#he keeps tryna get her to come hang out downstairs but she's having absolutely none of it

[rebouks]

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[Robin kicked his textbook, launching it halfway across the attic in frustration] Clementine: Sorry, I was never good at math… Robin: It’s not-.. I can’t concentrate anyway. Robin: I hate being sucked into other people’s stupid heads! [Robin’s stomach still twisted from earlier and he clung to his temples, as though ripping his own head off might help] Clementine: I’d take it from you in a heartbeat if I could, darlin’. Robin: What’s it like to be dead..? Clementine: Oh, I’m not sure you should ask me. Robin: Why not? Clementine: Well, I’d say I feel just the same as before. Robin: But… Clementine: I’m still deceased? Robin: Yeah. Clementine: Most folk go somewhere else though, hm? Perhaps we should ask them. [Clementine poked Robin’s chest with mirth, her ghostly touch sending a shockwave of shivers down his spine] Robin: Hey! Quit doing that. Clementine: Come now, let me have a little fun! I don’t get much of it up here. Robin: So, come downstairs. Clementine: Oh, I simply couldn’t. Robin: I bet you can if you try, we could-… Clementine: I CAN’T! [Robin’s skin prickled as Clementine lost her temper, the pages of his abandoned textbook wafting ominously] Robin: Okay, okay! [Oscar’s distant yelling made Robin jump, cutting through the sudden tension like butter-.. dinner was ready] Clementine: You ought to take your dinner up here one day, your father’s cooking sounds delicious. Robin: I’ll bring you something for afters-.. you can look at it, I guess. [Clementine nodded, forcing a smile as Robin began his descent] Clementine: Disappointing. Robin: What? Clementine: Being dead, that’s what it feels like…

[nineteenninety-six]

can I request a John piece where he and MC live in the Wild West and he’s an outlaw while she’s a notable person (sheriff’s daughter, saloon worker, etc) thank you! (:

I’ve never done an AU and I’m also a European who knows nothing about the wild west so I hope this is passable. 

Wild West!AU

John eyed the town around him as he rode in on his horse, it was on the smaller side of towns but it would be suitable enough to hide away in for a week or so. He slid off his horse and tied it up before he looked around for the saloon so he could escape the harsh sun. He removed the pouch of money from the saddle of his bag and placed it in his side bag hoping it didn’t make too much noise.

He was on the run. He had pulled off a robbery that had left most of the crew dead and the ones that survived, his two brothers, had scattered with a promise to meet up at an agreed place in a few months. They had split the money but since there were only a few of them left, each of them got a large amount.

The people outside gave him curious glances but quickly returned to what they were doing, not finding him interesting which John was grateful for. He quickly made his way towards the saloon and breathed a sigh of relief when he escaped the blistering heat, the saloon was dark and dusty yet miles better than the outside.

There were a few people nursing their drinks but none of them looked at him as entered as he made his way towards the person behind the bar.

“How may I help you?”

The person turned around and gave him a sweet smile, catching him off guard. John had expected it to be a man like in every other saloon he had been in but instead, it was a young woman.

“Any rooms available?”

“Yes sir. For how long?”

“Not sure. I’ll pay as I go along” John said as he paid for the first night’s fees.

“Of course”

She gave him a tiny smile before she turned around and picked a key off a hook, she gestured him to follow her as she made her way upstairs to the rooms that rested above the saloon. She unlocked his room for him and gave him the key before she gave him one last smile and returned downstairs.

John watched her until her skirt disappeared around the corner before he entered his room. He promised himself that he would get to know her.

The next afternoon when John wandered down, the woman was back behind the bar but compared to the day before, the saloon was busy and there was a crowd of men crowded against the bar.

It wasn’t hard to guess that the reason was because of the woman and John knew that he wouldn’t be able to get a drink whilst they were all there and found a table towards the back and waited for the crowd to die down.

As soon as the beginning of the next hour chimed, the crowd left the saloon with a collective groan, and John watched them with an amused smirk. It seemed they had all rushed there on their pause from work but now they all had to work which gave John uninterrupted time with the mysterious woman behind the bar.

“You seem mighty popular” John teased as he took a seta, catching her attention

“Men see a pretty woman and lose their mind” She rolled her eyes, “I could tell one of them to rob a bank and they’ll do it”

“Now those weren’t men, they were simply boys”

“Oh? Explain the difference to me”

John leant forward on the bar, leaning on his arms and gave her a grin, “While a boy might go rob a bank simply because you told him, a man will take you along with him to rob the bank together” The woman barked out a laugh at his words, “Okay, outlaw settle down. I can’t have you tryna get me trouble now”

“Why, scared of the sheriff?”

