#(wilson talks himself out of wanting things a fair bit i think. he seemed like a nonparticipant in his own marriages)

[marc--chilton]

(mgv) after they have their first pup house has to talk himself down every single heat because now he has Parent Feelings so the omega part of him is like more?? more baby 4 me?? but the rest of him is like NO. I AM TURNING FIFTY. i bet he even scolds his own instincts for wanting more pups when he's already emotionally adopted chase and thirteen before ever getting pregnant, like oh are adopted pups not good enough??? not real enough??? shame on you, omega brain

[bunnimew]

Making a Fool

Rating: T Fandom: Spider-man and Deadpool Relationship: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson Tags: College AU, College roommates, Humor, Fluff, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, With a silly twist tho, Pre-Slash Summary: For Spideypool Bingo 2019: B4 College Roommates @spideypoolbingo

It was already something of a feat trying to hide Peter's ‘after school activities’ from normal roommates. It was going to be an exercise in futility trying to hide them from a trained mercenary.

Although, to be fair… it was Deadpool.

On AO3 here.

It was a little bit weird. A full grown adult, staying in the dorms? It just seemed like he should’ve had somewhere else to live by this point in his life. And not just because Peter’s roommate was a grown ass man. 

Also because he was Deadpool.

And okay, it’s not like Peter was a freshman or anything himself. He’d been here for four years and just hadn’t figured out how to escape yet, so it’s not like he wasn’t also, technically, a grown ass man. 

Still.

His roommate was Deadpool. 

What were the odds of that?

It was already something of a feat trying to hide his ‘after school activities’ from normal roommates. It was going to be an exercise in futility trying to hide them from a trained mercenary.

Although, to be fair… it was Deadpool.

“Are you okay there, Petey?”

...He should probably get out of the doorway. Also, he never gave him permission to call Peter nicknames. Although, given all the things Deadpool liked to call Spider-man, he shouldn't have been surprised. Also, Peter should probably get used to thinking of him as Wade. 

Peter coughed and nodded and made his way to… the fridge. Yeah, the fridge. “I’m good. How are you?”

“Busy!” Wade answered, pinning up a unicorn poster between their bedroom doors. Peter wasn’t sure how he felt about it, but at least it wasn’t something offensive. It was a pretty nice unicorn, actually. “We’re going to have the best year! Frat parties, study groups, questionable caffeine sources, melted soup spoons, unsolved frat murders, student demonstrations, crying, and frat parties!”

Peter’s smile actually felt frozen on his face. He was so concerned. “When was the last time you were in college?”

Wade shrugged. “Probably the hit on the pizza boy.” He vanished into his bedroom before Peter could ask, although Peter wasn’t really sure what he would ask about that. Wade came back out with a stack of texts. “I heard on the vine that you were good with numbers. I hate to impose, but also I don’t. Think you might be able to help me figure this out?”

They… literally did not have classes until next week. Who bought their books ahead of time? Drop/add was serious business. That, and Peter was expecting to have to bust up a party of bad guys sometime around eleven, so… 

“Uh, tonight?” Peter asked. “I have plans.”

“Oh?” Wade perked up and dropped the texts on their dining table with a worrisome wobble. “Where’re you headed? Someplace cool, I bet!”

“A, uh…” Peter really should have been able to think of something horribly uncool and boring a lot faster than this. “Dinner with my aunt.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet!” Wade folded his hands together and rested his head against them. Peter was both frightened and charmed. “I hope you have fun! Wish her a Happy Birthday from me!”

"It's not—" Peter immediately changed his mind. "Sure thing!" And made his quick retreat.

-o-

The thing was, Peter liked to give a couple hours to patrolling every night, but he was finding it harder and harder to think up reasons to be out that late. 

He tried pretending he had a class, but everyone knew classes didn’t actually go until midnight, so that excuse only worked as often as Peter could make up something he might’ve got caught up talking to his professors about. 

Which wasn’t that short of a list, given Peter was a bonafide nerd, but he didn’t want to use up that resource too quickly. 

He also couldn’t claim to have dinner with his aunt every single night. It worked a couple nights a week, but that was all Peter got out of it. 

MJ and Harry made for pretty decent excuses, except Wade was guaranteed to meet them eventually and the risk of getting caught in the lie was too great. 

So Peter had to resort to other, less reliable excuses. 

“I, uh, need to run to the store and buy more socks,” he said.

“Okay!” Wade chirped. He was so agreeable. Peter both loved and hated it. “So, I’ll see you back here in about an hour?”

Peter hesitated. “I take my sock buying very seriously.”

Wade studied him intently. “...So, two hours?”

“Don’t wait up!” Peter shouted and ran for the door.

-o-

Peter was already late for tonight's patrol. He rushed into the dorm and straight through to his room. In the middle of peeling his shirt off to reveal the super suit underneath, he heard, "Hi, Peterson! I just got this new deck of cards. Wanna play a game?"

Fuck. 

Peter was hoping he could get out unnoticed. 

"Um," he said. "I…" need to throw myself out of this window. "Am really tired. I'm just gonna go to sleep early tonight. Sorry!"

"No worries, Pete-the-sweet!" Wade said through the door. "You deserve a good rest. Goodnight!"

Peter sighed in relief. "Goodnight!"

…Then removed the rest of his casual clothes, pulled on his mask, and threw himself out of his bedroom window.

-o-

Peter was almost out of the door, when—

"Hey, McPeter! Wanna grab some takeout?"

"I would love to, but…" Peter chewed on the inside of his lip while he thought in a panic. "I already ate!"

Wade stared at him. "You've been in your room for the past three hours and never left to go to the kitchen."

"Yes," Peter confirmed. Then he stared. Then he ran.

-o-

“I need to rescue my grandma from a tree,” Peter said. “Again.”

Wade stared in abject confusion for several long seconds. Peter was sure he’d be called out this time. 

Instead, Wade’s expression cleared. “Yeah, okay, sure, Pete-ster. I’ll see you in the morning!”

Peter would have sighed in relief, except for that last part. That last part broke something inside of him, because it meant Wade knew Peter wasn’t coming back tonight. It meant Wade had noticed the pattern of his behavior. It meant Wade didn’t believe a single one of Peter’s excuses, and was just letting him run off every night like clockwork. 

It meant Wade wasn’t that gullible.

It meant Peter had to be found out.

Wade was just letting him get away with it.

Right?

Peter couldn’t take it anymore. The excuses were stupid, the pressure was overwhelming, the tension was ready to snap, and Peter was not emotionally prepared to keep making a fool of himself for no reason. 

“Are you really going to buy that?” Peter heard himself ask.

Wade stopped short. “What do you mean, Princess Pete?”

“I mean,” Peter said, “Wade. Come on. Do you really not see that I’m Spider-man?”

Wade shook his head and tutted at him. “Petey, that’s not how you Secret Identity.”

Peter was speechless. What?

“Now get out there, Baby Boy,” Wade continued with a playful wink, “kick some ass, and I’ll pretend I never heard that.”

…

Guess Peter would just go on making a fool of himself, then.

[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x reader (part 7)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.  

word count: 2.5k

warnings: um just implied smut and fluff and a reference to bdsm I guess?? but it's pretty chill overall

Liked by starkcosmetics and others

y/n.y/l/n okay first of all, it takes an act of god to get a picture of this guy smiling, but it’s always worth it.  he really changed everything for me and I can’t thank him enough for that.  so happy ❤️ 

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caroldanvers 😍😍😍

flowercrowny/n oh my god this is so sweet i’m gonna cry

1 HOUR AGO

He smiled as he stared down at the post you’d made, remembering how much effort you’d put into finding the perfect picture (in your opinion; he thought he looked kinda dopey in it) as well as writing and re-writing your caption.

The speed at which your post gained likes and comments was inconceivable to him; even more impressive was the speed at which gossip rags were picking up the story.  Sure enough, his phone’s alerts to new headlines about you were not only going off like crazy, but had started to include news about himself as well.  

Y/N Y/L/N Shocks With Romantic Instagram Post, Confirms Dating Rumors

You’ll Never Guess Which Hollywood Starlet Is Dating Her Driver

Who is James Barnes?  Everything We Know About Y/N Y/L/N’s New Beau

Skimming one of the articles, he was impressed at how much information they’d managed to get without actually getting anything from you or him.  Born in Brooklyn, disabled Army veteran, worked a list of odd jobs before becoming your driver and bodyguard.  ‘No social media presence, prefers to keep a low profile’ one of them said; you can say that again, Bucky chuckled to himself when he read it.

He found another from People and didn’t particularly appreciate that it spent half the time going through all your past exes and rumored partners (turned out ‘rumored’ is a fancy word for ‘a bunch of fans deluded themselves so hard that it somehow turned into news without any proof necessary’).  But he still smiled when he got to the part that was actually about you and him.

‘The relationship is pretty new but they’re so happy together,’  a source close to the couple reported.  

Close indeed; that statement came from your publicist, who he’d never even meet.  

‘He’s a very private guy and she’s got this huge following, so they’re sort of an odd couple in that way, but she knows her fans are respectful and will let them have their own life outside of the spotlight.’ 

Bucky wasn’t sure that the respectfulness of fans was such a given here, but he hoped you were right.  To be fair, they’d been very sweet on your original post insofar. 

However, when he scrolled to the bottom of the celebrity magazine articles and realized they had their own comments section, he discovered that they were a little less forgiving than the ones on your Instagram.  

Is this the best she thinks she can do?  So sad tbh :(

a military guy…. yikes, she could get any guy she wants and she goes for a murderer. 

He looks like a hobo that found a coupon for a free haircut lol

I don’t buy it, I know she’ll always love Pietro!

Pietro being your former co-star that so many of your fans were convinced was actually your soulmate.  From what he’d heard from you, those speculations had made things so uncomfortable between the two of you that it killed your friendship.  Those were nothing, though, compared to the comments about someone you actually had dated.

she’s obviously not over sam… they were so good together

He’d better watch out for her ex, he still likes tweets about her and they have so much chemistry

Wait, she’s not still with Sam Wilson??  I could’ve sworn they’d been dating for, like, five years.

You were scrolling through your phone with a smile as you walked past where he was sitting on the couch, and he just couldn’t help himself from asking even though he knew it wasn’t the best idea.  “Do I need to worry about this Sam thing?” he blurted out, trying to play it cool and not sound too anxious.  “People are really obsessed with you two…”

“Sam and I…” you sighed, staring off into space for a second.  He made himself anxious imagining what you were thinking about in that moment.  “I haven’t talked to him in… years?  I think it’s just because our relationship was so public that people are still talking about it.  And it had a lot of gossip material— we did a movie together, people thought it was sweet that we got together during production, it was great promotion for the picture… and from the outside, we made a lot of sense for each other.  But he has his own problems.  I loved him, but… he wasn’t ever going to be a one-girl kinda guy.”

“But you’re not just any one girl.  You’re… you know, you,” he emphasized.

“You’ve been reading too many headlines,” you shook your head as you sat down beside him.  “Please don’t turn into one of those guys who thinks of me as a celebrity first.  Before that—” you pointed to your own name where it was bolded on his screen in the trending topics page of Twitter— “was popping up on movie posters and in gossip magazines, it was just my name.  And I’m not perfect.  Not even close.”

Bucky sighed and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into him and holding you tightly.  “And before I knew you were famous, or rich, or incredibly talented, I was totally obsessed with you just for who you are.”

“You’re too fucking amazing,” you sighed as you held his face and gave him a gentle kiss— the kind of kiss that instantly melted his heart and banished his worries.  When you pulled back and looked up at him with a smile, it was like everything else just… faded away.  “Don’t read the comments, okay?  None of them matter.”

He smiled and brushed his thumb over your cheek, overwhelmed by not only the softness of your skin but of your spirit as well.  In all his life he’d never been handled so… gently, with so much care.  “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he mumbled, not even really realizing he’d said it aloud until you gave him a beaming smile.

“I can’t believe you’re my boyfriend,” you giggled pridefully.

“Seriously?  I can… very easily believe it,” he scoffed.

“I just mean… you’re so…” you searched for the words.  “You’re actually good to me, that’s the thing.  I’m not used to that.”

“You deserve the world,” he assured.  “I’m just gonna keep trying to give you as much of it as I can find.”

He watched his hand trail over your face, down your neck and to your chest where he played with the hem of your t-shirt.

"It's odd to know there are millions of people who are jealous of me,” he admitted quietly, remembering some aggressive comments from some very angry dudes who had apparently also watched your nude scene a few too many times.

"Do you like it?  Do you like how it feels to know you're making them angry every time you touch me?"

"Couldn't care less," he refuted.  "Nobody else matters when I'm touchin' you."

“Do you maybe wanna… touch me a little more about it?” you smirked, opening your legs slightly in invitation.

“Always.”

//

Bucky had, thankfully, not let the newfound fame get to his head.  In fact, he had demanded that the two of you hunker down in the house, since he feared that going out would lead to being recognized.  What he apparently hadn’t anticipated was that that might not be enough.

“Will you get that?” you requested when the gate buzzed, too wrapped up in the book you were reading to answer the intercom.

He hopped up and held down the button to communicate with the gate speaker.  “Who is it?” he asked.

“I’ve got a delivery from Anjappar Chettinad on 23rd?”

Bucky didn’t even reply before hitting the green button and granting access to the driveway.  BEEP BEEP BEEP! you heard the gate signal its opening, and the car pulling around up to the door.  Bucky didn’t open it until there was a knock, greeting the delivery guy with a smile and the necessary cash.

“I’ve got a lamb korma, hyderabadi mutton dum biryani and an order of— woah,” the man suddenly stopped, staring at Bucky’s face.  “Are you—?’

“Hungry?  Yes,” he frowned.

“You’re the guy dating— holy shit, congrats man,” he beamed, smacking Bucky on the shoulder pridefully before leaning in with a mischievous smirk.  “Say, is she a freak or what?”

“She is,” you piped up from the couch, making both men turn their heads; but one was chuckling while the other looked mortified.  “You better not have forgotten my paneer pakora or I’m gonna chain you up and whip you.”

“Uh, I— no, I got it right here,” he promised weakly, handing the bag over to Bucky and starting to dash away before Bucky grabbed his arm, making the smaller man whimper fearfully.

“You forgot the money,” Bucky reminded him gruffly, stuffing the bills into the driver’s front pocket.

Finally, he let go, and the delivery man instantly pulled away, rubbing his arm and looking a bit like a kicked puppy as he went back to his car and drove away.

“You didn’t need to scare him that bad,” Bucky chuckled.

“I could say the same to you!  Grabbing somebody with the metal arm like that will put the fear of God into them pretty fast.”

“I didn’t mean to grab him that hard,” he admitted, examining the prosthetic hand as he came back to the couch with the bag of food, handing it to you while he focused on watching his motorized fingers curl and uncurl.  “I think I need to get this thing recalibrated… it’s been bugging out lately.”

“I dunno, it was working just fine last night,” you smiled, remembering how delightfully cool those fingers felt inside you.

Bucky seemed to miss it entirely, though, as he stared off into space.  “I can’t believe I got… recognized.”

“You’re a star,” you winked.  “And not just with random delivery drivers.  I’ve had a lot of press requests, everybody wants to be the first one to get nice pictures of us together— we’ve had a dozen event invites as a couple.”

“Seriously?!” he scoffed, snapping back to reality slightly enough 

“Yeah, and look what came in same-day mail this morning!”  You leaned over to shuffle through the mail on the side table before finding and handing him a letter in a gold-embossed envelope, watching him read what you knew was inside.

The Hollywood Foreign Press Association extends an invitation to Y/N Y/L/N and James Barnes to the annual Grant Banquet in support of the Young Artists Fund.

“It seems like a good first event for us,” you explained.  “Relatively small and low stakes, it’s for a good cause…”

“Are you sure I’m ready to be, you know… seen?  By people?” 

You scoffed, hardly believing how insecure he could be sometimes.  “You look great, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Will I have to talk to anybody other than you?” he asked, grimacing as if that were a form of brutal torture.

“Probably,” you admitted.

His frown deepened.  “What if I say the wrong thing?”

“I’m not that worried about you,” you smirked.  “You’re a lot better at this stuff than you think you are.”

“I don’t have anything to wear…”

You smirked, a little too proud of yourself, when you remembered the email your publicist had forwarded to you just this morning.  “Hugo Boss will pay you $1500 to wear one of their suits on the carpet.”

“They’ll pay me to wear free clothes?” he repeated with wide eyes.

“Yeah, that’s one of the cooler things about fame,” you laughed.  “I make a grand every time I wear this watch outside!”

“I guess I should send them my measurements then…” he trailed off.  “Any chance I can get in on that watch deal?”

“No, but you can make $50 by getting papped at Jamba Juice.”

He paused for a moment, scratching the back of his neck as he thought.  “Is the smoothie comped?”

“I don’t know.  Do you want me to ask?”

“...kinda…” he admitted with a shy smile.  

“Well, I will, and I’ll RSVP to this invite saying we’ll be there next week,” you decided as you started to open up the food, but Bucky stopped you by reaching for your hands.

“Are we really doing this?” he asked.

“If you want to,” you mitigated.

“Of course I do.  I guess I have to accept that you’re actually willing to be seen with me,” he chuckled.  “It’s just sort of hard to believe.”

You leaned in and kissed him; it was meant to be a casual, reassuring peck but he held you closer and you melted into him, moaning softly at his touch as you started to climb into his lap.

“The food’s gonna get cold,” he reminded you with a mumble against your lips.

Unfortunately, your literal hunger was a bit too strong to ignore, even with the growing intensity of a metaphorical hunger for Bucky.  “Alright,” you relented, getting off of him and returning your attention to the meal on the table.  “Just know that I really, really want to be seen together, in public, just in case anybody missed the news about us already.  I’m not embarrassed by you or afraid you’re going to do something dumb.  I…”

One of those words that can’t be unsaid started to bubble up in your throat and you coughed, banishing the thought.

“I really like you.  I think we have something special.”

He smiled gently, giving you one more kiss on the cheek.  “I think so, too.”

//

Since this was slightly less of a big deal than a premiere or press tour, you had managed to convince your styling team to let you dress yourself, which was why he was laying on the bed and talking to you through the bathroom door while you put on your gown.

“Do you want me to hire a new driver?” you prompted him, voice muffled slightly as he imagined your head covered in the fabric, trying to navigate through the dress.  “I don’t want you to feel… I don’t know, like a servant?”

“A servant?  You’re still paying me,” he reminded you.  “You are still paying me, right?”

“Yes,” you laughed, “but still, I would hate it if you felt like staff.  You’re my boyfriend!”

(His heart still fluttered every time you said it.)

“No new driver,” he decided.  “I can drive just fine, and considering how things went between us… let’s not open the door for anybody else,” he smirked, making you laugh in that way you did when he made a stupid joke but you still liked it somehow.

“Okay, sure, but what about being my bodyguard?  Is that too weird?” you continued.

“God no,” he scoffed, “if anything I’m gonna be better at my job than ever.  As your boyfriend, keeping you safe is my job, but since keeping you safe was already my job… it’s, like, doubled-up now.”

He lost his train of thought when you opened the door.

“How do I look?” you asked as you stepped in and gave him a spin in your new dress.  Your whole body was draped in red silk, with the exception of your back which was almost entirely exposed, as if it were begging him to run his fingers down your spine.

“Like everything I ever wanted,” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

And it was so odd that you questioned his desire to drive you, because those moments where he could steer with one hand and rest the other on your thigh, when he could catch a glimpse of you looking out the window at the city rolling by, when he got to listen to you ramble about something to kill the time during a drive; those were his favorite moments, and he wouldn’t trade them for anything.

After a relatively brief trip, you arrived at the venue, and all of a sudden he was doing what he’d fantasized about more than he’d like to admit: escorting you down a red carpet.  It was almost overwhelming— yelling, chattering, reporters speaking into camera, flashes going off in every direction—

“Hey,” you whispered, bringing your hand up to his cheek and instantly taking all his attention.

“Hey,” he returned.

“Just follow my lead,” you instructed.

“That was the plan.”

[postmodernmulticoloredcloak]

The shifting narrative of God’s interventism and how it reflects on the narrative on John

This post will ignore the issue authorial intent entirely because I can, but it’s also about authorial intent in a way, but I also don’t like to talk about things as happening “accidentally” because a) a serialized story like Supernatural, especially one that got renewed for much longer than anyone could possibly expect or hope in their wildest ambitions, structurally relies on serendipity, because that’s how stories work when they’re work in progress, b) a television show is an extremely multi-authored text and the chance that something happens out of the intent of any of the multiple layers of creators is kind of... statistically negligible. So, yeah, that’s my stance on the topic. Anyway.

The shifting narrative about God is simultaneously something that hangs on fortunate storytelling clicks on an essentially programmed narrative. At first, we don’t know where the fuck God is. Cas starts looking for him with little success. Raphael says he’s dead, Cas doesn’t believe it. Dean relates to his struggle because he knows the feeling of not knowing where the fuck your father is and going looking for him with little success, not knowing if he’s even alive. Then the theory that gets assumed as the truth is that God has left. He fucked off who knows where, who knows why, leaving his creation to struggle alone. Also essentially how Dean had felt after John had died; in that case there was guilt for his demon deal and everything, but the most cruel weight on Dean’s shoulder was that John left him alone to struggle with his devastatingly horrific instructions he doesn’t understand. The angels are also left with horrific instructions they don’t understand. No wonder Cas does his own ‘demon deal’ in season 6, as he desperately tries to do what he assumes his father wants from him, but he doesn’t actually know what that is.

“God has left” is maddening, and everyone is angry about it, but it has its own dignity. God has left us without clear instructions, we are confused and in pain and evil runs amock but at least, we suppose, the evil of it is our own doing. We are alone and we do our best, our best is simply not enough. We wish he gave us guidance, but he won’t. He wants us to figure it out ourselves, possibly. We don’t actually know what he wants. But maybe that’s the point. It’s possible he doesn’t even know what’s happening, he just has left the building entirely.

But then Chuck reveals himself. We find out that he never actually left. He was there. “I like front row seats. You know, I figured I’d hide out in plain sight”. He simply chooses not to intervene. He chooses not to answer. He chooses to be hands-off. He presents himself as a laissez-faire parent, because, he says, it’s better for his children to have the responsibility they need to grow up. He’s absent, but in a different way than we thought! It’s not that he doesn’t know what’s happening or isn’t interested in knowing what’s happening. He’s here, he knows what’s happening, he just stays there and watches as you stumble and struggle and scream. It’s worse, and it pains Dean so much he isn’t even afraid to yell at God. You know we’re suffering and you just don’t give us any support, any comfort.

You’re frustrated. I get it. Believe me, I was hands-on, real hands-on, for, wow, ages. I was so sure if I kept stepping in, teaching, punishing, that these beautiful creatures that I created... would grow up. But it only stayed the same. And I saw that I needed to step away and let my baby find its way. Being overinvolved is no longer parenting. It’s enabling.

But it didn’t get better.

Well, I’ve been mulling it over. And from where I sit, I think it has.

Well, from where I sit, it feels like you left us and you’re trying to justify it.

I know you had a complicated upbringing, Dean, but don’t confuse me with your dad.

At that point of the show, the writing team almost certainly didn’t have the s14-15 twist in mind. So this was probably intended to be Chuck’s truth. Later it gets twisted (retconned?) into a lie, but about that later.

Here, Chuck is really good at manipulating the conversation. Dean has a perfectly valid point, because there IS a middle ground between being overinvolved and not being involved at all. There is a middle ground between enabling your children and abandoning them completely. But Chuck hits Dean where it hurts, plays the emotional card, basically tells him that he’s too emotional to understand, too emotional to think rationally about it, because he mixes his feelings about his father to the issue and thus cannot see it clearly. He basically tells him he’s too close to it to get it. You don’t understand parenting, Dean, because you’re too blinded by your emotions about your own little life and cannot see the big picture.

It doesn’t really matter here if he’s telling the truth or lying, it already says a lot about Chuck that he’s emotionally manipulating Dean, silencing him by hitting the painful spot.

But the thing is, 11.20 immediately presents Chuck as a liar. He makes Metatron read his autobiography and the very first line is a lie (“In the beginning, there was me. Boom – detail. And what a grabber. I mean, I’m hooked, and I was there.” “I’m hooked too, and yet... details. You weren’t alone in the beginning. Your sister was with you.”) and the stuff he talks about his experience as Chuck is not exactly truthful about anything (“That, you know, makes you seem like a really grounded, likable person.” “Yeah, what’s wrong with that?” “You are neither grounded nor a person!”). Metatron calls him out (“Okay. There are two types of memoir. One is honest... the other, not so much. Truth and fairy tale. Now, do you want to write Life by Keith Richards? Or do you want to write Wouldn’t It Be Nice by Brian Wilson?”). Chuck SAYS he chooses truth and gives Metatron a different manuscript, supposedly containing the truth, to which Metatron reacts positively. Metatron believes it, and we believe it with him.

Oh! Oh, this! This is what I was talking about. Chapter Ten “Why I Never Answer Prayers, and You Should Be Glad I Don’t”, and Chapter Eleven “The Truth About Divine Intervention and Why I Avoid It At All Costs”.

Nature? Divine. Human nature – toxic.

They do like blowing stuff up.

Yeah. And the worst part – they do it in my name. And then they come crying to me, asking me to forgive, to fix things. Never taking any responsibility.

What about your responsibility?

I took responsibility... by leaving. At a certain point, training wheels got to come off. No one likes a helicopter parent.

