#Sam.. ok maybe not but he has the excuse of being a modern person in a teched out costume | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

elizabear · 4 years

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body language will do the trick

OK, so I know this is going to be fully AU in about five seconds when The Falcon and the Winter Soldier airs, but those couples counseling scenes in the trailer got me WAY TOO EXCITED and I really couldn't help myself.

Title: body language will do the trick

Rating: Explicit

Category: M/M

Relationship: Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes (background Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanoff)

Additional tags: frenemies to lovers, coworkers to lovers, couples counseling, because sam and bucky can’t stop flirting at work, post-avengers endgame, but it’s au because, steve rogers isn’t old, and natasha romanoff lives, captain america sam wilson, shield agent bucky barnes, past steve rogers/bucky barnes, but it’s minor, bucky and sam fall in love, but COMPETITIVELY, oral sex, anal sex, tender railing, idiots in love, praise kink

Words: 12,598

Link to AO3: here

Summary:

“There’s no way you’re going to win this,” Bucky tells Sam. “I am going to love language the shit out of you.”

Sam gives him a considering look. “You do seem like you’d be really good at that.”

Bucky’s cheeks flush with heat. “Thanks, pal, I—”

Sam smirks, and Bucky’s eyes narrow. He shoves his elbow into Sam’s side and stalks off, leaving Sam cackling behind him.

“Your ass looks great today!” Sam yells.

Bucky reaches up to flip Sam the bird, and he definitely does not feel grateful that he wore his good jeans today. Bucky’s ass looks great every day.

Bucky Barnes is pretty sure that these counseling sessions—supposedly for Bucky and Sam’s “interpersonal issues”—are Director Fury’s revenge for that whole fake assassination situation. Which, to be fair to Fury, came about as the result of Bucky’s very real assassination attempt, even if the subsequent “assassination” was fake, so Bucky can’t exactly blame Fury there. What Bucky doesn’t understand is why their possibly-fake counselor—is she a real counselor, or just another one of Fury’s spies?—chooses to conduct her “therapy” sessions in the unlikely and frankly suspicious location of an underground bunker.

Dr. Carson’s therapy bunker is probably just a temporary location, since usable office facilities with running water and electricity are still pretty limited after the Blip, but Bucky was definitely under the impression that modern American therapists’ offices were supposed to be more soothing than this. He’d expected a bland but tasteful space filled with a cushy sofa and watercolor paintings and the calming sounds of nature recordings. Instead, Bucky and Sam are sitting in uncomfortable chairs in a dim room with bare cement walls and unflattering fluorescent lighting. Is Fury even trying to sell this fake counseling op?

Bucky and Sam’s counselor/interrogator is most definitely hostile. Although Dr. Carson looks lovely in her delicate green silk blouse and expensive silk scarf, her expression is stern and sour. She’s styled her glossy dark hair neatly, in gentle waves that summon a distant memory of the way women used to wear their hair in the 1940s, and Bucky wonders if this is Dr. Carson’s authentic style or if it’s just part of another SHIELD spy game, meant to trick or manipulate Bucky into confiding in Dr. Carson because she looks familiar and nonthreatening.

Bucky considers it an insult to the memory of Peggy Carter if Fury thinks he could’ve worked with Carter for two years in the SSR and still underestimate a woman just because she has nice hair and a pretty outfit.

Also, if Dr. Carson’s trying to lull Bucky into a false sense of security, why is she doing it in this weird basement?

Honestly this whole counseling thing really does seem like it’s secretly just a poorly planned interrogation.

Like right now. Dr. Carson asks, “Are you having a staring contest?” and Bucky isn’t going to disclose valuable intel by admitting that while Sam is definitely having a staring contest with him, Bucky is just using this as an excuse to look into Sam’s eyes, which are warm and brown and make Bucky feel all sorts of confusing things. Bucky is trained to resist interrogation, and that piece of information definitely falls under the category of “unexpected and alarming potential weaknesses.”

Also Bucky’s still sort of figuring out how he feels about Sam’s whole eye and face and shoulder situation, so the staring contest is actually a pretty great cover for whatever the fuck is really going on with him. Half of successfully surviving an interrogation is letting your captors fill in the blanks themselves and then pretending like their waterboarding is the worst thing you’ve ever endured.

Unfortunately, while Bucky is congratulating himself on successfully maintaining operations security—and winning their staring contest, no reason he can’t do both at once—Dr. Carson seems to reach her limit for the amount of shit she’s willing to endure from them today.

“You’re not taking this seriously.” Dr. Carson shoots them with a hard glare. “I’m giving you a five minute break, and if you’re not ready to open up and work on your communication and compatibility issues, I’m going to have to advise Fury to put you both on leave.”

Bucky’s fine with being put on leave, and he’s fully prepared to wait out SHIELD, Fury, and Dr. Carson. It took HYDRA fifteen years to break him down enough to send him out on missions, and no matter how much they tortured him Bucky didn’t shed so much as a single tear until they showed him newspaper headlines about what a bad pilot Steve turned out to be.

Also, Bucky’s not entirely sure that he’s not actually immortal, so he figures his patience will probably far outlast Fury’s determination to punish him for shooting him a few times when he didn’t even die. Actually, now that Bucky thinks about it, Fury’s probably less mad about the whole fake assassination thing than he is about Steve forcing him to offer Bucky a job and then grit out the most begrudging apology Bucky has ever heard in his life for SHIELDRA holding Bucky hostage as a brainwashed assassin while Fury was the Director of SHIELD. Right in front of Captain Marvel, too, Fury’s favorite Avenger, who had looked very disappointed in him. Apparently Danvers had her own history as a superpowered amnesiac brainwashed into working for the bad guys? Bucky’s unclear on the details, but when Danvers’s mouth tightened and her head shook in dismay, Nick Fury’s shoulders had slumped like a chastened schoolboy.

God, Steve is such a dick sometimes. Bucky loves him so much.

Dr. Carson’s high heels make clipped little clicking noises that speak volumes about her frustration with them as she strides purposefully out of the room. As soon as she closes the door, so firmly that Bucky can just tell that she had to have put conscious, controlled effort into not slamming it behind her, Bucky turns to Sam with a satisfied grin.

“Well, I think we’re doing great,” Bucky says. “SHIELD’s going to have to work a lot harder to get any real intel out of us, and I was definitely promised that they wouldn’t be using any drugs or brainwashing techniques this time so I think we’re going to nail this whole interrogation.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “This is therapy, man, not an interrogation. We’re supposed to be, like, opening up and becoming a better team.”

“Yeah, well, if this is real therapy then where are the goats?” Bucky says, raising an eyebrow toward the most likely location of the nearest camera as if to say gotcha, Fury, your goatless fake therapy interrogation tactic isn’t fooling me.

“I’m sorry, goats? Why would there be goats?”

Bucky leans back in his chair and folds his hands behind his head. “I’m just saying, in Wakanda I always got to hang out with animals when I did therapy. And look how great that turned out! I hardly ever kill anyone anymore, and when I do it’s on purpose because I decided to. Anyway, I really feel like this is all just a plot by SHIELD to find out why we—”

Bucky and Sam bicker for a while about whether or not this is real therapy until they’re interrupted by Dr. Carson’s return, her face looking a little damp now, like maybe she spent her time away from them splashing water on it and doing some deep breathing exercises in the bathroom.

“OK,” says Dr. Carson, visibly relaxing her spine. “We’re going to take a new approach. Have you heard of the five love languages?”

Sam’s eyes widen in horror. “No, we are not doing the five love languages.”

Bucky hasn’t heard of the five love languages, but he can tell from the look on Sam’s face that they definitely don’t want to do this, and Bucky’s pretty good at improvising when he needs to. “Oh, you know, I think HYDRA already implanted the five love languages in my brain when they were doing the rest of the Romance languages. So we can just skip those, I already know them.”

Bucky offers Dr. Carson his blandest and most innocent smile, the same one that sometimes worked on Sister Mary Angela back at old St. Charles Borromeo, but Dr. Carson’s face remains as stony and unmoved as the church itself, still standing in Brooklyn Heights in the year of our Lord 2023. Instead she says, “I think we need to take a couples therapy approach.”

“Couples therapy,” Sam repeats, sinking lower in his chair. Bucky winces as Sam’s knee starts to crush his balls.

“According to this file,” Dr. Carson says, opening it up to read aloud, “the two of you are here because your colleagues have complained about your, quote, romantically-charged bickering, your constant flirting, and your unnecessarily sexual sparring.”

Dr. Carson punctuates these damning statements with some truly savage air quotes.

“Listen, when I slap Sam’s bare ass in the locker room after a good sparring session it’s with purely collegial respect for a worthy opponent,” Bucky says, folding his arms across his chest. “I only ever treat Sam with the same level of professional respect I give Steve and Natasha.”

Sam nods in support. “Steve and Natasha never have a problem getting sweaty and physical with us, and I’ve personally witnessed Steve and Natasha slap Bucky’s ass dozens of times.”

Dr. Carson raises a single judgmental eyebrow. “Don’t you think there might be a reason why Fury’s banned the four of you from using the gym at the same time?”

“Uh, yeah,” Bucky says, rolling his eyes. “The other SHIELD agents get intimidated by Sam’s shredded abs and Steve’s and my super strength. Plus everyone’s scared of Natasha.”

Dr. Carson closes her eyes and visibly counts to ten. Bucky can see her mouth forming the words.

“All right, we’re just going to move on here, because I’m really only able to deal with just the one dysfunctional relationship at a time.” Dr. Carson passes them some worksheets and pencils. “I want you to fill these out, honestly, and then hand them back to me when you’re done.”

Bucky reads over the worksheets, which are filled with questions like, “Do you like it more when your partner reacts positively to something you’ve accomplished or when they do something for you that you know they don’t particularly enjoy?” There are a lot of questions about hugging, and holding hands, and Bucky gets distracted trying to picture holding hands with Sam, who has big hands, strong and capable and—

“Stop trying to copy my answers,” Sam says, when he notices Bucky glancing over at the way Sam grips his pen as he fills out his worksheet. Sam shoves his knee harder into Bucky’s crotch and Bucky stifles a gasp.

“I’m not!”

“Bucky, stop cheating.” Dr. Carson presses her lips together in a severe frown.

Bucky scowls and scooches his chair back several inches. It makes a loud scraping sound as it drags against the cement floor. But before going back to filling out his form, Bucky gives Sam’s ankle a sharp kick for getting him in trouble with Dr. Carson, and the two of them engage in a brief but brutal silent kicking war below the front of the desk where Dr. Carson can’t see.

When Bucky and Sam finish their kicking war and their quizzes, they hand their worksheets back to Dr. Carson for grading and rub their shins as they wait.

“Bucky, your primary love language is words of affirmation, and your secondary love language is physical touch,” Dr. Carson announces. “And Sam, your primary love language is acts of service, while your secondary love language is quality time.”

Bucky frowns. On the one hand, he feels like he’s received some pretty valuable intel about Sam that he could use to his benefit. But on the other hand, he’s probably given up some valuable intel of his own. He wishes there hadn’t been so many questions that made him think about hugging and touching Sam—somehow those made him so distracted that he forgot to respond with lies.

Bucky’s stomach knots up a bit at the thought of Sam learning his potential weaknesses, but really, how much of a psyop could Sam possibly launch with the results from a couples counseling questionnaire? (Natasha could probably execute a successful psyop based on the information from a Buzzfeed quiz meant to reveal your “celebrity mom,” so Bucky really hopes Sam doesn’t talk to Natasha about this.)

“Your homework is to try to learn to speak each other’s language.” Dr. Carson stands up and walks around the desk to touch Bucky’s shoulder. “Good job today, Bucky.”

Bucky smiles, and the knot in his stomach releases a bit. He is so nailing this therapy thing, he knew he’d be better at it than Sam.

Dr. Carson helps Sam back into his coat as she ushers them toward the door, and Bucky’s pretty sure she’s meant to be modeling an act of service except that mostly it seems like she’s just trying to rush them out of the office.

“See you next week.” Dr. Carson smiles stiffly, like she is not at all looking forward to seeing them next week. Her expression is full of determined professionalism right up until the click of the door latch, and then Bucky hears a dull thudding noise that is pretty unmistakably the sound of Dr. Carson hitting her head against the doorframe.

“There’s no way you’re going to win this,” Bucky tells Sam. “I am going to love language the shit out of you.”

Sam gives him a considering look. “You do seem like you’d be really good at that.”

Bucky’s cheeks flush with heat. “Thanks, pal, I—”

Sam smirks, and Bucky’s eyes narrow. He shoves his elbow into Sam’s side and stalks off, leaving Sam cackling behind him.

“Your ass looks great today!” Sam yells.

Bucky reaches up to flip Sam the bird, and he definitely does not feel grateful that he wore his good jeans today. Bucky’s ass looks great every day.

***

They’re on a mission together the next day, battling some Doombots in New Jersey, and wow is Sam committed to this whole words of affirmation thing.

When Bucky deflects a punch aimed straight for Sam’s head with his vibranium arm, Sam whistles and says, “Nice save, man, you’re killing it today.” Warmth rises up in Bucky’s chest at Sam’s praise, and Bucky is filled with panic and dismay when he realizes that the fight to squash it back down is honestly more taxing than their battle against Doombots. There’s absolutely no reason Bucky should be having such a physical reaction to basic battle camaraderie.

When Bucky stretches his leg up above his head to nail one of the bots with a vicious kick, Sam smirks and gives him a distinct how-you-doing sort of nod. “That was—seriously hot, man. Have you been doing yoga or something?”

So apparently Sam is choosing to interpret words of affirmation as “wild flirtation,” and Bucky’s cheeks are choosing to betray him by radiating at Sam’s attention. Bucky knows there’s a flush spreading down his neck, and he’s hoping Sam will attribute it to exertion from the fight, because there’s no way Bucky can let Sam know that Sam’s sort of winning at their therapy homework—not when Bucky’s entire mental health journey and, like, the honor of the Wakandan animal-assisted therapy program is at stake.

