#s fucking open for wilson time and again and wilson is the exception to the rules time and again its. so fucked up

[superhell]

house md is wild because house tells wilson that he’ll sacrifice many things but never himself and then he sacrifices himself for wilson. and then he sacrifices himself for wilson. and then he sacrifices himself for wilson. and then he

[puppypeter]

✨ All fics are complete! ✨

He Loves Me Cause I’m Cute, He Thinks I’m Pretty Funny | 2588 words 📱

He watches it back one more time after it posts, checking for typos in his subtitles and captions, and has to laugh again.

Steve fucking Rogers? His brain thought he could pull Captain America, literal superhero and America’s favorite sweetheart?

“Hello I’m a 35 year old amputee living in New York and I think that I could get Steve Rogers.”

OR

the one where bucky posts a tiktok and steve is utterly smitten.

Summer Slipped Us Underneath Her Tongue | 10712 words 🧳

Bucky is a tour guide who enjoys sharing the rich history and culture of each city they pass through with a bunch of early-20's college students who just want to know the cheapest place to get drunk.

Except for Steve, who asks Bucky for a personal tour around his hometown.

The rest is, as they say, history.

You Make My Heart Skip A Beet | 3853 words 🧑🏼‍🍳

“I made soda bread.” Steve lets out the 6’2” supersoldier equivalent of a squeak. “Oh, I love soda bread,” he says eagerly, rolling forward on the balls of his feet like he does when he gets excited. “My mom used to make it all the time when I was growing up.” The tips of Barnes’s ears turn red, and he mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, “I know.”

Ollie Meets Bagel | 5517 words 🥯

He was a skater boy, Steve said let's get bagels, boy.

Steve wants to start doing this twenty-first century thing properly. He gets help in the form of skateboarding, skateboarders, bagels, and Sam Wilson.

Taxi | 5113 words 🚕

Bucky Barnes was, he hoped, a good taxi driver.

He's so good, he actually tries to return lost property that ends up left in his car and... well. It has some unexpected consequences involving a National Icon.

Enough said.

Leg Day | 12157 words 🏋️‍♂️

“So talk to him,” Sam says.

“I can’t,” Bucky groans. “I can’t, Sam, I. He just.” He fluffs his hair up and stares at Sam, distraught. “I want him to bench press me.”

“Okay, so it’s serious,” Sam interprets. “Got it."

(Or: The one where Sam is Bucky's long-suffering roommate, Bucky is a hot mess of a millennial, and Hot Steve spends far too much time on the Lat Pull-Down machine.)

Love In Aisle Four | 2127 words 🛍️

When Bucky needs to swing by the supermarket after a long, hard day of work, the last thing he expects is to meet a cute grocery clerk named Steve…

Coming Up Easy | 45515 words ✍🏻

“Listen, I was just thinking,” Steve says, his face open, eyebrows raised in a tentatively hopeful expression. “Why don’t you come stay at my place for a while? I’ve got an office that I barely use, and a change of scenery might do you good, right? Help you beat that writer’s block?” With a crooked smile, he adds, “I promise I’m not a serial killer.”

While Bucky would normally crack a joke about how that’s exactly what a serial killer would say, right now, all he can do is blink at Steve in surprise, heart tripping over itself in his chest. Steve wants him to come and stay at his place. In Massachusetts. Just the two of them.

"Oh," Bucky croaks. "I- Wow."

“I mean, no pressure,” Steve says hastily. “Totally fine if you don’t wanna. I just thought I’d offer, in case it might help, y’know?”

“Yeah.” Bucky ignores the little voice in his head that sounds an awful lot Nat and Becca, telling him he’s setting himself up for heartbreak. “I mean, if you’re sure, that would be amazing.”

Anywhere The Wind Blows | 8845 words 👨‍🚒🎖️

After a catastrophic fire that shakes him to his core, Steve Rogers quits his job as a Brooklyn firefighter and relocates to a cabin in the remote Canadian wilderness, wanting quiet and solitude and to maybe never have to speak to another human being ever again. He gets his wish, more or less, until a recently injured Bucky Barnes is discharged from the Army and rents the cabin next door.

The Safer Course | 7918 words | Part 1 of Won’t You Be My Neighbor 🏡

When Steve moves to the suburbs in 2033, he intends to retire from superhero life.

He does not intend to fall in love with his pain-in-the-ass neighbor.

Every Year I Have You | 7064 words | Part 2 of Won’t You Be My Neighbor 🏡

Steve set the bar pretty high, as birthday presents go.

Bucky is determined to outdo him when July 4th comes around.

Beneath The Mistletoe | 21203 words 🎄

Bucky had a bet with his sister that if he didn’t have a boyfriend to bring home for Christmas by the time he was 25, he had to give her $200 and go blonde for a year. But now he's 25, it’s nearing December, and not only is Bucky as single as ever, but he’s also running low on cash. He doesn’t exactly want to bleach his hair, either.

At least Steve is willing to upgrade their relationship from best friends to fake boyfriends.

The Settler | 52203 words 🍞

“What do you want to do?”

Steve pauses and looks at them.

What he wants is to stay with them. He doesn't have any family left, they all died before he even joined the war and became... this. Captain America turned whatever he is now. But Natasha and Sam have become his family over the years. Not just because they're on the run together, fugitives and vigilantes, but way before that too.

He doesn't want to leave that.

But he knows that, realistically, he can't stay with them and they can't stay with him.

So he looks at them with a smile and lies. “I don't know.”

OR; In which Steve retires and finally finds a place to call home.

You Can’t Put Your Arms Around A Memory | 1148 words 🐈

"Alright, Bucky," Steve slows his steps, watches his neighbour stop at the bottom of the next flight of stairs. There's a canvas bag in his hand that Steve didn't notice earlier, cream coloured with the figure of a sleeping, black cat painted on it. "Have a good day."

He thinks Bucky's cheeks pink up a bit right then and there, but Steve can't tell. He's too distracted by his pounding, foolish heart, by the way Bucky smiles bashfully, and ducks his head. The way he seems like he wants to stay.

To Believe In Tomorrow | 3959 words 👨🏻‍🌾

Bucky's mornings at the community garden get a little more interesting when the new guy shows up.

Maybe This Christmas | 24873 words | Part 1 of Maybe ❄️

Bucky’s not going home for Christmas. But it’s fine. He’s spending Christmas alone in his apartment, but it’s cool. He’s not feeling up to seeing his family after his accident anyway, plus he has to work. He’s totally fine with it. But then he runs into Steve, literally, and suddenly his Christmas isn’t looking so empty after all.

-----

Hurrying was a bad idea. Bucky’s foot hits a patch of ice and slides out from under him in what would have been a comical cartoon banana-peel-like trip, if it wasn’t happening to him, and he braces himself to hit the ground. This is going to hurt.

“Fuck,” Bucky screeches, but as he lands on his back, it’s not the cold hard concrete he expected, but a solid mass beneath him. Oh god, Bucky thinks as he realises he smacked into the person behind him and took them down with him.

Maybe This Year (Will Be Better Than Last) | 133868 words | Part 2 of Maybe ❄️

Last year, Bucky Barnes met Steve Rogers. Well actually, he slipped and fell on him. What followed was the best Christmas either of them had ever had. But what happens when Christmas is over and life returns to normal? What happens after the Christmas miracle?

-----

Bucky should have known. He did know. When things seem too good to be true, they usually are. And Steve is the best thing that has happened to him in a long time, possibly ever, so of course it couldn’t last.

Maybe This Time (I Hope I Get The Chance To Say Goodbye) | 34561 words | Part 3 of Maybe ❄️

Steve and Bucky Barnes are happily married. They've made it through some hard times and come out stronger and happier, together. Then Steve gets called on to come out of retirement for the most important mission of his life and everything changes. Everything.

-----

“Have yourself a merry little Christmas…” Steve starts singing along softly, and Bucky chuckles, before leaning his head onto Steve’s shoulder, always happy when he’s in Steve’s arms.

“From now on, our troubles will be miles away…” Bucky joins in.

Dancing round their living room, just as in love as ever, their troubles seem light-years away, if not non-existent.

Sadly, they’re closer than they think.

The Unexpected Gift | 9504 words | Part 1 of When Winter Comes 🐕

Steve Rogers is fine.

After ending a long-term relationship with Sam Wilson, Steve moves back to New York. He's tired and lonely but depressed? No. At least, that's what he thinks.

From the window of his apartment, he watches a dark-haired man and his service dog sitting in the park, wondering what his story is.

The Winter Storm | 2218 words | Part 2 of When Winter Comes 🐕

"If I could give you one thing in life, I would give you the ability you see yourself through my eyes, only then would you realize how special you are to me."

After Bucky and Steve confessed their feelings for each other, life has its own twisted way to challenge the most profound love.

One January Night | 4213 words | Part 3 of When Winter Comes 🐕

Before going back to work, Steve Rogers still has things to learn: 1- Depression is a bitch and the battle against it isn't an easy one. 2- Dating a person with disabilities comes with its share of challenges.

Bucky Barnes Has His Shit Together (And Other Lies He Tells Himself) | 14159 words 🔒

You’d think a guy who owns one of the most successful bakeries in Brooklyn, has a million-dollar smile and that antiquated good ol’ boy charm, blond hair and blue eyes and biceps for days, would know what’s what.

But don’t let that fool you: Steve Rogers is a mess.

Obvious | 917 words ☕

"Oh, I have a prompt! So, it makes me laugh how painfully obvious Steve and Bucky's feelings are to everyone when they're in that pining, slowburn, does-he-doesn't-he phase. But imagine Steve and Bucky working in a coffee shop together and constantly bickering, nudging and playfully flirting with each other. And all the employees and patrons are so invested in their relationship and just want them to kiss already but no one realizes that Steve and Bucky have been married since they got out of HS."

[siancore]

SamBucky x Female Reader Smut

A/N: 18+ Heed the content warnings. You are responsible for the content you consume, act accordingly. Enjoy!

Rating: Explicit 

Summary: Reader is working an undercover case with Barnes and Wilson at a nightclub. When the mission turns out to be a waste of time, Sam and Bucky find a way to ensure the whole evening isn’t wasted. 

Words: 1,676

Content: Bisexual Threesome MMF; MM Anal Sex; Vaginal Sex; MMF Oral Sex; Masturbation; D/s Undertones; Unprotected Sex; Dirty Talk.

The music is too loud, and the lights are too bright. You haven’t been inside a club for so long since taking up this line of work. Haven’t had time to. The only reason you are here presently is because of the mission. Now, as the beat thrums through your chest, you can’t tell if your quickening heart rate is because of the persistent drumming or because your body is pressed flush against Sam Wilson’s.

The undercover mission is a bust. The intel was wrong. Wilson had said, “Fuck it. Might as well hang about and have some fun.”

So, without much protest from yourself or Barnes, the three of you stay at the club to get drunk and sweaty out on the dancefloor.

Barnes went to get more drinks, you suppose. You don’t even care about the drinks anymore as Sam cups your ass and pushes his hips forward.

Fuck. You can feel how hard he is. This is entirely unprofessional and most likely a terribly reckless idea, but when he pulls you closer and his stiff cock presses against your mound, you could not care less.

Soon, Barnes returns emptyhanded. If he had drinks, he has chosen to put them down as he comes up behind you. You feel his firm chest at your back as his strong arm, the Vibranium one, snakes up around your body, in between Sam’s, and rests on your breast. You don’t stop him. Too overwhelmed with having both of them envelope you. Their heady scent and searing heat causing you to feel more intoxicated than the drinks ever could.

Wilson gets a devilish look in his eyes as he stares past you at Barnes. Soon, they bring their mouths together in a messy, heated kiss as the three of you continue to move to the overpowering music. You clutch Wilson’s lapel as he sucks on Barnes’ lips and tongue. You feel Bucky’s dick set hard against your ass. He grinds into you as he devours Sam’s eager mouth. When they break apart, still pressed against you, you feel your arousal soak your panties. Then, to bring you to the brink of melting, Bucky presses a biting kiss to your shoulder as Sam captures your lips with his own.

The ride back to the safehouse is a blur. You sit at Wilson’s left, while he is in the middle of the backseat, licking into your mouth while he rubs Barnes’ erection through his pants. You place a slightly tentative hand to Sam’s thigh. It’s thick and firm, just like you knew it would be; he moans into your mouth as you bring your hand to his stiffness while Barnes watches you both.

Everything about Sam Wilson is gorgeous, his cock is no exception. You sit back on the bed in the safehouse and watch as Barnes kisses Wilson’s neck from behind while stroking his impressive length. Bucky’s pale hand moves over Sam’s dark skin and draws delicious moans from him.

Barnes looks at you with his steely eyes and says, “He’s pretty, ain’t he?”

“Yes,” you reply, enraptured by the sight of them together.

“So are you,” Barnes says, before kissing Sam’s shoulder and adding, “Go ahead, sweetheart; touch yourself.”

You need no further encouragement as you hike up the hem of your dress and slip your hand into your sodden underwear.

Your pussy is throbbing. Your fingers are drenched. You run them over your aching little clit as you watch Bucky stroke Sam’s big, hard dick. They’re both watching you.

“Let us see,” Sam manages; his voice an octave deeper with lust, vibrating through your core.

You do as you’re told and part your legs, almost shyly until Barnes offers encouragement.

“Yeah, honey,” he all but whispers. “You’re real pretty. Why don’t you take those damn panties off and show us how pretty you can be?”

You feel your face flush warm at his words, even though the rest of your skin feels like it’s alight.

You pull your panties aside, exposing your glistening folds. You dip your finger between your swollen lips and let out a little whimper. It’s all too much, having the pair of them, naked and sweating, touching one another as you touch yourself. Sam is biting his lip and Bucky’s biting Sam’s neck; you slip a finger inside.

“Looks nice,” says Barnes as he continues to strum Wilson. “Does it feel nice?”

“Yeah,” you breathe as you slip another finger inside your aching, dripping pussy.

“Wet?”

“Mmmm.”

“Good,” Barnes says, as he pushes Wilson forward until the younger man is kneeling on the bed. “Now, get those panties all the way off and let Sammy have a taste.”

Wilson has a smart mouth. Everyone says so. But he also knows how to use it. He laps his expert tongue over your pussy, humming as he goes. He uses his thumb to add pressure to your sensitive nub while sucking and kissing every inch of your engorged sex. One of your hands grips the covers of the bed, the other holds his head in place.

“Oh, fuck,” you whimper as he adds a finger and moves it in a come-hither motion, rubbing at your spot.

You hear Barnes let out a small, approving laugh, before he knees behind Sam, spreads his ass cheeks, and runs his tongue over Sam’s puckered little hole. The sound of Bucky giving two swift smacks to Sam’s ass is almost drowned out by the sound of your own voice moaning shamelessly as Wilson sucks your clit just right and you cum in his mouth.

You don’t have time to relish in your release because almost immediately, Sam shifts and is straddling your waist just as Barnes grabs your ankles and pulls you down the bed, closer to him and his impossibly long, thick cock.

Wilson positions himself so that he is kneeling close to your face. He pushes his dick down nearer to your salivating mouth, and you instinctively slip your tongue out. You roll it over the head of his dick, tasting the precum that is oozing from his smooth tip. He rubs it over your lips before pushing it inside. You take him into your warmth. All of him in his thick, veiny glory. You place your hands to his thighs and hollow out your cheeks while applying more pressure with your tongue and lips. You then relax your gullet, breathe through your nose, and let Sam Wilson face-fuck you.

Wilson isn’t the only one of the pair who gets his dick wet, either. Soon, you feel Barnes lift your lower half up off the bed, rub his tip over your gushing slit, and then inch his big, red cock inside of you.

“Fuck,” he says, as he begins to thrust and speaks directly to Wilson, “Baby. You got her snatch all nice and wet for me.”

And then, to you, “Pretty Girl, you feel so good. Keep suckin’ my Sammy’s dick and I’ll fuck you good and proper.”

Your throat is almost wrecked by the time Barnes taps Wilson on the shoulder and they each take their dicks out from both pairs of your swollen, well-fucked lips. Sam shifts once more and then you have a moment of respite as the two men share a messy kiss. Soon, Wilson is sinking to his knees and taking Bucky’s dick into his mouth. Curses fall from Bucky’s lips as Sam works over his shaft with his hand and mouth. You feel your pussy throbbing again just from watching them.

“Baby,” Bucky breathes, as his eyes roll shut. “Fuck, you’re gonna have to stop that or I’ll blow my load right now.”

Wilson stops what he is doing before licking a strip up the underside of Barnes’ cock. He stares up at Bucky and asks, “What d’you want, Big Guy?”

They both turn their eyes to you as Barnes licks his lips and says, “I wanna fuck your tight little ass while you fuck her sweet little cunt.”

Barnes holds your legs apart and fucks Wilson’s hole from behind as Wilson impales you. Bucky thrusts into Sam, and Sam thrusts into you. Their grunts almost drown out your moans. You’ve seen the pair of them in action in the field; they move like a unit, always aware of what the other is doing; always in sync. Now is no different, as Sam’s rigid length fills you up and Bucky’s fills him.

When Barnes leans forward, so does Wilson, and you can feel both of their weight between your thighs. Sam kisses your mouth while Bucky kisses between his shoulder blades as you all chase your release.

Sam holds you in place with one hand, and uses the other to thumb your clit as he thrusts in and out, over and over again. You can see he is almost ready to come. The pressure of fucking and being fucked at the same time would be enough for anyone, but it looks so good on Wilson as his mouth falls open and his breathing quickens, matching your own.

You feel the heat pool in your stomach as he draws you closer to the apex of your pleasure. Bucky thrusts into Sam harder and harder, and he fucks into you with more fervor. Soon, your walls are clenching and you are creaming all over Sam’s gorgeous cock just before pulls out and cums over your stomach. Barnes wastes no time in lifting Wilson with his Vibranium arm and fucking up into him until he cums inside of Sam with a low, almost animalistic grunt. He holds Sam in place as the younger man’s cum keeps spurting out in thick ribbons of white that land on your trembling thighs.

After a long shower, you step out of the bathroom to find Wilson lying on the bed with his head in a sleeping Barnes’ lap and a device in his hand.

“Hey,” he says to you, wearing his bright, playful smile. “You wanna write up the mission report, or should I?”

Tags: @buckybarnesplumwhore​ @ladymazzy​ @littlekidsteve​ @not-on-this-day​ @1in5lichens​

[ladymelisande]

I don't wanna seem like I'm generalizing all slash shippers because not all of them are like this, but I'm really tired of the entitlement and holier than thou attitude a lot of slash shippers have, as well as the thinly veiled misogyny (and biphobia) a lot of them perpetuate. They seem to think mm ships are end all be all rep for good queer rep and that its better and more superior than other ships because it's gay and doesn't involve gross, icky women. I understand wanting more gay rep that's valid, but a lot of them can't seem to do push for it without throwing women and bisexuality under the bus. It's one reason why I want nothing to so with most popular slash pairings or fandoms

I can generalice them because I have lived through their fucking bullshit in every fandom I have been except Doctor Who. And they are always the same, always reading romantic subtext where there isn't any while at the same time denying actual romantic text because it goes against their imaginary ships. And then after that they self victimise themselves and cry victim all while being the most biphobic and misogynist as they can be.

They literally just invent shit, they don't interpret, all that shit about Mobius being 'jealous' of Syvie? That literally never happens. Mobius was being self-righteous, not jealous, because he appointed himself as the one that would 'redeem' Loki to the correct side and he felt betrayed that Loki didn't give a fuck and left anyway. Just jealously doesn't make someone go around and put someone in a torture chamber. Then when he lied to Loki about Sylvie being dead, it was a manipulation to get him talk, where the fuck is the jealously there? It's just one dude messing with his prisoner because he can read the emotional clues.

Also the relationship even opens with Mobius saying he might felt sorry for Loki when he was abandoned as a baby. Yeah, that's totally a step for romantic subtext/s.

Not mentioning that I don't think that Owen Wilson is a bad actor and if he wanted to portray jealously he would have done it. Again, they are reading what they want in basically nothing.

[florrickandassociates]

TGF Thoughts: 5x01- Previously on...

Welcome back!! I’m so excited to be writing one of these again. I think this hiatus has been the longest I’ve gone without new Diane Lockhart content in ten years, and it sure feels like it. A lot of important stuff has happened in the time since TGF season four ended (not concluded—ended). Most notably, CBS All Access became Paramount+ and suddenly started offering a lot of content I care about! I kid. 2020 was quite an eventful year, so I was curious how television’s most topical show was going to take it on. TGF is always forward-looking, but too much happened in 2020 to be ignored. And while I didn’t think TGF would have much to say about the pandemic, it seemed impossible to imagine a season five that pretended it never happened. Going into this premiere, I was expecting that they’d either skip COVID entirely or include very few references, but after seeing this episode, I feel like the writers took the only approach that made sense. And that is why they are the writers, and I'm just some girl on the internet who writes recaps.  

Anyway, before I dive into the episode, I should also note that my pandemic boredom spurred me to actually pay $30 to watch this episode early as part of the virtual ATX Festival. Yes, I paid $30 on top of the money I spend every month on Paramount+ for this show. But I write tens of thousands of words about each TGF episode—are my priorities really that surprising? I note this not to brag or even to poke fun at myself, but because watching the episode before I knew a single thing about it (not even the title!) completely changed my viewing experience. I’ve never had an experience like this with TGW or TGF. I’m one to search for critics tweeting cryptically about screeners and refresh sites looking for background extras (haven’t done this in the TGF era, though) and read every single piece of press I can find. For any big episode, I usually know the outline of what to expect going in (I even knew about Will before the episode aired in the US!). Not this one! So, I got to be surprised, and I had to—gasp—formulate my own opinions before I knew what anyone else thought! It was really pleasant, actually. I think the structure of the episode worked extremely well for me because it caught me by surprise... and also because I’m the kind of person who somehow managed to write a college paper about Previously On sequences.

I see Tumblr has made it so that “keep reading” expands the post in your dash instead of opening a new tab. I absolutely hate this. Here is a link to the post you can click instead of the keep reading button! 

The ATX stream started mid-sentence, meaning I missed the “Previously On... 2020...” title card and skipped right to Adrian saying “I’m retiring.” It was pretty easy to pick up on the device (the directness of the scenes at the start, their cadence, and their placement in the episode made it clear this was meant to mimic a Previously) but the second title card hit way harder because... well, I had no idea if this was meant to be 2020 or some moment outside of real time until a bit later in the episode.  

Man, before I get any farther into this, two things that I don’t know where else to put. First, this episode had to cover so much ground. They had to write out both Adrian and Lucca—more on that later--, figure out how to deal with all of 2020, figure out how to either wrap up or continue all the truncated season 4 plotlines, and set the stage for a new season... in 50 minutes.  

Second, just wanna shout out the Kings’ other Paramout+ show, Evil, which you should absolutely be watching even if you hate horror. Evil is a Kings show, so it is unsurprisingly topical (sometimes evil takes the form of racism or misogyny or Scott Rudin) and at times very, very funny. I would be recapping it if Paramount+ weren’t attacking me personally by airing it at the same time as TGF. Ever hear of too much of a good thing, people?! (On that note, I am VERY upset with myself for not having made a Good vs Evil joke about the Good shows and Evil. I didn’t even think about it until Robert King made the joke on Twitter, and it was right fucking there. How did I fail so miserably?!)  

So STR Laurie, who wants a 20% downsizing, is still a thing. Noted.

This scene with Landau is the only one in this previously that is actually old footage, right?  

Unexpected Margo Martindale! Yay! (Ruth Eastman is a character who is so much more effective on Fight than she was on Wife and I’m quite glad they’ve had her appear on Fight several times. It kind of redeems season seven. Kind of.)

I don’t think the writers intentionally chose for Adrian’s book deal to be with Simon & Schuster because it is the most politically fraught publisher (the number of stories about controversial memoirs they’ve picked up in 2021 alone...) but I kind of like that Adrian’s Road Not Taken involves S&S. My guess is they chose S&S because it is owned by ViacomCBS.  