This is sort of what he later says to Dean, except that to Dean he talks about “beautiful creatures” “my baby”, talks about helping, none of the harsh tone he’s using here. When Metatron accuses him of hiding from Amara, he retorts “I am not hiding. I am just done watching my experiments’ failures”. What a different language, uh? Then Metatron asks him why he abandoned them, and Chuck answers “Because you disappointed me. You all disappointed me”. Then, he admits he lied about “learning” to play the guitar and so on, because he just gave himself the ability, and then appears to Dean and Sam, after Metatron’s passionate speech about humanity.

So, no matter the authorial intent at the time - the truthiness of Chuck’s words was already ambiguous. He kept lying and being called out, or silencing the conversation with some good ol’ gaslighting.

The season 14 finale introduces the big twist: it was, indeed, all a lie. The whole of it. Chuck didn’t abandon shit. It was all him, minutely controlling the narrative of the universe, putting the characters through all the pain and struggles for his own amusement.

The “absent father” narrative was a lie.

What does this tell us about John? Nothing, according to the authorial intent that shines through Dabb’s Lebanon. But we don’t give a crap about Dabb’s authorial intent about John! He’s just one dude and plenty of other authors have painted a different picture. So I’m going to read the narrative the way I want, because I can, and the narrative allows me to. It’s all there.

I’m suggesting that the fact that Chuck lied when he talked about being a hands-off/absentee father parallels how Dean and Sam prefer to think of their father as an “absent father” when that’s not exactly a reflection of the truth.

You left us. Alone. ‘Cause Dad was just a shell. [...] And I-I had to be more than just a brother. I had to be a father and I had to be a mother, to keep him safe.

Setting aside how “I had to be a father and I had to be a mother” sort of retcons and cleans up the Winchester family picture painted by ealier seasons, the fact that John didn’t really count as a functional father figure and Dean and Sam were essentually alone is not incorrect or anything. It is true that John would leave them to their own devices a lot, thus the long stays in motels, the hunger, the food-stealing, and all. But John wasn’t always absent, at all. He trained them as soldiers, he disciplined them, he was around enough for them to be intimately familiar with what happened when he drank. He drove them around.

It’s almost like it’s preferable to Dean and Sam to spin their own “absent father” narrative, putting the accent on the time they spent alone, painting their childhood as a time they had to grow up on their own, rather than acknowledge they grew up under the thumb of a controlling, looming figure they would regularly live in fear of, even when he was not physically present.

The “absent father” narrative is what Dean and Sam need to use to avoid confronting the reality of the father figure whose moods and whims they had to dance around. “I know things got dicey... you know, with Dad... the way he was. And I just... I didn’t always look out for you the way that I should have. I mean, I had my own stuff, you know. In order to keep the peace, probably looked like I took his side quite a bit.”

John shaped their lives. He shaped their identities. Even in the episodes where he abandons Dean or both children somewhere, he’s portrayed as the figure who drives the car. He symbolically drives the car, you know? John shaped Dean and Sam’s relationship with each other, both on a surface level (the conflicts) and on a deeper level (the parental dynamic).

Heck. The entire first season of the show plays on John’s disappearance as the “elephant in the room”. John is there by not being there, you know? And after he dies, his death - his absence - is again the elephant in the room for Dean, the weight on his psyche that he shatters under.

It is not wrong that Dean and Sam had to spend long periods of time without John. But John structured their lives in quite minute detail. Where they needed to be, what they needed to do, what they must not do, everything had to follow John’s instructions. A drill sergeant, the narrative called him, ordering how his sons needed to live their lives. That’s no absence, except on a level where Chuck not showing himself and pretending he’s not there can be considered absent. That’s a presence, not necessarily always physical, but semiotical and psychological.

John is an absent father as much as Chuck is a hands-off god. He even writes himself into the story around the time Cas has the “season 1” phase (let’s go look for dad/let’s go look for god), which is when John actually was alive and appeared. Then he was no longer physically there, but he was still shaping his characters’ lives, just like he’d always done.

The “absent father” narrative on John is that - a narrative. Spun by the characters themselves because it’s easier and actually kinder on John. Or, better, it allows them not to be crushed by the psychological implications of having to accept that their father was such a looming, minutely formative figure in their lives. They know, but they can wave the “absent father” idea around to avoid thinking about it.

“I had to be a father and I had to be a mother” is something easier to tell yourself. I was the one who did it all. But he wasn’t, and that’s the problem. The fact that John was their father - Dean’s and Sam’s - is the problem. But ironically, blaming himself for every failure is a better option for Dean than fully acknowledging John’s abuse. As long as he blames himself, he has control over it. The moment he acknowledges the extent of John’s influence, he loses control over the entire narrative of his own identity and the family identity, the family dynamics. That’s scarier, just like realizing that God manipulated everything is much scarier than the alternative. “God abandoned us” was indeed a better option, and “John left us alone” was a better option. But neither was true, and the characters faced the implications of the cosmic level, but never got to face the implication of the familial level, because the narrative always danced around it and then Dabb’s apologist version “won”.

But what’s been put in the show is still there. The narrative of John’s abuse is still there. Nothing can take it out of the story.

[oopsitsstella]

A Soldier Comes Home

Peter Parker x Mom! Reader, Sam Wilson x Reader

Fandom: The MCU

Parker-Wilson Family Masterlist: More stories in the same universe

Warnings: Some angst, but it’s not too bad, me not knowing things about being a soldier, so I most likely got things wrong

A/N: Peter is 11 years old in the first section of the fic, and 16 in the second one. Peter acts a bit younger than an eleven year old in the first part, but let’s just go with it. Also, Sam isn’t Peter’s actual dad, Y/N already had Peter when she and Sam started dating.

2012

It was five in the morning on a chilly November day at LaGuardia Airport. Y/N Parker was kneeling in front of her son Peter, wiping the tears off his cheeks, while her sister and boyfriend stood behind them, watching the interaction.

“I don’t want you to go.” Peter said quietly.

A sad smile crept onto Y/N’s face, and she brought Peter in so she could hug him properly.

“I know you don’t. I don’t either, but duty calls.” She tells him, pulling back slightly to look at his face.

“Mom has to go be a hero.” Sam speaks up, and Peter turns his head to look at him.

“Like Iron Man?” He asks, looking back at his mom.

“Yeah. Exactly like Iron Man.” Sam chuckles.

“I’m cooler though, aren’t I?” Y/N asks, and Peter cracks a smile.

“You’ll always be the coolest.” He says, before more tears slip down his face.

“Oh, my darling boy.” Y/N sighs, hugging him again. “It’ll be okay. Sam and May will look after you, and I’ll call, or write letters as often as I can.” She promised him, while Sam crouched down next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You trust me, right?” He asked, trying to lighten the mood. It seemingly worked, seeing as Peter let out a teary laugh.

“Yeah.” He said, and Sam also gave him a quick hug.

The two adults stood up again, and May came and put a hand on her nephews shoulder, while Y/N wrapped her arms around Sam.

“Promise you’ll be careful?” He asked.

“I always am.” She assured him, pressing her lips firmly against his. They kept their embrace for a while longer, before pulling away.

Y/N then moved to her sister, giving her a hug too.

“I’ll miss you.” May said quietly.

“I’ll miss you too.” Y/N whispered, tightening her arms around May for a moment before letting go.

“Think you’re ready to go?” Sam asked.

“Not quite.” Y/N said, crouching down to the ground. “Can I have one last hug, Pete?”

Peter didn’t hesitate a second, launching himself into his mom’s arms, one last embrace before she left.

When they let go of each other, Y/N stood back up, and gripped onto her bag.

“I’ll call as soon as I can after I land.” She promised.

One last goodbye from her small family, and off she went.

2017

It had been five years since Y/N saw her son in person. Five years.

Yeah, it came with being a soldier, she knew that, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Not being able to see her son, her boyfriend or her sister for such a long time was not a good feeling. So when Y/N received the news that her deployment was ending, rest assured she was over the moon.

She knew Peter would most likely be in school, so she instead decided to call Sam.

“Hi Sam.” She spoke into the phone.

“Hey Baby. How are you doing?” Sam’s voice greeted.

“I’m doing… spectacular, honestly.”

“Oh really? Any particular reason, or is it just a good day?”

“There is a very particular reason.” Y/N couldn’t help the giddiness seeping into her voice. “My deployment’s ended. I’m coming home.”

“What?! Seriously? You’re not messing with me?”

“Samuel, would I joke about this?”

“Touché, no you wouldn’t.” Sam said. “Do Peter and May know?”

“No, they don’t. I figured Peter’ in school, and May wasn’t answering, so I called you.”

“Well, don’t I feel special now.” Sam said, making Y/N laugh. “When are you coming back?”

“Well, me and the other soldiers who are coming back are getting a flight, it leaves Wednesday night, so two days from now, so if all goes according to plan I’ll be landing at around noon on Thursday.” Y/N explained. “Oh, but that means Peter will be in school when I get home, doesn’t it?”

“It does indeed, sadly.” Sam said. “But I’m sure we could get Peter out of school for the day so he could come greet you.”

“Is it bad I kinda don’t want to tell him so I can surprise him on Thursday?” Y/N spoke hesitantly, and Sam laughed.

“No, I don’t think so. You wanna surprise him?”

“I kinda do.” Y/N chuckled. She could hear the sound of fingers snapping, before Sam spoke again.

“I have an idea. Tony’s been wanting to have dinner with the whole team, May and Peter included, and I also happen to know, and I think you do too, that he’s been wanting to actually meet you in person.”

Y/N had met her son’s superhero mentor a few times when she had been on the phone with Peter, and Tony also happened to be around.

“Sam, are you saying what I think you are?” Y/N asked.

“I mean, great minds think alike, right?” He said, and Y/N laughed.

That day, Sam and Y/N, along with Tony and May made a plan. May would come pick Y/N up from the airport that Thursday, and they would spend some time together. Then Sam would come pick her up, and they would also spend time together, before heading to the tower. Then, later that night, Peter and May would come to the tower for dinner with the team, and there Y/N would be. Ready to see her son for the first time in 5 long years.

“I missed you so much. You don’t even know.” Y/N whispered, tightening her arms around Sam’s neck.

Sam had just pulled up outside the apartment complex where May and Peter lived, where Y/N had been waiting for him, and as soon as he was out of the car, Y/N had launched herself into Sam’s arms.

“If it���s anywhere near as much as I missed you, I think I have a pretty good idea.” Sam replied.

Y/N pulled back slightly to look at her boyfriend. Much like May, he hadn’t changed much, but she was almost thankful for that. It was nice coming home to familiar faces.

“Still as handsome as ever.” She said quietly, placing a hand on his cheek.

“And you’re still as beautiful as when I last saw you.” Sam replied smoothly.

“And you haven’t lost your charm.”

“I could never.”

“Fair enough.” Y/N whispered, before placing her lips on his.

“Peter, come on! We have to go!” May called to her nephew.

“Mr. Stark isn’t going to be mad if we’re a little late!” Peter called back.

“That doesn’t mean we have to be.” May responded as Peter walked into the hallway. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

The car ride to the tower was mostly filled with silence. The radio was on, playing music, and May and Peter talked a little bit, but it was mostly silent.

“May, are you okay?” Peter asked after a while. “You seem a little on edge.”

“I’m fine Peter.” May assured him, glancing at him before looking back at the road. “I’m just a bit nervous about meeting the team. I have only met Tony, Pepper and Happy before, you know. Other than Sam, of course.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. It was true that she hadn’t met most of the team yet, but it was most certainly not the reason she was a little nervous.

They soon arrived at the tower, and were greeted by Tony, Pepper and Sam standing at the entrance waiting for them.

“Hey buddy.” Sam said, giving Peter a hug, before giving one to May.

“Welcome, welcome.” Tony said, giving both Peter and May a hug as well, Pepper doing the same. “How are we doing on this fine evening?”

“I’m okay. I’m missing mom a little. Well, more than usual, I haven’t talked to her in a while.” Peter said.

“Well that’s okay.” Sam said, placing a hand on Peter’s shoulder as they all stepped into the elevator. “I’m sure we can make you feel a bit better.”

The five of them stepped out of the elevator, and walked through the kitchen.

“Mm, before I forget, I don’t know if May told you, but we have a special guest join us tonight.” Pepper told Peter as they stepped into the dining room.

“Oh really, who-“

Before Peter could finish his sentence, he stopped dead in his tracks. There, standing next to the couch, just a few feet away from him, stood his mom.

Her hair was a little longer than when he last saw her, and she looked a little tired, but there was no doubt about who it was.

“Mom?”

“Hi Peter.”

That was all it took before Peter was running towards her, and she caught him in a hug. Both of Peter’s arms wrapped around Y/N’s waist, while she placed one hand around his shoulder and one at the back of his head.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, tears in his eyes.

“I’m home.” She simply said.

“I missed you so much.” Peter whispered, tightening the hug.

“I missed you too.” Y/N replied, running her fingers through Peter's hair.

“Sam come here.” Peter said after a moment, reaching an arm out to him, making Y/N chuckle.

“Oh, I’m allowed to be part of the family moment?”

“You’ve been a part of this family for forever, now come here. You too May.” Peter said.

Sam let out a chuckle as May walked up to her sister and nephew, before he also joined the trio.

Y/N kept one arm around Peter, her other one moving to wrap around Sam. May had both her arms wrapped around Y/N and Peter, while Sam’s arms were encasing the whole group, Peter still in the middle hugging his mom.

Their family was finally back together again.

[missorgana]

call me what you want

pairing: bucky barnes/sam wilson

fandom: marvel cinematic universe

rating: general

word count: 2741

warning: alcohol, swearing

summary: Bucky thinks he quite likes Sam calling him nicknames, but he likes his smile more. (more tfatws canon compliant fluff.. just because!)

(look at me, once again ignoring exams to write stupid fluff instead. anyways! don’t have much to say but hope u enjoy!! <333 missing them already)

read on ao3

Bucky doesn’t realise just how long he’s been looking at Sam until the man glances over and calls him Buck.

When he thinks about it, his eyes never leave him. Not after those staring contests of theirs, which he’ll admit to himself and no one else that he’s the most responsible for. Not when Sam turns his back to him, focus returning to the mission and Joaquín and Redwing.

He’d roll his eyes at the nickname, but that would mean looking away from Sam, and losing eye contact with Sam.

“Don’t call me that,” he says instead, hopefully conveying his disagreement with a tight-lipped look. He considers smiling. Seems inappropriate.

The other man does smile, “Why not? It’s what Steve called you.”

Sam’s smile looks right. Feels right. Bucky’s had people smile at him before, sure, plenty, but it hasn’t ever felt exactly like this. He’s not sure what it means, though, so he pushes it the furthest way back into his consciousness.

“He knew me longer,” Bucky explains, pretending like it matters, “And Steve had a plan.”

The shorter man seems like he’s holding in a laugh, a smug one. That suggests he knows the obvious lie when he hears it. 

Bucky can see the gap between his teeth.

If he turns his own lips into a smile when Sam turns away again, the man currently preparing to jump out the chute doesn’t need to know. If he spots it and gives him a funny look, he doesn’t need to know the reason behind the smile. Bucky knows.

*

Because Sam’s always calling him a  cyborg, Bucky fumbles for some sort of retaliation. His name’s too short to make fun of, he contemplates. Damn him.

“I can see the gears turning,” the shorter man laughs, hard and out of breath. Bucky still can’t stop looking at him, for some reason. He bends over a bit when he laughs, picking up a faster pace than himself. Bucky makes sure to catch up.

His comeback ends up being, “Sure you can, birdman.”

He can tell the other man feigns offence, raised brows and nose scrunching at the edges. Sam smiles so easily. Bucky wonders what that’s like.

“Oh, I see how it is,” the man next to him speaks up, eyes dancing easily over the open, practically deserted field they’re surrounded by. There’s a car buzzing faintly a fair amount of miles away, Sam wouldn’t notice but he does, super soldier senses and all, “For the record, that movie’s not too bad.”

Bucky kicks a rock and some dirt to the side. The rock’s weird looking, all sharp edges, almost like spikes. Yet it’s so small. He decides to look at Sam instead, “What movie?”

A honk lets them know they’re not alone. He thinks this might be what disappointment feels like, because the other man stops himself after “I-” and shakes his head instead, causing Bucky’s brows to furrow and right hand to twitch and something sinking inside his stomach, “Nevermind.”

He has to remember to google that later.

*

Bucky doesn’t really care that Karli told Sam to come alone, because Sam also knows that he’ll be coming with him, no matter the protest.

He’s got a hunch Sam also knows that he was lying, again, reattaching his vibranium arm and gaining the senses back and pretending not to be all that shocked.

“You okay?” the man asks and he answers, “I’m fine.”

Of course. It’s fine. Kind of annoying, how Sam looks at him with a worried glance, trying to hide it but failing miserably. Bucky doesn’t look away when their eyes meet. The shorter man blinks, slowly, like a question.

And he always gestures for Sam to go first.

So he does, too, on the Wilsons’ boat, when he’s tightened near every damn screw and lifted every imaginable thing like it’s nothing, and yet the other man still refuses to ask for help. He accepts it when Bucky decides to put a cool hand on his hip, though.

Sam stills. He himself doesn’t move till the man in front of him does. Seconds seem like years.

“Alright, show-off, don’t overwork yourself,” he tells Bucky, laughing without much of the familiar smugness. The dimples in his cheeks are deeper now, wide eyes. Bucky expects Sam to be looking at his left arm, but his gaze is resting somewhere under his chin. His throat, above his chest.

He thinks he’s getting the hang of this nickname thing, “Sure thing, Sammy.”

And the other man throws a towel at him in response. “Sammy? What are you, five?”

Sam’s sweatshirt has a small hole in it. Near his hip, a tiny thread poking out. The fabric slides up when he raises his arm, revealing a sliver of his stomach. He imagines his skin to be soft, like his arm. It seems the man notices his fixated stare on the spot, looking for whatever the subject of his attention, wiping his forehead in the hem.

Bucky shrugs, “Give or take a hundred years.”

He understands why Sam’s chuckle doesn’t reach his brown eyes at that. What he doesn’t understand is his pupils, significantly dilated. Stupid serum advancement, stupid awareness.

A spot of sunlight touches the other man’s face, and he squints, covering himself with a hand, moving out of Bucky’s sight.

This is how he realises he’s still holding a grip on the now tightened pipe, harder than he thought. He’ll make sure to fix the bending he caused before Sam notices.

*

Sam is a good dancer. Not that Bucky’s an expert on it or anything, far from it, but he’s not tripping over his own feet or cursing or slinging his sister around like a ragdoll.

His nephews are jumping around them, too, a couple of their neighbours in a slow dance, another reaching out and offering Bucky a beer, which he accepts. The serum doesn’t allow him to be affected much, unless he deliberately seeks being unsensibly drunk, but he likes the bitter taste, regardless.

Sarah straightens her brother’s arm and rolls her eyes in the direction of himself.

Sam turns his head about a millisecond later, winking before spinning her around. It’s smooth as hell, despite not breaking eye contact with Bucky. 

"Come on, Buckaroo!" the shorter man raises his voice, nickname just plain awful, "Get up here."

Bucky decides to shake his head as a reply, he's always preferred observing, really. Besides, he thinks he might be too quick on his feet. Too spinny, urging to not stand still.

Sam doesn't drag him up. He didn't expect him to, but it still surprised him, for some reason. The shorter man looks severely gentle with his hands on the small of Sarah's back, not surprising.

He gets a shake of the man's head and a shimmy of his shoulders. "Man, you're no fun."

Bucky huffs, “Whatever you say, darling.” Sam blinks in disbelief at the name. Sarah snaps him out to carry on with the dance. He likes having the man’s attention, he thinks.

He considers hiding his smile behind the rim of the glass. But really, there’s no need to, and he doesn’t feel like it.

The other man always grins as opposed to simply smiling. It grows just an inch when he notices Bucky smiling back, and there’s these tiny, sensitive hairs standing up on the back of his neck, he feels it immediately. Blood rushing to his face. Maybe it’s just the alcohol.

Just about every window in their house is open, his t-shirt sticks ever so slightly to his lower back with sweat, and a moth is fluttering around the lamp in the corner. It’s comical, tiny wings and body staying so close to that light, not really doing anything.

Eventually it’ll die, he guesses. Well, it has to, of course. But when the living room thins out and the light dies and everything turns quiet, it’ll simply wander around, lost, until that warm glow returns.

That stupid bug bathes in the light like it’s the only thing in life that matters. Bucky feels a sudden urge to look at Sam again, and the other man isn’t looking at him anymore, but it doesn't matter, his presence is enough.

Actually, he thinks he might fear looking away from Sam. Scared he’ll miss something, anything. A look or a smile or a joke or a movement. Some warmth radiating off of him, because the man has so much that he doesn’t even mind giving away a little to his surroundings. 

Bucky’s quite like the moth, in that sense.

*

Now, Bucky didn’t plan on kissing Sam today.

He’d been planning on it, or he wanted to  ask , but most times it was like the certain moment faded too quickly and he felt guilty for not doing anything about it.

When he woke up to AJ and Cass playing with the shield and the man cooking breakfast in a tank top, Bucky wondered if he should do it, then. It felt weird to try with both his nephews and sister in the kitchen though. He also sort of wished he had gone for it on the lower deck of the boat. Maybe Sam would think it was inappropriate when they were working.

When they circulated around each other the last few days, training, talking, Bucky gaining a deeper understanding for the other man and finding a way to convey an apology that sounds  right, it feels like they’re more of a team.

Connected. Stronger, maybe. Sam doesn’t need his super soldier strength at all, though, but it being wanted anyway, that makes him want to smile more. As much as the shorter man, maybe, if he’s capable.

Bucky decides the next time, the next moment, it’ll come, like all the other moments he’s been discovering and making him sort of breathless. In a good way.

“Thanks for the help,” Sam tells him, instead of a goodbye, “It meant a lot.”

Usually, these sentimental moments they keep having will be ended by the other man lightening the mood, so to speak. Not breaking it, just making it airy and familiar. His stupid jokes that aren’t even stupid, or annoying, anymore, they just remind Bucky of something like safety. He hasn’t asked, and Sam hasn’t said, but he feels like he’ll be there if he falls down. He’d do the same for him.

The man doesn’t joke around, now, despite himself attempting to muster the same smugness, “Of course.” He feels like it sounds more sarcastic than he intended. 

He quite likes that boat. Likes the people on it more. One particular person.

Bucky really thinks that’s the end of their conversation, their own way of saying  see you around  , but instead a voice catches him when he turns around, “I’m just telling the truth, baby.”

Naturally, he turns back, but now Sam’s got his back turned.

Funny, how they keep going back and forth like that. Watching, even when the other isn’t looking. He knows he’s been doing that a lot, there’s no denying it.

A feeling in his hand, the way it twitches, makes Bucky feel like this might be a new moment.

“Wilson!”

He doesn’t really wait for a reaction before following. Like the moth. Meant to follow. When Sam stops, he stops. Then, reaches over the shield in the man’s grasp and lets his fingers touch the nape of Sam’s neck.

Bucky half-expects him to push him away, but the shorter man kisses him back immediately, and  that makes him want to smile. So he does.

It’s short, close-mouthed, the softest experience he’s ever had. Soft lips, stubble meeting, even if the shield pokes his stomach, doesn’t matter.

When Bucky draws back, Sam’s grinning like an idiot.

He also lifts an expectant eyebrow, like he’s waiting for him to explain himself. Maybe say some romantic bullshit, but he’s scared the words will fail him. Too focused on the other man’s Adam's apple when he swallows, too busy counting his eyelashes, so he doesn’t forget.

Bucky doesn’t want to forget anything about Sam, ever, for the life of him.

He adjusts the bag on his shoulder, before giving the man one last smile. Sam looks weirdly proud of him. “It’s for luck.”

*

Bucky guesses a kiss is the sort of thing you talk about, but the mission at hand doesn’t allow much talking. He manages to hear Sam’s speech, grab every word and hide it within him and completely pretend he didn’t. The other man knows his bullshitting, again.

“Great job, Cap,” he tries to smile, showing his teeth, like Sam. The man next to him eyes him curiously, for the first time since Bucky met him, looking endearingly shy.

He still laughs, sounding almost like a song Bucky’s trying to remember, “It’s Cap now?”

“Obviously.”

And given Sharon’s wound, he can’t stick around, but the text he receives about a  party  at the Wilsons, a cookout, that doesn’t surprise him, actually. Doesn’t surprise him that he’d go to Louisiana in a heartbeat and pick up the cake Sarah asked for, even if it slides around in the carseat and doesn’t look all that appetizing when he arrives.

The Wilson siblings roll their eyes at him. They both smile. Sam looks like the sun.

Bucky’s so busy being overrun with kids staring at his left arm that he doesn’t notice Sam slipping out of the group. If it makes him panic just a little not knowing where he was, well, that’s nobody’s business but his own.

The shorter man hasn’t gone far though. He’s looking out at the water, the sunset.

It’s pretty. Looks prettier when Sam stands there.

He knows, he  knows he’s not damn good with communication. The other man told him so himself. But he can’t stop trying, even if it feels like he’ll swallow his tongue.

Sam doesn’t acknowledge him when he comes up behind him, not at first, but Bucky thinks about his easy smile and red shirt and the lines in his palm and the ghost of his lips on his when he says the first feeling that comes to mind.

“I hate everyone else in the world, but you.”

It makes the other man chuckle and turn his face towards him. When he smiles hard, really, really hard, his warm eyes crinkle at the corners.

