#the people who just screamed when they got off the treadmill so real

[samonmain]

What’s insane about the challenges like the treadmill one is that the second you hear it is sounds so intimidating (for most people) and as hard as they’re making it someone is going to win some crazy fit athlete in that room is going to place first that’s insane to me

[soggylampshade-11]

Dead Like Me. Chapter 2.

Hi. I didn't expect this to pop off the way it did, so thank you so much! Here's the second chapter, I hope you like it!

Trigger warnings: mentions of SA, language, body/sex shaming, brief mentioning of s*icide, brief mention of drug use

Chapter 1 Chapter 3

Chapter 2

For a lot of reasons, I waited until class was in session to go to the girls’ locker room. I wanted to wash Zach Hines off me and change out of the shorts he made feel dirty. I was grateful for the first time since I died that I was an athlete. I had at least two other changes of clothes in my gym locker that I grabbed before any police could take it as evidence or whatever they did during investigations. 

I scrubbed my entire body until my skin burned then crouched under the water. I wasn’t going to sit on the nasty floor of the group shower, I knew all the things that touched it. I just needed a second to let out everything I was feeling about what happened. There were so many memories and emotions washing over me that I just had to sob for a minute without the prying eyes of other people. Even if they had good intentions like Charley and Wally. 

After I felt a little better, I turned off the water and put myself back together. I wore leggings and a sports bra with a jacket over it and my sneakers. I wasn’t really sure what I was supposed to do now that I was dead other than wander around the school aimlessly. That was a better plan in theory because wandering aimlessly let me hear all the rumors swirling about me.

“Have you heard about Sabrina Wellington? She let the football team run a line on her then killed herself under the bleachers.”

“Have you heard Sabrina Wellington overdosed under the bleachers last night?”

“Have you heard about that cheerleader who hooked up with Zach Hines then got into an accident because she was drinking and driving?”

The last one didn’t even make sense because they found my body on campus. Regardless, it was hard hearing the rumors about me having sex with anybody. I was a virgin when I died. If things had gone any further with Zach before he killed me, it definitely wouldn’t have been because I wanted it to.

I ended up just putting in my headphones and running on a treadmill in the gym. I found out people couldn’t see me unless they were dead and couldn’t tell if I was using objects around them. I also figured out ghosts couldn’t sweat. That was nice considering I was running at full speed with Rob Zombie blaring so loud in my headphones I couldn’t string together a single thought if I wanted to. 

By the end of the school day, I’d run almost seven miles on the treadmill. I’d listened to Rob Zombie and Slipknot’s entire discography. Headphones were the best way to block out all the bullshit. Unfortunately, they did nothing about seeing Zach Hines walk through the parking lot after class like nothing was wrong. 

I wanted to scream and hit and punch and let him know how I felt. I tried, but he didn’t miss a step and continued going to his truck. I picked up a big rock from the parking lot and launched it through the back glass of his truck, but the glass instantly pieced itself back together. 

“We can’t mess with anything in the real world,” Charley said, coming up to stand beside me. “If you can even hear me right now that is.”

“Huh? Why couldn’t I hear you?” I asked, turning my body to face his. 

“Wally said he tried talking to you earlier when you were running, but you ignored him. Then I saw you wearing those headphones that kids wear now that have no cords on them. You still have them in, so I figured you might not be able to hear me,” he explained with a sheepish shrug. “But I guess that’s not an issue.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve had a horrible first day being dead and wanted to shut my brain off for a while,” I told him, getting my case out of my jacket pocket and sticking my headphones into me. “Sometimes the only way to do that is to blare music so loud it should burst my eardrums.”

“Right, I get that. I miss my discman like crazy,” he agreed. “I picked the wrong day to leave it at home.”

“When did you die?” I asked, realizing how rude that was a beat later. “Shit, sorry, that was insensitive.”

“No, it’s fine. I died of anaphylactic shock in 1994,” he replied, the two of us walking back into the empty school together. 

“Are you and I the youngest ghosts here?” I asked, holding open the door for both of us. “Because I don’t recognize anybody but Wally and that’s because there’s a picture of him outside the boys’ locker room.”

“You’re the first ghost we’ve gotten since I’ve been here,” he agreed, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. “Rhonda was my guide when I got here. Not that she isn’t cool, but I think I’m a lot friendlier than her. Granted, I’m not 6’2 with big puppy dog eyes or anything… but I’m a close second, I think.”

“I’m glad I had you to greet me, you’re a very calming guy,” I praised, watching him smile proudly. “I died because a football player was pissed I wouldn’t hook up with him under the bleachers last night… and you saw my dead body. I feel like we’ve bonded on a whole different level.”

Charley laughed at that, the two of us falling into step together as we walked into the teachers’ lounge. Rhonda and Wally were already there, both greeting us when we entered. I sat on the sofa beside Wally and propped my legs up. 

“I’m sorry I ignored you earlier when I was running out my anger,” I told him, bringing my airpods out of my pocket to show them to him. “I had these in and I was on a mission to outrun my anger. I didn’t do it today, but tomorrow’s a new day... at least I assume I can charge my airpods here.”

“Aipods?” he asked, glancing at the square box in my hand. 

I grinned at that and opened them, handing one to him after I turned them on. “Put it in your ear and trust me.”

He did as I said without hesitation and I put in the other one, playing a Fleetwood Mac song. I figured Korn wasn’t really his jam. I wouldn’t admit to it, but I ended up playing a playlist I made for when I rode around with my dad. I refused to think about how they were probably around the same age, at least they would be if Wally wasn’t dead. 

“What are you thinking about?” he asked a few songs in. 

“My dad,” I answered honestly. “I can’t imagine he’s doing too good without me right now. I’d say my brother’s home from college and with him. I’m just glad he’s not alone.”

My dad and I lived alone in the home he bought with my mother back when they were pretending to be in love. My brother, Oliver, was born when they were nineteen and I was born when they were twenty-one. They were together until I was seven and Oliver was nine.

We woke up one morning and realized we were really late for school. Dad left before daylight, leaving the responsibility of getting us ready and on the bus to mom. We looked around the house for her and found a note stuck to the fridge. 

I can’t do it anymore. Love, mom

My dad always said she was a free spirit who couldn’t be tied down for too long. I thought that was a really nice way of saying she was selfish. I hadn’t spoken to her since I was twelve and she crashed my birthday party at the roller rink. She’d been drunk and decided she should be celebrated for giving birth to me. That night my dad explained to me and Oliver that she’d always had a drinking problem and left because dad told her she had to get help or he was going to take us away. 

“My dad stopped coming to my games years ago, but mom still shows up and screams like I’m running plays,” Wally sighed,  bringing me back to the teachers’ lounge. “His seat’s empty until I sit in it. She doesn��t know I’m there, but it makes me feel better to be with her. Now that I say it out loud, it sounds really stupid.”

“Not stupid,” I disagreed, bringing my legs up onto the sofa to sit cross legged. “Thank you for making it feel kind of okay that I died.”

“It’s not okay, but I don’t want you to feel alone,” he corrected, squeezing my knee comfortingly. “I know what it’s like to feel alone in a room full of people. I don’t want other people to feel like that.”

“I do, too. Cheerleaders aren’t the most emotionally mature people in the world,” I agreed. “When I was fourteen, I went to the hospital because I sucked at eating. When I came back, one of the other girls on the team started a rumor that I got pregnant and went away to get an abortion.”

“There’s not enough money in the world for me to be a teenage girl,” Charley stated, reminding me he and Rhonda were in the room with us.

“Yeah, being a dead gay kid is so much better,” Rhonda remarked, making me snort. 

“Try being a teenage girl who’s bisexual and dead. It’s a real riot,” I remarked, the music changing to a Joan Jett song. “Wow, fitting.”

I was shocked at how comfortable I felt with these people I didn’t know existed until this morning. My entire world was turned upside down in a night, but they made it feel like I could be okay here. At least as okay as you could be when you were spending your after life in high school, I guess. 

~

Thank you so much for continuing to read my story! I appreciate each and every one of you so much!

[noctumbra]

❝tight❞

summary ─ “hmm, yes, dolly?” you whined for real this time, making him smirk against your skin mischievously. “you want something?”

pairing ─ boxer!bucky barnes x reader

warnings ─ smut, +18, gym shower sex, dirty talk, pet names, fingering

a/n ─ just gonna post this and go back into hiding. this schedule is the new black gals. i’ll post if i write, and i don’t write then i’ll post whenever i write lol this is the conclusion i have finally come up with. hope you like it! please leave a comment if you do! thank you <33

KINKTOBER DAY TWELVE: boxer!bucky + gym shower sex + humiliation kink

You stepped into the workout area with your towel on your shoulder and your water bottle in hand. Your headphones were around your neck, your phone was tied to your thigh securely. There were people around; lifting weights, running or jogging on the treadmill, cycling, jumping rope… Lots of grunts and groans and victorious moans were filling the large space.

You walked around a couple guys who were doing sit-ups and found yourself an empty treadmill. You always started your workout with a light jog, most people stretched you had observed, but you liked to jog. Setting up the pace, you started your workout with your workout playlist blasting through your headphones and let the time wash away as you got rid of the extra energy.

Not realizing how long it had passed since you had started your workout, you stopped doing sit-ups for a short break. You were soaked; your hair was sticking to your skin and your workout gear was partially wet because of your sweat. Breathing deeply and steadily, you pulled off your headphones. While you were lost in your head, the gym had emptied itself.

Well, almost.

He was in the ring like usual you realized, seeing his reflection from the mirror wall.

James.

He usually came to the gym after 9PM. He liked the quiet and liked being alone, you assumed, and you really couldn’t blame him because you, too, liked the quiet and being alone while working out. You knew that if he were to come early, he couldn’t workout as effectively as he was now because there would be a lot of people who’d ask questions about boxing.

James was a boxer.

You learned that from Sam. He had championships on some… ballsy competition was what Sam had told you. You weren’t into boxing so you usually just admired the man doing his thing.

He was working with Steve per usual. Both of them beefy and handsome as hell, you watched them move on the ring like silk fabrics sliding against each other. Their moves were so smooth but held so much strength beneath, it always got you wet just by watching them boxing together. They were topless, only had a pair of black basketball shorts and wraps on their hands. Both their chests were shining under the light, a soft sheen of sweat covering their bulging biceps and chests.

You shook yourself out of your trance when your eyes found James’ cold blue ones. Feeling your face heating up because of his look, you ducked your head and decided to continue to your workout before your body got cold. Putting on your headphones back, you returned to your workout.

It was actually James who touched your shoulder and pointed your headphones when you looked up at him.

“Hi,” he said, “Steve said that he was closing for tonight, but you didn’t hear him.” You frowned. You didn’t know your workout lasted this long. Pulling your phone out from where it was strapped to your thigh, you checked the time.

“Holy shit,” you murmured. James chuckled lightly.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “I told Steve that I could close up since I needed the extra hour of training, but I really need to close up.” He smiled at you sheepishly. You nodded.

“No, of course!” You jumped to your feet, but forgetting about the head rush, you had to grab his bicep to stand on your feet.

“Whoa,” James said, his other hand grabbing you by the waist. “You okay?” You swayed on your feet dangerously, looking pale as hell as you did so. James frowned and tightened his hold around you. He really didn’t want you pass out or fall.

“’m fine,” you murmured. “Head rush,” you added as you blinked furiously. “I’ll be going shortly.” James nodded.

“You could take it slow,” he said, “Hell, you should take it slow. I’ll wait until you’re out of shower. I need one, too, anyway. I stink.” You chuckled at him softly. Nodding, you grabbed your things and stood slower this time. You walked towards the showers together silently. His presence next to you wasn’t as intimidating as you thought it would be, and you smiled at yourself.

“I think you know your way around─ ah, hell,” he cursed. You turned your head to see what was happening.

Apparently the men’s showers were closed because there was cleaning inside. Biting your lip, you looked at him as an idea formed into your mind.

“You could, um,” you started, “use the women’s? It’s only me anyway and I can check if there’s someone just in case?” James frowned slightly before nodding. You smiled at him and quickly ran inside; checking every shower, you made sure that there was no one. “It’s empty. Come on.”

“Gimme a minute? I gotta grab my bag,” he said, jerking his head towards the lockers. You nodded. “Don’t be afraid when I come inside though.” You chuckled and nodded again. Parting your ways with him, you opened your locker and retrieved your bigger towel. You took of your sweaty gear and put them into a small separate bag. With your shampoo and soap in your hand, you walked in one of the showers and turned on the hot water. As the hot water kicked in, you hung your towel just outside of the shower doors, and ducked under the water.

Feeling all the stickiness slowly going through the drain, you closed your eyes.

You yelped when you felt two hands grabbing you by the waist and pulling you against a ripped chest.

“Sssh,” James hushed you. “I told you don’t be afraid when I come inside, right?” He whispered into your ear, making you shudder under the hot water.

“I─ I didn’t expect─” He hummed at your way of tripping over your own words.

“I can go,” he murmured. “I can go to the one at the very end if you’re not up for this,” he added. “I really want this, though.” His nose poked the soft skin behind your ear, body molded against yours, you felt your body melt in his embrace. “You tell me no, and I take it to the heart, but─” James chuckled darkly. “I’ve been seeing you, honey,” he murmured. “Seeing you watch me. You watch me with those sexy eyes, making me lose my focus. Steve always gets a good punch in whenever you distract me.”

You whined so silently, you weren’t sure that he heard over the water’s roaring sound.

“The way you move, though,” James hummed approvingly. “Those leggings? Gets me hard the second I see them hugging your body the way they do.”

“James…” you whispered, causing him to tighten his hold around you.

“Hmm, yes, dolly?” You whined for real this time, making him smirk against your skin mischievously. “You want something?” You nodded, your hand finding his on your stomach. “Say it out loud, please,” he whispered. You had to swallow a couple times to get your tongue working again.

“Fuck me,” you whispered as your eyes found his over your shoulder. His cold steel blue eyes weren’t as cold as before now; they were warm, but dark, burning with restrained desire. “Please?”

Hearing him growl was your ‘yes’ and suddenly, you were plastered against the cold, shower wall. Yelping from the sudden coolness on your warm skin, you flinched back, but James was there to corner you.

His ripped body was a furnace behind you; his erection pressing against your ass, you felt his hands move upwards. You hummed, arching into the warmth that was coming off of his body and sneaked a hand in his wet hair. James kissed your exposed neck, hands grabbing your breasts softly, he squeezed them; causing you to moan loudly.

“Hush, honey,” James murmured. “The cleaners are still around.” You whimpered, but he was right. Getting caught by them would be a nightmare and you probably would have to change your gym. Which you did not want. “I know you wanna make noises,” James assured you, “I want to hear you, too, baby, but you gotta keep it quiet for tonight, okay? Next time, I’ll have you screaming freely.”

You shuddered at the mention of next time. There would be a next time in his book then, you thought, and felt giddy about it. Your focus turned to him again; his hips were moving against your ass slowly, smearing precum all over the soft flesh and let the water wash it away.

“Please?” You whispered.

His hand left your breast, found his cock and he lined up against your wet pussy. Running the tip of his cock up and down a couple times just to tease you, he slid inside. The pain of his cock stretching your pussy got you gasping into the tiles; he didn’t have a long cock, he was average in the height department. His girth, however, that was a whole different story.

James groaned into your shoulder as he bottomed out. His hot breath was licking over the wet skin, making you shiver in his arms every once in a while. He kissed your shoulder, nosed your ear and the hand that had left your breast had found its way back there.

“Tight,” he snarled. “Tighter than a virgin, aren’t ya, dolly?” You whined lowly as you nodded. His hips were moving just like before; slow and sensual, but you knew that he was coming to an end of his patience. “Never had a pussy as tight as yours, honey. Gripping me so nicely, it’s like your pussy is hugging my cock, feels so damn good.”

You moaned as his cock grazed over a sensitive spot. Humming curiously, he did it again and again until it had you sobbing against the cold wall in front you silently.

“Is that the spot that can get you all weak and stupid for me, dolly?” James asked. His mouth was running and spitting filth non-stop. “Should I do it again? I bet you get so sweet, like a mewling kitten, when you’re a stupid dolly. Are you, honey?”

Sobbing harder as he did graze over that spot again like he said, you nodded. “Yes, yes! Please, God, please, please!” James hushed you. He kissed the side of your neck and started to move his hips faster. Hitting that spot over and over, you felt his balls smacking against your skin, too, and moaned at the feeling. It was adding a different sensation onto the ones that you were already drowning in.

You grabbed his bubbly ass, dug your nails as you pulled him against your body harder. James moaned deeply, breath licking over your ear. You swallowed all the noises he let out by turning your head and kissing him. James hummed. One of his hands cradled your jaw and he continued to kiss you as he fucked you faster and harder.

“Ah!” You shouted as his other hand found your clit and started to flick it furiously.

“Hush, stupid dolly,” he snarled. “I don’t want anyone to hear you while you’re like this. I don’t wanna be interrupted, either.” You nodded, tongue swelling in your mouth and stopping you from talking, you just nodded. “Such a good doll for me, aren’t ya? So good and weak for me.” Mewling, you bucked your hips, met his hips thrust by thrust.

“Pussy is goddamn good,” he groaned, loudly. “’s gonna make me come, honey,” he licked over your pulse and nibbled on it gently as the sensation tipped you over the edge. Your body shivered violently and hips bucked against his harshly, you dug your nails even deeper in his ass. You barely stifled your scream.

“Oh, fuck─” James growled. His hips were smacking against yours, cock driving in you at a mad pace, he grunted. You hummed as you melted in his arms. “’m gonna─ Fuck, ‘m─” Letting out a soft ‘ah’ sound, James came, too. You felt him twitch and jerk inside of you and chuckled, drunk on pleasure.

It took James a minute to collect himself. “So, I was wondering,” he started.

“Hm?” You murmured a response as you let him move you under the water fully and handed you your shampoo.

“I have this competition,” he said, “I’ve been meaning to ask, actually. I was gonna dine and wine you first,” he scratched the back of his neck as the pink color brightened his ears. You looked at him, grinning. “Will you come to my competition? Will you let me win it for ya, dolly?” Preening under his warm look and all the pet names he called you with, you nodded.

“Even though I won’t be enjoying you getting this face busted, I’d love to be there,” you said and trailed your fingers over his face. James grabbed your hand and kissed the inside of your wrist.

“Then it’s a date,” he winked at you and you both smiled at each other shyly.

──

James won that competition for you under twenty minutes, breaking a record at the same time. He got a busted lip, a split eyebrow and a gonna-bruise-badly injury on his cheekbone. Nothing was broken, and he was actually okay.

“Look!” He yelled at you as he pointed his raised fist by the referee. “I did it for you!” You felt all the warmth had rushed into your cheeks as you got nudged by Sam.

“You got an in love puppy following you around,” Sam murmured as he watched James.

“Well, I’m an in love kitten for him, so it’s mutual,” you said, smiling throughout the whole thing.

[tempestsreach-blog]

Fuck Diet Culture

This is going to be long.  It’s going to be rambly.  It’s going to be sad.  It’s going to be angry.  There’s going to be language some people don’t like. I can’t NOT talk about it though. 

Fuck diet culture.  Let me say that again.  Fuck. Diet. Culture. It has taken such a huge chunk out of my life.  I have lost pieces of myself I’m not sure I’ll ever get back.  The only way to heal is to go through.  I can’t go back.  I have to move forward.  But I can’t do it quietly.  I can’t hide.  I can’t live in the same shame I’ve spent the last 40 years in.  Literally.  40 years of my life wasted to this.  I can’t bear to live the back half of my life in the same way.  What the hell is the point? I’m not going to write this in any particular order because all of the thoughts and feelings swimming around are snapshots of things in my life that diet culture has broken in me or stolen from me. A lot of you aren’t going to agree with me.  That’s okay.  Truly.  This is about ME.  This is to help ME heal.  You can talk to me about your struggles, your diets, your ups and downs, your successes and whatnot.  I am here for you in all of it. But I won’t diet with you anymore.  Never again.

Currently I am having severe knee pain.  One knee is worse than the other, but both are bad.  I should go to the doctor.  I should have gone to the doctor years ago for it.  Want to know why I didn’t?  My weight.  I have injuries from overuse and over exercise and I am terrified that I am going to go to the doctor and the first words they’re going to say are “Well, if you lost 20, 30, 40, 50 pounds, it probably wouldn’t hurt so much.” instead of listening to me, examining me, scanning my knees and HELPING me.  I don’t feel this way irrationally.  This shit happens.  I am in pain.  I don’t know how to get help without being told to go on another diet that will not work.

Because diets don’t work.  Not long term.  I am excellent at losing weight!  I’ve done it over and over and over.  Then I stop restricting, counting, starving, and pushing myself.  Then my body says “What the fuck were you doing?” and puts it back. I lost the ability years ago to know whether I’m actually hungry or not.  I eat too fast when I do eat because if I snarf it down super fast I can get it in before my brain says “You’ve had too much.  Did you count those calories?  How many miles on a treadmill will you do to make up for that?  Did you actually earn this meal?”

Every time.  Every meal.  Every morsel.

I have never been officially diagnosed with an eating disorder.  Only been told by therapists and psychiatrists that I definitely engage in disordered eating.

No shit.

Every diet under the sun.  Cabbage soup.  Phen Fen.  Weight watchers (MULTIPLE TIMES), TOPS, Noom, My Fitness Pal calorie counting, intermittent fasting,  and every whacky bullshit thing in between promising results.  I’ve purchased fancy scales.  I’ve even tried one that wouldn’t show you your weight, but the color of your progress in the app.  Here’s a hint… if you gain, your color is black like death.  I’ve failed a million times and I’ve blamed myself.  I am the failure.  So I hate my body a little more every day and I stress about how I’m going to NOT pass my disordered eating and my food issues onto my kids.  My stress levels are through the roof and 98% of it is diet culture related. What the fuck is that about? Every time I start a program I hit it hard.  Last time I tried anything involving tracking or counting I was so starving by the time I got home from work that I almost ripped a child’s head off (not literally OBVIOUSLY) but I screamed at her at the top of my lungs because she hurt my feelings.  It wasn’t until after finally allowing myself to eat another morsel of food that I realized I was hangry.

Why is living in a larger body not acceptable?  We all talk about diversity and equality as though we believe it with our whole hearts, but that doesn’t cross over to fat.  Or skinny if we’re really being honest.  How many times have you heard or seen online “Oh my god, she’s so skinny.  Feed her a damn cheeseburger!  She looks anorexic.”  I know I have.  I know I’ve said those words.  I will punch myself in the gut if I ever say them again.  

Every body is different.  We are supposed to be.  Let’s not BLAME genetics like it’s a bad thing.  Let’s realize that it’s what nature has intended.  My father is over 6 feet tall and a large man.  He’s just a big man.  He went on Nutri System when I was young, lost a ton of weight, and put a bunch back on over the years because he is a big man.  My mother was not tall, but was always large.  I hated her body because HER PARENTS told her all the time she was fat and unworthy and cautioned me not to grow up to be like her in any way.  Even when she was poor and homeless she was still large.  That was the way her body was.  I wonder how different her life might have been if the size of her body hadn’t been a factor in the way she was raised or treated.  How might that have made my life different?

I know a lot of you are probably rolling your eyes at me right now about being vocal about another health plan or saying to yourself “just because you have trouble with diets doesn’t mean they don’t work”  I know there are people close to me thinking “She just always gets excited when she discovers a new diet, that’s probably what this is.”  NO.  

This is me finally realizing that I can heal and healing doesn’t mean I need to weigh 157 pounds. (That’s the weight limit for women my height to enter the air force when I did in 1992) This is me finally realizing that I’ve been lying about the weight on my drivers license for 30 years because gods forbid anyone saw my real weight on that document. This is me realizing that I’ve spent my life trying to live up to other people’s ideals of what I should look like because I assumed they wouldn’t like me otherwise. This is me realizing how much unintentional harm I could have been doing when sharing another diet, another idea, another bout of “well this is working really well for me!” with people I care about. This is me realizing how much damage I’ve been doing to myself living with this level of shame for 40 years. Hiding what I’m doing.  Suffering in silence.  Hiding food. Restricting.  Binging.  Over exercising to compensate.  Spending money on one last diet.  Spending emotional energy on one last hope. We were in Las Vegas for what was supposed to be a fun vacation last week and I was so hot and miserable and so steeped in hating my body because my painful knees were betraying me that my internal monologue was a never ending loop of “I’ll hit weight watchers REALLY HARD when we get home and get rid of this weight, then I’ll figure out my knees and work on maintenance” Let me say that again, clearly.  I struggled to enjoy my vacation because I was obsessing about restricting food AFTER my vacation. One last time.  One last meal.