“Hmm, something like that.” The woman changed the subject, “What can I get you?”

John ordered his drink and took a seat at the bar but continued talking to her, he still hadn’t gotten her name yet though. They weren’t alone long before the doors to the saloon swung open and a large man stepped in, he paused at the doors and looked around the room before he began to make his way over to the bar.

“(Y/N), you here?”

“Where else would I be, daddy?” The woman turned to the man with a smile.

“Elias told me about those boys hanging around her at lunch” The older man’s lip curled as he spoke, “You know I don’t trust them boys”

The woman sighed, “I know. I also know to steer clear of them”

As the man got close to the bar John could see the sheriff’s uniform he was wearing and realised with a jolt that the woman was the sheriff’s daughter and he thought back to the pouch of money that was in his room.

“Hmm,” The sheriff pursed his lips and eyed John with a little suspicion before he turned back to his daughter, “Just wanted to check up on ya. I’ll see you at dinner.”

“You’re not gonna stay for a drink?”

“Not today, sweetheart”

With that he left, the saloon doors swinging behind him.

John watched him leave and turned back to the woman behind the bar, “You’re the sheriff’s daughter”

“That’s me.” She stuck her hand out, “My name is (Y/N)”

“John” He replied as he shook it, “Excuse my forwardness but how’d the sheriff’s daughter get to be the barkeep?”

“It’s so he knows where I am, he doesn’t trust those local boys”

“But a woman bartender? I’ve never seen one before”

“No one wants to deny the sheriff with a gun and anger problems” (Y/N) laughed

John laughed along with her, “But everyone has a gun”

“Sure but not everyone’s the sheriff”

“Then I should keep my eyes and hands to myself, right?”

(Y/N) locked eyes with and gave him one of her smiles, “That’ll be smart”

That night as John laid in bed he thought about what he had learnt that day and his current predicament. He would be in deep trouble if the sheriff finds out who he was but he felt such an attraction to (Y/N) that he didn’t want to leave, especially out of the blue.

He wanted to do something stupid. He didn’t even know (Y/N) but he wanted to run away with her and introduce her to more than the shabby little town she was tied down to and he doubted that her father would let go either, judging his constant checking up on her to make sure she was where she was supposed to be and not hanging out with anyone he disapproved of.

The next day, John was back at the bar with another drink in his hand after he paid for that night’s board and the more he spoke to (Y/N) the more he realised that she wasn’t satisfied with her life in the town.

“Why don’t you leave?” He asked, curious

“My father would drag me back here if I even dared. He wants me to stay here and marry a boy he likes- which judging by his recent behaviour, is Elias”

“You don’t want to do that?”

“I want to travel” (Y/N) gushed, “I want to see everything this country has to offer and not be trapped here with a man that my father wants me to marry and my input means nothing”

John stared at her for a moment before he sprung the idea on her,

“Then run away. I’ll be leaving here soon, join me and we can explore together”

(Y/N) scoffed and rolled her eyes, “I wish”

“I’m serious” John locked eyes with her and hope she could see his sincerity

“How can we do that?” (Y/N) asked, not completely believing him.

“ I can do odd jobs, get some us money while we travel” John tried to sell the idea of her coming with him, “Think about it”

(Y/N) opened her mouth as if to argue but she closed it and nodded, “I’ll think about it”

A few days later after not hearing from (Y/N) nor seeing her, John received a knock on his door late at night and it was (Y/N).

“Can I come in?” She asked, looking over her shoulder as she spoke, looking skittish.

John opened the door wider and motioned her in. She looked around his room in mild interest before she turned him and gave up a crumpled up piece of paper,

“Explain. Now”

John unravelled it and swore underneath his breath at what he saw. It was a wanted poster with his face on it and a bounty.

“Where did you get this?”

“My father came in earlier, put some up around the saloon.” (Y/N) told him, “He didn’t recognise you from earlier” John bit his lip as he thought about this new development and tried to think ahead and make some plans.

“Did you kill someone John?” (Y/N) asked, worrying her lip, “Why are you wanted?”

John looked up at her and took her hand in his, “I didn’t kill anyone, I promise you that”

“Then why?”

“...I robbed a bank” John confessed

“So you really are an outlaw? Is that why you’re here, just to escape from the law?”

John hated the betrayed look on her face, “Yes but I do like you.”

“You still expect me to run away with you?”

