put this mouthguard * *

Nah sod Single Ladies this is my fav bit i’M CRYING!!! Benedict put the WHOLE MOUTHGUARD IN HIS MOUTH BETWEEN HIS LIPS AND HIS TEETH . HOLY fuck, you’re supposed to tuck your lips AROUND it!! Like what Wong’s done and Benedict’s like put the whole thing in his mouth so BW is trying to tell him to tuck his lips around it i’m laughing so much typsning thisa i’m so… BW’s like DUDE NOOO ahahahaha  I played this before in a group and someone did the same thing omg there’s always one, THERE’S ALWAYS ONE!! and it just had to be BC. I’m howling.

Requested (Pete Dunne x Reader) + “You’re just a bitch because you’re closer to hell, you midget.”

“You’re just a bitch because you’re closer to hell, you midget.” + Pete Dunne

A/N: Requested by anon! I’m so glad you guys love Pete Dunne as much as I do. I wonder if he’ll ever end up on Raw or Smackdown. I’d love it. I love my bruiserweight <3. For the record, I don’t ever write the accent, because I feel like the imagination part of it, it has a bit of a charm.

Word Count: 1,930 (I’m sorry i love Pete)

Originally posted by petedunnesource

(Y/N) (L/N) was the shortest of the short. Tiny. She was known backstage as the “midget makeup artist”, even though she technically wasn’t a midget, and honestly, to her she didn’t seem that short. 5’0” was not too short, was it?

Often times when she did the roster’s makeup for the NXT roster, she often used a step stool, and though the other girls tried to convince her, she downright refused to wear heels. After what happened in sixth grade when she broke her ankle? Hell no.

Ah, NXT, how she had gotten there, she sometimes wondered. She had started out in her home state of Pennsylvania doing makeup for news crews and small time tv shows, but people started to notice her talent. People in the athletic department. Specifically? Wrestling. Wrestling needed people who could do makeup well enough to stay on despite sweat and movement, and so you were hired.

She’d bought an apartment in Winter Park in Florida for surprisingly cheap. It was only after she moved in, though, that she realized how close the arena where the NXT division was based out of, trained, and performed when not touring.

And so, one week after she moved in, she walked to the sports and training center, where she was to meet her new boss in the design wing and then have a meet and greet with her new clientele.

At first step through the door, after the initial assault on the sense of smell from B.O., she dropped her coat, and slung it over her arm.

She walked in and looked around, taking in her surroundings, where various wrestlers were punching bags and sparring. Few noticed her arrival, as the heavy rock music was blaring over the loudspeakers. She knew the song and hummed along, and as she stepped in, a man in a tux walked towards her.

Triple H, in a button up shirt and slacks stood before her, and she almost bowed.

“Oh my god, you’re triple H!” She squealed quietly, and the old man chuckled, extending a hand to her, which she shook.

“That I am, dear, but you can call me Mr. H. You must be (Y/N) (L/N), our newest edition to the design crew.”

She nodded, “That I am, sir, and I’m real excited to be here.” She gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth before dropping it slowly, “I’m so sorry, Mr. H, my accent comes out when I’m happy.”

Triple H nodded, chuckling, “Well then I should hope your accent will always be present while you’re working here. Shall we?”

Wow, he was politer than she’d expected.

The tour of the NXT department began right there in the bottom floor with the rings, when Triple H whistled and everyone froze.

She gulped when all the pairs of eyes in the room turned to stare at her, and she could feel her cheeks flush red.

“Who’s the short stack?” Asked a british voice, and your cheeks flushed again, but this time in anger as you whipped your head towards the ring where a long haired, brutish-looking wrestler was sneering at her and she clenched her jaw.

“The name is (Y/N). Not short stack.” She bit out, and Triple H’s hand landed on her shoulder with a chuckle.

“Take it you don’t like short jokes?” The brute in the ring said and she crossed her arms.

“I can name things I enjoy more.”

“Reaching the top shelf?”

Snickers were heard from the surrounding room.

“Pete,” Triple H said, obviously fighting back laughter, “Be nice, please. She already has to put up with you for at least a year before her contract is up. You will both be in for a long one if you can’t get along.”

