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scoonsalicious · 7 months ago

Note

MANIFESTING BUCKETS REAPPEARANCE MANIFESTING BUCKETS REAPPEARANCE MANIFESTING BUCKETS REAPPEARANCE MANIFESTING BUCKETS REAPPEARANCE MANIFESTING BUCKETS REAPPEARANCE MANIFESTING BUCKETS REAPPEARANCE MANIFESTING BUCKETS REAPPEARANCE MANIFESTING BUCKETS REAPPEARANCE MANIFESTING BUCKETS REAPPEARANCE MANIFESTING BUCKETS REAPPEARANCE

OUR SEXY MACHO swaggering into Pocket’s spiral ❤️

Mother Pookie, thou has fed thy meowies (us) sum more great cakes🤌🏻😂 ONCE AGAIN, thou has bamboozled me with thou’s writing🩷

Tis was me reaction😂

Poor poor Chloe. She was too young and if I were Pocket, I too would blame myself. Pocket is devastated af. It would lessen the guilt (a teeny tiny bit) if she didn’t know Chloe. To make it worse, she was in the SAME ROOM with Chloe. Even if I were to say that she shouldn’t blame herself (bcs well, she was seriously not in this world at that moment), the consequences are too big for her NOT to. Regardless of what, THAT was her mission. Her responsibility. It’s not a lie when I say, she’s reckless. That recklessness intensifies when she didn’t get what she wanted (her crave for Buckaroo) and now, with an extra guilt, she’ll keep on digging down to her grave. (Basically Pocket is in denial with her feelings because she miss Buckdoodle OH MY😭 but can’t bcs she shouldn’t trust him)

BUT DARE I SAY SHE NEEDS BUCKWHEAT ASAP.

Rather than making her spiral more (ohhh but she’s still going to be mad ofc initially), Bucket reappearance will be like a slap to her head😂 Something that makes her conscious bcs i feel like she’s going to hate it if Buckball saw her at her bottom (on her lowest self). And that feeling will then formed into a new one (as mother Pookie state our Pocket will seduce Buckdweeb for ‘old time sake’). It become a conquest for Pocket to once again deny her feelings but with a clearer head by trying to have a one last bite of her favourite meal (and that favourite meal is BUCKET) or yknow, she’s doing it to torture him…

THANK GOD NOTHING HAPPENED TO SAM😭 And I hope nothing serious w AJ. Dark chocolate, you will be missed but mother pookie needs to make Buckdoodle and Pocket kiss.

Now, what’s left is the revelation, Pocket and cunthage one last confrontation, and HOPEFULLY a Buckaroo and Jeremiah showdown (more fun if the whole team whopping up her ass).

So I still don’t have a clear theory of Buckwheat fucking cuntsy twice. Pookie said, first one didn’t count bcs Lil Buck didn’t wanna come out and play. He wasn’t SA, or sexed pollen. One concrete theory before was him being boned at the field (bcs our Bucky gets hard when fighting). Manipulative Jerome may touch him during it (like after the fight) and well, Lil Bucky didn’t wanna play bcs he’s injured but was too hard/painful to move, so as usual, Jeremiah took the opportunity and shove her hole there (sorry for the crassness).

THE SECOND TIME it happened, was because of the false news (Steve and Pocket) and him being guilty from the first time. And yup, this time Lil Bucky has the balls bcs well, he’s mad at Pocket and at the same time was just using Cunthage like Pocket fucking other dudes right now. (If Pocket aren’t satisfy with other man, surelyyyyyy Buckwheat too. No one is as tight as hers — again sorry😂)

Appreciate our sexy macho❤️(those pecs rawr)

BUTT, I do have a question, is the stomach bug issue solved yet? Is it a part of the revelation? Or I ACTUALLY missed smth. That is a mystery to me.😂

Anyways, I feel like that’s all the discussion and thoughts im going for today. My battery now is 10%, and it’s almost noon here. (I’ve been writing this since my battery was at 20+ish😂). My brain is still sleepy though, so that’s all I can think of for today.

As usual, Mother Pookie, thy meowies love thee🩷🩷🩷 I absolutely enjoy the thrill and brain wrecking thinking after reading Unwanted. It’s fun to read others comment/theories, cursing Jeremiah and Buckwheat, forming an anti-Steve group. It has been such a ride, can’t believe we’re almost at the end. Looking forward to do this again for With Friends Like These. Here’s your kitten SMOOCHH~

Wink wink. Btw did I tell you that I can’t wait for Bucket? Yeah, I need to say it again.

MANIFESTING BUCKETS REAPPEARANCE!!!

Goofy ass Buckwheat~

BUCKET MANIFESTATION IS COMING AT 5PM EST! BUCKET MANIFESTATION IS COMING AT 5PM EST! BUCKET MANIFESTATION IS COMING AT 5PM EST! BUCKET MANIFESTATION IS COMING AT 5PM EST! BUCKET MANIFESTATION IS COMING AT 5PM EST!

That is approximately 23 minutes! That gives me (I hope!) enough time to respond to this GLORIOUS missive and upload, lol.

And GOD. If Bucky macho-swaggered into my life like in that first gif? My PTSD would be cured! My sinuses would unclog! My mortgage would be paid, because DAY-UM.

Fortunately, Pocket's spiral is about to come to an end! We have one more issue to deal with (and it's an issue you've all been questioning for a long, long time now), but Bucket will appear at just the right time to keep her from continuing on this path of self-destruction. Boy's been spending the last two months in therapy while Our Girl's been away, so he'll drop some nuggets that will help her out. He will, literally, shake some sense into her.

I want to tell you so much more, but I think it's better if I show you, so look for the first of tonight's drops coming up in just a fee minutes! Pookie loves you so much!!!!

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the-invisible-queer · 7 months ago

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Sooooo for the anon who asked (and for you of course, if you're interested), I've compiled a lazy timeline of Joe's relationship history - just things I remembered off-hand, no researching or fact-checking or anything. I'm truly sorry for how fucking long it is lmao, tbh you may want to copy and paste it into a text post so you can put a Read More bc holy shit why has this man had so many relationships and WHY DID I REMEMBER SO MUCH OF IT WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME. As a disclaimer my level of JB obsession has varied a lot over the years, so some of these relationships I know a lot more about than others just based on how closely I was following Joe at the time, and again I didn't research literally anything here so it's possible some of it may be misremembered. Okay here we go:

Mandy, who the OG song Mandy was written about, was the first Joe romantic interest fans ever knew about. I don’t remember anymore if they were actually even together at all or if he just like had a crush on her or something, but he was definitely into her to some degree when he was very young.

He dated AJ Michalka from Aly and AJ for some unknown length of time when they were like 15-16. He eventually revealed that she was his first kiss, she miiiiight have said he was hers too but I also could have imagined that. For a long time it was rumored that Potential Breakup Song was about him, but years and years later while answering fan questions on Twitter AJ finally said it wasn’t, but a different breakup song called Flattery was. (First known appearance of Joe Jonas: Serial Muse Extraordinaire. It would take two more strikes for him to finally seemingly learn that he should probably stop dating and dumping songwriters.)

For a hot minute he was rumored to be dating Miley’s friend/backup dancer Mandy (of The Miley and Mandy Show fame) during the Best of Both Worlds Tour, but I genuinely to this day don’t know if that was true or not lol. I remember a couple vaguely 👀 pictures existing of the two of them but they also both seemed to just be physically affectionate people in general, so they truly could have just been friends.

Joe met Taylor Swift in 2008 and, as teenagers sometimes do, they had what seemed to be a brief but intense relationship that then exploded into a dramatic mess. He famously broke up with her via a 27-second phone call, she famously exposed this on the Ellen show, and then they both spent the next couple years just publicly whacking each other at random opportunities before the bad blood (no pun intended) between them seemed to dry up and they gradually became friends, especially once Joe started dating Gigi Hadid who was already close friends with Taylor. A lot of bangers came out of this relationship and breakup on Taylor’s end – I can’t pretend that songs like Jump Then Fall and Last Kiss weren’t integral to my young Joe girl fantasies about the kind of boyfriend he was, really appreciated that very descriptive imagery – but IIRC the only JB song specifically known to be about her was Much Better. The Jaylor arc eventually wrapped up with both of them saying it was silly teen drama they laugh about now and each making gestures of amends (him changing the live lyrics of Much Better to acknowledge that they’re cool with each other, her saying she regretted putting him on blast on Ellen and should have handled it differently) and she sent him and Sophie a baby present before Willa was born. ALSO: one of my favorite bits of hilariously random Joe lore ever is that in 2015 he went to one of Taylor’s concerts and hung out with her brother, who at one point very literally had Joe’s tiny ass sitting on his shoulders while they vibed to the music. Like…okay then lmfao.

Next was Camilla Belle, who he met when she starred in the Lovebug music video. I’d be remiss not to acknowledge that the public Taylor/Camilla timeline was a bit messy and it’s not entirely clear to this day if there was any overlap or if he fully dumped Taylor before pursuing the new object of his interests, but either way it was pretty clear at the time that he didn’t really behave wonderfully there. Maybe watching Nick start living out his own fuckboy love triangle era around this time inspired him. Regardless, he and Camilla were together for I want to say several months at least before he seemed to get his heart broken pretty badly. I was kind of getting less involved in Jonas fandom by then due to some new fixation I was having instead so I don’t really remember what happened between them, if we ever even knew to begin with, but I do remember him seeming pretty torn up over her for a hot minute there. The one other bit of Camilla lore I remember was that there was apparently some drama at the beginning because Joe and Nick both liked her, which in hindsight is extremely ?????????? all around bc 1) Nick was like 16 and I'm pretty sure Camilla was like 22, he absolutely should not have even been in that conversation at all, 2) Joe probably shouldn't have been in the conversation at all either considering he literally already had a girlfriend at the time and 3) genuinely the very last thing Nick should have been doing in 2008 was trying to pick up a THIRD girl as if his plate wasn't more than full enough already? Was his little ass trying to build a harem??? ANYWAY.

I think Demi was next after Camilla, but again I was falling out of keeping close track of the Jonaii during this time so this is where things start getting pretty fuzzy. I want to say they got together at some point during the filming of Camp Rock 2, or maybe during the press tour for it? and their relationship was fairly highly-publicized, including a professional joint photoshoot and interview they did for some magazine which awkwardly released like right after they broke up lol. While Demi’s feelings seem to have been fully genuine, Joe revealed (or at least implied, I honestly never read what he said about this firsthand lol I just heard about it a lot) at some point years later that he’d felt pressured into dating her by Disney/his team for publicity reasons. I withhold judgment on that aspect since this was obviously a super fucked up situation neither of those very young people should have ever been put in by their employers in the first place, but regardless he clearly went on to hurt her in some way bc she wrote a lot of heartbroken songs about him (including some she co-wrote with Nick, which he’s said was very awkward for him lmao). The song Sorry from Fastlife – not to be confused with Sorry from ALBL, which was about Miley – is commonly thought to be about Demi, though idk if that was ever officially confirmed or not. They clearly worked things out at some point though, because for several years in the 2010s they seemed to be fairly close friends…until they weren’t anymore. It’s still not clear if something happened between them specifically or if Joe sided with his brother in whatever fallout destroyed her friendship with Nick or what, but for a while Demi appeared to be on pretty bad terms with all the brothers. Nowadays she and Joe seem to be okay with each other – they hung out at her Halloween party a few years ago and seemingly had a good time together, and I think they sometimes like each other’s IG posts and such – but alas, the glory days of their friendship seem to be over for good.

At some point somewhere in all of this Joe dated Brenda Song for like three weeks or something??? We know almost nothing about this fling except that it happened. I constantly manage to forget about this and every single time I remember I’m just as surprised as I was the first time I learned it.

I wasn’t paying much attention at all when Ashley Greene showed up in Joe’s life so I genuinely don’t remember when that happened – I feel like it could potentially have been anywhere from late-ish 2009 to early-ish 2011 – or how long they lasted. I do remember that he always seemed happy with her and from what little I saw of them I thought they looked more serious than any of his past relationships had. She apparently inspired most of Fastlife. At some point they broke up, which as far as I know wasn’t dramatic (at least not publicly) but again, I was barely keeping up with Joe at the time. Years later, he revealed in a Reddit AMA that he lost his virginity to her.