BULLSHIT.

We walked by shops with weird and pretty fashion dresses. (I freely admit I don’t understand fashion) the husband and I would both point out ones we thought were pretty.  My brain would get stuck on “Yeah, but they don’t make them in my size” or “Yeah, that would NOT look good on me.  It looks fine on that size 0 mannequin”  Pretty on other people.  Other people are pretty.  Not me. Diet culture is pervasive and all consuming.  In big ways and little ways.  I’m 5 ft 9.  I’m not a tiny person at any weight.  I’ve always been told I’m too big.  Even when I sit, I slouch a little and/or tuck my legs and feet up under me to try to make myself appear smaller and less invasive.  This is subconscious.  I don’t always realize I’m doing it until my knees remind me. Most of my life has been things that get in the way of my diets.  “I should start the diet today, but it’ll have to wait until next week because so and so’s birthday is this week and I want to be able to enjoy that.”  or “It’s late fall, I should just start now but first there’s my birthday, and then Thanksgiving, and December happens and there’s all kinds of treats then.  Better wait until January, but not the first because that’s new year’s...maybe the following Monday.” or the ever popular “I already had a bad eating day today, I’m a failure.  Why bother?  Fuck it.  I’ll try again tomorrow.”  That one was always followed by binging because of the last supper mentality.  If I’m starting a diet tomorrow I better eat EVERYTHING NOW. This is how I’ve lived my whole life.  The time not spent dieting was just the time in between diets where I was planning my next diet.  So much life wasted.  The only time I was not actively dieting or planning the next diet or suffering from “I’m just too exhausting to put effort into food right now” was during my 4 pregnancies.  I let myself eat whatever and whenever because I was nauseous all the time anyway and something in my brain made me fuel my body for the babies. When the youngest was born and the on call doctor who delivered her told me I was too fat to have my tubes tied I definitely started planning diets again in that moment.  I believe now, years later, that my diet and diet culture ruined mind and body is part of what kept me from being as successful at nursing the kids as I wished I had been.  I assumed my body was broken and not good enough for my babies.  The last time I lost a LOT of weight it was because I didn’t want to ruin someone’s wedding pictures.  True story.  This was nothing that person felt or anything they told me.  IT’s what my brain said to me.  It’s how I de-valued myself.  There are very few current pictures of me now because I’ve been stuck in a place where I feel shame when I see them. When I’m dead, memories and pictures are all my kids and grandkids will have, and I hate myself too much to let anyone take them. That’s not okay.

I dream about food.  I daydream about food.  Food I “shouldn’t” eat.  Food I “should” eat.  When to eat.  When not to eat.  Every spare ounce of energy is spent thinking about food or hating myself which leads to more thinking about food. I am not in a place where I can prepare dinner for my family right now because it’s too hard to put that much energy into food.  I force myself to pick the recipes from the app and get the shopping done via instacart so all anyone else has to do is pull up the recipe and make the food.  If I’m looking at the ingredients or trying to prep anything I stare at every individual thing debating whether or not I “should” eat it.  This is going to take me a long time to break free from.  Today I finally feel like I CAN break free. There is nothing wrong with being in a large body or a small body.  Food is not good or bad.  Food is food.  I have to say these things.  I have to repeat them to myself or I fall down the rabbit hole again.  None of this is work anyone can do for me.  I have to live it.  I have to work through it.  I have to figure it out. If you read this far, my statement stands.  If you’re on a diet, I will listen to your woes and hold your hand and I will not judge you for it.  This was very hard to write because I am certain some of you who believe in diets, ways of life, and wellness eating may block me now because I spoke my mind.  I’ve clung so tight to the people I love and refrained from being honest and speaking my mind for fear of abandonment.  I’ll have to live with it if that’s the case here, because people sometimes need to do what’s best for them.  Airing this out is one of those things for me.  It’s a scary thing for sure. I also want to say that I’m happy for this to lead to discussion.  I’m not going to shut anyone down for wanting to talk to me about this.  I am always open to learn new information and see different perspectives.  Just know that if I’m emotional and feeling a lot of strong things about how my life has been up to this point, and I am entitled to believe what I believe just as you all are.  I’m happy to share sources and books I’ve been reading on the subject.  They are not diet books.

Here’s to doing better from here on out.

Here’s to finally being free.

[etherealluminescence]

the brothers + the former undateables finding out buff cat has kittens that are visiting devildom, but unfortunately buff kittens are extremely chaotic little shits, mc + diavolo + barbatos + simeon + satan doesn't believe anyone when they say "I'm convinced they're pure evil and they bite" "no they baby"

buff cat Buff Cat BUFF CAT BUFFCATBUFFCA-

I was really excited to write this. I LOVE Buff Cat. This is just making me grin while thinking of writing it. Aaaaa I mean I couldn’t just not draw it either,, aha? ;)

This also works for Belphie and Luke, but I think Mammon sees the most of the cats because he likes MC and visits them, but is TERRIFIED. More buff cat memes at the bottom. Also warning very long.

Brothers and New Datables reaction to Buff Cat’s kittens!

Lucifer

As soon as MC left the kittens and him alone, chaos ensued. Within minutes, one of the kittens successful spat out a hairball on him, and another was about to break his desk. The third was on his bookshelf, biting the spine of his books.

He didn’t want to raise his voice at kittens, but he swore they were trying to antagonise him on purpose. Normal kittens do not act like this.

As soon as he caught one coating his paperwork in their saliva, he began to shout. This only backfired, as they truly did plan to beat the shit out of him.

He knew he couldn’t retaliate, or MC would be mad, and so would Diavolo. Also, he’s pretty sure that their dad would beat him up.

The kittens clawed up his shirt, broke his desk, ruined his paperwork, books, pens, and made him bleed. He tried his very best to put them in corners without hurting them, but they acted as though they were high on katnip and are professional murderers.

Needless to say, as soon as MC returned he was breathless and a mess. MC didn’t even notice, and told him thanks for playing with the kittens!! He was about to tell MC to keep their kittens on a leash when MC just said they’re so energetic at this age.

Energetic?? You mean that’s ENERGETIC? Not MURDEROUS INTENT?

Never wants to be near another buff kitten. What on earth happens during their adulthood that changes them from a chaotic shit to this otherworldly entity.

Mammon

Mammon was screeching for hours. Literally screaming they were out for his flesh, and can smell his fear.

They bit his ankles and even with the blood seeping from it, neither you or Satan believed the buff kittens did it.

You both laughed it off as him getting hurt, and went to take care of the kittens.

He swears they’re trying to kill him and sacrifice his very soul.

Also he’s never stealing from Diavolo again after they started staying there, and even began protecting the place.

Leviathan

He was fine with Buff Cat, so why not the kittens? They looked so well behaved like MC, so why not offer to look after them for a little bit, while everyone was at school? He doesn’t go in person so he doesn’t mind.

Ah what a big mistake that was.

These kittens are trying to break into his aquarium; quite literally. They just attempted to headbutt the glass and made running starts repeatedly, hoping it would crack.

As soon as he got them to stop doing that, they began to knaw at his wires, which he had to stop. When he got a headcount, there were only two, so where was the third?

SHIT! HIS RURI CHAN FIGURINES!

The third one was now biting off one of his limited addition Ruri chan’s arms, and Levi was getting pissed. He wasn’t sure what he’d tell MC, but he was ready to kick them out of his room.

He remembered buff cat, his good buddy, and tried to just watch over them a little longer. They were his kids, so he could just do him one favour.

Levi was screaming in regret when all his manga was ripped to shreds. All. Of. It. Nothing was spared, and Levi was ready to kick them out for real.

Until MC and Buff cat came in to take the kittens. Levi was going to scream out his frustrations, but just as he said “your”, a kitten bit his ankle causing him to silently scream and fall to the ground.

Concerned, you both ran up to him and tried to help him up, wondering what happened. One kitten however, walked behind you and put a paw to his neck and sliced. Afterwards, he did the I’m watching you motion.

Scared enough to almost piss his pants, Levi kept his mouth shut on the experience he had today, and probably tommorrow. After all, since it went so well he wouldn’t mind watching them this week while everyone attended classes, right?

Satan

Wherearethebabieswherewherewhere

He was so excited, and constantly babied them. He had all the cat toys, the best cat food, and became a sort of servant for them.

With just a meow or point he’d be off to get them whatever they wanted. Even if they bit his books or stole his clothes, he’d just go aweee!! They’re learning how to use their bodies as they grow.

Originally opposed to Diavolo keeping them, as he wanted them, but the royals was a much better choice for three growing kittens.

Constantly showers them with affection and tries to baby talk them. It sounds kind of creepy.

When his brothers try to bully or blame the kittens for something the kittens obviously did, he lectures and berates them on cat development and why they shouldn’t hurt their feelings.

Asmodeous

Screaming out of fear and anger. Asmo found the three kittens in the mess of his clothes in his room.

They were all ripping and shredding at his clothes, and when they noticed him proceeded to bite and scratch as his hair, attempting to rip it out.

He was screaming like he was being murdered, and running around the room for five minutes. Every time he tried to exit, one would block the door.

Sensing that their MC was coming, the three behaved and snuggled up to him, meowing and purring as if they were content.

When MC entered, they noticed the scene before them and smiled!! How cute!! The kittens were snuggling against Asmo.

Asmo was shrieking and explaining to you what had happened, and your kittens pretended to act asleep.

Upset by him framing them, you gave him an earful that if he ripped up his own clothes on accident, he shouldn’t blame the kittens!

To think Asmo was so irresponsible.

Beelzebub

He figured since Buff cat worked out, and these were his children, who were absolutely buff, they’d work out too right?

Oh yeah. They worked out how to absolutely destroy the entire gym in a matter of minutes.

They aggressively beat up every gym go-er and threw dumbbells everywhere. They wrecked the treadmills and other machines, and bit off the wires for the electrical side.

Within minutes, Beel and the kittens were kicked to the curve, and banned for life. The injured staff and people were taken care of by Lucifer’s credit card. He 100% believed the buff cats did it, but neither you or Satan did.

It was kind of frustrating how you taught demons randomly burst into pain or that possibly Beel did it, but he understood you wanted to protect the kittens.

He understood they were still young and energetic, so they weren’t as peaceful. He’s aware they’re chaotic and will not deny it, but he still takes care of them as occasionally let’s them teeth on his fingers, so they can grow strong, since he knows they’re just playing.

Belphegor

no No NO.

He does not want to be near the buff kittens. He’s barely able to approach Buff Cat, but buff kittens? No way.

These buff kittens terrify him more than buff cat, and that’s saying something. There are three chaotic pieces of shits running around, biting ankles and trying to claw at everything.

He runs to the attic, unless the buff kittens are there. If they are, he runs off into the unknown.

Diavolo

He was the one who approved of them visiting. As soon as he heard buff cat actually had kittens, he wanted to meet them. With Barbatos agreeing, Lucifer lost the battle.

Was so happy to have them. Had Barbatos prepare everything, and even spent a whole lot of money on jewelled collars and adorable outfits!

He let them have the best milk in devildom, and even allowed them to rest in his room during their stay. It was even better because Diavolo was recently asking Satan for cat recommendations, as he felt like having a cat to pet while working would be nice.

This is based off a chat. ^^.

You all, the five, agree that it’d be a fun idea for them to stay in the devildom, and they’d be close to buff cat too, it’s a win win. They could stay with the royals, while HOL has Buff Cat. Simeon couldn’t take any since Luke was terrified.

Diavolo 100% babied them, even more than you. Some say he looks big and a bit scarily buff, but he now posts on his devilgram pictures of him and the kittens, which has actually helped his approachable image.

Cat papi.

Barbatos

He was on board with the idea of meeting new baby buff cats. He does pretty well with kids, and wouldn’t mind seeing the babies of such a sophisticated cat.

He was delightedly when MC handed them to him, and told him they’d be gone for a bit. He properly fed them, changed their clothes, pet them, give them attention, and even told them stories of MC.

The kittens were constantly entertained, and purred in delight every time he approached them. They seemed patient and cute, but according to the other staff they were worse than actual demons.

Apparently they were the ones who broke the stuff in the hallway, and managed to get a password to a secret room and broke everything in it. Luckily for the kittens, Barbatos didn’t believe it.

I mean, how could three kittens that seem desperate for love that just want some warmth act so devilishly?

Happy to report to MC that nothing came up. Even if he did catch them in the act, it wouldn’t matter. He would think they’re just being a little playful or energetic.

Very delighted that they catch mice, and now that they live here he has three strong cats to protect his kitchen and the prince.

Solomon

This is great!! Now he knows that buff cats breed, can he dissect them?

He was attempting to catch one while the three were there, but these chaotic brats would not sit still. They were jumping from couch to shelves, knocking over all sorts of things.

When he finally got them in his room, they began knocking over all his potions and books, and even began to bite back. They hissed and smacked him with their tails, body slammed him, and tried to claw his eyes out.

He figured feeding them would calm them down, but they ended up breaking his plates as soon as they saw him attempt to cook, these kittens have good intuition.

They proceeded to break everything in the kitchen, and when you came in to check on the noise with Simeon, you saw your three little kittens covered in flour, and Solomon with a defeated look.

Solomon tried to explain, but he got lectured for trying to dissect your babies. You even yelled at him for making them so scared that they tried their hardest to escape him, and almost got hurt because of it.

10/10 thinks those things are little shits.

Simeon

He loves them!! He’s probably good with human children, but with buff kittens he’s amazingly good as well!!

The kittens were well behaved and allowed him to pet them, and curled up as he read them stories!!

He gives them their bottles of milk,, he makes sure they’re warm,, and he babies them!! Because they’re baby.

He gave off great dad energy, and even invited Luke or Solomon to play with them. Luke suddenly had to visit the grocery store and Solomon for some reason was nowhere to be found.

Simeon would love to babysit them again, and even asked if they would come over more often! He and Buff Cat will also share stories of the kittens from now on, because they’re so cute.

Luke

No.

He is not going NEAR them. If he’s terrified of buff cat as is, what makes you think he’s not going to be terrified of buff kittens?

The second he sees one of them act mischievously, he’s screaming for Simeon. However, he just watches Simeon laugh it off.

He’s going to stay in his room until those demon spawns disappear.

+ MC

You were so so happy. Buff Cat’s little kittens were visiting you in the devildom, and you were ecstatic.

When you saw the kittens, you cuddled each of them for twenty minutes straight. You peppered them with kisses and gave them tummy rubs.

The brothers watched in shock, and were slightly envious that you were cuddling the kittens.

You got up to stretch, and as soon as you did they ran around and tried to bite everyone in the vicinity, and after you sat back down, they curled up to you like nothing happened.

Luke was in the corner shaking from how he just witnessed a kitten attempt to bite off Asmo’s eyelash.

Everyone except the baby bunch suddenly felt chills up their backs. It was not going to be a good week.

——————-

Here’s some memes! I think it’d be pretty funny and great on the lore if the royals actually took in the buff kittens, and began to care for them. The cats are as chaotic as Diavolo, so Diavolo would probably take fault and say he must of influenced the cuties, who are just replicating what they see like babies do. Luke, Mammon, and Belphie will never visit again. The kittens will also protect the jewels.

[honestlyfrance]

In The Hangar

ship: sam/bucky

warning: hurt/comfort, angst

summary:

There were more instances like these when their body proximity was bordering on questioning and head-butting, legs flying and swinging, face scrutinized, with a light sheen of sweat decorating their bare skin, clothes soaked in bodily fluids, and Wilson swore his lip throbbed at a sudden numbness but damn Barnes looked damn good looking at him like that and it’s getting hard to breathe when they’ve been doing this for— What? Two hours?

or

Sam and Bucky give each other what they need.

—■—■—

There’s an empty gym in the Avengers compound that stood in its lonesome on the vast field of a property this non-profit organization owns—it stood at a great height you wouldn’t be able to see the beams, and even then the wide skylight is lighting up the uneven floor; the hanging lights doubles as trapeze and the beams above was an obstacle course on its own; enough of that, the first uneven floor was full of weights, the second uneven floor was a treadmill course designed by the Avengers members to their weaknesses, and the third uneven floor was all mat and nothing else; the only entrance was the double doors ( if you call the skylight an exit, you’re a flyer ) and the east wing was a climbing wall full with different sized rocks and incredulous edges and turns, and the opposite wall was floor to ceiling mirror windows, showing the expanse and great distance of the field from the Avengers house. In all of this space you’d think it would be the most used, but no—the Avengers never dared to take it away from the few who sported in it, and even then the ones who do never really exercise or train much. 

These people’s definition of exercise and train were different from the rest of them.

Steve Rogers’s definition was: to eat as much as his metabolism is and to take on the punching bag as if he were to wake up and couldn’t go back to sleep.

Natasha Romanoff’s idea of train and exercise was: to read, a lot, especially people; there’s this certain tree in the woods where one would bring their rifle or handgun and fired at the same spot over and over again in different angles, distances, and positions until it has cleaned out a hole in the trunk. 

Bucky Barnes’s definition was scrutinized, nonetheless: to rest one’s mind, meaning, slack off as one can until someone asks to spar with you—only then one is exercised right after.

Sam Wilson’s definition: to run the distance between these distances at four in the morning for an hour, then to lift weights and bench press against an ungodly height on the climbing wall. 

Wilson’s definition seems more like training and exercise than three super-soldiers, and they have the right to question the only people who frequent the far away gym. Tony Stark has always wanted to create that space into some other useful thing, but even then, everyone agreed it was fun to bet on who would pin who first: Natasha or Barnes? Rogers isn’t happy with the fact they don’t bet on him, but there was a time that Rogers and Barnes sparred and Rogers barely even hit him ( Barnes annoyed him so much that Rogers cussed him out ). Wilson is still no-nonsense with his training, and Natasha spars with him; Stark doesn’t want to ruin Natasha’s fun. 

Two years later, Wilson’s sparring partner is leaving for some bullshitted vacation; Natasha sat him down and told him, “—I’ve accumulated so many vacation days that Tony won’t stop pestering me. I’ll be gone for five years at the most. Don’t miss me too much.“ 

"This about which?” Wilson had asked, his voice was so low and soft that Natasha almost backed away. They were in her room, only trusting Wilson to enter it unprompted with a few quiet people who wouldn’t take her trust as points. 

Natasha deadpanned. “I don’t know how to say it so gently." 

"I’m not going anywhere. Although, I have this thing later seven with Scott, so—you’ve got the whole dawn and afternoon with me." 

Covers my ass, Wilson cussed in his head as he stroked another kick to the punching bag enveloped in red energy being emitted by Wanda Maximoff who sat by the side, watching him with intent eyes. She hasn’t even told me her real last name.

"Romanova. It’s pretty obvious,” Wanda said, snapping Wilson to a complete stop. “Natasha is a diminutive of Natalia…” Wilson threw a strong punch and it made the punching bag fly at a high radius, making him turn around and lie down beside her as they waited for it to settle back down— again. “… or Natalie. I don’t know. It’s just basic Russian names.”

The double doors cracked open and made a sickening creak as it closed. Wilson and Wanda snapped to the doors to reveal Barnes jogging into the room with a duffel bag of his own, setting it on the few benches beside Wilson’s bag. Barnes nodded at them and gave them a small “Hey, Wanda. Sam.” and proceeded to scale the climbing wall without a harness, aiming to reach the harness Scott Lang left hanging in the air ( He shrunk himself mid-air and wanted to prove something to Rhodey ). Barnes wore a shirt and sweatpants, his hair cut short previously.

Things have changed since Natasha left the compound three months ago. 

Wilson sighed as he caught Wanda giving him a look, and no sooner had he heard in his head her voice: Him. 

Wilson swatted at her as he stood up. “Cooperate with me, Wanda.” He said as he began punching the sides of the punching bag, occasionally glancing at Barnes with Wanda; Barnes was halfway, and he’s breathing heavily as he rested there. 

“I don’t spar, Sam,” Wanda shoots him a look. “I do…” and she moves her hand to create a ball of power, striking to the punching bag to strike Wilson as hard as she could throw him across the room.

Wilson saw it and kicked it, immediately slowing it down—Another punch shook the chains and the punching bag began to slowly swing on its axis; left, right! He threw punches, then a left kick just to see it shake once more. Wanda wasn’t helping. 

Wanda scoffed. “I’m helping. I just don’t spar, and even then, I only know the basic punching and kicking." 

Wilson snickered as he caught the punching bag, holding it by its side as he swayed. "If that’s the only thing to know, you’re gonna meet your end punching and kicking." 

Wanda shrugged, smirking. "Good thing I have powers, huh? You only fly. ”

From across the room, Barnes cleared his throat to get their attention. Wanda and Wilson watched Barnes dangle from a height, the harness around the man’s waist and across his chest and hips, his feet locked down on two rocks as his body flipped over, his arms out in the open. Barnes said, “He’s also an expert in knife combat. Expect that bitch to enter a gunfight with a knife and leave with a gun.”

Wanda hummed in approval, nodding at Wilson. “Hey, that reminds me.”

Fucking ask him out, or I will. He smothers Natasha, just imagine him with you. Wanda’s voice echoed in Wilson’s head, urging him to groan as he cleared all thoughts from his head. I’ll ask him to be your sparring partner. 

The mental image of Barnes spinning Wilson down on the mat was enough to make Wanda laugh, her ringing delight echoing off the walls; the mental image in Wilson’s head was then distorted by Wanda, forcing Wilson to imagine Barnes and him, sweaty and panting in a silent and empty Gym at the middle of the night, moonlight streaming in, and Barnes mouths something like I—

Wilson screamed, “Fuck!” He hit the punching bag with all his might and watching the slow return of the dummy was already pushing right on the edge. Huffing in defeat, cursing under his breath, he turned around and watched Barnes hang at the top, Barnes’s forehead against the wall as he was now in a tight slant above him. 

Only one person knew that Wilson had this thing with Barnes, and of course it was going to be the one who can manipulate and read minds; Wanda made sure not to tell a soul, and she was successful at it, and she’s been an angel for him ever since Natasha left the compound. 

Watching Barnes then became a routine for Wilson and Wanda. Every day, Wilson and Wanda came over to the Gym to throw a few punches on “Ol Reliable Dummy” as Rogers affectionately called the lone punching bag on the third uneven floor, and Barnes, without fail, would come in after lunch to hang around on the climbing wall, standing on the wall as if he was Spider-Man, and Wilson would just stop and watch him, Wanda being the angel she is produced the mimicking the sound punches on leather so Barnes wouldn’t turn around. Even when the two did call out to Barnes, Barnes wouldn’t look back; he would just hang around, eyes closed, lips parted, and feel as if one were just floating in a pool. 

It was one chilly morning, before the break of dawn, that something changed in their routine.

Wilson was in his shorts and a sweater, jogging up and down the stairs as fast and quietly as he could; this was his usual warm-up exercise, yet he woke up earlier than usual, for the clocks read a quarter to three, and his drowsiness left him as soon as he read the time. There was no use to coming back to bed, but it will soon give him time to take that fifty-minute shower he always wanted to have after his training. 

After ten rounds on the stairs, he patted his sweat away with a towel, and with a water bottle in his hand ( the one he used to bring on late-night missions as the Falcon; the one in his room), the lights in the hallway began to light up the darkness of the floor. There was a whisper as if a female, saying: “Good morning, Captain Falcon,” and Wilson entered the elevator that would bring him a floor down, then he would take another hallway that leads to another building; the bridge was three floors high and lead to the labs.

Wilson tapped on the glass as he walked down the hallway, the lights automatically reacting to his body movement. “Morning Tony, Bruce, What time did you wake up this time?” He said, eyeing the two who were in their barest sleepwear, tinkering around on a table. He slowed down his pace to watch them for a moment.

“Just woke up,” Stark said, glancing up before putting on his goggles. “two hours ago maybe. You missed Bruce’s mess— It was amazing.”

Bruce Banner only groaned as he moved to another table where papers were spread about. Wilson nodded, humming. 

Wilson slowed to a jog as the automatic doors then led him to a barren hangar. He jogged down the winding staircase as he ran the expanse of the hangar as he waited for F.R.I.D.A.Y. to open up the grate, and he took a moment to breathe as it was halfway, watching the moonlight enter the dim area. He walked over outside and stood where the concrete and grass met, pulling his leg behind him as he said, “What time is it?" 

"Three-hundred, sir." 

"Shit, I’ve got time." 

He placed his water bottle down and started jogging towards the faraway gym that was on the horizon. F.R.I.D.A.Y. lit up the lights in the gym as well as the sprinklers around the area, and some more lights in the distance. He made sure to track his breathing, and to take slow breaths as he jogged at an easy pace, and before he knew it, he was on his third round.

