#i just want to see house betting Wilson to go on rides

[househrt]

there should have been an episode of House M.D. where the cast go to a theme park for plot reasons and then it's half a montage of them going on rides and half some random medical mystery unfolding at the park

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ mad with need ]❜

ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ you want him so bad that you feel like you’re going crazy so he indulges you┊3.0k words

setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: smut!! dom logan & sub reader┊x wade wilson too, age gap, dirty fantasies from a horny reader (who is actually insecure about herself), size difference, no prep we’re dying like nicepool, riding & unprotected piv, breeding/creampie, a bit rushed i need this out my wips

➤ author's note: okay so this is actually the very first logan fic i started, but i have no idea why it took me so long to finish it? it’s a bit all over the place, but i hope some people enjoy anyway!

has he realized you were there and simply testing your self-control, or is he just being so effortlessly sexy again that you aren’t sure if you’re in love or jealous? was there any other reason for him to be laid out on the beat-up couch like something to feast on when he was simply holding a bottle of liquor in one hand to sip on and flipping through the channels of a barely-working box television with a remote in the other? why else would he be so delectable around a known pervert(s, wade is just as bad as you are, just more focused on the possible destruction of his home rather than the pansexual panic between you and logan plaguing him) if not to tempt you?

you’re constantly fawning over the sight of him and letting out dreamy sighs which have become more common lately than you would like to admit, swearing that you could gaze upon him for every second of the day and not tire of it. they say “god gives his most difficult battles to his strongest soldiers”, yet the battle assigned to you is restraining yourself from pouncing on him at the very moment and begging to suck his cock. you know that you’re horny most hours of the day and also kinda a brazen whore, but the way he makes you wet in record time should be worthy of a gold olympic medal.

every time his lips wrap around the rim of the glass bottle, you can’t help but imagine them somewhere else. the image of his handsome face between your legs and scruffy facial hair coated in your slick while he ravishes you haunts your mind whenever you try to sleep, yet the phantom sensation of his tongue on you while his nose stimulates your clit helps you rest in the end. you bet that he would be great at eating pussy too, with his sharp tongue and arrogant attitude— god. 

he’s also so jacked that even when he’s resting, his muscles still seem to bulge with prominent veins like a nurse’s wet dream and it has you downright drooling. now that the sleeves of his suit were gone, you could see how beefy his arms were, and seeing any inch of his skin had you acting up like a victorian man seeing a woman’s ankles for the first time. he could probably crush your skull like an egg if you ever found yourself head-locked in them (you’ve seen him do it to wade out of irritation, and you’ve never been so jealous).

and not to mention how peggable his shapely ass is, there’s really no limit to all the things you want to try with him if you were given the chance—

“are you finished staring?” his gruff voice brought you back to reality, refocusing your vision as he made a slight gesture to his body with one of his rare smirks, “like what you see?” it’s a rhetorical question, he knows how good he looks despite his age and you have already made your attraction towards him well-established. 

you don’t need to say anything, he can tell what you’re thinking as clearly as day, so you don’t bother making any dirty remarks like usual and just walk out the room. you paced around the house for a minute or two to calm yourself down until you eventually ran into wade. “oh my god,” you cupped your face with your hands, eyes becoming big and round as if you were going to cry, “i want him so bad, i feel like i’m gonna lose my mind if i don’t fuck him!”

“well, why haven’t you? i know for a fact that my presence isn’t enough to stop you from climbing him like a tree, so spill it!”

“uhhhh,” you pointed your fingers together to exaggerate self-consciousness, “what if… what if he doesn’t like me and just sees me as some annoying, excessively horny kid?”

“can you believe this bitch?” he scoffed, looking at the invisible audience that was always watching before grabbing your shoulders and violently shaking you, “listen here missy, he definitely likes you— i have yet to see that man smile at anything else that isn’t your face and comments that rival jjk twitter fans in vulgarity! why are you suddenly getting cold feet now when you’re such a player? you’re suddenly screaming, crying, and throwing up over peanut whom you’ve been hitting on non-stop since we found him?!”

“i don’t know! it’s different, he’s my hero, and— i know it’s hard for you to believe, but he’s not even half the asshole my previous flings were. besides, he so fucking hot—”

“yeah, but he’s also so fucking old— his dick is probably all shriveled up—” the sound of the said man clearing his throat made him jump out of his skin, slowly turning his head to look at the older man before giggling nervously and waving his hands around in some form of awkward greeting. even if he can regenerate and wounds are more like papercuts, the last thing he wanted was to get stabbed in the balls by his adamantium claws again for making such a comment. “ahaha, how much did you hear…?”

“enough,” he grunted, turning his attention to you, “and you’re coming with me.”

“huh—?” there was hardly a moment for you to properly react before he suddenly bent down to grab you by the waist and toss you over his shoulder, “you’re not even gonna ask me to dinner first?!” you must have looked like a fish out of the water with how your mouth was agape with surprise, and you heard him genuinely chuckle in amusement. both from the fact that you didn’t see this coming after all you’ve been saying to him as well as the fact that he could pick you up and throw you around like you weighed nothing.

“well, you didn’t exactly greet me with a ‘hello’ before shamelessly undressing me with your eyes when we first met, now did you?” you couldn’t see if he was smiling or not considering that you were upside-down. the current angle only gave you a close-up view of his perfect ass (not that you were complaining, you need to know his squat routine), unsure if the heat on your face was from the embarrassment of him calling you out or simply from the blood rushing to your head.

“what about me? are you lovebirds really going to leave me all by myself, lonely and yearning for the companionship of another while you two fuck like rabbits?”

“ahh, go fuck yourself.” the grin on his face dissipated the moment he opened his mouth, but it wasn’t enough to ruin his mood as he carried you away to the closest bedroom available, quickly flinging you on the bed without a bother to be careful when handling you since he knew that you could and have taken worse as deadpool’s sidekick. “why are you so nervous? think i don’t want you as much as you want me?”

“wait, actually?” your usually confident facade of the overly forward flirt was faltering more and more by the second.

“you’re so busy ogling my body that you haven’t even noticed the way i look at you, huh?” it’s obvious logan was an absolute beast of a man, but when he cages you with his arms between his bulky frame and the mattress, you feel like a little field mouse against a lion. the way your pupils dilate as you look up at him with adorned excitement has him so fucking feral, heat stirring in his stomach and blood rushing to his cock. he traced over your outfit, admiring how the skin-tight leather hugged your curved. “wearing such a slutty little things that leaves nothing to the imagination, and you expected me not to think about pinning you down and fucking you until you pass out?”

you shivered at his words, arousal pooling in your underwear and warmth spreading throughout your body under your skin. this cheeky son of a bitch can smell it too, the sweet smell of desire, sensing how needy you are for his touch and how your pussy is just begging for his attention. 

as much as he wanted to rip your clothing off and pound into you like there was no tomorrow, he wanted to take his time to properly treasure the cute sidekick who has been reminding him how it feels to be a man again, young and unafraid to pursue the woman of his dreams and treat her right the way that countless of others failed to do. (you’re going to laugh hysterically at him later on down the line when you hear him say that, never thinking you could be the object of anyone’s affection past a one-night stand, but the look in his eyes makes you realize he’s telling the truth and you’ll get all flustered over it.) 

you can taste the alcohol from earlier when he kisses you and moan into it, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer, all teeth, tongue, and animalistic want. he ran a hand down your torso to reach the zipper of your suit, undoing it in one swift motion, exposing your bare chest to his eager eyes.

“no bra?”

“i don’t need it when the suit— ah!” 

he cut you off, not caring about the intricacies of how the costume supported everything when he would only get distracted, moving his lips to take one of your perk nipples in his mouth and sucking like it was going to give him milk or something while pinching the other one in between his fingers. he’s like a kid on christmas playing with his new toy: palming at your breasts, cupping and squishing them together, and realizing that his large hands could practically cover them entirely.

“fuckk, you’re so pretty, doll,” he drawled, letting go of your teat with a ‘pop’ and kissing your neck before making you gasp by sinking his teeth into your skin. you gasped at the sudden sensation, deep enough to leave a lasting indent but not deep enough to draw blood, as he soothed the fresh wound by licking it with his tongue. everyone was going to know that you were his, especially that motherfucker he knows is listening in on the other side of the door with his cock in his hands.

 “logan…” you rasp, voice barely above a whisper.

“what is it, princess?” it was a nickname he has used plenty of times, yet it felt completely different in such a sexually charged situation, so much more intimate in a way that you feel your heart racing even faster than before and a rush of energy within. 

“need you…” you murmured.

“come on, a little louder, you need to use your words.” 

“fucking hell,” you covered your face with your hands, trying to ignore the way your cheeks burned, “i need you, logan! i’m gonna go crazy if you don’t fuck me right now!”

“hm, is that so?” he had been resting on his side up until now, laying on his back and lifting you up with both hands under your arms. you found yourself sitting pretty in his lap, straddling him, legs on either side of his waist. “why don’t you work for it then? work for what you wanted so badly this entire time?”

you inhaled sharply, looking down at this fine specimen of a mutant under you made of pure muscle and adamantium with a noticeable tent in his pants, a cocky grin gracing his features daring you to continue. only a fool wouldn’t take up his challenge. biting the inside of your mouth, you began to fully strip yourself of all clothing, kicking it off to the side to be forgotten and showing off your beautiful bare body that logan has been dreaming about since the moment he met you. “take your clothes off too,” you huffed, “it’s not fair for me to be the only one naked.”

he hummed in agreement, taking off the upper half of his yellow and blue-detailed suit, revealing his rippling abs and pecs— age has yet to make a dent in his physique, he doesn’t even look real. he’s not going to remove the bottom half though, both because you’re already on top of him and because you still need to “work for it.” 

experimentally, you rolled your hips on his bulge, feeling a twinge of amusement when he visibly had to clench his jaw to prevent a moan from slipping out. he’s just as pent-up as you are, no matter how hard he’s trying to hide it right now. you fiddled with the metal of his zipper for a moment before pulling it down, motions fidgety with nerves yet still determined to see this through. 

your eyes widen at the sight of his fully erect cock, noting instantly that he’s bigger than any other guy you’ve been with, yet still feeling your mouth water at the size and the vein trailing its underbelly. “is it even going to fit?” you manage to breathe out, reaching out to run a finger over the leaking tip and hearing him hiss.

“only one way to find out, but i think you can take it.” 

placing your hands on his shoulders for balance, you put his theory to the test and raised your body to sink yourself onto him, whimpering at the pleasurable stretch when you manage to make it past the tip. you’re so fucking soaked from your own thoughts and the few minutes of foreplay earlier that you didn’t even need his fingers to prep you, just using your slick as a form of natural lube and feeling him slip into you inch by inch.

“that’s it, doll, just like that,” he praised, the words going right to your head, really enjoying the show of you struggling to take all of him.

“mmhh, lo—” his name came out in a more whiny voice than expected with your eyes rolling back and nails raking into his skin. your thighs were aching with the constant repetitive motion of working yourself up and down his cock, taking one step back for two steps forward, more than halfway there yet unsure if you could handle it all when you felt so impossibly full already.

“shhh, i know, i know, sweetheart— just take your time, i’m not going anywhere.” his words are so sweet despite being a complete asshole by laying back and letting you do all the hard work, hands behind his head and everything while watching his cock slowly disappearing between your folds.

you look at him through glossy half-lidded eyes, brain turned to absolute mush, not even realizing that you had finally taken him to the base and was comfortably nestled on his cock. it took a few moments to adjust to his girth, breathing heavily with the swelling feeling of satisfaction developing within you. you have barely even started, and yet it was already so much better than anything else— he was so much better than anyone else. 

“you okay?” he waits for you to blink to process his words before nodding slightly, letting out a soft ‘yeah’ before your eyes went wide when he suddenly grabbed your waist and positioned you under him once again. you didn’t notice because you went dumb with dick (to put it bluntly), but he had been restraining himself from flipping you over to be on top or trying to buck his hips into you before you were ready. 

he then started thrusting into you at a relentless pace, your hands flying up to his biceps and clinging on for dear life to find purchase. there was no frame to go with this mattress you were resting on, but you were sure it would be banging against the wall until it broke if it was there. your eyes were screwed shut with your head thrown back into the pillow, letting out pathetic pitched moans along with stutters of his name as the orgasm in your stomach builds.

“aah, lo-logan!”

“don’t worry, i got you,” he lazily circled your clit with his thumb, feeling you clench even more tightly at the action, “just let yourself go, relax— cum for me, doll.”

you cried out as your climax washed over you, gushing all over his cock and the pants of his suit that neither of you bothered to take off earlier. it’s a shame that you ruined his clothing so soon when he just got this costume, but honestly, he likes it a lot better when the yellow is stained with the evidence of how good he made you feel.

the way your walls spasmed around him made him quickly follow suit, shooting ribbons of his seed into you and painting your insides white. perhaps he would have been able to hold on for a bit longer when he was younger, but he can’t find himself caring in the least when you were looking up at him like he was everything right now.

he leaned down to kiss you, slowly pulling out of you, being careful not to rest on top of you and crush you under his weight, generally being uncharacteristically sweet towards you in stark comparison to how he was rocking your world like you were the last two souls on earth just a minute ago.

“so… do you like me?” it was the tone he grew accustomed to when you and wade were teasing him, feeling you wrap your arms around him with a sigh and snuggling into his chest.

“yeah… i like you a lot more than you think…”

[bam-bi-buck]

8x04 SPOILERS

Buck 🥰

Gerrard 🤢

Excuse me, that is not Buck’s job, you can’t ask him to choose someone to fire, are you out of your mind?

Love Athena not liking the houses lol

“I’ll know it when I see it”

Bleh, Ortiz for Mayor 🤢

“Who loves being a public servant?”

Everyone reluctantly rasing their hands lol

“Love the enthusiasm” what do you mean Gerrard, you’ve made the firehouse such a lovely place to work

Body cams??

Mama: “bet I know who put the order for that”

Why do you keep saying tight end?

Don’t call him 🥺 Wes needs a hug

Oh Eddie 😭

Wes no!! 😭

Wes you better not die!!! It’s not allowed!!!

I genuinely have no thoughts during this ambulance ride other than aaaaaaaahhhhh

The way Eddie cheers then the soft “you’re gonna be okay kid,” after he called him Dad 😭

“Hell of a save”

“And you got us here”

Love when they all cheer each other

Hen’s speech 😭

But also don’t name drop her girl, that’s such a risk in court

The look of devastation on Karen’s face

Noooo 💔💔💔

No contact why???

This judge sucks

“911 what’s you’re emergency” love Maddie

Also this totally took me out of the scene for a sec, is there something on Maddie’s nose, does she have a nose piercing?

Am I seeing things?

Anyways I’m gonna fight Ortiz and this judge whatever her name is

“I don’t want another house, I want my house” 🥺

Aww Michael name drop

lol how many greats are you gonna say there Bobby?

Hen at Ortiz’s office 😭

“I’m expected to go on, maybe young Mara will have to learn to do the same”

Bitch

“He is not my captain you are my captain”

Yes Hen!!

Love them all coming to Bobby

Bobby’s face when Buck said Gerrard was touching him

Cue the “No, my boy” audio bit

At least we learned that Eddie’s having regular zooms with Chris, even if he’s not talking much in them

Chimney talking about Gerrard’s Ego feels important, they’re gonna use that against him aren’t they?

That’s mean Chimney (his comment about Buck not Gerrard - say all the mean things about Gerrard Chim)

“I wouldn’t call it an attack”

As the nurse is putting bandages all over him 🤣

DUDE

“He wasn’t 400 pounds when I got him, he was an adorable cub”

My mama “well guess what dumbass they get bigger”

“Where’d you learn to do that?”

“I have layers” 🤣

The cat jumps up

Mama: “Surprise!”

No pets

Yeah, wild tigers would fall under that policy, wouldn’t they?

Hen & Chim being separated + Buck & Eddie being separated feels wrong but I love when Buck & Hen get to work together, love the looks they share

“Not so loud the rest of the team thinks it’s an essemble”

“He’s the voice of god around here”

“No not a fan” “That’s Brad Torrence” 🤣

Bobby!!!

“I’m telling you who you should get rid of- yourself!!!

It’s all about his Ego!!!!

I see the pieces!!!

LOVE Bobby scheming

“I’m a dad who doesn’t live under the same roof as his son”

Eddie 😭

Wanna shake Wes’s dad

Gerrard going to Ortiz after talking to Bobby, Bobby charmed… (well maybe Brad did lol) him, didn’t he?

“You know Vincent, we’re a lot alike,”

My mama “jackasses?”

22 million budget reductions for the LAFD seems like a lot

Like for the FD specifically

You’d think you’d want them funded in particular

Excuse me sir

Is there a reason you called her Miss?

Mama: “Oh did the other jackass help? Now I feel bad”

Me: “Don’t feel bad, he’s still a jackass”

“This is a set up”

“It sure as hell is”

A team that schemes together, stays together!!!

Eddie helping Wes 😭

Mara gets to go home!!!! 😭😭😭😭

“Let’s build something new, something just for us” awww 🥰

Welcome back cap poster!!!

“The man the myth the legend” 🤣

I actually don’t mind him being at the Hot Shots job, as long as he isn’t in the 118!!!

HALLOWEEN EPISODE

There goes everyone’s “Bucks the one with a pumpkin on his head” theories lol

Denny!!! No!!! What the hell!!!

Give the Wilsons’ a break, my god!

[crimson--freak]

for the ship game house and wilson (? i think this was his name) :00

Ask Game Here

Gives nose / forehead kisses: Wilson, because he seems like the type of guy to be overly sweet and affectionate.

Gets jealous the most: ooh this is tricky. I think the most obvious answer would be House but I’m going to go with both. House would be jealous the loudest but Wilson would be jealous the longest.

Picks the other up from the bar when they’re too drunk to drive: Amber lol (I’m sorry)

Takes care of on sick days: Wilson would try to look after House when he’s ill, but House would just brush him off :(

Drags the other person out into the water on beach day: House. Wilson would prefer to sit on the beach reading a book. I wouldn’t say House would actually physically drag him but he would tease him until Wilson came to stand on the shoreline.