“You want to leave here, don’t try to deny it.  You’re bored here in this town and I can give you a life worth living”

(Y/N) still looked cautious, “You’re a criminal John”

“That won’t change” John confessed, “Look, I’m leaving here tomorrow night, make your decision by then”

(Y/N) left after that and John got to planning where he would go next, he still had a while until he needed to go to the agreed place to meet with his brothers.

The next night as he was getting his horse ready, the door to the stable creaked open and John spun around and aimed his gun at whoever it was, thinking that someone recognised him but it was only (Y/N).

She had a satchel and smaller bag in her hands.

“You make your decision?” John asked, with a smirk, already knowing the answer.

(Y/N) nodded, “Let’s go”

John took her bags and watched as she readied her own horse before they both left the stable and headed towards the main road together. Just before they left the town, John turned towards (Y/N),

“You sure you’re ready?” He asked

“Absolutely, let’s get out of here” (Y/N) said as she urged her horse to walk on

John shot her a grin and followed after her.

[asgardianthot]

Hunting Season (sambucky) - Part 4

Series Masterlist

A/N: ello :) I hope you’re all safe and sound, and I hope you’re surviving quarantine. Here’s an angsty update for you to enjoy! 

Words: 3329

Day 3.

The morning had prepared for the happy couple an hour of kayaking. Bucky got his tired ass to the lake with the least amount of motivation possible, for he had spent a sore night. The idea of Brock Rumlow spending the night in that house had his bones rattling. Sam, on his part, couldn’t blame him; Brock only stayed there when the two were an item, so the fact that he was tagging along indefinitely had ‘ill intentioned’ written all over it. Bucky’s theory was that Brock probably thought he was gonna crash the lunch party and win him over again, stay the night at their old bed instead of a small guest room downstairs.

On the bright side of matters, Sam and Bucky were still the only ones to have a hunting clue. The envelope that had fallen out of the Viktor Frankl book had a hand-written note, specifically placed there by Nana. It read as following: If you found this clue, congratulations, you have a brain. Frankl was more than just a man in search for meaning: he was a neurologist and a psychiatrist, as well as a philosopher. It’s not hard to guess why my husband was obsessed with him. Now find out more about the author and try to guess what else he and Theodore had in common. You’ll know where to look.

Those words meant absolutely nothing to Sam, but it made some sense to Bucky. All they had to do was research about the author of the book and find a connection, for now. The rest would be a problem for later.

Right now, meaning at that very exact moment, Sam’s problem was kayaking.

“Okay, so what now?” he asked Bucky, holding the paddles like they were going to hurt him.

The second the word ‘kayak’ had been brought up when discussing future activities, Sam knew he would make a fool out of himself, for it was something he had never done, while the rest of the guests had been practicing every summer since they bought the damn house. Still, he put on his swimsuit and showed up. For Bucky. They were the ones closest to the lakeside, as Bucky was still teaching Sam, meanwhile the other Barnes were already paddling away or messing around in circles, as they prepared for a race.

“Now, you kayak.” Bucky replied simply, which earned a death glance from Sam.

He was already having enough trouble adjusting to the new sport, which left him with little to no patience. Fortunately, Bucky pitied him and laughed as he moved to the front seat, agreeing to help.

“Okay, wait,” he grunted as he struggled to accommodate behind Sam, “let me help you.”

Sam felt the warm pressure of Bucky’s chest against his back without any type of warning, and flinched a little. He could feel the drops of water that hadn’t dried out in Bucky’s skin stick to his own, and it sent shivers down his spine. He decided to believe the shivers were caused by the startling feeling of water droplets.

“You’re holding it wrong.” James explained as he took the paddles from Sam’s hand.

Wilson rolled his eyes, “Of course I am.”

“Someone’s cranky.” Bucky remarked, “Didn’t sleep well?”

Sam thought hard about that one. As a matter of fact, he had woken up plenty of times during the night, only to find Bucky struggling to catch his own sleep next to him. The situation was weird as it was, so Sam pretended to miss it.

“You kick your feet a lot.” Sam lied.

“There’s always the divan.” Bucky reminded him.

“Will you shut up about the damn divan? No one should sleep in anything called like that.”

However, the ridiculous discussion came to an end when Bucky managed to get Sam to paddle correctly.

“That’s about the hang of it.” he congratulated him before turning his body and dropping it into the water.

The water barely reached his chest, so he stood there in waits for Sam who accomplished his goal of successfully kayaking away.

