#Wilson always assumes House is trying to ask him out

[biahouse]

Perfect for him, Gregory House x Reader

You're House's girlfriend. Wilson doesn't like you, but... 3 times Wilson realized you were the perfect person for house, +1 time he finally admits it

There was something about you that James Wilson made to hate you.

Maybe it was the way you were the silliest nurse at the hospital, and always fell for the patients' stupid conversations.

Or because you always do your coworkers' duties.

Or the way that in every surgery he performs, you insist on being an assistant nurse and talking to her throughout the procedure.

Or maybe he hated having his best friend stolen.

Wilson didn't hate people. That was House's job. It was even comical that in your situation, House adored you and Wilson hated you with all his being.

Don't get me wrong, you weren't a bad person.

He just doesn't like you.

1

The first time Wilson realized you were perfect for his best friend was at lunch. Since the beginning of the relationship between you and Greg, the doctor in question used to have lunch with you in his office.

But on that particular day, you were very busy in surgery. So with no other alternative, House had to have lunch with Wilson.

It was a surprise for James to see his friend entering the room with a packed lunch. House was known for eating junk food with all his meals. So Wilson assumed that if that hadn't changed with your relationship, he was wrong.

"What is that?" Wilson asked with an incredulous look at the lined pots that Gregory placed on the table.

"Food?" House responded as if it were obvious and mocked his friend.

"Okay, I know. But, I mean... you don't usually eat that."

"I know" House threw himself into the chair and opened one of the jars and started poking a carrot. "Carrots are a horrible thing, you know?"

"House" Wilson called his friend carefully. "Is this some kind of diet for addicts that I don't know about?"

"No. Y/n told me that I should eat more vegetables if I wanted to live longer" The doctor rolled his eyes when he remembered the argument he had with his wife a few weeks ago and since then she usually makes him lunch. "So I'm pleasing my girl" And with that he stuffed the orange vegetable into his mouth with a grimace.

Wilson could only look at his friend in shock.

For years he had tried to get House to eat a healthier diet, and you had achieved it in just a few weeks. Wilson had to admit, he liked you a little more now.

2

The second time Wilson realized you were perfect for his best friend was a week after the lunch incident. He and House were bowling, like they did on Wednesdays.

However, there was something strange about House. He was limping and in more pain than usual.

"What is it? Are you afraid of losing to me or did you forget the Vicodin at home?" Wilson mocked his friend as he threw the ball into the pins.

"Neither" House limped closer to the track when it was his turn to play.

"Is the pain getting worse?" Now James asked worried that Greg's leg was getting worse.

"No"

"Okay House, you win. Why are you in pain?"

"Because I'm trying to taper off the Vicodin" House replied with a shrug and celebrated without a strike.

"What?" Wilson raised his voice making people look at him. Which made him apologize immediately. "You. Gregory House, are you trying to stop Vicodin?"

"Y/n said it's going to kill me. She didn't suggest I stop taking it, but she was upset that I took so many. So I'm trying to cut down."

Wilson opened his mouth in astonishment.

Who was that man?

Gregory House would never cut down on your daily Vicodin cocktail.

But he did, for you.

Only for you.

3

The third time Wilson realized you were perfect for his best friend was on a random day at the hospital a few months after the second time.

House entered his office as he always did, without knocking and suddenly, which made Wilson jump out of his chair every time, even though he was used to it. But something felt wrong that time.

The way House for the first time looked nervous and really confused. For a while, James watched his friend limp around the room as if he was begging for something very deep in his own mind.

Wilson waited, he knew that like every other time House would start telling him about his doubts and he would give him one of his beautiful pieces of advice, which House would probably never follow.

"I want to ask Y/n to marry me" House blurted out and looked at his friend nervously.

"What?" Wilson blurted out the question with a laugh. "Marriage?".

"Yes" Greg said, shaking his head and plopped down on the armchair in his friend's living room. "I thought about it all week"

"All week?"

"Are you just going to repeat everything I say or are you going to tell me your opinion on this?" Greg scoffed at his friend and adjusted himself in the chair, his leg hurting a little.

"What do you want me to say House?" Wilson asked and looked through his patient's files once more, before closing the folder and focusing fully on the matter at hand. "I thought I would never get married"

"I know" House passed his hand across the gap in his forehead. "I don't know why I want it. I just want it."

"Gregory House doesn't know why, that's something I never thought I'd hear" James smiled playfully.

"For the first time I want something more. I want her to be my wife. Is that a bad thing?"

"No," Wilson answered honestly. "It just means you're better House."

"Does that mean you'll help me pick out a ring?"

"As long as you don't make me pay."

Wilson would never understand his relationship with House. Or how two very different people could do such great things together.

Wilson didn't hate you. He understood now. It was just jealousy that you achieved everything he always tried to do. Improve House.

He didn't hate you. Now he respected you.

+1

“Hey Y/n” Wilson called out your name when he saw you walking down the hall with a clipboard.

"Wilson, hi!" You waved at him enthusiastically. It was the first time he willingly spoke to you.

"I just wanted to say thank you" James said making the woman frown in confusion.

"What are you thanking me for? I don't remember helping you" Y/n questioned.

"But it helped, with House" Wilson explained. "I'm sorry for treating you badly all this time."

"You didn't treat me" Y/n shrugged with a smile. "I stole your best friend, it makes sense that you don't like me that much. But it means a lot that you like me now."

"I think you two are perfect for each other," Wilson admitted for the first time out loud. "I can't wait to be the godfather."

"Godfather?" Y/n asked.

"You'll see" Wilson smiled knowingly. “I’ll see you around Y/n.”

[shanastoryteller]

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

Dealer’s choice!!

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

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

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

Symmetry and ritual and all that.

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

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

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

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

They grow up so fast.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s noon,” she says coldly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

~

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

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

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

“Nope,” he answers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you want?” she asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Or your stubbornness,” she says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chase blinks several times. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What if he falls?” Chase asks.

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

“And if he flies?” she challenges.

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

~

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

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

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

He’s going to take it.

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

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

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

Cameron frowns. “He did pay for brunch.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe.

[greghatecrimes]

I had a thought for your baby thirteen au!

I always see house as the type of parent to have separation anxiety,so logically he'd take thirteen with him to the hospital and it'd actually go great,house barely had any contact with the patient so he could just chill and be silly with her while the ducklings took care of the patient

But this time it was different,the case got too complicated and he had to step into action,but he can't bring his baby daughter to an autopsy so he lets her in the care of the ducklings while he's in surgery.

Oh but little Remy isn't having none of that,she's restless and pouty and constantly asking for her daddy,but its when the water works start that the ducklings really panick

The quick solution would be take her back to her father but he was knuckles deep in someone's liver right now so they would be needing the next best thing

So they take her down to Wilson's office

I imagine one of them just barging into the room and handing her over to Wilson as she enthusiastically spreads her arms to him and saying "here,take her, all she does is ask for her daddy and we don't know what else to do" and leave with a very stunned Wilson behind.

What they didn't realise was Wilson had a patient a sweet old lady who misunderstood the situation and immediately assumed Remy was Wilson's daughter and she'd be all "aawn doctor Wilson your daughter is really sweet,whats her name?"

And before he can explain thirteen isn't his daughter she's just clinging to him and resting her head In the crook of his neck making that point very hard to believe.

"Remy,her name is Remy" that's all he'd say before keeping the appointment with the sweet old lady while holding a very sleepy yet content thirteen!

Anon, I cannot express in words how adorable this is and how much I love it!!!

I so agree w/you about House being a bit of a parent with separation anxiety. I think he'd be like 'well if she's with me all the time, then she doesn't have as many chances to get herself into something and then that eliminates the need for worry. if it works it works.' i think bby thirteen would have less separation anxiety than him when she's very little (lol) but he's definitely her favorite person in the entire world, and so of course she ends up missing him when he gets pulled away for something intricate on a case.

i haven't given thought to who the ducklings would be in the au (besides taub vaguely), but i LOVE the ducklings trying to fix things and failing, and being clueless and eventually taking her to wilson. of course they go to wilson. it would be even funnier if house and wilson are like, together at that point, but not publicly out/together yet? so the fellows don't know that house and wilson are in a relationship; they just know wilson's always with house and bby thirteen/remy, and that bby thirteen trusts him and adores him.

ough. her nuzzling into the crook of wilson's neck and clinging to him. and wilson inadvertantly saying/accepting that she's basically his daughter too. stepdad wilson!! i'm emotional and melting into a puddle.

House comes back from the autopsy to find his office filled with ducklings, but very childless. After the initial burst of panic and snapping at them "What did you idiots do? Where is she?!", he immediately goes to Wilson's office once he gets an answer from them. And he just stands in the doorway for a few minutes, watching Wilson do paperwork with bby Thirteen cuddled up to him, and House has the softest smile on his face. the kind that only comes out around wilson and his kid. and then he'd break the reverie to say to Wilson "Aw, you sap. you like her."

And Wilson looks like he's about to protest, but then thinks better of it because he glances down and sees Thirteen smiling up at him (because her dad's back! yay, both dads together!!). He grins a little and very softly says, "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

[housethemd]

Did Anybody Ask For My Personal Opinion On Who Wilson’s Other Brother Is? On The Larger Wilson Family Structure? On Wilson’s Life Before He Met House?

No? Okay perfect.

The oldest is David Wilson. He’s 4-5 years older than James. He was always smart, and received a lot of praise for all his success. He is a lawyer, and is married with two children. He married young, which thrilled his parents.

Then there is Danny Wilson. I assume Danny is short for Daniel. He is 2 years younger than James. He was always kind of a loner, and while James and Danny did play together as very young kids, the older Danny got the less he had any interest in playing with others, including James. He was prone to getting distracted or overwhelmed in public places and James was always the one to make sure he stayed safe. His parents were always at a loss with what to do with him, but James always seemed to understand him.

Then of course our beloved James Wilson. Middle child, living in the shadow of his older brother and his younger brothers keeper. His successes were never celebrated the way David’s were, because even if he got straight A’s (which he did) David always did it first, and his family seemed to find things less impressive the second time around.

Forced to grow up early to care for his younger brother, he had a hard time relating to kids his own age so he spent a lot of time at home watching movies and TV. He did extracurriculars through his school when he got to high school to pad his resume (he already knew he wanted to go to med school) and while everyone liked him, he didn’t have any close friends.

He learns how to become what people want him to be. How to cater to their needs. He spends his whole life being what everyone else needs him to be.

The first time he strays from that is when Danny calls while he’s in med school studying for that big exam. He hangs up on him, and then Danny goes missing. His family doesn’t understand how he could hang up on his brother like that, why he would do that, they think it’s so out of character for him.

He meets Sam, and desperately wanting to get back in his family’s good books he marries her quickly. He wants to follow in his older brothers footsteps, do what you are supposed to do, want what you are supposed to want. So he marries Sam.

Two years later they are getting divorced. He gets the papers right before a medical conference. He carries them around, without the will to open them. He hasn’t told his family yet.

Someone keeps playing “Leave a Tender Moment Alone” on the jukebox. He asks nicely for them to stop, he really does, he tries to be the bigger person, to keep to the persona that he only dropped once because last time he dropped it he lost his brother, but he can’t. He’s pissed off by the song, but more so he’s pissed off that his persona means he can’t do anything about it, why does everyone need him to be so nice all the time? Care about their problems? What about him? He’s a person too, what about his problems?

And the anger boils over. He throws a bottle, breaks a mirror, and gets arrested. He’s sitting in a jail cell, trying to figure out how he’s going to tell his family that not only is he getting divorced but he’s gotten arrested and feeling like he has the worst luck in the world when a police officer comes in and says a friend is bailing him out. He’s confused, he doesn’t have friends.

Outside the jail, he meets Gregory House.

For the first time someone sees past the persona. No matter what he does House always sees past it, to the person he really is. The person he convinced himself no one would like.

For the first time, he has a real friend.

[sarahwroteathing]

Project Amaranth (4)

[Bucky Barnes x Reader]

Word Count: 2268

Summary: Bucky and Sam move you to a new safe house.

Warnings: None

A/N: AH sorry, my loves. I had class tonight and didn't notice that the post didn't go through when it was supposed to. Nice to know that my queue still only works half the time. Reliably unreliable. Anyway! Happy Halloween!

Catch up here!

"How does he already look mad?" Sam sighed as the car cleared the last bend in the long, heavily forested road to Steve's house.

He was waiting on the porch, leaning on the rail with crossed arms and a displeased expression as he watched them approach up the gravel drive.

"His face got stuck that way when he was eight years old. Try not to take it personally," Bucky said mildly, smirking at the snort it elicited from Sam.

"Alright, I'll go talk to him. Let him know what's going on before we spring his new roommate on him"

"He's not going to say no," Bucky said, glancing at you where you sat in the backseat, hands tightly clenched in your lap.