Her and the Bruiserweight glared at each other, and she stuck her tongue out at him, making a blonde girl giggle.

The blonde skipped up to (Y/N), “Hi there! I’m Liv, you’ll probably spend most of your time on me. I get so worried about my hair.”

(Y/N) chuckled, “Why? It’s perfect!”

And that was how that day had started, and how (Y/N) had made a best friend named Liv Morgan, and a nemesis named Pete Dunne.

In fact, she was supposed to be dealing with the former at that very moment, and Liv’s manicured nails snapping in front of her face brought her from her reminiscent reverie, and Liv was giving her a look.

“(Y/N), are you alright? You seem kind of out of it…” Liv asked, concerned, and (Y/N) chuckled, picking up her scissors and starting to brush out Liv’s hair.

“Oh nothing’s wrong. I guess with the end of the year coming up I’m thinking about how I got here in the first place. It’s crazy to think about, you know?”

Liv nodded, “Have you decided you’re gonna stay here?”

“Of course, Liv, I can always take college classes online. I could never give up doing what I love.”

Liv smiled at (Y/N) in the mirror, “I’m glad you’re staying, I know Pete makes it hard for you sometimes.”

The hairstylist groaned, Pete. The bane of her existence. The pain in her ass. The biggest annoyance in Florida and possibly the United States. The brash, British, tough, mean bruiserweight who she…was in love with.

Only Liv knew how (Y/N) really felt about the UK Champion, and only Liv knew why she had never tried to make any advances. Pete was mean to her. He constantly remarked about her height, her accent, her weight, her looks.

Count on (Y/N) to have a crush on the biggest asshole in sports entertainment.

But, it wasn’t always like that. Sometimes, when it was just them and Pete was absolutely sure that nobody else was around, he was sometimes friendly. At least, as friendly as he was capable of. He still sneered a lot.

He would ask her about Pennsylvania, what it was like. He would ask her about work. He would talk to her like a co-worker, but all of it changed when someone else walked in. Then, she was short stack.

“You should really ask him what’s up, (Y/N). You have to figure out what game he’s playing,” Liv murmured, and the shorter woman shook her head.

“Liv, I know he doesn’t feel the same, what’s the point? Maybe the longer I’m here, he’ll warm up to me more.”

Liv rolled her eyes, “For god’s sake doll, it’s been a year. He shouldn’t still be acting like a junior high boy.”

(Y/N) sighed, “I don’t know, let’s just do your makeup.”

And that was what she did, but it was when she was packing up her things was when things started to go wrong. First, she dropped a 40-dollar eye shadow palette on the floor, shattering it and making the world’s largest mess.

Then, upon opening the closet to find a broom, sixteen spiders, 3 moths, two brooms, a vacuum cleaner and the souls of the damned came falling out at her feet, covering her shoes and pants in cobwebs and dust.

It had taken an hour to clean up and kill the spiders, and clean the closet to the best of her ability, and then upon going to change her pants, she found herself with two options: Wear the dirty ones, or change into her pajama shorts, which happened to be Pete Dunne’s fucking merch, and exposed a little too much of her short legs.

So, she had done her best to clean up the pants, and had grabbed her purse and walked towards catering, where she rounded a corner and slammed into an all-too familiar chest and had fallen, dumping her bottle of water on herself and dropping her purse rather forcefully, throwing loose tampons and makeup products around her, and for a minute she just sat on the floor, burying her head in her hands as Pete Dunne doubled over laughing above her.

“Oh shut the hell up, you overgrown Dalmatian.” You snarled from the floor, trying to brush her things back into her purse.

That silenced the bruiser, who scoffed, “You’re just a bitch because you’re closer to hell, you midget.”

She stood, brushing off her legs, looking at the floor, fighting back her tears. Today was so hard. She kept her face cast downwards as she pushed past Pete.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” she deadpanned as she walked away from him, but only for a few seconds, as she heard his footsteps following.

“Hey, (Y/N), you okay?”

She stopped, before whirling on him, “Since when in the fresh fuck has the great Pete Dunne gave a rat’s ass if I was okay or not?” She snarled, and Pete stopped.

The floodgates had opened, there was no turning back now.