There’s a small birthmark on Sam’s throat, he notices. And one on his earlobe.

“Really?” he asks, as if it’s up for discussion.

“Yeah.”

Then that smugness returns like a charm with the comment, “So you like me more than Steve?”

And he would be annoyed, but his own smile is kind of preventing that feeling to surface. “I hate Steve,” he answers, with a certainty that surprises them both. Sam’s tugging at the hem of his shirt.

Then, “You liked Natasha, though,” and Bucky wants to roll his eyes so goddamn badly, which is clearly what the other man was looking for. He thinks he finds him adorable. The pink hue of the sky touches his being so perfectly. Hazy eyes, teeth nearly gleaming in the light.

“No, I mean what I said,” and Bucky knows what’s coming, of course he does, “But you can’t not like Rhodey, I mean...”

Sam is so fucking ridiculous. He doesn’t ever want him to stop making him smile like this.

“Sam, please, I’m trying to-” but Bucky doesn’t quite get to finish that sentence. Not because the other man interrupts him, at least not with his lips, which he wouldn’t complain about, or his words, but because both of Sam’s hands come up to cradle his face in the most tender fashion. He thinks he might be going crazy.

So he just looks at the man for a minute. Contemplating how loud his beauty is, how much love is in his eyes and how it’s somehow directed at himself. It feels overwhelmingly peaceful.

And Bucky feels Sam’s breath on his cheeks before they connect their lips again. Long overdue. His tongue tastes like coffee and butterscotch.

When they pull apart, the shorter man bumps their noses together. Bucky quite gladly could stay like this forever.

Then Sam asks, an unspoken conclusion, but voices the question regardless, because, well. He’s pretty sure they both need it, “You plan on sticking around?”

This smiling thing is kind of straining Bucky’s jaw. He’ll get used to it.

“Don’t even need to ask, sweetheart.”

[mmimagine-40]

Pup 3

Alpha!Steve x Omega!Reader

Okay!!Yes, I know i have been gone some time! I’m sorry! School has been crazy and I haven’t been able to write or work on it has much as I would like. But here it is Pup 3!

!!Somethings to know first!: Alpha!Sheriff Sam , Betas! Wanda and Pietro. Pietro and Bucky are officers. Wanda is like an assistant , receptionist type thing at the Police station (Sorry I don’t know what to call it!). Also for just background info. In this story Pepper and Tony and lawyers. I’m not sure what I want them to be. (Alpha/omega, betas, who should be the omega or what). So please help me out what do you think?

Last thing: if you didn’t see my last post. I have a tiktok where I’ll be mainly doing some small imagines that aren't big enough to write something out of. I’ll also be doing some updates on stories / pieces I’m writing. Like talking about How Bucky and Nat (from this story) meet and small things like that. So if you interested go check it out: @mmimagines40

As Steve was moving around he caught a glimpse of Y/n. “Well look who's awake.”, Steve chuckled. Y/n laughed softly. “Yeah, my foot started to hurt.”. Steve frowned as he checked his watch. “Well , sadly pup you can’t have more meds for another hour. But let's ice it and see if that helps.”, Steve checks the food again before turning to the fridge to grab an ice pack, “Dinners close to done, so you just want to stay here?”. Y/n nodded as she started to move to the side and move a chair in front of her. While Steve went to grab a pillow she took the boot off. He helped her get her foot situated and the ice on it. Checking it over first.  “Oof , Pup. You're getting a nasty bruise.”, Steve says. Her whole foot was almost brown and yellow, with dark purple and black colors around her ankle. Y/n pouted as she looked at it. Steve looked up to see her pout, “Aw it’s okay pup, it’ll go away soon.”. He bops her nose. Causing her to giggle. Steve smiled down at her softly. He makes his way back to the food to check it. “What are you making? It smells amazing.”, Y/n asked, turning to look at him again. ‘Cajun Pasta.”, Steve answers. “It’s pasta with a heavy cream and Chicken broth sauce with chicken and sausage. (And shrimp *if you like it*). With some Cajun seasoning and some other things.”. “Mmm. Is it almost done? My mouth is watering.”, Y/n says. Steve laughs nodding. He grabs two bowels and fills them up. He sets them both down on the table and turns back to the stove. Turning it off and grabbing the bread inside. He puts the bread sticks on a plate and grabs some forks. Setting them down as well he goes back to fill two glass with water. Taking a seat he hands the other glass to Y/n. “Thanks.”, Y/n says taking a drink. Before picking up her fork and digging in. She moans at the taste. “Oh my Steve! This is so good!”. Steve’s eyes darkened as he watched her. The grip on his fork tightened as he bit his check. Excited by the sounds leaving the omega. Steve shook his head looking down. Trying to shake the thoughts out of his head. Now was not the time. 

Brock watched from just outside the property line. Far enough away to not alert the Alpha or omega in the cabin. Using a pair of binoculars he watched. Just making out some movement and the lights shining through the window. He watched , as anger boiled inside of him. Y/n was to be his omega , and his alpha took her from him. He was going to get his omega back no matter what it might coast. Brock smirked as he got an idea. He quickly grabbed his things and made his way back to town. 

Unaware of the eyes on him not to fair away. A person in the shadows. Hindan in the tree line. Making away around the woods after a report about their being hunters out there , out of season. The person watched as Brock made his way down the path to the town, before heading back to the ATV. Radioing it in. 

“This is officer Maximoff radioing in for Sheriff Wilson.”

“Sheriff Wilson speaking.”

“I got eyes on the guy you said to watch out for. He was just outside of Rogers property line. Looked like he was looking in towards the house.” 

“Is he still there?”

“No sir, he just packed up and looks to be heading back to town.”

“Okay, finish up the rout and head back into town. When you do keep an eye out for him and what he’s doing.”

 Sam sets the walkie talky down on his desk , next to the files he was looking over.  “Who even is this guy?”, Wanda asked. “All Steve told me was that this guy's father bought an omega for him. Who he has been abusing and forcing himself on. Now he’s hunting her down. Now what did you get?”, Sam explained. Wanda sighed looking down at the notes she took, “ Most everyone said they have seen him walking around. Mostly up around Steve’s property. Some say he was in some of the business asking about seeing an omega. With the description Steve gave you. As well as asking about Steve. But they say they didn’t give him much info.”. Sam nodded as he looked down at the file. On the file this guy seemed okay. Just a few speeding tickets. But those were paid off and fast. Nothing else. But then again people had their secrets. And he was involved with omega selling and abuse. As well as states abuse. Sam closed the file , handing it to Wanda.” Send all this info to Pepper.``. Wanda nodded, taking the file and heading to her desk. Starting an email to Pepper with all the info of this alpha , what Steve told them, and the info she got. The ding of the front door, made her head snap up. Her eyes widen a bit seeing the same alpha from the files walking in. Quickly she shut the files and info putting them away. And closes the email. Before the alpha walked up to her desk. She looked up at him with a fake smile. “Hello sir. How can I help you?”.  He smiles at her. “Hi there. Is the Sheriff in?”, Brock asked. Wanda nodded, “He sure is, can I ask what this is about?”. “I need help with another alpha in town. I believe he is holding my girlfriend against her will. “. Wanda nods as she types a few things on her computer before standing up. “Oh no. That sounds terrible. I'm sorry. I go see if he can see you.”, Wanda pouts acting like she cared. Brock gave her a sad smile like he was really hurting and sad. But Wanda could see right through him. Knowing he’s lying and faking this act. She makes her way back to Sam’s office. She looks back as she walks in. Making sure he is still standing there. Sam looks up at her as she walks in. Watching her close the door , while looking into the lobby. “He’s here.”, Wanda says looking towards Sam. “Saying that an alpha he's holding his girlfriend against her will.”. Sam nods as he stands up. “Okay, tell him I’ll be with him in just a minute.”, Sam says, pulling his phone out and dialing Steve. Wanda nods , making her way out. She smiles as she sees Brock look up towards her. As she walks back into the waiting area. “He’s finishing with some paperwork and will be out shortly. In the meantime have a seat. Would you like something to drink? Cup of coffee?”, she asked, overly friendly. Brock shook his head as he took a seat waiting. Wanda's smile dropped as she watched him. He hung his head down. Really playing off the sad alpha look. But reeked of anger. 

“Wow, that was really good Steve.”, Y/n says handing him her bowel. Steve smiled down at her. Taking the dishes to the sink. “Thank you. It’s rare that I get to cook for someone else.”.  “You never cook or have get-togethers with your friends?”, Y/n asked. As she removed the ice pack and looked over her ankle. Steve chuckles. “We do get togethers. But Nat usually cooks. She enjoys cooking and hosting them. Even if any of us try to talk her out of it , she won’t listen and will cook a feast. Bucky said it’s something about a mated omega. Apparently they enjoy the hosting and cooking for a group of people.”, Steve says as he cleans the dishes. Y/n laughed softly. “Reminds me of my mother. She was also like that. Loved to cook a huge feast for when my dad had his business parties. She loved hosting them. I never understood it. Especially since she and I were forced to do these things as we are omegas. She once told me it wasn’t about the work. It was the compliments. To know everyone was enjoying her hard work.”. Steve humbled as he turned back to her , drying his hands. “I never thought of it that way but it makes sense. Nat always does have a beaming to her when we complain about her work. And Bucky he gets a proudness to him.”. Y/n turns to look at Steve as she finishes putting her boot back on . “Really?”, She asked. Steve nods. “Alpha’s have these strong feelings to make their omegas happy. To see them loved and full of happiness. ...Well that's how true mates are.”, Steve says. Y/n laughs , shaking her head. Steve smiles watching her , “what do you not believe in true mates?”. Y/n shakes her head no as she looks up at him. “No, seeing what I have growing up. No , not really.”. Steve shrugs as he pushes off the counter walking towards the table. “I get it. I used to not believe it too. My ma used to tell me all those fairy tales about true mates. But seeing how my father treated her and me. I didn’t believe it. “. Y/n’s eyebrow’s crunch together as she looks at him. Watching his movements. “What changed your mind?”, She asked. “Nat and Bucky. You see we both met Nat at college. She asked us where some of the classes were. As she walked away. Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Watching her walk away. He then turned to me and said that one day she would be his mate. I thought he was crazy till I saw how they acted around each other. Then it clicked. Everything my ma use to tell in those stories unfolded in front of my eyes.  Made me a believer.”, Steve explains making his way to her. “But how did you know?”, Y/n asked. “I didn’t at first. I thought it was just young love. Till I talked to the both of them separate. They both talked about how being around each other was like nothing else. One touch left their hearts beating so fast. How they got tingles and this gushy, warm feeling from just one little touch. How the others smelled, smelled of home. A warm , loving feeling.”, Steve moves the chair that he leg was on. He stands in front of her holding a hand out. Y/n looked up at him in awe. Thinking over his words , as she takes his hand. As he helps her stand his scent hits her. The scent that makes her feel warm and safe. Hitting her. That those things he spoke of is how she felt towards him. But surely not. They weren’t meant to mate. Although she did have that dream. That dream that left her longing for those things. To be Steve’s. Waking up next to him. In his arms , surrounded by their mixed scents. Carrying his children. Something Y/n use to not want. She didn’t want to bring children into this world of horrible alphas. But Steve has changed her mind in just a few days. Is it possible? Could he really be her true mate? 

“Pup?....hello? Pup?...did you hear me?”, Steve asked waving a hand in front of her. Y/n shakes her head of the thoughts, “sorry , this true mate's talk just has me remembering home. Well not home my mom. She too told me of those stories. It was the only time of  the day I really enjoyed. Sorry , i just miss her.”, Y/n says looking down. Steve’s face falls as he looks at her. Understanding her. “It’s okay, pup. Even if I didn’t believe the stories they were a time of joy for me too. When my father was asleep. Passed out, not bugging us. A time of peace between me and my ma.”. Steve grabs her chin making her look at him. He cups her check. Rubbing her check, soothing her. Y/n gives him a small smile. As she closes her eyes and leans into his touch. Letting the soothing movement and the warmth from him , calm her down. “Thank you , Steve.”, Y/n finally says as she opens her eyes looking at him. Steve smiles , “for what?”. Y/n lightly chucks as she smiles more, “For being you.”. “Well , I don’t know how to do anything else. Now, while you were in memories lane. I asked if you would like to continue ‘The Office’, while we get your room all set up and the stuff put away.”. Y/n nods yes. “Okay , come on then.”, He helps her up the stairs and into the room. Where they get all the bags from Nat's shopping , and puts them on the bed. Sorting them. “Here these are all for the bathroom. While you get those put up and how you like. I’ll get  the show on.”, Steve says handing Y/n the bags. Y/n grabs them making her way to the bathroom. She closes the door. She smiles as she pulls the stuff out of the bag. Needing to thank Nat for everything. 

Steve sighed as he fell on to the bed. Grabbing the remote to turn on The Office. As he gets it set up to play , he feels his phone start to ring in his pocket. He pulls it out seeing it's Sam. Looking back up to see the bathroom door still closed. Steve stands up as he answers the phone call. “Hey Sam, what’s up?”. “Red Star.”, Sam says. Steve's jaw clenched as anger started to take over him. “Where is he now?”, Steve says through a clenched jaw. “At the station. Wanda said that he came in asking for me. Saying he thinks an alpha in town is holding his girlfriend against her will. I don’t know much more. I haven’t talked to him. What do you want to do?”, Sam asked. Steve sighed thinking of a plan. His mind was running all over everything that's happened thinking. But stops on one thing. The fake claim mark. “Okay i got it. I gave Y/n a fake claim mark. So what we will do is, you do your sheriff stuff. Bring him out here whatever. We will just have to pretend that I claimed her already.”. “Okay I’ll bring Pietro and See if Bucky can come along too in case he gets out of hand.”. Steve falls back onto the bed , “okay good thinking. I better warn her first , so she doesn’t freak on us.”. “Okay , I’ll try to delay him as much as I can.”, Sam says before hanging up. 

Steve sighed as he threw his phone to the side. Hoping this works. But he has to convince Y/n. He’ll need her to be calm and ready to face him. To make it look real. Cause if not, Brock could go to State troopers about him before they can get Tony and Peppers help with this first. The sound of the door opening , makes Steve snap his head up to look towards Y/n. As she walked out of the bathroom. “Hey , Pup.  We need to talk?”, Steve says looking down at his hands. Y/n forward softly as she walked closer to him. “What’s wrong Stevie?”, She asked. Steve Smiled softly at the nickname. But it quickly fell as he thought over how to word what he was about to say. He looks up at her. Looking over her face. He took her hand , just in case she flips or something. “I haven’t been completely honest with you. Going behind your back. But I promise , I only had the best intentions…..I have a friend who's a lawyer. Him and his wife work on cases like yours. Helping omegas and...well really anyone in abusive situations. I asked my bubby , also the sheriff, If he could look into Brock and send all the info of him and what you told me to Pepper and Tony. So they can help you. Fully get Brock away from you.”, Steve starts explaining. Y/n looks down taking a deep breath. Trying to process everything he just told her. She did feel hurt that he did this behind her back. But a part of her knew that there was no way if he didn’t , he wouldn’t have gotten Y/n to open up to someone else to get help. And she guessed Steve knew that too. But it still hurt. She was starting to trust Steve. She wishes he would have just told her. But what was getting her was she opened up to him. Told him what happened to her. Something she’s never done. She hasn’t told anyone. Now 3 or even more people will know. Which she knows if this goes now more will know. She doesn’t want to look for sympathy or look like she was broken. Steve squeezed her hand. Nervous at her silence. “I’m sorry Pup. I know you were starting to trust me and I went behind your back and told your story to others. But I promise it’s for the good. They will get you help.”. “It’s not that. I don’t doubt your intentions or theirs. As I have seen you have good friends. People who are like you. Have big hearts and want to help. I know that with them and you I’ll get help. But this means more and more people know my life growing up. What happened to me. It’s just I’m …..I just don’t want to keep reliving it. I just want to be done with it. And how a normal life.”, Y/n says as she wipes her face as tears start to run down her face. Steve pulls Y/n closer to him. Making her fall onto his lap. Where he wrapped his arms around her holding her close. “I promise pup, you won’t. Not for ever at least. The most I know of. I’ll have to retell everything to Pepper and Tony so they can get a case going. Then depending on how fair it goes you might have to testify. Which means retelling it again and then answering questions about what happened. But after that I promise you don’t have to talk about it ever again. I’ll make sure of it too. Make sure that no one will ever make you talk about it. Okay ,pup?”, Steve pulls back to look at her face. He reaches a hand up wiping her tear stained face. Y/n nods , closing her eyes. Thinking it all over. Steve gives her a few seconds. “Pup, i wasn't going to tell you all of this yet. I was waiting to see what pepper suggested. But something happened. So i need to tell you to warn you and start helping to prepare you for facing Brock.”. Y/n pulled back, eyebrows scrunched. Looking at Steve. “What? What's going on?”. Steve sighed looking down for a sec thinking , before looking back to Y/n. “I just got a phone call from my buddy at the sheriff station , Sam. He informed me that Brock showed up to the station. Asking for Sam. Saying that he believes that an Alpha is holding his girlfriend against her will. I don’t know what else he’s going to string together , telling Sam. But as sheriff and part of Alpha/Omega laws, Sam has to bring him to where he asks and check it out. Making sure an alpha in fact did not hold an omega hostage and mate them against their wishes. So , I’m going to need you to be strong. You’ll need to face him and make him believe I mated you. And you consented to it.”, Steve explains. Watching her face closely to see how she is taking everything. “But we aren’t mated.”. “The fake bond will fool him. I’ll just have to mark it again to it smell like an actual bond.”, Steve moves her hair. Running his fingers over her neck. Where the fake bond is, slowly fading. Y/n nods understanding, “what if he doesn’t buy it or sees through it?”. “We will just have to convince him. Alpha/Omega laws are huge. So he could go to State Troopers about it. Which will lead to more trouble and make it harder for Tony and Pepper. But with the mark and witness of me , you and Sam. We could all testify against him if he does. That Sam has already checked it out and We are in fact mated. And we both consented to it. But you are going to have to be brave and face him. Saying it to his face that you mated with me. Okay, pup? You think you can do that?”, Steve says. y/n Looked away from him thinking about it. Facing Brock. Something she was so scared of. But if she wanted to be gone from him for good she knew she had to do it. Pulse Steve would be by her side the whole time. Something about being with him made her feel stronger and braver. Y/n turned back to him. Nodding in agreeing. Steve smiles at her. “Okay, good. Now first things first. We need to redo your mark.”. Y/n nodded as she moved her hair and leaned her head to the side a bit for Steve to have better access. Just like last time. Steve was a bit slow. Not wanting to rush and hurt or scare Y/n. He left light kisses around and on the mark. Before letting his teeth lightly sink in. This time Y/n wasn’t able to hold back as small whimpers left her lips. Wanting him to actually bite down. Claim her. After he then again left small, light kisses to the bite. Before pulling back. Y/n looked away from Steve. Not wanting to face him. As her face was already somewhat red. ‘There Pup. Now it seems you are mated.” Steve says trying to get her to look at him. He frowns at first thinking he did something wrong. Till he noticed the long her looked at her the more red her face got. He opens his mouth to say something which is interrupted by the sound of knocking at the door. Y/n’s head then snapped back to finally look at him. Steve looked at her , “Okay Pup. Show time. You got this okay. I’ll be standing next to you the whole time. Ready to jump in at any time if anything happens, okay?”. Y/n nods getting up. Steve takes her hand as he stands up. Leading her downstairs. He stops in the living room. “Wait here till I call you okay?”, Steve says. Y/n nods giving his hand one last squeeze as he pulls away towards the door. Y/n stands by the Stairs. Biting her nails nervous. Waiting and listening closely to what was going on. 

Steve took a deep breath as he reached the door. Before opening the door. Putting on the act. “Sheriff, Hi. How can I help you?”, Steve smiles at Sam. Trying to keep calm as his eyes move over to the Alpha standing next. Brock. The same guy he saw the other day in the forest. “Hey, Steve. Sorry to bug you this late but this guy came into the station. Saying he was out here the other day looking for his girlfriend after she ran away. And he ran into you and you told him you haven't seen her then asked him to leave. Well he thinks you where lying and are holding his girlfriend here against her will.”, Sam explains. Steve's eyebrows raise in surprise. “What? Come on Sam , you know I would never do something like that.”, Steve says. Sam sharks his head ,”I know but you know the laws make me have to question and check it out no matter what. Now tell me what happened that day?”. “I was out cutting some wood. When I heard someone running around. Thinking it was a hunter on my land. I went to check it out and found this guy. I just informed him it was private property and I was sorry to hear about his girlfriend. But asked him to leave.”, Steve explains. “Was that a lie? Did you see a girl he was talking about?” sam asked, taking notes. Steve nods , “Yes , I saw her. But not till after I had asked him to leave. I found her on my way back , injured. She sprained her ankle tripping over a tree root. I brought her back here to help her. I didn’t know at the time she was the girl he was talking about. Till after she told me what she was doing out in the woods alone.”. Sam nods as he writes it all down. “Is she here now?”, He asks looking back up at Steve. Steve Signs looking down. Looking as if he was hurting and not wanting to say. He sighed one more time as he looked up. He looked towards Brock. Meeting his hard eyes as he stared back. Before turning back to Sam. “Yes..Yes she is. She’s….She’s my mate now.”. “WHAT?! YOUR MATE?!IT”S ONLY BEEN A DAY AND YOU FORCED YOURSELF ON HER?!”, Brock started yelling. Keeping the play up that Y/n was his and he was scared for her well being. But really , Steve could see it was anger that he beat him to mating her. Sam grabs him by the arm pulling him back. “Now you stop right there! I’m the sheriff! I’ll be the one asking questions and getting down to the info here! If you don’t like that then you can go wait by the car.”, Sam says growling as he pushes Brock back. Brock just huffs nodding as he backs up. Sam then turns back to Steve, “Could you please ask this young lady to come here , so I can ask her some questions?”. Steve nodded as his eyes stayed on Brock. Watching him with an angered look. “Pup, Can you come here for a second?”, Steve calls into the cabin. 

Y/n took a deep breath. Calming her nervousness. Knowing that Brock will be able to smell her emotions. She just hoped that Steve’s scent on her would distract him from it though. She takes one more breath as she makes her way to the door. “Hhmm” She says walking up next to Steve. He wrapped an arm around her waist. “This is Sheriff Sam, He wants to ask you some questions.”, Steve says. Y/n turned to the man in front of them. Trying not to let her eye wander over to the man next to him. She actually felt relaxed as she met Sam's eyes. His eyes and smile were soft. Especially for an alpha. He seems so sweet and nice. “Evening Ma’am. I just have a few questions to ask if you don’t mind.”, Sam says sticking his hand out to shake her hand. Y/n nodded, shaking his hand. “Okay.”. “Okay firstly, you are Y/n L/N right?”, He asked.

“Yes sir.”