"I know, but we still need to give him a chance to."

Sam put the car in park, pausing for a moment to meet your eyes in the rearview mirror.

"One way or another, we'll figure this out. We've never been good at giving up on people. You okay with me telling Steve everything you've shared with us so far?"

The corner of your mouth tugged down, but you nodded.

"Okay. I assume you two need to talk too. Bucky, I'll text you when we're ready for you. But take all the time you need."

With one last nod that seemed more for his own benefit than for yours or Bucky's, Sam climbed out of the car, leaving the keys in the ignition. You watched in silence as he approached Steve, clapping him on the shoulder and drawing him into a brief hug before gesturing him inside. Steve glanced towards the car curiously, but made no show of protest, disappearing into the house and closing the door behind them.

"You didn't warn him," you said quietly. "About me. He doesn't know I'm here or what you're going to ask him to do."

Though your words had a ring of accusation, your voice was flat, emotionless. He knew it well. It never meant anything good.

With a bracing breath, Bucky unbuckled his seatbelt and climbed out of the car, moving quickly to join you in the backseat before you could jump to any dangerous conclusions. You looked a little startled by his sudden closeness, but you tried to hide it, scooting a couple inches away from him while masking it as a change in position. Your shoulder pressed firmly against the door, but you didn't reach for the handle, watching him closely.

"We didn't tell him because we didn't want to risk anyone else finding out. Sam called to tell him we were visiting, and that was enough to let him know something was going on without tipping off anyone who might have been listening."

You pursed your lips, turning your head slightly to scan the surrounding trees while keeping Bucky in your peripheral.

"I thought you said he was your best friend. Do best friends not visit each other?"

Bucky smiled a little.

"I visit. I just never ask."

Your eyes returned to his as you gave a speculative hum.

"And Sam Wilson?"

"Sets up visits at least a week in advance."

"He sounds like a better friend."

"He might be. But Steve's known me too long to give up on me now. He's always happy to see us anyway."

The small smile you'd been sporting slipped a little.

"Not this time."

"He's just worried. He'll get over it. I just want to make sure you're still okay with this plan before we go inside."

"Well, I don't have a better one, so..." You sighed. "Nothing can be worse than where I was before."

"Come on now. The couch wasn't that bad."

Bucky smiled when his comment shocked a laugh out of you. Fleeting and confused, but a laugh nonetheless.

"That's - That's not what I - "

"I know," Bucky said with a shrug. "But it made you smile for a second."

You stared at him, something strange passing through your eyes. He thought you may have been about to speak, but the chirping of his phone had you receding again behind a stoic mask. 

Sam, telling him they were ready. 

“You alright?”

You nodded.

“I trust Steve with my life,” he reminded you quietly. “He’ll always try to do the right thing. He won’t hurt you.”

“What if I hurt him?” 

“Do you want to?”

“No, of course not,” you said quietly, frowning down at your hands.

“Then you won’t,” Bucky said with a shrug. 

“That simple?” you scoffed, but Bucky stayed steady, nodding slowly. 

“This time? Yeah, I think it is.” 

You broke eye contact again to tug restlessly at the neckline of your borrowed sweatshirt. 

“Ready?”

“I guess.” 

Bucky slipped out of the backseat, holding the door open for you as you followed. Neither of you spoke as you approached the front door, the crunch of gravel beneath your boots softening to a nearly silent step on the porch. He couldn’t tell whether it was intentional or instinct.

Sam and Steve were sitting on the couch when the two of you walked in, but Steve stood slowly as you came into view. You held position one step behind Bucky and half a step to the right. 

“Hi,” Steve said with a gentle smile, keeping his hands shoved deep in his pockets to curb the habit of a polite handshake. “I’m Steve.” 

You gave an uneasy nod, face tense and blank like you were unsure how to act or what to say in this situation.

“I know we’ve just met, but I’m really glad you’re here.”

Your brows furrowed slightly, head tilting to the side in question as your eyes darted to Bucky and back to Steve again. Steve wasn’t smiling anymore, eyes solemn and projecting that 110% sincerity that only he could pull off. 

“Whatever happened before and whatever Hydra did to you, I hope you know that you didn’t deserve this.”

You blinked hard, faltering a shuffled step backwards. Bucky stepped in smoothly before the overwhelm could shift to panic.

“Does this mean she can stay here with you?” he asked. 

“Of course. As long as she needs.” 

Bucky glanced over to you, and though you still looked slightly dazed you nodded your acceptance. 

“Okay. Her stuff is in the car. Give me a hand with it.”

The sharp clap he landed to Steve’s shoulder left no room for argument, and you lingered uncomfortably in the hall as Steve followed Bucky outside. 

“You’re going to need to ease up a little, pal,” Bucky said softly as they trailed down the porch steps. 

The sun had already set, but full dark had not yet descended. Between the gaps in the trees, the clouds were clinging to the last of their fiery glow. 

“I just wanted her to know where I stand,” Steve said, holding out his hands obligingly as Bucky reached into the backseat for your borrowed duffle bag and the two heavy backpacks from the bunker. 

“I get that, but you can’t treat her the same way you treated me when you found me again. Even when I could barely remember you, I still loved you. Like muscle memory. It made things easier. But if you try to talk to her about her feelings, she might punch you.” 

“Give me a little credit,” Steve said, accepting the duffle and choosing not to comment when Bucky kept a tight hold on both backpacks. “I wasn’t going to start with that.”

“I mean it. Go easy.”

Something shifted in Steve’s eyes at the severe expression Bucky leveled him with. 

“Okay,” he said softly. “I’ll give her space. I’m not trying to scare her off, Buck.” 

“I know you wouldn’t mean to. But your heart's too big for your own good, and that can be… a lot. For people who aren’t used to it.” 

Steve nodded slowly, a smile starting to creep up the corner of his mouth. 

“What did Sam call it again?”

“Aggressive compassion.” 

“Yep that’s the one,” Steve said with a snort. “I’ll try to tone it down for now. No promises.” 

When they reentered the cabin, Sam had managed to convince you to sit on the couch with him. You still looked uncomfortable, but you seemed to be making a concentrated effort to push through it. 

Bucky surrendered custody of the backpacks to you immediately, and as you started to tuck them between your feet and the couch, Steve spoke up.

“Let me show you where you’ll be staying. So you have somewhere safe to keep those.”

You looked up at him, fingers tensing slightly around the straps before you nodded.

“Okay.”

The guest bedroom Steve led you too was the same room Bucky always stayed in when he visited. He’d probably spent more time here than he had in his own apartment bedroom. It was small but clean, the queen bed in the center was crisply made and covered with a plush green duvet. There was only room for one bedside table, equipped with a small lamp, a candle, and an unopened box of tissues. There were two extra phone chargers in the drawer. 

Steve set your duffle bag down on the foot of the bed.

“It’s not much, but I hope you’ll be comfortable. There’s a fan and an electric blanket in the closet if you get too warm or too cold…” he trailed off, looking around the room for inspiration before shrugging. “If there’s anything you need, just let me know. The bathroom is across the hall, and it’s just for you. I use a different one.” 

“Thank you,” you said quietly. 

“You’re welcome. We’ll give you some space to unpack. Look around.”

You nodded absently, already opening the closet and shoving the two backpacks into the back corner. Steve didn’t comment, leading Bucky back out to the living room in pensive silence.

“Everything good?” Sam asked. 

“Yeah, we’ll be fine,” Steve said. “How long does she need to stay for? What’s the plan?”

Sam looked pointedly at Bucky who rolled his eyes.

“We’re working on it.” 

“Working on it…” Steve repeated, his face carefully neutral.

“I’ve been focusing on getting her somewhere safe,” Bucky said, crossing his arms defensively. “I haven’t had time to think much farther than that.” 

“Okay…” Steve said quietly, but the slight strain lurking behind the calm facade made Sam snort. 

“I think you’re breaking his brain.”

“He’s done plenty without a plan before,” Bucky argued. 

Steve hummed noncommittally. 

“Having no plan is better than having a bad plan.”

Sam obligingly switched sides, hearing the frustration in Bucky’s voice. This was intensely personal for him. He was terrified of fucking it up.

“Give us a couple weeks. We’ll come by again and figure things out,” Sam said, standing from the couch.

“Okay,” Steve agreed, accepting the handshake-turned-hug Sam offered.

“We should probably go. Let you guys get settled,” Sam said, turning towards Bucky. “You ready?”

Bucky glanced back towards the door of the guest room. 

“I’ll meet you at the car. I wanna…” He gestured vaguely at the hallway, and Sam shot him a significant look.

“This was your idea, you know.”

“I know. I’m not - I just want to check on her before we leave.”

“You told me you’d be cool about this.”

“And I am. But I wanna see where her head’s at.”

Sam sighed. 

“Alright. Five minutes.”

“Or what? You’re gonna leave me here?” Bucky asked skeptically.

“No. But I am gonna talk to you about boundaries and countertransference all the way back home.” 

“Fine. Five minutes,” Bucky said with a grimace, waving Sam towards the front door. 

Steve shot Bucky a curious look that he pretended not to notice before following Sam.

You were sitting on the bed when Bucky entered the room, looking around the small space with the frown of a lost child. You glanced up at the sound of his boots on the old hardwood, but your expression did not change.

“Are you going to be okay here?” he asked, resisting the urge to close the door behind him. Sam and Steve would be outside by now. “You feel comfortable?”

You tilted your head curiously, gave a little shrug.

“I’m fine. Better than the alternatives.”

“So you’ll stay?” he asked carefully. “You’re not going to run?” 

“For now, I will stay,” you confirmed.

Bucky studied you for a moment, the way you always studied him. You sat still, patiently allowing his gaze to linger without comment. You looked sincere, as far as he could tell. Nervous but not quite restless. He had no way of knowing how long your resolve would last, but for the moment it seemed that you at least wanted to stay.

“Could you tell me if that changes? Please?”

Your eyes narrowed slightly. Not anger. Focus. 

“You’re worried,” you said softly, and Bucky took a deep breath.

“Yes.”

“Tell me why?”

He bit his lip absently. He didn’t want to lie to you, but he wasn’t sure how much of the truth to share. How much would make you feel safe. How much would make you run.

“I want to help you, but I’m not sure I’m doing it right,” he said finally.

You sat with that for a moment, never taking your eyes off him. 

“I’m not in chains,” you said. “I’m free to walk away when I want to. That’s what you told me.” 

“Yeah.”

“If you weren’t helping me the right way, I would leave.” 

“That’s… true.”

“It is,” you said insistently, standing to move a little closer to him.

“Okay,” he said quietly. “So… good, for now?”

“Good. For now.”

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

I've been missing this one - what about you? How are ya feeling? What are we thinking?

Tags: @shifutheshihtzu @internalbullshit @lilasiannerd-blog @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @iwillbeinmynest @scotlandasshole @netflixa @hardcorehippos @singingprincessstudent @sophiealiice @blue1928 @tinuviel015 @a-book-pressed-rose @bbparker @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun @feelmyroarrrr @orangespocks @multifandomgirl-us @creideamhgradochas @buckybarneshairpullingkink @rebekahdawkins @xxbuckysbxx

[fan-a-tink]

Young Royals S3 thoughts

EP5

Even just hearing this scene’s echo was horrific. It must have been so much worse to actually go through it. 

It must be so hard for Wille to reconcile how he knows Erik which what he now knows about him. And he is not here anymore to defend himself. Uuuurgghhhhh!

Please talk to Simon. Please talk to him. Shutting him out will not make anything better.

Sara and Felice doing desserts together, that’s the best idea anyone has ever had :) A chance for them to talk, yay!

This Micke is starting to be a dad too good to be true. This is sketchy behaviour. He is too happy, this is going to spiral out of his control. Oh Sara I am worried for you….

Ok, I am just going to say it (even 2021 me would judge me so hard for this) but August „redemption arc“ is working. Like I honestly believe that he is trying to be a little bit better as a person. I want him to be alright. And yes, I am shocked that I think this. 

Whose locker is number 60? Is that Sara’s? 

Wille once more calling his parents because he needs support. And his dad once more not stepping up. Nobody is perfect, not even Kronprins Erik….!

Edvin Ryding, the actor you are…

This episode it’s Wille’s turn to look as if his soul has left him. 

Oh shit this will be the music room fight. I am not ready. I am not ready. No no no no no noooooooo.

RIP Wille in the choir. Those scenes in episode two were worth it though :)) 

It is so typical for Simon to think that he has done something wrong. Simon, my love, you are not ‚difficult‘ for asking questions!! You are wonderful. 

Wille, those are your thoughts, not Simons. They are your fears, your doubts, your anxieties. And they are completely valid. But please don’t put words in Simon’s mouth and push him away like that. „Maybe he gave in to peer pressure. What do you know?“ Like, Simon is trying to help you here, he’s trying to talk it through with you and help you out. Nooo, don’t walk out on him?!!!