“From the day I walked into this building, you have been a bipolar asshole, talking to me one night, making fun of me the next, you’re a real dick, you know that? I try my hardest each and every night to make you like me, I always bring you water, I always make sure there’s food ready at catering, I always sew your jacket when you tear it, I always put your mouthguard with your things when I find it laying about, I always protect your championship belt. Do you know how many time’s Tyler’s tried to steal it to fuck with you? I never let it happen. I always wear your merch, I always-“


The furious woman stopped, angry tears now pouring down her cheeks as Pete closed the distance between them.

“All…all that stuff was you?” He mumbled, looking at her almost sheepishly.

“Yes, you fuck, all of it was me. I fucking like you, and you don’t even care!”



“I like you too. I’m sorry, I just…I don’t know how to deal with things like that. I thought maybe if I was a dick to you, then you would stay away from me and I could ignore this stupid crush I have, but I can’t. I…I’m sorry.”

(Y/N) gawked at him, amazed at what she was hearing, before pinching herself and regaining her composure. She coughed awkwardly, “Apology accepted.”

He chuckled, and then she chuckled, and then they were both giggling, and then both of them were doubled-over laughing in the hallway, and then he was pulling her into him, and she was hugging him, and he was kissing the top of her head.

“I’m a real idiot, aren’t I?” He laughed out, and she nodded.

“Yeah, you are, you big doof.”

“Let’s go to dinner,” He said, stepping back from her slightly, “Consider it our first date as not-enemies.”

The five-foot woman smiled, “Okay, Mr. Dunne, I will go on a date with you, but you should know you are currently in my debt greatly for a year of tears.”

He laughed, taking her hand and kissing the back of it, “Then I’ll take you shopping tomorrow. You can buy as many books as you want. And we can discuss you calling me a Dalmatian.”

The two of them laughed, and as he handed her his water bottle to replace the one she spilled, she smiled. He was such a schoolboy.

Being standby medic at a charity MMA match was not Danny’s idea of a fun Saturday. He would much rather be at home, watching tv in his boxers than standing in the crowded area around the cage watching two people beat the ever loving crap out of each other for the kids. In his opinion, any kids who were watching something this violent need more charity than what the Leiomano Foundation could give them. But despite his opposition to the fight, he needed the extra money and he couldn’t thank Meka enough for getting him the gig.

“Follow the light,” Danny tells his latest patient and watches his pupils as the fighter tracks his penlight. Danny had seen him take a couple hard blows to the head but he doesn’t seem to have any resulting injury from them. He starts checking over the guys’ other injuries, only half paying attention to the rest of the event going on around him when he hears the announcer call out the next fighters.

“Any pain in your neck?” he asks, barely hearing the guy tell him no as the announcers’ words sink in. “Ice your hand and you’ll be fine,” he says distractedly, handing over an ice pack and scanning the crowd because there’s no way he heard the announcer just introduce hometown hero Steve McGarrett.

As soon as he turns around he immediately spots Steve walking down the aisle towards the cage and he swears his heart actually stops before the traitorous thing starts beating double-time. Steve is wearing nothing but some low-slung red boxing shorts and the man is glistening in the lights. It’s completely indecent and the fact that it’s turning Danny on is not helping anything. He makes his way through the crowd towards Steve and is more surprised than he should be that he manages to speak clearly with Steve looking like that.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he shouts over the roar of the crowd and Steve fucking beams at him.

“Danno! I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Yes, because I am a paramedic and, unlike you, have a reason to be here. So I will ask again, what the hell are you doing here?” He shouts, ignoring the snickers of the girl standing behind Steve, Lori he thinks her name is.

“I’m filling in for a guy,” Steve says, bouncing around in a way that is entirely too distracting, “He was a suspect and I dislocated his shoulder when he resisted arrest.”

“Of course you did,“ Danny says to himself, running a hand through his hair, “Why you? They don’t have any other people who want to get beat up for fun on this entire island?”

“It was short notice, and it’s not just for fun, Danno.”

“But it is fun for you,” he says. Steve just grins at him and it’s all the confirmation he needs.

“Just do me a favor and watch yourself in there okay? I’ve treated too many broken bones tonight,” he warns, silently bemoaning the fact that he has a crush on a giant adrenaline junkie. Though, after nearly three years of knowing Steve and Five-0, he shouldn’t be surprised at Steve’s antics anymore.  