As the open hangar was behind him at a far distant, Wilson yelled a series of profanities as he closed his eyes, heaving as he let the weight of stress relieve off him. Taking up the mantle of Captain America, in a world where Captain America was targeted by the government, was a painful experience that rejected everything Wilson thought was over for him. He had to listen to authority? Damn, sure, if it means regaining Steve Rogers’s name and image. He had to entertain press now? Alright, if it means gaining positive attention towards the Avengers. He had to limit his flying out of all things? Okay, if that means he can choose who could be on his team. It was difficult to say, and Wilson kept yelling as he ran now towards the gym, reaching it within seconds.

Wilson paced for a bit with his head in between his hands before kicking the dirt, all the rage pouring out on him in a series of actions. He then begins to spar some imaginary figure, twisting and turning as he threw a series of kicks and intricate knife handling. There was a moment he pulled out his four-inch knife out of his thigh holster and proceeding to maim the air, flipping and throwing it around, slicing and attacking whatever pressure he had on his shoulders. 

He lied down on the dewy grass as the image of sparring with someone popped in his head with a recognizable face—it was Natasha, sue him; she was the one who taught him the additional knife techniques he’s accumulated, as well as the martial arts and taekwondo she urged to teach him. Trust me. You need it. Ah, he could still hear her cocky voice.

He then started his journey back to the hangar, committed on continuing his one-hour jogging in the field, but when the sight of the hangar came to view, with the lights inside bright with an orange tinge, and the sound of classical music bellowing and echoing within, Sam slowed down to a walk as his eyebrows knitted in confusion. 

No one used that hangar, as far as he was concerned. If anything, it was just an excuse for the mechanics to have their lab on the second floor where they can see the expanse of the field and horizon. When he came closer, there was a small speaker in the middle of the room, and there was the music coming from. Sam barely approached it, stopping below the grate as his head jerked towards the doorway above the staircase. 

Barnes stopped before a moment, his eyes widening at the sight of the man on the ground, not recognizing him at first but gaping once Barnes recalled Stark and Banner’s warning. "It’s you,” Barnes said.

Wilson was about to yell how he was the one with the rights to use the hangar, seeing that no one was using it, but now he remembers the unusual routine he fell upon. He didn’t usually wave at Stark and Banner, it was usually waving at two giant ants who roamed around the Lang Laboratory as guards—

“Shit. I took the wrong hallway,” Wilson groaned as he turned away from Barnes, massaging his temple. 

Barnes barked out laughter, his steps echoing in the barren vastness as he walked down the stairs, two mugs in his hands. “Yeah, well good thing Stark warned me, or else I wouldn’t have brought you your coffee. I know how much you hate to miss it on the counter,” he said, walking briskly towards the man as he, too, began to walk towards him until they were now in the middle of the hangar. “so… I, uh, brought it here.”

“What are you doing here?” Wilson asked, taking the mug off his hands.

Barnes shrugged. “I don’t know, I usually stargaze but you’re on my path.”

It made sense now. The faraway lights, making Wilson wonder why it was darker than usual, and the sprinklers being the only sound in the night, it was perfect for stargazing. Wilson shifted his weight as he sipped his coffee, eyes settling Barnes with a raised eyebrow.

Barnes stuttered for a moment. “Um, I-I, also, I, uh, sometimes…” he raised an eyebrow, “dance?” his eyebrows furrowed as if he was confused by his own words. “with Tasha? But, she’s been gone, so, I just entertain myself with climbing, you know." 

Wilson raised his eyebrows, lowering his mug. "I didn’t know you two knew how to dance. What do you do? Ballet? She said she used to dance.”

“Yes, yes,” Barnes chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “It was all we knew… since, um,” he lowered his gaze towards the ground, but Wilson still saw his faraway gaze. “Well, anyway, she’s left, and with that my partner." 

"Sucks, right? She used to train with me and now I got an idle punching bag who doesn’t know how to miss a kick,” Wilson snorted, and Barnes was much more relaxed after that. 

“Sucks, yeah. She was the one who usually led, and sometimes she’d bring in training— punching and kicking me as I try to miss— She’s really…" 

"Caring,” Wilson shrugged, finishing Barnes’s sentence for him. “One could say she’s unnecessary, but really, her lessons saved me on missions.”

“My lessons,” Barnes whispered, but it echoed in the hangar. “I taught her before…”

Wilson nodded, understanding full well where that came from. Wilson took a step back after realizing he knew more of Barnes than the woman Wilson knew more than five years; it was only a year from where they stood, and Wilson felt like screaming. 

“You know a lot about knife handling, hmm,” Wilson murmured, but the proximity between them allowed them to hear the other loud and clear. “Can you teach a few tricks?”

Barnes glanced at Wilson’s eyes and saw the glint, straightening his posture as he looked him in the eye. “You flexible? My partners usually are, and that’s best to work with.”

Wilson nodded, cracking a grin. “Don’t underestimate me, James, I took up ballet too when I was young,” he moved aside and set his mug beside the speaker before crossing his ankles and spread his arms.

Barnes scoffed, turning around with a smile that made Wilson’s eyes glint. “Oh, is that so? I gotta bring you to size then—” he made his way towards Wilson, placing his foot firmly into place as the other gently pointed itself to the ground; Barnes held Wilson’s hand in his as he wormed his arm around his waist, smirking. “—I’m a great dancer before HYDRA taught me ballet, I used to dance every night or so, with a date or two or such." 

Wilson hummed, gazing into Barnes’s blue eyes, in search of something. "You have a knife on you?" 

Barnes winked. "Didn’t see my belt, I see?”

“A belt? I thought you’d have a thigh holster.”

“A holster? You— I— How’d you hide a thigh holster on you?”

Wilson kicked Barnes in the balls and twisted the arm he held behind the man’s back, pushing him down by the shoulder with a foot, flipping out his knife and bringing it to his neck, Barnes still recovering from doubling over. 

“Like this, baby,” Wilson mocked. 

Barnes kicked Wilson from behind, pulling out his knife from his body; Wilson saw it but was distracted. Barnes stood up and kicked Wilson in his side, throwing him over and making him land on his bottom as he slid, his knife leaving his person.

Wilson grunted as he caught himself, looking up at Barnes with a menacing grin; Barnes crossed his ankles and bowed. “Finally, someone who doesn’t hold back,” he said. 

Barnes licked his lips. “You still have to dance with me, αγαπώ,” and there was a chill running down Wilson’s spine as he heard Love form from Barnes’s raspy voice.

“Let’s dance, Soldat.”

The two waited for the music, holding each other’s hand and a hand on the waist and shoulder, feet in a firm position, bodies aching to pin the other one down. 

“What time is it.”

“Shut up, Sam, and dance.”

Barnes threw a punch at Wilson’s abdomen, doubling him over; Barnes pulled out his knife only for Wilson to block it with two hands, then kicking him in his inner thigh, turning to kick him once more. A flash of punching and kicking commenced between them, both laughing and grinning at the other’s baffling speed and agility.

There was a point when Barnes twisted a leg to kick Wilson only for him to use it to support himself as he climbed on Wilson’s shoulders, making the man drop to the floor due to the weight; Barnes then took the opportunity to take the other man’s knife, turning on his back so Wilson’s head rested on his stomach, his right leg hooked under Wilson’s chin to choke him; Wilson only hit the leg several times until he patted abruptly, declaring Barnes the winner. 

Wilson also liked to confuse Barnes, knowing full well the man analyzes past combat sequences to execute the proper routine, Wilson charged at Barnes, shielding himself as Rogers does, then Barnes would mistakenly throw a metal punch, only for Wilson to catch his fist, twist it, knee t upward which would revibrate a satisfying riiiiing; Barnes who is still washed with worry and concern over Wilson would be caught off guard to Wilson’s sudden elbow at the face, the chest, and the abdomen, successfully disabling Barnes as he left the heaving man dropped lazily on the fall with a bewildered look. Barnes would say something under his breath before being helped up by Wilson, and they’d pose as if nothing had happened. 

There were more instances like these when their body proximity was bordering on questioning and head-butting, legs flying and swinging, face scrutinized, with a light sheen of sweat decorating their bare skin, clothes soaked in bodily fluids, and Wilson swore his lip throbbed at a sudden numbness but damn Barnes looked damn good looking at him like that and it’s getting hard to breathe when they’ve been doing this for— What? Two hours?

Barnes swung two opposite punches to Wilson who shielded himself as he took steps back; Wilson crouched and swung a leg at Barnes who jumped over it and kneed the other in the right abdomen; Wilson doubled over and Barnes took hold of his neck and gripped it there, bringing their faces close— One showed a subtle face gleaming with victory and worry while the other grunted and spat the other in the face. Barnes loosened his grip on Wilson and wiped his face.

“Aw, man, c’mon,” Barnes spoke; Wilson upper-punched him in the stomach, pulled on his flesh arm, pinned him down to lie on their stomachs, Wilson flattened on Barnes’s back and the other made no move to fight back.

“What, sleepy-head,” Wilson heaved as he caught sight of Barnes sly grin tugging at the corner of his flushed lips. “What’s so funny? Your pain, or your shame?”

Barnes took a moment to soak up Wilson’s weight, to look the other in the eyes and let themselves relax at the moment that they lead themselves into, saying: “What can’t you do? You’re impossibly unstoppable, Cap, look at you—”

Wilson immediately stood up, taking a few steps away as he set his hands on his waist. “No. Let’s go— You tired? We can take a break, jackass,” he crossed his foot behind the other anyway, his chin raised high as his eyes scanned the ceiling of the hangar. There were faint crickets in the background, and the music leveled down and seemed to finally stabilize in his ears; the sky was still dark however, and Wilson’s mind seemed to calm down. “Come on—” Wilson spread his arms with palms raised to the sky, his eyes clenched closed, trying to relax his nerves. “—Take me.”

Wilson didn’t feel Barnes’s person in the room, and he almost let himself resign in the fact that the other would eventually leave him.

Barnes’s body was pressed against Wilson’s, taking the Falcon’s hands in his own, and bringing them close to his chest. Wilson shakily exhaled all the stress of the previous months before exiting his body little by little, his body frigid and cold like a stone, eyes refusing to open in fear of seeing something he wouldn’t like. Or wouldn’t like to believe it was real. Barnes was not a vocal person, so when Barnes had spread their arms once again, turning Wilson gracefully to face each other, their faces barely centimeters away, Wilson knew that the air between them spoke enough of what was needed to be said.

Barnes pulled Wilson close and closed the proximity between their chests, left hands intertwined and the right tightly around the other’s waist, doing everything so wrong but it felt right at the moment; they didn’t dance entirely, neither one swaying to the soft melody of a piano, a violin the background maybe, they couldn’t decide, nor could they decide to listen fervently to the noise of the night.

“Sam.”

Wilson had his eyes opened, dry and tearing at how long he stared at the floor behind Barnes; he blinked several times, getting his senses back together. “I’m here,” he whispered.

“Okay.”

They let their muscles relax for a moment, their hearts as well, in the arms of the other. They could do it the next morning; they have the rest of their lives to dance and be together. 

[mushyjellybeans]

Can’t Help Falling In Love

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Enemies turned to friends. Friends turned to lovers as a misunderstanding brings the two people who hated each other together. 

Warnings: Angst, Language, Bucky is a jerk and a bit of a bully sorry, fluff, implied smut.

Word Count: 3,466 (uhhh oops? Like seriously before I edited this it was at 1.5k LOL)

A/N: Nobody asked for this but I was in an angst/fluffy mood and I love these enemies to lovers AU’s so... I haven’t posted much in a while so this is my apology!! I have lots of requests to get through though and they are NEXT! This almost had smut but wasn’t in the mood to write it :( maybe for part 2?

Masterlist

You honestly couldn't fathom the real reason why James Barnes hated you so damn much. You didn't even need to speak for him to become pissed off at you, your presence was enough.

You've tried being nice, and you've tried asking Steve why his friend was such a jerk with you when he was lovely and kind to Wanda and even Natasha. "He doesn't hate you, Y/N. You're overreacting." Is was the only explanation you would receive.

It was Stark's weekly movie night, and for the first time in a long time, you were actually excited to sit down and relax with your friends. 

Walking in the common room with a bowl of caramel popcorn in your hand, you realized there were no free seats. Wanda and Vision occupied one couch, Nat and Bruce were snuggled on the loveseat, Tony was relaxing in his very expensive massage recliner chair. Steve was out at a bar with Sam and you were disappointed Bucky didn't go with them, bringing you to your current predicament. Either you could sit on the uncomfortable floor for a few hours, or suck it up and sit next to Barnes. The latter seemed more plausible. When Bucky saw you from his peripheral, he immediately kicked his legs up longways on the couch and you huffed, tempted to throw the damn popcorn at him and smash a vase over his head at the same time. He was making it difficult for you and you didn't understand why. 

"Can I sit, please?" You rolled your eyes to the ceiling. 

"No." He responded, his gaze fixated on the title screen on the TV.

"Fine." You exhaled as you sauntered towards him and sat on his legs. He hissed out in pain as your weight crushed his bones and for a moment you were happy you hurt him. 

Good, he deserved it! You beamed. 

When he realized neither of you was planning on leaving anytime soon, he retracted his legs and you bounced on the cushion underneath. 

For the rest of the night, Bucky didn't utter a word to you but you could sense he was beaming holes into the side of your face every once in a while. You ended up going to bed at midnight. 

You woke up later than usual and threw on some yoga pants and a tank top, making your way down to the kitchen where the rest of the team were already sat down at the dinner table eating their breakfast.

Bucky was making coffee in the kitchen when you walked in, and for a moment you considered leaving since it was just the two of you. He scowled in your direction and you rolled your eyes and walked to the pantry.

"Keep rollin' your eyes, they'll get stuck up in your brain." He sneered.

"Good morning to you too, James." You mumbled. As usual, he ignored your greeting. And then Natasha walked in grabbing a mug from the cabinet and pouring some hot black coffee.

"Good morning Nat. You look absolutely gorgeous today!" Bucky smiled. You watched their interaction carefully. Natasha greeted him back and you felt a pang of hurt in your chest. You sheepishly poured your cereal in a bowl and added some milk, you were about to take a seat on the barstool when Bucky grumbled.

"You're seriously eating here? I'm here and there's a fucking empty chair at the dining table, take your cereal and go and eat there!" He spat angrily.

"Buck she's entitled to eat here." Nat intervened, sick of his attitude towards you.

"No, she isn't!" You tried not to take his words so personally, you really did. Your lips quivered as a sob threatened to break out. You covered your mouth with your hand, your appetite quenched by his hateful words and bitterness. You sprinted on out of there, ignoring the concerned calls from the team.

You headed back to the only place you knew you were safe from Bucky, your room. You dropped face-first on your bed and screamed into your pillow. You ordinarily wouldn't let his words hurt you, and if he was being honest he was expecting you to fight back with your usual sarcasm or your typical eye roll you loved to give him so much. He didn't anticipate you just skipping breakfast and leaving.  

But you've just given up, accepted the fact he hates you and you're done trying, you're done with this job.

You question your role amongst the superheroes. You wondered if it was best to find your own place to live away from them, away from him and resign as an avenger and live a normal life like you desperately wanted.

It was clear he would never accept you as a friend, or even as a teammate. You had so much to think about, it was the weekend too so you gave yourself until Monday to come to a decision.

"Hey, has anyone seen Y/N?" Sam asked, grabbing the bowl of salad on the dinner table. There were some mumbles and the rest of them shook their head. Bucky lowered his gaze to his plate, his heart wrenched tightly in his chest as he reminisced over what he has done to you. 

You stayed in your room for the whole day. Skipping food and occasionally sneaking out for the odd bottle of water with FRIDAY's assistance. The team were worried about you. You didn't answer any of their texts and didn't acknowledge them when they stopped by your room. You knew Tony could have ordered your door to be knocked down if he wanted to. And you didn't know but Bucky had stopped by a couple of times too, but he had to keep up his facade.

It would be the next day when you came face to face with Bucky again. You woke early and decided to get some training done, a bad mistake on your part for doing it on an empty stomach since you started to feel dizzy and nauseous. 

You were jogging on the treadmill when he barged in through the doors in his shorts and tank top, he went straight to the weights. He audibly tutted when he saw you but you decided this time to ignore him.

In the floor-length mirrors, you watched him as he stretched his muscles. Mumbling something under his breath and he kept looking at you, so you knew he wasn't saying nice things. Your legs were starting to turn to jelly, so you shut the treadmill off and stepped off and slowly approached Bucky. As you got nearer him, his nose scrunched up in disgust like your scent was offensive to him.

"Hey, Buck. Do you need a spotter?" You motioned with your head to the weight. He ignored you and continued mumbling under his breath.

"If you have something to say, say it to my face Barnes." You huffed out, a sheen of sweat on your forehead.

"I have nothin' to say to you. I don't know why you keep botherin' me."

"What- what did I do to make you hate me so much?!" Your jaw clenched. Blinking to stop your tears from falling, you refused to let him see you break down.

"You didn't do anything wrong." He shrugged, resuming his squats.

"So you just hate me for no reason?" Your arms folded over your chest, pushing your breasts together and you noticed his eyes quickly glanced at your swells and his tongue darted out between his lips. You cleared your throat and his gaze met yours, as you stood there waiting for his answer. 

To Bucky, you were looking as gorgeous as ever. But he didn't overlook the way your eyes were dark and your skin was pale. If anything, he was concerned about you but his strategy was working and couldn't let his emotions slip through now.

"Look, Y/N. Just because you're friends with the rest of the team doesn't mean we gotta be friends." His pointer finger motioned between you. "I don't like you, it's as simple as that. I don't need a reason. So stop badgering me with questions and creeping up my ass like you're my wife."

Before you could argue, Nat walked in. She looked at the two of you with a questioning eyebrow, a small hope you've sorted your differences out.

"Hey, Nat!" Bucky smiled at her. "I need a spotter. Can you do it?"

"But Y/N is here. She can do it."

"But I'm asking you. I trust you more." He grinned.

And it was then you understood you didn't need to wait until Monday to make your decision.

You watched as Nat walked alongside Bucky to the weights and spotted for him. You murmured a quick goodbye to Nat and went to your room, taking a hot shower and sat on your bed with your back against your headboard, you sighed as you opened your laptop.

You explored Google for a couple of hours looking for apartments you could realistically afford. It would be perfect if you were a billionaire. Then an idea hit you.

"You want me to what?!" Tony yelled, swinging on the stool to look at you like you had just grown 2 heads.

"Tony please I promise I will pay you back in monthly payments once I get a job-"

"A job? You've already got a job."

You sighed and massaged your temples. This was not going as well as you had hoped.

You had very kindly asked Tony for a small loan, without giving him the details as to why you needed the money. You just needed enough to cover rent for a couple of months and some furniture, and when you found a stable permanent job, you would repay him. But you neglected to tell him about your plans to resign because you knew he wouldn't allow you to leave.

"Tony, I can't explain it right now but please trust me-"

"Are you in any trouble? Drugs? Gambling? Are you pregnant?" He asked, cutting you off. You groaned and shook your head no to his questions. "Sorry kiddo, unless you tell me what's going on, I'm not giving you that amount of money."

You felt helpless. You just wanted, needed to get away from the compound. But nobody was willing to help you and you couldn't face the hundreds of questions from Tony right now if you did explain the real reason why you needed the money.

Leaving the lab defeated, you leaned against the wall and yelled into your hands. 

"What did you need the money for?"

Your head shot up to the sound of the voice and furrowed your brows. Bucky leaned against the doorframe of the room next door with his arms folded over his chiseled chest. You were surprised to see him here.

"None of your damn business." You spat and started to walk down the hallway and unfortunately, you needed to walk past him. His hands grasped at your wrist as you step past him, he pulled you back so you're face to face with the man of your nightmares.

"It is my business if it concerns you." His grip on your wrist tightened painfully.

"LET GO BUCKY!" You screamed in his face as you saw his nostrils flare. You pulled your arm back and walked away from him. His heavy footsteps were not far behind you. 

"Don't you walk away from me, Y/N!" The sound of his voice prompted you to move your legs faster. 

You made it to your room and just as you were about to shut the door behind you, a large foot stopped you from doing so. 

"Bucky, leave me alone!" You groaned as he easily pushed the door open and slammed it shut behind him. 

"What, so I ask you a question and now you don't wanna talk to me?" He questioned. 

"What the hell are you talking about? YOU'RE the one who's been acting like a total asshole towards me. Ignoring me when I speak to you!" You hissed. 

"Yeah and only because I heard you and Nat talking about me in the kitchen days after I got here!"

"What? What did I say?"

"So what do you think of Bucky?" Nat asked you, leaning over the kitchen island as she sipped her tequila. 

"He's kinda cute but I don't know... I don't like him that way." You chuckled. You had the hots for the new recruit James Barnes, wild and vivid dreams invaded your mind as you dreamt of him every night. 

While you were busy gossiping with Natasha, you didn't hear the footsteps and heavy breathing outside of the kitchen. 

Your eyes widened when he retold you the story, a simple misunderstanding lead to this much hate and it was all your fault. 

"I - I didn't mean in the way that you thought Buck." You whispered, your heart was heavy with the guilt. The guilt of him assuming people already didn't like him when he was just learning to accept himself and settle into society. "I'm so sorry." you sighed and sat down on the edge of your bed. 

"I'm sorry, too." The bed dipped to your right. "I should have asked you about it first before I... did this." 

"Is that why you ignore me?" You asked, wanting a real answer this time.

"It was. Because I thought you hated me too." Bucked tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and smiled. "We're both stupid huh." He chuckled.

You nodded your head and joined him with a chuckle of your own. 

"God, I feel so stupid." You cringed as the memory of that night replayed in your mind. 

"Imagine how I feel." Bucky sighed, running a hand through his locks.

"Don't leave." He whispered, catching you off guard. "That kind of money you were asking for would make it possible for you to run. Please don't." His eyes pleaded.

"Are things gonna be different? I can't really cope with this anymore..." You admitted. 

"Most definitely, I don’t wanna fight anymore. I’m tired of fighting. He sighed. “I know of this really great diner a few blocks away. Would you care to join me for some food and a milkshake?" The corner of his lip was pulled up and you nodded your head eagerly, earning a deep chuckle from Bucky.

Dinner at the diner was amazing and for once you enjoyed Bucky's company. The two of you talked everything over and apologized to each other repeatedly. 

You learned a lot about Bucky in the span of an hour. What kind of music he listened to, what his favorite movies were. Turned out he loved the gangster movies and you couldn't blame him. You recommended Goodfellas and he invited you to his room to watch it with him sometime. 

Bucky talked a lot about the 1940s. How different the music was back then and how different the women were. He loved women with self-confidence who didn't need to wear dresses and skirts every day and was comfortable being in her own skin. 

You shared a lot of common interests with Bucky and you regretted not speaking to him sooner about everything. Though the many times you did and he shot your attempts down. 

Bucky paid for dinner and that was another thing you felt guilty about. You offered to pay for your own but he insisted it was his treat for the way he had so rudely spoken to you. 

"Thank you for dinner." You grinned from ear to ear. 

"You're welcome, doll. I love this between us." He admitted, putting an arm over your shoulder as the chill from the air bit you. 

"Me too. I don't wanna go back yet." You chuckled. 

Bucky walked to the vacant bench overlooking the city. You shivered as a gust of wind blew past you. 

You sensed Bucky was staring. You turned your head smiling ready to question him when his lips pressed yours. Your angled heads allowed you to deepen the kiss as your hands wrapped around his neck pulling him closer. His tongue tasted of the chocolate milkshake he had earlier at the diner. The need for air becomes greater and Bucky rested his forehead against yours with a goofy grin on his face. 

"I'm so sorry for everything." His breath fanned against your lips. 

"I'm sorry too and I forgive you. Can I ask you a question?" 

"Anything." He pulled away and smiled.

"Was that - was that your first kiss since...?" You pondered. His body stiffened and you were worried you crossed a line. 

Bucky bellowed out a laugh as a visibly crimson blush crept up his to his cheeks. 

"Maybe." He looked away embarrassed and you couldn't help joining in on the laugh. 

You and Bucky spent a lot of time together since the diner. You watched movies in each other's rooms and took each other out for dinner. 

Everyone at the compound were surprised by the turn of events. 

Just weeks ago, you and Bucky would have happily killed each other and now? You were joined at the hips. Where there was you, there was Bucky and vice versa. 

Since you became so close to each other, Bucky had no problem asking you to be his date to the upcoming party Tony was hosting, which was happening this evening.