Gives unprompted massages: Wilson, same reason as prompt one. He’s probably pretty good at giving House’s leg a massage ;)

Drives / rides shotgun: As seen in the many car scenes in the show, Wilson would drive and House would ride shotgun

Brings the other lunch at work: Neither, House just steals Wilson’s food :)

Has the better parental relationship: There’s no doubt that this is Wilson. I wouldn’t take House’s childhood even if you gave me all the money in the world.

Tries to start roleplaying in bed: Also neither. I honestly don’t have a clue for this one.

Embarrassingly drunk dancer: Wilson 100%

Still cries watching Titanic: Both, just that Wilson cries whilst the film is playing and House waits until Wilson’s in the bathroom before he cries.

Firmly believes in couple’s costumes: HOUSE. This man will pick out the most obsure outfits for him and Wilson to wear. Wilson will at first refuse because he’s not a fan of costumes, but he’ll eventually give in to House’s pouts and sulking.

Breaks the expensive gift rule during Christmas: Due to canon stuff, I don’t really see either of them as really celebrating Christmas (and I don’t remember if any gifts were given in the show. Was the book a birthday or Christmas present?) However, I bet House would go overboard with a gift for Wilson on Passover (some nice kitchenware, perhaps).

Makes the other eat breakfast: Wilson. He serves he best breakfasts ever, I’m certain on this

Remembers anniversaries: House. Don’t expect Wilson to remember anything around anniversaries on his own. House will instead pester him at work until Wilson finally remembers.

Brings up having kids: House actually. Wilson would be unsure about House would want, and so probably wouldn’t suggest it (although Wilson is the one who definitely wants kids).

[my-head-is-an-animal]

Problems With The Heart

Greg House x Dr Anna Harding (OFC)

Story Masterlist

Chapter 22 - Betting Pool

I was finally back at work, the antibiotics had made me too tired to go back to work within a week so I ended up taking another off. House was there every day, he played the piano, sometimes I would play one side and he would play the other, we laughed, he helped me start my physiotherapy and reminded me when to take my medication. He would send me a text during the day, even when he had a busy case. He was being kind and considerate.

I hated the shoulder support but it was in fact helping and House kept explaining why it was helping. I hated the lectures, but I liked listening to him try to comfort me.

‘What’s that?’ I asked as he and Wilson stepped into the lift.

‘Magic cat.’ He said.

‘Cool.’ I nodded, not really wanting to entertain him.

‘You heading downstairs for a physio session?’ Wilson asked as I began adjusting my support.

‘Just a check up.’ I shook my head.

‘How’s it going?’

‘Getting there, should be able to get this taken off in a couple of weeks.’

‘That’s good news-‘

‘Oh my god, get a room already.’ House interrupted, making me grin a little. Wilson just looked between us.

‘You two are back together.’ He concluded.

We didn’t say anything and thankfully the lift came to a stop at my floor.

‘Excuse me.’

‘You are, aren’t you?’ Wilson asked as they stepped off on their floor.

‘I don’t know.’ House said as they walked towards his office.

‘What do you mean you don’t know?’

‘How much you got riding on this?’

Wilson was a little taken back. House just nodded and continued walking towards his office. Wilson still didn’t get his answer, but he suspected that they were in fact together.

House really didn’t know if they were together or not, Anna was being polite and asked him for help when she needed him, she asked him to help her with some of her exercises when she’d had a bad day and knew she’d get frustrated and not want to do them herself.

He wanted to do more for her, he wanted to go through the physio for her, take any pain away so she could get back to her usual self.

‘Wilson has money on us being a couple.’ He said as she went through her exercise routine in front of him on the kitchen counter. She was multitasking, reading through a file while they waited for dinner.

‘Did you ask for a cut?’ She asked still looking at the file. House flickered a smile. ‘Shame. Think about it next time.’

‘What if I didn’t need to lie?’ He asked. ‘What if I could say yes next time?’

Anna put the pages down and looked at him, exasperated.

‘I know you want me to say yes,’ she said, trying not to be patronising. ‘But I’m still not sure. Just give me some time.’

House inhaled deeply. ‘Okay.’ He nodded. ‘Keep moving your arm.’

‘Have I upset you?’

He shook his head. ‘No, you haven’t told me anything I didn’t already know.’

‘That doesn’t mean it’s not upsetting.’

House really didn’t want to talk about this anymore. ‘No, but it does mean I don’t have any new ideas.’ He let his hands rest either side of her thighs. ‘Maybe I don’t need more than what we had, but I need more than what we have. We could just go back to the way things were, hang out, get drunk… get high.’

He looked up to see her bright blue eyes were almost black. ‘Greg.’ She breathed. He didn’t hesitate, he pressed his mouth to hers, he felt his body melt into hers as her hands soon came up to his face. She pushed back and kissed him as desperately as he was kissing her, she needed him too, but House knew nothing more could happen, not with her shoulder the way it was.

House slowed down, despite his desire not to, he rested his forehead against hers and listened to her breathing a little heavier.

‘Why did you stop?’ She asked, she knew the answer, they both did.

‘Your shoulder.’ He said and felt her still. It was a lie and this was coming to an end. ‘I should go.’

House gave it a moment, he placed a soft kiss to her cheek and left her apartment, not knowing if he’d ever be back.

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

[lovelenivy]

slides into your asks - what is this i see about a hilson bet??? Or a hilson college au??? Tell me more

OKAY HERE WE GO so the hilson bet fic is actually pretty recent, but ! it's about house trying to get out of clinic duty and the only way cuddy will allow it is if he goes on a date with wilson. the conditions? wilson has to know that it's a date but he isn't allowed to know about the reasons. cuddy doesn't think he can do it. house goes to chase for someone to bounce ideas off of on how to go about it, and that's as far as i got 😭 here's a little snippet:

;

House decides that Cuddy is an evil witch sent from hell to rain misfortune and misery upon his life.

How the hell is he supposed to get Wilson to agree to go on a (real) date with him and then "no homo" his way out of it, without being able to explain why he's doing any of it? A sane person would just accept defeat and continue to work in the clinic, but House is not a sane person, and he really can't stand the clinic. And at this point, he's taken this as a challenge.

House is at his desk when Chase comes in with a potential case for him. House interrupts him halfway through to ask, "Hypothetically, how would you ask out another man that you don't actually want to go on a date with?"

Chase blinks, confused. "What?" he questions, looking both a bit unsettled and stupefied.

House huffs at him, not wanting to repeat the question for obvious reasons. Still, he tries anyway. "How would you–" he begins, but Chase stops him with a wave of the hand.

"No, I heard you, it's just…" Chase trails off, shaking his head. He looks at House as if the older man has lost his mind. "What? What the hell kind of question is that?"

"What do you mean?" House replies, getting a little defensive, but he isn't quite sure why that is. "It's a valid question. How would you ask him?"

"I… wouldn't?" Chase offers as a response, but House frowns. "Why would anybody ask out someone they're not even interested in?"

"Because a month off of clinic duty hangs in the balance?"

;

as for the college au, it's a fic i came up with, with some help from @lovelucigoosey ! basically the idea was that it was a fake dating au set when wilson and house are in college – house is tired of being asked out and "isn't ready for a relationship just yet after things end badly with stacy", so he to lies to cameron and tells her he's seeing someone. he can't ask cuddy to pretend to be his girlfriend because she's friends with cameron. or that's what he tells wilson anyway when he asks him. so, wilson gets to set all of the rules and boundaries AND house has to do whatever he wants when it's all over, but wilson initially refuses. when he later agrees, house tells him he can't take it back and then tells him the real reason – house likes cuddy, and cameron made a bet with him that he couldn't stay in a fake relationship with one of his guy friends until the halloween dance at the end of the next month. everyone has to believe it (except for cameron). if house loses the bet, he has to go on a date with cameron once a week until the end of the year, but if he wins, they stage a break up and she talks to cuddy about her dating house. since wilson can't take it back, they come up with a few rules. the wip ends before the first kiss that's supposed to make everyone aware of their "relationship".

featuring lacrosse cheerleader!house who sucks at driving but has a car and rides a motorcycle anyway, and wilson who writes poetry and is studying hard to be a doctor when his best friend ruins his plans to focus. here's a snippet + the rules:

;

Wilson watches as House starts playing with some stuff on the table. "I need to be honest with you," the older of the two suddenly admits, his ice blue eyes flickering up to meet Wilson's honey browns. Wilson sits up a little, puzzled, eyebrows drawing together as he waits for House to continue. "I sort of lied about the reason I needed you to be my fake boyfriend. Oops."

Wilson frowns, finding himself rather confused now. "Care to elaborate?" he questions, trying not to sound upset even though he is a little ticked off that House lied to him to get him to agree. God only knows what the actual reason is. It makes sense though; that's why things felt off. It's not that House was afraid to come clean to Cameron or anything, it's just that that was a lie too. Definitely seems more like House - Wilson shouldn't be surprised, honestly.

"I knew you probably wouldn't say yes if you knew the real reason," House sighs as if he's bored, leaning back against the window and stretching his legs out across the seat of the booth. "So I told you something different. But I can tell that you knew that something wasn't right and you'd probably figure it out, so here it is." House looks over at Wilson now, almost smirking. "I like Cuddy."

Wilson blinks, not understanding. "You want me to fake-date you…" he starts, trying to make sense of things, "because you like Cuddy?"

"Well, essentially, yes," House replies, crossing his arms over his chest.

Wilson rolls his eyes, his next words full blown sarcasm, "Oh, because that makes a ton of sense."

"Look," House begins, tossing and annoyed glance Wilson's way, "Cameron and I were having a conversation this morning when she suddenly made me a bet. She bet me that I couldn't stay in a fake relationship with one of my guy friends until the Halloween dance late next month, and during that time pretty much everyone has to actually believe we're a couple."

He pauses for a moment as the waitress brings over their drinks, and House quickly takes a sip from the straw. "If I lose – meaning, if someone finds out that it's fake before the dance – then I have to go on a date with Cameron once a week until at least the end of the year. If I win, Cameron will talk to Cuddy and get her to go out with me. I, of course, agreed to the bet, confident that you would help me, but I knew I'd have to tell you something slightly different to get you to agree. And now that we've shaken on it, you have to go through with it." He's smirking now as he adds, "No take-backsies allowed, Jimmy."

Wilson leans back in his seat, baffled and dumbstruck. "You're an idiot," he says after a long moment, and House's smirk falls. "You could've just told me the truth from the beginning and I probably would've been more willing to help you out. Instead, you told another lie and made me think something was wrong with your head."

;

edit: whoops, forgot the rules! here they are

#1: no telling other people that the relationship is fake.

#2: Wilson has to attend all lacrosse games House is attending.

#3: House buys every meal they have together.

#4: first name basis when around others.

#5: no embarrassing pet names.

#6: House has to do any one big thing for Wilson when it's over.

#7: minimal touching only.

#8: no kissing unless necessary/expected.

;

there we go, that's all :D

[potrix-the-queerschlaeger]

boys boys boys

Inspired by this awesome post. I couldn’t resist. Also, I recommend listening to Mötley Crüe’s “Girls Girls Girls” while reading the story. Also available over on AO3.

[Now with a Sam/Bucky sequel!]

*

1

Sam wakes to a loud crash, followed by a string of breathlessly hissed curses. It takes him a moment to remember where he is, and why—on mission, somewhere in the alps, near the border between Switzerland and Italy—but once he does, he rolls over with a tired groan, blindly fumbling for the bedside lamp.

In the dim light it casts, he can make out Bucky crouched by the other bed across the room, picking shards of glass out of a damp spot on the carpet. His shoulders are tense, and he’s carefully avoiding Sam’s gaze, his mouth a thin, unhappy line. It’s too dark for Sam to see, right now, but he’d bet a hefty sum of money on the bags under Bucky’s eyes to be even more pronounced than yesterday.

A quick glance at his phone tells him it’s shortly after four in the morning, meaning they’ll have to be up and ready in less than two hours. Also meaning there’s no point in going back to sleep again.

Yawning, Sam throws back the covers, and slides out of bed. Bucky’s still not looking at him as he heads for the tiny kitchenette in the corner to flick on the kettle. He keeps his back to Bucky while he grabs mugs and tea bags, busying himself with preparing their tea in order to give Bucky at least a semblance of privacy.

(Watch out for the break!)

Sam’s no stranger to night terrors himself, although it’s hard to imagine what kind of horrors plague Bucky’s dreams, on top of the ones everyone in their line of work is unfortunately, intimately familiar with. And Bucky would almost definitely rather bite off and swallow his own tongue than admit it, but Sam’s fairly sure their current location isn’t exactly helping Bucky’s general state of mind, either.

It doesn’t take long for the water to start boiling, but once Sam turns back around, two steaming mugs in hand, the only evidence of what happened are the pieces of the broken water glass in the trash can by the desk. Bucky’s sitting on the bed, back leaned against the wall, knees pulled up, and face buried in his hands.

He lifts his head when Sam plops down next to him, though, taking the proffered mug with a raspy, “Thanks.”

They don’t talk, but after a couple of minutes, once Bucky’s looking a little less wild around the eyes, Sam bumps their shoulders together. Bucky leans into the contact, and they continue to drink their tea in silence.

2

By the time Sam catches up with him, Bucky’s got the last remaining HYDRA agent pinned against the wall by his throat, frantically scrabbling at Bucky’s metal arm as his face turns redder and redder. Sam lands a few feet away, and approaches the remaining distance on foot, hands held up placatingly.

Their objective is to bring this particular guy in alive for questioning. Sam knows this. Bucky knows this. Sam knows that Bucky knows this.

What Sam doesn’t know is if Bucky cares.

The instant they’d stepped foot in this particular base, Bucky’s whole demeanour had changed. He’d blinked at the lab equipment, first in confusion, then in recognition, and Sam had realised they were in for one hell of a bumpy ride.

“Bucky,” he says, quiet, when he comes to a stop at Bucky’s side.

Bucky’s breathing hard, chest heaving, and he bares his teeth in a silent growl before dropping the guy to the floor. “I know.”

Whoever this guy is, he definitely does not know when to quit. He coughs violently, but even though he can barely catch his breath, he spits out, “Желание, Ржавый, Семнадцать—”

Sam winces, but Bucky only rolls his eyes, grunts out, “Will you shut up?” and smashes the guy’s head into the wall, knocking him out cold.

Then he turns to Sam, grins, and announces, “You carry 'im upstairs,” before walking away.

Sam glares at his retreating back. “Man, you've got super strength!”

“You got wings, flyboy!”

“We’re in a bunker!”

“Can’t hear you, gotta speak up!”

“Oh, fu—”

3

Bucky’s sitting at the end of the dock, legs dangling over the edge, bare feet dipped into the water.

Sam loosens his tie as he walks over to him, the bottles of beer Pepper had handed him upon arrival hanging between the fingers of his free hand, clinking together softly. He kicks off his dress shoes once he reaches Bucky, and nudges him with the bottles until he takes them so Sam can pull off his socks.

The water of the lake is pleasantly cool, even in the otherwise sweltering summer heat, making Sam groan out loud when he pushes his feet in. Bucky chuckles quietly as he hands one of the beers back over.

“How bad was it?” Bucky asks, after a couple of minutes. He’s worrying his bottom lip, absently peeling the edge of the label on his bottle.

“A lot of speeches from a lot of people thinking themselves incredibly important.”

That makes Bucky snort out a laugh. “So, Steve woulda hated it, is what you’re sayin'?”

“Oh,” Sam says, equally amused, “definitely, yeah.”

He takes a pull of his beer, eyes wandering over to the willow tree on the shore, and the stone bench sitting in its shadow. They’re too far away for Sam to be able to read the memorial plaques, though if he squints, he can just about see them between the gently swaying branches.

Stark.

Tasha.

Steve.

Bucky comes readily when Sam slings an arm around his shoulders, smiling sadly at Sam’s, “Happy birthday, old man.”

“Happy birthday, Stevie.”

+1

Stakeouts are boring.

And this one especially, since absolutely nothing has happened on any of the three days they’ve been watching the place. Their intel had been frustratingly vague, only alluding to someone with certain information maybe coming to stay at this particular Airbnb sometime this week.

With nothing else to do, Sam checks their perfectly working surveillance devices again, and scowls at the side of Bucky’s head.

Bucky never looks up from his rifle, but mutters an annoyed, “Cut it out,” in Sam’s general direction.

Sam pulls a face at him, but before he can snark something back, Bucky’s phone chimes from his pocket. Bucky startles, and fumbles it out with a clearly embarrassed, “Shit, sorry 'bout that.”

“Look at the professional,” Sam teases, and has to bite back a laugh when Bucky flicks a pebble at him. “Overwhelmed by modern technology, grandpa?”

“Funny,” Bucky says, deadpan, with a roll of his eyes. “Remind me, who was it who forgot to—”

“One time!” Sam cuts in, and throws a pebble back, nailing Bucky in the chest. “And I wasn’t the one who—”

Bucky glowers at him. “That doesn't count!”

“Yes, it most certainly does count,” Sam counters, ready to argue his point, when suddenly— “Wait, wait, hold on!”

“What?” Bucky is frowning, looking from Sam to their target house, then back again. “Somethin’ happening?”

Sam shakes his head, and tries to think of a delicate way to ask the question burning on the tip of his tongue, only to blurt out, “Are you on Grindr right now, man?”

The way Bucky’s entire face goes hot is very telling.

“Look, I was gonna tell ya—”

“No, hey,” Sam is quick to interrupt, reaching over to give Bucky’s arm a reassuring squeeze, “you don’t owe me an explanation, okay? I was just, uh. Let’s go with surprised.”

Bucky ducks his head, but he’s smiling faintly. “‘S not somethin’ I’m used to talkin’ about, is all.”

“Well, if you ever need to talk about it,” Sam spreads his arms in invitation, grinning when Bucky rolls his eyes again, “I’m right here.”

It’s enough to dispel the last of the awkwardness between them. Bucky quirks a brow at Sam, chin propped up on one hand, and flutters his lashes as he asks, “Wanna talk about boys, Wilson?”

“We’ve got the time,” Sam points out, then holds out his hand. “Give me your phone.”

The look that earns him is extremely dubious. “Why?”

“Look,” Sam wiggles his fingers impatiently, “do you want my help, or not?”

“Never asked for it,” Bucky grumbles, but does unlock and hand over his phone. “Just don’t—”

“Open the DMs, yes, got it,” Sam says, grimacing, and frantically presses the back button while Bucky cackles next to him, eyes shining with mirth. “That’s very forward.”

