#like what do you mean wilson's the only person he can stand for as long as he has

[334iwatchshit]

hilson brainrot in this day and age is terrible for my health

[crazyk-imagine]

Okay, so, I have an idea. Wade Wilson with a tall S/O (any gender is fine, but preferably fem) that can and does pick him up?

Tall Girls Rule and Wade Drools

Pairing: Wade "Deadpool" Wilson x Tall!reader

Characters: Wade "Deadpool" Wilson, Tall!reader, James "Bucky" Buchanon Barnes, Logan "Wolverine" Howlett, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Ellie "Negasonic Teenage Warhead" Phimister, Yukio, Natasha "Black Widow" Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, Peter Parker

Warnings: Fluff, Wade is a warning himself, puns, dorkiness, terrible jokes and nicknames, reader lifts wade whenever, wade likes being babied, everyone likes and doesn't like him, they never know what to do with him, the avengers did not ask for wade but here he is, mention of alcohol or at least drinks, surprisingly no mentions of chimichangas, wade is a slut, reader does not fall for his antics, small xmen and avengers cross over, mentions of the forbidden unicorn

Word Count: 1k

Also based off this post

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You're happy to hang out with your friends, even if the only reason you know them is because of your idiotic and chaotic boyfriend.

He still amazes you even though you two have been together for so long now.

-

Before the party, you were smoothing out the skirt of your dress and a slight breeze came through the window.

You’re worried with how thin the fabric feels, it might be too late to change.

“Hey babe?” You call out for him, not knowing where he wandered off too.

“Yes, sugarplum?”

“We vetoed that one two weeks ago,” you answer while adjusting your watch.

“Right, right. Yes, my anaconda don’t because she’s got the big buns hun?”

“That ones a little long.” You enter the kitchen and find him standing on the counter, making a mess. “Wade,” you sigh.

You walk towards the counter, placing your hands by his feet; seemingly trapping him in. “You’re not supposed to have sugar before we go out. You know you basically turn into a crackhead.”

“I take offense to that because, sugar–”

You mutter under your breath, “jesus.”

“- to be a crackhead, means you have to be on crack or have it in your veins.”

Your right eye twitches as he makes the motion to his elbow. “Did Peter show you that? I told him to ban you from tiktok.”

“Jecuze!”

You roll your eyes and pull him off the counter, tossing him over your shoulder.

-

You pause at his warm hands caressing your behind. “Wade.”

“Yes, juicy- I mean baby?”

“Stop playing with my ass.” You start walking towards your shared room once more.

“I thought you liked it when I played with you. You weren’t complaining last night.”

You toss him onto the bed and grab your earrings. “Shut up.”

You stand back, checking yourself out in the mirror. “Okay, be honest.”

“I’d totally-”

“No.” You turn to face him. “Can you see my nipples through this dress?”

He shakes his head, “no, don’t worry, but I’m sure they’re still there.” He leans back and looks you up and down. “If you want, I can give you an inspection. Come on,” he pats his lap. “Give papa some sugar.” 

You roll your eyes. “Go grab your unicorn and jerk off, you horndog.”

He whines and lets out a noise as he catches his stuffed friend.

-

You glance up from the table and turn to find Wade moving around like an insane person.

Part of you regrets dragging him out with you but another part of you doesn't and seeing him goof around to annoy Logan and Bucky makes you feel better. 

You turn back to Ellie and Yoko only to furrow your brows after finding them stare at you. "What?"

"Are you ever going to stop staring at him?" The dark haired girl asks.

"What's wrong with me looking at him?" 

"You stare at him like a lost puppy."

"I do not," you scoff.

Yoko places a hand on her girlfriend's shoulder, letting her know she needs to calm down and watch what she says.

Ellie doesn't mean to but sometimes her brain and her mouth aren't always in tune with one another and it leads to fights.

You glance back at Wade, watching as he messes around with Scott too. "I wanted to make sure everything was okay."

"Okay?"

You purse your lips, unsure if this is something you should be confessing. 

You decide against the logical part of your brain and tell the girls what's been on your mind.

Wanda makes her way over, dragging Natasha with her.

"Sorry, ladies," the shorter haired woman tells you.

"Our favorite bartender was dealing with a weirdo and we didn't get our drinks until now."

You all chuckle knowing she was referring to your boyfriend, who still stands beside America's sweetheart and his best buddy plus the others, annoying the absolute shit out of them.

"I said I was sorry but what was I supposed to do?"

Wanda turns to you, placing a hand on your shoulder, pulling your attention onto her. "Don't listen to Nat, she's joking with you. She’s actually happy to see him act, sort of, decent. I mean, we all are. He finally got manners."

You give her a small smile and nod, feeling the same way.

"I think that's the first time we all can ever agree on something about Wade," Ellie adds.

You cover your mouth chuckling, "definitely."

-

Wade turns around at the sound of your laughter.

The others can see how his eyes soften behind his mask.

None of them seeing the rainbows and dancing unicorns that envelope you.

"-ade? Wade?" Steve calls out.

"Yes, Mr. All American?"

The blond sighs, "I told you to stop calling me that."

"And I decided not to listen," he leans closer to whisper, "get a load of this guy, am I right? He's acting like he doesn't know me."

Bucky raises a brow at his behavior, not believing that someone can act the way he does even if he's known to man for a few years, Wade always has a way of surprising people with his antics. 

“Could you stop fawning over your girl for five minutes and chill?” Logan grunts.

Wade pretends to think on it. “Hmm no.”

He runs over to you and throws himself into your lap.

All the girls groan at his entrance.

You chuckle, “Hi honey.”

“Hi sugarplum, you having fun?”

You shake your head.

“Shut up, we were having more fun before you got here.”

He turns away from you. “I don’t know whether to be offended or not.”

Yoko stares at him concerned, “is he okay?”

You nod, “he’s fine.” You stand up, carrying him and set him beside Tony, needing him to stay with the boys. “Baby, stay here.”

“But-” He pouts.

“Wade.”

“Fine but if I’m drunk by the time we’re done, don’t blame me.”

"God help us," Logan mutters.

"I am the only God here." He turns away and uses the back of his hand muttering into the distance, whispering, "I'm still Marvel Jesus."

[rxmqnova]

The very grumpy yn, more than bucky, is in a relationship with Wanda, but normally she doesn't like to show the love she felt for Wanda, she is in love, she is her person but been in hydra for so long, even after she wasn't there anymore, she was free like five years ago but still feeling that way.

So the avengers had a party, and even if she tolerate the alcohol like Nat or Yelena, she decided to try the asgardian licour, it was only a shot but she was very drunk, even she didn't recognize her girlfriend when she went to find her on the balcony.

She thought it was someone trying to hit on her so she told them she has a girlfriend, so Wanda started to ask about her and Yn become a little sappy about it, it's not like she hasn't heard anything like that from her before but the way she was talking, she got a bit emotional, she said like a small speech and when she finished she said that sometimes she just wanted to say those things to Wanda, she felt she deserved it and she started to cry a bit and saying sorry to the person who was next to her, Wanda.

Confession

NO ONE'S POV "Why do we have to go there? He's throwing up a party nearly every weekend. Can't we just skip today?" Y/N sighs, flopping on hers and Wanda's shared bed.

Wanda shakes her head with a smile, sitting down next to her girlfriend. The witch would normally think about staying in with her girlfriend, but it's Tony's Christmas party tonight.

"We skipped last time, Y/N/N. It's Tony's famous Christmas party tonight, we can't miss it" Wanda says only to receive a groan from her girlfriend. "Oh, come on" She nudges Y/N's shoulder playfully on which Y/N rolls her eyes, making Wanda let out a chuckle as she stands up and goes to get ready.

Y/N joins her girlfriend in a few seconds, earning a smile from Wanda and a kiss on the cheek which makes Y/N blush and that doesn't go without a notice from Wanda, though she doesn't comment it.

When the pair's ready to go, the girls get on the way to the Stark tower where Tony's party taking place. Holding hands they walk in, immediately getting greeted by loud music and so many people.

"Look who showed up, the Grinch herself" Tony teases, walking to the girls when he sees them, making Y/N roll her eyes.

"It's not funny anymore, Stark" Y/N shakes her head, sending a glare to the man in front of her.

"Let's have a drink" Wanda decides, dragging her girlfriend to the bar immediately before her and Tony start arguing. She knows Y/N doesn't drink, but that doesn't mean she can't get a juice or something at least.

As usually, Y/N orders juice, sipping the drink alone as Wanda disappeared to the restroom.

"Hey, there" Sam appears out of nowhere, making Y/N sigh and roll her eyes.

"What do you want, Wilson?"

"Oh, come on. It's Christmas! Let's have some fun. Look what I have here" Sam smirks, showing Y/N a shot of asguardian liquor he got from Thor. "I brought it just for you" He smirks once again.

"You know what? Fine. It's boring here anyway" Y/N sighs, taking the shot from Sam and immediately feeling way better. It surely works fast.

But suddenly Y/N remembers her girlfriend is missing and decides to go and find her.

So after wandering around for a while and bumping into unknown people, the girl ends up on the balcony, collapsing on the couch Tony has there.

"Hey, there" Wanda smiles, taking a seat next to her girlfriend as she only just said goodbye to her friend who's she been talking with here on the balcony. "Everything okay, baby?"

"I'm looking for Wanda. Have you seen her?" Y/N asks, staring at the girl next to her.

"I'm Wanda. I'm right here. Are you okay, honey?" Wanda furrows her brows in confusion, looking at Y/N who just stares at her blankly.

"No, no, no. I mean my Wanda. She's my girlfriend, so don't even try!" Y/N warns, lifting her index finger as a warning. "Can you help me find her?" She asks, a quiet whine escaping her lips.