You wanted to wow Bucky tonight. With Natasha and Wanda's help, you chose a black dress that showed just the right amount of cleavage with the laced arms, black stockings, and heels. Wanda curled your hair and Nat painted your nails to match your dress and did your makeup, creating a black smokey eye effect. 

You looked gorgeous and the girls knew you would make him weak at the knees as soon as you stepped in the room. 

Bucky was already downstairs with a drink in his hand as he waited for you. He was dressed in a black tuxedo and bowtie, unintentionally matching your outfits. 

The party was in full swing, people dancing, talking and catching up. The main doors swung open and everyone in the room went quiet. Bucky was worried he had gone deaf until his eyes followed the trail of everyone else's. 

His eyes bulged out of his head and his jaw hit the floor when you walked in with your clutch in your hand and looking gorgeous in your dress. 

He watched as your eyes scanned the room and landed on him. He watched as a grin was etched on your face and he returned it. 

His feet carried him closer to you and you met him halfway. 

"Hi, soldier." You greeted as you admired his bowtie. 

"Y/N... you- you- you look..." He was speechless as his eyes wandered up and down your form. He was so used to seeing you in jeans and shirts and on occasion did he see you in your tactical armor. "You look- wow... just... breathtaking." He stuttered and blushed. 

"Do you like my dress?" You grinned up at him as you wrapped your arms around his waist. 

"Yes. Very much." He panted, his eyes turned dark with lust and this gave you the encouragement you needed. 

You leaned up near his ear, your breath made him shiver. "Would you like it more if it was on your floor?" You whispered as his arms snaked around your body and pulled you closer to his. 

"Fuck yes." He growled. 

"Y/N! Wow, you look beautiful." Sam beamed from beside you. 

Bucky growled and before you could respond to Sam as he interlaced his fingers with you and pulled you away. You smiled apologetically at Sam, who just shrugged in return with a knowing grin. 

It was only Steve and Sam who knew of Bucky's lust for you since you became friends. 

Bucky pulled you along and into the elevator when it opened. 

"My room, FRIDAY." He ordered.

"Yes, Sergeant Barnes." The elevator began to move and anticipation built up inside of you. 

"Ready for a long night, doll?" He asked as the doors slid open and he pulled you to his room. You nodded eagerly, relieved your plan worked and you didn't need to resort to using Sam to make him jealous.

**********

Taglist: @buckysmischief @stuckonjbbarnes @sebbbystaaan @valkyriesryde @mypassionsarenysins @honeyvbarnes @stateoflovinged @tuesdays-are-for-bobby @photography-to-all @dark-night-sky-99 @veganfangirl5 @infj-slytherclaw @imma-new-soul @hailqueenconquer @mood-pancakes @seb-be-holding-these-tatas @seb-owns-these-tatas @margoshanotherwriter @iheartsebastianstan @lovvliies @buckysdumbmetalarm @livylou3333 @marvelsangels @donnaintx @crushedbyhyperbole @teamcap4bucky @zeilenkrieg @itsunclebucky @this-kitten-is-smitten And tagging my loves: @babiiface95 @perpetually-tuned-out @pinnedandneedled @captain-kelli @captainchrisstan @capandbuckylvr @simsadventures @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @smutsonian @jobean12-blog@sebastiansloserclub @buckythewhitewolfx @babblingbonky @a-mess-of-fandoms @hey-its-grey @the-ss-horniest-book-club @littledarlinhavefaithinme @godofplumsandthunder @criminal-cookies @stateoflovinged @eurynome827

[davids-cartoon-corkboard]

Y’all know my theory at this point: when Raph was little he got separated from his family somehow and had to survive on his own for a while; the trauma from this caused him to develop DID.

It’s pretty clear Savage Raph formed specifically out of that isolation/survival trauma, but we met a third alter in “Pizza Puffs”, who I am calling “Red” for now. What’s his deal? When did he form and why?

-----

Raph: These guys are lost without me! Maybe I should help them.

Red: Make them do it themselves. It’s the only way they’ll learn.

Raph: But they’re just kids!

Red: And you can make them men!

-----

Raph: I gotta get in there!

Red: No. They’ll never learn if you always help ‘em, Raph.

Raph: But I can’t just sit here.

Red: This is for their own good.

-----

Raph: I knew you guys could do it.

Red: No you didn’t! I did!

Raph: Oh, you wanna go?

Red: Bring it.

-----

While Savage fronts when Host can’t handle being literally alone, Red spoke up in “Pizza Puffs” because Host was struggling to deal with being sort of... metaphorically alone? In that his brothers were dying a little bit and weren’t taking him or the situation seriously. Normally “it’s not good to be too dependent on others”, “kids need to grow up” and “sometimes you have to do things you don’t like” are good life lessons, but in this particular situation the life lessons should have waited until after the boys weren’t poisoned anymore. Sure, they pulled through, but Raph staying behind added an unnecessary level of risk. There’s a level of disjointedness between Raph and Red that I’m hoping will be explored and resolved in the future.

New alters form when preexisting alters are unable to handle whatever is going on in their life. What situation would Raph have been in for Red to form? When was “be independent/grow up/do something you don’t like” important? "Pizza Puffs” was the first time we’ve seen Raph do a solo mission, but it’s not the first time something like that has been mentioned.

“You went out on your own when you were [Mikey's] age.”

Thirteen is a very lonely age to be. I’m thinking events went something like this: Raph started hitting puberty at around 12/13 and Everything Was Awful. He was suddenly a lot bigger and stronger than he was used to, so he would accidentally break things around the lair more often, or get a little too rough when playing. I know we tend to poke fun at the “nobody understands me and everything sucks” mindset teens fall into, but as a mutant, Raph’s world was so, so small. Disconnected from his brothers, whose minds hadn’t hit the same milestones yet. Disconnected from his father, who would be passed out in the middle of a “Scorpion Treadmill” marathon whenever Raph needed guidance. Disconnected from April, a normal human girl who lived a normal human life he could never have.

Raph’s temper is relatively mellow now, but back then? Under those circumstances? He went too far.

And then he ran off topside, shame and nausea biting at the leftover fury in his heart.

In previous iterations, this is when he would run into a certain masked vigilante. But not in this universe. Not on this night. Casey wasn’t out pummeling pickpockets, she was training at the Foot dojo. They wouldn’t meet until “Hot Soup: The Game”, a couple of years later.

So Raph curled up on a roof somewhere with only his awful, awful thoughts for company. His little brother had been so scared of him... he couldn’t go back and face his family after what he had almost done. But he couldn’t stay up here alone either. What could he do?

Grow up.

He’s stronger now, and he has to be braver, too. He knows the way back home and there’s nothing out here that can hurt him. He can stand to be alone for a bit.

But he can’t stay here forever. He’ll have to go back home and do what he can to make things right, no matter how much it hurts.

So Red breathed in the cold night air for a while, and then retraced his steps back to the lair.

-----

But how are Raph and Casey going to properly meet? We saw her get kidnapped by that shadow thingy at the end of “Always Be Brownies”, so the resolution to that whole situation should be involved somehow.

Draxum gave Big Mama an orb covered in clawed, three-fingered hands. Then we see that Big Mama’s new assistant has such hands, as does the entity that took Meat Sweats and Casey. Clearly Big Mama is having her assistant kidnap people to fight in her “Fantabulous Battle Nexus Wizbang”. The turtles will be pulled into this because you can’t just not have your protagonists participate in the tournament arc.

We have yet to see Casey go well and truly Apeshit, because her previous fights have always had a certain level of shenanigans to them. Mikey fought her with an umbrella and a beach ball. Leo shoved a portal under her feet. She accidentally slashed up a corpse flower and fell into the goo. Her bonding moment with Splinter made her less willing to fight. The FBNW will give her the opportunity to show us what she can really do by pitting her against an opponent who is no-nonsense, one hundred percent ready to throw down.

Who could possibly be a better opponent for her than Savage Raph? (Perhaps Big Mama’s shadow captured the Sando Brothers, and they gave Big Mama information on a better fighter in exchange for their freedom?)

The two are evenly matched, of course, but the fight gets interrupted by the other turtles causing a mass breakout thanks to Leo’s emergency leader skills. Savage runs into his brothers amidst the chaos and they get Host to switch back in again. They defeat Big Mama and her shadow together and head home, yay huzzah plot concluded.

Casey, forgotten, also escapes and sneaks off to brood somewhere.

-----

A few episodes later, Red slips away to cool off for a bit (a habit that formed when he did, a way to decompress whenever they felt their temper getting the better of them) and happens to see some hockey mask-wearing lunatic picking fights with pickpockets. He hops down and holds her back, letting the would-be thieves get away with their skulls intact. “Listen, I get that you’re mad, but you can’t just go around-” And then he gets a baseball bat to the head.

"Back for round two, are you?!”

Red shakes the stars out of his eyes. That voice sounds familiar. “Hey, I don’t wanna fight you! Pops told us you left the Foot, we don’t have to be enemies anymore! Your heart’s in the right place with this whole crimefighting thing, but you’re going too far.”

Casey laughs a laugh that’s more taunt than humor. “Crimefighting? You think that’s what this is?” She gestures at the direction the thieves went with her scuffed and bloody bat. “This is training! You ran from our fight in the Nexus and I have been itching to beat you ever since. Die, coward!”

Red just barely manages to dodge the second bat swing. “What are you talking about? I never even saw you in the Nexus!”

They trade blows for a bit, Red’s attempts to calm her drowned by Casey screaming and cursing out this “lying turtle scum”. “Where is your fury? What happened to your viciousness? Why won’t you give me a real fight this time? Why are you holding back?!”

Her voice fades and all Red hears is the high shrieks and low roars of a crowd, harsh lights dulling the twin moons set in the green sky above as she lunges towards him and-

The bat hits his side with such force that the wood cracks a little, knocking the wind out out him despite his sturdy shell.

Casey stops bludgeoning him to better focus on gloating. “That move didn’t work on you last time. Did the first hit scramble your brains?”

Red kicks her feet out from under her and bolts, running back to the lair as quickly as he can manage with his head full of sights and sounds he can’t quite grab onto.

-----

Leo had stayed up to wait for his brother to return, so he grabs the first aid kit the moment Red emerges from the sewer tunnel. He starts to ask what happened as he unspools a roll of bandages, but Red asks a question instead. "What happened at the Nexus while I was... gone?"

Leo knows what he means, and the sun starts to rise as he fills in the gaps in his brother's memory.

-----

Casey’s ankle is twisted from Red's kick, so she can’t run after him for more than a few steps before falling over. Limping back home, she puts on her motivational Lou Jitsu playlist and begins to scheme.

---

For the record, I do think Raph and Casey will eventually become friends. But in the meantime... what kind of superhero doesn’t have a nemesis? :)

[miyaniacs]

I just read your post about an s/o who has muscle and is insecure about it. butttt could you do one with an s/o who works out but cant get results? and is insecure about it since they literally have a volleyball god boyfriend. ahaha thank you in advance if you write it! 🥺❤️❤️

Heyyy ✨❤️ i tied my best and did some research of what could be the reason why someone don't gain muscles - most of it is in Kuroos because he's the real nerd out of the three haha 

But keep in mind that this is nothing to be insecure about - yes it’s frustrating but you’re still an amazing person ❤️✊🏼 

HC S/O is insecure because they can’t gain muscles 

Bokuto 

Having a boyfriend who gets the bills paid by doing sports is cool yeah 

Dream coming true 

But also he’s ripped 

And you are healthy and active and working out …

But you don’t look like you are? 

You just don’t gain muscles 

So one day you decided enough is enough 

There has to be something you haven’t tried out yet so you decided to ask your baby owl 

“Is it because of something I said?? I’M SO SORRY IF I SAID ANYTHING THAT MADE YOU FEEL INSECURE -”

“No no Baby it’-”

“Baby you’re so beautiful you don’t need to change something about your body!“ 

“KOU!“

“…yes?“

“you did nothing wrong baby. I want to do this for myself. I want others to see how hard I work out… I want us to match:(”

“But baby… I don’t care if you don’t look as fit as I do.. I know that you can easily kick my ass“ He tilts his head to side

“Kou, I know you do - you’re just perfect - but I really want this…and I feel like nothing I do helps me gain muscles … “

“Okay .. mhhh … how about from know on we both stick to my meal plan? Obviously you don’t need to eat as much as I do but just so you get the right nutritions! All those supplements WONT help if you don’t have the right base already! OH and I can come to the gym with you next time and see if I see anything you could improve? I think you’re probably too afraid to increase the weight incase it would be too heavy and you make a fool out of yourself. SO when I’m with you - you don’t need to be afraid of this baby. AND you need to rest your muscles ok? AND the best way for this is getting enough sleep.“ He smiles and takes your hands in his 

“Okay kou..and I’d love too.“ You smile and kiss his cheek

“But …. You sure know that I love you with or without muscles yes? And that I don’t care about what others say?“ 

“Yes I know this baby- you’ll show it everyday“ you smile and he grabs your face, kissing you softly.

“But we still have our cheat days on the last Friday of the month“ he smiles brightly 

Just perfect boyfriend #1

Bonus: 

“baby… you really need to sleep more tho“ he pouts when he finds you awake at 2am 

“I know .. but I can’t fall asleep..“

“Ohhhh if that’s your problem we can include a small workout so you get tired from now on?“

“Kou… my muscles are already sore I wont go for a run in the evening.“

“baby.. I’m not talking about this kind of workout“ He smirks while taking off his shirt and walking over to you 

“I talk about the sort of workout that makes you really scream… the really hardcore one…“ he hovers over you and starts kissing your neck 

From now on you sleep like a baby 

Kuroo 

Sooo …. Kuroo is the equivalent to a healthy and fit person 

And you’re just .. basic? 

And yes.. you hear some people whisper why he’s with someone who’s not as fit as he is?

But you work out?? …. the comments still got into your head and you got insecure 

Sooo you started working out more,  not telling him tho because you wanted to do this by yourself 

But… whatever you’re doing your doing something wrong.. 

Alter 4 months there should be some muscles right? RIGHT?!

But there aren’t ???

So you become moody 

All those extra exercising made you tired and not seeing results just frustrated 

And Kuroo quickly noticed this and talks with you about it 

Since you know - he’s observant af and always worried about you and wants you to be happy all the time 

Because he’s perfect boyfriend #2

“Ok y/n. Tell me what’s wrong?“

“Oh nothing, I just don’t feel good“

“You know you can’t lie to me“ he sighs 

You sigh. he is right and you know it and you know that you need to put your pride aside and let him help 

“So .. technically… When someone wants to gain muscles but sh- HE doesn’t see any results.. what would you tell him to do?“

“Technically?“ He smirks 

“Technically!!!“

“Ok.. so technically- I would make sure that HE eats the right nutritions. Many still don’t eat enough because were told that eating more than what.. 1200 cals makes you fat - but to gain muscles you need to be increase your intake and stop being in a deficit. HE should make sure to increase his Protein intake and not just with Shakes“ He side eyes you “but also with actually EATING more proteins. Instead of relying on those you af first need to make sure you have all the needed multivitamins. AND if you use protein powder, use the right one - oh He should use the right one - Whey Protein has a broad spectrum of amino acids to help repairing and rebuild the muscles.“ 

“Ohhh okay… mhhh wow you really know much about this“ you mumble 

“Y/N?“

“Yes?“

“Also YOU need enough rest and sleep to let your muscles relax. You need the rest days to BUILD muscles. The hormone which is helping to grow muscles has its highest level when you sleep. And the more you stress yourself because you don’t gain them helps braking down the existing ones. Cortisol - a catabolic hormone - comes with stress and it can break down your muscles-”

“Kuroo I-” “not finished yet. I’ll come to the gym with you the next time and make sure that you lift the right amount of weight and make sure that you increase the weight. You won’t get muscles if you don’t increase it.“

“Thank you..“ You mumble 

“No need to - but come to me next time when somethings bothering you. I love you an I want you to love yourself, okay baby?“

“Okay..“ You smile and he kisses you cheek 

“Now - lets go shopping and fill the fridge with the right stuff.“

Oikawa 

Oikawa is fit

There is no one who can say he’s not 

And yes you enjoyed working out with him 

But there is like NO GAIN?? 

And it frustrated you that you’re  still normal and he’s ripped and getting more ripped everyday 

And yes you hear his fangirls making fun of you 

“Omg how can he be with someone who’s not fit at all?“ “I know right? Just a matter of time that he switched her for one of US when he sees us at the gym“

You’re sulky the rest of the day 

Not giving him the much needed attention he wants 

So he’s now clinging on you 

“BABYYYY what’s wrongggggg tellll meeeeeee“

“No it’s nothing love“

“But BABYYYYY I know there is something uppppp“ and he starts doing the worst thing ever 

He tickles you 

This bisch I swear 

After about 5 minutes you give in 

“Oka--OKAY:. I  -OMg STOP - I cant breathe“ You whine

“Noooo. Tell me then I stopppppp“ he smirks mischievously

“I want to gain muscles but I just don’t?“

He stops and looks at you dumbfounded 

“That’s it??“

„Yes..“

“baby.. first of all- your genetics aren’t made for getting muscles easily. Some of us have it harder then others and YOU can train as much as you want but you still will only get those lean muscles, because that’s just how your body is. But if you want me to help you I will gladly get your ass off the treadmill - too much cardio wont help you. And I will make you add the extra weight to kill your muscles so they get that they need to get stronger. AND YES. I - THE GREAT OIKAWA - WILL CARRY YOU IF YOUR LEGS HURT TOO MUCH!“

“Thank you baby, I’ll remember the carrying part“ you laugh but then your smile drops again 

“Whoaaa baby.. there’s still something bothering you?“

“You wont leave me for someone who looks fitter than me right?“

“OMFG WHAT?! I would never leave you because of something so stupid? I love you with my whole heart and I don’t care about this stupid things- Yes I care about it if it’s bothering you - but other than that those thought would never cross my mind“ and with said words he’s all over you kissing ever part of your skin that is exposed saying how much he loves you with every kiss. 

perfect boyfriend #3

[theonewiththefanfics]

The List (one-shot)

Synopsys: The Reader and Tom have been best friends for years. When she finally gets time off of Uni and comes to visit him and Harrison on the set of Spider-Man: Far From Home, she becomes great friends with all of his co-stars, much to his delight. But when he overhears a conversation between the Reader and them, he can’t help the jealousy that fills his heart. And maybe that was the final push needed for his crush on her to be revealed.

Pairing: Tom Holland x f!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, SMUT

Warnings: SMUT (thigh riding, m going down on f, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, y’all), overstimulation), swearing, and the usual stuff you’ve come to expect from me

Word count: 5636

           “Okay, okay,” Y/N laughed before resting her head against the couch as the group waited for her answer. “Let me think…. Okay… In no particular order – Catherine Zeta-Jones… I mean I’d let that woman do anything she wanted to me. And when I say anything, I mean anything… Zac Efron, ‘cause that look in Hairspray did things to me.”            To that Zendaya snorted. “Dude, I can introduce you two.”            “And you’ll say what – hey this stranger like millions of others wants to fuck you ‘cause you’re on her list? If you’re down, of course.”            Cackling at Y/N’s answer ‘cause it was true, Z motioned for her to continue. “Michelle Pfeiffer, because Queen.”            Z, Harrison, Jacob and Angourie all nodded in unison.            Jacob pressed on. “Two more.”            “Okay,” Y/N chewed on her lip for a moment before settling on the last two people. “Ben Hardy ‘cause Bohemian Rhapsody was a look,” she emphasised the last word, and Anguorie groaned in agreement. ��          “And Sebastian Stan,” Y/N finished.            Z’s eyebrow raised. “Really?”

           “Okay, listen, have you seen his thighs? Like… I’d ride them into the sunset if allowed. And he seems like such a sweetheart, and he cares so much about his fans, it’s the most endearing thing ever,” Y/N gushed because to be fair, she had been a fan of his since Once Upon A Time, and his version of the Mad Hatter had struck a chord. So, the fact that Tom worked with him, and they had a banter-like relationship made her heart beat faster.            Just like with her friend, she was incredibly proud of him because Y/N knew how it felt to be an outcast, and having heard his struggles of integrating into a complexly new society at the horrible age of twelve made her feel for Sebastian. Teenagers were shitty people. Besides, the fact that there was a possibility she could meet him through Tom, also didn’t help with the slight obsession she had with the Romanian and his thighs.            As the conversation started to dissipate, everyone chiming in on who’s on their list, Tom who’d been standing right outside the door of the trailer finally came in; his hair a completely dishevelled mess, and face a mask of calm with a small smile playing on his lips to mask the jealousy.            “And what is everyone talking about?” Tom asked entering Zendaya’s trailer and flopping down next to Y/N, putting an arm behind the couch. On an instinctual level, she leaned against his side making his heart flutter before all the butterflies were squashed when Zendaya elaborated.            “Her list,” Z said with a smirk pointing at the girl next to him before sipping on her drink despite it having gone stale.            “Oh really?” Tom’s unruly eyebrow quirked up. “Do tell.”           “Catherine Zeta-Jones, Zac Efron, Michelle Pfeffer, Ben Hardy and Sebastian Stan,” Y/N listed off the names while rotating her head from one side to the other and gave him a pointed look of ‘was that good enough? Happy?’            “Ouch, Y/N,” Tom put a hand over his heart in mock hurt, though there was some real pain mixed in there as well. “And no me?”            The girl snorted and rolled her eyes. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I know you have hordes of adoring fans that would love to get into your pants,” she patted his leg, “which means you are famous, but to me… you’re just Tom. The same guy I’ve known since being six, and the same guy I had to rescue from a spider two weeks ago… and I have a phobia from them.”            “It was huge!”            “First off, that’s what she said. And second – you call me for help?!” she exclaimed through a laugh. “Do I need to remind you of the zoo incident?”            Angourie’s eyes sparkled at that. “Wait, what’s the ‘zoo incident’?”            “We went to the London zoo a couple of years ago, and in the tropical house one of the big hairy spiders had somehow gotten loose, and Y/N found herself with it on her shoulder,” it was hard for Tom to keep the laughter away at first, seeing as everyone was howling, but remembering the state his friend went into, all happiness evaporated.            “I had a panic attack,” Y/N expanded, shrugging as if it hadn’t been truly terrifying. She didn’t mind the others laughing about the event. Looking back on it, as much as it made her shiver, she knew there was no harm in their reaction, but Y/N would be lying if she said Tom and Harrison not laughing didn’t comfort her a bit. They knew her struggles, so it was nice of them to keep it to polite smiles. “Like to the point they had to call an ambulance because I wouldn’t stop screaming and hyperventilating,” she chuckled, but to elevate Tom’s mood ‘cause he had been so distraught that day, she nudged his shoulder.            “Why do you think Spider-Man’s my least favourite superhero?” Y/N teased looking at Tom and waiting for his usually snarky response, but instead, this time all she got was a roll of his eyes as he diverted his attention to Harrison and bit down on his lip.            Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed at that. Obviously, she didn’t mean it, and Tom knew it. Just because she didn’t have an affinity to the eight-legged spawns of Satan, didn’t mean she hated Spider-Man, let alone Tom as the character. She couldn’t be prouder of him if she tried.            “Tommy, you okay?” Y/N leaned in closer so that only he could hear her. “You know I didn’t mean it, right?”            There was such concern and care in her gorgeous Y/E/C orbs that he had no choice but to melt and push down the jealousy. “Yeah, darlin’. I know.”            He pecked her forehead and gave his full attention to the rest of the group. But deep down a coil of jealousy started to unfurl.