“Years ago, I wanted to create a law firm run entirely by women, but it never worked out. So, why not now?” Diane says to Liz. One of the advantages of having twelve (!!!) seasons of Diane Lockhart is that we’ve seen what she’s talking about. And we’ve seen her put this idea forward multiple times, too. I have my reservations about Diane’s brand of feminism, and I’ll say more about how fraught a Diane/Liz firm would be as the show explores the potential issues there, but on the surface I’m kind of excited about the prospect of a Diane/Liz led firm. Diane has wanted this for ages, Liz is a good partner, and this actually makes sense (unlike the nonsensical Diane/Alicia alliance of late season seven, where the only rationale was “well, Alicia needs to betray Diane in the finale, but they’re not on good terms. So maybe we make them business partners so then the betrayal stings more?”). Plus I fully love that Diane would end up running a firm with Alicia’s law school rival.

(Has TGF mentioned that Liz and Alicia were law school rivals? No. Am I still clinging on to that as a large part of Liz’s character? ABSOLUTELY.)

Julius is on trial for Memo 618 reasons; Diane is defending him. So this is still happening. (There’s more old footage here.)  

Do they put these references to one/two party consent in these episodes as a wink at the fans? It has to be intentional. (Please do not ask me what the actual law is on this, this show has thoroughly confused me.)  

I knew Cush was filming stuff for TGF, but I didn’t know it was for the premiere. She was just posting about it a few weeks ago, so either they shot a lot of it right before air or she posted a while after filming. Anyway, yay Lucca!  

Bianca’s still around. And, TGF gets to shoot New York for New York, since Bianca is there. I do wish TGF could do more location shoots; there’s something about seeing an actual skyline that feels more real.  

Bianca wants Lucca, who has never been outside of the country (except to St. Lucia, as Bianca reminds her) to go to London and buy her a resort. It’s supposed to be a three week stay and Bianca’s already arranged childcare. Speaking of children, because of COVID and filming constraints, that’s Cush’s real kid in this scene! You can’t really see him, but I recognized his curly hair from Cush’s Instagram, and the Kings confirmed in an interview.  

Adrian wants to write a book about police brutality cases he’s worked on. Ruth very much does not want him to write that book. She wants him to write a book without substance about how white people and black people can work together. He, understandably, has no interest in writing this book. (Also, you can see in the background that Ruth doesn’t think Biden’s odds of winning the Democratic primary are good—there is a big down arrow next to his picture, which definitely dates this scene.)

Oh, David Lee is in this episode. He acts like an asshole towards Marissa when she’s trying to help him.  

Marissa, not happy with the lack of respect, calls Lucca for advice “for a friend.” Lucca mentions she’s in London and Marissa does not believe her and keeps going on and on about her frustrations and her new desire to become a lawyer—quickly.  

Marissa wanting to become a lawyer because she “hates being talked down to” is not a plot I would’ve expected but it’s also one that makes a lot of sense. I think Marissa’s used to being respected and praised even when she’s doing things that aren’t glamorous, so I see how she’d get very restless when she’s no longer outperforming expectations and is instead taken for granted.  

Bells toll in the background on Lucca’s side and Marissa asks where she is. Lucca again notes she’s in London and Marissa still doesn’t believe her.

I’m going to miss Lucca so much, especially since we’ll also be losing a lot of the Millennial Friendship scenes with her. Cush is fantastic (even if she never really got enough to do here) and she plays so well off of the rest of the cast. I even sometimes liked the writing for Maia (who?) when she had scenes with Lucca, Lucca is that good.  

Jay wakes up sweating and unable to breathe, so he deliriously calls his father-figure Adrian. This whole scene is shot like something out of Evil and (I’m getting ahead of myself here) this plot is the only thing about this episode I felt was a misstep.  

“I think you’re my father,” Jay says to Adrian. Heh, I didn’t catch this line the first time around (maybe subliminally I did, since I just called Adrian his father figure lol) but I love that it is included here. Adrian and Jay’s relationship definitely deserves a goodbye.

Adrian calls an ambulance and also gets to Jay before the ambulance somehow. Adrian notes that Jay might have “this thing from China” and... we’re doing the pandemic, y’all. (Minor nitpick: on March 13th, 2020, when this scene is dated, COVID was not “this thing from China”-- we were all aware of it. March 11th was the day Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson announced they’d tested positive and the NBA shut down and travel was restricted and every single brand that had my email sent me a message about their plans and measures. March 12th was the last time I was in my office, and we’d been getting emails telling us to wash our hands and prepare to work remotely for weeks. I went to San Francisco in mid-late February and distinctly remember deciding to leave a burrito unattended on a table while I washed my hands because I was paranoid about COVID... and then I remember making a specific trip to Walgreens to buy hand sanitizer so that didn’t happen again. My point is, Adrian lives in the same world I do. On March 13th 2020, he would not be treating COVID like it was some new thing he’d vaguely heard of.)  

(I am going to nitpick this timeline, but please know that I’m only doing it because I can, not because I think it’s necessarily a bad choice. Lines like this do feel a little forced, but I see the reason for introducing COVID as something new rather than going for the line that’s exactly historically accurate. I also am pretty sure there are references to dates in March/April in s4 of TGF that are now going to be contradicted by this episode, but I truly do not care. The writers get a pass on this one.)  

We skip slightly back in time to the beginning of March after the MARCH 13TH title card, or maybe this is supposed to be after March 13th and my own memories are preventing me from believing these face-to-face interactions were happening. Who knows.

Michael Bloomberg is... here, again, I guess? He asks Diane to assist with a Supreme Court case about gun control. I guess it does add some weight to the plot and make the stakes feel higher.  

Oh hey, this case is the 7x17 case!!!! Love that continuity.  

Diane and Adrian are both at the office late, working, and there is an unnecessary split screen that feels even more unnecessary when you consider that the editing alone was enough to create the parallel.  

Diane and Adrian have a nice convo (which I’ll really miss, their dynamic is great and this really feels like a successful partnership) as they wait for the elevator. When the elevator dings, they nearly tumble down into nothingness because... the elevator never came. Apparently this is a reference to an law old show I’ve never seen that killed off a character this way, and it’s meant to be a wink at how they are not going to kill off Adrian.

I do not know why I remember this, but I do: after they killed off Will, a critic (Noel Murray; I just googled to confirm my memory) who didn’t want to spoil things tweeted, “Exactly 23 years and 2 days ago, Rosalind Shays fell down an elevator shaft.” Please tell me why I remember this reference that I didn’t even understand well enough to have tracked down the original tweet in under a minute. (https://twitter.com/NoelMu/status/447942456827326464)  

Back on this show, Diane and Adrian share a drink and talk about their wishes. Diane wants to argue in front of the Supreme Court, and Adrian encourages her to speak up. His own near-death experience motivates him to trash the book Ruth has him writing, and Diane trashes the (bad) legal strategy someone else prepared for the Supreme Court.

DIANE IS WEARING JEANS!!!!!! Tbh, I think my favorite part of this episode is how many slice-of-life scenes and settings we get. These are always my favorite moments. I love the satirical and political stuff too, but the character moments are what get me invested enough to write these. (Yes, Diane in jeans constitutes a character moment.)  

Diane tells Bloomberg she wants to be involved and advocates for herself. Kurt gets a call on their landline (hahaha) from Adrian.

God, I love Diane and Kurt. Not only is their banter fun, you can just see a different, more relaxed side of Diane in these scenes. Diane tells Kurt she has good news for herself, but bad news for him since she’s arguing for gun control. She asks him to help her prep for court, too.  

So this is before Jay is rushed to the hospital, because now we are back at the hospital with Julius, Diane, and Marissa. I do not believe any of these people would be setting foot in a hospital like it’s any other day on March 13th, 2020. But I'm trying not to nitpick.

I get why they chose to give Jay a rather severe case of COVID. I just don’t get literally anything else that follows from the initial shock of Jay having COVID.  

I see why the writers chose March 20th (the actual Illinois stay at home order) as the next date for this timeline. I still do not believe that people were in this particular office on that date.  

You know what else I don’t believe? That RBL just shut down for two weeks and was like, no work is being done. Did law firms really do this? I can believe it if it’s an excuse to cost-cut, and I know there were massive layoffs, but this seems... really weird???  

Why are they setting up a teleconferencing infrastructure (didn’t they have one at LG? In season five?) if they are not planning to do work?  

Lol Diane explains what Zoom is, very slowly. She asks everyone to “download a program called Zoom.com” which is one of the first Zoom jokes I’ve chuckled at in a while.  

Marissa is not happy to hear that there’s no work for her in a work-remote world (this I believe 100%), so she calls Lucca again with more questions about law school.

Love these NYC and London location shots. Wish they could do that for Chicago.

Lucca asks Bianca to help get Marissa into a law school, fast, and Bianca tells Lucca to use her name... then offers her a job.

Marissa is at the office, alone, boxing up her things, when one of the office phones rings with some dude offering her a spot in a law school class. I guess we are really all-in on this! (Why would Lucca have given a firm phone number not specific to Marissa, though?)

Adrian and his corrupt girlfriend decide to shelter in place together. I still do not understand why he is okay with her being corrupt. I also don’t really understand why they’re going from talking about sheltering-in-place to George Floyd. How did we just skip from late March to late May? Are Adrian and corrupt gf having a conversation about sheltering-in-place two months into sheltering in place?  

Okay, I am not doing so good at this no-nitpicking thing. Again, I understand why they need to merge several scenes into one to keep things moving. And I guess they could just be getting around to this conversation.

I’m going to nitpick again, I can’t help myself. How did we just go from a scene of Adrian specifically talking about sheltering in place to a scene of Adrian bursting into a bustling and maskless DNC headquarters room? How!? The only masks in this scene are on TV!! There are like ten people in this scene!  

Anyway, more importantly, Adrian tells Ruth off and screams at her that she needs to listen to him instead of acting like she knows the way forward. He is completely right.  

Why is travel from London closing down in May 2020? Is it because this scene is supposed to be at a different place in the episode? Liz is asking Lucca to come back home from her three week stay in London (which has now lasted three months but travel is just now closing down), and Lucca’s hesitant to come home.

This is all happening via Zoom, btw. Lucca’s in her hotel, Diane and Adrian are at their respective homes, and Liz is in the office. All of this feels right. There is a chat off to the side of the screen where you can see Adrian and the others discussing how to unmute on Zoom. Very real. Though probably not very real in late May 2020. Feels more like April. I am convinced this scene got spliced in later to help the episode flow because everything in this scene (except the TV footage that definitely was added later) feels like it should be happening in the March section.  

Lucca mentions that Bianca offered her a job, and at this point we as viewers know how things are going to go—Lucca's going to end up taking it. Liz types in the Zoom chat that they don’t want to lose Lucca. When Lucca tells them how much Bianca’s offering ($500k/year, go Lucca!), Diane types “Shit.” into the chat. “Shit’s right,” Liz replies. “Yes... What should our counter be?” Diane replies. Lucca is kind enough to point out the messages are not private (again, this feels like March not May) but I think knowing that their reaction to topping $500k is “shit” tells her all she needs to know.  

Diane’s background still says that RBL is a division of STR Laurie. Weird how little we are hearing about the overlords except the 20% staff cut.  

Liz and Adrian chat and decide the only way to keep Lucca is to make her a partner. Which, yeah, if you’d just made her a partner years ago when you told her she was in the running for partner and then offered it to fucking MAIA, maybe she wouldn’t be considering Bianca’s offer. Lucca is definitely one of RBL’s stars, and I don’t think she’s wrong to feel like they don’t value her enough. They treat her well enough to be upset about losing her, but not well enough to have already made her partner and not well enough to actually give her authority (even though she runs a whole department). I’d be pretty unhappy too. It kind of feels sometimes like they take her for granted, and I don’t know that Lucca is one to feel like she owes a company anything. She’s more of an “I’m out for myself” type.  

Madeline and the other partner we’ve seen a few times who isn’t Liz/Diane/Adrian, walk into the office (wearing masks! Which they take off as soon as they enter a room with Liz! Without asking her if she is okay with this! TV logic!) and ask who is replacing Adrian. They think this is a good time to reevaluate having a white name partner of an African American firm, and they are spot on. Liz tries to deflect, noting that Diane is already a name partner and was before Liz even joined, but Madeline and other partner (whose name I really wish they would say so I can stop calling him “other partner”) won’t let up. Their position is that Diane shouldn’t have been made a name partner then—all she did was bring in ChumHum, an account that quickly left the firm. Good point.  

“What is this firm if it’s not African American? It’s just another midsized all-service Midwestern law firm, one of 50,” Madeline argues. The other partner says Liz needs to remove Diane and promote two African Americans to name partner. Liz laughs and asks if they mean themselves. Madeline does not—she's concerned about the number of black associates they’re letting go. Liz heads out, but this conversation is very much ongoing.

And I think it’s a very interesting dilemma! There’s a lot of mileage the writers can get out of this, because I don’t think there’s a right answer or a wrong one. It’s all about what Liz decides she wants the future of the firm to be. If Liz chooses Diane, she might be choosing something that works for her personally or that she thinks is a safer financial bet—but she’ll be choosing to work at a firm that can no longer be thought of as a black firm, and she’ll be choosing to move away from her father’s vision for the firm. And since the plot hinges on what Liz will decide rather than what’s objectively the right path forward, there’s a lot of interesting tension there I can’t wait to see.  

(My favorite thing about Adrian leaving is that Liz will likely get more to do, especially when it comes to managing the firm. Adrian tends to speak up first, but Liz is more than capable of managing without him and I’m so excited to see what she does when her ex-husband isn’t constantly talking over her.)  

Marissa and Lucca video chat with Jay. He’s still in the hospital. One thing that bugs me about how this episode handles COVID is that I never really get the sense that any of the characters are particularly afraid of the virus. Maybe none of them were. But you’d think you’d see a little of that fear, the weird dance of trying to assess others’ comfort levels with masking, etc., in an ep specifically about living through this time. ESPECIALLY since someone they all know and are close to has been hospitalized for MONTHS with this thing! It’s just so weird to go from a scene where people wear masks until they come in contact with other people (when masks matter the most) to a scene of someone in the hospital with COVID.  

And now Jay’s weird hallucinations start as his battery dies on the video chat. I really, truly, hated these hallucinations. I was ready to be done with these from the second they started. They’re weirdly shot, they go on for too long, and they feel like the clunkiest parts of Mind’s Eye when Alicia starts having a debate in her mind about atheism mixed with the (far superior) hospital episode of Evil.  

I don’t have much to say about these hallucinations except that I hated them a lot. When there’s the reveal that Jay is hallucinating a commerical, I almost came around on the hallucinations because that’s kind of funny and inspired. And then several more hallucinations popped up and they had a round table and Jesus got added to the mix and I was like, nope, this is bad in a very uninteresting way. I reject this.  

I feel like the Kings didn’t have much to say about COVID, the actual virus. This episode is definitely more about what the characters’ lives were like during COVID and not the pandemic itself. I think they likely got a lot of their COVID commentary out of their system with their zombie COVID show The Bite (I have not seen The Bite due to it airing on Spectrum On Demand, which I have no way of accessing. Like, I would have to move and then decide to pay for cable in order to watch it.) I also suspect a lot of their commentary on COVID isn’t going to be specific to the virus and is instead going to be about things like mask-wearing and vaccinations becoming political. And, really, that’s just a new variation on talking about polarization... and they’ve been talking about polarization for years.

In fact, they even wrote a whole series about an outbreak of a (space-bug-spread) virus that caused political polarization before Trump was even elected. BrainDead is basically commentary on the pandemic before the pandemic even happened. Soooooo I get why they are more interested in recapping 2020 than in doing a Very Special Episode about themes they’ve been talking about for years. (I still think they would’ve benefitted from at least one character being afraid of getting sick or getting their family sick.)  

There is likely some interesting content in these Jay hallucinations. I hate them so much I cannot find it. You know when you’re just on a completely different wavelength than the writers? This is an example of that.  

Also I’m not a fan of the shadowy directing. I think this is meant to look cooler than it does.  

Have I mentioned yet that I absolutely love the “Previously On” device for this episode? It’s such a fun, propulsive way to get through the slog of 2020. Scenes can be short and to the point, and each scene has to do a lot of lifting to fill in the gaps. I think that leads to scenes that are better constructed and telling on lots of levels—where are people when they’re quarantined? Who’s wearing casual clothes and when? What about this scene defines this character’s life at that moment in time?  

Bizarrely, even though this episode is pretty much all plot (this happens! Then that!), I actually found this to be one of the most character-driven episodes TGF has ever done. There’s a lot of story, but most of that story is about how the characters reacted to 2020 rather than overarching plots that will weigh on the rest of the season. This episode covers a lot of ground, but it does it with character moments that resonate.  

Now it’s July and Diane’s prepping to argue in front of the Supreme Court. Kurt’s helping her witness prep and it gets a little personal... and that ends up turning Diane on. Good to see McHart hasn’t lost its spark. (Remember how Kurt cheated on Diane in season 7 of Wife? No, me neither, because that never happened.)  

Corrupt judge is back. Adrian playfully tries to distract her from work. Then he takes a video call from Liz, who updates him on the conversation she had with John (so that’s his name) and Madeline. I guess that part of May was close to July? Anyway, Adrian isn’t surprised to hear that people are upset at the prospect of Diane being one of two name partners.  

Liz is at the office in workout clothes and I love it!

They’re losing 15 black associates (and Adrian and Lucca) and 4 white ones, Liz says. This sounds like a very big problem. (I’d be curious to know what that is as a percentage of the firm and how the racial composition shifts.)

Liz knows it’s not exactly up to her if Diane stays on as name partner (the other partners get a vote, but I think Liz knows she has a lot of sway here). She’s also wondering if Biden could win, and if so, would it be to the firm’s advantage to be black-owned? Interesting.  

“Well. If you’re thinking it, then Diane’s thinking it, too,” Adrian says. He’s right. “White guilt. It runs verrrrry deep on that one, huh?” Ha. He is right about that, too. I actually can’t decide which of these interpretations is correct, because it could be either even though they seem contradictory. (1) Is Adrian saying it with a hint of mockery because he knows Diane will fight for her partnership even as she would say she’s a huge supporter of black businesses? (2) Is he saying it because he knows Diane would have enough white guilt to realize what her presence as a partner means and think through the implications? I think it is, somehow, a combination. I’m interested in this line because this whole dilemma (from Diane’s POV) is something that’s very familiar. Diane’s always been an idealist who will betray her ideals for personal gain. That sounds like an attack, but I mean that as neutrally as I possibly can. There are so many examples of this that this is kind of just a character trait of hers at this point. Usually those ideals are about feminism, but this situation seems closely related.  

Adrian overhears Corrupt GF talking about Julius, Diane, and Memo 618. You would think she would wait to have this conversation until there is no chance of Adrian overhearing, because if Adrian overhears, he might...

... do exactly what he proceeds to do and hop into a car with Diane to give her a heads up. (I think I’m just going to have to accept that the mask usage rule on this episode is “we use masks to show that the characters would wear them, but we don’t want to have scenes where characters are fully masked because that’s annoying.” If that’s not the rule, then why else would Adrian be masked outside... and then take off his mask as soon as he gets into a confined indoor space with Diane?  

Baranski looks ESPECIALLY like Taylor Swift in this scene.  

Adrian tells Diane what he knows. He dug deeper after overhearing Charlotte, so he has even more info. “If you tell me, I will use it,” Diane warns. Adrian knows that, so he takes a moment to decide. And he decides that he cares more about Diane and Julius than about his relationship with a corrupt judge.  

Diane and Julius are masked in court. Visitor and the judge are not. They use masking in a clever way in this scene: Diane uses being masked to her advantage because it means no one can possibly read her lips, so she can use the info Adrian fed her against Charlotte without any fear of spies. Charlotte, who is unmasked, guards her lips with a folder, as the Visitor watches interestedly.  

Diane convinces Charlotte to recuse herself. Charlotte says she’s making a mistake; Diane does not care.  

The new judge is, unfortunately, the idiot who doesn’t know anything about the law. Uh oh.

Charlotte decides she’s done sheltering in place with Adrian. He tries to talk through the conflict, but Charlotte says “You made your choice, Adrian. Julius Cain over me.”

“The choice was about right and wrong, Charlotte,” Adrian tries to explain. I mean, yeah, but if you’re dating a judge who has admitted she’s totally corrupt, didn’t right and wrong go out the window a while ago?

Adrian seems to think the other people involved in the events are bad and Charlotte is good. I am not convinced. I don’t think she’s the big bad, but I don’t think she’s good.  

Charlotte points out that he invaded her privacy. She is right about that. “You said the choice was between right and wrong. Turning over my emails was the choice,” she said. I get her POV. But also, she is corrupt.  

I do not like the way the part of the scene where Adrian physically restrains Charlotte to keep her from leaving is shot. I don’t think this is an abusive scene but I think it should’ve been shot from a little farther back so we could see it’s more like Adrian reaching out in desperation than trying to choke Charlotte. Because it very much looks like he is trying to choke Charlotte.  

He tells Charlotte he loves her. She says it’s too late and leaves. “Maybe you won’t be with me. But you keep down this path... you’ll be done, I’m telling you, you’ll be done.”

I think something that I’ve been missing in these interactions is that I didn’t quite realize until this scene that the Adrian/Charlotte dynamic is more interesting than Adrian liking a corrupt judge. I think he truly believes Charlotte is a good person who got caught up in some bad stuff, and that she can bounce back from it. I’ve always seen Charlotte as someone who is corrupt for herself and then ended up going along with the corruption of others, too, so I’ve dismissed her and the relationship. This is the first scene that has felt real to me, and the first scene where she’s felt like more than a caricature. Kind of sad it’s the last she’ll get with Adrian—now I’m actually starting to find her interesting. Notice how in these last few sentences I’ve used her name instead of “Corrupt GF”!  

Charlotte says she loved Adrian too, but that’s not enough. Awww.

He can’t really be surprised though, can he?  

Now it is August and we get to see Diane and Liz react to the announcement of Kamala Harris as Biden’s VP pick, and I would like to thank the writers for giving me the opportunity to see Diane and Liz react to this. It’s kind of fan-service, but it’s also a nice tie-in to the girl-power theme of the Diane/Liz alliance.

Diane and Liz realize that Adrian’s probably not a good candidate for 2024 if the DNC only wants one black candidate and Harris is the clear front-runner. Liz suggests keeping him on as partner instead, in a way that very much implies this would be her ideal solution. Diane, being Diane, says she was liking the idea of an all-female firm. Liz hesitantly says she was too, and Diane senses the hesitation.

“Let’s look again at which associates to fire. I’m worried we’re losing too many African Americans,” Diane switches the subject. How have they still not made this decision? If any employees know downsizing is coming, and they’ve had months to act on it, assuming there are jobs elsewhere, people would’ve been jumping ship by now.  

But that’s not the point of this scene. The point of this scene is that Liz corrects Diane: “Black. You can just say Black people.” Very nice moment underlining the tension. Diane means well, but she’s still acting like a white lady who doesn’t know how to act around black people... and she wants to (and, I guess, already does) run a black firm. Major yikes.  

Marissa and Lucca are talking again. Marissa does not want to be in law school—she just wants to be a lawyer. Lucca won’t accept Marissa’s refusal to memorize meaningless rules: “Marissa. I know that you know how to play the game, but you have to pass the bar to get into a position to play the game.” Why does this line make me love Lucca? This line isn’t even anything amazing. It’s just a line that cuts through the bullshit and makes a good point.  

Marissa keeps going, insulting all of her peers and teachers, and Lucca figures out how to cut through that, too: she tells Marissa that she’d hire her as a lawyer if she killed someone, but only if Marissa passes the bar. Marissa is instantly intrigued.  

“Why are you leaving here? I’ll miss you,” Marissa says.  

“Because they won’t pay me what I deserve,” Lucca says in a matter-of-fact tone. “Anyway, I thought they fired you.”  

“But they didn’t mean it. It’s like the smoothie place—they kept trying to fire me and I just kept showing up,” Marissa replies. That checks out. (Love the callback!)  

Lucca tries to get Marissa to come over to England. Marissa shuts that down as Lucca gets a news alert—and it’s not good news.  

Our next date is September 18th, 2020 and I will get my nitpicks out of the way up front! I don’t really know why it is daytime for Lucca when she reads the news, considering it was already the evening in the States when the RBG news broke. And, also, it was Rosh Hashanah, so Marissa probably would not have been sitting in her bedroom studying... she most likely would’ve been with family or friends. OK I’M DONE. FOR NOW.  