“Oh, he ain’t even the worst one,” Bucky says, looking at the screen over Sam’s shoulder. “What’re you doin’, anyway?”

Scrolling down the list of recent conversations, Sam clicks on the picture of a guy who’s actually showing his face, instead of his thighs or abs. “Figuring out your type.”

He stops swiping when he gets to a picture of the guy in a suit, and tilts the phone so Bucky can see better. “You know, he reminds me of—”

“Nope,” Bucky snatches the phone back, slapping at Sam’s hands when he tries to steal it again, “don’t ruin ‘im for me—”

“You don’t know who—”

“I don’t wanna know!”

“I think you already know he looks like—”

“I will throw you off this roof, Wilson!”

“Bring it on, Barnes!”

[absoloutenonsense]

sunday snippet

Thank you @disgruntledkittenface and @wadey-wilson for tagging me! I have not been doing a lot of my own writing over the last month, so here’s something I’ve been going back and forth on sharing for a while. 

It takes place before the start of my vampire au But If This Ends, and contains spoilers. If you haven’t read it and don’t want the plot to be spoiled, I would skip over reading this! 

*

Two vodka sodas, one gin and tonic, two lagers, one ale, one stout, seven Washington Apple shots. 

It’s a busy night at the bar -- the busiest Harry’s had since he started working here a couple of weeks ago. Jade has been truly wonderful about it, especially seeing as Harry just sort of showed up randomly and asked to see what the whole bar business was about. She’d asked quite a few times why now, and Harry didn’t really have a good answer, other than he’d had the idea take over his mind for the last five years or so and he decided it was time to dive in. 

It’s been hundreds of years since Harry worked in a bar, so he’s a bit rusty, but he finds nothing’s really changed about the job. Make drinks, take money, banter with customers… it’s all stuff he’s good at. He just wasn’t totally sure about the owning portion of it. He’s got various properties around the world (houses and buildings for rent, mostly) but from what he’s heard from Jade, this kind of business is much more hands-on. It might be good for a change of pace. 

“There you are,” Harry says to the group in front of him, placing the last of the seven shots down. 

“Can we open a tab?” one of the blokes says to him, holding his card out like he’s bored already. 

Harry tries not to let the annoyance show on his face as he takes it. “Sure. I’ll keep the card and run it when you’re ready to wrap up.”

The bloke nods, but Harry catches him rolling his eyes as he turns around. He wishes he could do the same, but instead he goes up to Jade at the POS. 

“What’s our policy on eating customers who are rude?” he asks. 

Jade laughs and finishes adding the drinks to the tab open on the screen. “Zero tolerance on eating customers.”

“Even if I Charm them after?”

“Even then.”

“Rats,” Harry says, snapping his fingers. 

She laughs again and pats him on the shoulder. “Just becomes a part of the gig. You’ll get used to it. Luckily, the arseholes are few and far between here.”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” he says, swiping the card before starting to add the drinks he made to the new tab. 

A shiver runs up his spine all of a sudden and everything goes a bit fuzzy as clicks the button for the ale. Shaking himself out of it, he is able to zone back in and look for the shots on the screen. 

“Louis!” he hears Jade say behind him. “How were your holidays?”

“Brilliant, and over much too quickly,” a light, musical voice says. It’s thickly accented and playful. Another shiver up Harry’s back. He pauses, staring at the screen. The voice continues, “I missed you terribly, of course.”

“You’re a liar,” Jade says. “You didn’t miss me one bit.”

“Missed you once the plane landed again,” he laughs. 

Harry wants to turn around. Desperately, he wants to turn around, to check if it’s… but what if it’s not?

“What’re you having?”

“Got anything new since I was in last?”

“Got a raspberry ale on draft. Kind of like a sour, but not as tart.”

“Perfect, I’ll have one of them. I’ve been drinking fruity cocktails for two weeks, that’ll be a nice transition.”

“You got it. H, could you ring up an ale under Zayn and Liam’s tab?”

Without actually deciding to do it, Harry’s head turns, eyes skimming right past Jade until they land on an absolutely stunning shade of blue. 

He’s got brown hair swept across his forehead and scruff covering his sharp jawline. The skin is tanned a beautiful golden shade, giving him a glow and highlighting his defined cheekbones. As soon as they make eye-contact, he smiles wider, crinkles appearing next to his blue eyes as he looks Harry up and down. Harry is immediately hooked into him. 

His sunshine in front of him again, giving off waves and waves of playfulness and curiosity and fun. Harry feels his whole body turn as he smiles back. It hurt so much to say goodbye to Maggie, to have his sunshine here in front of him again after so long… nearly thirty years, he realizes. 

“Harry?” Jade asks, pulling him out of his reverie. 

“Huh?” he hums. After another moment he looks at her, with her raised eyebrow and amused smile. He looks down to her hand, holding the ale. Ale. Right, his job. Adding the beer to the tab. “Sorry, yes. Adding that to a tab.”

“Zayn and Liam’s tab,” she confirms, eyes lit up like this is the funniest thing she’s seen all week. Oh boy. 

“Yes,” Harry says nodding. He looks at his sunshine again before tearing his eyes away back to the screen. 

“Thanks Jade,” he says. 

Harry closes his eyes and takes a few moments to breathe. When he opens them, he finishes adding the drinks to the original tab he created, and then adds the raspberry ale to Zayn and Liam’s tab. 

“His name is Louis,” Jade says, suddenly beside him. 

“Huh?”

“Come off it.” She pushes at his shoulder lightly. “You have that same dopey look on your face as you did that one time I saw you with Elijah.” 

Fuck is it that obvious? Harry supposes he shouldn’t be surprised. He could never keep his cool when it comes to his loves.

“He’s gorgeous, isn’t he?” she continues. “He’s an editor for a food magazine. Been coming here for about ten years now.”

“That’s… um, thank you,” Harry interrupts her. He doesn’t want to be told by anyone but him though. He wants to learn everything he can on his own, savour those moments between them, be able to fall in love the way they usually do. Well, Harry is definitely already in love, but that’s hardly the point. 

“Alright, alright,” Jade says, throwing her hands up. “I’ll leave you to it however you want. Or don’t want.”

Oh, no, Harry definitely wants. His eyes automatically drift around the room until he lands on him. Louis. He’s just now sitting down in the last booth at the end of the room. He tips his head back and laughs at something someone’s said. Harry’s hook lets him hear his voice immediately, like he’s in front of him and not all the way across the room.

“Fucking wankers, leave me be, I only just got back,” he says. 

Others are speaking, but Harry’s so enraptured by Louis that he can’t concentrate long enough to tune into what they’re saying.

“Hm?” he asks. And then he’s turning around, making eye-contact with Harry. He smirks immediately. 

Harry turns away abruptly at being caught. Fuck, that’s not a good first impression, is it?

“Yeah, he’s hot. What’s his deal then?”

There are people waiting to order drinks, but Harry’s not in the right mind to make anything right now. He ducks down and pretends to be looking for something in one of the refrigerators. 

“Ah, I see,” Louis says, voice a bit wary then. 

What is there to see, though? What did they say? Harry scolds himself for not being prepared, even if there was no real way to prepare. 

“Bet I could get him. Tonight even.” A pause. He laughs. “Well yeah, I’m just back from holidays. Still riding that high, aren’t I?” Another pause. “Don’t be such a twat. Watch and learn, boys.”

There’s no more from him then, but the energy is determined and wanting. Harry waits. And waits. And waits--

“Hi,” Louis says. Harry jerks back, catching the top of his head on the bottom lip of the bar as he stands. “Woah, there.” Harry curses and tries to reorient himself quickly as Louis looks on at him, concerned. “You okay?”

“Yep, yes, yeah, I’m fine. Um. Sorry. What, uh, what can I get for you?”

Louis smirks at him, watching Harry rub at the spot he hit before pulling his hand down. “Was hoping you could make some shots for me and my mates.”

“Yes, yeah of course. What would you like?”

Louis bites his lip and looks up from his lashes. Harry feels enraptured by the way the light seems to catch his face seamlessly no matter how he tilts his head. 

“Something new. Something fun,” he says. “Been on my hols and I’m not quite ready to leave that.”

Harry nods, looking down at the way his bottom lip shines for a quarter of a second before looking back to his eyes. “Lemon drops?” he offers. 

Louis shakes his head slowly, eyes bright. “I want something a little more. Something I can feel on my tongue. Something I can savour.”

Harry swallows. “Jager bomb?”

“Mmm,” he hums, thinking. “That certainly would give me a mouthful.”

Harry nods dumbly. Fuck, he needs to get himself together. 

“Alright, then, three Jager bombs,” Louis says. 

Harry immediately starts grabbing the special cups for those shots. He finishes pouring the last of the Red Bull. “Anything else?”

“Yeah, your number, if you don’t mind.”

He takes a deep breath in. “My number?”

Louis nods. “Yeah. I feel like you’ve got a few more suggestions on other things I might like. Not sure we could cover all of them here at the bar.”

His number. Yes, a thousand percent yes. This is the absolute fastest any of his loves have shown direct interest in him, and Harry’s not about to waste even a moment of not being together if Louis doesn’t want to wait. 

“H,” Jade calls out. “We need some help here.” He looks over his shoulder to see a buildup of people waiting to order drinks. 

Right, his fucking job. His job that he got because something was telling him to come here. Someone. God he’s wasted so much of his own time. 

“Sorry,” he calls out. He turns back to Louis, who’s looking him up and down again. “How about I give you my number a bit later? I’ve just got to--”

“Of course,” Louis says, an easy smile on his face. He picks up the shots and turns so he’s looking at Harry over his shoulder. “Come find me when you’re ready.”

[myhockeyworld87]

Bubble Wrapped - Part 1

Word Count: 2,683

POV: Reader

Warnings: Language

Notes: Ok so here is basically our introduction to the Bubble Wrapped story. I have no timeline for this thing or even if it will continue, you guys let me know. As a background, this story will be about life inside Hotel X. In case you don’t know the teams inside Hotel X are the Bruins, Capitals, Flyers, Penguins and Lightning. So here we go, Happy Reading!

You'd been shocked when Hotel X had been picked as one of the hotels for the NHL to stay at when they resumed play in Toronto. Even more so when you were asked if you would take over the management of the place over the next several weeks. "Listen (Y/N) we know we are asking a lot. You'll have to live at the hotel with all the players as the NHL is really trying to keep everyone in this little bubble."

 "I understand. I've already talked to Carly about putting different measures in place when the Maple Leafs came to us before submitting their proposal." Carly was another member of the hotel staff, that served as one of their concierges. She knew the ins and outs of the city and could get tickets or dinner reservations on the drop of a dime. That was all before COVID though. Now, some restaurants were still closed and shows hadn't resumed yet. What once was a bustling city, had come to a dead stop over the last several months, though things were starting to get back to normal; well the new normal that is.

 "So we heard." You hoped the blush that crept up your cheeks couldn't be seen on the zoom call as that had become their new form of communication with you. "You've dealt with the players before, we know you can handle it. Though this time it'll be completely different with five or six teams staying there." Most of the players had always been super nice to the staff, though there were a few that could be demanding at times. You prayed they'd all push their egos aside, at least while in the hotel, though somehow you doubted that. "I think you're familiar with the NHL's protocol on their reopening, but we'll email you everything once we get it. Start putting together the staff that you want. Just some core people that you'll need."

 "I've got the right people in mind, don't worry."

 The call went for a bit longer going over specifics. The only benefit out of the whole thing was that they were giving you the Presidential Suite to stay in. Honestly, it was the least they could do; you thought. Of course, the called ending with them saying, "Don't let us down."

 As soon as it ended you called Carly making sure she was on board. "I'm just saying Car that many hockey players in the hotel; the testosterone is going to be flying around."

 "So what you're telling me is you've already packed an extra-large box of condoms."

 "Carly!" You shouted at your friend. "That's not what I was saying at all."

 "Come on (Y/N), I know you're one of Seguin's regulars when he's in Toronto."

 "I'm one of them because I can keep my mouth shut." It was true that when Tyler was in town during the summer or on a road trip the two of you always hooked up. Sort of a no strings attached relationship, though you did talk from time to time. "Besides he's not even going to be in Toronto. He's in the Edmonton bubble."

 "Oh, I didn't realize." Carly despite being from Canada was not a hockey lover, though she did appreciate the men who played the sport. "Well, maybe you should call him and get the scoop. You know find out who we need to be aware of."

 It wasn't a bad idea, not that you were going to ask him who to sleep with, but maybe it would help get a handle on who was going to be problematic, as there was no way you wanted to let the owners of the hotel down. You had a lot riding on this and after all, you couldn't put bitter rivals in one hotel and not expect some drama. "You're right. I am going to call him."

 "Ooo good, let me know what he says and if we should get more than one box of those condoms."

 You shook your head at your friend before hanging up and dialing Tyler's number. "Hey beautiful, long time no talk," Tyler said and you could almost hear the smile in his voice.

 "Hey Ty, how's quarantine life going?"

 "Ugh, don't get me started. I was not meant to be locked in my house without hockey for this long." Tyler wasn't meant to stay put anywhere too long, including relationships.

 "Well, hockey's almost back so there's that."

 "Yeah, I'm pumped about it, though I wish I was staying in Toronto instead. I know some fun that we could get up to since I have to stay in the bubble." He paused and you could clearly tell he was running different sex scenarios in his head. "I'm assuming your working at the hotel."

 "Yeah, it's kind of why I called. I'm one of the ones trapped in the bubble with you guys."

 Tyler groaned. "So, you called to ask me who you should hook up with? Cause babe, I'm not sure I'm willing to share you like that."

 "Shut up Ty, you know we're not like that. You couldn't stay faithful to one woman if you tried." Part of the reason the two of you got along so good, was the fact that you called him out on his bullshit.

 "I might if I could drag you with me everywhere." You giggled at the insinuation of being taken everywhere just so you could keep him satisfied. "You're definitely gifted with many talents (Y/N)."

 "You're not so bad yourself, but we're getting away from why I called."

 "You mean you didn't call to have phone sex with me," and you could hear his pout.

 "No, I didn't call for that. I was just curious if you had any idea who was going to give me problems while we're in this so-called bubble. I'm trying to be preemptive here."

 "Ok, but if I give you some information you at least have to promise to send me a pic of your tits." You mentally rolled your eyes at him; the boy was a horndog.

 "Fine, now spill some tea."

 "Spill some tea, what is this a gossip blog or something."

 "You're avoiding the question Ty, and I'm putting on a sweatshirt." He groaned.

 "Alright, don't get your panties in a bunch…or maybe do." It never ended with him. "I don't know a lot about some of the younger guys that are newer in the league, but my guess is they're all horny little bastards. Hell, I was when I first got in the league."

 "You still are."

 "Touché." He answered before continuing on. "So, like I probably don't have to mention the rivalries to you, but like Caps and Pens hate each other, the Flyers and Pens hate each other. Doesn't everyone just hate the Pens?"

 "I think you either love them or hate them."

 "That's true," he agreed with your statement. "The Flyers and the Caps hate each other as well and don't get me started with who hates the Bruins. Wow, who really put them all in your hotel?"

 "I'd like to know that as well." It seemed like whoever did, had a warped sense of humor and you were now going to be stuck handling the mess that they'd made. "So, basically what you're saying is that it'll be an all-out brawl at times that I'll have to clean up after."

 "Sorry babe, but I think it could be. On the bright side, we're supposed to stay on our own floors."

 "Like that's going to happen." Maybe you should designate elevators or something because you could just see Alex Ovechkin and Claude Giroux getting in one at the same time and by the time, they got to your lobby they'd both be bloody and beaten. "Anything else I should know?"

 "You seriously want me to go there?"

 "I mean...if you want to." You certainly weren't going to ask but if he offered the information you'd tuck it away for later that's for sure.

 He sighed heavily, "You know I hate this, but like Tom Wilson gets around that's for sure and I've heard that Travis Konecny does as well. If I'm being honest there's maybe been a girl or two that's compared us."

 "Really?"

 "That doesn't mean you have to be one of them, though if you are…you better tell them I'm better."

 "Don't worry Ty, I'll sing your praises. I promise." Obviously, you wouldn't be doing that but it didn't hurt to stroke his ego a bit. "Anyone, to avoid?"

 "Marchy!"

 "Dude, he was like one of your best friends. Why would you say that?"

 "Because I know him. Stay away he's trouble." The fact that you could almost see the look on his face as he was telling you was comical.

 "Fine."

 "Oh and stay away from Carter Hart." The name sounded familiar.

 "The goalie from Philly? Why?"

 "Because you'll corrupt him." You burst out laughing and Ty joined you. "He's too innocent for you."

 "Dually noted, as I do not want to be known as the corruptor of innocents." You searched your mind thinking of anything else you could ask since you had him on the phone. "What about Crosby?"

 "Sid?" and he just couldn't stop laughing; you could even hear him try to catch his breath.

 "Why is that so funny? The man is hot Tyler, whether you want to admit it or not."

 He got serious as he asked, "Who's hotter him or me?"

 Thank god you weren't on FaceTime, so you could answer him without your features giving you away. "You are Ty, of course."

 "I thought so, but like the guy is hockey twenty-four seven. There's no way he's going to be thinking about getting laid."

 "That's disappointing."

 "He's about the only one that I'd give you permission to fuck, only because I know it would be impossible for you to accomplish, even given all your talents." You could hear the mischievous tone in his voice.

 "Hmmm, are you willing to bet on that?"

 "What? Like bet, you'll fuck Crosby in the bubble?"

 "Yeah." Did it really sound like such an unattainable accomplishment?

 "What's the wager?"

 "Winner flies out when this whole COVID shit is done and is the other's sex slave for twenty-four hours."

 "Oh, you are on, baby. I can already see you handcuffed to my bed in some skimpy lingerie." He cackled at the thought and it fueled your resolve to win this bet.

 "Don't be so sure about that."

 "And how am I to know that you actually slept with him?"

 Well, this would be tricky. "Well, it's not like I'm videoing it."

 "No, but that gives me ideas for when I win." Maybe you should be rethinking this gamble.

 "What do you want his underwear?"

 "Nah, you could get that in the laundry. But I'm sure you could sneak a pic of him sleeping." God that sounded creepy but if it meant you had Ty as your slave for a day, it'd be worth it and you'd never show it to anyone else but him and even then you weren't going to send it to him, though he didn't need to know that now.