But after they board the Quinjet and set the autopilot on a course back to New York, Sam gives Bucky a slow up-and-down perusal with his eyes, and Bucky feels Sam’s gaze like a physical touch. “You look really good after a fight, Buck. That messed up hair and pretty pink blush are giving me all kinds of ideas.”

Bucky’s cock twitches at that, and huh. Bucky blinks and looks down at his crotch.

So that’s working again.

A dirty smirk spreads across Sam’s face, like maybe Sam knows exactly what just happened inside Bucky’s pants, and fuck, this whole situation is spiraling rapidly out of Bucky’s control. Like, yeah, Bucky kept Sam from getting a pretty gnarly concussion, and that was probably an act of service, right? But it’s pretty clear, to both of them, that Sam is winning this competition, and Bucky is not about to go down without a fight.

Which is—an idea.

Bucky drops to his knees in front of Sam and bites his lip in a way that he knows, instinctively, will make him look hot. Sam inhales sharply in response, and Bucky reaches up to grasp Sam by the hips before he can take a step backwards. The material of Sam’s uniform bunches up and shifts under Bucky’s hands, and fuck, Bucky’s cock is aching now, throbbing and filling up in his tight uniform pants. Bucky forgot he could feel so good.

“What are you doing,” Sam protests in a half-assed sort of way.

“Servicing you,” Bucky replies with a wicked grin, sliding Sam’s zipper down slowly over his thickening cock. Bucky can’t remember if he’s done this before, but the way his mouth waters and his throat aches in anticipation makes him feel pretty fucking confident about how this is going to go down.

But before Bucky can pull Sam’s cock out of his briefs, Sam slides his fingers into Bucky’s hair and tips his head gently backward, using his other hand to tilt Bucky’s chin up to look into Sam’s face. Sam’s pretty brown eyes are already darkening with arousal, but his expression is serious.

“You don’t have to suck my dick for therapy, man.”

Bucky huffs. “Sam, this is the first time my dick’s been hard since 1945. Do you know how many times Steve’s let me watch him jerk off trying to heIp me get hard again? I am definitely not doing this only to win at therapy, pal.”

Sam’s hands freeze in Bucky’s hair and his cock swells visibly in his briefs. “I��m sorry, Steve let you do what now? Dude, I thought Steve was straight.”

“Oh, he’s definitely, like, straight-ish,” Bucky assures Sam, with a little so-so wave of his hand that hopefully conveys the correct amount of ambiguity there. “He’s mostly just a really great friend.”

Sam’s eyes close for a long moment, and then Bucky’s scalp stings when Sam clenches his fist in Bucky’s hair and pulls. “Jesus,” mutters Sam, his voice gruff and husky. “Yeah, OK, baby. Go ahead and suck my dick.”

Bucky’s heart pounds as he pulls Sam’s cock out of his briefs and licks a wet stripe up the length of it, groaning at the feel of Sam’s skin under his tongue. Sam tastes salty with sweat, and his scent is musky and thick after their fight with the Doombots. Bucky teases him for a while, the way he’s seen people do in porn, trailing wet kisses along the shaft and mouthing at the head, and Sam lets out a ragged moan when Bucky’s mouth finally engulfs him. Bucky’s feeling pretty cocky about this, loves the rush of power he feels as Sam’s hips twitch and jerk to keep from thrusting into Bucky’s mouth—but then Sam fucking escalates shit, because Sam is an asshole.

“Christ, you feel good,” Sam murmurs, reaching down to rub his thumb against Bucky’s mouth, stretched wide around Sam’s cock. “You look so pretty with my dick in your mouth.”

And then Bucky’s the one moaning, eyelids fluttering shut and heat coursing down his spine at the sound of Sam’s husky voice. Bucky should have expected Sam to counter his act of service with more words of affirmation, but somehow he wasn’t prepared for the unbearable ache he’d feel at Sam’s dirty talk. Bucky feels inexperienced, outclassed at this sort of sexual warfare, and the only way he can retaliate is by sinking as far down on Sam’s cock as his throat will allow him. He reaches up to grab Sam’s hips, urging him to fuck his mouth, and then he hums a little inside his head to try to tune out the sound of Sam’s praise.

“Fuck,” says Sam. “God, that’s it, baby. You take it so well, Buck. So fucking good for me.”

Bucky whines, his jaw aching, eyes filling with tears as Sam’s cock stretches his mouth open. Sam keeps offering him filthy praise as he slides his mouth up and down Sam’s thick cock, and Bucky doesn’t know why this is doing it for him when all of Steve’s pale skin and strong thighs and big dick couldn’t, but maybe seventy years of torture and captivity have left Bucky with a few new kinks. Or maybe Bucky’s just healing or whatever. Bucky honestly doesn’t care, as long as Sam keeps letting him fill his throat with Sam’s dick.

Sam’s voice is rough when he says, “God, you fucking love it, don’t you,” and Bucky pulls off Sam’s cock just long enough to nod eagerly and gasp for air before diving back in. “Take your dick out, baby. I want you to come sucking my cock.”

Bucky’s rhythm stutters at that, his hand reaching down to pull his cock out of his uniform pants. He wants to be so fucking good for Sam, wants to come just how Sam says, wants Sam to keep telling him how good he looks, how much he loves fucking Bucky’s mouth, how much he likes giving it to him.

Sam’s praise grows hotter and filthier as he gets closer, and Bucky whimpers as he feels his own orgasm approaching. God, he hasn’t come in so long, hasn’t felt that hot rush and that familiar ache in his balls in forever and he wants it, wants to come, he just needs—

“Come on, baby, come for me, I know you can do it, just keep sucking my cock, God, you look so good, baby, don’t stop, don’t stop—”

And Bucky spirals over the edge, cock pulsing and spilling over his fist. He lets out a choked moan around Sam’s dick before his mouth is flooded with bitter, salty fluid. And then Bucky feels so fucking full, like he could drown happily in Sam’s smell and his taste and his fucking words of affirmation.

Fuck.

Bucky definitely did not win that round.

***

The whole blow job thing was an outstanding idea, really, one of Bucky’s best. But fuck, he did not anticipate Sam using that as an opportunity to completely turn the tables and affirm the shit out of him. Bucky can’t help but privately acknowledge to himself that Sam is completely winning at love languages so far.

They’re in counseling the next week, still in Dr. Carson’s depressing therapy bunker, and honestly, Bucky can’t imagine that this setting is good for, like, anybody’s mental health. His therapy in Wakanda always took place outdoors, under the warm African sun, surrounded by the wild, earthy smells of mud and animals and Lake Turkana. It made him feel open and free and connected to nature or whatever. It was peaceful.

Therapy at SHIELD is not very peaceful, especially because Dr. Carson clearly hates them, and she isn’t at all impressed by what Bucky considers some very impressive progress by them. Bucky and Sam are getting along.

“So,” Dr. Carson begins, apparently deciding to just start right off with more hurtful accusations from their colleagues, “according to Carl from the gun range, the two of you have been subjecting your coworkers to your, quote, uncomfortable bickering-slash-foreplay, and Maria Hill reports that you’re still, quote, cluttering up comms during missions with the most embarrassing flirting I have ever heard, I hate it so much.”

Dr. Carson’s air quotes are fucking vicious.

Despite the fact that they’ve only just started their session, Dr. Carson looks tense and aggravated already. She’s wearing another pretty silk blouse today, but her earrings don’t seem to match and it looks like she didn’t bother to curl her hair today. Maybe she just realized that Bucky wasn’t fooled by those forties waves?

Also, even though it’s Friday, Dr. Carson’s giving off a very Monday sort of vibe.

“Sam and I are working on it, OK?” Bucky says, with a mulish set to his jaw. “Obviously I’m doing my best here, but it’s hard to do therapy in a cement basement that gives me flashbacks to 1970s HYDRA facilities where I was tortured. And there aren’t even any pets at all to comfort me. Didn’t you receive the note from my Wakandan therapist stating that I require animals during therapy?”

A blood vessel in Dr. Carson’s forehead throbs, and she raises her hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. “I’ll see if I can get us a room upstairs for our next session, but I’m telling you for the last time that we don’t have any therapy goats.”

“Well, I don’t have any issues doing therapy without goats,” Sam says, like the worst sort of teacher’s pet. God, Sam’s teachers probably loved his charming smile and his quick wit and his stupid handsome face. “Maybe Bucky is using the goats as an emotional crutch.”

“Listen, goat therapy works, OK?” Bucky counts out on his fingers as he lists the many examples of real progress he’s made since his time as a goat farmer in Wakanda. “I started off as an amnesiac brainwashed assassin, and now I have a steady job, a haircut, an apartment leased under my own shell companies, and I only kill people when I want to kill people now. And I wash my hair regularly. And if I don’t wash my hair, I use dry shampoo. And I don’t turn into a mindless killing machine when people speak Russian at me.”

“Dude,” Sam says.

“Anyway, it’s fine if you’re not as good at therapy as me.”

“Not as—not as good at therapy as you? Man, I am a certified peer specialist. I was so good at my own therapy that they let me give other people therapy,” Sam says, throwing his hands up in frustration.

“Yeah, in America, where they’re not even familiar with things like advanced goat therapy.” Bucky clucks his tongue and shakes his head. “Did you even keep up with your continuing education requirements while you were fugitives with Steve?”

Sam sinks lower in his seat and frowns. “No. But speaking of Steve,” Sam says, perking up a bit as he follows a new thread of argument. “Whose PTSD recovery was so complete and inspirational that Steve Rogers trusted them with the responsibility of carrying the Captain America shield, hm?”

“Listen, Steve is reckless as shit and he’s so irresponsible with that shield that he’s constantly losing it in rivers and getting it broken by alien supervillains,” Bucky points out. “I’m so recovered that the king of an entire country, a man so responsible that they put him in charge of running literally everything in the most advanced nation on the planet, trusted me with a prosthetic arm powerful enough to crush the skull of an ordinary man with a single blow. Probably even his skull, and he’s been enhanced by some weird plant that makes him even stronger than Steve.”

“Yeah, well, I’m so recovered that—”

Dr. Carson interrupts them here, pinching the bridge of her nose. “OK, listen, I think there’s actually something pretty interesting here in how you each relate your recovery to your ability to wield weapons. Why don’t we stop bickering and discuss that a little further?”

“Yeah, OK,” Bucky mumbles.

Sam sighs heavily. “Fine.”

***

So the blow job thing is working perfectly—like, so perfectly, God, Sam’s dick is amazing—except for the fact that Sam is able to talk the entire time. Words of affirmation spill from Sam’s pretty lips every time Bucky swallows his cock, and Bucky is still fucking losing the love languages competition.

It’s time to create a Pinterest strategy board to figure this thing out.

Bucky is a visual planner, and he believes in tactical flexibility. He might not remember a lot about sex, but there’s tons of porn on the Internet. He just needs to find a couple of ways to service Sam while Sam’s mouth is otherwise occupied. How hard could that be?

After a lot of research and the creation of several Pinterest mood boards, Bucky calls Steve down the hall to his apartment to help him out. They all live in the same building since it has the best security in the city—and Bucky and Natasha are very particular about security—and it makes sense for the four of them to basically live together when they already spend all their time together. When Steve arrives, they head right to Bucky’s bedroom, get undressed, and survey the porn board on Bucky’s laptop.

“OK, so what about sixty-nine,” Steve suggests. “Let’s try that.”

They get themselves into position, mouths hovering over each other’s flaccid dicks like totally normal best friends.

“See, I feel like this works, but is it really servicing Sam if he’s, like, servicing me at the same time?” Bucky flops over onto his back in frustration and worries at his lower lip with his teeth.

Steve nods and tilts his head in thought. “Yeah, I see what you mean. Depending on the grading rubric, the two acts might cancel each other out. How about rimming?”

“I feel like rimming is a great idea, and I definitely want to do that, but how do I shut him up while I do it?”

Steve frowns. “Can you reach up and cover his mouth with your hand? Hold on, let me bend over and we’ll see.” Steve gets on his hands and knees, tilting his ass up for Bucky to simulate a rim job.

“You know, your ass really is kind of amazing.” Bucky takes a moment to admire the jewel of Howard Stark’s empire. “I mean, it was cute as hell when you were little too, but Scott Lang definitely wasn’t wrong in that podcast episode about which superhero has America’s ass. Don’t tell Sam I said that, by the way.”

“Thanks, pal,” Steve says, flashing Bucky a quick grin. “Your ass is great too, Sam’s a lucky guy. Now bend over and pretend to rim me.”

Bucky leans down and uses his hand to cover Steve’s exposed hole, then presses his mouth against the back of his hand to simulate a rim job. He reaches forward with his other arm to see if he can put his vibranium hand over Steve’s mouth. He could—maybe? If he releases the catch on his shoulder?

“I don’t think this is going to work,” Bucky says with a frown. “Here, maybe try getting on your back and holding onto your legs?”

“Like this?” Steve asks, shifting gamely into position. Bucky folds him over and pretends to rim him while covering Steve’s mouth, which—works, actually. And this is probably the most erotic scene Bucky’s ever been a part of—Steve really does look incredible like this—so it’s kind of a shame that it does absolutely nothing whatsoever for Bucky’s dick.

Except then Bucky pictures Sam in Steve’s position, bent over and whining under Bucky’s vibranium hand, and Bucky’s cock gives a little twitch. Fuck.

Bucky sighs and releases Steve with a short nod. “Not bad, pal. I think this one’s gonna work. Let’s write it down.”

They test out a few more positions, taking careful notes on the comfort and degree of mouth coverage of each one. Bucky finds a few more pictures to add to his Pinterest board, and they sort through every image and assign them to the correct position number. Then Bucky and Steve print off their pictures and tape them to Bucky’s wall for inspiration, mapping out a sequence of actions that will lead to orgasms for both Sam and Bucky with a minimum amount of talking on Sam’s part.

Which is a shame, really. Sam’s dirty talk really does it for Bucky.

Still nude, Bucky and Steve stand in front of the vision board and assess the plan.