Diane is getting ready for her arguments in front of the Supreme Court. It’s almost time! She’s in casual clothes but has on a wonderful mask. She’s standing in front of Kurt’s guns to make a point (love that she’s using her video call background to her advantage) and there are several people in her bedroom getting the tech all set up. I have noted before that they only built one set for Diane’s apartment, and it’s just a massive bedroom. Diane choosing to be in front of the guns does a nice job of cutting off my question about why she’d be arguing in front of the Supreme Court from her bedroom rather than the home office she absolutely would have.  

Kurt walks in and tries to shake hands... he’s clearly not very COVID paranoid, and Diane seems to be, and... that’s something I might have wanted to see? How was Diane okay with Kurt taking risks that also affected her?

Diane confirms she intentionally chose to stand in front of the guns. That’s when Kurt gets the push notification. He pulls Diane into the bathroom to show her the news. He hands her his phone and Diane’s face falls. She starts tearing up. “2020 just won’t let go,” she says, speaking for us all.

Normally I hate things that are like, we’re going to contrive this so the news hits at the worst possible moment! This works for me, because the Supreme Court plot for Diane feels more like something that exists to be a through line for the episode. It would also be a little hard to work in RBG’s death as a main plot point—and it is definitely important enough to be a main plotpoint—if it didn’t also affect something in the world of the show.  

Also, another reason I like this contrivance is that it makes it all the more powerful when Diane says, “It’s over. He gets to nominate someone. Another Kavanaugh! We’ll have a conservative court for the next 20 years. My whole fucking life!” She’s not thinking about how this affects her case (and that case is basically a life-long dream for her). She is thinking about way bigger things, and knowing that her mind goes to the bigger things before the personal with news like this really underlines how big of a deal RBG’s death was.  

Diane tells Kurt, “I don’t deserve you. You don’t agree with me.” “I can still feel bad for you,” he responds. He holds her while she cries.

Jay’s hallucination thing is back. Now Karl Marx is here. So is Jesus. I’m so done with this. It’s nice to get a break from writing.

Malcolm X is also on the roundtable and now they’re talking over each other in that way that everyone on this show always does. (RK gave an interview about Evil where he said he likes having the children on that show talk over each other because he grew up in a household like that. I did not need to read that interview to understand that RK likes scenes where people talk over each other.)  

If anything happened in those hallucinations, I missed it, because I didn’t pause the episode. Because I do not care about the hallucinations. Because I hate them.

Now it’s November 2020... Diane’s watching election results and rocking back and forth. She tells Kurt he can go watch Fox News in the other room (so they do have more than one room!). He says he’s fine—he thinks Diane needs it more.  

“Yes, but Kurt, if you stay, I know this isn’t sensible, but... Trump seems to get more votes whenever you’re sitting on this couch,” Diane tells him. Ha, I relate to this kind of superstition so hard. “Are you serious?” Kurt says. “I am so deathly serious,” Diane responds. “Whenever you’re sitting here, Arizona goes for Trump. Humor me, please. Just go in the other room.”  

When Kurt tries to kiss her, she pulls away: “No, no, no. No kiss. If you kiss me, we’ll lose Georgia.” This scene feels so, so real and perfectly captures what it was like (at least for me, though I don’t have a Republican husband or anything) watching election results come in.  

“Uh, if you lose, we’ll be fine, right?” Kurt asks. “Kurt, let me just say this. I’m only saying that we won’t be fine so that the universe will grant me a win,” Diane responds. This scene is so fun and so good! It simultaneously captures a relatable mood, adds some levity, gives us a window into Diane’s life, and shows some of the tensions in her marriage?! I want this all the time!  

Kurt leaves the room. Diane pours more wine.

Later, with Diane still rocking back and forth with anxiety (just you wait for the several more days this will drag on!), Kurt brings in the champagne. “That was for when Hillary won. I can only drink it if Biden wins,” Diane protests. Did I also refuse to drink any celebratory alcohol until things were absolutely certain? No comment.  

“It’s odd you progressives resisted religion. You seem to have a hundred religions to take its place,” Kurt says, speaking on behalf of the writers’ room. (This joke doesn’t get written if the writers don’t believe this and probably even see it in themselves.)  

“Go away, Trump. I mean Kurt,” she shoos him away. Have I mentioned yet I love this scene?  

“Love me even if you lose?” he jokes (though I do wonder if this isn’t that joking? I think it is, but he keeps saying it!) as Diane gestures at him to get out.  

I could do without the joke about Diane’s heart on the TV for a couple reasons. One, it goes on too long. Two, I was very worried something would actually happen to Diane. You’d think that would make the scene feel more tense, but it does not, because it takes me out of the moment.

“Ok, God. You know I don’t believe in you. But I will believe in you if Joe Biden wins. I’m sorry. I know that that’s not what Jesus taught. There’s nothing in the New Testament that says, ‘Believe in me, and I’ll make sure your candidate wins,’ but I need Joe Biden to win. I’m sorry, God, but I just do. I need some faith.” This is a little much but... yeah. Also, is this the first time Diane’s flat out said she’s an atheist? I think it is, though I’ve assumed as much for quite a while.  

The next day in court, masks are no longer required if you’re a series regular and votes are still being counted. I remember those days. Marissa thought Diane was checking in on Jay... Diane was not. She was checking on vote counts.  

Apparently Jay’s finally being released from the hospital!

Bad news for Julius—the idiot judge finds him guilty of some nonsense charge and sentences him to seven years in prison.  

Diane says not to worry, and Julius asks “Why not?” Good point.

Then we have election results! We skip, specifically, to December 14th and the electoral college vote. I’m a little sad we skipped over the huge party that was November 7th, but I get why they’d rather keep things moving along. I think showing November 7th in an uncomplicated way would’ve just been too close to fanservice. But, man, what a day.  

Diane, in a red hoodie with leopard print that she somehow manages to still look classy in, is ready to pop champagne. Then she hears that on January 6th, a joint session of Congress will count the electoral votes and there might be a debate. “Nope. If I open it now, something bad will happen,” she reasons. “I’ve waited four years. I can wait another few weeks.”

It’s been almost a year and they’re still somehow negotiating with Lucca, but I understand why they’d space this out across the episode. Otherwise we’d have to say goodbye to Lucca in the first like, 15 mins of the episode and all those scenes would be in a row. I can forgive (and still nitpick) choices like this when the reasoning behind them seems sound.  

Adrian says they don’t want to lose Lucca. He, Liz, and Diane are all in the conference room, and they ask Lucca for a yes or no on their latest offer by the end of the call. Diane offers Lucca partner—she'll be the youngest partner in the firm’s history—and she’ll get a $500,000/year salary. Adrian tries to sell her on being part of American history by being part of the firm.

“We are a black firm, Lucca, and we need you,” Liz says with a lot of passion for someone who knows she might very well partner with Diane. Diane looks at Liz with a bit of suspicion at this, wondering if Liz is showing her cards.  

Lucca manages to make the wifi malfunction (or she gets very lucky) and uses the disconnection to call Bianca for a counteroffer, even though they said they needed a yes or no on the spot.  

“They used George Floyd because they want you for less. They have never appreciated you as much as I do. All those scars, all that time being taken for granted and undervalued has made you a fighter. It’s made you someone I now want,” Bianca tells Lucca. She gives Lucca a counter offer of $1.3 million and the title of CFO. Lucca takes it. Is there really another choice? (If she were concerned about loyalty to the firm and the partnership was what she wanted, she probably would've just taken it.)  

(Also, the partners can’t really act like Lucca is making history by being the youngest partner ever when they passed her over for partner two years earlier and offered it to Maia! To MAIA! Who had like three years of work experience! And yes I was fine with Alicia and Cary getting partnership offers with four years but, one, that was a scam, and two, Alicia and Cary actually worked. Oh, I see I still hate Maia with a passion. Back to THIS season...)

Lucca apologetically informs Marissa she’s leaving and the offer was just too good to turn down. I believe it. I also believe Lucca wants that job more. What has loyalty to RBL gotten her? She's someone so talented and good at her job that she just gets job offers from acquaintances all the time (starting with Alicia!). RBL appreciates her, but just enough to appease her while still undervaluing her. I don’t know that I would’ve believed a plot where Lucca actively job hunts, but I definitely believe this.

“Marissa, we don’t have to work together to be friends,” Lucca tells Marissa. I’m going to miss this so much. Why is this the best material Lucca’s gotten in ages?! I think one of the things that makes Lucca such a great character is that you can see why everyone instantly wants her on their team. She’s a fantastic friend (without giving too much of herself), she’s not a pushover, and she is incredibly sharp and able to get to the heart of any situation. I love her and I’m sad we won’t get to see more of her.  

(On that bit about friendship—I can’t write about Lucca’s departure without writing about the moment I realized just how great of a character Lucca was. It was in 7x13, when Alicia has her breakdown that’s seven seasons in the making... and Lucca supports her. But the writing, and Cush’s performance, never make it feel like Lucca exists to be a part of Alicia’s story. Lucca seems like her own fully formed person who happens to be supporting Alicia at this moment. I don’t think I can overstate how tough of a task it is to get me to care about the other person in a pivotal Alicia scene, especially when that other person was added to the cast in the final season and many suspected she’d just be a replacement for a different beloved character! Anyway, Lucca’s been great for years, and I’ll miss her.)  

Just when I thought I couldn’t hate the hallucinations more, we get a hint that they are going to continue: Jay sees one right after he learns that Marissa’s used her quarantine to start law school and he’s done nothing.  

Jay says he carries a gun now and it’s “performative.” I have no idea what that means and Marissa and Lucca don’t seem to, either.  

Another thing I like about Lucca’s final scene is that it isn’t rushed. We have time for all that, and also for Lucca to tell Marissa about the time she stole her breakfast sandwich, and for Marissa to react to it, and for Marissa to find Lucca’s Birkin bag, and for Lucca to tell Marissa to keep it, and for Marissa to react to that, and for Lucca to sappily say “think of me when you use it,” and for Marissa to nonsensically reply, “you think of me when I use it,” and there’s still a little bit more of the scene after that!  

Marissa’s silly line makes Lucca tear up. “God, I’m gonna miss you guys,” she says. “I’m gonna miss this. You make me smile. I didn’t smile much before you guys.” Awwwwwww. This is also so true to character! Her friendship with Alicia aside, Lucca’s definitely said before she’s not one to have friends (which is hilarious because she is, as I've said like 100 times, a fantastic friend and also just like, the coolest person??? Who wouldn’t want to be HER friend?!).  

She says she has to go because she’s getting too emotional and says goodbye. She’s also super sappy and when Marissa says, “you were the best,” she responds that they were the best TOGETHER! Awwwwwww.  

What a nice, fitting goodbye for Lucca. There’s no bad blood or fireworks—she just makes a change like a lot of people do. I’d like to think she’ll still be friends with Marissa and Jay after this. I don’t want too many Lucca references in future episodes, but I would really like it if we see Marissa and Jay update each other on the latest from Lucca, or if a scene begins with Marissa closing out an Instagram post from Lucca of her kid, or something. I wouldn’t want clues about what Lucca’s up to, but I’d love to see that she’s still a part of Marissa and Jay’s lives.

Now it is January 6th. Liz, Adrian, and Diane sit on the floor of the mostly empty office, watching TV coverage and drinking. It’s so relaxed it’s almost surreal, and it, like many other moments in this episode, feels like a slice of life. Everyone’s dressed casually and no one is worried about appearances or looking like the boss.  

“God, have you ever seen anything like it. It’s so fucked,” Diane says. Adrian’s more optimistic—the courts rejected most of the challenges to election results! “System worked,” he says. “Yay.” Liz says in response. She’s not as optimistic as he is.  

“Liz. Liz. Sometimes when things work out, there is no parade. There’s no congratulations, but I’ll tell you this: We live to fight another day,” he explains to her even though she makes a good point that a system just barely hanging on doesn’t bode well for the future. (She doesn’t say all this, but that’s a very loaded, “Yay.”)  

“Yeah? Then why are you leaving the law?” Liz asks. Diane seconds to the question.

Adrian announces he’s still retiring—and he’s moving to Atlanta. He wants to go to the south to help “create and consolidate political power.” He’s excited to start over and inspired by Georgia going blue. This is a very nice exit for Adrian. I fully believe that he’s interested in political organizing, that he’d be good at it, and that he’s ready for a change. I don’t think he’s always the most progressive person (of the three in this scene, Liz is absolutely the most progressive one, though Diane probably thinks she is!), but I absolutely think he thinks of himself as an activist and I believe that if he’s going to step away from the law, he’d do so to make a move like this.  

Adrian—and Lucca, but especially Adrian—probably both got better exits thanks to the events of 2020. If Adrian had just left to be groomed by the DNC, that would’ve been a predictable and boring ending for him. His candidacy would, obviously, go nowhere, and the whole thing felt weird from the minute it was introduced. But this? Adrian being energized—like so many others were—by the ways the world changed in 2020 and using his already announced departure from the firm and recent breakup as a chance to start over and make change? This is great!  

Adrian asks Liz and Diane what’s next for them. Liz says that she thinks the Biden admin will be better for black businesses. Adrian asks if they’re replacing him, and Diane says, “I think the big question is, are you replacing me?” She’s smart. I like how this scene goes from friendly to tense very fast, with everyone kind of testing the waters. Adrian tries to force the conversation, Liz opens with something vague yet pointed, and Diane speaks what’s previously been unspoken.

Liz says it’s not her intention to push Diane out. “I can’t change the color of my skin,” Diane replies. “I know,” Liz laughs. Audra’s delivery is fantastic on that line.  

“Hey, I’m gonna fight for my partnership,” Diane says. “I know,” Liz says. The tone of this scene is so different from previous partnership drama on these shows and I’m excited about it. This is just a bunch of adults talking about business decisions with each other and treating each other as equals?? It's not backstabbing?? Or drama?? No one is hiding things?? It’s refreshing and I hope this plot stays like this. We’ve done so much partnership drama that I think drama that stems from a real, pressing question that has no easy answers and isn’t anyone’s fault is going to be much more fruitful for the show.  

Adrian heads out—ah, I see now this scene is set in his empty office and this is why they are on the floor—and gets a nice last moment with Diane. And then they give him a last moment with Liz, which I knew they would but was still glad to see.  

Liz asks if he knows what he’s doing—he says he’s not sure.

Adrian asks if Liz knows where she stands regarding Diane. “It’s going to be interesting,” Liz says. I don’t think she’s decided what she’s going to do yet.

It wouldn’t be an Adrian and Liz scene if Adrian didn’t have some unsolicited advice. “Diane’s a terrific lawyer, but this firm belongs to you.  Your dad built it. He did, Liz. Despite all his faults. You got to run this place the way you want. This is a black firm. And after today, the world needs black firms. You got me?” He tells Liz. He makes it seem like Liz gets the choice and then tells her what to do. She says, “I got it,” signaling she understood him but not that she necessarily agrees.  

I cannot wait to see what Liz does next!!!!!!! About this but just in general!!!!! Without Adrian there giving her constant advice I feel like she can grow so much and the show will have to give her more to do!!! I think Adrian, for all his many wonderful qualities and all he brought to the show, can suck all the air out of a room with his charisma, and Liz usually ends up suffering as a result. She’s such a capable lawyer in her own right, but Adrian has a way of making it always seem like he’s right—even in arguments she wins. I’m excited to see Liz lead (or stumble at leadership; she is fairly new to management) without Adrian’s direct influence.  

Liz walks Adrian out and it’s cute. They run into Marissa and Jay. “Everybody fun is leaving,” Marissa notes. Liz is minorly offended, but playfully. Heh.

Adrian asks Jay how he’s doing; Jay says he’s a long-hauler but he’s doing okay. I like that they included that moment in Adrian’s goodbye sequence. It’s a very little thing, but it underlines that Adrian cares about Jay.  

Then Liz interrupts to note that Trump pardoned a lot of convicted and corrupt Republican officials....... including Julius.  

Everyone celebrates, but especially Diane and Marissa. Diane lets out her wonderful laugh and then we, finally, get to the credits. Because now that the previouslies are over, it’s time for the real show.

The credits are absolutely delightful, btw. I was a little worried some of the kittens would blow up, though! Once I relaxed and realized what they were up to—literal puppies and kittens because Biden won—I couldn’t get enough of these credits. They work so well because they accurately capture the way I (and all of these characters, except maybe Julius and Kurt) feel about the election results, but it’s so exaggerated that you know the kittens and puppies aren’t a realistic representation of our new reality. They’re just too good to be true, but you may as well enjoy them for a minute. I’m sure we’ll be back to exploding vases next week.

What a great episode! My timeline nitpicks and whatever they’re trying to do with Jay aside, I was blown away by how well the writers managed to move on from season 4, tie up loose ends, and write out two main characters. And they did it all while making me revisit the events of 2020, a year I don’t think many of us want to spend much time thinking about! This episode was enjoyable, fun, emotional, and clever. I don’t know what to expect from the rest of the season, but I’m definitely excited about the show in a way I haven’t really been in quite some time.  

This season’s naming convention seems to be titles that end with ... and only have the first word capitalized. I want to see more. 

Season FIVE? There have already been as many TGF seasons as there were TGW seasons prior to Hitting the Fan?! Time flies. 

Please writers: No topical episodes this year-- no pee tape, no Melania divorce, no Epstein. None of that business. 

Sorry if I repeated myself here. I never proofread these things, and I wrote half of this on Saturday and half of it today (Wednesday) and the days in between were an absolute blur so I cannot remember if I said the same things about this episode twice. 

[valkyriesryde]

The Dynamic Between Us

Pairing: Modern!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader (with a hint of Sam Wilson x Steve Rogers because I can’t help myself)

Summary: You need a ride and god forbid you have to call Bucky in your time of need. That damned man and his stupid ways of being in your life.

Warnings: angst, happy ending, fluff, cheating (but not between the pairing), sad boi hours with a sprinkle of miscommunication because we a sucker for that kinda trope

Word Count: 2,900....

A/N: This is for @flowerymoonlight ‘s challenge which was uhh a couple weeks ago I’m sorry babe lmao but it’s here! The theme was enemies to lovers and I tried my best. It’s also for @stuckonjbbarnes Fluff vs Angst challenge, the prompt is bolded. I hope y'all enjoy!!

Masterlist

I can’t call Steve or Sam because it’s date night.

I can’t call Wanda she’s with Pietro

I can’t call Natasha, she’s having dinner with Clint and his family.

Goddammit!

I don’t want to call him

I have to

I don’t have a choice

The contact sat on your phone as clear as day though you struggled to actually read it properly through the water in your eyes. You could still tell who it was, your last option, the one you really didn’t want to call but damn you had to.

Calling Long-haired Roommate

“Hello?” The deep voice answered, slightly annoyed and you knew he was annoyed it was you calling.

You struggled to control your breathing enough to answer him, the sob sitting in your chest heavy as you held your hand over your mouth to conceal it.

“Hello? Dammit, did you buttdial me, fucking hell, why me? Come on ma-”

“Bucky?” Your voice strangled and desperate.

“Doll what the hell?” He still sounded annoyed but there was a hint of worry, it can’t be.

A deep breath and you closed your eyes, trying not to think about the events that led to you sitting in your car balling your eyes out and calling the one person least likely to help you in any situation.

“Um, I’m having car issues and I wouldn’t be calling you if I didn’t have another choice, can you please just come pick me up?” You rushed out the lie in one breath then held another in to stop the tears.

“What about Jake?”

Don’t say his fucking name.

“He’s at work, can you please just come and get me?” Another deep breath, control yourself. “I'm frustrated and I-I just need you to come pick me up. I’m outside his apartment…” Your voice was strained and Bucky had a feeling something was wrong, you knew he did, you were never the best liar but you weren’t ready to say the truth out loud yet or admit it happened to anyone, especially him.

Nonetheless he begrudgingly agreed and so you waited in your car for your knight in shining armour...or well Bucky in his beat up pick up truck.

When you heard the truck pull up next to you you immediately got out and made your way to his passenger door, you were already standing in front of the car when Bucky got out of his side and that’s when you saw it, the jumper cables.

“No,” you groaned and he furrowed his brows at you.

“What do you mean no? Your car isn’t working, this is literally my job to find out what the problem is and fix it…” he trailed off as he walked towards you and his eyes caught sight of something behind you. The confusion on his face was replaced by rage and Bucky shook his head. “Are you fucking kidding me?! That’s Jake’s car! What, you got into a fight so you didn’t want to call him? Fucking hell, I’m not your goddamn chauffier!”

Bucky turned around and threw his cables into the backseat of the car but he paused before he got back into the truck. He was a second away from driving away, from leaving you here because your boyfriend lived upstairs and you were a goddamn adult who should be able to communicate with your significant other. But in that second you didn’t reply with a snarky comment, you didn’t tell him to fuck off, you didn’t tell him Jake was a dick, you didn’t say anything.

When Bucky turned around he saw you standing there, your eyes staring blankly at him, your chest moving rapidly and he realised you were crying.

“Your car is working isn’t it?”

You nodded, Bucky stepped towards you again.

“Jake’s not at work is he?” You shook your head, Bucky stood in front of you now, toe to toe and he looked over his shoulder and saw red.

“Right then.” He pushed around you and stormed towards the building’s entrance, his hand on the hand as you could grab his other arm and stop him in his tracks.

“Bucky no please, it’s nothing okay I just want to go home.” You continued to cry and beg him to just leave this godforsaken place and he was so tempted to brush you off and storm up there and give Jake a piece of his mind but when your hand slid into his it was like the heat of his skin cooled and his mind started to become clear again.

When he looked at you he saw you like he never had before, you were small, you were broken and you were pleading for him to just do this one thing. Why did he want to stand up for you? Why did he feel so protective over you? Why can’t he just be his normal asshole self and take you home?!

“Okay, but I need to know what the fuck is going on?” He demanded finally.

“I’ll tell you okay...on the way home.”

Sam and Steve were out, they would be until midnight at least, date night always went on forever for them. It was currently just past ten as Bucky drove through the near deserted streets home, it wasn’t a long drive, ten minutes or so.

“Please don’t tell anyone,” you asked into the silence that sat around the two of you.

Bucky gripped the steering wheel he tried so hard not to be angry, you didn’t want that but fuck it was hard not to turn the car around and pummel the guy.

“They’re going to want to know what happened,” he muttered and glanced over to you, you’d stopped crying but it was so obvious that you had been. “I won’t tell them, but what are you going to tell them?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, “we broke up, it wasn’t working. Isn’t that enough?”

“They’re nosey, they’ll want to know and they’ll probably figure out that there’s something else-”

“I don’t care Bucky!” You yelled as he pulled into the carpark. “I really couldn’t give a shit what they think or what they want to know! I got cheated on. Is that what I should tell them? I walked in on him fucking a girl on the table and he said it was my fault. It’s my fault, I pushed him to it, I’m the one that should be to blame. Is that what you want me to tell them? Tell them how he told me he was sorry,”

Bucky got out of the car and walked around to your side, you sobbed and tore off your seatbelt, throwing open the door and slamming it shut behind you.

“About how he suggested we have an open fucking relationship? You know what Bucky? Thanks for picking me up but I don’t need your fucking opinion on what I should do! When have you given a shit about what I do?!”

Bucky ignored you, you yelled and cried at him and he ignored you. He pulled out his phone and started scrolling.

“God you’re INSUFFERABLE!” You yelled, then he held out his phone for you to see.

“What? When is this from? Is this about me?” He took the phone back and put in his pocket, he shrugged his shoulders and leaned against the truck.

“Couple weeks ago. I saw ‘he who shall not be named’ out with a group and he and this one chick looked too close for my liking. Steve said I was probably overreacting so I forgot about it until now. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I never trusted him to be honest-”

“Bucky what the hell?!” You yelled again, you kept yelling at him and you couldn’t stop, your emotions were on high. “You knew?! Steve knew?!”

“No. You’re not listening to me.”

“Then explain it?” You folded your arms and Bucky had the audacity to chuckle, he reached out and pried your arms apart, his hands running up your sides.

“I didn’t like what I saw, but I didn’t see anything actually out of the ordinary, I just wanted a justification for despising him that wasn’t my jealousy. Steve said it was probably nothing, he didn’t think anything of it either and played it off like I did, I was jealous.” He sighed as his hands came to the top of your shoulders, the base of your neck, your jaw and he was standing chest to chest.