“Okay , can you tell me , do you know this man?” Sam points to Brock. Y/n sighed shaking her head. Steve pulled her closer to him. As he watched Brock's breathing pick up noticing the mark on her neck. Sam nodded , “Can I ask what your relationship is with this man?”. “Nothing, he has been chasing after me wanting to mate me. But I didn’t want to.”, Y/n says taking a quick glance at him.  “Okay and can you explain to me what happened that led you into the woods and meet Mr. Rogers.”, Sam says. Y/n nodded looking down quickly before looking back at him. “We got into a fight about the mating thing. He tried to force himself on to me and tried to mate me.  I was able to get away from him and ran away. But he was following me. So I ran into the forest thinking I could get away from him. But he followed after me. I ended up tripping and hurting my ankle. While I was sitting on the ground, not being able to walk. Steve found me. He helped me up and into his cabin. Asking what happened.”, Y/n explains to Sam. Sam nods writing what she told him down. “You Bitch! In Thanks you let him fuck you and mark you!”,Brock yelled trying to step closer. But Sam wiped around putting his hand on his chest. Pushing him back, “Mr. Rumblow this is your last warning!”. Brock huffs pushing Sam's hand off of him. Y/n jumps do to the yelling. Causing Steve to wrap both his arms around her and hold her closer. She puts her head in his neck not wanting to see Brock anymore. Sam sighed as he turned back to Y/n and Steve. “I’m sorry about that. I know this is a touchy subject but can I ask how this mating came across.”, Sam asked. Y/n looked up at Steve , not knowing what to say. Steve looked at her too. Before looking back to Sam . “It was an accidental mate.”.  Something popped up in Y/n’s mind. She just praid that Sam understood it or knew what it was. “Partialis Calor.”. Sam looked at her for a bit , before nodding in understanding. “And what? She’s making shit up now. He probably forced her to make some stupid shit up like that.”, Brock says turning to Sam. Sam kept looking at her impressed. “No she’s not. A partialis calor is something that happens between true mates.”, Sam says turning to Brock.  “It's a heat/rut type thing that takes over an Alpha and Omega when they meet their true mate. And most end up like these two. Alphas will have this other power to mate their omega.”, Sam explains.  “So see he forced that mark on her! Are you going to do anything about it!”, Brock started yelling again getting in Sam's face. “No! Miss . L/n and Mr. Rogers has made it clear that their mating was conditional. Even if it was accidental , they are both fine and happy being mated together.”, Sam says trying to push Brock away. “This is bullshit! Your mine Y/n! You know who your true alpha is!”, Brock keeps trying to push Sam away and get closer to them. Something snapped in Y/n. She finally turned to fully look at the alpha. “My true alpha is Steve. Even though I may have just met him , we have more of a connection then you and I ever did. He makes me feel things you never could. In every way possible.”, Y/n snapped at him. Steve smirked not only proud of her but also at what she was implying. Brock's eyes widen and fill with pure agner. “YOU FUCKING BITCH!” He pushed Sam down the steps of the deck and away from him. Reaching behind his back. Pulling out a gun. He raises it to her face. Steve was quick to pull her behind him. “Even better!”, Brock says. Before he could do anything , he heard the sounds of guns cockling all around him.  He looked around seeing Sam behind him pointing a gun at him and Two other large guys on either side of him , holding shotguns. One an alpha and another a beta. “Put the gun down, or not I don’t mind putting a hole through you.”, The dark haired alpha says. Brock turned to look at Sam , ‘You set me up.”. Sam shrugged. “I wouldn’t call it a set up. Just safety procedures. You reeked of anger and dominance when you walked into the station. Those two things usually never mix well and end good for alphas like you. Now put the gun down!” ,Sam says staying calm. Brock looked back to Steve. Staring him down as he dropped the gun. Raising his hands in surrender. Dropping slowly to his knees. Bucket reached over kicking the gun away. Before they lowered their weapons. Sam walked up behind the alpha and cuffed him. “Pietro, read him his rights then take him back to the station. Throwing him in a cell. “, Sam says. Pietro nods, taking the alpha towards the car. Steve turned around to face Y/n. “You okay , pup.”, he asked. Y/n nodded as she threw her arms around Steve pulling him into a hug.  Steve wrapped his arms around her. Pulling her close. So close he was lifting her up to where she was on her tiptoes. “You're okay , pup.” , he whispers in her hair. “Y/n? You okay?”, A voice asked. Y/n and  Steve pulled away and turned back to Sam and Bucky. “Yes, I’m fine. Just a little shaken up .”, She says. “I’m sorry, Y/n. I had no idea he had a gun.”, Sam says looking like he really was truthfully sorry. “It’s okay, it’s a good thing you thought beforehand to bring back up.”. Sam’s attention was brought to his phone as it buzzed. “That’s Wanda she said she emailed Pepper and she got back to her fast. She and Tony will be out here in a couple days to see and talk to Y/n. I’ll email her this report and what happened tonight.”. Steve nodded , “Thank you Both of you I owe you two.”. “It’s nothing. You would have done the same.”, Bucky says. “Now enough chick chat. You two get some rest. This add on to everything else is going to be a long and tiring process once Tony gets here.”, Sam explains looking back and forth to Steve and y/n. Mainly watching Y/n to ensure she is okay. They both nod in understanding. They all say their goodbye. Steve and Y/n watch from the door as Sam and Bucky leave following Pietro. Down the road to Town.

------- TAGS-----------

Pup: 

@woodworthti666    @chrisevanisliterallysir   @sukeraa   @bxnnywriting            

@cuddlebuddydraco   @tnysmalls   @tenaciousperfectionunknown

@wonderlandfandomkingdom    @animegirlgeeky   @gryffindorqueensworld

 @loveisgayandmy    @waywardwifey       @supernaturallover2002

ABO:

@physically-a-cheesecake

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

So I have basically no school next week , so I’m going to try and work on this story. I’m thinking it might be only a couple more parts! But I honestly don’t know yet. Again if you want updates or small imagines check out my tiktok. Also if you like MHA i have another tiktok (@babybird_40) where I have posted some small imagines about some of the characters. Right now it’s just Hawks. But depending how it does I’ll be adding more and others. - MM

[luna-helps-writing]

Hey could I request a match up for lotr, marvel, and x-men? Thank you. I’m a nonbinary goth who’s into men. I look really scary but I’d apologise to you if you spilt soup in my lap.

I have major anxiety, bpd, and c-ptsd. I’ve had to drop out of school due to this but that doesn’t stop me from learning as much as I can from home. I’m currently learning Korean, and studying the Birdlife and plants in my area. I love nature, especially birds, and have a pet budgie named Yog-Sothoth The All Seeing God (or Yog for short).

I’m 5’6” with black and red hair, green eyes, pale skin and freckles. I mostly wear alternative clothes or gothic renaissance clothes. I also love wearing platform boots.

I don’t really take care of myself but always take care of those I love. I’ve gotten into a few fist fights before because they were bullying my friends. I get really passionate about the things I love and won’t shut up about them. I love baking, writing, and drawing. I’m a bit of a mess, but if you know me it won’t matter. I’m quiet around people I don’t know and am always making stupid jokes to those I’m close to.

Thank you!!

Thank you for your ask!

For Lord of the Rings, I ship you with Haldir!

• I believe that every elf likes goths. This one was a very close call with Legolas, to be fair. I choose Haldir, simply because I feel like he would be able to balance both of your personalities more than our Mirkwood friend.

• Okay, so as I said, in my head, elves absolutely adore goths. They are so different from the fair beings, which intrigues them so much. Haldir is no different. Serving in Lothlorièn doesn’t really provide him with much of the outside world, but boy oh boy, when he meets you-

• Is a great person for comfort! Whenever something just gets too much or you need some time away, he’ll help you with anything! So kind and helpful, you deserve a Haldir ;-;

• Since he lives in a forest, he knows a lot about animals and biology, yet not the things you know. He can listen to you talk about it for hours without ever growing tired.

• Will 100% take care of you when you won’t do it yourself. In his eyes, you deserve the world, and as he can not physically do that, he’ll do anything in his will to keep you healthy and happy.

• He will hold you back during fights though, which is not always great, because at times you’ll be too caught up and accidentally punch him. Even though he tells you it’s okay, it actually hurts but he’d rather die than admit to you that you hurt him. He’s afraid you’ll feel bad for him.

For the MCU, I ship you with Loki!

• Does this come as a surprise? Not for me, no.

• Will steal your platform boots. Like, seriously; they are not safe around them. Hiding won’t help you. He’ll find them. You have to wear them all day in order to secure them.

• Tries to reason with you whenever you get caught up in fights, as he knows how passionate you are about something, but when someone said something really dumb, he’ll gladly join in and will try to kill that person. Now it’s your turn to reason with him.

• Will pull stupid pranks with you on his brother. Yes, it involves stabbing him, and while you were hesitant at first, you soon found out it doesn’t really hurt him, so you’re okay with it now.

• He adores your drawings! He keeps one of your old sketchbooks in his room (without your knowledge) and will look at it for hours, even though he has seen it thousands of times before. He even tries to draw like you, but he can’t seem to get the hang of it and it bothers him so much. He’ll never show it to anyone, but we know better.

• Let’s be honest; he’s the chillest person there is considering gender. Not bothered at all. Completely cool. Talking about Norse Mythology Loki real quick; has had many gender himself, so no surprise there. When someone does disrespect you, there will be no holding back from Loki’s side.

For X-men, I ship you with Wade Wilson! (Deadpool)

• Is honestly really impressed by your looks. He thinks it’s the coolest thing ever and even tries to add it in his suit. It looks stupid though, so you’ll have to tell him to stop.

• He might not want to admit it, but he suffers from ptsd too, so he knows the issues. He will absolutely be there for you and talk you through anything. Well, talk....not his strongest point. Let’s say joke. His jokes are always good.

• Loses his shit when he figured out you’re learning Korean. He will try to join you, but he’s terrible at learning languages. He tries his best, he really does, he just has a terrible memory.

• Will definitely use your writing in one of his fights. Perhaps it’s a cool one-liner he can’t get out of his head and he’ll just say it out loud. Has great writing ideas too, even if it sounds stupid. He cannot really write, but he’s great at giving inspiration and he’s so encouraging!

• Most surprisingly perhaps; he is a natural baker. He has never baked in his life before, but whenever he wants to help you, he does everything exactly right, maybe even better. He plays it off as if it’s nothing, but he totally brags about it in front of others.

• Continuing on my earlier point, the two of you have a lot of bake-offs. It started out as simple cupcakes, but now you’re making three-layered cakes.

I hope it was to your liking! Stay safe❤️

[ineffable-snowman]

And here’s my second Sambucky fic. You can read it here or on AO3.

Pet Psychopath

“Him? Really?”

Sam and Sarah were both glancing towards where Bucky was grinding the boat’s side with sandpaper with the single-minded focus of the Winter Soldier on a mission.

“I know I have a problem,” Sam said before Sarah could start to berate him for falling for yet another sad white soldier.

“You sure do.” Sarah shook her head, still eyeing Bucky warily. “At least Steve was pretty.”

True. Although Steve used to have terrible fashion sense, he was easy on the eyes and Sam suspected that half of the Avengers and at least half of America had had a crush on Cap at one time, so there was no reason to judge him for that. Bucky however, with his scruffy face and that murderous glare, was another matter. Sam judged himself for whatever feelings were creeping up on him.

“You should have seen him before he got a haircut,” he told Sarah.

“I did. Because his mugshot was all over the news. Jesus, Sam.”

Sam shrugged. The fact that Bucky was (or rather had been) a criminal was not what bothered him. After having been imprisoned in the Raft, he did not give a shit about what the government declared legal or illegal. He trusted in his common sense. Right now, his common sense told him that it was a fundamentally bad idea to develop feelings for Bucky Barnes. He had no idea how this catastrophe had happened, could not pinpoint the exact moment when Bucky had turned from a threat into a pity case into a nuisance into a reluctant co-worker and finally into someone Sam brought into his sister’s house and entrusted with his late parents’ boat.

“Right. I don’t know if I should hope for him to return your feelings or pray that he doesn’t.”

Truth be told, Sam hadn’t figured that out yet either. Bucky was thoughtless at best, often outright ignorant, petty and self-centred, not to mention reckless, irresponsible, a bad co-worker, and he did not like Redwing. And there wasn’t exactly a charming personality to make up for all these failures. It did not make sense for Sam to fall for him, and yet it perfectly did. Yes, Sam was fully aware he had a problem, had first come to suspect it when his parents had told him with constipated looks on their faces that, “No, Sam, we can’t bring every injured seagull to the vet.” It had been confirmed over the years when the teachers had asked him to look after the new kid in class or try to include the outsider and he had been unable to say no. Sam knew enough about psychology to know that pity was not a good basis for a relationship. He knew that and it didn’t change anything. Sharon calling Bucky a ‘pet psychopath’ seemed frighteningly accurate. (However, he heavily resented the implication that Zemo somehow shared ownership rights. Because it was Sam who constantly looked after Bucky, not Zemo. It was Sam Bucky followed around, not Zemo).

“Whatever.” Sam took the saw and jumped into the boat. “He’s useful for repair work.” Then he got to work helping  his pet psychopath. He sawed planks of wood into smaller pieces to replace the dilapidated pieces on the boat.

After one hour, his shirt was drenched in sweat. Bucky was still grinding with the sandpaper, his movements like a machine. There was only the barest sheen of sweat on his forehead.

After another hour, Sam’s right hand cramped up. He dropped the saw and leaned against the side of the boat.

“How do you feel about a break? That something you do?”

“If you insist.”

Sam snorted. He could not believe he had to put up with this bullshit again. Damn supersoldiers. And yet he tried to engage Bucky in small talk.

“What do you think, how long until we’re finished?” He grabbed a bottle of water and threw Bucky a second one.

“Depends on how many breaks you need.” Bucky opened his bottle and kept staring at Sam while drinking it, never once blinking. Unbelievable.

“You keep this up, I might just throw you overboard.”

Bucky put the bottle down. He was still staring at Sam. “You can try.”

“Oh, so this is what we’re doing?” Sam’s heart was suddenly racing. There was no chance in hell that he could beat Bucky. But backing down from a challenge? Never.

“You talk big, Wilson, but I don’t see you acting on it,” Bucky taunted him.

There was no going back now. Sam was not entirely sure what Bucky was suggesting here but throwing his water bottle away and grabbing Bucky in a headlock seemed the appropriate choice of action.

Not that he succeeded for long. Bucky easily freed himself and proceeded to try to wrestle Sam down. Sam could tell that Bucky was pulling his punches because if he had used his full super strength, Sam would be on the floor by now. On the one hand, he was touched that Bucky was considerate enough at least in this situation and seemed to want to have fun with Sam, on the other, he wouldn’t have minded being on the floor. With Bucky on top of him. God, he was such a mess.

“That all you got?” Bucky said, grinning evilly.

Sam couldn’t help but snort in amusement. He was always glad to see Bucky happy, even though a grin made him look even more like a psychopath.

“You ain’t seen-aaaaaaaaaaaaa-”

It happened too fast to do anything and yet Sam experienced everything in slow-motion. A huge wave rocked the boat to one side. Sam, who was just about to back away from one of Bucky’s attacks, lost his footing and stepped on the water bottle. While falling, he caught sight of the stern of the fast ferry, and his mother’s words echoed in his mind, Always pay attention to the fast ferry. Then he was finally on the floor and shit, that hurt! He exclaimed a string of curses and then he finally saw what had caused the pain: he had landed on the saw which was now stuck in the back of his right thigh. He gritted his teeth, closed his eyes, ignored Bucky’s “Don’t!” and quickly tore it out with another string of curse words.

Suddenly there was blood. A lot of blood. Blood streaming out of his thigh, drenching his pant leg. Not good. Not good at all. Too much blood. Over the loud rushing and pounding in his ears, he heard Bucky call him an idiot and then he passed out.

When he came back, he felt pleasantly woozy, warm and well-rested. The next thing he noticed was the smell of leather, paint and sweat under his nose. He blinked his eyes open. His head was cushioned on a leather jacket and he was lying on his left, still on the boat, which gently rocked from side to side. Going back to sleep seemed like a good idea.

“Are you back?” came Bucky’s voice from behind him.

“Mm.” Then he noticed that he wasn’t wearing any pants. Huh. “Are you staring at my ass?”

“I’m stitching you back up.”

“You what?” Suddenly the pleasant wooziness was gone.The searing pain came back and so did the awareness of what had just happened – of what was happening right now. He tried to sit up but Bucky’s vibranium arm grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back down.

“Don’t move. I’m almost done.”

“What are you doing?” Sam really hoped he had misheard, but no –

“Stitching you back up,” Bucky repeated stoically, sounding somewhat distracted.

“Why?”

“It’s a big wound. You lost a lot of blood.”

“How -? Stop that!”

“It’s fine, I’ve done this before.”

“What, like in the 40s?!”

“…yes.”

“You know we have surgeons for this, right?”

“I’m faster.”

“I swear to you, if you’ve used dirty needles on me or fishbones or whatever…!”

“Didn’t you get your tetanus shot?”

“Oh my God, you did, didn’t you?”

“No. I found a first aid kit. It looked a bit old but seems to be good.”

“Seems to be?! You should have at least asked me before you decided to operate on me!”

“You were unconscious and bleeding,” Bucky said matter-of-factly. “There, done. Not bleeding anymore.” Bucky appeared in his line of vision. There was blood on both hands, his shirt and even his pants. There was also a lot of blood on the floor around Sam.

“I want to go to the hospital and have someone competent check if you’ve butchered my leg.”

“Fine. But let me dress the wound first.”

“Okay.” Sam turned back around and let Bucky do whatever he thought needed to be done. Sam wasn’t usually squeamish, he had been in the army and seen much worse. But waking up to someone stitching you up with probably outdated surgical tools? Not cool.

“When I’m back from the hospital, you and I are going to have a long talk about bodily autonomy.”

“You can schedule it right after the talk about workplace safety. Because letting a saw lie around like that? Just no.”

Sam had to concede that was a fair point, so he kept his mouth shut. When Bucky had finished wrapping a thick bandage around Sam’s thigh, he helped Sam up. He was wobbly on his legs, still feeling lightheaded from the blood loss, and his right leg was doing weird things.

“Does it hurt?” Bucky asked the most superfluous question ever.

“Take a wild guess.” Sam clung to Bucky and somehow they manoeuvred him out of the boat and he hobbled back to Sarah’s house.

Sarah screamed when she saw them.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Sam said quickly. What it looked like was: Sam in just his boxer shorts with a thick bandage around his right leg, leaning heavily on Bucky, and both of them covered in blood from head to toe. “It was an accident.”

“Don’t let the boys see you like this!” Sarah ushered them into the bathroom. “Get yourselves cleaned up. I’ll bring you new clothes.”

Sam sank down onto the toilet lid. Damn it, even sitting hurt like hell. Changing and cleaning up in the tiny bathroom was awkward. Without asking Sam if he needed the help, Bucky had obviously decided that he did need help and had started wiping the blood from Sam’s arms and legs with a wet cloth. They really needed to have that talk about boundaries. Not that Sam was complaining, though. The problem was, he liked it. (Not in a sexual way, he was not that messed up and in too much pain and in his sister’s bathroom – just no.) For some reason, Bucky taking care of him was what did it for him. And Bucky wasn’t even particularly gentle, just efficient and matter-of-fact about it. But it was apparently enough that there was someone who had decided to take care of Sam a little bit more than was strictly necessary.

“This is not exactly flattering,” Sam said when Bucky had helped him into a pair of too-short sweatpants.

“Pretty sure you’ve seen me in worse states.”

Sam chuckled but then winced in pain when he tried to stand up. He was too exhausted to even pretend to protest when Bucky put an arm around him and supported him into the kitchen where Sarah was making dinner.

“Better?” Sarah asked Sam. “Need anything from the pharmacy? I can send Cass. They’ve already played long enough.”

It didn’t sound much like playing anymore. From the living room, the boys could be heard arguing loudly over the explosions and the music of their video games.

“I need to go to the ER,” Sam said, “and have someone check this.”

Sarah grimaced. “That bad, huh? Okay, let me just finish--” She was interrupted by the telephone ringing. “Sorry, have to get this, it’s probably Regina about that delivery tomorrow…” She hurried off into the living room to get the phone. Then there was a loud smashing sound followed by both boys screaming insults at the top of their lungs. Sam hurried over – as fast as he could with his injured leg – to make sure they didn’t need to bring more people to the hospital.

It did not look like anyone was injured. Just the coffee table had been thrown over, smashing a vase and two glasses. The boys were at each other’s throats, apparently fighting over the controller.

“Stop it!” Sam bellowed. At the same time, Sarah shouted, “No, no, everything’s fine!” into the phone that was squeezed under her chin, while she was trying to separate the boys.

“Do something,” Sam told Bucky. Staring did not seem to help to subdue kids fighting over video games.

Bucky grabbed each boy with one arm and separated them easily.

“Let go of my kids!” Sarah shouted immediately and then, “No, really, it’s fine!” into the phone.

Bucky let go of them as if burned and took a step back.

“I’ll call you back,” Sarah said and then proceeded to give the boys a thorough dressing down that ended in the threat to sell their game console if something like this ever happened again, “and I don’t care who started it!”

In the ringing silence that followed, they finally could hear the bubbling and sizzling from the kitchen. Bucky was the fastest and yanked the saucepan from the burner but the damage had already been done, the tomato sauce had boiled over onto the whole stovetop.

Sarah sank down on a kitchen chair. “Can you drive a car?” she asked Bucky.

“Of course.”

*

“Do you have a driver’s licence?” Sam asked Bucky once they were in the car on their way to the hospital.

“No.”

“God help me.” Sam tried to find a position that did not put pressure on his injured leg. Hopeless. It hurt any way.

“Couldn’t exactly take driving lessons as the Winter Soldier.”

Sam chuckled despite himself but then he stopped when he remembered the situation in the living room. “Look, Sarah knows you’re not the Winter Soldier anymore. But parents are wildly protective of their kids and wouldn’t take any chances.”

“I know, I get it.”

“It’s nothing personal. Maybe, once she knows you better, she’ll trust you with the boys, too.” Implying that Sam would bring Bucky to Sarah’s house more often in the future, often enough that she would come to eventually trust Bucky.

“Sam, it’s fine.” Bucky stretched the fingers of his vibranium arm and examined them with a frown. “I need to get your blood out of my hand. It’s not moving smoothly anymore.”

“Jesus, Buck.” Sam let his head fall back against the seat. “Please don’t make any comments like that in the hospital.”

*

Sam felt kind of sorry for the other people in the waiting room. They were injured or sick and now, on top of it, had to deal with the ominous presence and murderous glare of the Winter Soldier.

“Look, this is going to take some time,” Sam finally said to him. “Why don’t you go and…get a coffee or something?”

Bucky nodded and left the waiting room. The air eased immediately. Suddenly there was movement again. A mother let her kid down to run around, a young woman stood up to grab a magazine from the table, a man with his arm in a makeshift sling cleared his throat and attempted smalltalk.

“He’s harmless,” Sam tried to assure everyone. “Guy’s just got a staring problem.”

But then said staring problem was already back and stood in the door to the waiting room – with a cup of coffee in his hand. Well, that had not worked according to Sam’s plan.

“I’m not the Winter Soldier anymore,” Bucky said. “I’m James Bucky Barnes.” Then he smiled an awful smile that did nothing to help his case. He sat down next to Sam and handed him the coffee and a chocolate bar. Pet psychopath, Sharon’s words echoed in Sam’s mind.

Sam had very strong opinions about coffee from hospitals’ vending machines but just now realised that he had not eaten for hours and gratefully took both the coffee and the chocolate bar.

They had to wait for over an hour until it was finally Sam’s turn. The doctor was surprisingly okay with Bucky’s stitches, and just cleaned up the wound, gave him another tetanus shot for good measure (because they weren’t exactly sure yet how the Blip had effected vaccinations), dressed the wound, prescribed some strong painkillers and told Sam to keep the leg still for the next few days.

So that was what Sam did. He spent several days just lying on the couch in the living room, getting progressively competitive at video games. In turn, he tried to teach his nephews board games and helped with their homework to unburden Sarah at least a little bit. He also did a number of phone calls to try to get that damn loan (unsuccessfully). How Sarah had not killed anyone yet was a mystery to him.

Bucky spent the days on the boat. Every evening he came to report to Sam about his progress, never failing to mention how he wasn’t slowed down by Sam’s need for breaks anymore.

“I hate him,” Sam told Sarah, who was happily showing him photos of the boat while Bucky was in the kitchen preparing dinner.

Sarah shrugged. “He is kind of useful. If he continues to work on the boat at that tempo, it’ll be ready to sail much earlier and I can minimise my losses.”

“I’m glad at least someone will profit from this mess.”

“He also knows how to gut and fillet fish.”

Sam chuckled. “Gutting fish and repairing boats – do you think those count as good character traits? Enough to justify falling in love with him?”

“I could introduce you to someone, you know. There’s this new guy in town, he’s an art teacher and he seems like a really sweet guy, very cultured of course and elegant – he is an art teacher after all – and he has those beautiful eyes... I’m pretty sure he’s interested in men.”

Sam frowned. There was nothing wrong with Bucky’s eyes. “Doesn’t sound like my type.”

Sarah sighed. “No, he certainly isn’t. You know, Sam, you do deserve a healthy and loving relationship like everyone else. Maybe give this guy a chance instead of always…” She trailed off. She didn’t have to say more.

“I’ll get back to you if I’m ever over the brainwashed serial killer.”

“It’s just that Daniel might already be seeing someone else by then. Like I said, he’s an attractive guy.”

“Wouldn’t be fair to Daniel if I tried to date him while, well.”

“You know what, Sam? What you’re doing is not fair to yourself. Look, I’ll send you his number, you can text him and meet up for a coffee, no commitment. Just give it a chance.” She opened the contacts app on her phone.

“Dinner is ready.”

Both Sam and Sarah whipped around in shock to see Bucky standing stock-still in the door, holding a plate with fish in each hand. Of course the first thought in Sam’s mind was, How much did he hear? Although it was hard to read Bucky, Sam prided himself in being able to interpret some of his stares. This one was somewhere between confused and irritated. Great.

“Great. Let’s hope you removed the bones properly and no one dies tonight.”

A deep crease appeared between Bucky’s eyebrows. Rightfully so, because that had been a stupid comment. But Sam could not think of anything funny or normal to say right now.

“Great,” Sarah said, then helped Sam up. They followed Bucky to the dining table.

Dinner was torture. The fish wasn’t half bad (no bones) but it was almost cold, which could only mean that Bucky had listened to too much of that conversation before he had announced his presence. And now he was staring again. By now, Sam had grown used to it, but this staring was on a whole new level, as if Bucky wanted to burn a hole through Sam’s forehead with his eyes.

“Staring,” he mouthed at Bucky while the boys thankfully babbled on about a football game a friend of Cass was organising.

Bucky jerked slightly but then finally tore his gaze from Sam and proceeded to glare daggers at the fish on his plate instead.

“Well, that was lovely,” Sarah said at last. “Thanks for cooking.” She stood up to do the dishes but Bucky got in her way with his superspeed.

“I’ll do it.”

Sarah shrugged and threw Sam a pitying glance.

“I’m going to bed,” he announced, explaining to his confused nephews, who did not understand why anyone would voluntarily go to bed so early, that he was really tired.

Back in his room, he flopped down on his bed and groaned loudly. How was this his life? Having a crush was one thing, Sam could easily suppress that. But his co-worker knowing about it… From now on everything was going to be so awkward. What had that stare meant? Would Bucky be fine with Sam’s misplaced affections? Should Sam start dating Daniel just to make it less awkward between Bucky and him? He buried his face in his pillow. Yeah, way to make it all worse and pull another, unsuspecting party into this mess.

There was a knock on his door.

He took a deep breath and sat up, dreading the worst. “Come in.”

Bucky came into his room, closed the door behind him and then – did absolutely nothing. He just stood there and looked at Sam.