Simon being left behind in the music room is just as devastating as Wille being in there after their fight last season. I am done with this music room. 

The 36 on Simon’s locker is now always going to remind me of that fan exam :)) I was sooo unsure about that question haha

So she takes the letter, but is she reading it? Should we assume she read it? Or is she just not going to read it? I am confused…

Oh no. Micke has forgotten. The hope and desperation in her voice that she’s trying to conceal while leaving these voice messages for her dad is killing me. Also, ruuuuuun! You can still make it :) 

Why is Wille only ever with Felice when he’s had a fight or something with Simon? Like, when they’re good, he never hangs out with her. 

I also do believe he would have accepted and embraced Wille’s queerness. But I guess it’s the fact that we’ll never know that is so hard to deal with.

Purple nail polish ✨ slay :)

Sara made it :) But also, it’s stressing me out that she just puts her id back into her bag and doesn’t close it properly. It could fall out!

That is so heartbreaking seeing that Micke is falling back into the habit of drinking with his friends. And the worst possible moment for Sara to find out, mid-driving test, in the middle of the road. 

Linda giving Simon the long overdue hug and telling him he’s not doing anything wrong. YES!

„Love shouldn’t be this difficult“ - Linda, I trusted you!!! Don’t give Simon ideas.. 

Sara turning up at the house, breaking down. Simon hugging her. Forgiving her. I am in actual tears now. Can’t handle it. I’m sooo glad he is forgiving her. This was soooo necessary. Finally some healing…. 

That’s a decent apology text, Wille, I’m proud of you :)

The nail polish looks sooo good!!

And its off 😂 That was shorter than Wille’s career in the choir..

The Happy Birthday Song Scene will forever be my favourite Wilson scene. I am crying my eyes out because I know it’s all going to go wrong soon, and this might be one of the last moments of happiness. And it is SO BEAUTIFUL!!!!! 

Also I am sooo glad the ‚Is everything ok between us?‘ line happened here and now was immediately answered with a ‚yes‘ - that takes away one of my biggest fears from the trailer… 

Also, he made him a sandwich? Asjdnä oajbef lskdfb .sjdnfsldnf lsdn 💜

I like Farima. Also her green suit is gorgeous :) 

They are holding hands in the car !!!!

„Maybe it was stupid to tell you that thing about Erik. I get that it must’ve been tough to hear.“ Yeah, no shit, August.

Simon is just chilling, living his best life eating cake :) 

„Cause there’s a risk of poisoning.“ Oooff. Simon’s expression is golden :))

I think Simon will never get used to having staff to take care of everything. And to Wille being absolutely ok with that and not even noticing it. 

Spotted Lisa Ambjörn, hihiiiii :))

Please make Simon feel welcome. Please. 

Why are they all pretending like everyone’s happy and fine? 

August is just so happy to be near Sara, it is actually adorable. 

Felice and Sara working side by side. I have so much hope that they can find their friendship again. Like, they are both loving being in each other’s company..! And Felice wanting to be a chef? I am here for it!!!! That whole little scene was beautiful :))

That is the most awkward dinner conversation ever. Poor Simon. Poor Wille. And they really don’t make it easy for anyone just bringing everything back to Erik. Like, that just adds so much pressure on Wille, and also this is such a vulnerable topic for him right now… 

Class Bad Boy. Lol

I love that he hates the title. Like, season 1 August would have loved it! That is GROWTH, ladies and gentlemen!

„It’s not very long. I’ll read it to you“ - dude, she can read, she just didn’t want to! 

His voice breaking up a little while he reads the letter. Malte is really on the next level this season…

The way he leans his head into that hug…! I have so much hope for them…. Please, please, please!

Yes, I can see that from Frederike’s point of view this looks bad. But you don’t know anything about the situation. And you’re just going to cause problems. But of corse she runs straight to Felice. Uuughhh, and things were just starting to look like they could be friends again someday. 

Wille playing a bit of the school song. Is that the only thing he remembers how to play, because he taught it to Simon? 

Wille, you’re being unfair. Yes, it’s hard for you. But Simon is also allowed to find it hard. And he is only trying to support you.

I’m sorry, but Wille’s parents could not be more useless right now. I am so glad Wille is finally speaking his mind. Maybe the delivery is not the most productive, constructive, diplomatic, but a child should not have to beg for his parents to be there for him. And they should not just leave the room when he does. Like, I understand that you are ill and struggling and that it must be absolutely terrible to deal with your eldest son dying tragically in a car crash, but Wille is right, you still have a son, and he needs you!!! 

The way Simon looks horrified and genuinely scared when Wille smashes the gifts. Like, he looks kind of scared of Wille. I bet he witnessed these kind of violent outbursts from his dad when he was younger. Oh Simon….

There it is: „Love shouldn’t be this hard.“ And it hurts just as much as I thought it would. 

Wille’s cheek is so wet, he must have been crying a lot already. 

Simon’s voice cracking when he says „Maybe it just can’t work.“ - he is breaking his own heart admitting this. 

The lyrics just before the cut „I got addicted to a losing game“ - KILL ME NOW!

I am in tears. Like, I knew they were going to come to a point like this, but that doesn’t mean it’s ok!!!

[unimatrix-581]

We can draw parallels to the dynamic between House and Wilson versus House and Cameron. Wilson and Cameron are both massive people-pleasers, and self-sacrificial, as demonstrated by Wilson very early on, where he defies Vogler by voting no on firing House. Vogler gives him the option to resign, and Wilson takes it, even though 3-4 other members on the board have backed him up. Wilson is visibly upset as House waltzes in to ask for a file (about an experimental drug). Their friendship is being tested for the second time (first one being House in withdrawal), but Wilson reserves judgment, knowing what he has signed himself up to from the day they became friends, just that, ‘my marriage sucks, but hey, at least I have you by my side… it’s pathetic… is it?’ and House responds by saying (looking exactly like a kicked puppy), ‘no, you matter, always have, end of story… even though I’ll do it all over again…’ Those aren’t the exact quotes btw, but, that’s the basic gist of the unspoken love they have demonstrated for one another, time and time again. Very affectionate.

Cameron, on the other hand, resigns from her post to save everyone else on the team (from getting fired), but the motive revolves around House’s wellbeing, his feeling of the matter. He doesn’t show it, but he adores the ducklings. Sticking it to the man backfires on him, spectacularly, and now he has to face the consequences of his action. It’s his pathology, he can’t help it. He’s torn over who he has to let go, even though he does toy around with the idea (coping mechanism perhaps?) to weed out the whistleblower, to try to deal with the situation by being rational about it. As expected, the decision on the ‘who’ drags on. We know Cameron crushes on House, hard, signalling a potential love match between the two but the idea is never fully realised. She goes, and we spend two episodes max without her.

At this point, Vogler is no longer in the picture, or in House’s words, ‘Vogler (the concept) is dead.’, but Cameron is reluctant to return to her post, rather, she has one condition… for House to take her out on a date (reverse power harassment?? hello???)

Okay, so, the parallels aren’t really, paralleling, because Wilson’s motive for protecting House is ambiguous. It could be his pathological need to seek out House’s approval by standing up to Vogler, but his reasoning has never been set in stone. Just, ‘people-pleaser, i.e. protect friend.’ I know that Wilson and Cameron are often compared with one another due to their shared traits, that being: 1. Kind. In epic proportions. To a worrying amount.

2. “They have so much love to give.” but they end up hurting them (or themselves) in return.

They treat House as a ‘charity case’, with varying degrees of dignity to the recipient. As an unwavering aroace heterosexual, I can’t help but think that House/Cameron is inevitable, or organic, because my assumption is grounded in the sociological expectation of ‘boy meets girl…’, and the fact that House is somewhat reciprocating. However, we see a similar progression with House and Wilson, except, the furthest they’ve gone to admitting their feelings for one another is either:

Wilson’s ‘why not DATE you?’ moment in S4.

The S8 car scene. (Ow, my heart.)

Wilson: I need you to tell me… that you love me. (uhhh)

They don’t fit into the mould of the stereotypical dudebros of the time, allowing for implicit affection to seep into the dialogue. It gives us room to assume that, hey, maybe what they have is not exactly platonic… because, as stated earlier, Wilson goes far and beyond to prevent House from getting fired. Wilson’s unrelenting pursuit to play protectorate for his goofy boy best friend over the years is always a topic of discussion.

IN CONCLUSION!!... House/Wilson? Keep it coming.

[zenaidamacrouras1]

Also, that being said, if you ever feel the urge to add snippets to the Backhoe universe please do 🫡🫡🫡🫡💖

I do have the urge to write some Backhoe snippets but I also need to manifest free time when I am not so deeply brain dead tired I fall asleep immediately which has been difficult as of late.

But I was just thinking today that I kinda want to write them on 4th July a year later after the first community fireworks show they attended together?

They're officially engaged now and last year everyone had kinda thought Steve was Becca's boyfriend but he's actually Bucky's fiance so how do they navigate that when half the town comes up to them and is like, "oh it's the guy from Brooklyn!" And then tell Bucky wedding bells are going to be in the air soon, is he ready for that?

And they look significantly at Becca and it's supposed to be a sorta low key sexist joke about how Becca is getting married to some guy from Brooklyn and Bucky's expected to be protective of his sister's virtue. And honestly it makes sense on paper that they'd assume that.

Becca is the one who lives in Boston for college and is more likely to have met some kind of skinny artist city boy to bring home, but anyone with eyes willing to really look could tell from a mile away while riding a bucking bronco that Bucky is the one who is running headlong and desperate to marry the guy from Brooklyn.

So Becca says, "he's ready, but I ain't so sure" and they laugh real hard because they think she's just made a joke like Bucky wants to marry her off to the first guy whose come calling so he has one less sister to take care of and the sassy way she rolls her eyes at Bucky makes everyone say something like, "you got your work cut out for you with all these sisters, Barnes!"

And Bucky says, "Lawwww don't I know it, cain't imagine it otherwise. Busy hands, full heart, as mom always said," which is what his mother always used to say when someone said something like that to her. And the random person walks off.

This interaction repeats itself in various iterations a dozen or more times over the evening. But every now and then someone wanders over to say hi to the Barnes conglomeration picnic blanket and immediately clocks Steve and Bucky for a young couple that's so in love they're about to burst.

Like Mrs. Wilson's pastor, who pulls Bucky up out of his chair and into a bear hug, whispering something into Bucky's ear that no one else can hear.

He let's Bucky go with a broad grin and a hearty slap on the back and a wink for Steve. "You got your work cut out for you with this one, Steven," Mrs. Wilson's pastor booms in his low voice with a wink. Bucky's eyes are glossy with a few tears from whatever the pastor whispered to him and Steve is overwhelmed with how beautiful his fiance (FIANCE!!) looks.

"Busy hands, full heart," Steve says, and Bucky's eyes get even shinier, and Steve really wants to kiss Bucky, but they are surrounded by Bucky's entire county so he doesn't.

It's the first year Poppy doesn't fall asleep at the fireworks show. Bucky almost cries realizing she's growing up, and he doesn't have to carry her to the van. But on the other hand she's 4 inches taller and a fair bit more than 4 pounds heavier than last year so he's kind of relieved he's not lugging her the half a mile back to the van. So it's complicated.

After they get home and get all the girls upstairs for bed, Bucky asks Steve if he wants to go on a walk.

They don't make it too far before Steve grabs Bucky and presses him hard against a tree, all strong hands and desperate lips. It's all a dream until they try and get too creative and fall in the creek.

Some time later they stumble back to the house laughing and giddy and exchanging lazy debauched kisses with wet hair and their shirts off and pants barely done back up (because the creek caused a pause but was not sufficient to cool them off).

Bucky stops up short and freezes because Hannah and Becca are sitting on the front porch, drinking ice tea and chatting in the dark out on the porch swing.

"It's after midnight, y'all should be in bed," Bucky says automatically.

Becca let's out a peal of laughter. "You are not in a position to lecture others about who should be in a bed for their evening's planned activities."

[my-head-is-an-animal]

Problems With The Heart

Greg House x Dr Anna Harding (OFC)

Story Masterlist

Chapter 3 - Clinic Hours

I had a pounding headache, I knew I shouldn’t have drunk so much after House left, I should’ve stopped after the second glass, but I didn’t and now I was living with the consequence. The previous day was behind me and it was time to move on to the current days problems.

I tried to think about my patients, about their worries, it was distracting for a while, that was until Wilson showed up in my office. It was a lot like his own, cosy but more room, enough for a sofa and a couple of chairs to sit opposite my desk. I liked it, I liked the privacy I had to think alone.

‘What happened last night?’ Wilson asked as he entered, sitting opposite me.

‘I assume you’re talking about House.’ I said, scribbling some notes in a case file, shoving the pen behind my ear as was habit.