"Of course, tell me about her" Wanda chuckles, wondering where will this go.

"… My Wanda is the most beautiful girl on the entire world… She has brown hair and the prettiest green eyes I've ever seen" Y/N says, smiling at the thought of her girlfriend. "Have you seen her?" "Hmm, I don't know. What is she like?" Wanda asks, finding this actually really sweet and rather amusing.

"She's just awesome" Y/N lets out a sigh. "She's the most amazing person ever. Sometimes I feel like I don't deserve her" She sighs once again, looking down on the ground and playing with the rings on her fingers.

"How so, Y/N/N? I'm sure you're the best one for her" Wanda smiles, placing her hand on her girlfriend's back and rubbing it to comfort her, only to receive a shake of a head in disagreement.

"It's just… I did so many horrible things. I don't deserve to be happy, you know?" Y/N sighs, her eyes filling with tears on the thought of all those things she's been doing with hydra.

The Avengers rescued her from one hydra base for about 5 years ago, though Y/N just can't help but blame herself for everything she's done with hydra, even though she was made to do all those things.

"Wanda's the sweetest and I love her so damn much, but sometimes I can't even tell her that, because I feel like I don't deserve her" Y/N continues.

"Don't say that. You deserve to be happy, Y/N. Yo-"

"Hm-hm" Y/N shakes her head, tears quietly running down her cheeks. "I just wish I could tell her how much I enjoy our movie nights. I still don't know what Wanda loves about those sitcoms so much, but her cuddles are worth watching it" The girl admits, making Wanda let out a small chuckle.

"Or the way her nose scrunches every time she smiles. I love that nose scrunch so damn much" Y/N continues, bringing a smile to Wanda's face. "And the sweet little notes she always leaves for me. I don't think she knows, but I have them all hidden in my nightstand. There's so much more I'd like to tell her, but I can't… Something inside of me is just stopping me" Y/N confesses, a sigh leaving her lips as tears are still running down her face.

Wanda sighs, trying to stop the tears that started filling her eyes. The fact that Y/N hides every single note she leaves her just got her.

"I don't normally do this. I'm sorry you had to listen to this and watch me cry" Y/N wipes her tears, feeling a bit embarrassed for telling all of this to a complete stranger.

"Hey, don't apologise for your feelings. Your girlfriend is lucky to have you and I'm sure she knows how much you love her even though you find it hard telling her" Wanda gives her girlfriend a smile, receiving a small smile back.

Surely Wanda's had a few doubts when Y/N's not been able to show much emotions over the time they've been dating. But after tonight she knows Y/N loves her the exact same way like she loves Y/N and now she knows for sure she wants to spend the rest of her life with the girl next to her.

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

I wanted to post this one for Christmas, but I've been very busy lately and only just finished it😅

Wanda Maximoff masterlist

Masterlist

[shakesthewizard]

Hi please explain about fabianxadaine???

Okay since you asked so nicely here's the fucking thing about Fabadaine

First, some background info

Before we dive in, you should know a couple things. For one, I'm a firm bad kid polycule truther. You could truly pitch me any pairing/grouping of those kiddos and I could find a really ineresting and/or sweet dynamic to eat the drywall about

You should also know that I'm gonna most likely remember some details during this analysis - if you spot them, please let me know by putting them in a bottle and throwing them into the ocean.

Second, some character meta

Adaine O'Shaughnessey is a girl with a lot of courage. It's sort of her defining character trait. The idea of "a wizard with an anxiety disorder" brings to mind someone pretty timid, who's afraid of speaking their mind. But from her first appearance, we see clearly that to Adaine, her disorder is pretty explicitly medical. On her first day of freshman year, she's already talking back to her horrible parents and trying to stand up for herself. Long before she gets access to medication, her disorder hinders her the way an asthma attack might; it has no bearing on her willingness to do the courageous thing.

Relatedly, Adaine thrives under adversity. Not abuse or mistreatment, mind - what I mean is that she likes it when people push back at her a little, so that she has opportunities to test her ideas and opinions against dissent. Look at her dynamic with Aelwyn in season three. Those two bicker and banter; they poke at each other, but it's how they're expressing things like concern or pride.

You could argue, probably well, that this is a product of sisterhood, and a product of their history in particular. But I think there's more to it than that. We see throughout the show that Adaine is a person who cares about exceeding; about learning and growing and achieving great things. It's classic wizard.

Adaine is the child of the wealthy and the important, and that shapes everything about her. It influences her struggles; her abandonment issues in particular. But it also shapes her goals, her values, and her attitudes. She seeks recognition for her skills and her labor, and she wants the people she loves to challenge her so that she can grow and make them proud.

Fabian Seacaster is the son of a famous man and a natural talent. His showmanship is clear and evident from the first moments we see him, and it's reflected in his character build from the start. He's a Champion Fighter, after all.

This showmanship is, frankly, a testament to Lou Wilson's masterful understanding of characters. That single trait can be picked apart to help us understand everything about him.

Fabian is a showman because he was raised as the scion of an up-and-coming house; given every tool he needed to learn his parents' skills, and to prepare him to take the Seacaster name when the time comes.

Fabian is a showman because he believes wholeheartedly in his own greatness. His whole life, he's been surrounded by tutors whose whole job it has been to mold him into the perfect son, and they were paid enough to care about doing it right.

Fabian is a showman because he knows he's earned his own arrogance; wealth or not, pampered lifestyle or not, we see him scold his fencing teacher when he goes easy on him. Fabian isn't blinded by his privilege (or at least not entirely) - he genuinely cares about being the best, and he'll give up the luxury if it means greatness.

Fabian is a showman because he's deeply anxious. Bill and Hallariel clearly love their son, but being the only child of a world-famous pirate, tasked with being their emissary to Solace for future generations, is an unbelievable amount of pressure. Fabian has to be perfect to the world outside. He can't just be good; he can't just be great; he has to be Fabian Aramais Seacaster, Son of the Famous Bill Seacaster!

Fabian is a showman because he has to figure out who he is, somehow. Who is he, outside of his father? He certainly doesn't know, but suddenly he realizes he has to know, for his own sake. So he does what any kid does when they're trying to figure out their identity - they act out.

Finally, what I understand about Fabadaine that nobody else does

Fabian Seacaster and Adaine O'Shaughnessey are the children of the wealthy; the important. They're both second generation Solesians, sent out to represent their families. They're both ambitious people who are trying to achieve great things outside the expectations of their parents. They're both proud and straightforward, prioritizing their values over social niceties.

Adaine and Fabian both carry the swords of their dead fathers.

To put it simply - Fabian and Adaine are really good foils for each other, and I dislike when their dynamic is reduced to classic highschool boyfriend/girlfriend tropes.

As an example, a number of fics I've read have Fabian pursuing Adaine, and that simply doesn't hold up. Let's be honest here - Fabian has terrible taste in women, and has a bad track record of making the more self-destructive choice whenever romance is on the table. I have no doubt he likes Adaine, but he would also know that she'd hold him accountable and challenge him when he makes stupid choices. No, Adaine is the one initiating here.

The thing that really draws me to this pair is because both of them need and want to be challenged, but each of them has a different attitude towards challenging others, and it makes for an active dynamic that can evolve in a lot of interesting ways.

You know what, check back later. I need to write fic about this.

[the-froschamethyst4]

Time Of Death: Dawn

𖤐Pairing: Vampire! Alex x Werewolf! F! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: Smut, fluff, language, fake marriage, kissing/making out, eating out, P in V, enemies to lovers, Victorian Era, sexism,

𖤐Summary: Vampire Alex Keller and his so-called wife Y/n L/n-Keller had to be perfect but they're not. Alex is the future of Vampires and Y/n was the future for her wolf kind, but this so-called marriage was to keep the peace between both worlds of Vampires and Werewolves.

————

————

The sun peaked through the curtains leaking into the bedroom shared between Alex and his wife Y/n. Y/n every night when going to bed would open the curtains just slightly for the sun to come in to let the sun try to burn Alex.

But before the sun could reach him. Alex would use his powers to shut them.

"Asshole," Y/n says, whipping her head around to look at her husband who was just bring his hand down.

"Coming from the woman who tries to kill me every morning."

"Not like you do the same," she says, kicking the covers off her body and grabs a shirt off the floor and puts it on. Y/n slept naked because she gets hot at night, while Alex sleeps pajama pants and a shirt.

The two had a agreement to do a fake wedding, mainly to keep the peace between Vampires and Werewolves, they were both the future them all, Alex going to be King of Vampires and Y/n going to be an Alpha. But they could not stand one another.

In public people saw them as two lovely couple who didn't let their differences stop them, but behind close doors, they hated one another, trying to kill one another.

Why kill each other, because when one dies the other gets their fortune.

Y/n stood on the balcony looking down at the people, Alex hissed when seeing the light seep in just a little bit.

"Close the door, you damn woman."

"Make me," she says, not even looking at him instead at the boy passing flowers out to couples on the street. She leans on her hand as she watches him pass them out, she loved seeing him, he was always so kind, gentle, and soft spoken, something about him that Alex wasn't.

"Him again?" Alex came out with his cloak over his head. "You know damn well if they see an affair going around-"

"They'll hang me, I know, drive a sliver nail through my heart, I get it, I can still dream, can't I?"

"No, you cannot, you are married to me-"

"Fake married, mind you," she says. She walks away from him. "I'm going to the market...care to come?" She felt like she was going to regret that answer.

"I would," he says with a smirk.

They both get ready dressed in their usual attire to match everyone else. They walked arms linked trying to look like a 'normal' couple. Y/n carried a small lace parasol over her shoulder, and Alex made sure his top hat covered his face.

"You could have stayed home," Y/n mumbles.

"And what let you have your way with the flower boy?"