“I think position two is really going to work,” Steve says, stroking his chin, and Bucky’s brain flashes back to an image of Steve in pretty much this exact pose, assessing a map of HYDRA facilities in Western Europe with no less gravity and passion. God, Steve Rogers is a great fucking friend. “And if you really want to service the guy, I mean, you’ve already got him all loose and open. You might as well give him your dick too, right?”

Bucky nods in agreement. “Yeah, I mean, as long as I keep kissing him, he won’t be able to affirm me too much. I think this really is the winning scenario.”

“Great teamwork, pal,” Steve says, slapping Bucky’s bare ass. “This was fun! Just like the old days.”

Bucky smiles wistfully. “Yeah, there’s nothing like planning an op with The Man With the Plan. Hey, you want to grab dinner after this?”

“Nah,” Steve says, too-casually, angling his pelvis away from Bucky as he pulls his pants back on. “I think I’m gonna go see if Natasha’s busy.”

Bucky grins. “Give her my best.”

“Will do. Love you, pal,” Steve says, giving Bucky a quick kiss before he leaves.

Steve doesn’t bother putting a shirt on before he goes, and Bucky can hear him whistling cheerfully all the way down to Nat’s apartment.

***

Steve and Bucky’s plan was great, so naturally it goes to shit as soon as Sam gets involved.

Bucky’s sucking Sam’s dick, which OK, yeah, wasn’t technically in the plan, but God, Sam’s got such a great dick. How far behind can Bucky really fall in the standings from just one blow job?

“Your mouth feels so fucking good, baby,” Sam says, sliding his long fingers through Bucky’s hair—which Bucky washed before he came over, because he is killing it as a recovered assassin and also because this afternoon Sam grabbed his hips and leaned in, breath hot against Bucky’s ear, and murmured how much he wants to smell Bucky’s shampoo on his pillows tomorrow morning.

Which was both smooth as hell and very convincing. Bucky immediately bought like three more bottles of that shit and accepted Sam’s invitation over to his apartment that night.

So now they’re in Sam’s apartment, and Bucky’s sliding his mouth along Sam’s cock, and Sam’s telling him how much he loves the way Bucky sucks him, loves the way Bucky’s pretty face looks with Sam’s cock in his mouth, lips slick with spit and tears leaking out of his eyes. And then Sam says—

“Are you gonna let me fuck you tonight, baby? Gonna let me see how well you take it?”

And before Bucky knows it, he’s moaning around Sam’s cock and nodding his head, and Sam’s pulling a condom and lube out of the side drawer, and then Bucky’s face down on Sam’s bed, gasping and clenching around Sam’s long fingers.

When Sam finally turns him over and pushes inside him, Bucky feels his brain just—fully vacate his skull. Pleasure buzzes up and down Bucky’s spine like an electric current, and he’s only barely conscious of the wet-sounding gasp that comes out of his mouth when Sam finally slides all the way home.

Sam gives it to him slow and sweet, fucking into him at a dreamy, leisurely pace as Bucky grabs fistfuls of Sam’s sheets and scrabbles at any leverage he can get to try and push back against Sam’s cock. Bucky wants Sam to grab his hips and pound him hard, overwhelm him with stimulation and keep him from sinking under the gentle wave of that languid rhythm. It’s too intimate, too vulnerable, and Bucky’s chest is cracking wide open for Sam to look inside. He’s a little afraid of what Sam might see within him, but instead Sam’s expression is full of awe, his face open and tender as he runs a thumb over Bucky’s cheekbone.

“God, you’re so fucking gorgeous, so fucking sweet for me.”

There’s a lot of eye contact after that, and romantic face touching, and Sam telling Bucky how much he loves the way he feels, loves the way he looks and smells and tastes. Warmth pools deep in Bucky’s gut, spreading through his veins like the burn of whiskey, until Bucky feels like he’s going to burst into flames around Sam’s cock. Instead he comes, long and hard and messy, all over his stomach.

Sam’s eyes are hot as he looks down at the sight of Bucky’s abs covered in pearly fluid, and then he slams his hips into Bucky three more times, hard, before groaning and collapsing on top of him.

Fuck, Bucky thinks.

He takes a few minutes to catch his breath, and then suppresses a half-hearted sigh when he realizes that he completely blew the plan. Like, yes, that was some fucking amazing sex, Sam gave him the dicking of a lifetime, but somehow Bucky ended up even further behind in the love language competition. How does Sam keep winning?

It’s too late now to offer another act of service. Even if Bucky could get it up again, Sam definitely couldn’t.

Shit.

But wait, what was Sam’s secondary love language? Quality time? Perfect.

Bucky rolls over to give Sam a few open-mouthed kisses on his shoulder. Sam is sweaty from exertion, and he tastes salty and amazing. God, Sam is the best.

“You mind if I stay the night, sweetheart?” Bucky murmurs.

Sam’s lips curve up in a soft and pleased smile. “Yeah, baby, I was hoping you would.”

“C’mere, you can be the little spoon,” Bucky says, reaching around Sam’s waist to reel him in, and Sam huffs out a surprised grunt and then a happy sigh when Bucky wraps his arms and leg around him.

They fall asleep within minutes, and it turns out Sam really was into the smell of Bucky on his pillows because they fuck again in the morning, and this time Bucky forgets to keep track of who’s winning at therapy homework.

***

They fuck constantly after that, which is amazing, but unfortunately Bucky is still staying in this game only by the skin of his teeth. Like, yes, Bucky is performing acts of service for Sam on the regular, but somehow Bucky finds his self-control dissolving like sugar melting into caramel when Sam spreads him out under his dirty mouth and his clever hands.

So now when Sam collapses on top of him at night, fucked out and shaking, Bucky nuzzles his face into the back of Sam’s neck and wraps his arm around him to pull him close. Bucky stays the night, every night, and at work he sticks to Sam more tightly than one of Steve Rogers’s t-shirts. But the more quality time Bucky offers Sam, the more acts of service Bucky ends up performing—which, sure, sounds like a plan that would put Bucky pretty solidly in the lead, except for how Bucky always ends up a sobbing, needy mess dripping onto Sam’s sheets while Sam smirks and tells him how good Bucky is for him.

They fight together even better now, in sync in a way that Bucky hasn’t felt since he worked with the Howling Commandos, and when they finish a skirmish they turn to each other, flushed and grinning, flying high on adrenaline and oxytocin and arousal. They kiss savagely, mouths wet and open, and they don’t care who hears them pant and groan over the comms.

“God, you were so fucking hot—”

“Sam, yes, god, please—”

Bucky and Sam have died and come back to life already this year and somehow they’re still bringing each other back to life. Bucky swaggers through SHIELD headquarters with champagne flowing through his veins, bright and bubbly, and Fury yells at them twice for passing dirty notes to each other during briefings. They’re obnoxious about it, obvious and messy and shameless, and Bucky’s pretty sure that Maria Hill is going to resign in protest if she has to work surveillance for even one more of their ops.

Somehow they’re generating even more complaints to HR than before.

***

Dr. Carson has finally managed to find them a room with a window for their counseling sessions. They’re on the fifth floor, and there’s not much of a view—just the brick wall of the building next to them—but sunlight streams in through the sheer curtains and highlights the cut ridges of Sam’s frankly incredible cheekbones. God, Sam’s so fucking handsome.

Bucky and Sam are grinning broadly, but Dr. Carson looks stressed out and irritated today, even though they just started the appointment. Her hair is stringy and a little greasy at the roots, and Bucky wonders if Dr. Carson knows about dry shampoo. He isn’t sure how to ask, or if it would be rude to offer her a few sprays from the travel bottle he keeps in one of the pockets of his tactical pants? She’s still wearing a nice silk blouse, but it looks like she’s buttoned it incorrectly, and the tail is hanging out of the top of her slacks.

Are those even slacks? They kind of look like yoga pants.

Privately, Bucky thinks that an outsider might be hard pressed to figure out which of them was supposed to be the mental patient here. Are Bucky and Sam actually driving this woman insane?

“So you’re sleeping together.” Dr. Carson’s tone is flat and dismayed. “You know this is against SHIELD employee regulations, don’t you?”

She taps her pen against their folders in agitation, and Bucky wonders if those folders are their actual permanent records. Does Bucky’s folder still have all of the notes from Sister Mary Angela about his “distracting” and “unnaturally close” relationship with Steve? God, Sister Mary Angela hated Steve.

Sam waves a careless hand and props his ankle up on his other knee. “We’re independent contractors, and Steve and Natasha made sure that our contracts didn’t include any kind of anti-fraternization policies. They were extremely thorough about it.”

Dr. Carson sighs heavily, and it looks like she’s doing literally everything in her power not to roll her eyes. Instead, she tips her head back and looks at the ceiling, probably hoping to roll her eyes where Bucky and Sam can’t see them. “Nevertheless, the two of you are still required to be discreet and professional when you’re at work. We’ve received complaints from several of your coworkers about your behavior in the last week. According to Carl, you’ve been bringing, quote, unwanted and uncomfortable sexual energy to the workplace.”

Bucky scoffs. He knows how to handle this sort of situation. “Listen, I didn’t lose my life fighting Nazis so that a little homoerotic banter and ass grabbing would get me in trouble at work. And anyway, this is how Captain America and I behaved at work back when we were fighting fascism and defending the free world—in the 1940s, even!—so I can’t imagine that somehow you’re just not allowed to give each other friendly hand jobs in closets in 2023. If anything, I should be able to give Sam a friendly hand job outside of a closet. Those are exactly the kinds of freedoms I fought and died for.”

Sam nods in support and says, “That’s a great point, Buck,” and Bucky feels warmth curling in his belly before he realizes, fuck, Sam’s doing it again, and right in front of Dr. Carson too. Jesus, Sam is so good at therapy. “And it sounds like Carl might be just a tad bit homophobic. Maybe we should be complaining to HR about him. You know, I didn’t serve during the long years of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell just to hear—”

“Carl is happily married to his male partner of thirty-seven years,” Dr. Carson states, clenching her jaw. Bucky has literally fought people to the death who look less bothered by his general existence. “Also, you didn’t actually die fighting Nazis, Agent Barnes.”

“It was a metaphorical death,” Bucky defends, because this is important to him. “The old Bucky Barnes died in that ravine. We went over it all in my therapy in Wakanda, the most scientifically advanced country in the world. What even are your credentials and where are your goats?”

“I have a Bachelor’s degree in psychology from Harvard and doctorates in clinical psychology and neuroscience from Oxford. I was a Rhodes scholar, I’ve received a MacArthur Fellowship for my work in PTSD and polytrauma in returning veterans, and I literally wrote the textbook for most Introduction to Psychology courses.”

Bucky waves his dismissive hand at this. “Yeah, well, Sam did eighty hours of coursework and an eighty hour practicum to become a certified peer counselor. Plus he has experiential knowledge, which is more important than book learning. Also, Sam isn’t HYDRA. Are you HYDRA?”

The wood in Dr. Carson’s pencil cracks a bit under her hand. “I’m not HYDRA.”

“But, like, would Nick Fury know if you were HYDRA?” Bucky presses.

“That’s an excellent point, baby, you’re killing it in therapy today.” Sam pats Bucky on the thigh and then leaves his hand there, bare inches away from Bucky’s cock, and Bucky bites the inside of his cheek to keep from moving his hips or making any noises. “Nick Fury would definitely not know if Dr. Carson were HYDRA, his Nazi-finding track record is, like, dismal at best. I vote that we suspend therapy until there’s been an independent investigation into whether or not Dr. Carson is HYDRA.”

“You can’t suspend therapy,” Dr. Carson says, her expression pinched. “These counseling sessions are mandatory.”

“Look, we’ll keep doing the love languages thing as a show of good faith, and once the investigation’s concluded we’ll come back so you can decide which one of us is winning at therapy,” Bucky says. “In the meantime just, like, prepare to have all of your secrets uncovered and all of your loved ones and ex-boyfriends questioned extensively about your most private and intimate memories.”

Dr. Carson covers her face with her hands. Is she trying to muffle a scream?

“For the last time, no one wins at therapy,” she grits out.

“I mean, I think I’m pretty obviously winning,” Sam says. Bucky tips his head in reluctant agreement. “Anyway, we’ll talk to Natasha and Steve about the HYDRA thing since they actually know how to find Nazis. If Steve and Nat clear you, then Bucky and I will agree to let you judge which one of us is winning the love languages competition. In the meantime, it would be nice if you could get some therapy pets for Bucky. He likes animals. Goats might be a bit unreasonable for downtown D.C., but I’m sure you could rustle up some cats or something, right?”

Bucky hums. “I like dogs better.’

“All right, cool. Dr. C, get us some dogs.” Sam raps two knuckles against the desk. “Bucky and I are going to go to the gym to work out a bit. Bucky’s shoulders are looking really good lately.”

“Sam!” Bucky hisses, squirming a bit in his seat. “Not in front of Dr. Carson!”

“Sorry, baby,” Sam says, holding out a hand to pull Bucky up out of his chair. “See you next week, Dr. C!”

***

It hasn’t exactly escaped Bucky’s notice that Natasha has been avoiding him ever since Bucky and Sam started their love languages competition, so when Bucky sees Steve walking alone down the hallway toward his office, he reaches out from the broom closet where he’s hiding and yanks Steve inside.

“Is Natasha helping Sam win the love languages competition?” Bucky hisses.

There’s no real reason that they need to have this conversation in a broom closet instead of Steve’s office, but Bucky’s feeling nostalgic today, and Steve doesn’t seem at all bothered to suddenly find himself in a broom closet with Bucky.

“I mean, probably?” Steve says with a shrug. “It seems only fair, since I’m helping you. Also her dirty talk has really leveled up lately, and that’s probably not a coincidence. Why, what’s Sam doing?”

“He’s, like, constantly flirting with me. And the touching! God, Steve, I’m horny all the time now. And you wouldn’t believe the things he says to me in bed! Do you know how hard it is to concentrate on all the sex routines you and I’ve choreographed when Sam’s telling me how pretty I look with his cock in my mouth?”