I vaguely recall him going on like one or two dates with various random women in the early 2010s, none of whom seemed to stick for very long before being replaced with another. The only somewhat notable one of these women was model Natashia Ho; we’ll come back to that in a minute.

At some point in 2012 he started dating artist Blanda Eggenschwiler, who would become his longest and most serious relationship until Sophie. They seemed very happy together and posted each other on IG a lot. At some point he got a tattoo inspired by one of her paintings, which he still has and presumably has no plans to ever remove or cover up. In early 2013 there was a wild and hysterical rumor about a sex tape of the two of them that allegedly involved, among other things, Joe getting paddled with a ball gag in his mouth – during the initial hilarious drama of this rumor dropping Natashia Ho, previously all but forgotten about by fans, tweeted “Yea sounds about right” and then deleted it shortly after which was…honestly probably still the funniest thing any Jonas ex has ever done tbh. An icon. ANYWAY: My most vivid memory from this relationship is that during the big drama of the band breaking up (though at the time we didn’t know yet that was what was going on, just that the tour that had been about to start got cancelled super suddenly and everyone was being weird and vague about why and Joe and Kevin seemed upset), we got several days of sad or anxious-looking Joe candids in a row, and then the first time we saw him smiling again after everything exploded was when Blanda was with him ❤️ Most of the fandom liked Blanda a lot and and we quietly suspected for a while there that she was the woman he was going to marry (he may have also thought this himself at one time), but alas, they shocked us all by announcing their breakup in I believe August of 2014. As far as I remember there was never any post-breakup drama or anything between them and she just kind of faded away from fandom consciousness, except for one incident I remember from a few months after the breakup where she posted like a half-finished drawing of a face that looked suspiciously similar to Joe’s on her IG, leading to a lot of speculation and debate among fans about if it was supposed to be him or not and what, if anything, it meant if it was. (The answer apparently was that it meant nothing, because they didn’t get back together or anything, although I’m not sure if that’s even what we were expecting anyway. In hindsight that whole situation was just kinda dumb and pointless lmao but it kept us entertained for days regardless.)

Joe and Gigi Hadid started dating in I want to say early 2015. I was barely paying attention at this point and genuinely have no recollection at all of how long this relationship lasted – I feel like it was pretty short-lived but idk – but it went on at least long enough for her to direct the Cake By The Ocean music video, so there’s that I guess. Gigi got back with her ex Zayn very shortly after they broke up and Joe apparently made some kind of comment (again, I never read it just heard about it) implying that he was somewhat bitter about this. When asked at some point not super long after their breakup to play Fuck/Marry/Kill with three of his famous exes, he said he would kill Gigi (and marry Demi and fuck Taylor, if anyone's curious). If there was any further Joegi lore after that, I either never knew it or don’t remember it.

Joe and Sophie started talking in DMs and then hanging out in person at some unspecified point in 2016, but weren’t publicly spotted together until late in the year – IIRC they were first seen together in group pics from some random Halloween party, but no one really seemed to put two and two together until a few days later when they were caught fully making out at a Kings of Leon concert lol. They got engaged roughly a year later in October 2017, got Vegas-married in May 2019 and then married-married in France in June 2019, and welcomed two baby girls in July 2020 and July 2022 respectively. I’m choosing to stop here bc you said you know the most recent stuff and I don’t want to make myself sad lol 🙃

OKAY WELL that was long as hell and made me feel lowkey pathetic for knowing all this lmao but hopefully it satisfied your thirst for tea, anon. Now to start working on Nick's timeline... 🫡

HOLY SHIT BESTIE

I'm on mobile so I can't actually copy and paste that whole thing so y'all gonna have to deal with it

Rest in RIP to everyone's dashes

And the fact that I did know all of these and just forgot about a few but didn't know timeliness specifically

I guess I did have Joe's dating timeline in my head at some point which is on brand because I've never actually been normal about him

Did he or did he not date Chelsea Kane (Stella on Jonas) because I saw some online speculation about it because they were hanging out a lot - fully can respect them being friends just wanna point out their onscreen chemistry was incredible so I wouldn't be surprised if it flowed into their personal life

Thank you for this run down

If anyone questions me calling Joe a whore ever again I'm gonna send them this post

#long post #long text post #text post

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regalrain · 2 years ago

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Ego Poll Results + Links

Best Ego Couple:

Winner- Bim Trimmer (D) x Googleplier (R) with 45.8%.

Tied for last in this vote with 0 votes- Dr.Iplier (D) x Yancy (R), Illinois (D) x Ivyplier (R), Bingiplier (D) x Artiplier (R).

Best Ego Best-friends:

Winner- Darkiplier (D) and Googleplier (R) with 38.5%.

Tied for last in this vote with 0 votes- Bim Trimmer (D) and Yancy (R), Bim Trimmer (D) and Artiplier (R), Yancy (D) and Ivyplier (R).

Which 'OC' Ego would you like to hear most about?:

Winner- Mori, aka Annus, with 55.6%.

Last place- Slime, aka Slimeiplier, with 5.6%.

Joke Ego Ships:

Winner- The Jims CJ and Rj (D) x Their Camera and Microphone respectively with 23.3%.

Last place- Googleplier (R) x Tiny Windshield Wiper in his mouth with 1.7%.

Horrible Ego Ships:

Winner- The Actor x Anyone with 25%.

Last place- Eric Derekson (D) x Yancy (R) with 1.8%.

Best Ego Polyamorousship:

Winner- Mechanical Hearts (Bim x All the Google’s) with 24.3%.

Last place- Sweet Exploration (Ivyiplier, Eric Derekson, Illinois) with 0%.

Which Ego is the Most Powerful?:

Winner- Darkiplier with 43.6%.

Last place- Silver Shepherd with 0%.

Hottest Ego:

Winner- Darkiplier (Rose) with 31.7%.

Last place- Ivyplier (Ivy/Paris) with 0%.

Which Ego Secretly has the Softest Heart?:

Winner- Yancy (Yance) with 36.7%.

Last place- Ivyplier (Ivy/Paris) with 0%.

Which Ego has been Ruined the Most by the Fandom?:

Winner- Darkiplier with 45.4%.

Tied for last in this vote with 2.1%- Illinois, Bingiplier.

Which Ego would make the Best Older Sibling?:

Winner- Yancy with 28.8%.

Tied for last in this vote with 0 votes- The Necromancer, Ivyplier.

Random Ego Fusions! Who’s the coolest for pairings?:

Winner- Illinois and Yancy with 25%.

Last place- Illinois and Googleplier with 0%.

Best pet name/nickname Google has called Bim?:

Winner- Bimothy (His name is not Bimothy) with 51.5%.

Tied for last in this vote with 0 votes- Troublemaker, Ostentatious, Owner (sarcastic).

Does Anyone want to join in on making Ego Au’s or an Ego Multiverse?:

Winner- Yes with 77.8%. However no one has reached out.

Tied for last place with 11.1%- No, Other/Write-in. However no one has written-in.

Most Kissable Ego?:

Winner- Yancy with 28%.

Last place- Silver Shepherd with 0%.

What is Wilford's best persona name besides Wilford 'Motherloving' Warfstache?:

Winner- Wingleheimer with 48.3%.

Last place- Wrathy Jon with 3.3%.

Who is the most Chaotic Ego?:

Winner- The Jims with 56.9%.

Tied for last in this vote with 0 votes- Yancy, Captain Magnum.

Suggestive under the cut poll

What Ego has the best Tiddies?:

Winner- Annus (Mori) with 36.8%.

Close Second place- Illinois (Illi) with 31.6%.

Tied for last in this vote with 0 votes- Ivyplier (Paris), Artiplier (Emil), The Necromancer (Milo), Weatherman Jim (MJ), Anchorman Jim (AJ).

What Ego has the Smallest Ass?:

Winner- Eric Derekson with 23.5%.

Last place- Illinois with 0%.

Smallest Ego Ass part 2:

Winner- Actor prior to bodynapping with 33.3%.

Last place- Murdoch with 0%.

#markiplier egos #markiplier

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thebaepatricia · 1 year ago

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Book Review: Yours Truly by Abby Jimenez 🩺 💌 ✍🏻

Yours Truly by Abby Jimenez ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ (4/5)

A novel of terrible first impressions, hilarious second chances, and the joy in finding your perfect match.

Dr. Briana Ortiz’s life is seriously flatlining. Her divorce is just about finalized, her brother’s running out of time to find a kidney donor, and that promotion she wants? Oh, that’s probably going to the new man-doctor who’s already registering eighty-friggin’-seven on Briana’s “pain in my ass” scale. But just when all systems are set to hate, Dr. Jacob Maddox completely flips the game . . . by sending Briana a letter.

And it’s a really good letter. Like the kind that proves that Jacob isn’t actually Satan. Worse, he might be this fantastically funny and subversively likable guy who’s terrible at first impressions. Because suddenly he and Bri are exchanging letters, sharing lunch dates in her “sob closet,” and discussing the merits of freakishly tiny horses. But when Jacob decides to give Briana the best gift imaginable—a kidney for her brother—she wonders just how she can resist this quietly sexy new doctor... especially when he calls in a favor she can’t refuse.

__________

The first chapter was an instant hook. I love it when an author has that *magic*. I appreciate the fact that this time, it’s the woman who’s the grumpy one and the man has a sunshine/calm vibe. Also, I love how detailed Abby went into portraying how anxiety works through Maddox. For someone reading it for pleasure, it may be all fillers. But to me who does have anxiety on a daily basis, I feel SEEN.

I enjoyed the dual POV and loved AJ’s writing style, above all else. I do wonder what Abby’s writing process is when switching character chapters. Does she have “Jacob” and “Brianna” modes separately? Because the individual voices are spot on. I feel a strong Brianna vibe in her chapters, and Jacob’s warmth and softness in his.

I love Jacob’s family dynamic! 😂 it’s hilarious, witty, and comical, but also close to reality — it has strong Modern Family vibes if you've ever seen that show. Speaking of Jacob, we love a guy who believes in and goes to therapy. 🩹🫂🫱🏻‍🫲🏽 I wish Jacob Maddox was real. 🥺🥺🥺

Admittedly, I'm not a big fan of contemporary romance nowadays. I tend to think that once you've read one, you've read them all. But Yours Truly had me giggling, laughing-snorting, and smiling. It kept me company at night while buried under blankets and with my hair up in a lazy bun. This novel was giving me strong contemporary "When Harry Met Sally vibes," which is one of my core-memory films. I LOVE IT.

I started this book not knowing much about it. But soon I realized that I seem to gravitate towards books with characters with (unpleasant) traits that I have. Those traits are not even disclosed anywhere in the synopsis, which makes it even more mind-blowing. Each time, it was like a sign from the Universe telling me to stop limiting myself to these traits.

❗️ IMPORTANT: Read the Author’s Note. It's essential.

“Don’t put all your eggs in a man’s basket.” “Jessica was right. He’s an excellent human being."

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glassprowlers · 6 years ago

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Headcanon time: I think a lot about Ton Phanan's parents. So, we learn in Iron Fist that his parents had him late in life. Phanan is also from Rudrig, which Wookieepedia mentions was renowned for the quality of its university. I like to think that his parents worked for the university in some capacity. If one or both of his parents were academics, that might explain their decision to wait to have children. Like, it might be sensible to delay having kids when you're trying to get your space PhD or chasing that tenure track job.

Considering Phanan's interest in insects (hello, Storini Glass Prowlers!), perhaps one of his parents was a professor of entomology. Just imagine tiny Ton being surrounded by lots of textbooks and academic journals about bugs! After he got into them one too many times, his parents likely would have bought him some age appropriate books to foster his intellectual curiosity. Maybe this would have led to some basic insect collecting equipment: butterfly nets, observation cages, kill jars, etc.

This sort of background would mesh well with what we see of Phanan in the books. He's easily able to care for the Glass Prowlers, and it seems that he gets a lot of pleasure out of doing so. Even though he's become fairly cynical by the time the books' events occur, he still gets excited about creepy little crawlers. Ties to his parents and happy childhood memories might explain this surviving enthusiasm.