“I don’t need this right now, you picked the worst possible time you know that?” You pushed him away and pressed the palms of your hands into your eyes, Bucky didn’t stand his ground, he stepped backwards and let you have your space.

“You called me, remember?”

“You were my last option.”

“You still called,” he shrugged, “and I came running, like I always do. I know this is shit timing but are you blind? You know who told those chicks in senior year to back off? Me. You know who almost got expelled in our second year of college because two fratdicks wouldn’t stop harassing you at a party? Me. You know who got and made that bookshelf you love so much? Me.” Bucky began pacing, you watched him in shock, you had no idea.

You thought it was Nat in high school, she was always threatening to do something. You thought the frat boys got bored and left you alone but Bucky had gotten them to back off. You thought it was Steve and Sam that got you the bookshelf for your birthday, you gushed about it for weeks, but it was Bucky. It was Bucky.

“You could have told me? You could have said literally ANYTHING Bucky!” You were crying for a whole nother reason now, no longer about Jake but Bucky, about all the years you could have had any sort of positive relationship with Bucky, if he hadn’t let you believe that you despised each other.

“I WAS SCARED!” He yelled and turned his back to you, he heard the garage door at the top of the ramp start to open and his eyes went wide as he turned and stepped towards you. “I was scared and so I lied and I’m sorry for that. I don’t do feelings very well and I didn’t know how to express them except for actions but then I hid what actions I was doing because I was scared. Now you know, I’m sorry it was shit timing but I’m not going to let you believe what Jake did was your fault when I’m standing here living proof that you don’t deserve to be treated like that because it’s his fault. He did that.”

The car came down the ramp, its lights blaring through the windows of Bucky’s truck and came towards the two of you before slowing down.

“And you wouldn’t?” It pulled into the spot beside his truck, Steve’s spot.

“No, never.” Before you could say anything he stormed past you and into the stairway, he ran up the stairs two at a time until he got to his floor but he couldn’t bear to open it and walk into your apartment. So he sunk to the floor against the wall and waited for his heart to slow down and his mind to stop reeling.

“What’s going on here?” Sam asked with a smirk but it quickly dropped when he saw your tearstained face and Steve rushed towards you.

“What happened?”

“Jake and I broke up,” you said looking at the stairway, “and Bucky picked me up because I didn’t trust myself driving home.”

“Oh darling,” “you could have called us,” they both enveloped you in a hug, you stood there in their arms for a few minutes and then the two men guided you towards the elevator and you went up to your shared apartment.

No one mentioned Bucky’s running off. Not until you were walking down the hallway and Sam asked if you had gotten into a spat, you brushed it off and said “yea, I should probably apologise,” but he wasn’t in his room, he wasn’t in the apartment.

“He’s probably just cooling down, maybe he’s on the roof? He’ll be fine.” Steve told you but you could tell he was worried too.

The stairs were the only way to the roof, you only made it to the door and then you saw him, through the little window, leaned against the wall with his eyes closed. You slowly opened it so as not to startle him but Bucky’s eyes opened as soon as he heard the door and he watched you close it behind you and sit next to him without a word.

One beat, then two before either of you spoke.

“I used to have a massive crush on you,” you said quietly, “in highschool, way back when. But you were off limits in my head because you were a part of the group. Then we started this whole banter dynamic that we have, and then it just kept going and you got with Dot and then she did not like me and so our relationship took a hit. When you broke up it wasn’t quite the same. Our banter was a lot angrier, there was less joking in it. Then it just never went back to the way it was, we got into the rhythm of it I suppose.” Bucky’s eyes were on you and yours were on the wall as you spoke. “You have terrible timing.”

“I saw an opportunity,” he whispered as you turned to  face him. “You called me.”

“What did you do to almost get expelled?”

“Threatened large amounts of violence on campus...they couldn’t prove it but I could prove they were harassing girls, so it all worked out,” Bucky shrugged his shoulders and smiled shyly. “I’m sorry I threw all that at you. I really am, I just-” “You saw an opportunity I know.”

“I wanted you to know someone does love you…”

“Bucky…”

“I know,” he stood up from the floor and held his hand out for you, “shit timing, I’m aware. You don’t have to do anything or say anything but I just wanted you to know.” You grabbed his hand and he pulled you up, waiting a second longer before letting go.

“I’m not saying no, or that I don’t think there’s anything there, but I’m not in the headspace to be making any sort of decision right now.”

“I know,” he smiled again and you cursed yourself for ever thinking he could hate you when he looked at you like that. “How about we start with stopping pretending we hate each other?”

“Sounds like a deal,” you laughed and the both of you shook on it.

Bucky pulled open the door, “you first,” he told you and you stepped into the hallway, he let it shut behind him but before he could make a move to walk to the apartment your fingers gripped his collar and your lips were on his.

Bucky was initially taken aback by it but soon enough you were moving insync and he had you against the wall of the hallway. His hands gripped your shit and held your waist. One hand goes into your hair to hold the back of the neck as the two of you part slowly, a shy smile on his face as your face is in a slight state of shock, you were expecting that reaction.

“I’m sorry I-”

“No don't be, I’m not mad about that,” you’re both whispering, like if anyone heard it’d be the end of the world, or like you’re in your own little world and it's only big enough for the two of you.

Bucky’s head dips again and his lips brush over yours, “I thought you said?”

“I know what I said,” and you capture your lips with his again. It’s slow and soft, different from before but the feeling is still there. It’s different from any other guy you’ve kissed, there’s no confusion about what Bucky feels as he kisses you, it’s like you can feel his love, his adoration for you in every movement of his muscles, in every touch of his fingertips and movement of his jaw.

“I thought the timing-” he backs away slowly but only an inch so he can look in your eyes, though his view switches around the entirety of your face and body between his and the wall.

“It is, we shouldn’t, fuck,” you start to panic and Bucky is there in a flash with his hand holding your jaw and reassurance on his face.

“We don’t have to do anything more than that tonight, for the next week, month, I don’t care.” He says with so much confidence that you almost miss the pain in his voice from knowing he still can’t have you after kissing you.

“What if I want to?”

Bucky chuckled and leaned his forehead against yours, “then I’m not going to say no,” he bit his lip.

“Can we take it slow?”

“Of course,” he steps back and his hands fall to yours as he pulls you towards the apartment door, “why don’t we go to your room, because your bed is bigger than mine, and watch a movie, or talk,” he shrugged his shoulders, “anything we want, and we’ll take it slow.”

He leaned against the door and smiled at you as you gleamed back, “that sounds good to me.”

“Maybe we should keep it from mum and dad though,” he gestures with his head and you laugh, agreeing with him.

“All in due time,” you smile as you open the door behind him. All in due time this will grow from the wounds and you and Bucky will find your footing in this new dynamic.

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!

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[riotwritesthings]

Ode to Yoga Pants

OR the continued terrible mating dance of Bucky and Tony

AKA when betting on your friends stops being fun

Title: Ode to Yoga Pants Collaborator Name: Riot Bucky Barnes Bingo Square Filled: K5, Team Dynamics StarkBucks Bingo Square Filled: O5, “I’d like it if you stayed.” Ship/Main Pairing: WinterIron Rating: M Major Tags & Triggers: Mutually pining morons, humor Summary: OR the continued terrible mating dance of Bucky and Tony, AKA when betting on your friends stops being fun Word Count: 2,282

Here on AO3!

-

Tony is heading to the gym for Steve’s newly mandated team training time and yeah, he’s late, but he does have coffee. So at least he’s on brand.

It looks like everyone else has beat him here, which isn’t really surprising, and Tony tosses out a grin and wave in response to the unimpressed look Steve shoots him.

Then his eyes land on Bucky. Who is doing one armed pushups. Completely vertically, pointed toes up in the air and strands of hair falling loose around his face where it’s come loose from the hair tie. And he is in yoga pants.

They hug his calves, his ass, his thighs, tight black spandex with gray piping up sides and Tony is weak.

Forget team bonding, Tony needs to get out of here right now, before he makes a fool of himself. Except he spins too quickly, hot coffee sloshing over the rim of his mug and onto his fingers, and he’s so busy hissing over the sharp burst of pain that he walks straight into the door as it swings shut.

“Ack, fuck,” Tony gasps, more hot coffee splashing out across his hand, rubbing at his forehead and apparently he’s a little dizzy because he goes to take a step back and tilts to the side instead, bouncing off the wall.

He’s almost caught his balance, and then he trips over Sam’s stupid jump rope, and then his thighs hit the weight bench and he tumbles backwards over it, the last dregs of his coffee somehow ending up entirely on his chest.

“Damnit Wilson,” Tony grumbles, “I knew you were out to get me!”

There’s a soft chuckle from somewhere above him, and Tony pries his eyes open. He’s half expecting to see Sam, ready to defend himself and deny that he’s trying to kill Tony with workout equipment even though he very clearly is.

Instead it’s Bucky, leaning over him all shirtless and sweaty and concerned.

“You okay, doll?”

When Tony tries to speak all that comes out is a strangled gurgling sound, and Bucky’s concerned look gets deeper.

-

“Gross, they’re doing it again,” Sam complains, pausing mid situp to shoot a glare across the gym.

When Steve glances away from sparring with Natasha she takes the opportunity to pop him in the throat.

“This isn’t even funny anymore,” Natasha says while Steve coughs and hacks and gives her a dirty look.

“It stopped being funny weeks ago,” Rhodey says as he leans against the ropes of the boxing ring and shakes his head in disappointment.

“You’re just saying that because that’s when you were officially out of the betting pool,” Clint says with a snort.

“I really didn’t think it would take them this long,” he says with a morose sigh, “I’m ashamed.”

Steve makes a sound that might be agreement.

“New bet, how much worse can it possibly get?” Sam tries to joke, but he has a terrible feeling that it’s not a joke at all.

“I think we’re all the losers in that bet,” Natasha says as they all watch Bucky help a still clearly-swooning Tony out of the gym.

The poor pining morons don’t even notice they have an audience. Just like Bucky somehow doesn’t notice that Tony is literal putty in his hands, and Tony mysteriously doesn’t notice Bucky giving him the sappiest heart eyes ever.

It’s shameful, is what it is.

-

Tony lets Bucky drag him into the kitchen, sinks onto one of the stools when gently pushed in that direction, and he’s becoming uncomfortably aware that his shirt is still splattered with cooling coffee and probably clinging to his chest.

He should probably go change, and then maybe go hide out somewhere until he figures out how to deal with Bucky in yoga pants.

But before Tony can figure out how to convince his legs to actually move, Bucky is done digging around in the freezer and by his side again.

“Ow,” Tony says with an exaggerated wince as Bucky presses a bag of ice to the back of his head, and then nearly melts out of his seat when Bucky shushes him with a wide palm running down the back of his neck.

He’s not actually as rattled as Bucky seems to think he is, but Tony certainly isn’t going to correct him. It’s a much safer excuse than admitting his brain went to mush the second he saw Bucky’s thighs, all wrapped up and accentuated in tight black spandex, and it still hasn’t quite come back online.

From here, with Bucky standing beside him and gently holding his head still while Tony stares studiously at the floor, all Tony can see of Bucky is his foot. The tight black fabric ends just above the delicate bones of his ankle, his bare toes wiggling against the tile floor as he pulls the ice away and inspects Tony’s head.

Forget getting his brain working again, Tony is just trying to keep his stupid heart from crawling its way up his throat over ankles. Like some kind of repressed Puritan, Jesus.

Which means he can’t at all stop himself from nervously stuttering out “Those-those are uh, nice... you like yoga pants huh?”

There’s a vague sense of motion beside him, like Bucky is shrugging, as he says “They’re comfortable.”

“Uh huh, they-“ Tony starts to say, and then nearly swallows his tongue when Bucky steps around in front of him again.

His eyes automatically drag upwards, and it takes everything Tony has not to let himself linger, not to get caught staring at the frankly mouthwatering bulge of Bucky’s cock that his skin tight leggings are not doing a very good job of hiding.

He jerks his gaze up higher and it doesn’t help because oh god there’s Bucky’s chest, still bare and so close and by the time he finally manages to make himself look up at Bucky’s face he can’t breathe.

“They- uh, s-sure look it,” Tony stutters out, and furious blushing is totally a symptom of a concussion, right?!

Bucky’s smile stays warm and friendly, so he’s probably alright.

And all Bucky says is “You should try them! I can send you the site I got ‘em from, Nat recommended it to me.”

“Okay,” Tony squeaks and damnit he’s actually going to have to buy some yoga pants now. There’s no other way to play off his sudden fascination with them.

-

A week later, everyone has lost the bet.

They find the two morons asleep together on the couch, legs tangled and blankets wrapped around them both.

The entire team agrees it’s the most disgusting thing they’ve ever seen.

-

Steve is taking his frustrations out on a punching bag when Bucky suddenly ducks behind the bag, grabbing it and holding it still so he can hide behind it.

“What is this, why are you doing this?” Steve demands, rhythm thrown and half-debating just punching the bag anyways in the hopes that it’ll shake Bucky loose.

“Steve,” Bucky hisses, like he somehow hasn’t noticed that he already has Steve’s full attention, “Steve, I’ve made a terrible mistake.”

“What are you talking about?”

Bucky’s head pops out from around the punching bag, eyes fixed on something across the gym as he hisses “Tony bought yoga pants.”

Steve turns and sure enough, Tony and Natasha are standing near the sparring mats in matching black and gray patterned spandex.

“Does Nat get money every time she talks someone into buying those?” Steve has to wonder, because she has been relentlessly texting him the link too.

“Steve,” Bucky hisses again, “Steven. I can’t- how do I even- Steve-“

“What?!” Steve demands impatiently, because he really wants to go back to punching things, and not thinking about the awkward mating dance of his best friends.

“Look at his ass!”

Steve huffs and resists the urge to gag at the open reverence in Bucky’s tone. He does turn though, just in time to watch Tony bend over in a low stretch.

“Perfect little bubble, I just wanna bury my face in it and live there,” Bucky sighs.

“Huh,” Steve says, tilting his head a little to get a better view because damn, Bucky is not exactly wrong- “Ow!” He squawks when Bucky swings the punching bag into him, “you’re the one who told me to look!”

“Not like that!” Bucky snaps back. It looks like he’s considering hitting Steve with the punching bag again, and Steve holds up a single finger in warning.

“Do not,” he says sternly.

Bucky settles for just hugging the bag instead, gaze already drifting across the gym again. Steve has a terrible feeling he’s not going to get back to his workout.

“Please just ask him out,” Steve says plaintively, “pretend to act like a functional person.”

“How am I supposed to function when faced with The Most Amazing Ass Ever™️?!” Bucky demands, and then makes a weird whimpering sound as Tony no doubt does something. Like existing.

Steve refuses to look over, instead just sighing out “Get off my punching bag, you’re making this so weird.”

“I’m filin’ a complaint,” Bucky says, clearly not listening to him anymore and still staring with rapt attention at where Tony is apparently doing something fascinating. “These pants are supposed to be ‘super stretchy’ but they clearly did not count on boners cuz my dick is strangled.”

“Excuse me,” Steve says, already walking away, “I need to go vomit.”

Hell, next week he might skip mandatory team training.

-

Tony is laying on his stomach on the common room floor, propped up on his elbows as he pokes at his phone and kicks his feet lazily in the air.

He’s wearing bright red yoga pants today, and even Clint is not immune.

He catches himself after a couple seconds of staring at the swell and bounce of Tony’s ass, and gives himself a vigorous shake. That’s a good way to earn the Winter Soldier Death Glare.

Even if said Winter Soldier is too much of a disaster to actually do anything about his super obvious crush.

“So are yoga pants just the new thing?” Clint asks, climbing over the back of the couch and keeping his eyes safely on Tony’s face, because he does not want to be assassined to death today. “You’re just gonna wear them all the time?”

“They’re comfortable,” Tony says with an absent shrug, then grins up at Clint and wiggles his eyebrows as he adds “Plus, they make my ass look great.”

And Clint can’t exactly argue that, so instead he just flatly says “You’re going to give Barnes a heart attack.”

Tony looks confused for a split second, and then smiles widely.

“Because I pull them off so much better than he does?” he asks, striking a pose, and Clint seriously considers running away to join the circus. Again.

He’s not even sure if things will actually be better if they eventually get together at this point.

He should make that the new bet.

-

“I’m just saying,” Tony insists, and then raises his voice when Steve put his head down on the table and starts humming under his breath, “If I thought Bucky was actually interested, I would 100% be here for him. With open arms-“

“Well that’s actually kind of-“

“And open legs-“

“Tony-“

“And an open mouth,” Tony finishes, grinning and winking when Steve looks up at him with a glare.

“Tony, please, I don’t want to hear this,” Steve says, hands over his ears and he does actually look a little green.

“This is nothing,” Tony says with a scoff, giving Steve an unimpressed look, because he is weak. “You should hear the shit I say to Rhodey.”

“I would like to hear those things,” says a voice directly behind him.

Tony freezes, his entire body going cold, because he knows that low, warm, rumbling voice. He hears it in his dreams, and oh no oh no oh no, now Bucky knows.

So much for his plausible deniability.

His brain kind of goes staticy with panic for a second, and he’s only dimly aware of Steve rolling his eyes.

“Yeah my part in this conversation is done,” Steve says, and promptly bails.

When Tony’s brain finally reboots he finds that Bucky has taken Steve’s seat across the kitchen table.

Bucky is also just grinning at him, like he doesn’t find Tony’s borderline-obsessive crush at all creepy.

All Tony can think to say is “What.”

And then he realizes he doesn’t actually want an answer, doesn’t want to find out if Bucky is going to make fun of him, or if he thinks it’s all a joke. He can’t decide if that would actually be better or worse than being turned down gently, and he doesn’t intend to stay and find out.

“I’m just...” Tony sputters, face burning as he flails his way out of his chair, “Gonna- gonna go. Run away. Yep.”

“Wait,” Bucky says, eyes wide and halfway out of his own chair.

Tony freezes, because Bucky looks a lot like he feels. Thrown, surprised, confused and so hopeful that it’s terrifying.

“I-I’d like it if you stayed,” Bucky says slowly, then smiles crooked and nervous as he adds “Not that I don’t like watchin’ you walk away.”

It startles a laugh out of Tony, face flushing as he sinks back into his chair. “Okay,” he says, heart racing and smile almost painfully wide, “um, what?”

Bucky laughs, soft and low and warm, and finally finishes reaching across the table to take Tony’s hand in his own.

-

Clint wins the bet on how much worse their lives get once the love-struck morons start making out all over the place.

[wandasallerdyce]

Touch - Bucky Barnes x M! Reader

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x M! Reader

Fandom: Marvel

Warning(s): slight cussing, mention of hard pp

Request: yes/no

Plot: Reader is a sibling to Wanda Maximoff. Has the same abilities as her. Takes place after Endgame, but there will be flashbacks. Loosely inspired by Touch by Little Mix

Notes: so, this is a long fic since I kept on writing. I wrote this at 1 so if it’s cringey y’all know why. Please enjoy and vote :)

You and Bucky’s relationship was… strange to say the least. You guys weren’t dating, yet you guys were all touchy and cuddly. Neither of you guys knew when it had all started and if left Steve confused as this Bucky wasn’t known to be all touchy and stuff. Sam was amused and your sister, Wanda, would just smile at you. In her mind, she knew that you found the right person for you as she had with Vision.

~•~

You and Wanda were in the backseat of the van sitting in silence. You could read in her mind that she felt bad about putting Vis in the ground, but it has to be done so you guys could leave. Ever since the Lagos incident, you had stayed locked in her room with her trying to help her feel better (with some help from Vision of course). The van came to a halt as Clint told you guys that you were at the airport.

You guys stepped out of the van and saw the rest of the team. Sam, Bucky, and Steve were all there, looking safe. You smiled at Steve, as you guys were basically best friends since you joined the Avengers and he helped you and Wanda deal with the loss of your guys’ brother, Pietro. You turned your head in the direction of the little blue car, seeing Bucky far from the group. When you guys locked eyes, you felt an excitement you hadn’t felt in a while.

As you stared into his eyes, all time seemed to stop. All Bucky could think of was how beautiful you looked as the sun hit your face. “Oh! And I know you also! Your her brother.” The man, who you had come to known as Scott (who was asleep the whole ride) exclaimed pointing to you and your sister. Both of you just have a small smile to him. Bucky was a little mad that your attention had been diverted somewhere else, but he guessed introductions were necessary.

When introductions where over, it was time to change. Before anyone else could, you and Wanda called dibs on the van. To say some weren’t mad was an understatement. It was going to be uncomfortable changing outside for the others. And to add salt to the wound, the both of you giggled as you guys got into the van to change. “Godammit, Wanda and (y/n) are always quick. Those troublemakers.” Clint grumbled quietly. Bucky just smirked slightly, finding it pretty amusing on how mischievous both of you were, especially you.

Your suit was designed to be like your sister’s. You had a trench coat, leather jeans, gloves and boots like her, except that your chest piece was kind of like a jacket, zipping up. You always left it a little open though. When Bucky saw you when you stepped out of the van, he was blushing furiously. He knew the times were different, but he wasn’t prepared to see you dressed so… nicely. You turned over to see Bucky standing stiff and you just gave him a quick smile and waved. You on the other hand, liked the way the silver from his metal arm popped with the dark colors he wore.

Once your teams were assigned, you went with Bucky and Sam to your guys’ hideout. Bucky was walking stiffly, not trying to make his boner obvious. You, as oblivious as always, took this as nervousness, and, in an effort to calm him, you grabbed his hand and squeezed it lightly. If Bucky hadn’t been a mess by now, he definitely was one as of now.

‘Fuck fuck fuck, go to your calm place Barnes. Don’t make it obvious’ he repeated in his mind, trying to make his boner go down. Once he made it to the lookout place with you guys, he let out a loud sigh he didn’t know he was holding in. “Geez, can you sigh any louder?” Sam complained. Bucky just rolled his eyes at the remark. You simply giggled and said, “Easy Wilson, he’s a newbie to your sass.” He smiled slightly, thankful for you standing up for him.

All three of you were looking out the window until you guys saw a… person swinging towards you? Either way, all three of you started running. You heard a window crash and punches being thrown. “You have the right to remain silent!” Said the person, who you came to deduce as a boy yell. You rolled your eyes, clearly telling he was on the younger side. Why Tony would bring a child was beyond your imagination but hey, it was Tony after all and he didn’t really think things through to begin with.

You turned around and saw a clear shot, so you powered a hex ball that you threw towards him. He barely dodged it, so you decided to keep him distracted by repeatedly throwing them. Using that distraction, Sam was able to kick the boy. The plan backfired on you guys as he was making your way towards Bucky, who was standing near a ledge. With your quick thinking, you blocked the boy’s kick, which caused you and Bucky to break the glass and fall. Bucky wrapped his arms tightly around you as you fell and landed on his back with a thump. You opened your eyes and were met with Bucky’s.

“Well this is awkward.” You said while smiling lightly. He smirked and simply said, “It’s a good kind of awkward. What you both hadn’t expected was for web kid to web you guys together, in that exact position, with you straddling Bucky’s waist. ‘Oh no’ Bucky simply thought, hoping he wasn’t a roused down there. Sam eventually got webbed down there along with you guys. The kid explained how he had to impress Tony and some other stuff which you barely paid attention to. As he was about to shoot a web, Sam summoned redwing to drag the kid out of the window.

“You couldn’t have done that sooner?”

“I hate you”

~•~

You hadn’t expected to fight against your friends, but if it was for a good cause, then so be it. You saw Bucky struggling to fight a man in a panther costume. As Black Panther (you had learned his name due to his costume) was about to slice Bucky’s neck, you summoned your powers to stop the attack, which was very close to Bucky’s neck, and threw Balck Panther towards a crate.

You locked eyes with Bucky and simply nodded. He smiled back and gave you a thumbs up. From then on, you guys stuck together in the battle looking out for each other. You and Bucky hid behind a truck as Rhodey launched missiles towards both of you. Once both of you were hidden, you guys discussed your teams next move. You had come to the conclusion that Steve and Bucky where to leave in the quinjet and the rest of you would stay. To say Bucky was pissed was an understatement. He was furious that you had decided to stay.