“Natasha is definitely helping him then—she says that to me all the time when she’s using her strap on,” Steve says, chewing his lip thoughtfully. “Are you sure you can’t keep it together enough to service him without getting distracted by his words of affirmation?”

“Yes,” Bucky says, his cheeks growing hot. “You have no idea, Steve, like Sam just gets so filthy. I know my brain’s been fried like an egg and I don’t actually remember a lot about sex, but I don’t think people talked like this in the ‘40s, right?”

“I mean, you and I shared a bedroom in an apartment with paper thin walls and then spent a few years in a warzone. There’s not much opportunity for dirty talk when you’re just doing your best to get off without waking anybody up,” Steve says. “But that does give me an idea. Sam’s secondary love language is quality time, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“So date him! You may not have the sexual repertoire of someone who’s watched hundreds of hours of modern porn or even someone who remembers much about having sex before like three weeks ago, but you do know how to pull off a good old-fashioned wooing.”

Bucky’s forehead wrinkles. “Do I, though? Do I still know how to pull off a good old-fashioned wooing?”

“I believe in you, pal.” Steve claps him on the shoulder and then looks around the broom closet thoughtfully, taking in the dirty mop and the shelves of cleaning supplies and filthy rags. “You’re honestly not even doing a bad job of wooing me right now. Want to trade hand jobs for old time’s sake?”

Bucky shoots Steve a withering look. “I’m not wooing you right now, Steve, you’re just easy. Go find Natasha if you’re horny.”

Steve shrugs. “Eh, it was worth a shot.”

***

Two months later, once Steve and Natasha have completed Dr. Carson’s background check and confirmed that she isn’t HYDRA, Sam and Bucky return to therapy. Even though Dr. Carson hasn’t seen them in months, she looks pinched and irritated, and the deep wrinkles in her forehead and the sudden explosion of gray in her hair make her look as though she’s aged five years since she started giving them therapy.

Bucky frowns and squints in suspicion. “We haven’t gotten Blipped again, have we?”

“What?”

“You just look—” Bucky gestures toward her hair and the bags under her eyes.

Dr. Carson’s expression shifts from exhausted indifference to polite fury, and Bucky’s just about to apologize when Sam gestures toward the floor under the window and says, “Hey, look at that! It’s about time you got Bucky a therapy puppy, you know that his doctors in Wakanda strongly encouraged it.”

When Bucky follows the line of Sam’s arm, he sees the cutest puppy in the world sitting in a fuzzy little dog bed with pictures of bones on it. Bucky gasps in delight. “He’s so cute, Sam, look at his little face!”

The puppy’s face is perfect, with big brown eyes and a short little snout with a tiny black nose. When he wags his tail, his little butt wiggles and Bucky wants to die about it. He loves this puppy so much.

“I’m naming him Paddington after my favorite movie,” Bucky declares.

“I love it,” Sam says immediately, pulling out his phone. “Put him in your lap so I can get some pictures for Steve and Natasha. They’re going to be so jealous when they find out that we got to have a dog in our therapy.”

Sam and Bucky spend the next ten minutes playing with Paddington and taking photos of the two of them with their adorable new therapy dog while Dr. Carson rubs her forehead like she just fucking knew this puppy would be a distraction.

“I think we should get started,” Dr. Carson interrupts, glancing pointedly at her watch.

“Yes, perfect!” Bucky pulls a small notebook out of his back pocket. “OK, so let me catch you up on everything we’ve done to each other since our last meeting, and I especially want your input on the scoring system that Sam and I have developed—”

Bucky and Sam spend the next half hour recounting their every interaction over the past couple of months in explicit, pornographic detail while Dr. Carson repeatedly clenches and unclenches her fists. When they spend ten full minutes alone on the rim job Bucky gave Sam last Saturday, Dr. Carson’s eyes go distant and glassy like a shell shocked veteran of the Great War or something. Bucky has literally seen torture victims make less of an effort to dissociate from their surroundings than Dr. Carson right now.

Honestly, who would have expected a therapist with thirty years’ experience to be so faint of heart? It’s absolutely critical to Bucky and Sam’s scoring system to determine whether Sam let out a “choked moan” or a “strangled gasp” while Bucky ate him out, and Bucky doesn’t appreciate Dr. Carson’s frankly lackluster participation when they stage a reenactment of events to try and settle the matter. She doesn’t even seem very decisive when she finally renders her judgment, like maybe she just doesn’t care what kind of sound Sam made, even though it was the most erotic noise Bucky’s ever heard in a hundred years.

When Sam concludes his argument for why words of affirmation during sex should count for more points than praise at work, Dr. Carson sighs heavily, looks off into the distance for exactly ten seconds, and then states, “I think we should discuss how you two can erect boundaries between your work relationship and your sexual relationship.”

Sam raises a skeptical eyebrow at Dr. Carson’s audacity. “Do you really feel like you’re qualified to counsel us on that particular issue?”

Dr. Carson’s jaw clenches. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean, after everything that went down between you and Dr. Fitzgerald back in Philadelphia, I hardly think—”

Dr. Carson’s face whitens like curdled milk. “How did you find out about that?”

“Remember Natasha’s background check? Anyway, I’m just saying that it’s a tad bit hypocritical of you to suggest that Bucky and I shouldn’t be fucking during work hours, I mean, Bucky isn’t even married—”

Dr. Carson bites her lip so ferociously that she draws blood. “Bucky may not be married, but he is technically your subordinate, and that means there’s an uneven power dynamic to consider here—”

Sam smirks like he’s fucking Benjamin Matlock and he knows he’s just one pointed question away from making the guilty party break down and confess right there on the witness stand. (Bucky makes a mental note to ask Sam later why he and Natasha always snicker when Bucky and Steve get together to play cribbage and watch Matlock on Sunday afternoons.) “You mean like the uneven power dynamic at play between you and that doctoral student whose dissertation committee you chaired at UPenn?”

Dr. Carson gasps, and her face turns as red and furious as Sister Mary Angela’s that time she caught Steve’s skinny arms nailing a copy of Martin Luther’s Ninety-five Theses to the heavy wooden door of St. Charles Borromeo.

Bucky’s mind wanders a bit at that memory. God, Steve Rogers really was such a bad influence—maybe Sister Mary Angela was right about their distracting and unnaturally close relationship. Because of course Bucky couldn’t leave that stubborn asshole to face Sister Mary Angela’s wrath alone, so Bucky had ended up confessing to abusing his powers as editor of the student newspaper to let Steve use the school’s small printing press. Bucky emerged from the experience with an ass that burned for a week and a few uncomfortable new kinks.

Now, Bucky looks speculatively over at Sam’s strong hands and shifts in his chair.

“I just remembered, Sam and I have something really important to do,” Bucky announces. “So we’ll see you next week, right? OK, cool. C’mon, Paddington!”

Bucky grabs Paddington’s cute little dog bed and Paddington hops down from Sam’s lap to follow them out of the office, his tail wagging happily as he trots along beside them. God, Paddington is so fucking cute, Bucky cannot believe what a great dog he is.

Dr. Carson calls out after them through gritted teeth. “You’re not supposed to take the therapy dog with you!”

“Sorry, what?” Sam shouts back, cupping his hand around his ear. “I can’t hear you!”

“Bucky, I know you have super hearing!”.

“Sorry, I’m a hundred and six years old and I left my ear trumpet at home!” Bucky raises his hands in an exaggerated shrug to convey the hopelessness of trying to communicate at this great distance of about forty feet.

“God, I need a fucking vacation forever,” Dr. Carson mutters.

***

Later, after Bucky and Sam collapse against Sam’s sheets in sweaty exhaustion, Bucky mentally tallies their points and comes to the frustrating conclusion that Sam is still absolutely wiping the floor with him in this love languages competition. God, how is Sam so good at everything? He’s so fucking handsome and charming and athletic and just, like, absolute dynamite in the sack—

God, no wonder Bucky’s losing. There’s no way he can win this competition with his dick alone. Time to channel Tommy Dorsey and play it from the heart.

“Hey, Sam,” Bucky murmurs, leaning up to nuzzle his nose against Sam’s jaw. “Let me cook you dinner tonight, doll. Wanna treat you right.”

“‘M not your doll,” Sam grumbles. “But yeah, OK.”

Bucky kisses Sam’s shoulder and plots.

Three hours later, Bucky and Steve survey Bucky’s dining room with the smug satisfaction of Scarlett O’Hara stealing her sister’s fiancé to get her greedy hands on his general store and sawmill.

“I think we nailed it, pal,” Steve boasts. “This looks just like your date night mood board.”

“I mean, I feel like half the credit should go to Pinterest user donkeydick2004—who would’ve guessed that he’d have such a sensitive soul.”

Bucky’s dining room table is covered with rose petals sprinkled over Bucky’s mother’s best lace tablecloth, liberated from the archives of the Smithsonian along with the rest of the contents of Steve and Bucky’s old Brooklyn Heights apartment. Two lit candles rise proudly from the gleaming silver of Sarah Rogers’s candleholders—the only wedding gift she’d managed to save from the pawnbroker during those lean years of Steve’s childhood—and the Victrola crackles with the smooth tenor of Enrico Caruso singing an aria so romantic it once brought a tear to the clear, flinty eye of Bucky’s father. Bucky’s grateful now that the Barneses were a Victor Talking Machine Company family—those Edison wax cylinders decayed faster than American democracy after the invention of Facebook.

The first time Bucky saw the familiar red logo of that Caruso record again—faithful Nipper the dog, his head tipped toward the horn of a gramophone playing the sound of his dead master’s voice—Bucky drove straight out into the desert and screamed until he was hoarse.

And now tonight Bucky’s using that very record to romance the shit out of Sam Wilson, so Nick Fury and Dr. Carson can fuck off with their so-called “therapy” because Bucky Barnes is doing great.

Steve clears his throat and gives Bucky a meaningful look. “You know, if this is all just some competition between you and Sam, you didn’t have to drive out to Maryland to dig all of our most personal and intimate memories out of storage for this dinner.”

Flustered, Bucky replies, “You have no idea what a canny opponent Sam is! Every time that man talks, my heart flutters and my stomach’s all full of butterflies. Besides,” Bucky says, “my grandfather paid fifty extra dollars to get the Circassian walnut veneer put on that old Victrola—he would haunt me if I didn’t ever use it, Steve.”

“You know your Aunt Margaret spit on her own father’s grave when your grandfather left that Victrola to your dad instead of her?”

Bucky laughs. “Is that why they had that big falling out? I couldn’t remember.”

“Peggy said that your Aunt Margaret wrote Howard Stark a letter every month until the day she died demanding the return of that Victrola.”

“Well, I hope that greedy old hag is looking down at me right now,” Bucky says, shaking his head in disbelief. “She deserves to watch me seduce my gay lover with that Victrola, it serves her right. You know she called you a fairy once?”

Steve gestures toward the intimate tableau featuring all of Bucky’s most precious memories and dryly states, “Well, as long as you’re clear on spite as your motivation for all of this.”

Bucky bites his lip as a sudden fear strikes him. “Do you think Sam’s going to like the chicken? People still roast chicken, right? It’s not just, like, sushi and gluten free vegan desserts nowadays?”

Steve opens his mouth to respond but is interrupted by a knock at the door. Paddington dives off the sofa like he’s responding to an Avengers Assemble alarm—which, oh my god, could Paddington wear a little outfit and come with the Avengers on ops? Bucky needs to look into this immediately—and dances around in elation when Bucky opens the door to reveal Sam, who is looking fine as hell in a lavender button-down and navy trousers.

And Bucky’s heart is—honestly not reacting much differently than Paddington right now.

“Aw, hi, baby!” Sam says, leaning down to pet Paddington and scratch him behind the ears. When Sam’s finished giving Paddington the attention he so richly deserves, Bucky’s pulled in for a long, heartbreakingly tender kiss that sends a shiver of want down the entire length of his spine. Sam and Steve exchange their own greetings while Bucky surreptitiously reaches up to rub at the goosebumps prickling at the sensitive skin at the back of his neck.

“Steve, you’re going to be OK watching Paddington tonight, right?” Bucky’s voice is threaded with the justifiable suspicion of someone who has known Steve Rogers for a lifetime.

Steve’s mouth drops open in offense. “Yes! Bucky, I know how to watch a dog.”

Bucky lifts Paddington’s tiny body and curls his arms protectively around him. “OK, well, Paddington is the most important thing in the world to me, and you are literally the least responsible person I know, so.”

“What? Bucky, I’m—that’s—I’m Captain America. I’m famously responsible.”

“Sam is Captain America, Steve. I feel like you’re not moving on. Also my brain might be a giant lump of small curd cottage cheese now, but I still remember that you’re a reckless idiot.”

Sam gives Steve a sharp look of his own and says, “Steve, Paddington is very important to Bucky’s therapy and also to our therapy as a couple—” Sam pauses, then adds, “of coworkers. So make sure you give him his favorite treats, but don’t give him too many treats, and make sure he doesn’t pull the squeaker out of his stuffed alligator—”

Bucky and Sam lead Steve to the door while Sam continues to debrief Steve on all of Paddington’s most important feelings and preferences. “You should really be writing all of this down, Steve,” Sam says with a frown.

Steve sighs. “I have an eidetic memory.”

“All right, well, if we pick him up in the morning and he has an upset tummy, I will literally kill you, and Sam—the trustworthy Captain America—will be my alibi,” Bucky says.

Sam nods in solemn agreement.

Bucky and Sam part from Paddington with identical expressions of worry as Steve walks him down the hall to his apartment.

As soon as Steve’s door closes, Bucky is all over Sam, pressing him against the wall and skimming his lips over the warm skin of Sam’s neck. God, Sam smells incredible, like tobacco and vanilla and oiled leather, and somehow the masculine scent of him travels down Bucky’s windpipe and directly to his cock.

“Hi,” Bucky breathes.

“Hey, baby,” Sam murmurs, tipping his head back to let Bucky’s lips trail along his throat to his jawline. Bucky’s just getting really into it, his hips pressing insistently against Sam’s, when the timer for the oven goes off.