"I would never, who do you think I am?" She teased.

"You are a woman, that I don't trust," his hand gripped her wrist.

"Mr. and Mrs. Keller what a lovely surprise," they stopped and looked at the person coming towards them.

"Mr. Wilson, how long has it been?" Alex jokes.

"Only a few days," Mr. Wilson laughs with Alex. Mr. Wilson didn't really like Y/n, refuse to speak to her, acknowledge her, or even look at her to even ask how she was doing. He acknowledged Alex like they've been best friends for years.

They haven't. Alex just can't stand the man, but doesn't know how to to tell Mr. Wilson to leave them alone.

"I'll be at the bread vendor," Y/n says, looking up at Alex dismissing herself from the men's conversation.

"Didn't think she'd ever leave," Mr. Wilson says, hiking up his pants.

"Easy there, Mr. Wilson. That's my wife remember that," Alex warns.

"Ah yes I know, but I wanted to talk to you. I'm opening up a brothel and I was wondering if you'd like to come, drink, hang out, get the good ol' whistle wet. I know you and that...whore probably don't do it often, I mean if she was my wife, I'd never be home, I'd be out," he chuckles, but Alex didn't, Alex wanted to get away from this creep.

"Haha," Alex sarcastically laughs. "With respect, my wife and I do quite often, and I would like it if you don't EVER call my dick a whistle ever again-also...do leave my wife and I alone," Alex walks away from the fat man.

He sees Y/n looking at the bread and paying the vendor some money for the loaf she picked up, she turns to see Alex waiting for her, she walks to him looking down and linked her arm with his.

"I heard everything you know."

"I figured, you and those ears," he says, he moves a piece of her hair behind her ears. She slightly winched and pushed his hand away. Almost letting him know 'don't touch me.'

"You could've gone-"

"What did I say about them catching us have an affair?"

"Only me, they don't care what you do, you're a man, I'm a woman, people care more what I do versus you."

"Yeah but if they find out what we are, they'll kill both of us no matter what," he says.

"I need some fruit, I'll be back," she says, walking away. Alex stood back letting her shop, but he went to the boy passing out flowers.

"Good day, sir, care for some flowers?"

"Do you have orchids?" Alex asks.

"Orchids?" He looks around. "Ah! I do, my last one," he says, handing them to Alex.

"How much?"

"5 pens," Alex gave the boy the money and heads back to find Y/n she was also paying, once she turned to see Alex with the flowers in his hands.

"Orchids?" She smiles, while taking them from him and smelling them, Alex took the basket she carried and let her carry the flowers, showing them off to the other women.

"Your favorite," he says.

"Thanks...but why?"

"You seem down today...I don't know why, but...I want you to be happy today," he says.

"What's the catch?"

"No catch," he says. "Just you."

"What's your game, Alex Keller?" She warns taking her arm out of his.

"No game..." She still looked at him confused. "You just haven't received flowers from me in such a long time, so I figured I'd give you some," he says.

She stares at the flowers and hides her smile from Alex, they walked back to their shared mansion, she walks to the kitchen and pulled out a vase, filling it with water and sticking the orchids into the water.

She then places the vase into the window above the sink, that's where the most sunlight comes from, so it only fitted to place it there.

She walks up to her bedroom where she saw Alex remove his clothes. He sits on his side of the bed and looks at the sun peeking through the curtains. He then feels eyes on him and looks at Y/n who was removing her dress.

"I need a bath..." she stops in front of the bathroom door. "...C-Care to join?" She asks, looking at him over her shoulder.

"You want me to join you in the bath?" He asks.

"Sure-but you don't have to-"

"I'll join," he says.

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

Alex had watched Y/n as she washed her body, he watched as her skin had water dripping off her body. She looks like a Goddess. Alex looks at her bare back as she stood up, some scars on her back some freckles here and there, he stood up behind her moving behind her and kissing her neck.

"Alex!" She squeals. She tries to push off him but his arms wrapped around her waist to hold her against his body. "Hey, s-stop," she says.

"Y/n...please," he stops and looks up at her, his face was a bit red and he was slightly giving her a pouty face.

She turns to him and kisses his forehead, Alex stood up while also picking her up, her legs wrap around his waist, while she still placed kisses on his forehead and then his lips. Alex steps out of the bath and sets her on the counter and kissed her neck and then her chest.

Y/n let's out a soft moan, as Alex's kisses started to trail down, going from her chest down to her stomach and then just above her pelvis. He slightly pushes her legs open getting a small glimpse of her wet pussy.

He smirks while he was on his knees kissing her inner thighs. It was a while since her and Alex have done it, Alex would be busy and Y/n would be out or handling business within her community. This is the only time were they both can be with each other.

"Take it slow." She says.

"Of course," he says, licking his lips and kissing her wet clit, his tongue going between her wet folds, the sound of sucking and wet noises filled the bathroom.

He started eating her like she was his last meal, Y/n then squeezed her thighs around his head, he groans as he loved the feeling of her plush thighs around his head. He looks up at her seeing her leaning back on her elbows.

"F-Fuck," she moans, her hand going to his hair, slightly pulling and pushing him to make his tongue go deeper inside of her.

"You taste so sweet," he mumbles against her folds. Alex then stood up between her legs, aligning himself up at her entrance. "I'll be gentle," he says, close to her ear and kissing her shell of her ear.

Alex starts moving slowly, slowly grinding as well, her legs were resting on his waist, and her palms resting on the sink counter, her head back as she looks down at her stomach slightly bulging because of his dick.

"Fuck, Alex," she looks up at him, her arms going around his neck and kissed his lips, he starts moving a bit fast.

Alex smirks into the kiss, he picks her up and moves out of the bathroom, he placed her on the edge of the bed, her legs up and rested on both of his shoulders, he starts going a bit fast, balls slapping on her ass.

Her hands go from gripping the sheets to resting on his lower stomach, touching his toned chest and stomach feeling the ripples of his 6-pack under her fingers and palms.

"Ah!" She moans when feeling herself about to cum, she looks up at Alex almost telling him she was close. Alex smirks and chuckles at her.

"Come on, wolfie."

"D-Don't call me t-that," she says with a bit of a growl.

""Awww~ don't like my teasing?" He says, bending down close to her head.

"Don't you k-know not to tease a-a dog?"

"A dog?"

"Shut it," she says as he chuckles at her again.

Y/n puts her head back as Alex gave her one last thrust before she ends up coming on his dick. He pulls out and watched as cum leak from her lower half, he chuckles and bends down to use his fingers to kind of shove it back into her.

"AH Alex! W-What are you d-doing?" She asks.

"I don't want anything spilling from you," he says, now just placing his fingers inside of her.

She looked embarrassed, grabbing a pillow and hiding her red face behind it. Alex smirks and loved seeing her embarrassed.

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

Alex sat on his bed, Y/n was next to him asleep, he looks down at her sleeping naked figure, her face buried into her pillow and the blanket just resting on her waist. Alex stood up and walks to the window making sure they were shut. He heads back and pulls Y/n close to his chest, he kissed her forehead and rubbed her waist.

"Alex?"

"Hm?"

"...When we both become King of Vampires and Alpha of Werewolves...will we have to leave each other?"

"I don't know, baby," he says.

"I don't want to leave," she says.

"I know...I-I don't either," Alex said, holding her close, kissing her forehead, and then kissing her lips.

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

The next morning Y/n woke up first, the room showed no signs of light in the bedroom to hurt Alex, she looks down at Alex, touching his chest and moving her hand down to his stomach, her hand then slowly moves down to the blanket.

"Hey now...what do you think you're doing?" He says.

"Oh nothing," she says with a giggle, she leans down and kissed his lips. The kiss soon became something heavy, his tongue slipped into her mouth, she moans when she was pushed onto her back, her arms wrapped around his neck and his hands touched her soft thighs.

"Fuck, your lips...they taste so...so good, did you put something on?" He asks.

"I put some ChapStick on before I went to bed," she says.

"Taste good," Alex says, hiking her up to sit on his lap. Their bare bodies against each other, Alex was always so cold and Y/n was also so hot but with them two against each other it was a perfect warmth.

"I love your body," he says.

"Perv-"

"For what?" He chuckles. "I'm allowed to say I love your body."

"Shut up," she snuggles closer to his body and they both landed on their shared bed.

They are suppose to hate each other, why are they acting like this? Are they finally loving each other like a husband and wife are suppose to? Y/n looks up at Alex and pushed him on his back.

"What are you doing?" He asked as his hands rested on her ass now.

"Nothing just looking at my husband."

"Husband huh? When's the last time you've ever called me that?"

"Now," she says.

"You're being a tease."

"And you aren't?"

"When did I tease you?"

"Literally last night," she says, crossing her arms.

"Guess wife's are always right." She just chuckles at him and kissed his lips.

[housethemd]

Come in from the Cold

House/Wilson established relationship

Written based on a prompt from @griffin-11

This wasn’t what I was expecting to write when I got the prompt, but it’s what happened!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bite of early January always sinks into his bones in a way he can’t shake. The trip from the car to the apartment takes twice as long as it does in other seasons, lest he slip on the icy ground. No amount of complaints to the building’s management about the state of the steps in the wintertime have any effect. They insist the stairs are perfectly passable, which may be true for the even footed but are treacherous to his uneven gait.

Snowflakes flutter to the ground, fluffy and large, adding the existing two feet of snow already on the ground. For a moment he remembers winters from a decade ago. When weather such as this would mean a trip to upstate New York, to a ski resort where he and Wilson would spend weekends on the slopes. Wilson skied, but he always prefered snowboarding. He liked the speed, the balance it required, the feeling of the wind burning his cheeks as he hurdled towards the bottom of the hill, the satisfaction he got from safely reaching the bottom of the difficult hills, having dodged trees and other obstacles the whole way down. But those days are long behind him now, and the memory stings almost as much as the cold.