 "Ok, it's a bet then."

 "Too bad we can't kiss on it."

 "Oh, you'll be doing more than kissing when I win, Seguin." Mentally you started packing sexy outfits to take into the bubble with you while thinking of all the things you'd have Tyler do the next time you saw him. "On that note, I better get my ass to work and make this hotel ready for these guys."

 "Fine, I'll let you go as long as you promise to FaceTime me at some point during this bubble thing."

 "I'm sure I'll have a night open for you at some point." You teased.

 "Woman, you better."

 "No worries Ty, you're still my main man; when you're in town."

 "That's right baby, good luck."

 "Thanks for all the info, Ty. We'll catch up soon and good luck in the playoffs."

 You were just about to hang up when you heard him yell. "Don't forget my titty picture."

 All you could do was shake your head and click end call, though you being a woman of your word, you snapped a quick pic and sent it off to him; to which he responded with a drool face emoji.

 The next couple of weeks were a literal whirlwind as you moved into the hotel's presidential suite and got things ready. Beds were moved out so that some rooms that had two queens now had one king in them. The hotel was disinfected from top to bottom. If felt like you were wearing a hazmat suit all the time during this process. A week before the players arrived the NHL staff did, making sure everything was in order and making sure you had things set up for daily COVID testing. Of course, you had everything well in hand and organized per their instructions, though with a few tweaks that made the process more efficient. Overall, they seemed impressed with everything that you had done.

 All that preparation lead up to the big day, July 26th, when the teams moved in. The league had them spread out so that no two teams were checking in at that same time. Tampa Bay was the first in as they traveled the furthest. "You look nervous. Why are you nervous?" Carly's voice came up from behind you as you saw the bus pulling in through the gates.

 "There's a lot riding on this Car, and if anything goes wrong; you know it's going to be my head that rolls."

 "You're going to do great; this whole thing is going to be smooth like a bubble." She started to giggle. "See what I did there…bubble." You rolled your eyes at your friend but did let out a little snort of laughter at her pun. "Well, here they come."

 You straightened your jacket and smoothed down your skirt, before throwing your mask up to go meet your first arrivals. "Gentlemen, welcome to Hotel X." You tried to speak a little louder than normal hoping the mask didn't muffle your words. "We're excited to have you all here. I'm (Y/N) manager here during your stay, anything you need, feel free to call me any time of day." More of the guys filtered in while you spoke to Coach Cooper and a few of the players.

 "Anytime huh?" you heard someone mumble in the background and a couple of the guys snickered. It was hard not to roll your eyes as you knew they were focusing on them with your face partially covered. Someone else said, "She can manage me anytime." That was until someone cleared their throat, effectively silencing them.

 "Now if you'll follow me, let's get you all checked in." Tables lined with a welcome packet and lanyard with their ID on it, were off to the side and you were able to shuffle them through with pretty good speed, then sent them off to their rooms before they had to head to testing. Your information was inside every packet, in case you were needed at any point during their stay. It seemed like you no sooner got them in and the area disinfected then the next team, the Capitals, were pulling in, and so the day went on until all five teams were safely ensconced in the hotel. Thankfully you made it through that process without any problems, even though the Bruins flight was late and the Flyers were pulling in right as you got the last players through.

 It wasn't until dinner, that you encountered your first dilemma, getting a text message from Alexis, who was coordinating the meals. It was a simple message, Get to conference room 3. NOW! As fast as your heels could take you, you headed down to where the Capitals were supposed to be having dinner if you remembered the schedule correctly. You never expected to see what you did though when you entered.

[wienerbarnes]

Play Dead Until You’re Dead

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 3,149

Warnings: Lowkey angst ngl but nothing too bad

A/N: YAY im so excited for this part bc I've had this in my head for a while now and it gonna change so much for the story but I'm so excited for one shots in the future! also this is kinda not edited ill go through it again tomorrow :) enjoy!

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

A slow knock interrupts your plant watering and you glance at the time. Bucky said he’d be by in the afternoon, not the morning. You place your cup of water down and walk over to the door and open it cautiously before your eyes widen and a gasp escapes you as you see who awaits you on the other side.

Sam Wilson, dressed in civilian clothing, shoots you a smirk, “Why don’t we go for a drive?”

You don’t have time to answer. You don’t have time to think. Your blood is cold, your hands are cold, and your feet are cold as they slip into the sandals you keep by the door. You silently - and anxiously - step out into the hallway and shut the door behind you, never taking your eyes off of Sam.

“After you.” he gestures with a smile. You walk.

…

Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes have a lot of unspoken conversations. Although the rocky start they got off too all those years ago, they’ve grown incredibly close and trust each other like no one else.

So when Bucky calls him late at night, sounding confused, nervous, and unsure, Sam notices. Especially when Bucky then suddenly forgets why he called and what he needed to talk to him about.

Sam’s first thought was that he was drugged. Bucky was given something that clouded his mind. But when Sam saw him the next day, he seemed perfectly fine. So, he proceeded to his second thought.

Bucky was keeping a secret from him.

When Sam was passed the shield, there was one thing each of them asked of each other. Bucky asked to not be a part of the Avengers full time. Sam asked for no secrets and no lying (which he later asked the same from Sharon).

And since then, Bucky has been solely tasked with training new recruits for their seven week training which occurs twice a year, as well as to help on especially difficult cases called to them by the government. And in return, Bucky has not told a single lie to him or kept a single secret. Until now.

So Sam begins to get unimaginably curious. Bucky hasn’t picked up any new hobbies, and after a quick and encrypted check up, none of his extended family have passed away or had anything big happen to them, either. The last thing that Sam can think of to have caused such an odd change in Bucky is a girlfriend. But, if it is a girlfriend, why wouldn’t he tell Sam? Unless, it was someone he knew Sam wouldn’t like.

And that’s when he knew he had to figure out who it was.

So he waited. Until the perfect clue presented itself.

“No, I can’t tonight, man.”

“Why not? I know it’s Friday night, but, what, you got a hot date, or something?”

“Something like that - look, I just have plans I can’t cancel tonight. How about next Friday we go out?”

That was all Sam needed. The plans he couldn’t cancel. So, he waited until later that night and went over to Bucky’s apartment. He’d figure a harmless cock-blocking will teach him not to keep secrets from him anymore.

Until when he put his car into park and gathered his belongings to put them in his pockets, he noticed someone exiting the front of the apartment building; specifically a head of fiery red hair.

Imagine his surprise when he recognizes the face as you.

It doesn’t take long for Sam to figure out where you were. Everyone had already assumed you to be dead, or at least be far away from the country. But now that he knew you were still in New York, a few hours digging into your past and your file led him to a few key locations. From being so separated from society for so long, chances were that you’d find a place you were familiar with, if not the same place, the same area.

Kathleen Grover’s apartment is the first place he checks, but it’s since been turned into higher end condos, a place you probably wouldn’t be able to get away with staying at considering that you probably don’t have an ID or any money. So he checks for the absolute cheapest and low-lying apartments in the neighborhood. Which gives him two results. He just so happened to be lucky on the first one he chose to look into.

Which leads to now, the two of you riding in complete silence, on the way to the Tower, unbeknownst to you.

The only thing that’s going through your mind is Bucky. You hate the idea that he sold you out, because not only would it hurt your feelings, but it would mean those annoying voices in your head would’ve been right.

Yeah, time to put your big girl pants back on. What, you thought you’d live a normal life at some point? Buy a big house? Go out to fancy, populated restaurants? Maybe DisneyWorld? Get a grip! You were always a mistake and a failure. And you’re going right back where you belong, in that box! And Bucky will be right there in that observation room when they stick the needle in your arm and end you for good.

You swallow down the bile that comes up at the thought of going back to prison.

It was fun while it lasted. Decorating the apartment. The tattoos. The new recipes. The movie nights with Bucky. The sleepovers with Bucky. The list with Bucky. The long road trips with Bucky. The music playlists with Bucky. Bucky.

You’ll miss Bucky the most in prison. You’ll think about him everyday. You won’t be able to write him and he won’t be able to write you, not that he’d want to given the fact that he ratted you out, but there was no paper or writing utensils allowed, especially for you.

You’ll dream about his singing when he’d clean, his hugs after waking up, still warm from the sheets, and the unbelievable comfort his eyes provided.

...

“Hey, Sam, how are you?” Bucky absentmindedly answers as he finishes up watering the plants in his living room.

“Hey, man. You busy? Mind meeting me at the tower?” Bucky can hear his car in the background.

“Uh, yea, sure I can. New case?” He asks, setting down his watering kettle and walking towards his room to put on a fresh pair of socks and sneakers. If it’s a new case, there’s no point in getting all done up to listen to Sam debrief him.

“Something like that. Just get here, yea?”

That’s odd.

Normally when Sam calls Bucky about a case, he gives him at least some of the details. That was a part of their plan, their deal. Bucky only joins on missions on special occasions and with specific circumstances. So why wouldn’t Sam give the tiniest hint of what’s going on?

Unless it’s something Bucky’s involved in.

Is Zemo dead? Has he escaped? Some other big Hydra villain that’s come to light?

Bucky’s mouth goes dry like cotton at the thought of something involving you. Did someone recognize you and turn you in? Did Sam find you? No, no, he couldn’t have. The both of you had been so unbelievably careful, there was no way anyone found you.

Bucky lets out a shaky sigh before grabbing his keys and his wallet and heading out.

…

That phone call hurt. Hearing Bucky’s voice, for what will probably be the last time in a long, long time. Even if he betrayed you, even if he turned you in, even if he used you, backstabbed you, whatever. That fifteen second phone call caused an excruciating pain in your heart and it was so hard to hold back tears.

You didn’t want to cry. Captain America and Bucky Barnes had humiliated you enough for you to be crying on the way to the Avengers Tower. They don’t deserve your tears, and you don’t even deserve to be shedding them. This is exactly what you had coming to you.

Although the car ride felt like it lasted hours, the two of you arrived at the Avengers tower sooner than you would have liked.

Sam drove the car up though a back entrance, the back of the building opening up like recognizing Sam’s car. The ride in the elevator was quiet as Sam flashes a crystal-looking card and presses one of the thirty-seven buttons of the building.

He hadn’t put you in handcuffs and it seems he’s chosen a rather secretive way of transporting you here. Granted, you know you wouldn’t win a fight against Sam Wilson, even if you had Marine and HYDRA training under your belt, but, who knows what if you had a knife? Or were secretly an incredibly skilled fighter? What if your powers allowed you to, like, melt people’s brains and he had no idea? That’d probably be your best bet anyway, considering you're in custody at the Avengers Tower in sandals and no bra under your shirt.

The two of you exit out into an empty hallway, quiet, too, you notice. As the two of you approach the end of the hallway, swaying towards the door on the left wall, an interrogation room you deduct from peeking into the small window, a voice stops you.

“Hey, Sam? F.R.I.D.A.Y. told me you’d be here, what’s-”

His voice catches in his throat seeing you and Sam turn around to face him. He feels his eyes widen, his skin pale, his hands become clammy. This can’t be happening. This can not be happening. He walks closer and his steps slow as he’s standing in front of you. He’s literally speechless and as much as he wants to talk, to scream, to question what’s going on, he doesn’t.

His mouth hangs open even though no words come out, and you spit in his face before he gets the chance. He flinches and Sam pushes you into the room before you can react any further.

Bucky wipes your saliva from his cheek and he wants to cry. He wants to choke. He wants to throw a fucking tantrum in the middle of the hallway because he has absolutely no idea what’s going on. He feels a panic attack coming on and uses all of this strength to push it down as Sam exits the room. Relax. Figure out what’s going on so you can fix it; so you can get her the fuck out of here.

“You are going to tell me everything. And I mean everything. Absolutely no one knows that she’s here, or that she’s even alive. Sharon will remain unaware until you give me an explanation.” Sam tells him, his Captain voice taking over, and Bucky silently nods because he’s scared.

This is all so fucked up. And he hopes the truth he’s about to tell Sam will help you more than hurt you.

…

It’s funny how being in a familiar place affects your mind and body, regardless of how long it’s been. In the time that you’ve been in this interrogation room, your nerves have been completely on edge in a way that they haven’t been since being in prison, the voices have returned in your head, chatty as ever, and you haven’t been so angry since you killed that guard all those years ago in that first prison.

You pick and pull at your cuticles until they bleed and chew at the inside of your cheek until you taste metal.

Think they’ll let you decorate your cell this time? Or do you think they’ll just strap you straight into the medical chair and tie your arm up? No need to waste food, water, and a cot on you. Maybe they’ll bring back the electric chair or the firing squad just for this special occasion! Maybe they’ll have Bucky pull the lever-

“Shut up.” You mumble audibly, already feeling a headache coming on.

Spitting at Bucky felt good and bad at the same time. Good, because he deserves it, and more, after doing this to you; giving you the best and freest two and a half years of your life before snatching it all away from you in a second. Did he do it for fun? Did he like the game, the teasing of befriending you, taking care of you, all because he knew he’d do this and have the last laugh in the end?

It felt bad because as much as this sucks, you can’t find it in you hate Bucky. He’s become your best friend, your only friend, someone you actually trust in this new life you’ve been living. You want to forgive him, hug him, tell him it’s okay, that you’re not mad, that you could never be mad at him. Because you couldn’t. And that might actually be the worst part to all of this.

A click interrupts your thoughts and you stare at the Captain as he pulls out the seat across from you and sits down at the small table. How you wish there was a clock in here; how long had you been waiting for him here?

“What are you feelin’ right now?”

“Sorta like how your little wingman Riley felt when he fell out of the fucking sky.” You snap.

Sam doesn’t react. He remembers the way you’d act during the investigation years ago when they would question you in prison; he’d see the way you snap at them, at the guards, at the other inmates, how you’d really dig deep into people feelings and thoughts to say the worst thing to them in order to bring up bad memories. So, he was kind of already expecting that.

You’re upset, that he can tell from your attitude, your chipped and chewed fingernails, and you slouched sitting position, arms crossed across your chest as you lean against the back of the chair. He doesn’t blame you though, he’d probably be pretty upset, too.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., stop all audio and video recording from this room from today and erase it completely from every system, please.”

“Clearance level 1 or 2 necessary for that, Captain.”

“Clearance level 2; Wilson, Samuel T.”

“Thank you, Captain. All recordings have been erased and stopped.”

Huh?

“I have a proposition for you.” Sam begins. Your confusion clouds your mind and you don’t process his statement fast enough to respond before he continues.

“I will announce to the press that your body has been found along the coast of the Pacific after following a lead on your whereabouts, I will clarify that you have been found dead and that you drowned, closing the case looking for you. I will provide you with a new identity; that includes a false birth certificate, passport, and other forms of identification with a new name, new birth date, new everything.”

“Is this a fucking joke?” He ignores you.

“There will be a few rules you will have to follow in return. You will have to stay completely hidden out of the populated public for one full year after this announcement is made. You will have to change your appearance; cut your hair, dye it, whatever. You will stay here at the tower where you will be monitored.”

He pauses, like he knows this will be the part you hate most.

“And you will be required to use your abilities to help on future cases the Avengers are tasked with; the same way you did when we came to you with those two cases in the past.”

You’re silent for a moment, “And if I say no?” Your voice is small. You really don’t want to do this. You want to go back to your apartment, you want your clothes, your plants, your blankets, your mugs.

“Then you will be arrested and sent back to prison, in the same exact place on death row you were before.” Your eyes shut, the headache hitting fully.

“Why.” You demand.

“I talked to Bucky,” A roll of your eyes. “He didn’t rat you out, if that’s what you're thinking. I found you all by myself. And I made Bucky tell me absolutely everything. And from there I’m making the decision myself to offer this to you. It’s not my first time helping a globally wanted criminal. Or my second. Or my third. And it honestly probably won’t be my last at this point.”

Do you believe him? Does it even matter if he’s telling the truth or not? You clearly don’t have a choice here.

He knows this. And depending on how deep he spoke with Bucky, he knows you won’t go back to prison.

“I’ll show you to your quarters. You’ll have your own bathroom and kitchen. Tomorrow morning you will be briefed with your new identity by myself, Bucky, Agent Carter, and Director Fury. F.R.I.D.A.Y will help you with that in the morning.”

The walk was just as miserable as it was when you arrived. You wonder where Bucky is. Does he have a room here? Is he back home in his apartment? Is he coming back? Is he thinking about you? Is he mad that you spit on him?

I mean, probably a little bit. I would be at least.

You take a moment to look around your new room; your new living quarters for pretty much forever. There’s so much stuff; a large bed covered with folded blankets and soft pillows, a folded pair of clothes, a rug beneath your feet that sits under a desk and a large bookshelf, filled with books of differing genres and notebooks, the desk is bare except for a small lamp and a cup of pens and pencil. The kitchenette is to your left and seems to be pretty modern, you can’t imagine it’s missing anything you’d need. The closed door against the wall you assume is your promised bathroom, but you don’t feel like settling in.

It’s strange, living almost all your life with nothing; as a child being poor with your family, having less than that in the Marines, and having nothing in Hydra. When you had your apartment, you had nothing, you cleaned the apartment building to make money to pay your cheap rent, you’d steal your clothes, food, and decorations, everything that Bucky didn’t buy you, anyway.

And now, you’re standing in a room that has everything you’d need, no need to pay rent, supplies and resources at your request; all that’s needed in return is the use of your powers.

But you hate it. All of it.

The colors are dull. The decor is boring. There’s no light. Nothing happy. No colorful blankets, no wacky mugs, no cute earrings, no mismatched socks and labeled underwear with the days of the week. No Bucky.

No Bucky.

[kineticallyanywhere]

I'd love to hear those fusion thots :eyes: the pacific rim ones were V good

If you’ve been around this house for a hot minute you might know that fusion aus are My Entire Jam Garden so you might imagine I’ve already put some thought into this and you would imagine right. The following was brainstormed in consort with @aryashi my second brain. 

The basis for this au is that fusion is possible in the forgotten realms and is just a thing people there can do. This also applies to sudden interdimensional travelers. 

tl;dr I wrote basically a one-shot’s worth of words down there but in short fusion is rad but also there's an unexpected amount of drama. which is basically a summary of the podcast but replace "fusion" with "fatherhood"

(preface: fusion is not a sex metaphor, just like pacific rim. Platonic fusion is normal. Familial fusion is normal. Okay, continue.) 