You looked into his eyes one last time and pulled him into a hug. “Listen Bucky, you need to go and stop this doctor. You and Steve are the only ones who can do it. Trust me. Once the missions over, come back for me. Only after it’s finished though.” You said, trying to make him understand. “I promise, (y/n) Maximoff.” He whispered into your ear. You pulled back and cupped his face. He looked like he was about to cry, not wanting to loose another friend. You leaned in and kissed his cheek. He smiled brightly and with that, you got up to help your sister fight off the others.

~•~

Your mind felt hazy as you woke up. You looked around and saw that you were in the quinjet. You squinted your eyes, as your last memory had been of The Raft.

You had it the worst. They hosed you down with cold water and dressed you in clothes that got wet easily. And in addition, they made you wear a shock collar and straight jacket. Your sister was treated a little more fairly, which you were glad about. As long as she was safe it was alright. When Steve has found you, he was beyond pissed. He considered you one of his closest friends and seeing you like this had him seeing red. He had found you in a fetus position lying down on the floor, shivering from the cold. Your memories after that were blurry and you passed out again in the quinjet.

When you woke up, you turned your head and saw Steve and Wanda sitting in the chairs next to your bed waiting for you to wake up. “S-Steve?? …Wanda??” You croaked our, your voice raspy from the pressure of the shock collar. Wanda, after hearing you speak, got up from her chair and rushed to your side and holding your hand. Steve went to go call out for a nurse to let them know you were awake. The nurse came in along with Steve and checked on you to see if you needed more medical attention.

After reading your vital signs and making sure you were okay, she explained to you that you were in Africa, in a country named Wakanda. She told you that you were safe here, as it was hidden from the world, and, you should regain more of your voice in a few days. After she left, Wanda explained what happened after the airport. Apparently there were more Winter Soldiers and the doctor had been apprehended, but at the cost of the disbandment of the Avengers (and Bucky’s arm).

You frowned, seeing as the Avengers had become your family after you lost your parents and your brother. Steve was up next and he told you that Bucky went into ice again. He also explained how stubborn Bucky was being before it. Apparently, he didn’t want to start until he had seen you. They explained that you weren’t awake yet and that he would be allowed to visit after. But oh boy, was he one stubborn man. You smiled lightly. “They got fed up with him so they finally let him visit. He looked sad seeing you in that bed, (y/n). He told me to tell you that he also got you those flowers.” Steve said, pointing to the vase next to you.

The flowers were beautiful. It was a vase filled with sunflowers, which Bucky chose because they reminded him of when you guys met. The sun that shined on your face making you glow beautifully. You smiled, hoping Bucky was doing alright

~•~

A few months had passed and you had moved in with Bucky in a hut near the plains. It was beautiful whenever the sun would set. During that time, you became best friends with Shuri who at this time was helping you design a new costume. The sun had set and you were making your way back home.

When you had moved in with Bucky, the first few days were pretty awkward. Seeing as there was one bed, you guys had to share it seeing as both of you didn’t want the other to sleep on the floor. During the night, you had ended up cuddling into each other’s embrace. Your head on Bucky’s chest and his arms wrapped around you. Needless to say, it was pretty awkward when you guys woke up in the morning.

There was a lot of blushing at first, both of you trying to stutter out an apology. You guys eventually got up and decided not to speak on it. But again that night, you guys ended up on the same position. Eventually, that became your guys’ go to sleep position.

“Are you comfortable Bucky?”

“Of course doll”

~•~

This brought you back to the present day. Apparently it had been 5 years since Thanos snapped and it was now 2023. You were thankful that your friends were able to reverse it, but you suffered with the losses it took. Natasha has been a good friend of yours also. She trained both you and your sister in hand to hand combat and would always have girls (and one boy) night every Friday which consisted of you guys putting on a cheesy rom com or an action movie. How you wished you could go back to those times when life was simple.

Well, Steve did. He was able to go back to Peggy (which you didn’t agree with, since Peggy got to move on and live her new life). You would go back, but you now had Bucky, and you wouldn’t go back in time just to mess that up. On to you and Bucky. You guys were sitting in the dock outside of Stark’s house. Both of you sitting in a comfortable silence with your head on his shoulder and your hands entertwined.

“(y/n), what are we?” Asked Bucky softly. “I don’t know James.” You responded with the same softness. He turned his head towards you and said, “I think boyfriend would suit you great. If that’s what you’d like of course.” Bucky said, staring into your eyes and blushing. “I’d love that. We could find a nice apartment and move in there. What do you say Buck?”

“Of course doll”

~•~

It had been 3 years since the snap. You and Bucky were now engaged and it’s as if the touching had escalated since your engagement. Both of you would always be holding hands or if kisses were exchanged, your guys’ hands would roam somewhere else. You were currently with Wanda, about to tell her about your engagement in a coffee shop. She was talking about how she had a plan to help bring Vision back with the help of a woman named Darcy Lewis.

You were happy for her as since when she came back, she hadn’t gone back into the depressed state she was in before. She had learned to accept his death and know that there could be a way to bring him back. ‘Okay this is it. Just tell Wanda and she’ll be excited about it.’ You repeated to yourself.

“Wanda, I have to tell you something.” You said, mustering up the courage. “Your engaged to Barnes aren’t you?” She said with a smirk. “You read my mind, didn’t you?” You said, laughing quietly. “That and the ring was making it obvious.” She said smiling. “I wanted it to be a surprise, but this works as well.” You said giving her a big smile. “Well dear brother, just know I’m happy for you. Now, (y/n) Maximoff-Barnes has a nice ring to it. Or are you just gonna go (y/n) Barnes? Oh! Or maybe (y/n) Barnes-Maximoff?” She said, not being able to hold in her laughter. You joined her, laughing your butts off in the cafe.

~•~

Today was the day. Today you would marry James Buchanan Barnes. Your soulmate. The man who was there for you whenever you messed up. You loved him with all your heart. You had chosen Wanda as your maid of honor (obvi), and the others consisted of Pepper, Valkyrie (who refused to wear a dress which was fine, as you guys got her the flashiest tux), and Laura. Bucky’s groomsmen consisted of Steve who was the man of honor (time travel cause Bucky wouldn’t have it a different way) Sam (who was reluctant at first, but eventually gave in), Thor and Clint.

You guys had planned the wedding to be small as both of you guys weren’t big on big weddings. The colors were a mix of white and pink. You were nervous to say the least. Sure, you wanted to get married to Bucky, you were just worried about how the wedding was gonna play out. Eventually, the time had come to walk down the aisle. You were walked out by Stephen Strange per your request. He had a become a father figure to you, as he helped you control your magic more and eventually you guys became great friends and he claimed you as his “son” seeing as he didn’t want any real “rascals” as he put it.

So here he was, your adoptive father walking you to your new life. There he was, standing in a grey suit with a white shirt, pink vest and tie. It was a struggle to get Bucky to agree to that as he was used to wearing dark colors. As you made it to the altar, your eyes locked an never broke eye contact. Both of you in your own world not paying attention to the priest. Eventually, you guys exchanged your vows and were officially married. You wondered how you were gonna tell Stephen about how soon you and Bucky were gonna adopt, but that’s a story for another time. You don’t want grandpa having a heart attack, do you?

AAAAAANNNNNNNDDDD ITS DONE. WOOO THIS WAS A LONG ONE. IM SORRY IF ITS CRINGEY I WROTE THIS AT 1AM. As always please vote if you guys enjoyed. Love you guys!

[winterhawkremix]

The time has come!

The collection has been opened up and all of the fics we have received are now available to be read... except no one knows who wrote what!

Here’s the full list of all the remixes that were created for this year’s Winterhawk Remix in alphabetical order. There are 18 fics in total, so that should keep you all going for a while, and maybe you’ll rediscover some old favourites when you see what has been remixed!

Note that, while we’ve included ratings, to conserve space, we have not included tags, so make sure you check them out when you click through! Fic responsibly, folks.

And now, without further ado...

Go forth and read!

[Remix of] Is That The Fangs I Get? (Rating: Teen) A remix of @downwarddnaspiral’s Is That the Fangs I Get? “He does know, right?” “Know what?” “That I’m a vampire.” “Oh! Yeah. He’d have to, right?” Behind Bars (On The Other Side Remix) (Rating: Explicit) A remix of @captn-sara-holmes’s Behind Bars If Clint had known that hooking up with his cellmate would lead to escaping prison, making it all the way to Wakanda without being recaptured, and convincing King T'Challa and Captain America to let him stay once he got there, then he'd...well, he'd probably still have kissed the guy. Bucky was smoking hot, after all. Clint just really hopes he doesn't get mad when he finds out that Clint's been telling everyone he's Bucky boyfriend. Bottom of the Sea (just don’t go without me remix) (Rating: Teen) A remix of @verdantmoth’s bottom of the sea It was on his way out that he saw it. It looked pretty innocuous, like a bedroll or someone's discarded coat, but he knew it as soon as he saw it. His mom's had looked the same way, too long unworn and faded around the edges, but still silky smooth and beautiful in the right light. Clint limped over and grabbed the skin, draping it over his arms as best he could, trying not to touch it too much with his hands and the crusted-in blood under his fingernails. By Faith Alone (Rating: Teen) A remix of @badacts’ sola fide Bucky's daemon knows full well what he wants, but it's going to take a while for his head to get onboard with his heart.

Fractured, a Splintered Remix (Rating: Explicit) A remix of @flawedamythyst’s Splintered Clint touches something mystical at Dr. Strange's place and next thing Bucky knows, there are four extra Clints running around. He takes it upon himself to gather them up and help them come to some important realizations about the world. You know. Sexually. I dreamed I held you in my arms (Rating: Teen) A remix of @fadedsepia’s Like Sunshine He’s just about managed to focus on the mission, mentally reviewing the details of the target, when Clint strolls out of the bathroom, long and lean and — “You’re wearing that?” James finds himself saying. Clint stops short as he loops the purple aid around his ear and presses the earmold in, sky-blue eyes wide and startled. “Yeah? Why — is there something wrong with it?” James can’t help himself, his eyes wandering the slow course from head to toe. The dress shirt is mustard-yellow, linen so fine that it’s practically transparent. The collar is unbuttoned almost midway, showing the sharp jut of Clint’s collarbone and a slice of freckled chest below. The residual steam from the shower is already making the fabric cling to Clint’s incredible musculature. It’s fucking obscene. i hope i'll see you when it's light (the remix) (Rating: Teen) A remix of @nightwideopen’s i hope i’ll see you when it’s light After the fifth time they sleep together, Clint knows he’s in too deep. I Still Choose You (The Public Domain Remix) (Rating: Teen) A remix of @1000-directions’ i don’t have a choice (but i still choose you) Clint really didn't intend to do anything more than make a joke, but when his stupid 'soulmate' comment gets posted on social media, he ends up in a fake relationship with the one person he wishes really were his soulmate. Just Being Neighbourly (The Remix) (Rating: Teen) A remix of @mariana-oconnor’s Just Being Neighbourly Bucky can’t remember the last time he worked this hard to get somebody’s attention. He lowered the beaters into the mixing bowl with the speed setting turned up a little too fast, making his batter fling up in tiny flecks. “Jesus, again? What are you baking for now?” “Shut up, Stevie, and hand me the vanilla, damn it.” Make You Feel At Ease (Rating: General) A remix of @tintedglasses’ tell you truth, but never goodbye Just because it was Memorial Day and things in the past had definitely not been as kind to Bucky as they should have been didn’t mean that Steve needed to worry. But he also knew that man deserved a whole lot more good than that world had decided to give him. Novel Recognition (Rating: Teen) A remix of @lissadiane’s Blame It On Bad Luck Bucky tries to ignore the sudden change, the words that push to the surface of his skin some time between getting off work and getting Steve’s rail-thin ass up the stairs without falling or bruising any more of his best friend’s ribs, but… Why the fuck would it show up now? Bucky Barnes finally has a soulmate; someone he knows, but has yet to meet. Organic Chemistry (the remix of Improper Fractions) (Rating: Explicit) A remix of @cloud--atlas’s Improper Fractions Natasha's got a hot new roomate, and Clint's got a staring problem. The guy's a science teacher for fucks' sake. But if Clint doesn't get to suck his dick, he might actually die. Personal Security (Let's Go Steal Ourselves a Remix) (Rating: Teen) A remix of @kangofu-cb’s Personal Security Whatever his intentions, right now Clint’s a thief and a liar, and Bucky has worked hard to leave this kind of life behind him. It wouldn’t be fair to make a move right now. Push and Pull (Rating: Mature) A remix of @flowerparrish’s hey there, demons Bucky really wasn't expecting to see his one night stand at work the next day. right here, empty for days [a Written On My Heart remix] (Rating: Not Rated) A remix of @supervillainny’s Written on My Heart Soulmarks are funky lil' things. He can’t feel the lines on his skin, doesn’t know they’re there until he spots them. (Sometimes he thinks that’s a bit of a fluke on fate's part. What happens if ya miss ‘em? Or ya can’t see ‘em? Maybe fate knows though, which ones are meant to be seen.) safe and sound (finally safe remix) (Rating: Teen) A remix of @loonyloopylisa’s Finally Safe “I’m so sorry,” Clint says and it feels inadequate, but he doesn’t know what else to say. He thought he had a rough time waking up in that HYDRA cell, but at least he woke up somewhere else. He can’t imagine what it would be like to wake up in the same place he went to sleep, knowing that there’s no one else out there for him. “It wasn’t rare,” Bucky says, ducking his head slightly. “It was the thirties and healthcare wasn’t great and so it wasn’t rare for people’s soulmates to die before either of them reached twenty-one.” Bucky swallows hard again, his voice the quietest it’s been when he says, “But I guess I just never thought that it could happen to me.” susurrus (the one touch to know remix) (Rating: Teen) A remix of @drgrlfriend’s A Murmur in the Trees Sam Wilson has a nice place. It’s also conveniently located across the street from a small park with several old, heavily-in-leaf trees with an excellent vantage of his windows. Clint, settled high in the canopy in the vee between two sturdy branches, watches a weary, limping Cap arrive fresh from the hospital through binoculars. It’s embarrassing that this is what his life has come to. take a snapshot (dirty laundry remix) (Rating: Explicit) A remix of @thescarletwitch’s Take a Snapshot (If It Makes You Feel More At Home) You know this is basically soft porn, right?” Clint murmurs with a sly grin, cupping his own dick through his pants before shaking his head and laughing. Clint, like Clint Barton. Like the Avenger. Fuckin’ Hawkeye, for fuck’s sake. The not-so-secret love of Bucky’s very gay life. “Nothing soft about it,” Bucky mutters to himself. Clint and Bucky get dirty at the laundromat.

-

Author reveals will take place on 30th June. Until then, have fun reading and enjoy the mystery!

[thebestpersonherelovesbucky]

A Flower, A Note, A Secret

Summary: Bucky Barnes gets to school and finds a flower and a note taped to his locker. He figures it’s someone setting him up. Then again...it might be from someone wonderful.

Characters: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 1.2k

Tags: high school, mentions of recreational drug use, fluff

written for @captain-rogers-beard​‘s  Flex Your Writing Muscles Challenge 

Prompt: The language of flowers, pajamas, a secret passageway

Bucky stops short right there in the middle of the hallway. Taped to his locker is a yellow flower. With it, an envelope--his name scrawled across it in messy handwriting. 

People are staring at him. Some giggling. Some impatiently. Some shocked. Probably because Bucky Barnes, their resident charity case and outcast has a flower and a note on his locker. It’s probably some sick joke. Just another asshole in this insufferable school trying to fuck with him.

With all those eyes on him, Bucky plucks the flower off, gives it a sniff, and then opens the envelope. Inside, is a folded up piece of paper. Written on it, is the name of the flower and what it means. 

Yellow Chrysanthemum = Secret admirer.  Meet me behind the locker room after 9th.

Not that many people know about that room. An old weight room, Bucky thinks. Shield Preparatory School’s own secret passageway. Bucky’s gone back there to get high when he just needs to get away from all these snobs.

When the two buddies he does have in school--Natasha and Clint--get wind of it, neither of them are willing to let him miss this opportunity. 

“You gotta go,” Clint urges. “Maybe someone’s gonna ask you to prom!”

Bucky scoffs. “Doubtful. I’m gay. Which fucking guy here is gonna ask me to the prom?”

“What about Sam Wilson?” Natasha suggests. “He’s a cool guy.”

Captain of the baseball team, student body president, and member of the LGBTQ Alliance Club. 

He is a cool guy. For all the complaining Bucky does about most of the student population, there are a few exceptions and he’s one of them. Bucky had quite the crush on him last year. There’s only one problem.

“He’s already going with Maria Hill,” Bucky says. “Besides, what would Sam Wilson want with a guy like me?”

Both of them punch him in the arm, and since they’re on either side of him, it means both arms get punched. 

“Ow!” he exclaims, even though that really didn’t hurt. “Totally unnecessary.”

“You’re going,” Clint says. “You’re not talking your way out of it.”

Flower in hand, Bucky sighs. He doesn’t really want to admit it, not out loud anyway, but there’s a part of him that really does want to go. He’s sort of dying to find out who’s behind this. But there’s an even bigger part that’s dreading it. Because it wouldn’t be the first time that someone’s fucked with him.

He’s been a target in this damn school since the first day he came to it. He’s a nobody. Just a kid from a public school who wrote an essay that was good enough to earn a scholarship. Which meant assholes like Brock Rumlow and Helmut Zemo, kids of very powerful alumni, decided to make him their personal victim. Whether that meant punching bag or verbal harassment, they’ve been on his case for the past three years. 

If this flower came from one of them or one of their friends, and they make a laughing stock out of him, Bucky’s not so sure he’ll get over it.

“What if...” His voice cracks. “What if it’s a joke?” Bucky keeps his eyes on their lunch table. “What if it’s one of--”

“If it’s one of those assholes,” Natasha says, “I’ll rip off their dicks and make them choke on it.” 

“If it’s big enough,” Clint adds.

The remark, while so totally absurd, makes Bucky laugh so hard he nearly falls out of his chair. Neither of them is actually capable of such a thing, but they truly mean they’ll kick some ass if someone is fucking with him. 

Which is the only reason he says, “Okay. I’ll go.”

By the time 9th period is over and Bucky’s on the way to the locker room, he’s starting to wish he just stayed home in his pajamas today. His heart is in his throat. Pounding. So hard he can hear his pulse thudding in his ears. 

Just in case, Natasha and Clint are waiting for him right by the door--his backup. His bodyguards, he likes to think of them as, even though he’s very capable of throwing a few good punches if need be. More than capable. Just because he’s in drama and writes for the literary magazine instead of making touchdowns or three-pointers doesn’t mean he’s out of shape.

Bucky sucks in a deep breath and goes into the room.

At first glance, there doesn’t seem to be anyone there and he’s sure he’s been had. Then someone stands.

“B-Bucky?”

Bucky nearly falls over when he sees who’s there. For a second, he actually thinks it is a joke because there’s no way that Steve “All American” Rogers, quarterback and captain of the football team and artist and going to Yale next year and homecoming king and probably soon-to-be prom king, left him a flower that means secret admirer. 

Not only is the idea of Steve being his secret admirer just crazy, there’s no way Bucky’s that lucky. He’s had a crush on Steve since he met him when he tutored him in history. 

Out of all the people he’s met that aren’t Natasha and Clint, Steve is his favorite. He’s most decidedly not an asshole. In fact, he’s the opposite. He’s kind and sweet and both shy and social at the same time. Everyone likes Steve and those who don’t are total assholes who Steve hates right back. 

“Steve?” he questions. “Did you--” He lifts the flower. Remembers that Peggy Carter’s locker is right next to his and this is probably meant for her. “Sorry I, uh, I thought this was for me.” Bucky hands it back to him. “I guess you want this back.”

“What?” Steve shakes his head. “No, I...” A blush fills his entire face. “It’s for you. From me. I’m...” He scratches the back of his head. Shifts from foot to foot. “I’m sorry. This looked a lot romantic in my head.”

“Wait, I’m...confused.”

“Well, when I pictured asking you to prom, I thought this would be super cute, having you come to the secret room and now I’m looking around and it looks creepy as fuck and, Jesus, Steve, you suck at this. I’m sorry. Sorry, just forget about it, I’m such an asshole.”

Bucky lets out laugh that echos through the room. “Steve Rogers, are you asking me to the prom?”

“I, uh...that was the idea.” Steve sighs. “I...would you want to go with me? I understand if you don’t, I can’t imagine why someone as awesome as you would want to go with me.” 

“What?!” Bucky shrieks. “I’ve had a crush on you since day one!” Face flushing, Bucky can’t believe he just said that out loud. 

“You...really?” Steve blinks a few times and then his jaw drops. “I’ve had a crush on you, too! Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He laughs and drops a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “If you’re really asking me to the prom, my answer is yes!”

“Y-yes?” Steve's mouth tugs itself in this adorable smile. “You wanna go with me? Really? Like, not just as friends, as...maybe more? If you’d...maybe wanna go get some pizza beforehand? I mean, like, this weekend?”

“You mean, a date?”

“Uh...yeah.” Steve nibbles his lip and, seriously, how is it fair that everything this guy does is adorable?

“I’d love to, Steve.”

Steve, stepping closer, gently cups Bucky’s cheek in his big, athletic and artistic hand. He looks like he wants to kiss him. 

“I hope you know,” Steve murmurs, leaning in closer, “I’m gonna get you more flowers.”

And he seals that promise with a soft, tender kiss.

[gaystreetsmarts]

I posted 2,852 times in 2021

595 posts created (21%)

2257 posts reblogged (79%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 3.8 posts.

I added 1,575 tags in 2021

#0 - 93 posts

#firefam - 696 posts

#jatp - 338 posts

#911 spoilers - 123 posts

#911 liveblog - 97 posts

#firefam 126 - 61 posts

#lulu watches tw - 45 posts

#911 on fox - 44 posts

#buddie - 42 posts

#lulu watches teen wolf - 36 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#anyway eds has recognized that bucks receiving love language is words of affirmation and he is committed to making sure that buck is loved

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Buck: It's better that I get hurt than any of you! You all have people waiting for you at home, people who love you and rely on you!

Eddie: Oh? So our marriage means nothing to you??

Buck: Wh-

194 notes • Posted 2021-05-25 03:09:54 GMT

#4

omg cant wait til the 118's turnout coats say nash, wilson, han, han, buckley-diaz, & buckley-diaz. shit's gonna be confusing as fuck and i love it

474 notes • Posted 2021-05-27 03:00:22 GMT

#3

Imagining a post-shooting scene of:

Lena Bosko hears about Eddie getting shot - they aren't really friends anymore, haven't been since Eddie got caught street-fighting and that whole fiasco, but when she hears the news, she figures she should go visit the hospital anyway.

Except, when she gets there, Eddie still hasn't woken up yet. The secretary simply points her back towards the waiting room where all she's met with are the Wilsons and Buckley. And a woman with dark, curly hair who Lena's never seen before, so she figures she's waiting for someone else.

She chats with Hen and Karen for a minute, before they have to head out to pick up Denny from school. Their departure leaves it pretty awkward because the last time she saw Buckley, she was pretty sure he hated her guts because his best friend had gotten a new bestie (though that had never actually happened in her mind, and she knows it hadn't really in Eddie's either. Men and their insecurities getting the best of them).

After about ten minutes of sitting next to Buck - because that's what he likes to be called, she remembers enough from Eddie's billions of rants and tangents surrounding the guy - her scrolling through her phone and not reading any of it, him simultaneously bouncing his knee and tapping it over and over again, she desperately tries to fill the silence.

"So did you and Eddie ever actually get your shit together and admit you're in love with each other, or what?"

Well, she probably could've come up with something better than that.

She looks up at Buck as he freezes. She hears the sound of something falling behind her, but she's too busy watching the way Buck is opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water to pay too much attention to it.

Except then - then, Buck swallows like his heart in his throat, before he raises a shaky hand and gestures past her, and she turns to see its directed towards the curly-haired woman - who is now staring at them, her own eyes wide, and her phone on the ground between her feet.

"Um. Lena," Buck says, his voice trembling. "Meet Ana. This is Eddie's girlfriend."

Oh.

Shit.