After all, cuteness should be preserved, right? ;)

#ton phanan #wraith squadron #sw tag #aj talks #headcanon #mine #idk what his other parent would be up to #i haven't thought about it enough but I will at some point lmao #maybe they're a professor in another discipline? Or perhaps a university administrator?#also if the family was wealthy where did the money come from?#was it inherited or did ton's parents earn it themselves??#maybe the entomology professor wrote a series of bestselling pop science books about bugs? I like that idea #also wookieepedia says Rudrig has PURPLE GRASS so imagine tiny Ton playing with bugs while there is some purple grass all around okay #i should get up off my ass and write that fic someday #also this boy is such a dumbass? Like hey asshole!! Don't steal those scary bugs okay??#my brain is continuing to chant backstory! backstory! backstory! but I need to go to sleep lmao

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philtstone · 2 years ago

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at last: part two

Summary: It’s lined paper, torn out of a notebook, maybe even one of AJ’s for school. Scrawled over the top in Bucky’s familiar block-letter handwriting it reads:

DR N EXERCISE (WRITE TO HELP WITH WORDS – SORT OF???)

WHAT I WOULD TELL QUEEN RAMONDA & FAMILY ABOUT SARAH

Or, Bucky finally proposes. Well -- he's planning on it, anyway. Good thing Sarah's occupied with other things.

The long and short of it is, Sarah gets migraines now.

That’s what the doctor says. The hard facts are that first off, she has lived a very stress filled life. Second she is nearing fifty; women’s hormones are silly things. Third, well, sometimes bodies and personalities don’t quite get along.

Sarah, says Dr. Jean. She has been their family doctor since Sarah was thirteen. She showed Sarah how condoms worked. She drove AJ to the hospital once when he had stomach flu and Sarah was in New Orleans chasing after a business license, and otherwise barely holding it together. Sarah, honey, you know you been getting headaches for a while now. This ain’t news.

Sarah has spent the last five minutes pursing her lips hard at the child’s finger painting decorating Dr. Jean’s office and crossing and uncrossing her arms. Headaches are fine and well, everyone gets ‘em. This is different. This means she sometimes won’t be able to take care of herself.

“Yes,” Dr. Jean says wryly. “Good thing you got that man of yours around. I imagine you don’t just keep him for his looks.”

Dr. Jean is sixty and allowed to say things like that. Sarah grumbles the whole way home from the doctor’s office anyway.

At home, the house is empty. Her appointment was scheduled for her day off, which doesn’t overlap with Bucky’s; he’s at work, probably bored out of his mind from the paperwork for the new charter boat – it’s two counties over and they will have to drive out to get it – but also having the time of his life teasing the new dock hires with Carlos. They have one of them convinced that super serum has you growing too much hair in weird places, and if you’re not careful it can become a medical condition.

Poor Isaac. Not too sharp, Sarah thinks, but he’s good with his hands and knows how a boat works. Anyway, between Carlos and Bucky the old man seniority cards are unfairly stacked; any moderately respectful kid’s at risk of being gullible.

It isn’t that she begrudges Bucky his silliness – God knows he’s earned it – but just now she is in a bad and self-pitying mood, so the thought of him does not make her smile as it usually would. Cass and AJ are at school and she has the whole house to herself. Her plan was to get some cleaning done. Instead, Sarah pours herself a glass of wine, plants herself at the kitchen table, paints half the toenails on her left foot and has a small, angry cry.

She has given up on the task and is mopping the living room when Sheira calls.

“Well just come on out tonight, then. We can take Mylene with us and have a few drinks.”

“Sheira, forreal, I got work tomorrow.”

“I didn’t say get drunk. Anyway, you know those businesses of yours are thriving. Honey, forreal, you got a secretary now. I called the other day and some guy picked up on your behalf. That means you got it figured.”

Sarah makes a face. “Yeah, Mo’s a’ight.”

“B convinced you to hire one, didn’t he. Good for him, I don’t think another damn soul could’ve managed.”

Sarah’s already feeling some clingy way about her independence, so Sheira’s insightfulness begets a very grown-up pout.

“I was gonna distribute the load!” Sarah protests.

“Sarah, since Big C died, you have distributed the load only once, in a moment of desperation, when your big brother brought that darling white man home. Otherwise, you remain the most stubbornly independent woman I have ever known, may the good Lord and Baby Jesus and half this tiny ass town stand witness.”

Sarah, done mopping, stows the Swiffer and leaves the floor to dry. She collects her nail polish and her wine and stomps upstairs, tidying as she goes. She says, “Babies can’t stand, Sheira.”

“Oh my God –”

Eventually, they do get around to the issue at hand.

Read more on Ao3

Chapter 1

"i found a dream” series

#my writing #yo this MANIFESTED into my brain at like 12 noon today. the plan was not to write this chapter at all but here we are and im emo about it #i wont lie #sarah wilson #bucky barnes #sarahbucky #sarah x bucky #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws #marvel #i found a dream #sam x bucky

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paperpocalypse · 4 years ago

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significance.

50 Cliché Tropes and Prompts: 26. Cuddling in comfortable silence before murmuring “I love you” + 47. “I’ve been in love with you for years”

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4,118 words

Warning: Swearing, violence

His head feels like it’s been split open, the rest of his body feels like one giant bruise and the Handler’s daughter has her fancy leather boot on his fucking throat.

Five couldn’t be less surprised by his luck.

“Doesn’t feel so good, does it?”

He forces in just enough breath to answer her. “Eat shit and die …!”

The reaction is worth it. Lila lets out a furious cry, gritting her teeth and bringing her foot down even harder – and in doing so, changes her center of gravity. Opportunity. Five digs his nails into that damned shoe and pushes upwards. The sudden force sends her flying, and he can breathe again.

Fighting the ache in his bones, Five stumbles to his feet as she does the same. “Come on,” he pants, readying his stance as the woman turns to face him again. “What are you waiting for? Let’s finish this thing.”

She shakes her head. “No,” she whispers, sniffling. “This isn’t gonna be quick. You are going to suffer for what you did.”

Suffer? For Christ’s sake – Five scoffs and drops his hands. “Lady, I got no idea what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Ronnie and Anita Gill.”

“Mean nothing to me.”

“1993, East London.” Lila continues to stare at him like he knows what the hell she’s talking about. “You hog-tied them and you shot them in the head.”

Five narrows his eyes; it’s very possible that she’s just bullshitting him. But despite the rationality of just ignoring her and going for the kill, he searches his memories anyway. 1993, East London. Hog-tied. Tables overturned, the pleas of a couple inside a tiny flat in the middle of the night. Yes, wait – he does remember. 1993, toys strewn everywhere – he told you to close your eyes but you didn’t – East London, two quick shots –

“We had no choice.”

“I know. But …”

“The flower merchants,” he murmurs. Five looks at her with wide eyes. “They were your parents …!”

“And they never did anything to anyone. They didn’t deserve to die like that.”

The Handler ordered him to kill Lila’s parents. Lila, who has powers like them. That couldn’t have been a coincidence.

Absorbing this newfound information, Five attempts to talk the woman down as he fills out the rest of the picture. “You’re right, alright? I killed them. But I killed a lot of people over the years. It was all just a job. Alright? That was never personal.”

At that, Lila laughs. “‘Never personal,’ my ass,” she sneers. “Yeah, I’ve killed – it’s always, always personal.”

“That’s why you’re not cut out to be an assassin.”

She yanks a knife out of her boot as soon as the sentence leaves his mouth. “Bet your life on that?”

Right then, a shadow moves in the doorway to the barn. Five immediately knows who it is, and his heart seizes in his chest.

“Lila!” Your voice is firm and taunting.

Shit. Shit!

Without hesitation, Five lunges for the knife, only to find himself grabbing at air as Lila reappears behind you. The blade is pressed against your neck before he can even shout your name.

Five clenches his fists as he meets your eyes. Your expression is stony, hands stiffly grasping at Lila’s arm. Jesus Christ, just a little energy to blink – nothing –!

Fucking shit!

“Let her go.”

—

The bearded man smiles. “Sorry, no can do.”

The alley is frigid and dark, the air damp and rotting. He doesn’t move a muscle. In front of him, you breathe steadily, in and out, not saying a word. The steel barrel pressed flush to your temple mirrors the one against his.

“Just hand over your valuables and that briefcase, and we can be on our way.”

“Sorry,” you say, voice steady and cold. (It makes him proud.) “Everything stays with us.”

He looks at you. You blink.

Within the next half-second, he’s knocked your captor to the ground and the two of you are aiming the guns at their previous owners. They raise their hands almost immediately. Exactly like the exercise from his youth.

Another half-second, and both of you pull the triggers.

Five stares down at the corpse now lying on the ground. Then he straightens his tie and turns to you.

You’re still pointing the gun at the other target. His frown softens.

“[Y/n].”

Putting a hand on your arm, he notes how you stiffen, snapping out of whatever zone you had been in. You meet his eyes and breathe in sharply, then relax.

“We’re done.” You frame the question as more of a statement as Five takes the former thief’s gun from you.

“For the night,” he affirms, holding your gaze curiously. “You good?”

You wet your lips and tuck your weapon away. “I’m okay,” you eventually reply. He raises an eyebrow; your mouth twitches. “I just – well, you’re taking this whole assassin thing a lot better than I am. Pointing guns and shooting and killing for real, and – and all that pizzazz.”

“I was a member of the Umbrella Academy,” Five points out dryly. “Thirteen more years of formal training and being able to spatial jump gives me somewhat of an advantage.”

“… That’s true.” Still, you seem unsettled. “Five, you’re okay with this? We’re … killing people.”

“No. But we have no other option,” he says. “It’s only until I figure out how to get us back, alright?”

You hesitate, then nod. “Alright.”

The pair of you leave the alley, leaving the targets there to be found by the police. The fact that they had a gun pointed at your head should make him feel better about it. They were already criminals, too. Self-defense instead of cold-blooded “corrections.”

There’s still a bitter taste in his mouth anyway.

“You hold your own pretty well,” he murmurs after a while, trying to distract himself.

You grant him a small, knowing smile. “Thanks,” you say, taking his arm as the pair of you walk the rest of the way to the motel. “I had a good teacher while I was stuck in the ruins of the apocalypse.”

He hums. “Weren’t you lucky?”

Your hand tightens around the sleeve of his tailored suit.

“The luckiest.”

—

He’s going to kill her.

Teeth bared, Five starts toward her, only to stop short when Lila presses the blade harder against your throat.

“Not another step, Five,” she warns him, her grip tightening. “Or you’ll both regret it.”

“She’s not responsible for what happened. I was the one who killed them!”

“But she didn’t stop you, did she?”

Five struggles to control his rage. The knife is sharp and black underneath your jaw, ready to draw blood at a moment’s notice.

You inhale shallowly. “Lila,” you rasp.

“Don’t speak.”

“Look,” Five forces out as evenly as he can, catching the woman’s attention again. He can’t take his eyes off that goddamn knife. Five can almost feel the edge cutting into his own skin. “You wanna blame someone, blame the Handler, alright? She faked the kill order.”

“Bullshit! I saw the kill order. AJ Carmichael ordered it, and you and [Y/n] carried it out.”

“Lila, listen to what I’m telling you, alright? The Handler gave us the kill order. She came on the job, which she’d never done before.” He unclenches his fists with unwilling, trembling fingers. His mind is reeling. “You’re Commission. You know execs never go on jobs, but that day in London, she was there. Ask yourself why –”

“Stop trying to muddy the waters.”

Five swallows, pulse racing. He rips his eyes away from your neck to gauge Lila’s expression. Doubt is beginning to bleed into it, and he manages to keep his tone level.

Focus on completing the picture. No sudden movements.

“Think about it, Lila. It all makes sense.”

Lila’s grip on the knife relaxes by the smallest amount. She hesitates for a moment before speaking. “What?”

“She never cared about your parents. She was looking for you.”

What little is left of her anger melts off Lila’s face. For the first time, the girl looks completely vulnerable. And it’s not a farce.

“Why?” she whispers.

Come on …

“‘Cause you’re one of us.”

Lila whips her head around when Diego cuts through the silence, holding you even more tightly against herself. Five’s gaze snaps back to the knife again and he swears internally.

Dammit, Diego, you better have a plan!

“The Handler stole you, Lila. Just like our asshole father took all of us,” his brother explains carefully.

“No. It’s not the same thing.”

