#“this doesn't have to end in a fight Buck” “it always ends in a fight” poor kitty is covered is scars. he's just trying to survive

[hurtspideyparker]

Bucky Barnes in Civil War is in pure survival mode; he's a house cat who's been lost on the streets and gone feral. Steve is reaching out a palm to bring him home but there are dogs barking and cars honking and a stranger is walking too close. He runs. It always ends in a fight

[alchemistc]

everything you want is on the other side

Buck slides a beer Tommy's way and fights the urge to duck his head. "So, I just thought, maybe, if you wanted to, we could -."

"I'm seeing someone," Tommy says, and blinks, and stares at the label of his bottle.

"Oh," Buck says, and shoves the hurt down deep where it won't inconvenience anyone. That's - it's been - been longer than they were ever together, hasn't it? And, yeah, after that comment in the helicopter maybe Buck had had this expectation that Tommy would wait for him, but that wasn't fair to assume, was it? It's - they're - "I... I'm happy for you."

Tommy gives him a strange look.

"We - is friends an option on the table though? Like, is your ex being around going to screw that up for you?"

Tommy snorts, derisively, and Buck thinks - okay then.

He'd avoided Buck plenty well before, so Buck doesn't really know why he'd have agreed to come out for drinks with him if that wasn't in the table. Maybe this is just - a clean break. They never really got there, until now.

There'd been a sunny afternoon, a few months in, where Tommy had taken him out to a stretch of beach and tossed a football back and forth with him for an hour, the both of them getting progressively sweatier and progressively more horny every time they caught the other checking them out, and Buck had thought to himself - I don't do this with any of my friends. Just - out and about enjoying the day and fucking around for the hell of it, and he'd been so caught up in the idea that Tommy could be a friend as well as a lover that he'd - he'd started picturing it.

A life. Shared, in all the ways that mattered. Holding hands on the beach and smiling at each other in the surf. Teasing one another about the silliest things, too many inside jokes to count, making Tommy laugh and laugh and laugh.

He'd never let it go farther than that. Hazy edges of a home filled with filmy curtains and Tommy's insane DVD collection got shoved away, like pulling back the curtain was just asking for disaster.

Being taken care of, when things weren't easy, when one of them was pissed, when everything was perfect other than a flare up in his leg.

He'd always thought they were on the same page and never bothered to ask if they were reading the same book.

Tommy's was a tragedy, in three parts.

Buck's was a fluffy short story, all purple prose and gratuitous overindulgence, with a kick-your-teeth-in surprise unhappy ending.

So. So now someone else gets the Tommy experience.

He's irrationally annoyed they won't appreciate it. He's insanely jealous by the idea of them appreciating it better than he ever did.

"He - do you want to tell me about him?"

Tommy's brows knit. "Well, he has me doing homework, which I don't love."

Buck lets the words work through him, over him. Younger, again? Like Tommy has a type, and that, for some reason, grinds Buck's gears. Or is that some sort of euphemism for -

"And part of the syllabus was talking to the people who scare me about the things that scare me."

And that sounds like -

"Shilling out all this money out of pocket so the Chief doesn't know I'm a basket case and the first thing he has me do is confront fear like that's not the damn foundation keeping me standing."

Buck picks at his coaster.

Tommy clocks the move and stills, glancing up at him, startled. "You thought I meant -."

"Yeah."

Tommy's hand shifts away from his beer, towards Buck's, before he aborts, spreading fingers against the sticky two-top they'd snagged from a couple who barely glanced at them as they threw on their coats, too starry-eyed in lust to notice the two burly men who'd been lingering by the bar waiting for a table to open up. He couldn't blame them. They'd been right there, obsessed with the way it felt to be naked together in all the ways except the ones that mattered, to get lost in the slide of skin and the feel of tongues sliding together, bodies shifting into one another.

Buck does the scariest thing he can think of. He looks up, and rolls a hand away from his own bottle. Palm up, fingers loose, crawling two inches forward.

His heart is somewhere in his throat and he doesn't look away when Tommy blinks at the extended hand. "I scare you?" Buck asks, and Tommy leans forward to knit their fingers together.

"You scare the everliving shit out of me, Evan."

They didn't really talk, the way they should have.

If Buck has to think back on that day at the beach, with the wind turning Tommy's loose curls into a vortex atop his head, with the tide licking at their ankles, with the ridges of the football grooving into Buck's palm - they'd flirted, and had a surface level conversation over the sounds of a pair of five-year-olds screaming their lungs out as they tried to fill a hole they'd dug in the sand with buckets and buckets and buckets of water that was gone each time they made it back from the surf with a new pail-ful of ocean.

The kids hadn't even cared that their hole never held any of that water in. They'd just been thrilled to pour another bucket full of water in, the sand drinking it all up.

"You never scared me," Buck admits, and hates the way something sad flickers behind Tommy's eyes, because he's spent enough time doing postmortem on their relationship to have an idea about why that would hurt Tommy. "That - it meant a lot, to me, that I always felt so solid with you. That I never had to question..."

Tommy's smile pulls at something deep in his gut. It's not a happy smile, it's the kind with broken glass hiding beneath the surface, ready to slice and bleed in an irreparable way.

"And then I ripped the rug out," Tommy says. It's his judgy tone, the one Buck always hated to hear him use on himself. The one he'd used a lot more than Buck had wanted to notice, at the time.

"I didn't exactly make a good case for myself," Buck tells him, and Tommy squeezes his hand.

"Larry says I let the fear take the cyclic nine times out of ten."

Larry's a weird fucking name for a therapist, Buck doesn't say. "That is not the way he said that," Buck actually says, and Tommy glances up from behind his lashes, the skin on one side of his mouth dimpling.

On early mornings in a bunk when he couldn't sleep after a shitty call, he'd sometimes imagined what those devastating smile lines would look like as the skin around the muscle got thinner, less buoyant. What the specks of grey in his high and tight fade would look like as they became more prominent.

"We workshopped a way to paraphrase it without tearing my own hair out."

"Why are you going to therapy, Tommy?"

The hand squeezing his tightens like a vice.

"Because you scare the everliving shit out of me," Tommy says, amusement in his tone even though his eyes are swimming with unshed tears. "And I'm tired of either of us thinking that doesn't mean something."

"You can't use me as an excuse instead of admitting you're a little messed up in the head."

Tommy's laugh sticks in his throat somewhere, Adams apple bobbing. "That's what Larry said, too."

He tries to picture Tommy in a room with soft lighting, vaguely comfortable seating, a stress ball he could flick between his enormous hands because he has to be fiddling with something at all times or he goes a little crazy - toe tapping or knee jumping while he flexes his palms against his thighs. Larry probably has a field day taking notes of all the ways Tommy stims to make himself feel like a person.

"So...what does that mean?"

He looks like he wants to bolt. It's such a stark contrast - the way he always made sure Buck was the most comfortable he could possibly be and the way he always had his muscles braced for flight.

"It means I can't shake you. Means every time I had a foot out the door the other one was digging in on the other side of the frame. Means I..." Tommy shifts, again, pushes the beer off to the side to reach out and wrap his other hand around their clasped hands. "Means I still don't know what the fuck is wrong with me but I'm hoping you have the patience to be there while I figure it out."

"As...as what, exactly?"

He's scared of the answer, he realizes. Scared that Tommy thinks he's too messed up to - to be with someone. Scared that what Tommy needs is something he's screwed up so many times he's barely spoken to his best friend without a fight in months.

He's scared.

Oh.

Oh, he's scared.

Scared of trying to fill a hole in the sand with briney water.

"I'm a terrible friend," Tommy intones, voice soft, lower lip tucked beneath his teeth. "Think I could have been a better boyfriend."

"You were the best boyfriend," Buck says, a little offended on his behalf, but he's not - he's not wrong. They were so caught up in the being together part that they never figured out what they were trying to do with it.

"I was very good at pretending I didn't want more from you than you were giving me."

It looks like it hurts him at least half as much to say as it does for Buck to hear it. He swallows around a suddenly tight throat. "Will you - can you tell me what you wanted?"

Tommy's face goes through a series of expressions. Lands somewhere between terrified and determined. "Fair warning, I still want them."

Something warm and careful curls up and purrs beneath his ribcage. He's scared. They both are.

That means something.

"Don't try to reassure me if it gets scary," Buck says, and Tommy chokes out a phlegmy laugh, takes a stuttering breath, and lets loose.

---

"Evan."

Buck blinks awake, and rolls his eyes blearily until he catches sight of Tommy, kneeling over him on the bed.

The look on his face has Buck scrambling to wakefulness, and Tommy looks guilty, for a moment, before he tamps it down. "Its okay. I'm okay."

It's -Buck darts a look at the trusty alarm clock he's had at his bedside since the first time he slept through five alarms on his phone - three in the morning and when they spoke on the phone earlier tonight Tommy made it clear he had too much going on tomorrow to make the drive to Buck's. So. Not okay.

"Fine, I'm not - I'm in one piece," Tommy admits. He looks wrung out, exhausted. Something must have happened in the six hours Buck's been sleeping, because he was having a killer shift when they left off for the night. He'd been excited about having to execute some slick maneuver during that high rise fire downtown.

Buck goes to work unbuttoning Tommy's jeans. He leaves his shoes by the door, every time he uses the key Buck gave him three months ago (his heart in his throat, nerves making the words more difficult than they should have been) so the pants come off without a struggle, and then Tommy's whisking his shirt over his head, and he's bare and antsy as he stares at Buck, shifting on his heels. "Big spoon or little spoon?" Buck asks, and something in Tommy stills, the frantic energy bleeding out of him like that question debrided the layer of skin over the blister that is his mental state at this moment in time.

Tommy climbs over him to get to his side of the bed. "Little," he murmurs, already turning to show Buck his back, and around the quiet maneuvering of the duvet Buck gathers him up, gathers him in, an arm under the pillow and his hand spread wide across Tommy's chest.

He'll talk about it when he's ready.

Or Buck will have to do the work and force it out of him, later. Larry says Buck needs to push more than he does and fuck anyone who tells him he's making it about himself.

Larry's kind of an asshole. He doesn't join Tommy very often, but when he does he gets why Tommy keeps going back. It's not the right style for Buck, one-on-one. But he sure does know how to get his point across.

Tommy's got more freckles on his shoulders from helping Buck put together a new garden bed out in the yard three days ago, a kink in his neck from taking a dive playing volleyball on the beach last week.

("We won, didn't we?"

"And now Mr. Side Sleeper won't be able to find a comfortable position for a month."

"Next time I'll let Ravi and Lucy crow about beating us for the rest of our lives.").

"I want kids," Tommy says, out of nowhere, swinging his ass back into the cradle of Buck's pelvis, like he doesn't feel quite close enough to Buck, yet. Buck tightens his hold. "I know we haven't talked about it. Figured it was pretty obvious what your opinion on the matter was."

A barbeque, three months into them trying again, Chris trying to get his attention while he had Robert spitting up on his shoulder and Jee throwing a tantrum about not being the center of attention - when Tommy had swooped in with the assist, yanking Jee up onto his knee to distract her and smiling at a grateful looking Christopher. Buck had stared at him for the entirety of Chris's breakdown of the latest exhibit at the MOMA while the want threatened to swallow him whole.

He hadn't bothered to ask how Tommy had managed to turn that tantrum around so quickly.

There's still so much they don't know about each other.

They're getting the hang of asking now. Telling. Listening. Pushing through the terror of an assumption.