“Is that concern I see there?” Steve teases, letting Lori put his mouthguard in for him, running his tongue over it to make sure it’s in place, and oh how Danny wishes he was that piece of plastic.

“Just don’t get yourself killed,” Danny says, backing away so Steve can enter the ring and he absolutely does not blush when Steve winks at him and says “Love you too, Danno.”

The gate to the cage closes behind Steve and Danny groans, stepping up beside Lori as the fight starts. “This isn’t me supporting this,” he says as the bell dings.

“Sure, sure,” Lori agrees and he just knows that she’s laughing at him.

He want’s to say something back but Steve gets hit for the first time and Danny’s entire focus is brought to the fight in front of him. Steve’s good, but he’s not trained in MMA and Danny knows how this is going to end even if Steve refuses to see it. He’s proven right when Steve’s opponent punches him and Steve goes reeling back into the fencing.

“Steve! Steve, just stay down. It’s a charity fight, just don’t get up,” he yells over the crowd, noting Steve’s dazed look.

“God, you’re beautiful, Danny!” Steve yells back and Danny freezes mid shout, “We should go out.”

Are you kidding me!” Danny explodes as Steve stands up, “Now! Three years and you think that now is the right time to ask me out!”

Steve gives him a smile before jumping off of the cage and punching his opponent in the jaw. The crowd erupts into cheers but he’s still yelling as Steve, ignoring through sheer force of will alone how hot that move was. The fight only lasts a couple seconds longer before the other guy throws Steve over his shoulder and Danny knows that it’s over. The crowd cheers as the referee calls the fight and he stands at the ready as Steve stumbles out of the ring.

“What hurts?” he asks as soon as Steve’s in front of him. He takes the mouthguard out for him so that Steve can answer, and starts inspecting the bruising on his face.


“Does anything feel broken?”


“Follow my finger,“ Danny orders Steve, holding a finger up in front of him but Steve moves it out of the way. “I’m not letting you go without checking you out first,” Danny says which, in hindsight, he realizes is a mistake because no sooner have the words left his mouth than Steve pulls him close and kisses him.

Danny does not melt into the kiss, but boy does he want to and it’s only the resounding wolf whistles from the rest of the Five-0 team that make him pull away. There are congratulations all around -for the fight and the kiss- and the crowd had already started to file out of the stadium when Steve wraps an arm around him and says, “Come on Danno. Take me home.”

“Home? You’re not going home buddy, you’re going to the hospital to get your head checked. Maybe they can finally figure out what’s wrong with you that would make you agree to this,” he complains as he leads Steve back up to the locker room, but he doesn’t move out from under Steve’s arm and he doesn’t complain when Steve pulls him in for another kiss.

Halloween Spirit- Creepypasta Boyfriend Scenarios [When You Wear His Clothes]

Notes: [f/n]= first name

I don’t know what to call the cloth Toby wears on his mouth, so I’m calling it a mouthguard. *shrugs*

When You Wear His Clothes

Out of boredom, I decide to explore my boyfriend’s room a bit, just a little bit mind you! I wonder what I’ll find….


Slendie’s room is rather boring, truthfully. He keeps everything simple, except for one little detail, that detail being his desk covered by a bunch of notes with weird messages. I’ve been busying myself by looking through the notes, but after awhile, it starts to become rather boring. So I move on to his closet, to see what skeletons he’s hiding (God, please let there seriously be no skeletons). When I open it, I’m a bit relieved (if a bit disappointed) to find the closet to only be filled with a bunch of suits. I wonder, what would I look like wearing one? Slendie’s much taller than me, and the sight of me trying to fit one of his suits amuses me. So, with nothing else better to do, I pluck one of the suits off of its hanger.

I carefully fit my arms through the suit’s long sleeves, only the sleeves are much too long for me. My hands are nowhere to be seen as the sleeves dangle past my hips. What’s worse is I don’t even need the pants, for the shirt almost looks like a dress on me. Slendie has no mirror in his room (why need one when he has no face?) so I head towards the bathroom. Luckily, I don’t run into anyone on the way there. When I see myself in the mirror, I giggle a bit to myself. I look ridiculous! I wave around my arm to watch one of the sleeves flap about.