“You’re right. Because he didn’t have our parents murdered.” Diego approaches her, staying low to the ground, hands outstretched. “Listen to me, Lila. You were born October 1, 1989, the same day as all of us.”

The rest of his siblings close in on Lila, slowly, warily. The movement sends her into a panic, and she cuts a little into your neck. You let out half of a gasp and swallow the rest of it, but it’s enough.

Five sees red.

“Get your fucking hands off her!”

“STAY BACK!”

“Five! Back off!” Diego shouts. Chest heaving and blood roaring in his ears, Five looks at him and then at your sweaty, frozen face – and against every fiber of his being, he listens and backs off, glaring venomously as his brother then turns to Lila again. “Lila? Lila, stop. Let her go.”

She turns her head from side to side, knuckles white as she keeps the knife against your throat. “No,” she chokes. “Diego, you don’t understand. They killed my parents. They took my life away from me.”

Five seethes. “For the last time, it was nothing personal –"

“And it was wrong. I know.” Diego’s eyes flit to Five’s, silently reprimanding. “You want to make them pay for what they did. But killing [Y/n]’s not gonna bring your parents back. You know that.”

“It’s not about bringing them back.”

He nods once, softly. “You’re right. It’s about justice. Honoring their memory.” Diego’s voice is gentle. “Trust me, Lila, I get it. I lost someone to the Commission too. She wasn’t family, but she was my friend, and I cared about her. She wasn’t supposed to die. She didn’t deserve to die. But she did.”

As Diego continues talking, Five keeps his guard up on the other side, watching and waiting for a contraction of a muscle, a single forewarning of violence. If another drop of your blood stains that blade, shit, he’ll kill the woman with his own two hands, Diego’s feelings be damned.

Tightening his jaw, Five shifts on his feet as he looks at you. You stare back with calm eyes – just like that night in the alley, but this time, with no signal for him to make a move.

Goddammit, they should’ve gotten you to safety by now!

“… Just think about whether taking another life would honor their memory. [Y/n] deserves a chance to start over, live a peaceful life with people she cares about. And so do you.”

Lila’s trembling. Yet, she refuses to budge. “If it weren’t for her and Five,” she whispers, “I wouldn’t need that second chance. I would have been all alone if Mum hadn’t found me that night.”

“But there’s a reason she found you. She’s using you, Lila. The Handler.”

“You’re wrong. She raised me.” Lila pauses, then asserts, “She loves me.”

“She’s dangerous,” Diego emphasizes. “And you’re scared of what she’ll do with all that new power. That’s why you dragged me to the Commission. Because I know what it’s like to love dangerous people.”

—

“Oh, my.” The Handler puts a hand on his shoulder, hovering behind him. “One hundred and forty-three kills on the simulation? That’s a new record. Very, very good, Five.”

Five bristles at her closeness, but he doesn’t move away, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of unnerving him. “Thanks,” he says tersely.

“Tell me, Five. From what I’ve seen during your training, you’d be a lot more efficient in the field if you were a one-man team. Working alone is when you work best.”

“I’m partnering up with [Y/n].”

“And you’ve filled out the paperwork and everything, I know. I know. But I implore you to think about it logically,” the Handler tells him, leading him down the hallway. “[Y/n] has highly marked assessments, but frankly, they’re nowhere near your level.” She raises her eyebrows at him and blows out a stream of smoke. “Forgive me for assuming, but perhaps this is less about a partnership that would benefit the Commission and more about your personal … relationship.”

Five smiles thinly at her. “With all due respect, we’ve worked together for years. Almost forty years, in fact. I can assure you that our partnership will deliver more than satisfactory results.”

The woman just hums serenely, eyebrows still raised and cigarette holder between her lips as he faces her. Behind her, he sees you approaching.

“Excuse me,” he says politely.

As he sidesteps the Handler to meet you halfway, your shared employer calls out to him, voice ringing through the sparse crowd of Commission drones. “You’re a dangerous man, Five,” she drawls, “and this is a dangerous job. If you want to protect someone, we won’t stop you, but don’t let it endanger this opportunity we’ve so generously provided. To the both of you.”

“Duly noted,” Five replies over his shoulder, walking away with you. He can hear the Handler’s heels click against the floor as she goes on her way as well.

“She’s suspicious about us partnering up, isn’t she?” you ask him lowly.

He frowns. “I would be too if I were her. But we have to stay together.”

“Well.” You reach up to adjust his hat, tilting it slightly. “In any case, I’m pulling my own weight in the field. Just like in the apocalypse. No one-sided protection.”

“[Y/n], this is different from the apocalypse. We’re not dealing with food shortages or bad weather – we’re dealing with people.”

“All the more reason for you to trust me.” Despite your usual controlled tone and mien, he sees the way that your eyes glint. “I’m kinda dangerous myself, Five. Especially for the people I love, and I’ve been in love with you for years.”

Five sighs.

“You’re so sappy, you know that?”

(Nevertheless, he finds himself mumbling those four words, just loud enough for only you to hear.)

—

“Difference is …” Diego glances around at their siblings, then looks down, “they love me back.”

“Shut up.”

“The only thing she loves is power. Now, the minute she can’t use you, she will turn on you, and deep down, I know you know that.”

She tilts the knife against your neck. Five sucks in a breath, his heart pounding.

“You don’t know me, Diego.” Lila’s voice is hoarse.

Diego steps closer. He lifts a hand to cover hers over the knife.

“Don’t I?” he whispers. “I know that we can be your family. If you just let us.”

Lila’s eyes are glossy with unshed tears. Hesitantly, she turns her head to look around at his family, and in that moment, Five has a cautious inkling that Diego’s words actually got through to her. She doesn’t resist when Diego pulls her hand gently.

When she releases you, he almost feels weak with relief.

Five murmurs your name as you stagger over to him; you grab his arms, and he raises his hands to hold your face between them.

“Shit,” he breathes, “[Y/n] –”

“I’m okay,” he hears you say, but his ears are ringing and your skin is cold and shit, your neck – delicately, Five tilts your head back, and you attempt to brush his hands away. “Five, it’s – it’s just a scratch …”

His fingers brush against a wetness on your skin. You wince, almost imperceptibly. He draws back to look at his hand, and when he sees the blood on his fingertips, your blood, the wave of relief crashing onto him abruptly morphs back into rage.

Before you can pull him back, Five lunges at Lila.

Gunshots echo throughout the barn.

—

You’re smiling.

—

He wakes up, gasping for breath.

“Oh, good! You’re still alive,” the Handler says, looming over him. Her lipstick is bright red through the dizzying blurs. “Lucky you. You got to see how this all played out.”

Grappling for air, Five tries to speak – tries to give one last word, to finally tell the damned snake to fuck off as he stares into the barrel of her automatic. But it hurts to breathe and he can’t. Fuck, it hurts. It hurts. His tongue feels like lead and his throat is closed up. All he can do is look.

But before she can pull the trigger, he hears gunfire.

Bullets rend flesh that isn’t his. Five’s eyes widen, stunned; the Handler gasps sharply. She turns. More gunfire.

She falls.

Shit, that could only mean.… Five struggles to lift his head, almost blacking out from the pain as the gunman approaches, crushing straw underfoot. A shadow falls over him.

The Swede silently tilts his gun down at his face, and he realizes: they are both the last ones. Everyone else is dead. The Swede’s brothers. The Handler. Lila. His siblings. You.

This is the end.

(This doesn’t have to be the end.)

… Five blinks, numb.

(You’re the one who got us stuck here.)

Unless …

(Seconds. Not decades.)

Seconds.

His lungs burn. Hope blooms in his chest.

(C’mon, Five.)

Concentrate. Hands clenching sluggishly, Five focuses on gaining back the feeling in them. Seconds, not decades. A familiar, electric buzz thrums through his bones, warm, crackling with energy. His hands begin to glow. Blue envelops them like they had so many times before.

It happens slowly, time reversing itself like molasses oozing back into a jar. The Swede lowers his arm and retreats. Bodies begin to rise. Five feels himself getting pushed up, and his feet touch the ground; he presses forward, running, refusing to look back. The sharp pains recede to a singular ache.

Seconds.

He breaks through behind the barn door with a gasp. Air fills his chest, full and crisp.

Immediately, Five looks back at you and everyone else, standing and breathing, and pats himself just to make sure.

Holy shit.

Spotting movement outside, Five leaps at the Handler just as she walks in, seizing her weapon and turning it on her. His finger curls at the trigger. She raises her hands in surrender, lips pursed.

Got you, you son of a bitch.

“It’s true, isn’t it? What Five said,” he hears Lila ask. He doesn’t dare look away from her mother, meeting her poisonous glare with an equally cold one. “Answer me! Is it true?”

The Handler takes in a breath. “Well –”

Before she can finish her sentence, blood sprays out from her chest. She collapses. Dead.

The Swede. Five stares at her body, gun lowering. There’s a pregnant pause, void of any air – and then in his periphery, Lila shoots forward.

Luther charges after her. “The case!”

“No!”

Diego tackles him to the ground. Lila disappears in a flash of blue.

One dead, one missing. Neither of which are you or his siblings. There might be hope for them yet. Rolling his shoulders, Five turns his attention to the rogue assassin, cocking his gun and pointing it at him. The Swede reciprocates.

Nobody utters a word, for fear that it may be their last. But as Five feels the weight of the automatic in his arms, he wonders, suddenly, just how much he has in common with this man. A forgotten humanity. The death of their families. The force of a person with nothing to lose.

Except in the Swede’s case, he has no chance of gaining back what he had lost.

This is the end.

Five takes his finger off the trigger, then after a brief hesitation, lets go of the gun.

“Enough,” he says.

Nothing happens at first. The only sign that the man heard him is how he looks away from Five, surveying the rest of the barn’s occupants.

Five returns his gaze firmly, muscles tense, when he meets it again. The Swede regards him for another moment, then finally speaks.

“Inte mer.”

He drops his weapon. No more killing.

—

After Vanya helps the kid and calms him down, she goes with him and Sissy to help them pack up. Everyone else exits the barn as well to rest up and say their goodbyes before leaving, save for Diego, who talks to Herb and Dot with you and Five before joining the rest of the group at the house.

As soon as everything seems like it’s on track, Five brings you straight to the bathroom before you can protest.

“Five, it’s just a scratch.”

“That’s what you said last time.”

In a familiar turn of events, you’re sitting on the edge of the bathtub, sulking as he cleans the rest of the dried blood from your neck. Five scowls as he inspects the thin, rough scab underneath your jaw. For shit’s sake, it’s more than a ‘scratch’ – but at the very least, the cut wasn’t deep enough to cause too much bleeding.

Obviously, he’d have preferred it if you hadn’t gotten cut at all.

“She could’ve killed you.”

“I know,” you murmur. He glares at you softly, and you reach over to hold his hand. “Sorry for worrying you.”

Five scoffs, shaking his head. “Worrying me? I was damn well past worrying when she –” At that moment, he makes the mistake of seeing the guilt in your eyes, and he sighs. “What the hell were you thinking?”

You shrug quietly as he opens a large Band-Aid. “That I had to do something to keep you safe.”

“At your expense?”

Your miniscule smile changes into a grimace for a split second when he sticks the bandage on, but it returns immediately after. “You would’ve done the same thing, Five.”

All he can retort with is a displeased huff.

Silently, you stand up and turn him around, urging him to sit down this time as you pluck another hand towel from the stack that Vanya had given the two of you. Five sits still, mouth shut and eyes watching, as you start cleaning his face. Your expression is tender. A familiar feeling wells up inside of him.

Suddenly, you chuckle.

“What?”

“It’s just – if I didn’t know any better,” you say, scrubbing at a particularly grimy spot on his cheek, “I’d think that you were a schoolboy that just got into a fight and lost.”

He rolls his eyes. “Well, good thing that you do know better, because I obviously would’ve won.”

“Obviously.” Your eyes glint, like they have so many times before.

—

“How bad does it hurt?”

Your hand is soft in his as he glances at his wrist, propped up on a stack of books, then into the small fire burning a few feet away. “Not that much,” he answers. “Thanks for splinting it.”

“Thanks for talking me through it.” You breathe in, head on his shoulder, testing the words on your tongue before you continue. “I was worried. I’m glad it’s feeling better.”