“Now come back to me.” Bucky instructed his apprentice, “Turn.”

Watching him swirl the canoe so concentrated, Bucky couldn’t help but find him slightly adorable. Perhaps it was because he hadn’t seen Sam learn something like that before, but it definitely was a good look on him. A smile creeped up his face, however, it didn’t last long. Soon enough, his ears picked up on a conversation behind him. He saw that uncle Milo was talking to Brock, and he only then figured they probably had been the entire time, which made him feel observed and, most of all, uncomfortable. Bucky was so distracted by the interaction that he almost didn’t see Sam returning to him, but he noticed right on time to stop the tip of the kayak before it hit him.

He shook it off by shooting a smile in Nana’s direction.

“Sure you don’t wanna hop in the water, Nana?” he messed with the woman who looked over everyone from her chair.

“I want another drink, sweetheart.” She messed with him back.

Bucky winked at her and returned his attention to the fake boyfriend, who seemed a lot more comfortable with the sport. They most likely wouldn’t win the race, but at least Sam wouldn’t feel bad for sucking at it.

“You know what?” Nana’s voice was loud and clear this time, which got everyone’s attention, “First one to get me a drink gets a clue."

The bold statement was followed by hesitant glances. Most of the family exchanged weird looks, none of them sure of how to proceed.

"Is she for real?" Bucky said, frowning.

Then, cousin Colin jumped to the water from where he was paddling, and started swimming towards land. Rebecca went second. Bucky and Sam were quick to notice how they were the ones closest to the lakeside, which didn’t make it seem like Nana was unbiased. If anything, it made the couple look like the favorites. Alas, Bucky and Sam climbed onto land fast, hearing people rush across the water behind them, until they heard a scream.

As they both turned towards the noise, they saw Rebecca slapping her hand around, swallowing water, and barely managing to yell the word ‘cramp’.

Bucky dove back on the water to save her. Literally. As Sam awaited kneeling on the shore, he couldn’t help but notice nobody else went to help. As usual, Bucky was Rebecca’s knight in shining armor.

"Rebecca, are you ok?" Winnifred barely asked above her usual tone to be heard.

The siblings were too busy trying to stay afloat –Bucky dragging her to land and Rebecca coughing her lungs out– to answer, so the mother insisted.

"Rebecca?"

Luckily, Sam cut in to get the unhelpful and mediocre concern away from the scene, "She- she's fine! We got this!" he assured the woman.

Once the siblings reached the wooden shore, Sam pulled Rebecca up by her arms while Bucky climbed up, panting. The young woman held her leg in pain.

Right on time, Brock approached them to save the day.

He extended his hand towards Rebecca, "Here, let me-"

"Get the fuck away from us!" James shot him an aggressive warning while placing a hand on Rebecca's back, not dignifying the man with eye contact.

Rumlow raised his hands in defense, "Just tryna’ help, Jamie."

The snap in Bucky’s brain might as well have been hearable. He was so done with the hovering figure he used to call his partner, everything in his head went red with fury. He looked up at him with such rage, Sam anticipated his outburst even before it happened.

"Shut up, Brock, shut up!” He yelled directly at him, microscopic bits of spit being thrown in Brock’s direction, and followed by a uncomfortable, still silence, which Bucky couldn’t stand either, “Are you deaf or are you a fucking idiot? I said leave!"

Rumlow accepted the offense and shook his head, putting on a disappointed façade.

"You're insane." He informed Bucky before turning on his heels.

As the man walked back inside the house, the spectators of the show remained silent. All that could be heard was Bucky’s heavy breathing, until Rebecca spoke.

"Way to go, brother." She whispered, which was only heard by Sam and Bucky.

Bucky’s expression revealed how shocked he was at his own courage to pull off such a stunt.

"That felt so good." He admitted, drawing a big proud smile on Sam’s face.

-

The outburst that morning, no matter how fulfilling, had taken a toll on Bucky. The rest of the day, it was all he could think about, and therefore, it naturally got the paranoid spinning wheel in his brain running at full speed. Cousin Colin, after the lake scene, was the only person insensitive enough to actually go through with Nana’s demand; the man had brought his grandmother a nice summer drink from the kitchen, which the lady received with a roll of her eyes. Unfortunately, she had promised the deliverer a clue, so she reluctantly kept her word and gave him the help in private.

It didn’t necessarily worry Bucky nor Sam, because the couple still felt they were winning so far. They had found the first clue by themselves, no help needed, so the best Colin could do was keep up with them before they got the advantage again.