***

           The next day Tom walked into the gym in a sour mood, so much so both Anthony and Sebastian stopped to look, as the boy walked over to the treadmill with slumped shoulders. So completely opposite of how he usually greeted the two with a cheery smile and handshake.            Of course, all the teasing they did was in good fun, no one took it to the heart, but after Y/N had so freely talked about wanting to ride Sebastian’s thighs into the next year, all those things they'd staid kinda stung. Especially because he hadn’t been on the list, and she kept referring to him as her friend.              “What’s gotten the baby in such a bitter mood?” Mackie teased as he added more weights to Sebastian’s bar. “Girl trouble?”            “Actually yeah,” Tom confessed putting the water bottle in the holder, and then he groaned. “Massive girl trouble.”            He heard his two fellow actors sigh. A loud ‘clank’ echoed through the room, and then they were next to him.            “Spill,” Sebastian nudged his chin in Tom’s direction, making him huff and cross his arms.              “Well, she came to visit me while we shoot the movie,” he started leaning against the side of the treadmill, “and she’s getting along incredibly well with everyone which I’m totally happy about, but then last night, Haz, Daya, Jacob, Angourie and Y/N-“            “She the girl?” Mackie needed clarification. Tom nodded and then continued. “They were hanging in Daya’s trailer waiting for me to finish up, and as I was walking over to them, I heard them talking about her… list...”            “Five celebs she’d do if given the chance?”            “Yeah,” Tom confirmed, and Mackie nodded like it was the most understandable thing. “And the thing is… well, I’m not on the list… but Sebastian is.”            A teasing smirk pulled on the brunet’s mouth. “I am?”            “Yes, and I’m not going to go into detail, ‘cause I don’t need those flashbacks,” the Brit immediately said before either man could open their mouths and start pressing for the nitty gritty info. “But when I asked why no me, she said ‘cause I’m ‘just Tom’.”            Anthony shrugged, the water in his bottle sloshing around. “And what’s so bad with that?”            “I’ve been flirting with her for the past three years. We’ve even kissed! And we both were sober when we did it!” Tom groaned throwing his head back in frustration. “I just don’t understand it...”            Anthony had a sympathetic look on his face, because again – all the teasing came from a place of love and respect, but there was nothing fun in seeing Tom so helpless and beaten down. “Have you considered that she just might not see you that way?”           “Like a celebrity? Yeah, no she said she doesn’t care about this whole Marvel shit and all, that I’m just Tom to her, but…” he huffed, “that’s what’s bothering me. I’m ‘just Tom’ and I don’t wanna be ‘just Tom’. I wanna be more.”            “Or,” Sebastian raised his eyebrows at Anthony in a way that said ‘don’t completely crush the kid’, “she could be completely oblivious to what you're doing. Listen,” he straightened out and wiped away a trail of sweat from his forehead, “I was once trying to flirt with a girl, a friend of mine, much like Y/N is yours, and I thought I was being very obvious. Which I was, but the problem wasn’t with the hints, it was that she was totally clueless. It took me actually saying to her face ‘hey, I really like you, and I wanna take you out for dinner, and maybe have a relationship with you’ before she caught on.”            Tom bit at the inside of his cheek before looking up at the two men. “Do you really think that could be it? That she’s just not picking up on the hints?”            “I dunno, man,” Sebastian shrugged, and Mackie had the same unknowing look on his face. “What do you have to lose though?” With that said, the two retreated to resume their workout but kept a close eye on the boy.            “Her,” Tom whispered under his breath as he thought over the advice and got prepared to run. “I have everything to lose.”

***

           It was almost two weeks after the conversation about the list, and Y/N’s time in Austin was running out before she had to get back to London and Uni. Which meant Tom’s time to confess was running out as well. Who knows who she could meet while back in England, and while he was stuck filming?            Once again, they were all hanging out, now with the addition of Tony, which didn’t help Tom’s mood despite everyone relaxing. Y/N’s list had been brought up again, and although the two were gushing over Catherine Zeta-Jones and how Michael Douglas should watch out, all Tom could think of was how she had practically drooled over Sebastian and his thighs.            “We should all go out clubbing!” Z suddenly exclaimed jumping up from the couch and grabbing her purse, bringing Tom out of his wallowing.            “And that’s my cue to leave,” was Y/N’s response to the invitation.            A plethora of ‘no’ and ‘boo, you bore’ and ‘what!’ rung through the room, but she just shook her head with an affectionate smile. “Clubs are not my scene, like whatsoever. Just ask Tom and Haz how many times they’ve tried and failed to get me out on a Friday night.”            Everyone’s expecting eyes befell on the boys. Harrison was the one to respond. “All of them.”            Y/N just raised her shoulders. “I’m a bore, what can I say.”            While a few of their gang still tried to coerce her to join, she was steadfast on going back to the hotel and getting some sleep. As she stood up from where she had been nestled in Tom’s side, her hips and spine popped making her release a satisfied groan, but that also drew Tom’s attention, specifically to how her bright yellow sundress rode up her body a bit. It took everything in him not to moan at how soft the back of her thighs looked, but ever the good friend, he stood up as well and told her he’d drive her to the hotel.            “Come on,” Y/N sighed giving him a smile, “I can just call a taxi. I don’t wanna keep you from all the fun, just because I’m a buzzkill.”            Tom just shook his head, dead set on getting her there. “I invited you all the way out here. What kind of a best friend would I be if I let you just leave on your own?”            “A normal one that doesn’t want to miss out on all of the fun with his other friends?”            “Or a normal one that wants to make sure his friend gets back to her hotel safely?”            Y/N chuckled as the two of them made their way downstairs and to his car. “And a taxi wouldn’t do that?”            “Nope,” Tom smirked and skipped ahead opening the door for her. But that’s where the light-heartedness ended. The second he was in the car and the ignition was on, a tense atmosphere rolled over them.            He wouldn’t speak to her, instead just kept pursing and biting his lips while Y/N kept glancing at her friend, but he wouldn’t even spare a second.        She had talked to Harrison about Tom acting a bit off the past couple of weeks, and although the two were best friends as well, she was definitely closer with the brunet than the blond.            “I dunno,” Harrison had shrugged. “He’s acting off, I won’t deny that, but he hasn’t said that anything’s bothering him.”            Y/N rolled her eyes. “Of course, something's bothering him.”            “But what can we do unless he talks about it?” Harrison shrugged.            And he was right. If Tom wouldn’t say what was wrong or why he was pushing the two of them away, she didn’t know how to help. So, when he stopped in the car park of her hotel, the two moving up to her room with that awkward silence still between them like a wall, she had had enough.            “Are you okay?” Y/N asked biting her lip and crossing her arms after she dropped her purse onto the sofa. Tom had gotten her the VIP suite much to her chagrin, but even being as exhausted and upset as she was now, the bed seemed lumpy and uninviting. “You’ve been pulling away, and I don’t know what I did wrong, but I need you to tell me so I can fix it.”            “Nothing’s wrong,” he mumbled brushing a hand through his hair. “I dunno what you’re on about.”            Frustration was boiling in her veins. “No there is something wrong. You’ve been off since that night in Z’s trailer.” And then it dawned on her. “Tom, you know it was a joke, right? About hating Spider-Man.” Y/N was terrified he had actually taken the comment to the heart. As she was about to reach out for him, wrap the boy in her embrace he took a step back.            “You think it’s about that?” his eyebrows shot up so high in his forehead they almost disappeared in his hairline. “Un-fucking-believable.”            Y/N scoffed. “I’m not a fucking mind reader. So, unless you tell me what’s wrong, I can’t help.”            “You know what,” Tom closed his eyes and raised his hands in dismissal, “forget about it. Doesn’t fucking matter.”            “Of course, it does! We are best fucking friends!” she exclaimed unable to comprehend why Tom was pushing her away. “And I care for you! We tell everything to each other, so fucking talk to me!”            “I don’t wanna be your best friend anymore! I’m fucking in love with you!”            A small, soft ‘you what now?’ fluttered through the air as Y/N stood in front of him with her mouth agape.            “I’m in love with you!” Tom cried. “I’ve been in love with you for five years now! And for the past three years, I’ve been flirting with you, but I can’t take it anymore. I can’t do this! Why can’t you see it?! Why can’t you ever see me?!”            With every spoken word, Y/N was moving closer and closer calling out his name, but he wouldn’t stop. Years of pent up emotions were finally flowing freely, and you can’t stop a river from rushing to the sea.            “I’m always there for you! I’ve always been there! When it’s a broken heart, a broken arm or just a shitty day, it’s always been me that makes you feel better! And yet you’ve never been able to fucking see me!” his hands went up to pull at the messy curls, eyes shut as tears rolled down in an endless stream. “And I can’t take it anymore! I need you to know, I just-“ his chest rattled as he pulled in a breath, completely unaware that Y/N was right in front of him. “I can’t keep living with this pressing down on me, when I know we could be happy together, when I know I can love you like no one e-“                “Tom!” she yelled right into his face. As he slowly lifted his gaze, two tears streaming down his high cheekbones she wiped them away with the tenderest of touches. “Stop talking and just kiss me,” the plea was barely audible, but he heard it. He would’ve heard it over the howling of a tornado or the crashing of waves. It was a plea he never thought would ever be uttered, but there was no way in hell he’d ignore it.           For a moment he was stunned, brain processing the fact Y/N had actually said that he should kiss her, but then she moved forward more, Tom’s hands wrapping around her waist on instinct.           “Kiss me,” her lips brushed right against his, and that’s when his mind cleared from the fog, and his mouth was on Y/N’s.            It was messy, a clash of tongues and teeth as years of hidden love spilt over the surface and into the heart of the other, filling them to the brim like wine filled a cup. They were grasping at one another in a desperate manner, trying to touch everywhere at once.            Stumbling back, Tom flopped down on the edge of the bed, bringing Y/N to straddle him.           “I wanna ride your thigh,” she moaned as he nibbled on her neck leaving purple marks in his wake.            “Really?” the question was muffled from where his mouth was attached to her skin. “You sure it isn’t Sebastian’s thigh you wanna ride into the sunset?”            His sass wasn’t something she wanted to deal with, especially as the ache between her legs became more and more and more unbearable, so she bit out, “keep talking like that, and it will be.”            The rough grasp around Y/N’s hips as he flipped her leg over his and ground his knee upwards towards her crotch was enough of an answer as to what he thought of the statement. “Not a chance, darlin'. Not a fucking chance.”            “I’m just saying,” Y/N moaned out as Tom’s hands rolled her hips forward and backwards on his thigh, “you just spilt out your heart to me, and then come after with the sass?”            He groaned as her teeth latched onto his shoulder before her tongue soothed the bite. “You deserve it for not realising what’s in front of your eyes.”            Tom could feel the wet patch of where Y/N’s arousal had soaked through her panties and onto his jeans, and that just made him flex the muscle more, making her moan his name into his ear.                “Feel good, love?”            All Y/N could do was sigh in pleasure. Slowly, gently as she was still grinding against his thigh inching closer and closer to the inevitable release, Tom took his hands away from her hips and placed them at her back to unzip the dress.            It pooled around her sides like a pond of sunshine, and when he lifted his gaze up, his knee jerked quite literally, giving Y/N that final push that made her tumble over. As she rode out the waves of her first orgasm, Tom’s mouth watered at the sight before him – her completely naked chest.          In complete awe, his palms trailed up Y/N’s waist sending another shiver down her spine, as they skimmed across her ribs, under her breasts before cupping them and rolling her nipples between his fingers.    He was so enamoured with bringing Y/N to the edge, that he didn’t even notice how much he needed to cum himself until she palmed him through the black jeans while his mouth had been covering her collarbones with hickies.            “Shit,” Tom hissed as Y/N unbuckled the belt and opened the zipper and the button alleviating some of the tension. Lightly she raked her fingers down his stomach, over his abs and left red marks on the skin of his hips before dipping below the waistband of Tom’s boxers to grab at his length.           Another hiss made its way into the air as Y/N scraped the nail of her thumb against his tip smearing the precum down his cock. Tom attached his mouth to her neck sucking against her sweet spot as she slowly worked her hand over him, just enjoying the moment.            It felt surreal for both of them. Not for a second did either think they’d end up in a position like that – with Y/N moaning Tom’s name as his lips travelled down her collarbones and to her breasts and with Tom doing everything possible as to not cum in his pants because her hand was pure magic.            “You keep going like that,” he whispered and bit at the underside of Y/N’s boob as his fingers gave a harsh tug on her nipples, “and it’ll all be over right now.”            She moaned at the sting of where he’d bitten her but was now licking the pain away. “And we don’t want that do we?” her voice was hoarse already. Tom couldn’t wait for what was about to become of her.            Pushing away from him, Y/N stood on the floor and let the dress drop, leaving her in white cotton panties. They were definitely not sexy or even remotely attractive. In fact, they were the most basic ones she had because she totally did not think that’s how her night would go, but Tom didn’t seem to care one bit.            His chocolate eyes, already dark from the lust, became like a void looking at Y/N. A black lace thong or waist-high period ones with stains – he didn’t care. His shirt practically flew off of him as he stood up and smashed his lips against hers, needing to have that constant contact, and while his hands roamed and dipped all around her body, fingers brushing against her clit through the fabric, Y/N got rid of Tom’s jeans. She was just about to push against his chest to make him drop on the bed and take off his boxers when he slid down onto his knees in front of her and placed open-mouthed kisses to the inside of her thighs.           “Shit, Tommy…”            Her hands wove into the brown locks and pushed them away from his face so she could see his eyes that never left her face.            “Let me make you feel good,” he mouthed the words against the inside of her thigh inching his way closer to where Y/N needed him the most.           “Let.”           Closer.            “Me.”           Another inch.            “Make.”            One more.           “You.”           Almost.           “See.”           Right there.           “The stars.”            And he placed his lips right on her clothed clit. By that point, Y/N would’ve been a sobbing mess from the neglect if not for the need to keep her body upwards as to not crush Tom.            “Please,” she whimpered brushing his hair away from his forehead, and that one little word was enough for him to roll down her underwear, mouth still latched onto the supple skin of her thighs. It was enough to grab her by the waist and pull her down to sit on his lap as he quickly discarded his own offensive piece of clothing. It was enough to make his member violently twitch against his stomach at the thought of her dripping cunt wrapped around him.            Gently Y/N rocked back and forth to coat him in her slick, mouths entwined in a dance when his eyes sprung open.            “Wait, wait, wait, condom,” Tom took his lips away from Y/N’s, but she was quick to bring him back by saying "it’s okay. I’m on the pill and clean.”            “Are you – are you sure?” there was such worry in his gaze, her heart skipped a beat. “Because we can wait, we don’t have to do anythi-“            Her lips interrupted his ramblings once again. “Make love to me, Tom.”            “Okay.”            Internally he scolded himself because ‘okay? Seriously? That’s the best you can come up with?’ though the gentle smile on Y/N’s face calmed his thundering heart, and as he muttered out an “I’m also clean”, and she replied with an “I trust you” while climbing in his lap, he swore his heart was on the verge of giving out.        The sigh both of them let out was filled with pure relief. Relief that the ache was about to be quenched, relief that they were together in this, relief that they both felt the same way. Relief that it was all out on the table and there was no turning back.            One of Tom’s hands rushed up to his curls and fisted them, eyes squeezed shut as he strained to stay composed, to give Y/N time to adjust to the intrusion. “Fuck,” he whispered as she leaned down and rested her forehead against his peck, trying to accommodate to the size. “You good there, darlin'?”            “Give me a moment, just a bit more,” Y/N’s breath was shaky as she whimpered.            “As much as you need… we don’t have anywhere to rush to,” and that brought a small smile on his lips. They had all the time in the world.            Another minute passed before Y/N rolled her hips a bit, startling Tom with the sudden movement and eliciting a whimper from his throat. All of it was unhurried and soft, the movements deliberately slowed down so the two could feel the other.            She moaned at how full she felt; all of the ridges and veins of Tom perfectly fitting inside of her and not just that. As he intertwined their hands together bringing their lips in for a kiss, all of the pieces just fit.    Every time they would hang out and hold hands, Y/N would marvel at how natural and good it felt. How easily her heartbeat synched up to his during their Friday movie nights when her head rested on his chest. And that one time when they’d kissed at a bar, his lips had moulded to hers perfectly. They were perfect for one another, and Y/N wanted to scream at how oblivious she’d been.            As much as he wanted to close his eyes and just allow himself to feel everything, Tom couldn’t. His mind screamed to not even blink, to not miss a second of what was happening, to take in the full spectrum of the gorgeous sight on top of him. But he was just human, and sometimes pleasure could be overwhelming.            The way Y/N clasped and fluttered around him, her soft breaths echoing all throughout the room like a symphony made Tom squeeze his eyes shut and rest his head against her chest. Her fingers carded through his hair, pulling at the strands as if to get him closer than he already way.            Tom’s hands had most definitely left imprints on Y/N’s hips, and they became harsher as he felt himself near his peak with every single thrust. But she wasn’t there yet. And he wasn’t about to finish without her tumbling over first.            Detaching his lips from the valley of her breasts, Tom licked the pad of one of his thumbs and sneaked it between their moving bodies, pressing it ruthlessly against her clit. Y/N choked on a breath at his touch because it was the thing, she needed to release all over his cock.            The incredible tightness Tom felt made a groan rumble through his chest, and with two more thrusts, he spilt all of himself inside her.    They were trembling as they helped one another to ride out the waves of pleasure, and once Y/N came down from her peak, she slumped over in his hold, a soothing hand running up her shivering back.            Gently, Tom helped her roll to the bed and off of him, not once detaching his mouth from her neck, words of praise and love being whispered in her ear. He was just about to stand up from the bed and go to the bathroom to grab a damp washcloth and clean them up when his eyes trailed to her core and fixed on how his seed dripped out of her.            “Fuck, you look so good like this,” Tom moaned leaning back down, a finger slipping over her folds and mixing up the white and clear liquids. “But I bet you taste even better.”            And then he dove in. Despite Y/N’s core spazzing around nothing from the overstimulation, he didn’t let her shimmy away. Instead, his biceps flexed, and his hold became as strong as iron, as he pulled her harder against his mouth and kept on his assault.            Expertly his lips wrapped around her clit creating an airtight seal as he sucked on it, sending Y/N spiralling. Her back arched up from the bed, both hands grabbing at the pillow behind her head for some sort of support because there was nothing left to tether her to the real world.            Her mouth opened in a silent scream, Y/E/C eyes that had been locked onto Tom during the whole ordeal rolled to the back of her head as she cummed for the third time that night.            As the euphoria rippled through her veins, Y/N was finally able to find her voice and the most guttural scream of Tom’s names split the night air into two, a hand fisting in his hair to keep him there between her legs.            Tom’s whole jaw was a mess as he crawled up Y/N’s body leaving sloppy kisses all over before he could plant a passionate kiss on her lips. She was still floating, still somewhere in space, but had enough consciousness to grant his tongue access and wrap her hands around his neck, as the taste of him and herself invaded her mouth.            “Been wanting to do that for a while,” he muttered letting his lips kiss her chin and cheeks while his palms soothingly rubbed her quaking thighs.            “Well, you're welcome to any time,” Y/N chuckled, mind still completely dazed. She let herself relax for a moment, and in the meantime, Tom laid down beside her. With both of them still completely naked, he brought her in his embrace and burrowed his nose in her hair, just to stay in the blissful moment.            “Tom?” Y/N hummed turning her head to the side. “Can you let me go for a sec? I need to pee; don’t want a UTI.”           Reluctantly he pulled his arms away from her torso, but not before giving her boob a playful squeeze making her swat his hand away. Y/N stood from the bed and immediately collapsed onto the floor.            He was jumping to the rescue instantly. “Shit, are you alright?”            But Y/N was full on laughing, hands clutching her stomach and legs curling up to her chest, tears streaming down her face. “O-oh my god! I’ve never been unable to fucking walk after sex!”            An adorable cherry blush rose and spread over Tom’s chest and cheeks at the remark. Knowing he was the cause of her happiness and also her inability to walk after their escapades, made his heart stutter, and he had to mask his exhilaration and shyness with a chuckle.            “Can you help me get up?” she extended both hands out to Tom. “I still need to pee.”            He climbed out the bed and grabbed Y/N’s palms that fit so flawlessly in his and gently pulled her up.            “You good?” he watched her take two steps while still holding onto her. But she seemed to have regained some control over her limbs so with a small “yeah, thank you,” and a peck on his lips, she went into the bathroom.            After doing her deed and having thrown a damp towel to Tom, Y/N scrambled back into the once lumpy looking bed that was now like a cloud, mostly because of who her pillow was.            “So,” he smirked looking down at her, trailing a finger over her bicep, “am I on the list now?”            “Nope,” Y/N popped the ‘p’ and cuddled up closer to Tom. “Still don’t consider you a celebrity. Besides… those people are on there for a theoretical ‘what if they were down for it and I had the chance’ scenario… hopefully, this wasn��t a one-time thing, and you’ll be down for the rest of our lives.”            Tom snorted, a lightness filling his chest. “Darling, now that I’ve finally made you understand that I’m in love with you, I intend on making sure you remember that.”            Y/N couldn’t help the quirk of her lips, and she pecked his chest. “So,” she breathed out, “who’s on your list?”            “You,” Tom answered in full seriousness. “Just you. Have been since well… since like five years ago when I fell in love with you.”            Y/N slapped his shoulder and shook her head as she laughed. “I’m calling bullshit on that one.” But he just shrugged.            “Games or not,” his lips skimmed over hers, “‘what ifs’ or not. The only one I need or want is you.”

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take): @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @sweet-ladyy @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan@nerissa98 @happyseagrill @asguardiansoftheavengers @crazybutconfidentaf @wishingforahome @pizzarollpatrol @desir-ae

A/N: sooo, I’ve been working on another Endgame fix-it-fic and it’s around 8k words rn... and it’s barely halfway done :) I feel like I’m going to combust. Sorry for the absence, it’s just a lot to write as was this one, but I hope you liked this :D

P.S. tell me what you think :)

P.S.S. my tags are always open/ requests are closed

[florenceandthemachine]

that original lifeline

chapter 5 / 5 - “you deserve what you are given” - 3.6k

in which Eddie has a good day, has a bad day, sees a familiar face, and tries not to blow up an ambulance. not necessarily in that order.

it’s all done! my first ever standalone, prompt-free fic! I hope you all at least tolerated it as much as I did. I also would like to say—please, if you’re seeing things that look messy or need to be touched up, you’re welcome to let me know. I'm sure I'm going to go over it and re-edit a million times over the next week.

read on AO3

Eddie knew that things were going to be different the moment he slapped his alarm the next morning, because for the first time in months, he actually turned his alarm off. He didn’t lie in bed and ignore it, he didn’t hit snooze until he could get the energy to see the day, he turned it off, he got up, and he started to dress. He couldn’t remember the last time he had greeted a Monday on time for an early morning workout, but the few miles he was able to get in on the treadmill was nothing compared to the look of happiness on his son’s face when he got to join him and Carla for breakfast—instead of running out the door, a granola bar lodged in his mouth. He literally felt like he just woke up on the right side of the bed this morning; judging by the way that Chris lit up, and Carla rose her brows in surprise, his change in attitude was already being noticed. 

Even if Carla was good enough not to comment on it. 

Honestly, Eddie didn’t know what was going on himself, but he wasn’t going to complain. A day ago, he had almost started to cry at one of those family car commercials with an old dog in it, and today, he was already back into the familiar motions of ‘being well’. 

He had been through enough therapy in his life to know the “highs and lows” mental health speech every which way, but what he hadn’t realized until this morning was that when you were low, being low becomes your new normal. Eddie had been through it before (with Shannon, with his parents, with… name a thing), and he knew it would probably come again, but that didn’t make the moments that he got to stand in the light on the other side of the tunnel any less sweet.

It felt like he was standing in the sun.

“Morning Hen! Coffee?” Eddie grinned as he took the stairs up into the loft two at a time, box of danishes in one hand, coffee holders stacked high in the other. He had literally been smiling since he parked his car outside, and was now beaming at Hen only because she was lucky enough to be the first person he got to see that day. Lucky, sure, but he still didn’t miss the way that her brows rose into her hair as she took her cup and her selection of baked goods, knowing full well that this was probably… a lot to take in from his behavior for the past many weeks. 

“You’re… cheery.” Hen commented easily, staring at Eddie like a puzzle to figure out—and while that would have made him nervous before, it was actually kind of nice now, a friend showing that she cared. 

To his credit, Eddie just shrugged, pulling off another coffee as he put the boxes down on the table, knowing full well they would be devoured before he could even look back. “What can I say? It’s a good day today, the sun is out, and I only have to be here for eight hours. Hey, where’s Chim? I got Mr. Asian James Bond an extra bear claw, since he’s been driving everyone up the wall with his whole sorority girls speech.”

Hen let the topic drop (and Eddie thanked her silently for it) as she groaned and shook her head, taking another drag from her coffee cup as, sure enough, the pastry boxes started to draw everyone in like flies. He started handing out coffees to those who’s orders he could remember, grinning as Hen launched into it. “No no, ‘Asian James Bond’ was last week, now it’s ‘Asian Sex Symbol’ to you. God, that stupid calendar, between he and Bobby I am ready to enter myself, blow them both out of the water as Miss July, and—”

“Hey, hold up, where’s Bosko?” Eddie said, cutting her off before she could pick up too much steam, staring at the last coffee in his hands as Bobby pulled his own free. 

Hen and Bobby shared a glance as Bobby cleared his throat around a mouthful of coffee, swallowing before he started to speak. “Actually, Lena’s back with the 136 for the foreseeable future. I’m happy to say that we finally have that vacancy filled.”