Every second spent outside is painful, as even his long wool coat can’t protect the crater in his thigh from the sub-zero temperatures. A mess of missing muscle and over sensitive nerve endings, the cold burns bright hot. He limps heavily up the few stairs into the building, doing his best to strike a balance between speed, safety, and keeping pain to a minimum. When he finally breaches the threshold into 221 Baker Street he lets the door fall shut behind him, and leans on it heavily.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.

He grips his thigh tightly, desperately trying to rub the stiff burning from what remains of his leg, as the mantra plays in his mind. Wilson always tried to get him to breathe through the pain. He always argued that it was new age bull crap, right up there with auras and chakras. Breathing wouldn’t regrow this missing muscle, breathing wouldn’t fix the damaged nerves, and breathing certainly wouldn’t get rid of the mangled mess of partially numb, partially hypersensitive scar tissue that marred his right thigh. Still, he tries. Wilson doesn’t know he tries when Wilson isn’t around, and he always gripes when Wilson makes him try, but he tries all the same because that’s what people in relationships do. They try.

When the breathing mumbo jumbo doesn’t work he reaches into his pocket to pull out his Vicodin bottle and dry swallow two of the white, chalky tablets. The bitter taste promises some relief, though he knows it will only do so much. His leg will take hours to warm up, and only then will the pain reduce to its usual daily level. He really hates Winter.

Sucking a breath through his teeth he limps slowly towards his door, pausing to pull out his keys he can hear the puttering sounds of Wilson moving about their now shared apartment. He was unsure about Wilson moving in, his one and only stint with cohabitation had been with Stacy, but had since found it was not completely terrible. It was nice not being alone all the time, and Wilson was probably the only person in the world he could stand to have around all the time, though he’d never say that out loud.

When he enters the apartment Wilson pops out from the kitchen, smiling fondly.

“Oh wipe that look off your face. You saw me three hours ago.” He scoffs, shucking his coat and letting it fall to the ground.

The apartment smells like Wilson’s cooking. The living room is tidy in a lived-in sort of way. Wilson is dressed in sweats and his McGil sweatshirt, but is barefoot. The entire scene is so warm and domestic it warms his heart and makes him nauseous in equal measure.

“What? A guy can’t look happy when a handsome man walks into his home?” Wilson asks, arms crossed.

“Sure he can. He just can’t look happy when an old, misanthropic, cripple walks into his home.” He shoots back.

“Oh right. I always confuse those two.” Wilson smiles, leaning on the door jam and throwing the dish towel he had been holding over his shoulder.

House managed to remove his shoe from his right foot, but as he shifts his weight onto his right leg and cane to remove his left he has to stop, a pained noise slipping unbidden past his lips as pain shoots through him. Wilson is beside him in an instant, one hand on his back and the other on his chest, ready to support his weight should he need it.

“Hey hey hey, what’s going on?” Wilson asked gently.

“Stupid cold weather. Cripples don’t do well in the cold.” He grumbled, not meeting Wilson’s eyes.

“Alright well let’s get you off your feet. You're inside now, so the pain should lessen up soon, yeah?” Wilson tried to encourage.

Wilson knew the cold bothered him, but House had never really been clear to what extent. He weighed his options now, agreeing that he would soon feel better and spend the rest of the evening trying to hide his pain or admitting that the cold made things worse than he’d let on. On the one hand he could keep a little bit of his dignity, but would likely end the evening fighting with Wilson over something stupid. On the other hand Wilson would enter full caring mode, and spend the evening doting on him, and that always gave him a weird feeling in the bit of his stomach.

“It… takes a while for my leg to warm up. Damaged blood vessels and nerves. I thought you were a doctor? Just, let me go to bed.” He grumbled, staring at the floor.

“Wouldn’t a hot bath help? Or at least a heating pad?” Wilson reached out to rub circles on his shoulder.

“No. Too much heat at once makes it worse, just let me go to bed, dammit!” He snapped, and it seemed that his honesty still resulted in a stupid fight.

Wilson said nothing, but supported his weight from the door to the bedroom. As soon as House was seated on the bed he turned and left. With a deep sigh House stripped down to his boxers and climbed under the blankets. He winced when he swung his right leg onto the mattress, pain shooting down into the rest of his leg. He closed his eyes, naming infectious diseases in alphabetical order in an attempt to distract himself to sleep. His leg was killing him and he had a pissed off boyfriend in the other room, sleep was truly his best option at this point.

He’s just starting to get through the B’s when the bed dips behind him.

Wilson has stripped down to his boxers as well, and is carrying what appears to be every blanket they own in his arms. He begins pulling them over the bed, over the lump of House’s body. Creating heavy layers that aren’t at all unpleasant.

“What are you doing?” House asked, trying to sound annoyed.

“Warming you up.” Wilson replied.

“Then why are you practically naked?”

Wilson just smiles, and as the last blanket is smoothed out over the bed he slides underneath them, curling his body around House’s. Wilson radiates warmth, and House can admit it’s nice, though it will be awhile before the heat sinks into his leg. He’s about to say as much when Wilson places one large, warm hand over the scar on his leg. The body temperature heat isn’t enough to aggravate the nerves, but is enough to soothe them. Wilson runs hotter than House, apparently just enough hotter that his body can provide a small amount of relief to his painful leg.

“How's that?” Wilson asked, breath tickling the hairs on the back of House’s neck.

“It’s fine. Weren’t you doing something when I got home?” House questioned, pretending not to enjoy having his boyfriend as his personal heater.

“Nothing that can’t wait. Nothing more important than this.”

House feels strangely choked up. He hates when Wilson does this to him. He shouldn’t be getting emotional over a cuddle session in bed, no matter how much it helps his pain. He opts to say nothing, but feels Wilson smile against his skin regardless.

“Go to sleep, House.”

The pressure of the blankets, the feeling of Wilson’s body against him, and the warmth of his hand radiating into his scarred thigh have his eyes feeling heavy. He slips into sleep with the sound of Wilson’s breathing as a lullaby.

[navree]

this is dc twitter discourse at the moment so i thought i'd ask your thoughts on it do you think red hood jason hurting children is ooc/a bad writing choice???

And this ladies and gents is why I avoid DC Twitter because I don't think I've seen any good takes there ever, no matter where you are. Sometimes people post panel compilations that hurt my heart, that's the like the only good thing to come out of it, I don't even click on the MAWS hashtag if it trends while the show is airing because last time I did it was people bitching that 25 year old Slade did not look or act the same way that current in his forties Slade does (not to mention, how can you complain about MAWS Slade? he's the best part about the show how did anyone not just fall over laughing with delight the second he showed up and proclaimed himself to be literal Slade Wilson?).

With that said, yeah I would consider that to be a bad writing choice. Talking about characterization for comics is hard because, as I've mentioned, comics is an incredibly decentralized creative medium in a way none others are. Movies, TV shows, novels, they all tend to have a main core group of people or even just one solitary person in charge of the creative direction, and for a lot of them, a very finite "this is where we start and this is where we end" mentality that comics do not. These characters have had constantly changing creative heads, with new directions and ideas for characterization attached, since their inception, and they've all been around for a very long time. This is why comics are kind of the only medium where you can, in fact, really pick and choose your canon, because the canon has changed so much depending on who is in charge at a giant company. Like, canonical eighties Batman characterization would be considered super OOC for someone writing canonical modern Batman, and vice versa. So talking about characterization is hard, especially with Jason when nobody has had any idea what to fucking do with him for decades at this point. But, when it comes to Red Hood Jason, there is something I consider gospel canon, which is the Under the Red Hood arc, since that is what nearly all subsequent canon imaginings of Jason take from. That is our gold standard here. And based on UTRH, yeah, Jason harming children is out of character and it is bad writing.

When Jason comes back, he has two very clear goals. Goal one: the Joker's gotta die, preferably Batman kills him so Jason gets concrete proof that he was loved and mourned (Jason is not mentally healthy so his thought process doesn't make sense just roll with it), but Jason is fine killing the man himself, so long as he dies. Goal two: essentially fulfill Batman's mission in a way where it actually accomplishes his goals. Jason outlines this pretty specifically in Batman #641, he tells Bruce "You. I'll be you. The you you're supposed to be." Jason's goal as the Red Hood is to make Gotham better (in his head), safer, and cleaner, but unlike Batman he is willing to take that goal as far as he can and will kill if necessary. What he wants is to just take Batman's mission to its logical extreme. Eradicate the various elements that have caused suffering in Gotham throughout the years, just with more permanence than Batman does, and less of a focus on rehabilitation, because you can't rehabilitate a dead person. And as part of this, Jason does not act unnecessarily. When he kills, it is people who (arguably) deserve it, and it is never innocents. It is always the criminal element, and people he believes are past the point of no return, as well as those who might be trying to stop him in that. His mission statement is literally "Death will come to those who deserve death, and death may come to those who stand in my way of doing what's right." and he means that. This is not a character you've created to then go out and harm children, because kids have not done anything to deserve it, and they are not the cause of the issues that he is trying to eliminate.

There's also the fact that Jason, even in his early Red Hood days where editorial just decided that he's a straight villain now, was never someone who went after kids, but in fact actively tried to help them. He makes it a point to tell his people that they do not sell drugs to kids and that if they do, he'll kill them (along with telling them not to get previously clean people hooked and only sell to repeats, which also paints him as someone who isn't just hurting others willy-nilly). The first person Jason ever kills, as seen in Red Hood: Lost Days, is a man who was involved in child trafficking, and he does it specifically because he wants to save those kids and future victims from him, and considers him scum of the Earth as a result (I think his name was Egan? Egon? idfk I don't reread Lost Days because I find their whole "look at fully adult Talia fucking the mentally ill sixteen year old under her care who is reliant on her for everything, how sexy" shtick abhorrent, and using Talia as their child rapist doubly so). So Jason, even at his most villainous, at his most "this is a bad dude" characterized, is someone who deliberately avoids harming innocents because it's not compatible with his mission or his personal code, and includes children very specifically in that.