‘He said he went over to tell you something, he turned up early for work this morning and isn’t giving Cameron a hard time. What did he say to you?’

I took a breath and turned to my computer to look up a few things.

‘Look, Anna, I know we don’t talk that much, but I do consider you a friend.’ Wilson said, firmly. ‘I hope you can consider me the same.’

The truth was, I did consider him a friend, I just wasn’t good at showing it.

‘He came over to tell me…’ I took a breath and leaned back in my chair, submitting to the fact that I was having this conversation. ‘He says he wants more.’

‘More?’ Wilson’s eyebrows raised. ‘As in more from your relationship?’

‘Yeah.’

‘What did you say?’

‘I said I’m not an easy person to have a real relationship with,’ I shrugged. ‘I told him the truth, the same as I always do. I told him there’s a lot of stuff wrong with me and he’s not exactly the most perfect human being in the world and maybe, while all of this has been fun and exactly the right distraction from everything else, it might not be healthy.’

‘Right…’

‘I told him I fell for him.’ I finally admitted, feeling a small weight lift. ‘I was going to put an end to our relationship, whatever it is, and try to move on. He said whatever I decided was fine and he’d be around if I changed my mind.’

Wilson sat quietly for a moment, almost like he couldn’t believe what was happening. ‘Anna, you are the first person in a long time that he has managed to have a functioning relationship with, he is happy when he’s around you, he doesn’t feel pressured to be anything more than what he is with you and now he tells you he wants more, you reject him.’

‘I didn’t reject him, I just told him that I wasn’t easy to be with.’

‘Neither is he!’ Wilson snapped. ‘Anna, you’ve revitalised this department and in the last six months more patients have walked out of here alive, healthy and according to Cuddy they’ve had nothing but positive experiences whilst under your care. You are a great doctor, you’ve had some crappy things happen to you, half of which I’m sure I’ll never know, but you deserve to be happy and if he makes you happy, why throw that away?’

I didn’t say anything. Wilson eventually left and I knew he was right, the only reason I was pushing House away was because I was scared it might not work out. I spent most of the week in my office, there wasn’t much cause to leave, save for the odd patient who needed a visit. Unlike House I didn’t avoid talking to patients.

Some of the nurses had to remind me to head down to the clinic, one of the favours I’d called in meant I needed to do four extra hours this week. House was in the exam room opposite and a part of me felt guilty, I wasn’t sure why, nothing had really changed, but every time I saw his clear blue eyes staring at me, I felt a desire to say something. He would pause, wait for a moment and I would chicken out, pretending to be more interested in the patient.

I sent the last kid with a runny nose away and remained inside the exam room to finish up my notes.

‘You want to say something.’ House said, standing in the doorway behind me. ‘If you’re going to break up with me, I’d rather you did it sooner rather than later, otherwise, we might need to talk.’

I sucked in a deep breath, tucking my pen behind my ear and folding my arms, facing him.

‘I already told you, I’m not an easy person to be with.’ I said, not quite knowing what I was supposed to say.

‘And I told you I wanted more.’ He repeated.

‘Define more.’ I snapped. I hadn’t meant to and took a moment to recompose myself. House never took offence when I snapped, it didn’t happen that often.

‘You haven’t had a stressful week.’

‘No, what’s this got to do with anything we’re talking about?’

‘You only snap when something has stressed you for at least a week, you’re not still upset about the six patients you lost last week because you don’t hold onto people you lose, you prefer to do more about the living, that’s your style. So, I can only imagine your snappy attitude is something to do with me.’ House watched me a little bashfully and somehow the eye contact always settled me the way I needed it to.

‘I fell for you, Greg.’ I told him, watching his expression change to something softer. ‘But I didn’t want to. That had nothing to do with you, I just didn’t want to feel anything.’

House thought for a moment before nodding. ‘You don’t want to end up heartbroken.’

‘I can’t afford to be wrong about this.’ I nodded.

‘What if you’re not wrong?’ He asked, not wanting to admit defeat. ‘What if this is supposed to work? What if it’s supposed to be fun?’

‘Then everything will be fine and all that time I spent getting shot will have been worth it, but what if you’re wrong? What if we want this to be more and we want a happy fun life, but all we’re heading for is more pain and more disappointment?’

House watched me for a moment, I could see his eyes flickering towards my mouth and I looked away, not quite being able to go through with any kind of physical contact. I collected up the file from the last patient and went to leave, House didn’t move away from the door.

I looked up at him and sighed. He wasn’t going to make this easy. ‘House move out of the way.’

‘You never call me Greg unless we’re having sex.’ He half smiled. ‘You also said “we”. I don’t think you’re telling me the whole truth.’

I rolled my eyes and looked down. I knew he was right, but I didn’t want to talk about it.

‘Anna you love me, we have fun, we do things, why can’t you go a step further and let me be more than a fun night?’ House smiled, his eyes flickered over my face. ‘What about a weekend?’

‘What? House-‘

‘One weekend, Friday night to Monday morning. We could have more fun and… talk?’

‘We do talk.’ I sighed. ‘We have talked, I’ve told you things, you’ve told me things, that’s how this works, we don’t lie because we don’t need to.’

‘I don’t lie to you because I wouldn’t gain anything.’ House said, exasperated. ‘It also wouldn’t help your recovery, I imagine trust is a hard thing for you, you’ve never said it, but it’s a common problem in people with PTSD…’

I felt a flash of anger that he would just assume I had trust issues, but got over it quickly enough when I realised he was right.

‘You want to spend a weekend with me? Doing what?’ I folded my arms.

‘Whatever you want.’ He shrugged. ‘Look, if you really don’t want to, I won’t force you to do anything. I just…’

He stopped before he said the words I knew he’d been wanting to say. I’d said it, now it was his turn.

‘If you say it,’ I whispered. ‘I’ll think about saying yes, if you don’t, I won’t feel any worse about saying no.’

His expression pierced mine, he was thinking about it, taking longer than I would have liked. I went let my breath go and went for the door handle. I didn’t see House for a whole week after that.

If you liked this, please consider supporting me ☕ thanks for reading!

[homo-house]

Hi I'm Marcos, 20, Brazilian, he/him

This is my personal blog, there's a lot of nonsense and unfiltered rambling here. Also some (usually) still life pictures that I take sometimes. I follow/block/unfollow at will

I have an art blog: @mister-sol. I would be happy if you checked it out!

More info below.

BTW I have really bad anxiety so I take my time with replying to asks/DMs, if I'm reblogging/posting while you're waiting on a reply please don't assume anything, 90% of the time I'm working up the courage to reply and the other 10% I just forgot !

I have a lot of interests, but I try to always tag them accordingly. If you want me to tag anything at all please let me know. Some stuff I often post about:

Art

Fandom stuff for a lack of better word. Unless I actively get involved in fan projects and constantly make fanwork of something, I don't consider myself a part of a fandom so much as an 'enjoyer'. I do a lot of shipping tho. For a list of modern media I post about/reblog, scroll to the bottom of the post.

Franz Kafka

A Little Life. 🤷‍♂️

Insects. Usually just centipedes and cockroaches

Other animals: bats; rats and mice; frogs.

If I follow u and you somehow saw this, would u be so kind as to tag:

- "animal abuse", "animal abuse ment" for mentions - "syringe", "needle" and/or plural variations

I don't really believe in DNIs but TERFs do yourself a favor and either don't follow me or stay in your lane! It helps keep the place nice for all of us.

It's hard to get on my bad side, be nice to me and I'll be nice to u.

Modern media I post about: Name. Ship(s)

Good Omens (both TV and Book. I always differentiate them in tags). Obviously I ship Aziraphale/Crowley, very enthusiastically so.

House MD. House/Wilson

Hannibal. Hannigram

The Mentalist. Jane/Lisbon

Cobra Kai/Karate Kid. Lawrusso

Dead Poets Society and both Robert Sean Leonard's and Robin William's works in general lol

South Park, sometimes

The Owl House

Mob Psycho 100

Blue Lock Bachira/Isagi

I also really love Tangled!!!<3

[moonbythecabstan]

House: *gets expensive VIP Monster Truck tickets for him and Wilson*

Wilson: *lies and says he can't go*

House, feeling betrayed: *asks Cameron to go instead*

House: *has tickets to a play*

Wilson: *surprised but excited to go*

House, not about to get his hopes up again: Psh, I'm not going! What, you really thought this was a date??? L.O.L Naaaahh

Wilson, confused and disappointed: *takes Cuddy*

House: *sends flowers to Wilson in a jealous bid to find out what's going on to find out if Wilson wanted to sleep with Cuddy*

And my favorite:

House, trying to get Wilson to admit he's dating/trying to date Wendy: *mentions how taking a romantic trip could change things*

Wilson (albeit somewhat confused): *thinks House is saying things could change for them on a romantic trip*

I love these idiots omg.

[house-md-obsession]

Shake [James Wilson x Reader] Part Four

Her eyes shifted from the brunette with an amber tint in her hair as she glanced back down to her hot cup of coffee in hand. Despite having slept a lifetime for many people, she still felt the pangs of exhaustion on her overworked body tugging at her joints as well as her lack of ability to focus on one thing at a time as she gradually recovered. She found herself longing for the comfort of James' bed, as odd as it was. Not him, but the wonderfully luxurious bed in which she now sees a necessity.

'Who knows if I'll sleep that well again without that damn bed.'

"_____?"

Her eyes flit up to the previously mentioned Thirteen. She flashed her the familiar lost-in-thought smile in which her face is normally decorated.

"I'm exhausted, I am so fucking sorry." She stated, a soft laugh elicited from the two. Despite having slept as much as she has, she still felt tiredness tug at her eyes.

"I can tell. Wilson said you were wiped but I didn't expect you to still be a walking corpse." She said, and ___ sighed, tightening her messy bun that lay upon her head. Her soft baby hairs sat wildly as they wanted, too short to go up with the rest of her hair.

"Yeah, I'm honestly not doing the best. I think House was actually right in forcing me to take the week off. I can hardly focus on anything."

"There's this really weird thing that happens, when you don't sleep like you're supposed to—"

"Shhh... I'm feeling the consequences of my actions. Trust me. I'm a million times more miserable than I look, and I know I'm roughing it right now." She stated, feeling her joints ache as she reached for her cup of coffee. Every movement felt as though there was sand in between her joints. “I’ve also got a lot on my mind that I am trying to navigate. I just haven’t had an opportunity between such big cases. I know it is literally our job, but we haven’t had an easy case in months. I miss the times I was able to just go screw with Wilson while he wrote up emails.”

"So... how do things seem?" Remy asks, seemingly pushing for a conversation she didn't quite want to bring up. Not directly, at least. ____ cocked her head, setting her cup down once again.

"How does what seem?" ____ asked.

"Things." Remy said, again, indirectly pressing. Still confused, ____ was about to ask for clarification, before her eyes caught those of the softly parted brunette male, making his way towards the two from the coffee counter, two cups in hand.

____ smiled, and moved over in her booth to make room for her friend as his eyes met hers with a warm, shy smile making its way upon the flirts' face.

"You look much better than last night." He commented, setting the cups down in front of them. Remy gave him a quiet 'hey' as he got situated.

"Hey, James. You meeting someone?" ____ asked, moving over a little more so he could get comfortable. He moved over a little more, mere inches between the two.

"Thirteen let me know where you guys were going so I swung by and gave you a house key." He said, and dug into his pocket for a minute, before dishing out his keys. He plucked a freshly made, bright silver one from his key ring, and handed it to you.

Thirteen's eyes widened, and to seemingly keep her mouth shut, she took a sip of her coffee.

"Thank you..? I don't...?" ____ stammered, wondering why this was necessary besides so she can grab her stuff later, but she assumed she'd just go back to her place until later.

"I know your apartment is on the rough side of town, and I have a conference I leave for at the end of the month for a week, and I just wanted to extend... the offer of somewhere... safer to you. Plus I'll probably be working late, so you can grab your stuff at least." He said, 'cooly' as he could. Thirteen shot James a confused look. She arched an eyebrow and leaned forward a little.

"Are you asking her to house-sit or are you inviting her to move in?" James' face went red and he let out a nervous laugh.

"I'm just letting her know she is always welcome over if she needs to! When House and I went by her apartment to grab some stuff the other night it was... shady." He said, trying his hardest not to offend the girl next to him, avoiding eye contact.

“I am happy to house-sit. We can talk about that later, I’m sure I’ll see you tomorrow at the latest.” ___ said, and James was happy to take any out of this conversation, even if his out is ‘house sitting’.

"Who is the other coffee for? House?" Thirteen asked.

"No, no. That ass can buy his own coffee after the emotional torment I was subject to last night." He said, a sigh leaving his face as he paranoidly glanced around the room, as if to judge whether or not it was clear to say what was on his mind in the moment. Remy cocked an eyebrow, obviously intrigued by the vague statement.