"There was a couple, my last flight. Broken ankle and some scrapes and bruises up in Runyon. Pregnant woman married to an idiot of a man."

Buck hums.

"Guy decided three hundred yards up the trail to let his wife know he never wanted kids."

"Sounds like a nightmare."

"Garret had to strap him down and they still managed to argue themselves hoarse before we made it to the hospital. And I just got to thinking - if I don't tell you shit, you can't read my damn mind and ferret it out. I don't want to be a decrepit old man when our kids graduate high school."

Our kids kind of kicks him in the solar plexus, but he lets it bruise over, for the time being. "You're gonna be built like a brick shithouse when you're eighty, shut up."

Tommy chuckles. Sighs, and tips his head back. "I had a panic attack in the truck because I don't want them without you and I never asked."

Buck presses a kiss to his temple. Another to a new spray of freckles on his neck.

"I get to be the bad cop dad."

Tommy snorts, and snuggles in a little bit more. "Like that was ever a question, I'm gonna be the biggest pushover this side of the Mississippi." He's quiet, for a long, long moment. A hand settles over top of Buck's. "Not now. But I want to - talk about it. Figure out the options."

Kam's been bugging him about the viability of her womb in the most graphic way possible since she met Tommy once, six months ago. So that - that's an option. Maybe.

If they decide on something soon.

They don't even live together. Technically.

"Larry's gonna have a field day with this one," Tommy says, and Buck tucks his nose into the hair at the back of Tommy's head.

"You want me to go?"

"No. I'll tell you, after, but. No, this is a Tommy Special."

"Your dad?"

"My father. My mom. Three uncles and twenty shitty captains and - and Bobby."

The sting is the same as always. He just found a place to store the pain.

"Is this a tarp in the hole situation, or do you think you can put the bucket away?"

Tommy groans. "You know I hate it when you and Larry come up with convoluted metaphor."

His breathing is evening out. The hand over Buck's isn't shaking, anymore.

"You're gonna be a stupid good dad," Buck tells him, and doesn't mind so much when Tommy's lifts up his hand to press a kiss to his knuckles and they come back wet with tears.

[eddiazx]

ablaze in the ambulance - eddie diaz x reader

"Eddie. Eddie, come on!" You call out.

The man in question doesn't look back; in fact, you're pretty sure he walks away even faster from you.

You knew he was pissed. You knew that he would be when you ran into the burning building without calling for backup. But you got out of there safely, a 7-year-old kid named Leo safely in your arms, without so much as a scratch on either one of you. Bobby had been exasperated, but ultimately he put a hand on your shoulder before giving you a stern "don't do that again."

Now, if only your boyfriend could give you the same grace.

You watch him walk into the ambulance once everyone is back at the firehouse, shutting the doors behind him with a slam. Buck, Chim, Hen, and Bobby give you small, sympathetic smiles, telling you they were going to hit the showers before getting started on supper.

You watch them disappear upstairs, before taking a deep breath, and walking into the ambulance.

Eddie doesn't look up when you step in. Instead, he continues to take inventory of the gauze and bandages. You can practically see the cartoon-like fumes radiating off of him.

"Eddie." You say softly.

He looks up then, his stormy brown eyes piercing through you, but still doesn't utter a word.

"I'm sorry." You try again.

"Are you, though? Because I feel like you would do it again in a heartbeat." Eddie spits out, and you would've winced at his anger if you didn't hear the crack of his voice, vulnerability pronouncing the end of his sentence.

"I would." You respond, truthfully. "But I am sorry I worried you."

"Worried." Eddie huffs out an unamused laugh. "I was terrified. I thought that would be the last time I saw you! I thought you had died!"

"Eddie." You brave a few steps until you're standing barely an inch away from him. "I will always fight to come home to you, to my family."

Eddie's face softens, listening to the words he has said multiple times to Chris and you, now directed back at him. He puts his hand on the back of your neck, pulling your face towards his. The kiss is hard, uncoordinated and messy, but passionate and raw nonetheless.

You reach down blindly in between kisses to unbuckle Eddie's belt as he brings one of his hands to grab your ass, massaging the skin through your pants, while he uses his other hand to pull your shirt up to touch skin.

Meanwhile, Chim and Hen look down forlornly from the loft railing to a rocking ambulance.

"Did they really have to pick the ambulance to make up in?"

[newobsessionweekly]

The Rookie Masterlist

Tim Bradford

One shots

You will always be my boot

The one where you return home and Tim waits for you all these years.

To protect and to love

The one where you unintentionally make Tim jealous and it ends up with nothing good but a confession.

Stolen moments

The one where you and Tim can't have a moment for yourselves.

Secret signals

The one where you didn't know your best friend feels the same way about you.

A night to remember (Secret signals pt. 2)

The one where you find out your best friend feels the same way about you.

She's my wife

The one where Lucy finds out you are Tim's wife.

She's my wife (part 2) (coming soon)

The one where everyone finds out it's not the right thing to mess with Tim's pregnant wife.

Lost and found

The one where Tim confessed during a nearly-dead experience.

Breaking boundaries

The one where you are Sergeant Grey's daughter and dating Tim.

Long sleeves

The one where Tim is replacing your TO for the day and he doesn't hesitate to give you a hard time. But in the end it's worth it.

Rays of hope

The one where your son is kidnapped and you and your husband, Tim, do everything you can to get him back.

Broken Blue

The one where you and Tim fight, leaving him after his words are too harsh. Despite his attempts to make things better, your stubbornness wins until an accident forces you to realise you need Tim and love him, more than you want to admit.

Let me fix this

The one where you meet Tim again on his first day at Metro, two years after he broke up with you.

Matchmaking

The one where you and Tim turn everything into a competition, including hiding your feelings.

Puppy

The one where you visit Tim at the station and you are way too nice to a teenager he just arrested.

Fire and fight (Buckley!reader)

The one where Tim finds out about the illegal fight and the complicity of your brother, Buck and your best friend, Eddie.

Series

The rules are made to be broken Series (18+)

The rules are made to be broken

The one where you and Tim are friends with benefits and establish 7 rules for your special friendship.

One rule down

The one where Tim breaks one rule after you got hurt on a call.

Three rules down (coming soon)

The one where you break two more rules after you meet someone at the bar.

Five rules down (coming soon)

The one where you and Tim break two more rules when you got caught after an intense shower at the station.

Six rules down (coming soon)

The one where you and Tim break one more rule after catching feelings for each other.

One rule standing (coming soon)

The one where you and Tim manage to keep one of the 7 rules.

Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue Series

Something old

The one where you and Tim have been best friends for as long as you can remember, but that friendship tore apart when you caught feelings for him and Tim tells you he wants to propose to Lucy.

Something new

The one where Tim's confession about his feelings for you changed everything and made room for something new between you.

Something borrowed (coming soon)

The one where you are there for Tim when he needs you the most and he borrows you his favourite LAPD t-shirt.

Something blue (coming soon)

The one where you and Tim have an official first date and you gift each other something blue to shield your relationship from harm.

Crossovers

The Rookie x 911

Under the radar (Buck x Bradford!reader)

The one where your brother, Tim, finds out you're dating Buck in a not so pleasant way.

Diamonds and dreams (Tim x Buckley!reader)

The one where Tim, your boyfriend, teams up with your brother Buck and plan a proposal.

Fire and Fight ( Tim x Buckley!reader)

The one where Tim finds out about the illegal fight and the complicity of your brother, Buck and your best friend, Eddie.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Stitched Together

Fandom: Marvel (Mob Boss AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky used to be so in love and so... ignorant of the roles you had to play, which lead to you breaking up. But that didn't seem to keep you away from each other since you now act as Bucky's nurse whenever he gets hurt.

A/N: Based off my mini fic here.

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

You were used to it by now. In the morning, you'd go into work at the hospital. The pediatrics unit was filled with light and color. You made sure to bring as much joy and light into the lives of the children you helped every day. Then when you came home, you'd do work for the darker side of life.

Bucky Barnes was born for this life. Being the first born son of George Barnes, the position of head of the Barnes Family was immediately his.

But growing up he didn't act like that life was for him. You would know since you two knew each other since you were thirteen. You grew up in the same neighborhood. It wasn't until you turned sixteen that you started dating. You knew who his father was, your own dad knew who his family was. As a detective, he told you time and time again that you needed to stay away from him. Being a hormonal and rebellious teenager, you never listened. You should've.

At eighteen years old was when Bucky killed for the first time. Because he was now a man, his father put him up in a cage fight with another man. It was kill or be killed.

He wasn't the same after. He began to push you away, keep things from you, act like a complete asshole.

Then enough was enough. You broke up with him and even though he hurt you, you never told your father the things Bucky told you. Especially after your father became the chief of police.

You two were ignorant with the roles you had to play in your youth, but reality hit you right when you became adults. You became the dutiful daughter of the chief of police, went to university to become a nurse. You stopped keeping track of Bucky's life, but would hear updates along the grapevine every once in a while.

You were there when George Barnes passed. Well, not necessarily in the room, but you were at the hospital when he passed. You were coming up from your break when you saw Bucky at the elevators. He looked upset.

"Bucky?"

He turned at the sound of his name, "Sw-Y/N. Hey."

"Is everything okay?"

"Uh, my dad. He-He had a heart attack. I'm-He-" you could see how distressed he was, so you pulled him in for a hug.

"Whatever happens, you'll be okay," you whispered in his ear.

He fell limp in your arms. You didn't know it then, but Bucky missed you like crazy and being in your arms again that night saved him from spiraling.

It's later that night that George Barnes dies. After everything he's done and been through, a heart attack was what killed him.

Karma, is what your dad said.

Despite the position George Barnes held, he was well-loved around the city due to him caring for the community. The streets were filled during the procession, your dad and his men keeping an eye out in case anything happened. You were also there for the funeral. You caught glimpse of Bucky and you couldn't breathe for a moment. He was clearly tired and you couldn't blame him, considering how things have been going for him lately.

Despite your father warning you to not make contact with him, you felt like you should.

"I'm sorry, again for your loss, Buck."

He gives you a tired smile, "Thank you again for showing up, Y/N. I-I know your dad probably didn't want you to come."

"He doesn't control every aspect of my life."

"Still. I really appreciate you being here."

"Of course. It's always hard when you lose someone you love." You would know since you lost your mother when you were young.

"Bucky," Sam, Bucky's right hand, calls his name and urges him to follow him.

"I gotta-"

"It's okay. Hope things aren't too stressful for you."

"Thank you. I'll see you around," he says as he departs. You didn't know just how soon you'd end up seeing him.

Three days later, to be exact.

It was late at night when there was a knock at your door. You hold your knife close as you peer through the peep hole of your door. Your eyes widen when you immediately pull the door open.

"Holy shit!" you whisper loudly as Sam drags a bleeding Bucky into your home.

"He didn't want to go to the hospital since we don't know whose people might be working there. So he told me to bring him here."

You guide Sam to your couch where Bucky slumps onto it, "Sorry, Y/N. I didn't know who else to trust right now." You turn on all the nights in your apartment and get a look at him. There's a stab wound in his shoulder. It looks like the bleeding slowed though.

You help Bucky out of his jacket and shirt. You apologize profusely for the pain he's going through.

He dryly chuckles, "You know, when I dreamt about you stripping me, I didn't think it'd be in this context."

You pause and look at him, "You dream about me?"

"You haunt my mind, Y/N." He must be delusional due to the blood loss. Before his father's passing, you hadn't seen nor spoke to him in years. There's no way he'd still be thinking about you after all this time, right?