Satisfied, I walk out of the room. Only, I’m blocked by a familiar black suit. My eyes trail upwards to meet Slendie’s faceless head. “Oh, um, Slendie, I was just, uh, trying on your suit,” I explain hastily.

He doesn’t respond, and instead he quietly inspects me. I fidget under his gaze, feeling much more smaller when I’m in his suit. Out of everything I expected him to say, I didn’t expect him to say, “You look adorable.”

I blush at the compliment. “Thanks, but I look ridiculous,” I say shyly.

He chuckles at me. “You look so tiny. In fact,” he bends over and scoops me into his arms, “I want to hold you close when you look like this.”

I bury my face against his chest as he presses me close. The smell of him surrounds me everywhere, the smell of the forest. I feel like I’m hidden from the world as Slendie’s arms encase me, his scent wrapped around me.

I’ve never felt more at home.



“…..Why is this here?” I ask to myself as I hold up a Link costume. A note flutters off of the costume, so I bend over and grab it.

Written on the note is, ‘Hey, figured you would like to cosplay me. Enjoy! Love, Ben.’ I can hear the snicker he had while writing this note in my mind. I don’t mind cosplay, so I’m actually glad he bought me this, even if it was bought in a teasing manner. I’ll show him, watch me pull off the look! Determined, I pull on the costume. After checking a mirror, I determine I look pretty good.

Filled with confidence, I stride to the television and call his name, “Ben!” When the television flickers on, I wear a smirk as I place my hands on my hips. “What do you think?” What I did not expect was for him to turn beet red. After standing in that same pose for so long, I start to feel embarrassed as his gaze drills holes in me. I cough a bit, hinting for him to hurry up and answer me.

“You’re actually wearing it?” he asks, dumbfounded.   

“Well, yeah! Link is badass, so I couldn’t resist cosplaying him. Why, do I look bad?” I ask a bit nervously. I didn’t think I looked bad, but….

“No, just the opposite!” Ben blurts outs. He recovers and tries to look smooth. “You look like you’re my property.”

I roll my eyes at him, but I can’t help but wear a relieved smile. “Shouldn’t I technically be Link’s property in this getup?” I say teasingly.

He flickers in front of me, a mocking scowl on his face. “No, you’re mine,” he says possessively, then swoops down to steal a kiss from me.

When he pulls away, I say with a smirk, “Isn’t it kind of like you’re kissing yourself?”

He smiles seductively back. “Hey, selfcest can be kind of sexy,” he replies, gently pushing me against the wall as he kisses me harder.

I decide to ask how he knew my measurements at another time.


Jeff the Killer:

“I’m taking a shower,” Jeff informs me. “Want to join me?”

“No!” I shriek, blushing madly. Jeff flashes a smirk at me before starting to lift his hoodie, revealing his chest. “Jeff, no, I’m still in the room!” I cry as I cover my eyes with my hands.   

“So? You’re my lover,” he says, and I feel cloth cover me as Jeff tosses the hoodie at me. “I’ll be back soon, don’t go anywhere.”

“You better be dressed when you get back!” I yell after him. Jeez, now I’m all hot and flustered! “Jerk,” I grumble to myself as I inspect the hoodie in my hands. Hmm….I check to make sure he’s gone, finding the coast to be clear. Alone, I lift the hoodie to my face, taking a big whiff of it. It smells just like Jeff, the smell stimulating my senses and making my heart warm. I tug on the hoodie, finding it to be just a little bit big on me.

With the warmth of his hoodie and his scent surrounding me, it’s almost like I’m being embraced by Jeff. I hug my arms around me, relishing the feel of the hoodie. I can’t help the soft smile on my face as my head and senses is filled with Jeff.

However, I didn’t think I’d fall asleep on his bed wearing his hoodie. I didn’t realize how tired I was, and the warmth of the hoodie lulled me to sleep. “[f/n], what are you doing?” a familiar voice asks me.