No, what had them both worried was this cocktail gathering after dinner, right now. It was too early for anyone to be tired enough to go to bed, but it was late enough for people to start making bad decisions. That had been Bucky’s case. Drink after drink, worry after worry, the liquor had found its way into Bucky’s system long ago. In fact, he was sitting down, resigned to his sorrow, with a glass of champaign in hand.

He was wasted, and Sam could tell. While Bucky played around with the almost emptied glass, Sam’s chest felt heavy.

"He's watching." Bucky suddenly said, his enunciation already affected by the booze.

His eyes were fixated somewhere in the room, over Sam’s shoulder. The latter didn’t need to turn around to know who he meant.

"Don't pay attention to him." He shrugged it off.

"He used to do that,” Bucky, however, acted as if Sam hadn’t even spoken, “when he didn't approve of something."

"Hey.” Sam called, demanding his attention, “Hey, look at me. I'm here with you, okay? Not him."

As much as Bucky wanted to lean into those words, embrace the support and such, he knew it wasn’t truly real. Sam was there to help him out of pity, or so he thought. He used to love imagining having a boyfriend who would take away the pain, wipe away the tears caused by Brock. He used to like that image, but sometime in the horrible long-lasting relationship, he just didn’t think it possible. Anyone loving him after Brock? Anyone putting up with that baggage, with the lurking ex-boyfriend watching them at all times?

It simply wouldn’t happen. It’s why he wasn’t there with an actual boyfriend. It’s why he had to play-pretend with Sam. In his head, there was no place for anyone to love him. Not after he’d been chewed on by Rumlow and spat out a hundred times.

"But you're not.” Bucky sad dryly, almost insulting, “Not really. I'll never get the real thing."

Sam’s brain had a hard time with that one confession. Did Bucky mean that getting his friend to play fake boo was the closest he'd ever get to a boyfriend from now on? Or as he implying a world where Sam could have become the real deal? His confusion left him almost speechless.

"And why is that?" he managed to ask with a heavy heart.

Bucky was too quick in answering Sam’s doubts, "Cause I'm messed up. 'Cause of him."

That being declared, James stood up from the table, leaving his company sitting there by himself, rudely. Sam watched him get to the bar, which consisted of a few tables set up for drink service, attended by one of Nana’s kitchen employees. It did the trick in looking fancy enough for an improvised bar, and still, Bucky managed to look fairly pathetic, leaning on the table and ordering yet another hard liquor.

For the next half hour, Sam brought himself to chat and interact with the Barnes, but mostly, he was checking up on Bucky every other minute. Fortunately so, since it allowed him to spot Rumlow as he approached the drunk figure. Wilson excused himself and headed straight for the bar, and was noticed by the man who looked, as usual, like he was up to no good.

"Samuel, we were just talking about you." Brock greeted him cynically.

"Leave him alone." Sam said, not messing around.

Bucky’s eyes were fixated on his drink, avoiding exchanging gazes with his ex, no matter how hard Brock tried to catch his attention.

"I don't think anyone should leave him alone like this." Rumlow cocked a brow, giving off the most pedantic posture yet.

As much as Sam didn’t wish to sound just as condescending as the ex-boyfriend, he needed him to back off. So he stood his ground, planting himself in front of Bucky, and raised his chin.

"Oh, goodie, that's what I'm here for." He clarified with a taunting tone.

All of a sudden, Bucky decided to stand his ground as well. Unhappy with the exchange of words about his state, he got himself in front of Sam, stumbling a bit.

"I don't- don't need anyone to look after me." He managed to croak out, frowning.

After he delivered the words, he propped himself on the table unsteadily, causing Sam to gesture catching him, but Bucky seemed to be partially alright on his own. Brock, on his part, gave him a deeply disappointed look. Suddenly, Sam understood so much; the paternalistic vibe he gave off, like you’re nothing for yourself and are in desperate need of his aid. The way Rumlow judged people could get anyone to doubt themselves. Luckily, Sam wasn’t giving in.

Brock extended his hand to the more-than-tipsy man, "Come on." He said, more a demand than an offer.

The response was even more abrupt than that morning by the lake. In sight of his hand so near him, Bucky’s paranoia crippled through his bones, provoking a different kind of outburst.

"Don't touch me, you fucking maniac!" he yelled, taking a step back.

Sam’s skin crawled. During the tense silence that followed, he felt eyes staring at them three. Brock, however, didn’t seem nearly as shocked, but instead acted like this was just typical Bucky. He did seem embarrassed, though, being the victim of the scandal for the second time that day.