A wrist sprain is nothing to write home about, figuratively speaking. It’s more of an inconvenience than an actual concern; Five figures that the injury will heal in a week, a week and a half at the most. Frankly, he’s more concerned about how much longer it’ll take to complete daily tasks in the meantime.

… You, on the other hand – well, he wonders if you’ve ever gotten anything more than a few cuts and scrapes growing up. The closest he had ever seen you get to panicking was after he fell today, and you’ve been wandering around with him for years.

In a strange way, Five thinks, he was glad for it. He is glad for you. Glad for your presence, your level head. He is glad for the way you hold his hand and talk to him during the day and after dark. And he is glad, secretly, that you want to protect him just like he wants to protect you.

“I love you.”

The words slip out, rough and unbidden.

Five holds his breath when they echo in his ears. You stop tapping your fingers over his skin. Perhaps that’s a bad thing. It was not a mistake, of course, and he isn’t going to take it back, but if that wasn’t what you were saying this whole time – shit. He lets go of your hand, his throat scratchy and strangely closed up.

But then – your fingertips brush his face. He swallows.

“I love you too.”

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ambivalentmarvel · 3 years ago

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happy birthday amy @thinkingisadangerouspastime!!!! i’m a day late, but i love you!! thank you for all your fic snippets, fielding my ramblings, and sending me ffwf asks even though i’m not always good at responding to them asdfasdf. enjoy some domestic sambucky (+ aj and cass) being annoying and also in love at the grocery store.

sweeter than us

“For the last time, why do we need the app when I have perfectly good coupons right here?” Sam asks in a grocery store aisle, holding up his binder clip stuffed with deals cut out of the newspaper.

“Babe, quick question.”

“Shoot,” Sam challenges, his eyebrows raised in a way that should be inquisitive but is mostly just irritated. Vaguely. Bucky is nothing if not talented at pushing Sam’s buttons, particularly when they’ve both chosen something to argue about for the hell of it, so he’s gotten familiar with the look.

“Aren’t I supposed to be the old man here?”

Sam glares. AJ and Cass stand off to the side, debating what color the frosting on the cake should be. Sam is still holding out the binder clip between them, and with the way his fingers clench it, Bucky wouldn’t be surprised if he manages to turn it into a weapon or, at the very least, a projectile; he’s seen people do more with less. “You, James Buchanan Barnes, are a major pain in the ass.”

“I’m your pain in the ass. Also, the app can price match.”

A vein in Sam’s temple throbs dangerously. Bucky, frankly, doesn’t understand why his reliance on modern technology is such an inconvenience for him. If everyone in the 21st century carries around tiny computers, shouldn’t they use them? Sam is sucking in a breath and Bucky is preparing to continue his defense of his grocery shopping app when AJ speaks up: “Uncle Sam, we’re getting stuff for chocolate cake, right?”

Sam shoots Bucky a look to say this isn’t over, but he turns to face his nephew. “Hell yeah we are.”

Cass frowns. “Mom says you’re not supposed to cuss around us.”

“Your mom is also getting a chocolate cake when everyone knows vanilla is the better flavor,” Sam points out. “Besides,” he winks, which makes both AJ and Cass grin conspiratorially, “are you guys gonna’ tell her?”

“Hell no!” they chorus, and Sam’s vein is doing that thing again.

“Now, wait a second—”

Bucky lets him chew them out. They’re up early getting ingredients for a cake and breakfast in bed for Sarah, seeing as it’s her birthday, and while he suspected bringing AJ and Cass along might not help their productivity any, it is endearing to see his boyfriend around them.

Bucky eyes their cart. Going to the grocery store with a big family—and somehow, Bucky has one of those now—inevitably means, as Bucky has learned, picking up things you didn’t plan on getting. They’re not doing too bad this time around, but lunch meat, goldfish, cantaloupe, chicken nuggets, and ice cream, among other things, are definitely not the ingredients they came for.

“—just because I say something doesn’t mean you get to say it!”

“Why not?” AJ grouses. “That’s not fair.”

“I’m an adult. You two are not.”

“But—”

“And I’m Captain America. Comes with special privileges.”

Bucky’s pleased he tuned in just in time to hear Sam pull the superhero card on his nephews. The boys glance at him, maybe to see if he’ll jump ship and side with them to irk Sam, but he prioritizes staying in Sarah’s good graces over bothering his boyfriend. Bucky shrugs. “I don’t know what you guys want me to say—I’m a super-soldier. The two of us get shared benefits.”

“Shared benefits,” Cass mocks under his breath, distorting the words into a higher pitch. Bucky chooses to let that one go, as does Sam.

“Do we have everything we need yet?” Sam asks, effectively distracting the boys. “We were down to more cocoa powder, oil, and powdered sugar for the icing, right?”

“And sprinkles!” Cass interjects while AJ skitters to the back of their group.

Sam shakes his head. “We already have sprinkles at the house, bud.”

Cass ignores him, going to a shelf, standing on his tip-toes, and reaching for an admittedly oversized container. “But these are yellow. And sparkly. And yellow is Mom’s favorite color!”

He makes a good point. However, Bucky can see that Sam isn’t convinced, and he has to be the boys’ uncle’s cool boyfriend somehow. He leans in, pecking Sam on the lips. “Come on, babe, it’ll be a good touch. And they’re sparkly,” he reiterates.

Sam turns to look Bucky in the eye, his expression equal parts exasperated and fond. “You’re a menace, you know that?”

Bucky holds up his hands placatingly. “I live to serve. You should too, Captain Ameri—”

Sam tugs him in for a kiss by his collar to cut him off, and Bucky’s vaguely aware, through the haze of appreciating that a) he has a boyfriend b) he loves his boyfriend so fucking much and c) the cake is, honestly, going to look fun with the sprinkles, of AJ and Cass gagging in the background.

“Gross!” AJ complains. “Grooooss!”

Sam pulls away from the tragically brief kiss rolling his eyes. “That wasn’t even that long,” he points out as he tucks an arm around Bucky’s back. “If you guys want a gross kiss—”

“No!” the boys shout together, and though Bucky and Sam keep grinning and accidentally-on-purpose bumping into each other as they grab the last few things they need, they keep the PDA to a minimum, as their audience has so clearly requested.

It’s not until they’re up to the register that Bucky clocks that his jacket pocket feels suspiciously light, and when he glances around, he finds AJ at the end of the checkout taking deliberately bad selfies on his phone. His mouth drops open because how did a ten-year-old get the drop on him, a seasoned assassin? Sam starts using the contents of his stupid, outdated binder clip. “He got you while you were convincing me about the sprinkles,” he smirks.

Bucky tosses a half-hearted glare toward AJ, but in terms of revenge, it’s nice that he has a lovely, if annoyingly smug, boyfriend to capitalize on. Distracting Sam from scanning the cantaloupe—which he’s getting a discount on, the asshole—Bucky leans in for one more kiss, and while AJ loudly protests, Bucky thinks Sarah’s birthday is off to a pretty great start.

#sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambucky #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws #the falcon #the winter soldier #thank u ali for the idea bc. head empty no thoughts whenever i need to think up a fluff prompt.#ILY AMY I'M SORRY I'M LATE #PLS ENJOY IDIOTS BEING IDIOTS #ambivalentmarvel #thinkingisadangerouspastime #starkravinghazelnoots

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oopsitsstella · 3 years ago

Text

Baby Parker-Wilson

Sam Wilson x Parker! Reader, Peter Parker x Mom! Reader

Fandom: The MCU

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

Summary: The new member of the family is finally here

Warnings: Mentions of childbirth and labor, some medical stuff (they’re in a hospital), father missing the birth of his child, stressed Sam, fluff

April 9th had been an exhausting day for every member of the Wilson-Parker family, though Sam and Bucky were oblivious to the stress the rest of the family had experienced that day. The two had been away on a mission for two weeks, something Sam was very anxious about.

The due date for his and Y/N’s baby was drawing ever closer, and he didn’t want to risk missing it. Sadly, skipping this mission hadn’t been an option, and they had been away for longer than either of them had expected.

“What’s that on the door?” Bucky asked as he slammed the car door shut.

Sam turned to see what he was talking about, and saw what appeared to be a note stuck on the front door of the house. After slinging his duffel bag over his shoulder, he walked onto the porch and stopped to read said note.

Sam and Bucky,

If you’re reading this, you should be done with the mission. We’re at the hospital, get your asses here now

Sarah

“The hospital?” Bucky said, as realization struck Sam.

“Shit.” He said, opening the door and throwing his bag in, before moving back to the car. “Put the bag inside and get over here.”

“What’s- oh.” Bucky realized the situation, and quickly followed Sam’s instructions.

He’d barely had time to close the car door before they were driving away again.

“Pete.” Sarah stuck her head out from the hospital room to look at her nephew. “You can come in if you want.” She said, stepping out of the room and holding the door open for him.

He immediately stood up and walked into the room, seeing his mom half sitting half lying on the hospital bed.

“Hi honey.” She said, smiling at her son.

“Hi.” He replied, sitting down next to her. “How’d it go?”

“I’ve been told it went well, but I’ve barely seen for myself yet.” She said. “They took her away pretty quickly to clean her and such.”

“Well that’s good.” Peter said, relaxing slightly in his seat. “How’re you feeling?”

“Exhausted. But I’m happy it’s done.” Y/N said. “It’s been a long nine months, but now she’s here.”

“Knock knock.” Sounded from outside the room as the door was pushed open, and in stepped Dr. Kenny, along with a nurse who was holding a small bundle of blankets.

“We’re happy to report that your baby girl is happy and healthy.” Dr. Kenny said as the nurse handed the baby to Y/N.

Peter leaned in closer to look at his new baby sister, and a smile quickly spread on his face.

“Thank you Doctor.” Y/N said, and she smiled in response.

“Just doing my job.” She said. “We’ll be back soon, there are still some things to take care of, but we’ll give you some time alone.”

Dr. Kenny made a swift exit along with the nurse, and Y/N looked back down at her daughter.

“Hi baby.” She cooed, watching as she opened her eyes. “Welcome to the family.”

Y/N shifted slightly, allowing Peter to get a better look.

“Hey Tiny.” He said, reaching a hand out, and let her small fingers close around one of his. “It’s nice to finally meet you. We’ve been waiting a long time for you.”

“Speaking of waiting, I wonder where your daddy is.” Y/N said, glancing at the door.

As if on cue, the door opened and Sarah looked in. “Guess who finally showed up?” She said, and Sam entered the room.

Sarah gave him a shove towards his wife and kids, before closing the door again.

“Speak of the devil.” Y/N said, looking at him, and that seemed to shake Sam from his trance, and he chuckled.

“Sorry I’m late.” He said, in typical Sam fashion, and moved to sit on Y/N’s other side. “Can’t believe I missed it.”

“You’re here now, that’s what matters.” Y/N said, moving to hand the baby to her father.

“Hi baby girl.” He said, looking down at the bundled was now holding in his arms. “Sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived.”

“She doesn’t seem to mind too much.” Y/N said, smiling at the way the small girl reached up towards Sam’s face.

“Decided on a name yet?” Sam asked.

“Well, I had one in mind, but I didn’t want to decide without you.” Y/N said, and Sam looked at her. “Riley Darlene Wilson has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

“I think it sounds great.” Peter said.

“I think you’re right, Spider-Kid.” Sam said, making Peter roll his eyes.

“It’s Spider-Man.” He said, and both Y/N and Sam chuckled.

“You’re still our kid though.” Y/N said.

“Fair enough.” Peter conceded, before he perked up and pulled out his phone. “Can I take a picture to send to May? I promised I’d update her.”

“Get over here.” Sam smiled, and Peter rounded the bed and took a picture of Riley before sending it to May.

“Are you sure about Riley?” Sam asked, looking at Y/N.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” She asked. “He meant a lot to you, and something tells me she does too.”

Sam smiled, and blinked away the tears in his eyes. “That’s an understatement.”

There was another knock on the door, and Bucky stuck his head in.

“Think we can come in? I’m starting to feel bad for Sarah having to keep me and the boys in check.” He asked, and AJ and Cass peeked in behind Bucky.

“Have at it.” Y/N said, and the remaining family members, well, the ones present, piled into the room.

