#this is just such a House line that comes out of Wilson's mouth there I can't

[thankstothe]

#house md #gregory house #james wilson #hilson #screencap #s07e17 “Fall from Grace” #s08e13 “Man of the House” #thing to say to your wife #on your honeymoon #and your boybestfriend #yeah so the phrasing is begging me to say that #house sleeps with married men #and unmarried women #and wilson sleeps with married women #and unmarried men? #the geometry is simple #house wasnt married while wilson was #and I'll throw you a curve ball #this is just such a House line that comes out of Wilson's mouth there I can't #Wilson might be tossing House's line back at him #I can imagine House saying this to Wilson while he was married #and now Wilson can say it since the marriage status is reversed #ORor wilson has good relationship with dominika and she told him about this line #no officer I'm not overthinking it

[shanastoryteller]

Happy birthday!!!! I love your blog so much, this is my first time making it to the asks!

Dealer’s choice!!

He waits two weeks and five days, which is seventeen days longer than he thinks is necessary.

However, it’s how long it takes for the Cuban couple to be discharged. He’s not sure if this is the time to indulge in symmetry or ritual when it’s never done him much good before, but he supposes he’s trying something new.

Cuddy is still furious at him over firing Chase. Wilson isn’t much better, oscillating between pity and disappointment, which is just obnoxious. The new guitar is at least a decent distraction. The downside is he has to actually spend most of his days in the clinic to avoid taking another case, which he doesn’t want to do just yet.

Symmetry and ritual and all that.

The day after the couple is gone, he sleeps in then drives his bike in the opposite direction of the hospital.

He has to hit his cane on the door for over a minute before it flies open and Chase is standing there, hair sleep mussed and mouth pulled into a scowl. “What do you want, House?”

It’s too soon to smile, so he doesn’t. “Is Cameron here? I assume she is, otherwise I’ll have to come back later which would be a huge pain. Why do you live downtown? The traffic is awful.”

“If you’re looking for Cameron, go to her apartment,” Chase says, moving to shut the door in his face.

They grow up so fast.

He shoves his cane in the door because he’s not willing to risk his foot and Chase glares at it like he’s seriously considering trying to snap it with the door anyway. “I didn’t say I was looking for Cameron. I asked if she was here. How much have you been drinking? You can’t be losing braincells that quickly.”

Chase’s expression turns considering, which almost makes him smile again.

The door is flung wide open and Cameron is standing there, hair greasy and wearing one of Chase’s button ups over a pair of leggings and glaring at him like he’s something on the bottom of her shoe. “Go away, House. You’ve done enough.”

“Good,” he says. “Have you eaten yet?”

Cameron’s eyes narrow. Chase asks, “Why?”

“There’s a half decent restaurant about a mile from here. We could get breakfast,” he says, still refusing to smile, but now it’s out of self preservation. If they slam the door in his face, he can play it off as a joke. Or he can start stalking them.

Playing it off as a joke is the safe option. The socially acceptable one.

But he’d foregone the safe option when he’d fired Chase.

“I’m not coming back,” Cameron says firmly, lifting her chin in challenge.

“I don’t want you to come back,” he says. It’s true in the way she means, at least. “So, breakfast? It’s the most important meal of the day.”

“It’s noon,” she says coldly.

“Lunch, then,” he amends. “My treat, considering you’re both unemployed. A bit careless of you, to leave one job without having another lined up, but such are the mistakes of youth.”

Maybe other people can get things and people and relationship with honey rather than vinegar. His personal experience has leaned more towards catching each one by the wings and shoving it in the jar himself. His metaphorical jar has airholes, so he doesn’t get what everyone is always so upset about.

Cameron is still glaring but Chase has relaxed. Cameron may have wanted to understand him, had tried to study him and make sense of him, but Chase had always been better at it. A life of a shit father and being a huge kiss ass has given him selectively useful skills. Chase says, “Brunch. I want pancakes.”

“Chase!” Cameron shouts at the same time as House says, “Cool.”

“I’ll drive,” he says, nudging Cameron out the door even as he leans further into the apartment to grab his keys. “You would have made a stronger argument if you’d brought the corvette instead of your bike.”

“Well,” he says, finally letting a smile tug across his face. Cameron stares. “I wouldn’t have wanted you to agree for the wrong reasons.”

~

Cameron thinks she has to be asleep. This can’t be real.

But they’re sitting in a booth in an old school diner that still smells faintly of cigarette smoke, which gives her some indication of how long it’s been in business, and House is stretched out in the opposite seat, leaning his back against the wall and with his legs crossed in front of him.

“Aren’t you going to look at the menu?” she asks as Chase flips through the multiple pages, House looks at the ceiling, and she looks at him.

“Nope,” he answers.

“Are you going to tell us what we’re doing here?” she presses.

He turns to look at her, eyebrow raised. “We’re getting brunch.”

There’s nothing heavy at the table, but she could probably do some damage with the fork. It’s not like he can run very far.

The waitress comes back, settling coffees in front of all of them. Chase orders chocolate chip pancakes, bacon, and eggs. House gets the steak omelet, which the sign they’d passed on the way in had proclaimed was this week’s special. She still hasn’t looked at the menu so she says, “You order for me.”

House rolls his eyes. “The little lady will have one slice of the stuffed French toast, scrambled egg whites, and the fruit cup. No grapes.”

She wouldn’t have ordered the stuffed French toast for herself, but she does want it. She’s not sure what she’s supposed to read into that.

The waitress says, “Aw, introducing the new boyfriend to your father? That’s so sweet.”

Chase freezes while Cameron feels her mouth drop open and she tries to say something but finds she can only get out a strangled, “Ah.”

“Kids sure do grow up fast,” House says, his disconcertingly normal smile of before having stretched into a much more familiar smarmy grin. He at least waits for the waitress to leave before asking, “Tell me, Cameron, have you ever gotten urge to call me daddy?”

“Oh my god,” she breathes, “why would she-”

“You both look like children outside of suits and lab coats,” he says. “Or maybe I just look especially old today. Or maybe she clocked our ages perfectly and just thought I had you young.”

“Please stop talking,” she says. The French toast suddenly doesn’t sound so appetizing.

He shrugs, stirring sugar into his coffee before lifting the mug up to take a sip.

The red mug. That she’s definitely seen before.

“Is that – your mugs in the office,” she says.

“I steal one every time I’m here. Don’t worry, I tip well.” He taps his fingers along the side. “If you want to be helpful, steal yours for me too. Wilson always refuses because he’s a wimp. He got caught once and she didn’t even care.”

This has to be a dream. House has brought them to a place that he goes frequently, with Wilson, and has revealed a personal detail about himself. It may just be where he gets his favorite mugs for the office but it’s more than he’s ever offered up willingly before.

“What do you want?” she asks.

He takes another long sip of his coffee, once again staring straight ahead. She thinks the real reason he’s stretched out like that isn’t because of his leg or comfort but so his default position is looking away from them. “There’s an open position in surgery under Thomas. He’s an insufferable ass, but luckily you have experience in that area.”

She’d asked the question but he’s obviously talking to Chase. He swallows and she can feel him tense along her side. She hates this. “You want me to apply?”

“There’s a senior research position in immunology at St. Sebastian’s. They’re doing a lot of cool stuff,” he continues, not answering Chase but now speaking to her. “I’d go for that one. However, Williams is looking to retire, which means his position is open. It sounds like an utter bore to me, but you’d probably like it.”

“Williams, the emergency room department head?” she demands incredulously.

“Keep in mind I’m only bringing it up because I’d prefer you both stay at Princeton. It’s a shit job,” he answers. “The research one is way better.”

“You want me to apply for the surgeon position?” Chase repeats.

“Don’t be stupid,” House says and Chase’s grinds his teeth together. “I want you to accept the surgeon position. Thomas will offer it to you outright in about,” he checks his watch, “eight days.”

Cameron has never found House to make sense, but this is taking it to a new level. “If you’re feeling guilty about firing Chase–”

“I’m not feeling guilty,” he interrupts. “When have you ever known me to feel guilty for doing the right thing?”

“Doing the right thing makes you miserable,” she retorts.

He smiles again, small enough that she thinks it might be genuine. “Only sometimes. This will probably make me miserable too, though. I hate hiring people. They’re all so stupid. A benefit to you two sticking around the hospital is that I can go and bug you when your replacements’ idiocy threatens to kill someone.”

“Or your stubbornness,” she says.

“Tomayto, tomahto,” he replies. “There are also a couple open positions in Chicago that you’d like, but that makes me intention to leech off you significantly harder.”

Chase sits up a little straighter. “Why would you tell us about jobs that you don’t want us to take?”

“You’re not my employees anymore. I can’t make you do the smart thing. You’re free to be idiots, if that’s what you want,” he says.

Cameron doesn’t want to press on this particular bruise, but she’s missing something. “Why did you fire Chase?”

She’d asked that before but this time she thinks she might get a real answer out of him.

“So you’d make a choice,” he says, then nods to Chase, “You’re welcome.”

Chase blinks several times. “What?”

He groans, “Are you going to make me spell it out?” Neither of them say anything and he sighs. “Chase loves me too much to ever leave me so of course I had to fire him. Plus it pushed you to make a choice – me or him. If you’d never had to pick, even if you started dating Chase, he’d always feel like your second choice. Because he would be. But now he knows he’s your first. So, again, you’re welcome.”

She’s actually speechless so she’s relieved when Chase asks, “Why would you care about that? Why do you care at all? Even if you do care, why do this? You hate change.”

“True,” he acknowledges. “Which is why I didn’t do anything when your contracts ran out. But Foreman quit. Change was happening whether I liked it or not so there’s no reason to prolong the process. Better to get all the change out at once so I can get back to a life of no changes.”

“Why isn’t Foreman here?” Cameron challenges. “Why did you come get us and not him?”

That makes him go silent again, but she and Chase have years of experience waiting him out. He’s still looking at them, but he’s not seeing them, his eyes going unfocused like he’s thinking through a case. “Wood ducks, unlike the majority of their genus, make nests in trees.”

She’d always been convinced that one day House’s stupid metaphors would make sense to her. Mostly they just give her a headache.

“They also have a habit of flinging themselves out of the nest with very little concern for the consequences of those actions. That’s because the mother duck builds the nest high enough to keep it from predators but low enough that they’ll be unharmed by the impact of the nice cushy ground, so this propensity for leaping first and looking never wasn’t bred out of them by evolution. Of course, humans mess that up, and now lots of places have hard concrete instead of soft ground. So now the duck’s ability to survive is based on their ability to fly.”

“So you’re seeing if we can fly?” Chase asks tentatively.

House sighs, taking another sip of his coffee and giving them a faux disappointed look that she’s surprised doesn’t prick her as much as it used to. “You landed on soft ground. It doesn’t matter if you can fly or not.”

“Concrete is accidentally killing a patient who wouldn’t have died otherwise,” she says, sitting up straight. “You kicked us out of the nest because we’d be fine. But you think Foreman is heading for concrete and you don’t know if he’s going to be able to fly or not.”

“Less killing the patient, more the lack of self confidence and self awareness,” he says, “but yeah, close enough.”

“What if he falls?” Chase asks.

House shrugs. “Then, if he lives, back into the nest he goes.”

“And if he flies?” she challenges.

He takes another sip of coffee, but it doesn’t quite hide the smile on his face. “Then we invite him to brunch.”

~

“Are you going to take it?” Cameron asks, resting on top of his chest and digging her chin into his sternum.

It’s not the most comfortable position on his end, but he’s not going to tell her that. “I haven’t been offered it yet.”

She gives him a look and he sighs, which only serves to shove her chin even further into him.

He’s going to take it.

It’s a good job, a great job even, and he’ll be able to really develop his skills as a surgeon. But he’s self aware enough to know that biggest draw is that House wants him to take it. That House didn’t just get sick of him and decide that he was worthless and fine to throw away.

He was trying to help, in the worst, most assholish way possible.

“Do you think we can actually be friends?” he asks instead of answering.

Cameron frowns. “He did pay for brunch.”

“He also told you that you were getting the next one since you’d quit instead of being fired,” he reminds her.

Her frown deepens. “He’s friends with Wilson.”

“I don’t think I can handle being Wilson,” he says honestly. He likes House. He really likes the idea of being friends with House. But the only friend House has is sort of insane and has to put up with even more crap than they did as his employees – and he isn’t even getting paid for it.

But it’s different, too. Wilson still gets called an idiot if he’s being an idiot and House will be insane and annoying and all of that, but he can be nice too, when it’s Wilson. He makes an effort for Wilson.

Sort of like he’d made an effort with them, today.

“So we won’t be Wilson,” she says. “We’ll be Chase and Cameron and he’ll be House and maybe that can be something different than it was before.”

Maybe.

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #anoceanofbooks #house md #when will i be free from house md hell

[omegalomania]

What are some of your favorite aro-/ace-coded fob lyrics?

oh fuck yes a little bowl of seeds just for me

boycott love from disloyal order of water buffaloes is a personal favorite of mine. its a lyric i really really want tattooed at some point. that's not the only lyric i latch onto from an aro perspective but it's probably the biggest one

basically the entirety of it's hard to say "i do" when i don't but a special mention goes to you are appealing to emotions that i simply do not have as well as the only ring i want buried with me are the ones around my eyes

it's true romance is dead / i shot it in the chest and in the head from the music or the misery is also a favorite of mine, also just that whole song in general

i thought i loved you but it was just how you looked in the light in hum hallelujah resonates with a lot of queer folks i've found, and it's no different for me

same goes for it's a strange way of saying that i know i'm supposed to love you from g.i.n.a.s.f.s.

i'm outside the door, invite me in / so we can go back and play pretend from alone together brings me back to when i was trying to perform heteronormativity/amatonormativity even if it was making me miserable

i also hold to a very similar vibe with she said "i love you 'till i don't" / i am just playing house, no idea what i'm doing now from sunshine riptide and also most of burna boy's verse, frankly. i fell in love but i didn't fall down and feel like i'm bulletproof, baby in particular

american beauty/american psycho, particularly the first verse. i think i fell in love again / maybe i just took too much cough medicine

golden is a big one for queer folks in general i've found. the chorus especially hits hard from an aro and/or ace reading. and i saw god cry in the reflection of my enemies / and all the lovers with no time for me

i've got a dark alley and a bad idea that says you should shut your mouth is a heavy song no matter how you slice it. but that chorus gets to me in particular: we can fake it for the airwaves / force our smiles, baby, half-dead / from comparing myself to everyone else around me

the kids aren't alright reads to me as one big anthem for platonic love above anything romantic, which resonates super hard with me. the second verse has a lot of good lines that i latch onto from an aroace lens too. your love is anemic and i can't believe / that you couldn't see it coming from me

pretty much the whole chorus of HOLD ME TIGHT OR DON'T does it for me, and those verses have got some good aroallo vibes too! i never really feel a thing... confidants but never friends...

the whole of fake out is a gimme. that chorus rings real true. starts with love is in the air, i just gotta find a window to break out and finishing with but it was all a fake-out

i've got all this ringing in my ears and none on my fingers is one that has another highly applicable title but the whole refrain of the truth hurts worse / than anything i could bring myself to do to you paired with the one-two punch of that second verse REALLY gets under my skin

and of course, the culminating one: you are what you love, not who loves you from save rock and roll. obviously there are a LOT of ways to read that line

there are a couple other songs i latch onto - wilson (expensive mistakes); a little less "sixteen candles", a little more "touch me"; the (after) life of the party to name a few - but the ones listed above are the big lyrics that resonate with me on a personal level

just in general i have a shitton of fob over on my aro playlist (which doubles as a general aroace/queer playlist but has a lot of emphasis on aromanticism) in case i forgot to mention anything but like i said those are the big ones

#askin hours #anon #happy aro awareness week lol ive had this in my drafts for mONTHS and forgot about it #sorry it took so long to answer i have a million asks in my inbox and just do not have time most days #go listen to aromanticism by moses sumney for black history month and aro awareness week btw #now THAT there is an album that rewrote my neural chemistry

[dearestcynthiaw]

Goodbye Stranger - House M.D x Reader

Chapter Two: Who Are You?

Source A: Photograph, with missing piece, and handwritten message: 'Spring 1928 - Trip to London' no other inscriptions.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

Hello again!

Sorry for the long wait, this chapter might be a little dodgy writing wise, but I'm hoping it'll sound ok.

I just wanted to add that themes might get a bit heavier from here, but I'm still unsure. I'll let you know if any trigger warnings come up.

------

Chapter One: World Weary

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TW: Mentions of blood, death, cigarettes and alcohol. (Sounds like a underground band name)

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In truth, House thought about this peculiar encounter for the rest of the day. He never once closed the Wikipedia tab on this mysterious, yet apparent English Rose. He'd found himself opening it frequently and scrolling to the bottom of endless pages to really see how far this woman would go with her 'fantasy'.

Due to this anomaly in his usual work day, he found it challenging to engage with his current case, often sitting in his office and pondering in the silence. His eyes glued to the door she had disappeared through hours earlier. Would she ever come back? She had been such a fascinating specimen, he just wanted to know exactly what was going on in her head. He thought about the endless illnesses that could have caused this odd phenomenon, ones that would cause hysteria or an overactive imagination.

Was she here to fool him into a prescription? Was she living out a long time wish to live the life of someone with great lineage and aristocratic fortune? Did she want to live in the romanticised perception of the past? It was all a colossal enigma that he wanted to unearth and tease out of the woman.

To him, the current case was a bore compared to what had transpired earlier that day. It sounded like a harsh flu, but not one that he’d ever seen. They’d isolated the patient and kept up with questions, which the man was reluctant to answer. With House acting distant, the diagnosis seemed far out of reach. House thought of giving up at one point, letting his team of three figure it out for themselves. That was until they found the man’s ankles were swollen.

At this point, due to House’s lack of interest, the whole procedure was moving at a snail’s pace. The case was getting increasingly worse and House’s team decided the patient would need to be scheduled for an X-Ray of the chest, checking the lungs for fluid and the heart for implications. 

The conclusion was the possibility of heart failure, yet they were still unsure of how it got to this point. 

The end of the day was nigh. Still after plenty of pestering, House rebuffed the idea of at least looking at the patient through the glass. The idea of this patient dying seemed to have no effect on him, maybe deep down it did, but he appeared oblivious or distracted.

It was late when he got back to his car. The rain was heavily pattering on the roof of the multistory car park. It was loud, but that never detached him from his buzzing thoughts.

Dr Wilson, his friend (you’d like to think) and colleague, caught him just before he left, knocking sternly on his driver's side window, which House reluctantly opened. Wilson’s eyebrows were knitted and his mouth was pulled into a straight line 'What's gotten into you? I’m made to believe this is a one-of-a-kind case, not even you can figure it out.’ 

House only huffed at this, rolling up the window. Again there was a torrent of knocks. 

‘What? I’m late to a date with one of the hottest chicks in town.’ 

‘Don’t mess about, this is a life or death House. Why are you not interested?’ Wilson spoke, his voice sprinkled with concern.

In return, House revved his engine ‘No time to talk, probably won’t see you tomorrow, I doubt I'll be able to walk with all the fun I’ll be up to tonight. Bye.’ With that he flew out of his space, leaving Wilson in the dust. 

Rain drops danced on his windows as he bolted down the bustling roads. The street lights and headlights of other cars painted his window screen with an array of vivid colours. The music on his radio hummed in the background along with the rattling of the wheels on the dodgy tarmac. 

He was eventually stopped at a set of traffic lights, watching people trudge through the rain as he sat snugly in his warm car. 

Amongst the hoard of busybodies was a young lady, one with a look of discomfort and panic. She was instantly recognisable, yet her togs were soggy and discoloured with the spatters of rain. Her hair was heavy with water and had lost its neat, waved styling. 