"I'll be back. I need to grab my first aid kit." You rush to your bathroom and grab the small duffle of all your first aid necessities.

You also grab a bottle of vodka and hand it to Bucky, "Drink up, buttercup."

He frowns and looks at the bottle, "Thought you hated vodka."

"It's not my bottle. America left it from a party I held here," you mumble as you pull on some gloves and begin to clean around his wound. You work in silence as Bucky takes swigs from the bottle. Sam watches from the corner of the room, staying out of your way.

While you work, Bucky takes in your apartment. He takes in the pictures, the decor, the trinkets you have around. This is exactly how he'd imagine your place to be.

"Hey, still with me?" you ask as you begin to thread your needle.

"Yup."

"Okay. This might hurt-"

"Probably not as much as getting stabbed."

You can't help but snort a laugh as you get ready to start stitching Bucky's wound. He grins at the sound of your laughter and you see the sliver the Bucky you once knew.

For the most part, Bucky didn't make much of a sound while you worked. He just kept his eyes on you, taking in every furrowed brow, every twitch of your lip. After all these years, you are still just as beautiful as before.

His heart lurches at what's become of you two. You're practically strangers again after spending so many years apart. His own doing really.

Scared of what could happen to you as he fell deeper into the family business. That's why he behaved the way that he did all those years ago. He was protecting you.

Because after all this time, Bucky Barnes still loves you.

"Alright. We're done. How are you feeling?"

"Sleepy," he mumbles as he tries to sit up, but you keep him down.

"Then sleep. You and your bodyguard can stay here for the night."

The man in the corner snorts, "My name's Sam and I am not his bodyguard."

"Sorry, Sam, you and Bucky are free to sleep here for the night." Sam simply nods.

"You don't have to do this. If your dad finds out-"

"He won't. I won't tell him. And you're hurt, Bucky. Doesn't matter what you do or who you are, I can't, in good conscience, let you leave without knowing you'll be okay after this. Just-Just take this as me wanting to observe my patient for the night."

He settles further onto your couch with defeat, "Alright...you know you should've been a doctor."

"Didn't have the time or money to get my doctorate."

"I can help with the money-"

You shake your head, "It's fine, Buck. I'm happy with my job."

"Just..if you need anything, I'm here to help. That's what my dad for the people of this city and that's what I want to continue to do."

"I know. Thanks."

You stand, collecting your things, "I have some spare blankets, pillows, and toiletries. Lemme grab them."

"Okay," he says and watches as you walk to your bedroom.

Sam moves closer, "So that's her."

"Yeah."

"She's nice."

"Yup."

"And beautiful."

Bucky whips his head to Sam, glaring at him, "Watch it."

Sam holds his hands up, "I can appreciate a beautiful face, man. Besides, she's not yours anymore."

"You know how I feel about her."

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you." Sam says as he plops onto your sofa chair.

You come back with pillows and blankets in arms, "The couch is a pull out, soooo you two will have to share."

"Absolutely not."

"I'm sleeping on the floor."

You snicker, "Okaaay, uh, I have a couch in my room that one of you can take too."

Sam and Bucky look at each other and Sam immediately goes, "I call this bed!" he points to the couch that Bucky's laying on.

Bucky rolls his eyes and you chuckle, "Actually, I think I'd rather have you near me, Bucky, just in case you pull a stitch or start feeling pain again."

"If you're okay with that," he says with a shrug.

"It'll be fine," you respond as you help him sit up and then help him to his feet. He follows you to your bedroom where you show him the couch. You point to the adjoining bathroom, you can take a shower there. I already set out stuff for you and Sam."

"Thanks, Y/N. I really do appreciate it."

"Just doing my civic duty, Buck," you say with a small smile.

He clears his throat, "Yeah. Right. Of course."

"Oh!" you grab a pile of clothes and hold them out, "Here. They're my dad's for some of the nights he stays over."

Bucky can't help but snicker, "If your dad knew-"

"I know," you say with a playful roll of his eyes, "But he's not here and he won't ever know I'm helping you. So go, shower, be careful around your stiches. Call me if you need anything," you turn to set up Bucky's sleeping arrangement, but he grabs you by the wrist.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah?" you ask when you face him again.

He looks at you with soft blue eyes as he murmurs, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," you lean in and press a kiss to his cheek, "Go. Wash all that blood off you."

"Alright," he says and grabs the clothes, going into your bathroom. When the door shuts, you fall onto your bed to give yourself a moment.

A few days ago, you went years without seeing or hearing from Bucky. Now you've seen him twice in less than a week and it's throwing your mind in for a loop.

Hopefully, this will only be a one time thing and you two can go back to being strangers again.

[johanna-swann]

The thing is that the reasoning behind Eddie picking this fight doesn't even make sense at all.

First of all Eddie and Hen talk about Buck and how he almost obsessively worries about his friends which makes Eddie worry about Buck. So originally Eddie is concerned for his best friend because Buck is paying so much attention to other people.

In that same convo they also mention that Buck was trying to figure out how Eddie is handling his grief, so they have talked about Eddie's grief. Maybe Buck didn't go about it in the most sensitive way, but he genuinely wanted to know how Eddie is doing and asked a ton of questions.

But apparently Buck is still selfish because he didn't specifically ask: "Hey, what was it like for you getting that phone call?" As if that's a normal question to ask. As if you can just casually pepper that into a conversation. You can ask: "How are you holding up?" or "Are you okay?" and then you let the other person talk about whatever detail bugs them most. Which Buck did! They did have conversations about Eddie's grief.

And Eddie has been talking to everyone who will listen how he's "sorry I wasn't there" and "I feel guilty I wasn't there" and "maybe I could've done something". It's not like Eddie has been bottling these things up, he already expressed that feeling to Ravi and talked about it more with Hen and Karen.

Then they have a conversation where Buck reveals he knows about the job offer and is slightly miffed he didn't hear about it from Eddie himself, but still congratulates him and this just sets Eddie off in such a way he does a complete 180? Suddenly Buck is making everything about himself again and being selfish and doesn't care that Eddie is grieving too? If Eddie had got annoyed that Buck is still somewhat passive aggressive about the moving to El Paso thing - okay, kinda makes sense at least. But Eddie is the one who suddenly makes this about Bobby and his grief while completely ignoring that Buck basically just lost his surrogate dad. Eddie and Bobby were friends, good friends, but he was not Eddie's father figure. And he just keeps yelling and yelling and even gets physical with Buck.

As previously established - Buck did care about Eddie's grief. He did ask questions. Eddie is choosing to ignore that and verbally attack his best friend instead. And that's not even the end of it.

The next morning, not in the heat of the moment, but after Eddie had a whole night's sleep to cool off and after Buck has already apologised Eddie apparently still feels like he should mess with Buck's feelings further. Why? What kind of purpose does this action serve except hurt Buck? Eddie already confronted Buck, already said his piece, already got an apology. What the hell else does he want?

I wish the show would for once frame this behaviour in a way that clarifies Eddie isn't in the right. Because somehow these fights always end with Buck apologising and Eddie doing nothing, but they're besties again anyway. To me this signals that Eddie is right, Buck is childish and selfish, yelling at your friends is okay (you don't even need to apologise) and Buck deserves this treatment. I don't think this is what the show wants to say, but it's what comes across.

[biasbuck]

BiAsBuck’s May ficrec Mayhem.

Hi everyone, hoo-boy what a month. Talk about the epic lows and epic highs. One thing that doesn't change is how much incredible talent there is in this fandom, so I'm back with another round of fic that I've read and loved over the last month. Lots of processing emotions via fic being done here, so spoilers for the season below including mcd and grief.

As always you can find previous rec lists here.

10 May 2025

this must be the place by @becausebuckley with couch theory and domestic dawning roommates era buddie, this is them navigating what to keep and how (and why) they're combining their lives and their living space. Lovely character study and exploration of thematic motifs.

sing to me instead by @putanauhere written after 8x15, in which Eddie receives a phonecall and doesn't believe it at first, he and Chris return to LA, and Buck helps them buy Chris a suit for the funeral. Emotions run high whilst they try and hold it together, Eddie feels disconnected from the firefam and Buck feels disconnected from his body. Really fantastic team dynamics here, and the splintered processing of grief manifesting in a myriad of ways.

slow dancing on landmines by @glorious-spoon written after 8x16, this is Buck and Eddie grief sex fic, in which Eddie runs shortly after to avoid the conversations needed to be had. Beautifully written and achingly tender, it's messy and complicated feelings in all their glory.

The Kingdom Where Nobody Dies by @ponyregrets a Chris POV 8x15 coda, in which Buck calls Eddie to tell him about Bobby, and Chris contemplates a poem that speaks to him. Really lovely strong Chris voice, and a Chris and Harry exchange that made me cry.

they're back in the same house as if it's my fault.... by @fastcardotmp3 a short 600 word coda to 8x17 with a gorgeously rendered conversation between Buck and Chris, continuing on from their I'm sorry about Bobby discussion, and touching on their own dynamic.

8x17 coda by @chronicowboy deep in the crunchy feelings, after their fight, Eddie calls Chris from the couch. I love how this one explores Eddie actively trying to change his previous habits in his openness with Chris, and how Chris reads him and Buck so well.

tragedy & rage & grief by @ghostlandtoo Eddie and Chris have stayed in LA post 8x17 and Buck's glad but also...he's not coping well, and with he and Eddie sharing a bed, there's no private release for his grief. Eddie sees him, and they talk...and find a way to deal together. Hard and full of big messy feelings, the grief and release of this one really felt cathartic through the hurt.

i blinked and suddenly i had a valentine by @redrosydiaz adorable Jee fic! Jee Yun is making Valentine's day cards for all the firefam and Eddie is very touched to see she's written hers to Uncle Eddie...isn't it cute? But of course...only Buck is the other 'Uncle' she's mentioned, the rest of the firefam are all just their names. Wherever could she have gotten that idea?

sweetness follows by @pairofraggedclaws in which it's Eddie's first day back at the 118 and Buck and Eddie figure it out, through the eyes of Bobby, Hen and Chim. This is a breath of fresh air for anyone needing team banter, teasing and love. A wonderful farcical they don't know that we know they know we know story.

then you'll feel that you want me (the way i want you) by PrinceLix GOOD GOD. THEEEEE Buck's Eddie in latex gloves kink fic to end all fics. A must read for anyone who's ever gone cross-eyed at the sight of Ryan's gigantic paws lol. But beautifully written, sizzlingly erotic, and guaranteed to get you blushing especially if you're reading on public transport whoops. Despite Buck's best efforts, Eddie clocks what's going on and comes up with a plan to get Buck to fold, it goes splendidly.

featherlight by @coldbam - in which coldbam is struck by Apollo's Dodgeball for Ryan's hummingbird Disney Prince moment, by writing this sweet as all get out hobbyist birder Eddie fic! Buck encourages Eddie with his new hobby whilst he's in El Paso, downloading an app so he can identify the birds stopping by his garden. So so lovely and gentle. I just wanted to chinhands at them both.

once more, with feeling by @spaceshipkat in which Eddie gets a sixth sense that something's not right as he and Chris drive home supposedly to meet Buck for their happy reunion. When they get their the house is empty, and something isn't right...Eddie spirals, but works to get Buck back from whomever has taken him. A real nailbiter with some super intriguing dynamics, and clever sleuthing.

to have and to hold (platonically and heterosexually) by @littlefreakbuckley in which Buck's solution to Eddie losing health insurance in his move to El Paso is for them to get married for the benefits, and it turns out they both REALLY like being each other's husband....even if Eddie's straight and this is totally platonic, of course. Delicious tropey fun.

