#I think her last name is Wilson right?

[arolesbianism]

I wanna make art for my dst roleswap au sooo bad but at the same time I think if I had to deal with even a single person deadnaming Wx on my posts I would snap

[euphoriaslux]

two’s a party.

summary: you recently transferred to stanford, and decide to tutor a tennis player in your class. he has a friend. severe indecency ensues.

word count: 3.3k

warnings : smut, threesomes, f!oral receiving, swearing, smoking, drinking. slight cuck energy if you squint (i’m sorry ((no i’m not))). no challengers spoilers!

a/n: this fic got away from me big time but this movie has rotted my brain and as a result i have written utter debauchery that i will not apologize for. just had to get this out of my head, enjoy!

-

stanford science hall. monday , march 3.

You swear the last thing you’ll hear before your body is lowered into your grave is the process of lactic acid breakdown.

It’s 2:30 PM. Kinesiology 189 with Professor Wilson, a lanky middle-aged man with a PhD in exercise science and a half-grown beard that you don’t think will ever fully grow in, is almost over. He’s teaching Extended Studies of the Human Body in a humid classroom filled with student-athletes, most of whom are trying to stay awake, trying to hide that they’re taking a nap, or making no attempt to hide that they’re on their phones. You don’t really blame any of them, because the professor’s voice is so soft and monotone that it feels like he’s begging everyone to pay attention to anything but him. You’ve managed to stay somewhat on course with the thread of today’s lecture, the notebook in front of you filled with scribbles of incomplete molecular structures and somewhat legible drawings of the muscular anatomy of a hamstring.

This class is required for your biology major since you’re on a pre-medicine track. You don’t know why you’re doing it, the whole doctor thing, but you’ve developed a weird fixation for this class. The functionality of the body, how muscles stretch and tear with each movement, and how amino acids work to build them back even bigger.

And, possibly because of the tennis player who sits four rows ahead of you every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.

His last name is Donaldson. You know because of the faded label on the massive bag he throws on the floor every time he walks into class, at least ten minutes late with a backward Stanford Tennis cap on his head. His first name remains a mystery, partly because he never talks in class, and mainly because you’ve made no attempt to speak to him. You like to think it’s because you’re so focused on the curriculum.

Professor Wilson knows your name, though, since you’re in his office hours every Thursday at 11 A.M. In part because he gives out most of the answers to his homework, and because you just transferred to Stanford your last year and very desperately need a letter of recommendation for medical school. Hence why you agreed to tutor a student with lower than 60% in the class during one of your meetings. And why everyone in the class was staring at you right now.

“... first come first serve, so reach out to her sooner rather than later.”

You give a tight-lipped smile, glancing around the room. Most people have looked away, back to their distraction of choice, but you meet eyes with the fluffy blonde-haired tennis player.

stanford library. wednesday, march fifth.

It’s 11 A.M., and you feel like your brain is about to explode if you look at another practice set.

“Hey”.

Your head whips around to the harsh whisper, only to be met with the blue-eyed mystery from your class. He has that large bag slung over his shoulder, with the end of a tennis racket peeking out of it. His hair is slightly stuck to his face, and his compression tee is slick to his chest like a second skin.

“Hi,” you whisper back. He smiles before tossing his bag on the floor and sitting in the chair across from you, either unaware of or completely ignoring the glares he’s receiving from the other students studying.

“You know,” he pulls out some kind of nutrition bar from his bag, unwrapping it and taking an aggressive bite, “for someone advertising their services, you’re pretty hard to find.”

“You’re in Mr. Wilson’s class, right?” you ask, hoping your subdued voice will remind him that he’s in a notoriously quiet place. He hums, pointing at you with his half-eaten snack.

“And I’m trying not to fail, but you didn’t leave your number anywhere in the classroom, and you bolt after every class. So how am I supposed to patronize your tutoring services…” he trails off, his volume the same level as when he walked in. You furrow your brows as he leans back into the chair.

“That’s when you say who you are.”

You feel a burn on the back of your neck as you tell him your name. He glances down towards the problem set you’ve nearly finished.

“How do you turn in any of those, I can’t get halfway through one of them.”

You pause for a moment before leaning slightly across the table to whisper:

“This new weird thing called studying. I think it just got approved by the CDC.”

“Very funny,” he shakes his head as reaches for your binder with your class schedule printed out on the front of it.

“Why are you taking so many bio classes?”

“Because I’m a biology major,” you can’t help the sarcasm dripping from your voice, and he looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Sorry, you’re making this too easy for me,” you raise your hands in conceit.

“I have practice every day at five so you can tutor me for like an hour beforehand,” he says before standing up, crunching up the silver wrapper and stuffing it into the front pocket of his blue jeans. You scoff at his sentence.

“Well, thank you for so generously fitting me into your schedule,” you roll your eyes, turning the page in your textbook. He grins.

“Tell the coach you’re there for Art. They’ll let you through.”

stanford tennis courts. friday, march 7th.

It’s 4 PM, and the California sun is sweltering. Your shorts feel like they’ve become a part of your legs, and your bag feels like it weighs a thousand pounds. By the time you make it to the tennis courts Art is already on the green concrete, shirtless with beads of sweat dripping down his face and chest. You hear his grunts as he sprints across the court, hitting the ball toward a slightly taller brunette with dangerously short red shorts. You watch them at the entrance for a few minutes, slightly entranced as the two play so seamlessly, as if they know every move the other person is going to make. You force your eyes away as you walk up the bleachers, stepping over leftover water bottles and chip bags to sit down and grab your notes from your backpack. It takes a couple more minutes for Art to notice you, yelling your name after he turns around to grab a ball his partner had hit particularly hard. You wave, and he says something you can’t hear to the brunette before the two of them jog across the courts and up the stands to where you are, blocking the sun as the two stand side by side.

“Who’s your friend?” you ask as you stuff the problem set you were working on in between the pages of your notebook.

“I’m Patrick,” he says, with a toothy smile and his ears poking out from under his hair. He has a bit more of a boyish charm to him than Art does, whose eyes are glued to his brunette counterpart.

“Are you in Mr. Wilson’s class too?”

Patrick opens his mouth to answer but Art speaks first, slightly pushing his friend with his shoulder as he says “He doesn’t go to Stanford, too busy being a tennis pro.”

Patrick rolls his eyes but his smile doesn’t leave his face. You notice how different this Art feels from the one in the library, how direct his playfulness is and how close he and Patrick stand together, their sweaty torsos nearly melding together.

Interesting.

“Like, Andre Agassi level pro?” you smile as the two of them laugh. Patrick raises the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat off of his forehead, and you can’t help but take a glance at the exposed skin just above his waistband.

“Sorry, he’s like the only tennis player I know.”

“No, no I’m taking that as a compliment that you think I’m on the level of Agassi. No takebacks if you see me play,” Patrick points at you.

“Will do,” you salute, turning over to Art.

“You ready to study?” you ask him as he makes a comically loud groan, his head falling back. Patrick laughs, reaching over to ruffle his friends hair.

“You do remember that’s why I’m here, right? Midterms are in two weeks.”

“I definitely have not forgotten that.” he says. You purse your lips just as Patrick’s eyes seem to light up.

“I’m staying at the Courtyard Hotel for the weekend. You two can come over and study, I need to review my last match anyway. Kill two birds with one stone,” Patrick suggests.

“Just studying?”

“Just studying,” Art says, wrapping his arm around his friend's shoulder. You glance between the two of them, trying to decipher the unspoken communication they seem to be doing. But you can’t crack it, so you shrug.

“Sure.”

“Let us finish this set, and then you’ll have me all to yourself. Sound fair?”

“Wow, what a privilege. Don’t take too long, it’s hell on Earth out here!” you yell the last part as Art jogs down the steps and back down towards the net. You look up once you realize that the sun is still being blocked, and Patrick is still standing in front of you.

“You ever play?” he grins, flipping the tennis racket in his hand.

“Tennis? God, no, that would not be a pretty sight. I’ll stick to what I’m good at,” you gesture to the books and notes in your lap. Patrick nods.

“If you ever want to learn, I could teach you sometime, you know if-” he’s cut off by Art yelling his name, and you both glance to see him with his hands on his hips.

“Go, don’t keep your boyfriend waiting,” you wave him off, and you swear you can see him blushing. Must have been the glare.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says over his shoulder as he runs toward Art.

courtyard hotel. saturday, march 8.

It’s 11 pm. There’s a cold shiver in the elevator as you wait to get to the fourth floor, your tennis shoes tapping against the floor as one hand plays with the handle of the pack of beer in your hand while the other crumples and re-crumples the piece of paper with the hotel room number Patrick scribbled on it.

what are you doing?

You don’t have time to think about the consequences of your actions as the robotic voice signals that you’re on the fourth floor, the elevator doors fluttering open. It’s like your feet have a mind of their own, as you find yourself almost mindlessly wandering through the hotel halls until you’re planted in front of room 4B. You raise your hand to knock on the door but before you can make contact with the wood it’s thrust open, and Patrick is standing behind it. His dark hair is slightly tousled around his face, his striped shirt unbuttoned and his black boxer briefs low on his waist. He’s smiling, that same big smile as before, but his face is a little flushed, a gentle pink hue touching his cheeks. The two of you don’t say anything for a few seconds, as if you were both testing to see who would concede first to acknowledge the other’s presence. You raise the pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon in your right hand.

“I brought studying fuel.”

You were never good at waiting.

Patrick laughs before he moves slightly out of the way to allow you to walk into his room. It’s small, with a queen-sized bed and a tiny desk, and the A/C emits an odd rumbling sound as it smacks against the window. Clothes and scorecards are strewn across the floor, and the scent of cigarettes permeates the room. You place the alcohol on the floor before deciding to sit on the bed, kicking off your shoes as you cross your legs. Patrick seems to stall for a moment, smiling to himself before closing the door behind him. He doesn’t lock the door, but you didn’t notice.

“Art’s not here yet?” you ask, watching as Patrick walks over and tears open the cardboard case, cracking open a can. Taking a sip, he leans against the desk as he smiles.

“Art can be bad with time.”

“As I’ve noticed,” you reach your hand out to motion towards the drink and Patrick hands it to you, staring as you take a large sip.

“Well,” you wipe the side of your mouth, “I told him to bring the topics he wanted to study, so I guess we can’t do anything until he gets here.”

Patrick nods with a slight pout, his fingers playing with the pop tab of the can. “I guess we can’t.”

“How’s tennis… stuff,” you laugh as you finish the question, not sure of exactly what to say.

Patrick seems to tense a little at the mention of the sport, moving over to sit next to you on the bed. His knee grazes your leg and you feel a slight buzz at the contact as he takes the beer from your hand.

“I’m kinda fucking it up right now,” he says, and you furrow your brows.

“How? You were like, really good yesterday.”

He chuckles, shaking his head slightly. He hands you the beer and you finish it off, placing the empty can at the bottom of your feet.

“I’m good with Art. It feels so fucking natural and easy with him. But in my other matches, I don’t know. I just … can’t replicate it.”

You nudge him with your leg.

“Sounds like you two were made to play tennis together.”

He makes a noise of agreement, his hands slowly moving to ghost over your thigh.

“You and Art are pretty close?” you ask as he plays with the bottom hem of your shorts, but he doesn’t say anything. You take his silence as a yes.

“Do you ever get jealous?”

“Of Art?” he asks, almost incredulously. You shrug.

“Yeah, or jealous of the girls he’s with. Either or.”

Patrick sits on that for a few moments before smirking.

“What’s mine is mine, and what’s his is mine.”

You laugh at that, a real deep laugh, and Patrick giggles next to you, the both of you tipsy from the can of beer you finished. You reach over and put your hand on his flushed face, rubbing your hand across his cheek.

“What were you doing before I came?” you feel his face warm even more against your skin as you position yourself closer to him.

“Practicing- or, sorry, rereading my scorecards from my last match.”

You tutted as you moved your hand to the back of his neck, gently running your hands through his hair.

“You can tell me the truth, Patrick.”

He turns his head to press a gentle kiss to the palm of your hand before looking up at you as if to check if that was too much. Whatever your expression is gives him the confidence to move down to your neck, his tongue licking your skin.

“I think you know.”

You feel a pull in your lower stomach at his words, muffled by his mouth nipping at the sensitive spot just below your ear, and he sucks hard enough for you to put your hand around on his face at the pressure. Pulling his face up, the two of you stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, and his eyes glance toward your lips. You wanted to wait, to make him beg and plead for it, but your body seemingly pulled you forward as your pressed your mouth onto his.

You were really quite bad at waiting.

He tastes like tobacco and faintly of the fruit medley in the dining hall, and you sigh as his lips interlock with yours and his hand grabs the back of your neck, pressing you into him. The kiss gets messy and hard, his tongue gliding over your bottom lip and into your mouth as you lift your leg to straddle Patrick, grinding into him. He whimpers into the kiss as his calloused hands drop down to the waistband of your shorts, hesitating for a moment before dropping his hand into your underwear. You grind just a little bit faster as his fingers press circles into your clit, covering your mouth with your hand as you moan.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs as he uses his other hand to guide your hips, and your move your hands down to tug firmly on his hair. You can feel your climax building, the pressure in your stomach getting closer and closer to taking you over the edge-

You both jump at the sound of the hotel room dor slamming shut. Art is standing there, in that damn backward cap and a Stanford tee shirt as he crosses his arms over his chest, saying nothing as you and Patrick sit up straight, him adjusting his crotch and you smooth down your shirt, avoiding his gaze. Finally, the silence is broken by Art laughing.

“Christ, I’m not the cops,” he slips out of his slides as he waltzes over and opens a can of beer, drinking about half of it in one go. You look at him, and at Patrick, and then back at him, not knowing what the hell you just got yourself into.

“You want to fuck him right?” Art asks, and you can’t help your small gasp at how easily he said that. You glance at Patrick, hoping he’ll know what to say, but he’s just staring at Art.

“I-um,”

“So, no one’s stopping you,” Art cuts you off, taking a final swig of his beer and moving to stand directly in front of you. You open your mouth to try and explain, but before you can talk Patrick’s mouth is on yours again, his hand roaming your body. His grip is firmer now, his fingertips digging into the side of your stomach. He tugs at the bottom of your shirt and you separate, breathless as you pull your shirt over your head and toss it on the floor. Patrick’s mouth moves down to your neck, then your collarbones, and then your chest as he reaches around to take of your bra, and you feel on fire from Art’s gaze across the room. As Patrick kisses down your stomach and yanks down your shorts, you turn over to meet Art’s eyes.

“Come here.”

Whatever resolve Art was holding onto crumbles as he quickly takes off his shirt and slips out of his Nike shorts, tossing his hat on the dresser. In a flash Art’s hands are on your neck, tilting your head around to kiss you as Patrick lifts up your hips so he can take off your underwear. Art’s lips are softer than Patrick’s but he kisses you a little bit harder, his hand cupping the base of your neck. Somehow, they both taste the same. You moan into Art’s mouth as you feel Patrick’s tongue swirl around your clit, rolling your hips into his mouth as Art’s cock presses into your back. It’s just so much so fast, and that familiar buzz starts to pool in your lower stomach.

“Look at him,” Art turns your head to Patrick and you look into his eyes as you cum, Art’s hands hold your head forward as a wave of euphoria crashes over you. Patrick’s hands are digging into your hips as he stares up at you and Art. Your chest heaves up and down as you try to catch your breath, leaning against Art as Patrick leans back up, his mouth a few inches from yours.

“Who do you want first?

[thechy-fychannel]

I saw a few other blogs doing this so I thought I'd share my input on what I think would happen in the House MD universe in 2024:

the constant jokes abt house and wilson's relationship turns into the fellows jokingly writing fanfic abt their boss and his boy best friend. somewhere along the way they all get very serious abt the quality of it and it turns into a Whole Thing, a 150k+ novel that they vow to take to their graves.

house discovers the fic by accident and sends it to wilson. wilson discovers things abt himself and then he and house discover each other shortly thereafter.

house purposefully posts the fic online and credits the fellows by their entire full names so it embarrasses them more than house and wilson. It's never spoken abt again but it gets way more online attention than any of them expected.

wilson doesn't get how the Cloud works and accidentally uploads his and house's nudes to the google nest hub on his desk. He doesn't notice it until one of his sweet little old lady cancer patients points it out to him during their appointment. He throws the google nest hub into his trash can until he can figure out how to get the naked pictures off of it.

house has an alexa and abuses the hell out of it. sometimes ppl hear him screaming at someone in his office, only to walk in and find a robotic voice replying with "sorry, I didn't get that" and house throws it off the balcony.

wilson gets addicted to online shopping. house has to stage an intervention bc they do not have enough room in their closet for another pair of prada loafers and their kitchen is full of shitty gadgets that wilson bought off temu or something.

some right wing social media influencer comes in with a mysterious illness and ends up getting castrated as part of the solution. 13 personally does the procedure herself and house watches like a proud dad.

a patient reveals chase's grindr by shoving his phone at him and asking "is this you?" abt the headless profile with the ripped abs that says Dr. Feel Good, 0 feet away, in front of the rest of the team.

foreman finds the team doing tiktok dances bc house told them to learn it in order to understand their 15 yr old patient better.

chase medically murders mitch mcconnel and the entire hospital celebrates ding dong the witch is dead style.

there's a whole episode where house faces his transphobia bc of a trans patient that he connects with. the patient tells him to fuck off and go face his own problems instead of pretending to make it right by being nice to one trans person. And house does, even if he's not perfect, he really tries to do better.

13 gets her medical marijuana card and accidentally becomes the team's plug. her main customer is wilson who still supplies it to certain terminal patients. She hears "hey, can I hit your pen?" at least four times a day.

foreman buys a tesla and it blows up in the parking lot. they spend the entire episode trying to figure out who tried to kill foreman, but it turns out that teslas just do that sometimes.

there's an episode where house finds out that netflix is removing his favorite obscure tv show that ran for 2 seasons in 2002 and wilson recruits the team to hunt down a dvd copy of it without house finding out. they somehow manage to find one and spend a ridiculous amount of money on it, only to open the dvd case and find a copy of the porno wilson starred in that one time instead of the dvd of the show. park saves the day at the last minute by finding a copy of it in a box of dvds in her parents house.

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 34 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Without you at home, Bradley's big mouth is about to get him in trouble. As he counts down the hours until he can pick you up from the airport, you wrap up your trip to Maryland with a visit to your childhood home. However, you're not as smooth as you think you are. By the time you get back to San Diego, you are an absolute train wreck, and some secrets have been revealed.

Warnings: Swearing, pregnancy topics, angst, fluff

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

On Thursday morning, Bradley got to work a little bit early. He just needed to make a tiny detour to one of the database computers. He really wasn't sure if you realized that you told him Commander Patterson's first name last night, or if you let it slip by accident, but now that he knew it, he just wanted to check him out.

Every trip you took to Annapolis turned into some sort of disaster at one point or another. He couldn't imagine you were out there looking for trouble, but it sure did find you in the form of Derek or Josh. You were the most capable person Bradley knew, but he loved and respected you enough to know that sometimes you needed a break. Right now, he just wanted to bring you back home and take care of every tiny need or want that you or the baby might have. He'd honestly fucking delight in that.

As soon as he logged into the system, Bradley typed in your full name, complete with Bradshaw hyphenated at the end. A second later, your image appeared on the screen complete with lovely smile and gorgeous eyes. "That's my Baby Girl," he muttered, still captivated by this photo of you. 

He forced his fingers back to the keyboard, but no results appeared when he looked for Derrick Patterson. He tried Paterson. Then he tried Derick. Then he tried Derek Patterson and saw the face of the asshole who made his wife cry over a steak dinner. Were you more emotional right now than perhaps you would usually be? Absolutely. But that was only because you were pregnant. As soon as you told him you had a positive pregnancy test, Bradley's number one concern in this world simply switched from his wife to his wife and his child. 