He watched intensely as a singular man approached her, touching her shoulder, causing her to jump back in fright. 

The lights flicked to orange and he was about ready to move on, when she was pushed up against the wall unbeknown to those around her. 

He moved on through the green light. He thought nothing of this interaction, knowing someone else would interfere. 

He was part way down the road when without thinking he flicked on his right indicator, stopping in a lay-by, hopping out in haste with his hand roughly gripping his cane. 

Bracing against the frigid rain, he splashed through puddles approaching the pair.

He was close now, and could see how dangerous this situation was. The man was grabbing at her with his filthy hands, his face was close and his voice low.

House put his cane between the two causing an instant reaction from the unknown male. 

‘Whatcha think you’re doing, cripple?’ The male hollered. 

He attempted to push the stranger away, making sure to keep distance in case he decided to lash out, which his body language suggested.

House’s mind was sharp thinking ‘This woman has a disease that’s contagious through touch. She’s an escapee and has been on the run for the past 2 days. You’ve probably contracted it by being in close proximity.’ 

The man seemed to instantaneously spring backwards ‘How come you’re fine?’ his face scrunched up.

‘Inoculation, dummies don’t have access to it. Now move on, nothing to see here.’ and with that the frowzy man scurried away. The appearance of his walking aid would’ve probably been enough to strike fear in the stranger, but the spontaneous story-telling seemed to bring the alarming interaction to a close.

House moved away as well, pacing back to his car.

She hesitated before shouting after him, forgetting about nearby eavesdroppers ‘Why did you help me? I thought you said I was mad and should be locked away.’ 

‘Doesn’t matter, you coming or you just gonna stand there staring at my back?’ House turned back to look at her, water running down his face.

He finally got a closer look at her when they were back in the comfort of his car. She was soaked to the bone, dripping on the fabric seats. Black could be seen about her red, puffy eyes where her cake mascara had smudged. Her hair was tousled and unkept. She was quite a pitiful sight to behold. 

There was an uncomfortable silence before the engine was started up. House was hesitating. 

Again the music could only be heard faintly in the background, not even a single breath. 

‘I’ve seen a lot. New things, that is.’ She attempted to start a conversation, hoping that after this frightful evening he would see some sense in what she had said previously that day.

He ignored her.

‘I’ve got a car at home.’ She muttered under her breath, she was speaking to herself more than him. She was partly facing away, looking out the window as the streets flew by.

He turned the radio up to drown out her rambling. He would much rather be glued to the thumping music and the overactive thoughts building in his mind. He detested the notion of making awkward conversation with a lady he did not wholly trust.

The music was blaring now, the bass rattling the plastic interior of the car.

As she listened intently, she heard a new plethora of instruments that was very unlike what she was used to. She didn’t know what to concentrate on, she couldn’t tell anything apart. Every instrument seemed to drown each other out.

Her eyes were wide from the boisterous sound but she happily sat tapping her fingers on her lap to the rhythm. She could only pick out one phrase from the lyrics; 

“Who are you?’’.

Who was she? That really was the truth. The song just exaggerated that query. 

House finally let a question sit in the noisy atmosphere ‘You like The Who?’. 

‘Who?’ She turned to him.

‘Very funny.’ The conversation was quick, short and littered with sarcasm.

The song had a bit of a quieter section but jumped straight back into the chaos. It made her jump slightly with the suddenness of it all, consequently causing House to humph with a singular hissing laugh.

Again, there was a gap of silence and a sort of sizzling, filmy sound that rang out from the central system in the car. The bulky set of technology to her left disposed of a silver, holographic disk and she looked at it curiously. 

Panicked, she asked ‘Did I break something?’.

In a quick movement, he flicked open a compartment in front of her knees ‘Pick one, and replace it.’

She tentatively did so, taking the plastic cases from the glove box and splaying them out on her lap, looking at the different images. She seemed to figure it out, it was much like the vinyls she was used to, but in a different format. She gently replaced the circular disk safely into its matching case. Opening another dark coloured case with a man and a blonde woman displayed on the front, she placed the disk where the other had originally come from. As it slid from her fingers into the machine, her eyebrows furrowed in awe.The new song flicked on after a couple seconds of whirring. 

‘Top Gun? Really?’ 

‘I didn’t know what to pick, I’ve never seen any of these before. It's the only one I could see with the musicians on the front.’ 

‘They’re not the musicians, it's a film soundtrack, Marty. Maverick and Charlie? Have you not watched the movie?’ He used that odd nickname ‘Marty’ again amongst his rambling.

She sighed, looking down at her lap at the remaining disk holders. She brought one close to her face as the darkness obstructed the image. ‘You listen to King Oliver? Are you a fan of Jazz?’ she perceived his seated figure at the wheel. She was delighted that this music was still being heard. If she could relate to him with music then it might make the atmosphere more comfortable. 

Irked by her continued persistence on making conversation, House stared back at her. ‘What? Are you going to tell me that you were there when they came out?’  

He was still fighting conversation. 

Feeling knocked back she spoke quietly again ‘I’m only curious, that’s all.’.

Her thoughts consumed her that when House had parked and was now exiting the car, she was too slow to realise. They were before an unfamiliar single-story building, he was bugging her to leave the passenger seat. 

He ushered her towards the front door, both traipsing on damp gravel, water still continuing to cling to their raiments. 

Hesitating, she stood by the entrance ‘Are you coming in or are you just going to stand there and freeze?’. She was already cold, she had barely had time to dry and was finding it hard to conceal her shivers. 

It had been a rough looking public house, she had no longer been pleased when seeing its interior. Truthfully, she was glad to no longer be stuck on the streets but this brought no hope as to what House had in mind for her. She pined for her home, at this point it seemed ever so far out of reach. The panic was devouring her insides as she walked with him to the long stretch of bar. 

She still had her bag of small belongings clasped to her side; a small pocket watch, a delicately painted case of cigarettes, a metal lighter, a compact mirror, a gold tube of lipstick and a small amount of notes and coins. It was a pure set of luck that it hadn’t been snatched out of her clutches whilst she helplessly wandered the streets.

House had already placed an order whilst she lingered a distance back from him. He’d downed a couple doubles and was waiting for his glass to be topped up.

The bartender seemed to look at her in inquiry, she felt pressured to place an order too.

‘Cognac, a little soda, please.’ Giving a small smile as she felt relieved to finally have a drink. 

‘You think we do that here, sweetheart?’ The man seemed amused by her request.

She felt embarrassed, flushing a rosé shade on the cheeks ‘Just brandy then.’ She spoke as she placed a few shillings on the counter. 

‘We don’t take whatever those are.’ 

House surely thought she was a fool at this point, he pressed his glass to his lip and gave a sharp snicker. Every aspect of her life had to be littered with old-timey things. He thought; she was quite committed to leading this lifestyle and neglecting the reality of today’s society. She proceeded to sit beside him after the interaction with the bartender, who went to tend to another customer. Demoralised, she let out a shaky sigh, elbows on the bar and right hand over her eyes. She felt like crying, but was certain that the doctor would degrade her for it. 

‘So what’s your real name then?’ House questioned after a lengthy couple of minutes, again grabbing the attention of the bartender to fill up his glass.

In a huff she pulled out a little red cloth-bound book from her purse and pushed it in front of him. ‘That’s my driving licence, have a look at it yourself.’ He opened it in a blasé manner, finding the same name she’d given when they met, written in neat looped writing. Alongside her name were the start and expiry dates for her driving permit that conveniently matched up with her story. 

‘That’s all I've got in terms of identification. That’s it, that is my name. If you can’t believe me after this then I don’t know what will convince you.’

He continued to study it ‘This is a good forgery, looks authentic.’. 

She didn’t know why she hung around, but she felt that he might be her only chance when it came to getting home. She opened her cigarette case, placing one at her lip, flicking open her lighter and taking a deep exhale. 

‘Better put that out before you get caught.’ He said in a snarky voice with a face to match when she chose to ignore him. 

With that final comment she left her seat marching outside, gasper still between her fingers. House trailed behind her to the overhead roof outside where she continued to take drags. He didn’t want to lose sight of her, not again, he was far from finishing his investigation.

Snapping she snarled ‘What is it? What is it that you want? You’re following me yet you refuse to help me. You don’t even believe me, not even my name! I’m beyond it all, I just- I just - want to get back home, yet you ridicule and tease me to no end! What is it ‘Dr’ House? What do you want me to say? That I’m faking all of this, then fine have it your way, I am. Are you finally satisfied?!. 

There was a second of silent acrimony before she finally stated; ‘I’m going back to the hospital’. She stubbed the cigarette butt beneath her heel, beginning to move.

Suddenly, a pair of headlights blinked at them. They both stood still like a pair of stunned deer in the beam. ‘House!’ came a shout.

House squinted and called back ‘Can’t you see I’m with a babe?’.

She was too stunned to react to his crude joke. 

‘She looks wet, House.’ The voice came closer, it sounded sympathetic.

‘I’m sure she is, from the sight of me.’ 

Gritting her teeth she sneered ‘For goodness sake!’ Crossing her arms for warmth and setting foot back into the intense rain, she began to trudge through the drenched car park. She stood by what she said, she was going to find her way back. 

She walked as far as the side of the car who’s headlights had previously blinded them.

‘She looks distressed, Are you going to stop her? You can’t let her go back in the rain, the hospital is miles from here.’ The man came into view, appearing to her right. She flinched backwards as he tried to rest an assuring hand on her arm. His face was scrunched and his eyes were squinting from battling the downpour. 

‘Just hold on a second, I’ll take you there- House- Jesus Christ, we need to get out of this rain-’ This new man managed to convince her to step back under cover, she still kept her distance from the both of them, arms defensively crossed over her chest.

‘I was trying to find you, and I found you at a bar? You need to take this seriously, your patient went into cardiac arrest, we were trying to get a hold of you but you weren’t answering your phone.’

Looking unbothered, House shot back ‘Is he stable?’ 

‘Yes but-’ 

‘Well it's fine then, let me get on with my night.’ 

You could hear a very heavy sigh from the other man as he pinched the bridge of his nose, ready to speak again.

She finally let her quiet fury go ‘You let this man deal with patients? He couldn’t be the slightest bit interested in a man that is actively dying. He can’t honestly be a doctor, he's such an ass!’ 

‘Hey! That's not very nice to say to your prince charming!’ his eyes flew wide, pulling a mock frown, his words were a little slurred.

‘Well, I’m not wrong, you’re being a complete and utter cad!’

House gasped, looking defensively at the other man shrugging his shoulders ‘I don’t know what she's on about Wilson.’.

That was his name, Wilson. Was that a first or last name? She was yet to know.

‘Can we stop fighting like children? You, House, are going home and you’re going to take the case-file with you. Get in the car.’ Wilson paused to look at the lady, taking in her peculiar outfit. He didn’t know whether it would be dubious to ask her the same, especially with how distraught her manner appeared.

‘Whaaat? Are you calling off my playdate?!’  House whined. ‘I can drive myself, you know.’ He added in a flat tone.

‘The man behind the bar has his keys, I saw him take them earlier.’ She muttered in earshot of the man named ‘Wilson’.

There was a stern ‘In!’ from Wilson before House gave in; ‘Fine fine, Jesus, you really know how to be a stick in my ass!’ 

She remained hesitant as this gentleman, Wilson, opened the back door for her, ushering her in. She really had no other choice at this point, afterall, she had nowhere else to go. 

Wilson turned back to look at her when he had finally seated himself in front of the wheel. ‘What do you need to go back to the hospital for? The clinic closed two hours ago...’.

‘Don’t worry about it, any hotel will do, I’ll go in the morning.’ She spoke softly in defeat.

House let slip ‘Don’t know how you’ll do that with no money.’.

A gasp could be heard ‘House! I-I can’t believe you! Were you planning to spend an evening with her and then just dump her?!’ Wilson shouted in a whisper, which was partly inaudible to the lady in the back. ‘You can’t do that! You’ll have to let her atleast crash on your couch until tomorrow.’ 

‘Why can’t you?’ He mumbled back.

‘Because I’m living out of a hotel at the moment, you know it's not possible.’ His voice went lower ‘You got yourself into this, not me!’

House heaved out a sigh, he was too inebriated to protest.

The drive was prolonged by the squabbling going on up front. She let her ears tune out, concentrating on different landmarks passing by her window. She recognized a few from when she had been roaming earlier that day; The laundromat where a woman stopped her for a chat, commenting on how her voice sounded funny and there was the barbers where she had been catcalled whilst trying to ask about the area.These were only a handful of places that were recognizable. She set about situating them on a map in her mind. She had to know her way around before it was too late, knowing that it would become a survival tool when House inevitably left her on her own.

Her eyes were terribly heavy as she peered out of the rain soaked window, her elbow resting on the seal, her chin propped on her hand. She could see her likeness reflected in the pane, it looked pale and exhausted. Although she felt miserable, It was also surprising how comforting this stranger's car was. She should’ve felt on edge not knowing where she was going, but the warmth and humming chatter seemed to lull her into a peaceful state of mind and eventually a light slumber. 

The door was pulled abruptly open, causing her to tumble sideways. ‘You getting out or what?’. She sleepily trailed behind House up a couple of steps towards a green front door. His keys turnt in the lock, this must’ve been where he lived.

She was greeted by an array of objects, all messily placed around the entirety of the apartment. There were dark bookshelves filled with all sorts of oddities, some of which were recognisable like lozenge bottles, anatomical figurines and the odd syringe that she would see used in her hospitals at home. They were being used like decorational items, which she found quite curious.

Amongst it all was a grand piano, one possibly made from a rich wood, it was the only surface completely clear. 

House limped through the apartment leaving her standing stunned in the entryway, Wilson was behind her, moving to her left to follow the doctor. She’d only seen him in low light, now realising how much more smartly clad he was in comparison to House. He looked and acted more like a man bearing the title of ‘doctor’. He seemed genuinely kind, but after House’s reaction, she didn’t want anyone else caught up in the mess she had gotten herself into. They were still having their previous conversation, she could hear their muffled voices from the other room.

Her heels clicked faintly on the hardwood floor, following the two into what looked like a kitchen. House was propped against a cabinet with a vile of tablets clutched in his hand. He tipped a couple into his palm, tipping his head back to swallow them. He glanced to his side, his steel blue eyes fixing on her figure awkwardly standing just outside the kitchen. 

‘I’m going to get her a towel or something, at least offer her a glass of water instead of staring at her.’ Wilson was prodding House to accommodate his guest. Wilson promptly made his way out of the kitchen space, making sure to keep his distance and disappearing down a corridor, leaving them both alone.

House appeared disapproving as he continued to study her, lips curling inwards in thought. 

She looked down at her shoes and spoke at the floor to avoid eye contact ‘I apologise, I didn't get the chance to thank you…’. She spoke softly and with gentle words only to hear a sniff and a heavy swallow in reply.

‘I wasn't being very kind considering you did help me.’ She added.

Pushing past her, in a way that didn’t cause physical contact he announced ‘I'm going to bed, Wilson will show you where everything is. You’re sleeping on the couch-’

He turned on his heel slightly, looking over his shoulder, which caught her attention; ‘Unless you want to join me for some sweet, passionate sex.’ He teased. He couldn't help himself, she thought, he had to pull some rudimentary rubbish to cover his arse whenever she tried to be polite.

Showing a slight grimace, she watched his back as he staggered away. She shifted her weight behind her on the kitchen’s doorway, head positioned upwards regarding the textured plaster on the ceiling. 

There were a couple subdued footsteps before she noticed Doctor Wilson beside her, holding out a rather plush looking towel. 

With a soft ‘thank you’ and a nod, she wrapped it about her person. 

‘I’ve run you a bath as well. House stopped me in the hallway and asked if I could. The bathroom is just down that hallway.’ Pointing his thumb over his shoulder he noted the direction she should take. ‘If that’s everything, I best be getting back. It's getting late.’

Just before he left she spoke up, clearing her throat quietly, ‘Oh uh, thank you for everything-’ was all she could stutter. 

With a prompt nod and a thoughtful smile he slipped through the front door, shutting it firmly behind him. 

It was deathly silent as she slipped through the passageway to the bathroom. She was still studying her surroundings, taking in all of the little nic-nacs, when she stopped by a shelf just outside the bathroom. Huddled amongst the books was a sweet, well-loved teddy. He was only a tiny thing, just bigger than hand. His fur was thoroughly worn, showing darker spots where the threads were visible. His nose was hand stitched and his eyes glimmered in the low light. She turned him over gently in her hands, finding his maker’s mark. He was a Steiff bear, absolutely identical to her own. Hugging him closely to her chest, she felt a wave of comfort fall over her. A kind of comfort that hurts so terribly. 

She let a silent tear slide down her cheek, thinking desperately of home. Her dear companion was where she left it, settled amongst her bedsheets battling the biting cold of her bedroom. He would never know where she had gone. 

The feeling further gnawed at her heart, her chest burnt with grief. She thought of family, how she’d left them behind, without uttering a goodbye. She thought of her friends and her dogs and finally her fiancé. She let her head tilt slightly back, her flushed lips parted, trying to stop the tears from dripping onto the floor, but they only bled down her neck, stinging as they made their path. Looking back at the bear, she pulled him back from her person, giving him a light kiss on his woolly cheek. Tenderly, she seated him back on the shelf and continued on her path. 

She was finally amongst the cold tile of the bathroom. Quietly locking the door behind her, she began to undress, hooking her garments over the showerail above the tub. They might’ve had a chance of drying there. 

She sat on the stool in the corner to unclip her stockings. There, she caught sight of a scrape on her knee where she had taken a fall earlier that day. The adrenaline had been overpowering the pain, only now realising how the crimson blood had seeped into the rayon. Peeling the fabric off the wound she set about washing away some of the blood in the sink, hoping that she could salvage the tattered hosiery. She left them to dry like the rest of her clothing and undergarments.

She felt it was only right to leave on her few pieces of jewellery, knowing her tired state, she would likely misplace them otherwise.

Placing a foot into the sudsy water, the pleasant water enveloped her numb limbs. She led down fully, letting the warmth rush over her, finally ridding herself of the dreadful frigidity that had lingered upon her skin. Allowing her eyes to close, she let out a contented sigh. This small pause, where her body was finally in a relaxed state, brought on small waves of dread. Much like the bath water sloshing about in the porcelain, the top of her stomach was sweeping like waves, twisting and pulling in agony. 

She hunched over, pulling her knees up to her chest as a form of comfort. Her breath grew heavy, the sense of foreboding setting in. Burying her face into the hard bones of her knees, she struggled against her chest wracking with affliction. The pure anguish of the situation hit her, far worse than it had in the hallway. She desperately clung onto her breath not wanting to make a sound, tears smothering the entirety of her face. Her arms were firmly wrapped about her head, her nails digging into the tops of her arms, clinging onto any part of reality that wasn’t being deadened by her continuous fear.

She suffered a disjointed sob, drawing a further deep breath through her teeth. Her body shook with the deeply embedded desolation. 

She hadn’t noticed the figure stood to her right as she continued to sink further into her melancholy, her form violently trembling with mournful weeps. 

There was a masculine, pitiful exhale that filled the claustrophobic space. 

From the sound, she let one bloodshot eye take a peak above her arms, perceiving a blurry staunch figure who was instantly recognisable.

Embarrassment entangled her as she realised how she might’ve appeared. Her voice sounded broken as she whispered a quick apology, drawing her limbs closer to her torso.

He continued with what he was doing, flipping open the mirrored cabinet above the sink.

All she could do was turn her head in the opposite direction to hide her obvious flushed face and tear stained cheeks. She heard his rusting around but was too humiliated to look.

Hearing his footsteps echoing away and the door closing once again, she turned to take a peek. There was a thin blue and white dressing gown led over the edge of the bath, it hadn’t been there before. She took that as a sign to leave the tepid soak, finishing up in the bath, placing on her chemise and French knickers that were mostly dry. It would have to suffice for the night. She assumed this dressing gown was left for her, delicately placing it upon her person and tying it tight.