First inter-dad fusion: “I silence his dumb ass with a kiss” except its “I silence his dumb ass by accidentally fusing our bodies and consiousnesses into a single being w h o o p s” 

I like to name fusions as something other than their romantic ship name so let’s call him… o h yeah we named all of Henry’s fusions after animals. So this guy is Hare (like Darryl). Hare is pretty stable from the outside, but their internal dialogues clash really hard so they're incredibly slow to make decisions. 

Internally, Henry feels like he's crossed Darryls boundaries. They have to hold it, but he lets Darryl take the wheel and all similar mistakes are made. They make it through the thing with the Lance before unfusing. Darryl has no idea what that was and already has a lot of intimacy issues, so he’s not particularly inclined to try that again for funsies. Henry is curious, but there’s a buried part of him that’s making him deeply unsettled by the whole experience. He can barely have a straight thought about it, much less articulate the feeling, so he doesn’t try. He lets it go. 

First sons fusion: When the Lord of Chaos throws back his robe, yelling “Dad! !” it’s a GIANT Lark&Sparrow. They’re like trying to fuse two rubies together, you just get a bigger ruby. This changes a bit later, when the twins start to diverge from each other vis a vis Love Wolfism, but basically the Lord of Chaos is an Oak Twin the size of their dad. But still looks 12. It probably actually takes the Love Wolf speech from Henry and their divergent reactions to get them to unfuse. 

Second inter-dad fusion: That other time Henry and Darryl smooched while high on drug flowers. It was very unpleasant, they don’t talk about it, they don’t try that again for a while. 

They get a book on fusions from the Library that reads almost like a birds and the bees talk and there is minor culture-shock panicking about whether fusion is Like That, but something in Henry is telling him “No. It’s not Like That.” He doesn’t really know why he’s so solid in that belief. He understands that fusion is unique and powerful and a wonderful thing, but something about doing it is just… getting under his skin. 

Third inter-dad fusion: Glenn and Ron. I’m not even sure the exact context or anything. Maybe they were just vibin’. All I really know is that I imagine these two occasionally fuse for the weirdest things, like

Fourth inter-dad fusion: also Glon, fishing magic items out of a giant toilet. They needed to be taller. 

Glon is… gosh, what the heck is Glon. Performative out the ass, for sure. Down for basically anything. Allowed to wear bootie shorts. 

Back up a hot minute though, because first dad-son fusion: almost happens on the Tower of Terry. It comes so close. They’re in that hug, and Ron thinks maybe if they fuse, the magic won’t take TJ. Or even if it takes them both, that’s better than TJ getting taken alone. They don’t have to say “I’m sorry” or “I love you, son” out loud, but before it really takes, Terry gets ripped away. Because Willy can’t have that, can he? 

Fifth inter-dad fusion: is Glon again, but the circumstances are way different because Ron just saw the mummy of his wife and Glenn is trying to help him breeze past it and it works until it doesn’t and they fall apart with Ron a crying mess. 

Sixth inter-dad fusion buckle up because we’ve reached Ravenloft. Before dad-fusion 6, Henry gets caught in his dad’s claws. He feels something very familiar and rejects it with everything he has, and escapes to grab Glenn. Then he gets hit by Calm Emotions, Glenn reaches up, trying not to fall, and Henry is already super chill about everything all of a sudden, so when Glenn tries to fuse out of panic, Henry goes for it. 

Gila—Henry and Glenn—can do actual bard magic. They’re like Opal, in that a single moment of disconnect is enough to snap them apart and finding that disconnect is not difficult. But when the situation is saving their kids and telling their asshole dads to get lost, that’s plenty enough connection to cast an actual magic-ass thunderwave with a guitar and maybe a bit more. 

(Barry didn’t like that.) 

So another fun thing about adding this factor to cannon is that this lets the dads have glimpses inside each other’s heads. So certain conversations could change a little bit. For example, in the van while they’re driving away from the Ravenloft fight and Henry’s explaining a few things. 

Henry: I don't have a lot of memories from that time in my life—  Glenn: Not a lot? Try "not any.” Henry: Glenn—  Glenn: Dude, none of my business, but your brain was weird.  Henry: Glenn.  Glenn: Like did the government get to you when you showed up on earth or—   Henry: Glenn what the fff—rick are you even saying just shut up Darryl: …

Darryl had noticed, too, but Glenn has other fusion experience to compare with. Henry could catch glimpses and imprints and trains of thought which ground in different points of Darryl/Glenn’s entire life, and Glenn and Ron can do that equally with each other. But a bunch of things for Henry, if you try to backtrack to where the decision comes from it just. Stops. Especially with using magic, which Glenn got to do. And Henry’s thoughts on fusion end dead hard. 

(filtering all of this through Freddie’s headcanon that Glenn always figured Henry was from Faerun but was just wildly wrong about all the details is so much fun)

This is the part in the fic series where there’s a one-shot about Henry having a panic attack just outside of the camp at night, and the most he can explain is just that something about seeing his dad again set him off. 

And then we get to a lighter turn for first dad-son fusion but for realsies this time: Ron Stampler nat 20s to hug his son and then also is the son. And that dad. And dads are supposed to be inside to do a ritual for a demon cow. 

RJ is the sweetest dude. Also if you don’t sit on him he will wander off and do the most extreme version of the first thing that comes to his mind for a problem solution or release from boredom. And he will not tell you about it in advance, so seriously. Sit on him. 

So they stand there for a second like "yes... Yes. Yes... Okay. Im... I'm the dad. But I'm the kid? But im. The dad. And all the other dads are also the kid so... Dad... Trumps kid status. And I'm the dad... Cool." and they go in to help with the demon cow. 

The kids are flipping out outside. 

Henry spots them and drops the cage, almost like he’s Garnet and just spotted Stevonnie. While all the other dad’s are freaking out/fawning/curious, Glenn lifts their glasses and theres four eyes and he drops the glasses and never mentions this again. 

Rj: hi um. I'm a dad.... Yeah. So I'm here tooooooo frickin kill a demon cow let's do this Rj: got the good dad vibes comin out of my butt

For realsies though Terry should be outside, so they unfuse for the cow thing and the bbq but then Dennis happens. 

Second dad-son fusion: Dennis: are you sure you've got this?  Ron: i can do it  TJ: he can DO it dad GIVE ME YOUR HAND

RJ’s an arcane trickster and it’s real cool and Dennis looks so jealous ha ha ha and also they separate after the fight and suddenly Terry’s unsettled and needs to talk to Ron for a second because “Hey Dad is Dennis not real????????” 

Third dad-son fusion: is way less eventful, but who the heck can say no to more reasons to cry about the Wilsons at the tail end of the Supper Bowl arc? 

Fusion is not a replacement for talking, but it is a bit smoother in communicating emotions. It doesn’t happen until the end of their talk, when Darryl’s got his arm around Grant. I don’t think either of them are super attached to this whole fusion thing, (If Grant is, it certainly wasn’t his dad he’d been thinking about trying it with. Maybe one of the other kids… “maybe Terry.”) so they may not even pick a name. Henry certainly cries at least twice as hard, but when they want to just get something to eat and maybe just hang out for a while, nobody pushes. 

I think the most important part of this is that it gives Grant a kind of… emotional break. Lets him feel something nice again— like he does in the show, too, but in a way that’s a bit more stable while it lasts. Like the feeling when you’re a kid on a long car ride with your parents, one that ends in getting home late and you’ve fallen asleep and they carry you out of the car. 

Good things for Grant Wilson for til forever. 

Somewhere in that arc, though, Glenn approaches Henry by themselves. Glenn’s not really a feelings guy, but whatever’s going on in Henry’s head is a problem. It’s a one-up the o-dads have on them, and they can’t afford that right now. 

Glenn: so you like... Really don't hardly remember being a kid?  Henry: Glenn, I don't want to talk about it  Glenn: I bet your dad's gonna wanna talk about it  Henry: well... i don't care what he wants  Glenn:... You seriously don't know how you got to earth?  Henry: [exasperated] the frick are you-- I got to earth like anyone else, Glenn. You know where babies come from, right?  Glenn: of course i fucking know where babies come from. A mommy and a daddy love each other very much and then their kid runs away so hard he skips dimensions  Henry: wh-- wait you-- do you think I'm an alien?  Glenn: obviously  Henry: Glenn that's-- [sighs, rubs his face] Glenn this isn't the kind of time for your conspiracies  Glenn: hey as far as I'm concerned, a man who sleeps with an axe under his pillow is a fool every night but one. and you shoot poison from your hands and shape shift into bears

Which adds nicely to the slide of heading to Oakveil next

Henry: y'know what. When we leave here, we can get my kids next.  Glenn: your interdimensional kids  Henry: to prove to you you're being crazy. Again.  Glenn: De Nial is a river man, and we left it back on earth

And one more dialogue bite, because…

Glenn: claim your powers latched onto you from this world all you want. But that language you and your dad spoke, didn't come out of the air, it came out of the door in your head

...fusion means the other dads get to learn about the metaphorical brain door. 

This brings us into the most recent arc, heading into Oakveil. He and Ron sneak in, and Beary tells Henry he’s home, and pieces start to click together. Henry’s from this world, so he understands why he’s had such a particular view on fusion and that basic cultural understanding. That it’s considered normal. And that it’s even normal for a kid’s first fusion to be with their parent. Their parent who loves them and knows them wants to see them grow. 

Bear Ry’Oak is not that. 

First O-dad fusion: Henry’s first fusion was with his dad. 

I think the worst thing is that, when fused with his dad, Hen doesn't feel like he's not himself. one of the interesting things about the Oaks is that they're kind of all slight alterations on the same traits. Like as gross as it feels to admit, Beary is just Henry but with the condescension turned up to a billion and his high horse is basically an elephant and no self-awareness or care for how others might have different perspectives from him

But Beary is still so overwhelming to Henry that it just flattens pretty much anything that makes Henry, Henry. Specifically the parts that Barry dislikes. like Henry's anger. To directly quote Aryashi: “Beary thinks using fusion for combat is barbaric. obviously fusion is for Conflict Resolution. Fuse with Beary so he can sort out your disagreement with him!”

(and then bathe in bleach)

So Beary finds them in Oakveil and Henry starts panicking and he tries to Handle Henry like he did when Henry was a kid, fusing with him to stomp down on his feelings to cut a panic attack or outburst off at the pass. If Henry's in no place to fight back it usually works, but if Ron's there--literally pressed against Henry's back--to see the fusion coming, maybe he reaches for a fusion, too, and lets Henry's instincts choose which pull to follow, and Henry's instincts choose Ron.

Seventh inter-dad fusion: Wren is suddenly there before Beary can even start his attempt to coach Henry through breathing (his half-effort to help Henry and be able to say that he tried freakin hate him) and is sitting on the ground and the disgusted look Beary gets seeing this. (Fusing with an outsider is something he considers so beneath his son.)

Beary:... Ah. Ronald.  Wren, existing, suddenly, and mostly being Ron's processing power as Henry's mental wheels try to slow down to match Ron's pace (cultivated through a childhood of dealing with Willy) rather than amp them both up: uhm... It's just Ron, actually Beary: would you mind... (there's other people around so he can't say "decontaminating") liberating my son. (as if ignoring the role his son had in choosing this fusion over his) Wren: Henry is uh... (me? Not me? Yes me, not up for this, we should go somewhere else that usually works fine, we can just leave and find the others and that'll be fine) he's good. We're good, we're gonna... (looking at the other people who look like Henry and the "not amping each other up” thing is working less and less)  Wren: bye

And then they just stand up and fast-walk away

Wren is either chill af and rolling with every punch or the living equivalent of a coke bottle that you popped a whole roll of mentos in and then closed immediately. At this moment, it’s very much the coke bottle side. Beary lets them go because he knows Henry will be back, and they make it just outside of town to where the others have just shown up before they fall apart. 

Ron: We found the door!  Darryl: what door?  Ron: the one in Henry's head!  And all the dads know what he's talking about Glenn: did you open it?  Henry: no  Ron: a little bit  Henry(probably now starting that panic attack): the anchors in there  Ron: his dad came out of it  Darryl: his dad???????? Henry, vulnerability, Oak: I AM FEELING VERY VULNERABLE RIGHT NOW AND I HATE IT  [chorus of mumbled sorrys] Ron: oh also Oakvale is Henry's home Darryl: WHAT Glenn: Uh hey anyone gonna pick up the phone cause I FUCKIN CALLED IT Henry: That's not my home! My home is with Mercedes back on Earth! Glenn: Yeah, this is just where you were born.  Henry: Glenn I swear to God-- Glenn: Dude lay off, I was agreeing with you! Home's where the heart meds are and all that jazz Darryl: Wait, you have heart meds? At home? When was the last time you took your heart meds? Glenn: Uhh... not since I came here? It's fiiiiiine. Never felt better! Ron: Not to interrupt but Henry's on the ground breathing funny. Glenn, are you sure you don't have any heart meds? Henry: being hugged by both of his sons in a simultaneous way that is not their normal simultaneous way (i.e. the Lord of Chaos way): WHY ARE MY SONS TALLER THAN ME Glenn: I'm more surprised that they're hugging you  Lord of Chaos: to assert dominance! Any moment now, we will turn this hug into a suplex!

And that basically brings us to now? I want a Triple Oak Fusion (the King of Chaos) but with how the fight with Beary went I’m not sure where it’ll go. OH YEAH. 

Autumn stopped fusing with Hen even when he was a kid because she couldn’t stand to see how much her son craved the approval of that evil man who stole her life away. And whether or not Henry ever fuses with anyone ever again after finding out he’s got Eldritch in him has gotta be up in the air. 

And at this point I could easily be convinced that the next inter-dad fusion is Darryl and Glenn, those beautiful idiots. They could be… Denn. Glarryl? We’ll workshop it. 

[xaidyl]

You could explain individual stuff! I find these explanations very fascinating, actually! OwO

okay! lets do this (this may be a very long post with lots of my random opinions but we’ll go with it) (and also please bear in mind these are jokey and in no real way a representation of these real people with real actual lives.)

***spoilers for most D20 seasons with this cast***

1.The babysitting 

Actual parent:Brennan 

From my experience DMing, you are effectively a parent to the players. He would also be an excellent dad

Wine aunt: Siobhan

Siobhan gives me vibes of someone who would take a bottle of wine to go babysit, then sit and tell the kids stuff about cults that they weren’t meant to hear. She would definitely teach the kids swear words, and they would love their cool auntie 

Great at babysitting: Lou

Part of the key to babysitting is being relatable to the kids, but also self assured enough to get them to behave. the person who holds that key is Lou Wilson. He also has played dad-energy characters, and that is the kind of vibes that you look for in a babysitter. 

Mediocre at babysitting: Murph

This scenario needs some theatre of the mind. Imagine Murph, he’s read all the babysitting books, he knows everything he could need to know, he lives with Emily Axeford. He’s more than prepared for this task. He tries so hard. The kids love him. The kids also walk all over him. They don’t get to bed in time. He wanted to do a good job. He tried so hard to do a good job. Yet somehow, luck is against him. 

The house is on fire, God is dead: Emily

Fig. Sofia. Jet. All three of these characters would set a house on fire without hesitation, and not one fears God. What does this have to do with Emily’s babysitting ability? Well, all these characters are teaching us to be chaotic beings, just like Emily. We are the children, and D20 is our babysitter. Emily would only replicate the same thing in this babysitting scenario. 

The children: Zac and Ally

I believe it was episode 9 of the unsleeping city. Neither Zac nor Ally were involved in the scene in question. Siobhan makes a reference to Eliza Doolittle, to which Zac makes a Dr Doolittle joke. Beardsley then shouts ‘I can see my dick’, a reference to a different film. This is fairly normal behaviour, and would not make either of them children in this scenario, had they not continued to hysterically laugh for the next ten minutes or so. Sat at opposite sides of the table. I think Zac starts crying at some point. They are absolute children, and also both have strong baby energy. Neither babysit, they are the ones that need babysitting. 

2. Can they be killed?

Cannot be killed: Brennan

The man is a God. Enough said. Also I’m pretty sure your body would reject your soul before it allows you to kill him. 

Can only be killed by one thing: Siobhan

You would be tricked into thinking Siobhan would be easy to kill- her constitution score is so low, after all. However, you would be wrong. The low constitution score has only made her stronger. More aware. What is the one thing that can kill her, though? Nobody knows, she’s only told those she truly trusts. It could be the most rare poison in the world. Or it could just be Mike Trapp. He (allegedly) has previous.

Can be killed but it won’t last: Emily

It is not anything to do with Emily that her death won’t last. In fact, Emily would be pretty easy to kill. However, if you kill her, Murph will do everything in his power to bring her back. He travels to the end of the earth, and then Emily Axeford is back and gets her new death date in a fancy gothic necklace.

Can be killed but at what cost?: Lou

What cost? The cost to the world. The world would be significantly worse off. You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself. It’s not worth it.

Can be killed but it’s not worth it: Murph

It’s not worth killing Murph because you would have precisely 0.7 seconds before you were killed by Emily. There is no way you can profit from this scenario, you would be dead before you even realise you’ve been successful. 

Can be killed and it would be pretty funny: Zac

I feel like we don’t discus the correlation between Zac Oyama characters and dying enough. Gorgug was the first D20 death. Lapain was the first D20 perma death. Ricky just like had a weapon that causes him to die. If you killed Zac, it would just be funny because its happened so much. Sorry Zac.

Can be killed but why would you, you monster?!?!: Ally

We’ve already discussed this. Beardsley is Baby. Leave them alone. 

Please kill them they suck: Box of Doom

I dont trust them

3. The fitness gram pacer test

this is definitely the most controversial of the charts, but there’s three of things you need to understand about my reasoning.

1. Zac is fast at running  

This has been seen a couple of times, namely: adventuring party, where Zac tried to tease Brennan about showing off how fast he his at running, but it turns out it was just Zac speaking his mind, and he is the one who always shows off at how fast he is at running. Also, the video on Siobhan’s instagram of Zac jumping over that table. 

He is also very bad a squats. Why would you be bad at squats? Bad knees. Why would you get bad knees? Running without sufficient warm up. Why would you skip warm up? Because you are very focussed on being able to run fast. 