This guy looked like a real tool. Forty-four years old. Ranked up to Commander two years ago. Worked in a simulation lab. Had the same degrees from the Naval Academy that you earned. "Yeah, well I can guarantee you're not as smart as her, you motherfucker."

He took another minute to memorize what he saw there before logging out. Maybe he'd ask Maverick about him. Cyclone and Warlock would be good resources, too. Bradley just hated that he wasn't able to make you feel safe and comfortable at the moment, but as soon as he picked you up tomorrow, he'd take care of everything. 

When he started to head out to the tarmac, he literally ran into someone while he was adding steaks to the grocery list he saved in his phone. He didn't know how to cook a steak, but he'd get them just in case you were still in the mood for one. "Sorry," he muttered, not really looking up, too concerned with what else you might want.

"It's okay, Bradley."

Then he did look up into the dark eyes of Maria Wilson. "Hey," he said with a smile at your good friend. "I've been meaning to ask you... how's rooming with Bob going for you?"

"Great," she replied with a little shrug and a completely neutral expression. "He's clean and courteous, and I think the arrangement is going to work out really well." 

If he didn't know better, Bradley would have believed nothing was going on. She was that good. But he did know better. He wasn't going to do Bob dirty, so he just nodded and said, "I hope it does work out. I've always felt a little bad about stealing my wife away from you."

She just laughed and said, "Like we didn't all see that coming a mile away."

He wandered off with a grin on his face after he said goodbye. He was planning on making a few stops on the way home before Jake showed up to workout together later. Bradley just had to get through one more night and then you'd be back.

----------------------------

You were an idiot for eating two steaks and seventeen pounds of sides and then passing out for the night. Sure, at the time, it seemed like the best idea you'd ever had. Derek's porterhouse hit the fucking spot like nothing else. The potatoes were creamy and delectable. The brussels sprouts? A thing of beauty.

But Thursday morning, you were back to your normal routine of throwing up as soon as you got out of bed. "I get it, okay?" you gasped as you sprawled out on the bathroom floor. "I understand," you added, letting your hand settle on your belly. "You miss your Dad. Well guess what. I miss him, too. Now will you stop acting out if I promise to take you home tomorrow?"

A soft gurgle as your stomach started to settle was the response you got, and that was actually better than you could have hoped for. When you heard tapping on your hotel room door, you knew it was Cat, and you wanted to cry. You were wearing Bradley's UVA shirt and a pair of your ratty underwear and nothing else, and she'd just keep knocking until you answered. 

"I'm coming," you moaned, actually crawling most of the way there. You pulled yourself up and then cracked the door open a few inches, and you were met with Cat's appraising eyes. "Hi."

"I just wanted to know if you wanted to get breakfast with me," she said cautiously.

"No, I'm good, but thanks for asking." You tried to close the door, but her foot was immediately preventing that. 

"Are you sick?" she asked. "I can bring something back for you."

"No, I'm okay," you told her. Your stomach lurched, and your eyes went wide. You had about ten seconds to get rid of her and make it to the toilet. You didn't know what to do as saliva pooled at the back of your tongue. You started to gag as your eyes filled with tears. 

"Hey," she said softly. "If something's wrong, you can tell me."

But you shook your head and let go of the door, making a mad dash back into the bathroom. You barely made it to your knees in front of the toilet before you barfed again. "Why?" you moaned, wiping your mouth with toilet paper before rolling onto the bath mat which had become your best friend.

"Oh my god," Cat muttered as she walked right into your hotel room bathroom. She flushed the toilet and then turned to the sink and started to fill one of the disposable cups with water. "You're pregnant," she stated plainly. "You could have told me, you know. Congratulations, by the way."

As she knelt on the floor next to you, she helped you sit up. You accepted the cup from her and said, "It's just food poisoning." She blinked at you a few times, giving you no wiggle room to lie to her. "Fine," you admitted with a little smile, "I'm pregnant."

She ran the backs of her fingers along your forehead while you sipped the water. "How far along are you?"

"About nine or ten weeks," you whispered as you closed your eyes for a few beats. "I'm just really tired and really fucking sick. I felt good last night, but now I feel terrible again."

Cat took the empty cup from your hand and wrapped you up in a soft hug. "Thank you for holding it together for the presentation. Now you need to get back into bed."

You shook your head and said, "I need to get up and moving so I can go see my parents later."

"No," she said firmly, guiding you back to the bed. "You need to rest right now. You'll feel better if you do." 

Part of you wanted to make sure your suitcase was closed so she didn't see your vibrators, but mostly you didn't even care. She had a certain way about her that was calming you down, and as soon as you were in the bed, she tucked you in. You almost believed her when she told you that resting would help you feel better. 

"Where's your room key?" she asked once you were curled up on your side.

You let one hand sneak out from under the covers and pointed. "Next to the TV."

She patted your shoulder and promised she would be back soon, and then she was gone. You dozed on and off while your stomach gurgled, and you missed a few texts from Bradley. When Cat eventually opened your door and let herself in, you were actually feeling hungry. And that's when you noticed two bags and a cup carrier in her hands. 

Quietly, she set everything down on your nightstand including some orange juice that almost brought a tear to your eye. Somehow she knew that was what you needed when you didn't even know yourself. You sat up as she poked a hole in the lid and handed it to you, and you drank half of it down in one sip.

"You need to eat something," she whispered, taking the cup away again. "I got you a bagel with cream cheese, an egg sandwich, a few different kinds of donuts and a muffin."

You reached for the bagel, and she unwrapped it for you. "I'll pay you back," you rasped, but she shook her head.

"Don't worry about it. Just make the baby happy, and we're square," she replied as she sank down into the chair beside the bed.

But you were definitely going to worry about it. Money was very tight for Cat and Jeremiah, so you would have to figure out a way to make it even. She probably spent about forty bucks on all of this for you, and somehow she knew that a sesame seed bagel with cream cheese would go down as happily as the steaks did. You devoured the whole thing and then took some bites out of the egg and cheese sandwich before finishing the orange juice. 

Then you drank some of the hot tea as well and nibbled on a muffin, and you felt so much better. Cat asked you a few questions, but she didn't pry. "Bradley must be over the moon," she said softly with a sad smile. 

"Oh yeah," you told her, knowing that her ex-husband did not have a relationship with Jeremiah. "He dubbed the baby the chicken nugget." When she laughed, you added, "He's very excited to be a dad."

"He'll be a good one," she confirmed with a nod. "Now why don't you rest for a few more hours, and then I can drop you off at your parents' house so you don't have to drive."

"You don't have to do that."

"I'll drop you off and then go to the outlet mall. There are some things I want to get for Jer, and then I can pick you up again." She probably knew it wasn't a good idea to let you drive like this, and you were honestly kind of thankful that she offered.

"Alright." You fell asleep again as soon as she was gone.

--------------------------

When Bradley left work, it was blazing hot out, and he had his aviators on while he walked to the parking garage. It was already late as hell in Maryland, and he was a little afraid you had already left your parents and gone back to the hotel for the night. But your phone only rang briefly before you answered his FaceTime call.

"Bradley," you sighed, looking better than he'd seen you in weeks. "Here, say hi to everyone."

You turned your phone to reveal both of your parents along with Cat, sitting around the dining room table in the house where he was finally getting used to spending his holidays. They all greeted him warmly before your mom took the phone and asked him at least a dozen questions.

"Are you eating enough without her at home? How's work? How's Tramp? When can we come visit again, because she's not giving us a clear answer?"

She said nothing about the baby, so Bradley assumed you were holding yourself together well enough that it hadn't been mentioned. "I've been subsiding on cereal. Work is great. Tramp is great. I've been thinking about starting a project to expand the upstairs into another bedroom or two, so hopefully after that's finished, you and dad can stay as long as you want."

Bradley knew they would feel like a handful for him if they stayed at the house again, but that was only because he liked being alone with you. He really wanted to take a minute to talk to you privately, but your dad took the phone next so he could show off his latest painting project. When he finally got handed back to you, apparently it was time for you and Cat to head out. 

"I'll let you know when the flight leaves tomorrow," you told him. "Love you, Roo."

And that was it. With a deep sigh, he started up the red Bronco and headed to the store on his way home. He hated shopping in his uniform; he always got a bunch of looks from people, mostly women. He tried to make it quick, but it took him a little time to gather up steaks, potatoes, garlic, your favorite coffee, and all of the yellow flowers in the floral section. 

He barely had all of the food put away at home when Jake knocked twice on the front door before letting himself in the house. "It's like he fucking lives here," Bradley muttered to Tramp who had been waiting for his scoop of dinner before he ran to see Jeremiah.

"Hey, man," Jake called out. He had Cat's son tucked under one arm and some weird contraption under the other, and he was wearing gym clothes. "Did you just get home?"

"Yeah," Bradley replied, unable to keep himself from smiling when Jeremiah reached out for him. He took the little boy in his arms and told him, "I had to get some stuff for my wife. You remember her. She's your favorite babysitter. She read you some books while you fell asleep, because her voice is the sweetest thing in the world."

Jake rolled his eyes. "Angel made you soft, old man."

Bradley pointed to Jeremiah. "And this little thing made you soft, so you don't have a leg to stand on."

He just kind of shrugged in response and took the child back as he said, "Go get changed. I'll meet you in the garage."

As Jake disappeared through the sliding glass door, Bradley headed to the bedroom. He stripped out of his uniform and put on some shorts and a Top Gun shirt that was starting to fit a little snug across his biceps and chest again. This was a good sign, because he wanted to bulk up as much as possible. He'd be ready to haul the baby and all of the gear around so you didn't have to. 

His thoughts were on you and the baby. You. Baby. You. Baby. He couldn't wait until both of you were home tomorrow. When he walked out to the garage, he found Jake doing a few pushups while Jeremiah played with a stuffed tiger while he sat in some sort of portable crib.

"What is that thing?" Bradley asked as he reached for his lifting gloves. "A mini crib?"

Jake jumped to his feet as he said, "It's called a pack 'n play, but yeah, it's kind of a mini crib that folds up."

"Huh," he replied, eyeing it up so he could search online for that kind of thing later. "Looks handy. We're definitely going to need one of those."

Jake was frozen in place, eyes wide and jaw hanging open. "Is Angel pregnant? I knew her ass looked bigger." A grin curled along his lips, and that was when Bradley realized he had fucked up.

"Oh, shit," he muttered as his heart rate sped up and he started to sweat. You were going to be so upset. Your own parents didn't even know yet, but now Jake did, and it was all his fault.

"She's pregnant!" Jake practically shouted. "Congratulations, Rooster," he said, pulling Bradley into a hug and slapping him on the back. "You finally figured out which hole to put it in, huh?" he asked with an absolutely obnoxious grin.

Bradley glared at him. "Seriously. Nobody else knows about this yet. She might murder me if she finds out you know."

"I won't say shit about it," Jake promised, cuffing him on the shoulder before releasing him. "Damn, she must be excited. I know you both wanted this."

"Yeah," Bradley rasped, just knowing his face must be flushed pink. He ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm so fucking happy and scared and nervous, I can barely make it through a day without her here, you know?"

Jeremiah roared and held up the tiger for Bradley. He took it and made it roar back before pretending it was kissing Jeremiah all over his face. His laugh was infectious, and it left Bradley smiling. 

"Damn," Jake drawled. "I think you're ready for the parenting thing."

"I know I am," he replied, fixing him with a serious look. "I'm ready."

Jake sighed and nodded. "But you still have a lot to learn. Do you know about outlet covers?"

Bradley's eyes went wide. "No. What are those?"

"How about white noise to help a baby sleep? Do you know what a convertible car seat is?"

"No," Bradley whispered, "No, I don't."

Jake settled back onto the bench and reached for the barbell. "Spot for me, and I'll tell you everything I've learned."

------------------------

It was finally Friday morning, and Cat was knocking on your door with another round of food and orange juice before you were even out of bed. When you let her in, she set everything up on the nightstand while you went to use the bathroom, and you were pleasantly surprised that you didn't need to throw up while you were in there.

"Eat as much as you can," she told you. "I asked them to give you a late checkout, so you can stay here until noon, and then we'll head to the airport."

"You're a saint," you told her with a mouth full of bagel. "I owe you so much money for this, you have to let me pay you back."

She just shook her head. "I'll let you babysit Jer so Jake and I can go out one night. Assuming I'm still in a relationship after we get bad to San Diego later tonight."

"You will be," you told her as you sipped the orange juice. "Jake isn't stupid." You paused before you set the juice down in favor of a donut. "Well... he's kind of stupid, but not when it comes to this."

Cat reached into the bag for another donut. "Seriously, if he and Bernie can't figure their shit out, I'll pull the plug and never look at another man again."

"Sometimes they really aren't worth the aggravation," you remarked, thinking back to every guy you dated before Bradley. "But sometimes they surprise you."

She didn't say anything else as she finished her donut. Then she let you take a nap, and when you got up and got dressed, you felt pretty amazing. Your stomach was gurgling quietly, and you looked okay enough to skip the makeup today. 

You dragged your suitcase out into the hallway and texted Bradley, letting him know you were going to be heading to the airport soon, and he responded almost immediately. 

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: i'll meet you in baggage claim sweetheart. i can't wait to have you and the nugget back home with me

You practically moaned, and also started tearing up as Cat met you in the hallway. "When willI I be normal again?" you whispered. "All I want to do is have rough, frequent sex with my husband, but every time I think about how sweet he is, I start crying."

She laughed and said, "You won't feel normal until about six months postpartum. Just have fun running that man ragged."

You nodded and wiped at your tears. "Where's our equipment bin?"

"Already in the car."

"You weren't supposed to move it alone! It's so heavy."

"And you shouldn't be carrying anything like that at all," she scolded, pushing you gently toward the elevators. "I took care of it. I'll take care of it all day, and I'll get your suitcase when we get to the airport, too."

You sobbed the whole way down in the elevator and most of the ride to the airport. When you said thank you, Cat told you to be quiet which made you smile and also cry more. You'd get Bradley to agree to watch Jeremiah for a whole weekend. It would give the two of you some practice, and it would give Cat and Jake time alone. There was no way he was going to mess anything up.

--------------------------

Bradley parked the red Bronco at the airport with a vase of flowers in the cup holder and an ultrasound picture tucked into the visor. Your flight had been delayed a few times, and he figured you were probably starving now. He picked up the container of peanut butter crackers he prepared and started to head inside, still a little too early but with nothing better to do.

He found an empty bench, and it wasn't long before Jake came strolling in with Jeremiah in his arms. Bradley stood up, jostling the snack container as he muttered, "You're not going to say anything to her, right?"

"Relax," Jake replied as Jeremiah reached for the crackers. "I won't say a word about her being pregnant. You can count on me."

That actually made him feel a lot more nervous as he opened up the container, broke a cracker in half and handed it to Jeremiah. "Okay. Just pretend you don't know a thing about it."

He watched Jeremiah get crumbs all over Jake's shirt as Jake checked his phone. "Sure. Hey, they landed. Cat said they're walking off the plane now."

Bradley checked his phone, but there was absolutely nothing from you, which was really strange. "Huh." He stood there awkwardly as he'd been left out of the loop, handing the other half of the cracker to Jeremiah when he reached for it. 

He watched Jake typing one handed, and then he said, "Apparently there was a ton of turbulence. Angel got pretty sick." When he met Bradley's eyes, he kind of shrugged. "Sounds like she's in bad shape."

Bradley ran his fingers through his hair until it was sticking up at an odd angle. "What's that supposed to mean? How is she in bad shape?" He looked over toward the partition that blocked off the area he wouldn't be able to get past without a boarding pass while he started to panic. Was he going to have to take you to the hospital or something? The cereal and potato chips he had for dinner started to sour in his stomach as he started walking in that direction. 

Then he saw you, and he started running. Cat had her arm around you, and she was carrying your tote bag along with her backpack while you sipped a can of ginger ale through a straw. Bradley could see fresh tears in your eyes as they met his. "Oh, Sweetheart."

"Roo," you croaked, and he closed the rest of the distance to you and carefully took you in his arms. "I was horrible."

Cat took the ginger ale from your hand, and you collapsed against him, a sobbing, shaking mess. "It's okay," he promised you. "You're home now, and I will take care of everything."

You nodded against his chest, and he let you cry. "I threw up so much. I was fine, but then it was really rough, and the baby hates me anyway." You cried harder, and then Jake was there with Jeremiah. He took the container of crackers so Bradley could rub your back with both hands. You hiccupped against him and mumbled, "You can say what you want. Cat knows. She guessed it. Then she took care of me."

Bradley wasn't surprised in the least that someone who had been pregnant before was able to tell that you were now. "Okay," he whispered, kissing the top of your head. He held you close and gave both Cat and Jake a stern look. "Do you want to go ahead and tell Jake?" he asked carefully. 

"Yeah," you groaned, leaning toward Jake slightly. "I'm pregnant."

If Jake didn't get Bradley out of this debacle safely, he was going to ban him from the home gym. But he should have known that above anything else in this scenario, Jake was going to have your back.

"Aww, Angel," he crooned as Jeremiah climbed into Cat's arms. "I'm so happy for you, mama." Then he kissed your cheek and winked at Bradley. "You'll be a natural, and ol' Rooster here's gonna be a class act. Now why don't you let him take you home? I can get the bin of your work stuff."

"You sure?" Bradley asked, giving Jake a discreet fist bump as you buried your face against his chest again. You were half burrowed inside his tropical print shirt at this point, and his undershirt was damp; he just wanted to get you home.

"We'll take care of it," Cat promised. "She's dehydrated. Make sure she drinks water or gatorade. And she needs to try to eat something." Jake handed the crackers back to Bradley. "Yeah, those might work, but she really needs to keep drinking."

"Got it," Bradley replied, kissing your forehead. "Thank you, Cat."

"It was my pleasure," she said with a smile as she cuddled Jeremiah. 

"Let's go, Baby Girl," Bradley whispered, leading you to get your suitcase as you sipped the ginger ale and nibbled on a cracker. He kept his hand at the small of your back as you sucked in deep breath after deep breath. "I'll get you home and into bed as quickly as possible."

You sniffed and looked up at him. "I just want you with me. That's all I wanted all week." 

Your lips quivered, and Bradley leaned in to kiss you as softly as he could. "That's all I wanted, too. I'm not going to leave your side." He kept you right there with him as he scooped up your luggage, and then he had his arm around you until he got you to the Bronco. With a kiss to your perfect cheek, he opened the door, helped you in, and buckled your seatbelt.

"Thanks, Roo," you sighed, eyes closed as you leaned back against the headrest, already looking more serene now that you and he were together.

"I would do anything for you." He stroked your belly with his fingertips. "Both of you."

Five minutes into the drive home, you were sound asleep, your fingers laced with his.

------------------------

I can already feel how much calmer she is just knowing she doesn't have as much to worry about with Bradley by her side. And he's going to be so much less stressed with her at home. It's looking like next chapter could be the last one in this series!!!! I'm hoping to do some one-shots for them and then pick up with another series? Please let me know what you'd like to see during and after her pregnancy. And thank you for reading! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 35

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[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Got My Doll Back » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Wife/Enhanced!Reader with Steve Rogers/Captain America, Sam Wilson/Falcon, and Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow

Summary: Bucky gets his wife back after thinking that she was dead for years.

Warnings: Fluff, language, mentions of past memories & trauma, fighting, crying, kissing, pet names (doll)

A/N: Y/N has the same powers as Wanda.

A/N #2: Thank you to @buckys-wintersoldier for helping find the first aesthetic picture🩵

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes and typos.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

“These 4 people are your mission. Get these 3 out of the way.” Pierce shows you pictures of Captain America, the Falcon, and Black Widow. “And bring the Winter Soldier back to us alive. Understand?” He says, showing you a picture of the Winter Soldier.