She padded down the hallway, taking quick,quiet steps to the living room. Anticipating his presence in the sitting room, she felt she would have to turn back and lock herself in the bathroom for the rest of the night. She couldn’t face him again, she felt completely mortified after he’d seen her in that state.

Perching on the chesterfield, making herself somewhat comfortable, she peered down at the coffee table in front of her, her eyes landed on the patient case file that the other doctor had left. Curiosity overtook her, she took a cautionate glance at the space before flipping open the blue folder to take a peak. She had wondered what the two were discussing earlier. 

Her breath caught after taking in the symptoms. It was the usual symptoms of something like influenza, high temperature, fever, sore throat, difficulty breathing and swollen glands in the neck. It was sounding a lot like what her uncle had caught, but how could they not see it was a kind of flu? Was there something else they were missing? There were updated notes too, scrawled in the typical hard-read writing of a doctor. 

It was affecting his heart. 

‘What have I told you about patient confidentiality?’ 

‘It's just some.. Reading..’ Was all she could stutter, she was quite lost for words after jumping out of her skin at his abrupt emergence.

His eyebrows seemed to quirk in amusement ‘Can you not see the amount of books on the shelves around you?’

‘Yes I know, but, Dr Wilson was urging you to read this and you still wouldn’t. I thought I might have a look to see what you were avoiding. Well, I can see why...’ 

‘It's not the flu.’ House stated bluntly.

She sighed at his forthrightness, she was quite familiar with it now. ‘I was just…Starting to see the similarity it had to a relative’s death..’ She couldn't stand looking him in the eyes after her confession, she felt he might just laugh in her face.

His questions were quick and direct yet her willingness to answer was becoming restrained ‘What did they die from?’.

‘Distemper- no, uh? I can’t remember - I don’t like to think about it.’ Her eyes were visibly glazed, her eyes squinting when racking her brain for the given name of the illness.

He pushed further ‘You can’t remember any symptoms?’

Swallowing gravely, she continued ‘Well, they found a grey coating in their throat after they died. The doctor was too late to see it before. Their um.. Heart was weak from birth, so we barely saw symptoms before they passed. But it-it was like your patient…The um, cough and fever..’ 

His eyes seemed to focus on a point in front of him, his pupils constricting. His mind was whirring, connecting dots. 

‘A Pseudomembrane. So it was bacteria?’  

She looked clueless, wanting to shake her head in apprehensive confusion. He went on to pull a small rectangular silver case from his pocket, snapping it open and tapping a couple buttons on it, eventually holding it to his ear.

‘Corynebacterium diphtheriae. Have you checked inside the patient's nose? I think you'll find we're dealing with bacterial disease instead of a virus.’

There was a pause before he interrupted the murmur coming from the other end  ‘-then dose him up on antibiotics and monitor his heart damage. Yes, I know you’ve found it’s myocarditis, so put him on anti-inflammatories and any other pain killers he’ll whine for. He’ll survive.’ Flipping the silver item, supposedly a phone, closed after rambling to the person on the other end, he examined the lady before him. Other than the slight scrunch about his eyes, his visage appeared completely blank. 

Gasping as if he were to speak, he held his tongue to look upon her, further studying her face. He sat on the other end of the settee, lowering himself down slowly, holding his leg as he did so. Making himself comfortable, he placed his cane upon the table in front of them.

‘Who was this relative then?’ His words seemed to strike a nerve. She seemed to render a sorrowful glint in her eyes. ‘Who was it?’ He pressed.

‘My brother, the oldest.’ 

‘You have a brother?’ It wasn’t like he already knew, after reading up on her all day, he just wanted to hear it from her. He cruelly wanted to see if she had rehearsed the entirety of the historical documents he had found on the web, pitilessly trying to trip her up.

She only nodded, she was hesitant to give away any more information on her personal life, but she still stated that she once had four male siblings.

‘I’m sorry.’ Stating it unremorsefully, he still exhibited an unreadable blank expression.

He didn’t remain seated for long, making his way back to the kitchen in his usual slow walk. He returned, after a bit of rusting in the other room, carrying glasses and a bottle of unidentifiable amber alcohol. Pouring about an inches worth into both glasses, he passed one over to the accompanying female who took a reserved sip, brushing her tongue along her lip to identify the taste.

Reaching into her chestnut coloured handbag, she pulled out her ornate cigarette case, opening it to offer one to House who was sprawled out on the sofa.

‘I don’t smoke.’

Pulling an inquisitive grin she spoke ‘If you don’t, then why have an ashtray?’.

‘Decoration?’ His voice dripped with sarcasm.

She chuckled lightly at his comment. He did indeed take a straight, placing it at his lip as she sparked the metal lighter beneath it.

Doing the same for herself, the room became slightly hazy with the wispy smoke.

He appeared content with the taste ‘What are these then?’

‘Fribourg & Treyer, I have them when I'm in London.’ She gave a frolicsome smile ‘I’m not actually allowed to smoke, my father prohibits it.’

He made a humming sound, prompting her to continue. His interest was getting the better of him.

‘He’s a little old-fashioned, doesn’t believe women should smoke, he believes I’m starting to resemble the scandalous city girls. Not very fair considering my brother’s are happily welcomed to, and in his company. I mean one smokes a pipe, one does snuff for Heaven’s sake!’ Lamenting on the disparity of it all, she still displayed an impish grin.

His lips seemed to curl into a sort of smile as she spoke candidly. 

‘What happened to your knee?’ He kept firing questions, one after the other. 

She glanced down, finding the dressing gown was revealing the skin just above her knees. Readjusting the fabric she formed a response; ‘It's just a scrape, there’s nothing special about it. Anyway, are you ever going to stop interrogating me? I mean, you haven’t given me the chance to ask my own questions yet.’ 

‘Looks like you’ve been running, it’s elongated.’

She paused to flick her head away, looking back at him quickly again in discomfort, sharply stubbing out her cigarette.

‘Yes.. But that doesn’t matter.’

Regardless, he persisted ‘Who were you running from?’ 

‘I was just scared, alright?’ She exclaimed, nervously holding an odd smile. 

It was deathly silent between them. The cars on the street outside echoed noisily throughout the front room. 

‘Go on then, what were you going to ask me? No doubt it's going to be about my leg.’ 

She shook her head ‘That’s not for me to ask. I wanted to know what made you want to become a doctor?’.

‘I was greatly and passionately inspired by Patch Adams.’ He sounded dreamy, but she unperceived the underlying sarcasm.

‘I’ve never heard of them before? Did you know them?’

Bursting with an obnoxious laugh, he looked upon her as she rolled her eyes. There was no point trying to get any information out of him, House always found ways to deflect.

Leaning forward he forced himself to stand, hastily swallowing the rest of his nightcap, he began to stagger towards his bedroom. He gave one last comment before departing for good;

‘I know what you did.’ It was ominous. His back was still facing her.

‘I didn’t think you would have it in you to steal.’

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I hope you are enjoying it so far! This is going to end up being chock-full of metaphors XD

'Who Are You' - The Who 1978

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Tag list:

@indestructeible @suziek415

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~ I really have enjoyed my stay, but I must be moving on ~

#house #house md #housemd #drhouse #dr house #greg house #greg house x reader #gregoryhousexreader #housexreader #house md x reader #house x reader #1920s #1920s fanfic #historical fanfiction #dr house x reader #x reader #reader insert

[firstelevens]

No. 20 from the eras tour prompt list for sambucky ? ?

did I hear someone ask for a Sweet Home Alabama Louisiana AU? no? well I wrote the start of one anyway, so here it is

20. all your dirtiest jokes

Pebbles go flying as Bucky pulls his rental up in front of Sam’s house. He kind of wishes there was the satisfying screech of tires on asphalt to emphasize his mood, but he slams the car door twice as hard to make up for it, and feels just a little bit better afterwards.

Back when they were kids, the Wilsons’ place had been close enough to the neighbors’ houses to wave at them from the porch. The house that Sam bought when he came home from his first tour is set back a lot further than that, wooded where it doesn’t back up onto the water, so Bucky has no compunctions about getting a little shouty.

“Sam Wilson, I know you’re in there!” he calls out, walking up to the front door. “You can dodge my calls as long as you want, but I’m not going anywhere until you open up.”

It’s not a big house, and there’s at least three open windows, so there’s no question that Bucky’s voice is carrying through loud and clear, but there’s no response. Bucky raps sharply on the doorframe.

“You can’t avoid me forever, Sam. I know this town just as well as you do, and I will follow you everywhere.”

It takes another five minutes, but finally, Bucky sees a figure approaching through the frosted glass pane on the front door. When it swings open, he’s met with a bare-chested Sam Wilson, breathing heavy from a workout as he pulls his earbuds out of his ears.

For all that he was yelling a second ago, Bucky suddenly can’t seem to make words come out of his mouth. To add insult to injury, Sam seems perfectly unaffected by the sight of him, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Bucky Barnes,” he drawls, and Bucky hates how comforting that voice still is after all this time. “What can I do for you?”

In a second, the ire comes flickering back to life. The nerve of Sam, to ask that question when he knows perfectly well the only thing that Bucky’s been asking him for for the past year.

He holds up the envelope that’s the whole reason he had to drag his ass back here, a thousand miles and twenty years removed from home.

“You could start by giving me a fucking divorce.”

Bucky spent so long working himself up over this, back in New York and on the plane here and on the almost-two-hour drive from New Orleans. He’d written and rewritten a hundred different speeches, rehearsed so many arguments with the Sam in his head that he was sure he’d know exactly what to say.

But now he was here, and he’d gone and delivered what should’ve been the last line of his scathing speech way too early, and what more was there to do except stand there on Sam’s porch and glare at him expectantly?

Sam, for his part, looks at Bucky consideringly for a moment, then peers around him to look out towards the yard. “You should come inside,” he says, and then steps away, leaving the door open.

The petty part of Bucky wants to refuse, wants to make a nuisance of himself right here on the porch so Sam can’t ignore him, but then he stops to take in his surroundings for longer than a second. The air is thick, the heat more sluggish than it was when his flight touched down. Beyond the trees, the sky has gotten darker. It’s been a while since Bucky lived on the bayou, but the signs of an oncoming storm haven’t changed.

He huffs and steps into Sam’s house, closing the door behind him just as thunder rumbles in the distance. It’s cooler inside, at least, and as Sam moves further into the house, Bucky figures he’s supposed to follow. He’s still not completely over his need to be a nuisance—or so he tells himself—so he goes slowly, glancing around at the house that Sam bought long after Bucky wasn’t a part of his life anymore.

Bucky knows it’s a completely different building, but part of him still expects that it’ll be the house that Sam grew up in, all warm wood and quiet chaos. Somewhere in his head, he thinks that if he just went up that staircase in front of him, he’d end up in Sam’s childhood bedroom, sixteen years old and laid out on the floor with the boombox between them, laughing at the dirty jokes that Sam heard in senior calc or trying to figure out just what the deal was between their grade’s latest on-again, off-again couple.

But this isn’t that house, Bucky reminds himself, and this isn’t back then. He’s not looking to go back in time; he just wants to go forwards, and he could if Sam would just cooperate.

“What happened, you get lost in that hallway?” asks Sam, when Bucky finally makes it to the kitchen. He doesn’t bother answering, but Sam’s back is to him, so there’s no way to tell whether he’s even noticed. “Hey, cream and no sugar, right?”

“What?”

Sam turns around with a mug of coffee in his hand, and Bucky’s pretty sure he can’t hide how he immediately perks up when the cup is set in front of him. For a second, he thinks about telling Sam that he does take sugar now, just to be contrarian, but then he remembers he’d actually have to drink it and throws that plan out the window.

“This is fine, thanks,” he eventually says, setting the envelope on the island and picking up the coffee. He hasn’t had caffeine since before his flight this morning, and he can feel the first sip right down to his toes. His eyes actually close for a second, and when he opens them, Sam is back on the other side of the counter, looking amused. There’s no mug in his hands.

“You’re not having any?” Bucky asks. “What’d you do, poison it?” 

Even if he did, Bucky’s not convinced he’d be able to put it down. It’s really good coffee.

“I will,” says Sam. “But my Mama would kill me if I entertained company like this, so I’ll be right back. Make yourself at home; the view’s nice from the family room if you missed the water.”

He breezes out before Bucky can argue, his footsteps thudding up the stairs between one sip of coffee and the next.

After a moment of looking around incredulously, waiting to see if maybe he’s being pranked, Bucky decides this is just Sam trying to annoy him into leaving, and he won’t let it work. He marches into the family room just as the rain starts in earnest, and just to spite Sam, he turns his back to the French doors and surveys the rest of the room. There’s art hanging up, intermingled with family photos. Lumpy ceramics that are definitely grade school art projects sit beside beautiful crystalline sculptures, tall and spiky and somehow familiar.

Along one of the walls is the credenza that Bucky recognizes from Sam’s parents’ house, the one that Mr. Wilson had hauled home from an estate sale and refinished just because Sam’s mother had lingered beside it for a few seconds longer than anything else. It’s a different color now than it was before, but Bucky would recognize it anywhere. Sitting on top of it are what Bucky guesses are the important photos: Sarah’s wedding, Mr. and Mrs. Wilson on the boat together, Sam with a toddler beside him and a baby in his arms. 

Furthest to the left is a picture of the dock behind the Wilson house. Two figures sit at the end of it, leaning into each other in the sunshine. One of them wears a t-shirt, gangly arms braced behind them. The other has a letterman jacket on, and that’s what tips Bucky off when he picks up the frame to look at it more closely: that’s him and Sam, sitting out where they did almost every day after school. Sam had gotten his varsity jacket for the baseball team when they were sophomores, and Bucky was pretty sure he’d worn it more often than Sam had. He’d always liked the way it felt on his shoulders, and when fall rolled around and the wind blew in a little cooler off the water, Sam always passed it over to him without needing to be asked.

They’d gotten a little more refined, once driver’s licenses were acquired and curfews were lengthened. Sam would drive the Wilsons’ old pickup truck a little ways out of town, to an empty plot of land flanked by trees on one side and water on the other, and they would sit and soak up the wind off the water until they could both breathe a little easier. Bucky had started thinking of it as their piece of the island, the safest place he could ever remember being.

When the future had barreled towards them with no signs of stopping, it was where Sam had driven them, nothing around but the birds in the trees when he quietly suggested his plan for getting out of Delacroix and taking Bucky with him. Nobody else had been around to see Bucky fling his arms around Sam’s neck and whisper a muffled yes into his shoulder, either: both of them a little bit scared of the future but determined to make it better for each other.

Maybe they can be reasonable about this. Maybe he and Sam can look at each other and see exactly what the other person needs, the way they did when they were younger. Maybe there don’t have to be questions and discussions and the kind of passive aggressive emails they’ve been exchanging through lawyers for the past year.

The rain is still coming down hard, lulling Bucky into a daze, so he can’t be blamed for the way he startles when Sam’s voice sounds from behind him. He scrambles to grab the picture frame before it falls out of his hands, setting it down and taking a beat before he turns around.

Sam is holding the envelope with the divorce papers in his hands, but Bucky has seen his ‘I give up’ face and that definitely isn’t it.

“The entire year that we’ve been going over this, I’ve asked you the same question, over and over, and you’ve never answered,” Sam says.

“Fuck,” says Bucky, scrubbing a hand down his face. “This? Again?”

“Yeah, again,” says Sam. “Because if I’m getting a divorce, I at least deserve to know why. I deserve to know what changed.”

“I have told you every single time you asked, Sam. Nothing changed. Nothing changed, because this was never a real marriage, and you know that. We got married so we could both get the fuck out of this town, and so I could stop being so terrified all the time, and we did that, and now we’re done.”

Sam crosses his arms, setting his jaw, and it occurs to Bucky that this is the first battle of a long war. “We did all that fifteen years ago, easy. That’s not what this is about. What changed, Buck?”

But Bucky can’t answer Sam any more now than he could the first time he asked that question a year ago. He can’t remind Sam of all the things he missed out on because he was tied to Bucky, he can’t bring up Riley or Sam’s parents or all the little ways that Bucky managed to steal things from him without even trying, because Sam would never see it. Even now, squaring off against each other with no possible middle ground, Sam would never see it, so Bucky can’t say it.

“Just sign the damn papers, Sam,” is what Bucky says instead.

It’s the first time he’s ever evaded the question in person. Somehow when he pictured Sam reading all those emails and messages he’d sent, Bucky had never imagined a flicker of disappointment on his face, gone as soon as it appeared.

Sam turns to set the envelope on an end table and picks up a wristwatch from beside it, doing up the strap before he turns around again. When he does, he’s got a determinedly cheerful smile on his face, the kind that Bucky has always known meant trouble.

“Gee, Buck, I wish I could, but as it happens, I’m running late for something,” he says, with an exaggerated look at his watch. “Maybe later?”

He’s already heading for the door, leaving Bucky to hurry after him. “What do you mean you’re late for something? Where the fuck are you going in a hurricane?”

Sam snorts. “You’ve been away too long. This is barely even a storm.”

An enormous crack of lightning punctuates his words, and Bucky raises his eyebrows.

“It’s a drizzle,” says Sam, pulling on a jacket. “And I have a date.”

Bucky is not entirely prepared for the feelings that those words stoke in his chest, but worse still is what Sam calls out before the door swings shut behind him.

“Guest bedroom’s upstairs, second door on the left. Don’t wait up.”

He’s not entirely sure how much time he loses, fuming in the foyer of Sam’s house, but eventually, that rage sharpens into something else entirely as he remembers what he yelled out standing on Sam’s porch half an hour ago.

He knows this town just as well as Sam does.

He knows this town just as well as Sam does, and unless fifty years of corporate development hit Delacroix in the last fifteen, there’s only one place to take a date if you’re an adult who doesn’t want to get accosted by the entire senior population of the island over the course of your evening.

Bucky pulls his keys from his pocket and and umbrella from Sam’s coat closet. If Sam means to drag this out, Bucky’s going to make sure he feels every single second, until he decides for himself that this marriage is more trouble than it’s worth.

(And if, before he leaves, he swaps his comfortable traveling clothes for a short sleeved button down that’s a size too small and not buttoned enough, well, nobody ever said Bucky was perfect.)

#sambucky #ok admittedly i lied emma did in fact cheerlead the writing of this and encourage me the whole way but what's new #this is truly just like. the opening half a chapter of this au but I have THOUGHTS #to be clear the rest of it is never getting written unless a miracle occurs #but here have this nonsense on the occasion of bonky's birthday #zainab does ask meme things #taylor swift prompt fics

[abarbaricyalp]

Something to Hold Onto

Rated E // 3.3k words // AO3 // y'all all got thirsty over SebStan's long hair, so I figured Sam would do the same with Bucky

It had been months since Sam had seen Bucky. Other than the occasional text, or the ever aggravating and endearing note left in their kitchen, they'd barely even spoken since the world's bitchiest woman with way too many names showed up in the middle of a late breakfast with a pardon-dependent order for Bucky to work for her.

Sam tried to investigate on his own, but it’s not like he had much time. Despite both of them working out of DC, getting orders from the same organizations, Sam felt like every attempt to get more information on the so-called 'Thunderbolts' had been met with a brick wall. It has something to do with Thaddeus Ross, was the only full sentence anyone would say. Information which made the name even more irritating.

It also made Sam's stomach turn over in knots. Because Bucky under Ross' thumb, Ross with that thumb over a button that could yank Bucky's pardon away, was asking for trouble. Sam didn't like Ross. Steve hadn't liked Ross. So Bucky obviously didn't like him either. And Ross couldn't be trusted with the command of a soldier like Bucky. Sam was sure Ross referred to him as the Winter Soldier still. That’s all he’d want out of Bucky.