Eddie felt his brows launch into his hairline, only vaguely remembering that Lena was supposed to be here on a temporary basis—and he had been a complete ass to her for the past few months. Well, that was going to be a fun little addition to his long list of issues, and he winced as he made a mental note to swing by the 136 later on with another danish and an apology. Hen caught the look, her own brow tilting in return, though she was good enough to redirect her attention back up to Bobby. “So, wait, who’s going to be the newbie on the 118?”

“He is walking up the stairs right now, if you want to turn around. Just graduated out of the Academy last week. Pretty much top of his class, apparently impressed enough people that I had to fight off station 6 to get him to come here—welcome, Evan Buckley.” 

“Hey, uh, you can just call me Buck.” 

Eddie almost choked on his coffee as he heard a voice behind him, grabbing a napkin to catch a few drops as he turned, trying to repress his cough as he turned around, meeting a pair of blue eyes, staring at Eddie with an intensity that made his insides curl like he had just been sucker punched. He didn’t say anything, of course, just reached out and shook hands, introduced himself, did the whole shebang—with a smile, he might add! 

Today was a good day. It could still be a good day. It really, really had the potential to be a good day. 

-

Today was not a good day. 

Eddie wanted to work well with Buck, he really did, but every time Buck opened his mouth, all Eddie could feel was pressure, water pushing in on him at every angle, the choking taste of mud in his mouth. At this point in time, Eddie wasn’t sure what was worse—that Buck seemed to put his foot in his mouth whenever he talked to Eddie, or the fact that he didn’t seem to give a fuck where and when he was flapping his yap.

An exploding man hole cover literally knocking someone’s arm into the nearby pool? He had barely started with “Hey, you good? You must have lucked out after that firetruck and all…” before Eddie was talking over him, asking for gauze and a tourniquet to try and save some of the live tissue in the very-much-not-alive arm. 

A stab wound to the ass that resulted in the most lifelike Michelin man that Eddie had ever seen? “So, silver star, huh? You save a platoon or something?” Eddie managed to smile, jaw tight as he shook his head. “No, nothing like that. I was just in convoy.”

Even their downtime wasn’t safe—a grocery run that wound up with the entire team stacked high with grocery bags as they walked back into the station? “Hey, I saw a piece about that drill—“

“Alright, who wants lunch?” Eddie was immensely thankful for Bobby’s distraction, not bothering to hide the fact that his interruption was far from a coincidence. By now, even Hen was looking at Buck like he was a crazy person at that point—or maybe just an asshole. 

Somehow, after all of their calls, it only came to a head in the gym. Apparently, Buck had decided that the subtle approach (not that anything Buck did could be called subtle) wasn’t good enough, and for whatever reason decided that the gym was the best time to approach Eddie. 

Honestly, if Eddie wasn’t a good thirty away from the first real workout he had had in weeks, he probably would have walked away.

“Eddie, you… you know who I am, right?”

His jaw twitching in time with his punches, Eddie finally relented from the poor bag and looked at Buck directly, jaw set as he started to rewrap his hands. “And what if I didn’t? You think this would have gone over well with HR, the new guy bringing up the worst days of my life and all but asking me about a fucking guardian angel?”

“Jesus, that’s not what I—“

“I met Athena.”

Eddie could almost hear Buck’s mouth shut, the clack of his teeth somehow louder than the din of the station behind him. “I met her and she told me that she didn’t know what had happened, and then she offered to make me forget. Forget about you, about everything, because not even she knew where you had wound up.” Eddie started, rolling his wrists easily. “She apologized to me, she said she missed you, well, not that she was alone in that sense. You should probably find a way to apologize to her, too. Let her know you’re okay. Hold the bag.” Eddie’s voice was low even as his tone started to sharpen, doing his absolute best to keep his face neutral, lest he want any attention from Hen or Bobby for harassing the new guy. 

To Buck’s credit, he did as Eddie asked, holding the bag steady as Eddie started to wail on it anew, thankful that he at least had the temporary distraction of pressure against his knuckles to stop the urge to scream into the sky. 

“Athena… she really did that?” Eddie didn’t respond, just threw another punch, grunting with the exertion. Buck’s voice was low, barely louder than the sound of Eddie’s hands making contact with the bag. “Is that what you want? An apology? Because I’m not going to apologize for saving you, Eddie, I’m not going to say sorry for not leaving you in the bottom of a pit to… I’m not sorry for that. So if that’s what you’re after, I don’t know what to offer you.” 

Eddie threw a kick from his left, giving Buck plenty of time to adjust his grip before his ankle came smashing into the bag, panting as he stared Buck down, feeling the anger start to drain out of him as he breathed, shaking his head. “Buck, is that what you think this is about?”

Buck, bless him, just looked like a lost puppy when what Eddie said sunk in.

“You saved my life. I mean, you’ve always kept me safe, but back there you saved my life. You let me go home to my kid, you… I could never thank you enough for that. I’m not mad about that.” He shook his head, flexing his fingers as he took another fighting stance, his poster lower, more subdued than the all out attack he was waging before. 

“Well then what—“

“I’m not mad at you because you left.” Eddie repeated, starting another round of punches, each hit slower, shorter, but packed with more force than was strictly necessary. “I’m mad at you because you fucking—because you didn’t come back. Because you chose not to come back. You went through the academy, top of the class, and that was eighteen weeks of you being here, just miles away from me in Los Angeles, and you let me think that you were dead that entire time. You were with me my whole entire life, you were a constant, and then I lost you, Buck, and I had to try and live with that. And then you show up at work today, and you’re alive, and human, and I’ve had barely eight hours to deal with all of this, after I—I fucking mourned you. I mourned you, and you let me, and that—that’s why I’m mad.”

Although, the more he spoke, the more Eddie realized that he wasn’t mad, not really, not that he would own up to it that easily. He wasn’t angry, he was just… crushed. His hook got sloppy and he went wide, eyes wild, stumbling only a little before catching himself on the bag.

“Why does everyone leave me? What did I do, Buck, why didn’t you come back?”

The sudden sound of footsteps drew his eye up to the loft where the next shift was pouring in, easily exchanging pleasantries with Eddie’s team, and Eddie felt the last bit of fight drain out of him as he started to unwind his gloves. The day was done. His shift was over. And after feeling nothing but empty for weeks, Eddie had just about exhausted the entire range of his emotional capabilities in less than a day.

“Eddie, I—“

“Forget it, Buck. I’ll see you tomorrow, or whatever.” Eddie said, not even bothering to look over his shoulder as he headed back to the locker area.

-

“Fire and Rescue, hello?”

Eddie was having another… long day. Not a bad day, not necessarily, but not a… great day either. He had still managed to get up, he had still brought himself to work, he still managed an honest smile when he kissed Chris goodbye, but he found himself hesitating before he wound up walking into the 118. He didn’t know if he could handle Buck again today—thankfully, it seemed like he didn’t have to. Buck was mostly absent that morning, giving Eddie enough apologetic looks over the table to display that he got he had been an asshole the day before (or, more likely, that Hen and Chim had verbally beat that fact into him before Eddie got there).

Their morning had gone off without incident—there had only been one real call outside a few false alarms, a moron with his head literally cemented into a microwave—and to be honest, Eddie couldn’t deny the fact that he loved how easily he and Buck could work together. Well, how easy they worked together when Buck shut up for three minutes. 

Another save, an easy lunch, and Eddie’s eight hour shift looked like it would be ending easily when they got the call to head down to Torrence, walking into what felt like the worlds most mothball-scented Army Navy Surplus store.

Eddie felt his body tense up as soon as the word ‘grenade’, having to take a split second to remind himself that he was still in the States, he wasn’t in wartime, he was still safe. Because he was safe, they were okay, until Buck moved the dressings and a gold glint caught his eye. 

“None of the guys I’ve worked with were dumb enough to shoot a live round into their own leg, but I’m familiar with the ordinance.”

Eddie felt his jaw twitch again as Buck stared him down, a tic that he was sure would come to be familiar in over the next few days. Honestly, he was starting to think that Buck was just bringing all the mess with him—he had gone months without a call that threatened his life and limb, and then as soon as Buck came back into his life, there he was, with a grenade stuck inside of some old, gun collecting bastard. He could almost feel the moment where Buck opened his mouth—it was the same feeling he got whenever Buck had appeared, years and years ago, whenever something extremely stupid was about to happen. 

“I’m in.” 

Of course he was. 

For what it was worth, Buck had stellar bedside manner. It was easy for him to to make small talk with Charlie while he hung the morphine, asking about his wife, his life, and Eddie found himself a little bit reassured by how easily Buck was able to buckle down and rise to the situation. After all, Buck had been doing that for Eddie’s whole life—it would be a shame if he lost that skill when he could use it the most.

They kept their talk small and professional as Eddie worked, even though most of his work was giving short, clipped orders, like he was afraid that the grenade would be able to tell how stressed out he was and put them both out of their misery, then and there. They both let out a collective sigh of relief as the grenade plunked, solid and heavy into the bin, Buck hastily closing it like a lid would save them all if that thing were to blow up.

Eddie was just finishing up, throwing a few stitches to try and keep things together until Charlie could make it up to surgery when Buck finally found his voice.

“I was scared, Eddie.”

Eddie didn’t even bother looking up, his fingers working quickly. “I know, but we got it out, we just have to be careful not to move the box too much.”

“No. I mean, about coming back, about seeing you, I… I was scared.”

Eddie looked up as he threw another stitch, sparing a quick look to make sure that the old man was still out cold. When Buck looked up to him, Eddie rose his brows, giving him a little not of encouragement. 

“You said I’ve been with you your whole life, but… that goes both ways, Eddie. I don’t even know what happened, one minute I had hurled you out of that lake, and the next I was nothing, there was just nothing, and then…” He took a breath as he moved the dressings, letting Eddie continue his easy stitchwort. “And then I was in a loft in Los Angeles, with a drivers license in my pocket and a brochure for the LAFD Academy on a dresser. I still don’t know how I got there, but I knew it would bring me to you.”

“Here, cut here.”

Buck snipped the end of Eddie’s suture easily, passing him a tube of antibacterial gel, dolloping it along the messy wound site.

“For the first time in years, I couldn’t feel you anymore. I didn’t know what you were doing, or how you were feeling, or if you were safe, and it scared me. I missed you, of course I did, but I knew that if I just went right back to you, it would be like nothing had changed, when really, everything had changed.” Eddie looked up as he covered the gel in an adhesive gauze patch, hanging another bag of fluids, eyes tracking between the steady blip of the heart monitor and the very live grenade in a bin at the end of the ambulance, while his brain tried to keep up with the live grenade that he and Buck were lobbing back and forth.

Nodding for Buck to open the back door, Eddie waited until they both had their feet on the ground to respond, rolling his neck. “Well, that’s kind of par for the course. Being scared, I mean.” he started, a small smile on his face as Buck looked back, catching his eye. Eddie shrugged, eye darting over to the rest of their team, still safely out of earshot as he nudged Buck’s shoulder, the motion easy and simple, muscle memory built up over years.

“Welcome to the human condition. It kind of sucks. You’re going to love it.”

And fuck, Buck was smiling again. Eddie would give anything to keep that look on his face, even as they handed Charlie off to the medics, even as the bomb squad guy called in the robot to… well, to do what, Eddie didn’t know. But that was the beauty of it all—he didn’t have to care anymore. All that mattered to him in that moment were his boots on his ground, the air around him, and maybe, if he played his cards right, the team he got to work with. He could feel Bobby’s eyes on him as he pulled his flac jacket off, a little slow on the uptake of whatever had happened in the ambulance.

“You know, you’re pretty badass under pressure.” Eddie said, his face curving up into the first real smile he had worn in days. Buck looked like a deer in the headlights, like Eddie must have been talking to someone, anyone else, and even Bobby cracked a grin as Eddie smacked him in the arm. “You can have my back any day.”

Buck looked, well, Eddie would have framed the look on Buck’s face if he could. It was a vision of pure joy, the simple sentence meaning more to both of them than anyone else could ever know, and Eddie had to resist the urge to pull him into a bone crushing hug as he kicked at the ground. 

“Yeah. Or, you know, you could… You could have mine.”

If Eddie smiled any wider, he felt like his face was going to crack.

 They were still not great—not by a long shot—but for the first time in almost six months, Eddie finally felt something close to closure, to peace, a starting point for the two of them that would take them both who-knows-where.

“Deal.”

And then, because nothing in Eddie’s life was ever easy, the ambulance exploded. Eddie wasn’t even phased at this point in his life—any exploding vehicle was fine by him as long as he wasn’t on it.

“Are, uh, are you guys hungry? There’s a great burger place around here, they’re open for another hour or so.”

-

Hanging back as the rest of his crew packed up, Bobby pulled his phone out of his pocket as it buzzed, a small smile gracing his lips as he unlocked it. 

New Message from A - 11:12PM

Well? Was I right, or was I right?

“Cap, come on! Burgers wait for no man!”

To A - 11:14PM

They’re going to be one hell of a team.

[thekytchensynk]

An Absolutely Normal Training Day (Fictober Prompt 24)

Prompt number: 24

Fanfiction Fandom: DCU/Booster Gold and Ted Kord

Rating: G

Warnings: No warnings

Read this story on AO3

“So you’re sure about this?”

Ted grinned. “Trust me! It’ll be great.”

They both stood in tee-shirts and sweatpants in a room at Ted’s house. Booster thought it used to be some sort of formal sitting room last time he visited -- the sort of room where the furniture is nice so you can visit with company in there, but all your company is so informal that it feels too weird to go in there. Booster had seen it only once, and felt pretty sure there was enough dust that it gave the upholstery a whole new texture.

All of that was gone -- except a big bay window. It let in a lot of light on a fake-hardwood floor, a couple floor-to-ceiling mirrors, a treadmill, a rack of weights and … this.

“You’re sure about this,” Booster repeated.

“Will you stop judging a book by its cover?” Ted replied.

To be sure, judging it by its cover would do little for this particular book. The machine in the center of the room looked somewhat terrifying --falling somewhere between an oversized doll and a piece of construction equipment. He’d made some effort to stretch a rubbery skin over the whole thing, both to protect it and the people around it, Booster supposed. But that just made the whole thing another step creepier. The face was a single, smooth piece of metal with only shallow protrusions and indentations for facial features.

“How do you sleep with this thing in your house?” Booster asked, walking a slow circle around it. The thing looked rooted to the floor, which he assumed meant the bulk of its mechanical bits had to be down in the basement. Did you need some sort of special license for that?

“Quite well, thanks,” Ted said, so jovially that it tipped over into sarcasm.”Now come on. Half the Justice League, they have powers. Guys like you and me, we have gadgets. And you know what that means.”

“Ridiculous repair bills,” Booster agreed.

“Ye- No! It means we get put in the same category as Batman. Which is totally unfair, since that guy can probably kick the butt of an entire army platoon without breaking a sweat. So you and I, my friend, need to bulk up.”

“And we can’t do this in the same training area as everyone else because…” Booster prompted.

Ted shot him a look. Clear as a word. Clear as a book with its contents right on the cover. “Aww, come on, Ted,” Booster said, walking back around the monstrosity to stand by him. “No one is judging you or me or anyone like that. Well…” He paused. Amended, “well, Guy maybe, but he’s an ass. No one should listen to what he says. Dude, you move like an acrobat. It’s really impressive.”

Ted looked skeptical. “Nah, this is going to be great. Just think of their faces when I show up, ripped-”

“From this?” Booster paced around it again. “”Looks more like something that’ll rip you in half.”

“No pain, no gain.”

Throwing his hands up, Booster said, “Fine! How does it work. Let’s see the miracle in action.”

“Now you’re talking.” Ted walked over to the rack of weights and picked up a silver box that had been resting on top. It turned out to be a remote control, about the size of a stick of butter. It featured a couple dials and two buttons.”Speed,” he said, pointing to one dial, then the other. “Strength, and these are the on and off buttons.”

“Simple enough,“ Booster said, looking but not touching. He’d been around enough inventors to know to always, always let them try the experiment first.

“Three on the dial is average human,” Ted said, setting both dials there. “So, good place to start. Work my way up.”

“You really don’t have to do this,” Booster tried one last time. If pressed, he would have to admit he was still judging the book by its unsettling, quasi-human cover. It seriously freaked him out. Reminded him of an inhuman amalgamation illustrated in a book of scary stories for kids he’d taken out of the library once upon a time.

But Ted took a deep breath and pressed the on button. For a moment, nothing happened. Then a low hissing sound began to emit from the machine.

“Is it supposed to do that?”

“It’s the pressure building up in the hydraulics. Here.” He handed the remote to Booster and squared up opposite the machine. For a moment, they stood there, neither making the first move. Then Ted went in -- two quick steps and then punch aimed for the thing’s “face.”

The entire mechanical body swayed left with speed that left the metal screaming, then its body rotated a full time around. The head, of course, stayed perfectly still because why move normally when it could move creepily? One of the flailing hands caught Ted full in the face and knocked him back, out of range.

Booster hurried over to where his friend lay sprawled out on the ground, propped up on one elbow and with the other hand over the red blotch on his face. “Ted, you OK?”

“Uh … yeah. Yeah, I think I’m fine.”

“Oh, good,” Booster said. There was a beat, then he started laughing.

“It’s not funny,” Ted said.

“No. It wasn’t funny when I thought you might be hurt. But now that I know you’re fine, it’s hilarious,” Booster said between his laughter. “Your invention just slapped you across the room. Maybe you should have taken it on a date first before getting so close.”

“I’m glad to know your compassion runs only skin deep,” Ted said stiffly before starting to climb to his feet. Booster offered a hand. Ted scowled and got up on his own, but there wasn’t any real heat in it. Turning and surveying the still-twitching machine, he said, “I guess there are still a few kinks.”

“Looks like,” Booster agreed.

“Maybe when I assembled it, I didn’t account for the additive effect of the tubing. Or…”

That caught Booster’s attention. “So, you didn’t test this before showing it off?”

“I tested … parts of it,” he said defensively.

Further discussion got cut off as the machine spun around again. And then again. The hissing sound had stopped, and in its place a whine had begun, low but climbing in volume and intensity.

“Maybe we should turn it off,” Ted said. Wordlessly, Booster pressed the marked “off” button.

The thing kept going.

Frowning, Booster tried the button again. Then he handed the remote to Ted, who tried several more times. The combat dummy had begun to twitch back and forth, in addition to the shell of the chest rotating over and over. It had a very “if you get hit by this, it’s your own fault” vibe.

“Well, this is unexpected,” Ted said at last. He dialed both dials down to zero, but this didn’t cause any notable change in the performance.

“How worried should we be about this?” Booster asked.

“Umm… I’m going to go down to the guts,” Ted said, backing away from the flailing machine. “And maybe you should put your suit on. Or at least the bit that gives you that force field.” Then he ran out of the room, heading toward the kitchen and, presumably, to the basement from there.

Booster ran and got his belt.

When he came back, the machine almost looked possessed. It thrashed back and forth, still sometimes spinning. When this happened, the hands would smack into the floor, chipping up pieces of it.

“Ahh, shoot,” Came a muted voice from below. “Something got in here. This cord is chewed right through … which one is-”

Whatever mooring the sparring dummy was attached to seemed to be working loose with its wild gyrations. The movements were getting bigger, and he could see the metal box below it starting to peek up into the room.

“You gonna turn this thing off, or…” Booster asked the floor. The room wasn’t all that big. He set himself up in front of the window. On the off chance this thing did tear free, he didn’t want it to go sailing straight out through the window and potentially into some neighborhood minivan.

“Trying.” Ted’s voice carried equal parts exasperation and anxiety. “How’s that?”

“Did you do something?”

“Yes!"

“Then no change,” Booster blocked an incoming slap from the machine. Jeeze, that was supposed to be human strength and speed?

“I think … ah, are you kidding me? How could the … hold on!” Ted seemed to be carrying on a whole conversation with himself now.

“Ted?”

“I’m going to try cutting the hose. Hold on.”

A moment later and the room erupted in a spray of liquid and the sparring monster just sort of … lifted off. Booster watched it slam through the ceiling, then heard it slam through another level above. He stepped under the gaping hole in time to see the thing sailing up into the cloudy sky, drifting a little toward the front of the house. Booster booked it outside to make sure the suburban nightmare he’d been trying to prevent earlier wouldn’t happen in a whole new way.

He got out to the front lawn just as the training dummy came plummeting out of the sky and landed in the middle of the front yard in a shower of dirt. Booster blocked the flying particles from his face with one arm. When he lowered it, he saw the remains of the dummy poking out of a new crater. Looking further, he saw a kid on a bike, maybe eight years old, staring. As he looked, a door across the street opened and a woman stepped out, shading her eyes and staring over.

Footsteps came up behind him, and he turned to see Ted approaching, splattered head to foot in what he assumed was hydraulic fluid. He surveyed the front lawn, hands on hips, then let out a huge sigh. “We’re in trouble, huh?”

“Yup.”

“What are the odds this gets back to the League?”

“For us? 100%.”

“Fair point. Help me clean this up? We could use a workout still.”

Booster grinned. “Hey. There’s always the League’s gym.”

[notyetneedcoffee]

Got To Stay Warm Somehow

Pairing: Stucky x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, +18, threesome, DPs, super smutty

Author’s Note: Thanks to everyone for the great feedback! I’m going to be starting a tag list this weekend, so if you’re interested, please let me know!

* * *

It started as a simple recon mission in the woods in Northern Canada. They got into the bunker, extracted what little intel was to be found and headed for home. The suspected threats turned out to be greatly over-exaggerated, so the two old friends just decided to enjoy the road trip to a bigger city where Stark could send a plane.

Unfortunately, the sky decided to dump a season’s worth of snow all at once.  

They made it to a collection of log cabins, one seeming to be a lodge, before the roads became completely impassible. Inside they found the old couple who ran the lodge, their daughter-in-law and three grandkids. The son happened to be a long haul trucker out on a job. A handful of guest, locals who gathered for the storm. And a lovely bartender, you, who was the only one with a smile.  

“Well,” Steve turned off the power to his cell phone. “We’re stuck until the storm passes. They’re not going to drop in a jet if we’re not in danger.”

“Does being trapped with Boris Karloff and his uglier brothers count?” Bucky glanced over at three lanky, creepy looking guys sitting at the table in the corner.  

“That’s the Wilkins brothers.” You set down a tray with beer bottles and bar snacks. You slipped into the spare seat. “They live in a shack up here. Real reclusive. Frankly, they make me want to shower every time they look at me.” You cracked open one of the beers and took a swig. “The other’s aren’t so bad, though.”

“So,” Cap opened his own bottle and leaned back in his chair. “You don’t really seem to fit in. Why are you out here in the middle of nowhere?”

“Used to live in Chicago. High stress job, not enough money, too many people, way too much stress for a treadmill existence.” You smiled. “In the span of a couple months I lost my mom to an aneurysm, my brother to a motorcycle accident because he was a stupid shit and driving drunk, and my dad to a heart attack. He couldn’t take the loss. I was at work one day and just stopped. I looked around and thought, what the hell am I doing? I’m wasting the life I’ve got. So I packed up my suitcase, my cameras, and just started driving.”

“Cameras?” Bucky asked.

“I sell my photos. Nature, landscapes, wildlife. This place is amazing, when you can see through the snow storm.” You smiled at him. He was gorgeous. They both were. When Bucky’s smile widened, your mind swirled with so many dirty thoughts.

“You’re an artist, then.” Steve beamed at you too.  

“Yep.” You grinned, leaning forward. “So are you in this hole in the wall to save the world, or just find a warm spot?”

Bucky laughed. Steve looked sheepish.

“You got a warm spot for a couple road weary soldiers?” Bucky teased.  

Oh shit, the man had trouble written all over him. You wanted to climb him like a tree. “Oh, I’ve got a warm spot.”

The next few hours were spent talking, laughing, flirting. The snow got deeper and the rooms got colder. Eventually, everyone went to bed.  

* * *

You sat in the middle of your little bed, wrapped in a quilt. It was freezing. The old heaters couldn’t keep up. Beside being cold you couldn’t take your mind off the two sexy super soldiers sharing the only remaining guest room. It was over the unused dining room. They were probably colder in there than you were.  

Then again, you had a wicked idea to work up some body heat. It had been a while and you really wanted to get laid. They were both attractive, both flirted with you. You couldn’t tell who was more interested. What if…? A truly wicked image filled your mind. Oh, fuck, you’d always wanted…

You found yourself standing at their door, wearing nothing but a button up flannel nightshirt that barely covered your ass and a pair of cotton panties.  

Bucky opened the door, leaning against the frame, taking you in. “Hey, Doll. Come on in.”

“I just wanted to let you know the heaters are crapping out. So it’s going to get cold when we have to just rely on the fireplaces.” You rocked on you bare feet.  