“I understand, sir.” You reply.

Alarms at the base you’re at went off, along with a flashing red light in the room. Pierce went to the security system to see four people walking through the hallways of the base separately. Pierce chuckles and smirks before turning to face you.

“This mission may be easier than we thought. Go to the south end of the base and bring the Winter Soldier to the room.” He tells you.

You nodded and headed towards the door. An agent opened it for you. You headed to the south side of the base. Your walk was cut short when you heard a woman’s voice. You turned around to see a woman with red hair and wearing a black mission suit, one of your targets. She rose one of her arms, getting ready to shoot one of her widow bites at you. Your powers glowed red in your right hand, along with your eyes glowing red. She began to walk towards you, but you used your powers to throw her against the wall, making her groan in pain when she landed on the floor. You ran away from her before she could get up and get you.

“Rogers, Barnes, Wilson. There’s a woman wearing all black with a red jacket is going to the south side of the base. She’s enhanced.” Natasha says into her ear piece.

“I’m on it!” Sam replies, running to the south side.

You rounded the corner to see your second target causing you to stop in your tracks, seeing a man standing across from you.

“I’m not about to fight a woman so let’s do this the easy way.” Sam says.

“That’s a shame.” You say, slightly tilting your head.

Your eyes turned red, along with a ball of red appearing in your hand. You threw it at him causing him to fall to the floor. You ran past him to find your other two targets.

“She’s going east now!” Sam says into his ear piece.

“I see her!” Bucky replies.

Bucky shoots at you. You quickly ducked to the floor to avoid the bullet. You chuckled and stood up with your back facing him.

“Got outsmarted by a woman, didn’t you, Soldat?” You say.

Bucky froze and his eyes went wide. The voice sounds all too familiar. It sounds like someone he knows. Someone from his past.

Steve rounded the corner and caught up to Bucky. He waved his hand in front of his face to snap him out of his thoughts.

“Bucky!” Steve shook him. “Did she do something to you?” He asks.

“N-No.” Bucky stutters.

Steve looks at you to see you facing away from him and Bucky.

“Turn around.” Steve orders.

Steve got his shield ready as you chuckled and turned around.

“You know, the last man who ordered me around, got thrown off of a building. I’m sure you don’t want that to happen to you, Captain.” You say, slowly turning around.

You looked up to see the two men with surprised looks on their faces. Bucky put his gun in the hostler and Steve lowered his shield.

“Oh my god.” Steve says, completely speechless.

“Y/N?” Bucky says with hopefulness in his voice.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, tilting your head to the side.

“Who the hell is Y/N?” You say.

Bucky couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His wife from the 40s was standing a few feet away from him. He slowly approached you which was a mistake on his part cause the next thing he knew was being thrown into the wall. Steve threw his shield at you, but you stopped it with your powers. It fell to the floor in front of you.

“Listen here, Captain and Soldat, but I’m not who you guys think I am.” You say.

Bucky stood up from the ground in time to see your eyes glowing red and a red light glow in your hands, making his eyes to widen.

“I was given a mission and I need to finish it. I’m sure you can relate to that, Soldat.” You say.

Before you could use your powers on them, you felt shocks to the back of your neck causing your body to tense up and lose consciousness. Bucky was quick to catch you before you hit the floor.

“While you two were busy dilly dallying with her, me and Sam got the file.” Natasha says, holding up the file.

Bucky moved your hair from your face to get a closer look at your face causing his breath to hitch in his throat and his eyes to tear up.

“What did they do to you, doll?” Bucky asks, talking more to himself.

Sam and Natasha furrowed their eyebrows in confusion as they looked down at Bucky.

“Doll? Barnes, do you know this woman?” Natasha asks.

“He’ll explain later. We need to get out of here.” Steve says.

Bucky stood up with you in his arms and carried you to the quinjet, holding you like his life depends on it.

A couple hours later, you woke up in a room that you didn’t recognize. You looked around the room, gathering your surroundings. Your eyes landed on a man sleeping in a chair next to the bed you’re in.

“Hello?” You say, raising an eyebrow.

Bucky woke up immediately. A smile grew on his face when he seen that you’re awake.

“Thank god you’re awake.” Bucky says relieved.

He reaches to grab your hand, but you backed away from him. You felt yourself beginning to panic.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He says in a reassuring voice.

You took a moment to yourself to think. You felt yourself starting to become overwhelmed, your breathing became uneven.

“Wh-Where am I?” You asked, looking around the room again.

“My apartment.” He tells you.

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to calm yourself down. That’s when memories flooded your brain. Visions of a man appeared in your mind. The man looks exactly like the man sitting next to you. You opened your eyes and looked at the man. There was a few different features about this man compared to the man in your vision. He has long hair, stubble, and a metal arm.

“I know you from somewhere, but I don’t know where.” You say.

“Take your time. It’ll come to you.” He says softly.

You took your time and thought. You kept thinking until your head started pounding by more memories flowing back into your mind. You put your hands on the sides of your head and squeezed your eyes shut. You jumped slightly when you felt a hand on your back, but you didn’t move away. When your head stopped pounding, you opened your eyes and looked up at the man with tears in your eyes. It didn’t take long for you to realize that the man next to you is your husband.

“Bucky?” You say in almost a whisper.

“It’s me, doll. It’s your Bucky.” He says with a smile.

Tears spilled from your eyes as you hugs him. Bucky pulled you onto his lap, holding you close to him. His eyes teared up. Bucky never thought he would get the chance to see or hold his wife again.

“I missed you so much.” You cried against his chest.

“I missed you too, doll.” Bucky says, tears rolled down his cheeks.

You sniffled and looked up at your husband, looking into his beautiful blue eyes.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was told to—” Bucky silenced you with a kiss.

“You didn’t hurt me.” Bucky says, looking into your eyes.

“I-I blasted you with my powers.” You say.

“It wasn’t you, doll.” He says, cupping your cheeks.

You shivered when you felt cool metal against your skin.

“What happened to your left arm?” You asked with concern in your voice while looking at his metal arm.

Bucky didn’t want to upset with the details of how he really lost his left arm so he came up with a different way to tell you what happened.

“I got hurt years ago and when I woke up, I had this.” He explains, showing you his metal arm.

Bucky watched as you carefully touched it, watching as your fingers traced the plates of it.

“I’m sorry for hurting your friends with my powers.” You say, feeling ashamed for your actions.

“They’ll understand that it wasn’t you, doll.” Bucky says.

“I didn’t hurt Steve, did I?” You asked.

“No you didn’t.” He says.

You smiled to yourself, knowing that you didn’t hurt your best friend.

“Is it ok if I see Steve and meet your friends?” You asked.

“Of course.” He smiles.

You got off the bed and followed closely behind Bucky while holding his hand as he led you to the living room where Steve, Sam, and Natasha are.

“Someone would like to see you guys.” Bucky says to them.

You slowly stepped out from behind Bucky and looked at everyone.

“Do you remember me?” Steve asks, trying his best not to overstep.

“How could I forget my best friend?” You say.

Steve smiles as you approached him to give him a hug. You looked at the two people standing next to him.

“I’m sorry for hurting you guys.” You tell them.

“It’s ok. We understand.” Sam says.

“Don’t worry about it.” Natasha says.

All of you talked for a while until you got tired and wanted to go to bed.

“I’m happy that I got my doll back.” Bucky says, making you smile.

You smiled and laid your head on his chest and played with his dog tags.

“I love you, Bucky.” You say sleepily.

“I love you too, doll.” He almost whispers. “Get some rest.” He says.

“Will you be here when I wake up?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Of course I will. I’m never leaving you out of my sight again.” He says, leaning down and kissed you passionately.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[notafunkiller]

how you get the girl

Summary: After Bucky rejects you in front of his friends and breaks your heart without realizing, you two finally confess your feelings for each other.

Pairing: neighbor!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: 18+, age gap (she is 25, he is 33), teasing, dirty talk, pet names, oral sex, nipples play, no condom (but they are both clean and the reader is on birth control), implied aftercare, no mention of y/n.

Word Count: 4.2K

story masterlist

Bucky Barnes masterlist

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

You don’t know how you manage not to choke when you hear Sam.

“You need to start dating, man!”

Natasha snorts, amused all of a sudden, leaning into you.

“Watch him get red.”

But you don’t answer her, a little nervous about how this will go. What if he agrees? Even worse, what if he’s already dating someone?

“You’re getting old.”

“I think you mean older,” Bucky tries to say, but Sam doesn’t seem to even pay attention.

“You are practically forty, man.”

Bucky immediately rolls his eyes. “I have a few years left until forty, Wilson. And even if I was forty, is that old now?”

You notice everyone, including Sam’s sister, listening to their conversation, and you feel like an outsider. You know all of them, you even came to their occasional gatherings, but you aren’t close to anyone but Bucky.

“No, but you’re not getting any younger.”

“You sound like a grandpa.” You watch Bucky a sip from his glass of water. “Plus, I have my girl.”

He has a girl?

Natasha turns her face to you and you make a great effort not to look back. She would see right through you.

“Oh come onnn, your cat doesn’t count!”

“Cat?” Natasha asks. “I thought he meant,” she points at you, finishing her sentence, and you gasp. You can barely hear what she’s telling you. “I thought you were his girl.”

You blush, you know you do based on how hot your cheeks feel, and you notice how everyone but Bucky stares at you. But before you can say anything, Sam snorts amused.

“Barnes could neverrr. Too young and sweet for his ass.”

“God, why are you so noisy? My love life is none of your business!” Bucky snaps and turns from Sam to Natasha as he speaks. “And of course she is not my girl. Does it seem to you she is my girl?” The sharp cold tone makes you freeze for a couple of seconds, and so do the others, completely shocked. It almost sounded as if he… maybe he is disgusted by the idea of you being his girlfriend. Ashamed of this moment and your own feelings, you look away.

“Alright, alright. Calm your tits down!”

You don’t hear the rest of the conversation, you block everything out as you stare at your hands. You’re on the verge of crying and you have to bite your cheek really hard not to. It’s embarrassing. But the fact that he actually rejected you without rejecting you makes everything harder to handle.

For a little while, you even pretend everything’s alright as you drink some water, but in reality, you can barely breathe. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom, excuse me.”

You leave as quickly as you can before having a breakdown right there.

You take a few minutes, trying to calm down and control your emotions as you wash your face. Your eyes are slightly red, but not red enough for people to notice. When you close the door, you jump seeing Bucky in the hallway. “Hey. Are you okay?”

He analyzes you for a few seconds, trying to make sure you’re fine. He knows you hate this type of interaction and attention, but he didn’t realize how bad it is. He should have punched Sam instead of talking.

“Hey. Uhm, do you mind if I leave? I don’t feel very well.”

He wants to say something, you can see by the way he opens his mouth and hesitates, and he decides against it, nodding.

“Sorry for going so suddenly.”

He shakes his head.

“Don’t apologize for this, let me grab our bags.”

“No, no. You should stay, they’re your friends after all. They missed you. No one would even notice I am gone.” It’s the truth, and the last thing that you want is to make him feel obligated to drop you off. You don’t want to be his burden.

“I would.” He immediately replies and sighs. “They would too, they like you even thought… I am sorry for ear-”

“It’s okay, Bucky.” You give him the fakest smile after interrupting him. It really is okay. He should have fun and not worry about you. They’re his group after all. “You should stay, you don’t have to drive me home, I promise I am a big girl, I can handle it.”

Bucky frowns. Once because you think he feels it’s an obligation and once for name choice. “What about James?”

“I… Everyone calls you Bucky so it just slipped.”

“I want to come with you, doll. Don’t worry about this, okay? And I really miss our babies.”

You try to hold back a wave of tears as you turn around. You can’t continue to fight him on this. “Gonna get my bag then.”

Bucky follows immediately and gives everyone a clear fuck you look. “It’s getting late, we’re gonna go now, thanks for the game.” He takes his phone from the table before leaning in a little more so he can curse Sam in his ear. “Fuck you!”

“Fuck you back, grandpa, “ Sam whispers as you awkwardly say goodbye and wave toward everyone. They are not to blame at all for your sensitivity.

Bucky fights the instinct to place his hand on your back as you walk in front of him, wanting to show you some comfort and at the same time be close to you. He loves to touch you whenever he can.

“Take care of her, Barnes,” Natasha says before you close the entrance door.

*

You keep your eyes closed a lot, just listening to his humming and the radio, for the whole ride.

He opens the passenger door and helps you out of the car as soon as you arrive, but there is clear tension between you. He can sense it right away. When you reach your floor, you hesitate.

You would usually spend a little more time together, especially since it’s still early, but you have no energy to pretend you’re fine and totally not about to cry because your feelings are not mutual. “I think I’ll take a shower and go to bed… so rain check?”

Bucky tries not to show he’s disappointed and scared when he looks up and nods. “Of course, I totally understand, and I am sorry again. The last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable. They were dicks.” He sighs, running a hand through his already messy hair. “Give Miss Bubbles some snuggles for me, please. And thank you for coming tonight!”

And he’s gone before you can reply, making you start crying as soon as you close your door.

Miss Bubbles comes to you, smelling your shoes and your pants. “Hey, baby.”

“Meow.”

“Just us tonight.”

Her wet nose immediately makes you smile when she presses it into your hand. “Missed you, too.”

Bucky can’t relax despite Alpine’s tries to make him give her attention. He took a shower, changed, but he can’t focus on anything. Evenings feel lonely without you and Miss Bubbles, as cliche as it seems. He hates how uncomfortable his friends made you feel today. It’s the last thing he wanted, yet it still happened. Sam is a good guy, but he should have known better.

Sighing, Bucky finishes making the hot chocolate and looks down at Alpine. “Gonna visit our friends tonight. Not sure if they’ll forgive us, but it’s worth a try.”

You know it’s him when he knocks on the door, but you have no time to actually make yourself look presentable. It’s clear you’ve been crying.

You open the door with a sigh. “Did anything happen?”

“Made some chocolate, may I come in?”

Alpine doesn’t wait for your answer as she finds her way inside the apartment.

“I’m tired, Bucky.”

He blinks a couple of times, noticing your red cheeks and eyes. “Bucky again?”

You open the door defeated. “You can come in, James.”

Grateful, he gives you a smile as you close the door.

“This is for you.” He hands you a red cup before he starts off his slippers. “But it’s really hot.”

“Thanks. It was not needed, I just felt a little tired.”

You’re not a bad liar at all, truth be told. You even sounded honest. But you know he didn’t buy it anyway.

“I am sorry for today.”

“You said that three times now.” You complain before sitting down on the couch, waiting for him to join you like he usually does.

“Well, I really am. I know you hate this…”

“Hate what, James?” You take a sip and you groan. He makes the best hot chocolate ever!

“The way everyone was talking… It was not polite or nice. They tried to tease me through you, and I am sorry on their behalf.”

“Tease you through me about what? I am very obviously not your girl, right?”

His ears get red instantly, and Alpine comes to sit on his lap. “I am sorry, Natasha is…” Your humorless laugh interrupts him. “Did you come here to reject me again, Bucky? Two times were enough, trust me!”

“Reject you?’ He places his cup on the table. “What?”

“James, seriously, stop! I got the message, you don’t want more, it’s fine. Just stop apologizing for this.”

“I did not reject you!”

“And of course she is not my girl.” You quote him, placing your cup down, too. “Of course! Because it’d be such a terrible thing. What did Sam say? Oh yes, too innocent and sweet aka too naive, young and dumb for you!”

“God, doll, please, slow down! And this is not… this is not what I think. It’s the opposite, but they had no right to put you in a place like that. If you were my girl, it would be obvious.” He’s talking quickly, trying to explain as well as he can.

“Get out, but Alpine stays!” You don’t know where this comes from, but you won’t take it back.

“What?”

“I said get out, I don’t want liars in my apartment.” Alpine jumps from his lap to yours as if he understood what you said and agrees. You’d rather be rejected than let him pity-talk to you.

“God, baby, I swear I-” He stands up. “It’s a misunderstanding. I didn’t say that cause I didn’t want you… I do, I think it’s obvious, but like… I didn’t want them to corner you any-”

“It’s obvious?” You snort, totally unamused. “Yeah, that you rejected me.”

“I did not!”

“You did.”

Bucky pauses and closes his eyes for a couple of seconds before turning more to you when it hits him. “I cannot believe we confessed we like each other like this.”

You pause, too, and Alpine meows annoyed. “You like me?”

“Obviously…” he groans. “Everyone knows it at this point.”

“Except for me! When were you gonna say something?” You ask, trying to keep your breathing under control. Is this really happening?

“I wasn’t… I’m not the best option.”

“Best option for what? I’m not looking for a new phone.”

“You are younger, and fun, smarter, sweeter… You are worth so much!”

So he thinks he’s not good enough for you just the way you think you aren’t good enough for him.

“And I like an old man.” You smile teasingly. “With long hair. Who gives the best hugs and is an idiot.”

You’ve been crushing on him for months now. You can’t believe how he didn’t see right through you, but you didn’t realize he likes you, either, so you can’t judge him much.

“Do you mean it mean it? As in serious relationship?”

“God, James, do I have to spell it out for you?” You grab his face.

“No.” He smirks, looking down. “And I am sorry, baby Alpine, but you’ll have to move.” He gently puts Alpine on the floor as she meows annoyed and grabs you, dragging you onto his lap. “I can’t believe you think I’d reject you.”

“I can’t believe you’d think about options…” She touches his face. “I liked you since I saw you in those pink shorts.”

Bucky laughs, remembering the moment. “You did not!”

“Oh, I did. Those arms helped a lot.”

He groans. “God, I felt like a creep that day… actually the whole week, I kept staring at your boobs.”

“Did you ever stop?” You tease amused. “You don’t like my boobs anymore?”

“Doll…”

“What?” You suddenly grab your boobs over your T-shirt and bring them closer to his face.

“Stop-” He closes his eyes, groaning. He cannot think straight at all, and his pants show immediately how he feels. You smile as you notice his erection.

“You’re already getting hard, so why stop?”

“I don’t want to do something too…”

“Too what?” You lean in a bit to finally kiss him. You’ve been waiting for ages to finally taste him, and he immediately answers, his hand wrapping around the back of your neck as you open your mouth.

“You taste so sweet,” you say.

“You taste sweeter, fuck me… I wanted to do this for a long time.”

“Who stopped you?” You don’t let him kiss you again, focusing on his neck this time. You wanted to leave hickeys there ever since you met him.

“My moral code.”

You snort. “You are not eighty, silly. Do I look like I don’t want it?” You push your hips toward his erection to make sure there’s no doubt in his mind. You’re so excited about this. It feels surreal.

“You seem like you want me.” He smiles. “Close to how I want you I guess.”

“I think more.” You place your hand on his chest in a heartbeat. “Wanna eat you whole.”

“Meow.”

“Not now, Miss Bubbles.” You groan. You love her a lot, but you’re about to finally get her daddy all to yourself.

“Meow.” It’s Alpine this time.

“I am gonna give them some wet food,” you sigh, getting off him. “You can… make yourself more comfortable.”

It doesn’t take more than a minute before you’re back with a smile. “So where were we?”

“We were kissing.” His hair is now free; his hairband on his wrist. You love his hair so much that you can’t wait to feel it properly under your touch.

“You look so hot.”

He snorts. “Thanks! So do you. God, can’t believe those pricks were right!”

You get back on top of him without thinking twice and kiss his cheek. “Stop thinking about them. Your dick doesn’t…”

“God, look at that mouth, you were tired of waiting for me, huh?”

“Yes, I was. Did Natasha tell you that?” You tease.

“They might have suggested I should make a move.” Your hum, your fingers finding their way under his shirt before touching his tummy. “Doll-”

“What? I really wanted to do this for a long time.”

“I did… do, too, but I don’t want to rush.”

That’s thoughtful. Very thoughtful.