It is also out of character and a bad writing choice because of Jason's own childhood. You might think a rebuttal to this is "Jason wants to kill/hurt criminals, what if kids are criminals" well guess what Jason was a kid criminal! It is actually illegal to steal parts off of people's cars, even if that person can afford it because he's Batman (to say nothing of the multiple very heavy handed hints dropped that Jason solicited as a prostitute during his time being homeless, which is also a crime, it is illegal and he would have been picked up by the cops for it if found out). Unless you want to argue that Jason thinks he himself should have been taken out with a Glock at the big of age of eleven for doing illegal things in the name of survival, you can't say that Jason's philosophy would allow him to harm children and remain in character or decently written, you just can't. Like, your other gospel for Jason's characterization should be his original Robin run from the 80s, since that's literally what introduced him to this world in the first fucking place, so duh. And there's nothing in that characterization to suggest that he would harm anyone unnecessarily, especially kids. Like, Robin Jason spares Two-Face's life, after having found out days ago that Two-Face murdered Willis Todd in cold blood; he tries to save Sheila Haywood's life after she straight up helps murder him; this isn't someone whose characterization allows for him to hurt children later in life. Especially once you factor in his struggles as a child, and how that most likely just breeds empathy for other children, especially children who are having a hard time.

Now, I can guess that some of this comes up in discussions of one of my most loathed subjects, the stupid bad stupid dumb stupid attack on fucking Titan's Tower. Now, even beyond the fact that the stupid attack on stupid Titan's Tower is less about Jason wanting to beat up children and more his specific issues with Bruce and the concept of Robin that can't be transplanted to other people, the attack itself is bad writing. It is out of character for Jason. It does not jive at all with his stated characterization and motivations that he himself outlined (also the only other closest thing to that is his fight with Mia Dearden, where he's pretty tame in just warning her to leave vigilantism and straight up beats her twice before letting her go relatively unscathed of his own free will, just saying) and it makes no sense. His issues are that the Joker is alive and Batman didn't do anything about it. Why the fuck would he care about Tim? Tim means nothing to him, he never even met the little dude, he doesn't have an issue with him. He doesn't even have an issue with the idea of Robin being passed down because Jason literally said he was perfectly content to not be Robin and just be Jason, and his problems don't arise from Robin! The issues at the heart of Jason's conflict with Bruce hinge on the Bruce and Jason relationship of father and son, not Batman and Robin! And not fucking Tim! Tim means nothing, he is a nonentity. The only reason this fuckass plot exists is because DC didn't know what to do with Jason and threw shit at the wall to see what would stick, similar to what we saw with that dumb plot with Nightwing from this time that also has similar issues, in that why would Jason care enough to cause problems for Dick, he doesn't have an issue with Dick, he legit interacts with Dick in UTRH and he's fine! (a better writing decision would have been post-UTRH Jason immediately writing the entire Batfam off and treating them as hostiles whenever they wander into Crime Alley and them having to regain his trust back/him agreeing to let down more and more barriers as time goes on and they all reconnect, but I was like seven when all this was being written so DC didn't seek my input) The fucking dumb Titan's Tower thing that people are gonna use to prove that Jason hurting kids isn't bad writing isn't even about Jason, the only reason this shit gets trotted out again and again is because Tim Drake has a lot of fans who are absolutely convinced their poor uwu baby has suffered more than Jesus when the only person in the Batfam who's suffered less than him is, like, Alfred (although I can make the argument that Alfred has still suffered more by having had to put up with Bruce Wayne almost singlehandedly for most of his adult life). It exists in people's minds even tho it is objectively bad writing and out of character for one of the main players because fanon Tim has to be the most special boy ever (and also because these people wanna use it to make Tim interesting which is impossible because nothing can make Tim interesting).

Jason hurting children deliberately is, indeed, bad writing. It is, in fact, incredibly out of character. It does not compute to his explicit motivations and how he was characterized in the stories that have since been used as a jumping off point for his characterization ever since. And ultimately, the thing is this: if Red Hood Jason is just trying to do Batman's job better than Batman, who is he doing it for if not children? Who is he trying to clean up Gotham for, make Gotham a better place for, if not her children? And if that's the case, as it obviously is, why on Earth would him then harming her children be any kind of good character writing or coherent characterization?

TL;DR, yes it is.

[all-pacas]

OK, sort of followup to my post about Chase's flaws, let's talk about his strengths! Because as much as he deserves to be made fun of and punched, he does have them!

Despite, or maybe because, of his veneer of cynicism and apathy, Chase is capable of great empathy and caring. While it's true he rarely overinvests in a case the way Cameron and even Foreman do, he's shown to connect with patients pretty often from the start: the nun in Damned if You Do, the kid in Cursed and the kid in Socratic Method (honestly, throw a kid in front of Chase and he'll probably get really close to them almost immediately). He's good at dealing with people, and even though Foreman accuses the veneer of being fake in The Mistake, Stacy in the same scene mentions he always gets positive patient reviews. He can make himself likeable, he wants to be liked. No matter how superficial it might be. And that's honestly a good skill to have. As early as episode two of the show (Paternity), it's mentioned he was able to soothe the angry parents of the patient and prevent them from suing. And although his charming front is often a front, he is actually much better than Foreman, Cameron, and House at putting it on. When he dislikes a patient or is being weird and fatphobic (Heavy), he actually manages to put on a pretty professional front and not go after them with his distaste. This is sadly something the others struggle with.

He isn't driven by his ego. He's pretty laid back. That isn't to say Chase doesn't have self worth or pride or whatever (despite the spineless jokes — like, he is genuinely awful at standing up against stronger wills). He's confident in himself and his capabilities. But he's not arrogant, he doesn't take things personally. He can tolerate being disliked, he can accept being wrong, he doesn't get up in arms about perceived slights… or even real ones. He's easy-going. He has the least personal beef and grudges with his coworkers: he really does generally get along with everyone. He's not close with them, but again, he has social skills. He has charisma. While we see in the cases of his parents that he is more than capable of holding long bitter grudges forever, he doesn't hold Foreman's comments and insults against him; he forgives Cameron just about anything, it's actually notable in S8 with Nobody's Fault/Chase that he does hold an actual grudge against House for so long.

(I mean, it also doubles back to his apathy. He doesn't get that invested in things or people, so it's easier for him to not hold grudges in the long term, yeah? But the Cameron and House cases are telling, because we see and we know they are people he cares about intensely, and no matter what they do to him he is pretty forgiving. Cameron, post divorce, at their lowest point: he still goes to comfort her in the exam room. House fires him, and they go bowling.)

And again! He cares! Despite himself, against his better intentions. He's devastated when he loses the baby in Forever; he's shaken and upset in Maternity, he's ready to commit career suicide out of guilt in The Mistake. He might not care about everyone he meets, he might even try to avoid bonding, but when he does care he cares a lot.

He's clever. He really is. I would argue Foreman is still the most "book smart" of the fellows, would almost certainly beat Chase in a written exam. But Chase is clever, he's creative, he comes up with out of the box solutions. He reads his father's old papers and applies them to the present, in the Pilot he's coming up with clever workarounds; he remains the only fellow for a long time to solve cases House can't or doesn't. We see he's also very observant, and good at reading people. (Doubling back to the charisma thing again.) Private Lives shows he can read House like a book, that he's the one Wilson goes to for an insider's perspective: in After Hours he can tell 13 is lying at a glance; in Resignation and The Jerk he cuts through the Foreman resignation drama in about a second; as much as we rightfully mock Spermgate, he's also able to cut through Cameron's feelings and put his own ego aside to get at the heart of the matter. He's sharp! He really is the 'people person' of the team, able to see through others and get along with them. He's also lowkey House's Schemes Guy: House asks him a couple of times to help with a trick (Poison) or for his idea on getting past a legal roadblock. I mean, if House respects your manipulation/people skills…

He's… kinda funny? Like, for real. He doesn't take himself seriously. Foreman and Cameron, bless them both, really do. Chase likes to joke around. He likes to have fun. He laughs at House's jokes. He's sarcastic and is easily amused, he's often grinning or laughing in the background, he's not that serious.

Some of his spinelessness really is spinelessness — again, he is terrible at standing up to a larger ego — but again, he's easy-going. He's flexible. He doesn't get on moral high horses or hold onto a theory past the point of reason; there aren't really episodes where Chase interferes with a case because he thinks he knows better or has a moral issue; he doesn't cling to ideas. Arguably he should do so more; he also never quits the team in a huff. He's good at his job. He's an annoying, but easy-to-get-along-with coworker. He is far and away the least likely of the original team to do something buckwild because a patient is someone he doesn't like (Foreman in House Training and Histories) or does something he doesn't approve of (Cameron in Sleeping Dogs Lie and Fidelity). I mean, no one on this show is professional or ethical, but Chase, on a good day, is at least capable of cosplaying someone who is.

[rose-and-thorn-fanfics]

THE DARK KNIGHT FANFIC: Joker x OC (Part 1)

“Gotham University is blessed to have girls like you in attendance, Lottie Wayne," Mrs Herbert said, smiling sadly at the petite girl standing in front of her desk. "You're the only girl I know will certainly give me a straight answer about this tragic subject."

     Lottie fiddled with her uniform's skirt, trying to hide her irritation. "You mean the murder of Susan, correct?" 