Bucky's notes were as lively as Sam could hope for. He left flowers now and then. There  were grease stains in the pattern of Bucky's long fingers once. No blood. And his texts were coherent and neat. Sam knew from experience that Bucky’s words got shorter and more unintelligible if he was hurt or upset.

Still, Sam was supremely jealous that maybe Bucky got to see him on TV. Captain America had to give interviews and everyone filmed daring rescues and gossip shows talked about every picture of him. Sam, on the other hand, was working with nothing. He rarely even knew where Bucky was–the only hint ever being how he signed off a letter or a text in a different language. And that was usually after the fact. 

Sam was worried. And he was angry. But he was also pouting. Below all the big, intense superhero things, when he stripped away the bureaucratic bullshit and removed the danger of this kind of arrangement, at the end of it all, he just desperately missed his partner. He hated living in a house alone. He hated not being in the house when he had to be in DC. He wanted Bucky's opinions on reforming the Avengers and he really wanted his help training and wrangling a bunch of teenagers who suddenly came out of the woodwork with powers. He didn't want to be cooking for one again. He missed being able to talk about TV with someone. His heart broke when the boys asked where Bucky was and even Sarah had started to shoot him worried glances when she thought he couldn't see.

It was a lot to deal with. And he knew he was being a pain at this gala event because he could feel frown lines digging in around his mouth and no one had asked for a picture in an hour. To be fair to himself, the woman with sixteen names was here and there was really no saving his mood after seeing her. Thankfully, she hadn't tried to talk to him this time. The last time they ran into each other, she had grabbed his bicep while saying something undercutting and mean and he had genuinely sneered at her. Sam Wilson didn't sneer. He could count the other times he had on one hand, and probably none of them involved people. But he couldn't help it around her.

The event was something to do with the formation of a new organization that was supposed to help young powered individuals. Something had shifted in the world in the last ten years, between everything ending and then coming back. Homo-Superior became a phrase Sam had to learn. Aliens co-existed (and co-populated) with humans. Multiverses. Every day, there seemed to be new fallout from old battles. Kids who trained themselves, kids who were exposed to some material that affected them, kids who picked up artifacts they shouldn't have. Half of the new semi-Avengers weren't even out of college. Or younger.

Pepper had been part of this, so Sam trusted it. He and Stark didn't see eye to eye often, but Pepper had honored Stark's memory and legacy in a way that surpassed what was already there. He kept a wary eye on alphabet soup officials, but no one particularly bad, aside from the obvious, seemed to be around.

There were other heroes. Faces Sam recognized and friends he missed. Barton was around and Sam had almost melted in relief to see him. Pepper, of course. A few others he recognized from the news but hadn't met yet. He had been introduced to a few at the beginning of the evening but the trend had trickled off as the night wore on and heroes lost their handlers. Funny how, even at something like this, people wanted heroes controlled. 

It wasn't until he saw Belova that something finally clicked in his brain. The woman with 64 names wouldn't just be here by herself. She took her new menagerie with her everywhere. Sam just about spun on his heel to figure out where Belova had come from and found the rest of her team standing a little awkwardly by the door. Except for the one who wasn't.

Bucky was striding after Belova, calling after her under his breath. Sam couldn't hear him but he knew exactly what he sounded like–the quiet, irritated hiss of his words, the way he'd press his lips together and clench his jaw. Sam had been on the other side of it often.

He looked good. Actually, he looked amazing. He'd filled out again and was wearing a suit Sam had never seen. It fit him snugly and clung to all the new-old muscles of his legs and his chest and his arms and his ass. At first, Sam thought the suit was black but then Bucky stepped under a sconce and Sam realized it was a dark burgundy velvet with black silk lapels. He was wearing a black turtleneck under it, which he kept yanking away from his throat. Which, yeah. Sam wasn't sure who dressed him, but Bucky hated most things touching his neck. But, damn if it wasn't a pretty look. His beard had come in, full and kempt. And his hair.

Sam liked the short hair. It made Bucky look boyish and charming, took off decades worth of suffering. And it had been a whole part of him regaining his own autonomy and getting used to his reflection again. It was clean and fluffy and it curled on the really humid days. Sam's fingers fit right into it short. There was always a little downy at the base of his neck that, when Sam played with it, could put Bucky right out like warm milk.

His hair was not short right now. It was long enough that he had it wrapped in a neat bun on the back of his head. Pieces fluttered around his face, which seemed to be aggravating him as much as the turtleneck. He didn't have a bunch of product in it–a miracle, honestly–and Sam just wanted to put his fingers through it. Pull out the ponytail holder and massage away the tension of having it tied back.

Bucky caught Belova’s wrist and she barely even reacted. She just gestured across the room and Sam watched Bucky’s eyes snap up towards him. It felt like a physical crash when their gazes met and Sam watched Bucky forget about keeping Belova in line–as if that was possible–in favor of crossing the room towards Sam. Sam had prepared himself for a real collision, but Bucky came up short just before his hands could land on Sam’s waist.

“What are you doing here?” he asked in a far softer way than Sam was expecting.

“Man, I should be asking you that. Where have you been?” Sam asked. He had less self control than Bucky, and he reached for Bucky’s suit coat to drag him closer. At that point, Bucky broke too and wrapped Sam so tightly in his arms, Sam actually lost breath. Still, he just pressed his face against Bucky’s shoulder, pressed his cheek against the coolness of the metal that was coming through his suit. “God, I’ve missed you,” he sighed.

“Not the way I’ve missed you,” Bucky answered and held him tighter. He put his face against the top of Sam’s head, took a deep breath that tickled Sam’s scalp, and just stood there. “Do you know how hard it is to know exactly where you are but not be able to go to you?”

The words sent a deeply possessive, needy shiver through Sam. “We’re both here now,” he breathed. He found Bucky’s elbows, stepped away just enough to hold onto him. “Come on, let’s make the most of it before one of us has to disappear again.”

Continue on AO3

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #captain america #sambucky fanfic #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws #writing

[ruby-red-inky-blue]

Carrie watches: The Unsleeping City S2

there are so many spoilers and this is so long, proceed at your own risk

all the little Kugrash throwbacks are breaking my heart

but nothing more than Kug’s name coming up in conversation and Emily just silently rolling for Sofia’s relapse mechanic :(

Iga is honestly the coolest. obsessed with her whole deal. she is so practical and business minded and in touch with her roots and she has a sickly dragon familiar and she’s magical but kinda doesn’t give a fuck? incredible

“you don’t have time to date! you’re falling out of a tower!”

it infuriates me how Brennan is so detail oriented but then whenever it comes to Europe he gets the most hand-wave-y imaginable. sir. sir. you cannot describe a Polish landscape as Alpine. consult a single map. wtf.

what is a borscht bite my guy that is a soup. how do you serve a soup as finger food and also how does sheep’s cheese factor into any of it

honestly every campaign Murph just figures out a whole new flavour of “deeply pathetic guy” but i think he may have hit peak rock bottom with “he’s a mall goth without a mall”

i’ve never seen nerd culture parodied so viciously every time Cody speaks i cringe so hard i swear my toenails roll in on themselves

the Ricky/Cody duo trying to puzzle out a plot point at the mist wall in Iga’s castle is fascinating to watch because the characters are the objectively worst choice and the players are the objectively best choice. It’s like they probably could figure the whole thing out here but it would be out of character so they can’t it’s very funny

Sofia talking to Cody like an exasperated single mother with a misbehaved thirteen-year-old

Iga’s traditional fairy tales disappearing from the shelves is just devastating. Mr Mulligan I just want to talk

“Murph summoned New Jersey!”

nobody looks more mortified at the New Jersey incursion than the guy actually from there. honestly this is so relatable I’ve been nothing but mortified by my fellow state citizens for years

Lowell is just. such an absurd yet incredibly effective plot device. And frankly an incredibly solid communicator

“All I can think about is how I could have sold him Xanax”

done!Ricky is not something I expected to want but it is glorious

Lou rules-lawyering his way into remote-controlling a Tesla

“I just want you to know that I’ve rolled a trigger roll every time you do something with the weapon that my husband gave me -“ “Oh GOD-“ “Cody has no idea, how could he know?” “Yeah, do it, Murph, do the bit!” YIKES

Sofia casting silence on Ricky so he can scream a bit

so last season the mission statement was “New York, New York” and this one it’s “In A New York Minute” I want to be annoyed but I’m so impressed god damn it

Kingston trying and failing to convince Sofia he *wasn’t* constantly out on Staten Island when Jackson was running the show

Cody being super emotional finding out that Santa is real

also the sheer delight from the players when Wally’s return is announced <3

“Not only did you not get the Questing Blade but you have a magical sword that would be cooler than the Questing Blade if you didn’t feel like you deserved the Questing Blade.”

“The fact that you said this like it was something that - ‘these aren’t clowns, these are true clowns’”

La Gran Gata fully distracted by the Garfield float ❤️

as much as every line out of Cody’s mouth gives me a headache, giving Pete just the most cringefail of cis guy friends is somehow a stroke of genius

Pete pulling a real Riz move and getting out a fucking gun in the most whimsical of settings

Ally did not come to play this fight hot damn

Lou deciding to be largely useless because Kingston *would* just fucking hate running around a balloon float is some excellent commitment to the roleplay

“Don’t worry I’ve been cut in the chest before, I healed up, I have plenty of Arnica left at my house” Pete you’re my hero

“NOTHING BAD IS EVER GONNA HAPPEN TO US” Lou 😬 buddy 😬 Mr Wilson 😬 sir 😬 you are jinxing this HARD

Kingston ✨✨💫hacking✨💫✨

Emily’s deeply pained “nooo don’t make us go to New Jersey” is sending me

“Cypher Energy presents: The Gladiator Industries Recreational Rotating Horse Area” I’d like to teach my followers the incredible German saying “I can’t possibly eat the amount of food I want to throw up”*   *Max Liebermann, German Jewish artist (1847-1935), reportedly made this comment at the sight of the Nazi’s celebratory torchlight march through Berlin on the day the NSDAP seized power in parliament in 1933.

Sofia just hammering into Cody to fucking behave at the Kugrichs’ home is breaking my damn heart

I think in some way or other Murph has been responsible for at least seventy percent of Sofia’s relapse rolls so far

seeing Brennan’s love for that scene where Kug awkwardly hopped around the crime scene at his son’s home disguised as a ratty eagle fills me with such joy

“most of them have committed crazy tax fraud because they’ve been alive for so long so we just get the city to repossess their homes and then we bulldoze them in broad daylight and it’s a much easier way to hunt vampires” David takes after his father in the funniest way imaginable I adore him

Emily just fully walking into that nativity joke, good job everyone

Kingston’s aggressive thanksgiving invites

Murph is so committed to playing this 27-year-old goth who used to hold a management position like some brutally repressed sixteen-year-old

Ricky is just. such a good guy. like yeah obviously but honestly Zac’s ability to make characters that are so profoundly good just bowls me over all the time, what a guy

the whole bit about JJ’s loneliness speaks to me, Big City Loneliness is so real that poor kid (someone get me out of this city 🙃 help 🙃)

Pete bringing special drink options for Sofia to the thanksgiving party 😭

“turns out all of her rules were based on a hunch from a woman in the 800s”

there’s no way to describe how Brennan is doing both the most and least convincing drug pusher imaginable but I am concerned by 53\/3N

I’m living for JJ’s cheerful enthusiasm to steal back the Native art from the Met, and the fact that Ricky is completely down with it

Alejandro!

“Misiek dies... all the time. you probably just find him dead every three days or so. he is not well.”

Cody, Ricky and the katana is just. just oceans of pain. like I have subzero interest in Japanese culture personally and I still think white men with katanas are the worst flavour of all

I’m still trying to figure out if Cody was created to be funny specifically to Emily or to Brennan. I mean probably Emily but honestly I did not expect this to be the character that cracks Brennan’s composure most often

for a former English linguistics major I am really not that good with accents and I can feel my brain leaking out my ears trying to pinpoint what the hell Brennan is doing with this unicorn

ah yes, the spirits of New York, a juicy cockroach, a spicy pigeon and a regular unicorn

Brennan’s little tangent about love for objects not out of materialism but out of a love for history and permanent tangible traces of time??? my history nerd heart swelled five sizes yes you GET it

“I’ll admit, when I wanted to sort of honour Kugrash by taking up his mantle I did not assume I would also take on his aesthetic and that is something that I’ll have to think about but overall this is a net positive” oh Ricky

are they. are they playing some variation of “new york minute” over Brennan’s technobabble explanation or am I hearing things now. if so, massive kudos

the idea that you could change or destroy magic by making it evident to more people because it would be impacted by being observed!

“Can you ask Nod if it’s possible to bring somebody back?” “Dale?” “I was thinking Kugrash.” honestly Murph very deservedly won a wife guy poll but Emily is consistently 100 percent ride-or-die for his little creature pcs and all their questionable decisions and that shouldn’t be overlooked

genuinely choices were made with whose closeup they chose to cut to as a reaction sometimes

"I might be pregnant and if I am I have to tell him, it might be more complicated -” “I have three bricks of cocaine in my backpack right now!”

“let’s go to the bathroom and you flush the cocaine and I take a pregnancy test”

“Pete you’re on your knees in a bathroom stall flushing bricks of cocaine. you’re also in Nod so this toilet sprouts two eyes and goes yum yum yum, I’m always hungry!” this is why i cannot talk about this show outside of tumblr jesus christ

“toilet don’t make it look fun, whatever you do!” “nonononono, I’m not - I’m not having fun! this isn’t fun, I just - I just feel very productive does anyone want to write a screenplay?”

Cody having a brief moment of clarity about cultural appropriation and just hanging around a museum while everyone else tries to save the fucking world

dude is finally over the first bump of the Dunning-Kruger curve

I have such a deep desire to see Iga in her eighties get-up, Eastern Bloc eighties hits different

“does Pete know what an anglerfish is? ... what you thought was this entitity reaching out to Heather is really just a lantern.” HOW DOES HE KEEP DOING THIS wtf Brennan calm down

oh boy knowing this campaign was filmed in late 2020 makes so much sense with how much visceral loneliness and creeping despair there is in it (and also obvious DIY haircuts)

“MY LUNGS ARE MADE OF LIGHT! I’M NOT GONNA GET POPCORN LUNG IN HEAVEN!”

love how much the previous season matters to this one. all the big and some little choices come back and Kug isn’t just missed but his absence is actively creating problems in the world and the sacrifice mattered but also the sacrifice created a hole because that’s the point but it’s still mostly its own story

take notes, serialised media

Siobhan coming in clutch with the historian’s latin: targeted guessing

I’m so agitated that they may be getting the “what if anything remains” line wrong because I think it comes with a bunch of commas (”what, if anything, remains?”) and that’s my brand of nerd in a nutshell

also (and that is even more on brand) i have like .4% of Latin but that sentence does not look right

oh good after the anglerfish thing we’re dropping megalodon metaphors into the conversation! nng nothing gets me like deep sea horror

Sondheim’s back!

Cody finally putting some work in to learn about arms and armour only to come out of it butt naked with the worst sword in the world is so painfully on brand

“he doesn’t need the underwear, no. he might need to chafe a little to... learn.”

“I had a house once”

Murph slowly losing his mind in the upper right corner for the entirety of that Perry the Pigeon encounter

Kug’s deeply bizarre descriptors being mythologised will never get old. how is the pigeon spicy?? will we ever know

obviously Dr Lugash is an absolute hero

Sofia and her invincible embryo are cracking me up, big ups to Brennan for just preemptively going “we are absolutely not gonna do a miscarriage plot line thank you”

but also I just watched two friends roleplay a gynaecologist appointment for like twenty minutes. not a thing I ever thought I’d do for fun but sure

“we exit from the chest -” Ally, dejectedly: “...eggsit.” Murph, in an equally disappointed tone: “I thought the same thing.” “we’re not proud of it.”

Brennan fully imploding with the cuteness of his own story when Kingston holds the egg

“Iga resolved hundreds of years of tension between humans and dragons, it was really something!” “I almost talked to Cody... but then I didn’t.”

living for the meta jokes about the structure of the episode “hey Sophie, remember how we didn’t talk at all during that really long train ride?” “Pete takes off his beats headphones, like, oh, are we all talking again?”

the monastery! of little cockroaches! with toothpick sticks! praying to a rat that is the universe!! I may be crying over cockroaches here soon

“when I meditate very deeply, sometimes I can feel his whiskers, I can feel his presence... he ate the bagel of all things and he knows everything and even when he knew everything he still chose to love the universe” my HEART

“He really is Rat Jesus” Ally’s voice so perfectly caught between wonder and laughter, and like same, Brennan turned the one-off joke from the beginning of Kug’s intro into a?? profound truth?? somehow, I’m amazed

“rat jesus in the aspect of the chinchilla” I want to know all about this theology. Happy Easter btw

the sword stats are insane, and giving the unluckiest player known to man a weapon he has to roll a 15 or higher to even lift is probably the funniest and cruelest thing I’ve ever seen good job Brennan

first attempt to use it he rolls a nat one. poetic cinema.

Brennan’s rant about weapons that are sharp on more than one side is so good

“What sort of faith would you say is shielding you right now, Cody?”

“You stand on sacred ground, and will meet only death!” I know he rolled a nat 20 but Lou did not have to go that hard, damn

the idea of Iga’s kids doing Kug’s dumb dance on tiktok is the most precious thing in the world to me

the. the cockroaches have taken prisoners of war. and are treating them in accordance with the geneva conventions?? yet another thing you just can’t think about for too long

Brennan (who usually handles deities in stories incredibly deftly) outsourcing this huge exposition dump to Kug is a weird call narratively? it’s really hard to keep a scene emotionally rewarding while rattling off a list of very specific fetch quests, and also. you’re already asking Mr Grounded Irreverence to pull off an enlightened being and then you give him a wall of text to read out? I think with most cosmic beings shark movie rules apply. can’t show us the whole shark. Kug only works as hints and glimpses and vague impressions on the breeze now, much as it kills me

that said, Murph-as-Cody complimenting his own character design is pretty funny

ooooooh the little twist with someone settling Pete’s debt with 53\/3N, this is the good stuff

the ongoing bit about Sofia’s tablet that she can’t get to work, the Dream Team remains hilariously low tech New Yorkers only

don’t quite want to know what it says about me that for the entire time of Sofia’s conversation in front of the church I had my hackles up SO much. like I just Do Not Trust men to just be that nice for no reason (a very lovely take on it tho)

“….Jesus fucking Christ.”

“we’re not gonna put this dragon through college”

this whole conversation is such a gift

Brennan still getting shit for “you lay together”

Murph’s face when Ally goes “I hide Nod in my spleen, the heart’s too obvious”

Ally truly is the MVP this season, they are the heart and soul of this campaign

Ricky is the absolute worst time traveller. what a mess bless him.

MISTY! Well, Holly, but same difference!

the prophecy of the Irish woman is SO cool

ALEJANDRO!

Misty/Holly already flirting at Kingston is so funny, Siobhan you are so underrated

pretty sure Kingston just put a lit candle in his pocket

“young man, that’s a nice coat”

“Kug ran a great catch-neuter-release. They just loved him, just herds of cats....”

Rowan!

the only thing funnier than Murph’s shock and outrage at the Beck’s can opener was “your husband got you a Visa gift card for your birthday??” last season

the reactions to “I’ve told Tony we might be able to save Heather and I think that was a mistake” are the perfect reverse of the six of crows ‘how to steal a man’s wallet’ Lou (in character): “no I doubt it was!” Ally (in character): “no no, trust your intuition!” Murph (out of character): “literally... literally how could you not” Siobhan (in character): “do you want me to beat this guy up, he sounds bad. what are we doing.”