Okay until next time!! Can't believe we just have one more episode left? If you're in need of more recs, I also regularly reblog codas from 8b and fics as I read them, to be found in my usual daily ficrec tag.

[randomshyperson]

Heart Drawing - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

Summary: Dinner with Mr. Heart takes a different turn. Or, what anyone who wasn't a synthezoid would have done at the sight of Wanda in that dress.

Warnings: (+18), purely smut, bottom!Wanda (bratty), rough smut, creampie, strap-on, fingering and oral (w rec),  Westview setting, established relationship, kinda semi-public (?), almost getting caught but Wanda keeps doing magic tricks | Words: 1.169k

A/N-> I can't believe I finally wrote this, it's a fixing of the scene from WandaVision because I always thought it was unbelievable. If Wanda prepared a romantic dinner for me, especially wearing that, there would be no dinner at all. A good Wandavision anniversary for all of us btw <3

General Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3

-&-

Although it was one of the skills she developed first, mental control could be very difficult. Especially if Wanda was experiencing some other strong emotion, such as stress, anger, or sadness. 

Or physical exertion, like a fight with an alien or lifting machines or the like. 

Or just being so close to cumming in the middle of the kitchen.

And you, well, you weren't making it any easier for her. Your hips never faltered in their brutal rhythm against her and every time the fake cock attached to your waist slid between her tight walls, Wanda had the impression that even the magic around the house was failing. 

Her eyes were still red, though - Wanda is still surprised that she has any control when you slide your fingers down to tug at her neglected clit and she's forced to muffle her whimper with a bite on your shoulder.

She's sure she won't be able to keep the two guests static in the kitchen if you keep this up. But the soft protest is little more than a choke; "S-slow down, detka" she gasps directly into your ear.

You adjust the angle, and your hips slow down, but god, you thrust hard enough for the kitchen counter to crack. The dress she called a surprise barely hanging on her body is pushed down even further with the rough motions and Wanda won't be surprised if the the magic fails her once and for all with the reach of her orgasm.

She wasn't complaining, after all, this was the whole point of the night. A misunderstanding about a heart drawn on the calendar had led her to believe that tonight would be an anniversary (of which, she and Agnes came to no conclusion, and Wanda preferred to pretend it was supposed to be a wedding one). She got chocolate fruit and a dress that made you ignore your boss in the other room and force her against the counter as soon as you caught the first glimpse of her cleavage.

Wanda tried to be the voice of reason, even if her voice was hoarse and not very determined. She asked you; "What about them?" but all you did was give her a dirty little smile as you unbuttoned your pants.

"Play your tricks, my lovely little witch." That's what you whispered before sliding into her in probably the only gentle thrust of the night, and well, we're back to the beginning.

Wanda being fucked roughly on the counter in the kitchen while trying to keep the two guests in the living room.

She doesn't know, or think she doesn't know, at least not consciously about how that toy ended up inside your pants. She doesn't think about it, nor about when your hips start to buck and how when you come first, she can feel something hot squirting inside her. She can only mew in arousal, feeling your weight fall on her as you return your movements, faster than before making it impossible for her to hold back any longer. Your mouth finds hers again, and you swallow every dirty moan she lets out as she finally reaches her climax a moment later.

The kitchen, perhaps the whole city, shakes with the force of this orgasm. Wanda doesn't notice, but you're kind of mesmerized by the whole thing. She doesn't even realize she has lost control, still panting and soft under your body but you hear footsteps approaching.

It's your powers that keep the kitchen door tightly shut, and Wanda blinks exhaustedly at the knocks.

"I'll tell them dinner's canceled." You murmur, kissing her cheek before pulling out, the act drawing a gasp from the other. Wanda forces her body to react when you make mention of moving away, her legs hooking behind your knees while she gestures in the air with her fingers glowing red.

"They'll find their way on their own." That's what she says before pressing her mouth to yours again. You smiled into the kiss, saving a mental note to comment that you'd probably lose your job for this. But those were problems for later; right now, you were focused on your darling wife moaning on your tongue.

Your kisses descended to her collarbone, marking the skin gently as Wanda struggled to breathe. Your body soon followed the lead, and you ended up on your knees on the kitchen floor with your face between her legs, taking a moment just to admire the image of Wanda's pussy leaking your mixed cum. 

Your breathing against her was driving her crazy, she moved her hips forward, one of her hands grabbing a handful of your hair and trying to pull you in, but you fought back. Wanda meowed in protest.

"Please." It didn't sound much like begging, and you raised your eyes to her. Wanda blushed heavily at the image but tried to bait you by moving her free fingers to her own pussy, spreading the wetness before sinking a finger in. She whimpered before teasing; "Come on baby, I know you want a taste."

You bite your tongue, but you can't contain the shuddering of your body and Wanda smiles at you, a finger teasing its way in. You try not to fall for it but she mewls as she pushes her finger further inside and you curse quietly before you take action. Your hand pushes hers away, and you sink your face into her pussy before Wanda can complain; she chokes on a moan, her back arching on the counter as you eat her out in hungry determination. Your hands grip her thighs wide open and Wanda struggles to control the sounds, trying to find some ground as she clutches your hair, but all it serves for is to keep your head in place as she grinds harshly against your face.

She is almost robbed of her orgasm the next moment when there is a knock at the back door. It's she who is startled, failing in her movements towards your face, but you groan in frustration at the interruption and instead of stopping the whole thing, the vibration takes Wanda over the edge, and she has to cover her mouth with her hand to avoid the sound that escapes her as the climax washes over her.

She's still trembling on the counter when you stand up, a mess of cum running down your chin that you wipe off with the back of your hand, which Wanda watches with exhausted eyes as you lick it clean a moment later.

"I'll send her away." You mutter, evidently against your will to get off her. When Wanda mentions protesting, you offer her a wink, your hands busy hiding the toy back in your pants. " We'll carry on upstairs."

She tries to stand up on shaky legs while you answer the back door to the nosy neighbor. By now, Wanda's mind is so dizzy from a good fuck that she doesn't even care if Agnes was able to hear anything.

[rabotimagines]

"Transaction" GN BOT Reader x Soundwave, Thundercracker, Skywarp, Megatron

Summary: He'd been walking down one of the nemesis hallways when he'd heard a noise that drew his attention down one of the more secluded pathways. He'd followed the sound to figure out who was back where they shouldn't be only to find you self servicing.

Warnings: Dubious consent for Skywarp and Megatron, Smut MDNI 🔞, Mild gun play for Megatrons part (I GUESS?), Megatron being Megatron.

G1 characters: Soundwave, Thundercracker, Skywarp, Megatron

Genre/Theme: Smut 🔞

Notes: I was originally wanting to write this as Obsessed! Cons like with the autobot version of this scenario, but that just DID NOT end up happening as I wrote it. So the characters are just down bad for reader instead of Obsessed. Gn Con bot reader so both spike and valve are used!

Pronouns: You, your, yours

Soundwave is hitting the record function on his optical band as soon as he hears someone trying to be quiet. Good blackmail is always just around the corner on the nemesis. He wouldn't miss that opportunity even now. And then Soundwave sees you and his proccessor stalls for a solid klick. You were- you're pumping your spike faster and faster. Soundwave speechlessly watches you overload with a moan. You shoot ropes of transfluid onto your own chassis, and Soundwave is suddenly very glad to not have a travel based alt mode. Because if he had an engine, it would have revved loud and hard at the sight. Instead what involuntarily ends up sounding out of Soundwave, is a high-pitched noise from one of his speakers. You both jump at the noise, and Soundwave looks back up to make optical contact with you.

You're cursing up a storm- and on your pedes- and marching over to him- and (your array is still out-) Soundwave doesn't know what his next course of action should be. So he freezes as you march up to him and you tell Soundwave you want that recording. And you know he doesn't just drop blackmail for nothing. Which, no Soundwave did not. Frankly, if this was any bot else, he'd essentially own them for the level of trouble they'd be in for self servicing out here. And Soundwave does want you- but more importantly, he needs you to want him back. So he does away with the idea of using it as blackmail. It wouldn't genuinely entice you to him if he blackmailed you. Then you offer to- Soundwaves optical band brightens when he processes what you'd just said. You're offering to- suck his spike in exchange for the video? Soundwaves processor lags, but he does realize you are being completely serious about your offer. Soundwave was going to say no. This was not the way he had wanted to first be intimate with you. (Even when Soundwave wanted you so badly, it ached-)

Abruptly, you drop to your knees. Soundwave stands up straight and almost backs up when your servos grab at his thighs. You look right up at him and say Soundwave is going to give you the recording. And Soundwave suddenly cannot find it in himself to deny you. "Affimative." Soundwave bites out before letting his modesty panel pull back. His already hard spike pressurizes without a nano-klick to waste. Your attention goes right to his spike, and you immediately start running your glossia along the underside of its length. You dragged your glossia from the base all the way to the tip, and a throaty noise echoed out of himself, watching you do it. Your servo wraps around the base of his spike, and you pump him twice. Soundwave has to fight not to buck into your touch- Then Soundwave has to fight not to offline when you decide to suddenly swallow his entire spike in one go.

Soundwaves servos fly up to your helm and grasp on. A shaky groan escapes him, and he's completely caught off guard by how feverish the inside of your mouth is around his spike. You're doing this well enough. You've certainly had some type of practice- Soundwave can barely finish the thought before his proccessor scrambles itself when your glossia circles the underside of his spike. A deep bassy sound echos out of Soundwave when you pull back, and then drop your helm back down till your derma touch where your fist is still gripping the base of his spike. Soundwave lately turns his record function back on the next time you pull away from his spike. Your glossia lapping along the underside of his length the whole way back down- Soundwaves digits tighten on your helm.

Soundwave jolts when your other servo slips between the mesh of his valve. Two of your digits are sliding inside of him before he realizes it. Soundwave grunts, feeling how you're pressing into him- and he finds himself wondering how it would feel if it was your spike and not your digits. You swallow around his spike, and Soundwaves hips twitch forward lightly. Soundwave- Soundwave was going to overload down your intake at this rate, and he was going to do that soon. Especially with how he couldn't look away from how you were working his array-

Your digits start thrusting in and out of Soundwaves valve, and his pre lubricant quickly starts dripping down his own inner thighs. You're bumping your helm faster and faster- your glossia continuously dragging and lapping along the underside and length of his spike. Soundwaves' own noises are getting louder, and he's having more trouble keeping himself in control- and then you make optical contact. You don't look away when you pull your servo off the base of his spike and then swallow Soundwaves spike all the way down to his pelvis. You swallow heavy around him, and your digits curl inside his valve- and Soundwave is overloading directly down your intake with a shaking groan. You swallow his transfluid as well as you can- but some still spills down the corner of your mouth and down your chin. You only pull away when Soundwave starts shaking from the after effects of his own overload.

Soundwaves plating is lightly rattling on his own frame, but he can think better now that his arousal had shimmered down. Soundwave will create an internal data chip with the video of you self servicing. And he will thank you, and Soundwave will leave- You kiss the head of his spike tip gingerly, and every bit of that plan goes sailing violently out of Soundwaves helm. You jolt this time when Soundwave drops to his knees. Soundwave grabs you and yanks you forward against himself. Soundwaves servo wraps itself around both of your spikes. You grunt when Soundwave starts stroking you both off simultaneously.