“You’ve been my friend for months now, James. And I wanted to be more than your friend for months.”

“Same, but there is no rush, just so you know.”

“Well, you’ve already said that, and there is no rush. Unless you don’t want-”

He kisses you, interrupting you immediately. His hands go straight under your pants and panties to grab your ass.

“James!” You cry in the middle of the kiss. His touch feels so good.

“Hmm?”

“Thought you didn’t want to.”

“I want to, trust me.” He smiles. “But that doesn’t mean we have to.” Then he kisses you again. “We stop when you want.”

“Oh, come on, old man. Who told you I want to stop?”

Bucky squeezes your hips.

“Old man?”

“Yeah. Old and annoying,” you say before starting to take off his T-shirt, and he immediately lifts his hands.

“And horny for you “

“Not horny in general?”

“I don’t know. You’ve been on my mind for months.”

He’s been on your mind for months, too. Daily, you thought about him in any possible way.

“Dirty old man wanting to fuck a young, naive woman.”

“You’re into roleplaying?” He winks, blushing because of the way you phrased it.

“I am into fucking an old man on my couch.”

“What if I want to fuck you?”

You roll your eyes. “Your cock will be inside me either way.”

He laughs and takes ahold of your T-shirt, and just like that, before you can even react, it’s ripped and lying on the floor.

“James Buchanan Barnes!”

“Buchanan!” He repeats amused, but his focus is on your breasts, your hard nipples making it impossible for him to focus on anything else. “Oh God, these are so pretty and all mine.” He reaches out to grab them.

“Yours?”

He brings them together and lowers his head until his mouth touches them.

“James!”

His tongue is immediately on the skin, licking up and down until he finally has mercy enough to wrap his lips around one of your nipples.

You moan. “Good boy.”

“I’m your good boy, baby.”

That makes you groan again because this is too much!

“God, Bucky, you are so hot right now.”

“Just now?”

You smile. “Always, but especially in moments like this.”

“Oh fuck, do you have a condom?”

“I do, yeah. But do we need it?”

He lets go of your breasts and wraps his hand around your chin before he licks a spot right above your collarbone. “I won’t ask again, so are you sure?”

“I won’t change my mind, James. Now take your pants off, I want you in my mouth.”

“God, keep going and I will come in that-”

“Good, I want you to come in my mouth. And on these,” you grab your breasts again to drive him crazy. “Since you like them so much. And inside me.”

“All tonight?” He asked all shook.

“Why? You can’t get it up again, grandpa? One and done?” You know teasing him might not be the brightest idea since he can use it against you, but it doesn’t matter.

“I guess we’ll see.” He shrugs, not even trying to deny it. He gets extra points for not being offended. “Now take off your pants.”

“Just pants?”

He rolls his eyes. “I thought you wanted my come all over you.”

“I do, but I’m too lazy to-”

“Just tell me you want me to rip them.”

You gasp, getting off him. “Fuck you.”

“You will if you get naked.”

You take off your pants and panties, struggling with your socks a little, and when you turn your focus on him you see him sitting naked on the couch, waiting for you.

His hand is wrapped around his hard cock, but he’s not stroking it, his eyes focusing on you.

“You’re so fucking hard.”

Bucky laughs, shaking his head amused. “I thought you knew that.”

“Fuck you for holding back!” You complain and drop on your knees in front of him, taking him by surprise.

“You held back, too.”

“You seemed uninterested,” she says all defensive.

“See how uninterested I am?” He grabs his erection to emphasize his point, and you moan, touching the head with the tips of your fingers.

“Fuck.”

“Baby… let’s just-”

“Can you take off your hands?” You ask with a pout.

“What?”

“I really want to suck you off.”

It’s not a want at this point, it’s a freaking need. You have to do it, it’s an urge.

“And I really want to get inside you.”

You whimper annoyed. “Just a taste.”

“Just a taste.” He nods and takes off his hand, and just like that, your mouth immediately takes over as you wrap your hand around the rest of his cock while you try to take more in.

“Oh God, warn me, woman…”

You ignore him, fully focusing on licking his dick and not biting him. Breathing is hard as you gag a few times, but you try your best. You’re not used to it, especially since he’s thicker than you expected, and you’re nervous. You have no idea how he likes it and you can’t say you did it many times before. You just really want him to like it.

“Breathe, baby.” He moves the hair from your face, holding it in his right hand so he can look at you properly. “No rush.”

You start bobbing your head at some point, your fingers digging into his thigh.

“Fuck, do you want me to come in your mouth? Would you swallow for me or should I come all over your pretty tits?”

You scratch the skin of his legs as you bob your head faster, and he doesn’t need too much to come as he pulls your hair as nicely as he can.

“Good girl, my pretty baby.” He moans.

You don’t swallow completely as you finally let his still semi-hard cock out of your mouth, showing him your tongue.

“Baby, God…” He moans as you wait for a couple of seconds. “Want to swallow for me, pretty girl?’

You give him a wink before doing that, and Bucky feels he’s on another planet.

“You’re still hard.”

“And I am getting harder.”

“Good.” You smile innocently before you hug him, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. He’s so soft and warm, and he’s all yours.

“You are so sweet.” You feel his mouth on your shoulder. “I’m so fucking lucky.”

“I am lucky, too. You’re the sweetest man I’ve ever met.”

“What a sweet couple we are.” He teases.

“Yeah, dirty sweet.”

“I don’t think…” He hesitates, making you curious about what he’s about to say. There’s no way he’s rejecting you, so what is on his mind? “I don’t know how we’ll be apart from now on.”

“James!” You look at him emotionally.

“It probably sounds psychotic or weird, but…”

“Shut up!” Your fingers cover his bottom lip instantly, stopping him. “You are mine from now on, just so you know.”

He nods happily before kissing the tip of your thumb. “All yours.”

“Won’t you ask if I am all yours?”

He snorts. “Are you all mine?”

“Your cooking skills are amazing.” You let out a laugh as soon as you finish your phrase. “And a great hair. And I’m all yours.”

“All mine?” He lifts your ass a bit, and you gasp. “Would you fuck me then, ma’am?”

You giggle, moving your hand between your bodies to be able to grab his cock and position it at your entrance. “This is gonna feel so good,” you say before eagerly sliding down, making you both moan.

“S-so wet.” He groans trying to get further inside you. “You don’t even need lube.”

“Fuck me, James, you feel so good inside me.” You can barely whisper, as you start to move, testing for a little, trying to see what feels the most pleasant. His cock is not small, not huge, not too thick, not too thin, and it feels perfect.

“You held back for what?” You complain, using his shoulder for support, his hands on your hips to help you move better, too. “If I knew you liked me…” You moan, surprised when you feel his tongue on your breast.

“You know now. We trust each other… it’s perfect.”

“James…”

“Hmm?”

“It feels so… s-so good like this.”

“Yeah?” He smiles against your skin and thrusts again. “You like when I’m fucking you back?”

“Ihm.”

“You’re so wet around me, feeling like a glove. My perfect baby.”

His words make you feel dizzy. You match so well you can’t believe it “I’m so close.”

“Good girl.” He moans your name before licking your chest, leaving small bites everywhere he can. “I want to live inside you forever.”

“J-James…”

“So pretty, so lovely.”

He takes properly over movement as you stay still on top of him, clenching from time to time because you’re so close you feel him everywhere. The way he whispers how good you are, how great you feel, and how you should come, plus his teeth on your neck make you come after a while, and Bucky follows soon after that because of your loud moans. You’re both trembling as you come, your head falling on his shoulder.

“I feel so full,” you whisper.

“You are full, lovely.”

“Ihm.”

Your body feels heavy all of a sudden, sleepiness taking over you.

“Let’s get you cleaned.”

“But I don’t want to let go.” You complain, gripping him harder. You just want to stay there in his arms.

“Gonna carry you to the bathroom, how about this?” You open your eyes and you nod, so tired.

“Sounds good.”

The cats are waiting in front of the door when Bucky opens it with a hand while still carrying you. He walks past them, careful not to step on their tails, and goes straight to the bathroom, cleaning you with a semi-wet towel, then himself before getting both of you ready for sleep.

Good thing he locked up his apartment because he’s not going anywhere tonight. You fall asleep with Alpine on your pillow and Miss Bubbles on the chair while Bucky’s holding you.

[lovelybarnes]

Flustered 2- B. Barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, natasha romanoff, sam wilson, wanda maximoff warnings: flustered!reader, bucky teasing her. I haven’t written for him in so long i hope htis doesn’t suck about: flustered part 2!! requested

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You say it very matter-of-fact, yourself nearly believable. Metal bumps against plastic, narrowed eyes trained on collecting the last of your yogurt.

“Oh, no idea, huh?” Natasha accuses, crossing her arms against her chest. “You’re a liar.”

You scoff, glancing at her for credibility. “I’m not lying.”

Sam frowns, leaning in close to your face. You stare right back at him over your yogurt cup, bewildered.

“I can’t tell,” he says, disbelieving. He turns to Natashs. “Are we sure she knows?”

“She is right here,” you snap. “And she thinks you both are insane.”

“His effect on you should be studied at universities,” Wanda quips.

“What effect?” you cry, letting what’s left of your breakfast clatter to the table.

“Come on,” Sam starts, observing you closely with a hopeful smile beaming although obscured. “You know you turn into a dopey idiot when RoboCop comes around, right?”

“Don’t call him that,” you mutter, a little quieter. “And I do not. We’re grown-ups, Sam. Who are together. In an adult relationship.”

“‘M not saying you’re not,” Sam shrugs. “I just…” He squints. “I need to hear you say it. You can’t seriously not see it, I’m concerned.”

“I don’t need your concern,” you argue. “And I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“You’re a competent person,” Sam starts.

“Thank you,” you deadpan.

“Normally. And then… Bucky, like, smiles at you, and you get all… gooey.”

Your brows pull together. “What does that mean?”

Immediately, all of your friends fall into an array of “gooey.” Natasha stares up at the ceiling with doe eyes while Sam fans himself, falling over the counter. Even Wanda has cradled her chin in her palm.

“You guys are awful,” you declare.

“I should film your interactions,” Sam says in turn. “Are we awful… or are we accurate?”

“You’re awful,” you respond promptly. “And I genuinely can’t see where you’re getting this from because--”

“Hello.” Bucky.

The show begins.

He catches your eye and smiles, eyes crinkling in a promise that it’s genuine.

Your reaction is immediate, features melting like butter in the sun at his appearance. “Hi.” You straighten and blink fast, clearing your throat. “Hi. Hello, Bucky.”

He raises an eyebrow and says hello again, curved in amusement. When he says your name, it’s devastating. 

The others can see it happen, the moment your resolve begin to crumble in unsteady hands and trickle into Bucky’s. He sidles up next to you, familiar, wonderful heat kissing a bare stripe of your skin. Pathetically, you freeze up. It’s only for a moment because it’s him, because you’re overwhelmed, because your ribcage feels like it’s closing in around your heart, a shocking heat at the bottom of your stomach, but the team notices anyway, sharing a distinct look you can sense.

You turn to him, that line of itchy warmth crawling up your nose and into your eyes. He’s very pretty up close, eyes a green below ocean and smile a notch above cocky.

“You look nice,” he says casually, brushing his lips right below your eye.

“Thank you,” you breathe. He’s done this so many times, and not once has it dimmed your reaction. He looks at you like he’s proud of the fact and squeezes your hip. You feel as though he wants to kill you. “You.. you too.”

Unexpectedly, he dips down int the dip between your shoulder and your neck, his chin grazing your necklace. “Why’s everyone staring at us?”

You’re a little dizzy. With him, it’s like your surroundings are heightened and gone all at the same time, like it’s just you and him and the lovely sparks beneath your skin. You shrug. “They’re perverts.”

Bucky laughs. “‘Course. I already knew that. Don’t know why I asked.” He steps away from you in favor of the coffeemaker, but you’re stuck in the few seconds before, reminiscing on the heat of his skin sticky on your collarbone. Like a sweet, awful honey.

Natasha raises an eyebrow at you, you frown; you just get so caught up in his eyes.

“C’mon.” Bucky’s hand wraps around your wrist, tugging you from the kitchen and away from prying eyes. He has a mug in his fingers. One of yours, with a grinning Garfield dragging something along a faded white background.

“Do you know,” you start finally, standing close to him in the elevator, “that our friends think I act weird around you?”

“How so?”

“Gooey. That I go gooey around you.”

“Gooey?” he repeats thoughtfully, a canine concaving his bottom lip. “You? No.” 

“That’s what I said.”

“Good,” he says. “‘Cuz that’s ridiculous,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss you. As if expecting something, a hand goes to support the dip of your back quickly.

“Yeah,” you mutter indignantly, leaning into him. “Yeah…”

It’s love, you think. Prickly, overwhelming love that makes you want to hold his face in your hands and kiss him till you can’t breathe, and the cost of the image is the cost of the action when it comes to him.

He hums against your lips, grinning at you when you pull away. “You do this on purpose,” you accuse, its bite harmless with your breathlessness.

His pupils bounce between your features, his shoulders jumping with a shrug. “Dunno what you’re talking about.” He kisses you again, that same heat that stifles you crawling up his neck.

“Liar,” you croak.

Maybe, he thinks.

[shmaptainwrites]

Hi hi thoughts on Wilson dating a first responder who comes into the hospital time and time again after calls and such?

Also lemme claim this emoji 🧸

yayyy you picked an emojiiii hehehe and bestie this was so good i blurbed it 💀🫡 also it’s unedited cause i’m lazy

Pairings: James Wilson x GN!Reader

Warnings: mentions of gun shot wound, injury, surgery

Emergency

Wilson rarely found himself in the ER, but an easy way to get doctors moving around to places they weren’t used to going to was a nurse’s strike.

Today he was doing his “nurse-doctor rotation”, as they were calling it, in the ER. It was interesting working in the high pressure, fast paced environment when he was used to slowly forming connections with his patients and those who counted on him. Right now, he was probably just a blurry face to most.

“We’ve got another one coming in!” an occupied doctor called and Wilson rushed over, saying he would attend to it, gathering the information from the first responders to create a chart while they wheeled the patient in.

“47 year old male, GSW to the shoulder, went into V-fib on the way here, we shocked him and his rhythms are normal again.”

“Any preexisting conditions you found out about?”

“Penicillin allergy.”

Another doctor came to deal with the gunshot wound and Wilson kept scribbling down more information on the chart, but paused when the firefighter addressed him.

“You don’t look like an ER doctor.”

He looked own at his clothes, the dress pants and a button up with a tie and his white coat. They were right about that.

“I’m not usually,” he chuckled nervously. “You know the strike and everything.”

“Wilson, what are you doing!” Cameron came and took the clipboard from him. “I told you, you can’t be writing charts anymore, no one can read your chicken scratch, this is the ER, people’s lives depend on this.”

Wilson could feel his cheeks begin to heat up at Cameron’s assertions in front of the very pretty firefighter.

“Yo! Twinkle-Toes! We gotta go!”

You looked back at your crew and then back at Wilson, wishing him good luck with the rest of his shift before jogging back to the engine.

At least he wouldn’t find much of a chance to embarrass himself further and he thought it was a shame he’d probably never see you again.

—

A few weeks later…

“Did you get those patient files from Mercy? They were supposed to send them yesterday, but they’ve been delayed,” Wilson sighed, leaning against the reception desk.

“I don’t think they’ve come in yet, but I’ll double check, just give me a second.”

“You’re an angel, thank you,” Wilson flashed her a grateful smile which seemed to put her in a good mood which always sped things along.

“Hi, sorry, I’m looking for Winston Green. He was brought in a few days ago, firefighting accident. I’m his coworker, I just wanted to come visit.”

Wilson turned his head over to the voice speaking to the other receptionist and had to blink a few times to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

The pretty firefighter, just like the last time, only now in civilian attire.

You turned your head and noticed the doctor staring, a smile making it to your lips when you recognized him.

“Dr. Wilson, fancy seeing you here.”

“I could say the same for you,” he chuckled.

“Everything back to normal now?” you asked and he nodded.

“Back over in oncology. That’s where I like it. And you can call me James.”

“James,” you tested out the name, liking how it made him smile when you said it.

“I-I don’t think I caught your name. I mean I could call you Twinkle-Toes but I feel like that’s a workplace nickname,” he joked.

“Right, Isaac is always calling me that in front of people,” you rolled your eyes before properly introducing yourself. “I’ve gotta admit I didn’t think I’d be seeing you again.”

“Neither did I. I’m sorry it ended up happening because your friend is in the hospital,” he said sympathetically and you thanked him for his kind words just as both you and Wilson were given the information you needed from the desk. “I could walk you to your friend’s room if you’d like, it’s on the same floor as my office.”

“Sure, I’d like that,” you smiled and walked side by side with the oncologist, who eagerly asked you questions about your work and what it entailed.

You were both a little sad by the time you reached your colleague’s room so you decided to take the next step and see where it might take you.

“Hey, I don’t know if you’re free later or something, but I have the day off if you wanna grab dinner?” you suggested.

“Dinner sounds nice,” Wilson nodded.

You pulled out a pen from Wilson’s pocket protector and grabbed an old receipt from your purse, scribbling down your name number before handing it to him.

“I’ll call you,” he smiled, accepting the paper. “Maybe over dinner you can tell me how you got the name Twinkle-Toes.”

“Oh, I think that’s maybe more of a tenth date story,” you patted his arm and tucked the pen back into his pocket.

“You predicting there’s gonna be ten?” he asked.

“I think I’d like for there to be ten,” you smiled, and leaned in to kiss his cheek. “I’ll see you tonight, James.”

Wilson turned away to head back to his office with his hands shoved into the pocket of his white coat and a faint pink tint to his cheeks

—

Wilson wished he could say getting woken up in the middle of the night by a cane rapping on his door was an uncommon occurrence, but since his last divorce it seemed more and more regular.

He tiredly walked over to the door, unlocking it and pulling it open, seeing House standing on the other side.

“House, go away it’s 3 A.M.” Wilson groaned.

“Sorry, I can’t. Trying to avoid the team.”

“And you think hiding at your one friend’s apartment is going to do anything other than just make me suffer along with you?”

“Best case scenario, they leave us both alone, worst case, you get them to leave us alone.”

“No,” Wilson shook his head, “Best case is you leave and go home right now.”

“What is that shirt you’re wearing,” House deflected, noticing a difference in his friend’s sleep attire. “Is that a fire department shirt?”

Wilson looked down and nodded his head.

“Where’d you get it from?”

“Does it matter where I got it from-?”

“He got it from me.”

Wilson turned his head around and saw you standing by the hallway leading to the bedroom. You walked up to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek before looking over at House.

“So it’s your shirt?” House looked like he was about to have a field day.

“No, I got it for him as a gift,” you chuckled. “Any chance you’d be inclined to carry on this conversation another time? I have an early shift tomorrow.”

“You’ll answer all my questions?” he asked.

“Honey, I wouldn’t-,”

“Done,” you nodded and put your hand out for him to shake. “I run into burning buildings for a living, I think I can deal with some invasive questioning. Plus, you’ve met my colleagues they’re a handful and a half.”

“I guess I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it,” House winked and you wished him a polite goodnight before Wilson shut the door and followed you back into the bedroom.

“Be careful on your shift, okay?” he said once you were all curled up in his arms again. “I need to see how this thing plays out with House.”

“Glad you’re so concerned for my safety,” you teased and he shut you up with a kiss. “Sorry I came out, but I thought you could maybe use a hand getting back into bed.”

“You’re probably right,” Wilson sighed while sinking further into the bed. “He’s easier to negotiate with when you have something he wants.”

“He seems like an interesting guy, I’m excited to finally get to know him,” you admitted with a yawn.

“Really?” Wilson seemed surprised. House was an acquired taste for most, he wasn’t sure he’d met anyone who actually genuinely wanted to get to know him more after meeting him, well aside from himself.