Siobhan’s characters don’t even tend to carry knives but are somehow always most likely to stab a bitch

Kingston just wandering around with a huge egg

“Sofia, you are a woman pulled over on the side of the road, punching the backseat of your own car” “this! is! not! my! low! if you can believe it!”

an excursion on Heaven’s return policies

“I need a fucking weapon”

the most poignant little meow from Brennan’s cat

the absolute shock in the whole group that Cody read Dante’s inferno

honestly getting Rowan to sub in was a stroke of absolute genius

“i have subtle spell you sad, sad man”

Cody and Lucifer aka Brennan and Murph having a cringe-off

Brennan was definitely gunning for this to be heartbreaking but Emily’s initial attempt to save Dale is all chaos, “this just looks like an insane breakup. a real Staten Island breakup.”

Ricky is excited to baby-proof the house, naturally

the bit about the drones’ AC is so funny and I can’t explain why

“what do you mean, racing a moped through a tunnel in a dark cave isn’t safe and good?”

the divine intervention roll! “I think Brennan just actually came” (Siobhan is 100 percent correct on that) “don’t touch me don’t touch me” (on a zoom call)

“say it in an excited way to trick Brennan into thinking - oh I actually got an eight!!”

half the party playing hot potato with Kug’s legacy for several minutes

the continued bit of people inviting Ricky to go jewellery shopping is glorious. “I don’t think he’s gonna get it on his own.”

does this mean nobody can eat at the amusement park?

jesus the fucking green screen clipping in and out every five seconds is so bad, why do i chose not to just go audio only

Iga has a storytelling night in Pete’s bookshop :(

Ricky’s “You Don’t Have To Be Good” afterschool sports club sounds like a thing I would have needed in school tbh

Em!!! how I’ve missed you

the commitment to Spaghetti’s Bakery my beloved

“so how is Flute Neuter Release going?”

#yes i was raised on polish-adjacent food and i am taking this way too personally #once again this was written largely for myself but i hope it entertains *someone* #dimension 20 #the unsleeping city #the unsleeping city II #carrie watches #long post #intrepid heroes

[ris-multi-fandom]

Day 6 of Housevember22!

Fandom: House

Pairings: Gregory House x James Wilson

Characters: Gregory House, James Wilson, Lisa Cuddy, Alison Cameron, Eric Foreman, Robert Chase, Chris Taub, Remy Hadley.

TW for drug use and drug overdose.

November 6th: Empty

“House! House! Can you hear me?” His eyes drifted open and he could see the concerned face of a man that he recognised but couldn’t quite remember.

“Wilson, what happened?” He heard a woman approaching them, heels clicking quickly on the floor as she rushed to catch up. He recognised the voice, but couldn’t keep his eyes open long enough to see who it was.

”He’s an idiot that’s what,” he heard the man reply, “I found this,” he tried to open his eyes to see what the man had found, “this was prescribed to him yesterday, now it’s empty,” he made out the shape of a pill bottle before his eyes shut again and everything succumbed to the darkness.

————

“House, follow my finger with your eyes,” another man said to him, a black guy dressed in a smart suit, he knew the man but didn’t at the same time. He did as he was told and the man seemed satisfied.

”Can you speak?” A woman asked this time, a pretty brunette came into his line of sight.

”yeah,” he tried to say, but nothing came out.

“Your mouth’s probably just a bit dry,” the man said, “Thirteen’s now getting you some water. The woman came back and he could feel a straw being placed between his lips. He sipped on the water before it was placed on the table next to his bed.

“Can you speak now?” She asked again.

”Yeah,” he muttered, his voice was hoarse but it was there.

“Can you tell me your name?”

He went to speak but he suddenly felt tired, his eyes shut and he could feel himself sinking into a darkness that was soon surrounding him.

”We need a crash cart in here!”

————

When he woke up again it was to a blonde woman staring down at him.

”He’s awake,” she said to someone over her shoulder.

“Good,” he heard, “How are you feeling House?” A short middle aged man came over.

”Alright,” he replied.

”No you’re not,” the woman said, it was weird, he knew that she’s somebody he knows but he couldn’t give her a name.

”Can you tell me what your name is?” The man asked him.

”House,” he answered.

”First name?” He questioned. House thought for a moment, but nothing came to his mind.

”Do you remember who I am?” The woman asked.

”No,” he admitted.

”It’s me, it’s Cameron,” she told him, “and this is Taub.”

”I know, but I don’t know,” he said, “I know that I recognise you but I can’t remember anyone’s names,” he noticed the two doctors looking at each other, concerned expressions on their faces.

————

“How’s he doing Foreman?” He opened his eyes and saw the same man who had brought him in was back.

”There’s a small bleed on his brain, from what we can tell he hit his head when he collapsed, it explains why he can’t remember names. We’re keeping an eye on him but it should sort itself out, if it doesn’t we’ll go in and cauterise it,” he heard the other man, Foreman, say.

”Looks like he’s awake again,” the first man said, coming over to sit next to him, “hey House, it’s Wilson.”

”Wilson,” House repeated, “what happened?”

”You overdosed,” Wilson replied, House could tell he was angry at him, “a whole bottle of Vicodin. Empty. You took a whole bottle of Vicodin House.”

”I was in a lot of pain,” he muttered, remembering back to the feeling he had in his leg mere hours earlier, “and it wasn’t a full bottle, I had been taking some throughout the day, it was probably just over a half.”

”That’s still a lot you idiot!” Wilson yelled.

”I was in a lot of pain!” House yelled back. Wilson looked at him, anger on his face, but that soon changed to a look of concern, “What?”

“Foreman!” Wilson called out. The other man came over, “does his eyes look yellow to you?” House was suddenly blinded by a light shining in his eyes.

”Crap,” Foreman said, “his liver’s failing.”

————

“UNOS won’t let him have one, he’s a drug addict!” He heard a woman arguing.

”You’re the Dean of medicine, isn’t there something you can do?” That was Wilson who was arguing back.

”I can’t break the law and steal an organ because he’s fried his liver!” The woman cried back.

”He’s going to die if you don’t Cuddy!”

“You don’t think I don’t know that, I don’t want him to die but if I do this not only would I got to prison but everyone involved would, this hospital wouldn’t be able to do another transplant again and who is that going to help?” Cuddy replied.

”House! It would help House!” Wilson yelled back.

”Can you guys keep it down? I’m trying to sleep over here,” House grumbled and the two looked over to him.

”Hey how are you?” Cuddy asked, coming over.

”Well I’m dying, so there’s that,” he replied.

”No you’re not,” Wilson said, “I’m going to donate half of my liver.”

”What?” Cuddy asked, “Have you even thought about this?”

“I have a liver, his is crap. I have O- blood, he’s AB+. I’m a universal donor, he’s a universal recipient. It’s a match made in heaven,” Wilson countered.

”You’ll be risking your life,” Cuddy said, “I’m not saying you shouldn’t do it but just think about it first.”

”I don’t think you’ll have much time to think about it,” House said, “I’m about to crash,” the other two doctors looked over to him as his monitor started to beep and the world went dark again.

————

“Good morning sleeping beauty, we’re just getting you prepped for surgery,” he heard a man with an Australian accent say.

”You better not kill me Chase,” House mumbled and Chase stopped.

”You remembered my name,” he said, suddenly.

”So I did, guess my brain’s not bleeding anymore,” he replied.

”Well let’s get your liver fixed then,” Chase told him, before wheeling him off to the OR.

————

When House woke up again he could hear the beeping from various different machines, he opened his eyes, squinting against the bright lights, and looked around the room. He spotted another bed which was holding a sleeping Wilson and smiled to himself as he thought about how his friend had saved his life. After about ten minutes he got bored, he sat up on the edge of his bed and took some shaky steps over to Wilson’s bed.

”Wilson,” He whispered, “Wilson!” He whispered louder, poking the other man in the face.

”What?” Wilson groaned, opening his eyes.

”I’m ordering room service, did you want anything?” He joked. Wilson looked around the room before looking at House.

”From this place? No thanks, I’ve seen the food that they serve.” House laughed at this, sitting on the edge of Wilson’s bed, “you know, you owe me now, I’ve saved your life.”

”And what would I owe you?” House asked.

”Stop taking Vicodin. Go to rehab, get sober and don’t put me into this position again. I’ll just out of organ’s before long,” Wilson replied.

”But the pain is unbearable without it, I just won’t take so many again,” House told him.

”No, you’ll stop taking it all together,” Wilson said, “how about I give you a little incentive.”

”What incentive?” House asked. Wilson sat up on the bed, groaning as he tried to sit forward, “what are you-“ House started, but stopped when Wilson cupped one of his cheeks in his hand, he leant in closer to the oncologist, taking pity on the younger man who was struggling to sit far enough forward. They soon joined in the middle, sharing a slow and passionate kiss, before Wilson backed away.

“We can have something House,” Wilson told him, “but you need to be clean, because I can’t lose you,” House looked into Wilson’s beautiful brown eyes, noticing the tears in them, “I love you,” House felt his breath catch in his throat as Wilson said this, he continued to get lost in the other man’s eyes before he spoke.

”I love you too,” he said, “ok, I’ll do it” he agreed, “I’ll go to rehab,” Wilson took House’s hand in his and smiled at him. House smiled back, imagining what his future would be like once he makes it through rehab and get’s to spend his life with Wilson.

#house md #james wilson #greg house #gregory house #hilson #house x wilson #hate crimes md #eric forman #lisa cuddy #alison cameron #robert chase #remy hadley #chris taub #tw drugs #tw drug overdose #housevember22

[binary-star-lilies]

Day 13: Oceanic.

(pretend this isn’t late)

I originally did a drawing for this day’s prompt, but I was unsatisfied so scrambled to get this done. It’s definitely messy, but I really enjoyed working on it, so I don’t mind. 

Fandom: House M.D

Paring(s): Greg House/James Wilson

Characters: Greg House, James Wilson

Warnings: None

It’s just fluff :).

Oceanic

House walks out into the kitchen yawning and stretching as Wilson looks up. “I thought you’d at least be asleep for another hour” he says and goes back to whatever he was doing, which was  upon further investigation making breakfast.

House grumbles something indistinctly and sits down by the round dining table adjacent to the kitchen. Wilson had picked the place to stay, and it included a view to the ocean from the joint kitchen dining area.

House has always had a complex relationship with water, but even he could admit that the way the sun's rays caress the ocean horizon in the early august morning was quite nice.

“Did you sleep well?” Wilson asks glancing up from the pan and House nods, “I did, except for the fact I woke up in the middle of the night freezing because someone thought it was a good idea to only have one duvet”.

Wilson rolls his eyes and flips the pancake he was frying, “You could just have gotten out of bed to get one before we went to sleep” he notes.

House shakes his head making a clicking noise with his tongue disapprovingly he responds, “I have a bum leg”.

Wilson laughs lightly and says “Then you could have woken me up”.

House pouts sarcastically, standing up he counters, “Maybe I didn’t want you to be all grouchy in the morning, you get that way when you don’t get your beauty sleep”.

Wilson swats Houses hand away from the plate of pancakes, “Admit defeat, you didn’t want to wake me up because you liked the forced proximity by lack of extra bedding”.

House rolls his eyes, “I don’t need an excuse to cuddle”.

Wilson narrows his eyes, “Then why does a convenient one always come up then?”.

House shrugs and Wilson wafts his hand away from the pancakes again. “The mysteries of the universe” House snarks as Wilson pours the last of the pancake batter on the pan.

“Could you maybe set the table instead of standing there like a dog begging for food?” Wilson asks and House scoffs.

“Fine” after House lingers on the word for a suitable amount of time, the kitchen falls silent except for the ambient sounds of ocean waves crashing and cars motors buzzing peacefully outside.

House slides the fancy blue ocean themed placemats that Wilson had cooed over their first night here and stacks plates and cutlery and neatly places them on the table.

Wilson places the pancakes on the table along with maple sirup and chocolate spread, House smiles quietly to himself at the sight of the somewhat mangled blueberry smiley faces in the pancakes.

“I’m glad you appreciate my effort” Wilson says warmly and sits down at the table, House serves Wilson and then himself responding, “Of course I do, I’ve always done so”

Raising a brow Wilsons grabs the chocolate spread and says, “Well you haven’t always made it known”

“Hmmm, I think I have” House retorts, mouth half full.

Wilson chuckles softly and looks out the window at the dark blue light almost turquoise by the sun, “It’s a shame we only have 2 days left”.

Following Wilsons eye line and joining in watching the ocean, House nods, “We can always come back, or vacation somewhere else”

Wilson smiles and looks over to House. “Thank you” he says and House furrows his brows in mild confusion.

Wilson though doesn’t say anything further just goes back to staring at the calm water foaming white as the small waves break against the beach every now and again. There’s such enjoyment in savoring the quiet simple moments of sunrise orange and oceanic blue.

#house md #hilson #my writing #housevember22 #I don't care about this being out of character #I just want them to be happy #This is absolutely a continuation of the last prompts drawing concept #Gregory House #James Wilson

[byneddiedingo]

When a Stranger Calls Back (Fred Walton, 1993)

Cast: Carol Kane, Charles Durning, Jill Schoelen, Gene Lythgow, Kevin McNulty, Cheryl Wilson, Jerry Wasserman. Screenplay: Fred Walton. Cinematography: David Geddes. Production design: Chris August. Film editing: David Byron Lloyd. Music: Dana Kaproff. 

I haven't seen When a Stranger Calls, Fred Walton's 1979 film, but I gather that it helped launch the horror movie trope "the phone call's coming from inside the house!" There are no calls coming from inside or outside the house in Walton's sequel, When a Stranger Calls Back, because the phone line has been cut. (The film was obviously made before the ubiquity of cell phones.) The setup is a standard one for horror movies: A babysitter is terrorized by a mysterious stranger. In this case, Julia (Jill Schoelen) is a high school student called in at the last moment to sit for a couple's two small children, who have already gone to bed by the time she arrives. As she settles in, there's a knock on the door, which she cautiously answers from inside, not unlocking or opening the door. The voice outside explains that his car has broken down and he'd like to use the phone to call for help. She volunteers to make the call herself, and after some back and forth, he reluctantly agrees, giving her the information she needs. But when she goes to the phone, the line is dead. Still wary, she lies to the man outside, claiming that she made the call, but hoping he'll go elsewhere for help. Walton handles this part of the film efficiently and effectively as things gradually escalate until Julia realizes that the man is inside the house. Fortunately, the parents arrive just in time to save her, but they discover that the children are missing from their upstairs bedroom. Then the film falls apart. Five years pass, and Julia is now a college student. Still suffering the effects of the earlier incident, she begins noticing strange things happening in her apartment. The police are dismissive, but they call on a counselor from the college to help. She turns out to be Jill Johnson (Carol Kane), who was the victim in original film. Jill has good reason to trust Julia's instincts and calls in John Clifford (Charles Durning), the detective from her case. But the convergence of the separate experiences of Jill and Julia muddles the narrative, as both women become terrorized by the new bad guy. And then the movie comes to a thuddingly ridiculous end, as Clifford figures out that the guy must be a ventriloquist. As any 10-year-old kid who has ever tried it knows, ventriloquists rely on visual misdirection: moving the dummy's mouth while keeping theirs nearly motionless. They can't really "throw" their voices, as the movie suggests the guy outside Julia's door did. When a Stranger Calls Back was made for television and first appeared on Showtime, then was released on video. Despite some creepy moments, I suspect that it would have been laughed out of theaters. 

#When a Stranger Calls Back #Fred Walton

[whiskeyncoke-redux]

Brown Skin

Sam Wilson X Reader

*a/n: I’m reposting some of my fics here. Hopefully I’ll be writing more soon.

Summary: Reader is entranced by Sammy’s beautiful brown skin.

Warnings: Smut/Daddy Kink. 18+ ONLY, Minors DNI

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rich.

That was the best word to describe it, you thought. Rich and smooth. Incredibly so.

How many times had you dreamed of running your hands over it? To feel the smoothness under your palm. To tease the dips and curves with your lips and tongue. You wanted so badly to feel the juxtaposition of hard muscle under soft skin against your body as he moved with you. To be tangled, limb with limb, until you didn’t know where your body ended and his began. To lazily trace lines on it, letting your fingertips lightly dance against it, as he held you close.

You sighed quietly, watching Sam glide through the water of the lake, as you sat in the shade of a tree on the bank. You all had retreated out here in an attempt to fight off some of the sweltering heat of the July day. You needed to get out of the house. The air conditioning was broken and the fans were only blowing back warm air. Bucky had suggested a swim, and you all had readily agreed, grabbing towels and donning your bathing suits.

“You’re staring again,” you heard Bucky’s voice in your ear, a light laugh surrounding his words.

You turned your head to look at him, a shy smile on your face. “Was it that obvious?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners.

You shrugged. “I just… he looks good. I couldn’t help it.”

“Well,” Bucky said, nodding towards his friend who had just gotten out of the water. “I say tell him.”

You felt your breath hitch in your throat when you realized that he was coming over towards you. The light from the sun catching the droplets of water that glistened against his rich, brown skin. You couldn’t help it when your tongue came out to lick your lips, your mind occupied with illicit thoughts; mostly of licking him dry.

This wasn’t the first time you’d had thoughts like this about Sam. The first happened a month ago. He had just come back from a run. You had seen him, sitting on the steps, catching his breath, the evening light making his skin shine. You had stopped in your tracks and stood there dumbfounded and staring as you watched the sweat drip from his body.

When he stood up, stretching, your eyes traveled from his broad shoulders to his arms and the cords of muscle that stood out in them, sliding down to take in how his shirt clung to him and the outline of his slim waist, and further down to his thick thighs and strong legs. When he had turned to walk up the steps to the house, you couldn’t help but stare at his ass, round and firm. At that moment you had been glad that no one had heard the small whimper that had escaped your lips.

How had you never noticed him like this before, was a mystery to you. But since that day, you couldn’t do anything but notice him. Especially how beautiful his skin was. Unmarked and unblemished, impossibly smooth. All you wanted to do was run your hands over it, preferably while he was inside you.

You heard Bucky chuckle, but it sounded far off; your thoughts were firmly planted on the man who now stood in front of you.

“What are y’all talking about?” Sam asked the two of you, crossing his arms across his chest, making his biceps bulge out.

Fuck, that made your mouth water and your pussy throb.

“Oh, just how Y/N was staring at you,” Bucky said, laughing.

“Really?” he asked, looking at you, the sun catching his brown eyes, a smile growing on his lips.

Oh, how you wanted to feel those lips on yours…

“No,” you lied quickly, looking away.

But Sam didn’t buy it, he’d seen the way you’d looked at him before. How you would stare at him after he’d come back from runs. He’d also noticed how you had been staring at him since he walked out in his swim trunks. He had felt your eyes follow almost his every movement as he swam in the lake. And he’d seen how you had licked your lips as he walked towards you.

He knew you wanted him.

You squinted out over the lake, determined not to look at him, but you could feel his eyes on you, raking up and down your body.

You cleared your throat and announced, “I’m going inside to lay down.” Before getting up, still determinedly not making eye contact with Bucky who was laughing quietly or Sam who was smirking, and walking up towards the house.

When you were out of earshot, Bucky turned to Sam and said simply, “She wants you, man.”

“I know,” he nodded.

“Sooo….”

He sighed, “So, and I cannot believe I’m saying this, but, go keep Sarah distracted.”

Bucky grinned, and jogged off to find his friend’s sister without a glance back. Sam shook his head after him, then turned his eyes towards the house, knowing you would be in there alone.

———

You had your head stuck in the refrigerator, looking for something cool to drink. He walked in, closing the door quietly behind him. You didn’t hear him come in, so when you turned and saw him standing there, you let out a squeak of surprise that made him chuckle and made you spill some of the water in your glass down your front.

“What are you doing in here?” you asked.