Over dinner, Bucky and Sam talk and laugh about their coworkers as the candlelight does frankly amazing things for Sam’s bone structure. Bucky squirms in his chair and tries to will away the flush he can feel spreading up his neck when Sam compliments Bucky on the romantic lighting and the beautiful place settings. Fuck, he’s supposed to be giving Sam quality time here, and instead Sam’s using that quality time to offer Bucky more words of affirmation. Bucky’s not really ready to concede this battle just yet, but he’s definitely starting to craft a defeat narrative for himself about the lack of shame in being beaten by the best.

And Sam is definitely the best.

“That chicken was incredible.” Sam pats his stomach and groans in satisfaction. “You know that’s just how my mama always makes it?”

Bucky wonders if it would be weird to divulge that he actually broke into Sam’s mother’s house to sneak a look at her recipe cards. That’s normal intelligence gathering, right? Bucky made sure Sam’s mom was out of the house when he entered, and afterward he sent a team of security specialists to give her a better alarm system setup—”compliments of SHIELD, ma’am”—when he realized that her house was way too easy to break into. And Bucky’s dad always said to leave things better than you found them, so if anything Sam’s mom is probably safer now than she was before the world’s most legendary assassin crept into her house to rifle through her personal belongings.

He feels like Natasha would agree with him but he also feels like Natasha is probably just as batshit insane as Bucky and Steve are. Bucky has literally no normal friends and he should probably start spending more time with Sharon Carter.

After dinner, Sam looks relaxed and sated, his eyes warm and heavy-lidded as he watches Bucky shiver under his praise. “You know you have a praise kink, right?”

“Yes, Sam,” Bucky says, and tries to refrain from rolling his eyes. “Steve and I did a ton of research and watched, like, hours of porn together. We figured it out.”

“You and Steve have some serious boundary issues.” Sam shakes his head and grins in amusement. “But seriously, though, you’re not just hooking up with me because you imprinted on me after I made your dick hard or something, right? I mean, I remember the first time I got a boner after being deployed. I cried like a baby, so I get it, man, but—”

“Actually, I sort of wanted to talk to you about that,” Bucky says, his stomach swimming with nerves. This is the moment he’s been anticipating and dreading since he planned this whole date night op. “I was thinking—how would you feel about taking this competition to the next level?”

Sam’s brow furrows. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I just think we’d both have more time and energy to devote to this competition if we were competing, you know, exclusively.”

“Ah.” Sam’s expression clears and a slow smile spreads across his handsome face. “You want to be boyfriends.”

“I want to be boyfriends,” Bucky confirms with a decisive nod.

He may be losing this love language competition by about a hundred and fifty points, but Bucky still has some fight in him yet. And between work and sex and co-ownership of Paddington, Bucky’s already spending so much time with Sam that there’s no real way to increase the amount of time in “quality time”—but he can improve the quality of that time. If Bucky and Sam are boyfriends, Bucky figures, all that quality time should automatically count for more points than the quality time they spend together as coworkers with confusing feelings for each other, right?

Bucky’s lungs burn as he holds his breath held in anticipation of Sam’s response.

“Yeah, let’s be boyfriends,” Sam says, with a grin tugging at his lips.

Bucky’s heart soars in victory.

***

Bucky and Sam have decided not to bring Paddington with them to any future therapy appointments just in case Dr. Carson tries to take him away like Cruella de Vil.

This week, however, Dr. Carson shows up their session with a whole new vibe. Instead of striding imperiously into her office in her usual stern fashion, Dr. Carson blows in fifteen minutes late with the casual energy of a high school senior during the last week of school. She walks over to her desk, flip-flops slapping against her feet, and reclines back in her chair to prop her feet up onto the polished surface of her solid oak desk. She’s dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie like a suburban mom in an airport waiting to fly down to Miami for a Caribbean cruise.

“So how’s it going this week, boys?” Dr. Carson asks, slurping from the straw of her Big Gulp soda.

“Um, great.” Sam eyes her cautiously. “Bucky and I are boyfriends now.”

“No shit!” Dr. Carson says, and tilts her head back to squint down at them. “Huh. What do you know about that.” Then she shrugs. “Tell me how it happened.”

So Bucky and Sam tell her every detail of the last week, including the way they tenderly made love after Sam agreed to be Bucky’s boyfriend. Dr. Carson is clear-eyed and engaged the entire time, even during the five full minutes Sam devotes to the ripple of Bucky’s abdominal muscles as he strains toward orgasm, and Bucky’s just starting to think that maybe they can get some real therapy out of Dr. Carson when she says—

“So Fury’s transferring me to Hawaii.”

Bucky’s mouth drops open. “What?”

“Yup.” Dr. Carson burrows deeper into her chair and lets out a relaxed sigh before taking another loud sip of her soda. “This is our last session!”

“So do we have a new therapist after this, or?” Sam waves his hand uncertainly.

“Nah, I’m just gonna go ahead and tell Fury that you guys are doing great. You’ve officially graduated therapy.”

Bucky chokes on air. “Excuse me, what? We graduated therapy?”

“Sure, why not?” Dr. Carson says with a lazy shrug. “Despite literally all of my expectations to the contrary, it seems like you guys have actually formed a stable partnership. Just, you know, maybe stop fucking so much at work.”

Bucky scoffs. “Listen, I didn’t give my life fighting Nazis in World War II—” he begins.

***

After Bucky and Sam’s appointment with Dr. Carson, Sam receives a text asking him to meet Fury in his executive suite.

Bucky heads back to his own office—his real one, buried deep within the bowels of SHIELD in a secret interrogation room someone bricked up the entrance to and then forgot about years ago. Bucky discovered it while crawling through the air ducts to place surveillance equipment in the offices of Nick Fury and the major SHIELD department heads. Once Bucky disposed of the mummified body he found inside—which, wow, super gross—it made the perfect private office space and server room.

Bucky opens his surveillance software just in time to hear Fury tell Sam that Bucky broke his best therapist.

“Dr. Carson is a highly trained professional at the top of her field,” Fury says, his voice stern. “I had to offer her a fifty percent raise to lure her away from private practice, and now I’m sending her away from D.C., where all of my elite agents reside, to Honolulu, which is where I send all the useless nepotism agents I’m forced to hire by the World Security Council. I don’t know what Barnes did to that woman but he just cost me a very experienced and expensive mental health professional.”

“And what makes you think Agent Barnes is at fault?”

“Dr. Carson is obviously not at liberty to divulge any specifics about what was said during your therapy sessions, but she did note that your bickering was ‘maddening’ and that she, quote, hadn’t even realized it was possible to overshare during therapy. She also indicated that Barnes instigated an invasive and traumatizing background check that caused her a great deal of personal distress.’”

“Given Agent Barnes’s history with SHIELD, I think it’s perfectly understandable that he may have sought reassurance that Dr. Carson wasn’t an agent of HYDRA.” Sam’s voice is bland and pleasant. “It’s hardly Agent Barnes’s fault that Dr. Carson turned out to have a surprisingly messy personal life.”

“Be that as it may, I’m suspending Barnes from active duty until he passes a second psych eval from another therapist.”

“With all due respect, sir, Agent Barnes has been nothing but cooperative in this retaliatory investigation into his mental state. He’s a skilled and creative fighter, a selfless and generous partner, and a brilliant tactician. He deserves to be treated with the same respect as any other SHIELD agent who hasn’t shot you.”

Jesus Christ, is Sam offering Bucky words of affirmation even when he’s not there to hear them? What kind of love language master is Sam? God, how can Bucky possibly compete with this?

Fury’s voice is strangled. “Retaliatory?”

“Yes,” Sam says firmly. “As far as I’m aware, Agent Barnes has cleared all mandatory psychological evaluations and then some. If you have a problem with his—or my—behavior in the workplace, I suggest you carefully review our employment contracts and initiate the appropriate disciplinary proceedings. In the meantime, I will be continuing with Agent Barnes as my partner. There will be no suspension.”

The sound of Fury’s office door slamming shut is unexpectedly erotic.

By the time Sam slides through the secret passageway into Bucky’s office, Sam looks calm and collected, like he hasn’t just returned from facing down a man with the power and authority to send him to one of a half-dozen black sites so secret they probably exist on other planets.

“So how’d the meeting go?” Bucky asks, suppressing a grin.

“Oh, it was fine,” Sam says with a nonchalant wave of his hand. “We don’t have to do therapy anymore.”

Bucky lets his smile spread across his face. “Oh, yeah? No more retaliatory investigations into my mental state?”

When Sam realizes how Bucky must have overheard that remark, his eyes widen in delight. “I’m sorry, did you bug Fury’s office? Bucky Barnes, you crazy asshole, I love you so fucking much.”

Bucky freezes. Sam loves him? Adrenaline and exhilaration race through Bucky’s veins, spreading through his entire circulatory system until he feels like he’s going to buzz right out of his skin. For the second time in Bucky’s life, he’s been flung straight over the side of a cliff, except this time Sam has wings to catch him. God, this is why they call it falling, isn’t it?

Bucky is feeling so fucking affirmed right now. He has never felt so affirmed in his entire life.

And Bucky’s lost that stupid competition now, hasn’t he. There’s no way Bucky can compete with that declaration, no way he can pull off a victory after Sam just earned himself, like, fifty million points—but when Bucky looks at Sam’s gap-toothed grin, he thinks maybe, just maybe, he’s secretly won after all.

And he does have one last, best card to play.

“Hey, Sam,” Bucky says, with a wide grin, “how do you feel about moving in together?”

#marvel cinematic universe #bucky barnes #sam wilson #bucky barnes x sam wilson #winter falcon #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #steve rogers x natasha romanoff #old man steve has no power here #fuck old man steve #natasha romanoff lives #idiots in love

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luv4fandoms · 4 years

Text

Earth Angel (GabrielXOFC) Part 2.1

Part 2 is finally here!! I had to split it into 2 parts because of Tumblr's limit but the link to the 2nd part can be found below.

I'm so glad everyone is enjoying this story! I loved all of the comments and asks I got on the last chapter ❤. Sorry this one took so long to get out, my mom and I are trying to kinda start a small business so that has been my focus lol. But as I say in all the chapters...

This doesn't fully follow the Supernatural timeline, somethings have been changed (like Gabriel's death in the au world cause it was stupid and I refuse to accept it lol) so just a heads up. This is also inspired by @askpsychocas 's Angel Courting Ritual post (which I use in my story. Askpsychocas if you want me to take those parts out let me know and I will). This story also has a Scott Pilgram vibe lol.

If you would like to be added to the story taglist let me know

Part 1...Part 2.2...Masterlist

Pairings: Gabriel x Original Female Character, (hint at Destiel)

Warnings: Killing, Adultery, Gabe being a charming/fluffy lil sh*t

Word count: (total) 8,724 (this part) 4,199

https://ko-fi.com/luv4fandoms

(From @askpsychocas 's Angel Courting Ritual)

Step Two: Make your intention known.

Sometimes your intended will not recognize your intent straight off. There are a number of ways angels would seek to subtly inform their intended.

Making eye contact is essential.

Make sure your intended recognizes your impressive plumage and strength.

Personal space must be intruded on as often as possible.

If all else fails an angel might simply tell their intended.

Traditional courting outlines this, and if the intention is accepted you may proceed to the next step. An angel may also receive a courting trinket as a sign of intent and goodwill if they accept the courting. Angels can only court one other at a time. Neither the wooer or the wooed are allowed to accept advances, or give advances to another.

Modern courting is more direct, in which an angel would simply ask to go out on a date, perhaps with a smile. Smiling and good humor are not necessary for any courting, but most are apt to use it when trying to woo a human, as they get confused without such things. Exclusivity is not necessary.

Earth angel, Earth angel, the one I adore

Love you forever, and ever more.

I'm just a fool, a fool in love with you.

I hadn't planned on living with the boys, stay a few days sure, then back on the road...But here I am, a week in, still at the bunker and helping them look for a new case. It was actually really easy living with them, growing up with older brothers probably helped, that and the fact Sam and Dean were just easy to get along with. I had met their friend, and Gabriel's brother,Castiel a few days into my stay, a very quiet guy who would randomly appear out of nowhere, which I noticed Gabriel did often as well. The thing was-Castiel didn't have wings,or at least if he did, he didn't show them off like Gabriel. I also noticed that most of the time when Cas would show up, Gabriel would be gone, and if he did show up Cas would excuse himself quickly. Speaking of Gabriel, he had been acting...odd? Or maybe it was normal for him? I noticed that Cas often stood extremely close to Dean a lot, so maybe invasion of personal space was just a family thing? Either way I noticed Gabriel seemed to always find a way to be very close. Reading some lure in the library? Gabriel plops himself in the seat next to me. Looking up some cases on my laptop while on the couch? Gabriel appears out of nowhere right next to me, causing me to almost throw my computer.

One time I was even baking a pie as sort of a thank you to the boys and when I turned around Gabriel was right there, causing me to jump and almost fall backwards, and of course him making a joke about me "falling for him" when he caught me. Another thing was the fact that Gabriel was always the first one to help if I needed to get something out of storage for the boys that I didn't realize would be as heavy as it was, or anything needing a lot of strength really. I would have joked about not being a damsel in distress, but it seemed he already knew that as he would only help when he knew I would really need it. He also seemed to be almost flaunting his wings more, or at least happily stretching them often, I had noticed that they seemed much fuller than they did back on the hunt, they were still the same beautiful golden color, but they seemed...Healthier? They were impressive really, but I tried not to get caught looking at them, I still didn't know what the custom was since no one talked about them. Another thing Gabe did was a lot was eye contact, which for someone like me who usually never held eye contact for long, it was different-or maybe it was cause Gabriel had such pretty eyes that one just had to look away from them or you would be lost forever. Either way when I spoke I always seemed to have his full attention,which, after growing up around guys that would just brush you off cause you were both a girl and the youngest, was nice. It took a couple more days before we got a new case, a bunch of women being killed by their boyfriends, fiance, husbands, all of who claimed they didn't remember doing the killings. The case came in from the boy's friend Jody in Sioux Falls,so right away we were loading up our cars and heading out. Jody had emailed the police reports to Sam who in turn emailed them to me, which Gabriel read while I followed the boys.