The boys gathered around Sam, who was still holding Riley, while Sarah went to stand next to Y/N.

“So what’s Tiny’s name?” Bucky asked, a hand placed on the back of Sam’s chair, looking down at the baby girl.

“Riley. Riley Darlene Wilson.” Y/N said.

“You didn’t name her after me?” Bucky said, placing a hand over his chest. “I’m offended.”

“Get over it, Cyborg.” Sam said, you could practically hear his eyes rolling.

“Alright, I guess I will.” Bucky joked, and clapped Sam on the shoulder. “You did good, Bird Man.”

“You really did.” Sarah told Y/N, who gave her a grateful smile.

“It seems we did.”

#sam wilson x reader #platonic! peter parker x reader #peter parker x mom! reader #peter parker x reader #sam wilson imagine #peter parker imagine #avengers x reader #avengers imagine

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romiantic · 4 years ago

Text

𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 𝒓𝒚𝒐𝒕𝒂 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒆 𝒙 𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓!𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌!𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 ࿐ྂ

彡 ❛ 𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 ❜

彡 𝗳𝘁. ryota kise

彡 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: fluff with very little angst

彡 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2.3k

彡 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: suggestive theme at the end

彡 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: all characters are 18+. also can we talk about how BOMB this song is 🤧 y’all sleepin on this song fr

·˚ ༘ੈ✩‧₊˚ ╰┈➤ ❛❛ 𝙄 𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙒𝘼𝙔 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝘿𝙊 𝙄𝙏 ❜❜

❝ 𝐘/𝐍 𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐘𝐎 𝐀𝐒𝐒 𝐔𝐏! You have two minutes till showtime.” Your manager, AKA, older brother, barged and announced to you like he didn’t update you almost five minutes ago.

You did your usual of sucking your teeth and rolling your teeth every time he barged in and interrupted your call, you replied with annoyance in your tone, “AJ I know! Can you wait a minute? Damn, so impatient for absolutely no reason.”

“I’m sorry who’s the one with hundreds of thousands of fans screaming their name and waiting for their ass outside? Me or you? Oh okay. Anyways, end yo little call with yo boyfr-”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” You interrupted, becoming irritated with your brother and simply wanted him to shut the fuck up. A great manager and brother, yet way too uptight for his job.

AJ rolled his eyes and muttered something but you flipped him off and pretended not to hear him until he left your dressing room. You gave your attention back to your phone, giving a cheeky smile to the blonde boy on your screen. From the corner of his eye, he noticed a nervous look growing on you but from what you could tell, he was choosing what shirt to wear to his photoshoot. Leaving him to be seen with a no top on and a pair of denim jeans.

Though it was typical to see your best friend’s exposed upper body, it was a sight you never got used to. His well-toned body, results from years of playing basketball in middle and high school, making your face hot, adding on to the nervousness you were already facing from your upcoming performance. Along with the pearly white smile he flashed at you creating a sick feeling in your stomach, something that you made you clench onto it and try to ignore. Now was not the time to be drooling over your best friend, who interrupted your stare with a laugh and said, “Are you gonna keep staring or are you gonna take a picture?”

Of course, he’d ruin it with some cocky line like that, you rolled your eyes and sucked your teeth. “Boy calm down, ain’t nobody wanna was staring.”

“Your nervous face said otherwise.”

“Akekeke, don’t you have a photoshoot to go to?”

Kise replied with the same energy as yours, “And don’t you have a performance to go to?”

You held up a finger to a screen then crossed your arms, “Aht aht, don’t worry about me now. Worry about yo lil pictures with that famous ass Russian model.” You wanted to roll your eyes just thinking about the brought-up woman but it would make it seem like you’re being jealous for no reason.

Kise let out a small laugh, adoring the irritated look that was starting to creep up on your face. “Somebody sounds jealous.”

You rolled your eyes and let out a scoff, “Oh please, like I would be.” You looked at the time on your watch and noticed it was about one minute until your performance. Your eyes widened at the time and hurried, you quickly ended the call with Kise, “Shit, fuck! I gotta go perform but I’ll call you back when I’m done.”

“And I’ll be waiting for you beautiful when you get back.” The golden-eyed boy winked at you yet you cringed and scrunched your face. “You’re so fucking corny Kise.” You hung up the call, grab any other pieces missing from your outfit, and headed out of your dressing room.

You traveled quickly around backstage, passing by many coworkers and background dancers waiting for you, to head into the small tunnel for artists to come out on stage. You stopped at the exit and gulped as you scanned the stage. An outside arena with hundreds of thousands of fans cheering your name, waiting for your appearance.

Usually, you would be at ease with concerts this large but for some reason this time is different. Unknowing the reason nor cause, you started to feel anxious, your hands mildly shaking and your throat going dry.

There was something in the back of your mind attempting to not make you perform, something telling you to not do it, it won’t be good, people will hate you. A voice there to influence thoughts, hoping that you would fall into the trap and just give up on singing. Though of course, you wouldn’t listen to that voice, that voice always lingered around whenever you were brought to perform, no matter where you were.

The only thing to distract you and keep you safe from that tiny voice is someone who you’ve longed to love. One who just settles your nerves, bringing comfort, and removing all anxious thoughts. One who would deem you as one of the greatest artists he’s ever listened to, maybe it’s opinionated but he loves you too much to disagree.

The now dawdling thought of his soft voice whenever he spoke or his flirtatious nature when you two joked around made a familiar feeling grow greater than before. Something replaced the anxiousness that was growing, a feeling that replaced the nervousness and calmed your shaky hands. Something that was the thought of Ryota Kise, he was like the medicine to all the pain you’ve suffered. A remedy to your anxiety, one of the many causes of the cheeky smile social media often sees you with.

Someone who you grew up and spent all your life with, always noticing how protective he was of you or the way he hummed one of your pre-recorded tracks that he was the only one to listen to. Celebrating one of your songs had hit #1 on the Billboard chart and the way he helped out whenever you hit writer’s block.

Every single thing, noticeable or not, made you grown to love the boy, starting from a platonic, playground friendship blooming to many years of trying to figure out if you are romantically in love with him. Growing familiar feelings of butterflies mixed with the thought of just wanting to cup his face and kiss him whenever he was around.

Just the ultimate feeling of wanting to be buried in the blonde boy’s arms and explain the blooming love for him made you want to sing the song you wrote for him. A new single that you never wanted to put out since you wanted only Kise to hear it, including that the song was your way of telling him what you felt all these years.

Though something changed your mind, something in your brain told you to tell everyone around you that you’re singing solo, no backup singers or dancers, only you on that stage. In this performance, you just had to do it yourself, nothing but you, the stage, and the microphone.

Everyone was confused by the last-minute change of plans but went along with it. They rescheduled it to where your first “official” song to start the concert with was right after your solo performance. You gave thanks to your team and took some deep breaths. You made sure your Bluetooth set was on and working properly in your ear, AJ handed you a mic and brushed off any wrinkling from your outfit and any smoothed out your hair. Uptight about his job yet made sure his little sister was looking the greatest for her performances.

You took deep breaths again, shook off any bad nerves, and walked on stage. The already excited crowd enraged and their volume expanded as they saw you stand before them. Everyone waving their signs that said, “I love you y/n!!” or “Y/N is so beautiful!” You waved to the audience and stopped at the middle of the stage, walking closer to the front of the stage as well.

You turned on the mic and tapped it to see if it was working, “Mic check one two, can you guys hear me?” The crowd immediately responded yes, you continued on to talk to them, “Okay good, have been getting technical difficulties with my mic and I really don’t feel like switching mics three times. Anyways, afternoon to all my lovely fans who made it out here or to those that are watching me live. I love you all and thank you for supporting me, I truly am grateful for every single one of y’all.” Everyone screamed out how much they love you and adore you, showing off their merch that they bought and waving the homemade posters.

You smiled at their response and cleared your throat as you introduced the song, “Thank you, I love you too. This first song is one that has been sitting too comfortably in my heart. A piece that came from genuine emotions and feelings I’ve tried to bury yet couldn’t no matter how hard I tried. It’s something that I never planned on dropping but I just felt like the world had to hear what I had to say. Hopefully, you guys enjoy it cause I did when I was writing this song at two in the morning before I snuck into the studio and recorded it. Was it worth it? Definitely. Now I may introduce to you, Not Another Love Song. A contradicting title isn’t it?”

You took a large breath in and out, you took a position as you waited for the beat to drop. As soon as you heard the familiar melody start, you sang, “I don’t wanna mess this up, could it be too much to say I’m in?”

The crowd lowered down and became silent to hear your new single, grasping the beautiful new lyrics you were singing and just vibing along with it.

You yourself were placing emotion as you sang, not noticing how proudly you sang the chorus or how you were smiling at the crowd the entire time. One thing was clouding your mind to even pay attention to those details, the same thing that more than likely pushed you to sing the song.

As you sang, the feelings for your best friend grew stronger, butterflies in your stomach, and the deprivation of his touch grew on you. Not even realizing how much you missed him until you turned initially to smile at AJ and your team yet saw a familiar face appear as well. You questioned it but then turned back to continue singing to the audience, only thinking that mind is playing games with you.

“I'm finna take my time, my mind, my rules. This ain't no crimе makin' love to you, though you ain't say this. But I had a hard time waitin' for you, boy. Like ooh, boy, you, boy. Got me where you want, just gotta say and it's on, it's like, ooh, boy, do you know you got me like where do you go when you're alone?”

As you sang, you noticed the crowd growing silent, their eyes widening, and their jaws dropping. You were utterly confused at was catching their attention, you turned to your team and your brother pointed behind, giving you a goofy smile as well.

You turned around to what was the cause of this silent commotion and right along with everyone else, your jaw drop and your eyes widened. The flirtatious, handsome model that everyone knew of was standing in front of you with a bouquet of roses in his hand. He walked up to you and smiled greatly, closing in the large gap between the both of you.

Seeing him walk closer to you made you want to say forget concert and sing the rest to him. Half of your feeling was already poured out, not even knowing he was listening to all of it. You didn’t think he would even be here since he had a photoshoot, not standing on an outside stage with a bouquet of roses and dressed in casual attire.

He handed you the roses and kissed your forehead, telling you, “Alone with you, away from the world, where else would I be when I’m alone?”

No response came from you, not even a single gasp or a sniffle to signify that you might cry. The way you responded to his presence was something that shocked the arena, everyone watching you on live, your team, and even the two of you yourself. Who would’ve thought you would be bold enough to grab his face and kiss him right then and there? You snaked your arm around his waist and pulled him closer to deepen the kiss. He responded back by wrapping his hands around your shoulders and hugging you tightly, holding onto you to make sure you wouldn’t separate from him.

You pulled back from the kiss and smiled, softly combed his blonde hair, and expressed, “I love you, Kise.” Saying his name like it was something you’ve been aching to say, a name that you’ve buried away yet brought out today. A name that sounded so lovely and romantic when you say it.

Kise expressed as well, “I love you too y/n. I’ve always loved you and I will never stop loving you.” He kissed you again, he removed his hand from your shoulders and trailed around to find your hands. He removed your hands from his waist and instead intertwined them with his.

He felt you smile when he held your hand and smiled back. He stated in between kisses, “You know I’m staying on this stage to hear you finish that song right?”

“It’s fine, I need someone to do my next performance on anyways.” He looked at you and you did nothing but wink and mischievously smiled at him. Kise had a small idea of what he could expect but suppressed it to enjoy the soft moment he wanted between the both of you. A moment that he’ll never forget and a concert that will always be remembered for everyone around you.

彡 it’s like 5 am and I’m tired 🦧 the only thing that kept me up was the fact that I don’t have school plus I loveeeeee kise

彡 also the show olivia

彡 I don’t think I ever mentioned to y’all how much I love his ass but now is definitely not the time 😁

彡 I’m convinced if it silent black hair blue eye powerful men weren’t my type, cocky and flirtatious ones would be runner up

彡 anyways hope you guys enjoy + pleaseee listen to the song, I highly recommend plus ella mai is VERY underrated

bye babes, drink your water, stay hydrated, and remember that you are the baddest bitch on the planet 🥰 no matter what ANYONE says

𝐏𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐦 𝟏𝟖:𝟑𝟎 💗

#knb x black reader #knb x black!reader #ryouta kise x black reader #ryouta kise x black!reader #knb fluff #kise fluff #ryouta kise fluff

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rebellconquerer · 3 years ago

Note

“It’s really not that complicated.”