2. Zac is willing to defend his title of running fast

The way he accused Brennan on adventuring party, he knew what he was doing. Sabotage. Brennan may also be able to run fast, but Zac would prevent him from getting a good score. How? He has his ways. Zac is a good boy, but not when it comes to running fast.

3. I felt bad

I had to give Zac at least one good one :)

Anyways onto the other choices:

Actually tried and got a low score: Brennan, Murph, Siobhan

We’ve already spoken about how Zac sabotaged Brennan to be the best at running. Murph is here because he would try really hard but something unlucky would happen. His shoelaces come untied. He accidentally gets caught in the Zac/Brennan feud. 

Siobhan started off with the intention to try, but after Lou, Emily and Ally had all done, she realised they were in fact much more interesting than the fighting going on. She walks out mid lap 

Didn’t try, got a low score, doesn’t give a shit: Lou and Emily

Its important to understand that both Lou and Emily are capable of getting a high score, they are just better than the whole thing. Why is their DnD group doing a pacer test? Why did Zac suspiciously force them to do this whole thing? 

The difference between them is Lou knows the feud is stupid and has like actual work to do? He sits and auditions for some other big film. He still watches over his laptop. 

Emily however, simply wants to watch the world burn.

Despite their different approaches to the situation, they both have a bet going on who’s going to be the fastest runner.

Ran one singular lap and finished: Ally

Ally Beardsley shows up at the track wearing a rainbow bucket hat and a tie dye shirt that is impracticable to run in. They have a llama with them. At no point do they explain this. They walk round the track once, drink their water from a plant pot, then spend the rest of the time cheering on the others with words that don’t quite make sense. 

4. Storming Area 51

They cant stop us all: Zac and Brennan

Neither mean it maliciously, but both believe entirely in what they are saying. 

Brennan is definitely the guy to go mad over a conspiracy theory. He made all the crown of candy NPCs. He is basically betraying himself. He knows not to trust anyone. He doesn’t trust area 51. The next season of dimension 20 is this as a subliminal messages all the way through. 

Zac says it accidentally. He’s making a character for the charity livestream. He’s still got a hundred hours of character making left. He’s done so many bad squats. Unintentionally, he makes a character that forces all the zesbians to storm area 51. 

Have fun getting shot, dumbasses: Lou

The rest of the cast are being weird again. Lou is equally as capable of being weird, but sometimes they need to chill. It starts with Emily talking about diner ice. It finishes with Brennan wearing a foil hat at all times. 

You guys stop, someones actually gonna do it: Murph

Murph is a good, lawful boy.

Actually shows up: Emily and Siobhan

They ride a motorcycle there together. They wouldn’t have gone alone, but as a duo they are an unstoppable pair. Emily wants to break into a government facility. Siobhan desperately want to be in the real life x-files.

One of the Aliens: Ally

Emily and Siobhan open a door at area 51. Behind it is Ally Beardsley. They are wearing a rainbow bucket hat and a tie dye shirt. They have a llama standing behind them. This is not explained at any point. They drink from a flower pot and eat a quesadilla that appears out of nowhere. 

5. Stabbing 

Would never stab anyone: Murph

Murph is a good, lawful boy

Would stab in retaliation: Lou, Murph, Zac

Lets be honest, the entirety of a crown of candy so far has been these three taking stabs (or metaphorical ‘where is your bulb now’ stabs) as retaliation for a stab another one of these three had done.

Yells “I won’t hesitate bitch” first: Ally and Siobhan

I can’t really explain this one much more other than i’m pretty sure both these people have said this phrase at least once in their life.

Would stab as a warning: Emily

This would be promptly followed by Murph getting her to stop stabbing. Or, depending on the situation, encouraging her to keep stabbing.

6. The water fountain

Fills up a bottle and drinks from it: Lou and Siobhan

This is the normal way to drink from the water fountain. They were also both very concerned at watching Beardsley’s various different drinking apparatuses in adventuring party. 

Bought 4 water bottles so this wouldn’t happen: Murph

He is prepared. Something probably still goes wrong, but at least he’s got three water bottles left. 

Drinks straight from the tap: Brennan

Brennan is a busy guy. The tap is there, it’s convenient, he needs to get back to planning. There’s so many campaigns, so many characters, so many voices. 

Dehydrates: Zac

Honestly I’m not sure if this man would drink water if nobody told him so

Drinks from a puddle: Ally

like they drink from a vase with a flower, a puddle really isn’t that much of a stretch.

Licks the tap: Emily

She just wants to see the world burn. Also, she knows Brennan drinks straight from the tap. She has to get payback somehow. 

7. A child starts crying

Makes the child laugh: Lou

We’ve already discussed how Lou has dad energy. I feel like he’s know exactly what to say and how to act to get the child to stop crying. This is less stupid than the rest of my explanations, but I always love how expressive Lou is when he plays dnd. I’m not sure whether its the way he holds himself or the way he gestures, but I’m pretty sure if I was a crying child, I would stop crying if Lou Wilson told me a joke in that very soothing point.

Tries to play with the child: Siobhan and Ally

These two kinda give me older/younger sibling vibes. As a team I recon they could create a game that would calm this child down. Also Ally knows techniques to help adults calm down, they could probably implement these ideas into a game for children.

Gives detailed instructions: Murph

His knowledge comes from the books he has read to learn how to babysit, and the one time he babysat. His explanation is rather frantic however, mostly because he is trying to defend Emily in his answer.

Cries with the child: Zac

He’s sad because all his friends are speaking to this child an nobody noticed how fast he just ran.

He’s also baby, as we’ve said previously, so he probably relates to the child somewhat

The reason the child is crying: Emily and Brennan

The child just watched episode 9 of a crown of candy. 

[simmonsofshield]

Broken, Mended

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Sam Wilson x Reader (platonic)

Summary: After breaking off an engagement, Y/N may have possibly hit rock bottom. But she doesn’t have time to think about it because she gets deployed to Iraq. Leaving their daughter with her friend, Sam Wilson, she’s gone for a year. She doesn’t like talking about her ex-fiance and is unsure if she’ll ever be able to love again. What happens a certain Captain is his literal doppleganger?

Words: 1700+

Warnings: mentions of murder? it’s knives out, yall.

A/N:  Y/N was engaged to Ransom. Spoilers for Knives Out in this first part. This is for @ussgallifreyfics​ 550 follower writing challenge! Congrats! And you’re already over 700? Way to go!! I chose the prompts home and roses. Takes place during Civil War.

tag list is open

Flashback Y/N sits in one of the many ornate chairs in the livingroom, tears streaming down her face. Joni tries to comfort her while Linda holds her now 3 year old, Rosemary. Ransom runs after her trying to stutter out an excuse, not that he could. Detective Benoit Blanc and Marta both figured out it was him who killed Harlan, there was nothing that he could do that would get her to forgive him.

“Y/N, baby, please just listen to me.”

“No, Hugh. This-This is-ugh! How could you do something like this when we have a child? Linda, would you-” Linda nods and walks out of the room with Rosemary still in her arms. Y/N continues, “How am I supposed to explain to her that Daddy’s in jail and never going to see him again?”

He gives her an exasperated look that said ‘you’re ridiculous,’ “Never? Babe, come on. I’m going to get the best lawyers on my case and I’ll probably get no jail time. I’ll be in and out of court in a matter of days.”

“You literally killed your grandfather, Hugh.”

“Don’t call me Hugh. Only the help calls me that.”

“The help? Are you serious? God, were you always this insufferable and I just didn’t see it? After all this you don’t deserve to be called Ransom. And you know, I love your whole family. They’ve been great helping you with Rosemary while I’ve been gone. Your mother I can clearly tell has enjoyed all the grandma time...”

He speaks through clenched teeth, “What are you saying?”

Y/N begins to take the beautiful ring that has been on her finger or around her neck for the last three years. “I’m saying that it’s over, Hugh.” 

She takes it fully off and walks over to him, setting it on the entryway table beside him. Now in cuffs, he just stares at it and back at her. She can tell he’s upset, maybe a little heartbroken, but not a single tear falls from his face. Noticing this just breaks her more. She backs away as tears begin welling up in her eyes.

“I really did love you.”

And with that the cops take him out and put him in the back of their car. 

The family has their own drama now having to deal with Harlan giving literally everything to Marta and nothing to them. In that sense, Y/N is relieved to not be tied to them anymore. Though she is still going to miss them.

She picks up her phone and calls one of the only people she would at a time like this. “Hello?” “Sergeant. How are you on this fine day?” “Better now that I’m talking to one of my favorite people.” She can hear the smile on his face. “How are you, Y/N?” “Fine, Sammy.” He knows what she really means when the nickname is used. “Y/N, what happened? Do you need me to pick you up?” “No. It’s okay, I have a car. Is that spare room still open though?” “Always for you.” A sad smile appears on her face. “Rosemary and I may need it for a few days.” “When will you be here?” “Later tonight. I’ll text when I’m close.” “Okay, see you then.” “Bye, Sammy. Thanks.” And with that she hangs up.

“Mama?” 

She wipes away any remaining tears and turns with the best smile she can muster, looking down at the light of her life. “Yes, flower?”

“Who were you talking to?”

“An old army buddy. Do you remember Sam? You met him about a year and a half ago.”

“Mm-mm.” she shakes her little head.

“That’s okay. Would you like to meet him again?”

“Is he in Afstan?”

“Afghanistan?” Y/N chuckles, “No, he’s in DC. Just a car ride away.”

“Then yes! I want to remember him.”

“Okay! Well, there’s no time like the present, so why don’t we pack up our things and put them in the car?”

“What about Gramma, and daddy, and Marta, and Megan, and-”

She cuts off her daughter, “Whoa there. There’s a lot going on right now after Paba went to heaven. They have a lot to work out. We can help them by going on vacation to see Sam.”

That seems to satisfy the 3 year old. She runs up the stairs to her room to begin packing, “Okay! Let’s go then!”

Present day Three. That’s how many tours Y/N has been on now. Not that she doesn’t like it. She loves serving her country. But, it’s just too much time away from her daughter. Years she’s missed out on her daughter growing up. She explains as good as she can and hopes that her daughter understands. Mommy leaving a year at a time and having to stay with Uncle Sam is a lot for a toddler’s mind to take in, however. 

Slowly opening her eyes, Y/N stretches as good as she can in the cramped plane seating. She opens the small shade and looks out the plane window. Water, but she has a feeling they’re close. She slept for a while. Not a moment later, the flight attendant’s voice comes over the intercom. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are beginning our descent into Virginia, Washington Dulles International Airport. We should land at approximately 5:50pm, which is just under an hour from now. Please turn off any electronics and stay seated and buckled up until we land and the seatbelt sign is turned off. Thank you for flying United and we welcome you to America and our Nation’s capital.”

The next hour is filled with nervous excitement as Y/N thinks about finally being home and seeing her Rosemary again. It had been a long, hard year in Iraq and she was ready to relax and have a fun summer with her and Sam.

They land and everyone files off the plane. As she walks through the airport, she gets a few salutes and ‘thanks for your service.’ She just smiles back as she looks for something to eat. After doing so, she beelines for baggage claim. Coming down the escalator, she sees many posters welcoming family members and other soldiers home. It doesn’t take long for her to find the one made for her. Bright blonde curls are holding it as best she can above her head and it makes Y/N laugh. It says Welcome Home Mommy! in gold glitter on bright pink paper. Not hard to miss. Little arms quickly bring it down as she trades the poster for what Sam was holding before running over to her.

Y/N crouches down, arms out as her little one barrels into her. Happy tears run down both their faces. 

“Mommy, mommy, look!” she hands the flowers over so she can wipe her face. “They’re called roses. Aren’t they pretty?”

“They're beautiful, baby.”

“They have my name in it!”

She laughs, “They sure do.” 

She stands up, carrying the bouquet in one hand, holding her daughter’s hand with the other as they walk to Sam. “Got anything for me?”

“Uh, no.”

She takes a sharp inhale, “Gotta step up your game, Wilson. You’re getting beat out by a four year old.”

He hangs his head in mock defeat but quickly brings it back up with his signature gap-toothed grin. She knocks shoulders with him as they continue their walk to baggage claim.

“So how has this year been with Sam, little one?” Y/N asks as they drive back to his place. “Was it so much fun?”

“Yeah! Did you know I turned four while you were gone?”

Y/N gasped, “No! I thought you looked taller.”

“Yeah! And on my birthday, Uncle Sam let my bestest best friends come to his house.”

“Ooh, I bet that was fun.” She side-eyes Sam who is smiling but shaking his head. She assumes having a bunch of kindergarteners is his house was not something he expected to ever happen.

“It was amazing!”

“How’s kindergarten going?”

“Good.” she answers with a shrug, “we’re learning letters and colors and shapes and how to count to a hundred.”

“Wow. You’re going to be smarter than me someday.”

She looks at her daughter in the rearview mirror who is just smiling. Only a few minutes pass before she’s out in her carseat. As if he was waiting for this moment, Sam speaks, “So, how was it?”

Y/N shrugs, “The usual, I guess. Nothing to report.”

“Okay.” he nods slightly “Can we talk about the other thing then?”

Y/N sighs, “Now?” she asks, trying to avoid the upcoming conversation.

“When else, Y/N? You avoid it by spending most of your time with Ro, and at night you don’t want to because you’re ‘too tired.’”

“I was just on a really long flight, Sam-”

“No. I don’t want to demand it out of you but don’t you think you owe me an explanation? I opened my house to you for five months, then I had to spend a year with your daughter and everyone thinking she’s mine, and having to explain that ‘no, mom’s in the army and i’m just looking after her.’”

“And you think that me telling you what happened in Boston is going to make your life easier? Sorry to be such an inconvenience.” Y/N asks, defensively.

He takes a deep breath, “You’re not. I’m sorry. It’s just, I let it go when you showed up because whatever happened was fresh. But then time kept going by and I thought you would bring it up on your own and you never did.”

She lets out the breath she’d been holding and nods slowly, “Yeah, well it was a lot to process. I’m going to give you the short version because that’s all I have the energy for right now.”

“I’ll take whatever you give me.”

She closes her eyes and takes another breath, “I’m sure you figured it out but I broke off the engagement with Ransom.”

“I did notice a lack of a ring when you first came. It must’ve been bad huh? You did love the guy.”

“Really bad.”

And he accepts that for now.

[porkchop-ao3]

A Thrill I’ve Never Known (Chapter 57)

Agent Wilson

This one’s a pretty long one, I hope it makes up for the week I missed. Just a warning for some mild sexual references, and there’s a little angst too. I hope you enjoy! Shit’s about to kick off lemme tell you :P

I really hope the formatting of this isn’t fucked up somehow. I’m having some computer problems and I don't have chrome installed right now so I’m using Microsoft edge, and it seems a little different when pasting this stuff in. Idk. Hopefully it’s fine. 

Tagging @emily-strange ❤

(All chapters tagged with #ATINK and also posted on Ao3, username PorkChop)

-

Our campsite was thankfully untouched after our short trip away, though there wasn't really much worth stealing anyway, besides an old tent. When we arrived back, Arthur immediately started cooking up some of the wolf meat for us, some generous slabs that he seasoned with oregano for a little more flavour. It smelled delicious, I hadn't noticed how hungry I'd become, and I was salivating long before it was ready to eat.

"You feeling a little better now that you've had a night away?" He asked me.

"My head feels clearer,” I nodded, "feel like I can breathe again. I'm not really looking forward to going back but I know we have to.”

"We'll be fine. It'll all have been forgotten about, just like when I kicked his teeth in."

"Do you think I should apologise, clear the air?" I asked. Arthur chuckled, then realised I was seriously asking.

"If it'd make you feel better, then– but that tells him that you were in the wrong, and he'll go 'round thinking that he can just get away with doing what he wants. Including touching you, which I ain't having. If you hadn't throttled him, I would've, and I certainly wouldn't've apologised," he said, spearing some cooked meat on a fork and handing it to me. I thanked him and blew on it to cool it.

"You're right. He shouldn't've touched me," I said.

"I'd say just steer clear. Don't let him pull you in, just ignore anything he says. He ain't worth it," he advised, and I let his words sink in. He was right.

"How long do you think we could get away with staying out here?" I asked. He glanced up at me from the fresh lump of meat he was cooking over the fire. He thought for a while.

"I think," he began slowly, then sighed, a guilty look appearing on his face, "I gotta see Dutch today. I promised Charles I'd go and speak to Rains Fall, but then I gotta meet a few people from Wapiti and Dutch. He's got something planned with Eagle Flies, wants me to be there."

"What's Dutch wanna do with him?" I questioned, then took a bite of meat.

"I… I don't know. It don't feel right; I got a feeling he's planning on using him and the situation his people're in as some kind of opportunity," he sighed. I frowned deeply. "It's an ugly business, I'm hoping I can help keep things from getting too out of hand."

"Out of hand, how?"

"Like if Eagle Flies and the others fight back hard enough, it might only land them in more trouble. Rains Fall can see that, but his son's a little hard to convince, apparently."

I nodded in recognition. "Charles told me a little of this while you were away, he was helping them back then. I feel like I should do something–"

"No. Not now Dutch has his hands on the situation, I don't want you near it. 'Sides, your leg ain't healed yet. I bet Susan'll have some words for both of us when we get back as it is," he was quick to respond. I exhaled and looked away. "But anyway, all this means I gotta head off soon."

My heart thumped. "What if I wanted to stay?"

Arthur's mouth opened but nothing came out for a few long moments. "Well, if you wanted to, I couldn't stop you."

I looked down and considered it as an option for a while, chewing and swallowing some more food before continuing. "We could ride back, then I'll pick up a few extra things from camp and come back here while you go and do what you've gotta do. Then I guess, if you wanna come here again when you're done, you can," I suggested. "But that's up to you. I just don't feel ready to go back yet."

"You'll be okay out here alone, with your injury? With the wolves?” He asked, not doubtful, but genuinely asking.

"I think so. I'll have my rifle, and I'll keep my wits about me," I told him, though my confidence did waver a bit at the mention of wolves, "maybe I'll even go and drop in on Mrs. Balfour tomorrow."

"Yeah?" He smiled a little.

"You think that'd be okay? Or should I– maybe she don't want to see me. You're the one who helped her, after all," I murmured, finishing off my food.

"I think she'd appreciate it," he nodded his head, biting into his own cooked meat and speaking only after he'd swallowed, "she ain't had a good time of it. She could use some kindness."