“What, I can’t come in my sister’s house?”

You rolled your eyes, “Smart ass.”

“I thought you were going to lay down?”

You held up your glass of water. “Got thirsty.”

“Hmmm,” he hummed, looking you up and down, making you feel hot all over.

You drank your water, trying to hide your nervousness. When you finished, you went to wash the glass out in the sink. He walked up behind you as you were rinsing the glass. When you reached over to put it in the dish rack, he reached out and put his hands on your waist, pulling you towards him.

“So,” he finally said in your ear, making you shiver. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me.”

At his touch, you closed your eyes, feeling your pussy clench. He had just barely touched you and your body was already responding to him like this. Your brain emptied of all thought except to focus on the feel of his hands, hot against your skin, your back pressed against him, and the thin layer of fabrics that separated the two of you.

“Oh,” you breathed out.

“Yeah,” he answered, turning you around to face him. He leaned his forehead against yours. “So, I got Bucky to keep Sarah distracted.”

“You sure that’s a good idea?”

“No, but I have other plans.”

You were about to open your mouth to ask what those plans were, when you felt his lips press against yours, softly at first, but then with more force. You felt your arms go around his neck, as he pulled you flush against him. The only thought that crossed your mind was how his lips were so firm. You sucked his bottom lip between your lips. When you parted your lips to let his tongue slip in your mouth, you let out a low moan. When he pulled away from you, you whined softly.

He laughed, before kissing you again. This time you felt his hands slide down to your thighs. He lifted you up easily, and you wrapped your legs around his waist. He carried you back into his room, shutting the door with his foot. When he set you down, you pulled him towards you.  

His hands went back to your body, sliding up and down your waist, before he wrapped his arms around you again and pulled you against him. His hands going down to palm your ass. You kissed him again, this time trailing your lips from his, to his jaw. You stopped to slide your tongue around the shell of his ear, then kissed him on his neck; licking and biting the firm skin there. You heard him draw in a sharp breath at that, before smacking you on your ass, making you yelp.

You stepped back and looked at him. You were glad that the room was positioned where it was. The sun was filtering through the open curtains onto his body, the light playing off the brown in his skin. It was so beautiful. You traced your hands down his pecs, to his toned stomach. His skin was as smooth and as soft as you had imagined. You sighed softly. You lowered your head, kissing him on his chest before your tongue came out to trace along where your lips had been, circling one nipple, over to the other. You bent a bit so you could move further down, your tongue continuing its journey down his body.

When you reached the top of his shorts, you wasted no time pulling them down and off, freeing his hard cock. You took it in your hand stroking it a bit, making him hiss. You smiled, before moving down lower, licking and kissing down his muscular thighs. You slowly made your way back up until you reached the base of his cock. You licked the underside of it, before circling your tongue around the head. You lowered your head, taking as much of him in that you could, before you started working your mouth on it. Your hands grasped the skin of his thighs before circling around to his ass. You grabbed onto it, pushing him further in your mouth, until you gagged. You felt his hands go to your head, holding it still as he fucked himself into your mouth.

You heard his curses mixed with praise as he continued to snap his hips into your face. “Shit, so good,” he groaned. “Fuck, so sexy. Letting daddy fuck your face like this.”

“Mmmmhmmm,” you hummed around his cock, as you felt spit slip from the corners of your mouth.

“Goddamn, shit, shit,” he cursed as he pulled back, slipping from your mouth, a line of saliva trailing from his dick.

You sat back on your knees looking at him as he breathed hard, a small smile on your face. He pulled you up and crashed his lips into yours, your tongues sliding against each other again. He made quick work of your bathing suit, removing the top, and untying the bottoms.

You felt his hand slide down between your thighs; a finger delving into your slick folds.

“Already so wet,” he said as he added another finger, making you gasp. “Did sucking daddy’s dick make you this wet?”

You nodded, unable to speak as you felt the pad of his thumb circle your clit erasing the thoughts from your head.

“Use your words baby.”

“Y-yes, daddy,” you stammered.

“Good,” he said, taking his finger from you before commanding, “Lay back on the bed. Legs open.”

You got on the bed, and spread your legs. He looked down at you, exposed and soaking wet for him and grinned. He knelt between your legs, kissing up your thighs. He took one and placed it on his shoulder, then lowered his head and licked a stripe up your pussy lips. You moaned. He slipped his tongue inside you, his nose rubbing against your clit.

You bucked your hips as he slid his two fingers back inside you.

“Hmm let’s see… ah,” he grinned as he curled his fingers against the sensitive spot inside you that made you arch up off the bed. He wrapped his lips around your clit, making your toes curl.

“Fuck, daddy,” you groaned.

“Mmm,” he hummed before raising his head. “You gonna cum for daddy?”

“Yes, yes, don’t stop! Please, daddy, right there!”

He lowered his head again, and sucking harder until, with a shout, you gushed over his fingers.

He lowered your leg, and started kissing up your body.

“You taste so good, baby,” he said, kissing your neck, before placing his two fingers on your lips. “Here.”

You opened your mouth and sucked them both in, tasting yourself while looking him in his eyes. You saw them darken, and you wrapped your legs around his waist wanting to push him in.

“Impatient,” he said, teasing your pussy with the head of his cock. “How bad have you been wanting me to fuck you? Hmm?”

“So bad, daddy.”

“Really now?” he said, moving his hips, rubbing his cock against you, getting it wet.

“Couldn’t help it,” you said running your hands up and down his arms, squeezing on the biceps. “You look so good,” you told him, bucking your hips.

He chuckled, looking down at you. “All you had to do was ask.”

You looked him in his eyes and said, with all seriousness, “Fuck me. Please, daddy? I need you to fuck me.”

“Shit, baby,” he said, grabbing his cock and lining it up, pushing inside you.

You let out a sigh as you felt him stretch you until he was sheathed completely inside you. He sat inside you, feeling the warmth of you surrounding him. You were so wet, so tight, he had never imagined you’d feel this good. He felt you clench around him and he started to move inside you. The feel of your velvety walls making him groan.

As your bodies moved together, you slid your hands up and down his back, feeling the muscles ripple underneath his skin. Your hands slid up his arms, until your fingers laced with his. He stroked you deep and slow, making you feel every inch of him. All you could do was murmur his name and “daddy” over and over as you felt him move inside you. Each drag of his cock bringing you pure ecstasy.

He rolled over so you were on top. Then, wrapping one arm around you, he slid off the bed, still inside you. He made his way over to a desk on the other side of the room. He placed you on it, lifting one leg in his arm, and started moving inside you again. You clenched around him as he angled his hips to hit that sweet spot inside you.

You threw your head back against the wall, as his lips latched onto your neck. Your moans and his grunts filling the room along with the sound of skin slapping against skin and the desk bumping against the wall.

“Feel so good around me, baby,” he groaned. “Fuck. This is my pussy now.”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Mmm, say it. I wanna hear you say it,” he said thrusting into you harder. “Say. It. For. Me.”

“Shit, it’s your pussy, daddy,” you moaned. “It’s all yours.”

He bought his lips back to yours in a sloppy kiss. He rubbed the pad of his thumb against your clit and you felt yourself get closer to your orgasm, that coil tightening in your belly.

“Cum for me, baby,” he said. “I know you’re close, cum for daddy. Let daddy feel you cum around him.”

You felt heat spread from your belly as you felt that coil inside you break, your release coming in a gush. You let out a loud moan, as you came harder than you had before.

“That’s my girl,” Sam groaned. “So sexy.”

He kept moving inside you as you rode out your orgasm. He slipped out of you and sat back on the bed, pulling you with him. You climbed on top of him, sliding down. He cupped your cheek with one hand, “You got another one in you for me?”

You nodded. “Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl,” he said, his hands sliding down to your hips, helping you move on top of him.

When you got your rhythm, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to him. Your clit, already sensitive from two orgasms, rubbing against his body. You held onto his shoulders; your foreheads together, your eyes locked on each other. You felt yourself get lost in his gaze, as his cock rubbed against your g-spot. You closed your eyes at how good he felt inside you. Your pussy throbbed around him, another orgasm building. Stars popped behind your eyelids as you felt yourself cum again. Feeling you cum around him again, brought him closer to the edge.  

“Fuck, baby, I’m close,” he moaned, starting to raise you off of him.

You shook your head, squeezing your pussy around him, “Stay in me,” you told him. “I want it in me. Please, daddy.”

Hearing that finally tipped him over the edge. With a grunt he came, twitching and spilling inside you.

You both sat there, him still inside you, as you caught your breath. His head resting on your shoulder. Soon he shifted so you both were laying on the bed. Your legs around him, his arms around you. He rubbed his hands up and down your back as you traced your fingers up and down his arms, chest, and stomach. You’d never get over how beautiful his skin was, even slick with sweat, you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off of him.

You gazed into his eyes, as the setting sun reflected off the brown in them. You cupped his cheek in your hand, rubbing your thumb across his jaw. He grabbed your hand, interlacing your fingers with his, and raising your hand up to his lips. You smiled and did the same to his, before kissing him again deeply. Without breaking the kiss, he rolled on top of you, his arms on either side of you, and you could feel him, still inside you, getting hard again.

You gazed up at him, the last rays of light making his skin glow. You sighed deeply, wrapping your legs around him as you started to move together again.

#sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson smut #sam wilson fic #sam wilson fanfiction #sam wilson x you #sam wilson x y/n #marvel fanfiction #marvel reader insert #reader insert #Anthony Mackie #captain america #cap #whiskey writes

[itsapeterthing]

Old Habits Die Hard || Shang-Chi, Bucky Barnes

pairings: xu shang-chi x avenger!reader, ex!bucky barnes x avenger!reader

summary: when an unknown group of people go after what’s left of the avengers, you and your boyfriend shang-chi must flee to the avengers’ safe house leading to confessions about your past relationship with a certain super soldier

a/n: replies and reblogs are super appreciated!

word count: 3.2k

warnings: angst, mentions of getting attacked, starting a family, break ups

masterlist || request || taglist

“Shang-Chi?”

“Yeah?” Your boyfriend called from the passenger seat as he slipped the ten rings onto his arms.

You gripped the backs of his and Katy’s seat as a blast sent from the car chasing you shook the vehicle.

“I have something I need to tell you.”

You watched as your boyfriend hung half of his body out of the passenger side window as Katy continued speeding down the highway, dodging vehicles along the way. Lining up his arm with the car behind you, Shang-Chi sent off a a blast that narrowly missed the people following you, instead a part of the road exploding with it- rubble hitting your car.

“Shit!” Shang-Chi, cursed. “Can it wait, Y/n? Kind of in the middle of something!”

Watching the GPS that Katy was following quickly get closer to your destination, you shook your head.

“Look, those people aren’t just coming after the two of us,” You said. “They’re coming after all of us, Shang-Chi. So what I’m saying is that we probably won’t be the only people at the safe house when we get there.”

The car shaking beneath you once again, Katy’s eyes met yours in the rear view mirror.

“Would’ve been nice to know that I was meeting the Avengers before I came to pick you guys up in my pajamas!” She shouted over the commotion.

“Sorry that I didn’t really plan on getting attacked at my anniversary dinner!” Shang-Chi yelled back at his friend as he shot another blast.

“Shang-Chi I need to tell you before we get there!” You shouted once more,

As another explosion from the car behind you shook the vehicle, you watched as your boyfriend’s hand that had been holding him inside the car slipped, but before he could fall out the window, you reached over the passenger seat and held his legs as the wind continued to whip against his hair.

“Just tell me later-“

“The Winter Soldier and I used to date!” You confessed.

As soon as the words slipped from your mouth you watched as another blast came from rings, this time hitting the vehicle behind you dead on, it rolling to over the guardrails and into the ravine below.

Instead of applauding the fact that you had finally lost the men that had been following you, Shang-Chi, who was still hanging out the window, whipped his head back around at you and stared at you with wide eyes.

“What?!” He shouted.

Suddenly finding yourself at a loss for words, you bit the inside of your cheek and pulled your boyfriend back inside the car, falling into the backseat as you did.

“Don’t just tell me that you used to date the fucking Winter Soldier and not follow up with that, Y/n.” Shang-Chi said, glancing over the passenger seat. “We’ve been dating for six months-”

“Uh guys,” Katy interrupted, as she turned the corner and pulled into a long, dirt driveway hidden between the trees. “We’re here.”

The three of you sat in silence as Katy pulled up the car besides a familiar white pickup truck and threw it into park.

“Did someone beat us here?” Katy asked as you all climbed out of the car.

Struggling to walk on the wet dirt in your heels, you shook your head as you found the cellar door and wrapped your hands around its handles.

“That’s Sam’s truck.” You said nonchalantly as you heard the lock inside the door click with the recognition of your fingerprints.

“Sam? As in Sam Wilson Sam?” Katy asked, glancing between you and a still shocked and displeased Shang-Chi. “As in Captain America Sam Wilson?”

Pulling open the heavy doors, you grabbed the handrails and steadied yourself as you climbed down the steps.

“That’s the one.” You assured her. “Now follow me and shut the door behind you.”

Heeding your words, your two companions followed you as you descended beneath the ground, climbing down the steps carefully before you reached a locked double door with a fingerprint scanner. Pressing your hand against the screen, the locks clicked in front of you.

“Welcome Y/n.” You heard F.R.I.D.A.Y announce as the double doors automatically opened in front of the three of you. “Sergeant Barnes and Captain Wilson are waiting for you in the common room.”

As the doors opened in front of the three of you, it revealed a gorgeous, large, contemporary style common room complete with an open kitchen and living area.

“Wow.” Katy said in awe. “When you said ‘safe house’ I was expecting a cabin- not this. This is better than my apartment!”

As the doors opened completely, your eyes set on the two Avengers who were already there waiting for you. Upon seeing you, the two men stood up from the couch and you tried your hardest to keep your sight trained on anything but a certain super soldier.

“Long time no see.” Sam said smiling, walking up to you with open arms.

Not being able to help the smile on your face despite being involved in a car chase seconds before, you wrapped your own arms around Sam’s torso, patting him on the back.

“I wish we were seeing each other again under better circumstances.” You confessed, pulling away.

“I know,” He agreed before gesturing back at Bucky who was standing beside him. “Thank God I was visiting tin man over here, though, because I don’t think I’d be able to handle those guys myself.”

You felt as though the world stopped spinning around you for a moment as you set your eyes on the man you hadn’t seen since the day the two of you broke apart nearly eight months ago. Even after all that time, you could still read him like a book and you knew the same exact thoughts were going through his head as yours as the tension in the room felt thick enough to cut with a knife.

You straightened as you watched his eyes slowly trail down your body that was still adorned in your floor length dress and heels you had worn for your anniversary dinner earlier that evening before running back up your form to meet your eyes.

“It’s good to see you, Y/n.” He said. “You look good.”

You hated how you found yourself at a loss for words, eyes locked on his until you felt your boyfriend’s hand resting on your back, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” You said chuckling nervously. “Sam, Buck- this is my boyfriend Shang-Chi and our friend Katy.”

You were sure both you and Sam noticed the way Bucky shifted as he heard you introduce your new boyfriend.

“It’s nice to meet you, man.” Shang-Chi said reaching out his hand to shake your ex’s.

You glanced between your boyfriend’s waiting hand and Bucky’s, praying that your ex wouldn’t make this night worse for you than it already was. As if some savior above had heard your prayers, Bucky cleared his throat and shook Shang-Chi’s hand.

“You too.” He said bluntly before pulling his hand away.

Trying your best to clear the tension in the room, you pat your boyfriend on the shoulder and turned to the group of people surrounding you.

“I think we should call if a night for now.” You said, glancing between them all. “I sent out an alert to everyone else on the team about what was going on, but we can talk about it more and make a plan in the morning. Get some rest, okay?”

Watching as they nodded along with everything you said, you smiled softly before guiding Shang-Chi and Katy out of the main room and into a hallway off of the common area. At the first door you opened it, informing Katy it would be her room for the night and after her complimenting you on how “fancy” it was, you lead you and your boyfriend down to the bedroom at the end of the hall- yours.

Shutting the door behind you, you seated yourself on the edge of the bed and began undoing the strap of your heels. As you looked up and saw your boyfriend only staring at you and standing by the door, you sighed.

“If you want to sleep in separate rooms tonight,” You said, slipping off your heels. “I get it. There’s an open room right next to mine that you can have.”

Crossing his arms, Shang-Chi shrugged.

“I don’t know,” He said practically glaring at you. “Did you and ‘Buck’ used to share that bed?”

You understood why he was upset- it was completely reasonable for him to be angry about the fact that you had never brought up the fact that you had dated one of your fellow Avengers before meeting him, but you were worried about telling him.

When the two of you met, everything fell into place. The two of you were on the same page about everything including the future- which was more than you could say for you and your ex’s relationship. You wanted things to stay they were and so you put off the inevitable bombshell of letting him know that you and the Winter Soldier used to be an item.

Ever since your breakup, Bucky hadn’t spoken one word to you- any message you needing to relay having to pass through Sam. You knew it wasn’t out of anger but out of needing to distance yourselves from one another. A part of you would always have a place in your heart for Bucky, but in the case of your relationship- sometimes love wasn’t enough.

Despite how understanding you were about the situation, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at your boyfriend’s words.

“Shang-Chi,” You sighed.

“Oh my god!” He practically shouted. “You did didn’t you?”

“Shang-Chi you’re being a baby!” You argued, gesturing at the bed. “He and I haven’t been here in like a year and these are new sheets anyway. Just sit down-“

“Oh so I’m the crazy one?” He asked, throwing his hands in the air. “Sorry if I don’t want to sleep in the same bed you used to share with a one hundred year old man!”

You tried your best to stay calm, but as you felt anger bubbling up inside of you, you shoved yourself off of the bed and pointed an accusatory finger in his chest.

“Look,” You said, staring up at him. “I know I fucked up by not telling you and I’m sorry for that, but give me a break. When I met you, Buck and I had just broken up, but with you it was like everything fell into place. It was fresh and new and I didn’t want to ruin it all by telling you that I was almost engaged like a month before we went on our first date.”

Feeling tears well up in your eyes as you dug up the emotions and memories you had tried so hard to shove down eight months before, you stumbled backwards from your boyfriend and sat yourself on the edge of the bed.

Despite the feeling of his heart sinking at the sight of you in pain, tears cascading down your cheeks as you stared down at your hands, Shang-Chi stood feet away from you, still trying to comprehend everything he was learning for the first time and dealing with the feelings of betrayal that came along with it.

“Why… why did you break up?”

You thought back to the first time you had met Bucky after he came back from the blip all the way to the last time you saw him- when it almost physically pained you to tear yourself away from him but you knew neither of you could make each other happy- at least not then.

You remembered the way he used to smile as he held you in his hands, the look the two of you shared when in the middle of a battle and you could understand what the other was thinking without saying a single word, and finally... the way the two of you used to fight over the future.

No matter how much you cared, no matter how much you loved about him it always came down to that.

“We were on different pages.” You said, wiping tears from your cheeks with the back of your hands. “After a while he wanted to settle down- get married, get a house- leave the past in the past. But I… I wasn’t naive enough to think that the fighting would be over, you know?

“I knew there was always going to be something else and I wasn’t ready to pack up and let the world handle it on their own. When Nat died she left me in charge of taking care of everybody. I was rebuilding the Avengers Compound, I was having daily meetings with people from different planets… but he wanted us to move on from that and honestly? I wasn’t ready. Obviously there uh…” You laughed dryly in between sniffles. “There’s a bit of an age gap and I felt like my life was just starting, but after so much time fighting and everything he’d gone though he just wanted peace. It’s nobody’s fault but I knew we could never be happy as long as we were on such different pages so we… we ending things… and here we are now.”