You try to say anything, but Soundwave cuts you off. "Transaction completed. New query. Soundwave returns favor?" Soundwave needed to hear you overload again, but he needed to be the cause of it this time.

-

Thundercracker wants to turn around and go back about his own business when he hears someone trying and failing to stay quiet. Somebody being up to some slag already didn't put a good feeling into Thundercracker. But he knows it could be Skywarps jackaft doing something stupid. And those plans had a tendency to rebound back to Thundercracker. So Thundercracker sighs and squares his pauldrons encase its slagging Blitzing or something and makes his way around to see what's happening. And he sees you- and his wings slack behind himself, and he balks. Because you're-

Thundercrackers' optics cycle multiple times, and it still takes a klick for him to realize you're actually doing what he thinks you're doing. Thundercrackers optics widen and brighten when they zero in on how you've got your servos working your hard spike and your dripping valve- your speed picks up before long and Thundercrackers wings jerk as he speechlessly watches you overload all over yourself. Both Thundercrackers engines rev of their own accord before he can stop them, and it is- deafeningly loud in the silence. You jolt, and your helm whips up, and you make optical contact instantly.

"Uh-" Thundercrackers voice catches in his throat, and he genuinely does not know what he should do next. Then you're up on your pedes and marching over to him with your array still out- Thundercrackers optics finally snap away from your array when you're jabbing him in the cockpit with a digit. And you demand to know what he wants to keep his mouth shut. "I- what? No- No. I'm not gonna say anything." Thundercracker plainly states the truth. But you pointedly say it doesn't work that way. Which- he can't argue against it because it definitely doesn't work that way... especially not for cons. You didn't just do something for someone without some type of benefit. Then you say you'll make him overload if he shuts up. Thundercracker thinks his audials are glitching, so he just cycles his optics. And then you close the gap, and you're shoving your servo between his thighs-

Your servo cups his modesty panel, and Thundercracker chokes back a whine. You're asking if that's okay and Thundercrackers panel is pulling back by itself. Next thing Thundercracker knows, he's bracing his gauntlets against the wall with you pressing against his back. Your servo is stroking his spike with purpose. Thundercracker gasps when your thumb smears his own pre fluid over the head of his spike. You pull off his back slightly, and your glossia laps in between the sensitive gaps at the base of his wings. And a throaty groan that rattles Thundercrackers own cockpit sounds out of him.

Your servo twitches before you pull away completely, and Thundercracker almost whirls around and hoists your leg up and spikes you right there where you're both standing. But your servos are on his hips and you tell him to hold on, so Thundercracker does even though he needs you- He hears you shift but Thundercracker is not prepared when your glossia is suddenly lapping right against his valve entrance. Thundercracker curses when you just reach around and wrap your servo back around his spike again. Your glossia laps hard against his entrance before you actually push it inside of Thundercrackers valve and- oh Primus- Why are you being so good to him? Frag, he didn't think your first time would be like this. He'd imagined something less filthy than nearly public overloads. (Maybe he'd thought about doing it in the woods once or twice after sparing with you, but not this.)

Thundercrackers servos clench hard against the wall, and you speed up. Causing his pre lubricant to slick your servo to the point, it's squelching every time you pump him. Thundercracker has a harder and harder time keeping himself quiet the longer your glossia is playing with his entrance and your fists working his spike. Thundercracker can feel his overload about to hit him, and you suddenly use your free servo to slowly roll his hard exterior node in time with your other servo- and Thundercracker overloads with a shout. You just keep working his frame through his overload, and he's panting and pressing back against your faceplate by the end of it. Finally, you pull away from his valve and spike and Thundercracker huffs in vents.

You suddenly say you're gonna go and Thundercrackers helm shoots up and he turns around just to see you starting to walk away from him- and then his arms are wrapped tight around your frame and dragging you back against himself. You shout and push against him, but Thundercracker holds you tighter. "Wait- wait! No favors, but can we- can we keep going?" Thundercracker practically begs, and he can't even feel too ashamed about doing it. His spark throbs in his chasiss and Thundercracker needed you so badly.

You can't just finally give yourself to him and then walk away- you couldn't. Thundercrackers engines are both purring against you when he does reach for one of your legs to hoist high. He's pressing his frame further against you, waiting for your response. "I'll- I'll even owe you instead just- please don't stop." 

-

Skywarp creeps around the corner when he hears someone trying to be quiet. He could scare someone, or he could get dirt on someone doing something they shouldn't be and have a con owe him something for keeping his mouth shut. Either option means Skywarp gets something out of it. So he sneaks around till he finally manages to find the source. And he stops dead in his place when he's sees you just sitting there self servicing like nobody's business.

Skywarp's optics reset, and he actually realizes he's really seeing you with your array out. Fat, delicious looking spike being pumped through your own fisted servo. Plush wet valve barely peeking out from where you were sitting. Skywarps engines practically purr in excitement. Skywarp also doesn't think, he just does and is warping behind you almost immediately. You were against the wall, so his warp shoves you forward enough to accommodate him, and you shout his designation in surprise. (He needs to hear you shout it on purpose!). You try and elbow him in the chassis, but Skywarp just wraps his arms tight around your middle from behind and yanks you against him.

"Stop struggling! Maybe you're stupid enough to self-service out here, but I don't think you're stupid enough to reject a helping servo!" Skywarp growls against your audial and slips one servo to grab your spike. You jerk and still at his touch on your array. You grunt when Skywarp starts stroking heavy pumps up and down your spikes length. You sigh and finally stop struggling and even lean against him slightly. Skywarp coos and pulls you closer to himself- which ends up with you now in his lap. Your em field is lightly pressing against his own, like you're not sure about it. (Aren't sure about what!? How can you be unsure about this?) Skywarps spike was already ready to go the nano klick he saw you, but now he's throbbing against his own panel!

Skywarp lets his modesty panel pull back and bites back a whine when he realizes he has to pull away from you if he wants it pressurizing right. Skywarp decides not to do that because he really likes how you're sighing and now pressing back against him more. Skywarp rests his chin over your pauldron and watches your spike disappear and reappear in his fist. You were dripping pre lubricant all over yourself and Skywarps servo! Skywarp laughs when you jerk against him when he speeds up. Your hips start bucking up against Skywarps servo, and you're cursing. And Skywarp knows this is the hottest thing he's seen in all his function- and that was saying something! Skywarp presses harder against your back, wanting to be closer- maybe inside you, maybe you inside him- but he needed to be closer!

You're getting louder, and Skywarp gets faster, wanting to make you louder and louder- you moan and jerk against his hold again, and then you're shooting your transfluid all over his servo and your own lap. Skywarp grins at the sight and keeps pumping your spike through your overload. Skywarp laps his glossia along the covering of your audial when you start sounding more pathetic from his continued touching. (He could get you louder! Just you wait!) Skywap finally stops to reach a digit up to lightly tease the tip of your spike head. You grunt, and Skywarp finally pulls away from your spike. Watching the string of transfluid that sticks to his digit pad.

Skywarps servos then move to run under your thigh guards. Skywarp then hefts you upwards in his lap. (He still does this on the off chance you're bigger than him. Primus, bless that war frame strength.) Skywarp sighs heavy when his spike finally pressurizes properly right under your aft. Skywarp then he rubs the length of his spike along the wet folds of your valve. Skywarp groans when your valve practically drenches his length just from the rut alone. You grunt under the touch, but don't say anything. So Skywarp shifts till the head of his spike catches on your calipers. His spike twitching heavy against your valve entrance. "How 'bout some help for some help? Sounds fair, don't it?"

Primus, he wants to frag you till neither of ya could overload anymore... Skywarp could do that now, though, couldn't he?

-

Megatron scoffs and instantly turns on a pede to follow what sounds like someone failing to stay quiet. He was the Decepticon leader. And as their leader, Megatron knew spark damned well how many Decepticons had more than the tendency to be fools of the higher caliber. And he wouldn't let tomfoolery slip him by, especially when it was happening right under his olfactory. Megatron would deal out rightful punishments befitting whatever those transgressions where. Then Megatron stops dead in his tracks, and his optics widen when he's greeted by you- and you're-

... Oh, how delightfully convenient for Megatron when he finds you self servicing in the corner of the nemesis. Megatron watches both your servos. One jerking your spike, the other teasing the entrance of your own valve. Your sounds are light and airy, and your optics are so very bright. Megatron savors it and watches every little drag of your own touch. Then your vents pick up, and your optics screw shut, and that is when Megatron finally makes himself known.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" You rightfully jolt harshly when Megatron starts talking. Megatron watches your expressions shift quickly before you try to apologize and cover your pent-up array from him. And that wouldn't do now, would it? "I had believed I was commanding Decepticon warriors. Not perverts who couldn't control themselves better." Megatron closes the distance between you and watches trepidation settle on your faceplate. Megatron then reaches out, and you clearly brace for him to rightfully strike you, but instead, he only grabs your chin and yanks your gaze back towards him. "You'll need an appropriate punishment for indulging in such debauchery so inappropriately... now, won't you?" He smirks when your optics widen.

Which is how, in only a few klicks, you end up on your knees with Megatrons pede shoved in between your thighs. Megatron pushes his pede higher, watching you grind your soaked valve further against it. You're riding his pede close enough that your spike is also grinding against his leg. Rutting against his leg like a blasted undisciplined cyberhound. (You could be Megatrons cyberhound.) Megatron, paying rapt attention to every noise and reaction he draws out of you just with his pede. Every gasp, every grunt, every sound of pleasure.

So he notices when you look away, clearly ashamed of what he was making you do.

Megatron crooks the muzzle of his cannon under your chin and uses it to tilt your faceplate back up towards him. You jerk, being point blank against the opening of his weapon, and your delightfully bright optics find his immediately. Megatron smiles at the quick moment of panic you'd let slip through. He wouldn't shoot you. But you didn't know that. "Optics up, soldier." Megatron remarks and is pushing his pede higher. You grunt and continue rutting down like he'd initially instructed you do. You're making a mess out of his pede and leg with your arrays pre lubricant now. And Megatron wonders if he should either drag you into his private wash racks or order you to clean up the mess with your own glossia.

Megatrons spike is throbbing against his own panel, but he doesn't plan on using it just yet. This was actually a punishment for your perverted crime. (Even if he is picking you apart for Megatrons' own pleasure.) And Megatron definitely wants to punish you further, but the desire to finally see you overload for him vastly outweighs the former. So he crooks his pede even higher, his spike twitching hard behind his panel when a whine slips out of you. "Overload then, soldier." The muzzle of Megatrons cannon still keeps your faceplate tilted up towards him. So Megatron watches as your optical ridge furrowed and your optics brighten further.

At his order, you grind down twice more before your digits latch out and grab onto Megatrons leg (Megatrons own optics brighten just a touch from it). A groan manages to slip out of your vocalizor, and the sound makes Megatron want to reach down and spike you immediately. But instead, he enjoys the sight of you overloading, riding his pede, and grinding your still twitching spike against his leg. Primus above you actually look more than dear like this. Panting, with your array soaked in your own transfluid. Megatron hums and pulls his cannon away from your chin. Megatron then reaches down to run a servo across your helm. "Not bad... for your first punishment." Megatron let's his smirk curl into a smile when you realize what he'd said. Megatron was going to enjoy you in every way he could now that you'd generously given him the opportunity to do so.