508 notes • Posted 2021-07-29 22:27:33 GMT

#2

Absolutely obsessed with the way that every once in a while 911 makes an episode to be like "hey just in case you forgot - everyone here is so fucking stupid" love that for them

854 notes • Posted 2021-05-12 19:00:46 GMT

#1

okay so we’ve all talked about how alex needs to come up with a nickname for willie as retaliation for “hot dog” right, so consider this: he tries so hard. and for so long. to come up with something. for MONTHS, willie calls him hot dog, and alex is just like “oh yeah...? uh? car - um.... traffic... uh...” and he just cant think of anything for the life of him

and then FINALLY he comes up with something. willie’s like “hey, how was your day, hot dog?” and alex replies “i don’t know, how was yours, speed bump?” and it just comes out. and as soon as it does, he lights up and he gets so excited and proud of himself like !!!! while willie just stares at him like oh my GOD hes so cute hes so cute

877 notes • Posted 2021-02-14 02:41:14 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[looking-for-another-world]

Not Alone

summary: Bucky spends Christmas alone at the compound. Or nah?

pairing: Bucky x reader

warnings: 18+, tiny bit of angst, mentions of family toxicity, cursing, explicit smut, dirty talk, like one allusion to reader being plus-sized, soft!bucky, really sappy - you have been warned

words: 6321

a/n: This is my entry for @honeyhan-123​‘s HOLIDAY SPIRIT WRITING CHALLENGE. I had the prompt “Finding the perfect Christmas tree / decorating it” and looking back, I might have slightly diverted from that oops. This was so much fun to do though. This is literally my first finished piece of writing in years, so be nice to me, ok? Right, tmi. Anyways, this has gotten way out of hand in terms of how many words I wanted to write. I might make 3 separate files of it when I’m in the mood to figure out links, but for now here’s the entire fic in one. Enjoy! Also, I hope your 2020 is going to be amazing ❤💫🥂🎆

Prologue

As soon as Bucky stepped into the kitchen of the Avengers compound, his super soldier senses made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Something’s wrong.

It was Dec 23, one day before Christmas Eve, and everyone except him had gone away for the holidays. Clint was visiting Laura and the kids, accompanied by Natasha (apparently, the boys had been nagging their mom for a solid 2 months whether Aunt Tasha would be staying with them), Wanda and Vision were traveling around Europe, Tony had taken Pepper to some little island in the Caribbean Sea, and Steve and Sam had booked a cozy, remote cabin in the woods to go skiing, hiking, getting drunk (well, Sam at least) and most importantly, getting away from being the Avengers for a few days.

Initially, Steve had Friday book the trip for three persons, but Bucky had refused. This was the first Christmas since many years that he was starting to remember who he was, really was, and although Steve was pretty much everything he considered home, he had preferred to spend Christmas where he actually came from.

In the end, Steve had reluctantly agreed, not wanting to push his best friend, but insisting that they at least spoke to one another on the phone every day. And so, Bucky had spent his day wandering the streets of Brooklyn for hours, fulfilling his best friend duty on his way home and telling Steve how much everything had changed and yet, strangely, still felt familiar. He could hear Steve smile through the phone; he felt the same. That’s when Sam had burst through the door of the hut, screeching “All I want for Christmas is you” next to Steve’s ear and ruining the moment. Steve had said his goodbye, leaving to stop Wilson from inhaling another bottle of Eggnog, and Bucky had wished him good luck with the bird brain. He returned to the compound, more mentally than physically exhausted, and headed straight to the kitchen, suddenly remembering that he hadn’t eaten something in hours. And there it was: A small puddle of water on top of the counter, as if someone had taken something out of the fridge and put it there for a moment. Only that there was no one to do that. He was supposed to be alone.

It couldn’t have been him: his soldier and assassin training had left him with an urge to leave everything neat and tidied; no traces. Silently, he made his way back into the hallway, calling the elevator and going two levels down, to the first level that was officially “Avengers territory”. Going back up, he searched every floor without coming across anything suspicious. And then, as the doors of the elevator opened to the 18th floor with a slight swoosh, he sensed it: There’s someone else on this level. He tensed up. His super soldier hearing going into overdrive, he snuck along the dimly-lit corridor until he heard them: sounds coming from the last room to the left, the entertainment room, stacked up with books, movies, consoles, a pool table, anything you could think of to pass your free time. He tried to hear more intently. The person on the other side of the door barely produced sounds; all he could make out was their shallow breathing. Someone with a normal hearing wouldn’t even have caught up on it.

Bucky conjured up a blueprint of the room: even if he could get through the door unnoticed, there was no place to hide. The whole design of the room practically screamed: “Look who’s coming!” His only advantage was the element of surprise. Trying to calm down his nerves, he took a few deep breaths and braced himself. Not wanting to have his arms in a position he could easily be taken hold of in, he stepped back, raised his right leg and kicked the door down, storming inside, met by a piercing scream and a loud splash as the bucket of ice cream you had been holding met the ground.

“(Y/N)?!”

“What the hell?!”

“Why are you here?”

“I fucking live here in case you haven’t noticed! Why are you kicking the goddamn door down like I’m some HYDRA agent trying to slit your throat?”

“Because-”, Bucky stops, guilt washing over him. Guilt and anger with himself. Even HYDRA wouldn’t be so dumb as to blow their cover like that, and they’d do a bit more than get the kitchen counter dirty if they wanted to make their presence known. “Because I thought you were one.” His voice is low now, almost a whisper, his eyes unable to meet yours, fingers fumbling with the hem of the coat he didn’t have time to take off. And seeing him like this, you understood: He thought someone had intruded.

You let out the breath you were holding. “I’m sorry, Buck. I wasn’t thinking. I should have let you know about my change of plans and that I’d be spending Christmas at the compound.”

His ears perked up at that. “You are? I thought you were going to visit your family.” You smiled sadly and now that his mind and body weren’t overtaken by adrenaline anymore, he took in your state for the first time. You looked pale, your eyes red-rimmed, like you had been crying. You were wrapped in the navy-blue blanket twice your size that Wanda had given you for your birthday. It went all the way down to your ankles where the legs of your sweatpants were peeping through, showing just a small stripe of skin before the fabric of a pair of green fuzzy socks covered your skin again. The ice cream you had dropped started melting on the ground, slowly dampening part of the expensive rug the pool table stood on, which you didn’t seem to notice. “What happened?”

You let out a mixture between a snort and an unconvincing laugh. “I talked to my mom on the way to the airport. She started complaining about how much I’ve been letting them down this year, bringing up things I didn’t even think were an issue anymore, and how she hoped I would pull myself together this time, for the sake of Christmas and our family. So, I figured I’d probably have a more fun time being alone in my room and sleeping for like 2 weeks than I’d have being with them.” The last part was meant to sound casually, but Bucky didn’t miss the twitch of your lips and how your eyes started to gloss over again. He wanted to say something to comfort you, but his mind didn’t know where to start and so he just kept staring at you wordlessly, which you took as a sign of annoyance.

“Don’t worry. I won’t bother you with that shitty Christmas music or candy or anything of that kind. I’m not gonna ruin your alone time. Just pretend I’m not here.”

He frowned at that, then, and as his tongue still seemed to be tied, he did the only thing he felt was appropriate: He put your arms around you and hugged you, hard, all-consuming. “I’m not worried you’re going to ruin my alone time. I like having you around. I’m sorry your family are like that, when they’re the ones letting you down.”

You’d liked to reply to that, thank him for his sweet words, but you were sure you’d start crying again the second you stopped biting down on your lip. So you reciprocated the hug as best as you could; after all you were lacking Bucky’s strength. Bucky squeezed you shortly and let go, and when your eyes locked again, you couldn’t help but mirror his warm smile. Jesus, this guy certainly made you feel things. No surprise you were crushing on him so hard.

“We’d better clean this up”, Bucky said gesturing to the now empty ice bucket head and your eyes widened as you noticed the mess you’d made. “Shit!”. Tony had spent an insane amount of money on that carpet, even for his proportions. He’d shoot you to the moon for that.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.” Bucky jogged back to the elevator, returning a minute later with a wet cloth and a roll of kitchen towels which he handed to you. Getting to work, you suddenly became aware of how much closer than usually you two were. You could smell Bucky’s aftershave – something resembling cedarwood – watch the muscles in his arms flex as he tried to rid the fabric of its B&J make-over, study the stubble on his perfectly sculpted jaw, his hazelnut locks, his plump lips. Oh god, his lips. Just thinking about having those lips kiss every inch of your body got you worked up. Get a grip, for fuck’s sake!

“So you’re really planning on skipping Christmas? It’s your favorite holiday”, Bucky interrupted your thoughts, shooting you a glance to see you shrug your shoulders. “I don’t want to see my parents right now, and I can’t imagine celebrating Christmas on my own. So yeah, guess I’ll be taking a break from it this year.”

“You’re not on your own, though. You’re with me. We can celebrate.”

You felt a pleasantly warm sensation in your stomach which you tried to ignore, quirking an eyebrow at him instead. “You hate Christmas.”

“I don’t hate all of it, I hate what it’s become. I hate that most people care more about what useless shit is in their stockings or under the tree than about who they’re spending their time with. I hate how every shop starts putting up Christmas stuff before it’s even October. They don’t even call it “Christmas” anymore. I mean seriously, xmas? What’s that even supposed to mean?”

Despite yourself, a small giggle escaped you at how upset he could get about it all and realizing he had started ranting without wanting to, Bucky had to stifle a laugh as well. "Point I’m trying to make is ” he concluded “I wouldn’t mind spending Christmas with the right company.”

Oh, and that’s supposed to be me? Right company?“, you shot back. "Sure thing, doll. You’re like an expert on Christmas, I can’t go wrong with you. Also, I like having you around. ” He furrowed his eyebrows. “I’ve already said that, haven’t I?”

“Yeah, you have. But that’s okay, I like hearing it”, you laughed, your hand briefly touching his arm. You were becoming kind of needy, it appeared. Bucky didn’t seem to mind though, or at least he didn’t let it show.

Looking down, you noticed with an internal sigh of relief that the ice cream puddle had given way to the water and the kitchen towels. All that was left was a wet patch that would hopefully disappear overnight.

“Guess that’s as good as it gets”, you joked. “Thanks for helping me.”

“It’s the least I could do, after scaring the shit out of you.” He took the dirty towels from you. “Guess we’re Christmas buddies then” he grinned. It was surprising how excited he seemed to be all of a sudden, but you didn’t let yourself linger on that thought. “Well, as the official Christmas ambassador, I have to let you know that this place sucks. There’s not even decorations.”

That was true. The past weeks had been incredibly hectic, even more than in previous years, and since almost everyone would be gone over the holiday season anyway and Bucky had emphasized several times that having the tower turn into Santa’s village would most likely lift his dinner, rather than his spirits, Tony hadn’t bothered to put up decorations.

Bucky gave you an amused look. “I see you’re getting into it. Alright, what do we need?”

“You mean, like everything?”

“Yeah, like the ideal setting. Can’t be that difficult.”

You gave him a sceptical look. “Oh no, not at all. We just need the decorations, music, candy, ugly Christmas sweaters, stuff to bake cookies, a firepla-”

“Okay, okay, I take it back.” Bucky raised his hands in surrender. “This is too much. What’s the most important thing?”

“The tree”, you replied without thinking. “The tree is the most important, to me at least. When my dad used to tell me he’d be bringing the Christmas tree home tonight, I’d spend all day glued to the window of my room, waiting for his car to steer into the driveway. It’s the one thing we ever did as a family, all three of us, decorating the tree. Everything else would be pretty much Mum and me, since Dad would be out working. The tree is … it just wouldn’t feel like Christmas without it.”

Inadvertedly, your brain had walked down memory lane to pictures of baubles in gold and red and purple and every color of the rainbow, mingled with the scent of fir and your dad’s bass voice singing “Have yourself a merry little Christmas” to you while you were sitting on your lap, and suddenly another wave of sadness hit you and you had to fight back the tears that were starting to well up again. You swallowed thickly before looking back at Bucky and were met with an understanding look. He had noticed your struggle but chose not to bring it up again and you were grateful for that. Grateful for him.

There were a few beats of silence before the super soldier offered you a tentative smile and said: “So Christmas tree is your final answer?” Another giggle.

"That’s my final answer.”

Part 1

You woke up to a sky the color of granite. Gloomy light and heavy clouds. Your heart jumped a little in your chest at the prospect of another downfall of snow. What’s Christmas without snow, right? Too comfortable to get up right away, you snuggled back into your pillow and let your mind wander.

It was embarrassing, really, but thinking about spending the whole day with Bucky filled you with a mix of anticipation and nervousness you usually felt before first dates. Prior to your job interview last February, you had spent hours and hours hooked up on research about the people you might soon be working with – the fucking Avengers! -, but Bucky’s story, or at least what was known of it to the public, had fascinated and moved you the most. It was hard for you to wrap your head around how someone could endure the most appalling things you could possibly imagine, and that for decades. Someone like the ex-Winter Soldier could barely be human anymore, filled to the brink with hatred and disgust for the world and the people in it, that you were sure of. And then, when you got the job and got to know him – he was the exact opposite. Sure, he was careful and hard to read, especially at the beginning, but he was kind. He was funny. He was emphatic. He was a nerd. He was sweet. And when you moved in to the tower and the two of you spent more time together, your feelings towards him grew stronger, and you found yourself imagining waking up next to him, his lips on yours the first thing you taste in the morning. Cupping his cheek and watching his eyes crinkle when he flashes you his million-dollar smile. Stroking his hair while he reads his favorite passages out to you or rambles about how all the things he’s just discovering now are not quite as good as what they had back in the days, but some of them are not bad. Being pressed down by his weight as you get to explore all of his gorgeous body and find out what sounds he makes when he’s buried in you, filling you up, making you feel so good as you’re begging him not to stop because he’s hitting just the right spot and you never want to let go of him, so good, please Bucky, please don’t stop, oh God, I’m so close baby, fuck…

The loud buzzing of your phone jerked you out of your trance and made you sit up straight in your bed, your heartbeat thumping in your ears, cheeks heated, fingers you didn’t even remember putting there coated in your arousal. Breathing heavily, you stretched your neck to see who the caller was: Mum. Oh, hell no. In a sudden burst of resurging anger, you declined the call, threw your phone away from you and let yourself fall back against the headboard with an audible huff.

Finishing the job wasn’t going to happen after yesterday’s events started rolling in, so you forced yourself out of bed and into the shower, washing away the heat of your little daydream with water as cold as you could bear. Putting moisturizer on, you focused your thoughts on today. If Bucky still wanted to help setting up everything for Christmas, they should get started as soon as possible. An actual Christmas tree was a bit too much to ask obviously, but maybe they could find a fake one and some funny tree ornaments to go along with it? Sweaters shouldn’t be that much of a problem either, they practically threw them in your face around this time of the year. And the Christmas music could easily be taken care of by Spotify.

You started listing the essential ingredients for three or four kinds of Christmas cookies in your head when you left your room to get breakfast. Closing the fridge door, you tried to decide where and in which order to go to get everything you needed on time (or should you split up?) when you noticed the yellow, blue, pink and green dots on the cold metal surface, dancing around in a carefully studied rhythm like colorful fireflies. Frowning, you turned around.

The huge panorama windows were decorated with beautifully woven ice flowers up to almost half of their height and framed by several strings of Christmas lights, cheerfully blinking against the grey sky outside and bathing the living room area in a colorful hue. Now that you stepped closer, the living room looked different as well. The couches and armchairs were covered under thick and fluffy-looking plaids and pillows with different Christmas-themed motives; a very kind looking Santa Claus on one, a couple of reindeer holding cups of Eggnog and singing “Jingle Bells” on another and the slogan “Tis the season” in as much glitter as could be fitted on so small a space emblazoned on a third. There were decorations, too: a nutcracker next to the tv, an angel’s choir holding candles on one of the couch tables, a snowman, a sledge, a rocking horse, a squirrel in a scarf… You couldn’t even decide where to look first. Too preoccupied to take everything in, you didn’t notice Bucky’s presence until he cleared his throat. “Do you like it?” You turned around to meet him, dumbfounded and still trying to understand what was going on, even more so when you saw the sweater he was wearing: fir green and depicting a penguin wearing a Christmas hat. You let out an incredulous laugh. “Did- did you do all this?”

Bucky lowered his gaze briefly and gave you a sheepish smile. “Pretty much, yeah. I’d hoped you’d sleep in. Gave me enough time to set everything up.” Your mouth opened and closed, unable to find words. “I-“ “Wait!” he interrupted. “There’s more.” He outstretched a slightly shaking hand and seeing that you didn’t respond, hastily withdrew it. Finally though, your body and mind seemed to have rebooted, and you grabbed his hand with both of yours. It felt hot against yours, hot and slightly raw. Bucky shot a surprised look from your intertwined hands to your face and you could’ve sworn that his cheeks blushed slightly. Is this even real?

Squeezing your hands slightly, he walked past you and into the living room, pulling you with him. Around the corner, out of your line of sight, there was a slightly smaller lounging area with the best stereo sound system Tony could get his hands on and without tv, designed for the numerous occasions you fancied actually spending time with each other and being able to face each other when chatting or playing games instead of just staring at a huge screen in unison. Now though, the bean bags had been moved to the side and in the center of the room stood – a tree. Not just any tree, but a fir tree about 10 or 11 feet high, almost filling up the room with its size and emanating that unmistakable scent that always took you back to fond Christmas memories. Next to it, on the ground and on several of the bean bags Bucky had piled up a seemingly endless number of boxes containing Christmas baubles of all sorts, ranging from the traditional ones to typical Christmas motives, Disney characters, and even the most absurd things such as very small-sized fruits and vegetables.

You couldn’t remember when your heart had last felt so light and full. If Bucky’s hand hadn’t anchored you, you might have just floated up through the ceiling and into the sky. And why not? Who knew what else might be possible after all this had felt so much like a dream already? Giving yourself no time to think about overstepping boundaries and the like, you threw yourself into Bucky’s arms, feeling rather than noticing his strong arms instantly enveloping your frame. “Thank you.” Your voice was muffled because you had buried your face in the crook of his neck and because you were close to crying again. Sensing your state, Bucky started tracing soothing patterns on your lower back and mimicking his movements, your hands started stroking his broad shoulders. “My pleasure, doll.”

He held you like that for several moments, lightly swaying to and fro, taking deep breaths with you. And after a while, when you’d quieted down a bit, you noticed that not only your heart threatened to jump out of your chest; Bucky’s heart beat a lot faster as well, hammering against his ribcage so much that you could almost feel it against yours. You drew back a little so you could see his face and were met with a look you’d never seen on him before, a look that went straight to your groin. His hands tightened on your back, like he was afraid to let you go, and your nose lightly brushed his. And just as you were about to close your eyes… his phone rang.

The noise startled you so much that you jumped in his arms and Bucky let out an audible sigh. “That’ll be Steve. Be right back.” With that, he let go of you to grab his cell from the kitchen and you felt like someone had just emptied a bucket of ice water over you and snapped you back to reality. More than that, you did feel cold. Had your body grown used to the heat radiating off him so quickly? Also, and that was the most important: What the fuck did just happen?

Bucky returned about 10 minutes later and found you in almost the same spot where he’d left you, now sitting awkwardly on one of the empty bean bags, desperately trying to regain composure. His heart still fluttered from being so close to you, and as he wanted this day to be anything but awkward, he’d spent a good 7 of those 10 minutes away thinking about how to proceed. In a manner he hoped would come across as relaxed, he sauntered over to the closest bean bag and picked up one the boxes filled with baubles. “Soooo”, why was his voice so squeaky? “let’s get started, shall we?”

He couldn’t see your heart slightly sink in your chest because the magical moment had officially passed of course; he just had eyes for the warm smile you offered him in return. “Sure.” You got up to take hold of one the boxes as well when he remembered something. “Hang on.” You raised your head and could make out something slightly mischievous in his orbs. “I won’t be the only one wearing an ugly Christmas sweater.”

—

4 hours later, any sign of awkwardness or discomfort between the two of you had officially gone to the wind. As instructed, you’d put on the ugliest Christmas sweater you could find (an awful mix of pink and gold in the shape of a Christmas elf with actual bells that jingled whenever you moved), Bucky had put on some music and you’d gone about your business. At some point (probably after your fourth cup of cocoa with rum and Bucky’s third pint of Asgardian mead he’d snatched from Thor’s quarters), you decided to forego any sense of aesthetics and just put up as many ornaments as would fit on the tree. As a result, it now looked as if the slightest gust of wind would make it collapse on the spot, but you two were oddly proud of your work. Taking cocoa and mead with you, you decided to have a small break and moved over to the living room area.

There were a few beats of comfortable silence, Sinatra softly buzzing in the background. Then, out of the blue, Bucky asked you to tell him your favorite joke. You were too tipsy to question how he’d come up with that, so you pondered his request for a moment and then answered. “I hate Russian dolls. They’re so full of themselves.”

Bucky sat up on his spot of the couch and gave you an odd stare that made you wonder whether he’d understood you at all, and then burst out of laughter, almost spilling his drink in the process and making you laugh in return. You’d never really heard his laugh, just the occasional snort when he deemed something worthy of a reaction, but this was a sound made from the gods themselves and you could listen to it all day, every day, for the rest of your life.

Slowly, his fit came down to a low, melodious chuckle. “Honestly doll, sometimes I want to kiss you all over.” “Don’t hold back.”

The words had come out of your mouth before you could stop them. They didn’t remotely sound as teasing or nonchalant as you had meant them to. They sounded sincere, almost desperate. Because they were. And suddenly, as you watched Bucky’s expression falter, you felt remarkably sober again. Oh god.

Part 2

Carefully, Bucky stood up, moved over and sat down next to you. “Are you serious about this, (Y/N)?”

Heat crept up your skin, all the way from the swells of your breasts to your ears. You’d honestly never felt that put on the spot. Unable to answer, your gaze fixed the carpet, hoping that if you stared long enough, maybe it would do you a favor and swallow you whole. Bucky was now less than inch from you, close enough for you to smell his shampoo, his breath fanning the side of your face, making things only worse for you. Your heart sank deeper and deeper until you could feel it in your stomach, heavy like a rock. This day had been going so well. Why did you have to ruin it with your stupid inebriated brain? Stupid, stupid, stupid.

And then you felt his flesh hand cup your face, softly turning your head to meet his eyes. Those beautiful, cerulean eyes. “Because I’d really, really like to kiss you.” Frowning, you shook your head, your synapses refusing to process that bit of information. You swallowed several times before you found your voice again. “Please don’t mess with me, Bucky”, you heard yourself whisper, at which Bucky violently shook his head. “I promise.” And then his lips were on yours and you kissed him back.

It started out innocently enough, slow, tentative kisses, allowing the other to back out in case they changed their mind. Only that he didn’t back out like you thought he would. And you didn’t back out like he thought you would. Realizing how effortlessly your mouths pressed against each other, how right his lips felt on yours, you gradually grew bolder. You turned slightly to mirror his position and your hands went up to his face, feeling the stubble on his chin and jaw before carding through the silky strands of his locks at the back of his neck. One hand in his hair, you let the other explore more of his body as you felt up his biceps, his back, his chest abs. A content hum escaped his throat which only spurred you on. One hand in his hair and one bunching up the fabric covering his chest, you pressed yourself closer to him. His grip on your face tightened as he opened his mouth and his tongue caressed your bottom lip. Greedily, you welcomed him in your mouth and let out a deep sigh as your tongues met for the first time and the two of you fought for dominance over the other.

Bucky’s hands wandered down your body to the hem of your shirt and his lips soon followed suit. You let out a whimper when he sucked at the sensitive skin of your pulse point, determined to mark you. You’d never really liked hickeys, but this was different. You wanted everyone to see, see what had happened between the two of you. While your hands tangled in his hair, his slowly made their way under the fabric of your sweater, exploring the soft skin of your hips, your waist, your belly, cool on your right side, burning on your left.

It was so much more than you’d ever dreamed of, almost too much to bear, and yet his touches only made you more impatient, more needy, more desperate to have him. “Bucky…” It was barely more than a sigh, but Bucky’s head shot up at the sound and his eyes met yours. “What’s it, sweetheart? Talk to me” You took a moment to take him in, tracing his glistening bottom lip with your thumb. “I need you.” Bucky pressed his forehead against yours. “I need you too, doll. So much. That’s why I’m so scared of messing up with you.” You took his face in your hands again and pressed a kiss to his forehead, his eyes closing at the sensation. “There’s no way in hell you can mess up with me, James. Don’t hold back. Take me.” Bucky let out a shuddering breath. “Please.”