     Mrs. Herbert nodded. "What do you remember about the fifteenth of September?" The administrator leaned forward in her chair, staring Lottie directly in the eyes.

     "I remember passing Susan in the hall, after Mr. Wilson's class. She was talking with her boyfriend. He seemed upset. I only saw her one time after that, in the women's restroom, braiding her hair." Lottie pretended to recollect. 

     "Nothing else?" Mrs. Herbert pressed, adjusting her blue framed cat-eye glasses.

     Lottie sighed. Her patience was wearing thin. "No. Nothing else." She forced a smile.

     "Were you friends with Susan? I'm sorry. I know it's none of my business, but I'm worried whoever was out to get Susan might be after her friends too, and if so I'd be required to make your parents aware of the potentially dangerous situation."

     Lottie paused, briefly remembering the way Susan had picked on her for having braces in college. "We were very close," Lottie lied, her doll-like dark eyes welling up with tears. 

     "Alright then, I'll make a call to your parents and let them know you'll be heading home and will not be attending college until the police find Susan's killer. Even education isn't worth risking your life."

     Lottie nodded, wiping the tears trickling down her cheek. "You're absolutely right." And with that she left the room and (once far enough from Mrs. Herbert) she started giggling uncontrollably, her long dark auburn ringlets bouncing as she skipped down the hall. Lottie turned the corner and ran straight into Maya Gardner, causing Maya to clumsily drop her books. 

     "Hey!" Maya yelped. 

     "OH! I'm sorry!" Lottie apologized. Maya was the closest thing she had to a friend. "Here, let me help you pick those books up."

     "Thanks," Maya said warmly, getting over her initial shock. She knelt down to grab the same book as Lottie, but grabbed Lottie's wrist instead, pulling her close enough to whisper in her ear. "I know what you did." Maya breathed.

     Lottie's eyes widened. "What?" There was no way. She had been SO careful not to leave any evidence of her crimes.

     "Shhh. Someone will hear you!" Maya whispered urgently. "I know what you did," she repeated, "but I want to know how you did it. I want in. Next time, you don't handle it alone."

     Lottie picked up the book and handed it to her. "No, Maya, we've been through this. Remember last time? I know you're good at keeping your mouth shut, but I need more than that. I need someone skilled."

     Maya stood up, shaking her head. "But I am good, I swear."

     Lottie stood up, and grabbed Maya's arm, dragging her down the hall, up two flights of stairs and into her dorm room, a place more private for their conversation. "You're good, but your skills are niche." Lottie sighed. "If I ever need to hack a security system, you bet you'd be the first person I'd call."

     "But-"

     "-Look, in any other scenario, I work alone. You hear me?" Lottie said shortly.

     "But you didn't this last time, did you? Someone helped you kill Susan, and I wanna know who it is." Maya said, unmistakable jealousy in her voice. "You can talk all day about working alone but September fifteenth was different." 

     Lottie looked away. Maya could read her so well. Maybe she would be useful someday. Better to have her on her side than against her.

     "Was it your boyfriend?" Maya said angrily.

     Lottie blushed. "That's assuming a lot, considering you've never met him."

     "Well, I'm not wrong though, am I?" she huffed.

     "Fine, ok? I mean, I hate having to hide shit like this all the time. Can't I kill a bitch without everyone being so nosy?" 

     "Do you love him?" Maya asked.

     "Absolutely." Lottie said, then laughed, hearing how silly that sounded.

    "-What?!"

     "-Not." Lottie quickly added, assessing the downsides of pissing off Maya Gardner.

     Maya sighed in relief. "Ok, good. You scared me there for a second. You met the guy last week. As a friend I should hope that you wouldn't fall that fast. Especially falling for a criminal."

     "Remind me why I tell you anything?" Lottie grumbled.

     Maya grinned a toothy grin. "Cause I'm cute, and absolutely irresistable." She flopped on her side on Lottie's bed. 

     "And it's a good thing too, cause if you weren't I'd slit your throat and you'd be rotting in the commons room like Susan." Lottie said, winking. The two girls giggled, and Maya tossed a pillow at Lottie.

[karimac]

...in the details, Part 13

A/N: Warning for this series: 18+ audience (minors DNI), some cinematic level violence, some fluff and angst. Doubt that smut will be involved, but it may be implied. I’ll make sure that is noted clearly if it pops up.

All relationships, at this point in the story, are platonic, but there is romance in the cards for Kari and Bucky.

Please do not repost or translate my work. Likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Taglist is open! Please send an ask, and I will gladly add you to the list. If I have added you and you do not wish to be on the list, please let me know, and I’ll take you off the list.

Word count: 5.3k, give or take a word. Not beta read. All mistakes are my own.

Masterlist

It was the morning after the final battle with the Flag Smashers, and all you wanted to do was sleep and not talk to anyone, but here you were, in your kitchen, frosting cupcakes.

Sarah Wilson had been on the phone with you earlier talking about the party she was organizing to celebrate Sam’s accepting the mantle of Captain America, and while you were not planning to actually go to the party, you decided to drop off some cupcakes for the event. And maybe that cake Sam and Bucky drooled over when they last visited your bakery. The one with the Oreo cookies all over the top.

You were not about to tell Sarah that you had gotten your clock cleaned during that fight last night. Oh no. Never admit stuff like that, even if your body was still a long way from being fully healed.

“Why do I do this to myself, Hickory?” you asked your cat as he sat on the floor near the kitchen window, the streams of light from this early Brooklyn morning splashing their sunny glow over his orange fur. “I really am a pushover. But her boys were so sweet, and I couldn’t let them not have good desserts for the party, could I?”

Hickory was a cat of many words most of the time, so his tiny mewls this morning seemed a bit off. He must have been as exhausted as you felt at the moment.

“I’ll be fine, Hickenboogie,” you said as you watched the orange tabby roll over to let the sun warm his belly. “Even if I’m making, what? A hundred cupcakes?”

As you went to set your bowl of frosting to the side, there was loud rapping at your apartment door. Someone had gotten into the building without being buzzed in. Fantastic! Just what you needed.

“Kari? Are you in there? Sarah called and asked me to check on you.”

Bucky. For crying out loud, what was he doing here? You really doubted Sarah asked him to do anything. He was likely just being nosy after last night.

“James, would you just leave me alone! I am not going to Delacroix. Just go down and have a good time. Sarah knows I’m not going to be there. I’d only be a fifth wheel anyway. I saw you flirting with her. She seems like a really nice person, and even if Sam kicks up a fuss, I think you should go for it.”

You never called Bucky by his first name. Ever. OK, maybe once in 1943. And here he was, standing outside the front door of your apartment, suddenly developing the ability to get under your skin.

“I flirt with everybody. Just ask Sam!” Bucky said a bit too loudly for your liking. The funny thing was, you remembered when Bucky flirted with everybody. That was not what he was doing now. He was trying to see if he still knew how to flirt with everyone. Very different concept, and you fully understood why he needed to be able to do it on his own terms. You also wished he were flirting with you, but you really had no one to blame for this mess except yourself.

“What exactly are you afraid of this time? I’m sure Bruce and Wong can live without seeing you for another 24 hours, or was Darcy bugging you again? You do not need to go out on some speed dating thing with her. She means well, but, you know, she doesn’t really understand how big it is for both of us,” he explained as you heard him fidgeting with the door handle. Master assassin and lock picker? Of course he’d have that skill set, but he seemed to be nothing more than antsy at the moment. Then he hit you with the question you didn’t want to hear.

“Was it what happened after Sam’s speech?”

“You mean when Walker decided to be my new best buddy and make sure I was OK?” you replied in a very fake chipper tone. “Or when you decided to start asking too many questions about my health? You don’t want me in your head. Fine. I get it. I don’t need you babysitting me. I just get tired sometimes. Especially if my empathic filtering goes off the charts. The kids in that tour bus were terrified. I drank in a lot of their pain to keep them calm. It isn’t exactly fun, Buck. And I left myself open. I am only human. I do make mistakes.”

While you did your best not to think about what happened, your mind raced as you remembered the group of grade schoolers from Cottonwood, Arizona, all scared beyond words as Flag Smashers boarded their bus. Those poor kids witnessed their driver being tossed out the door and one of their teachers being knocked out before you could even get into the bus. You had to pull out all the stops to keep them calm, even if it meant you falling apart by the end of the night.

“Can I at least come in? Your neighbors might not appreciate me playing 20 Questions outside your do…”

You flicked your hand and opened the door just as Bucky leaned into it a tad. He wasn’t expecting it, so he stumbled slightly as it opened. “Sorry. I’m kind of busy making cupcakes. I’ll get them to Sarah by tomorrow morning. And that cake you and Sam liked. The Oreo cookie one. I thought Cass and AJ might enjoy it, too.”

“You are dodging. Again,” Bucky said as he sat down on a stool near your kitchen counter. “Whoa, sorry, Hickory,” he added as the orange tabby looked up at him but then went back to sleep. “What are you trying to avoid now?”

“Buck, please. You haven’t wanted to share every memory you have, and for good reason. Some of the things that happened since we started working together, they remind me a bit too much of when my husbands died. I don’t exactly want to relive all that.”

That was only a fraction of what was going on in your life at the moment, but you were not about to drop that ton of bricks in Bucky’s lap, even if it meant you had to keep up some stupid façade and lie as if your life depended on it.

“You had two, right? Husbands,” Bucky asked as you nodded. “Can I help frost or something?”

“Yes, Galen and Thomas,” you said as you put a tray of cupcakes in front of Bucky and got him a bowl of frosting, a spatula and a knife. “Pick your instrument of choice for the frosting,” you added before you looked at Bucky’s clothes and shook your head. “Want an apron? Don’t want you messing up your Henley.”