"I'm a little worried about her, not being able to hunt."

"We'll do something about that," he reassured me.

"You're a sweet man, Arthur. Ain't many men who'd help a woman like that, 'least not without wanting something in return," I said, and he shrugged dismissively. "I'm serious. You're a gem. You helped me get out safely that night in Blackwater. You helped Penelope get away with her love. And you're helping Charlotte. And Mrs. Downes–"

"Mrs. Downes wouldn't need help if it weren't for me, and Strauss' scams," he cut me off. I exhaled quietly.

"Don't, Arthur. You're always denying the good things people say about you," I shook my head. He kept his eyes on mine for a while, his mouth open a little, but he never spoke. "You're a gem," I repeated.

He didn't respond, but he exhaled something close to a laugh and a bashful smile appeared on his face. He continued eating his breakfast, finishing off the chunk of meat speared by his knife. When he was done he reached into his satchel and pulled out his journal, crossing his legs and flicking through the pages until he came upon a blank one. I watched him idly as he started jotting things down inside. Curiosity got the better of me.

"What're you writing about?" I asked him. He cleared his throat and made me wait a while before answering.

"About last night," he said. I thought back, mind filtering through our evening until it settled on what we'd done in his tent. I imagined myself pressed up against his back, my hand inside his union suit, pressing kisses to his neck and his shoulder as he hummed out quiet moans, the slick sound of my hand on him just barely audible. My face flushed warm.

"About what I…" I trailed off. His face was blank for a moment, then he laughed at the realisation.

"No, not that," he said. "Just about what happened with Micah, how we came out here. How nice it was to be alone again, you know, I always miss this when we're back at camp," he elaborated, looking up at me.

"Yeah me too," I nodded.

"I will come back here after I've done what I've gotta do. We'll spend another night here together, at least."

"That makes me happy," I beamed, shuffling close to him and hugging his arm, leaning my head on his shoulder. Arthur went back to writing, I didn't read what he put but I was touched that he didn't mind that I was so close while he wrote. But I did glance down as he started flicking back through the book; I just wanted to see more of his lovely drawings. One page caught my eye; it was full of drawings of birds, but none like I'd seen in person before, only in artwork. They looked exotic. I stopped him on that page, and enquired about them.

"These were in Guarma. When I came back, I wrote down everything I remembered. Drew some things too," he explained. "The whole island was full of parrots. Brightest coloured feathers I ever saw, these drawings don't do 'em justice."

"Well, I think they're beautiful, even without the colour," I told him, leaning closer to inspect his sketches. A whole spread of them, some close ups of their heads, others of them taking flight, they were all lovely. I was glad to see that something nice had come out of the whole ordeal. "You haven't spoken much about Guarma," I said gingerly.

Arthur nodded, and he was still for a moment.

"It weren't easy talking about it when I first got back," he admitted. I was careful with how I phrased my next question, not wanting to pressure him.

"If you ever wanted to talk about it, you know I'm here, right?"

"Yeah, I know. Just felt like too much to go into. None of it was nice, I don't want you getting upset about it," he revealed. My lips parted silently, and it took me some time to know what to say.

"I know you're alive and you're okay. So, I couldn't get too upset now," I said.

"I don't remember much from the first day or two," he said, "but I think they're easier to talk about."

"Yeah?" I shifted, sitting upright so I could look at him.

"The boat went down in the night. We were all sleeping and suddenly we had to get up, the sea was so choppy; we was getting thrown around like ragdolls. Anyway, we got split up. Dutch and the others got out on a boat, but I… didn't," he began. I frowned deeply at the revelation but let him carry on. "That's when things get hazy. I know I went into the water but I don't know nothing about how I lived long enough to wash up on that island,

"Nor do I remember much about what I did when I got there. Think I just walked, looking for people. Eventually I saw smoke and I followed it; that's how I regrouped with the others. But we got captured soon after that. Javier got shot, we went off with some feller, weren't from Guarma. Hercule, his name was. And that's– that's when–"

Arthur stopped and he was frowning. I reached over and squeezed his knee.

"Well, I said I'd help with some situation the workers on the island was in. Reckon I got shot by a tranquilizer dart, woke up to getting the shit smacked out of me by some angry feller," he shook his head. "Anyway, we all ended up helping Hercule with some things, he was getting us a boat off the island."

"What sort of things?"

Arthur shook his head and exhaled audibly, "fighting against Fussar, the man who was in charge. He was at the party at the mayor's house, believe it or not. Maybe you saw him, he was the one with all the medals and whatnot," he gestured to his chest and I thought back. I had vague recollections of such a man, but I hadn't paid much attention at the time.

"Yeah, I think," I nodded.

"Dutch and I saved Javier from where him and his army were keeping him, then, to cut a long story short, I killed him. He knew who we was and weren't letting us off the island, so he had to go. Though my sense is the world will be a better place without him, anyway."

"And then you came back?"

"And then we came back," he nodded. He sighed heavily, then met my eyes. "That's about it, summed up. I also blew up a warship with a cannon, watched Dutch strangle an old lady to death, and saw way more of Micah's pot-belly than I ever needed to. So yeah, it weren't a nice trip, and every day I just wanted to be back home."

I couldn't even laugh at the slice of humour Arthur tried to bring in about Micah's stomach. I reached for him, squeezing his upper arm and stroking it comfortingly.

"That's a lot to go through," I whispered. He stared at me for a moment, his eyes widened slightly, mouth parted a little. He looked stunned. Sad. Like he was realising that yes, it was a lot to go through. Then he exhaled sharply and looked away.

"Well, least I got to see a tropical island. Probably never would've seen anything like it otherwise, never mind what Dutch says about us all being mango farmers," it was a poor attempt at finding a silver lining, just like my thoughts about Arthur's beautiful drawings. I didn't take away from it, though.

"Yeah, at least there's that," I leaned over and kissed his shoulder.

"Dare I say it might've been quite nice if I'd gone there on purpose, and you were there too, and there weren't no Fussar bullshit to deal with," he breathed a laugh. "Even so, ain't thinking of going back."

"I'm content with Blackwater being the most exotic and far out place I've ever visited," I chuckled, and he joined me.

"Anyway, I better get going. Shall we pack up? We'll do like you said, head back and I'll get Jet, then you can come back here with some fresh clothes and some more food. We've even got some pelts for Pearson so he can't whine too much about his helper leaving with a few cans of vegetables."

"Sure, though I feel a little bad now you put it like that," I murmured.

"Don't. I damn well paid for most of it anyway," he told me with a bitter, annoyed edge to his voice that almost made me smile because it seemed to me, if only for a second, Arthur was accepting all he did for the gang. And how sometimes, it wasn't fair.

"Is there anything I can do for you, lighten the load a little?"

"No–" he began automatically, then paused. "Actually, I got some stuff needs selling to a fence, jewellery and the like. John told me all those months ago that you was good with bartering with the trapper, maybe a clever, pretty lady like you'll get a better deal than me."

"I'll give it my best shot," I grinned.

We got moving, deconstructing our little camp and putting out the fire. We rode back to Beaver Hollow, and when we hitched Rayna up with the other horses, Arthur stopped to kiss me once before telling me where he was keeping the jewellery, and asking me to be discreet when I retrieved it. He headed straight off, telling me to be safe and promising to return to me later on at Brandywine Drop. I watched him ride off on his own horse before walking into camp.

My heart was pounding. I scanned the place, seeing people glance up from what they were doing to look at me. They didn't stare or say anything, and I quickly realised that things were just as Arthur had assured me; people had pretty much forgotten about my outburst and weren't at all bothered. But then again, Micah wasn't around, and I did wonder if he would have something to say next time we crossed paths.

I went straight to Pearson's wagon, finding the man himself sitting behind it smoking a cigarette. He seemed pretty down most days, quiet and morose but irritable when bothered. I trod carefully when I approached him.

"Morning, Mr. Pearson," I said. He lifted his head, addressing me with a mildly surprised gaze.

"Ahh, there she is. Thought you weren't coming back, the way you left yesterday," he chuckled.

"Mm, not my finest hour," I sighed leaning up against the wagon and pressing my boot against a stone on the ground, pressing it into the mud. "Being stuck at camp, doing nothing, maybe I went a little stir crazy."

"You feeling better now?" He asked. I pursed my lips and met his eyes.

"A little," I said. "I uh, I'm gonna spend another day away from camp. Arthur and I are sleeping up at Brandywine Drop."

His brows raised a little, "oh, okay. You want me to tell Dutch when he gets back–"

"No. You needn't say anything to anyone. I just thought it'd be a good idea for someone to know where we are," I shrugged. "Mind if I steal a little food?"

He sighed, but waved a hand towards the wagon.

"Thank you," I smiled at him sweetly and he chuckled, shaking his head at me.

I rounded the wagon and gathered a couple of things; some canned sweetcorn, biscuits, ground coffee and some strawberries for something sweet. We wouldn't need a lot of food, we still had plenty of meat left from the wolves and I knew I could forage some carrots and berries around the river as well if need be.

"By the way, I have some meat and some pelts for you," I called to Pearson. I heard him shuffle and grunt as he pushed himself to his feet and rounded the wagon to join me. "Three wolf pelts. There's some meat wrapped up in the saddlebag, on Rayna."

"Thank god," he breathed, and started heading towards the horses, "was starting to think we'd have to start eating each other."

"Just leave enough for me and Arthur," I called to him, slipping away the supplies in my satchel and then heading across the camp to our tent.

I pulled some fresh clothes from my suitcase, laying them out on the bed, then bent down to Arthur's own chest. I retrieved some clothes for him too, placed them with mine, then reached right to the bottom of his chest until I felt the drawstring bag he'd mentioned to me. I discreetly pulled it out and placed it on top of our clothes, rolling it up to create a nice little bundle that would fit into my saddlebag.

"Are you leaving?" John asked, calling out from his place at the campfire.

"Yeah," I answered simply.

"Shit, does Arthur know?" He exclaimed, getting up and coming over. I looked at him with a mild frown.

"Arthur's coming with me," I told him. He stared with his mouth hanging open, and I was so confused until I replayed the conversation in my head and realised what he thought I meant. "Oh, we're not leaving leaving, for good. Just another night."

"Oh, right," he exhaled, a hand smacking to his chest. He blew through his pursed lips and chuckled. "Had me worried for a second."

"Don't worry, if we leave we'll be sure to drag you kicking and screaming, too," I said, half joking.

"Right," he laughed, shaking his head. "Anyway, how'd it feel to have your hands round Micah's neck?"

"They weren't there long enough to really take notice," I sighed, tucking the bundle of clothes under my arm. "I couldn't say."

"You could try, sure would be nice to find out," he smirked. I rolled my eyes with a sigh.

"Where is he anyway?" I asked.

John glanced around. "I don't know. Probably out there terrorising some poor innocent folk."

"How's he been? I mean, has he said much about what happened?"

"Not really. Everything kind of just went back to normal once you and Arthur left, you know how it is."

"Good," I nodded. "And Dutch?"

"Dutch," he scoffed, "he still ain't speaking to me, much. Not like I really want him to."

"I wonder who he hates more, you or me," I snorted. "Anyway, I gotta go. Have an errand to run, then I'm heading back out for another night. Just need time away, try and pull myself together."

"You okay on your own?"

"Course," I smiled, "Arthur said he'd join me later on, he's got plenty to do today."

"Well, you just take care, alright?" He patted my arm. "If anything happened to you, Morgan would be hell to live with."

I breathed a laugh and shook my head at him. I wrapped my free arm around his shoulders and pulled him in for a hug. He made a surprised grunt, but returned my hug quickly, if a little awkwardly.

"John, I'm… I'm real glad I met you," I whispered.

"Yeah, me too, Miss," he replied quietly, almost shyly, patting my back before releasing me. I stepped back and looked up at him. The little smile he wore made me chuckle, it was clear he wasn't used to much friendly affection.

"I'll see you later," I told him, then ducked out from under the cover of the tent.

"Sure," he nodded, watching me go.

-

I hitched Rayna up outside the saloon in Van Horn, figuring I could go for a short drink after selling the jewellery. I dug the drawstring bag of treasure out of my saddlebag, tucking it into my satchel before feeding Rayna an apple.

"Won't be long, baby," I whispered to her, patting her neck.

I headed along the path towards the edge of Van Horn, taking a breath and becoming reacquainted with the place after such a long time. It looked even more run down than the last time I'd visited, and I almost couldn't believe that I used to like the place. It still had that weird, out of the way, different feel to it, which I guess was part of its charm. It was a real unique place.

I reached the end of the wooden boardwalk where the fence was situated, and entered. I was greeted by a thick Scottish accent.

"Hello there," he said, his tone cheery.

"Hey, mister. How you doing today?" I asked, giving him a big smile.

"Not too bad, yourself? That's a nasty limp you've got," he noted, nodding towards my leg. I might've hammed it up a bit on my way in, in a bid to appeal to his sympathetic side.

"Oh, I got burned," I told him a little breathlessly. That was genuine; I was surprised how much energy it took to move around when I was conscious of my injury. "But I'm… I'm fine."

"You sure? You need help with that bag?" He nodded towards the canvas drawstring tucked under my arm, and I shook my head.

"I got it. It's actually what I came to show you; got some things to sell," I told him, putting the bag down on the counter, hearing the clink of its contents. I pulled open the drawstring and reached inside, not even fully aware what was in there, just that Arthur had collected it all over the past few months and hadn't had the chance to sell it before the Guarma situation. Penelope's bracelet was somewhere inside; her reward for all of his help.

I pulled out the first thing my hand touched; a smaller bag. It was filled with assorted rings, earrings, pearls.

"I usually buy bundles like that for fifty," the fence told me, "I don't have time to go through the whole lot and value individually."

"Sure, okay, but just for this little bag. There's more in here, some is worth far more than that," I told him, getting my insistence in early, making sure he knew I wasn't going to accept pittance. I flipped the bigger canvas bag and gently emptied it onto the counter.

Inside, I counted seven gold rings, a pocket watch, a necklace that appeared to be platinum, a sapphire encrusted bracelet that I guessed was Penelope's…And rather disturbingly, a gold tooth. The fence inspected the lot, checking for markings, its condition. He picked up Penelope's bracelet, scrutinising it more closely, watching the light dance within the stunning blue stones.

"This is really nice. I won't ask how you acquired it," he said, and I had to chuckle considering it was probably the most honestly acquired of the bunch. He never said a word about the tooth. "I'll give you seventy-five for the bracelet. The other stuff… one hundred."

"A hundred and seventy-five for the whole lot? But this is platinum. And the pocket watch and all the rest of it is gold. You can do a little better than that, sir. That bracelet's gotta be worth a hundred on its own," I raised my brows at him. He met my eyes over the bracelet and chuckled.

"I can do one-eight-five," he offered. I pursed my lips, clasping my hands together and tilting my head at him. He laughed again, shaking his head at me. He put the bracelet down and stared at the lot.

"You can do two-hundred. You know you can," I said cheekily. He blew a jet of air between his lips, brows jumping. "Pretty please?"

"You're gonna try sweet-talking me, Miss?" He accused, humoured.

"What do you say? A tidy two-hundred?" I offered my hand out. He considered, looking at my outstretched hand.

"Two-hundred…" he muttered, then roughly took my hand, shaking it once.

"Yes! Thank you, sir!" I cheered, clapping my hands together.

"Since you're so polite," he murmured, turning to his register and opening it up. He counted out the money and handed it over. I tucked it away in the bottom of my bag, and was as aware of it as I was the revolver at my hip.

"Much appreciated, you take care, now," I nodded at him, spinning on my heel and heading out before he had the chance to change his mind.

"You too, madam, watch that leg," he called, and I smiled over my shoulder at him.

I took a deep breath of the salty air, smiling on the sharp exhale, and started heading back up the boardwalk towards dry land. I headed for the saloon, where Rayna was still hitched. I gave her a rub on the neck before stepping up onto the deck and entering the saloon. I glanced around once I was inside; spotting a mix of characters. Mostly drunk locals lounging about the place, a couple of women, and some more sharply dressed men at the back of the room. I took a spot at the bar, leaning my elbows on it and greeting the lady serving.

"Can I get a beer, please?" I asked, sliding a coin across the bar. She cracked open the cap of a bottle and placed it in front of me, "thanks," I added.

I took a first sip, sighing out at the quiet moment in the saloon. Well, it wasn't quiet, the place was full of chatter and noise, but quiet in the sense that it was normal. I was just sitting at a bar, having a drink, on my own. Something I hadn't done since before I joined the Van Der Linde gang. Not that for a second I missed this kind of life, not once Arthur and I grew close, but it was a nice if not strange reprieve from my new reality.

"Whiskey, please, ma'am," one of the well dressed men from the back of the room appeared beside me. He was quiet while he waited for his drink, but I sensed him looking at me. I wasn't in the mood to speak to anyone, so I kept my eyes on my beer.

"Here you go, officer," the barmaid said as she handed him his drink, and my heart thumped.

"You just come in, Miss?" He asked, and I knew he was speaking to me. I lifted my head. The gentleman was raven-haired and had skin so pale it was almost sickly, a pair of waxy, dull grey eyes and a large mole on his cheek. He wore a clean suit and his hair bore the flattened style of someone who wore a hat until sitting down at a table.

"Uh, yeah. Couple minutes ago," I nodded, then averted my eyes.

"My colleagues and I did the rounds already; we're asking folks around here a few questions. There's been a criminal gang pass through these parts," he said. My lips parted and my eyes widened, a gasp sucking in without my permission. "You alright, Miss?"

"Is… is it safe to be here?" I asked, straightening up and looking around anxiously.

He breathed a laugh and smiled reassuringly. "Me and those fellers back there," he turned and glanced their way, and I followed his gaze. "We're with the Pinkerton Detective Agency. It's our job to keep people safe, while we're around, you ain't got nothing to worry about."

"Well, that sure is a relief," I exhaled, hoping my nerves wouldn't seem suspicious, given the circumstance.

"We're here mostly to ensure the people of Van Horn remain vigilant while these people are in the area, and also to make them aware that there's people they can report to should they notice anything odd," he continued, taking a sip of whiskey with his pause, "are you aware of the Van Der Linde gang, Miss?"

"Well, sure, I've read the name in the papers. I try not to get too caught up in it, however, frays my nerves," I told him. "But it's never been so close to home before," I shook my head.