“Yeah, he’s your friend. We don’t have to get along as well as you guys do, but it’ll be nice to know a bit more about him.”

Wilson kissed you one more time before encouraging you to go back to bed so you could get a little more sleep before your shift, having a feeling, deep down, you were going to be around for the long run.

—

Wilson often passed the ER on his way out of the hospital to get to his car. Today was no different, he had swapped out his white coat for a jacket and a scarf and was planning on going to grab something for dinner and maybe head over to your fire hall to drop in for a quick visit before going home.

“Hey, hey, have you seen a Dr. Wilson around?”

Wilson turned his head at the sound of his name, noticing one of your colleagues speaking to a nurse.”

“He works in oncology, he’s not usually-,”

“I see him. Yo James!” Isaac waved and he quickly made his way over to see what was happening.

“Isaac, what’s going on?” he asked.

“Look, man, there was a fire,” he started. “Twinkle-Toes and I ran back in to grab this kid that was trapped, but the structure was deteriorating and before I knew it I was pushed to the ground and a beam had fallen on their leg.”

“A beam?” Wilson’s heart sank to the pit of his stomach. This couldn’t be happening.

“We just came in, they’ve gone to surgery for it already. Everyone will be okay, but…just some recovery time I guess.”

Wilson could see how guilty Isaac felt so he felt the need to reassure him on your behalf. He knew it’s what you would have done, you were just doing your job and looking out for your friend.

“I-I’m gonna stay,” Wilson said. “I’ll keep you posted, okay?”

Isaac nodded and reluctantly went back outside to meet up with the rest of his team while Wilson went to talk to Cuddy about what OR you were in.

He felt a small sense of relief knowing Chase was presiding over your injuries, knowing you were in more than capable hands and while he couldn’t go into the OR, he would stand in the observation room until the procedure was completed.

“Chase, how’s it looking?” Wilson asked through the intercom.

“It’s a pretty bad set of fractures, but we’re going to set it with some pins and after some time and PT things should be all healed.”

“What about going back to work?” he asked, knowing how much your job meant to you, anxious to hear the answer.

“I can’t say for sure,” he admitted. “But if you keep a close eye and make sure all my post-op instructions are followed I’d say there’s a pretty good chance things will go back to normal.”

Wilson sighed in relief which made it much easier to wait until the surgery was done and meet you in a recovery room after calling Isaac to let him and your team know that you were okay.

When you awoke after the anesthesia has worn off, you smile a little at the sight of Wilson sleeping in a chair across from your bed, his jacket and scarf draped over the armrest. He looked so peaceful you didn’t really want to wake him up, but you knew he’d give you a hard time if you didn’t.

“Hey, you’re awake,” he grinned, rubbing his eyes awake. “How are you feeling?”

“Loopy,” you chuckled.

“That might be the morphine,” his hand came to hold your cheek, his thumb gently brushing across your cheekbone. “You had a pretty big fall. Or should I say a beam had a pretty big fall on you?”

“I’m alive, that’s all that matters,” you assured him. “And hopefully I can go back to work? Did the surgeon say anything about that?”

“Obviously not right away, but he feels pretty confident if you follow all the necessary PT and healing instructions you’ll be able to go back. Just can’t get away from running into danger, can you?”

“Why do you think I started dating you?” you teased and he laughed, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Of all the times you’ve come into the hospital I have to admit this is probably my least favourite,” he sighed. “Try and just bring us patients next time, don’t become one.”

“I’ll try my best, they don’t call me Twinkle-Toes for nothing,” you pinched his cheek. “I’m glad you were working that shift in the ER that day, though.”

“Me too,” Wilson reached over and gave your hand a squeeze, finding it funny how emergencies now made him smile.

[slightlyhopefulromantic]

a return to the monsters and mommies au designs, this time properly lined and in color! :D posted in the middle of the night just like last time though because i have problems <3 there are some small changes to these designs, but for the most part i was pretty happy with them so this was mostly just to give myself a color reference for them all lol

gonna ramble about small decisions i made below the cut, but its not necessary at all to understanding the designs! just wanna dump my thoughts somewhere :P

for the most part, the kids' designs are the same as i do them for normal canon, but there are some small differences. i've never really done a proper reference for their kid designs either though, so i guess no one would even notice LOL

freeman family: well, firstly - nick's last name is freeman in this au LOL but its easier to refer to him as nick close so people know who i mean as opposed to nicholas foster. usually, i draw nick close with blue hair (i think he goes through a range of colors, but blue is my default), but i do this because he does it to honor morgan. since she is alive here, instead, his default is pink because thats his favorite color to dye it! morgan and nick both have various bead jewelry because i like to have the headcanon that morgan is really into pony bead jewelry; this is also why all of my nick and nicholas designs have the same trans pride necklace, morgan made it for him :] both nick and morgan wear glenn's old clothes, both of them are wearing his shirts in this piece. aaand morgan has subtle heterochromia as a reference to the split timeline! she always has it, it doesnt just magically happen or anything, but its just a small nod to that.

wilson family: its real important to me that grant got his dad's exact coloration except for his gray eyes, which are all carol. why is this important? i dunno! its just interesting to me. also, carol doesnt usually leave her top buttons undone, but upon entering the forgotten realms, she unbuttons it because otherwise her shirt will pop open while she's doing things (to be honest, as a person with a larger chest myself, her shirt probably still pops open but it does help-!). usually i draw grant with a gay pride necklace, but since he doesnt come out pre-forgotten realms in this au, i tragically had to drop it. i miss my rainbow grant. please come home, baby.

oak-garcia family: i always forget to do mercedes's tattoos in my sketches because tbh i never know exactly what to give her. but! but. this time i just went for it. these tattoos arent necessarily set in stone, but i think theyre cute. the tattoo hidden by her skirt is an oak leaf for henry :] her gem necklace is also the same color as his eyes! her skirt is supposed to be, like, tie-dye or maybe more bleach washed, but i dunno how to draw that so whatever. the twins are, like, 100% the same as usual, i just gave sparrow a pink bead necklace instead of the multi-colored necklace i use for my default canon design lol. also, i think i drew the twins slightly too tall here, which is funny because theyre the only ones who are notably shorter than their mom HDFJKGHK

stampler family: i struggled a lot with what colors to give samantha, because i wanted her to have a bright color palette but not anything garish or patterned. originally she was gonna have a white shirt, but then i realized that would make it so all the moms had white shirts and i just couldn't have that LOL so i ended up landing on red for her! it matches with terry junior, so i thought that'd be cute :] terry's design is probably the most different from my default for him? which still isn't a lot but i swapped his dark blue flannel for a black undershirt instead. i cannot explain why i did this. it just felt right in the moment. i gave him a sweet revenge shirt instead of the usual black parade shirt i give him because... well. if you know, you know. and finally, terry gets a little concert admission bracelet!! i always do that, but i just wanted to point it out because i think continuing to wear an admission bracelet for ages after a concert is a very teen thing to do. i always felt so cool doing that in high school hehe

[nicoline1998enilocin]

I loooooove cats, so my request is for tony and fem reader, they live together (just dating, engaged or married, you decide) and reader is dropping hints that she wants a baby cat and tony pretends that he's not listening, one day he arrive home with a cute baby ginger cat with beautiful green eyes and she's so so so so so happy. She named him tony jr. (of course tony loved the name) and lots of cuddles with tony and their new baby cat please ❤️🐈

Making a new friend

PAIRING | Husband!Tony Stark x Wife!Avenger!Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 1.5K

SUMMARY | You've been dropping hints about adding a little feline friend to your family for a long time, but when it seems Tony doesn't pick up on your hints, you drop the subject altogether. That is until he suddenly shows up with a little ginger cat, just like the one you have told him about all this time.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Tony seemingly can't take a hint, tooth-rottingly sweet fluff at the end, implied smut (implied oral F&M receiving), light swearing.

A/N | When I read your request I couldn't stop thinking about puss in boots, so that's exactly what I envisioned the little fella to look like! I hope you enjoy this tooth rotting amount of fluff! 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 🩷

Divider is made by @firefly-graphics | 18+ banner is made by yours truly

You, Tony, and all the other Avengers are holding a little afterparty after one of his parties, and you're situated in Tony's lap. ''You know what I think would make our life even better? A ginger cat! They're so adorable and-'' is all you can say before Tony captures your lips with his.

He has heard you talk about that very same cat a million times by now, and he has definitely gotten the hint, but he's just waiting for the right time to surprise you with one.

''Hey!'' you say as you playfully slap his chest because he cut you off mid-sentence.

''What? Am I not allowed to kiss my beautiful wife anymore?'' he says, with a slight offense in his tone.

''Well... you can..., but it's not nice to cut me off mid-sentence,'' you say with a slight pout.

''I'm sorry, Pumpkin, I'll make sure it won't happen again,'' he tells you, and he seals his promise with another kiss which makes you melt into his embrace.

When you pull back, you turn to face Bucky, looking at him with a deadly serious face. ''Bucky? Can I please cuddle with Alpine? Because Tony won't give me a cat - which I think is very unfair!'' you say with a glare as you turn back to Tony.

''Alright, doll. I'll just get her real quick, so please stay where you are so you can cuddle her,'' he says before getting up with a huge smile.

''See? Bucky will let me cuddle with Alpine. But I still don't understand why I can't have my cat, and he does. You're married to me, not him!'' you tell Tony, who is trying his hardest not to laugh.

''For starters, he tried to kill me, and you haven't yet, so that's a good reason I didn't marry him. And secondly, I fell in love with you, Pumpkin, so, of course, I'm married to you,'' he tells you, and you calm a little at those words.

''Okay-'' is all you say before you hear the signature purr of little Miss Alpine.

''Alpine!'' you say, and you jump up, forgetting all about Tony's words.

You take the white fur ball from Bucky's arms and immediately snuggle your face into her. ''Hello, little one; I missed you so much!''

''You should really get her-''

''Shut it, Wilson. Don't give her any more ideas,'' Tony snaps, but you're too busy to notice it, all your attention going to Alpine right now. And if that wasn't enough, you're too drunk to remember this conversation the next day, regardless.

''Good morning, sleepy head,'' Tony whispers in your ear, and you groan.

''How much did I have to drink last night?'' you ask, remembering nothing from the party.

''Enough to be funny, but not enough to be completely blacked out,'' he says as he helps you sit up, the room around you still dark. He hands you a water bottle and some aspirin to help with your pounding headache.

''Please don't tell me I did something embarrassing...'' you sigh before taking it and chugging almost the entire bottle.

''No, you just cuddled with Alpine, is all,'' he says with an adoring smile.

''Oh, speaking of her, when are you finally getting me a cat? I really want one, and I don't think it's fair you let Bucky have her, but I, your actual wife, who you promised to love forever and always, can't have one. Unfair,'' you say as you cross your arms with a slight pout.

''If you don't stop that right now, you will never get one. I had half a mind to get you one soon, but now you're not getting one,'' Tony says.

''You were getting me a cat?!'' you say, and your hangover is completely forgotten as you look at Tony.

''Not anymore,'' he shrugs and gets up from the bed, but you quickly grab his hand, not seeing the smile forming on Tony's lips.

''I'm so sorry; I didn't mean it like that. It's just that I've wanted one for so long...'' you sigh, softly holding his hands as tears form in your eyes.

''How about this, we just pause this conversation for now, and if you're a good girl for me, I will get you something else you really want? And no, not a cat. I'm not ready for that kind of commitment,'' Tony quickly adds.

''Okay, but only if you shower with me and let me suck you off this time. You went down on me last time, so now it's my turn again,'' you say with a glint of mischief in your eyes.

''Deal!'' he says, picking you up and running to the shower with you in his arms as you shriek.

A few months passed, and here you are, still without a cat and still sad about it.

You're in the living room with your book, and Bucky walks in with Alpine in his arms, but when he sees you sitting there, he knows you could use some kitty cuddles.

''I just don't think it's fair...'' you sigh as you scratch Alpine between her ears. She decided that your lap was the perfect place to nap, and you weren't one to complain.

''Maybe Tony just wants to surprise you, doll. Wouldn't be the first time he goes all out for you,'' he says as a reminder of your wedding.

''You're right. But thank you for letting me cuddle with Alpine for now; I'm glad she loves me as much as she does,'' you say with a small smile as she purrs at you.

''No problem, doll. I'm just glad someone finally took the little shit off my hands; she's been keeping me awake all night,'' Bucky sighs.

''Honestly, I need to drop it and accept that I just have to cuddle with him and Miss Alpine over here,'' you say, knowing that letting it go is the best option right now.

But Bucky is right because Tony is planning a surprise, and it just so happens that your birthday is right around the corner, too.

The morning of your birthday is here, and you got woken up in the perfect way by Tony.

His first birthday present would be a couple of orgasms, and he couldn't wait to start. He crawls under the comforter, and it's a good thing you have a habit of sleeping naked.

He woke you up by eating you out first thing in the morning, and you jolt awake with a gasp as you feel his teeth nibbling between your legs, his tongue teasing you before you cum all over his face.

''S-shit, Tony! Yes!'' you scream out as the orgasm washes over you.

When he's done, he crawls back up for a deep kiss.

''Happy birthday, Pumpkin,'' he says with his deep morning voice, and you immediately melt into his embrace.

''Thank you so much, Babe,'' and you let yourself melt into his arms, the two of you cuddling for a little while before your stomach protests and rumbles loudly.

''Time for breakfast!'' he says, picking you up, and he walks out of the bedroom.

''Tony, no! Let me put on some clothes first!'' you say, and you wiggle out of his grasp.

You run back into the bedroom, where you pick out some lacy panties and one of Tony's shirts which is way too big for you, but they're very comfortable.

When you're changed, you walk towards the kitchen with a bit of extra sway in your hips as Tony follows you, practically salivating at the sight.

''Jesus, Pumpkin, you're going to be the death of me,'' he says in your ear as he pulls you closer.

You keep walking with Tony plastered to your back, and when you walk past the living room, you see a lot of decorations, presents, and, of course, all of the Avengers standing there.

''HAPPY BIRTHDAY!'' They all say in unison, and you don't notice Tony walking away to get your present.

Everyone gives you a big hug and extra birthday wishes before you turn around, finally noticing Tony is gone.

''Wait, where is-'' but before you can finish your sentence, you see Tony with the cutest little thing you have ever seen in his arms.

''Happy birthday, Pumpkin,'' he says softly as he walks over to you with a small orange cat in his hands, big green eyes looking up at you as he tries to meow.

''Please tell me I can keep him?'' you say as tears well up in your eyes. This is by far the best birthday you've ever had.

''He's all yours, Pumpkin. So, what will his name be?'' Tony asks.

''Tony Jr., of course!'' you tell him, and everyone laughs at the name.

''Perfect!'' is all he says before he softly kisses you, and you take the cat from his arms.

The rest of the day is spent with Tony Jr. on the couch as you slowly get to know each other, and you've fallen head over heels for the little fur ball.

''Happy birthday to me,'' you whisper, and the smile on your face isn't moving anywhere for the foreseeable future.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

PLEASE I NEED A HOBIE X DEADPOOL READER 😭🙏🙏

Idk I've been waiting for so long and no one came up with it I feel dumb

Anyways have a great day i love your stories ♥️😭

Pretty boy

Basically it’s the x-force, but everyone is gender swapped

You walked down the streets, thinking nothing of it really. It was supposed to be a chill day, with a few of your teammates.

“Why’d you call us here?” A tired and annoyed domino asked.

“Well, I’m so glad you asked, because we, my lovely team, are going to go out to… drumroll please… dinner!” You said, with jazz hands.

“You called us here… for dinner?” Domino asked, rolling his eyes in annoyance. He started to walk away when you grabbed his arms.

“Pleaseeee? C’mon.”

He looked at you again, and rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He sighed.

“And I invited weasel.” You pointed to her, she smiled.

“She’s not on the team-“

“Too bad, she’s my friend.” You said, wrapping an arm around her.

“This is dumb.” Shatterstar said.

“Well, I’m here to talk about something important, so let’s go.” You said, and started leading them all.

“Reservation for me.”

“I’m sorry, who are you?”

You blinked.

“I’m… you seriously don’t know me?” You took out your phone and started typing.

“Just tell the woman your name.” Shatterstar said, annoyed.

“Y/n Wilson..”

“Right.. well, you can’t really bring weapons in and stuff..” she pointed to your katanas, and all of your teammates other weapons.

“Listen, lady, we are heroes-“

“We’re not heroes.” Domino interrupted.

“Shh, I’m trying to lie.”

“Anyways, it’s impossible to not have heard of us and-“

꧁꧂

Meanwhile, on earth 2099, Miguel was rounding up three people.

“Pavitr, Hobie, and Gwen.” He said, looking at the three of them.

“This is a serious mission, so no goofing off or whatever.”

“Dunno whatcha mean, we never goof off.” Hobie snickered.

“Let me finish. These anomaly’s have been running around for years, and somehow have managed to stay off our radar. I need you to go, round them all up, and bring them in for questioning.”

“One of them, Y/n Wilson, or Deadpool, has healing powers, she’s extremely slippery and we’ve caught her once before she slipped away, stealing multiple watches while doing so.” He gave them the file of you.

You were holding a peace sign, while smiling in the pictures. Then in the other one, flicking the man off. Your mask was off, your suit was still on however.

“I like her.” Hobie nodded to himself when he got handed the file.

Miguel glared at him.

“Just don’t get distracted.” He said, and sent them off.

꧁꧂

“Alright, so it’s like multiple others?”

“Around 5, or 6. Don’t know if they’re all together though.” Pavitr said.

“5 or 6- some of these people are wayyy older than us, why’d we get sent for this?” Gwen asked, as they swung around.

“Y/n!!” They heard one person say. You were in your suit, eyes wide as people started to surround you all.

“This is gonna look great for my insta.” You nodded to yourself, taking out your phone and taking a picture with everyone in it.

Your first name was public, just not your last name.

“I was your 7000th follower.” One girl said, you laughed and you didn’t see the three spider people behind you.

“How many followers does she have?” Gwen asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Is her first name just.. public?” Pavitr said.

“So like barely a secret identity?” Hobie continued.

“Huh.”

“Well, we just have to wait until she’s away from all these people.”

“Looks like her teammates are going away though..” Hobie said, looking at Domino and Shatterstar going away, as Weasel stayed next to you.

“Uh, okay, we just focus on her and then-“

“No, you guys get them, and I will get y/n. I gotta plan..” he said.

Gwen and Pavitr looked at each other.

“All right, man. Whatever you say, just be careful.” Pavitr said.

“Yeah, she’s easy. I’ll be fine.”

Hobie followed you, taking his mask and suit off quickly so he was left in his regular clothes.

He pretended to not look, and accidentally run into you. You were scrolling on your phone as you talked to weasel.

“Yeah, and honestly-“ you were interrupted when someone touched your arm, you looked back quickly to see a guy. He looked at you, and quickly apologized.

“Sorry, wasn’t paying attention.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck with a small smile.

“Nah, you’re- you’re fine..” you said, he was attractive. And it made you.. anxious?

“Names Hobie.” His thick English accent clear as he put his hand out for you to shake.

“I’m gonna… go. Got work to do.” Weasel said, with a sly smirk. You shook his hand and looked back to weasel.

While you were looking, Hobie messed with his watch to see the message that Pavitr sent him and Gwen.

‘Got one of them, but he’s angry so you guys gotta hurry up.’

Hobie sent a thumbs up, and quickly looked back at you. He hid his watch back in his jacket.

“So, what’s the job?” You asked quickly.

“Wh- what job?” He asked.

“How much cash we talkin..? Cause last time I got screwed over honestly.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Just tell me the job.” You said.

“Uh… 1000, in cash, can get it to you tomorrow.” He said, now understanding what you meant. You did work for money.