“Okay, this is getting weird,” Sam said after about a minute of ominous silence. “Are you going to say something?”

Bucky opened his mouth, closed it again.

Right, one of them needed to do the talking, and obviously it was up to Sam to be the mature one. Nothing new there. “So I’m assuming you eavesdropped on that conversation between Sarah and me.”

“The door was open.”

Oh, finally he was speaking. That was progress. “Anyway. I get that this may be awkward for you.” Sam’s throat was tightening up at the thought of Bucky not only turning him down but maybe even avoiding him in the future because he was…no. He soldiered on. “Just know that siblings often talk trash.”

“I know. I have a sister.”

“Good.” Sam tried to unclench his hands, which were gripping his thighs too tightly. “Then, what is your problem? Is there a problem?”

Bucky shook his head. He stepped closer and sat down next to Sam on the bed, never once taking his eyes off Sam’s face. Sam had no idea what to do. The words were stuck in his throat but it turned out he didn’t have to do anything because Bucky took his left hand, placed it on his lap and cradled it in both hands. So, this was his answer.

Sam exhaled, slowly, shudderingly. He finally met Bucky’s eyes that were still fixed, unblinking, on Sam’s. He liked it. God help him, he liked being the single focus of that stare, he liked the irritated and confused stares, the hard and sometimes worried ones but most of all the challenging ones. Sam was veering towards a highly dysfunctional and co-dependent relationship (if a relationship was something Bucky wanted – they really needed to talk about this!) and he was not willing to change the course.

They stayed like that for too long, eight minutes and thirty-two seconds too long, as the display on Sam’s alarm clock showed him, and each second that ticked by in silence made it more difficult to just speak up and say something non-monumental.

But Sam finally did it because he knew that someone needed to say something and, well, that someone usually tended to be him. “We should probably talk about this.”

“I can schedule a session with my therapist.”

Sam snorted with laughter. “She’d have a field day.”

But Bucky was not laughing, not even grinning psychopathically. He was still staring at Sam, waiting for an answer.

“Wait. You’re taking this seriously. You really want us to do this?”

Bucky gave a curt nod.

Wow. This was monumental. Not meeting up to get a coffee but couples therapy. “Right.” Sam’s heart was beating loudly in his chest. This was like putting the wings back on after many years and flying again. Frightening, yes, but also exhilarating. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

[fiddlepickdouglas]

Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 14 - Unexpected Meeting

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, who will they run into?, 3.2k

@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

WARNINGS: death mention, emotional trauma

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13

“Man, I need a break,” Reggie was saying as he strolled with Alex down an unfamiliar street in the early evening, stretching his arms. “I mean, being in the studio all the time has been good, but on top of everything else it’s just so much!”

Unsure where they were headed, Alex walked a few paces ahead on the sidewalk, casually navigating for both of them. He squinted as he looked at Reggie.

“Reggie, you dropped, like, all of your classes once we signed on.”

“Nope!” his friend exclaimed, tilting his head in a proud manner. “I just needed two electives to graduate. It’s okay, though, man. Not everyone finishes their math requirements as a freshman.” Reggie patted Alex’s shoulder, as if it were any sort of consolation.

“No, good for you Reg,” Alex said. His parents had paid for all this private tutoring and even gotten him to take some college credits early. Of course, his only serious plan after high school had been the band so it was all wasted effort, but then all of their attempts with him amounted to that. He was learning to feel less guilty over it. It wasn’t his fault they never cared about what he wanted.

“How long do you think Luke and Bobby are gonna be workshopping their parts together?” Reggie asked.

“Long enough. Where are we going, exactly?”

“Oh, I was just kind of keeping an eye out for anywhere interesting.”

Alex blinked. “I thought we were headed somewhere specific.”

“I’ve only been to this side of L.A. like, once, so I don’t think I’d make a good tour guide,” Reggie stated.

And just like that, Alex’s mind thrust itself back into remembering Willie. He was getting better at not crumbling completely in the moment, but it still felt like his heart was temporarily dunked into a dark ocean of misery. It would remain waterlogged and heavy inside his chest for a while.

“Alex?” Reggie was saying, looking at him with concern. “You okay?”

Snapping his thoughts back to the present, Alex sighed as he looked back at Reggie.

“I’ll be fine.”

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jean jacket and pressed his arms against his sides. Shoulders hunched, he continued through the crowd. Focusing on walking would hopefully help it wear off. He made every step purposeful, trying to get the weight in his heart to fall through his feet. Reggie’s hand on his shoulder made him turn.

“It’s still rough, isn’t it?” he asked gently. “If I said something - ”

“It’s not your fault,” Alex tried to assure him. “Sometimes it just comes out of nowhere. Besides, I can’t make you and everyone else walk on eggshells.”

“Maybe not, but we’re in this with you. It may have been different for us, but we all met Willie. I’d never seen you warm up to anyone that fast. Even after a few months, it’s still fresh; don’t force yourself to be better for us.”

Pausing on the sidewalk, Alex looked up at Reggie. He tried to smile as gratitude edged its way in, relieving most of the heaviness in his chest.

“I appreciate that, Reg.”

“Of course, man.”

“So,” Alex took a deep breath to let everything else wash away as they kept wandering. “You made it sound like you had a lot going on. Is everything at home okay?”

Reggie shrugged. “Eh...no change there. My mom went to stay with her sister after the last fight, so my dad’s been trying his best to take care of everything, but he’s too upset to handle it well. My little sister has just been sleeping over with friends anyway, and I can handle myself, so - ” he shrugged again, “ - you know, I do what I can.”

Alex nodded. He had nothing really to comment, and Reggie knew he was always there to support him. This wasn’t anything unusual for him, but it still wasn’t right. Neither of them spent much time at their own homes, so wandering through the city like this kept them occupied when they weren’t with the rest of the band. Looking up at the store signs around them, he saw a record store about a block ahead.

“Hey, why don’t we check that out?” he suggested.

“Yeah!” Reggie said, dropping any ounce of gloom from the previous subject and skipping along to catch up with Alex.

A small bell rang as they came through the door, and they immediately began filtering through shelves of records and CDs. Peeking toward the back of the store, Alex could see a counter that offered a menu of food and drinks, some tables, as well as the smallest stage in the world. This seemed like a neat little place.

“Oh,” Reggie started after a while. “I got us a gig playing at my cousin’s wedding.”

“A wedding?” Alex said skeptically, turning from the Pansy Division vinyl he was checking out. “When we’re trying to finish a record and go on tour?”

“It’s Conrad, okay, he’s family! And he said we could make the setlist.”

Alex shrugged, considering that was fair.

“...with his approval.”

At that addition, Alex could only sigh and shake his head.

“And then maybe, you could, I don’t know, finally ask Bobby to be your date?”

Reggie put down the Mötley Crüe album he’d been examining and looked up at him in shock. Alex realized he’d possibly been too blunt. But immediately Reggie began to cover it up, laughing and shaking his head.

“What?” he said, his denial completely transparent. “Was that a...was that supposed to be a joke or something?”

Giving him a look of pity, Alex put his hands on his hips.

“You’re really gonna try to pull the wool over the eyes of your gay friend?”

Caught, Reggie looked back at him in defeat and bowed his head.

“I’m gonna guess you noticed a while ago?”

Nodding, Alex tried to soften his demeanor. 

“There’s been something up with you two for months. How come you haven’t tried to talk to him about it?”

Reggie knit his brow and began fiddling with his fingers.

“Well, I’m a little confused by it, to be honest. Cuz, I mean...I like girls, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“But I like Bobby, too.”

“Okay.”

His friend looked up at him, expecting more of a reaction. Alex leaned against the shelf and folded his arms.

“Do you think there’s something wrong with you? Because you’re talking to the king of wrong feelings.”

“Well, sometimes I feel like that, but not really. It’s something else,” Reggie said.

“Like what?”

“Well...we’ve been friends for years. It just sort of crept up on me and I don’t know what to do. What if he rejects it? He’s one of my best friends.”

Thinking for a moment, Alex looked down at his feet. He didn’t blame Reggie for being worried. He’d had a mini crush on Bobby for a couple weeks back in ninth grade and had the same dilemma. It was easier for him to get over, though, simply because it had faded quickly.

“Well, I wish I could say if it’s meant to be it’ll happen, but sometimes…”

Sometimes it dies in a fire before there’s any chance of knowing.

He shook his head to get rid of the awful thought and ignored Reggie’s look of concern.

“But if I know Bobby, I don’t think it’s going to harm anything. I think you should go for it, Reg. I truly, honestly, will back you up on that.”

A smile spread wide across Reggie’s face.

“Thanks, man!”

Without fretting over it for another second, he turned back to the shelf of CDs he’d been perusing, and Alex did the same. There was a crazy good selection, and Alex wished he could get his hands on a record player. Playing CDs on a boombox worked for some things, but there was a level of charm in playing something on a vinyl record that appealed to him even more. He made a note to get a small notebook to carry in his fanny pack, hoping to return to this store and make a wishlist of sorts to work toward.

“Do I see Alex and Reggie of Sunset Curve?” A familiar voice said from behind.

Both of them turned to find Flynn standing in the aisle, braids tied up into a high ponytail and eyebrow arched in her usual smart fashion.

“Hey Flynn!” Reggie exclaimed, pulling her into a hug. Alex went in for one afterward, happily surprised.

“Hey guys!” she said, grinning.

“What are you up to?” Alex asked.

“Gonna be performing in a bit,” she said excitedly. “Just a warm up before the main group comes on. I’ve been working on some of my own stuff; I think you guys would love it! Got time to stick around?”

“Sweet!” Reggie raised a fist for her to bump. “I’m down. Alex, wanna stay?”

“Yeah, sounds great!”

He had yet to see what Flynn was capable of. If he were to judge only on knowing she’d been in a duo with Julie, he expected it to be good.

“Also, you should try the burritos here,” Flynn told them. “They are to die for!”

The endless click-rollll-click-click-click of his board filled his ears as Willie moved through the street, feeling the wind pass over him in the way that made freedom feel like he could clutch it in his hands. He’d actually spent today not worrying about Alex. It felt good not to dwell on what little past he had access to. Of course, he still had repetitive dreams about the few memories that had come back, but the backwards one with Caleb in it hadn’t come back ever since he’d gotten to LA. Moving forward felt...nice.

He had spent the morning sketching at the beach, getting all sorts of practice in. The beautiful waves, seagulls, the different activities all around him. Somehow a group of young college kids had gotten him to join their volleyball tournament. Willie wasn’t sure if he’d ever played it before, but once he caught onto the game, he’d gotten surprisingly good. It felt nice to roll up the hem of his jeans and dig his toes into the warm sand while playing with a group of strangers. They’d nicknamed him Mowgli, whatever that meant. He liked the sound of it though.

Heading off to work after cleaning himself up, he realized he could spend all his free time that way. Peacefully sketching, meeting fun people, and enjoying his surroundings. Was that all it took to be happy? Willie chuckled at the thought of how much Caleb had stressed over rising to the top of his business game, never appearing to be satisfied with any of it. Leaving Vegas remained the best decision he’d ever made. Of course, he wasn’t always proud about his method of burning down the shed, but it had been one of those...heat of the moment things.

Willie skated up to the back entrance and shook his hair out after lifting off his helmet. Just a few short hours of making food, some chill entertainment, and he could peace out for the night. He headed inside the store and right into the small kitchen. Thankfully, the store didn’t fit too many patrons and it was never hard to keep up with orders, and Kyle had a system so he never had to leave the kitchen. This basically meant he could jam to the live music during the lulls between orders with no interruption.

Kyle entered the kitchen just as Willie was tying on his apron.

“Hey, dude, thanks for coming. We actually got two acts coming in, so it should be a full crowd. Katelyn can be the MC for the first bit, but do you mind taking over for the second half?”

A twinge of excitement came over Willie and he lit up. He’d never gotten to try being an MC before.

“Don’t mind at all!” he said.

“Alright, man!” Kyle exclaimed. “First two orders up: swamp style nachos and a bog burrito.”

“Got it.”

“We’re up for a big night with these performances,” the girl hosting hyped up the crowd. “Let’s give it up for our artist of the night: Flynn Taylor!”

Reggie cupped his hands over his mouth as he hollered along with everyone else’s applause. Alex clapped with a mouthful of nachos. Flynn stepped onto the stage behind a set of deejay turntables, smirking as she began flipping switches and turning knobs.

“Thanks for coming out here everyone,” she said into the mic. More applause and whistles echoed through the room. “We’re gonna make a lot of noise tonight, so let me hear you get pumped!”

As she began playing a beat, Alex bobbed along, immediately interested. He didn’t know a thing about mixing, so he was highly impressed with the different sounds she was using. Then Flynn picked up the mic and began rapping and the whole room cheered.

“...I’m a princess, I don’t need a prince, boy I’m priceless...I’m here to shut it down like a night shift…”

“Man,” Reggie leaned over to Alex. “She’s so good! I say we book her to open for us ASAP as possible.”

Alex merely snorted and chuckled at Reggie’s misuse of the acronym. He actually enjoyed the idea of having Flynn rapping to open for their rock shows. Gigs where all the bands sounded the same got a little flavorless sometimes.

“Also,” Reggie said as he took a huge bite into his burrito. “This is the best burrito I’ve ever had.”

“Lemme try some, you can try my nachos,” Alex said.

All Reggie could say was Mm! as he passed the burrito over.

The final beats of the first performer echoed in the kitchen where Willie had been dancing, waving various kitchen tools around. He’d thoroughly enjoyed the whole set, and wondered what sounded so familiar about the girl who was rapping. Before he could spend more time thinking about it, Kyle came in.

“Okay, you ready?” he asked.

“I just keep people busy and then announce the next group, right?” Willie guessed.

“Yeah, man, you’ve got this!”

“What’s the next group called?”

“Downslide. And they brought some merch, so it’s a good idea to mention that to the crowd as well.”

“Okay,” Willie nodded, slipping out of his apron. “Maybe I could put their t-shirt on or something, you know, sell the look?”

Kyle looked impressed. “Yeah! I’ll go see what they’ve got.”

He left the kitchen and hardly a minute later returned with a jacket.

“They said you could wear it for the night. Not gonna lie, I wish I could wear this, it’s a sweet jacket.”

Willie slipped it on, and turned around. He didn’t often wear jackets, but whatever it was made of was pretty soft.

“Guess I’m ready,” he said, giving Kyle a hand slide and fist bump before leaving the kitchen. He stepped up behind the microphone and looked out at the crowd, and further back, the empty store.

At that moment, he heard the bell of the store door ring and two guys walked outside. Through the window, a familiar leather jacket passed. Then, he saw a head of blonde hair follow, turning to look both ways to cross the street, and his heart grew to fill all the empty space in his chest. It was unmistakable. It had to be.

“Alex...” he breathed quietly into the microphone. Adrenaline immediately went out to his extremities. The crowd before him looked bewildered as they waited for him to announce the next group.

Glancing offstage, he saw Kyle give him a strange look. Willie shook his head, unclear what message he was sending but ultimately knowing he couldn’t stay at his current spot. Before he could think anything else, his legs were bounding out the door. It felt like every ounce of blood in his veins knew. The search was over.

Reggie and Alex had just reached the opposite corner. He wasn’t going to miss his chance.

“Alex!” he cried, running to meet them.

He immediately thrust his arms around a surprised Alex, gripping him tightly, burying his face into his shoulder.

“Oh my god, Alex!” he said, panting. “It’s so good to see you.”

He didn’t feel the hug didn’t reciprocate, and instead Alex grabbed his shoulders and pushed him away. The darkness of the street seemed to envelop him.

“What are you - ?” Alex started, staring back at Willie like he’d just been assaulted. Then shock wiped over his whole face. Then confusion. And then a pain came over all of it that made Willie’s concern grow.

“What - what is it?” he asked, all the excitement gone.

Alex wouldn’t look him in the eye, and he raised a hand to hold the side of his head.

“No, this isn’t real,” he whispered to himself, shrinking backward and shutting his eyes. “This can’t be real.”

Willie glanced over at Reggie, who also stared like he was seeing the impossible. He could see Alex shaking and heard a rattled breath, and felt tension grow thick in the air. Quickly, he went to take Alex’s face in his hands.

“Alex, hey, look, it’s me,” he soothed. He fought to get a look directly into his eyes. “It’s me, Willie.”

Finally, the green ocean gazed back at him, turbulent and restless. What once had been a grounding rhythm of waves had turned into a maelstrom of despair. Even worse were the tears welling up right before him. Willie watched the storm rage for a few seconds, seeking for a moment of calm.

“What’s wrong?” he murmured, lowering his hands. Alex looked so wounded it frightened him.

“How are you alive?” Alex begged to know.

Blinking, Willie sat back, astounded at those words. While he agreed it was a miracle he was still alive, he couldn’t fathom why Alex would ask such a question. He chuckled merely out of discomfort.

“I’m here.” Willie glanced at Reggie, looking for an explanation. “Flesh and bone. Why? What happened?”

Alex looked at him incredulously, jaw hanging open. He looked so tightly wound and so scattered all at once. 

“Caleb told me you were dead.”

Willie blanched inwardly at the mention of Caleb, but even more so at the rest of that sentence he’d been utterly unprepared to hear.

“He...he - ” he stammered for a moment. “When would you have even talked to him?”

Sharing a look with Reggie, Alex took a deep breath. Then he looked back at Willie hesitantly.

“We see him all the time. We work for him now.”

It was Willie’s turn to drop his jaw.

“We’ve been signed to his record label for a few months now,” Reggie pitched in.

Directing his gaze to the ground, Willie puzzled for a minute.

“Why would I be dead?” he asked, looking back up at Alex.

For a minute Alex simply gazed at him wordlessly.

“I don’t know,” he said. There was a pause as both of them finally looked at each other, fully aware that this was real. And then Alex threw his arms around Willie to return the hug. Willie had to raise himself up on his toes to avoid falling over, and he tightened his grip to remain steady. He felt joy spread through his whole torso and breathed a sigh of relief as hands tangled into his hair. “But that doesn’t matter. I’m so happy to see you.”

[moonstruckbucky]

The Recruit (6/?)

Summary: Becoming a SHIELD agent had been your dream and finally, you’ve achieved it. You’re at the top of your class in every field except one—hand to hand combat, and it doesn’t impress Captain Rogers in the slightest. Instead, it seems to convince him you’re useless, setting off a tense relationship between the two of you. In an effort to bridge the gap, Bucky offers to help you train to earn your way back into Steve’s good graces. What could possibly go wrong?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader x Bucky Barnes (not Stucky)

Warnings for Chapter: Some swearing.

Notes: Wow, last chapter blew the fuck up. I’m excited that y’all seemed to hate that cliffhanger, but I hope this chapter makes up for it! Enjoy! x

Series Masterlist //  Main Masterlist

Captain Rogers looks awkward in your living space - broad, large, and imposing where he sits on the couch. He sits stiffly, feeling out of place in your personal space, your private space, observing the tiny glimpses of who you are. He doesn’t feel he deserves it, doesn’t deserve the chance you’ve, to his own shock, given him.

Your rigid posture, hands behind your back, imply you’re expecting orders. And despite his attitudes toward you, you’d obey without question.

It makes his mouth twitch sadly, and he shakes his head. The gesture draws your eyebrows downward. Confusion, perplexion - he can’t blame you. He’d stood outside your door for thirty minutes and he’s still unsure of what he’s actually going to say.

How about, I’m sorry?

He knows you’re losing your already waning patience with him the longer he remains silent. Swallowing heavily, he forces himself to meet your eyes.

“I… I owe you some apologies.”

You almost succeed in masking the sheer shock your expression morphs into, but you aren’t quick enough. He huffs through his nose, a bit amused by you.

“I know it isn’t what you were expecting to hear but… I’d been doing some thinking - a lot of thinking, actually - and the way I’ve been treating you is far from fair. Or right. I haven’t been very accommodating to you since you first interviewed here, and for that, I’m sorry.”

It’s deathly silent between the two of you, and you’ve managed to school your features back into that quiet stoicism that kind of unnerves him. He can’t tell what you’re thinking, and each second you don’t speak drags by like a lifetime.

“What game are you playing, Captain?” you finally retort, terse and clipped. Even from across the room he can see the suspicion in your eyes, the mistrust. He hates that he’d been the one to put it there.

He spreads his hands, a gesture of innocence. “No games, I promise. I know I haven’t given you any reasons to trust me but, I sincerely hope you believe my sincerest apology. My treatment of you...it wasn’t intended to be personal…”

“It sure as hell felt personal,” you snap, and Captain Rogers winces, nodding in understanding. “I mean, what’s your angle here, Captain?”

The title is said scathingly, mockingly, a sneer curling your features. A look that’s so familiar when it’s directed at him it makes his stomach sink, makes it feel like it’s full of rocks. The guilt and disgust with himself puts a wrinkle between his eyebrows.

“What are you getting out of this? There’s no way you’ve just happened to have a change of heart.”

“And if I have?” he questions sincerely.

“Then I don’t believe you,” is your immediate reply. Muscles in your jaw jumping, you continue, “From the get-go you have been nothing but a self-righteous asshole to me, ridiculing me in front of the other agents, second-guessing me, making me feel like I’d chosen the wrong career. You make me feel small, Captain Rogers, and like I don’t belong here. That being said, if your opinion of me actually mattered as much as you think it does, I would have put my notice in months ago.”

He knows the feeling of not being taken seriously, knows the pressure of being underestimated, ridiculed, taunted, pushed until he thinks he’s going to break. The fact he’s pushed you to this point puts nausea in his stomach.

You, meanwhile, can see every emotion as it plays out across his face. The furrow in his brow has grown more prominent, his frown deeper, fingers tightening into fists where they rest on his thighs. He squeezes his eyes shut and for a moment, he looks like he’s going to be sick. A small part of you realizes he’s actually disgusted in learning how he’s made you feel, but the angrier, less rational side of you is quickly stomping it back down.

He doesn’t deserve your forgiveness - not yet. Too many months had been spent questioning yourself, your training, your confidence. Your resentment of him for making you feel such a way is nearly palpable.

“You’ll understand why I’m having trouble believing a single word you’ve said to me.” Not a question, but a confident statement, and he can only nod. He’s done a lot of that in the time he’s been here, but he deserves every biting remark and question of motive you throw at him.

“So...where do we go from here?”

A valid question, but you aren’t sure of the answer, not right away. A few more moments’ pause and then:

“Give me time. Treat me like a human being, like an agent. Like I belong here because you and I know both know that I do. Start with that, and we’ll see. I can promise to remain professional - but only that.”

“I understand,” he says, and he stands because he’s getting the feeling he’s beginning to overstay his very reluctant welcome. “I know you don’t trust me, but I hope I can earn it back. You are a good agent, Y/N, truly. One of the best I’ve seen.”

He departs after your sharp inhale, a compliment that staggers you, honest-to-god nearly brings you to tears. Because even though he’s been a royal pain in your ass, it’s all you’ve ever wanted to hear him say. 

You’re sure that makes you some kind of mental case, but you can’t find it in you to care. Once the door closes, your knees buckle, dropping you into the armchair. A few tears escape your eyes, emotions in overdrive - first the incident with Bucky, and now this? Your head is spinning, a pulse behind your eyes that warns of an oncoming migraine.

You groan, dig your fingers into your eyes because while dealing with the typhoon that is Captain Rogers, you’d forgotten about Bucky. You’d kissed him, or he’d kissed you - you aren’t really sure how it happened, only that it did.

And it shouldn’t have.

As comfortable as you feel around Bucky, as addictive as his presence is, this can only spell trouble - for you and for him. For one, he’s a higher rank, a commanding officer right underneath Captain Rogers. If anything were to happen between you, it’d be so deeply frowned upon you’d probably have to find another job.

Slamming your fist into the couch feels counterproductive and not nearly as satisfying as punching a wall, but you doubt Director Hill would appreciate having to repair it. So you settle for a hot shower and some Bailey’s in a cup of coffee, a book in bed once you’ve rubbed your skin raw. You have a mission debrief later this afternoon, your second mission, and you can’t help the swell of insecurity - will you fuck this one up like you almost did the last one?

Cursing under your breath at the endless bout of tug-of-war in your head, you abandon the book and rifle through your files for the mission summary. You’re determined to do this next one right.

A part of you, a tiny, miniscule part that speaks up against the crowd, wants to do this to prove Captain Rogers right - that you are a good agent, and that hiring you had been a benefit to SHIELD. You’re determined not to let your blunder on your first mission become your legacy. It bothers you that you feel this way - after all, you’d asserted to the Captain himself that you didn’t give a shit what he thought of you. 

It clouds your concentration - your insistence that the Captain’s opinion doesn’t matter, yet your determination to earn your place amongst the ranks. Growling under your breath, you force yourself to memorize the mission notes front and backwards, shove the Captain and his opinions to the back of your head.

You take the stairs down to the conference room, give yourself a little more time to pour over the debrief. When you get there, you’re surprised to see Sam Wilson amongst the six other agents chosen for this mission.

“Agent L/N,” Hill greets, standing at the forefront of the room in front of a projector screen. She waits for you to take your seat before launching into the mission.

A drug kingpin who grew a little too curious about sense-enhancing substances. A bit too close to HYDRA territory, and it’s a simple extraction job. In and out, cease and desist.

Sam’s sent for supervision, to act as the senior agent in case things go awry. To your delight, they don’t. In fact, things go very, very well. Instead of being ordered to stay behind, Sam assigns you the lead position, lets you map out the plan to the other agents. A few heated glares, others envious of the responsibility you’re given, but overall, your plan comes to fruition neatly and quietly. Minimal hand-to-hand, zero injuries or deaths on either side, and you’ve successfully pilfered the scientific documents for the new substances.