For Sarah and Sam

Another prompt fill. Will be crossposted to AO3. And to the anon that sent in the request today, yes! My inbox is still and always open for more.

Sarah sighs to herself, digging even further into the bottom of her bag. She knows she has it somewhere. It lives in her handbag during the summer for just this reason.

“Hey mom, can we go into Crescent City Comic? Please?” AJ asks from somewhere along her right side.

She knows the damn fan is in there. Lipstick, chapstick, book, ah! She pulls her hand out and gives a frustrated huff. Old papers, still not the fan.

“Mom?”

“Huh? Um, yeah, sure. Don’t wander off from there though, you hear me? You either stay there or come right back,” she’s all but yelling at his retreating back as he runs the half block towards the store, holding his brother’s hand and dodging in between the crowd of people on the streets.

Sarah shakes her head smiling to herself as her hand finally, mercifully brushes against her fan. She lets out a small sound of success as she pulls it out of the bag, unhooks it and starts fanning herself. The gentle wind, even if it is as muggy as the rest of the mid morning heat, is a welcome reprieve. She turns back to the vendors lining the street, fanning herself slowly as she surveys the various bits of jewelry on display, in the market for a new set of earrings perhaps.

She’d all but dragged the lot of them out to the La Gente music and street festival in the Lower Garden this morning. Sam and Bucky had come back from their last trek to DC almost a day ago in a foul mood. She isn’t exactly sure what happened but from what she has gathered they had a mission go bad, monumentally so, and when they came back there had been insinuations that it was because Jame- Bucky was leaking information, like a double agent or whatever. Utterly ridiculous. Sam said Bucky responded very calmly to the allegation. Sam had not.

It had kind of surprised her that Bucky had come back with Sam in the first place. She’s gotten more used to him being around but it tends to be for a specific event or before they go out for work, not after. But even with her limited knowledge of him, just looking at him when they arrived Sarah could tell he was… upset. Something about the calmness and stillness he carried in his frame that was just… not right. Her brother had done the right thing bringing him home and she’s kinda glad Bucky had let himself be brought back to Louisiana.

She shakes her head, moving away from the stall, she should probably not have him on her mind as much as she does but… there is just something about him, something behind his eyes that tells you there is so much more going on than just what you see.

‘And there is a lot to see’ a voice that sounds suspiciously like her best friend’s whispers in the back of her head, so of course, that’s when she notices him across the street.

He’s standing by three ancient-looking old men and one very smitten looking teenager. Sarah laughs, she can’t blame the teen. James wears henleys very well and this dark grey one is no exception. Plus he has the buttons around the neck unbuttoned just enough so that you can see a glint of his dog tags when he moves… yeah, Sarah pities the poor girl.

Sarah very deliberately does not go to him (she’s an adult, she does not get crushes on her big brother’s friends anymore) and heads to the fruit stall next to where he’s standing. She catches a little snippet of the conversation before the band starts up and has to ignore the little flip her heart does because he’s speaking fluent Spanish to his old people group and the words sound mouth-watering on his tongue.

She shakes her head a little violently, returning her focus to picking out ripe fruits. She is not interested.

Guajira, I love you too much

“What you up to, sis?” Sam asks, out of nowhere. Only years of being a mother to tiny humans with quiet steps keep her from jumping.

“What does it look like, smart ass?” she replies, yelling just a bit to be heard over the band.

Sam frowns as he watches her pick out mangoes. “I don’t like mangoes,” he tells her like she doesn’t already know.

“These aren’t for you. AJ loves them, as does Cass. And I cook with them sometimes.” she says, picking out four and twirling the bag closed, the beat of the music is infectious as she begins to sway.

“Then why not get more?” Sam asks, poking at the nearest, clearly unripe mango. He’s such a child.

“They are almost 5 dollars for one. Too expensive.”

Sam scoffs. “Everything is negotiable.”

Sarah rolls her eyes. Her brother always thinks he knows best. This wasn’t a pop-up. She knew this stand. “Mr Gonzalez would negotiate, but his daughter, Benita, is a hard ass. I’ve never gotten her to sell anything for a cent less than advertised.” Sarah finishes pointing at the woman in question.

Oye Guajira, so nice to meet ya

Next time I see ya, we gon’ roll some reefer

Sam does a little salsa two-step and a spin, grabbing her bag of mangoes from her hand. “Let’s see shall we?” he says, plastering on a ridiculous smile and walking into the store.

Sarah huffs out a laugh crossing her arms as she watches Sam sidle up to Benita.

“Why does he look like he’s up to something?” Jam- Bucky asks from beside her. She doesn’t look over at him.

“That’s how he always looks, his face has been stuck like that since we were kids. I told him it would happen,” she mutters mostly to get a laugh out of James. It works, the sound sending a pleasant warmth rolling down her spine.

She risks a glance over at him, and with the smile on his face, it’s dangerous.

“You left your friends behind? Are they all actually your age?” she asks, gesturing to his little old people group still standing a ways behind them with her chin.

He glances over his shoulder at them. “Hey it’s not my fault no one in the younger age group seems to know anything about baseball,” he replies. “Gotta take good conversation where I can get it.”

“Oh it must be so hard for you, poor baby.” she teases.

His eyes meet hers with a small smirk “Easier when I’m with you.” he replies lightly.

Sarah’s grin widens as she tries not to let him get to her head.

“Quite the silver tongue James- sorry. I mean Bucky!” She corrects almost immediately, feeling her face heat up. God, she can’t even get his name right, she clearly shouldn’t be flirting with him.

But he only laughs.

“You always seem to prefer James,” he states with a hint of question in his tone.

She shrugs, the embarrassment still making her feel a little off-kilter. “It’s a nice name, but I know you prefer Bucky.”

His smile gets real. “No one’s really called me James outside of my family, and that was a long time ago,” he says, eyes going distant and unfocused for a minute before he looks back over at her. “But if you like James, you should call me that.”

She has never been more grateful for her dark complexion and inability to turn red as she is at this moment. “No- no I couldn’t. You prefer Bu-”

“It sounds good coming from you. I like it,” he says with finality, that life-altering, heart-stopping smirk back on his face and honestly what can she do but smile back at him?

Brother, it’s true, no doubt she’s flawless

Her love’s a drug, she was getting me yo

“I told you, I’d get it done. Does your big brother keep his promises or what?” Sam says, interrupting their gazing and their smiling.

She looks over to him, pushing the dazed smile off her face.

“4 mangoes for ten dollars, a permanent 10% off produce for the restaurant and-” Sam says, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket with a flourish. “Her number.”

Sarah stares in astonishment. “How the hell did you do that, Sam?”

He shrugs, lips twitching as he fights the smile forcing its way onto his face. “It’s really not that complicated, Sarah. I am very good looking,” he says, finally giving in to that gap-toothed smile.

Both her and James groan dramatically, turning to walk away from him.

“Great, he’ll be insufferable now.” James whispers, ducking in close to her, his proximity dizzying.

She laughs as Sam overtakes them, salsa-ing ridiculously by himself as he walks in front of them and singing along with the band.

“Guajira, I love you too much”

#rebellwrites #bucky/sarah #bucky x sarah #fleur de louve #bucky barnes #sam wilson #barah #bucky x sarah fic

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potrix-the-queerschlaeger · 4 years ago

Text

too fast for love

Technically a sequel to this and this, but can totally be read as a sexy-fluffy standalone. And it’s also over on AO3.

- - -

It became a ritual after Sam returned home from Afghanistan, filled with overwhelming misery and crippling grief, and too jittery with the pressure of it most days to sit still for more than a few minutes at a time. AJ and Cass had been so young, back then, a teething toddler who barely remembered his uncle, and a baby small enough that Sam had constantly been afraid of accidentally squishing him, somehow.

Which hadn’t stopped Sarah from pushing them into his arms with a cheery, “How about some time with Uncle Sammy, boys?” and absolutely no regard for Sam’s fumbling and sputtering.

He’d resented her for it, at times. For having the boys, and someone to raise them with, while Sam hadn’t even been able to bring Riley home to bury him. For making him be part of her happy little family, for engaging him and involving him in their daily lives. And even for being stronger than him, later on, for not falling apart completely, when Caleb had had the accident and made her a widow.

It still fills him with shame and guilt, even today, to think about those months. Because Sam knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that if it hadn’t been for his sister, he wouldn’t be here today.

He would have given up.

But Sarah hadn’t let him. She’d always been the more stubborn one, out of the two of them.

(Watch out for the break!)

And so Sam had gone out on the boat with Caleb, had helped out at the restaurant, and had looked after the boys for them. He’d changed poopy diapers, endured tantrums, argued with a sassy two-year-old, and had realised, eventually, how much he loved it.

Loved it, and needed it.

Evenings had always been his favourite. He’d been perpetually exhausted those days, awake most nights to avoid the nightmares he knew would find him if he closed his eyes, and it had always been the worst during the evenings, when things started to calm down and settle. And the boys, however young they’d been, must have felt it, too, because in the evenings, they were content to curl up with Sam on the couch, watching him with big, curious eyes while Sam read to them.

And, somehow, they’d just never stopped.

They’re too old to want to be tucked in by their uncle every night, now, but whenever Sam’s home for a stretch of time, they’ll eventually fall back into their comfortable, practiced routine. The books have changed, from ones with few words and colourful pictures to novels about pirates and treasures, but they still sprawl all over Sam with their pointy elbows, bickering over the best spot until Sam makes them shriek with laughter by threatening to dump them on the floor.

Sam is simultaneously surprised, and not surprised at all, by how seamlessly Bucky fits into all of it. As if there had always been this space, reserved and waiting just for him, ready to be filled with snarky remarks and soft, eye-crinkling smiles alike.

He’s leaning in the doorway of the boys’ room, watching them puzzle over their newest Lego set with Bucky. It looks like it’s got about a million tiny little pieces he will undoubtedly step on at some point, and Sam’s honestly kind of relieved that Bucky seems to be genuinely enjoying the whole building process, because he’s not sure he’d have the patience for it.

Cass is still sorting pieces into piles, despite his drooping eyes, but AJ is mostly leaning against Buck, yawning every so often as he squints down at the instructions. They’d insisted they wanted Bucky, tonight, high-fiving and grinning at each other when Sarah had given them the okay, nearly tripping over each other in their hurry to get upstairs and into their PJs.

“Looks like your stuck with the dishes, buddy,” Bucky had said, all fake sympathy, before he’d winked at Sam, and followed the boys with a shouted, “An’ don’t forget to brush your teeth!”

“Look at you, all smitten,” Sarah had teased, and only laughed at him when Sam had forced the undoubtedly sappy smile off his face to glare at her. “Now go grab a towel.”

AJ slumps a little more against Bucky, not even pretending to read anymore. Bucky strokes a hand over his head, and glances up at Sam, brows raised in question.

“All right, monsters,” Sam says, stepping into the room, “time for bed.”

The boys are tired enough that they don’t even put up much of a protest, crawling under the covers while Sam turns off the overhead light, and Bucky turns on the star projector. Bucky gets sleepy fistbumps from them both, then leaves Sam to say good night in peace.

AJ is already mostly asleep, only murmuring quietly when Sam kisses the top of his head, but Cass tugs at his sleeve until Sam perches on the edge of his bed. He pillows his head on Sam’s thigh with a happy little sigh, making Sam chuckle softly, and gently scratch his fingers through his hair until his breaths even out.

Bucky’s fresh out of the shower when Sam gets up to his attic bedroom, towel slung around his hips and hair still wet. He comes readily when Sam reaches for him, tucking himself against Sam, and humming contentedly when Sam runs his hands up and down his back.

“You’re good with them,” Sam tells him, and presses a kiss to Bucky’s shoulder, right over the connection between metal and flesh, “Uncle Bucky.”

Sam can feel Bucky smile against the side of his head. “They’re good kids,” he murmurs back, arms winding around Sam’s waist.

“I’m surprised they didn’t make you read to them, though,” Sam muses. He opens his mouth against Bucky’s neck, just to feel him shiver, and threads his fingers into the short hair at the back of his head. “Only a few chapters left in this one. They’ve been bugging me for two chapters most nights.”