"So, first up we have the lovely Mr and Mrs Tucker. Married for thirty years, two kids, and a dog...Is that just the thing to do? Kids leave the nest, the house is empty,it's finally you and your wife again after eighteen plus years and you think, what do we do now? I know! Let's get a dog!" Gabriel laughed.

"One, dogs are awesome" I started with a smile

"Oh don't get me wrong, I love them, used to have a little Jack Russel myself, but it just seems to be what people do" Gabe added

"That is true...I wonder why that is...Dangit Gabe now you have me wondering why old people insist on pushing their love onto animals instead of focusing on this case" I laughed, which caused him to chuckle as well before he turned back to the computer.

"Always ready to be a distraction sugarplum"

"So what did the lovely Mr Tucker have to say for why he slaughtered his wife?" I asked.

"Well, it says here that he said, and I quote, I don't know what came over me, I loved my wife, she was my everything, sure we had our problems but doesn't every couple?"

"Not problems that are bad enough to kill over"

"Says he doesn't remember the act, just before and after the deed"

"And all of the men say this?" Gabriel quickly scanned the files before replying

"Yup, everyone is a blank"

"So we have how many couples?"

"Six, three happily married, one engaged, and two dating" I thought about it for a moment, couples that seemingly had no problems but the woman always ended up dead, at the males hand.

"I can see the gears turning in that pretty little head of yours" Gabriel spoke, breaking the silence of the car.

"Come on" he added, closing the laptop and giving me his full attention. I looked over for a moment and almost wished I hadn't, there he went with the eye contact again-had they always had an almost gold color to them? Like they could match his wings? As if sensing my fascination a grin spread on his face before he spoke again.

"Like a buddy cop movie, you can be the serious one who's all about the job"

"And which one are you?" I asked with a smile, finally able to break my gaze away.

"The loveable comic relief of course!" He smiled.

"Now come on Sugar, you're already thinking something"

"Well for one, these couples weren't as happy as they said they were"

"Duh"

"And it's the men who kill the women"

"Correct"

"As subconsciously I bet, a brutal way to get out of said problemed relationship.

"Ok, I think I am picking up what you're putting down"

"What is probably the number one thing that can put the final nail in the coffin on a man ending a relationship?"

"A beautiful woman"

"Exactly my lovely partner, throw in a little supernatural flair to that and we may have men forgetting just what they were doing"

"Don't let anybody ever tell you that you're just a pretty face" he smiled.

"Oh Sweetheart I am so much more than just a pretty face" I replied with a wink, watching as his wings ruffle a bit at the action.

"I also have enough issues to fill Texas" I laughed, watching as he laughed as well, one which I hadn't seen before, this one looked far more..Relaxed.

"Don't we all Sugar, don't we all"

A couple of gas stops later and we were parking outside of the Sioux Falls police station. I had changed into more of a "detective" style outfit consisting of a white button up top, black blazer, black pencil skirt and black heels at the last gas stop. Though keeping my focus on the road after that was hard since Gabriel had also changed, and boy did he pull off a suit. The black button down tucked into black slacks and partially hidden under a black blazer and tie, ZZTop's words never rang so true until that moment, every girl really was crazy about a sharp dressed man. I tried to keep my eyes on the road as much as possible, especially after getting caught twice by those golden honey eyes, but if the extra confidence in his walk on our way into the station said anything it was that he had noticed every glance.

"There you two a--" a woman's voice spoke behind us but stopped suddenly, I turned towards the sound, noticing a woman who appeared in her late thirties, or maybe early forties.

"Jody, this is Liz and Gabriel" Sam told her while making his way over to her, followed by Dean.

"Oh right, yeah sorry you mentioned them on the phone, it's been a crazy week" she sighed.

"You ok?" Dean asked, his hand resting on her shoulder, she smiled at him and patted his hand.

"Yeah, just...I knew these people, they were all happy...Normal"

"Nothing out of the ordinary?" Sam asked

"Unless you count Jamie not going to the bakery the night before she...she was forever bugging Cathy about how her wedding cake was coming along"

"That's why I called you guys, it doesn't look like it's up your alley, but something's not right here"

"And Claire?" Dean asked sternly

"I told her to stay out of this one but you know how she is"

"Alright well we're gonna need to talk to the husbands" Sam told her.

"Well we have three of them here, the other two were cases Donna sent over"

"So this thing started someplace else?" I asked, seemingly making the trio remember Gabe and I were still here.

"Over in Hibbing Minnesota" Jody replied before smiling.

"Sorry, I'm Sheriff Mills, Sam and Dean told me about you two" She added, shaking both of our hands.

"Pleasure to meet you Sheriff" Gabriel smiled, and I couldn't stop myself from looking over at him. He really could go from playful to professional if the situation called for it couldn't he?

"Right well, come on there are already two of the men in the interrogation rooms" she told us before leading the way. Dean and Sam took Martin Cowell, boyfriend to Stacy Young. While Gabriel and I took Jason Smith, fiance to Jamie Wilde. The man seemed regretful enough upon first glance, around mid thirties, black hair partially hiding brown eyes that were red from crying.

"Hello Mr.Smith I'm Agent Rose and this is my partner--" shit, I realized quickly, Gabriel and I hadn't talked about his fake FBI name.

"Agent Speight" he added, seeming realizing just as soon as I had.

"I think you may already know why we're here" I stated as we both sat on the other side of the table.

"Because of what I did to--I didn't mean to,"Jason stated, soon falling into tears.

"We just want to understand, we need you to tell us what happened," Gabriel explained,easily falling into his role. After a moment Jason started talking.

"We were out with our wedding planner, she was showing us a venue, this really fancy mansion, hell, it almost could have been a castle" he stopped to collect himself before continuing.

"Jamie always wanted to be a princess, so this place was perfect, even if it was expensive. We booked it and made our way home--We ate, went to bed...Jamie was still talking about the place" he laughed, seeming to remember how excited she had been.

"The next thing I know, I'm standing over her body..I don't…I don't know what happened" he trailed off into a whisper.

"Did you ever become irritated by Jamie wanting expensive things?" Gabriel asked calmly.

"I mean, she could get crazy but...I guess I kinda knew what I was getting into, Jamie came from a well off family...They always said she was too good for me...Guess they were right"

"Did you ever think about leaving Jamie?" I asked

"No never I-I mean…"

"Never looked at another woman? Never thought maybe life would be easier with someone else,maybe someone with a cheaper taste?"

The room went quiet for a moment before he sighed.

"There was once, Jamie had been getting crazy with all this wedding stuff..I just...I needed a break. So I said I was going to have a guy's night, and I went out of town, alone. I went to a bar, and met a girl there and...I'm not proud of what I did ok, but I would never have killed Jamie, if I didn't want to be with her I would have just left."

Before I could say anything a knock sounded at the door, Dean peeked his head in and motioned for us to come out.

"So do you think I'm guilty?" Jason asked when we stood up.

"Of killing your fiance, I can't share that. Of being stupidly unfaithful simply because times got hard, yeah, you're guilty of that" I stated before walking out, Gabriel following.

"You ok?" He asked as we made our way to Dean and Sam.

"Yeah just-long story" I sighed.

"So what were you able to find out?" Sam asked.

"Well he doesn't remember doing the deed as far as killing Jamie" Gabriel told him

"What do you mean as far as?"

"Well he did confess to getting it on with a random girl at the bar one night" Gabe added

"Really?" Jody asked, shocked.

"They seemed so happy"

"Martin confessed to cheating on Stacy as well" Dean added

"So we have two unfaithful men" Gabe stated

"I wonder if the others were able to keep it in their pants?" I wondered out loud.

"Right, why don't Dean and I go talk to Larry Tucker, Jody, if you could call Donna and ask them if there is any way to find out if their two cases were ever unfaithful or if anything odd happened before the killings?" Sam asked.

"Yeah I'll get right on it" Jody nodded before heading to her office to make the call.

"Jason had mentioned checking out a venue the day he killed Jamie, maybe we could check that out?" Gabriel asked with a shug.

"That's actually a good idea, maybe someone there saw something or someone suspicious" I nodded, before looking back at the boys who nodded as well. I stopped one of the officers who was walking past to get directions to a mansion in town that could pass as a castle like, lucky for us there was only one. Willington Manor, a spacious 20 bedroom 10 bath home that had a pool,hot tub, tennis court, large outdoor garden, and an extra 20 acres of green grass.

"Ever feel like you're in the wrong line of work?" I asked as we parked in front.

"If only you could have it all right?" Gabe asked as we stepped out.

"If only"

"Would you really want something like this?" He asked while we walked up the stairs.

"Eh, maybe not this, too many rooms to clean. But this much land would be nice,"

"You seem like a farm girl" he smiled before knocking on the door.

"Grew up with chickens and stuff but sadly never on an actual farm" I laughed before we heard the door opening, an elderly woman standing there.

"Hello, how can I help you?" She asked

"Hello ma'am, I'm Agent Rose, this is Agent Speight, FBI, we were wondering if we could ask you some questions about a couple that came here a few days ago, they were looking at your home for a wedding venue"

"Oh yes I remember them, such a lovely couple, terrible thing that happened, they seemed so happy" she told us as she stepped aside for us to enter.

"Yes is it, so nothing seemed...Off about Jason while he was here? Nothing that would have raised any flags?" Gabriel asked while glancing around before his attention rested back on the woman, who seemed to blush under his gaze.

'Welcome to the crowd' I thought.

"No he seemed perfectly lovely, seemed very compliant with everything his soon-to-be wife wanted, and between you and me, boy did she want a lot" she told us.

"Do you employ anyone ma'am?" I asked.

"Oh yes, I have a chief,a butler, two maids, and two grounds keepers," she replied, her eyes never leaving Gabriel, even as he looked over at me.

"And who all was here when Jason and Jamie was?" Gabriel asked her.

"Everyone was" she told him.

"Is everyone here now?" I asked

"Yes of cour-actually no, one of the maids that worked then I had to let go"

"Let go? How come?" Gabriel asked.

"Well I caught the little hussie trying to steal some of my jewelry, they were my great grandmother's, priceless heirlooms" she explained.

"You wouldn't happen to have employment papers would you? Or a name and description?" I asked

"I don't have papers, but I can tell you her name was Delilah"

'Probably a fake name' I thought

"and she was about five foot seven, long red hair that she kept up in a bun, pale skin. She was quiet,kept to herself but I noticed her often trying to make advances towards both of the grounds keepers...didn't work for her of course"

"How come?" Gabriel asked

"Their both gay" she chuckled.

"That will do it" I smiled

"Well thank you for your time ma'am" Gabriel smiled.

"If you think of anything else please contact the sheriff, she knows how to reach us" he added, charmingly, making the old woman grin like a teen.

"Most certainly Agent" she replied watching as he headed towards the door. She stopped me when I went to move.

"Are you two...You know?" She asked, stunning me for a moment.

"Ah, no we are strictly-"

"Well then, don't be afraid to send him my way dear" she replied with a wink, I let out an awkward laugh and nodded before heading over to the door. Once outside I couldn't help but laugh and shake my head while we headed to the car.

"Care to share with the class sweetheart?" Gabe asked once we got in.

"You are never to be left alone around old ladies" I chuckled.

"Oh? Did I not play the part well?"

"She asked me if we were together, and when I said no she told me not to be afraid to send you her way"

"Sharing is caring" he laughed

"No thank you" I replied with a small laugh.

"No threesomes?" He chuckled.

"Na I'm good, I don't like other people touching what's mine" I replied, glancing at him when I heard him inhale sharply. His wings seemingly wanted to stretch out but he held them down.

"Never pegged you as the possessive type" even his laugh sounded forced right now.

"Not possessive, like I wouldn't tell a guy what he could or couldn't do, I just draw the line at sharing him with someone else" I explained as we pulled up at the motel Dean had texted that he got two rooms at.

"Can you honestly say you would be completely fine with sharing a girl with another guy?" I asked as I shut the car off.

"Well I mean-" he started, wiggling his eyebrows, which only caused me to roll my eyes.

"If you really loved her, like head over heels"

"If she wanted to-"

"Never mind what she wanted, would you be comfortable watching another man put his hands on the woman you love?"

"No" he answered quickly, the gold color coming back to his eyes for a moment, before it was gone.

"See, we all have that in us, that feeling of wanting someone that is yours, just yours-"

"A mate" he answered quietly, almost as if he didn't mean to say it

"Yeah, a mate...I bet all these women thought they had found theirs...They never would have thought they would get cheated on and later killed by the ones who supposedly loved them so much"

"If they loved them so much, would they have fully given in to whatever influenced them?"

"No, I guess they wouldn't have" I sighed.

"This is why it's always us women who end up with a broken heart" I added while getting out of the car, missing the odd look Gabriel gave me. I knocked on the boy's room door, announcing myself, and waited only a few seconds before Sam opened the door.

"So what were you two able to figure o-" I stopped when I noticed a young blonde girl sitting on the bed looking beyond done with the boys.

"Ah Liz, Gabriel, this is Claire" Sam explained.

"Ooooh this is Claire" Gabriel nodded, leaving me completely clueless aside from remembering that the boys mentioned her while talking to Jody.

"Claire was working the case even though Jody told her not to" Dean replied while giving Claire a stern look.

"Ok and what have you all figured out?" She asked, but all of us stayed quiet, unsure if we should share information with the young huntress.

"How about this, tell us what you know and we'll tell you what we know" I stated.

"Liz" Dean started.

"She's a rebellious teen who is gonna work this case whether anyone likes it or not, at least this way she won't be running in blind" I explained, Sam and Dean shared a look, both not wanting to get Claire involved but knew I was right.

"Well it seemed Larry wasn't too faithful either, said he needed something exciting in his life since his marriage had gotten stale" Sam started.