"Let's go." Sam pleaded, not daring to touch Bucky in a jumpy state like that.

That was Rebecca’s cue for approaching the lot, allured by the fuzz.

"What's going on?" she demanded an explanation in a low, but harsh tone.

"Nothing.” Rumlow spoke before anyone else got the change, “He's making a scene, as usual."

Rebecca shot him a threatening glance, to which he simply rolled his eyes and abandoned the bar area. Sam took his place in order to check up on Bucky’s face, and found his eyes beginning to water. He was frozen in place, eye sockets reddened by the drunkenness and lips caught between his teeth.

"James, get it together.” Rebecca whispered, “Everyone's staring."

Although Sam was expecting more comfort from the man’s sister, whom just so happened to be scolding him for no reason, he kept his quiet this time. The two sober characters dragged Bucky’s body to the nearest chair and forced him to sit down, which only attracted more attention towards him, but that way he could remain still and far from tumbling scandals.

"Get him some coffee before he embarrasses himself even more." Rebecca told Sam, sternly.

As she kneeled sat next to her brother in order to pretend normality, Sam just gave her a look of disbelief. He didn’t think she could act so heartlessly before.

"You're a real sweetheart, you know that?" he threw her a sarcasm dagger, refusing to move.

"Believe it or not, I'm helping him.” She spat, looking around frantically in hopes no one was judging them, “Coffee, Samuel, please."

Sam took one last good look at Bucky before obeying the very persuasive sister. The drunken mess was avoiding all sorts of eye contact, and was almost pouting like a child. Wilson didn’t have much else to do but get himself to the kitchen, although reluctantly. At that moment, he hated everything; every person and light were getting under his skin, and even the sound of glasses clinking together pissed him off. Right before he reached the kitchen, the sound turned muffled, abandoned far away, and there was a sense of peace. Silence. And breaking through that silence, there was a sharp voice.

“I’m telling you, this is our chance.” The voice echoed from inside the kitchen.

It was unmistakably Rumlow’s. Of fucking course. The man was a goddamn ghost lurking around every room of the massive house. Sam was determined on turning back, until he heard another voice responding.

“Give me a few days-“

“I don’t have days to give you.”

It sounded like an altercation that had just recently began, right before it could get too heated.

“Is your lawyer not your personal bitch this time?” the other man accused Brock, “You not screwing him, too?”

“You want the money, right?”

The inciting question was followed by a tense pause. Therefore, Sam seized his chance and walked into the kitchen, hopefully being able to pretend he hadn’t heard any of it. He recognized the other man as uncle Milo, when the two angry men straightened themselves too quickly, in an attempt to dismiss their previous altercation.

Sam gave them an uninterested glance, “Am I interrupting?” he asked nonchalantly.

“What can we do for you, Samuel?” uncle Milo raised his voice with false friendliness.

“I’m just gonna make some coffee.” He replied, waltzing towards the busier side of the kitchen, further away from them.

Before he could even get a hold of the coffee maker, Rumlow’s forceful interruption made Sam stop in his tracks.

“Nicole can take care of that for you, right darling?” he called for the maid in a patronizing tone, “She’ll even pour it for you and everything.”

Sam glanced at the woman who was still putting the dishes away when it definitely was the end of her shift. It wasn’t just about Rumlow’s treatment of the staff, it was everything, from the way he put Sam in an uncomfortable situation, to the smirk on his face while doing so.

“No thank you, I got it.” Sam told the working lady.

“Actually, she’s got it,” Brock insisted, this time much more taunting, “that’s her job.”

Sam found himself cornered, and resigned, although not without showing his discontent. He pinched the bridge of his nose and agreed tiredly.

“Fine, uh… Can you just take it up to James’ room when you get the chance?” He forced a smile in Nicole’s direction, whom nodded politely, “Thank you.”

When he was leaving to return to Bucky, Sam took a turn on his heels at the last minute. His blood still boiling, he gave the two plotting men a small but clearly exaggerated reverence.

“Goodnight, Mr. Barnes.” He let uncle Milo know his anger wasn’t directed towards him, then spoke directly to Rumlow, “Fuck you, Brock.”

“Classy.” The appellee complained.

“You’re right.” He lied, then turned to the maid one more time, “Nicole, my apologies for such rudeness. On behalf of Mr. Rumlow, of course. I guess money can’t buy decency.”

After addressing that last insult to the obnoxious man, Wilson headed back to the cocktail gathering in order to retrieve his drunk friend.