"We understand that the gang's leader and four other men passed through here when they arrived back in the country via boat. They were in the state of Lemoyne for some time, and after a raid of their settlement they… they escaped capture and we believe they headed up this way. We're patrolling the area, but we're asking that people sound the alarm if they spot any of the people we're looking for. I have some photographs," he told me, reaching into his inner jacket pocket.

"You do?" I murmured quietly, looking at him through the corner of my eye as I sipped my beer– well, pretended to. I couldn't trust myself to swallow it without choking while I was so tense.

The Pinkerton placed a pile of small photographs in front of me. On the top of the stack, was Dutch.

"These men do not make up the entirety of the gang, there is a group of more than twenty men, women… and children," he sighed, then tapped on Dutch's face, "all following Dutch Van Der Linde."

"More than twenty? That's a big group. And you ain't managed to track 'em down yet?" I cocked a brow at him.

He chuckled at my criticism, droning some excuses while I ceased to listen, picking up the photographs and shuffling through them. They were all mugshots; Javier, Bill, John, Charles… of course, Arthur. I stared at his photo, his straight, unhappy face, his cold, level gaze, his strong jaw and lips pressed tight together in a threatening line. He was him, but so different to the version of him I was familiar with. This was the way they saw him.

"Do you recognise this man?" The Pinkerton's words pulled me out of my head and I met his eyes. My lips parted but I struggled to find something to say.

"No, he's just–" I stammered, looking back at the photo, "I realise it may be inappropriate given what a terrible man he is, but I can't help but notice what a handsome face he has," I breathed a laugh.

He hummed, polite but with distaste. He took the photos back and put them away in his pocket. "You're not the first woman to have made such comments. I would've hoped they'd have more sense, or better taste."

Something flickered in me. A twinge of possession. It reared its ugly head now and again and each time I battered it into submission.

"He's probably awful, though. A pretty face means nothing, then," I said, the corner of my lip curling up. I was suddenly having a little fun talking to the enemy, while he had absolutely no idea who I was. "I couldn't imagine how awful it'd be to be courted by such a man. To run with that gang. All those awful, heartless men," I tutted.

"This is the sort of poison we're trying to save America from. These outlaws, they– they tarnish this land. Take all that is pure and stain it with the blood of the innocent, and all the while do it with an entitled sense of invincibility as if they are free from all consequence. How they live like that and still sleep at night is beyond me."

"Beyond me," I agreed, nodding slowly. "It's terrible."

"We have had small victories, however. A member of the Van Der Linde gang was shot dead in the streets of Saint Denis last month; Hosea Matthews," he told me. My stomach turned and I looked at him, trying not to let him anger me. "I was told the others watched it, he died right in front of them," his mean laugh made me want to knock his block off.

"That so?" I hummed.

"They said the look on Van Der Linde's face was better than any paycheck," his teeth practically shone with his grin and I looked at them, wondering what it'd be like to see him picking them up off the floor. I would never try it, of course.

"Well, Mr…” I began, offering my hand to him.

"Mr. Wilson," he took my hand and shook it.

"It's been a pleasure talking with you, but I must get going," I said.

"Of course. And it's been a pleasure talking to you too, Miss…" he replied, and I didn't answer his prompt to give him my name. Not even my alias. I just took my beer and walked out the door.

I paused for a moment outside, bringing the bottle to my lips and gulping down the last of it, tossing the empty bottle aside carelessly before striding over to Rayna and mounting her, side-saddle. I clicked at her, turning her away from the hitching post and onto the road, away from the agents.

[heypasstheegg]

Willowson prompt: finding each other/meeting after getting out of the Constant

This one took forever for some reason but it’s done!!

It’s also not very good sorry

--

“He looks like this!”

Willow held up her crudely drawn picture of Wilson for the officer in front of her to see. Not her first choice by a long shot, talking to a cop, but she didn’t think anybody in Woodstock was going to give her too hard a time. And anyway, she’d been talking to strangers an awful long time...

Despite the artist’s rendering being less than lifelike ( Sketch-Wilson’s hair was wilder than normal, more like a lit campfire than Willow had really intended, she had possibly gone overboard on his shallow, sunken eyes, and also one ear was higher up on his head than the other), recognition flashed on his ginger, pudgy face. “Ah, the Ghoul.”

Willow bristled. “What?”

“Bit of an oddball.” The cop took the paper in his hands a moment and inspected the image a bit closer. He didn’t comment on her change in attitude, thankfully. Bad form on Willow’s part, but it had just sort of slipped out… “He keeps to himself. Most folks around here don’t even know his name.”

Hence the nasty nickname, she figured. They should have called this place Jerkville.

“His name is Wilson.” She exposits. “Wilson P. Higgsbury. The ‘P’ stands for Percival.” 

The cop snorted. “You two related or something?”

Willow thought about it for a moment. “Um. Yeah, sure, I’m his...sister.” Whatever ended this conversation quicker. 

He side-eyed her a bit but just shrugged lackadaisically in the end. “He’s up on the hill.” He pointed to a cluster of trees in the distance, away from the suburbs. “Maybe an hours’ walk out there. Stick to the road. You’ll hit him eventually.”

Hours’ walk??? Uggggggh. 

“I can give you a lift if you’d like.”

Willow narrowed her eyes a bit. The last thing she wanted to do was ride with the fuzz anywhere. 

But it’s not like she was in trouble or anything… so…?

“Uh, you don’t have to do that. I can walk there myself just fine.”

“Humph. Suit yourself.”

--

This was such a mistake.

Oh, the walking had gone just about as well as she thought it would. But “sticking to the road” wasn’t helping, and it was starting to get dark…

Willow shook herself. It’s not like there was anything in the dark to get her, and even if there was, she had her lucky lighter! Just like old times. Get a grip!

Willow stopped sort when a flash of something caught her attention on the side of the road. A sign next to a pathetic little trail.

“PRIVATE PROPERTY”

Well, this is the first sign of human habitation she had seen on the road so far. Looked like his handwriting too… 

BANG!

Willow jumped out of her skin. A distant explosion. She looked up and saw a cloud of blue smoke waft over the trees.

Oh, this was his place alright! Willow couldn’t contain her excitement as she tore through the woods. 

And there it was, Wilson’s house, in all it’s decrepit, depressing glory. 

A window was thrown open with a fury on the second floor, accompanied by a very familiar string of coughs and another plume of chemical smoke. It was him!! It was him!!!

“Wilson!!” 

A few seconds later a very perplexed scientist had stuck his head out of the window, an erratic expression plastered on his alabaster face. “Huh??? Who’s there, don’t any of you know how to read?”

“Wilson! I found you!”

They locked eyes for a moment (though it seemed Wilson was still a bit blinded), totally frozen. 

Suddenly he slammed the window shut and ran from the attic. Willow could hear him racing around the house, the walls must be pretty thin.

The front door opened then, gingerly, as though Wilson meant not to startle a skittish animal.

“W-Willow??” His voice trembled and his eyes were glistening. He must still have smoke in them, poor fella! “Is that really you?”

“Um, yeah!” She twittled her thumbs some, nervous that maybe she had interrupted something important. 

Aw, screw it. She missed the big lug, he was getting a hug!

“Oh don’t-” Wilson stepped outside and shut his door behind him. “Don’t come in yet, the place is- I mean it’s all so-”

Willow pulled him into an embrace, burying her face into the crook of his neck. 

Wilson returned it, tightening his grip with each passing moment. 

Willow pulled away at the sound of him sniffling. “Oh geez, don’t cry! I’m sorry I took so long. It took me a while to remember the name of the town you said you lived in.” And the state too. Turns out there was more than one Woodstock on the East Coast. 

“I… I thought-” Wilson held his face in his gaunt fingers and whimpered, “I thought I’d never see you again… I thought you were a dream.”

“Who, me? You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” 

Wilson chuckled a bit in between sniveling. “No.. I don’t suppose I am.” He took his handkerchief out of its usual hiding place. It was stark white, which shouldn’t be possible, given the years of gross mistreatment in the wilderness.

Wilson seemed stark white himself. Cadaverous, more so than usual, as if he had pulled himself out of the ground not too long ago, and was still trying to remember how to be a person. The person he’d been before he came to The Constant. “The Ghoul” of Woodstock...

She wouldn’t bring that up, it was mean. She felt mean for thinking it.

“I’ve missed you, Willow” he dabbed at his eyes with the cloth, “you don’t know how miserable I’ve been these past weeks.”

“Wanna bet?” She wrapped him up tight into another bone-crushing hug. She listened to his heartbeat (slamming against his ribcage), and sighed contentedly. 

His embrace felt the same.

His nervous little squawk when he exclaimed that his house wasn’t fit for her to be in made her laugh; she really didn’t care what the house looked like, because it wasn’t her home.

Wilson was her home.

[arsmith03]

Navy & Floral: Part 2

Ship: Wade Wilson x Peter Parker

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Peter, there is someone at the door for you." May called through the house, up to the second floor.

"I'll be down in a second." I said. Placing my book on my desk, i walked down stairs to the main entry way of the house.

"Who is-?" I asked my aunt who had walked away and I looked at the door.

"Wade? What are you doing at my house? How did you know I lived here?"

"I saw you walking home last night." I stared at him in shock for a second. Did he see me as Spider-man?

"Y-you did?"

"Yeah, I mean, I live down the road from you and you passed my house." He turned at pointed to the house with a bright red car in front of it.

"Oh. Well, that explains a lot. Any way, what do you want?"

"Oh, yeah, here." He put his hand in his pocket and fished out something. He grabbed my hand and placed his fist in it. When he pulled his hand away, in my hand laid a crumbled up ten dollar bill and what look like two ones.

"What's this?"

"I figured I'd give you my money, since I made a bet on you. And the three dollars are what you gave me during lunch yesterday."

"I don't want you betting money, Wade." I forcefully put the money back in his hand.

"Peter, please."

"Wade, no."

"Peter, is your friend staying for lunch?"

"No, aunt May, he was just leaving." I looked over my shoulder when i said that then back at Wade.

"I'm hurt, Parker."  Wade put one of his hands over his chest.

"I don't care, Wade. Can you leave now?" I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned against the door frame.

"Fine, Parker. But, I'll see you at school, Monday I'm picking you up." He started walking down the steps to the sidewalk.

"Don't count on it, Wade." I let out a huff before shutting the door ."

"Peter, who was that boy? Was he the one that was picking on you yesterday?"

"No, aunt May. Though, he is just some guy from school. He offered to drop me off at school, but I refused."

"Peter, what? Why did you refuse? You could have made a friend."  I sat down at the dining table as aunt may brought out a plate with a ham sandwich on it and a thing of chips.

"Thanks, May. And I refused because I don't want to be associated with people like him." I picked up my sandwich and took a bit from it.

"He looks like a good kid. What's wrong with him?" I set down my sandwich and ran my hand through my hair.

"Evey thing, May. He made a bet on when I'd come out and he just tried to give me his money as a way to make it up to me." I let out a sigh.

"Oh, Peter-" May came to my side of the table and rested her hand on my shoulder, but I shrugged her off.

"I'll be in my room." I left my half eaten sandwich on the table and walked back to my room. I slammed my door a littler harder then I wanted.

I sat on my bed for a few minutes before I grabbed my book i discarded on my desk and opened my window to sit on the roof.

"He's a good kid." I mocked in my aunts voice. I opened my book to where I left off. I continued reading until I sense something. Rain. I closed my book and began to walk back inside through my window.

"Peter, make sure you shut that window." My aunt yelled from downstairs.

"Yes, aunt May." I shut my window. As I did, I seen Wade hop in his car and almost speed down the street.

I laid in my bed and looked at the ceiling. I've always stared at the ceiling when I was bored as a child. I remember every detail. I liked to remember calling the texture of the ceiling looked like popcorn. I remember the crack near the light fixture that appeared after a bad rain atom when I was only 7.  I remember the light yellow stain in the left corner from when the roof leaked when I was 10. There was a hole in the ceiling right above my bed where a hook use to be. I hung my favorite tie fighter from it until only a few years ago.  

"Peter. Can you come downstairs?"

I did as I was asked and went downstairs.

"Yes." I walked down the stairs to see another lady standing in the door way.

"Peter Parker?"

"Yes."

"I'm Wade's mother. See he ran away from home again and I was hoping you knew where he went."

"Sorry I don't."

"Not even a direction on where he went?"

"All I seen was him get in his car at go that way." I pointed down the street.

"That's enough for me. Thank you, Peter."

"Sorry I could have been more of a help, Mrs. Wilson."  She gave a small nod and said thank you again before walking back to her house.

My aunt looked at me as I shut the door.

"What?"

"Nothing, Peter. I'm shocked you don't have his phone number."

"Why would I have his phone number? He made a bet to see when I'd come out." I raised an eyebrow at my aunt and began to walk up the stairs where she yelled at me about dinner being done soon.

I looked out my window. Wade still didn't return home.  He still didn't return after dinner. When I left for spidey duty, he still hadn't returned. Maybe I'll see him on patron and tell him he's mother is worried sick.

I sat on a roof top eating my usual sandwich. It was quiet.  The only thing I heard was the sound of cars and the sound of drunkards stumbling out of bars.

"I know you're there."

"That's right Spidey-babe." Deadpool took his spot next to me like last night.  

"What do you want, Deadpool?"

"To be your friend." I felt myself laughing.

"I'm serious, spidey."

"Deadpool, let me say this nicely. I don't want to be friends with someone who murders people."

"That's no fun, babe."

"Didn't I say don't call me that."

"And I un-alive people. I don't kill them." Though he had his mask on i could see that he was smiling.

"Those are the same thing." I sighed and began to eat my sandwich.

"What do you have today?"

"A sandwich." I said plainly as I kept staring at the city.

"I see this. What what kind?" He was really annoying today.

"A roast beef with pickles. Why?"

"I figured you know, being a spider and all, you'd eat like a fly sandwich or something."

"Why would I eat flies?" When I said that my phone went off.

"Shut up." I looked at Deadpool before pulling out my phone.

"Hello." It was aunt May, I couldn't give it away that she was my aunt or maybe deadpool will know who i am.

"Yes, I can get eggs. yes and milk." I looked at Deadpool through my mask.

"Ok, love you too." I said before hanging up.

"Wife have you buying groceries on the way home."

"First of all, I'm still in high school, so I'm not married. And no, it was my aunt."

"You live with your aunt? I know a kid that lives with his aunt. Real nice lady, I don't see how she can live with that hot ass every day. And I'm meaning the nephew she has. Damn, its like hottest bubble butt I've seen."

OK, so Deadpool does know me but he doesn't know that Spider-man is me, so that means i know Deadpool!

"Don't get me wrong Spidey, you have a nice ass as well but, someone has a better one and its never squeezed into spandex." Deadpool looked over the city as well.

"Right." I said. I turned back to the city. I looked at it for a few moments before my phone went off again.

"Hello." It was Wade's mother.

"Hey, whats wrong? No I haven't seen him since this morning."

"I'll keep an eye out for him while I'm out in the city."

"Sorry again."  I hung up and stood. Pulling my mask down, Wade also stood up.

"Who was that?"

"Mrs. Wilson. Her son ran away from home and shes pretty worried and so im going to go look for him."

"I'm sure he's ok."

"Deadpool, tell me you didn't do anything to that kid?"

"I don't even know who that is, so I don't know." I sighed and rubbed my face. I shot my web at the nearby sky-raise.

"Bye, Deadpool." And I took off looking for Wade, if he was still in the state or city of where ever he goes.

"Stupid, Wade. What the hell was he thinking? Why run away?" I said out loud to myself as i swung through the city.

I landed on a roof top several streets over from my own. I seen Wade's mother walking the streets.

I wont intervene cause then she might know who I am.  I decided I'd just go to the store and buy the stuff May wanted. So, without anyone looking I ducked into a near by ally way and changed back into my street clothes. I walked to the grocery store and bought eggs and milk. When I paid, i walked out of it and passed a taco stand.  There was Wade.

"Wade?" I looked at him. He grabbed his taco from the vendor and looked at me.

"Peter? What are you doing here?"

"I'm getting milk and eggs." I held up the bag and milk carton. " What are you doing? Shouldn't you be home?"

"Nah, mom isn't worried about me. Dad could care less." He walked over to me.

"That's not what your mom said when she called me."

"She called you?"

"Yeah, she asked if I'd seen you today but I told her no."  

"My mom is worried about me?" Wade looked around at the night life of the city.

"Yeah, she sounded very upset and worried." Wade stopped looking around before he was just facing to the left of us.

"She is extremely worried right now and I'm almost positive she's sitting at my aunts house right now just waiting for a call saying you are ok. So, just go home, Wade. Go and tell her you are ok."

Wade slowly turned to look at me as I was finishing my sentence.

"Yeah, I might do that." I smiled and nodded before starting to walk down the street.

"Hey, wait, where are you going?"

"Home?"

"I'll give you a ride. That way no body can attack that booty of yours." He winked at me. I stared at him before slowly walking away.

"Wait, I'm sorry, let me give you a ride, really, its late and I don't want you getting hurt when i could have stopped it." He held his hand up as a surrender.

"Fine." I walked to Wade who began walking to his car. He opened the passenger door for me and when I was seated he shut it for me and made his way over to the driver side.

"You know, you didn't have to hold the door open for me?"

"Nonsense." And with that he started up the car and merged into the traffic to go home. I looked out the window the whole time.

"So, Peter? Are you still upset about yesterday?"

"Not so much." Was all I said, not turning my gaze from the glistening lights.

"I'm really sorry, Peter."

"Yeah, I kinda figured that."

"Can we try to be friends? At least try?" I blinked a few times before looking at him.

"You're serious right?"

"Deadly." I nodded and looked out the front window.

"I.....I don't know. Are you sure you want to be friends with the nerd?" I shrugged. I twiddled my thumbs looking at them.

"Who else will help me with homework?"

"I'm not doing any of your homework, if we become friends." I looked at him and pointed as well. "I'll help you and that will be all I do. If we are partners for any reason, you will do fifty percent of the work as well." I crossed my arms and turned back to the front window.

"Deal" he held one of his hands out for me. I looked at it then back at him, then back at his hand. I stared at it for a few seconds before deciding to grab it and shake it.

"Deal." I went back to looking out the window after I let his hand go.