You’re congratulated by Sam back on the jet, a bright grin against his dark skin. You like Sam, respect him and appreciate that he hasn’t seemed to judge you for the last time you worked together. In fact, he seems to recognize completely your desire for redemption and he sings your praises on the ride back to the tower, to your embarrassment. Some of the other agents warm up to it and join in, while others roll their eyes and turn away.

It brings heat to your cheeks as he rests a hand on your shoulder and says, lowly so as not to be too overheard, “I can see why Barnes likes you so much.”

A cold panic washes over you, but you just manage to keep it off your face. “What are you talking about?”

A simple disbelieving glance from Sam, a nervous shuffle on your end, and it tells him everything. He smiles knowingly.

“I won’t tease you about it, but you got our resident Iceman all tied up in knots.”

He chortles heartily while your face flames, and you have to look away. Though you feel the twitch of a smile trying to get through. It shouldn’t make you feel as giddy as it does, considering just that morning you’d run away from him.

But knowing you make him feel the same way he does you puts a lightness in your chest, and you resolve to talk to him, apologize for running. The flutters in your stomach intensify as the jet nears the tower, and if Sam picks up on your sudden urgency, he doesn’t say anything.

Chapter Seven

[bagadew]

The Great Ace Attorney Playthrough: The Adventure of the Unbreakable Speckled Band (Part 1)

Last Time: With a little help from Susato, the lady in pink, we discovered that Miss Brett poisoned Dr Wilson with Curare, a fast acting poison that’s only effective when introduced into the blood stream. In a last ditch attempt to avoid justice, Miss Brett destroyed the evidence right in front of the court, but fortunately my man Hosonaga was on hand with new evidence he’d taken from the crime scene, meaning that all we had to do was catch the thief of a rare golden coin, and tie Miss Brett up with her own words! At last I (Ryunosuke) was acquitted!

...only to find out in the lobby that Miss Brett has managed to privilege her way out of any consequences and was gone like smoke in the wind. (Also Kazuma used his sword in a way I found very hot, and I think I’ve accidentally doomed him to death or moral corruption.)

I’m 90% sure The Speckled Band is a Sherlock Holmes case, and I’m 49% sure it’s one of the ones I’ve read. I’m guessing this is where we’ll meet The Great Himbo Detective Herlock Sholmes then!

Well I guess that answers that then.

(And yes, I have read this one)

HERLOCK!

And he’s voiced by Professor Layton maybe???

Ooh, this seems like a Study in Scarlet, are we doing a Study in Scarlet guys?

Herlock has a magic gun!?!

Also I’m not digging this Japanese scripture and talk of it being penned by ‘the victim himself’. Kazuma what did I tell you about leaving my sight?

Wait... I could have sworn I just saw Hosonaga dressed as a sailor...

Oh balls, am I about to be accused of murder again?

Honestly I can’t take you anywhere Ryunosuke

Well Ryunosuke, you remember how you went to a lovely restaurant and got arrested for a murder you didn’t commit?

Well, it’s just like that but substitute restaurant for ship.

Also I’m not liking how little I’ve seen of Kazuma...

Ryunosuke we really need to have a talk about you just saying what people want to hear.

ITS FUCKING KAZUMA ISN’T IT?!

:(

Nononononononono

I knew this was coming, you knew this was coming, Ace Attorney law dictated it was coming as soon as it set Kazuma up as both my mentor and best friend.

But even so, I thought they were just empty threats! I didn’t think they’d actually follow through! Or that we might at least enjoy Herlock Sholmes ad his magic gun together first.

I realise I’m stalling here, but maybe if I just don’t click I’ll not have to see his body.

Sailor Man, I understand that you’re very upset, we all are, but I need you to understand that I’m grieving here.

The man I love took one look at the morally compromised shits I’m normally into and decided he’d rather die than join them! And yes I know I’m still stalling and not taking this as seriously as I should because I still don’t believe it!

See, me and Ryunosuke are on the same page!

I didn’t Susato, but the problem is that you and I have only just met and I’m not very convincing!

:(

Kazuma you legend! I refuse to believe you are dead until I see your corpse.

Now Ryunosuke’s all: I can’t believe they tossed your case around that much. I thought I was going to die.

And Kazuma’s telling me he’s just amazed I fitted inside his trunk in the first place.

Kazuma you can’t be gone! Who else will condescendingly tell me to go to France and ask rather than translate a French label for me?

Now Kazuma’s telling me (Ryunosuke) that I’m going to have to live in his cabin for the next 50 days.

Also we’ve got to keep this from Susato because we’re breaking the law and Kazuma doesn’t want us to take her down with us.

Lol, every day I get shoved into the wardrobe by an uncaring Kazuma!

Oh, that’s what the message said!

God knows what the steward thought Kazuma was keeping in his wardrobe though

:(

See Ryunosuke, this is why we think before we speak.

I don’t envy the real killer when Susato gets hold of them.

From what I can find out it’s a locked room mystery, and the cause of death is still undetermined, so I’m guessing something like poison then rather than an obvious thing, like being stabbed with his big sword.

On one hand, I really hope it wasn’t something like Curare, because I don’t want Kazuma to have gone out like that, but on the other hand poison would explain why the killer didn’t need to be in the room when he died and why Kazuma didn’t strike them down with said big sword.

Ok, so Kazuma, legend that he was, got up every day at the crack of dawn to do sword training. And Susato, who I’m begging to suspect is incredibly hardcore, go up before him so she could go and wait for him outside.

Now that’s interesting.

The two of them seem like they were pretty close, so there’s a good chance it’s just that she’s so familiar with Kazuma’s habits that she can tell the second something’s off, or it could be that there’s some other reason we need to work out.

If that’s correct that means Kazuma was killed in the small hours of the morning.

You know up ‘til now I’ve been assuming Ryunosuke was knocked out or something, and that’s why he was unconscious in the wardrobe, but now I’m starting to think he might have just been sleeping in there.

:((

Wait why’d Kazuma write in Russian?

Like I’d buy that he might know it, but I don’t buy that’s it’s what he’d write in in his finger moments.

Well that proves my innocence then, all we need to do is get some witnesses to verify the ‘go to France and ask’ moment from the last case

Oh ok, I didn’t manage to screenshot it, but it seems that I (Ryunosuke) didn’t put myself in the wardrobe. That’s very odd.

I can see a vent up there, so maybe someone gassed us and then got in while we were asleep and set up the crime scene.

Kazuma said I should come, next question

Ryunosuke, with some of the words that come out of your mouth I don’t think you should be throwing stones.

Love?

Apparently not.

This is going to be something ominous isn’t it...

I’m starting to feel like Kazuma knew he’d never see England.

Kazuma how many toes did you tread on?

Oh fucking hell!

You can’t die and be heading down a dark moral path, that’s not fair!

Yeah, I want to know that too.

Ah

So my poison/drugging theory seems to be holding up. Apparently Kazuma bought me something to eat, I climbed into the hiding wardrobe, and then it’s lights out from there.

Given that I didn’t wake up when Kazuma was killed I’m going to say that also back that theory up. Even if it was silent I feel like Ryunosuke would have woken up if someone was going round the cabin knocking ink bottles over and killing Kazuma.

No, don’t blame yourself Ryunosuke!

It’s my fault really, if I was going to  find Kazuma hot I should have made sure I could manifest inside my switch and protect him!

Ah, of course! Isn’t her dad a professor of pathology? And she seems like the sort of person who picks things up pretty quickly!

In other words, if this is a poisoning, she could be the perfect person to be partnered up with.

:(((

Susato is fully prepared to kick our ass if we try and leave, and as the woman who got up before Kazuma, I think we should listen to her.

:(((((

I say we team up as an investigative duo and catch this bastard!

Yeah!

SHE FUCKED US UP!!!

Susato didn’t come here to play! Especially when we might have killed Kazuma!

(Editors note: this isn’t a bad screenshot, Susato genuinely made Ryunosuke’s vision go blurry)

I know we need to investigate, but my god this woman’s got a fist to match her convictions.

You know when I first met Susato I was a bit afraid she was going to be the inverse of Maya to the point of being meek and shy.

Now I see what a fool I was.

Susato might be prepared to politely follow the rules, but woe betide you if you break them.

She’s even named it!

Again I know this is bad for us but GO SUSATO!

(God damn it you can’t all be my favourite characters)

Her own special martial arts form Ryunosuke!

And just like that she regathers her composure and carries on as if nothing had happened!

I like how she’s still just standing over me.

Ok Ryunosuke let’s go!

(Seriously though we don’t want her as an enemy)

Ah of course, Kazuma stuck the seal on the wardrobe, and the fact Herlock Sholmes (the himbo detective) had to pull it off means I didn’t leave!

No one respects poor Ryunosuke...

So it seems that Susato doesn’t believe we’re innocent just yet, but as we’ve presented the possibility of doubt before her she will let us investigate this room.

Given the buck wild nature of the last trial she was involved in, I honestly can’t blame her for not ruling this possibility out. After all if this was something a witness in a trial had said I’d be thinking the same thing.

Susato’s going to be watching us to make sure we don’t disturb the crime scene, which again is fair.

I’ve got to say, I’m really digging Susato’s cautiously suspicious and sensible nature. It feels like a good counterbalance to Ryunosuke’s beautiful but naïve outlook on life.

I bet if Susato had stowed away onboard a ship you wouldn’t catch her immediately confessing as soon as a sailor started to press her.

Who am I kidding, Susato would never have got into this situation in the first place.

*sob*

Ok so far we’ve got:

A) Half a pink kimono fastener on the floor next to a brick red mark

B) One disturbed table, with the remains of our roast chicken dinner on the floor

C) The terrible knowledge that Kazuma spent his last night on earth hungry because he didn’t like chicken

D) Kazuma’s precious katana, that he loved dearly and that he’d apparently managed to persuade the government to let him bring to the UK.

Oh yeah, drive the knife in why don’t you game!

Why do I feel like Ryunosuke’s about to get roasted?

There we go.

(It’s what Kazuma would have wanted)

DON’T JUST GO WITH IT RYUNOSUKE!

Back to investigating, we’ve got a ransacked shelf, and Kazuma’s London diary.

Just, you know, to rip my heart out...

It looks like the final entry’s incomplete, which means Kazuma was probably writing it when the incident happened. Unfortunately Susato is violently insistent that we respect the Kazuma’s private thoughts after his death, so we can’t read it.

We’ve got the inky Russian(?) on the floor which none of us can either recognize, nor read (including me)

(Sorry to any Russians reading this by the way, I can only assume you’re screaming that this isn’t Russian, but I’m just going by what the Great Himbo Detective said in the cut scene.)

Ok, so the sailor who’s been guarding us got very flustered when we asked if everything was normal last night, meaning that either he’s been skiving off, or everything was in fact not normal last night.

Oh sweet, it seems that Ryunosuke and Susato both read detective novels, and while we’ve shot down the possibility of using the needle and thread trick to unbolt the door from the outside (side note: I must remember to try that later), I feel like both they, and the player who immediately started trying to rattle off facts about Curare, have had a bonding moment.

Ok, I think that’s this half of the room done, let’s go and check out that vent I saw earlier.

So the vent connects to the room next door. That means if the grate could be moved we have a way in and out of our crime scene!

HERLOCK SHOLMES!!!

I mean, he’s quite hard to miss Ryunosuke

(I think Ryunosuke might have an Apollo complex short)

Understatement of the century

Her and me both Ryunosuke, it’s The Great Himbo Detective!!!

WE’RE TALKING TO HIM!

AND HE’S BLANKING US!!!

Herlock Sholmes I understand that you’re in a critical point of your investigation, but you need to understand that Ryunosuke, Susato and I are sad and need to see your magic gun.

YEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSS!!!

IT’S LIKE HE HEARD ME!!!

OH GREAT HIMBO DETECTIVE CHEER ME WITH YOUR WITH YOUR ECCENTRIC ACTS THAT ARE RELATABLE TO MY AUTISTIC ASS!!!

OMFG HE’S SO INCREDIBLY WRONG!!!

I hope this is the way all of his deductions go from now on.

Also I’m sorry Russia and the Russian language, I should not have believed what the man, who on reflection was sold to me as the great himbo detective, said.

Susato’s buying it!

Susato look into my eyes and tell me Ryunosuke could ever make it as a soldier.

No, please do!

And the bullet flies a mile wide!

I’m still upset about Kazuma, but I’m somehow also having the time of my life

SUSATO YOU KNOW I’M FROM JAPAN!!!

SHE TOOK ME OUT!!!

AND MY GOD AM I HERE FOR IT!!!

Ryunosuke’s finally snapped!

What I find amazing is that the Sherlock Holmes Herlock Sholmes stories clearly exist, basically unchanged in this world. So either Dr Watson Wilson was either lying through his teeth to spare his friend’s feelings, or he is the stopped clock is right twice a day person who Herlock actually hit the nail on the head for, and therefore he believed everything that was said.

‘On rout to foreign climates’ that’s how ships work Herlock!

Exactly!

I’ll say one thing for Herlock though, you can’t beat him down!

How am I both Ryunosuke and Susato in this scene?

Yeah Naruhodo-san! I thought you read detective stories!

Quick Susato! Get him to sign a copy!

Um... has no one told him yet...

I’m also curious about the fact that he still believes Dr Wilson’s in London. Either there are two Dr Wilson’s, or something weird is going on here.

Look at his hat Ryunosuke, it contains all the information you need

He got his own name wrong!

Hosonaga, I don’t know if you can hear from wherever you are on this ship dressed as a sailor, but there is a fight and you are rapidly losing!

(Also to be fair to Herlock, as someone who’s been playing a lot of Hitman recently, looking inside the wardrobe already means he’s doing a lot better than literally every character in that game.)

Ok so it was Russian then and I no longer have to apologies!

Do you think Herlock has ever been to Russia?

Ok Mr ‘is this cow a cat?’

:(((((((

HERLOCK THAT LOOKS NOTHING LIKE ME!!!

Ok everyone, we’re also on the lookout for a missing Russian Ballerina along with Kazuma’s killer. I don’t know how, but I wouldn’t have been told about her if she wasn’t relevant

I can’t believe we’ve finally found the vindictive part of Ryunosuke’s beautiful personality!

We’re finally reading Kazuma’s diary!

Oh fuck, Kazuma was bitten by an adder

Wait, if that was the case why didn’t he dispatch it with his big sword? We’ve seen him do precision work before, so that can’t be it.

Either way, I think we really need to talk to the person in the room next to mine.

Also: Herlock Sholmes gets seasick!

Did she just break my cuffs?

My mistake she’s just showing some tough love to get me to buck up!

Let’s go team!

HOSONAGA!!!

“What are you doing here?” “I think that should be my line” This feels like that meme of the two Spidermen pointing at each other

I wouldn’t be so sure Susato. Hosonaga seems a lot like me, a bunch of disabilities held together by sheer force of will.

He still has a job!

(Or his superiors are just trying to send him as far away from Japan as they can)

HELL YEAH HOSONAGA, LETS PUNCH THE RULES UNTIL THEY SQUEAK!

(Also your superiors are definitely trying to ship you out)

Oh...

That would explain Kazuma’s whole vibe.

Although something about this feels wrong. No disrespect to Hosonaga, but as determined as he is he doesn’t exactly have the physical prowess you’d associate with stopping an assassination. I know I haven’t exactly seen him at work yet, but something about this feels like he was set up to fail.

Now the thing is, that while he can cut it as a waiter, Hosonaga isn’t exactly built to fit in among sailors. It’s not going to take a genius therefore, to work out who Kazuma’s guard is, especially if he’s been around Kazuma from dawn till dusk. That’s probably why his killer had to kill him in his cabin, and it’s also why they probably drugged his food (which means they didn’t know him enough to know he didn’t like chicken)

:(((((((((((((

On the plus side though, it looks as though Hosonaga believes in my innocence.

Come on Hosonaga, remember when you bought Miss Brett to us!

Hell yeah Hosonaga!

Hosonaga heard my call! He heard that he was losing his place as my second favourite character and came back swinging!!!

Determination Ryunosuke!

Also probably hacking up a lot of blood, that does wonders to unnerve people in my experience

Now, I should present Kazuma’s diary here... but...

Yes, everything is as it should be...

He’s digging it!

Oh no he took it as an insult!

Sorry Ryunosuke, that’s the crime scene thief’s now

Ok let’s do this properly then

Yeah boy!

LETS DO THIS TEAM!!!

Ryunosuke, do you remember nothing about this man?

Hosonaga didn’t come here to play!

Ok, we’re moving on out (except not right now because I’ve still got a couple of things to look at before we go)

I think Ryunosuke might be a bad influence on Susato...

Also I feel like I’ve pegged Susato wrong regarding the rules. Susato’s just very good at keeping up the appearance of following them.

Come to think of it, the fact she’s a judicial assistant, despite women apparently not being allowed in the Japanese court other than to testify should have clued me in.

Susato Mikotoba: Breaking the rules in front of you, but in a way you don’t notice

(Also the bell pull’s not working, but I think we all expected that)

Susato I’ve been living in a cupboard!

Don’t pity me!

Ok, so I’m not quite sure when Ryunosuke and I started thinking as one, but we’ve all agreed it’s happening now

Ryunosuke do not get caught in the mousetrap!

Susato can see right through me (Ryunosuke)

Umm...

This is the Phoenix Maya dynamic inverted, and I am living for it.

Susato: Now this is an emergency button, it’s very important you do NOT press it!

Ryunosuke: *lunges for the trigger*

It feels amazing being the wayward partner!

Our rout into cabin 2’s blocked by approximately 1 ton of sailor, so for now Susato and I will have to dick around avenge Kazuma out here in the corridor.

It seems that last night’s log is mostly blank, so I’m guessing I was right about the sailor on duty skiving off.

Hmm, so the person in the next cabin’s probably quite important then. Given what just happened with Miss Brett that’s not a good sign.

And it seems like I’m not allowed to visit whoever it is without an invitation... which might prove tricky given as how there in there and I’m out here

Ah good, a Western Gentleman, that’s just what we need!

Hmmmmm

These guys left their post for a while didn’t they?

Either that or there’s something (or someone) they’re keeping off the records.

This might be a bit of a wide shot, but that mousetrap makes me wonder if the crew has some sort of secret pet squirrelled away somewhere. It doesn’t entirely add up what with them putting traps down, but with everyone in Ace Attorney having something to hide it’s all I can think of now.

Bif Strogenov’s left to report to the captain, nows our window to violate some privacy!

HERLOCK SHOLMES!!!

Shot down!

Herlock that thing’s tiny, I don’t think anyone’s in there!

It moved!

Guess I’m eating my words!

Herlock???

Ok, we’re not allowed to look inside the case, or indeed anything, but fortunately we have HERLOCK SHOLMES THE GREAT HIMBO DETECTIVE!!!

Deduce away Herlock!

Herlock... are you about to tell this man that he’s also the Russian Assasin? Are you going to do this round the whole ship until you get it right?

Wait this is working!?!

Herlock Sholmes is Susato’s one blind spot and Ryunosuke’s one point of clarity

CHOOCHOO!!!

THIS IS AMAZING!

He’s not entirely right though...

(Editors note: I completely managed to miss capturing 90% of the ? icons)

I FUCKING KNEW IT!!!

HERLOCK LOOK AT THIS MAN’S NOSE, LOOK AT MY FACE! NOW LOOK AT THE MAN IN THE PORTRAIT!

However, the newspaper in his pocket and the little ! icon seems to suggest there’s some connection there.

(Editors note: I also managed to miss every ! icon)

And there is a crime being committed, but it’s not to do with the case.

Yeah, it probably just contains one of those pets we’re not supposed to have.

So... a baby?

So do a lot of people Susato

Ok, so The Great Himbo Detective is actually really good at making observations, it’s just how he applies them that’s shit.

I wonder if this is what Dr Wilson did for their partnership, but he just cut out the bits where he said things like: Herlock these people have completely different faces, maybe there’s a different reason they’ve got the paper?

Ryunosuke normally: The fact Hosonaga’s working in this restaurant clearly means he’s struggling financially!

Ryunosuke around Herlock: You can’t just say the first guess that pops into your head!

HERLOCK BUSTED US OUT!!!

(Ok he’s also the reason we were in handcuffs, but still)

Olay!

What! Noooooo!

‘Course Correction: Hold it Mr Sholmes!’ What a title!

Important news just in: Ryunosuke can’t grow a beard

A part of me says that he was about to use the sheers to cut up that paper, but there are obviously other copies around the ship, so unless he’s planning a sheers rampage that can’t be right.

Hello!

Wait a second... with that reaction to the paper... is there a Russian Ballerina in there?

WE DID THE HERLOCK SHOLMES COOL SPIN AND CLICK!!!

Also look at Ryunosuke’s little cocky smirk!

He’s really getting into this!

And I couldn’t be more proud!

We’re tag teaming it!

Herlock I swear to god if you tell me she’s that assassin

WHAT DID I JUST SAY!

(Editors note: Got that one!)

I sure am Susato!

Keep telling yourself that Ryunosuke, we can all see the truth

Ah, so the nose was fake too

That makes a lot more sense now!

Well she did disappear with a priceless tiara

He said, rubbing his hand in glee

This is definitely the start of a beautiful friendship!

Damn straight I do!

Bingo

For some reason I pictured it as being pink though, I don’t know why

Anyway so, while Nikolina does need money it seems that she didn’t steal the tiara. Apparently it was given to her as a present.

Also Nikolina is only 15, and has run away by herself for reasons currently unknown. I’m starting to get the feeling that the crew (or at least the two we’ve met) might have been looking out for her.

Oh yeah, the moving travel case!

Given the rules regarding pets, I wonder if that’s what’s in there? It would explain the attitude of the sailors we met.

Is it the Russian Revolutionary Herlock? You have to tell us if it is...

He’s learning!

Yep, she’s looking at the pet rule sign, now show me the pet!

Whoooooooo!

Yeah, I’m pretty sure the guys on the door were covering for her (and probably her pet too)

Hmm, so Nikolina’s running from someone, so she decided to disguise herself to be safe and has been a jumble of nerve ever since.

Can I see...

Bless you Nikolina, but you’re not the best at keeping secrets. I’m pretty sure the crew have collectively decided to just look the other way and let the traumatised 15 year old have her pet.

HE CUFFED ME AGIAN!!!

I wonder if Nikolina’s beloved pet’s a snake?

Can I just...

:(

Fine...

No, everyone must see my badge!

HA!

:(

:D

Ok now let’s go back to actually playing the game!

So, because she’s a jumble of nerves, Nikolina hasn’t been noticing much about what’s been happening around her. However I think she’d have probably noticed signs of danger, like loud noises, so I’m a little curious as to why she didn’t pick up on the sound of the tableware being sent to the floor.

From what I can gather about her ‘never dancing again’ whatever happened probably has something to do with the ballet.

Either that or she’s worried about being linked with her old life if she goes back on the scene under another name.

That’s a good point actually, while people are funny and I can get her wanting a memento of her life, that’s an incredibly distinctive memento to have.

It must have some sort of emotional significance, I think she said it was given to her by an Earl, so maybe her father?

Hmm, that’s a pretty distinctive thing to try and pawn Nikolina.

Yikes! So the Novavich Ballet’s got really unethical working conditions. (Which probably shouldn’t be too much of a shock given the time period.) Now I understand why Nikolina’s so keen to never put herself in that situation again.

Yeah, I thought that was the case.

Huh?

Oh yeah... that is odd

Ah, so that’s why everyone was so on edge!

Right...

(I feel like this would carry more weight if we hadn’t just been flashing our badge at anyone who looks our way)

Now onto the most important question:

HERLOCK NO!

Susato is me (but personally I’m hoping for a kitten)

Ok Genius, what sort of animal is it?

I’ll eat your funky hat if that’s true Herlock

Important information 2: Never trust Herlock with a pet

Please let it be that we were Kazuma’s pet

Wait no, I’m an idiot. I’m obviously supposed to ask about the speckled band

Wow she changed quick!

She’s leaving to talk to the captain, is this our chance to meet her friend!?!

Booooo, we’ve been chucked out!!!

[cyberp-ssy2077]

Cyberparents 2077: A Day in the Life // Part One: Morning (Johnny Silverhand x Female!V)

A/N: Currently three parts to this story are planned: Morning, Afternoon, and Evening. This was inspired by my friend saying that Johnny and my V looked like "those punk parents," and I couldn't resist writing this fluffy/domestic/modern AU as a result. I'm so sorry, LMAO~

Link to AO3!

Plenty of normal people with normal lives wake up to an alarm. If you’re old fashioned, or if maybe you’ve just held onto one you really like, you use an actual alarm clock. Most people nowadays just set an alarm on their phone. V’s wakeup call this morning came in the form of a wild, merciless monster in the shape of her adorable 6-year-old daughter. Thus, V’s alarm clock was high-pitched giggles and tiny pokes to her face that roused her into consciousness, as she slowly became aware of her surroundings.

“Five more minutes,” V mumbled into her pillow, not willing to open her eyes quite yet. Opening her eyes was a sign of weakness and would ensure her defeat, she knew from experience.

“Mommy, you told me to wake you up when I finished my show,” a voice lisped, with an impatient edge to it. In her mind’s eye, V could picture little hands on little hips, head cocked to the side. Her daughter had such an attitude, but with her parentage, it was little wonder where she got it from.