"What 'torment' did you have to endure?” She said, gently tossing her long, chestnut hair behind her shoulders.

“It is a crime and extremely offensive for me to be friends with a female that is not the exact same age as me.” He said, feeling a heat make its way to his face with the mere mention of the conversation. He almost felt like he was ripping the innocence from his mature, younger friend by even thinking about her following the visuals House had nearly injected into his head.

Several hours were spent on and off “teasing” Wilson for his intentions with the young colleague the two shared. House consistently swore she was only around for being an excellent doctor and a total idiot with the passion for her job to leave her relentlessly exhausted at all times, seeing as she needs to be virtually held at gunpoint to sleep.

“You’re keeping her around and only doing this as a fastpass into her panties. I’ve seen her ass, I don’t blame you, but at least be honest and stop making yourself look like you’re sacrificing things so she feels more compelled to lie with you.” He remembers House uttering. Wilson just threw him another hateful glance, and resumed his attention back to his phone.

‘Maybe I seriously like her around. Is that such a forgein concept to you? I have a plethora of female friends that I have never tried sleeping with. You can’t seem to make friends with any woman without making it clear the relationship is one-way.’ Wilson thought to himself, just before standing up to check on you. That was the last comment House got in last night before finally dropping the topic.

At least, until midnight struck another day.

“Says House?” ____ asked, cocking her head.

“Implied House. He also implied a lot of other things that have me ignoring his existence today.” He said, taking another heavy sigh as he took a sip of the warm coffee in hand. He felt the urge to glance at ____ as she was part of the discussion, but ignored it.

‘I don’t want her knowing House thinks of her that way. Besides, I have more than one very close female friend, so it's not like she would gather that from this conversation. Right?’ He thought to himself, before finding his inner monolog more confusing than beneficial.

He would, in moments following, find that this did not work as planned.

He sat up readjusting his position next to the tired woman next to him. She slowly nodded, finally understanding what the conversation likely included. She fought off a soft giggle, watching her brunette friend fight a soft blush that was finding its way up on the flirts’ cheek.

“Why are you so pressed? Sounds like textbook House to me. Angry and horny.” Remy muttered, once more taking a sip of her coffee. James stuttered over himself.

James, in fact, was not entirely upset because of the misogyny that he had to endure by sitting idly by his now hammered best friend. He, too, was drunk, while you slept heavily in the other room. Occasional, soft snores could be heard in the living room.

“So, you’re not gonna even try?” The diagnostician said, setting his now-empty scotch glass back onto the coffee table.

“House. She is not interested, and young.” James muttered for what felt like the millionth time.

“‘Young’ is an awful excuse to not pursue the babe in your bed. You really can tell me more about her than any of your ex-wives but you refuse to even try going on a date with her.” The drunk spat out, some truth to his searing words that James refused to accept.

“Maybe I want a serious, platonic relationship like this with someone other than you, House. Whether or not I like her doesn’t matter, I’m not pursuing anything.”

“Now that you’ve made it very clear you’re not going to sleep with her, when I do, I’ll be sure to take pictures.”

“Yes, that is textbook House. Doesn’t mean I should have to deal with him reducing my friends to nice bodies.” He said, glancing to his left and unintentionally making eye-contact with the hopefully-unaware person that brought upon the subject matter.

Both Remy and ____’s eyebrows arched, shooting the oncologist a curious glance as he continued to clam up.

“Who is House jealous that you have around?!” The pair spat out at once, almost as if they had rehearsed the moment a million times. He was mildly taken aback, wondering why this conversation didn’t run through his head as a potential outcome to the topic posed.

For obvious reasons, he was not sure he was ready to sell out his best friend to the innocent, or so he assumed, younger woman next to him that he was not sure would like to hear of the ways her boss objectified her while she was unconscious in the other room.

James felt the familiar heat he tried to overcome over the last few minutes on several occasions burn as it finally won– the tall, flushed brunette finding himself stumbling over words in his head, unknowingly stuttering a response out to the two.

“Cameron.” He spat, little thought following the exclamation. She was the first, non-___ girl that he has even remotely considered a ‘close’ friend over the two facing him.

He locked eyes with ____, and she looked puzzled. He knows, even while absolutely exhausted, she was not buying the lie the man spoke. He knew she was calculated, and knew this was not something she would drop until she knew who he was really referring to. He could feel the urge to call him out to his face– a characteristic he both loved and hated about her– but watched as she readjusted in her seat.

Strangely enough, she nodded, flashed him a smug grin, and shrugged.

“Sounds about right. He always did want to sleep with her.” ___ said softly, taking another sip of the now less-scalding, bitter coffee. James watched in shock as she seemingly continued about listening, not a word leaving her lips. Her baggy eyes now trained on the opening and closing of the slightly busy coffee shop.

“Cameron? You still keep in touch with her?” Remy asked, setting her now almost empty cup to the table. James pulled his confused face from the apparently disinterested girl next to him.

“Well, yes, but very sparingly.” He said, shifting as he felt Remy nearly see right through him. Her face quickly became that of disbelief, but she knew better than to press the man for more answers than he was ready to give. She cleared her throat, it becoming increasingly obvious that she did not believe a word he was saying.

“Okay. Okay. Not Cameron. But who it is doesn’t really matter. They’re a close friend and that is that, I don’t know why House seems to think I only ever want to sleep with the people I have around me. Maybe they’re just good company.” He explained, and relaxed, not realizing the short lived lie had already begun to take a toll on his physicality. The bigger lie he didn’t need to address was that he’d almost definitely, on more than one occasion, found himself wondering what this ‘unspoken’ person would be like as a romantic partner, but that’s just curiosity, right? Is it a crime to imagine what a friend would be like as a partner?

He glanced back at ____, who was still seemingly anywhere emotionally than the coffee shop.

“It’s House, Wilson. You know better than anyone else his cynical ass only brings young women around for one reason.” She said, letting a sigh leave her lips, as she sat back against the rest of her chair. “You’re telling me he’s never harassed you for anyone else?” She pushed.

“Yes, of course he has, but he is particularly insistent with this person in specific.”

“Maybe it is his weird ‘House’ way of getting you two together. He is very good at reading people.” Remy said. She took the final sip of her coffee, gently setting the empty cup down onto the table. She glanced over at her friend, noticing her blank stare towards the floor. ‘Maybe she should get going.’

‘“I-I mean, maybe. But regardless it isn’t any of his business. And I don’t even know if I could be in a romantic relationship with this person. I’m not sure it has even crossed my mind prior to this conversation.” He said, rubbing his thumb against one another underneath the table. He felt unusually nervous speaking those words right next to the unspoken woman in question. He caught another glimpse of the unusually quiet ____ next to him. She had her eyes trained on the door again. He gently tapped her thigh under the table, and she whipped her head around to look at him. She came to, seemingly previously stuck in another universe before flashing him a soft smile.

“‘M sorry. I didn’t sleep well last night. Sorry, I am listening!” She muttered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, flashing a sleepy, almost distracted smile to the oncologist. He felt his anxiety manifest as butterflies in his stomach. He was unsure if it was because of the smile or the subject matter.

He flashed a warm smile in response, feeling his anxiety climb higher with the innocent action.

“Hey, ____, I’m sorry to drag you out. You don’t look well. Let me take you home.” Remy interrupted, and ____ shook her head.

“No, no, it’s okay! I’ve missed you guys. We haven’t hung out like this in months. I’ll go home and go to bed later. Do either of you have somewhere to be?”

“I’ve got work in about an hour. But, Remy is right. You should go rest.” James said, finding his hand rubbing her shoulder. She flashed him a warm smile, and shook her head. “I can take you home if you need, too, or you can grab your house key from my car.” He said, glancing at Remy to watch as she nodded her head in response.

“I have a lot on my mind right now. This is more helpful than you know.” She said.

“So… Who is the extra coffee for?” Remy asked, and James, without a word, hands it to Remy seeing as ____ has not even nearly finished hers.

[randomshyperson]

Hi!! Hope you're doing good and drinking water :) May i request something? 😁 I was listening to "the 1" by Taylor Swift (queen) and got me thinking about a Wanda X Reader story where maybe idk they dated in high school/college but ended cause whatever reason but they never actually stopped liking eachother (yknow, like the song) and then they just meet somewhere and get to talk and you know... happy ending lol But only if you like the idea really. Have a good one!

Hello anon! Here it is, hope you like it. It’s short but is sweet, i hope you like it.

Wanda Maximoff x Reader - The One

Summary: Prompt based “A story where Reader and Wanda broke up and never stopped loving each other. Inspired by the song “The 1″ from Taylor Swift.

Words:  2.531k    ///// Read on AO3

Warnings: None.

Marks: @mionemymind @wandamaximoffpuppy

Wanda Maximoff came into your life during autumn.

You were both in the same art history class, and she lent you a pen.

All it took was two dates, and you were completely in love. Unfortunately, as quickly as it started, your relationship burned out.

You wish you had a big plot justification, with betrayals and twists and turns to justify to your friends your emotional misery when it ended, but the only reason was the complete emotional immaturity you had.

There were fights, and accusations, and so much jealousy. And you wish so much that you had gotten over it, but you couldn't. And then Wanda was gathering the clothes that she had in your dormitory, and throwing the key at you.

You swore you wouldn't cry anymore, because there were no more tears after so many weeks, but you kept going. Until all that was left was the bitter feeling that you had ruined everything and lost the most important person in your life.

It had been more than two years since you two had broken up, and you still had the number saved on your cell phone with a heart emoji, even though the conversation had been archived a long time ago. And then you were walking out of the main building at NYU, and your friend Natasha Romanoff called out to you as she walked quickly toward you.

- Hey, girl! - she said with a smile. - How are you?

You shrugged as you walked with her around the campus toward the secondary building, where the Philosophy classrooms were.

- I’m surviving. - You joke with a weak smile, Nat looked at you worriedly, but you shook your head, trying to reassure her. - And how are you doing? 

- Fine, I think. - She says, entwining your arms. - I miss you, but things are fine.

You nod, looking forward. You knew that you had been absent in your friends' lives, simply because it seemed that things no longer made much sense since you were no longer with Wanda.

- Did you hear about Bucky and Sam? - she asked, and you let out a sigh.

- Yes, I... I don't know if I'm going to make it.

- Ah, Y/N, please. - She says. - It won't be the same if you are not there.

Natasha was talking about your friends' engagement party, which you were invited to a week ago. You hesitated, because all of Bucky and Sam's friends were invited. And that included Wanda.

You let out a sigh.

- I will make an effort to be there, I promise. - You assure her with a smile. 

- You don't want to see Wanda, do you? - Nat asks. And you look at the ground. - Look, I just... I never really understood why you two broke up. But maybe it will be good to see her, you know. Maybe you two need to talk after all.

You shrug, feeling the familiar sadness take over your chest every time you think of Wanda. 

- Let's talk about something else okay? - You ask her with a weak smile and Natasha nods, changing the subject as you two walk along the campus.

//-//

You straightened your clothes before knocking on the door. It had been almost two weeks since you had spoken to Natasha, and the day of the party had finally arrived. You saw many cars parked outside the Barnes residence, and were not surprised when one of the family friends answered the door instead of the owners.

You smiled and greeted the gentleman, saying that you were a friend of the grooms, and he smiled back when he let you in. You overheard someone say that it was better to leave the door open because of the number of guests, and you let out a small laugh. 

The house was full, and it took a few minutes for you to find Bucky, who looked extremely happy. He smiled slightly surprised when he saw you.

- Hey, you're here! - he said, walking over to you. - It's so good to see you!

Bucky hugged you tight and you laughed lightly, saying that it was very good to see him too.

- How are things going? - you asked as you broke the embrace. - Are you feeling anxious?

Bucky laughed, putting his hands in his pockets.

- Everything is working well. My parents are helping me and Sammy to organize everything. - he says, smiling. - And damn, yes. I can't wait for the ceremony.

You laugh, nodding in understanding. You talk for a few more minutes until Sam comes to check on the groom.

- Wow, look at you Wilson! - You exclaim when you see him, and he opens his arms toward you, grinning contently. You hug each other tightly. - It's good to see you, my friend.

- Yeah, it's great to see you too, stranger. - He smiles back, and then you part. - Glad you could make it.

- I couldn't miss the first wedding of the group. - You joked and made them laugh. 

And then they were talking about the preparations for the wedding, and the family members who had come from far away, and you were smiling and laughing at the stories. But everything seemed to slow down when your gaze focused on someone behind Bucky, the only person who always had the ability to capture your full attention.

Wanda had just walked through the front door, and was taking off her coat. You barely noticed Pietro standing beside her, as your heart started racing at seeing her again. Sam called out to you a few times, until you blinked and looked at him.

- Wow, you really haven't changed at all. - he teased. - Three years and you are still completely out of breath when you see her.