My eyes flutter open, Jeff’s face coming into focus. I’d bolt up if it wasn’t for the fact that his face is inches from my own. “Jeff!” I cry, a blush settling on my face. “Sorry, you left it with me, and I wanted to try it on, I didn’t mean to sleep with it on….,” I trail off as his eyes travel up and down my body. Which doesn’t help my blush.

“I like it,” he tells me. “There’s something about you wearing my clothes that makes me want to do stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?” I shyly ask.

His eyes gleam with desire. “I’ll show you,” he huskily tells me, and whatever distance we had is closed by his lips.

I gotta say, wearing the hoodie was nice, but with Jeff kissing me….I kind of want him to take it off.   


Ticci Toby:

“[f/n], try this on!” Toby exclaims excitedly, thrusting his goggles towards me.

    Me, I stare at him like he’s crazy (ignoring the fact that he actually is crazy). “Uh, why?” I ask.

    “Because! I want to see how you’ll look in it,” he explains.

    Doubtfully, I grab the goggles and place them over my eyes. “How do I look?” I ask him, feeling like I look silly.

    “You look good,” he assures me. He hastily pulls off his mouthguard and hands it to me. “Now put this on!”

Even though I’m confused, I obediently put on the mouthguard. “And?” I press. Then he starts to lift off his hoodie, revealing his chest. “Toby! I’m right here!”

He chuckles at me before pulling the hoodie down on my head. “Put this on, too,” he demands.

I groan at him as I tug on the hoodie. As I’m readjusting the goggles so they fit right, I turn to Toby exaggeratedly and ask, “Why on earth am I wearing this?”

“Because you look really cute wearing my clothes!” he explains cheerfully. He steps closer to me, his bare chest painfully obvious. “And, you look really sexy, too.”

Well I highly doubt I look sexy wearing goggles and a mouthguard, I’m too distracted by Toby’s sexiness to care. “I think you look better in them,” I mumble, trying to avoid looking at him. However, when he tackles me to the ground, I can’t help but look at him.   

“Oh no, you look stunning,” he huskily insists. “Irresistible, in fact.” He presses his lips against the mouthguard, and I desperately don’t want it on anymore. But before I can yank it off, his lips move to my neck, pressing softly against my bare skin. I whimper against the contact, and I can feel Toby smirk against my skin. “But the mouthguard has to go,” he says as he yanks it off himself. He presses his lips against my own, and I thankfully respond.

I think we can both agree that sometimes, it’s better to go without the mouthguard.


Eyeless Jack:

“Jack, are you in here?” I call into his bedroom. Damn, he’s always disappearing on me! The man’s like a shadow: there one minute, gone the next. I’m about to look somewhere else when I notice a familiar blue mask laying on a table. Walking closer, I find it to be Jack’s mask. What is he doing walking around without it? I pick it up, inspecting it closely. Why does Jack even wear it, anyways? Probably to make him look otherworldly or something.

Curious, I place the mask on. Jack doesn’t bother keeping a mirror in his room, so I walk to a bathroom. With the mask on, I kind of look like him. You know, except I have eyes. With the mask still on, I return to Jack’s bedroom. However, I didn’t expect him to be there when I got back. He stares at me, then points out, “That’s my mask.”

“Yeah, I know,” I reply, a bit embarrassed to be found wearing it. “I’ll give it back.”

“No need,” Jack replies, taking off the mask and tossing it. He then proceeds to drag me to his bed, pinning me down.

“Jack!” I squeal as he starts kissing my neck.

“I didn’t want the mask,” he tells me as he places kisses on my neck. “It gets in the way.”

Wait, does that mean…“Were you looking for me?” I ask. That would explain why he left his mask behind.

“Yes,” he softly replies against my skin.

“Oh,” I breath, distracted by his lips as they trails kisses on my collarbone. His tongue darts from his mouth and licks my skin. I moan in delight as he tastes me.

“You take delicious, [f/n],” Jack says before nibbling softly at my skin.

“Ah!” I cry as he bites down a bit harder. He suckles and nibbles at my skin, leaving behind a mark. His lips trail around my neck as he leaves various marks.

Needless to say, I had to keep my neck covered for a while to hide the various hickies he left me.