"Did you talk to Peter Jones? He was Becky Davis's boyfriend, dude was a total creep" Claire added.

"He didn't try to-"Dean started but Claire just rolled her eyes.

"It wasn't anything I couldn't handle, trust me"

"Ok so all of the men were unfaithful, that plays into my theory" I sighed, sitting next to Claire.

"Theory?"Sam asked.

"Sweetcheeks here pretty much hit the nail on the head before we even got to the police station. Theorizes these men weren't happy, subconsciously wanted a way out, and something influenced them to find a way out" Gabriel explained, biting into a chocolate bar he made appear, I had noticed he did that a lot. He handed both Claire and I one, at first she seemed hesitant but then took it with a nod.

"So you think some supernatural babe is convincing these guys to kill the women they're with?" Dean asked.

"Does it seem that far fetched?" I asked

"Not compared to some other things we've faced.

"And I think we may know what she looks like, if she's not some sort of shifter anyways." I stated before eating some of the chocolate.

"The Madame of the mansion our lovely engaged couple were looking into, had recently fired a maid that had been working the day Jason was visiting. Said she was about five foot seven, red hair, and pale-Oh and kept flirting with the male employees" Gabriel told them.

"Wait that sounds like the woman people said they saw Peter flirting with the night he killed Becky" Claire stated

"Yeah it matches with what Jody just sent me too" Sam added while looking at his laptop.

"The two from Donna, both had been unfaithful in the past, and both had witness accounts of them talking to an unknown red haired female the day and night before each of them murdered their wives."

"So a chick who can influence guys, siren?" Claire asked.

"That would fit," I nodded.

"Not with what Jody just sent, this was found in Larry's house, I bet there is one in each of the houses" Sam stated spinning his laptop around to show us all.

"Is that?" Claire stated.

"A hex bag" Gabriel finished.

"Man I hate witches" Dean sighed.

"Should we call Rowena? Ask her if it's someone she knows?" Sam asked but Dean just shook his head.

"At this point after what she's cause, I don't care if Rowena does know her, she has to be dealt with"

"So how do we lure her out?" I asked

"Well she goes after couples right? Where is there a lot of couples right now?"Dean asked

"The fair is in town right now"Claire started

"But more people show up at night"

"Looks like we're going to the fair"Dean nodded, looking over at Sam who looked terrified.

"Don't worry Sammy, I'm sure it's clown free" he chuckled, earning a bitch face from his brother. We each went our ways after that to prepare. Jody picked up Claire, stating she would meet us at the fair later. I went to the room the boys got me to take a quick shower and the boys seemed to have the same idea.

Once night fully fell we headed out to the fairgrounds, hoping we could find this witch fast and end the case before someone else got hurt. But once we got there Gabriel turned to me, a smirk on his lips before he proposed his question.

"Why don't we up the ante? Try to lure her out ourselves while we're here?"

"What did you have in mind?" I asked.

"Let's make this a date"

I hope everyone is enjoying the story so far! It only gets better from here. And as I said before you can find the link to the 2nd part of this chapter

Here

Also some little facts, I gave Liz the agent name "Rose" because if I would have been born a boy my mom wanted to name me Axl Rose because she was a GNR superfan lol.

Also here is Gabriel in his suit for your viewing pleasure ~_^

Taglist

@sydknee624 @studentdoctorstark @ilearnedthatfromethepizzaman @ambivertedcroissant @sunny-shine44

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vermontparnasse · 7 years

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les miserables review - u.s. tour (hartford) 10/7/17

ok, here we go. sorry this took so long but i have never been less enthused to write a les mis review..... i hate to say it guys but this was probably the worst collective cast i have ever seen. half of them were playing the wrong role and almost none of them had any chemistry with one another... i realize it's still very early on in the tour and they didn't have a very long rehearsal period but that's no excuse for the national tour to come across as amateur community theatre, which is tragically what i felt like i was watching for most of those two and a half hours. i do have a couple of positive things to say and there were a few standout performances, but mostly..... yikes.

nick cartell as valjean: i guess he did the best he could given that he was very, very, very, very badly miscast. when your valjean would probably be a better fit for marius, you know you've got a problem. he was too young by at least fifteen years, and the way he sang the score was an insufferable series of riffs - he was basically ramin without the ego and without the shirt ripping. he was just very badly out of his depth. i was prepared to be kinder to him in the second act - his bring him home was quite good and he aged better than i'd thought he was going to - but then at the moment of valjean's death when he sang 'forgive me all my trespasses' he literally SPRANG out of the chair, like dying had rejuvenated him. it was bad guys.

josh davis as javert: does hayden tee have a brother........... anyway, the way he was singing the score i think he was trying to emulate earl by making his notes precise and crisp, but everything just came out really staccato and it was not pleasant to listen to. he also jutted out his jaw every time he wanted to look menacing which achieved a comedic disney villain effect, a la hayden. stars was definitely the highlight - he sang and acted it much better than anything else... otherwise, it was just a mess. he literally came across as drunk during his suicide - like he wasn't killing himself because of his inability to reconcile valjean's mercy with his personal view of the world, he was killing himself because he'd stayed at the bar too late and had one too many. i have no idea what sort of journey he thought his character was on, but it just wasn't javert.

melissa mitchell as fantine: i'm sorry but this woman cannot act to save her life...... the way she carried herself was so modern, i don't know how to explain it but the way she moved was just so off and it was really distracting? and her whole performance was just going through the motions, like "and still i dream he'll come to me... time to run to the left of the stage!" "life has killed the dream i dreamed.... time to glance over my shoulder dramatically!" it was just all so artificial and inauthentic, you could practically see the stage directions in front of her eyes. and don't get me started on the dying moment where she reaches her arm out and then collapses......... lord. bad.

jillian butler as cosette: she was good!! i mean... idk, i don't have a whole lot to say about her. after seeing sam hill and alex finke in the role repeatedly, both of whom are absolutely superb, it's kinda hard to live up to that... jillian didn't take it to the next level or expand on their performances in any way - it was a very basic, pared down, 'hi i'm sweet and lonely' cosette, but there's nothing wrong with that? she was solid and i have no complaints with her, but it wasn't a particularly memorable performance.

joshua grosso as marius: the best performance of the night, thank fuckin god!!!!!!!! it has been so long since i have seen an adequate marius!!!!!!!! i didn't agree with 100% of his choices (e.g., in AHFOL rather than singing "dear mademoiselle" he sort of squeaks it in a high pitched voice which is cute and appropriately awkward but i didn't totally connect w/ that decision because i love hearing that line sung) BUT he really understood the character and he didn't have too many moments like that of derailing the score. i loved how awkward and genuine he was with cosette, and i loved how serious his reaction was to valjean's confession. it was an all-around solid performance that was filled with the appropriate level of sincerity. my biggest complaint is the mientus-esque crocodile tears after eponine's death, but i'm tentatively blaming that on direction.

phoenix best as eponine: she was terrible. maybe she hadn't gotten any sleep the night before, because the whole time she looked like she'd rather be in bed. dead eyes, no expression, dead on her feet, fake punches looking incredibly weak and stagey, having to be dragged around the stage by the other actors. there was no fight to her, she was just resigned and dull. her voice is tinny and not terribly pleasant to listen to, but i'd have forgiven that for a solid performance... which unfortunately we did not get. though i WILL give her credit for on my own - there was some weird hammering or some shit going on backstage throughout that song but she pushed through admirably. but otherwise, she was a pretty big disappointment.

matt shingledecker as enjolras: chelsea said after the show "enjolras was a literal frat boy, was he leading them to a revolution or to the club?" and i can't really beat that. his enjolras basically was a rich young boy playing a game.

j. anthony crane as thenardier: he was rly fantastic!!!! god after cliff saunders and whoever tf else we had to suffer through on bway, i would have welcomed just about anyone.... i mean, i have long ago reconciled myself to the fact that i will never see this character played the way i'd like to in an ideal world, because he's just become OTT comic relief, and j. anthony crane certainly has those OTT moments (notably in dog eats dog) BUT compared to the sort of nonsense that we are used to, it is such a toned down performance and there's actually a hint of something sinister lurking beneath the comedy. i only hope he doesn't try to play up the laughs too much as the tour goes on.

allison guinn as mme. thenardier: meanwhile............ the most hammy performance i have EVER seen in this role. it's a rare day that i just try to ignore mme. t and focus on thenardier when they're on stage together, but here we are. god, she was insufferable, and she gave that kind of 'i'm so clever and above all of you' performance on top of the OTT humor that i absolutely loathe.

let's see, what else is there to say.

- 'give way, javert' is back after the sewers. not sure why but i'm into it.

- SO MANY actors were singing on the beat...... i think the foreman was the worst offender ('YOU. PLAY. A. VIR. GIN. IN. THE. LIGHT. BUT. NEED. NO. UR. GING. IN. THE. NIGHT.') but it was honestly so many cast members and it was distracting af???

- but otherwise, a rly promising ensemble!!!! i liked almost everyone who didn't have a main role lmao.

- though they RLY need to work on their blocking....... again, i know it's early in the tour so i'm rly hoping this improves, but this production was just messy. stage punches look fake, characters who are meant to interact at certain moments barely look at each other, just a lot of inauthentic movement that can only improve with more rehearsals.

- omg this is such a minor thing that i liked....... ok so you know how in the bway production they had fantine's first customer be the foreman? i never saw any particular reason for that, but in this production when fantine is being offered to the foreman she has her back turned, and when she's handed to him she turns around and he sees her face and he laughs when he recognizes her, and the irony of the moment is so sad that i found myself rly moved by it.

- andrew love is a fuckin gift. will someone make him principal javert already.

bottom line: what can i say....... i was mostly just rly let down. of the nine main roles i mentioned here, i really enjoyed two (one of which was thenardier lmfao like who even cares about thenardier???), i didn’t mind one, and the rest were just bad. that’s 2/3 of the main cast i thought were either playing the wrong role or had no business playing any role in les mis at all. i can only hope they get stronger as a group as the tour goes on, because maybe if i’d felt more camaraderie between them the whole thing wouldn’t have left me so cold? that was one of les mis bway’s strengths imo - the entire cast just worked so well together. the tour cast did not. unless i hear that they get better in upcoming months, i will not be making any more pilgrimages to see this cast.

#review

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johnchiarello · 5 years

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Kings 15

KINGS 15

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1Kings 15:4 Nevertheless for David’s sake did the LORD his God give him a lamp in Jerusalem, to set up his son after him, and to establish Jerusalem:

Kings 15 videos-

https://youtu.be/RuWHi4CgLE8

https://1drv.ms/v/s!Aocp2PkNEAGMhDfLrbdhsVBNCJZl

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ON VIDEO- .Motorcycle story .Dollar store too .Review last few chapters .For David’s sake .Good sons- bad sons .Prophecy fulfilled .Good kings build .Strategies for kingdom builders .The decree .Scripture reading as worship .Develop the habit .Not just stories

TEACHING- [Past posts below]

Why am I still teaching Kings? I explain on video.

Just a few practical things here- We see the heirs to the thrones [both Israel and Judah] and how their sons after them often follow the footsteps of their dads- but not in every case.

Usually those with short reigns- are leading the people down wrong paths- and those with longer rule- are attempting to do what is right.

Asa- king of Judah- does right- has a 41 year reign- and he is a builder. Yet- in times of trouble- he takes the restored wealth- and hires the king of Syria to fight against Baasha- king of Israel- in order to stop Baasha from fighting him.

Baasha was building Ramah- a city that was vital to the survival of Judah- and the king of Syria does his ‘hired’ job- breaks a covenant he had with the king of Israel and attacks him.

Baasha- the Israelite king leaves off building of Ramah- and goes home to protect his own turf. Then Asa makes a decree- and he uses all the stones that were being built against him- and builds good out of them.

The lesson is clear- what the enemy meant for evil- Asa turned it around- and built the kingdom [or 2 cities]-

Just a note- down the road we will read a rebuke that God gave to Judah- because they trusted in the arm of the flesh in hiring the king of Syria- and did not trust wholly in the Lord. But the idea was good at least- in using the enemies rocks- and making something good out of it.

I’ll add my past teaching on this chapter below- and simply end this note by encouraging you- what roadblocks have you had to deal with on your journey? Have they seemed unfair?

Often times they do- But turn it around- wait on the Lord- maybe for a season you will have to put the building project off- because of a fierce battle.

Fine- fight the battle- but don’t forget to get back to the task at hand. You are a builder of the kingdom of God.

The rulers of this world did something- they crucified the Lord of glory- But if they knew what they were doing at the time- they would have never done it-

1 Corinthians 2:8 Which none of the princes of this world knew: for had they known it, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory. In Context | Full Chapter | Other Translations

But they were simply carrying out the foreordained will of God.