You blushed, telling him to shut up, but Bucky and Sam just giggled. And then you swallowed hard, because Wanda was looking around and her gaze met yours.

Your gas in surprise, and you told the couple in front of you that you needed a drink, then you rushed to escape the room.

You ended up on the balcony, trying to recover from the intensity of the previous moment, completely affected by seeing Wanda again. 

You thought it was the best to greet the people you knew at the party, and after talking to Clint and his girlfriend Laura, and also to Steve, Tony and Bruce, you made your way to the family circles. Bucky's parents and siblings were very friendly, and Sam's family was very warm, and they all hugged you and smiled. And then you were walking around the house again, and Nat approached you, two drinks in her hands, and one of them she handed to you.

- You really came. - She said with a smile. - Bucky just told me and I didn't believe it.

- The faith you have in me is touching. - You sneered with irony and she laughed before taking a sip of her drink. You looked at your own glass suspiciously.

- Is this champagne? - you asked, and she nodded, making you sigh. You put the glass on the balcony table near you. - Thanks but I'm driving.

Nat grumbled in understanding.

- You're running away from her, aren't you? - She remarked when she noticed your gaze wandering around the room.

- Is it that obvious? 

Nat laughed lightly.

- I suppose you are going to be uncomfortable for the next few minutes, since I just told her I was coming to talk to you and invite her to join me. - She tells you and you turn your face to her sharply with a surprised expression.

- Wait what?

But Nat is smiling past you and then you feel your body tense up as Wanda's voice sounds behind your back. Nat is saying something about how nice it is that everyone is together, while you turn around and you’re probably staring, but you can't react to having Wanda in front of you. Just as beautiful as she was three years ago.

- Hi. - She said a moment later looking up at you, a slight blush on her cheeks. It took a gentle nudge from Nat's elbow on your rib for you to react.

- Hi. - you exclaimed surprised and slightly uncomfortable. - How... How are you?

Wanda smiled awkwardly.

- Good, I... i'm good. And you? - she asked hesitantly. You nodded frantically, trying to smile.

 - Good, good. I... Good.

- Jesus. - You heard Natasha say as she looked at the two of you with a frown. - Okay. I'll put our names in the gymkhana, and you can continue with whatever this is by yourselves.

You scratched your neck uncomfortably as Natasha hurried to leave. 

- So... how are things? - Wanda asked, putting her hands in her pockets.

Ignoring your current anxiety, you assumed a thoughtful expression for a few seconds.

- Things are fine. I’m... I... I'm graduating. - You tell clumsily, running your hands through your hair. - Yeah, I... I'm graduating in a few weeks. 

- Wow, that’s actually really cool. - She comments with a smile. 

- I think so. - You say, laughing nervously. - What about you, Wands, how are you? Are you still studying?

Wanda blushes at the way you call her, looking away. You barely notice the nickname escaping your lips. But then she is smiling, so you don't notice much beyond that.

- Yes, I still have a year to go, but I'm doing well. - she says. You nod in understanding, but then Pietro is joining you two, a smile on his face.

- Wow, it's really good to see you Y/N. - He remarks as soon as he reaches you two and hugs you. You laugh lightly. 

- It's good to see you too, Pietro. - you say when you let go. - I like the beard, by the way.

- Thanks, I'm trying to look older. - He comments with a cocky smile, and you laugh, ignoring the nervousness of having Wanda looking right at you. - I didn't know you would be here today, I heard you were going back to California.

- Oh, yes, I... I am. - You say clumsily, gazing at Wanda quickly. - After I graduate, I'm going back home. I don't really have anything to keep me here.

- That's a shame, really. - Pietro says and you try to focus on his face and not on Wanda's frown. - But I hope you will keep in touch with everyone by skype at least.

He jokes last, and you laugh, nodding. And then he starts asking you about college and your parents, and you answer politely, trying to ignore the nervousness in your stomach that has settled with Wanda's attentive look on you.

- Pietro, would you get me something to drink, please? - Wanda asked after a moment, and you and Pietro looked at her in surprise, but she just smiled innocently, and her brother grumbled, before nodding and leaving. - Can we talk for a moment?

You blinked in confusion, but agree. Wanda took your hand next, and you bit the inside of your cheek, feeling your face flush as she pulled you around the yard, toward a farther area.

When she stopped walking, she let go of your hand, and turned around to face you, looking nervous and a bit anxious.

- Are you really leaving? - She asked with a almost sorrowful expression.

You straightened your posture, frowning slightly.

- Yes, I... Wanda, what is it? 

- Okay, I’m.. I'm going to say this once, because I have to, and then we'll go back to our life as before, okay? - She said hurriedly, closing her eyes for a moment as she took a deep breath while you just stare her. - I'm still in love with you. And I know we broke up two years ago, but I just couldn't move on. And I guess a part of me never will. - She confesses and you feel the air escape from your lungs. - And I need you to know this before you leave, because I almost couldn't come to this party because I knew you would be here. And I can't believe that we were this intense and amazing thing only just for me. - She says last. But you are in shock, so Wanda swallows dryly. - Damn, I'm... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything and…

- I love you. - You confess interrupting her, listening to your heart pounding in your ears.

- W-what?

- I love you. - You repeat breathlessly as you are moving forward and kissing Wanda firmly. She stumbles back in surprise, but you keep your hands on her face, until she sighs in delight and kisses you back with the same intensity. It feels as good as you remember, but eventually you part breathlessly and start talking with your forehead touching. - I'm sorry I ruined things between us. I was stupid, childish and a bloody idiot. But I'm completely in love with you and i have always been. 

Wanda lets out a surprised laugh, her eyes filled with tears. And then she kisses you again.

- God, we are a complete disaster. - She comments as you separate, making you laugh lightly. And then she swallows dryly, stroking your face with her thumbs. - What are we going to do now?

You smile, hugging her waist.

- I'm not going anywhere if you ask me to stay. - You tell her, making her sigh with surprise and happiness.

- Be my girlfriend, then. - She asks, and you let out a giggle. 

- I'd love to. - You say, and then back away a little. - We'll make it work this time, Wanda. I'm going to love you the right way now.

Wanda nods in understanding, looking at you tenderly.

- You have always loved me the right way. - she says. - We just didn't know how to show it properly.

You sigh.

- I missed you. - You say, bringing your foreheads together. 

- I missed you too. - She breathlessly retorts before kissing you again.

The kiss intensified in the next second, and you ended up pushing Wanda against the outer wall of the house, and she sighed into your mouth. God, you missed her taste. Then she sighed against your lips, and you slowed down, because you are literally in an engagement party.

When you parted, you let out a breathless giggle.

- We should get back to the party. - Wanda comments, her face close to yours. You grumble in agreement, before kissing her again, your tongue running slowly and sensually across her mouth, making a warmth rise in the pit of your stomach.

- Wow. - You say breathlessly a moment later, breaking the kiss for breath. Wanda's hands are dangerously low. She lets out a breathless chuckle, her face flushed. You swallow dryly, clearing your throat. - We'd better go before I can't stop.

Wanda smiles, nodding her head in agreement. And then you took a step back, and it was easier to breathe and think clearly.

When you returned to the party, holding hands, Natasha stared at you two and sighed, taking a twenty-dollar bill from her pocket and handing it to Pietro, who had a smug smile on his face. She complained that she had bet that you two would only get back together after the party, while Pietro had bet that it would be during. You and Wanda's faces reddened, but you laughed at the story.

Two years later, you visited Bucky and Sam, but now, the wedding invitation in your hand was yours.

[thedamageofherdays]

This week's (16-08-2021 - 22-08-2021) reading log is here. This week's reading log is super duper long and filled with lots of good things (my apologies for the long post, I really could not find a good spot to do a read more). I discovered some new favourites and re-read some old favourites and while I had an intense week personally at least the fics I read were absolutely phenomenal. I do recommend checking out the warnings as some fics are a bit heavier/angstier and you might wanna be prepared. Most of these fics are Stucky but there are a couple of other ships in between.

If you are looking for more fun and/or good things make sure to check out the @marveldisabilitycelebration as well to see all the awesome art, fics, meta, etcetera people created! And while I am mentioning events I am a mod for let me also just quickly mention that sign-ups for the @stuckygiftexchange are still open until the end of the month <3

Favourites are marked with a 🌻 Fics that are only available to AO3 users are marked with a 🔒 and Tumblr fics are marked with a 🍀

🌻 The Bends by dreamsinthewitchouse @dreamsinthewitchouse [Danbeau, side Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

Memory is not a house you can just walk back into after finding the key you thought you’d lost. It’s a thing you wade into and out of, rewriting it as it rewrites you.

It’s not without its rewards, either - recovering a memory about Maria and Monica, about her life, feels better than socking a thousand bad guys in the face, better than all the photon blasts in the world.

Then again, realising there’s still memories she can’t access, even after all this time, feels like drowning in space.

Not the one out there - the one inside her.

🌻 Sweet & Salty by musette22 @musette22 [Stucky, 3k words, Teen]

Idiots in love. That's it. That's the fic.

When life gives you lemons by moonythejedi394 @moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 34k words, Explicit] (11/15 chapters)

Or 13 Terrible Things to Do With Lemons Other Than Making Lemonade

Steve Rogers is a home health nurse. He works for an agency, which assigned him to the aging Winifred Barnes, the one and only Silent Era Hollywood darling. As her needs increased, she requested the agency assign Steve to her full-time. She could pay for it, so she got it. Steve then moved in with her, becoming her caregiver; he cooked, he cleaned, he managed her medications, he made sure she was comfortable.

Winifred's children treated him less than ideally. He was the help, after all. And then Steve had the audacity to go and turn out to be eldest son James Barnes's soulmate. No one saw that coming.

🍀 SamRhodey Tumblr Fic by ipoiledi [SamRhodey, ? words, Teen?]

“Wilson, this is Rhodey; Rhodey, Wilson,” Tony Stark says, and suddenly some six foot tall sexy guy is shoved right in front of Sam, and they both stumble a little, bumping into each other. This is a crowded party. “You guys have things in common, right?” Stark asks. “Uh, Army stuff. Talk about that. I hate wallflowers; stop wallflowering and talk to each other.”

Shorteralls by moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 6k words, Explicit]

The first time Bucky ever saw Steve Rogers, he was struck by how Neanderthal-like his response was. It was immediately followed by a bout of mental scolding. The second time was just about the same. The third time, it was actually appropriate for Bucky to start a conversation with him, at which point he was determined to be the gentleman.

No such luck. Steve Rogers is, always has been and always will be, a relentless flirt. These days, Bucky's Neanderthal-ist feelings about Steve are consensual and highly appreciated. More so now that they're having a baby.

what the fuck are perfect places anyway by tigerlilycorinne [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

Steve clears his throat and stands. “Well, I should head in. I might want to begin packing.”

Bucky stills. “You won’t,” he says, trying to sound commanding. It only comes out uncertain. “Don’t.”

Steve shakes his head. “Maybe not tonight,” he says, and Bucky knows they’ll be discussing this again soon.

“Then stay. Play… play cards with me or something.”

Steve’s eyebrows jump up, his mouth tugging up in another of his bemused smiles that do things to Bucky’s insides, but he drops his hand from the doorway and steps back into Bucky’s room. Somehow, Bucky feels as if he’s won—not the war, just the battle.

Steve won’t stay forever. But he’ll stay for cards.

Steve and Bucky, on the run after Civil War (with a few alterations to canon), are laying low in Wakanda. But they can’t stay there forever.

🌻 honestly thought i’d be dead by now, but what you can trust is that i need your touch by moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 105k words, Explicit]

Bucky is 37 years old; he’s unmarried, hasn’t had a Sub of his own, is definitely not ripped, comfortable at his job as an Advanced Practice RN at Brooklyn General ER, and just got his Five Years coin from AA.

Steve is 26 years old; he’s unmarried, his last and only Dom has Alzheimer's, he's worryingly muscular, uncomfortable in his job as the government’s poster Alpha for masculinity and strength, and worries more than he should about his BMI.

Unfortunately, Steve and Bucky meet initially in a not-cute moment. Bucky’s tired as shit thanks to the sudden alien invasion that shook New York and Steve is tired as shit because he hasn’t slept more than 20 minutes at a time in – well, since 1936, probably. Bucky’s Alpha instincts get irritated at the sudden presence of another "Alpha" into his territory and Steve’s suppressed submissive tendencies latch onto this grumpy bachelor Alpha and he only suppresses it further.

Bucky’s grumpiness and Steve’s duckling impressionism aside, both of them are a mess. But since both of them are a mess? Their messes seem to fit pretty well together.