Conceding defeat, V sighed dramatically and prepared to sit up, but was stopped by the vice-like grip of a well-toned arm snaked around her waist. Ah yes, the drama king himself, V thought wryly. Said arm, belonging to said drama king, pulled her back into a warm body that curled itself around hers.

“Why don’t you go wait for us in the kitchen, princess?” a voice rumbled from behind V. Eyes now open, V watched as their little girl tossed her thick black hair over her shoulder, rolled her eyes, and stomped out of the room with a huff.

“You know, I blame you for that,” V teased, twisting around in her husband’s grasp. “You spoil her too much.”

Johnny was staring up at the ceiling, silently but emphatically mouthing what seemed like every last curse word he knew. Needless to say, it took a moment. V giggled at his antics, a common enough occurrence once they decided they had to institute a moratorium on cursing while in the same building as their impressionable, headstrong, and precocious offspring.

Undeterred and amused, V kept going, poking at Johnny’s stomach and sides. “Hey, she was your idea, remember? Come on V, think about it, let me put a baby in you-”

V’s teasing cut off into uncontrollable giggles and shrieks as Johnny overpowered her, pinning her wrists on either side of her head and burying his face in her neck. His facial hair scraped satisfyingly over her skin as he teased her, wedging one of his legs between hers.

“Keep talking like that and I’ll put another one in you right now,” Johnny growled flirtatiously, all parts of his anatomy significantly more awake than they were a few moments ago. V laughed, but knew he was only half-joking. For all of their teasing, they adored their child and wanted another.

“Not so fast mister, we already have one irate little beast downstairs in the kitchen waiting to be fed, in case you’ve forgotten,” V stated matter-of-factly, sliding out from under her husband’s embrace.

“V! Babe, come on, just a quickie,” Johnny whined, giving her his best puppy dog eyes as he half-heartedly tried to drag her back to bed. V kissed the hand that was still holding onto her wrist and broke contact, laughing as she walked out the door.

“Later, Johnny! Take a shower,” V said mockingly. She could hear a thud and some grumbling as she made her way down the stairs. Shaking her head in amusement, V rounded the corner into the kitchen where she was met by a full stack of ingredients arranged neatly on the counter. The curator of the collection stood to the side, arms crossed.

“You were taking too long and I want pancakes, so I helped you,” she declared imperiously.

“Oh, I see,” V responded with mock seriousness. “I’ll have to consider this deal… Can you ask me nicely for pancakes?”

V was rewarded with a toothy grin and the cutest “please” she’s ever heard, and her daughter was rewarded with pancakes. While V was firing up the coffee maker, the third member of their household tramped noisily downstairs.

“Do I smell pancakes?” Johnny asked as he entered the room, immediately making a beeline for the counter next to V. For her part, V held her ground with a smirk, blocking Johnny’s access with her body.

“I don’t know, what’s the magic word?” V asked smugly, not able to resist teasing her husband at any opportunity.

Johnny scowled. “Oh, come on, really?”

“Daddy, it’s ‘please,’” their daughter stage-whispered through a mouthful of pancakes. Johnny smiled at his daughter and winked, not able to resist her charm.

“Thanks, princess. Please may I have some pancakes, my darling wife?” V gave Johnny a toothy grin, knowing that if their daughter weren't present, "my darling wife" would've been substituted for something much different.

“Hmmm, well since you asked nicely, I guess you can,” V said coyly, sliding out of the way and grabbing plates for the two of them. “Sam, are you almost done?”

The controversy over the naming of Samantha Keiko Silverhand was, even six years later, absolutely legendary. Johnny had been fighting tooth and nail to get Samurai into their child’s name somehow and V was dead set against it, not wanting their child to live with the ghost of her father’s past in her face for the rest of her life. They compromised, and Johnny got to include “Sam” in their child’s name, while V got to pick the middle name and the godparents; not that Johnny had any objections to either. Yes, it was completely fair.

“Yep, I’m done now,” Sam answered cheerfully, hopping down from her chair and bringing her plate to the sink.

“Make sure you go get dressed, mkay? I’ll come up in a little bit to make sure we have everything you need for today.”

“Okay!” Little footsteps pattered up the stairs, and V and Johnny were alone.

They consumed their breakfast in relative silence, each adult mulling over their checklist of responsibilities for the day, occasionally conferring with one another to coordinate details.

“If you drop off Sam with Misty, you can pick up Jackie at the same time and head to Relics from there,” V proposed. Despite its name, the little dive bar Johnny had built up was nothing fancy; and that was how he liked it. Reminded him of his roots, something like that. The thing that set it apart was how much Johnny had invested in it as a performance venue, his standards nothing less than kick-ass. It definitely paid off, and the bar was bringing in a tidy sum to support the family of three.

“Jackie can drive himself, doubt he’d want to ride with me now that he’s got that bike,” Johnny shook his head. “‘Sides, I think I wanna take my bike too. How long do you have before Wilson is expecting you?”

V glanced at the clock on the stove. “I have a couple hours. I can take Sam with me when I run to the grocery store and drop her off on my way back, and still be on time.”

“Guy’s a hack, I don’t know why you still bother giving him a hand,” Johnny commented irritably, rolling his eyes. Johnny’s opinion of Wilson was not a new topic of conversation.

“You sure don’t mind when I bring home an extra paycheck, and unlimited access to the range,” V replied cheekily. “You know I prefer the work I can do at there to anything else I could be doing, ‘specially now that Sam’s going to school.” V loved Relics, but it was Johnny’s passion project, not hers.

“It’s the weekend,” Johnny needled. “You’re still sticking around after dinner tonight, right?”

V rolled her eyes, “Of course, you know I wouldn’t miss it.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Johnny smiled crookedly. “So, recap, you drop off Sammie at Misty’s, Misty’ll make sure that the girls get to the dojo, and then to Relics at around 5. You have your thing at Wilson’s until about 6, at which point you’ll meet up with us at Relics and we’ll head to dinner. Then Misty’ll take the kiddos back to her place for a sleepover, and we can enjoy some ‘adult time.’ Did I get all that right?”

“Sounds solid to me,” V replied, smiling back at him and clinking her coffee cup against his.

Part Two

[supermarvelgirl15]

Delicate Type of Beauty- Chapter 6: Walker

Summary: You and Bucky learn the news of John Walker becoming the new Captain America. You both also learn about the Flag Smashers.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes × f!oc-insert

Word Count: 3,305

Warnings: None I think

A/N: Here's the first chapter of part two! I loved writing this chapter! Let me know if you pick up my references to other movies hehe. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did!

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

××××××

    “Of all the people they could’ve picked, they picked him?”

    “They needed another ‘golden boy.’ He’s the best at acting like he’s one.”

    Your grip tightened around your phone as you closed your eyes. “Do they know how he got those Medals of Honor?” You asked through gritted teeth, your free hand curling into a fist at your side.

    “Probably not. Even if they did, they wouldn’t care,” your friend Dylan responded. You didn’t want to admit it, but you knew that he was right.

    Letting out a defeated sigh, you ran your hand through your hair. “Dylan, you were our Captain, couldn’t you say something? Tell them that he can’t be Captain America?” You already knew the answer, but at this point, you were desperate.

    Walker could not be Captain America. Anyone but him. He just didn’t think through things like he should. Whether he had the right idea or not, he never executed his plans properly.

    Dylan sighed into the phone and you could tell exactly what was going through his mind. “I don’t have that authority anymore, Kris. We were all forced into retirement, remember,” he told you, the bitterness evident in his tone. You could hear him suck in a breath before he continued. “Well, I got to go. Carrie wanted to take the kids out for breakfast and she’s been giving me the look for the last five minutes,” he said, the bitterness in his voice replaced with amusement at the mention of his wife.

    A small smile played on your lips at the thought of your Captain finally being able to do activities with his family, how domesticated it sounded. Maybe the early retirement was a good thing for him. “I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble with the boss lady. Have a good time, Dylan,” you ended before hanging up the phone.

    You ran your hand over your face, taking a deep breath. You had no idea of what you were going to do now. You couldn’t look for Colton, you couldn’t even do anything about the whole Captain America situation, which was, in a way, kind of ironic. The last time there was a Captain America situation, your team was sent to find him and his allies. But when that circular spaceship came down from the sky, your team decided that the world needed Rogers and his team, despite what Ross said.

    Looking at your watch, you saw that Bucky would also be up at this time, if he even went to bed the night prior. Grabbing your jacket, you made your way out of your apartment to go knock on his door. You knew Bucky wasn’t happy about the new Captain America deal either, but his unhappiness was for a different reason, which was completely understandable.

    Bucky opened his door a moment later, not saying a word to you as he returned back into his apartment. You took his silence as a sign that he was pissed as you quietly followed him inside, watching him as he sat down on the floor in front of his television, his expression never changing. You carefully sat beside him, your eyes following his gaze to the screen in front of you.

    “-know Steve Rogers?”

    “I was two years out of West Point when Steve came back on the scene. I followed his career very closely as an Avenger. I like to think that I modeled my work after his,” John Walker answered the interviewer, making you scoff.

    “So, you've always wanted to be a hero,” the interviewer then questioned him.

    “I liked that what I was doing would make people feel safe. Steve Rogers was the kind of guy who could do that, he gave me hope. Even though I never met him, he feels like a brother.”

    Your eyes immediately darted over to look at Bucky, seeing his jaw clench and his eyes narrow at the television screen. You had no idea what was running through his mind right now or what he was currently feeling. Honestly, you’re not sure if you wanted to know.

    You pushed yourself off the ground, reaching over Bucky to grab the remote, turning the program off. Watching Walker just talk made your blood boil, you couldn’t even imagine what it did to Bucky. You looked down at Bucky, only for his eyes to still be trained on the now black screen.

    Shrugging your jacket off, you threw it over one of his very few chairs. “You know, if you need help finding furniture, you could just ask. Unless you like the floor, which is fine, I guess.” You tried to lighten the tension that filled the room, but judging by Bucky’s nonreaction, that wasn’t going to happen at the moment.

    Bucky stayed silent, still refusing to even look at you. You desperately wanted to say something that would help him feel even just slightly better, but your mind was just blank. To be fair though, you weren’t exactly the best at comforting people in the first place. You could only go by what you would want to hear if you were in that situation.

    “He doesn’t deserve that shield, Kris.”

    He finally looked at you then and you secretly wished that he didn’t. You could see every emotion that he was feeling flash through his eyes. Hurt. Anger. Sadness. At that moment, you swore to yourself to never be the cause of that look in his eyes ever again. It made you sick.

    Biting your lip, you sat back down beside him on the floor. “I know,” you replied quietly, looking down at your hands in your lap. You wanted to reach over and grab his hand and tell him that everything would work itself out in the end, but how are you supposed to tell someone that when you don’t even believe it yourself?

    Bucky let out a shaky breath, his eyes scanning over his vibranium arm, flexing his hand out in front of him. “Do… Do you know him? Walker?” He finally spoke again, dropping his hand down as he turned to face you.

    Yeah, we worked together closely on a few missions back in the day. Maybe a little bit too close because I trusted him with my life when I definitely should not have. Maybe that’s where my trust issues started. Huh, I guess I didn’t need a therapist for that.

    “I used to, a long time ago. I haven’t spoken to him in years,” you answered out loud. This wasn’t the place nor time to unpack all of that. “When we last saw each other, it wasn’t exactly on good terms,” you added, hoping that Bucky wouldn’t ask what happened. You couldn’t even talk about it to your brother, so you knew you couldn’t with him, even if you tried.

    Bucky just nodded, his nose twitching slightly as he looked away from you. Hesitantly, you reach over and grab his hand, giving it what you hoped was a comforting squeeze. You felt Bucky squeeze yours in return, the both of you just sitting on his floor in the comfortable silence.

    For a while, neither of you spoke a word. You just held each other’s hand, finding comfort in just being in the presence of the other on the floor of Bucky’s apartment. You still weren’t sure what was going on between the two of you. Sure, you knew you were at least friends, and it was a normal thing for friends to find peace with each other and to hold hands platonically. It was normal for friends to quiet the other’s demons too, right? At least, Bucky seemed to quiet yours, you just hoped you did the same for him. He needed that more than you ever did.

    It startled you when Bucky suddenly stood up, letting go of your hand. You watched silently as he slipped on his jacket and pulled his gloves over his hands. “Where are you going?” You finally questioned, pushing yourself off the ground to meet him.

    “To talk to Sam.” His answer was short and to the point. You knew he wasn’t purposefully trying to be that way towards you, even if you still deserved it after what you did to him. He was just still upset about the Walker matter. Although, you were still confused about how quickly Bucky seemed to forgive you, it seemed uncharacteristic.

    Your eyebrows furrowed together in confusion as you crossed your arms over your chest. “Sam? Sam Wilson? Like the Falcon?” You even flapped your hands like a bird to emphasize your question, which seemed to get a short, breathy chuckle out of Bucky.

    It did make sense for him to go to Sam, since he was the one that put Rogers’ shield in the museum- which didn’t make sense to you- but surely he never intended for them to give it to Walker. “Steve gave it to Sam for a reason. And he gave it away.” You could pick up Bucky’s bitterness in his tone. It was the first time he even uttered Steve’s name in front of you, so you knew how upset he was.

    You nodded and then reached for your jacket to put it on as well. “I’m going with you,” you told him, which immediately caused Bucky to protest.

    “No, you’re not. I need to talk to him alone,” Bucky stated firmly, his head shaking to emphasize his point. You gave him a look and Bucky knew that if he let you get a word in that you could easily convince him to let you go, and that wasn’t going to happen.

    He grabbed your shoulders then, making you stop from opening your mouth. “Kris, this is something I need to do on my own. When I get back, I promise I will help you find your brother.” He watched as your features softened, a small sigh leaving your lips in defeat. Bucky caught himself staring at your lips again for a brief moment, but he knew better. You deserved better. Instead, he gave you the best smile he could manage and settled for a kiss on your forehead, your skin feeling soft against his lips. “I’ll be back soon,” he murmured against your skin and forced himself to let go. He tried not to look into your eyes as he slipped out the door.

                                                        ★

    “A word of advice, then. Stay the hell out of my way.”

    God, Bucky wanted to bust Walker’s skull wide open. He’s wanted to do that ever since he first laid eyes on him. The man was nothing like Steve and he would never be. No one would. The world was just so desperate for another Captain America to idolize. It just didn’t make sense to Bucky.

    Now, there was a new group of super soldiers that he had to deal with. On top of that, he had to work with Sam to get to them before Walker and Battlestar did. There was no telling what they would do if they got a hold of them; a group of people with all that power.

    He knew what he had to do next. Did he want to do it? Of course not. But he didn’t exactly have another choice either. It was the only way they could get ahead of Walker. Maybe Sam would understand that and not put up much of a fight.

    Then again, there was also you.

    Maybe you would know something about how Karli Morgenthau got ahold of the serum. It was a long shot for sure, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask. Maybe he and Sam can stop by before they go to Germany, that is, if he can convince Sam to go. There was only one way to find out.

                                                         ★

    Before you even got to your door, you knew that it was Bucky on the other side. Though, there wasn’t really anyone else that it could be. You opened the door without looking through the peephole first, so you were surprised to find not only Bucky standing there, but also Sam Wilson. Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion as you shot Bucky a look, only to see Sam giving him the same look as well.

    “We need your help,” Bucky spoke up, giving you an apologetic look. With a small nod, you invited them both inside your apartment, checking the halls to see if anyone saw them before closing the door.

    You quickly cleaned off the files on your coffee table, not missing the way Sam was looking at you. You knew it made you look suspicious, but you didn’t care. If anything, you thought that it was sort of funny. Who would’ve guessed that two of your old targets would be standing in your living room asking for your help?

    “Do you know anything about any super soldier activities?” Bucky was straight to the chase, not wanting to waste any time. You could tell that they were both in a hurry. You also wondered what the hell super soldiers had to do with anything. To your knowledge, the only super soldiers that ever existed were Rogers, Bucky, some Russian guy, and a black man from the fifties. You knew that there were multiple experiments that tried to recreate it. For example, the one that Banner was tricked into making that turned him into the Hulk and made that Blonsky guy into an abomination.

    “Not recently, no. But I can go check the records for any recent activities,” you answered, throwing your thumb over your shoulder towards your bedroom, where you kept your laptop. You met Sam’s gaze, taking in his raised eyebrow as he looked you over. “Um, if you want a drink or anything, Buck can show you the kitchen,” you told him before leaving to retrieve your laptop. You could hear Sam’s oh, so she can call you Buck before you were out of earshot.

    When you finally came back into the room with your laptop in hand, you had interrupted an argument between the two men. You could’ve sworn that you heard your name being tossed around. However, that wasn’t important at the moment.

    Bucky stopped talking as soon as he realized that you were back, turning to give you his full attention. You saw Sam glance between the two of you before he turned to face you as well. Clearing your throat, you pulled up some redacted files. “Okay, so apparently the CIA pulled some doctor from Hydra after it fell to work on a super soldier serum. However, his work was abandoned after he was turned to dust. It doesn’t say if he ever completed it or not. It also never says a name.” You looked up when you were finished, biting your lip.

    Both Sam and Bucky shared a look, silently communicating with one another. Sam looked back at you with a friendly smile and thanked you for your help before he went to wait outside for Bucky. At least he didn’t seem suspicious of you anymore.

    When Sam shut the door behind him, Bucky finally started to fill you in on what the hell was going on. He told you about Karli Morgenthau and the Flag Smashers and how they were super soldiers. He told you about how they were stealing supplies and how Walker interrupted him and Sam during their fight. Your face fell when Bucky started talking about Walker and you could feel the anger that Bucky felt inside him about the new Captain America. You wished that you were there, just so you could punch Walker right in his jaw.

    “So now, Sam and I are on our way to see Zemo,” Bucky finished, chewing on his bottom lip. Your eyes widened at that, but you kept your mouth shut. Even you knew that was the only way, no matter how much you hated that Bucky had to see him again. You took a deep breath and nodded. You understood what they had to do.

    But then you realized that they would have to go to Germany. Which is on the other side of the world. Where your brother was.

    “I'm going with you.”

    Bucky squinted his eyes at you and stood there silently for a brief moment. “Oh, no, you're not. I don't want you anywhere near Zemo or those super soldiers. I know what they can do and what they're capable of.” He knew that if you went along, that his focus would be on keeping you safe rather than taking care of the Flag Smashers, and he couldn't afford that.

    You rolled your eyes as you went back to your bedroom without saying a word to him. When you came back out with your go bag over shoulder, Bucky started shaking his head profusely.

    “Bucky, I've dealt with people that could manipulate fire. I'm pretty sure I can handle some juiced up soldiers.” Sure, you had a whole team with you, but you could still handle your own.

    “Kris, this is different. You don't have a squad and you don't have access to any kind of armory other than what we already have. Super soldiers are no joke and you know that. They're dangerous. I can't protect you from them and if something happened to you, it would be on me. And… And I can't handle that.” When Bucky's voice got quieter at the end, it almost made you want to reconsider going.

    Almost.

    With a sigh, you reached out and grabbed Bucky's hand. You watched for a moment as his still gloved thumb brushed over the back of your hand in a soothing manner, and the thought about normal friend things came back to your mind. You knew what you needed to do, whether he liked it or not.

    You gave his hand a squeeze, using your other hand to gently grab his chin to make him meet your eye. When you met his ocean blues, you felt like you could swim in them. “I know you don't want me to. But, Buck, I've done this my whole life. You have to trust me to take care of myself.” You kept your voice soft as you spoke, never letting go of his chin even as his facial hair pricked your skin. “This is also my only way of getting closer to finding Colt. They won't let me leave the country. Going with you and Sam is the only way. Helping you stop the Flag Smashers is just a bonus,” you ended, hoping your attempt at a joke would ease the tension.

    Bucky stepped away from your hold on him, running his hand through his hair. He couldn't focus with you holding him like that. Like he was the most delicate thing in the world, especially when he was the one that broke delicate things. He wasn't sure what was going on inside him. He knew he cared about you, but damn did it cloud his judgement.

    He also knew that you would find a way over there with or without him. And if you happened to run into any of those super soldiers by yourself, without him there to help you, he would never forgive himself.

    You watched as Bucky let out a defeated sigh and you couldn't help the small smile that graced your lips. He looked back up at you, biting the inside of his cheek. “I did promise you I'd help you find him,” he finally said, placing his hands on his hips.

    Excitement rushed through you at the thought of being closer to finding Colton. Sure, Asia was a huge continent, but for once, you tried to look at it glass half full instead of half empty.

    However, you had to take care of the Flag Smashers first.

××××××

@bucky-bunnie @learisa @magconfangurl1 @lylthy @rosiahills22 @denimbex1986 @twd-rocks-blog (If you would like to be removed/added please let me know!)

[keanureevesisbae]

eunoia - chapter 1

Summary: Quinn is back in Delacroix, Louisiana

Sam Wilson x Quinn (Asian ofc)

Warnings: Some spoilers for Civil War, Inifinity War, Endgame and TFATWS

Wordcount: 3.2k

Masterlist // eunoia masterlist // Previous chapter

I watched AJ and Cass grow up into the boys they are now. It might be obvious to some, but I came to the realization that every step of their development is crucial. Teaching them boundaries, new skills and their abilities when it comes to social interaction.

Noticing that importance, made me wonder even more about the things that had happened in my past. What significant events happened for me to become who I am today. I don’t feel like anyone, like I have no personality, no history.

Fragments of memories are the only things I have left of my past. I remember laughing with people, though they remain faceless till this day. I remember warm weather, cold weather, but the hugs are the same. They are loving, caring. But there is also a lot of pain and exhaustion. There is confusion when I saw Bucky for the first time being contained in a small cell.

But those fragments are not equal to an entire memory.

Everything I started to experience is from the moment Zemo let me out of that cell back in Munich. Fighting alongside the Avengers, though never actually being one of them, meeting people during my solo trips through the country and sleeping in abandoned buildings by myself, since I had no money.

Delacroix, Louisiana, however, is the only place I dare to call home. I know there is a place somewhere that used to be home, but since I haven’t found that yet, I’ll rely on the place that feels most secure.

Of course I was aware that going here could mean bumping into Sam. It’s a risk I’m willing to take, because I missed spending time with the Wilson’s, especially AJ and Cass. I wonder though, what Sam might think. Me spending time with his family in the years he couldn’t.

I grew so close to the three of them, whilst we only had one thing in common.

Knowing Sam.

Since Tony’s funeral and Steve handing the shield to Sam, I have been wandering around the different states, even making slight detours to Canada, hoping to find something. I have been so desperately wanting to know something for so long. Anything that could be something that should be a treasured memory of mine.

Much to my dismay, I am still left in the dark. I have no idea who I am, where my roots started and who is out there missing me.

Are there even people missing me?

After I scolded the boys for growing, I hold up my hand to the older guy who has been appreciating my arrival from the moment I got here a little over five years ago. ‘Hi Carlos,’ I say to him.

‘Miss Quinn!’ he exclaims, rushing over to me in the fastest pace he can and hugs me tightly when I’m within arms reach. ‘Oh, do I love it when you join us.’

‘I love to be back.’

‘You’re gonna help me out, right?’ Carlos asks. ‘Things go much slower without you here. No one has come even close to your strength.’

‘I figured,’ I say with a smile. ‘I’ll help you out, okay?’

He blows me a kiss, before AJ, Cass and I walk towards Sarah and Sam. I shouldn’t be nervous, but I am. While Sam was contemplating whether or not to take the shield from Steve, I sneaked out. Ran off hating Steve. Hating the fact that he got older. Being able to go back in time, to not only place back the Stones and what not, but also to grow older with Peggy.

The love of his life.

He got to live his happily ever after with someone from his past, something that I would probably never experience. It took me months to realize that I wasn’t mad at him.

I was simply jealous.

Sarah opens her arms for me and I don’t waste a single second before letting myself being engulfed in her warm embrace. How I longed to feel a hug from her. ‘I missed you,’ she says to me.

‘I missed you too,’ I admit softly.

‘Don’t you dare leave me alone for too long.’ She holds onto my upper arms and glares at me. ‘The kids missed you too much.’

‘We did,’ they confirm in unison

I can’t help but laugh. ‘I missed them and you too much as well, hence the reason I came back.’

‘Oh, so you didn’t came back for my brother?’ She cocks an eyebrow. ‘He too just arrived.’

Sam scoffs and I pretend to roll my eyes, but I cannot miss the tone in her voice. She always pestered me about her brother, saying that if he were still here, we’d probably be all over each other.

Yeah right…

I remember first arriving here and staying in the guest room, one where Sam used to sleep if he crashed here in Delacroix. She caught me looking at pictures of Sam and slightly bullied me because of it. Maybe it seemed like I liked him, but the truth is: I realized how much I missed him.

Back when I helped out the Avengers, he was the only one I truly trusted. Because I cared so much about him, I went out of my way to go to his DC apartment in the midst of all chaos, to grab some personal belongings of his and make my way to his family.

Sam promised me he would always have my back and I don’t blame him for not keeping his promise. It’s just that now that he is back and I’m about the face him, it hits me how much his five year absence killed me deep down.

I’m too afraid to meet his eyes, but I know I have to eventually. ‘Solely for the kids,’ I say to Sarah, because that is the main reason I came back. The kids and Sarah.

Sarah squeezes my upper arms, almost as some encouragement and I look up to Sam. ‘Hi Quinn,’ he says to me, his voice warm, welcoming and trusting.