It pained Shang-Chi to learn that you had such a rich romantic history with anyone besides him- especially a man from legend- but he could also understand why you never brought it up. He never asked you about your past relationships because he understood how sometimes it’s easier to keep the things that hurt us behind us and as he listened to your story he could understand why you wouldn’t want to dig up those old wounds.

Watching you slouched over on the bed, head in your hands, Shang-Chi felt a pang in his chest and before he even realized what he was doing he was striding over to you and seating himself beside you on the bed.

You looked up in surprise when you felt small circles being rubbed into your back by your boyfriend.

“I can understand why you kept it in the past,” Shang-Chi said, gazing down at you. “As long as it stays in the past.”

Glancing up at your boyfriend, you finally allowed yourself to study his own features and your breath caught in your throat as you realized that he wasn’t mad at you, but worried.

“No, no, no baby,” You said shaking your head and resting your hands against his white button-down. “It’s not like that. It’s you. I want you. The world makes sense with you, okay? Buck and I are over.”

Searching in your eyes for sincerity and finding it, he asked.

“Promise?”

Without waiting a heartbeat, you nodded and reaching for his hand, squeezed it tightly.

“I promise.”

-

Later that night after your boyfriend had fallen asleep, you padded down the hallway and into the kitchen in search of a glass of water when you turned on the light switch only to find Bucky sitting at the island, nursing the beer in his hand.

“Shit!” You cursed, squinting your eyes as they adjusted to the newfound light. “God, Buck, why are you just sitting here in the dark?”

Bucky’s eyes landed on your figure standing in the doorway, dressed in the white button down shirt that Shang-Chi had been wearing earlier that evening.

Rather than commenting on it, Bucky just shrugged.

“Couldn’t sleep.” He said. “You know I always had a hard time sleeping when you weren’t there.”

You felt your cheeks grow warm as Bucky reminded you of the past you had shared together, but rather than taking the bait, you turned your back to him and grabbed a glass from the cabinet.

“So Sam said he was visiting you up here.” You said, turning back around and pouring yourself a glass of water at the island. “What happened to the house that was for sale down South?”

Bucky shook his head.

“Didn’t buy it.”

You remembered the day the two of you ran into the house during a drive- spotting the “For Sale” sign perched on the front lawn. You remembered the look on Bucky’s face as you toured the house and the way he looked at you that night as he held you in bed, telling you all about how he could just imagine the two of you living happily there for the rest of your days.

“Why not?” You asked, taking a sip of your water.

Bucky shrugged once more before taking another swig from the bottle in his hand.

“Changed my mind.”

Checking the time on the clock sitting on one of the nearby shelves, you took one last sip of your water before placing it in the sink.

“Have a good night, Buck-”

“You were right.” Bucky interrupted, pushing himself up from the stool as he watched you walk away.

Stopping in your tracks, you turned around.

“Right about what?” You asked.

Bucky thought back to when the men stormed into his apartment- after both him and Sam. Once he had escaped immediate danger, he remember his first thought being you- fearing the same men would come after you. He knew you were strong, but how strong? What if they knew every move before you made it?

What if they got to you before he did?

“That this stuff wouldn’t just stop following us because we wanted it to.” He said. “I realized it after you left, but... by the time I did... I saw you at some coffee shop with him. I’m different now, Y/n-”

“Buck-” You sighed, shaking your head.

It didn’t deter him as Bucky strode over to you, gripping your upper arms in his hands.

“I made a mistake, doll.” He pleaded. “I’ve changed my mind-”

“Buck!” You exclaimed, nudging his hands off of you and backing away from him. “I’m with Shang-Chi now, okay? It’s over between us.”

Watching as you backed away from him and into the hallway that led to your bedroom, he felt his heart sink in his chest as he watched you put your hands out in front of you to keep space between the you both.

"Y/n,” He said your name dejectedly.

Trying your hardest not to let it phase you, however, you shook your head.

“It’s over, Buck.” You said. “It’s over.”

Bucky watched as you turned your back to him, making your way back to the bedroom you were now sharing with another man and slammed the door behind you. As he stood there, air knocked out of his body after being rejected by the only woman he had ever loved, Bucky swore to himself that he was going to find a way to make up for the past and remind you that he was the only one for you.

On the other side of the door, however, Shang-Chi smiled to himself as he felt your body slip into bed behind him, your arms wrapping around his torso as your head found its place in the crook of his neck.

“I love you.” You whispered.

Pulling the sheets tighter around the both of you, he smiled.

“I know.”

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #shang-chi x reader #shang chi x reader #shang chi #Shang-chi #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #shang chi one shot #shang chi imagine

[starshipsofstarlord]

Not on my boat

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary | whilst helping Sam fix his boat, during the midst of its progression, Bucky corners you within the old Wilson heirloom, leaving your friend and future captain, rather disgusted in the both of you.

Warnings | tfatws spoilers, mentions of death, some angst, smut, oral (male and female receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, bit of choking, swearing

Requested ✖️

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

Hearing the waves crash against the side of the boat brought a smile upon your face, as you felt the breeze brush against your face. It was peaceful, fixing something rather than leaving it broken in order to save lives. If you weren’t swarmed with the government on your tail about how you were not allowed to use your powers, you’d be living out a free and happy life with the man you loved.

You were enduring a break from your assistance on the old Wilson vessel, your legs plodded around its platform, as you surveyed every piece that was in progress. Soon it would be in tip top shape, and when Sam and Bucky’s relationship was on par with that, that was when the two of you had planned to leave. There were plenty of things the two of you had to make up for before you could reside in peace; one of those things was that list of his.

It was a ledger of the amends that he had to make, a reminder of all the lives that had either taunted his own, or he had stolen from whilst he was not himself. James did not deserve the grievance that he was pardoned with, he was struggling, that much was clear. He had lost Steve, and then he was forced to watch as the shield had been handed off to some wanna be cap. To say he had been furious at Sam was a deep understatement, but as said, he was making amends.

Sam was a good man, you had learnt that much from the time that you had spent avenging to him. You had yet to tell him, but you weren’t planning on going back to that life after Karli was stopped, you wanted to continue working in the small shot bar slash grill, where Bucky and Youri would visit during your hours for lunch, and remain in that partition of worlds. Having Bucky and normalcy was a fine balance, which was a deep seated structure that you deeply needed.

If you did not have that then you were sure you’d explode, and hurt someone, or break something. That was no longer your duty, the fighting that you had spent most of your life giving into was coming to an end, and you were more than fine with that. A civilian life sounded good enough, and something that you could definitely settle for, though, you weren’t sure that Bucky would do the same, you hoped that he would.

That gleam in his eye was far too noticeable every time that he looked at that star striped shield. It had brought him much pain, but it had been there in the corner of his sight everywhere he had went. And now, Sam Wilson, the man that his best friend had entrusted with it, finally accepted the mantle, holding it in his firm grasp, ready to become the next captain to walk the earth, and both you and him knew that he would do far better than Walker could.

He was already a hero, he’d been fighting the Sam foes as Steve for some time, that was enough to know that he was ready. His hesitancy had been understandable, more so after listening to Isiah, though, it was nice to see Sam take his own path on this one. There were pictures of his younger self assembled upon the wooden walls, he was with his sister Sarah. She seemed like a nice woman, a part of you wished that you get to know her better, but she wasn’t a buyer into the whole superhero get advantages agenda, and nor were you.

From what you could tell, Sam had his advantage right here; his family. Sarah was supportive of him, always aiding him necessary, whilst she simultaneously raised to young boys, that looked admirably up to their uncle, and feeding the kids that they went to school with because their parents had no intention to. If you could, you’d buy a replica of her life, her head was above water, although the boat almost wasn’t.

The boat. It was an heirloom, something that you did not have of your own family. Everyone was gone, the only person you had was Bucky, and thinking of him caused a light chuckle to fall from your lips, he made you endlessly happy. But neither of you could have the picture perfect life, and that was why the pair of you worked, you were each well aware of the restrictions that taunted you both, and had both been down dark roads on more than one occasion.

Things were turning brighter though, as the sun glared through the old glass, casting luminosity to stroke the high points of your face. A gently creak had your head diverting to the door way, where no other than James Barnes was leant up against, his metal arm pressed to the frame as he adoringly swept his oceanic pools over your form, slowly stepping closer.

“What are you thinking about doll?” He asked you, his tone genuine, as you sighed from his words, rubbing your eyelid as you felt a small itch. You puffed your cheeks, as you placed your hands on the super soldier’s waist, rubbing small and vigilant circles through his grey shirt.

“Too much.” It was an honest answer, everything was rattling around like pins in your mind, sinking in and letting loose to their own will. They could not be organised, they would only tumble about again, until the box was empty, though, for now, you had nowhere else to put them.

“Sarah said we could spend the night.” At his words, you hummed, taking note once more of how generous the woman indeed was. “We get the couch, so you best be on your best behaviour baby girl, nothing dirty goes on inside.” A small smirk crept its way onto his handsome face as you gasped at his spoken intention, lightly hitting the vibranium of his arm.

“Why do you blame me for not keeping it in my pants?” You interrogated him, glaring up at the man with a furrow between your brows. “You’re the one that corners me, a lot like this actually, so that you can get your own way and fuck m- oh, that’s exactly what you’re doing now, isn’t it?” You scoffed, crossing your arms and stepping away due to the man’s hormonal impulses. “Why am in not surprised?” You asked yourself, shaking your head at the behaviour of your partner.

“Hey, I’m doing us both a favour. Sex in someone else’s house is not exactly appreciated, and there’s kids, that i would rather not risk getting caught by.” He moved towards you, grabbing an ass cheek in each hand, as he pulled you closer by his grip. “At least then, there’s a chance I can survive the night, without being woken up by you sucking me off, or riding me.”

He was pushing your buttons, and he far well knew that, almost too well. It was his technique to get you riled up, that way, there’d be no dismissal of his current proposal, though, you continued to wear that adorable frown that he loved so much, and so, he gave your ass another firm squeeze, causing you to gasp against his chest. “Fucking on their dead parents’ boat isn’t exactly respectful either.”

“We’re helping fix it, may as well take our break on board, let loose a little, release all that’s clouding your mind.” He shrugged, knowing that his words were tempting you into complying with his lustrous whim, and so, to put another step in to helping his cause, he stepped back, reaching behind him to pull his shirt over the back of his neck, leaving his muscular torso bare, and free for your eyes to roam.

“That’s not fair.” You whined at him, not stopping yourself as you moved closer, and smoothed your hands down his stomach. “You’re such a tease Barnes, why couldn’t you have just fingered me in the public bathroom and waited until tomorrow?” A groan slipped from your mouth, as you peppered kisses over his warm flesh, tasting the sweat on his skin as your tongue swiped over the ridges of his six pack.

“Where would the fun have been in that?” He watched you roll your eyes, but continue to work your way down to his navel, stroking his v line with your fingertips. “We’ve had sex on a plane, might as well add a boat to the list.” Bucky remarked, groaning as you put your weight down onto your knees, looking up at him with your pretty eyes, as you palmed him through the denim of his jeans.

He could feel his cock stirring beneath the material, wanting more, eager to breach the layers that were keeping your tongue from rotating around him. But he remained still, as you swept your hair out from your face, the noise of your pulling down his zipper audible, as you sent him a naughty grin. The man above you licked his lips, breathing a sigh of relief when you tugged his jeans and boxers down, his erection swiftly bouncing up, the leaking tip pointing rudely at your face.

With a quick hand, you grasped his length, rubbing over his veins as you pumped him, spreading the moisture of his precum over his rigid skin, aiding you in your movements. As you proceeded to jerk him within your grip, your mouth moved forwards, your breath fanning over his balls before your tongue slipped out to stroke them, swiping up the droopy skin, as you suckled one into your mouth, contently moaning from the flavour of his skin.

Your eyes had shut as Bucky opened his own, watching you through a hooded gaze as you happily assisted his genitals, sending him into a crusade of pleasure as you used your well adversed skill set upon him. Your bottom lip ran up his shaft, slowly dragging along his reddened skin, until your reached the tip, your hands fleeing down to fondle with his sack, as your mouth stuffed itself full of his cock.

“Baby girl.” He breathed, his chest feeling tight as he stood there, practically naked aboard your friend’s boat. James gritted his teeth, watching as you effortlessly bobbed your head up and down half of him, lazily grinning as gagging sounds eventually emitted from your throat as you had him down the back of your throat, saliva slipping down your chin as you shook your head from side to side with him choking you with his dick.

Though he worried not for your struggle, not as you moaned against him, your lashes fluttering though your eyes were shut. He reached his vibranium hand down, stroking the side of your face with the cool metal, a high whine whistling it’s way out of your nose. Your spare hand reached up, cupping it against you, as you hollowed your cheeks, steadily breathing your nostrils.

A light frown covered your face as you focused on smoothing your tongue on his underside, causing Bucky to throw back his head, his stomach sternly clenching as he felt his balls twitch; and then, before he could fathom it, he was filling your mouth, cumming down your throat, as he pulled out, the last of his seed falling upon your tongue as he manhandled himself, feeling sensitive as he watched you fumble your tongue around your mouth, swallowing the mix of your spittle and his cum.

“Taste so fucking good.” You spoke, laughing lightly as you stared up and saw his dazed expression. Bucky pulled you up, his hand cupping your ass again, as he backed you up against the dash, your back lightly hitting against the window as he pulled at your shorts, whisking then down your legs, rubbing you through your underwear. His tongue explored your mouth, tasting himself as he located your clit, your arms grabbing at his shoulders to push him down, to which he complied.

His noises echoed through your mouth, as he pressed kissed along the top of your thighs, his fingers surpassing the seams of your panties, swiping at your entrance, until his prodding ceased, and he sunk his middle finger into your pussy, feeling you clench around him instantaneously. His teeth bit into your skin, emitting a squeal out of you as you harshly tugged his hair, making him rut his loose cock against nothing but the air.

“So wet.” He mumbled against your skin, as his vibranium snapped the sides of your underwear, letting the damp material fall to the floor, as he licked circles around your clit with his tongue, pulley airy sounds of pleasure of of your lungs. He slipped in another finger, his nose being pressed against your mound as you tugged him even closer, feeling as though you were almost there. Then you came, his fingers quickly exiting you as his tongue plunged in your entrance, cleaning up all your juices.

“Need you to fuck me Buck, please honey”. The man stood, stroking his hard cock as he teased your entrance. He swiped it through your slit a couple of times, before slapping his head against your clit, making your mewl against his lips, as you licked your essence from around his mouth. “James...” His cocky demeanour returned, as he watched you glance down at his cock, pressing your lips together in desire.

“Thought you didn’t want to fuck me on the boat.” He sneered dominantly, gripping your throat with his vibranium fist, giving it a tough squeeze, finding it endlessly hot as needy tears pooled in the corners of your eyes. Your lips pouted as you sputtered to speak, but you were just so hungry for him. “Guess I’m just gonna have to take pity on you doll, aren’t I?”

With that,he wedged his way through your folds, filling you to the brim as he bottomed out, gently releasing your throat to paw at your tits through your shirt. “Move baby, move.” You mumbled, your head feeling dizzy as your nails dug into the back of his neck, pulling him closer so that you could place tender and supple kisses across the front of his shoulders.

And so, he began to thrust into you, keeping a grip on your hips as he raised your leg around his waist, driving into you deeper, your head tiredly lulling as you chanted his name in soft and delirious pants. “So damn tight angel.” The soldier muttered, biting down onto your chin as he kissed his way up to your lips, abusing the swollen flesh a little more. The kisses were sloppy and downright needy, his vibranium hand held your chin up so that it would tip in rhythm with his movements, making access to the inside of your mouth easier.

“Buck.” You mumbled against his lips as your eyes rolled, your own hand circling your clit as you jutted against his exceeding administrations, one hand crawling up into his scalp as you let our small screams. You were indefinitely close, and as Bucky swerved his head around your own, moving his lips to nip at your earlobe, you came, coating his cock in your wetness, as he continued to hit his hips against your own.

It wasn’t long until he followed after, your clumsy hands trailing down to roll his balls in your palms being the last thing to push him over the edge. Bucky remained standing between your legs, each of your heads resting over each other’s shoulders as you felt each other, eyes closed, and smelling how the aroma of your sex wafted around you, like a personalised perfume.

“Hell no.” And the peace was broke, as Sam’s voice broke it. He had his hands on his hips as he shifted his gaze away from the two of you, unimpressed by what had happened. “The two of you get a break and you - not on my boat!” He practically screeched like a falcon at the pair of you, his arms flailing about like a bird’s flapping wings.

Although he was maddened, it didn’t settle well with you. You were too far out of it to acknowledge what he must have thought about the on deck dick that you had gotten, you were too lost in Bucky, the feeling of him still inside of you, and the falling of his cum out from beneath you both. “You know what, I’m outta here.” Sam left, quite glad to do so.

“You alright doll face?” Bucky asked as he pulled out, making you wince from the feeling of emptiness. You nodded as he reached for your underwear , leaving them be when he registered he had torn them, and instead opted to picking up just you’d shorts, pulling them onto your legs, redressing himself afterwards.

“I love you Buck.” You smiled tiredly, humming as he pecked your lips a few more times, combing his hands through your sex hair, as he returned the facial expression, seemingly calm. It looked good on him, the pair of you had momentarily forgotten your traumas, and it was bliss.

“Love you too darling.” He pecked your nose, staring lovingly into your eyes as he helped you down, and abled you with support to stand. “Unfortunately I think our breaks over beautiful.” He spoke, his hand upon your waist as the pair of you walked from the scene, going to fetch a bottle of water from Sarah, whom you hoped had not learn of your oversea adventure .

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan x reader #bucky oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagines #tfatws x reader #tfatws smut #tfatws bucky #marvel smut #mcu smut #mcu x reader smut #imagines #imagine #xreader #twssmut #twsxreader #sebastian stan oneshot #sebastian stan x you

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Torment

Summary: James Buchanan Barnes does that thing with his metal arm on a mission that stirs something inside you. Something that needs immediate attention, even if it has to be on the quinjet.

Warnings: 18+, smut, dirty talk, fluff, is metal arm kink a thing?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Square Filled: Kissed to keep quiet

Word Count: About 900?

A/N: Written for @avengersbingo 2021. I blame FATWS and Sebastian Stan for this.

Avengers Bingo Masterlist

Everything Taglist – @godofplumsandthunder @ladyacrasia @agustdowney @swaggysposts @littlegasps @little-baby-vixen @another-stark-sub @supraveng @kahlanmars @marvelgirl7 @disappointmentofthefam @pandaxnienke @tom-hlover @just-the-hiddles fyreball66 @asmigurub @avantgardium-leviosa @imerdwarf @gladiosamicitias @fanofalltheficsx @ladyburberry​

Taglists open! Send me an ask or DM if you wish to be included! ;))

.

Torment. It was pure torment.

Watching him take out the bad guys to infiltrate a building that housed important mission data along with Sam Wilson while you manned the quinjet and helped the boys by hacking into the security system for easy access. After getting them in, you were the audience to the fight that ensued which you had to admit wasn’t the worst part of your job, in fact quite the opposite.

The super soldier fought putting all of his previous assassin training to use. Whether it was a hand to hand combat or a weapon, his movements and actions never failed to leave you awe-struck.

It never failed to let desire bloom deep in your belly either, given it was often at the worst of times, but you weren’t the one to be blamed.

Like now, you had almost missed Sam’s thumbs up from the CCTV footage you had access to for having successfully infiltrated the main section of the building because you were too busy ogling at Bucky who was taking down a heavily armed guard.

“Just let me know when you’re done making heart eyes at your boyfriend, (Y/L/N).” Sam’s voice came through the comms sharply, breaking your little trance.

Bucky knocked the guy out of consciousness with a single blow of his Vibranium arm before turning to look at you straight through the cameras, that knowing smirk visible even through the grainy visual.

.