Deep Sea Diving by Aida Ronan [Stucky, 5k words, Explicit]

Steve's wallowing in heat-related misery under a shade tree in Central Park when a man walks by in bright red booty shorts and a crop top. RIP Steve Rogers. It was nice knowing you.

honey, make this easy by steebadore [Stucky, 8k words, Explicit]

Bucky likes the way he looks. His silk button up with the tiny gold polka dots feels soft on his skin and is tailored perfectly; no pulling at his chest or belly. His hair falls in shiny dark waves and his skin is smooth and dewy. He looks expensive. He looks taken care of. He looks like Steve’s.

🌻 let's take it back to the start by howdoyousleep @howdoyousleep3 [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

How it all began.

This sleepwalking through my life. by barthelme [Stucky, 1k words, Explicit]

The internet is an interesting place and when Bucky came home (or, when he came to live with Steve), Steve did a lot of research. Apparently, it’s not safe to wake a sleepwalker. He assumes that waking a sleepwalker with traumatic dreams and PTSD is beyond just being frowned upon.

And he tells himself--has told himself--that this is safer for Bucky. That if he were to stop him and wake him up, that Bucky would be mortified to be slurping on his best friend’s cock. That all of the improvements he’s made would be lost, would be repressed, would be just--

They’d be back at square one.

So he lets Bucky do it.

🌻 the way i've been craving by howdoyousleep [Stucky, 3k words, Explicit]

"Lunch break at 12:30. My office. Hope you’re hungry…"

It’s the ellipsis that sends Bucky’s insides swimming warmly, his heart beating twice as fast against his ribs where he sits in class. Senator Rogers is concise, direct, to the point. Without an ellipsis this is lunch, this is a meeting. With it though?

This is a booty call.

nasty but classy by howdoyousleep [Stucky, 4k words, Explicit]

“No, you don’t have to know the purpose, that doesn’t matter. Nat showed me this challenge where couples drink a lot of wine and get drunk together but they can’t touch each other. And whoever touches the other first has to...has to give the other head.”

🌻 Put It on Repeat, It Stays the Same by giselleslash [Stucky, 20k words, Explicit]

Steve and Bucky have a one night stand that turns into a friends with benefits situation. A weekend snowed in at Bucky’s apartment brings to light how much that really doesn’t suit either one of them.

Greetings to the New Brunette by victoria_p (musesfool) [Stucky, 10k words, General]

"You said he should have a hobby. That it would help."

"I meant, like, knitting or coin collecting. Motocross, if he was feeling antsy. A baby's not a hobby. It's lifetime commitment."

🌻 Rogers & Barnes: Partners by triedunture [Stucky, 10k words, Teen]

Steve and Bucky have to pose as a couple for a mission. Nat insists it really is the only option. She's checked.

The complication: unbeknownst to even Natasha, Steve and Bucky's friendship has been rocky ever since Bucky confessed his tender feelings and Steve left him out in the cold. Can asexual, completely-in-love-with-his-angry-best-friend Steve complete the mission and win Bucky's heart?

(The answer is yes. Yay!)

this will be our year (took a long time to come) by biblionerd07 [Stucky, 4k words, General]

Bucky's therapist is worried he's using Steve as a crutch and wants him to try going on outings without Steve. It wouldn't be terrible, honestly, if Bucky could just manage to open his mouth and say something to Steve.

I'll hold my breath by Little_Lottie (tfwatson) [Stucky, 8k words, Mature]

Sometimes Bucky’s hands flex in Steve's direction. Neither of them knows exactly why, but at least one of them has a hunch.

Bucky touches everything but Steve, even though Steve is all he really wants to touch.

Start from the Beginning by Mumble_Bee [Stucky, 13k words, Explicit]

What about a sex pollen fic where the pollen-ed one doesn’t remember getting hit in the face with a sex flower, and wakes up midway through the depollenating?

Or: the one where Steve wakes up on his back with a stranger buried balls-deep in his ass.

Match by emphasisonem [Stucky, 4k words, Mature]

The situation’s actually kind of funny from the right perspective, Bucky thinks as he reads the message for what feels like the hundredth time. He’s finally matched with a hot, funny guy. Tall and broad and clean cut. An absolutely breathtaking smile. Bucky’s walking wet dream. And he’s good. They haven’t messaged on the app, but Bucky already knows him.

He knows him because Steve Rogers is an art history professor at his university. His art history professor.

Best friends and married since childhood by StuckySituation [Stucky, 1k words, General]

Inspired by @/peterssquill's post in tumblr: "bucky and steve got married on the playground when they were like eight and though neither of them would ever admit it to anyone, even each other, they still consider it official"

~♥~ ♥~ ♥~

“Natasha, stop trying to set me up with every woman you meet, I’m-”

“Too shy? Too scared?”

“No, I’m-”

“Too busy? You’re mostly retired these days, not a good excuse anymore.” Natasha smirks and then drawls: “Or just too gay?”

Steve flushes at that, even if isn’t true -- he’s bisexual, not gay. “Let it go, Nat, I’m not looking for anything. I’m already married, for fuck’s sake.”

Clearly not what she expected. “What.”

Steve grimaces. He didn’t mean to tell anyone that, ever.

“Sorry, can’t talk about it right now!” he says and jumps out of the plane.

Nobody Should Be Alone on a Holiday by emphasisonem [Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

“So, um-” Bucky begins speaking again, pulling Steve from his less-than-work-appropriate thoughts. The brunet has shoved his hands into the pockets of his dark slacks, and he’s shifting from one foot to the other as he smiles shyly. “I have a question for you.”

“Shoot,” Steve grins, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his broad chest. Bucky swallows deeply as one of his hands comes up to pull at the collar of his button-up, and Steve can’t help following the motion of his Adam’s apple.

“I was, uh-” Bucky continues- “That is, I heard you don’t have Thanksgiving plans?”

In which Bucky finds out that Steve's going to be alone on Thanksgiving and invites his coworker to spend the holiday with him.

🌻 It's Been A Long Season Through by thiccbuckybarnes @thiccbuckybarnesfic [Stucky, 49k words, Explicit]

Bucky Barnes is in desperate need of a change in scenery, which is why he makes the foolhardy decision to quit his job, leave his asshole of a fiance, pack up his life, and move to his grandfather’s old farm all within a single day.

He expects confusion, hardship, and maybe even failure. But love? He wasn’t expecting that.

--

Or, a Stucky Stardew Valley AU that nobody but me wanted and that’s ok.

oh, peach pit, where'd the hours go? by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 10k words, Explicit]

Can't see the forest for the trees.

--

Or, Steve learns that just because he and Bucky got their happily ever after, it doesn’t mean the past won’t come back to bite them.

I'll find my way by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 725 words, Teen]

Steve had watched Bucky fall, and nothing had been the same since.

AU-gust day 19: Daemons

special delivery by glim @glim [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

It's not that Steve's bad at taking care of himself when he gets sick; he just wishes he didn't have to all the time.

At least he can order most of what he needs online. That's some small comfort, that he can have soup and ice cream and everything else brought to his door.

at first chance i'd take the bed warmed by the body by spacebuck @spacebuck [Stucky, 8k words, Explicit]

This close, Steve can see exactly how beautiful his hands are. He’s never really noticed before, or at least he’s never really had a reason to notice, but the man’s hands are large, tanned like he works outside all day. There’s an endearing callus on the heel of one of his palms, and Steve can’t quite work out when calluses became endearing.

Steve pauses the video. Swallows hard. Casts his eyes around for anything that’ll keep his mind off the hands on his screen, off the words inked into those hands, the delicate shape of a bird’s wing, the curling edge of a vine.

He looks down. The name of the channel is right there, blaring the man’s name right into Steve’s brain until it feels like he’s known it all along.

Bucky Barnes.

OR: the one where Bucky's a youtuber who solves puzzles on camera, and steve's smitten and horny

🌻 Rock On! by millesable @marvelousescapism [Clintasha, 700 words, General]

“Hey, Romanoff!”

He lifted his hand, index finger and pinky finger raised, thumb out, all other fingers tucked. Their secret sign; their confession for the world to see, safe in the knowledge that the world wasn’t listening.

“Rock on!”

🌻 You Like the Way I Look by dontcallmebree @iamthe-wo-manwhocan [Stucky, 2k words, Explicit]

Bucky sidles up to him, hand boldly coming to rest on his chest. “What about you, big guy? Care for a dance?” Steve watches Bucky’s eyes twinkle with satisfaction, somehow already knowing he’s got Steve on the hook.

A decade out of the ice, Steve Rogers returns to New York. Reeling from a battle against the Chitauri, a night with the troublesome Bucky Barnes might be just what he needs.

Join the Rebellion by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 765 words, Teen]

Bucky knew he shouldn't be out after curfew, but he couldn't resist the urge. He didn’t know where he was going, but he knew it was where he wanted to be.

AU-gust day 20: Dystopia

🔒 Five Days in December by mywingsareonwheels @mywingsareonwheels [Evanstan, 4k words, Teen]

“Shit shit shit shit...” muttered Chris to himself, glad that the sound of piped Christmas carols was drowning out his swearing amid the picture books. Most of the store was heaving even though it was Sunday, he’d been recognised at least three times, finding presents for all of his nieces and nephews was proving far more of a headache than expected, and he’d just sent a pile of copies of "Strictly No Elephants" tumbling off the bookshelf.

He scrambled about trying to pick them all up, and then dropped them again as someone bumped right into his backside. He lost his balance, caught himself against a bookcase, and a landslide of "Carter Is a Painter’s Cat" joined "Strictly No Elephants" on the floor. He yelped.

“Ah fuck, I’m so sorry… Chris!”

* * * * * * * * * *

London, December 2021. Amid cats, books, and the cold English drizzle, Chris finds everything he was hoping for and thought he would never have.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Reaching for Fire by dixons_mama @dixons-mama [Stucky, 7k words, Explicit]

Bucky has always felt a fire in his heart (and other body parts) when it came to his boss, Steve Rogers, but he's made sure to never feed those flames. When he finds out about Steve's second job, though, he's tempted to let that fire out.

i've been dreaming of a face like yours by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 3k words, Explicit]

Bucky is about to busy himself with making a small dinner for himself when he stops in his tracks at the figure drinking a cup of coffee in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and smirking at him.

It’s Steve.

“Surprise, sweet boy,” he says before setting his cup down.

--

Or, PWP reunion sex

🌻 Somewhere, Under Your Skin by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 16k words, Explicit]

Bucky Barnes treats himself to a one-night stand after having a very bad no good day.

The sex is good--great, even. Might be the best sex of his life.

But Bucky wouldn’t have slept with the guy if he had known that he was going to continuously run into him every day for the next fucking month.

--

Or, a Big Grump Bucky has a hot one night stand with a college kid who is popping up everywhere in his everyday life and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

(Written for HYBB Bingo Square: Grumpy Bucky)

i've played heartstrings before but not in your key by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 11k words, Explicit]

He glances down, seeing a folded couple of papers, before peering up at Bucky. The older man is biting his bottom lip, making it pretty and red. Steve wants to run his tongue across where his teeth are digging into his flesh.

"What's this?" Steve asks, setting his phone down, emails forgotten. Bucky shrugs and looks away.

"I dunno. You tell me, genius," he says, sounding bratty enough that it makes Steve's dick twitch in his pants. Jesus, there has to be something wrong with him.

Steve glances once more at Bucky, who now has his arms crossed against his chest and is pointedly not looking at Steve, before picking up the stack of folded papers. He opens them, seeing a collection of maybe five or six sheets of paper. His eyes immediately land on the list of familiar words with negative next to each one. -- Or, Steve Rogers is a jealous, possessive little shit that wants nothing more than to mark up his boyfriend and stake his claim. And Bucky knows it. (And he likes it.)

🌻 I'm Home (With You) by BonkyBornes @padfoot-and-the-marauders [Stucky, 2k words, General]

In any other circumstance, the apartment would've been perfect. But it was today, and the fact that he was here meant he wasn’t out searching. He knew they hadn’t had any leads for weeks and he knew Natasha was right; all three of them were exhausted and a break would do them good. It just felt wrong to Steve that he was comfortable while Bucky was still out there—somewhere. Probably cold. Probably hungry.

The knock came again. Sighing, Steve unwrapped his hand from the dog tags and remembered how to move. Cold wind and snow greeted him when he opened the door. The solitary figure was walking down the steps, collar popped against the chill.

“Did you need something?” he called.

The person stopped. They were still. And then they turned. *

Or, the Christmas Steve deserved after Winter Soldier.

The portrait by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 915 words, General]

Steve Rogers has a Gift. He can help people find their soulmates, all he needs is some art supplies, a quiet place, and eye contact.

AU-gust day 21: soulmates

Maybe A Muse by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 2k words, Mature]

When Bucky Barnes needs extra money, he’s appalled that his best friends think he should become a model for the art department on campus. Shy, nerdy, and socially awkward, he’s not sure that’s something he feels comfortable doing. Still, he needs money, and he likes the idea of becoming someone’s muse. The problem is he had no idea two things would happen. First, one of the students in the class is exactly his type; second, he has to model nude.