Everyone Needs Comfort (Bucky Barnes X Reader)

I got this story based off this request,

“the reader and bucky live in the avengers tower and tony has to check bucky’s arm (check for a kill switch, clean it, fix it up) and bucky gets scared cause hydra would do everything to him painfully and without anesthetics so the reader stays with him the whole procedure to calm him down” this is a prompt i saw somewhere else but id super love this!!

Y/N - your name

You and Bucky became best friends as soon as he walked into the tower, although it did take a little bit of prying to get him to open up to you. None the less, you made it happen and you loved the soldier to death. He was like your older, but also younger brother all at the same time.

A few weeks before he showed up you were the new person so you knew how it felt to feel alone in the large tower. That is a big reason why you took the soldier in under your wing. Who else would help him when he got lost? Or help him get Tony back after he pulled a newbie prank on him? Or help him get off the magnets that Natasha and Clint had stuck to his metal arm? You just didn’t want Bucky to feel the way you did your first few weeks in the tower, alone.

The first few weeks of his being in the tower were perfect, or as close as it could come. The two of you would go for walks in Central Park and laugh and have a good time, and if someone stared at his silver arm you would both walk up to them and Buck would say,

“So, I see you were staring at my arm. Do you have any questions about it, or were you just being rude, cupcake?”

That simple question usually had your victim terrified and nervous. They always replied with a shaky “No” and hurry away. The rest of the day you and Bucky would laugh, but then that night feel terrible about it.

Everything was great. The two are you would mess around and Steve would join you guys on occasion when he wasn’t on a mission. The three of you got so close you were practically inseparable. You didn’t realize how close you were to Bucky until one day.

You were sitting in your bedroom reading a book you had gotten from the tower library earlier, when you heard someone called for you.

“Miss Y/L/N, Mr. Stark is calling for you in the lab.”

“Thank you FRIDAY. Do you know what he wants?”

You say placing a bookmark in your book and placing it on your nightstand.

“Sorry, no idea.”

You padded your way to the lab, not before stopping in the kitchen and grabbing a thing of Oreos.

Walking into the chrome lab, you say two very unusual sights. Bucky looked as though he was in serious disparity, and Tony had a look that was a combination of nervousness and annoyance. When you first walked in they didn’t notice you being there, you walked over to the nearest table and gave a little knock to the metal metal surface.

“Hey, kiddo, we need your help with something.”

“Of course, anything. What do I need to do, Tony?

"I am going to let Barnes explain. I am going to leave you guys to a few minutes of privacy.”

You looked to Bucky with a confused look as Tony walked out of the room.

“I need you, Y/N. Steve is not here and I need you. Tony is going to be doing some stuff on my arm and it just scares me. HYDRA would put a mouthguard in my mouth and then torture me. I just can’t go through that anymore.”

You opened your arms, calling him over to you. He jumped off of the table he was perched on and engulfed you in his arms and warm musk.

“Muffin, I will always be there for you. No matter what, and I think you deserve these oreos a little more than me. Good thing I ran the risk of being late to grab this package of heaven.”

You broke free of loving grip to grab the blue package from the table you knocked on earlier, and turned around and handed it to the tall man.

"You always know how to cheer me up, darling.”

The two of you ate Oreos for a few more minutes before Tony came bursting back into the lab.

“So, are we ready to get this party started?”

Bucky glanced over and gave you a look full of worry, you gave him a smile and grabbed his hand before saying,

“As ready as we will ever be.”

You and Bucky walked slowly over to the medical chair Buck would be sitting in. While Bucky was sitting down, Tony grabbed you a spinning desk chair and placed it to the right of where your best friend would be laying. Before Tony walked to the other side of the chair that looked like it belong in a high tech dentist office, he bend down and whispered in your ear,

“Thank you. Without you Bucky said he wouldn’t have let me work on his arm.”

He then paired the sweet sentence with an equally sweet and gentle kiss on the cheek.

“Ok, Bucky. I am just going to take a few plates off and make sure your arm is all in working order, we need you at the top of your game. If at any point it starts to hurt, let Y/N know. We can go get you some anesthetics and help dull down the pain. We don’t want to hurt you.”

Bucky gave a little nod and looked to you.

“It is going to be all right, Muffin. We are not going to let anything bad happen to you. I will be right here the whole time, squeezing your hand. If you don’t want to look at your arm, just keep your gorgeous blue eyes locked on mine. Maybe if you are good we can go get icecream.”