“Depends what I gotta do.”

“Just gotta break in this guys house, get a file on his computer."

“Oh. Well that’s easy. I do those all the time.” You said, and pulled out your phone.

“You know the address?”

“No… but I know where it’s at.”

You shrugged “show me the way.”

He walked and walked, you got tired after a while and finally Hobie turned to an alley.

“The house is in an alley?” You cocked your eyebrow.

He webbed you up to the wall, as you groaned.

“Another one of you spider people? Seriously? Here I was thinking a cute guy just wanted me to do a mission for him or something.” You whined, and looked at the floor in defeat.

“Cute?”

“You’re not ugly.”

“You’re not so bad yourself. Seen ya files.” He snickered.

“You like them? Great pictures I think. That guy was an asshole. Seriously.”

“He’s even worse when you spend all day with him.” Hobie rolled his eyes.

“I feel bad for you. You could come with me. I’m not bossy.” You said, and looked up at him.

“While I would love to take up that offer, can’t, cause then boss man’s gonna hunt me down.”

“Who cares? All the spider people I’ve met are sooo stuck up. Cute usually, even the boss was cute, but stuck up.”

He looked at you again, and thought about it for a moment.

“Cute? He’s anything but cute.”

“Eh.” You shrugged. “You’re cuter.” You said.

Your voice was sweet, voice dripping in honey and he really just wanted to take off your mask. So, he walked towards you and sat next to you. He took off your mask, you were even more beautiful in person.

He stared at you for a moment, and he didn’t notice you slightly moving to him, and your sharp katanas moving with you. You moved your body to kiss him, his eyes widened but he kissed you back.

When he was distracted, you used your hands currently behind your back and moved your katanas, which ripped the webs.

You got up, and smirked as you walked away from the kiss.

You took out the gun from your hip, and pointed it to him.

“It was great, pretty boy. Hope to see you soon.” You blew him a kiss, before running away.

“Fuck.” He mumbled. Realizing the deep shit he was in. He had let you get away.

—————————————————————

Kinda wanna make a part two…

Tag list:

@enviinotes @rayis-psychotic @korizzybee @animechick555 @stupid-ninja @rreasonablydumbb @xxqueen-of-horrorxx @spidypunkk @criodzasn

@techta @1eonk @chipstermation6 @whosace16 @ @l-pandamatic-l

@spider-phoenix @zebralover @my-melo-gf @wiz-te-ria @tzuyuzzs @luvsaluv @mxkn

@deputy-videogamer @666kpopfan @jared-oranges @likelilac @jjkclub

@kitty-kei @blaxk-widow @hoesindifferentshows @lavsluvsu @lampylamperson @artsykerfuffleplus @notbluees @sp0kyzz @arlipooh @freeingrebels @ken-zah @blustalker @cursedbitchboy @romanoffswoman

@chaoticevilbakugo @hobiebrainrot

[exhuastedpigeon]

WOW WOW WOW what an episode! I have thoughts and feelings.

Henren! Thank god we got their story this episode. They're so endlessly giving and kind and loving and they've really passed that on to Denny.

Denny Wilson deserves the same kind of love Christopher gets from the fandom. He's such a great kid.

BuckTommy is so awkward and delightful and really has high school crush energy in the best way. I love it.

I do think Buck's falling into his usual dating patterns just with a man this time, but I'd love to be wrong about that.

Tommy is the first of Buck's love interest that I've liked the entire time they dates. He's funny, goofy, kind, gentle, and seemingly very aware of his own feelings and other people's feelings.

Even when they break up I hope Tommy sticks around as a recurring character because he's just wonderful.

Maddie and Buck's scene!! I loved how gentle and supportive Maddie was.

Eddie and Marisol are clearly dead in the water, right? Like she still doesn't have a last name. We know like 4 things about her.

It feels like she exists as a plot device, ESPECIALLY after the nun reveal. Here's hoping we get an Eddie Catholic guilt/repression arc!

The Buddie friendship moments!!! There were so many!!

THE HUG!!!

Eddie being so accepting and kind and loving to Buck when he came out.

Buck's exhale as Eddie left felt a lot like the exhale from last episode? Like he's relieved and seen by the most important people in his life and that's important.

I can't talk enough about the Buddie friendship moments from this episode. It's a reminder that their friendship is strong. It can withstand basically anything. They're always going to have each other's backs and call each other out on their bullshit.

Bobby as the team sounding board and father figure is still my favourite thing. Bobby is such a great character and I love when he gets one-on-one time with anyone, but especially with Hen and Eddie.

Hen and Athena's friendship is always so important to me. I love them. They're wonderful.

The ending!!!! Buck and Eddie showing up late, looking a mess? Maddie looking STUNNING? Hen looking like a whole meal in her suit?

I'm not going to survive the next three weeks.

[madwomansapologist]

A&W | tamerlane usher & william 'bill-t' wilson

Navigation | More Tamerlane Usher | AO3

synopsis: You were the new girl. A play pretend, for Tamerlane Usher. A way to satisfy his wife, for Bill. They just couldn't predict you would be Tamerlane's clone. Or that you would do them so well. [3,6K]

warnings: smut. prostituition. threesome. voyeurism. masturbation. p in v. cream pie. oral. fingering. tw: use of 'good boy' and 'so fucking pretty'. dom!tamerlane. switch!reader. female!reader. reader is described to look alike tamerlane.

Tamerlane Usher expected to see a new, different face when she opened her front door. "Sorry for being late," you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. With a delicate smile, you reached out to her. "You may call me Love."

But all Tammy saw was herself.

It was like facing a mirror. You weren't a clone, there were enough different traits and details for her to be sure of it, but you looked like another version of Tamerlane. Like someone's blurred memory of her.

Your hair was a little bit longer, but it was the same color and texture as hers. Your eyelashes were a little bit ticker, but your eyes shone in the same tone as hers. Your smile was beaming and unapolagetic, but your lips were exactly like hers. So different, and yet so similar.

Tamerlane thought about how she so easily can forget someone's face. How sometimes imagination take place over memory. She imagined if anyone ever thought about her, but only pictured you. Would Bill ever do that? After this night, would he think about Tammy and see her copycat instead?

"Love?" Tamerlane licked her lips, a smirk growing slowly on her face. She didn't touch your hand, just gave you space to enter. "We thought you had changed your mind."

After the Goldbug launch, the last girl warned she was moving to another city. Tamerlane couldn't just hire anyone. First: she has standarts. Second: she has a reputation. It took her sometime to find someone, and for those past few weeks she felt starved.

She was so relieved when the last girl told about you. After discussing with you through e-mail, Tammy knew you were open to most of her desires. Then it came the NDAs, blood tests, creation of a new bank account. And Pym's research about you.

When he called her 4am to only say you were clean, Tamerlane almost felt like herself again.

"I would never," you said as your followed Tammy. "The last girl send me the wrong address."

It was difficult to not look at yourself through any of the mirrors there. Althought, maybe you could just look at Tamerlane. She is your distorced mirror.

After she gave you the envelope with the payment, a man came out of the kitchen with a bowl of salad. And his face certainty weren't new for you.

Of course you knew who Tamerlane Usher was. It feels impossible to try to survive without bumping into something owened by a Usher or their partners. You knew her name, her brand, but not her face. As any smart rich person, she went out of her away to not be famous.

Maybe you could pass by Roderick Usher and not realize who he was. Madeline could be right behind you and you would never noticed. But that would never happened with William "Bill" Wilson.

His face is everywhere. Sometimes it feels like it's stalking you. So many products, banners, commercials. It's impossible to use Tik Tok and never had seen at least a second of his classes. Either because of his knowledge about health or how no one can understand how he is able to smile while working out, people know Bill.

Bill is the face of Tamerlane's empire.

And here was him, serving the table.

Everything smelled so good. And also looked so delicious. Even the salad. Distracted by the food, it took you a second to notice the mesmerized look on his face.

"Your hair," Bill murmured. He sounded uncomfortable. Almost ofended. He glared at Tamerlane. "You chose that wig?"

You reached out to him already expecting to be ignored as when you did the same with Tamerlane. "Hello, Bill. I'm Love," it surprised you when he grabbed your hand.

It was a stiff, reservated movement. But you still feel like he saw you as more than the thing that will spicy the night. Like when you act as polite as you can with an worker because you want be sure that they will understand you see them as human beings. The quick gest carried some sort of companionship.

You both are working for Tamerlane tonight.

"That's my hair..." You touched a strand of it, twirling it on your hand. You tried to sound unsure, insecure. "You don't like it?"

Bill hesitated. Normally they ask Tamerlane if she liked what they chose, not him. Those girls could make him bleed and they would still ask Tamerlane if they should keep going. It never is about him, Bill don't want it to be about him, so why bother? But you held your gaze on him, waiting for an opinion, and so he had to came up with one.

"Is just that," it was almost a whisper. Bill put his hands behind his back, and for a second ignored your gaze by looking at Tammy. "You both are identicals."

"I don't think so," you said, touching your lips lightly. By his tone, you couldn't say if it was a good or a bad thing for him. You turned to Tammy, who was pushing a chair for her, and then went back to Bill's eyes. Your smirk surprised him. "My clothes are cheaper."

That made them smile. You unbuttoned your black coat, and Bill took it from your hands. Even from behind, you could feel him staring at you. Staring at your emerald dress.

Tamerlane, already sat on her chair, saw you giving her a little spin. That made her breathe in. She could already feel her womb warming up.

You both were matching.

"I thought we should start with dinner. Let's do a celebration, maybe a birthday. Just eat, drink, enjoy one another. Do you drink wine? Good. We'll talk about the rest later."

Bill pulled your chair. You sat at the beginning of the table, and held his hand before Bill could get away from you. Carressing it, you felt the warmth of his skin. "I'm so, so sorry for being late," you whispered. "I really am."

"That's fine," Bill finally said after a few seconds of silence.

"I can see you worked a lot. Everything looks amazing." You put your head in between your hands, watching Bill sitting beside you. "I love when you cook for me. It makes me feel like I'm part of a team. Our team."

Unsure of how to proceed, Bill looked at Tamerlane. He waited for instructions, maybe just as controled by Tamerlane as you. Her eyes were approving, so he turned back to you with more confidence.

Bill think it's so funny how he was turned into a puppet by her hands. Who would imagine that he would ever bend like that? Love really fucks people up. At least his love for Tamerlane did fucked him up.

He would do anything for her. Anything to keep her. Including this. If she needs that, so be it.

"I feel the same," and Bill really wasn't lying. He just wasn't. "Makes me feel part of something."

Tamerlane slid against her chair, intrigued by how this was going.

You grabbed his hand, and he carressed yours. "We against the world, right?"

Bill smiled. "Always."

You knew he was beautiful, who could ignore that fact, but he was so much prettier from up close. So sweet. For a moment you just watched him, and you also felt like he was watching you.

"I almost forgot," you walked to where he put your coat and searched for something on the pockets. "The real reason why I'm late."

You came back with a white, tiny box in your hands. You settled it in front of Bill, and took a bite from the plate he made for you. "Perfect, as always," you licked your lips and tapped the box twice. "C'mon. I want to see your reaction."

He took it on his hands, feeling how light the box was. When he opened it, he saw a hand watch. "Did you liked it? It's so difficult to gift someone. What can I give to someone that can have anything? There are so many things that can go wrong. If you didn't, I can just..."

"I loved it," Bill stopped you. "But I don't have anything for you."

You took it from his hands, and opened to put it around his fist. "You don't need to." Your hands stayed against his forearm, strucking it lightly. "You're more than enough to make me happy."

Tamerlane was already dripping.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Tamerlane told you both to wait while she made sure everything was ready and set. You finished your glass of wine, the only one you drank that night, and got distracted observing the room for long enough to forget you weren't alone.

What remind you of that was noise coming from the kitchen.

You walked slowly, so carefully that Bill didn't even saw you. But you saw him. He bend over the sink, searching for something that looked like a medicine box, murmuring something to himself. And when he found, you recognized the blue pill on his hand.

"That just broke my heart, big boy." The way Bill got startled made you smirk. "I'm not pretty enough for you?"

Alone, you could see how he was more relaxed. Maybe calmer. Near his wife, Bill needs to lie. Near you, he don't need to. Even thought you know that this dinner wasn't entirely a play pretend, it was still one.

"You're not the problem," he murmured.

"Then what is the problem?" You whispered, stepping closer to him. "Don't tell me you gonna fuck a woman for your wife and not even enjoy it?"

"That way is easier for the both of us," Bill whispered, mirroring you. "None of us wants to be here, let's just get it done already."

You held his hand before he could put the pill on his mouth. "You think I don't want to be here?" You got even closer. "That I don't want to be near you?"

Bill didn't knew what to say. He just agreed.

"I can't wait to make you feel good. To make sure you won't have time to think those stupid thoughts. You won't worry about anything else." Carressing his chest, you felt how stiff he really was. How nervous and uncomfortable that whole night has been for him. What a shame. A man as pretty as him don't deserve to ever feel that way. "Because that's what I do. That's what I love to do."

Your hands massaged his shoulders, then his forearms. "So tense," you grabbed Bill's hands and kissed his knuckles. Not even once you looked away from him. "You can pretend I'm her."

Calmly, you slid your fingers against his. Just playing with his skin, letting goosebumps on him. "I won't be ofended. If it's easier for you. It's easier for her, that I know."

Bill whimpered, and you never before wanted so bad to break someone. To take this mask Bill use, his all put together way, and smash it against the ground. To see him wide, unapolagetic.

You bite lightly his middle finger, just to mess with him, before you straighned up your posture. "I promise not to say a damn thing. If it makes it easier. All you need to do is to closer your eyes."

Tamerlane's heels made you look away, but you kept on holding his hand. "Can you do that for me, big boy?" You turned back to him, a ghost of a smile appearing on your face. "Can you fuck me like I'm yours?"

"Everything alright over here?" Tamerlane announced herself.

You blinked at Bill before turning to her. You gave Tammy another beaming smile.

You followed her to the bedroom, the tension rising. You could feel Bill watching you, his gaze burning your back. When Tamerlane locked the door, you took a deep breath.

"Since it's our first time, let's start slowly," Tamerlane walked toward her armchair. "Bill, help her take off her dress. I want you both to kiss, it don't need to be romantic, and then lie on bed with her on top. We'll see how it goes."

You stepped towards Bill. "You like when I wear green?"

"Yes, I do." Bill was more eager to answer this time. Maybe it has something to do with the way you made him unable to look away while you followed Tamerlane.

"I like it better when I'm wearing nothing. And you?"

Tamerlane unbuttoned her pants, unable to look away. This was... different. No one ever bothered to talk. To continue this act no matter what happens. She was salivating.

Bill held your waist, and he did so with force. You felt fingers brush against your ribs, moving up to brush against your breasts, squeezing the flesh of your waist. His gaze alone seemed capable of tearing your dress.

You turned around, and Bill pulled you against him. That felt so right. You took a deep breath, holding his hand against your body. You rubbed against him, feeling him through his pants, and smiled victoriously.

“The zipper,” you whispered.

Bill opened it calmly, noticing every inch of exposed skin, his finger brushing against your back. The dress fell off. You stepped out of it, and kicked it towards Tamerlane.

She smirked.

You were fun.

Which meant she was fun.

Bill grabbed your waist again, but without the dress the touch felt so new. You both just kept like that, as if it was a normal thing for the both of you, until you chose to turned around. You knew you were putting on a little show for the both of them.

“Kiss me,” you commanded. As if it was you the one ordering that. As if it was your idea, not Tammy's. As if you were her. You promised Bill to make him believe you were Tamerlane. You always keep your promises. "Now."

And Bill did as you wanted him to. As you ordered him to.

It was raw. Famine. You felt like Bill was trying to taste your soul. To hold onto it and never let it go. Bill kissed you like he was a starved man, and you accept him like a sheep waiting to be sacrified. And still, you weren't a sheep. You couldn't be one. Not if you want him to see you as Tamerlane.

Tamerlane is a wolf.

You pulled him by the collar of his shirt, not bothering to be gentle. You held him like Bill was yours, which meant that for tonight he would be. You pushed him, causing Bill to stumble back. He gasped, just like Tamerlane.

"Sit down," you demanded.

Bill couldn't think straight, his mind confused from the wine and the desire for more, so you pushed him hard. He fell onto the bed, staring at you from below as if you were a sight he had never seen before. "Is it so difficult to obey me?"

He shook his head. "No," he felt the need to repeat.

If you were Tamerlane, he would never be so needy. You would satisfy him whenever you could. But you can understand her side. There's nothing as beautiful as a giant man smelling like desire.

“Take off your shirt,” you ordered. This time he obeyed. As Bill threw his shirt away, you caressed his chest. So much more delicate than the push, so much more certain than the provocations exchanged in the kitchen. "Good boy."

You sat on his lap, and carefully laid him on the bed. You nibbled his lip, licked his thick neck, scratched his pecs. You slid your hand down his pants, knowing well that Bill was looking at your exposed intimacy, and felt his dick. Getting hard.

Even with tissue separating your skin from his, you knew he was big. That made you drool.

Tamerlane had already thrown her pants away. Her shirt was unbuttoned, her bra lost on the floor. She continued to wear her panties, just because she liked the feeling of them rubbing against her hand.

You grabbed Bill's hand and placed it on your waist. "Squeeze," and he did. His hands roamed your body, and you began to rub yourself against his growing bulge.

You opened his pant, and smirked when you saw his cock. "Say please," you hissed.

Bill swallowed. He squeezed you, his nail digging into your skin, but it was a good pain. "Pretty please," that made you want to get him inside your mouth. Make him melt against your tongue, choke on him until your eye burns, let him occupy your mouth for the rest of the night. But Tamerlane said you were supposed to be on top of him, and you weren't going to disobey her.

You sliding your hand up and down, and saw as Bill closed his eyes. You pushed your thumb against a vein, following it until his most sensitive point. And Bill was indeed sensitive. How long has been since he was last worshiped?

"Tammy," Bill moaned. And when he did it, Tammy let a whimper escape her throat. You stopped breathing, filled with a sense of pride. Bill whispered sweet nothing, chills went down your spine.

When you took him inside you, inch by inch, Bill shuddered. He grabbed your body, scratched your skin, moaned Tamerlane's name. You squeezed your walls, and you saw when Bill lost control. When it was too good to think.

You didn't look at Tamerlane. You could feel her gaze burning you, you knew you only had to look in any of the mirrors to see her, but you didn't dare. You only heard the moans, the wet sounds that her pussy made. That added to Bill inside you almost made you lose control.

Almost, because you wanted them to lose it sooner.

Bouncing on his dick, Bill spread his thick muscular legs. You were surprised when he lifted his torso, pulling your body close, but his mouth against yours silenced any exclamations from you.

Bill held his back, and without any effort he changed the position. Him on top, your legs pinning him against you, his forearms resting on the bed. That kiss was more than anything. He devoured you. And he did it so well you didn't even remember that you were supossed to be on top of him.

Tamerlane also forgot about that.

She just imagined herself in your place. She imagined herself commanding, demanding, mocking him. Tamerlane imagined herself making him feel so good that she would need to remind him to touch her, to look at her, to breathe. And then Tamerlane found herself being overpowered. Being thrown on the bed because Bill felt so much pleasure that he simply needed more, he needed everything she could give him, he needed it even if it meant disobeying her.

And when Bill whimpered Love, when he moaned your name while fucking you so good, she imagine herself between you both. She imagined her fingers deep into you, feeling how warm and wet he made you for her. Tamerlane imagined Bill kissing her the way he did to you, with your hands tucking on her hair.

Bill brushed the hair out of your face. "So fucking pretty," he murmured against her mouth. You opened your eyes, your mouth turning in a soft smile, and you felt tears forming on your eyelid. Bill was even better than you imagined. "You're mine," he growled. "So fucking mine."