“What does it say? The apron, I mean?” he asked as you grabbed him a plain blue one. “Oh. No jokes on it?”

“Not everything is a joke, Buck. Not for me. Not for anyone,” you sniffed as you tried to hold back a stray tear before you got another pan of cupcakes and a bowl of frosting. You were still not fully pain free from what happened to those kids or to yourself. “Once the frosting sets, we can put these little shields on top of the cupcakes. I know. Cheesy. But the kids should love them.”

“Hmmm…” Bucky said as he tried to slather the frosting on his first cupcake without using too much. “I’m not exactly good at this…”

“You will be fine. It takes practice,” you whispered as you set down another frosted cupcake. “Thanks for helping. What else do you want to know about me?” Your hands shook slightly, and you flexed them a bit to get yourself centered again. “Lingering issues after that mess on the bus. I couldn’t go in sword swinging, so I had to take a different tack. It was a spell Wong told me about. Got the kids off the bus and me onto it just in time to take out that fool. It switches people’s locations. Nice one to keep in my back pocket. Just wish I had seen that other lunatic behind the driver’s seat.”

“Yeah, I saw the kids appear on the sidewalk before you blasted that guy out the doors of the bus,” Bucky noted as he kept frosting more cupcakes. “Kids. Did you ever have them? I mean, you like them. You get along great with Cass and AJ. And again, sorry if I got stupid on the docks. Joke fell really flat.”

You were not about to go back to the talk about that mess on the docks. Not today anyway. “Sadly, no. I’ve never had children.”

That wasn’t true. Not exactly anyway. But there was no way you could explain everything without looking like a lunatic. Saying “Well, a part of me that lives in another universe has about five of them last time I counted. I can list them all from all the timelines. I was tasked with birthing an army. No one ever said how…”

Yeah, that sounded so very sane and normal.

“Not that I don’t want them still,” you continued as you found some patriotic sprinkles in your cupboard. “It just never worked out for me. And I didn’t want to adopt a child on my own just to have me die and leave them alone. That would be cruel. And what agency would let someone like me adopt a child? It just isn’t very realistic to think it is even possible.”

You wanted nothing more than to change the topic, but you said Bucky could ask you questions, so in this quagmire you would stay for the moment.

“That day Steve and Sam had me in that vice,” Bucky started but stopped just as he finished another cupcake. “Why the hell did you do what you did to prove who you were? I knew who you were. Steve knew. You didn’t need to sing that song…”

“I needed to prove who I was because, let’s face it, who in their right mind—besides you and Steve, I guess—would believe my story? And Sam. Bless his heart, he doesn’t think I escaped Bellevue.” Bucky chuckled at the name of the most famous psychiatric hospital in New York City. “Was my singing that bad? I did flub some of the words, I know, but I didn’t think I was that bad.”

“Your singing was never an issue,” Bucky chuckled as a bit of frosting slid off one cupcake. “And the way you did that thing with the drinks was great. I remember that from the Whip and Fiddle. But you didn’t need to put on a show. Not for us anyway.”

“It’s always an issue, Bucky,” you said quietly as you noticed the vanilla frosting you had been using was running low, so you got out the ingredients to make more. “I always need to prove myself. I…did Steve ever tell you about what happened during the five years you were gone? Not my most shining hours.”

“The thing that scared everyone? Yeah, he told me, but I didn’t want to broadcast it to anyone. I don’t understand what makes you you,” Bucky said as he set down his knife and cupcake, “and I was not about to dredge up what happened. You were trying to get us back. Steve said you kind of lost it when it didn’t work. And Tony…”

“Tony wanted to lock me away in a padded cell, but Thor told him to stop, because he understood my grief. And Bruce told Tony to give it a rest because I was trying things that none of them could. Steve took me to the infirmary so I could heal when it all came crashing down. I was weaker than I realized. He saved my life. IV fluids can work wonders when you push yourself too much.”

“Wait, what? What did you do?” Bucky was suddenly very agitated, and you were not fully focused on his tone and body language at first. He was truly freaked out.

“What?” you asked as your eyes bugged out a little bit when it finally hit you. “Oh! No. I wasn’t doing…”

It took you much too long to realize Bucky was worried you had done some odd, old and draining blood spell. You had done them long, long ago, but that was back before electricity was the norm.

“It was a very old spell, one my Mamo used when I was a baby when she wanted to talk to the deceased members of our clan. Sorry. My grandmother. Mamo is the Irish word for grandma. It just takes a toll on your spirit, and I tried it a few times before Bruce saw me naked as a jay bird in the gardens they had at the facility. Yeah, that is part of the spell too, as is doing it on Samhain. Halloween. But there was no one there to talk to, so continuing to do it made it worse. As I said, not my finest hour. It broke me when I couldn’t find your spirit…”

Now it was Bucky’s turn to look at you with saucer-like eyes.

“Well, I couldn’t try to zero in on a million different people, so I picked you. I tried Sam, too, but it was like you guys never existed. If I were to do the spell this year, I’d be able to see any number of people across the veil. My family. Your family. Natasha and Tony. Loki. That night? I saw no one except my siblings, and while I love them, I knew they would be there. That failure sent me reeling. I didn’t talk for days. And we both know that could not be normal.”

“For two minutes, could you please stop with the put downs? Some of us don’t like to hear them. Me. Sam. Sarah. The boys…”

“I am so used to people just working around them that I don’t…” you started to say before you set down everything and just pulled up a stool next to the one Bucky was sitting on. “I don’t realize how it affects everyone else. Sorry.”

Bucky started to chuckle, and then he let out a loud laugh. “Your hair. Frosting,” he said as he pointed to a few wisps that were now very sticky from the vanilla frosting making a few spikes on the tips.

“Didn’t catch it all in the hairband. Again,” you muttered as you started to laugh along with Bucky. “Why did you really show up today, Buck? It can’t be because your inner baker was screaming to come out and play.”

“Last night was scary. You zoned out, and that scared me and Sam. We thought you were dying. We have no idea how this all works with you, and I’ve been afraid to ask. Steve was, too, I guess, and Sam, when you guys were in hiding.”

“Why are you remembering all this nonsense about me?” That was the only thing you could say as you looked Bucky in the eye and prayed something from your past was not trying to catch up with you again. “Or better yet worrying so much about me?”

“And why do you remember things about me?” he asked with an equally deadpan expression. “We are both old. We’re both likely going to outlive most of the people around us now, at least for a little while. Being connected is…nice. Now, back to last night. What happened?”

“After I helped those kids, I did exactly what you said. I zoned when I cracked my head on that building. I can go into a fugue state and start connecting in weird ways to the world around me. I knew you were there, but my brain wasn’t connecting all the dots. If that makes sense.”

That last part you hated. You wanted nothing more than to tell Bucky everything about your life. How the person he saw was only a tiny part of everything you were. That at this very moment there was another Kari dancing with another Bucky at something called the Hellfire Gala in a world where a group called The X-Men were protectors alongside The Avengers. She was thanking him for an assist a very long time ago on the steps of the Winter Palace in St. Petersburg, if killing her was truly an assist. Yes, that Kari was reborn thanks to the bladed excellence of The Winter Soldier, but this part of Kari could not tell Bucky all that. Not yet anyway.

“Do you want some coffee? A beer? I should have asked when you got here,” you said as you looked down to see Hickory had finally decided to get up and go eat his kibble while you chatted with Bucky.

“Beer, thanks. I just wanted to convince you to come down to Delacroix, mostly so everyone can see for themselves that you are OK. I know once Wong and Bruce get involved, it may take weeks until we see you again. And Parker. That trip of his for school.”

“Look, Sarge,” you started to say as you handed Bucky the beer. His eyes lit up, so the nickname seemed to be a good choice. “If it will make you feel better, then down to Delacroix I’ll go. But you and I can go together. I am going to need help hauling these cupcakes. But I may not stay the whole time. Does that work for you?”

“Yup,” Bucky said as he drank his beer. “And the Sarah thing…”

“Look, if you and Sarah hit it off, well, that is beautiful. You deserve happiness, Buck. I am not going to stand in the way of your happiness. Ever.”

{{Even if it would make me happier being with you}} you thought as you smiled at Bucky again.

“And yes, I know Sam is likely sticking his oar into the water and messing it up for you guys. Having eight brothers taught me a lot, and I am betting you might have played the part yourself back in the day, right? Maybe I can help there, if you need me to? Your call.”

“Whatever happens, well, happens,” Bucky noted as he looked at the tray of tiny shields again. “I think we all want the day to be about Sam. That’s what really matters.”

“Agreed,” you said as you looked at all the cupcakes and smiled. “Now, want to learn how to make that cake? Care to smash up some cookies for me to mix in the batter?”

The rest of the baking session with Bucky went well enough, and you were able to box everything and have it ready to portal to Delacroix the next morning when he made it back to your place. You made sure your portal was near the house but around the back so no one could get spooked by it. You just wished the rest of the team could have been there, but there was technically no team at the moment anyway.

You smiled as you watched Bucky run over to the table where Sam, Sarah and the boys were sitting, with Cass and AJ trying to get Bucky into some sort of play fight as he brought over the cake.

“So, this is the famous cake?” Sarah asked as you pulled a small red wagon full of cupcakes behind you. “Sam has talked about this cake for weeks. Thanks for making it.”

“Hey, anything for our new Cap and his family!” you replied as a group of kids came over to check out the wagon’s load of goodies. “There are plenty of these to go around, but I think you guys better eat your lunches first.”

“Are you going to show us any magic?” Cass asked as you sat down at the table with everyone.

“Guys, what did we talk about?” Sam said as you looked at everyone there and realized this was not going to be a simple picnic event for Sam.