That last sentence got a laugh from Tony and Bucky.

After Tony had gotten all of his tools and stuff together, he began to take plates off of Bucky’s arm. One by one, he took 6 metal plates off of his arm and placed them on the table next to him. You could tell that the sight of his arm being torn apart was starting to make Bucky a little uneasy and nauseous, I need to do something to help distract him, you thought to yourself.

After a few seconds of thinking, you knew exactly what to do. You had both of your hands cover and playing with Bucky’s right hand. You removed your right hand and placed it on his chin, moving his head to face you.

Without any warning, you started to lean in and before you knew it, you were in a gentle kiss with the Winter Soldier himself. You pulled away a few seconds into the kiss and the two of you just stared at each other for a few seconds before the silence was broken.

“You know, I was wondering when this was going to happen. Natasha and Clint own Steve and Me 20 bucks now, thanks love birds.”

With the last few words coming out of Tony’s mouth, he screwed on the final plate and Bucky’s check up was done.

Bucky slowly rose from the chair and pulled you out of yours, engulfing you in another hug and lifting you into the air. Once he lifted you up so you were at eye level, he pulled you into a much deeper kiss. After what felt like forever, he pulled away and mumbled against your hair,

“I love you, darling.”

“I love you too, muffin.”

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nshfdhsd i missed the promo from before TLC where Cesaro deliberately waits to put in his mouthguard before speaking. that is so funny what the hell

two possibilities here: either Cesaro doesn’t want to show his braces/splints, or Cesaro is really enjoying fucking with people at this point

A couple of times the panic of being touched gets him in trouble because someone will brush past him on the street and when they bump into him by accident he jerks around to stare them down, ready to take them out, only to see that it was a mistake and they didn’t even notice, and they’re already walking away. People on the street avoid him because there’s a strange languidness to his gait that violently changes to poker-straight clockwork motions without warning. 

It’s a moment-by-moment battle to relearn how to react to the world like a human being; to keep himself from winding up and killing the guy on the bus who gives him a dirty look and instead just put his head down and looks somewhere else. He can’t trust his threat-evaluation training anymore. 

His eyes widen in panic when steve and natasha try to reach out to him the first time; they’re just trying to be kind because they see his haggard face and sloppy, dirty clothes but the last time somebody reached out to him it was to put a cracked rubber mouthguard in between his clenched teeth. 

flashbacks of a faded war and the phantom feeling of a left hand blur with the memories of being paralyzed in the cold and endless dreams of ice. Was it yesterday that his body tingled with tiny hot needles as it thawed, his muscles atrophied and his limbs numb….. over and over again waking to different voices talking to each other but ignoring the huddled, shivering form that they hosed down with stinging hot water. (He’s just sitting there why doesn’t he get up?)(Hey, hey can you hear me? Get up!) rubber-gloved hands clamping on the base of his skull and forcing his eyes upward into the glare of fluorescents. He gasps, coughs up some of the water that went down his throat, but his lungs are stiff and icy. (Get up!) The rubber-gloved hand strikes him across the face and he falls back, but even that he barely feels, his skin is too cold. Another blast of hot water, there’s something about how they’re running late and that’ll have to do for now. rubber gloves grab him by the shoulders and force him to stand; they half-dress him roughly with a grunt about why he’s not coordinated enough to do it himself; they tape sensors to his chest and stick a needle into his wrist, pushing him down into a chair. It has enough of a familiarity to it that  he cooperates, and when they put in the mouth guard he opens his mouth and bites down….

pain melds together memories after that; he sees the outside world as if through a dream, and all the while he’s far away while his body kills with mechanical precision….

it’s a long time before he learns that someone reaching out to touch him will not always hurt…many long days of kind words and predictable movements and reassuring praise. Even then, there’s always a moment of uneasiness that a tiny trigger will take him all the way back and he’ll be lost in his own head again. He’s not sure how to mouth sorry to them when he reacts to their warmth with apathy. After enough smiles and assurances that it’s okay, he starts to think maybe it is enough that he just gets up every morning, eats, and gets dressed, even though some days all he can feel is cold.