“Nah,” Bucky says, pulling back. His face is open, eyes half-lidded, and mouth soft with a half-smile. “Readin’ with them, ‘s your thing.”

Sam marvels, sometimes, at just how good Bucky is at reading people. Sam never told him any of this, yet here Bucky is, knowing it anyway, and going out of his way to find his own special thing to do with the boys.

Being considerate. Being downright sweet.

It’s tempting, to say it right then. To tell Bucky. But it’s too soon for something so big, so important, so Sam swallows the words back down, and kisses Bucky instead.

Watching Bucky come undone beneath him is something Sam will absolutely never get tired of.

It’s intimate, a privilege, to be allowed to see Bucky like this, unguarded and trusting. There’s a watchfulness that’s been beaten into him, in the army and under HYDRA, that Bucky’s never quite been able to shake again. It’s most pronounced on missions, during fights, where Bucky’s unwavering awareness of their surroundings has saved both their asses on multiple occasions.

At home, here in Delacroix, he’s different. To most people, he probably looks relaxed, at ease, but Sam knows better. Sure, yeah, Bucky isn’t constantly on high alert, lets himself be a person instead of a soldier, but that doesn’t magically erase decades of training and torture that have become instinct.

And that instinct shows, in small ways, every day.

The neighbourhood adores Bucky, and Sam is unspeakably grateful to them for bringing him into the fold without questions or judgement, but whenever they’re delighted because Bucky remembers a birthday or some other special occasion, Sam worries. Because Bucky’s genuine with his well-wishes and kindness, but the reason he knows what he knows isn’t the town gossip or new friendships he’s struck up, it’s hours upon hours of research and observation to ensure there isn’t any sort of threat hiding out in plain sight.

There hasn’t been a single broken glass or plate in the house since Bucky’s been staying with them. He always knows exactly where the boys are, if they’re playing outside, and he’s got Sarah’s work schedule memorised down to the minute.

And at times, mostly after particularly bad nights, he can barely let Sam out of his sight.

Bucky has been without control over anything for so long, it’s become something he’s borderline obsessive about, now. They don’t talk about it much, but Sam knows Bucky’s working on it with his new therapist; on sitting back, on letting others be in charge, of themselves and of him, when it’s necessary.

On letting himself be taken care of.

“Sam,” Bucky says, voice hoarse, pulling Sam back out of his own head. “Sam, please.”

“Sorry, baby,” Sam murmurs, and leans down to brush a kiss over Bucky’s slack mouth. “I’m right here, I got you.”

He gives a shallow thrust of his hips that has Bucky moan softly, eyes fluttering, and brushes some of the sweaty hair away from Bucky’s forehead. He kisses the soft skin under Bucky’s left eye as he begins to move again, slow but steady, one hand cupping Bucky’s cheek, and the other trailing teasingly down his chest, lower and lower.

Bucky’s breath hitches when Sam’s hand curls around his straining cock, then he groans low in his throat when Sam starts stroking him in time with his thrusts.

“Ssh, baby, it’s okay.” Sam kisses his cheek, chuckling softly when Bucky turns his head with a whine, demanding more. “I got you, you’re okay. Let go for me, baby.”

He kisses Bucky, properly, and flicks his thumb over the head of Bucky’s cock the next time he pushes in. Bucky’s quiet as he comes, going tense for a long moment, fingers digging into Sam’s back, before he shudders all over, and melts back into the mattress.

“That’s it,” Sam praises, working him through it. “That’s it, baby, that’s perfect.”

He moves to sit back when Bucky’s cock starts to go soft in his hand, and takes a moment to just look, to appreciate. Bucky’s eyes are glassy and damp, his lips red and swollen. He’s got his arms stretched out loosely over his head, fingers twitching absently every now and again, and there’s evidence of his orgasm from his navel up to his chest, a few drops dangerously close to one pebbled nipple.

He looks obscene. He looks absolutely gorgeous, and Sam’s so fucking in love with this man, it’s unreal.

But he knows better than to say as much with his dick still hard inside Bucky, so he settles his hands on Bucky’s hips, and asks, “Okay?”

It takes Bucky a few seconds of blissed-out staring to respond, but then he nods, and rasps out, “Yeah, c’mon.”

Sam doesn’t need to be told twice. He tightens his grip, and starts thrusting again, faster now, chasing his own release. Bucky’s making the most beautiful sounds for him, breathless little ahs with each of Sam’s pushes, back arching, tongue dipping out to lick his bottom lip—

“Shit, Bucky,” Sam curses when he comes, collapsing forward, onto Bucky’s chest. He tucks his face into Bucky’s neck, panting, as Bucky wraps an arm around him, squeezing him. “Gonna kill me, one of these days.”

Bucky’s chuckling as he rolls them over, ignoring Sam’s half-hearted complaints, and lowers himself down to bring their mouths together. They make out unhurriedly, hands roaming lazily, until Sam has to pull away to yawn.

They’re sticky and gross, and Sam’s definitely going to bitch about it tomorrow, but he lets Bucky tug the covers up over them anyway. He grunts at the manhandling when Bucky rolls him over onto his side to spoon up behind him, but lets Bucky take his hand, and link their fingers together.

He falls asleep to the steady, familiar rhythm of Bucky’s breathing.

The temptation to dropkick the guy with the weird, glowy spear right off the roof is really fucking hard to ignore, what with Bucky’s blood still dripping from the thing’s tip. At least the guy looks suitably terrified as Sam stalks towards him, looking up at Sam with wide eyes as he clutches at the bullethole in his shoulder.

Because of course Bucky still manages to shoot someone while he’s in the process of falling off a goddamn three-story building.

Sam has to shake his head against the memory of the sound it had made, the sickening crunch, when Bucky’d hit the ground, of Bucky’s pain-filled scream in his ear right before the comms had gone quiet. He ignores whatever the guy is saying as he kicks away the spear and cuffs him, a little rougher about it than strictly necessary, and takes off as soon as the first SWORD chopper comes into view.

“Torres—”

“We’re in an ambulance, heading West,” Torres answers immediately, “they’re taking him to St Anna’s.”

Swooping higher, Sam finally spots the ambulance’s flashing lights in the distance. “I see you.”

Torres doesn’t say anything else, but he keeps the connection open for Sam. The medics don’t say much, too busy stabilising Bucky, but being able to hear them work—knowing that they’re not giving up on him—is the only thing keeping Sam sane right now.

People part for him like the Red Sea as he storms into the emergency room, and for once, he’s glad to be recognisable when a nurse approaches him with a nod, and a brisque, “Follow me, Captain.”

He’s led to an empty room and given a set of scrubs to change into, which he accepts gratefully. The nurse quirks an apologetic smile at him when he asks about Bucky.

“He’s in surgery right now,” the man, Alexei, tells him, voice full of sympathy. “His right lung was punctured, but at the moment, they’re more worried about potential spinal injuries. Sergeant Barnes was unresponsive when he arrived, but his vitals looked promising, given the circumstances.”

“That’s—okay, yeah.” Sam scrubs trembling hands over his face, taking a few deep breaths. “Thank you.”

Alexei inclines his head with another kind smile. “I’ll let you know the moment there are any new developments.”

Sam’s just changed into the scrubs when there’s a knock on the door, and Torres peeks his head in. He slips inside when he spots Sam, closing it quietly behind himself.

There’s blood all over him, from his neck down to his waist, but most of it on his arms and hands. He’s pale, and trembling, and Sam has pulled him into a tight, bruising hug before he’s even consciously aware of having crossed the room.

Torres grips him back just as hard for several long moments, before he steps back with a wet, shuddering breath. “I’m sorry, I tried to help, to stop the bleeding, but there was so much blood everywhere—”

“It’s not your fault, kid,” Sam cuts in, gentle but firm. He reaches out to squeeze Torres’ shoulders, giving him a little shake. “You hear me? You did everything you were supposed to do, Lieutenant.”

He sends Torres’ off to go clean up in the small ensuite while he goes to find another set of scrubs. While he’s at it, Sam detours to the first snack machine he sees, and buys the most sugary things he can find. He can feel the exhaustion creeping up on him, now that he’s not pumped full of adrenalin anymore, but he refuses to crash.

Not before he knows that Bucky’s okay.

They wait for what feels like hours, sitting next to each other on surprisingly comfortable chairs back in their room, snacking on their candy. Alexei comes by every so often, though he can’t tell them much. Torres’ nods off eventually, slumped against Sam’s side, but Sam stays awake, watching the door.

He still jumps when it finally opens, startling Torres awake as well. They both stand as Bucky is wheeled into the room, followed by a woman who must be the surgeon. She explains the procedure and Bucky’s injuries, but Sam’s brain shuts her out as soon as he hears that Bucky’s out of the woods.

It’s definitely rude, but Sam doesn’t currently have the mental capacity to care. All he can focus on is Bucky. Bucky’s ashen face, and the dark circles under his closed eyes. The coolness of his skin, when Sam takes his hand to press a lingering kiss to the back of it.

He doesn’t notice Alexei and the doctor leaving, or Torres moving closer. Not until Torres tentatively touches his side to guide him into one of the chairs he’s dragged over.

It’s early morning, Torres asleep on the floor this time, when Bucky’s fingers curl around Sam’s, holding on weakly. Sam lets himself cry, then.

“I love you,” he thinks, clutching Bucky’s hand like a lifeline. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“Fuck, shit. Shit, shit, shit,” Sam swears as he sprints across the hall, the hardwood floor way too cold under his feet. “First thing we’re getting is a rug.”

It won’t technically be the first thing they buy, since they’ve already ordered some more furniture online, but it’s too early in the morning for semantics. The point is, the heat hasn’t been turned on yet in their new house, which hadn’t been as much of a problem last night with a human-shaped furnace under the covers with him, but seems like a pretty severe oversight right about now.

The noise Sam makes when an arm sneaks around him from behind, lifting him up and depositing him on a stool at the breakfast bar, definitely isn’t anywhere close to a squeak. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack, man?”

Bucky drops a kiss on his shoulder before he moves back to the stove, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “What, that’s the thanks I get for savin’ your poor feet from frostbite?”

“Well, thank you, honey,” Sam says sweetly, making sure his words are dripping with sarcasm, “I wouldn’t know what to do without you.”

Bucky puts a steaming plate of eggs and bacon in front of him. “Damn right, you wouldn’t,” he preens, waggling his eyebrows, and kisses Sam’s forehead.

“Thank you,” Sam says, a couple of minutes later, genuine this time. He lifts up a forkful of perfectly soft, cheesy eggs when Bucky raises a brow at him. “These are good.”

Bucky just smiles, and hooks his foot around Sam’s. But then the smile turns wider, suddenly, brighter, until he’s laughing quietly, and shaking his head.

“What?” Sam asks, and knocks their knees together when Bucky just keeps giggling, all excited and giddy. “Come on, Buck, what?”

“We got a house,” Bucky manages eventually, biting his lip, though his eyes are still crinkled happily. “Sam, we own a house. Together. For real.”

Warmth blooms in Sam’s chest at that, and he just has to reach out and grasp Bucky’s free hand. “Yeah,” he says, unable not to smile back. “Yeah, we do.”

“Fuckin’ right,” Bucky cheers, which has Sam laughing in turn. He stops abruptly, though, when the next words out of Bucky’s mouth are, “I love you.”

There’s a beat of silence before Sam groans, and throws his hands up in the air. “Are you kidding me? For months I’ve been trying to find the right moment. The perfect moment. I was gonna make it romantic, woo the shit out of you. And you just—”

“Sam, sweetheart.” Bucky sounds amused, mostly, but there’s so much affection there as well, in the soft lines around his eyes, and the way he’s sweeping his metal thumb across the back of Sam’s hand, slow and steady. “I fuckin’ love you, you shithead. An’ I said it first, so, ya know. Deal with it.”

“You’re an asshole, you know that, right?” Sam says, without heat, even as he uses their joint hands to tug Bucky towards him across the bar. “You’re lucky I love you so much.”

“Yeah,” Bucky hums, leaning in close, “I really am. Now shut up, and kiss me, Samuel.”

And for once, Sam sees no reason to argue, and does just that.

#winterfalcon #sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #pov sam wilson #light angst #fluff #smut #love confessions #myfics

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