His digits found a home in your pussy, spreading your arousal against your clit. Your nails entered his skin, and with a little more force you would be able to make him bleed. And it was at that moment that Bill came apart inside you.

He filled you, made you complete, all while moaning against your face. You trapped him with your legs, leaving him even deeper inside you, and only then did you have the courage to look at her.

Tamerlane couldn't keep her eyes open. Couldn't see it. She felt so good, so soft, so on the edge of an orgasm that she couldn't control her body. Her arm burned, her fingers curled over her clit, but she couldn't stop. She couldn't do anything but continue.

So when she felt a soft tongue against her pussy, the moan sounded too much like a scream. But she opened her eyes, saw you kneeling, looking at her with so much desire, and thought of nothing but to continue. As well as letting you lick up every drop of her. Letting you make her feel as good as you made Bill just a few seconds ago.

Tamerlane imagined his cum dripping down your legs. She looked up, and saw Bill recovering on the bed. She saw his smile, the way he looked deep into her eyes. And she saw that he was happy. Really happy.

Tamerlane squeezed her hair, guiding your tongue tightly against her. She replaced her fingers with yours, and in no time Tamerlane came looking right into Bill's eyes.

He was hard. Again. Sitting on him, your back against Bill's sweaty chest, he fucked you deliciously. Again. Tamerlane licked your breasts, bit your nipples, rubbed her hand against your pussy in such a dirty way. Such a good way.

Embraced by them, you felt so right. Like you were at the exactly place you should be. Like everything in your life led you towards them. Or maybe it was just the second orgams coming.

When Tamerlane woke up later that same morning, the first thing she saw was you between them both. Bill sleeping peacefully, hugging you from behind with his hand resting on Tamerlane's tight.

And she just went back to sleep.

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[zeroducks-2]

I love your new ask chart you made—How does 30, X, and Sladick sound??

Hi guys ♥♥ thank you so much! I hope you don’t mind that you got lumped together!

30. Tortured together + C. “Let me have this one” + X. “It’s so cold” - Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson

(TW: blood, non-graphic torture, needles, long post)

Dick dangles from his chains like a dead body would, not an ounce of strength in his arms and not the faintest attempt of balancing on the balls of his feet; he just hangs heavily and Slade feels like a part of himself is seeping out of him at the same rate as the kid’s heart pumps blood out of his wounds. 

Slade hadn’t initially been worried about his own capture. Not the first time it happens, likely not the last. He has a lot of enemies with a lot of resources, he’s been held captive by superheroes and supervillains alike and he knows he’ll get out. But then they brought in Nightwing, bloody and battered to the point of being hard to tell it was actually him, but Slade would recognize him even if he was zipped up in a body bag. They hung him by the wrists to that cross-like structure, not unlike the one Slade is strapped to, and a registered voice announced that watching the boy die was going to function as retribution for the blood Slade had spilled. They provided names and surnames of who the blood actually belonged to, but it’s not like it mattered anyway.  

It’s against Slade’s protocol to show that he cares about a hostage, but it doesn’t look like he needs to show anything here; he and Dick have been kept close, so close in fact that Slade has been able to pick up the way the kid’s breathing and heartbeat change, the subtle glances Dick has been sending him from time to time, and even the smallest twitches and jerks his body made as he kept taking beatings and pain. 

It’s been… a while. Slade is not sure how long. They douse both of them with icy cold water every once in a while, but there doesn’t seem to be a pattern. They never unbind their arms and a needle taped to Slade’s arm constantly pumps him full of a foul dark thing which inhibits his metagene, takes away his strength and keeps his head foggy enough he can’t think of a plan… but. But his healing factor hasn’t been inhibited entirely, and his skin has been slowly but consistently pushing the needle out while regenerating. It is out now, still hidden by the tape, and Slade is sobering up and his strength is returning, soon he will manage to break free of those chains. But he doesn’t know when “soon” is exactly going to be, and right now Dick is dying. 

Someone walks in and it’s like they know exactly what is happening because they are uncapping a syringe, dangerously looking at Dick while they’re at it.

«I suppose you would want to say something to him.» The young man announces, regarding Slade with an emotionless expression like whatever was alive and vibrant inside of him just withered off at some point. «You robbed me of saying goodbye to my father and sister. But I’m not like you, and I will grant you the chance to say goodbye.»

Slade remembers that contract. He won’t focus on the details now but it was a nasty business… the sister in question was a chemist selling her produce to the highest bidder, which then distributed it to various drug lords of three major cities of the east coast. The father was… a collateral victim. It doesn’t really matter now, he’s killed very many people for very many reasons anyway.

«So, any last words you want him to hear?» The boy insists, eyeing an unconscious Dick for a brief moment. «He might not actually hear them, but he’s going to be dead soon. You might as well try.»

Oh, they’re just trying to humiliate him, Slade knows. This is not compassion. «I don’t have anything to say to him. I have something to say to you.» He comments in the flattest tone he can manage. «Let me have this one. He’s been tortured enough while I have barely been touched. I won’t die with that injection, you and I both know this… it is going to hurt me though, a lot. Give it to me.»

«You don’t understand, Wilson. I want you to watch him die. You’ll-»

«You’re a chemist too. Just like your sister.» Slade insists, sharpening his eye. «You know this will not kill me if you inject me. It’ll just make the torture longer and more painful, which is exactly what you want.»

The young man seems to consider, or anyway uses some more precious seconds to think about it. «And why would you want to prolong the torture. You know both you and him are not going to get out of this alive.» He turns to Dick again, then back to Slade. «If I were you I’d just allow him to stop suffering now.»

«Because,» Slade licks his lips, they’re chapped but his mouth is as dry as it can be, so the gesture doesn’t yield much. «As long as he breathes I can hope that you will change your mind and let him go. And I’d prefer to hope for one more day.»  

Something shifts in the boy’s expression, and the dull emptiness of his eyes grows anguished for a moment. «This might actually kill you.» He says and tilts the syringe. «It probably will. I am indeed a chemist but my sister was the genius, and this toxin she crafted could flat-line any meta.» He takes one small step towards Slade. «Do you still want it?»

«Yes.» Slade replies, not even startled by how he didn’t really need to think about it for a fraction of a second. 

«Are you sure? He’s most likely going to die anyway. And I’m not letting him go even after you’re dead, Wilson.»

«Just give me the goddamn injection, boy.» Slade hisses between gritted teeth, muscles flexing in the restraints that don’t break, he doesn’t have his strength yet. «Come on.»

There’s a beat of silence, then another. Then the young man nods, very vaguely but he still does, and lifts the syringe more while taking another step towards Slade. The idea of watching him die a very painful death has to be too enticing, exactly as Slade was hoping. And then Dick is raising his head, his only visible eye open wide, something wild in the bloodshot and blue. In the quickest, most fluid moment Slade has ever seen he pulls his lower body up like he had no weight, and locks both legs around their captor’s neck, yanking him back and away from Slade. 

«No!» The mercenary yells as the struggling man chokes, digging nails into Dick’s thigh with one hand, and trying to stab him with the syringe with the other. But before he can manage there’s the telltale dull crack of bones snapping, then his arms grow limp and fall down, and then both him and Dick drop. The latter is still dangling from his bindings while the former hits the ground with a thud, his neck bending unnaturally. 

It takes five more minutes for Slade’s strength to return, enough so he can break free of his own restraints. He’s still way weaker than he should, his muscles are numb from lack of use. He forces them to work anyway.

«Talk to me, Grayson.» He grunts as he holds the kid to the chest after breaking his restraints as well, forcing himself to give a quick check to his wounds and patch up the most severe ones, or Dick isn’t going to survive their escape. There’s a muted mumble in response but Slade hears it anyway, and he thinks Dick just said they should be on a first name basis at this point. He snorts despite himself but it sounds choked like he was about to cry. «We have been for a while now, haven’t we…» He replies, stripping pieces of the dead man’s shirt for makeshift bandages, making sure Dick’s wounds stop bleeding. «You need to stay with me now, kid. Can you do that?»

Dick nods. His face is swollen, cut and bruised, he’s barely recognizable, and Slade prevents himself from holding him too tight because his kid is in so much pain already. He should really stop feeling like crying, though. «Talk to me.» He repeats, carefully pulling a black lock from Dick’s forehead. 

«’s so cold.» The other murmurs through split and chapped lips, and Slade doesn’t manage to stop himself any longer and hugs him to his chest, his body is indeed so cold. He’s lost so much blood. 

«I know, little bird.» He says to the side of Dick’s head, breathing in and out and pulling himself together. «Let’s get the hell out of here.»

Here's the ask game! Feel free to prompt me again or reblog it yourself.

[dumbfloweralive]

Mystery Hack

Chapter 1: Welcome to Mystery Hack

Connor RK800!machine connor x Reader

Warning: Conspiracy theory, smoking, drinking.

27 January 2039

Connor knocked on Kamski door, his new partner waiting beside him. After the android revolution and his success in the case and to stop the revolution, it cost him an upgrade, making him part of the FBI to keep investigating on the deviant.

This morning, while studying the default program, Connor had found a cryptid code hidden behind line of coding. It had taken him the entire morning to process everything and understand the logical behind it, but when he saw what was written, his program almost broke.

“RA9” was written, appearing in all the programs he had run. Even in his program. It was like a taunting revelation. 

So, Connor had contact Kamski who accepted is meeting without thinking, even after what happened last time. 

Chloe had opened the door, leading them to Kamski. And this time, Connor would get the information he wanted.

“I certainly didn’t expect to see the deviant hunter again. Where’s your partner?” Elijah Kamski said, his head pointing to agent Wilson.

Connor knew he was referring to lieutenant Hank Anderson. He felt a pull in his thirium pump, playing a quick self diagnosis.

“We do not work together any more” Connor admitted.

He chased the thought of that night away.

“We have a few questions for you.” Agent Wilson said, showing him the FBI insigne.

Kamski invited them to sit, asking Chloe to serve the agent.

“What do you want to know?”

Connor leaned forward, his hand joint together.

“I’ve made an interesting discovery. A line of code named RA9 is present randomly in every android program. Even mine.”

Kamski didn’t seem to react, letting him continued.

“During our research, we’ve noticed an occurrence between each deviant. They seemed obsessed with RA9. You coded every android, they are all based on your work. What do you know about this?”

Kamski leaned back on his chair, sighting. He looked away, probably thinking of a way out for himself, Connor thought.

“I don’t know anything.” He said, exhaling sightly.

“You must know, you’re the creator.” Connor continued.

Another sight. 

“I have a Wozniak.” he said, a smile on his face, looking away.

Connor frown. 

“What does it have to do with the case?” Agent Wilson asked.

“I am not the only programmer. I never was. We were two behind cyberlife creation. I am Jobs, Y/N is Wozniak.” He said, explaining his analogy.

Connor stayed silent. Cyberlife never mentioned her. In all his rapport, all the discussion, no one mentioned her. Kamski seemed to noticed Connor thought.

“They never talked to you about her, right?”

Kamski scoffed when Connor signed no with his head.

“No wonder. They hated her. She was smarter than me, a genius, but her idea weren’t exactly what they wanted. Everything i did she improved it. She worked on you before cyberlife forced her way out.” He continued

Connor thought of it. He only had one creator, at least, that’s what Amanda told him. If she had been lying about this, what did she keep away from him. They were no records of her in his program and cyberlife didn’t mention her anywhere. But the media did. And his analysis on Kamski revealed he was speaking the truth. Why were they hiding this from him.

“That would totally be her work if you want my opinion.” Kamski said, seeing Connor’s led flashing yellow.

“Where is she now?” Connor asked, raising from his seat.

The cocky smile Kamski had faded, falling into a thin line as he looked away.

“I don’t know. She disappeared two years ago.” He said, his voice lowering.

Once again, he was saying the truth. He doubted he would get any further information. 

“Than you for your cooperation.” Connor said, heading toward the door.

“Is cyberlife happy about your accomplishment? They must be thrilling now that they have a super puppy to stop deviant. Have they sent the new one already?” Kamski shoot to Connor.

Connor turned to him, observing the creator walking to him. Chloe's position shifted, becoming less welcoming to them. What would he mean by “new one”?

“I expected better from you Connor” Kamski said a few centimetres away from him, still moving to him.

“She certainly expected better too.” He whispered this time, colder.

His hand moved in the air, instructing Chloe to lead them out.

Later that day and, for the next few days, Connor had tried to find any lead toward this Y/N. He didn’t find any files about her. When ask Amanda, she denied him answer.

“There was never a Y/N at cyberlife.” She had said, simply, shifting the conversation.

One thing was clear in his mind. He needed to find this Y/N. 

He would hunt her down if he had too.

It was his mission.

16 May 2039

The investigation had hit a stop. Ever since his visit to Kamski’s house, Connor had found no other information. All he knew was RA9 was a code, the effect of that code remaining a mystery. All he had was a name that didn’t appear anywhere. 

Y/N L/N.

No social media, no bank account, no identity.

There was nothing for him to work on.

Agent Wilson sight, his finger massaging his temple. No one inside the FBI nor the CIA who had recently joined them had found anything.

It was a dead end.

The TV coming from the break room starting crackle. Connor frown his eyebrow, seeing agents running around suddenly in panic, screaming orders. 

“What’s going on?” Wilson asked.

“Someone has hacked all TV channels, diffusing a countdown. It’s fucking worldwide.”

“All?”

The agent in front of them nodded. Connor headed toward the break room, sneaking past the others officer. Then he saw it. On a black screen, the countdown was running down.

“2 Days 7 hours 14 minutes.” Connor registered.

“Someone found these bastard.” The chief screamed.

“Connor, with me, now.” He said, exiting the room.

18 May 2039

The silence was palpable in the FBI office. Each person was at their post, ready to intercept whatever would go through in the next few minutes.

It had been 2 days 7 hours and 8 minute since the countdown had appeared on the screen. In 10 minute, the countdown had disappeared, sending back all TV program. Like nothing happened. The FBI hadn’t been able to find out where it came from. Now, they were waiting patiently to see if it was a world threat, or just a simple joke.

In any minute now, they would have the answer.

2 minutes left. The tension filled the room.

1 minute left. The chief had raised his arm, ready to send the orders for all the best hackers of his team to find any information about them.

All TV screen shut down, going black. 

No one was breathing.

A dark grey room appeared, lighten by a simple light in the background. Empty if it weren’t for the armchair in the middle of it and a white board right behind it. 

Someone was sitting on the sofa, faced masked. They were wearing a black suit with a tie, hand resting over their crossed leg. The masked was a reference to “Vendetta”. Clearly it couldn’t be any good sign. 

The person in the sofa seemed to go to life, raising from their sit, tightening their tie back.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the mystery hack. I will be your host for the next month, guiding you through every dark secret, conspiracy the government had keep away from you dear citizen.”

The hackers had been already tapping over their screen, trying to find any clue. The voice of the host was cryptid. The only thing Connor could identify was that the person seemed to be a woman, therefore more than half the population. 

“Let me guide you through this journey with a simple topic for today. To your precious life, my team and i have been gathering information from our respective job inside the government to put thing right. We will provide you all information, accompanied by the reports and states document. Because the government have been lying to you, and we want you to know the truth.”

Everyone in the room had grown pale. 

“Does anyone have anything? Anything to even shut them down?” The chief’s voice sounded urging.

Everyone in the room nodded no.

“Don’t worry, we will go crescendo. I said that to all the FBI and CIA watching.” They joked, waving. 

Nothing could be used. Every time the team find a location, it changed, over and over again. The signal was too cryptid to shut down anything. The worst part was, it was everywhere.

The person on the screen walked toward the white board, flipping it, revealing a title.

“JFK’s Assassination.”

“For fuck’s sake’s, someone stopped it.” The chief order, only to encounter defeated look.

“We can’t”

“All of us have heard about conspiracy theory, though, let me give a quick definition. A conspiracy theory is an explanation for an event or situation that asserts the existence of a conspiracy by powerful and sinister groups, often political in motivation.”

The host sat on the armchair, hands crossed on her knees. She turned to the headboard, before returning face camera.

Everyone had stopped their action in the office, now in admiration of the show. Whoever this person was, she knew how to keep the audience.

“We all have heard about fake death, disappearance, assassination. We’ve seen these case with Martin Luther King Jr or Nelson Mandela, the Princess Diana. I know you all loved her very much. So did i.”

On the internet, the “Mystery Hack” research had been exploding all record for the past few minutes.

“I will talk to you about the sadly famous John Fitzgerald Kennedy assassination. Let’s head back to the 22 November 1963. The President of the United States, JFK got shoot in the head in Dallas.”

For 10 minutes that felt like an eternity, the host kept going, proving her point with legit report, autopsy report, contract with the CIA and even recordings and mail exchanged that people in the room didn't seem aware of. Truly it could only be seen as legitimate. The allure of the host, appealing and charismatic only induced trust. It wouldn’t take much for the public opinion to be on their side, especially after the disaster of the peaceful revolution the deviant had lead months ago. 

They couldn’t expect a better timing to do their propaganda. 

“I got something.” Someone screamed.

It was too beautiful. Like a purpose act that they find something just now. Connor knew it was no coincidence when the host had a look at the watch attached to her wrist. 

“14 minutes and 56 seconds. Not bad for a first time. No worries, the next time it won’t be as easy.”

They knew they were in. They let them in on purpose.

“Well, until our next meeting dearest.” 

The screen goes black, cutting all information, all access. 

“It’s over.” one of them in the room said.

Connor was at a bar exit. His partner had needed some air, talking about going to one of the pubs in Detroit. Connor had followed him, thinking it would be faster to stay at his side if any news appeared.

He hadn’t been allowed in the bar though. There he was, waiting outside, his coin in his hand.

Someone exited the bar. A woman. She sights, looking around before searching for something in her purse, only finding an empty cigarette pack. Another sight.

Connor moved his hand to his pocket, taking the cigarette pack he kept for his partner, handing it to the woman. He had learned agent Wilson could be easily frustrated without his nicotine. Since he seemed to forget a lot to buy new cigarette, Connor had made a secret stack.

“I didn’t know android could smoke. Thank you.” She said, offering him a warm smile as her fingers grasping for one of the cigarettes.

“We can’t. It’s for my partner.” He said simply, putting the coin back in his pocket, alongside the cigarette pack.

He turned looking at her, observing all her movement. She was wearing a black dress matching with black heels, her hair was loosed on her back. The woman was smaller than he. Connor felt something familiar emerging from her. 

She looked back, feeling observed and Connor turned his head away, ashamed to be caught staring. 

He expected to end it here, but the woman moved closer to him, and he shifted toward her. 

“You’re the deviant hunter right? Connor?” She asked.

“Yes.” He answered?

A nod. Then, her hand moved to his neck. He didn’t pull back, blushing slightly when she straightens back his tie, his cheek tinting with a soft blue shade. That couldn’t be normal, he thought, running a quick diagnosis. 

“There, perfect pretty boy.” She said, looking at him with soft gentle eyes.

Connor felt his cheek burning harder under the praise.

“Thank you, Connor, for the cigarette.” she said, patting his vest, her finger lingering over the serial number. 

The cigarette ended up crushed on the wall as she head back inside.

“What’s your name?” He asked, turning to see her.

“Y/N. My name is Y/N.”

Hello! I hate writing the first part. This might suck a little. Sorry in advance, but I promise the next part will be even better. I do hope you find it interesting, though. Let me know what you think of this!

Bye

[mackenzielovee]

gray area (1) — bucky barnes

summary — you meet your new neighbor, Bucky, along with his friends and his son.

wc — 4k

series masterlist | navigation

You stand in the middle of your new driveway, staring up at the townhome that you now hold the keys to. You’d signed your name on the dotted line last week, and although it feels like forever since then, a part of you can’t believe it’s actually happening. 