[dadsbongos]

la lune

Movie/Game/Show: Marvel Dynamic: Steve Rogers/Reader (Platonic) Warnings: steve’s endgame ending, daddy issues ig?, i describe you as having a mom :) Summary: He promised to keep the moon for you. He also promised to stay. Word Count: 1.1 K ~~~

Steve enjoyed telling stories of his dearest friends when there were lulls of silence in the house. He liked talking about how Bucky was adjusting in Wakanda or how Sam was rising as a hero or the way Natasha was able to take out five guards before he’d even gotten through the door on a mission. He liked turning to his wife while making dinner and updating her on Wanda and Vision. He liked turning to you and asking if you were sure that you didn’t want to meet the fabled Ant-Man, because he was in town, you know - and he has a daughter, too, you know.

He liked having friends and involving his little family on the circle. He liked that he found a woman willing to let the man out of time be a father. He enjoyed being a step-father just as he always pictured enjoying being a biological father.

And you knew that. You’d been told that. You’d heard it again and again. You knew that Steve loved your mother. You knew that Steve loved you.

So why did he leave you both?

Why would he leave?

For who? Peggy Carter?

A woman he kissed once compared to the woman he’d woken up next to and said he loved for years and yet he chose the former.

You remember asking him that day. After Sam took the shield with shaky hands and Bucky was leading your poor mother away to the side. You remember asking him,

“Did you have another kid?”

It was so selfish. But you needed to know. With a frown on your lips and waterline beginning to moisten. You asked again,

“Did you and that jackass from the 40s have a fucking kid?”

He shook his head, patting the spot on the log beside him, an offer that you deny. Steve looked to his loafers before simply shaking his head again.

You jammed your hands in your pockets and kicked at some dirt.

“My mom trusted you. You made us think you were staying with us. That we were your family but you- you…”

There’s the sound of a clang and you look over, Sam had plopped a wooden cutting board onto the counter before moving to the sink to wash vegetables while you simmer broth. Over summers, your mother’s taken to letting you stay and work with the Wilsons (and by proxy, now Bucky as well). You can see Sam take glances at you out of your peripherals.

“What?”

“You feeling okay?” his voice is quiet despite knowing that Sarah, Bucky, and the boys are all out back, “You’ve seemed out of it for awhile.”

You nod, “‘m fine.”

Sam sighs, “You know I don’t buy that. And if I did, I’d be returning it.”

You chuckle before shaking your head and pursing your lips, “Just fuckin’... sucks. I hate him.”

He doesn’t bother telling you that you don’t. He doesn’t bother trying to get you to push those feelings down and smile for the sake of him, or Bucky, or your mother. He nods to your words and goes on to agree.

“I can’t imagine what you and your mom are going through. I can’t relate but I want you to know I’m here,” Sam dries the carrots as he speaks, “That’s why I like having you here. If you feel like you can’t talk to your mom, I’m always listening.”

“Thanks, Sam,” it’s dry and less than he deserves but it’s the most that your voice, thickened with emotion, can offer.

There’s silence like molasses as Sam moves on to washing potatoes and celery. You continue watching the broth. Stirring when the stillness grows uncomfortable.

“Steve once told me that any story someone tells you in the kitchen is a good one. Said he heard that from you.”

“I did tell him that,” Sam murmurs, “Why bring it up?” it’s gentle questioning but you can tell he wants the bottom line, “Got a story?”

“I’ve just… I don’t know - been thinking a lot.”

“About what?”

You tilt your head to the side slightly, “I had a favorite book when I was little. Called Papa Please Get the Moon For Me by Eric Carle - it was just sorta about this guy who steals the moon because his kid asks him to. It was like my favorite book, even though I didn’t really have a dad to even relate it to…” you stir the contents of the pot as Sam chops carrots, “One day the dog had gotten ahold of it and tore it to shit. I cried, honestly. I could’ve gotten a new one but… I didn’t,” you purse your lips, “My birthday came around and when all the distant family left and Mom was cleaning up, he gave me a present- “

“New copy of your book?”

“Nah,” you shake your head and a smile almost reaches your lips before being smothered down by the knowledge of how he’d left, “it was uh, a model of the moon. He helped me hang it up.”

Sam pauses his cutting to turn and look at you, brows drawn tight in worry.

“He got me the moon,” you bite your lip, staring down into the dark brown broth, “Best he could anyway… but he- he got me the moon…”

“I’m so sorry,” Sam refrains from reaching out, he doesn’t want to scare you out of sharing, “You didn’t deserve that. He shouldn’t have left.”

“I think the worst thing is that I don’t know if I can take it down,” your lip wobbles as the sorrow tucked inside your heart begins beating at you, “I miss him. A lot.”

You turn and Sam carefully takes you into a hug, whispering as he holds you, “It’s okay to miss him. It’s okay.”

You can feel your grip tighten on Sam’s shirt as a sob cracks a final wreck on your throat. Burrowing your face into the man’s shirt, you shake your head and cry, “He was supposed to take care of us, Sam. I thought he loved us… I really thought we would be okay…”

There’s one question that’s lined underneath your broken sobs.

Why?

Why would he leave like that? For a woman he hadn’t seen in years. For a family with no child like you - no child at all. For Peggy Carter and Peggy Carter alone.

It was so, so selfish. Truly. But you wanted the moon and when your father gave it to you, you assumed it was for good.

Then, he took it back. Ripped it out of your sky and threw it to the endless abyss of the inked blotches of nighttime. Your father took the moon for Peggy Carter.

He took the moon for Peggy Carter.

[georgiapeach305132]

Desperate Affairs *Ransom Talks to Sam*

Summary:  What was Ransom talking to Detective Wilson about?

Rating:  Explicit

Warnings: Explicit content, mentions of infidelity, mentions of spousal abuse, mentions of assault, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  1.2k

Previous

Sam leads Ransom out of the house, but Ransom’s blue eyes keep looking back into the house, not seeing you depart from the girls’ room.  When they get further away from the door, he can’t help but want to rip Andy apart.  Seeing him, pretending to be emotional.  Or maybe he is, but his tears aren’t because he hurt you, they’re because he got caught.  No doubt, he’s running through all the ways to make it go away.  Thinking of what he can say to you, for you not to leave him or press charges.

“You want to tell me what happened?”

“Don’t know what happened, just what I walked into,” he answers, still scowling at Andy.

“Start from the beginning.”

Ransom finally turns to look at Sam.  He’s not sure how you’re going to feel about his honesty, but he can’t let this go.  He knows there’s a big possibility that you will lie and cover it up for Andy.  He’s got you so entwined in keeping the image of the perfect family, you��ll make up any excuse to protect Andy.  “I heard her scream.”

“Scream how?” Sam asks, his gaze looking back at Andy.

“Like she was in pain.  When I came through the door, he had her pinned up against the wall, his fingers squeezing her cheeks.  And his daughter was right beside her screaming.”

“Why do you think he did that?”

“I don’t know,” Ransom’s voice raises.  “Why would any man do that?  You saw the dent.  He’s got anger issues.”

“If he did hurt her, it isn’t right, I’m just trying to figure out what started this.”

“When he stopped, I gave her Aster.  Told her to take them in the room and lock the door.  Then he came after me.  Shoved me up against the wall, and put his arm against my throat,” just to highlight that point he pulls down his shirt.  Red mark clearly visible.  “He even threated me.  It’s like he’s obsessed with his wife.  He’s controlling.”

“How are you a part of the equation?”

“Aster is my daughter.  Iris is Andy’s,” Sam nods.  Clearly realizing that there’s a lot more layers to this story.  “Look, we had an affair.  I’m a part of the problem, but he shouldn’t touch her.  The girls were there and they saw their mom scared.”

“I’m assuming she isn’t going to press charges.  Come by the station, let them take your statement, take pictures, and you can press charges.  You’re looking at simple assault, attempted battery, threat to commit a crime, and that’s the short list.”

Ransom looks back at Andy, seeing in that moment how cold and emotionless you are to him, when Lee leads you out for Andy to say goodbye.  And when Andy kisses Aster on the head last, turning his head to smirk at Ransom, he knows what he has to do.  “Okay, does it have to be tonight?  I’d like to know she’s okay, and her and the girls are settled.

“It’ll be best if it’s tonight for at least the pictures.  I’ll meet you there.  Do it myself.”

Ransom nods at him.  He knows you may never forgive him, but if it means that you and the girls are protected, he’ll do what he has to do.  “I’ll come by in the morning.  Maybe later tonight.  I just...she has to be okay.”

Sam gives Ransom a knowing glance, but ignores it.  He watches Ransom walk quickly over to you, taking Aster out of your arms, to help get her in the seats.  His hand briefly running down your cheek, and you slowly closing your eyes at the contact, looking sad when he walks away.  He knows there’s a lot that someone isn’t saying.  

Grabbing out his phone, and sparing a glance back at Ransom, he watches you walk back in with Lee, and only when you’re out of sight does he entertain the girls.  Hey man.  I need a huge favor.

You always need a damn favor.  Bucky responds to Sam’s text.

I’ve got a domestic dispute I’m relocating tonight.  She needs help.  There are two dads involved.  A husband and a man she had affair with.  

I think I know who you’re talking about.  What’s the favor?

I want her to call you.  Gonna persuade her.  Make time for her.

If she calls.  I will

Sam opens the driver side door, “If she’ll let me, I’ll help her out.  But that needs to get photographed sooner rather than later if you want a case against him.  He won’t be easy.  He’s loved by the department.”

“And none of them know how he really is.”

“A word of advice, don’t embellish anything.  Andy most likely will get out of the charges regardless,” Sam always got an odd feeling with Andy.  He always thought things seemed too calculated with him.  And then there were times he was a bit more carefree, and not as much on his game.

“Then what’s the point?”

“Documentation.  You gonna be prepared for her to get mad at you?  Not saying she will, but...women in bad situations aren’t always appreciative at first.”

Ransom’s eyes move from Sam to your form only giving Andy a quick glance before Lee leads you out the door.  His eyes never leave you.  There are so many things he wants to say to you, and no time.  Nothing could have prepared him to see that, and if he pursues charges on Andy, there may be some time you hate him, but if means you and the girls are safe.  That’s exactly what he’ll do.  

“The best thing for you ta do is ta go on home.  Don’t linger here,” Lee tells Ransom.

Ransom gives Andy one more look of disgust before back at Lee, “Wasn’t planning on it,” before getting in his car.

___________________________________________________________________

“I got to make this quick,” Ransom grouses to Sam as he pulls down his collar.

“Easy pretty boy.  Why are you in such a rush?”

“I have to take something to my grandfather’s.”

Sam rolls his eyes up at Ransom, nearly laughing.

“There’s nothing funny about this.  Did you get the pictures?”

“What do you have to take to his house?  Or are you just going to see a pretty face?”

Ransom rolls his eyes as Sam takes yet another picture.  Grunting Ransom lets go of his shirt, and doing up his buttons.  “It’s not like that.”

“Of course not.  Because she’s married,” Ransom shoots daggers over to Sam.  “Look, I’m just saying I’ve seen a few people in love before.  It’s the same look my buddy gives my sister.  The same look I give my wife.”

“I’m not in love.”

“Okay.  I guess you’re just a friend then.”

“We’re done?”

“You coming back tonight for the statement?  After you go to your grandfather’s that is,” Ransom contemplates this.  He doesn’t know what going to Harlan’s will entail.  Other than dropping something off.  He’ll allow you to control what he should do.  “I’ll tell you what, I’ll give you my card.  Even if it’s tomorrow.  I know it’s getting late.  He lives pretty far out.  And you’re dropping off a ‘package’.”

“Don’t do that,” Ransom knows what Sam is thinking.

“Do what?”

“Make it nasty.  I am, I’m dropping off something for Iris.”

Next

Masterlist

@thedarkplume @jamalflanagan @geminixevans @donutloverxo @kthynes @myywritingspot @alexakeyloveloki @unabashedfoxcheesecake @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @nadyaya7 @thesterlingstudy @arithegemini @sunsetfreedom05​ @meandcevans​ @cheeseburgersstuff​ @helenasmirkedno @bemysugarbean​ @shookyscrumbs @likewisesleeping​ @dyinglikenarcissus​ @babysgotneeds @ilovetaquitosmmmm @ @sumtimesitbelikedat @rosalynshields @sstan-hoe​ @lou-lou26​ @la-cey​ @mansaaay​ @flowerjewels​ @piertrotica-recs @fluffy-bb-107 @duuhrayliegh @chris-butt @flawlessglamazon @densi4evr @dyinglikenarcissus @kenequa @mercurial-make-em-ups @grymrayven @jsfics @chcblndnrd75 @evanspascalslutt @noturningbacknow @bostonsshield @noturningbacknow @kenequa @ccmarvelxx @densi4evr