, but this, this ripped out his heart, watching her fight her tears. He loved her, and he hurt her. 

He traces the copy of What We Each Other on the counter. 

He loved her, and he hurt her. 

What the hell was he doing? 

It was always Eleanor. He loved Eleanor. It didn’t matter how or what or when or why, but he needed to get on that train with her. He needed to be with her. 

He sweeps his clothes into a bag, scribbles a note to Maria, and runs down to the train station as fast as he possibly can. 

She turns around to meet his eyes. 

Eleanor. 

He tosses his bag to the side and she drops hers and he rushes forward to show her how he feels. He cradles her face and places his lips gently on hers. Her lips are soft and sweet and gentle in return to his, and he can feel her, feel as she curls herself into his body, sighing into the kiss as if she’s dreamed about this as much as Chidi has. 

They can’t stop gazing at each other after they pull away. 

“Chidi,” Eleanor utters softly, sliding her hands across his back. 

“Eleanor,” Chidi replies, drawing her closer to him. 

He embraces her until the train pulls in. 

Tagging @alys07 @ellascinders @cheleanorwhore @montygreen @chidi-anagonye @foreveranevilregal @opal-and-rust @shirbertbellarkeblythe @gordongordon because I thought you would enjoy!