And in the end- it worked out well. Genesis 50:20 But as for you, ye thought evil against me; but God meant it unto good, to bring to pass, as it is this day, to save much people alive. In Context | Full Chapter | Other Translations

PAST POSTS- [Past teachings I did that relate to this post- Verses below] https://ccoutreach87.com/acts-links/ https://ccoutreach87.com/2017/12/03/sunday-sermon-17/ KINGS- https://ccoutreach87.com/1st-2nd-samuel-links-updated-3-17/ [see 2nd Sam 11-12- talked about it on today’s post- Kings 15] https://ccoutreach87.com/1st-2nd-kings/ https://ccoutreach87.com/2017/03/29/kings-2/ https://ccoutreach87.com/2017/04/12/kings-3/ https://ccoutreach87.com/2017/04/27/kings-4/ https://ccoutreach87.com/2017/05/04/kings-5/ https://ccoutreach87.com/2017/05/25/kings-6/ https://ccoutreach87.com/2017/06/17/kings-7/ https://ccoutreach87.com/2017/07/05/kings-8/ https://ccoutreach87.com/2017/07/18/kings-9/ https://ccoutreach87.com/2017/08/01/kings-10/ https://ccoutreach87.com/2017/08/22/kings-11/ https://ccoutreach87.com/2017/09/15/kings-12-3/ https://ccoutreach87.com/2017/10/19/kings-13-2/ https://ccoutreach87.com/2017/11/09/kings-14/

(927)2ND SAMUEL 11- David sends Joab and his men out to war. He stays home and takes a walk on his roof and spots Bathsheba. He sends a servant to contact her and he sleeps with her. He finds out she’s pregnant and the gears in his mind start moving. He calls her noble husband, Uriah, from the front lines of battle and pretends he just called him to inquire about the battle. He sends him home, hoping he will sleep with his wife, and then David will be off the hook. Sure enough Uriah is so noble that he refuses to sleep in his house when his men are in the battle. So David gives it a second shot and gets the brother drunk. He sends him home again and Uriah refuses to sleep with Bathsheba. So David calls for Joab, the lead commander of his army, and says ‘put Uriah in the front lines and draw back and let him die’. Something interesting happens. Joab carries out the plan but also allows some of David’s other men to die. Then he sends a messenger to tell David ‘we were at the front lines, close to a wall, and some of our guys were killed’. Joab tells the messenger ‘if David gets mad and says “what were you thinking by getting close to the wall? This is a basic mistake that should have never been made!”’ Joab says if David asks this, then say ‘Uriah is dead too’. It’s possible that Joab stuck it to David here for making him partake in his personal problems. Military men do not like carrying out personal political vendettas. Either way the messenger goes and tells David and David feels he covered up his sin. Of course we will soon find out the cover up didn’t work. Bathsheba does move in with David and they make plans for the coming baby. A few things; David was a great man, he followed God as a man ‘after Gods own heart’. David was also human. Hebrews says ‘every high priest taken from among men must make sacrifice for his own sin as well as the peoples’. I don’t want to excuse sin, but I want you to see that all of us have ‘feet of clay’. Modern ministry has a system where we present the best image of leadership to people. We feel this is part of the role of leaders. The scriptures show you ‘the good, the bad, and the ugly’. We just saw the ugly.

(928)2ND SAMUEL 12- Nathan confronts David over his sin. He gives a parable about 2 men in a town, one owned lots of flocks and sheep, the other owned one precious lamb. The man with all the sheep had a visitor come to him in need. So instead of sacrificing his own sheep, he went and took the precious ‘only lamb’ from his neighbor. David is incensed over this injustice, he declares ‘This man will pay back what he did and also die for this sin’! Nathan says ‘you are the man’. David realizes he did this very thing with Bathsheba and Uriah. Notice how we have a tendency to be enraged over the sin and faults of others, but we make room for ourselves when we are guilty of the same things. Jesus confronted the religious hypocrisy of his day when he showed the Pharisees that they were guilty of lust and anger and jealousy, the same root causes of murder and adultery. They wanted strict judgment on others who were guilty of the same sins that they were guilty of. Also the fact that the man with one little lamb lost his favorite, this speaks of the great sacrifice of giving up the ‘only begotten Son of God’. Jesus sacrifice was great because the father gave his only Son. Now David receives the reproof from the prophet and Gods judgment is pronounced ‘the sword will never leave your house. From within your own family treachery shall arise. Your wives will be taken from you and publicly disgraced. The son from Bathsheba will die’. Very strict judgment indeed, yet the Lord says ‘nevertheless, I will spare your life’. This was something David did not leave room for in his earlier judgment on the sheep stealer! David mourns and fasts for the child’s life, but the child dies. David has another son with Bathsheba and his name is Solomon. One of the greatest/wisest kings Israel will ever have. A few things; in David’s earlier scenario he said the ‘sheep stealer’ should pay restitution. He wanted the man to right the wrong. In David’s case he killed the very man whom restitution should have been made to! In essence his sin was so severe that it actually cut off part of his future reconciliation. Unforgiveness towards others falls into this same category. God requires us to forgive those who have wronged us. We often do every thing else under the sun to get back on track, but we ‘eliminate’ the very person that stands in the way of total reconciliation! That person is often times the offender. Also at the end of the chapter David is told by Joab that he is on the verge of taking a city and David should come and finish the job so Joab won’t get the credit. David musters his forces and finishes the job. One of the hardest things to do in ministry/service is to regroup and move forward again. David had some very serious issues he had to deal with. The situation with Bathsheba was not going away. He couldn’t completely resolve this issue. But he still needed to function and carry out his responsibilities. Faithfulness means sticking it out even thru your own personal failures. Completing the task to the best of your ability. At one point they asked David ‘why were you grieving and fasting while the boy was still alive, and after he died you ate and functioned again’? David said ‘who knows, when the boy was alive there was a possibility that God would change his mind and let the boy live. After he died there was nothing else I could do’. Most of us would have been angry at God. David didn’t have all the answers, he knew Nathan was an accurate prophet. The things Nathan said were from the Lord. But David also was ‘from the Lord’. He too had a relationship with God. He depended on this relationship to guide him thru stuff. Maybe God would do something? David did not have all the answers. And when God didn’t do what he wanted, he didn’t take it personal. He moved forward the best he could. God showed tremendous mercy in allowing this sinful situation to produce a future king. Solomon was born from this turmoil and he was a great man of God. Look to the lord to bring forth wisdom from the failures in your life. The ‘first son’ might not have survived, but the second son just might be a prodigy.

[parts]

VERSES- [These are the verses I either quoted or taught on today’s post- Kings 15- Links to all my sites below]

Proverbs 13:19 The desire accomplished is sweet to the soul: but it is abomination to fools to depart from evil. In Context | Full Chapter | Other Translations Psalm 16:10 For thou wilt not leave my soul in hell; neither wilt thou suffer thine Holy One to see corruption. In Context | Full Chapter | Other Translations Acts 2:27 Because thou wilt not leave my soul in hell, neither wilt thou suffer thine Holy One to see corruption. In Context | Full Chapter | Other Translations

1Kings 15:1 Now in the eighteenth year of king Jeroboam the son of Nebat reigned Abijam over Judah. 1Kings 15:2 Three years reigned he in Jerusalem. and his mother’s name was Maachah, the daughter of Abishalom. 1Kings 15:3 And he walked in all the sins of his father, which he had done before him: and his heart was not perfect with the LORD his God, as the heart of David his father. 1Kings 15:4 Nevertheless for David’s sake did the LORD his God give him a lamp in Jerusalem, to set up his son after him, and to establish Jerusalem: 1Kings 15:5 Because David did that which was right in the eyes of the LORD, and turned not aside from any thing that he commanded him all the days of his life, save only in the matter of Uriah the Hittite. 1Kings 15:6 And there was war between Rehoboam and Jeroboam all the days of his life. 1Kings 15:7 Now the rest of the acts of Abijam, and all that he did, are they not written in the book of the chronicles of the kings of Judah? And there was war between Abijam and Jeroboam. 1Kings 15:8 And Abijam slept with his fathers; and they buried him in the city of David: and Asa his son reigned in his stead. 1Kings 15:9 And in the twentieth year of Jeroboam king of Israel reigned Asa over Judah. 1Kings 15:10 And forty and one years reigned he in Jerusalem. And his mother’s name was Maachah, the daughter of Abishalom. 1Kings 15:11 And Asa did that which was right in the eyes of the LORD, as did David his father. 1Kings 15:12 And he took away the sodomites out of the land, and removed all the idols that his fathers had made. 1Kings 15:13 And also Maachah his mother, even her he removed from being queen, because she had made an idol in a grove; and Asa destroyed her idol, and burnt it by the brook Kidron. 1Kings 15:14 But the high places were not removed: nevertheless Asa’s heart was perfect with the LORD all his days. 1Kings 15:15 And he brought in the things which his father had dedicated, and the things which himself had dedicated, into the house of the LORD, silver, and gold, and vessels. 1Kings 15:16 And there was war between Asa and Baasha king of Israel all their days. 1Kings 15:17 And Baasha king of Israel went up against Judah, and built Ramah, that he might not suffer any to go out or come in to Asa king of Judah. 1Kings 15:18 Then Asa took all the silver and the gold that were left in the treasures of the house of the LORD, and the treasures of the king’s house, and delivered them into the hand of his servants: and king Asa sent them to Benhadad, the son of Tabrimon, the son of Hezion, king of Syria, that dwelt at Damascus, saying, 1Kings 15:19 There is a league between me and thee, and between my father and thy father: behold, I have sent unto thee a present of silver and gold; come and break thy league with Baasha king of Israel, that he may depart from me. 1Kings 15:20 So Benhadad hearkened unto king Asa, and sent the captains of the hosts which he had against the cities of Israel, and smote Ijon, and Dan, and Abelbethmaachah, and all Cinneroth, with all the land of Naphtali. 1Kings 15:21 And it came to pass, when Baasha heard thereof, that he left off building of Ramah, and dwelt in Tirzah. 1Kings 15:22 Then king Asa made a proclamation throughout all Judah; none was exempted: and they took away the stones of Ramah, and the timber thereof, wherewith Baasha had builded; and king Asa built with them Geba of Benjamin, and Mizpah. 1Kings 15:23 The rest of all the acts of Asa, and all his might, and all that he did, and the cities which he built, are they not written in the book of the chronicles of the kings of Judah? Nevertheless in the time of his old age he was diseased in his feet. 1Kings 15:24 And Asa slept with his fathers, and was buried with his fathers in the city of David his father: and Jehoshaphat his son reigned in his stead. 1Kings 15:25 And Nadab the son of Jeroboam began to reign over Israel in the second year of Asa king of Judah, and reigned over Israel two years. 1Kings 15:26 And he did evil in the sight of the LORD, and walked in the way of his father, and in his sin wherewith he made Israel to sin. 1Kings 15:27 And Baasha the son of Ahijah, of the house of Issachar, conspired against him; and Baasha smote him at Gibbethon, which belonged to the Philistines; for Nadab and all Israel laid siege to Gibbethon. 1Kings 15:28 Even in the third year of Asa king of Judah did Baasha slay him, and reigned in his stead. 1Kings 15:29 And it came to pass, when he reigned, that he smote all the house of Jeroboam; he left not to Jeroboam any that breathed, until he had destroyed him, according unto the saying of the LORD, which he spake by his servant Ahijah the Shilonite: 1Kings 15:30 Because of the sins of Jeroboam which he sinned, and which he made Israel sin, by his provocation wherewith he provoked the LORD God of Israel to anger. 1Kings 15:31 Now the rest of the acts of Nadab, and all that he did, are they not written in the book of the chronicles of the kings of Israel? 1Kings 15:32 And there was war between Asa and Baasha king of Israel all their days. 1Kings 15:33 In the third year of Asa king of Judah began Baasha the son of Ahijah to reign over all Israel in Tirzah, twenty and four years. 1Kings 15:34 And he did evil in the sight of the LORD, and walked in the way of Jeroboam, and in his sin wherewith he made Israel to sin.

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http://corpuschristioutreachministries.blogspot.com/p/one-link_18.html [Link to past teaching]

Video sites- [Can view and download my videos free of charge]

Streaming sites-

Youtube https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCZ4GsqTEVWRm0HxQTLsifvg?view_as=subscriber

Youtube Playlist- https://ccoutreach87.com/youtube-playlist/

https://www.flickr.com/photos/ccoutreach87/ [Most viewed]

https://www.dailymotion.com/ccoutreach87/videos [India]

https://www.bitchute.com/channel/jsS961GkXUSn/ [Most viewed]

https://vk.com/videos533663718 [Russia]

https://www.facebook.com/john.chiarello.5/videos?lst=1779330793%3A1779330793%3A1546906912 [My Facebook videos]

https://www.instagram.com/john.chiarello/channel/ [IGTV]

https://www.brighteon.com/channel/ccoutreach87

https://vimeo.com/user85764413

https://ccoutreach87.com/youtube-catalog-2020/ [Youtube catalog- 2020]

Cloud sites-

https://1drv.ms/f/s!Aocp2PkNEAGMg0G_aInmCi8XUC-C

https://my.pcloud.com/publink/show?code=kZ1sXP7ZardKGRUxFByiFYi667jeup7MD1Sy

https://mega.nz/#F!7WQCSIJR!-4v9-zUQRq4MIQbBfI2n4A

https://www.dropbox.com/sh/d43nhtrgysqg493/AAAlCszxZXJoRtk8UudtuR9ma?dl=0

https://ln.sync.com/dl/3e1f4c5e0/tcnm9p32-xiwe4nbu-zjbkitqj-4fvemf6m

https://1drv.ms/f/s!Aocp2PkNEAGMg0MwmUCJ1XM3q9ui

https://icedrive.net/dashboard/#/cloud

Cloud sites- https://ccoutreach87.com/cloud-links-12-2018/

Inactive- work in progress-

https://sites.google.com/yahoo.com/ccoutreach87/home

http://johnchiarello.doodlekit.com/

http://corpus-christijohnchiarello.simplesite.com/

https://spark.adobe.com/page/6INKwX1tFT7WA/

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCxWXKfaFDZrfNUzloSqg8Kg?view_as=subscriber

Beta

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCYlLmUkKiB6VoWE9CB1UQew?view_as=subscriber ccoutreach87

https://www.facebook.com/ccoutreach1/?ref=aymt_homepage_panel&eid=ARCo7sBBI_1fHMUwrHJbFUGf73C6FmpZxtgTcWET2gVwpdHCKmXSGxs6wyeA-qGCnbsr2ILaXqpd4ACt [my page]

Note- Please do me a favor, those who read/like the posts- re-post them on other sites as well as the site you read them on- Copy text- download video links- make complete copies of my books/studies and posts- everything is copyrighted by me- I give permission for all to copy and share as much as you like- I just ask that nothing be sold. We live in an online world- yet- there is only one internet- meaning if it ever goes down- the only access to the teachings are what others have copied or downloaded- so feel free to copy and download as much as you want- it’s all free-

Note- I have many web sites- at times some question whether I’m a ‘bot’ because I do post a lot.

I am not a ‘bot’- I’m John- so please- if you are on the verge of deleting something- my contact email is [email protected] - contact me first- thank you- John

#God #Bible #Jesus #ccoutreach87 #Religion

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