It was like a switch had been flicked. Bucky leapt forward and buried you under his weight, making you sink into the soft cushions. Kissing you even more passionately than before, he positioned himself between your legs. The bulge in his pants now clearly noticeable, he started grinding down on you and the friction made you pool with lust. You let out an audible groan that made Bucky’s cock twitch. Steadying himself with his metal hand, he clumsily lifted your shirt up your body with his right hand so the fabric bunched up over your breasts. Eager to assist, you arched your back to unclasp your bra and pulled it up as well. Bucky’s hand immediately reached out to palm the newly exposed skin while his tongue darted out to massage your already swollen buds. He went from left to right and right to left, making you stick your chest out as much as you could, before suddenly taking one nipple into his mouth and sucking greedily on it. You cried out in pleasure and his dark eyes went to scan your face, lip drawn in between your teeth, eyes pressed shut, your breathing getting heavier by the minute. Too mesmerized by the sight of you, he didn’t notice your hand that wasn’t tangled in his hair move from his back to the front of his pants until you massaged his erection through the fabric, running your palm up and down his impressive bulge. He let go of your breast to take a deep breath and used his right hand to feverishly rub your clothed pussy, causing you to yelp in surprise. Your hand gripped his wrist, urging him to slow down. “Don’t want to finish off like that. Need you inside me.”

Bucky’s answer was an appreciative growl. He stood up, freeing himself first from the sweater that was becoming increasingly hot and then from his jeans and boxers. His size was impressive, the tip swollen and glistening with pre cum and you couldn’t help but rub your thighs together in anticipation.

“Uh-uh. Let me take care of that sweetheart.” His voice was now a husky whisper that sent shivers down your spine. Agonizingly slow, he unbuttoned your pants and pulled them off you, groaning when he got a glimpse of your drenched panties. Sitting back on his haunches, he pushed your knees apart and ran his palms up the inside of your thighs, then softly ghosted over the purple cotton, before hooking his thumbs under the waistband. “Show me your pretty pussy, (Y/N).” In one swift motion, the piece of clothing was gone, and Bucky let out a low hiss at the sight of your wet folds. “Fuck, doll. You’re ven more beautiful than I imagined.” You were at a complete loss for words, but Bucky didn’t give you time to respond anyway. He took a hold of his erection and coated in in your juices, your overstimulated body jumping at the sensation, before locking eyes with you and carefully sliding his tip inside you. You both let out a needy whimper when he filled you up, going deeper and deeper, your pussy obediently swallowing him, until he bottomed out.

Bucky was still on his haunches, giving you time to adjust to him, intertwining his fingers with yours. “You okay?” You nodded. “You can move.” Bucky started thrusting in and out of you, accelerating his pace when it became obvious that you were in as much pleasure as he. Soon, he was mercilessly fucking you into the couch, snapping his hips forward and pulling out until just the tip remained inside you, and then repeating his actions, over and over and over again. When he used his metal hand to draw circles on your clit, you were a whimpering mess beneath him, uttering incoherent curses and multiple variations of his name. You felt the familiar sensation build up in your gut and squeezed his hand to hold off, but he wasn’t having it, only increasing his efforts. With a muffled scream, you came all over his dick, your whole body shaking from the intensity of it. The sight of you coming undone combined with your cunt convulsing around his dick pushed Bucky over the edge as well and his thrusts became sloppier as he painted your walls with his seed and then collapsed on top of you, both of you panting and bathed in sweat.

—

Your second time together was slow and gentle, taking all the time you now knew you had, making sure to leave no inch of your lover’s body unattended to. The third time was rough again, Bucky fucking you against the shower tiles, cold water pouring down on you because you’d accidentally changed the setting when Bucky had lifted you and neither of you had noticed. The times that followed took place in various places of the Tower; the pool table where Bucky had found you the day before, the kitchen island, Sam’s bed (which seemed to give him a particular kind of satisfaction), in several of Tony’s cars, at one of the panorama windows, your front against the shining outline of the city (and the fake ice crystals) while Bucky took you from behind, all the while whispering sinful things to you that drove you insane, how often he’d sat in his room fucking his fist to your image, your plump lips that were just made for his cock, your curves that made your entire body jiggle when he drove into you, that beautiful ass of yours, imagining your sweet voice begging him to make you feel good. After all, it appeared he’d thought about you as often as you had about him.

—

You woke up to a rose-tainted sky and soft kisses peppered across the back of your neck, your shoulders and along your spine. You giggled into your pillow. Bucky’s strands brushing your bare skin gave you a tickling sensation. “You’re up early.” Bucky hummed into the crook of your neck, making your skin vibrate. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about before heading out for my run.” You turned around to face him, his hair tousled, eyes still glossed over from sleep. Nobody should be allowed to look that gorgeous. “What is it?”

“Steve and Wilson will be back from their trip in a few hours and they will pester me about my crush on you and whether I’ve finally done something about it.” He rolled his eyes and your smile grew wider. “What are you going to tell them?” Bucky reached for your hand and gently squeezed it. “I’d like to tell them that I asked you out on a date and that you agreed, but that wouldn’t be entirely true, would it?” You quirked an eyebrow. “So you’re asking me for permission to lie to your best friend?” Bucky laughed at that, that kind of laugh that made his eyes crinkle. “Y/N, would you like to go out on a date with me?”

You tilted your head to the side. “Depends. Does that mean we’re gonna have to sleep in separate beds again?” Bucky raised your hand to his mouth and softly kissed your knuckles, then he stretched his head and planted a kiss on your forehead. “No way. What do you say?”

“Yes.”

[awake-dearheart]

SOS [w.w.]

Summary: Deadpool wakes up tied to a chair in a dark room. How did he get here? What will happen? Is it a freaky sex thing? Let’s find out!

Word Count: 2200

Warnings: Language, some small violence, mentions of Deadpool wanting to fuck people. You know, Deadpool things

A/N: Every time I write for Deadpool I think “I’m never doing this again” but then I remember how fun he is so I go with it. This is technically my entry for @afictionaladventure16‘s writing challenge and I am SO FUCKING LATE I’M SORRY. But it’s silly and funny and dumb. The prompt is in bold. Wade has two voices in his head. Italics is one, bold is the other. You’ll figure them out. Thankfully @jamesbuckybarnes-anon​ is better at moodboards than I am. If you like’d to be added to my permanent taglist, just send an ask!

“Son of a mother fucking ass bandit!”

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was a blinding headache. The second thing I noticed was I couldn’t see anything. I knew the headache couldn’t be a hangover. Super healing factor meant a super inability to get drunk. I had a vague memory of getting hit by something but for the life of me, I couldn’t remember what.

Oh, God. They hit us so hard we’ve gone blind. BLIND!

Calm yourself, please. We have accelerated healing. Any such blow would have resolved itself.

Then how do you explain the vast nothingness before us?

We have a bag on our head.

….Oh.

Suddenly, my bag was ripped away and tossed aside. The room I was in wasn’t much brighter than Bagland (trademark pending), but there was a small light in the far corner. I looked around for whoever stole my bag, but there was nobody. A metallic clicking sound was coming from somewhere behind me, but my desire to investigate and poke it with a stick was impeded when I realized I was tied to a chair.

“Great, just great,” I sighed. “This is definitely going to turn into a weird sex thing.”

Why is that always the first place your mind goes, Wade?

Have you met us?

Point made.

I tugged at the restraints, but they didn’t budge. I looked around again for something to cut me loose but the room was empty, except for me and whatever was making the mysterious ticking noise.

Maybe it’s a pipe bomb!

Why would it be a pipe bomb?

It’s an old internet reference. The kids will get it.

With no tools to cut me loose, I decided to resort to an old classic: hopping. I jumped and started moving my chair towards the light. If I could make it there I might be able to find a way out. Or shatter the light bulb and cut myself free. Either way. Before I could hop any more, a giant metal claw came out of the darkness and grabbed my head, slamming me into the ground.

“Well hello to you too, sunshine.”

“I’m glad to see that blow to the head hasn’t damaged your famous wit, Mr. Wilson.” As I laid on the floor, face smushed under Cable’s wildest fantasy, a shape emerged from the darkness. Giant metal tentacles stepped over me, carrying a short, dark-haired man.

Please be Alfred Molina. Please be Alfred Molina.

Hardly the time.

“Allow me to introduce myself,” he said. “My name is Dr. Otto Octavious.” He spoke with an accent that could make panties drop, but had a face that would bring them right back up.

“Let me guess, your friends call you Doc Ock?”

We are killing it with these references today.

Yes, even I must, as the youths say, give props.

We’re gonna work on that.

The doctor removed his claw from my face and used it to right my chair again. I shook my head and got my bearings back.

“The hospitality here is next level,” I said. “Really. Better than the Marriott in Time’s Square.”

“Charming, Mr. Wilson,” Otto drawled.

“I try to be. So, mind telling me what this is all about? If you’re after a ransom I have like $4 and a couple kilos of coke, but you’re gonna have to fight a blind old lady for the coke. And she’s a biter.” A door behind me opened and I heard several people enter.

“Ah, just in time,” Otto said. Five men joined the doctor in front of me and stared me down like a Backstreet Boys album cover.

“Meet the Sinister Six,” he said, pointing out each team member as he introduced them. “Maxwell Dillon, also called Electro. Sergei Kravinoff, known as Kraven the Hunter. Quentin Beck, aka Mysterio. Flint Marko, or Sandman. And Adrian Toomes, the Vulture.” I took my time regarding the men in front of me. Each of them had perfectly themed costumes and were looking at me like they wanted to rip me in half.

“Points for the original lineup but the team the game put together was way cooler,” I said. Mysterio took the giant fishbowl off his head and turned to Otto.

“What the hell is he talking about?”

“Pay him no mind, Mr. Beck,” Otto said, waving him off.

“I loved you in Bubble Boy,” I said simply.

“Mr. Wilson,” Doc interrupted. “It’s come to our attention that you are in possession of some very valuable information. And you’re going to give it to us.”

“And what information would that be, Octopussy?”

Wade, please do not antagonize them. Even with our accelerated healing, they could make things quite troublesome.

CALL HIM A PUSSY AGAIN!

“I have it on good authority that you’ve managed to infiltrate the Avenger’s tower not once, but twice.” The doctor stalked forward on his metal legs, bringing himself down to face me. “You’re going to tell me how we can get in undetected.”

“You’ll have to take that up with the author. By the time I gain consciousness I’m usually already inside.” Sparks shot from Electro’s fingertips as he stepped forward.

“Want me to loosen his lips?” he asked.

“That won’t be necessary, Mr. Dillon,” Otto said. He clickety-clacked behind me and came back with some kind of collar.

Here comes the weird sex stuff. I knew it.

I highly doubt that.

Otto moved over me and clamped a metal claw onto my thigh, shattering my femur.

“Mother fucker!” I groaned and rolled my head back, but as soon as he let go I felt my bone shifting back into place. “Is that all you’ve got? Some kidnappers you are.” The words had no sooner left my mouth when I felt the collar being fitted around my neck. The second it locked into place, my leg stopped healing. No more popping and shifting of bone, no more closing of surface wounds, nothing.

This is bad, big dog.

I agree, Wade. Without our healing factor we are in grave danger.

“A power dampening collar,” Octavious said. “Courtesy of our friends at The Raft.” He leaned in close again, this time so close I could smell his lunch. It was beef stroganoff.

“Here is what’s going to happen,” he threatened. “I’m going to leave the collar on you and let my team go to work. They will break every part of you. Every bone will shatter. Every inch of you will bruise. You will feel pain unlike you’ve ever known before. They will take you to the precipice of oblivion, and you will stare Death himself in the face. And just as he reaches up his cold hand to drag you down, I will remove the collar and allow your abilities to heal you. Then we will start all over again. Unless you tell me what I want to know.”

Holy fuck. I think I just shit our pants a little.

“Her,” I replied simply. Otto blinked and stared at me.

“What?”

“Death. She’s a her. And she’s super hot.” The doctor sighed and moved away. As he did, I wiggled my fingers into my sleeve, trying to find the little clicker I’d stashed for just such an emergency. As the doctor faded into the background, I found it and clicked it rapidly.

Time for Plan B.

Did we even have a Plan A?

“You may begin,” the doctor said, and the Sinister Six descended. Kraven took the lead, throwing punch after punch across my jaw. When he was done, Electro surged a shock through me, sending me into convulsions. Sandman stepped forward and I saw his fist transform into a giant sand hammer.

“Oh Thor wishes he-UGH!” He slammed it into my side and I felt three of my ribs break. The five men took turns working me over until my eyes were too swollen to see who was hitting me.

Hang on, Wade. They’re coming.

I hope they do. Even I’m having a hard time coming up with something funny.

They will. It’s what they do.

But boy did they take their sweet ass time.

By the time Otto took the collar off, I probably had over a dozen broken bones, several missing teeth, a mild to moderate concussion, and a raging case of terminal cancer kicking the absolute shit out of me. The second the collar came off, the air was filled with the pops and cracks of my bones realigning and starting to heal. I could feel new teeth filling the gaps in my mouth, and let me tell you, it felt really weird.

“Feel like talking, Mr. Wilson?” Otto asked.

“Well,” I started. “When I was six my dad left and I had this creepy uncle who used to babysit. I always got this really weird vibe off him.”

“I’m really gonna enjoy killing this guy,” Toomes said. From somewhere nearby, I could hear a faint whining sound.

Methinks the cavalry approaches.

I’d recommend ducking, Wade.

“You guys are about to get fucked up,” I laughed. Right on cue, a giant repulsor blast knocked a hole in the wall.

“Someone order Postmates?” Tony quipped, flying into the room. Otto growled and swung a tentacle at the other Avengers who were rushing in behind him. Someone shot something very explodey next to me, and it toppled me to the ground. I landed facedown, still somehow bound to the chair.

“Oh, come on. This is bull shit!”

I wonder if this is just so the author doesn’t have to write another fight scene.

SHUT UP SHE’LL HEAR YOU!

I stared helplessly at the floor as the fight went on around me. It sounded really cool. I bet it looked really cool. Sure wish I knew what was going on. After a few minutes, the sounds of fighting died down and someone was hauling me upright. Once I was finally free I turned and looked into the beautiful blue eyes of Steve Rogers.

“Well, hello gorgeous,” I said with a smirk.

“Wade?” he asked. I wasn’t sure if he was surprised to see me or just dealing with the shock of seeing my unmasked face for the first time.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me!” Tony screamed from across the room. “You’re the distress call?” I stood up with a stretch and waved at him.

“Hey, Tony!” From behind him, Peter popped into view and waved back.

“Hi, Mr. Wilson!”

“Hi, Angel!” I called back.

“Did he just call Peter ‘Angel’?” someone asked. Over Cap’s shoulder, I spotted the god damn Winter Soldier.

I’m not sure who’s prettier: him or Steve.

Objectively they’re both quite attractive.

I wonder if they’d be into an all-male threesome.

“Yeah, he does that,” Steve answered his best friend. “Wade, how did you get one of our SOS beacons?”

“A little kitty grabbed it for me,” I shrugged. “Cost me an arm and a nut, but Felicia’s worth every penny.” Bucky chuckled and holstered the weapon in his metal hand.

“That’s my girl,” he mumbled.

“Your girl needs to stop stealing my shit,” Tony snapped, marching over and snatching the beacon from my hand. “Give me that. Members only!” He turned and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?” Steve asked.

“Home!” Tony yelled without turning around. “Can’t believe we wasted our time on this moron…” With that, he fired up his boosters and flew away.

“One day he’ll warm up to me,” I sighed.

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Bucky said. “We haven’t met yet. I’m Bucky.” He held out a hand for me to shake and as I did, I found myself completely lost in his eyes.

Forget the threesome. We have to marry him.

He just said he’s in a relationship.

Minor inconvenience. He must be ours.

While the battle raged in my head, I realized I was still shaking his hand with both of mine. And I was staring at him. Intensely.

“I’m gonna let go of you now,” I said.

“I would be okay with that,” he replied. I dropped his hand and stepped back to examine the unconscious bodies littered around the room.

“Wow, you guys really don’t fuck around do you?”

“The distress call went off like fifty times in a row so we figured it was bad,” Peter explained. “Next time, if you just hit it once it’ll keep going off til we respond.”

“Peter, you’re a precious angel and we don’t deserve you,” I sighed. He looked down and even though I couldn’t see his face, I knew he was blushing.

“I’m glad we saved him,” Peter said. Suddenly, Tony came flying back through the hole in the wall and grabbed Peter by the arm, dragging him out.

“Bye, Mr. Wade!” he yelled as he vanished.

“What a nice kid,” I mused. Both Steve and Bucky chuckled, and the latter nodded his head toward the door. “Come on. We’ll show you the way out. Oh, and I found this.” He held out his metal arm and handed me my mask. I grabbed it and pulled it on, following the two giant super-soldiers from the room. As we walked, I kept stealing glances at the metal prosthesis on ole blue eyes.

“So, do you ever get freaky with that thing?” I asked bluntly. Bucky’s steps faltered and he turned to me wide-eyed.

“What did you just say?”

“The arm,” I said, pointing. “Do you ever do any weird sex stuff with it?” Bucky looked down at his arm and then back up at me.

“Define weird,” he said.

“I’m asking if you’ll choke me with your metal arm.” Before he could answer, Steve’s shield flew down the hall and hit me in the face.

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[mermaidxatxheart]

Home for Christmas

This is my next prompt for @panicfob​‘s #25 Days of Christmas.

Day 14: The Company Holiday Party

Pairing: Sam X Reader

Warnings: Swearing, small acts of violence, threats of violence against Steve. 

Summary: This is a continuation of my Home story. Sam’s been gone for even longer this time. Naturally, you hate every second. But the worst part is that he’s supposed to accompany you to your stupid work holiday party. And now that he’s not going, you really don’t want to.

Word Count: 3328

How do people make long-distance relationships work? This is impossible. 

 Your boyfriend, Sam, has been gone for his longest mission to date. 

 3 months. 

 7 days. 

 16 hours. 

 And you’ve counted every single second of absolute agony. 

 You shake out the towel you’re folding with a grumble. “We won’t be gone that long, baby. You won’t even have time to miss me.” You mock his parting words, lips still tingling at the memory of his searing goodbye kiss. The door clicked shut and you had to look down and make sure you were still dressed. 

“Right.” You sigh, giving up on the towel and throwing it onto the bed. “Steve Rogers is gonna get a Captain America sized slap the second I meet him.” You curse, dogging through the laundry basket, looking for your cloud shirt. 

 It’s really Sam’s, but not anymore. It’s soft as sin, worn to perfection, and he knows it’s your favorite, so he leaves it with you.

 You crumple it to your face and inhale, trying to remember what his cologne smells like. It’s faded from the shirt, doesn’t smell like your Sam anymore. Just you. 

 You pull it away, a frustrated, strangled sigh escaping. You’re about to fold it back in his drawer when you notice a small dark spot towards the bottom. 

 “No.” You whisper, bringing the section closer to your face. Sure enough, it’s a hole. Your eyes fill with tears as you stare at it, heart thumping erratically in your chest, banging painfully against your ribs. You fold the shirt, being extra careful with it, placing it in his drawer and wiping your eyes.

 Your phone chimes with a text message and you dive for it, thinking it might be Sam, finally replying to one of your four hundred text messages. 

 But it’s just your coworker, Ashley, reminding you about the holiday party tonight. 

 “Calvin told me to remind you that it was mandatory.” She writes. 

 “Calvin can sit on a cactus.” You mutter, tossing your phone on your bed. You look at the bright red dress hanging over your closet door. Sam’s suit is next to it, but you don’t think he’s going to make it home in time for the party.

 You don’t feel like going to a stupid party, not without Sam. Everyone thought you were scary when he’d been gone for just two weeks. They were downright avoiding you this time. You can’t even find it in yourself to feel bad about it. 

 You groan and get in the shower, cursing Steve Rogers again. It’s bad enough that they’ve been gone for so long, but his phone calls have gotten further and further apart until last month they just stopped altogether. 

 You scrubbed and scrubbed, digging your nails into your scalp harder than you should have. He would want you to go and have fun. Which makes you want to go even less. Partly because Sam was supposed to go with you, and partly because you’re so mad at him for being gone for so long. You don’t want to do anything he’d want you to do. 

 Jerk. 

 ***

 The hotel ballroom is beautifully decorated. Massive Christmas trees are brightly decked out in silver and gold, placed in the four corners. A long table, half the length of the room, runs the back wall, covers in food and maintained by the hotel staff. Fairy lights are strung from the ceiling over the wide-open dance floor where the majority of your coworkers are enjoying themselves. 

 You watch from the side, not really interested, unable to leave yet. The only saving grace about this whole fiasco is that Ashley keeps bringing you glasses of bourbon-spiked eggnog. 

 Bless her. 

 You have her Christmas present in your small black clutch. Sam helped you pick it out and you’re slightly reluctant to let it go. 

 Calvin saunters over, holding his hand out. “May I have this dance?” He asks. 

 You have nothing against Calvin, except that you just don’t particularly like him. You’re debating your ability to say no and get away with it when he speaks again. 

 “Just one dance. You look so bored over here. And I don’t know if you noticed, but everyone else seems to be afraid of you. So, they won’t be asking you to dance any time soon.”

 You sigh, figuring one dance can’t hurt, but you’re keeping your drink. “That’s by design, Calvin.” You mutter, following him out to the dance floor. You haven’t made it easy on him, clutch in one hand, very necessary drink in the other, but he manages. One hand rests on your waist while the other awkwardly clasps your palm in his fingers. 

 “So, what do you think?” He asks, gesturing around the extravagant ballroom. 

 “It’s nice.” You answer, taking a big sip of your drink. The bourbon burns on the way down and you very nearly choke on it as his hand slides down over the curve of your ass. You grab his wrist and yank it off you.

 “Sorry.” He says automatically, very carefully placing it back on your waist. You’re much more wary of him this time. Any sign of him being inappropriate, and you’re going to punch him right in his face. 

 He guides you across the dance floor, seeming to have a direction in mind and your gut is telling you to cut this short. You glance around, looking for a way to make your exit and when you look back at him, his face is almost to yours, lips puckered. His hand tightens on your waist, trying to hold you close. You put your clutch bag between you two and push his face away roughly with it. 

 He splutters indignantly and glares at you. “What’d you do that for?” He demands. 

 “Don’t act stupid.” You hiss. 

 “It’s tradition.” He points upward and above you is a ball of mistletoe. All of a sudden the move across the dance floor makes sense. Rage boils inside you and you throw your drink in his face, followed shortly by the glass. Everyone stops and turns as he lets out a shout and the glass shatters on the floor. 

 “So is being a gentleman.” You snap and storm out of the ballroom, your coworkers rushing to part for you. Your heels click on the floor as you find the nearest restroom and shove the door open. Thank god the room is empty because you probably would have ripped someone’s head off if they had been in here. You lock the door and stomp back and forth until your feet hurt. 

 You knew, you knew you shouldn’t have fucking come tonight. You should have just stayed home in your pajamas and thrown darts at Steve’s perfect picture. 

 Where are they?

 You pull out your phone and call Sam’s number. It goes straight to fucking voicemail again. 

 “Hey, it’s Sam. You know the drill.” His recording picks up. 

 “Wilson, I swear to god. Rogers better hope I never meet him for making you miss this awful fucking party. And when you come home, because you have to come home, just know you’re in deep shit. I love you so much, you asshole.” You hang up and drop your phone back in your clutch. 

 Time to find Ashley and give her her Christmas present. Then it’s time to peace the fuck out. You take a deep breath and check your reflection before leaving the bathroom to find your friend. 

 You stand on the side again, looking for the pretty blonde girl in the gold dress. Suddenly, she’s right in front of you, holding out another glass. 

 “Are you okay? I saw what Calvin did.” She says. “I added extra for you after that.”

 “I’m fine. I have something for you. It’s from me and Sam.” You say, digging through your bag and handing her the envelope. You take the eggnog so she can open it and you watch with a fond smile as she opens it excitedly. 