But first Megatron needed to move you both to his chambers. He wasn't against letting his Deceptions know you were rightfully his- far from it. But none of them needed to see you in this manner of state. This was for Megatrons optics only.

[theclaravoyant]

AN ~ short bucktommy angst/whump with a happy ending, coz i love torturing my boys. 8x07 spoilers and verrrrrry loosely insp by a still from 8x08

typing

Why would he type type type and not send anything?

The alarms blare and Buck throws his baking back in the oven and sprints downstairs, but his mind is elsewhere. This? This is all muscle memory at this point. His mind occupies itself with other things, wondering what exactly Tommy might have wanted to say.

Evan. No. Buck. God, he still hates it that he called him Buck.

Can we talk? Tommy always was a man of few words. Or maybe Buck is just a man of many. But what does 'can we talk' even mean? He'd be spiralling just as hard as with the silent disappearing bubble. It's better this way.

MARRIAGE, EVAN??

God, he's an idiot. A pathetic, clingy idiot. Even now he would kill for a second round, just to dig that knife in deeper. At least then maybe, he'd be able to pick up what he'd missed before; where exactly that big dimpled grin and soft eyes had turned to hard words and hidden pain. At least then, he'd be able to fix it.

Hen watches him with a knowing eye.

“Stay strong, Buck,” she reminds him as they pull up to the scene. “Head in the game.”

Buck nods. He drops his phone on the seat and packs it away to the back of his mind, as best he can. Maybe he'll get to whip out the jaws of life. They always make him feel better. Shake it off, Buckley, let's go.

He's the last one out of the engine, and he hits the ground already triaging the scene. His senses expand, cataloguing the vehicles, the passers-by, the direction and nature of the accident. Eddie and Bobby are getting a run-down from a uniformed police officer on scene and it happens a splt second before Buck's mind catches up.

“A silver-” he overhears - “oh-”

He can see it in his minds eye, almost feel it even as his own heart sinks; the way recognition sets into Eddie's face. And then horror. He looks further down the road, to a sight that's partially obstructed from Buck's view. Partially, but not so much that he doesn't start running toward it because he has a feeling he knows, he knows, he knows who it is.

Why would he type type type and not send anything?

“Buck-” Hen warns, reaching to grab him but she's already missed.

Buck knows he should be helping but his world is caving in. Bobby's barking commands but all he hears is a wordless echo. Ravi hustles the balloons and the jaws up to the worst hit of the vehicles and Chimney is already there; medkit tossed over the worst of the shattered glass as he kneels by the dangerously crushed window and tries to make contact with the person inside.

“Buck.” It's Eddie this time, blocking with his body as much as he can – and he can, even with the full force of Buck throwing himself forward - but even he can't stop the terrible, terrible knowing.

“TOMMY!”

The name rips out of his lungs, because it's the truck: it's Tommy's pride and joy. It's singing along in the passenger seat and Tommy's smiling – sometimes he joins in, even though he wouldn't otherwise care for Buck's taste. It's Tommy slinging a greasy towel over his shoulder and hitching himinto the truck bed and making out until they both can't breathe. It's spilling the salt from hot chips in there; it's shoulder to shoulder at the drive-ins; it's getting fucked into the seats; it's polishing and vacuuming just last week because he can't help with the engine for shit. He'd put a little thing of jellybeans in the cup holder after - like his old detailer used to do, just to be cute - and it hits him that that's what those little coloured smudges are, intermingled with the crushed glass littered across the road.

What if he's in trouble and he needs my help?

“Oh, God, Tommy.”

The howling turns to hopeless. Breathless. The fight evaporates right out of him and he collapses forward into Eddie's arms. Eddie's embrace is firm and steadying as he lowers them both as gently as he can manage to the curb. Buck closes his eyes, sapped of the strength to watch any more but cursed by the knowledge of what's still got to be happening. Hen and Chim will be extracting Tommy's bruised and broken body onto a backboard right about now, and then lifting him onto a gurney. They'll be doing CPR if he's lucky – and they are, he can hear it, so at least there's that.

Then it stops.

For a few, horrible seconds all he can hear is his own hammering heart. Eddie's ragged breathing. Footsteps. Bobby.

“Buck.”

It takes a second, for him to gather the courage to open his eyes and look up. Bobby's demeanour is solemn and serious, but there's a softness Buck recognises well. A lightness that promises things might just be okay, as he offers a hand to pull Buck up from the roadside.

“He's asking for you in the ambulance,” Bobby says, and there's just a flicker, just an iota of a smile as he urges - “Go.”

[love-toxin]

bonus night - mike schmidt

plot: jk it's just por-//SHOT

(cws: fem!reader, FNAF movie spoilers!!!, rough sex, riding, begging, a teeny tiny taste of dom mike, tit sucking, bruising, protected sex w/ a twist, post-fnaf canon, established relationship)

wc: 2k

There's absolutely no question that it's been a long fucking day. One of many, in fact, both behind him and yet to come.

Aside from his sleep schedule still being tremendously fucked from that five night ordeal, Mike's also had the stress of landing a new job and keeping it this time. He's lucky–god, he's lucky that an old friend of his just happened to have a connection–but that just puts more pressure on his ability to keep a level head and not lose this one. Plus, with his meds cut out as well as a whole host of new traumas to keep him up at night it's almost more stressful than fighting for his own life. With today being the end of orientation and the first real shift on the job, it's finally sinking in that a new chapter of life has started but his problems are still an uphill battle.

Bills, backpay, rent, Abby's therapy, pacifying their aunt who was quite aghast at waking up disheveled on their living room floor…it's been a process to say the least. His one saving grace has been you. You. His beautiful, gentle angel, with a voice like sugar and honey and skin as soft as velvet, warm like a shallow pool on a summer's day that he'd want to float in for hours. You're so precious he can't think of a single thing he's done in life that tops being your lover, or even comes close.

Well…maybe there's one thing.

“Mike,” The squeaking of the bed beneath you just barely drowns out the high, sweet whimper that your voice has melted into. “Please baby, slow down-”

A squeaky “ah!” flies from your mouth regardless of that insistent plea, your lover's hips like stone pistons as he bucks up and topples you over to land back against his chest. He loves you there; the feeling of your tits squished against his chest as he holds your ass in an iron grip. Thumbs dig into each cheek, palms splayed out to keep you spread but still in your place–stretched enough to take him but tight enough not to let him slip out. Not even now, an hour after he carried you through the door over his shoulder, when his spit and cum and sweat have coalesced into a damp sheen spilling over his lap. Fuck the mess. He'll clean it up later, if he doesn't just throw his whole bundle of sheets into the wash to scrub away the evidence.

Each thump, thump, thump of your body thrown down rings more in your ears than his, but both of you feel it equally. Your womb kissed with hard, stinging passion on every thrust, and Mike's stomach twisting and flexing as his cockhead beats that spot raw, instincts begging him to drain all he has left inside. He's got lots of pent-up energy to spare, and on the one night that his sister's gone to a sleepover you can bet he took the chance to let some of it out. He'd barely had time to grab a condom–as eager as he was, it pales in comparison to the heat between your thighs when you see him get all riled up. If he'd let you put it on for him, you'd probably have it off in a second. Now he's just at the mercy of your needy and downright addictive pussy.

“Fuck!” Your mewls shift into a spitting, hissing curse when he bites down on one of those beautiful breasts of yours. Unlike what a weaker man would do, Mike isn't averse to leaving bruises–what else could be expected? He tries to be a gentleman in public and you always tell him he is, but the desire to put hands all over those pretty tits and mark his claim on them is second nature now. And no matter how much you'll complain about them being sore afterwards, you'll still push them in his face with that devilish look that's daring him to do it all over again.

Besides, he can't resist those things swinging right in front of him. And you'll forget the sting so quickly, his tongue will make short work of those shallow wounds you feel as he latches his lips and starts to suck. Greedily.

“Mike!”

Your hands in his hair won't stop him. But they don't really want to–as always you love to tug but you never push him back, you don't try to get any more space between you because what's already there is still not close enough.

God your whiny voice is so cute. He couldn't feel more lucky to have picked you up when he did. How would he know that the girl he helped out once for an ice cream would end up being his girlfriend? He just thought you were cute, and he felt bad seeing your face fall as you counted out your change in line, so he hadn't thought twice about the dollar he put down on the counter in your stead. Such an adorable little ditz, and now he's got you riding his lap and kissing him awake nearly every morning. If he wanted to catch a break, this is it.

“M-Mike, m'gonna cum,” Your whimpers dig into his ear and tug at the strings of his heart, his head already turned to soothe you with a low, soft shush brushed by your cheek. There there. With a stroke of your hair, you're melting again.

“Mhm,” He hums again, his warmth a lull following the furious heat that's been sparked by the friction of his hips pumping at a violent pace. “Shh, sh sh. We’ll go slow, I promise.” His murmuring muddies your head, his fingers descending quickly towards their destination. Once they reach it at the crest of your soft, pudgy mound that's been brutalized by his cock, he's glad to see you finally let that tension go as you slump forward into his chest. You just need to cling to him for awhile, and he certainly won't be complaining.

The smell of your sweat, your heat, your sleek, soft tongue wetting the bruises your teeth leave in his throat, all that whining and groaning and high, girlish squealing as your hips hump his lap–these and more are all reasons he has to absolutely worship you. Your starry-eyed gaze as you look upon him in ecstasy etches itself into his very soul. He won't ever forget this…he won't ever forget you. Not the warmth of you both being cheek-to-cheek, your hand coaxing out his end as it trails reverently from his jaw down his heaving chest.

“Pleeeeease,” You whisper, so achingly sweet he could cry as easily as cum. “Please, baby?”

Please. Such a pretty word. Prettier from your mouth most of all, so pretty it hurts–nearly stings as he digs his nails in and leaves marks on each cheek, though it will moreso for you when you wince at sitting down at your desk tomorrow morning. You're shaking, trembling more like, and even if he made you wait for it you wouldn't be able to obey. The spasms wracking through you can't be controlled, nor can the grind of your hips down as you let those strong hands drag you all the way to the base. So far that it causes a twinge in your expression as the orgasm passes, your ecstasy blotting out the stretch that you're gonna feel all the way up to your hips in the morning.

But he's got to get in deep, has to make it ache, so he's got a grip so firm it's trembling up his arms and you're shaking even harder on top of him as he digs in and lets loose. There's no question he's hit your womb, it's more curious to whether he's broken through it or not…by the way you bite down on his shoulder and bear the pressure, though, he must be nearly there. Nearly squeezing through that tight, tight wall so he's draining his seed right where it's meant to be. And you paw at him all the while, lower lip quivering, tears threatening to spill, yet you won't let up on rubbing yourself back on his thighs–it just isn't enough until you've taken all he has to give, and even then he can spot that gleam in your eyes that begs for even more. The fact that the condom's split isn't even in his mind, it's floated so far away he won't think of it until it's too late to stop.

Yet all that heat hits the same end after the climax. The friction subsides, the breathing slows, and the two of you are left in content silence as you quietly come back to your senses. There's something even more intimate about losing oneself as a collective; being so hedonistic in pursuing an indulgence, yet facing the fear of baring your own heart to one you love in the process, and reaching an even more satisfying end as it all comes to a close. It's glorious. He wouldn't trade it for anything. He wouldn't trade sex for his own life now that he's had it with you. But, again, he's still coming down from the high–he’ll most certainly feel the embarrassment of losing himself so indulgently as the cool air from the AC starts setting in.