“We’ll have to be sure not to freeze to death, then.” His blue eyes lit with mischief, and more than a little lust.  

“I can think of a way we can keep warm.” You grinned wickedly at Bucky.

“Well, Doll.” He ran his hands up and down your arms. His hands drifted over your shoulders, across your collarbone and down to top of your breasts. “I really like the sound of that, but I don’t think my buddy Steve would appreciated it much.”

Just over his shoulder Steve intensely stared at the two of you.

You reached up and pulled Bucky’s head down to yours, kissing him hard before breathing into his mouth. “Can he join us?”

Bucky’s eyes went wide for a moment before the corner of his lip twitched up. “That’s up to him.”

You took the few steps to Steve, his blue eyes gone dark. Touching his strong chest, shoulders, sharp jaw, you licked your lips. “Well? Do you want to fuck me, too?”

He swallowed, remaining silent. Steve’s eyes drifted past your mouth, down to your breasts. They flicked up to Bucky, but only for a moment. Finally, he took a deep breath and placed his hands on your shoulders, turning you towards Bucky.  

So much for fulfilling a dream.

Fingers grasped your hair and a strong hand came down with crack across your ass. You jumped. Yelped. When Steve’s bit down on your earlobe you moaned. “Oh, yes.”

Bucky peeled off his shirt as he came closer.  

Steve still held your head back, arm wrapped around you, jean clad erection now pressed to your ass. “You came on pretty strong, sweetheart. Are you really going to be a good girl for us?”

You moaned, nodding your head as much as his fisted hand would allow. God. This made you more turned than you could have ever imagined.

“We need to hear it.” Bucky cupped your breasts through your nightshirt. “This stops if you don’t use your words.”

“Yes. I’m going to be a very good girl.”  

“What is it that you want, Doll?” The cool metal fingers of his hand slipped along your cotton covered pussy.

“Tell us.” Steve rutted against your ass, hand on your belly holding you close.

“I want you to fuck me.” Your voice quivered with excitement. “Want you both. Now.”

Bucky’s hands tore open the buttons of your nightshirt, exposing your heaving chest. Both hands kneaded your tits, rolling your nipples under his thumbs. His mouth crashed into yours, messy and wet. You pulled at his hair. He groaned and pinched your hard buds, pulling on them almost painfully. You gasped.  

“Turn around, Doll.” Bucky bit your lower lip. “And put this gorgeous mouth on my pal’s cock.”

Behind you Steve had shed all his clothes. He was spectacular. “Holy shit.”

He cupped your face, kissing you thoroughly. Different than Bucky, still drinking you up and making you weak. Your fingers moved over taunt muscles. He was so solid. He growled when your hand wrapped around his amazing dick. Silk flesh over steel.  

He petted your hair as you tasted your way down his torso, tongue lapping at his abs, nose rubbing in the sprinkling of hair leading down from his navel. “Yes.” Steve breathed as you took him in your mouth. His girth forced your jaws open wide. You pumped your hand slowly up the base of him in time with your head.  

When you massages his balls he readjusted his feet allowing you better access. Your tongue swirled and licked. Slobber dribbled down, soaking your hand as well as his cock. You sucked and hummed. When you rubbed your saliva slicked knuckles into the spot just behind his sack, Steve’s hands gripped your hair.  

“Oh fuck. She’s good.” He panted.

“My turn.” Bucky growled pulling you away from Steve and to where he held out his thick cock for you. He was not as long, but thicker, heavier. As you fucked him with mouth and hands, he groaned. “Holy shit, Doll. So sweet.” His hands pulled your hair back. “Look at that filthy mouth. Gorgeous.”  

You felt strong hands graze over your ass, spreading you wide. “She’s glistening.” Steve purred. You hummed against Bucky’s cock when you felt Steve’s fingers slip inside your wet cunt. His the fingers of his other hand rubbed at your clit, then rolled it between forefinger and thumb. You shook, moaning hard.  

“Fuck. Do that again, Stevie.” He did and you quivered to your core. Bucky panted. “Fuck yes.”

“Bet she tastes good, too.” Steve rubbed right against your g spot, firm and steady. “Will come for me, beautiful?”  

Bucky pulled you away from him, manhandling you to the bed and throwing you down on your back. “Open up wide for my boy, here.” He smirked at your smile, lips wet and swollen. Your legs opened, exposing you to them both. Bucky slicked his fingers through your fold. “So, pretty.”  

He crawled up on his knee beside you, but your focus was on Steve who knelt between your legs. His fingertip spread you open and laid his flat tongue against you, licking you up. He hummed in pleasure. “You taste like heaven.”

Steve’s mouth sucked on your clit, flicking you with his tongue. His fingers buried in you again, calling you to come for him. You mewed, and whimpered. The tension centered in your core. Body writhing, your hands reached for whatever flesh you could reach.  

When Bucky’s mouth closed over your nipple and he began to pull at it with his teeth, you arched back with a cry. It was all so much, every nerve on fire, your approaching orgasm intense.  

“Hold still for us, Doll.” His metal hand closed around your throat, holding you down with pressure but not choking. Your eyes about rolled back. You never knew you like that before.  

“Yes, sir.” Your voice shook but you moaned, “Yes, more.”

Steve pushed you leg down harder, his mouth making you writhe. Bucky leaned over you, hand tightening. His other fingers pulling hard at your nipple. He licked your lower lip. “Come for us.”

You may have screamed into his mouth, coming apart violently.  

Boneless and breathing hard, Bucky lifted you up and onto Steve’s waiting cock where he now lay on his back. He slipped in, bottoming out, and flooding you with new sensations. His mouth devoured yours. You tasted yourself, felt the slick of your sex on his face. His hips jerked up into you, growling, “So tight, beautiful girl. Fuck you feel so good.”  

He suddenly lifted your hips, slipping out. You whined at the loss, but felt cool metal finger slip into you. Bucky captured your wetness, slicking you up. He finger rubbed around your ass, making you moan. His open mouth trailed kisses across your shoulder and neck.  

Steve filled you again. You rocked on him. His hands on you, everywhere. “Kiss me.”  

You leaned forward, laying on him and sharing wet kisses.  

Bucky’s finger slid past the tight pucker of your ass. You moved with him as he prepared you for his cock. The sensation was intoxicating. You felt another orgasm building, moaning into Steve’s kiss. When you felt Bucky push the head of his cock into you, you gasped.  

“Breathe. Just relax, Beautiful.” Steve nipped you lip and pulled at your nipple.

The initial pain vanished, leaving you overwhelmed. So full. Drowning in pleasure. “Oh god,” You panted. “Move, please. Fuck me.”

“Oh, shit.” Bucky growled out as he began to thrust. They moved in time with one another.  

“I’m going to come again.” You cried, eyes locking shut one hand clenched in Steve’s.  

Bucky pulled back on your hair. Steve’s hand closed around your throat. They arched you back like a bow. You squirted hard over Steve’s cock, body shaking with the most intense orgasm you’d ever had.  

“Fuck!” Steve’s hips slammed up into you faster. “I, ah, I’m…”

“Come for me.” You mewed, a sex drunk smile on your face, panting. The surge of another orgasm dancing on your nerves. “Fuck me hard. Fill me up. Both of you”

“Goddamn.” Bucky slammed into you. Both pounding hard. The bed creaking. Skin slapping. The most lewd and vulgar sounds filling the air. Bucky’s hips lost his rhythm. He growled, emptying himself.  

You cried out, coming again, in spasms.  

Bucky pulled away as Steve lifted you enough to pound his cock into you fast, mouth open, panting. “Ah, fuck, yes!” He came hard, holding your hips tight, buried deep.  

Laying across Steve’s body, you felt heavy and boneless. It took a while for your breath to calm down. Gentle hands rolled you onto your back. You opened your eyes to see Bucky leaning over you. His lips fell on your, slow and gentle.  

He pulled back and began gingerly cleaning your up with a warm washcloth. Steve nuzzled against your cheek, wanting a kiss of his own. He smiled, big and bright. Bucky stretched out on the other side of you, hand drawing lazy circles on you belly.  

You giggled.  

“What?” Bucky kissed your shoulder.

“I’m not cold anymore.”

You all laughed.  

Steve tossed a leg over yours “Well, it’s likely to cool off in the next day or two. Maybe you should stay close.”

“Maybe I’ll have to. I don’t think I can move.” You chuckled.

Bucky and Steve laughed again.  

They nestled you between them and you soon began to drift off, feeling utterly sated and safe. You were definitely warm buried between their strong bodies.

[crimsonbluemoon]

Working For Love: A TerrorMoo Story 10/17

OH MY GOD IF MY COMPUTER DELETES THIS ONE MORE TIME I WILL SCREAM.

Er.... I mean, enjoy this drabble?

Previous Part

Start from the beginning

Brian wasn’t a fan of surprises. 

He liked to be a part of them when the focus was others, but he never enjoyed when the attention was placed on him. Evan always claimed it was a control thing, and that it lead to Brian always taking initiative with his potential partners. He didn’t want to be thrown off his game, whether it was in his professional or romantic life. Brian picked the same times to run classes, looked at his lists a half hour before they were due to start, and never strayed from his guided plans once the class started. It was not only safer for his participants, but it kept the area calm and left Brian little to no chances of being left unsure of what to do next.

Unfortunately, nothing would have prepared him for how he’d felt when seeing Brock cry in the locker room the week before. Tears had looked so out of place filling the brown eyes when he’d stared at Brian, as if hoping Brian could fix all the broken parts inside him. Brian didn’t know what had cut Brock so deep, what had made him tremble under soft touches and feel unworthy of compassion. But it’d been an unpleasant weight in Brian’s chest that had lingered for days after. Brock had to take two days off from the gym because of his foot, but even when he’d come back, a somber aura had settled around his shoulders like a cloak. Brian did he best to cheer him up, and at times he’d catch the glimmer of his normal smile. But Brock still wasn’t fully happy, and it left a bitter taste in Brian’s mouth. 

And then, because the universe felt like he needed another swerve, Craig showed up to his morning yoga class.

“Hey, don’t blame me,” Mini had said when Brian had tossed a glare his way. “Ingrid seduced me with blueberry vodka smoothies; how could I say no?”

“Why do you still hang out with them?” Brian asked, Craig pressing his hand to his chest with a dramatic sigh.

“These are my people, Brian. They resonate with my old soul.”

“How are you friends with Brock?”

“You worried your lover boy’s gonna realize our love potential and let me whisk him away?” Craig raised his voice enough to catch some of the ladies' attention in the class, and Brian had to bite back a swear at their curious gazes. He loved his yoga classes, and he didn’t mind being friendly with the vocal older women. But there were times when their forwardness tended to be overwhelming, such as their desire to find him a wife. 

“Ladies, please start your first position. And you-” He pressed his finger into Craig’s chest, pushing him toward the corner of the room. “Don’t start shit.”

“I would never.” Innocence looked wrong on Mini, and the faux blinks of naivety he sent to Brian made his spine tingle in discomfort. His shoulders didn’t relax until Mini plopped himself down onto his mat, sending Wanda a shit-eating grin while sliding into the first pose. 

The class, for the most part, followed the normal routine. It left Brian with the calmness that he attributed to yoga, and his mind drifted back to Brock when moving into his seated position. His eyes stared down at his ankle in silence, remembering how warm Brock’s skin had been under his touch. But the memory, which should have been embarrassing or pleasant, was tinged with sadness at the thought of Brock’s trembles. Brock said he wasn’t okay, but what had made him feel like that? Despite getting to know Brock better with each month that passed, there were still parts of him that were a mystery. He rarely dabbled in the romantic side of Brock’s past, only knowing he was interested in men from mention of ex-boyfriends. Names and time frames were never introduced into the conversations, though Brian hadn’t brought up his own either. Still, to think that Brock had looked so broken because Brian had simply allowed him to be broken-

It made his nails dig into his calves, and he switched the position to keep from punching the mat in frustration. It took time to lower his anger, but he’d captured it back into his chest when finishing the final stretch of the routine. 

“And remember that when you do these moves at home, to have a flat surface to place your mat on. Otherwise, you’re at risk of hurting yourself.” The smile he pushed forward felt more real than it had any right to at the moment. “Any questions before we wrap up?”

“When are you going to ask that young man out?” Velma asked, blue tinged hair a curled mess above hawk-like eyes. Brian caught his jaw before it could fall open, any sense of fatigue from the week vanishing from his sudden spike of adrenaline. One glance around the room proved that Velma wasn’t the only interested participant in the conversation, none of the woman moving from their mats while staring him down. It didn’t take much to realize that the question hadn’t been sporadic, but pre-planned by the group to catch him off guard. 

God, Brian hated surprises. 

“I meant about the poses-” Brian tried to start, but Mini looked far too pleased when he cut in.

“Yeah, Brian, when you gonna make an honest man out of my best friend?” Brian’s eye twitched at the feline grin that tickled the edges of Mini’s lips, bright blue eyes glancing at the attentive women while he counted on his fingers. “They’ve been flirting for months, Brock’s been single well past the allowed time after a terrible break-up, and I think we’ve all discussed enough at our Saturday Smoothie Brunch how their chemistry is simply adorable. The problem is that we all know Brock’s far too shy to ask out Brian, so he’s gotta be the one to put on his big boy pants and do the work.” 

“What a sweet boy, that Brock is.” Ingrid sighed like she wanted to be in her twenties again simply to have a chance at Brock, and Brian wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh to smack his head into the wall. 

“And just a perfect match for our Brian,” Velma added, sending another pointed look toward Brian. 

“Why is this even a topic?” Brian blurted out, wondering when it was that Craig had hi-jacked his yoga class. He really needed to get Tyler to fuck Mini just to keep him out of his hair. The women hadn’t been this riled up since Brian had forgotten to wear boxers when running on the treadmill. 

“Well, isn’t that obvious?” Mini pulled his knees up in front of him to rest his chin on them, rolling his eyes to show how unimpressed he was with Brian’s arched eyebrow. “We want Brock to be happy again. You’re not the only one who cares around him.” 

“What?” Brian blinked, genuinely stunned at the collective nods that the women shared at the answer.

“He’s been so sad lately,” Wanda continued, the hot pink lipstick emphasizing her frown. “Normally, when I see him in the gym, he gives the warmest smile. It reminds me of how my Howie used to look when we were high school sweethearts, so bright and endearing. But this past week, that shine just...hasn’t been there. And we can see how that affects your, which means that both of our favorite boys are sad.” 

“The only time we get Brock to really smile is when you’re in his orbit. Even when I’m showering him with love at the apartment, it just doesn’t get the same reaction that you do.” For the first time since meeting Craig, his voice was lacking the confident bounce that was a staple of his character. The point he was trying to make was serious, and grabbed Brian’s attention. “Brock’s working through some stuff, and I’m going to respect him by not spilling it. But that doesn’t mean he has to be alone while he’s healing. If there was someone who helped the pain, someone who maybe would treat him right, then I’ll do whatever it takes to get that guy off his ass and make a move.” 

“The double dates between you and Tyler would be so cute with Brock and Brian.” Ingrid pinched Craig’s face affectionately, and he laughed through his pinkened cheeks. Brian, dumbfounded at how much energy the group had put into Brock’s happiness, made him sit back on his mat, hands falling limp in his lap. 

“You guys really think Brock would give us a shot?” 

“Honey, that man looks ready to marry you.” Wanda’s eyes held a haze of romance, and Brian felt his smile grow at her confidence in Brock’s feelings for him.

“And that’s before he knows what you’re like between the sheets,” Mini tossed out, snickering when Brian scoffed. 

“Then again, he was there during the treadmill incident; he’s got a very good idea what you’re working with. We all do.” Never too shy to say her peace, Velma gave a pointed glance to Brian’s crotch, the rest of the woman erupting into giggles and whistles. Brian’s shock was loud for a moment, but it fell to the side when he laughed, head shaking at the absurdity of his life. But one thing was sure; they were all right. Brian didn’t need to wait for Brock to be 100% to pursue him. Brock was great now. And if he never got better, Brian would still want him for as long as he could keep him. It was strange to feel so comfortable with his decision that had seemed so impossible an hour ago. 

But life was full of surprises, and not all of them were bad.

Hee hee Mini hanging out with dirty old women is just too funny not to put it. Okay, so! I actually had a ton of fun writing this one, and this little mini story is one of my favs so far. So like, reblog, and let me know what you think! <3

[caws5749]

Ch 2 “do you think she could become one of us?”

nat x young reader. avengers x reader. next part in the Your Red-Headed Mentor series. 

Prequel

Ch 1

Ch 3

When you woke up, it was still dark out. You couldn’t fall back asleep, and decided to head to the gym and workout. It was 6am, and you hoped you would have the gym to yourself. You changed into workout clothes Wanda had lent you and headed downstairs. 

No one else was in the gym, and you began to look around for certain machines and weights. You worked all of your muscles, before heading towards a punching bag. It was 7am when Natasha wandered into the gym.

“Oh, hey,” she said, her voice still hoarse from sleep. She was clearly surprised you were here. 

“Hey,” you responded, before turning back to your punching bag. She didn’t say anything else, but instead eyed you curiously for a moment, before beginning her workout. A while later, you moved to do some stretching, and she was finishing up her short morning workout. 

“I’m heading upstairs- breakfast is almost ready. You coming?” she asked. 

“Is it okay if I run for a short while before breakfast?” you questioned. She nodded and gave you a small smile. 

“See you up there,” she responded. You nodded, and moved to the treadmill. 

Natasha didn’t head straight upstairs though. She headed to the viewing room above the training area. Steve, who had been walking down the hallway, happened to see her, and went to stand by her. 

“What are you doing?” Steve asked. 

“Watching her,” Nat said, nodding towards you. “She trains harder than I did at her age.”

“Do you think she could become one of us?” Steve questioned. Natasha nodded. They left to head to the kitchen, you oblivious to their entire conversation.

You ran for fifteen minutes, and headed upstairs. Everyone greeted you as you entered the kitchen. 

“We saved you some breakfast before Clint could eat it all,” Tony joked. You laughed as Clint acted hurt. You grabbed the plate they had saved for you and joined them at the table, sitting beside Natasha. You listened to their conversations as you ate. 

“Do you want to train with us today? We’re doing something fun,” Natasha stated to you. 

“That sounds great,” you responded. If you had a chance to prove yourself to the Avengers, and train with the best, you were going to take it. Nat smiled, before telling you that everyone was going to meet in the gym at 1030. You nodded, before going to shower. 

“Do you need another set of workout clothes?” Wanda asked. You nodded sheepishly.

“If you have another set, that would be great. Sorry, these ones are kinda sweaty,” you said. 

“That’s okay,” she laughed. “I’m glad you got a good workout in this morning,” she smiled. You followed her to her room, and she gave you another set. You thanked her and headed to your room. You took your time showering, relishing in the warm water that the compound had. The Red Room only had freezing cold water, which effectively forced you to shower quickly. The compound bathroom was also large and made of beautiful marble. You felt like royalty. 

At 1015, you began to make your way down to the gym. You were excited, but honestly, pretty nervous. Sure you knew how to train, but you were training with the Avengers, which was something completely different entirely. You walked into the gym. 

“You’re early. I like it,” Steve said. You smiled at him. He was setting things up. 

“Do you want some help?” you asked. 

“Sure,” he replied. He instructed you on where to put things, and you got to work. 

“Oh, that’s pretty heavy, I forgot, I can get that,” he said, when you began to head towards something to move it. You tried to move it, curious, and found you could. 

“It’s okay, I’ve got it,” you replied, and continued moving it. He stared at you for  a moment, impressed. Maybe Nat’s right. This one’s got the potential to be a great asset to the team. 

The rest of the team slowly filed in. At 1030 sharp, Steve began to explain how the obstacle course was going to work. 

“Am I allowed to sabotage some of the team members?” Tony questioned. 

“Absolutely not Tony,” Steve scolded. “This is individual training but it’s also a tag team effort so you need to work with your team.” Tony sighed dramatically and muttered under his breath. 

“Okay everyone. You’ve got your teams. You know what to do. 3...2...1... go!” Steve shouted. 

You were on the team consisting of Natasha, Clint, and Wanda. The other team was composed of Tony, Vision, Sam, and Bucky. (When Steve had called out the teams, Clint had been very very wise to not bring up the fact that he was on a near all-girl team.)

Natasha and Bucky were going first. Nat was ahead of him, but not by very much. They raced through the course and back, Nat tagging Clint just seconds before Bucky tagged Sam. Sam beat Clint by a second, tagging Vision. A moment later, Wanda was catching up to Vision, and they raced through the course. They reached you and Tony at the same time, and you took off. Tony was right on your tail, but you loved running, and speed was definitely one of your strengths. He was stronger, but that didn’t slow you down too much. At the halfway point, you were about two seconds ahead, and determined to keep it that way. As you got closer to your team, you saw how they were cheering you on, calling your name and screaming words of encouragement. You had never had that in the Red Room, and it gave you a huge push of motivation. You sprinted harder, using every muscle in your body to push you through the last obstacles. You reached your team a full four seconds before Tony, and they were ecstatic. 

After receiving praise from them, and several high fives from everyone, you glanced at Steve, who was still away from the course. He was staring at you, impressed with what you had done. You blushed, meeting his gaze. It was becoming a little overwhelming. You hadn’t ever received this much praise by so many people, and you started wanting to disappear back to the room you were staying in. Steve, watching you like a hawk, could tell that it was becoming a bit much.

“Okay everyone, that’s enough. Hit the showers, and then it’s lunchtime,” Steve commanded. Everyone nodded, and followed his order. 

Two weeks later, you had become accustomed to how things were run in the compound. You had begun to get to know some of the Avengers a little bit, and were a little more comfortable now. You started to learn everyone’s routines, and had begun to develop one yourself. Today though, you quickly learned that your routine was going to be changed a bit. 

You entered the kitchen after your workout for breakfast. 

“Hey Y/N, I was thinking we could go shopping today. Wanda’s things fit you, but I think it’s time you get some of your own,” Natasha said thoughtfully, throwing you a smile. You nodded.

“Yeah that sounds good,” you replied. “I... I don’t have any money,” you murmured to Natasha. 

“It’s okay,” she reassured. “Tony will be paying for it.” You hummed and thanked Tony.

“No problem kid. Can’t have you wearing the same things every day that would be a fashion nightmare. It already is,” he joked. You chuckled and finished your breakfast. 

“I’m just going to shower real quick and then I’m ready,” you told Nat. She nodded. 

“I’ll be in the living room. Just head there when you’re done.”

You quickly showered and brushed through your hair, putting on a pair of Wanda’s leggings and a sweater, before heading to the living room. 

“All set? Let’s go,” Natasha said, before standing up. You followed her downstairs to the garage, where she grabbed her keys from the hook and climbed into her sports car. 

“Wow,” you muttered. 

“I like it too,” she chuckled. 

It was a twenty minute drive to the mall, and you loved every second of it. Nat liked to drive fast, and you could tell she loved the thrill. Honestly, so did you. Once getting there, she parked perfectly, and led you inside. You hadn’t really ever shopped before, and were a little nervous about it. Natasha led you into nearly every store there was, and managed to help you pick out some things you really liked. Most of the stuff you bought was workout gear, of course, but she made sure you had two pairs of jeans, and some nice tops and sweaters. She said that Tony threw lots of parties, and had you buy a couple of dresses for those. 

You were both beginning to grow tired, and she suggested you stop at the coffee shop in the mall. You both sat down with your mugs, and you noticed something was off. She was bouncing her foot ever so slightly and her lips were pursed. 

“Nat?” you questioned, finding yourself a little concerned. She hummed, before looking you in the eyes. 

“Y/N, I would like to officially ask you to join the team. Everyone is impressed with your abilities, and thinks you would be a great asset to the team. Plus, everyone enjoys your company too.” She paused, before asking, “Do you want to be an Avenger?”

You couldn’t think. You couldn’t see straight. That can’t be right. There’s no way the team wants you to join them. You weren’t qualified, you weren’t good enough. There’s no way you-

“Y/N?” Natasha interrupted your thoughts, brows furrowing in concern. You realized you were breathing quite fast, and tried to calm down. 

“Sorry,” you murmured. “Are you sure?” you asked. She looked at you, tilting her head. 

“Yes, I’m sure,” she answered. You nodded. 

“I want to join,” you said, still not believing it. She couldn’t stop the smile from forming on her lips. 

“Well then, I think we need to go shopping for decorations for your room,” she pondered. You thought you were going to faint.

“Don’t pass out on me. I don’t want to have to carry you around,” Natasha laughed. You blushed, before you both picked up all of the bags and headed to the car, discussing where you were going to shop next. 