 “Oh, no way! How did you get tickets to Ed Sheeran? He’s been sold out for months!” She practically shouts. 

 You just smile and accept her hug. “I’m glad you like it.” You nod. 

 “Are you leaving?” She asks. 

 “I’ve made my mandatory appearance, turns out just so Calvin can make a fucking move. Now I’m going home to plot Steve Rogers’ murder.”

 “Okay, that all sounds great. But can you wait until you at least finish your drink? My Christmas present for you will be here in just a minute.” She asks excitedly. 

 “Fine. But if it’s not here by the time I finish, you’ll just have to give it to me on Monday.”

 “Deal! Wait right here.” She points at you and disappears into the crowd. 

 You’re tempted to just chug the drink and leave. She’s sweet but you’re 100% positive that no matter what her present is, there’s no way it could possibly make this night any better. But you promised, so you sip the drink slowly, looking around for your friend. You spot her over by the opposite edge of the dance floor and you frown. 

 Isn’t she supposed to be getting your present? You watch her walk over to the DJ, feeling more and more confused. 

 “Like a Queen watching over her peasants, she stands to the side, aloof and-”

 Your heart stops dead in your chest and you turn, already swinging your arm. Sam catches your wrist easily, holding it against his chest.

 “-apparently always ready for a fight.” He adds and you glare at him. “Okay, a well-deserved fight.” Your eyes narrow. “Baby, it’s not my fault.” He sighs, closing his eyes. His thumb is tracing your wrist gently. 

 Your annoyance and anger soften slightly when you see the fading bruise over his eye. In theory, you know what he does is dangerous. You’re aware that each mission could be his last, but he’s generally pretty careful about not coming home with too many injuries. 

 Gently, you touch the bruise, no pressure because you’re afraid to hurt him. He exhales softly and cups your hand to his face, holding it there. He was tense before and you didn’t notice it. But he seems to breathe easier under your delicate touch. 

 You’ve always had an understanding that you definitely need Sam Wilson more than Sam has ever needed you. 

 It’s not that he doesn’t love you, because you know that he does. He shows it in every touch, every look. It’s that when he’s away on a mission, you completely lose control of everything and he never has that problem. He’s your rock, your sunshine, he keeps you grounded and you know that when he calls you from a mission, he can tell how miserable you are. You’re no good at hiding it, while he’s always smiling, in a good mood, cracking jokes. One last laugh before he has to go, sweetheart. 

 He’s always happy, even when he’s gone. So, maybe he doesn’t miss you as much as you miss him.

 “Baby girl, please say something? I haven’t heard your voice in too damn long.”

 “And who’s fault is that, Samuel?” You ask, but you can’t quite manage enough venom. 

 “There she is.” He sighs with a smile. 

 “Where have you been?” You demand, feeling your eyes start to water. “And who did this to your face? I’ll fight them.” You sniffle and he fucking grins. 

 “It’s a long story, they should be terrified. Please don’t cry, I’m right here, I’m okay.” He promises, rubbing your shoulders. 

 “It’s not that.” You sniffle, almost too emotional to speak. Because he’s here, in front of you and you can’t figure out why you’re not kissing him. “It’s just...” your fingers trace over the black silk bow tie at his throat. 

 “Just what, beautiful?” His thumb strokes over your cheek softly. 

 “It’s just... who taught you how to tie a bow tie? It’s awful. You look like a first grader.” You mutter and he laughs, a loud, hand on his belly, head tipped back laugh.

 “Well, my girl wasn’t home to fix it for me. So, this is what ya get.” He sasses and you’re still not sure you won’t slap him. The song changes to your song and there’s a light in his eyes. A slow-burning fire that makes you feel warm all over. 

 “Dance with me?” He asks, maybe a little uncertainly. 

 “I was gonna head out. I’m not actually having fun.”

 “Y/N, please? It’s our song, you look amazing and I’m here. I just need to dance with you in my arms. One song and then we can go. We’ll finish a bottle of wine and you can yell at me for being gone for so long.” He promises with his eyes closed, almost as if he can’t stand to look at your face as you reject him. 

 That hurts you more than you can say. Without a word, you slip your hand into his. He closes his fingers around yours with a small exhale, eyes squeezing shut. He leads you to the dance floor with no resistance from you. He holds you close, cheek resting against yours as you sway gently back and forth. So far, you think you’ve done a damn good job holding onto your emotions. 

 “I missed you.” He sighs quietly and buries his face in your neck. He inhales deeply, fingers tightening desperately on your waist. Your breath gets stuck in your chest, but you won’t cry, not here in front of everyone. Later, at home with Sam, where he can comfort you and tell you stupid jokes while you cuddle in his favorite shirt-

 “Christ, I almost forgot what you smell like.” He mutters, lips nipping at your skin. 

 “I know the feeling. Your shirt doesn’t smell like you anymore.” You tuck your face into his neck, voice clipped as it shakes precariously. Don’t lose it here. “It has a hole in it.” You mumble, gripping at his shoulders. 

 “We’ll find you another favorite shirt, baby. I’ll find you ten.” He promises. “They always look better on you, anyway.”

 You can feel your coworkers’ eyes on you, whispering as they realize who you’re with. Looks of understanding pass over their faces and they move along, letting you have your moment. 

 “Please tell me I’m not dreaming again. Tell me you’re really here.” He whispers, his voice cracking just a little and your heart right along with it. 

 You guide his face back to yours, kissing him slowly. You should have done this the second you realized he was behind you, not try to hit him. His lips, usually so soft and gentle are hungry, unrestrained as he kisses you back. He snuffs out your breath and clings to you desperately. He crushes you against his solid chest and it feels like he’s trying to merge you together. 

 You pull back, very out of breath and his eyes are still closed, his face somewhere between pain and bliss. 

 “Did your dream ever do that?” You ask and he grins. 

 “That and a lot more, sweetheart. I have a fantastic imagination and like I said, I missed you a metric fuckton.” He says softly. 

 “Well, let’s get out of here and you can show me just how much you missed me.” You say, turning to leave. “Ashley can give me my present on Monday.”

 “Baby, I’m your present.” He laughs, pulling you back against him. “She saw me standing by the door and wanted to surprise you.”

 “Even better. Can we go now? I really need your mouth in places.”

 He snorts, but then his face gets serious. “In a second.”

 You follow his gaze and realize that he’s spotted Calvin. He’s talking to some people, holding a napkin to his forehead where the glass cut him. “Sam, he’s not worth it.” You start, grabbing at his hand. 

 He latches onto yours, pulling you with him. “No. But you are.” He walks over to your boss and taps him on the shoulder. He doesn’t push you away, which means he doesn’t plan on punching him. You watch curiously as Calvin turns and his eyes get wide at seeing Sam Wilson-Avenger, standing in front of him and looking pissed. “I don’t need to threaten you, because my girl can take care of herself. But you try something like that again, and I’ll forget that fact.” He says, his voice dangerously low. 

 Calvin nods, absolutely terrified, and Sam drapes his big arm around your shoulders. “Come on, gorgeous. Let’s get your coat.” He mutters, guiding you away. 

 You wait until after he’s helped you into your coat and outside waiting for a cab before speaking. “Is it awful that you really just turned me on in there?”

 “Really? Oh, thank god. I was worried I went too far.”

 “It was perfect.” You assure him, leaning into his side.

 He squeezes you close, nuzzling into your hair. “I got your messages, by the way. Including the last one. Were you in the bathroom?” He asks, his lips moving against your hairline. He can’t seem to pull away from you long enough and you know the feeling. You need to feel him under your hands, you missed him so fucking much. 

 “I’m sorry I called you an asshole.” You mumble. 

 “You don’t have anything to apologize for, sweetheart. I’ve never gotten mad at you for calling me names before. I’m not about to start now, especially when it follows you telling me you love me. It helps me know exactly what you’re thinking.” He turns you flush against his chest and wraps his arms around you with a satisfied groan.

 “I don’t think I understand.” You mumble into his jacket. 

 “You’re complicated, Y/N. And my job doesn’t make it any easier. I understand that. You worry about me, and it stresses you out. And you get mad at me. But when you tell me you love me and call me a name, I know it’s not out of anger, it’s out of frustration and worry. And I’m so sorry that I have to disappear the way I do sometimes. I hate it, not being able to let you know I’m okay, that I’m thinking about you every second I’m away.”

 You sniffle and he rubs your back gently. “If you don’t stop talking, I’m gonna start ugly crying and that would be an embarrassment for the both of us.” You warm thickly and he laughs. 

 “I’m just saying I don’t mind. You can call me all the names you want. Because none of that matters. You’re my whole fucking heart, Y/N. And I leave it here with you every time I step outside that door.”

 You groan and thump your forehead against his chest. “Here comes the ugly crying.” You whisper and he laughs.

 “You don’t have to be strong all the time, you know.” He cradles your head against him. 

 “But crying hurts so much.” You whine. 

 “That’s kind of the point. Doesn’t fighting it just make it hurt longer?”

 “You want me to cry, or what?”

 “Only so long as I’m here to make you feel better.” He smiles, nuzzling into your hair. “I have some bad news, sweetheart.” He mumbles. 

 “I swear to Christ, Wilson if you’re gonna tell me that you have to leave again-“

 “Whoa, slow your roll, baby.” He laughs. “I was just gonna tell you that Steve invited you to our holiday party next weekend.”

 “Oh, so he’s into being slapped? Publicly humiliated?”

 Sam cackles. “You can’t slap Captain America, babygirl.”

 “Watch me.” You pull him close, that wicked park back in your eyes that he loves so much. “Now, it’s been 3 months, 7 days and-”

 He crushes his lips over yours and judging from the blistering passion with which he kisses you, there is no doubt in your mind that he’s been counting, too.

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[withoutaconscienceorafilter]

UNEXPECTED VISITOR 👀👀

WIP -- UNEXPECTED VISITOR(S)

This is supposed to be during Cable & X-Force, because that has both de-powered Nate with pre-cog visions that are slowly turning his brains to jelly and Hope chasing after her dad, but no sign of Wade and that made me sad. :( And there’s this fanart by aortdn on Tumblr somewhere with Nate sprawled on Wade’s couch with his head in Wade’s lap and Wade’s holding a gun with this absolutely mystified expression......

Also, I hate how most comics writers make Nate really mean to Wade.  :C 

Oh yes, this was written before it became canon that Hope is vehemently opposed to Wade.  ;P  Stupid canon.

 A lot of my WIP ideas like this get abandoned because I decide I’m being overly dramatic and I feel a little ridiculous.  Plus they end up full of plot holes.  So this is something I wrote myself in a spurt of romanticism and never bothered to move out of the WIP directory.  Mindless self-indulgence.

If you think I should go ahead and post this snippet on ao3, leave a comment.  Otherwise it’s probably going to just live here and nowhere else.

Nate, Wade, Hope, hurt/comfort, angst, incomplete, probably not entirely canon compliant

~~~~

Some nights start off like all the others, until one thing changes.

Wade Wilson is watching television in t-shirt, boxers, and bunny slippers from one end of his dirty, stabbed-in-places, shot-in-other-places couch.  When there’s a soft knock at the door, that’s surprising.  When whoever knocks just goes ahead and turns the handle a second later, like he or she has the right to just waltz on in, that’s even more surprising.

Wade isn’t used to anyone visiting his hellhole of an apartment.  Visiting him.  At least, he doesn’t think he is.

Except maybe Bob, but he doesn’t count.

Especially not visiting and letting themselves in.

So when Cable walks through the door, Wade’s got a gun aimed right between his eyes.

“Hello, Wade.”  It sounds tired.  Resigned.  And of course not the least bit intimidated, because his time-traveling best whatever-the-hell-he-is certainly is never intimidated by Wade.  Unclear if that’s comforting to his soul or insulting to his ego.

Reflex keeps the gun trained on Nate while Wade’s brain is struggling to catch up, finally flicks on the safety and shoves it back down the couch cushions after watching Nate close and lock the door and start carefully setting down his larger guns.

“Staying for a bit?” he asks with attempted nonchalance.

“For a couple hours, if you’ll let me.”

He looks tired.  He looks different.  New: mechanical right eye, working left eye.  Gone: techno-organic mesh.  New: actual flesh left arm and some sort of mecha robotic prosthetic surrounding it.

Still huge and muscled.  Still scars over his right eye.  Still all grizzled and old, military, GI-Joe look.  His hair is really short this time--Wade misses the slightly longer Nate hair.  Better for the running-fingers-through-it stuff.

Wade just watches, brain still trying to catch up, as Nate does something up by his left shoulder and suddenly Mr. Robot Arm opens up, slides off and gets unceremoniously tossed by the guns.

“Why?”  It comes out a little too forceful, and it doesn’t say all the why are you here? and why me? and why now? explicitly, but they’re there all the same.

Nate just shakes his head and that might have been the ghost of a sigh.  The couch shakes when he drops onto it.  For a moment he’s not quite looking at Wade but everything about the tension and line of his body says all his attention is on him.

“Can I … lie down?”

“Lie … what?”  Wade has no clue what’s going on.  “I mean, sure, there’s a bed--”

But before he can get further, Nate just gives a quiet little sigh and a shake of his head, and he’s turning and slinging his legs around over the arm of the couch and lying down along the length of it, settling his head in Wade’s lap with a tired grunt.

“Jesus Christ, Nate!  Are you dying?!”  Because honestly, he can’t think of anything else that would make big tough mutant savior do this.

Nate’s eyes close and he turns his head toward Wade’s stomach, shifting in the little ways someone does when they’re getting comfortable.

“Maybe,” is the rumbled answer.  “Telepathy and telekinesis crapping out.  Precog visions.  Tearing my head apart.  I just want a couple hours where I can pretend everything’s fine.”  Unspoken: everything between us is fine and I’m going to be fine and I’m not dying ... again.  And then, before Wade can call him any of that unspoken stuff, “Hold on.” He taps a headset in one ear. “Cable to base.  …  Yes, I’m fine, just taking a couple of hours to sleep.  …  No, extraction unnecessary.  …  I’m …” Now he sounds aggravated. ”Hope, I’m fine.  None of my visions are happening in the next 8 hours, so let me sleep before I drop dead. … You keep telling me to trust my team, so that’s what I’m trying to do.  Keep watch, deal with any shit that comes up, and don’t screw up!  Cable out.”

He taps the headset again, then pulls it off and throws it in the general direction of his guns and arm.

“Hope?” Wade tries to keep his voice neutral.  “She’s working with you?”

“Yeah.” Nate’s got his eyes closed again, head turned toward Wade. “She battered her way in, wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“How old is she again?”

A sigh.  “Sixteen.”

Wade feels it all over again like it was the first time he heard it, like someone punched him in the gut, punched the breath right out of him.  Fists clench.  Anger rising.  It’s long seconds before he can find the voice to speak.

“I hate time travel.  I still can’t believe you ran around without me for sixteen years.”

Because, seriously?  Sixteen years.  Sixteen years of being chased, shot at, shot up, getting blown up, getting older and grumpier, doing who knows what in bed with who knows who, raising a kid, and all without him?  Without giving him anything aside from a quick stopover in Alaska to say see you later?  Not dropping by for a proper reunion when he got back? And yet having the gall to walk into his apartment and flop in his lap like they’d just seen each other last week?

“It wasn’t quite that long.  We got separated along the way.”

“Still a hell of a long time!”

“I know,” said softly.  “You deserve better.”  Then, “I’m tired.”

“Dammit, Nate.”  Wade lets his head fall back, staring at the ceiling.  Because he is not going to get emotional.  And his eyes are totally not springing a leak right now.  Instead of saying anything else, he settles for lightly running a hand through Nate’s hair over and over, feeling the fuzz and prickle of it, the occasional ridge of a hidden scar on his scalp.

Nate sighs, a long, quiet thing as if tension is flowing out of him, and wraps an arm around Wade’s back, then stills.

Wade keeps letting his fingers ghost over Nate’s hair, and when he finally has it together enough to look down, Nate’s lips are slightly parted and he’s pretty obviously asleep.  Chest and stomach rising and falling slowly and regularly.

Wade frowns.  Nate must be exhausted to fall asleep that fast.

This universe fucking sucks, running Nate around like this, chasing him into other times for something like a decade and a half.  Wade doesn’t want to think about it anymore, so he picks up the remote and resumes channel surfing, other hand still gently resting on Nate’s hair.

He does turn down the sound.  If Nate needs to pass out like this, Wade doesn’t want him disturbed.

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

Wade isn’t used to anyone visiting his hellhole of an apartment.

He certainly isn’t used to two visitors in one night.

He’s nodded off in the earliness of pre-dawn, head propped on a hand on the back of the couch, dozing in place so Nate can keep sleeping.  Who cares if his leg is asleep.  If it falls off--can legs fall off from going to sleep for too long?--he’ll just grow a new one anyway.

And then the door knob rattles quietly.  Just the little sound of someone testing it to see if it’s locked.

Wade is instantly awake and pulling the handgun out of the couch for the second time.  There’s a long pause and then the lock glows blue and twists on the inside, unlocking with a click.  The handle twists and the door is pushed open a couple inches.

“Step in where I can see you,” he growls quietly.  “Hands come through first and stay up the whole time.  Or I’m going to shoot a hell of a lot of holes in my door and send you the bill.”

There’s a long pause, then a pair of slender hands, gloved in green poke through, fingers wiggle as if to say see, no weapons and then a head pokes around the door.  Red hair.  Green eyes.

“Oh fucking hell,” Wade swears, flicks on the safety, and savagely shoves the gun back down into its hiding spot.  Again.

The green eyes blink in surprise and then their owner sidles through the door, pushing it quietly closed behind her.  She’s dressed in the usual skin tight superhero outfit, except with a Nate-worthy big gun strapped to her back. Eyes wide, just staring.

Hope.  He doesn’t know her very well.  Barely at all. That hurts too, that Nate hadn’t bothered to get them together, to have him properly meet his adopted daughter.

“Whaaaaat?” Wade asks defensively.  Quietly and defensively.  Quietly because don’t wake Nate.  And defensively because so what if he has multiple hundred pounds of X-Force leader stretched across his couch and lap?  Manly, brawny, probably never-admits-weakness-in-front-of-his-kid leader?

“Sorry, I didn’t know what was--  I borrowed some of his powers to get-- I could feel him but I couldn’t read you--”

“Yeah, telepaths have trouble with me.”

“Is he okay?” she breathes, edging closer, and the ridiculousness of it all almost makes him laugh, that they both figure Cable has to be damn near done for before he does this sort of thing and sleeps through a conversation about him happening right next to him.

Wade shrugs.  “I asked him if he was dying.  He said maybe.”

And there.  That’s definitely a kid Cable raised.  Because the flash of guilt quickly covered up and the squaring of the shoulders, taking responsibility for and internalizing problems and failures, that’s all Nate.

She nods, and now she’s looking him over more carefully, scrutiny from head to toe, gaze lingering on his face as if she really wishes she knew what he was thinking.  Wade really wishes he had his mask, but it’s across the room and he’s sure as hell not going to ask her to hand it to him.

“Who are you?”

Wade hates being trapped in one place like this, so he pulls the gun back out and starts twirling it around a finger.  Most people don’t fidget with guns, but then mostly people aren’t him.  She almost doesn’t twitch a hand toward her gun in response.

“Wade Wilson.  Your dad and I were kinda sorta best buds back when he was building a floating island utopia.”  She just looks at him blankly.  “Also known as Deadpool?”  And now her eyes get really wide.

“I do know you,” she says cautiously.  “A future you saved me from Stryfe.”

“Oh.  Do I?  Good for future-me.  Did Nate see it?  ‘Cause it’s always nice when he realizes I have a good side.”

“He … uh.  Yes.  He also told me not to trust you.  And worse.”  She gives sleeping Nate a hard look tinged with disbelief, as if to say, you hypocrite.

Wade gently sets down the gun before he shoots something or someone.  Hunches forward a little because he really doesn’t need her seeing the hurt he’s sure is all over his face.  “Nate,” he says softly toward the man in his lap, “you suck.”

That appears to actually get through, because Nate frowns, makes a frustrated grumbling sound.  His eyes squeeze tight as a tremor of clenching and unclenching muscles runs through him, a morning stretch.  His arm tightens around Wade and pulls him closer, forehead resting on stomach.

“Hey, Nate.”  Wade pokes him in the shoulder.  “You might want to wake up.  Your girl’s here.”

Nate makes an unhappy noise along the lines of “nnnngg”, but rolls and sits up, blinking blearily at Wade’s second unwelcome visitor.  “Hope.  What the hell are you doing here?”

Hope gets a stubborn look on her face. “You weren’t answering your com.”

“I was asleep.”

“You still weren’t answering.  You always answer, even if you’re catnapping.”

A groan, rubbing a hand over his face.  “I wasn’t catnapping.  Wanted to really sleep for once.”

The curiosity and disbelief are almost palpable, rolling off her.  “Why here?  You told me Deadpool couldn’t be trusted!  You told X-Force to ‘gut him and dump him!’”

That causes double flinches for very different reasons, and Nate glances guiltily sideways at the other man on the couch.

“Yeah, Nate,” Wade says with deceptively calm.  “That's even meaner than usual. What’s up with that when Hope was telling me this future-me saved her ass?”

“Wade, you couldn’t be trusted,” and he sounds deeply pained.  “How many times have you backstabbed me?  Tried to kill me?  Lost your mind or your memories so bad who knows if you’d even remember what side you’re on?  It… you… he was roughly a thousand years in the future. Not just crazy. Mad.  Falling apart, healing factor running out, a dead man walking.  Working for Stryfe.  Lost.”

It hurts.  He’s only looking at his clenched fists when he says, “I never backstabbed you in a way you couldn’t recover from, Mr. Hypocrite Who Exploded My Head Multiple Times.  I haven’t tried to kill you in years, aside from being brainwashed, but that wasn’t really me trying to kill you.  And...”  He swallows, wishes he had something smartass and irrelevant to say instead. Finally looks Nate in the face long enough to say, “I don’t care what I remember or how crazy I am.  I’m always on your side.”

Nate drops his head, folds his hands over the back of his head, elbows on his knees.  Not looking at either of them, blocking them out.  Hope is hovering, looking unsure if she should get further away or come closer to comfort her dad.  Wade is just watching--what he just said was as exhausting as an entire fight.  Nate’s shoulders shake with the slightest tremor, but his voice is steady.

“Wade, I can’t trust you.  I’m sorry.  I can’t trust anyone.  Maybe Hope.  It never goes right.  Plans, intentions, it all leads to weaknesses.  I can’t even trust myself.”

“Nate.”  He puts out a hand, very carefully settles it on a shoulder.  Because he’s pretty damn mad at Nate right now, but it’s also obvious Nate’s got some messed up head stuff going on here.  “Listen to yourself.  When the hell did you get so lost?  You used to trust people.  Irene.  Gareb.  Forge.  Prestor John.  Johann.  Maybe you didn’t tell them everything, but you were a team.  Six Pack and X-Force before that.  I think you even trusted me, until I screwed up and you kicked me off the island.  For god’s sake, you cared about other people enough that you burned your powers out fixing my screwed up, useless head!  How’d you get from that to this?”

“This?” It sounds hollow.

“Mean and untrusting.”

“Wait, what?” That’s Hope. Wade flinches again.  He’d almost forgotten she was there.  “What do you mean, burned himself out?”

Wade glares at her, taps the side of his forehead.  “My brain’s a mess.  Between cancer, my head getting constantly stabbed and shot, and my healing factor, it ends up as ugly on the inside as the outside of me.  Last time I was actually sane and able to remember everything was because your dad went inside my head and fixed it.  He could have stayed an omega-level telepath and telekinetic again, but instead he wasted it on me.  And it didn’t even stick.”  And that totally was not almost a sob, Wade is denying it forever if anyone asks.

Hope stares at him, then her dad.  “Is he telling the truth?!”

“Yes.”  Nate’s still hunched over, not looking at either of them.  “He’d just saved my life. Twice. He had holes in his mind.”

“I told you to walk away!” Wade snarls, hand on Nate’s shoulder clenching.

“Like hell,” Nate snaps back, starting to straighten.

Hope just stares at them, like they’re the world’s biggest idiots and confusing her by being unable to see to what’s obvious.

“Dad, if you care that much but you can’t trust him when he’s broken, why don’t we just fix him again?”