The jet hummed quietly as it glided through the clouds homeward while you went to check on Bucky who was in the bathroom taking longer than usual to freshen up.

“Hey are you ok—”

Before you could complete the sentence, his hand pulled you inside the cramped space while another went to silence your startled scream.

Bucky pinned you against the door, the smirk returning as realisation dawned on your face of his intentions.

“You enjoyed the show?”

That soft whisper travelled right down to your core as he lowered his hand slowly, purposely tracing an invisible line down your front.

“Can’t blame me.”

He chuckled and leaned in as your hands went to cup his face, soon weaving into his shorter, soft hair as he hummed into the kiss.

Without warning he yanked your pants down in one swift motion, earning a gasp as his lips left yours, moving down to your neck.

“Is this what you wanted?” He murmured into your skin as he grabbed both your hands before securing them over your head with his metal one. The hold was tight enough to restrict any movement but loose enough knowing you wouldn’t dare. Besides, he knew just how much you enjoyed being held down by his arm.

“Oh yes.”

“Better be quiet then.”

Bucky traced your exposed skin before reaching your panties, toying with the hem. Fingers running over the fabric smoothly, teasing as your breaths got shallower.

Reaching in, his fingers were met with the wetness gathered between your legs, your arousal evident. The light touches he was teasing you with turned you into a wriggling mess as you moved your hips further into his hand for more friction.

“Don’t be a fucking tease Bucky.”

“Hush now sweetheart. Don’t make me shut your mouth.” Bucky’s voice low just the right amount of sexy to drive you insane, almost begging you to misbehave.

Your walls engulfed his fingers as they entered your wetness, making your head hit the back of the door in a low thud as you sighed.

“You want more?”

“Mmhmm. Please..”

“So pretty when you beg.”

The supersoldier released your hands momentarily to undo his pants but did it for him, desperate to have him inside you after fully getting rid of your bottoms.

You gave his cock a few pumps with your hands before aligning it along your entrance, as awkward as it was standing up, you managed.

“Fuck you feel so good.”

He bottomed out, his forehead on your shoulder. Grabbing the back of your knees, he lifted you up with ease and began thrusting in and out against the door.

A loud moan escaped your lips as he hit the spot. It didn’t take long for Bucky to cover your mouth with his and plunge his tongue inside, battling your own in a dance you were so familiar with.

His hips never faltered as your cries were swallowed in the brutal kiss, turning your mind foggy as your orgasm approached.

Bucky smiled against your lips as he felt your walls clench around his cock, knowing just what to do to send you over the edge.

Your fingers dug into his leather-clad shoulders as he rubbed circles around your bundle of nerves with one hand, making you see stars as you came around him, cries muffled by the sloppy kisses that continued for what felt like eternity.

The aftershocks of your orgasm still wracked your body as his hips faltered and his cock twitched inside you, filling you up with his seed.

“That was uh..”

“I know.”

“That’s it. You’re coming with me on all missions, I don’t care what Steve says.” Bucky stated, handing you your clothes.

Sharing a few lazy kisses, you got dressed, grinning like kids who’d stolen candy.

The smiles turned into full blown laughter when you heard Sam yelling ‘I’m never getting on this jet with you guys again’ as he stormed past the bathroom most probably shaking his head in disgust.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #avengers bingo #avengers bingo 2021 #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes one shot #james buchanan barnes #fatws bucky #bucky barnes x female reader #marvel fanfiction

[allyouneedisbuck]

all this devotion is rushing out of me

summary // Bucky Barnes is beautiful. No ifs, ands or buts. But there was something exceptionally beautiful about him that you were desperate to see. (bucky x fem!reader)

or; bucky barnes blushing is reader’s kryptonite and all she wants is to see it.

words // 2.0K

warnings // (hi there is a brief brief allusion to a breeding kink in this but i don’t write smut so it’s nothing graphic) mentions of pregnancy & sex 

notes // my second b.b fic also originally posted on my ao3 happy reading! i have more in the works! 

Bucky Barnes is beautiful. There’s no doubt about that in your mind.

From his newly cropped hair to the smile lines forming around his eyes. Down to the stunning metal arm and god his thighs.

Bucky Barnes is beautiful.

But your favorite part, the thing of his that you find most beautiful, are his flushed cheeks and embarrassed smiles.

The way he turns red from the tip of his ears to the apple of his cheeks and turns his eyes away with a small, embarrassed smile always makes your stomach flutter. It was so beautiful and rare that when it did happen, you just wanted to bring it back.

So while visiting Sam and Sarah, Mission Blushing Barnes, was born in your mind. You didn’t really want to embarrass him, far from it, so you knew you didn’t want to do anything in front of Sam or any of Sam’s family. But, fuck, watching him play with the boys and make himself at home with the Wilson’s had something growing in your chest.

And you wanted to see him blush. If only to end the day on a high note. So you waited and waited. Until finally, it was you and him sitting on the edge of the dock talking about nothing.

“Louisiana’s nice, isn’t it?” He asks quietly as he watches the sun set. You nod but don’t respond, too busy admiring his side profile.

The slope of his nose and outline of his lips has your mind jumping for joy that he’s yours. That he’s the man you get to wake up to and comfort. You smile when he turns to look at you, bemused by your silence. “What’s up, doll?”

You reach out to place a hand on his cheek. “Just admiring you. So pretty.” You keep your eyes focused on his face, expecting a blush at the term pretty instead of handsome. All that comes though is a snort. You drop your hand with a frown.

Bucky rests a hand on your waist and drags you closer to him. “Gotta do better than that, doll. You’ve been calling me pretty for months now. I’m used to it.”

You open your mouth in faux shock. “I have no idea what you mean.” You say in a pitched voice as you rest your head against his shoulder.

Bucky shakes with laughter. “I know you like making me blush. Gives you some sick power high.” He mumbles the words into your hair as he gives you a kiss.

You smile. You know there’s no menace behind his words. You can tell from his relaxed body language and quiet tone of voice your little mission doesn’t bother him all that much.

“Is that a challenge, Sergeant Barnes?” You glance up and Bucky looks down at you exasperated. For a moment, you think the red will appear and you’ll have won a bet before it’s even begun. But…

A smirk slides onto his face, something cocky and bright, that makes your stomach clench excitedly. “Calling me sergeant outside the bedroom isn’t gonna make me blush, sweetheart.”

You laugh softly and Bucky presses another kiss to your hair. “What do I win if you can’t make me blush by the end of the night?” He asks after a moment of silence.

You purse your lips and think for a moment. “What do you want?” You ask when nothing comes to mind. “Because I know when I win, you’ll be worshipping me.”

“I do that anyways.” He says immediately, making you laugh.

“I mean… I’ll be in charge.” You clarify with a raised eyebrow. Bucky bites down his lip to stop a smile and you hope that the blush appears just from the mention of you taking over for the night.

He shakes his head. “And if I win, you wear that suit Sam made you.” You watch as his eyes flicker over you body, definitely imagining the skin tight suit Sam had made as a joke after your complaints of how fictional heroes dressed. You had laughed and Sam had given you the real suit moments later, the skin tight suit had been stuffed into your closet and all but completely forgotten. 

“Sounds like a bet to me.” You pull back from his shoulder and hold your pinky out. “How about it, Barnes?”

Bucky leans down so his forehead rests against yours and with a wide smile he interlocks your pinky with his. “You’re on, sweetheart.”

The two of you just look at each other for a moment, until Sam’s voice breaks the comfortable silence. “Hey, weirdos! Come on, Sarah’s pulling out dessert!”

You scrunch your nose before hopping up. You don’t bother to pull Bucky with you, knowing his strength alone would probably end up sending you into the water. “Come on, baby, maybe we can steal some whip cream.” You wink as you walk backwards.

Bucky only laughs loudly and follows you. He reaches a hand out to stop you from walking off the dock and forces you spin around. “Strike one.” He whispers into your ear before running ahead of you to meet Sam.

You roll your eyes. Strikes weren’t a part of the bet and he knew it. He just wanted to psych you out. But you knew you could get that man to blush, you just had to find new material.

And you tried.

Leaning over when Sarah handed the ice cream and whispering as quietly as possible so only he could hear. “Forget the whip cream, ice cream might be a better bet.” Bucky looked down and shook his head before taking a bite of your chocolate.

Running your hand down his metal arm as you walked back to the Wilson’s. “Wonder what this arm could do to me.” Bucky had just looked down at you disappointedly. “You already know.” He hadn’t turned red, but you felt a little hotter.

You had even brought up the idea of sneaking in some adult time after the house was asleep. That had just gotten you a shocked stare as he pointed out the kids who slept upstairs.

It was getting late and you were getting desperate. It’s not that you really cared if you won or not, you know if there was something you truly wanted to try that Bucky wanted to as well, you would. You didn’t even mind the idea of wearing the suit for Bucky. The thought of wearing it even if you won had crossed your mind. You really just wanted to see his pretty face all red.

Then, the perfect thing happened. The kids were excited to mess around with Sam and Bucky. Both men were equally as excited to show off the shield and metal arm.

You hadn’t even started watching to find something to make Bucky blush, his bright smile and excited laughter as he and Sam pretended to fall to the boys power is what made you think.

Bucky wanted his own family. You knew for awhile Steve had been part of his family and when he come out of HYDRA, Steve was all that was left of it. He had you and he had the Wilson’s. But the two of you had spoken at length about your future and plans for your own family together. He was going on less and less missions and you had a steady job, so starting a family now made sense.

And you knew how you could bring it up and make him blush. It was an obvious win-win situation. 

“Buck!” You call out. His attention is immediately turned on you as he stands up straight and finds your eyes. You wave him over and laugh as the boys tease him about being in trouble.

You’re standing on the back stairs and end up being a step above him when he comes to a stop in front of you. His hands come to rest on your waist naturally as he looks up at you.

“What’s up, doll? Not in trouble, right?” He smirks and takes a step closer.

This time, you match his smirk with your own. You rest a hand on his shoulder and one on the back of his neck. “Not at all, Buck. Just wanted to tell you something.”

“Oh yeah?” He laughs gently. “You panicking? Cause I’m gonna win this bet?”

You hum in response and bend so you’re at eye level with him. “Was just thinking of how good you look with kids. I think you’ll make a great dad one day.”

The cockiness is wiped from Bucky’s face and replaced with a look much softer. “You think?” He asks quietly.

You nod excitedly. “Of course. I think you’ll make an amazing dad. I can’t wait to start a family with you.” You take a step down, so now you have to look up at Bucky. His eyes follow you happily. “In fact, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

You pause and Bucky furrows his eyebrows. You can tell he’s a little confused on where you’re going and that now he’s not even thinking about your silly little bet. Then you smile. “All I’ve been thinking about all day is you putting a baby in me, Bucky Barnes. I want it so bad.” You say the words softly as you flutter your lashes and smile alluringly.

Bucky’s eyes widen and he takes a shocked step back before looking down at you. Then you see it, starting from the tips of his ears and spreading over his cheeks. Bucky Barnes turns redder than you’ve ever seen.

“You…” He stutters as he looks around, like he wants to make sure that nobody heard the words that have just come out of your mouth. “Evil woman.”

You take a step forward to press a kiss to his lips. You can tell by his embarrassed smile that he can feel the flush on his cheeks. “Guess I get to be in charge when we get home.” You take a step back and turn to head back inside.

You feel a hand grip your own and look back at him. “Are you serious? About wanting a baby?” He asks almost shyly, like he’s worried the answer might be no.

You can’t even allow him to entertain possibility. You nod quickly and excitedly. “Of course I was, my love. I wouldn’t pull that out just to win some silly bet.” He lets go of your hand and an excited smile spreads across both your faces.

“Yeah? Gonna let me put a baby in you?” He asks, this time more excitement than embarrassment seeping into his tone and taking over his face. He moves to wrap his arms around your waist and you do the same.

“Yeah. I just might.” You scrunch your nose up at him and he does the same in return. “Might even wear the suit for you anyways, since you’ll be doing me such a favor.” You wink and Bucky laughs again. The two of you have gotten the attention of Sam and his nephews, but you’re sure they can't hear anything you’re saying.

“Think it’s you doing the favor.” Bucky leans in close and lowers his voice. “Having my baby. I know you’ll look beautiful. Fuck. I’m about to get us a flight home tomorrow.”

You feel heat on the back of your neck and butterflies in your stomach as you process Bucky’s words. “Gonna build our own little family, Barnes. Better get ready.” You laugh giddily as you lean forward to rest your forehead against his.

Bucky closes the small gap between you with a hard kiss. You press your body against his as he holds you tighter. The two of you are completely unaware of Sam’s shocked face or his hands rushing to cover the two children’s eyes.

“Gross!” He yells out and the two of you spring apart with embarrassed smiles. Bucky’s cheeks turn red again and that only makes you want to kiss him more. “That’s gross. There are kids here. And me. Nobody wants to see that.”

Bucky presses a soft kiss to your cheek before pulling away entirely. “I’ll see you later?” He asks as you begin to head back inside.

You nod with a mischievous smile. “I’m gonna go look at flights. I’m ready to be home with you, Sergeant Barnes.”

You laugh when a light blush graces his face again before he spins around and rushes back over to Sam and the boys. Sam punches him on shoulder and you can see the beginnings of a lecture, so you turn and rush up the stairs and head inside.

You rest a hand on your stomach. You’re unsure if it’s to quell the excited butterflies or because of your new plan to have a baby, but either way it makes you smile as you think.

Bucky Barnes was pretty when he blushed. Even prettier when it was the thought of having a baby with you that made him do it.

You would have fun with this.

-

notes // try and tell me the idea of only u being able to make bucky blush doesn’t make u warm inside u CAN’T! 

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes #buck barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #james bucky barnes #reader insert

[jennamacaroni]

if it's not too late!!! debava + stars and/or secrets for the december prompts

hacks appreciation week - day 7, free choice

@softdeb thank you so much for organizing this appreciation week and for everything you do for the hive, you’re so beloved and this has been so fun. and ty for this prompt 84 years ago, this silly thing has been in the back of my head for months so i'm glad i finally figured out how to put the words in the right order <3

“You’re really not telling me where we’re going?” Ava asks as she trails just behind Deborah up the stairs, down the hall and into the bedroom.

“You really can’t stand it, can you? Not knowing.” Deborah smiles wickedly, dropping the garment bag at the foot of the bed as Ava’s hands find her hips, spinning her around. Deborah’s arms loop instantly around Ava’s neck, her fingers finding the short hairs that have come loose from Ava’s ponytail and playing with them lightly.

“Once in second grade my parents tried throwing me a surprise party at the neighborhood park and invited my whole class and, like, hardly anyone showed up. Not to mention my dad overcooked the hot dogs. Burned to hell, all of them.”

“And let me guess, you’re still bearing the scars of that trauma?”

“Hey, that shit sticks with you as a kid. Not that you’d know, I’m sure you were Miss Popular.”

“I was, yeah,” Deborah brags, practically preening as Ava rolls her eyes.

“Literally not at all surprising, it’s kind of annoying.”

Deborah grins and licks her lips, drawing Ava’s gaze down. She quickly leans forward and presses their lips together, teasing Deborah’s mouth open with her tongue. They kiss languidly for a few seconds, relaxing into familiarity.

“How about now?” Ava asks, their lips a whisper away. Deborah makes a noncommittal noise and Ava moves instead to kiss down Deborah’s neck. They’re open-mouthed and delicious, sprinkled with the occasional nip of teeth, and Ava can sense that Deborah is starting to cave.

“No,” Deborah says instead, twisting her head away as Ava finds a ticklish spot. She nudges Ava backward at the collarbone to look her in the eye. “C’mon. Trust me. I am not your mother planning your second grade birthday party here, give me some credit.”

“Fiiiiiine,” Ava whines, grazing her hands down the full length of Deborah’s arms before connecting their hands.

“Stop worrying and put that on,” Deborah nods to the black garment bag behind them on the bed. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Ava steps around her, lowering the zipper as Deborah leaves her to change.

“Well, this, I was not expecting!”

_____

Ava trails out of the house after Deborah clad in her freshly laundered and pressed Halloween costume from last October. She’d dressed as Sally Ride, which was both to honor one of her heroes but also an excuse to wear a set of very queer royal blue coveralls and her Doc Martens. Josefina even sewed patches on it for her: a name plate and NASA on opposite sides of her chest and an American flag on the left shoulder. She carries the plastic space helmet under one arm and slips on a pair of aviator sunglasses as she steps into the perfect light of golden hour, the sun just setting above the trees and behind the distant mountain line.

There’s a sleek black limo idling out front, the driver opening the back door at their approach. Deborah climbs in first, pulling a chilled bottle Dom from the ice bucket and uncorking it easily, pouring two glasses as Ava slides in beside her.

“Swanky,” Ava comments, taking the offered flute and looking around at the softly lit dark leather interior.

“Happy birthday, baby,” Deborah toasts, clinking their glasses and taking a sip. It’s crisp and tart and perfect, and though Ava thinks the price is absurd, she can’t argue with the quality. It’s truly the best Champagne and she is so fucking spoiled that she’s gotten so used to drinking it.

As they drive across Las Vegas, the bottle empties, and the limo fills. First with DJ and Aidan, then Marcus and Wilson, and finally Kiki and Luna, who is also in her astronaut jumpsuit, hers bright orange. The helmet is too big and is always keening over crookedly to one side.

“Happy birtday, Ava!” Luna shouts, leaping into the car and scrambling across the meager space in the aisle between everyone’s legs to climb into Ava’s lap. She throws her arms around Ava’s neck and hugs her tight.

“Thanks, worm,” Ava says, squeezing back. “Hey, do you know where we’re going? No one wants to tell me!”

“Miss Debbie made me pwomise not to tell,” Luna explains very seriously before miming zipping closed her lips and throwing away the key.

“And she taught you that, too, didn’t she?” Ava laughs, tickling at the four year old until she’s shrieking and squirming out of Ava’s grip. Her shoes light up as they make contact against the dark carpet.

“Do you think we’re going to space?” Ava asks Luna as Deborah uncorks another bottle and everyone cheers.

“Mommy says I’m not old enough,” Luna pouts as Kiki pulls her into her lap. “Maybe next year.”

“Maybe,” Ava agrees, winking quickly at Kiki. “Well, no chance I’m going without you, worm. I’d never make it without my best co-pilot and navigator.”

The group chats amiably during the remainder of the short drive, sipping on Champagne and sparkling apple juice for Luna. Eventually the car comes to a final stop and they all pile out and into the breezy but clear Las Vegas evening.

“Oh my god, Deborah!” Ava shouts when she realizes where they are. She’d talked about wanting to visit the planetarium months ago, back when she was deep into space TikTok and her Sally Ride phase, and clearly Deborah hadn’t forgotten.

“Bought the place for the night,” Deborah explains, backing slowly toward the front entrance as she waits for Ava to catch up. “They’ve got a few shows queued up—”

“OMG guys! They project in high def—”

“On the dome,” Kiki interrupts, “yeah, we know, babe. You’ve only mentioned it about a thousand times.”

“You didn’t even let me get to the pizza,” Deborah says, making sure she’s got eyes on Ava’s face as her smile grows impossibly wider. “And I hear the birthday girl may even get to look through the telescopes later. Just a rumor, though.”

“D—” Ava turns from looking around the lobby in awe and excitement to Deborah, tears in her eyes and what she knows is the dopiest love-sick look ever.

“Not a bad surprise, then?” Deborah teases, accepting the soft kiss Ava presses to her lips.

“It’s perfect. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, honey. Happy birthday.”

Ava leans in for another kiss but before they can connect, Luna is pulling at Ava’s free hand and dragging her towards the theater entrance in order to get the best seats.

#hacksaw22 #hacks #hacks fic #softdeb #ava x deborah #in my head both hannah and ava are super into space #also soft deb is soft #prompts with friends