“Was that good, baby?” Your tone just drips with deliciously sinful innocence, god. You've got such a proud expression on your face as he finds the words through his post-coital haze, hands inching back down your ass to grab handfuls of it yet again. Once he's got a grip he tugs, and draws you closer to meet you in a kiss–and as wet as it still is from the exercise, the way you lean into it and giggle is just enough to send his heart burning into passionate flames yet again.

“Very. Always is.” Panting, sweaty, he'd have no trouble convincing the neighbors he was just having it out on a treadmill for the last hour. If he could afford one.

“The best you've ever had?”

“Best. Best and only. Can I get up now?”

“Mmm…” You make a show of thinking up your answer only to tap him on the nose as you lean forward over him. “...No. I like this.”

Mike claps you on the ass suddenly, the smack echoing loudly in his modest little bedroom and eliciting a squeal from you that's just as punctual. Your squirming only draws a heat up inside him again though, and he knows better than anyone that that's exactly what you want. You'd be happy if he never got out of bed again, and if he spent all day with his cock nestled nice and warm inside you.

“Up. I gotta piss. Don't make me count.”

“Fiiiiiiine.” Huffy and puffy as always, you soon relent and slip off with a bit of manoeuvring to flop into bed beside him. “Can I at least hold it?” Rather than say something equally as shameful, he just pushes his pillow over your face with reddened cheeks and ducks with laughter as you launch it back at him, already up and on his way to the bathroom to wash off–and to soon find the evidence of that broken contraception that's definitely gonna plant a seed of worry in him when he realizes. Or…maybe not. God knows how many jokes you've made about wasting his cumshots in your mouth, and how often you've jumped him with no inkling of whether he's got a rubber in reach or not.

Maybe this is just another chapter of life, one more stage he's been readying himself for unconsciously. Whatever it comes with, he's gonna be beside you either way–so in a sense, he's more prepared than he's ever been to face what lies ahead.

[valentine-cafe]

HI!! Im a little nervous requesting for the first time. I dont really do this a lot, but i just have this fic idea about Alessio. He definitely caught my eye and interest with the concept of a mercenary figure.

It's not much, but it would be interesting if male reader was a rival mercenary that gets into "daily quarrels" with Alessio. They always end up in a tie with strength, but there would be something different about reader one day. They turned ruthless with their fights, and even defeated Alessio. Now that he's right underneath their control in every movement, wouldn't it be interesting to finally fuck the daylights out of the cocky bastard?

Sorry if it doesn't really make sense, i rarely write lololol. Thank you so much before :) !

˖⁺. ﹙ bttm enigmatic antihero mercenary x rival top male reader. ﹚ .𖹭 ݁

. . . pretty little fuckdoll you are, arias !! 🍒 :  antihero ˖ mercenary ˖ enigma character character﹙ verse 781 alessio. ﹚

Winning one of your's and Alessio's little "quarrels" you get on top of him during the fight and take your win with fucking the daylights out of him <3

𖹭. ps : thank you for the first time request!! was so fun<3 | cw: anal, rough fucking, lots of cum, nipple piercing tugging <3, slight degradation, handjob

A groan of frustration moves past Alessio’s lips as you buck your hips into his pretty ass. Splitting his tight walls while you hold him down against the floor.

“I’ll fuckin’ get back at you f’this.” He grunts, only for the sound to transition into a whiny gasp as the pace becomes rough and fast.

Your fingers rake through the black locks of hair, only to take a good grip on them all and force Alessio’s face back down into the ground to keep his mouth shut. The look of his eyes rolling back sending you straight to the stratosphere.

“We’ll — mghn fuck so tight— hahh- see about that. Arias.” You chuckle into his ear, breaths heavy, bating, as you near your orgasm. The feeling of him clenching all around you whenever you cum has you hooked on the feeling.

Yet you edge yourself a bit, wanting him to be able to see when you cum again. So with swift movements, you pull out of him and flip him over. Beautiful olive skin on display for you. It would be a crime to not run the tips of your fingers across it and do a pinch’n’tug on his nipple piercings.

His hips buck upwards, in the poorest of attempts to take over the little ‘wrestle’ session the two of you are having. You regain the control quickly, as you snap your cock back into his needy hole.

The loud whine that escapes him has you almost tipping over — fuck, what is this man doing to you?

Hot ropes of cum spurt out of his cock as you begin to fuck ferally, shallowing your thrusts while, guiding him back down on your dick everytime he seems to be squirming away.

Moving his hips with one hand, you move the other to press your thumb down against his penis slit and swirl the seed around the tip. Before, smoothly, your hand rushes down his throbbing dick and starts pumping out more of his delicious cum.

“Just look at you.” You laugh, swallowing one of your own moans while panting out the rest of your words: “strongest deemd mercenary turned into my personal pretty boy fucktoy, isn’t that adorable?”

That snapped any sort of self-control he had left, his eyes crossing while his mouth drops open for moans to come cascading out of it. Tears well at the corners of the emerald hues that gaze up at the ceiling. The pleasure is so intense he can’t keep up.

Neither can you.

It doesn’t take long for you to put him into a mating press, making him watch as you shoot your own hot load of cum into him over and over again. The squeezing of his walls so intense you feel lightheaded.

“That’s it— Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!!”

Your moans do not go unheard, the other joining the choir of the symphany your bodies make. The sounds of sloppy skin against skin continue as you fuck out the rest of your orgasm. Your balls tapping against the plush of his ass as his little hole leaves you spent.

[beenadoonabc]

Bvcktommies: If 911 followed through with narrative threads, bvcktommy would get back together

Narrative threads in 911: "We might end up real close" > "You could have my back" "Or you could have mine" > "Does your boy crush on Eddie mean you're finally ready to move on from Abby" > "They weren't my type" > "You don't find it, son, you make it" > "This is Eddie's house, I'm not a guest here" > "There's nobody I trust with my son more than you" > whatever the fuck that grocery store fight was > "I forgive you" > "I should have been there for you" "We're way past that" "I'm not" > Buck trying to get through 30 ft of mud with his bare hands > Buck moves on from Abby > Living together during the start of the pandemic > "Make sure you follow your heart, not just Christopher's" > "Are you hurt" > Eddie wakes up right when Buck and Taylor kiss > "Because, Evan" > "I thought I'd just stick it out" > "I'm leaving the 118" > "Move on, I have > "You don't have to pretend with me" > Eddie stares at Buck across a bar and smiles > the breakdown and Buck taking care of Eddie during and after > "Is that what love is? Everything is good all the time? Or is it when things are bad and you're still there for each other?" > Buck breaks up with Taylor > the Couch Theory starting out in a scene with Eddie and Chris > Eddie finding dating performative > "three minutes and seventeen seconds" > Buck saying "Natalia gets me" and getting the weirdest look from Eddie > "You were missed" > "my attention?" > "Wish I could help" > "If there's something you need to tell Eddie, you will" > "This doesn't change anything between us" "😐🫤🙁 Good, I'm relieved" > couple costumes > "I'm worried about you" "yeah, I'm worried about me too" > "just do what you always do, talk to him" > Eddie's voice grounding Buck > Tommy wearing a visitor sticker vs. Eddie finishing Buck's sentences > "I'm your first, not your last" > Buck goes to Eddie and they sit on Eddie's couch together, for the first time, after Eddie lets joy into his life > nobody wants Buck to call Tommy > "The universe will send you a special person" > Buck comes to Eddie's kitchen to bake and then instantly loses his desire to do so when he realize he's going to lose Eddie

These are literally just the things I thought of off the top of my head. There's so much more. But sure. Please tell me more about how Bvcktommy is the ship that should be endgame.

[middlingmay]

Alright so what if it was Gale who was losing it in the Stalag and not Bucky?

Bucky who's always been more untethered finds his snarling and snapping is more common, more accepted in the Stalag so long as it's not aimed at the guards. He doesn't have the pressure of trying to keep all of the worst bits of himself so contained, only blowing off steam at the bar or between the sheets. He still hates it, is still angry and furious and impotent, but in the Stalag he can express that more.

And he helps the others express it, too. Gives everyone one pass a day to curse him out as badly as they can, and he screams right back. Organises secret fights for morale - a chance to get the hurt and frustration out, a chance to exert themselves, a chance to bet with the meagre things they had and something to look forward to. The first person on their back was the loser - no first blood bullshit. This place was already taking too much life from them.

But Gale? Gale who's been angry his whole life but had to keep it on lock down. Gale who found the war and the air force as an outlet for his wilder impulses. Gale who needed to be in control of everyone and everything and pretend like he wasn't. He can't do any of that in the Stalag. He's always been afraid to let his emotions loose and lashing like Bucky. He didn't do well being so powerless, and didn't know how to be him in a place like this.

He can't do missions or rally the men. The crystal radio helps but that's only an hour here or there when it works. He creates chores and rotas and organises classes. But it all feels so useless.

He doesn't realise that between Bucky and Gale, the 100th stuck in the Stalag are managing to tolerate life there pretty well. Their hungry and constantly in danger, but they have both structure and an outlet when it got too much. Gale just sees himself as an utter failure if a soldier, a pilot, a major, a friend and a man. And ihe alternates between days where he's sick with rage from it, and days where he can't muster the will to rise from his shitty bunk. And Marge’s letters go unanswered.

He's not the self destructive kind to veer near the fence or pick a fight with a guard, but he takes minimal care of himself, giving away rations and leaving the warmest clothes for the others and not taking medicine when he gets sick in case someone needs it more later.

It drives Bucky crazy. And after exhausting every other idea he has he decides there's only one way to get a spark of life back into Gale. So the next fight he slates is Bucky v Buck.

Gale doesn't find out until he follows John who wants to show him something. It takes shockingly little persuasion, and Bucky things he's been waiting for something like this but would have never let himself take the plunge without being thrown straight in.

Lookout duty is a punishment that night, because no one wants to miss the fight of the two Majors of the 100th.

They knock the Holy hell out of each other. Gale's lip busts open easy, but he hits like a hammer. And John's nose is a prime target and his moustache is sodden with blood pretty quickly. Bruises blossom everywhere, and in the end, they fall down together. John sinks a boot into Gale's ribs and he.socks John's jaw so hard his ears ring.

They lie gasping on the floor and the match is declared a jaw and the boys are losing it as much as they can without getting caught.

But John sees it, lying there. A sparkle of life and feeling in Gale's eyes again.

That night in their bunks when they're somewhat patched up, Gale reaches out for the first time since they got there.

"I didn't get you too bad?" He asks as he trails his finger so ermsome of the more prominent bruises he can see even in the dark.

"Oh, I can feel it," John tells him through a genuine grin. It only tempers when he takes Gale's hand in his and thumbs over the too bony protrudence of his wrist. "You with me?"

Gale licks the crusting concealing blood off his lip, setting its healing back some. "Till there's no more pilots left in the sky, John."

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

hey! I love ur writing sm and you seem rly chill <3

this is kinda specific so I understand if it's too constricting for your creativeness

I have a bucky x reader hurt/comfort request where she's an avenger and lives in the compound (everyone does bc the beef from cacw all somehow magically disappeared and the giant withered grape decided to mind his own business) and she was also experimented on by hydra. Basically enemies to lovers bc the winter soldier hurt her and she can't stand to see his face but he doesn't know that's why she's so curt so he just thinks she's rude. One night she has nightmares (bc ptsd obv) and bucky hears her screaming and begrudgingly goes to check things out and hears that she's afraid of/fighting the winter soldier and he wakes her up and comforts her before she realizes it's him and tries to push him away and some happy fluffy maybe angsty ending that resolves itself with cuddles with bucky maybe?