After finding pieces for your room, you headed back to the compound. You lugged all the bags upstairs and dumped them in your room.

“You can put them away later. Right now, the team wants to talk to their newest member,” Nat said, smiling. You both headed to the kitchen, and joined the rest of the Avengers at the table. They had been waiting for you. 

“Alright squirt, we need to talk about some rules here,” Tony said. “Oh and uh congrats by the way.” The rest of the team cheered and hollered, making you blush. 

“Hey! We’ve gotta set rules!” Tony interrupted. Everyone listened after a little bit of scolding and got serious. 

“Curfew first,” Tony stated. 

“What he means is, you’re not over 18 yet, so we just need to make sure you’re safe,” Natasha interrupted. “And we are aware that you probably wouldn’t really be going out much anyway, but we just wanted to discuss it.” Tony nodded. 

“9pm,” Tony said. Clint swatted him.

“She’s not a grandma she doesn’t go to bed at 10!” Clint exclaimed. Wanda giggled, sending you an amused look. 

“Fine, midnight,” Tony huffed. Natasha and Steve nodded, content with the time set. 

“You have to ask before borrowing any of the cars,” Tony continued. 

“I can borrow a car?” you asked, shocked. At your face, Tony’s gaze softened. 

“Of course,” he replied. “As long as you ask,” he chuckled. You nodded, still blown away by everything that was happening. 

“That’s all we can think of right now. If we need to set some rules as we go, we’ll do that,” Steve added. You nodded. 

“Oh and you’ll be training with the whole team of course, but I will also be training you additionally,” Nat said. You nodded and sent her a soft smile. 

“Okay, let’s go help her unpack all of her new things,” Wanda said. You nodded, still smiling. Natasha, Wanda, and you all got up and headed out to the room that was now yours. 

“You better keep that room clean!” Tony yelled at your retreating figures. You all laughed, before discussing how you were going to arrange your room. 

Nat and Wanda helped you set everything up and put all of the clothes away. Wanda left to watch a movie with Vision before dinner, and Natasha grabbed you one of your new workout sets. 

“I’m going to train with you before dinner, okay?” You nodded, and went to go change. She told you to meet her in the gym in 15 minutes. You headed there early after changing to warm up with a quick run. Natasha entered and hummed, looking at your curiously. 

“Warmed up?” she questioned, chuckling softly. You nodded, before following her to a large sparring mat. 

“We’re going to spar first, so that I can really get an idea of how you were trained,” she instructed. You froze a bit, before nodding. You both took your places and began. She learned that you were quick on your feet, strategic, focused, and agile, though you could be cautious. You learned what her favorite go-to moves were, how she would sometimes step a little too far, and that she was extremely good at judging what your next move would be. 

“Can you teach me your signature move?” you questioned, out of breath. She nodded, and led you over to one of the dummies bolted to the floor. She carefully explained each part of the move, and you practice it slowly on the dummy. You were having some trouble and growing frustrated quickly. Natasha was watching you carefully, waiting to see if you would give up or get too angry. She was surprised when you regulated yourself, taking a deep breath and closing your eyes, before approaching the dummy a different way. 

“Y/N, you know it took me a while to really nail the move,” she said. “I think we’ve trained enough for today. You did well,” she praised. You smiled proudly, grateful for the praise. 

“Go wash up for dinner,” she instructed, before handing you a water bottle. You nodded and thanked her for training you. She gave you a curious glance, followed by a soft smile. 

You left, passing by Clint, who gave you a high five. He went into the gym. 

“How’d she do?” he asked Natasha. 

“She’s good. And not just at the physical stuff. She listens well and tries to figure things out on her own. She’s strategic and focused. She’ll do well,” Nat replied. “I am a little concerned though- she’s hard on herself. Too hard. I feel like that might get worse unless I do something,” she continued. Clint nodded thoughtfully. 

“You’re a good mentor,” he said, bumping his shoulder into hers. She looked at the ground, a soft smile on her lips. “If anyone can help her escape the horrors of where she was raised, it’s you.” She frowned at that, knowing just how many horrors you had faced. 

“Come on, you’re not going to help her by standing there frowning,” Clint joked. “Let’s let her pick the movie for movie night tonight.” She nodded, before chuckling. 

“It’s going to take her all of dinner to look through all the movies,” she grinned. 

“Well then she better get started,” Clint replied.  

[honestlyfrance]

Title: In the hangar

Square Filled: Training

Warnings: Light swearing

Summary:  There were more instances like these when their body proximity was bordering on questioning and head-butting, legs flying and swinging, face scrutinized, with a light sheen of sweat decorating their bare skin, clothes soaked in bodily fluids, and Wilson swore his lip throbbed at a sudden numbness but damn Barnes looked damn good looking at him like that and it’s getting hard to breathe when they’ve been doing this for— What? Two hours?

—

There’s an empty gym in the Avengers compound that stood in its lonesome on the vast field of a property this non-profit organization owns—it stood at a great height you wouldn’t be able to see the beams, and even then the wide skylight is lighting up the uneven floor; the hanging lights doubles as trapeze and the beams above was an obstacle course on its own; enough of that, the first uneven floor was full of weights, the second uneven floor was a treadmill course designed by the Avengers members to their weaknesses, and the third uneven floor was all mat and nothing else; the only entrance was the double doors ( if you call the skylight an exit, you’re a flyer ) and the east wing was a climbing wall full with different sized rocks and incredulous edges and turns, and the opposite wall was floor to ceiling mirror windows, showing the expanse and great distance of the field from the Avengers house. In all of this space you’d think it would be the most used, but no—the Avengers never dared to take it away from the few who sported in it, and even then the ones who do never really exercise or train much. 

These people’s definition of exercise and train were different from the rest of them.

Steve Rogers’s definition was: to eat as much as his metabolism is and to take on the punching bag as if he were to wake up and couldn’t go back to sleep.

Natasha Romanoff’s idea of train and exercise was: to read, a lot, especially people; there’s this certain tree in the woods where one would bring their rifle or handgun and fired at the same spot over and over again in different angles, distances, and positions until it has cleaned out a hole in the trunk. 

Bucky Barnes’s definition was scrutinized, nonetheless: to rest one’s mind, meaning, slack off as one can until someone asks to spar with you—only then one is exercised right after.

Sam Wilson’s definition: to run the distance between these distances at four in the morning for an hour, then to lift weights and bench press against an ungodly height on the climbing wall. 

Wilson’s definition seems more like training and exercise than three super-soldiers, and they have the right to question the only people who frequent the far away gym. Tony Stark has always wanted to create that space into some other useful thing, but even then, everyone agreed it was fun to bet on who would pin who first: Natasha or Barnes? Rogers isn’t happy with the fact they don’t bet on him, but there was a time that Rogers and Barnes sparred and Rogers barely even hit him ( Barnes annoyed him so much that Rogers cussed him out ). Wilson is still no-nonsense with his training, and Natasha spars with him; Stark doesn’t want to ruin Natasha’s fun. 

Two years later, Wilson’s sparring partner is leaving for some bullshitted vacation; Natasha sat him down and told him, “—I’ve accumulated so many vacation days that Tony won’t stop pestering me. I’ll be gone for five years at the most. Don’t miss me too much.“ 

"This about which?” Wilson had asked, his voice was so low and soft that Natasha almost backed away. They were in her room, only trusting Wilson to enter it unprompted with a few quiet people who wouldn’t take her trust as points. 

Natasha deadpanned. “I don’t know how to say it so gently." 

"I’m not going anywhere. Although, I have this thing later seven with Scott, so—you’ve got the whole dawn and afternoon with me." 

Covers my ass, Wilson cussed in his head as he stroked another kick to the punching bag enveloped in red energy being emitted by Wanda Maximoff who sat by the side, watching him with intent eyes. She hasn’t even told me her real last name.

"Romanova. It’s pretty obvious,” Wanda said, snapping Wilson to a complete stop. “Natasha is a diminutive of Natalia…” Wilson threw a strong punch and it made the punching bag fly at a high radius, making him turn around and lie down beside her as they waited for it to settle back down— again. “… or Natalie. I don’t know. It’s just basic Russian names.”

The double doors cracked open and made a sickening creak as it closed. Wilson and Wanda snapped to the doors to reveal Barnes jogging into the room with a duffel bag of his own, setting it on the few benches beside Wilson’s bag. Barnes nodded at them and gave them a small “Hey, Wanda. Sam.” and proceeded to scale the climbing wall without a harness, aiming to reach the harness Scott Lang left hanging in the air ( He shrunk himself mid-air and wanted to prove something to Rhodey ). Barnes wore a shirt and sweatpants, his hair cut short previously.

Things have changed since Natasha left the compound three months ago. 

Wilson sighed as he caught Wanda giving him a look, and no sooner had he heard in his head her voice: Him. 

Wilson swatted at her as he stood up. “Cooperate with me, Wanda.” He said as he began punching the sides of the punching bag, occasionally glancing at Barnes with Wanda; Barnes was halfway, and he’s breathing heavily as he rested there. 

“I don’t spar, Sam,” Wanda shoots him a look. “I do…” and she moves her hand to create a ball of power, striking to the punching bag to strike Wilson as hard as she could throw him across the room.

Wilson saw it and kicked it, immediately slowing it down—Another punch shook the chains and the punching bag began to slowly swing on its axis; left, right! He threw punches, then a left kick just to see it shake once more. Wanda wasn’t helping. 

Wanda scoffed. “I’m helping. I just don’t spar, and even then, I only know the basic punching and kicking." 

Wilson snickered as he caught the punching bag, holding it by its side as he swayed. "If that’s the only thing to know, you’re gonna meet your end punching and kicking." 

Wanda shrugged, smirking. "Good thing I have powers, huh? You only fly. ”

From across the room, Barnes cleared his throat to get their attention. Wanda and Wilson watched Barnes dangle from a height, the harness around the man’s waist and across his chest and hips, his feet locked down on two rocks as his body flipped over, his arms out in the open. Barnes said, “He’s also an expert in knife combat. Expect that bitch to enter a gunfight with a knife and leave with a gun.”

Wanda hummed in approval, nodding at Wilson. “Hey, that reminds me.”

Fucking ask him out, or I will. He smothers Natasha, just imagine him with you. Wanda’s voice echoed in Wilson’s head, urging him to groan as he cleared all thoughts from his head. I’ll ask him to be your sparring partner. 

The mental image of Barnes spinning Wilson down on the mat was enough to make Wanda laugh, her ringing delight echoing off the walls; the mental image in Wilson’s head was then distorted by Wanda, forcing Wilson to imagine Barnes and him, sweaty and panting in a silent and empty Gym at the middle of the night, moonlight streaming in, and Barnes mouths something like I—

Wilson screamed, “Fuck!” He hit the punching bag with all his might and watching the slow return of the dummy was already pushing right on the edge. Huffing in defeat, cursing under his breath, he turned around and watched Barnes hang at the top, Barnes’s forehead against the wall as he was now in a tight slant above him. 

Only one person knew that Wilson had this thing with Barnes, and of course it was going to be the one who can manipulate and read minds; Wanda made sure not to tell a soul, and she was successful at it, and she’s been an angel for him ever since Natasha left the compound. 

Watching Barnes then became a routine for Wilson and Wanda. Every day, Wilson and Wanda came over to the Gym to throw a few punches on “Ol Reliable Dummy” as Rogers affectionately called the lone punching bag on the third uneven floor, and Barnes, without fail, would come in after lunch to hang around on the climbing wall, standing on the wall as if he was Spider-Man, and Wilson would just stop and watch him, Wanda being the angel she is produced the mimicking the sound punches on leather so Barnes wouldn’t turn around. Even when the two did call out to Barnes, Barnes wouldn’t look back; he would just hang around, eyes closed, lips parted, and feel as if one were just floating in a pool. 

It was one chilly morning, before the break of dawn, that something changed in their routine.

Wilson was in his shorts and a sweater, jogging up and down the stairs as fast and quietly as he could; this was his usual warm-up exercise, yet he woke up earlier than usual, for the clocks read a quarter to three, and his drowsiness left him as soon as he read the time. There was no use to coming back to bed, but it will soon give him time to take that fifty-minute shower he always wanted to have after his training. 

After ten rounds on the stairs, he patted his sweat away with a towel, and with a water bottle in his hand ( the one he used to bring on late-night missions as the Falcon; the one in his room), the lights in the hallway began to light up the darkness of the floor. There was a whisper as if a female, saying: “Good morning, Captain Falcon,” and Wilson entered the elevator that would bring him a floor down, then he would take another hallway that leads to another building; the bridge was three floors high and lead to the labs.

Wilson tapped on the glass as he walked down the hallway, the lights automatically reacting to his body movement. “Morning Tony, Bruce, What time did you wake up this time?” He said, eyeing the two who were in their barest sleepwear, tinkering around on a table. He slowed down his pace to watch them for a moment.

“Just woke up,” Stark said, glancing up before putting on his goggles. “two hours ago maybe. You missed Bruce’s mess— It was amazing.”

Bruce Banner only groaned as he moved to another table where papers were spread about. Wilson nodded, humming. 

Wilson slowed to a jog as the automatic doors then led him to a barren hangar. He jogged down the winding staircase as he ran the expanse of the hangar as he waited for F.R.I.D.A.Y. to open up the grate, and he took a moment to breathe as it was halfway, watching the moonlight enter the dim area. He walked over outside and stood where the concrete and grass met, pulling his leg behind him as he said, “What time is it?" 

"Three-hundred, sir." 

"Shit, I’ve got time." 

He placed his water bottle down and started jogging towards the faraway gym that was on the horizon. F.R.I.D.A.Y. lit up the lights in the gym as well as the sprinklers around the area, and some more lights in the distance. He made sure to track his breathing, and to take slow breaths as he jogged at an easy pace, and before he knew it, he was on his third round.

As the open hangar was behind him at a far distant, Wilson yelled a series of profanities as he closed his eyes, heaving as he let the weight of stress relieve off him. Taking up the mantle of Captain America, in a world where Captain America was targeted by the government, was a painful experience that rejected everything Wilson thought was over for him. He had to listen to authority? Damn, sure, if it means regaining Steve Rogers’s name and image. He had to entertain press now? Alright, if it means gaining positive attention towards the Avengers. He had to limit his flying out of all things? Okay, if that means he can choose who could be on his team. It was difficult to say, and Wilson kept yelling as he ran now towards the gym, reaching it within seconds.

Wilson paced for a bit with his head in between his hands before kicking the dirt, all the rage pouring out on him in a series of actions. He then begins to spar some imaginary figure, twisting and turning as he threw a series of kicks and intricate knife handling. There was a moment he pulled out his four-inch knife out of his thigh holster and proceeding to maim the air, flipping and throwing it around, slicing and attacking whatever pressure he had on his shoulders. 

He lied down on the dewy grass as the image of sparring with someone popped in his head with a recognizable face—it was Natasha, sue him; she was the one who taught him the additional knife techniques he’s accumulated, as well as the martial arts and taekwondo she urged to teach him. Trust me. You need it. Ah, he could still hear her cocky voice.

He then started his journey back to the hangar, committed on continuing his one-hour jogging in the field, but when the sight of the hangar came to view, with the lights inside bright with an orange tinge, and the sound of classical music bellowing and echoing within, Sam slowed down to a walk as his eyebrows knitted in confusion. 

No one used that hangar, as far as he was concerned. If anything, it was just an excuse for the mechanics to have their lab on the second floor where they can see the expanse of the field and horizon. When he came closer, there was a small speaker in the middle of the room, and there was the music coming from. Sam barely approached it, stopping below the grate as his head jerked towards the doorway above the staircase. 

Barnes stopped before a moment, his eyes widening at the sight of the man on the ground, not recognizing him at first but gaping once Barnes recalled Stark and Banner’s warning. "It’s you,” Barnes said.

Wilson was about to yell how he was the one with the rights to use the hangar, seeing that no one was using it, but now he remembers the unusual routine he fell upon. He didn’t usually wave at Stark and Banner, it was usually waving at two giant ants who roamed around the Lang Laboratory as guards—

“Shit. I took the wrong hallway,” Wilson groaned as he turned away from Barnes, massaging his temple. 

Barnes barked out laughter, his steps echoing in the barren vastness as he walked down the stairs, two mugs in his hands. “Yeah, well good thing Stark warned me, or else I wouldn’t have brought you your coffee. I know how much you hate to miss it on the counter,” he said, walking briskly towards the man as he, too, began to walk towards him until they were now in the middle of the hangar. “so… I, uh, brought it here.”

“What are you doing here?” Wilson asked, taking the mug off his hands.

Barnes shrugged. “I don’t know, I usually stargaze but you’re on my path.”

It made sense now. The faraway lights, making Wilson wonder why it was darker than usual, and the sprinklers being the only sound in the night, it was perfect for stargazing. Wilson shifted his weight as he sipped his coffee, eyes settling Barnes with a raised eyebrow.

Barnes stuttered for a moment. “Um, I-I, also, I, uh, sometimes…” he raised an eyebrow, “dance?” his eyebrows furrowed as if he was confused by his own words. “with Tasha? But, she’s been gone, so, I just entertain myself with climbing, you know." 

Wilson raised his eyebrows, lowering his mug. "I didn’t know you two knew how to dance. What do you do? Ballet? She said she used to dance.”

“Yes, yes,” Barnes chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “It was all we knew… since, um,” he lowered his gaze towards the ground, but Wilson still saw his faraway gaze. “Well, anyway, she’s left, and with that my partner." 

"Sucks, right? She used to train with me and now I got an idle punching bag who doesn’t know how to miss a kick,” Wilson snorted, and Barnes was much more relaxed after that. 

“Sucks, yeah. She was the one who usually led, and sometimes she’d bring in training— punching and kicking me as I try to miss— She’s really…" 

"Caring,” Wilson shrugged, finishing Barnes’s sentence for him. “One could say she’s unnecessary, but really, her lessons saved me on missions.”

“My lessons,” Barnes whispered, but it echoed in the hangar. “I taught her before…”

Wilson nodded, understanding full well where that came from. Wilson took a step back after realizing he knew more of Barnes than the woman Wilson knew more than five years; it was only a year from where they stood, and Wilson felt like screaming. 

“You know a lot about knife handling, hmm,” Wilson murmured, but the proximity between them allowed them to hear the other loud and clear. “Can you teach a few tricks?”

Barnes glanced at Wilson’s eyes and saw the glint, straightening his posture as he looked him in the eye. “You flexible? My partners usually are, and that’s best to work with.”

Wilson nodded, cracking a grin. “Don’t underestimate me, James, I took up ballet too when I was young,” he moved aside and set his mug beside the speaker before crossing his ankles and spread his arms.

Barnes scoffed, turning around with a smile that made Wilson’s eyes glint. “Oh, is that so? I gotta bring you to size then—” he made his way towards Wilson, placing his foot firmly into place as the other gently pointed itself to the ground; Barnes held Wilson’s hand in his as he wormed his arm around his waist, smirking. “—I’m a great dancer before HYDRA taught me ballet, I used to dance every night or so, with a date or two or such." 

Wilson hummed, gazing into Barnes’s blue eyes, in search of something. "You have a knife on you?" 

Barnes winked. "Didn’t see my belt, I see?”

“A belt? I thought you’d have a thigh holster.”

“A holster? You— I— How’d you hide a thigh holster on you?”

Wilson kicked Barnes in the balls and twisted the arm he held behind the man’s back, pushing him down by the shoulder with a foot, flipping out his knife and bringing it to his neck, Barnes still recovering from doubling over. 

“Like this, baby,” Wilson mocked. 

Barnes kicked Wilson from behind, pulling out his knife from his body; Wilson saw it but was distracted. Barnes stood up and kicked Wilson in his side, throwing him over and making him land on his bottom as he slid, his knife leaving his person.

Wilson grunted as he caught himself, looking up at Barnes with a menacing grin; Barnes crossed his ankles and bowed. “Finally, someone who doesn’t hold back,” he said. 

Barnes licked his lips. “You still have to dance with me, αγαπώ,” and there was a chill running down Wilson’s spine as he heard Love form from Barnes’s raspy voice.

“Let’s dance, Soldat.”

The two waited for the music, holding each other’s hand and a hand on the waist and shoulder, feet in a firm position, bodies aching to pin the other one down. 

“What time is it.”

“Shut up, Sam, and dance.”

Barnes threw a punch at Wilson’s abdomen, doubling him over; Barnes pulled out his knife only for Wilson to block it with two hands, then kicking him in his inner thigh, turning to kick him once more. A flash of punching and kicking commenced between them, both laughing and grinning at the other’s baffling speed and agility.

There was a point when Barnes twisted a leg to kick Wilson only for him to use it to support himself as he climbed on Wilson’s shoulders, making the man drop to the floor due to the weight; Barnes then took the opportunity to take the other man’s knife, turning on his back so Wilson’s head rested on his stomach, his right leg hooked under Wilson’s chin to choke him; Wilson only hit the leg several times until he patted abruptly, declaring Barnes the winner. 

Wilson also liked to confuse Barnes, knowing full well the man analyzes past combat sequences to execute the proper routine, Wilson charged at Barnes, shielding himself as Rogers does, then Barnes would mistakenly throw a metal punch, only for Wilson to catch his fist, twist it, knee t upward which would revibrate a satisfying riiiiing; Barnes who is still washed with worry and concern over Wilson would be caught off guard to Wilson’s sudden elbow at the face, the chest, and the abdomen, successfully disabling Barnes as he left the heaving man dropped lazily on the fall with a bewildered look. Barnes would say something under his breath before being helped up by Wilson, and they’d pose as if nothing had happened. 

There were more instances like these when their body proximity was bordering on questioning and head-butting, legs flying and swinging, face scrutinized, with a light sheen of sweat decorating their bare skin, clothes soaked in bodily fluids, and Wilson swore his lip throbbed at a sudden numbness but damn Barnes looked damn good looking at him like that and it’s getting hard to breathe when they’ve been doing this for— What? Two hours?

Barnes swung two opposite punches to Wilson who shielded himself as he took steps back; Wilson crouched and swung a leg at Barnes who jumped over it and kneed the other in the right abdomen; Wilson doubled over and Barnes took hold of his neck and gripped it there, bringing their faces close— One showed a subtle face gleaming with victory and worry while the other grunted and spat the other in the face. Barnes loosened his grip on Wilson and wiped his face.

“Aw, man, c’mon,” Barnes spoke; Wilson upper-punched him in the stomach, pulled on his flesh arm, pinned him down to lie on their stomachs, Wilson flattened on Barnes’s back and the other made no move to fight back.

“What, sleepy-head,” Wilson heaved as he caught sight of Barnes sly grin tugging at the corner of his flushed lips. “What’s so funny? Your pain, or your shame?”

Barnes took a moment to soak up Wilson’s weight, to look the other in the eyes and let themselves relax at the moment that they lead themselves into, saying: “What can’t you do? You’re impossibly unstoppable, Cap, look at you—”

Wilson immediately stood up, taking a few steps away as he set his hands on his waist. “No. Let’s go— You tired? We can take a break, jackass,” he crossed his foot behind the other anyway, his chin raised high as his eyes scanned the ceiling of the hangar. There were faint crickets in the background, and the music leveled down and seemed to finally stabilize in his ears; the sky was still dark however, and Wilson’s mind seemed to calm down. “Come on—” Wilson spread his arms with palms raised to the sky, his eyes clenched closed, trying to relax his nerves. “—Take me.”

Wilson didn’t feel Barnes’s person in the room, and he almost let himself resign in the fact that the other would eventually leave him.

Barnes’s body was pressed against Wilson’s, taking the Falcon’s hands in his own, and bringing them close to his chest. Wilson shakily exhaled all the stress of the previous months before exiting his body little by little, his body frigid and cold like a stone, eyes refusing to open in fear of seeing something he wouldn’t like. Or wouldn’t like to believe it was real. Barnes was not a vocal person, so when Barnes had spread their arms once again, turning Wilson gracefully to face each other, their faces barely centimeters away, Wilson knew that the air between them spoke enough of what was needed to be said.

Barnes pulled Wilson close and closed the proximity between their chests, left hands intertwined and the right tightly around the other’s waist, doing everything so wrong but it felt right at the moment; they didn’t dance entirely, neither one swaying to the soft melody of a piano, a violin the background maybe, they couldn’t decide, nor could they decide to listen fervently to the noise of the night.

“Sam.”

Wilson had his eyes opened, dry and tearing at how long he stared at the floor behind Barnes; he blinked several times, getting his senses back together. “I’m here,” he whispered.

“Okay.”

They let their muscles relax for a moment, their hearts as well, in the arms of the other. They could do it the next morning; they have the rest of their lives to dance and be together.