“Still not sure why you’re so against moving in with me,” Natasha, your best friend, grumbles as she grabs another box out of the truck of your car, “I mean, yeah, there’s a few bad things about my apartment complex, but—”

“Your next door neighbor shot his girlfriend last week,” you argue, then add, “And, half of the people that live there are selling drugs!”

“Okay,” Natasha rolls her eyes, “One, that girl was a bitch. She also survived, so it’s fine. And, honestly, Y/N, everyone is selling drugs these days.”

“I’m not,” you reply, sticking your tongue out at her. 

“Right. You’re too much of a workaholic to be selling — or doing — drugs, anyway. I’m surprised they haven’t paged you—”

“Oh!” you exclaim, “I actually should go check my work phone. Can you get the rest of the boxes out?”

Being a nurse in the critical care unit of one of the best hospitals in your state, you have no choice but to be constantly thinking about your job. Natasha, who runs her own company, understands your need to be available 24/7, although she rarely expresses it. She thinks you hold yourself too accountable, but you disagree. 

Being responsible is the reason you’re able to afford to live on your own at twenty four. Being responsible has landed you a great job, salary, and benefits. Sure, you’ve had to sacrifice to get it, and Natasha thinks you’re lonely, but you’re happy for the most part. 

You check your phone and find nothing, then breathe in a happy breath. That means you’ll get to spend the remainder of the day unpacking and moving in. The boxes are lining the walls and starting to feel overwhelming; the clutter too much for you to handle.

Natasha comes strolling in a few minutes later, holding nothing but a lamp in her hand. You raise a brow, and she smirks. 

“Seriously? That’s all you could carry?” you tease. 

She shrugs, “I found some reinforcements.”

Before you can ask what she means, two men come strolling into your living room, both with boxes in their arms. Your jaw falls as Natasha laughs beside you, shamelessly checking them out as their muscles flex against their tight tee shirts. 

“Where do you want ‘em, Natasha?”

Natasha whips her head over to you, “Babe?”

You swallow when both men look over to you. Up and down their eyes go, taking in your sundress and curled hair before respectfully looking back up at you. They smirk when you stutter under their gazes, then point to the free corner of the living room. 

“Um, over here is fine,” you say, “Thank you so much, I didn’t—”

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Natasha interrupts, tugging on your elbow, “I already told them how we needed two big, strong guys to help us.”

The blonde sets his boxes down first, then steps forward and extends a hand. You give him a friendly, shy smile and shake it, ignoring the way his large hand engulfs yours. 

“I’m Steve,” he says, “One of the big, strong guys your friend recruited.”

Your smile widens, “Hi, Steve. Thank you very much for being willing to help.”

“No problem, I—”

The other man shoves Steve’s shoulder, then grins at you and extends a hand of his own. 

“Sam Wilson,” he informs you, squeezing your hand, “It’s such a pleasure. We’ve been wondering who was gonna take this place.”

“Now we know,” Steve cuts in, “So, what’s your—”

Your phone buzzes on the counter, and before you even realize what you’re doing, you turn and rush to it. 

“Ouch,” Sam whispers, nudging Steve’s chest before turning to Natasha, “Boyfriend?”

“Worse,” Natasha rolls her eyes, “Job.”

“That’s why I retired years ago,” Sam grins, “Right, Cap?”

Steve’s eyes haven’t left you yet; watching as you slump your shoulders when you realize the alert is just a routine message from the hospital. 

“Let’s go get the rest of the boxes,” Steve grunts, grabbing Sam by the shirt collar. 

Natasha follows the men outside, and after a minute, you do, too. Steve is in the middle of pulling another box from the trunk when you appear outside, dress swaying in the slight breeze. Sam elbows Steve in the chest when he catches him looking, and the men exchange a silent glare before getting back to work. 

“You guys really don’t have to do this,” you gush, placing a gentle hand on Steve’s bicep to stop him, “It’s okay, we can handle it. It’s only a few more, right, Nat?”

Natasha smirks, then shrugs innocently, “I don’t see the harm in letting them help, Y/N. You can always thank them properly later.”

Steve blushes at Natasha’s comment, but doesn’t play into the innuendo in the slightest. Instead, he turns toward you and gives you a gentle smile. 

“We really don’t mind,” he says. 

“Yeah, and he speaks for both of us, now,” Sam grunts. 

You laugh and drop your hand from Steve’s arm as if to give him silent permission to continue. Just as his hands reach around the next box, all of you hear the loud, screeching voice of a toddler. 

“Jamie incoming!”

Sam turns with just enough time to catch the four year-old launching himself into his arms, grinning from ear to ear at the promise of a hug from his uncle. 

“What’s goin’ on, Jay-Man?” Sam asks, gripping the boy tight. 

“Nothin’,” he smiles. 

“I don’t believe you for a second,” Sam laughs, “Where’s your—”

“Jamie, you’ve gotta put shoes on before you run outside. You know better.”

You swallow at the sight of the man stepping off the porch of the house next door and into the grass, where he eyes the toddler resting in Sam’s arms. He’s wearing gray sweatpants and a tee shirt, sports messy brown hair, and has stubble that you’d bet is only there because he hasn’t gotten around to shaving. 

“Relax, Buck, he’s a kid,” Sam replies, “Tell him, Jay.”

“I’m a kid,” Jamie repeats, grinning widely. 

The man, the one who left the house following the boy, lets his eyes travel from his friends to you. He gives you a gentle smile and you do the same back to him, feeling your stomach twist and turn the longer his eyes remain on you. 

“Aww!” Natasha squeals, stepping over to Sam and Jamie, “How old is he?”

“He’s four,” Sam states proudly, “You think he’s cute? He’s got my eyes, doesn’t he?”

You continue to stare, knowing you should stop but completely unable to. When his eyes — those devastatingly blue eyes — leave yours to travel down your body, you swallow. You hope he likes what he sees, but you don’t question where that thought comes from. The male gaze has never been one you’ve longed for, but right now, you can’t remember why. 

His jaw ticks as he breaks into a smile, raising a hand and conducting a small, shy wave. You bite down on your bottom lip to conceal your own grin, waving back. 

“So, he’s your son?” Natasha’s voice draws you back into reality.

Sam shrugs, “I mean, I take care of the rugrat, you know what I mean?”

Natasha nods, her eyes moving toward Steve when he scoffs, “Jamie is not Sam’s kid.”

As if to prove it, Jamie starts to squirm in Sam’s grasp, then makes grabby hands as he reaches for Bucky. 

“Daddy,” he frowns, “Is it snack time?”

Bucky nods and steps forward, reaching out to collect Jamie from Sam, who sighs, now that his cover has been blown. 

“C’mere, buddy,” Bucky says as he takes hold of his son, who immediately cuddles himself into his dad, “We can have a snack if you’re hungry.”

Your heart rate seems to speed up at the image of a father caring for his son so outright — something you never experienced so openly. Shyly, his eyes find yours as he adjusts his son in his hold, giving you a more forced, pained smile. You try to smile back in hopes of telling him that you find Jamie to be cute; that you’re happy to have them next door. 

“C’mon, Sarge, you gotta meet the new neighbor, first,” Sam lectures, pointing over to you, “This is Y/N, even though she never actually introduced herself to us. Y/N, this is Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, and his son, Jamie.”

“It’s just Bucky,” he immediately corrects, giving you another small smile as he offers his free hand out to you, “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” you reply, holding his gaze for a beat too long before your eyes catch on the little boy in his arms, “And it’s very nice to meet you, Jamie.”

He grows shy in his father’s arms and hides in his chest, earning a laugh from both you and Bucky. 

“Sorry,” Bucky says quietly, “He’ll open up eventually.”

You shake your head, “No need to apologize. He’s very cute.”

As if the compliment was meant for him, Bucky’s cheeks grow pink. To try and conceal it, he looks down at Jamie and tries to get him to talk, but the boy refuses. 

You try to think of something to say; a way to start up a conversation with Bucky, but Steve steps behind you — close enough that you can feel his body heat through your dress — and clears his throat. 

“Want me to take the kid for a snack, Sarge?” Steve questions, noting Bucky’s blushing cheeks. 

“Can we play superheroes, too?” Jamie asks his uncle, perking up. 

“Of course, dude. We can fly on the trampoline and everything.”

Jamie grins and immediately reaches for his uncle, changing grips yet again. Steve laughs and grabs hold of the toddler, then looks down at you. 

“Good to meet you, Y/N,” he says politely, then steps away and pats Bucky on the back, “You got this.”

Bucky’s face burns under the not-so-quiet encouragement from his best friend. Sam and Natasha grab more boxes from the car while simultaneously shamelessly flirting, which leaves you and Bucky outside in the cool air, alone. 

“Sorry about them,” Bucky says quickly, “They make quite the first impression.”

You nod in agreement, “They do. Do all of you live over there?”

Bucky’s eyes widen and he shakes his head quickly, so quickly that you try not to laugh. 

“God, no. The guys just come over to help me take care of Jamie. It’s, uh, just me over there. And Jamie, obviously.”

You laugh at the way he shakes his head, trying to collect his thoughts and stop himself from rambling. When he sees you laughing, he relaxes and even offers a chuckle at himself.

“Anyway,” he changes the subject, “What brings you to the neighborhood?”

“New job,” you answer proudly, “I’m a nurse at West County General.”

He cocks up a brow, “No kidding. Bet that keeps you busy.”

“It sure does,” you agree, “But, it’s really rewarding. I love it.”

He smiles as you smile, and when you see the tips of his ears grow pink, your grin widens. Sam and Natasha emerge from the house then, and they seem to burst whatever bubble you and Bucky have formed for yourself. 

“I should check on Jamie,” he mumbles, already taking a step back, “It was nice to meet you, Y/N. Welcome to the neighborhood.”

You grin, giving him a shy wave, “Thank you, Bucky.”

He returns your smile and wave, letting it linger between the two of you for a second too long before he turns and hurries back inside his house. 

When you turn around, Sam and Natasha are leaning up against your car, standing a little too close and looking a little too friendly. Clearing your throat loudly, you earn your best friend's gaze. 

“We should be getting ready, huh?” you ask her, giving her a subtle eyebrow raise. 

She sighs, “Yes. Thanks for the help, Sam. Hope we see each other again soon.”

He winks at her, then gives you a warm smile and a nod before taking a few steps back, inching toward Bucky’s house. 

“Nice to meet you, ladies,” he calls, offering a wave before he turns his back and heads away. 

“God, he’s so hot,” Natasha groans, “Like, did you see those muscles?” 

You chuckle and grab her, pulling her toward your new home, “Come on. Wanda’s gonna be pissed if we’re late.”

“Oh, who cares,” Natasha mumbles, but follows your lead, anyway. 

     The bar that Wanda planned for the three of you to go to is loud and crowded by the time you and Natasha arrive. To celebrate your new move and career, Wanda demanded a night out with you. Naturally, Natasha caught wind of the plans and invited herself — which was fine with you, because you always feel safer having her around while you’re drinking. Wanda, on the other hand, wasn’t wild about the inclusion of your best friend. They put up with each other, but they aren’t fans. And to you, it’s obvious. 

“Y/N!” Wanda squeals, “What do you think of this place? I thought it was cool, kinda has a retro vibe to it.”

“So retro,” Natasha quips, offering Wanda a smug smile. 

You nudge Natasha in the side and look around, taking the place in. It reminds you of Wanda in a way that you’d expect her to like it,  but you don’t necessarily care one way or another. A new area means new bars, new restaurants, and you know you have to figure out what you like and what you don’t. 

“It’s nice,” you smile, “Thank you so much for setting this up.”

“Of course,” she beams, “Let me get us a round. They have a killer lime mojito.”

“Oh, bummer,” Natasha pouts, “I’m actually on this new no-lime diet. Mind getting me a vodka soda?”

Wanda takes a calculated breath, “Sure. Be right back.”

You snort as soon as Wanda disappears and turn around to Natasha, who is smirking proudly at herself. When she catches your raised eyebrows, she feigns innocence and shrugs her shoulders. 

“What?” she teases, “It’s a real diet.”

“Mhm,” you hum, “Sure it is.”

“It is!” she laughs, then nudges you over to the two available barstools. You set your purse down on the bar and Natasha sits while you remain standing, not wanting Wanda to feel left out, “It’s new. I’m on a no-lime, all-new neighbor Sam diet.”

You let out a loud laugh, “Oh, right. He doesn’t even live over there, you know.”

“He doesn’t?”

“No,” you shake your head, “Bucky told me—”

“Bucky told you?” she gasps, grabbing your arms, “Oh, tell me exactly what Bucky told you.”

You huff, “Stop teasing me.”

“I’m not!” she protests, “I just want to know what your sexy new neighbor told you.”

“Stop.”

“Stop, what?”

You both turn and find Wanda standing there with three drinks in her hands, looking like she could use some help. Immediately, you grab one of them and set it down on the bar, then trade Natasha her drink for yours. 

“Oh, Y/N’s got this really hot neighbor,” Natasha fills her in, sipping her drink, “Total DILF.”

“Nat,” you hiss, then turn to Wanda, “He’s just a nice guy. He’s got a four year old son.”

“Look at you, remembering details,” Wanda teases, and suddenly, she and Natasha are laughing together — like they’re actually friends. 

“Oh, please,” you huff, downing half of your drink and listening to Natasha cheer you on before you speak again, “I’m sure he has someone, anyway.”

“He was blushing hard,” Natasha points out. 

“He was?” Wanda gasps. 

“Stop!” you demand, laughing as you take another sip, “Nat, why don’t we gossip about you and Sam, instead.”

She grins mischievously, “Yeah, I’ve definitely got my eye on him. But, that’s not as fun as watching you squirm.”

Wanda laughs, “Totally.”

You roll your eyes and finish off your drink, knowing Natasha is about to start in again, and you’re much too sober for it. 

“Wanda, you should’ve seen the way Bucky’s friend, Steve, was flirting with her, too,” she continues, “He carried in boxes, and I’ll be damned, she even put her hand on his arm! And that man is all muscles. She loves to play innocent, but I think she knows what she’s doing.”

“She definitely does,” Wanda agrees, “I’m sure you’ve got both of those guys in a chokehold already. This will be interesting.”

You sigh, “Anyway.”

“Aw, don’t get all pouty,” Nat teases. 

“I’m just not looking for that right now,” you explain casually, waving down the bartender for another drink, “I want a quiet life. My own house, my job, and my weekend outings with you guys. I don’t need some guy.”

They both soften as they stare at you, listening closely as you explain your feelings to them. They know how you’ve been handled by men in the past, and they understand that you’re not like them. You can’t let it roll off your back the way you do; you take it personally. You get hurt when you shouldn’t. You attach meaning to things where others don’t. Now, with your job and your improved mental state, you don’t feel like risking any of it over a man. 

“Well, cheers to that, then,” Wanda breaks the silence, holding her cup up in the air, “Let’s get fucking drunk.”

     You wake the next morning with regret, anxiety, and one big, fat headache. You groan and curse out loud at yourself, then climb out of the bed to get some coffee and aspirin in you. Briefly, you consider food, but the thought makes your stomach turn. 

You spy a note on the counter in Natasha’s handwriting, which is the first thing that clues you in that she isn’t here. 

Thanks for last night! Had to run. Chores to do at home. Still coming on Tuesday night with Chinese to help you unpack, so you better not be called in to work. 

XOXO,

Nat 

You smile at it as you fire up the coffee maker, then dig through the open box on your counter until you find the bottle of aspirin you always keep handy. You recap the night in your mind; the teasing about the neighbors, the drinks, the dancing, the drinks, the karaoke, the drinks. You hadn’t planned on drinking so much, but you wanted to let off some steam. Given that you work a fourteen hour shift tomorrow, you feel like you deserved it. Now, you’re not so sure. 

     After a few hours, your headache starts to subside and your stomach growls. Knowing you don’t have any food in the house and refusing to do an entire grocery store run, you resort to picking up takeout. 

As you pull down the newly familiar street with a bag of food sitting on your passenger seat, you notice motion at the house next to yours. Steve is out in Bucky’s front yard, tossing a foam football around with Noah. You smile at the sight, then let your eyes travel a little further left. Bucky is pushing a mower down his lawn, shirtless, sweaty, and showstopping. 

You groan when you realize you’re in shorts and a giant sweatshirt with messy hair; not at all presentable for him. Then, you scold yourself for even thinking that way. 

We’re just neighbors. That’s it. 

Regardless, you still try to fix your hair before you get out of the car. Steve recognizes your vehicle and waves over to Bucky, who stops the mower and walks over to his garage, where he grabs a cloth to wipe up his sweat. 

You climb out of the car shyly, wondering if you should clear out your garage today just so this could be avoided in the future. Before you even lock the doors, Steve’s voice carries across the yard. 

“Go ahead, buddy. She’s right there.”

You furrow your brows, gripping your food a little tighter. 

“Good afternoon, Miss Y/N.”

You can’t help but grin as soon as you hear his little voice, and you forget all about your hangover and the bag of grease in your hand as you spin around. 

“Good afternoon, Jamie,” you reply, watching the little boy’s cheeks grow pink, “Are you kicking your uncle’s butt in football?”

You gesture to the foam ball in Jamie’s palms, and shyly, he nods his head. 

“Yes,” Jamie grins, “He’s not very good.”

“Excuse me,” Steve cuts in, “I’ve taught him everything he knows.”

“Everything?”

Your eyes move from Jamie and Steve to Bucky, who is approaching with a teasing grin. You stare as he brings his cloth around the back of his neck and wipes his sweat away, then drags his eyes from his friend over to you. 

His muscles in his chest flex then, and you visibly swallow and look away. You swear you hear Steve’s low chuckle, but you don’t dare look over out of fear that the men will see right through you. 

“Hi, Y/N,” Bucky greets you, watching as you hesitantly look back up at him again. 

“Hi, Bucky,” you reply, trying to figure out what to follow up with, only to blurt, “Yard looks good.”

Steve snorts and you clamp your lips together, wishing silently that you could snatch the words right out of the air and back into your mouth. 

Even so, Bucky’s lips tip up into a genuine smile, and you swear you see the high points of his cheeks go pink — just like Jamie’s. 

“Thanks,” he says sheepishly, “I’m happy to help you out with yours anytime you need it.”

He watches as you recoil at his kindness, letting your shoulders drop and a pout form on your lips. Steve sighs audibly, but neither of you even glance his way. 

“Thank you very much, I appreciate that,” you smile. 

“You’re welcome.”

The two of you grow stuck in a trance of sorts as you explore him with your eyes; his tan skin, his chest, his softening belly that makes your knees feel physically weak, and his messy hair. His soft brown eyes that work all over your body, too. 

“Wouldn’t want that food to get cold, Y/N,” Steve says knowingly, drawing you and Bucky away from each other. 

“Right. I’ll let you guys get back to it,” you give Bucky a nod and he returns it, then you move your eyes down to Jamie, “Nice to see you, Jamie. Keep beating him, okay?”

Jamie grins, “Okay.”

Steve and Bucky both laugh and so do you, and with a wave to Steve, you disappear inside your house. You try not to replay the entire thing in your head as you set your food out to eat. You turn on a show on the TV that is only half hooked up, and just as you start to eat, you hear the lawnmower fire up again. 

With minimal hesitation and refusal to think twice, you hurry over to your window — the one that faces Bucky’s — and watch as he pushes the mower down the side of his house. He’s focused, sweaty, and tan, and it stirs something inside of you. Careful not to get caught, you let your food get cold on the coffee table, Steve be damned. Bucky is a sight to see, and you find nothing wrong with indulging. It means nothing, you tell yourself. It means nothing. He’s just nice to look at, that’s all.

a/n: pleeeease let me know if i should continue writing this or not! so curious what your thoughts will be! reblogs are appreciated and thank you for reading &lt;3

*i no longer have a tag list. follow @mackupdates to see every time i post something new!