You Know What You Did » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Female Reader

Summary: Bucky doesn’t know what he did, but you know what he did.

Warnings: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, language, enemies to lovers, mentions of HYDRA, slapping (once), crying, nightmares, kissing, pet names

A/N: Thank you for the request, nonnie🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buck-star

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

You and Bucky have known each other since you were experimented on by HYDRA. Ever since you two were able to escape HYDRA, you’ve been avoiding him. You walk around hurt. Bucky has zero idea what he did. He just assumed that you’re rude.

You walked in the conference room, stopping when you seen Bucky. You sat on the opposite side of the table, a few seats down. Bucky rolled his eyes at you.

“Why is Y/N always avoiding you?” Sam whispers, leaning over towards Bucky.

“How the hell should I know?” Bucky mutters.

You glanced over at Bucky once or twice during the meeting, glaring at him. Bucky furrows his eyebrows at your gaze, wondering why you keep giving him dirty looks. After the meeting, you left the conference room before Bucky.

“Hey Wanda.” Bucky walks over to her. “Do you know why Y/N is always rude to me?” He asks curiously.

“No. Why would I know?” Wanda asks.

“You read minds.” He says.

“Y/N told me not to read her mind.” She says.

Bucky nods before walking away and going back to work. Bucky was working out in the gym when you walked in there. You stopped when you saw him. You walked past him, completely ignoring him. Bucky stared at you for a moment, narrowing his eyes at you.

“What’s your problem with me?” Bucky finally asks.

“Excuse me?” You asked, turning attention to him.

“What’s your problem with me?” He asks again. “I did nothing to you and you’re always rude to me.” He says.

“Like you don’t know.” You say, narrowing your eyes at him.

“I don’t know.” He says.

“Stop playing stupid, Barnes! You know what you did!” You say, raising your voice.

“Obviously I don’t! Care to elaborate on what you think I did?” He says.

You scoffed and shook your head at him. You rolled up your shirt sleeve, showing Bucky a scar on your upper arm from when he -the Winter Soldier- cut you while knife training during yours and his HYDRA days.

“You see this scar?” You pointed at the scar. “You cut me with a knife while knife training during our time in HYDRA.” You tell him. “Another time, you knocked me to the floor and made me hit my head on the floor. I can go on and show you more scars if you want.” You say.

Bucky shook his head no. He didn’t realize he- actually, the Winter Soldier was the one who did those things to you. That still doesn’t change how he feels about you.

“Now you know why I can’t stand to see your damn face!” You say.

You walked past him, purposely bumping into him. Bucky turned around and watched you walk out of the gym. Steve watched you walk past him in the hallway as he walked in the gym.

“Why’s Y/N so upset?” Steve asks Bucky.

“Ask her. I’d probably say the wrong thing and she’ll be even more pissed off than she already is.” Bucky says.

Shortly after the interaction you and Bucky had in the gym, he thought back to his HYDRA days. He tried to remember, but nothing comes to his mind. He doesn’t remember giving you those scars. He spent most of his day and nights thinking about it. Nothing about the scars and stories you told him rang a bell in his head. One night, he woke up from his dreamless sleep and remembered that he’s the one who gave you those scars and the trauma. To take his mind off of it, he decided to go to the gym to punch the punching bag since he’s not going back to sleep anytime soon.

As soon as he closed his bedroom door, he heard noises coming from your bedroom. Bucky walked over to your bedroom, which is across the hall from his. He pressed his ear against your bedroom door and heard you saying “Please stop.” in your sleep. That was enough to tell him that you’re having a nightmare. Bucky hesitantly put his hand on the doorknob. He debated whether or not to help you out or leave you alone. He decided to be nice and help you out. He quietly opened the door and closed it behind. The moonlight shining through the window showed Bucky that you were tossing and turning in bed. He sat down on the bed next to you.

“Y/N.” Bucky gently shook you. “Wake up. You’re having a nightmare.” He whispers.

When you finally woke up, you seen Bucky sitting next to you. You automatically thought he was the Winter Soldier, due to the nightmare you just woke up from.

“Stay the hell away from me!” You say, scrambling away from him.

Bucky turned the bedside lamp on before helping you.

“Y/N, calm down. It’s just me.” He says softly.

You breathed heavily as Bucky got closer to you. Out of instinct, you started hitting and kicking at him to defend yourself.

“Stop it.” He says softly.

Bucky grabbed your arms with his hands and pinned your legs down against the mattress with his legs to get you to stop hitting and kicking at him.

“Please stop. I can’t do it anymore.” You say, your voice cracking and your eyes tearing up.

Bucky seen the pain in your eyes. He felt guilt in his heart. He let go of your arms and got off of your legs. As soon as he let go of you, you smacked him across his face, hard enough to make his head turn to the side. Bucky will admit that he deserved that.

“What part of me not standing to see your face do you not understand?” You asked.

“I heard you having a nightmare. I wanted to be nice and help you out.” Bucky says.

“You’re way past helping me out, Barnes.” You say, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Can you set your hate for me aside for a god damn second so I can apologize?” He asks.

You crossed your arms over your chest and leaned your back against the headboard, staring at him silently for a few seconds. You nodded, waiting for him to proceed with his apology.

“I never understood why you hated me until yesterday. I just assumed you were just rude. I had no idea that I- the Winter Soldier was the one who was the one who hurt you. If I was in my own mind back then, I would have never done that to you. You have to understand that I was under HYDRA’s control when they made me do those things to you.” He tells you. “I am so sorry. I don’t expect you to accept my apology. I don’t expect you to forgive me either. I understand if you don’t want to be friends with me and don’t want to work with me.” He apologizes.

You have to admit that Bucky’s apology was heartfelt. You do understand that he was under HYDRA’s control when he did those things to you. Now, you feel bad for the way you’ve been treating him.

“I’m sorry too.” You apologized.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for.” Bucky says.

“Yes I do. I had so much hatred for you that I completely forgot that you were under HYDRA’s control when you did those things to me.” You say.

Bucky put a comforting hand on your knee.

“I completely understand.” He says softly, giving you a soft smile.

You gave him a soft small. You moved closer to him. Your face was closer to his. His lips were inches away from yours. Both of you closed the rest of the distance by leaning in. The kiss was passionate and sweet. His lips felt soft against yours. Deep down, past all of the hatred, you have feelings for Bucky. Bucky feels the same way about you. You two pulled away, gazing deep in each other’s eyes.

“I-” You closed your mouth, scared to confess your love for him.

“What is it, doll?” Bucky whispers.

You felt butterflies in your stomach when he called you doll.

“I think I’m falling in love with you.” You finally confessed.

Bucky smiles and brought a hand up to your cheek, gently caressing it.

“I’m falling in love with you too.” He confesses.

You smiled and softly pecked his lips a few times. Then you two laid down. You laid your head on Bucky’s chest and he wrapped his arms around you protectively.

“Can we take things slow before jumping into a relationship?” You asked, looking up at him.

“I’m fine with that.” Bucky replies.

You smiled and snuggled yourself against Bucky. Bucky reached over and shut the lamp off.

“Goodnight, doll.” He whispers.

“Goodnight, Bucky.” You whispered back.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[nquesoxlies]

The whole discourse about Bobby and Chim doing similar things to Buck got me thinking, because on the surface, sure they seem like similar transgressions that weren't seen as nearly as bad/forgiven more easily. However after some thought - in my head at least - they are vastly different situations. Here are some thoughts I had (sorry if it gets long, i've been stewing lol).

Lets take Chim punching Buck first. One of the reasons this was so shocking when audiences first watch it is because this is TOTALLY out of character for Chimney. Chimney is rarely an agressor, and him letting go and wailing on Buck was a one time event that showed just how devastated he was at his partner (who is suffering from post partum depression/psychosis) being missing. We don't see it on screen but I am a firm believer that when Chim got back, he and Buck had a conversation offscreen that included an apology on both ends. Obviously Buck didn't deserve violence, and he's definitely always going to side with Maddie, but he also wasn't totally innocent in the whole situation. In the end I think they worked it out between the two of them and it can definitely be classed as a one off incident that isn't going to happen agagin.

Now Bobby. A little less violent than Chim, but more along the lines of what happened with Eddie. Here is where I feel they differ. The Bobby that shoved Buck in season 1 is a VASTLY different person/character than the Bobby we grew to love over 8 seasons of 911. The first half of the first season we see Bobby grow and evolve from a suicidal, compartmentalized, loner - to the father figure he became to Buck. Buck was being an asshole kid and Bobby (pre-opening up to everyone Bobby) was an ass back. Did he need to shove him? No, and again violence is never ok. But is this something that he grew out of as he allowed himself to open up, love again and forgive himself? Yes. He grew as a character and thats why we love him so much. This growth starts in the begins episodes and continues through season 1 (and even more so, though to a smaller degree in the rest of the series). As a side note this is also why fans of BuckTommy are happy to "forgive" Tommy for any of his transgressions in the begins episodes. Because his character learned and showed growth.

Now... lets take Eddie. This incident of shoving Buck and almost hitting him is NOT a one off incident. This is just a latest incident in a pattern of behavior that goes back 7 seasons. This is "fight club" Eddie, this is "tell Bobby to fuck off" Eddie, this is "punch walls while my 10 year old is in the other room scared out of his mind" Eddie. Eddie has had anger management issues from very early on and he's never taken responsibility for them and he's not grown at all. He shirks responsibility at every turn, when it comes to relationships (romantic and friendships), family and Chris. He's more importantly for this example shown a long standing pattern of being a shit friend to Buck who is consistently putting him down and taking advantage of his friendship. And to cap it all off - while again violence is never an answer and shouldn't be excused - in this case Buck did ABSOLUTLEY nothing wrong. He literally has been sad because Bobby died and is trying to support his friends. And then he was also sad because his best friend didn't tell him a) he got a job in el paso and b) he was going back to el paso. Neither of those things in any way should have resulted in Eddie tearing him apart with his words and then shoving him and almost hitting him. And the argument has been made that "Eddie is grieving too". Yes he is - but that still is no reason to resort to violence. It was a totally over the top reaction, both his words (which were super abusive too) and his physical actions. And then to top it all off he does what Eddie always does - he doesn't take responsibility. He calls in Chris and Pepa to clean up his mess and he can go back to being Bucks "best friend" whithout so much as an "I'm sorry". And you know what? Its going to happen again.

Lastly - from the fandom side of things - everyone condemned the first two things when they happened as fucked up. (Well at least the Chimney one, I imagine we can all look back at the Bobby one since it was super early on and upon rewatch say that its definitely out of character). Thats one of the reasons they stick out so much - because everyone was like "damn, that was crazy". For at least half the fandom today all I've seen is some people totally excusing Eddie's behavior!! I love Chim to death but I don't think he was justified in hitting Buck and I'm glad they moved past it and it didn't become a regular occurrence. If Chim was out there punching people left and right every season I'd like his character a lot less too.

All of this to say - I'm done with Eddie Diaz. I'm upset that it looks like he may be back next season, but I will just deal and enjoy the other storylines. But for me his character doesn't get to come back from this, it was the final straw in a long history of being an ass. If you got this far thanks for reading and hopefully I'm not clogging your ask box with this insanely long read!!!

Yes! I love this! Thank you for sharing your thoughts ❤️