I missed him. I missed him looking at me. All of his attention directed to the person he’s talking to. It’s good to be on the receiving end of it.

‘Hi Sam.’

‘How are you?’

I have no idea actually. ‘I’m okay,’ I answer. ‘You look good.’

He seems a bit surprised, but a slightly cocky smirk appears on his lips. ‘As do you.’

Sarah frowns, as she looks from me to Sam back to me again. ‘How about you two catch up?’ She opens a cool box and grabs two beers. ‘I’ve got your favorite, Quinn. You must be tired from your trip. You deserve it.’

‘You’re the best, Sarah, thank you.’

Both AJ and Cass stand next to me and give me a tight hug. ‘You’re already taking her away, uncle Sam?’ AJ asks. ‘That’s so unfair. We want to know how the battle against Thanos went.’

‘I’ll be back before you know it,’ I say to them, slightly touched because they don’t want me to go.

‘Is this Superhero talk?’ AJ asks, looking at his uncle.

‘Boys, I told you,’ I say, ‘I’m no superhero.’

‘But you’re really strong,’ Cass says. ‘I think you are a superhero.’

‘She totally is,’ Sam says. ‘You should’ve seen her in the battlefield.’

I don’t do blushing, but I do this other thing: my ears turn in this fiery red color. It’s horrible, I hate it and of course today of all days I’m wearing my hair up in a ponytail, for everyone to see how the tips of my ears turn red.

‘Uncle Sam, to be fair, we like her more than we like you.’

Sam cocks an eyebrow. ‘Is that so?’ he asks. ‘That means I need to work extra hard to be number one again.’

‘If you get me one of those flying suits, you two are even.’

‘AJ,’ Sarah says, ‘we spoke about this. I’m not gonna let you fly around. Sorry Sam, you’re in third place.’

‘Third place?’ Sam asks, pretending to be offended. ‘Why third?’

‘Because mom is number one, auntie Quinn is number two and you are number three,’ Cass says. ‘Duh.’

Sam and I sit on the dock, both staring at the old boat. Paul & Darlene. A nearly nostalgic smile appears on my lips. ‘Sarah and I tried to fix it up,’ I say, flicking the cap off the beer bottle, doing the same for Sam. ‘Emphasis on tried. We didn’t have a lot of money, we had tons of other stuff to do and I have no idea on how to fix up a boat.’

Sam nods, grabbing the beer from me as I hand it to him. ‘Figured, think the two of you broke something in the process,’ he chuckles.

‘That would’ve been me, I’m sorry.’ I take a sip of the beer and think about the next thing I’m gonna say. ‘So,’ I start, ‘you gave up the shield.’

‘Not in the way you might think,’ he says, almost in a bit of a defensive tone. ‘I didn’t give it up. I gave it to the museum where it belongs. It’s a piece of history, not mine to use.’

I frown, as I fear that he might not know what I know. ‘You think it’s gonna stay in a museum?’ I ask.

Now he looks up. ‘Of course, what do you think?’

‘Well,’ I say, ‘it’s not gonna be part of the exhibition. There is… Someone who will receive the shield soon.’

It pains me to see his expression. The hurt, the betrayal. Poor Sam, he obviously wasn’t told about that. ‘I had no idea.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ I whisper.

‘How do you know?’

I shrug. ‘I went to one of my hackers,’ I say, ‘to see if he could help me with carefully running my picture through any database. We stumbled upon some governmental documents and it read that once they had the shield, they would give it to some guy who is training for it. I believe his name was John Walker.’

‘That could be anyone,’ Sam notes with a scoff.

‘Exactly,’ I agree, ‘but it shouldn’t be anyone. Steve gave that shield to you, not this John Walker guy. I’m not saying that giving the shield for an exhibition was wrong, but… I do know this is not what both you or Steve had in mind when you gave the shield to the Smithsonian.’

Sam shakes his head and from the looks of it, he is beating himself up over this. ‘They should’ve told me.’

‘Had they told you, would you kept the shield?’

He nods. ‘It’s Steve shield, not mine, not this John guy.’

I have no idea what I should say to him. I want to say about myself that I know how to comfort someone, but that someone is not a grown man. The only ones I can remotely comfort, are AJ and Cass and when necessary, I can sort of calm Sarah down (though I have gone wrong there maybe once or twice).

‘Is this John Walker gonna go public any time soon?’ Sam asks.

‘I don’t know.’

‘Why do you think Steve gave me that shield?’

I was not expecting that question at all, but it’s an easy one to answer. ‘You’re the only one worthy of the shield, of that legacy. You are more than Captain America’s friend, Sam. You are the only one that can live up to the expectation.’

‘I don’t know, Quinn.’

‘Listen, I’m not saying that you shouldn’t have hesitations. It only shows that you are humble and I think that is exactly the type of man Steve wanted for the shield.’

From the looks of it, Sam grows more and more uncomfortable. To redirect the conversation, he clears his throat and says: ‘Bucky isn’t gonna like this.’

Oh boy, I hadn’t even thought of that. ‘Have you spoken to him?’

He shakes his head. ‘Nah, he ignores my texts.’

I can’t stop my smile. ‘Mine too.’

‘Oh, you’ve been texting him?’ Sam asks. eyebrow cocked.

‘Sometimes,’ I say, ‘it’s just that I figured we had something in common. He just went totally AWOL after his pardoning and I have no idea what he is doing. I bet he doesn’t even wanna be found. If there is something going on, he’ll show up.’

‘Well, good thing Bucky doesn’t even know where I live,’ he says, ‘think you and I are safe for a while.’

I chuckle, looking at my beer bottle. ‘Yeah, bet you’re right.

That night, I walk into the room I always sleep in when I stay over at the Wilson’s, only to discover a shirtless Sam, in nothing else but boxers near the bed. That looks abnormally good, I think to myself, before I realize that it’s considered rude to just walk into a room like that. ‘Oh,’ I say, ‘I’m so sorry.’ I pull down the sleeping shirt, hoping it covers up my legs more.

‘No, I am,’ he says. ‘I could’ve known you would sleep here. Let me grab some blankets and I’ll take the couch.’

‘You’re taking the couch?’ I ask.

‘Yeah.’

I’ve slept on that thing and if it was uncomfortable for me, who is the size of a kid, it must be even worse for him.‘The bed is large enough,’ I say. ‘Pick a side.’

‘I don’t want to cross any line, Quinn.’

‘You won’t,’ I say. ‘Believe me, I shared sleeping spaces with people, most of which were… different than you, in the negative sense.’

‘Right,’ he says. ‘I want the right side, closer to the door.’ I watch Sam stepping in that part of the bed and slide underneath the covers and I walk around the bed, stepping in as well. We stare at the ceiling and the only thing we can hear is the breathing of one another.

I missed being in the Wilson’s residence. I missed the talks we would have, the food we would eat and the way the boys would talk. They’ve gone a long way and I sound like an old grandma, but I am so proud of them. Growing up during the blip, watching their mom work hard, that must’ve been tough, but they pulled through.

They grew up to be fine young men, who are strong, who are kind and mostly, who still know how to be kids.

But what’s different now is the presence of Sam and it’s not an unpleasant one. He obviously loves his sister and nephews and even after coming back from a rough mission, he gives them his time and attention.

Everything he has to offer.

Even if that means annoying his sister about the family boat. Sarah told me all about that dragon of a money sucker. It costs a lot and she doesn’t have time nor the money to renovate.

‘Where have you been?’ he asks.

‘When?’

‘Those five years and those months after the shield.’

I let out a sigh. ‘I have been wandering around the country after the blip, hoping to find out more about me. To no luck, I came in empty handed. After the shield, I continued wandering. Just realized I needed family. I needed Sarah.’

‘Thanks for helping her out.’

‘Oh, she didn’t need helping out,’ I say. ‘Besides, I wasn’t much of a help.’

‘I bet you were,’ Sam says with a smile. ‘You’re tired, go have some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.’

That night, I yet again have a dreamless dream. I never dream. Maybe I did, but I don’t remember. I barely remember everything. There are three major things in life that are the foundation of my life.

I hate cold weather, the person who has been playing a major role in my life is Bucky, who I haven’t spoken to for months and I have enhanced powers, but I have no idea where they are coming from.

Things in my life never made sense.

I remember when Zemo freed me, only for me to roam through the city of Münich and be caught by the team of Everett Ross. How Bucky has been a part of my life, has always been a mystery, because Bucky can only tell me he would see me back in his cell, before Hydra wiped him.

But what have I got to do with Hydra?

The next morning my eyes flutter open. I take a deep breath and lift up my head, only to realize I was resting it on Sam’s strong chest. ‘Morning,’ he says, his voice deep and it almost sounds like liquid gold.

Shit, I’m too close. ‘Good morning,’ I say, pushing myself up. ‘I am sorry.’

‘Don’t be.’

‘Sure? You feared you were overstepping, but now I am the one. How long have I been… resting like this.’

‘The second you drifted off to sleep. You’re a wild one. Think I’ve got at least a few bruises and broken ribs with that super strength of yours.’

‘Sorry,’ I chuckle. ‘I hope you’re okay.’

‘I’ll live.’ He sits up straighter and rubs his eyes.

‘How did you sleep?’ I ask.

‘Alright,’ he says. ‘It always takes a bit of getting used to when I get back here.’

‘I see.’

The door barges open, only to see Sarah. ‘There you two are,’ she says, tying up her robe she wears over her pajamas. ‘You should see the news. They are announcing the new Captain America.’

My heart stops beating for a moment and I look over my shoulder to see Sam. He gets up, puts on some clothes, while I grab some sweats. We all walk into the living room, only to see the boys already sitting in front of the screen.

‘Every day Americans feel it,’ the man on the television says. ‘While we love heroes who put their lives on the line to defend Earth, we also need a hero to defend this country. We need a real person who embodies America’s greatest values.’

I watch Sam staring at the screen, as he talks place on the couch. I carefully sit next to him, hoping he is not spooked by my presence.

He isn’t.

‘We need someone to inspire us again, someone who can be a symbol for all of us. So, on behalf of the Department of Defense and our Commander-in-Chief, it is with great honor that we announce here today that the United States of America has a new hero.’

I don’t know whether Sam is disappointed in himself for believing the shield was gonna be exhibited in the Smithsonian or in the government who betrayed him.

Either way, watching this must be awful.

‘Join me in welcoming your new Captain America.’

The new Captain America. It’s like a punch in the gut. The cheering, the waving of the generic John Walker holding a shield that isn’t his.

I place my hand on his knee and for a split second I fear he is going to swat it away.

But then I feel the warmth of his palm on my hand and he looks to the side. He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes say enough.

‘I’m sorry,’ I say.

He nods. ‘Yeah, me too, Quinn. Me too.’

[ineffable-snowman]

Partners, accidentally (a SamBucky fic)

Link to AO3

“So when is your boyfriend coming back?” Mrs. T asked him while she bagged his groceries.

Sam sighed softly. Mrs. T had always been forgetful but since the Blip she got even more things confused.

“He won’t be coming back,” Sam told her gently. “He wasn’t blipped. He just – died. Before.”

“I’m not talking about Richard. I mean the confused white one with the leather jacket, what’s his name? Richard was, what, decades ago? You can’t still be mourning for him, dear. You need to give your new relationship a chance. And he seems such a sweet guy, wouldn’t be fair to him to still be hung up on an old love.”

“Oh. You mean Steve.” Out of politeness, Sam refrained from pointing out that the name had been Riley, not Richard, and that it had been twelve years, not decades ago. “I’m afraid he isn’t coming back either. He… moved on. Found someone else.” He shrugged in a ‘what can you do’ gesture.

“Mm, his loss. But you seem to be doing pretty well yourself.” She winked at him.

“Thanks. I mean, it definitely is a challenging role but I’m getting used to it. I hope.” He chuckled. “And in case I let it get to my head, I can always come back here.”

“That you sure can.” Mrs. T added five of the toffees with the shiny candy wrapper to the bag, the sweets she used to give him when he had been a kid. “Say hello to Sarah and the kids. And tell your boyfriend just to ask for help next time if he doesn’t find an item from his shopping list – and not sneak around my shop like a thief. I can tell you, I was this close to calling Elliot for help.”

It was this description (much more accurate than such a sweet guy) that made Sam finally realise who she was talking about.

“Oh. No.” He laughed. “Bucky is not-”

“I know, I just didn’t recognise him at first. He was wearing sunglasses and black gloves – gloves in the middle of the summer, really? Seemed a bit suspicious. But then he explained who he was before I could get my baseball bat.”

Sam grinned. He would have liked to see Mrs. T chase Bucky out of her shop. Sounded like a good story he could tease Bucky with.

“I’ll make sure to tell him to act like a normal human being next time,” he said, still grinning.

***

It was only later that the implications of Mrs. T’s words fully sunk in. There was of course the implied relationship between him and Bucky, but those kind of things happened, that people mistook someone for a couple who weren’t. But apparently Bucky had “explained who he was” to Mrs. T, and Sam could not help but wonder what his exact words had been. Bucky’s tentative “partners” came to mind – shit. Had Sam accidentally turned him down by describing them as “co-workers” instead? That had definitely not been his intention. And what a shitty way to turn someone down it would be! Someone who had just bared his heart to Sam and – no. It couldn’t be. That moment with Mrs. T when Bucky had “explained who he was” must have happened later. So what exactly had he said? What exactly did he think they were? Did Bucky consider them boyfriends? You could never know with that cyborg brain of his but it would actually explain so much. How the staring had turned into smiles, all the casual touches, them spending time outside of missions…

Sam felt completely out of his depths. Was he in a relationship without knowing it? And how did he find out without making a complete fool of himself? He could just go for the trial-and-error method and kiss Bucky next time they met. If Bucky kissed him back, he would know without revealing his cluelessness. If Bucky punched him in the face, he would know, too. Sounded like a foolproof plan. It was just that Sam Wilson did not go around simply kissing people just like that.

So he asked Sarah. He was careful with his wording.

“Do you think Bucky is a good boyfriend?” Not ‘would make a good boyfriend’. Because if Sarah found out that she knew before Sam that he and Bucky were in a relationship, he would never hear the end of it.

Sarah hummed. “Why are you asking? Did something happen?”

“Just looking for…another perspective…on this.”

“Sam, you’ve never been someone who’s blinded by love. I mean, you wrote a pros and cons list when Riley asked you out. Still can’t believe he still wanted to date you after that, by the way. So what’s going on now? You want to take the next step and need more pros on your list?”

“Something like that, yeah.” Shit, she totally thought they were dating. And maybe they were. And Sam had no idea what “the next step” was in Sarah’s mind. Moving in together? Proposing?

“Use your words, Sam,” Sarah said.

It was the first useful advice. “Hey, let’s talk about this later, okay? I need to find out a few more things before I make a decision.” Because it did not matter what Mrs. T or Sarah thought the next step was. He needed to make sure he and Bucky were on the same page about this, no matter if it was about a first date or an anniversary.

are we partners?, he texted Bucky.

For the first time ever, Bucky texted him back in less than a minute.

something come up? where are you?

at sarah’s and everything’s fine. just thinking about some stuff

are you ok???

yes

Sam sighed. He had had enough with all this miscommunication. They were grown-up people, for God’s sake. Time for a direct approach.

are we partners in a professional or in a romantic sense?

Bucky did not answer for several long, long minutes. He was online, sometimes shown to be typing but never sending a reply. After four maddening minutes like this, Sam texted:

or both?

Then he panicked and did something extremely stupid: he added a grinning emoji. So much about grownup communication. Immediately, he wanted to delete his message but Bucky had already read it.

Finally, there was a reply:

both

And five grinning emojis, which did not clear up anything. They really should not discuss this via text messaging.

i’m coming to NY on friday. do you want to meet up?

are you asking me on a date? Again with the grinning emojis.

There was no way to end this conversation in a dignified manner, so Sam just texted truthfully:

not sure

***

It was too long until Friday and yet, when Friday arrived, Sam was not ready for it. He wished the utterly boring meeting with the mayor had taken longer but there really wasn’t much to discuss. So here he was, waiting nervously in front of New York City Hall if Bucky was going to stand him up.

He didn’t. Just on time, Bucky arrived on his motorbike, looking more badass than a 107 year old man had any right to look, in his black leather jacket, black jeans and sunglasses when he sauntered towards Sam.

“Hi.” He flashed Sam a grin, came towards him, lifted a hand –

Right, looked like they were dating, so they were really doing this, Sam took a deep breath, leant forward – and his nose collided painfully with Bucky’s chin.

Bucky grimaced and took off his sunglasses, which sat askew on his nose after that disastrous greeting. So no dating. Bucky had gone in for a hug, not a kiss. Sam should have brought his wings. If there ever was a time to just fly away from an awkward situation before he could make even more of an idiot of himself it was now.

But then Bucky said, “Didn’t know if I should bring you flowers,” and at these words something eased inside Sam. Whatever this weird situation was, Bucky did not seem intent on making it weirder between them, and Sam was sure they were going to be fine.

He gave Bucky a relieved grin. “I’m allergic to most flowers, so I’m really grateful you didn’t.”

“Okay, noted. So, uh.” Bucky looked at him inquisitively, a little crease appearing between his brows (and Sam’s fingers itched to wipe it away). “I wasn’t sure if AJ and Cass had hacked your phone and were messing around with me. Or with you. Both of us. But I didn’t want to blow my chance.”

Sam shrugged apologetically. “No, that was all me. Can’t blame it on the boys, unfortunately.” Then he realised what Bucky had just said, that he didn’t want to blow his chance. It gave Sam the courage to carry on. “There’s really no way to ask this without sounding weird but… Are we dating?”

“You were the one who asked me on this… date, not-date, whatever. You should know.”

“I don’t mean right now, I mean more generally, as in…are we in a relationship?”

Bucky stared at him. “There’s definitely a lot about 21st century dating, sex, relationships that confuses me but I’m pretty sure I would’ve realised if we were dating.”

“Okay, good.” Sam did not know whether to be relieved that at least they were on the same page about this, or disappointed that they were not dating after all.

“So, people have been talking?” Bucky cocked his head. He was still staring, as if he was trying to read Sam’s mind.

“Everyone in Delacroix thinks we’re a couple. Even Sarah.”

“That a problem?”

“Not exactly. Would’ve just been weird to be in a relationship and be the last one to find out about it, you know?”

Bucky snorted. “If it’s any consolation, it’s news to me, too.” He considered Sam for a moment, never once blinking. “Doesn’t mean I’m opposed to it.”

Huh. Sam did not know what to make of this nonchalant and yet so monumental comment. “Uh. Let’s walk a bit?” He needed time to digest this information. And also he preferred to not discuss his relationship status in front of New York City Hall.

Bucky nodded and so they strolled through the adjoining park. It was easier to talk like this than when Bucky was standing in front of him and staring him down.

“You know, I wouldn’t mind it either,” Sam finally said because it felt like it was his turn to assure Bucky that the feeling was mutual.

“Ah. Alright.” Bucky was silent for some time but then he said, “People will think what they think. Might as well go along with it.”

“At this point just going along with it is probably easier than trying to explain to them that we’re not dating.” Sam chanced a sideways glance at Bucky, caught his eye and found him grinning.

“Yup. I mean, if even your sister is convinced, she’s probably right.”

“So we’re doing this.”

“Fine with me.”

“Great.”

They exchanged another glance, both grinning. They might walk a little faster, with a spring in their step, but nothing else had changed.

“Just one thing,” Sam said. “If anyone asks us when and how we got together, we’re not going to tell them it happened like this. Because that’s just too embarrassing. I’m Captain America, I can’t have that.”

“You mean we need a cover-up story?”

“An anniversary.”

Bucky was still grinning but then he got that manic look in his eyes that told Sam that he was about to do something very risky and very stupid.

“How about when you saved me from that truck in Germany?”

Sam stopped dead. “No way. Please don’t tell me that got you hot. Seriously, Buck.”

“Nah.” Bucky shrugged. “Not in that situation anyway, that was just adrenaline and it was mostly painful, the way your knee kept hitting me everywhere. But, you know. Thinking back on it. Or imagining it happening again…”

“Jesus.” Sam made a mental note to educate Bucky on the safe, sane and consensual part of sex, emphasis on safe and sane. “Just for your information, if you get yourself under a truck on purpose, I won’t save you again.” Because it had been uncomfortable and not to mention potentially life-threatening. Still. There was something to be said about imagining it. Sam swooping in to gracefully save Bucky from a dangerous situation, them being pressed so close to each other, Bucky telling him in a low and breathless voice, “Nice job, Cap,” and then something about wanting to thank him –

“No, that’s definitely not when we started dating,” Sam insisted, heat creeping up his neck. “I can’t remember a day when you were more annoying and that’s counting the day when you jumped onto my car and ripped my steering wheel out.”

“Then what’s your suggestion for our anniversary? I need to know so I can buy you plastic flowers.”

Sam could not help but laugh. What a dork. Now he knew Bucky was going to buy him the most hideous plastic flowers ever. “When you came to Louisiana to help fix the boat. That one at least makes sense.”

“I don’t know. There were some witnesses who saw me passed out on Sarah’s couch. Not much happening that night for me.”

“The next morning then. When you came to the boat and…” Sam remembered it all too clearly. The early morning light, their hushed voices, every word seemingly too much in that small, quiet place. “I wanted to kiss you then,” he admitted. Everything about Bucky had been so soft that morning, his hair, his eyes, his shirt, his words. Now Sam’s heart was hammering so loudly in his chest that he wondered if Bucky could hear it with his supersoldier senses.

“I would have liked that,” Bucky said softly. Gone was the grin. Bucky was giving him such an open, earnest look that made Sam’s heart speed up even more but at the same time, it calmed him down.

All he managed in response was “good” and a (probably giddy) smile.

“Why didn’t you do it?” Bucky asked.

“Wasn’t sure if you’d got your head out of your ass yet.” Or if it was reciprocated.

One corner of Bucky’s mouth quirked up in self-deprecation. “Fair enough.”

“Yeah. But…”

“No witnesses there who could refute that we hooked up on that boat.”

“We totally hooked up there.”

“And it was, uh… great?”

“Definitely was.”

Again they were stupidly grinning at each other and Sam was amazed how much he liked the crinkles around Bucky’s eyes when he did that.

“If someone asks for details…” Sam could hardly believe his own nerve because this was not something Sam Wilson did but somehow – contrary to first (and second) impressions – everything was easy with Bucky. “Well. I should know what to say.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Or you could just not say anything? God, that’s really not something that other people need to know, it’s personal, what is wrong with people, what happened to don’t kiss and tell?”

“So you’re going to be old school about it?” As long as it did not involve plastic flowers, Sam would be able to put up with it. He had experience with centenarian supersoldiers after all.

“Well, I am old. But other than that, it’s just decent human behaviour. Still can’t believe you asked me out via text messaging, by the way.”

Bucky was scowling, and because Sam could do it now, he placed his thumb against the crease between Bucky’s brows and tried to smooth it out. Bucky lightly swatted his hand away and rolled his eyes again.

“What would you have preferred?” Sam said. “A seaside rendezvous with a picnic? A candlelight dinner?”

Bucky’s frown only deepened and Sam could practically hear the cyborg gears start to turn and rattle. “Did you just say we should have sex?”

So he had figured it out, finally. “Your place isn’t far, is it?”

“I don’t even have a bed. And no, it’s bad enough that you think flirting via text messages is okay but when I make love to you for the first time, it’s not gonna be on the floor, that’s for sure.”

Sam did not know what to say to that. His chest had constricted at Bucky’s word and he really wanted to kiss that frown away but they should probably first discuss how comfortable they were with public displays of affection. In a direct and open way. Because no matter how much Sam enjoyed making fun of Bucky, it was not fair to leave Bucky always guessing and confused when it came to their relationship.

“Right.” Sam cleared his throat because that word had come out a bit croaked. “Not sure how you feel about it and it’s totally fine if you want to do it differently but you’re a supersoldier, so.” Sam raised his eyebrows. “Doing it standing up, against a wall – shouldn’t be a problem for you, right?”

Bucky shrugged. “I’ve just never.” He gestured vaguely and Sam silently waited for him to finish his sentence, trying to broadcast that he would accept whatever was going to come next. Never had sex? Never had sex with a man?

“I mean,” Bucky finally said, waving his hands some more but he kept looking at Sam, not trying to hide any of his vulnerability, and Sam once more thought how brave that man was. “I’ve never had sex in this body, only before. I don’t know, anything could happen.”

Sam nodded to show it was alright. “You know what? Let’s buy a bed first.” He tried to give Bucky a reassuring smile. “And then we can still decide if we want to find out what could happen.”

“Can I at least buy you dinner first?”

Sam’s heart was doing funny things again. “Sure. Any plans?”

“Do you know Sushi?”

Sam snorted. “Risky move. I’m a Wilson, I have opinions on seafood.” (Who was he kidding, he would let Bucky drag him to the cheapest sushi chain and stuff his face with half defrosted mock crab.)

“You’re really going to make me work for it, aren’t you?”

The comment was light-hearted enough and anyway, they had already established that it was Bucky, not Sam who insisted on dinner first. So they easily fell back into their usual back and forth. “I’m not letting you get away with that whole I’m a confused old man, that’s for sure,” Sam said.

Bucky shrugged, an easy smirk playing around his lips. “Come on.” They started walking again, maybe a little closer than usually so their arms bumped together all the time. They didn’t necessarily need to hold hands here in New York but back in Delacroix where everyone was already under the impression that they were a couple…

“Hey, Buck?” Sam nudged him lightly. “It’s gonna be fine.”