“We can talk about that later. Maybe when everyone else heads home,” you said quietly as you looked at the boys and then Sarah. “And only if your Mom is OK with it. Her house. Her rules. Always.”

You really had not been planning on any sort of show today, but letting Sarah have the final call was likely the easiest way to keep this sort of thing away from prying eyes. Not everyone liked magic, and that was no exception for this part of Louisiana. The preternatural might have been more accepted here, but it was still not a thing everyone loved or fully understood.

The conversation, thankfully, turned to much more mundane things, and you were very happy it did when you saw Bucky and Sarah chatting as the boys and their friends tried to hang off Bucky’s arm. It looked right. He looked stress-free and happy for the first time in ages.

“And is that what you were hoping for?” Sam asked as he, too, watched his nephews hanging off Bucky’s arm. “That cyborg and my sister would hit it off? I thought you two were, you know, getting closer? Beer?”

You looked at the bottle in Sam’s hand. Crimson Voodoo. A local favorite indeed.

“Thanks,” you said as you took the bottle from his hand and tried to convince yourself and Sam that this is what you wanted. “Sam, Bucky deserves a family. He deserves peace and happiness. Your sister deserves someone who thinks the world of her and can take care of her and the boys. It’s a win-win. My life is too messed up for anyone to feel at peace with me. Someday I’ll try to explain everything, but today is not that day. Today is your day.”

As it started to get dark outside, no one seemed to be heading home, and the kids were a bit upset that there were no fireworks set up to cap off the night.

“Guess I need to take care of this,” you said under your breath as you got to your feet and walked toward Sarah and the boys. “Sarah, I can fix this, but as I said before, your house, your rules.”

“You have fireworks in your bag?” Sarah chuckled as she shook her head. “Wait. You aren’t kidding.”

“Nope, I’m not,” you replied as you walked to the end of the pier where the kids were all looking pretty forlorn. “Sam, a gift for you and your family and friends here today,” you said as you turned to look at everyone there. Sparks started to dance on your fingertips, and soon the night sky filled with magically-created fireworks. “A gift from the Tara Mount and from Asgard,” you added as more pyrotechnics danced above the crowd. “Frigga and Loki showed me this trick long ago. It’s only fitting to share it tonight.”

“What the hell is that on your back?” Sarah asked as you slowly lifted off the ground.

“I forgot you’ve never seen these,” you said to Sarah as your raven wings unfurled. “I need to get a bit of lift before I do the next part.”

Sure, Sam and Bucky had seen you fly. But the dance you were about to do was not anything you had done since, well, the day your cousin Rhys got married to his beautiful bride Alice back in the 1850s! Oh, that was a bit of craic! Well, it would have been more fun if Rhys’ sister Rhiannon had not fed that dragon wedding cake and Champagne on top of Westminster.

“I usually don’t do this for anyone but family, but if you all are Captain America’s extended family, then that is good enough for me,” you said as your wings slowly transformed to something akin to gossamer and glitter, the light of the fireworks dancing off the delicate lacework of the fairy wings you now sported on your back. “My grandmother, Siofra O’Cathain MacOrish, was called the Black Faerie of the battlefield. Tonight I wear these wings to thank her for making it possible to be here with you today.”

As you hovered in mid-air, you started to dart over the water, well clear of the shore and the boats anchored there. The sky lit up with a multicolored display that at times looked like ribbons of red, white and blue and at others like the giant bursts of color in the event that Macy’s held each July 4th on the East or Hudson Rivers in New York City. The shrieks of delight from the children made it all worthwhile as you finally landed back on the dock after about 15 minutes of flash and sizzle.

Maybe it was the music that helped make it special? No one could tell exactly where it was coming from because it was all around them. A bit of remembered sound from your cousin’s wedding night and a snatch of air current, and suddenly the air was full of a song played long ago on a starry night for your tribe back then, the lovely lot you called The Avalonians.

The flight was glorious, and you wondered why you did not do it more often over the years.

The way you did not stick the landing, on the other hand, was annoying. Especially when Sam, Sarah and Bucky ran over. The lift of raven-like angel’s wings was one thing in battle, but the faerie wings on your back now were another thing entirely. The fact you had not called them out in over 100 years meant you had forgotten much about maneuvering in them once you got back to Terra Firma.

“I am fine!” you protested as you finally pulled back your wings and flexed your arms a bit. “Just didn’t time the footfall properly. I am not Simone Biles by any means. She would have aced it.”

“No more jokes. You could have gotten hurt,” Bucky said as he reached out his hand to you, but you pulled back slightly as he did. Muscle memory was a bitch at times, and a tiny part of you could not help but remember Katowice, St. Petersburg, Budapest and several other places where you and Bucky did more bodily harm to each other than you had let on to anyone else. Even Steve never knew the full extent of the battles you and his best friend were part of over the years. It was probably better that way.

“It’s nothing that a good night’s sleep won’t fix. I’m still not right after that mess with the bus,” you answered as Sarah shot you the mother of all looks. “Even old warriors like me need time to heal.”

“You could have said something,” Sarah said as she just kept looking at you, concern and pain mixed in equal measure in her eyes. “You did not have to bring all that food, and you did not need to do all that fireworks stuff. These two said you’d pull some crazy stunt eventually...”

“And they were right,” you replied, tucking your hands behind your back so the slight tremor you felt was not visible to everyone else. “Because, well, this is how I was raised. Never say no when your help is needed. Always take care of family, even if you are dead on your feet. Leave a place better than you found it if at all possible…”

“Kari, did your fireworks have a finale you didn’t mention?” Bucky asked as he pointed behind you, a multicolored fissure opening above the bayou waters.

“That isn’t me!” you shouted as the raven wings of your office appeared, along with your armor, sword and shield. “Get everyone to safety! Now!”

“Wait. Is that a Quinjet?” Sam shouted as he worked to get everyone off the dock as quickly as possible as a plane maneuvered through the fissure.

“No, that’s the Zephyr…” you said as you stood with our mouth open. “SHIELD ship that vanished a few years ago. Fury was never able to track it down.”

The jet landed on the shore away from several houses, and you, Bucky and Sam made your way to the landing site. By now, thanks to some quick thinking by Cass and AJ, Sam had his shield at the ready, but you prayed he would not have to use it.

“SHIELD ship Zephyr One. Damn,” you muttered under your breath as you got to the now lowered ramp. “I thought you were dead! And so does Fury!” you said as two men made their way to the top of the ramp.

Standing in front of you were Phil Coulson and Daniel Sousa.

“Nice to see you again, Chief,” Coulson said as Sousa gave him an odd look. “One of my trainers back in the day.”

“And Peggy Carter’s best friend in mine,” Sousa added the duo was soon joined by Melinda May.

“She never told you? Either of you? She was the original 0-8-4,” May noted as she walked down the ramp.

“No, I helped Howard Stark coin the term,” you growled as you looked at May. “The world knows full well where I am from and how long I have walked this ground. I’m just a hell of a lot older than I look.”

“Oh my God, we are home,” Daisy Johnson said as she walked up next to Sousa, his arm snaking around her waist, leaving no question about their status as a couple. You had heard about the Inhuman’s encounters with some preternatural allies, and you wanted to hear more about that, as well as how Sousa was actually there with them now.

“Home?” Bucky whispered in your ear as Sam leaned in to hear his comments.

“If you weren’t home, where were you?” you asked Coulson as the rest of his team filtered off the ship. You vaguely knew them by physical attributes, but not all the names were clicking in your mind at the moment.

“I was hoping you might be able to tell us,” he said as you looked at him, and you could tell already this was not the Phil Coulson you knew. Not totally anyway. “From our calculations, we’ve been gone about five years.”

“The blip,” Sam said as you shook your head. “Oh, tá sé seo ach iontach. I mean, this is just great,” you said as you rolled your eyes. “You lot like cupcakes, right? Please say you like cupcakes. And beer.”

You grabbed Bucky’s hand without thinking and prayed he could actually hear the words you were thinking in that crazy link of Wanda’s. {{I wanted this to be a happy day for Sam. Not one where his family would be in the middle of this nonsense. I’ll get them all out of here fast. Just…could you please help me figure this out?}}

A brief nod let you know Bucky heard at least some of your request.

“Sarah, I’ll get these folks out of here and back to New York ASAP. I just hope I can find Maria Hill or Nick Fury. How do I explain that their world is about to get turned upside down again?”

My wonderful tag crew--thank you!: @historygeekfics, @arrthurpendragon, @starryeyes2000, @chickensarentcheap

And up to lucky Part 14—What in the world do you do with Agents of SHIELD if there is no more SHIELD? And how will the surviving OG Avengers feel when they learn Phil Coulson is not quite as dead as Nick Fury lead them to believe?

[adamwatchesmovies]

The Matrix Reloaded (2003)

When talking about The Matrix Reloaded, we need to remember a few things. Firstly, this is very much a “Part 1”. At the time, we knew a sequel was coming (there’s a trailer for The Matrix Revolutions at the end of the credits) and now you’ll have no trouble watching the films back-to-back so the inconclusive ending isn't an issue. Secondly, we should consider the entertainment factor. This movie has a lot of ideas that may or may not completely come together in the end. It definitely feels more than a little self-important at times. Does that matter when it also features what might be the most exciting, action-packed chase scene of all time, dazzling special effects and the kind of fight choreography most action films could only dream of? Maybe, but only so much.

Neo (Keanu Reeves) has done it. He got the girl (Carrie-Anne Moss as Trinity), defeated the villain (Hugo Weaving as Agent Smith) and now navigates the Matrix like it’s his personal playground. Morpheus (Lawrence Fishburne) believes it’s only a matter of time before the prophecy is fulfilled and all of humanity is freed from the clutches of the artificial world. When the city of Zion learns a mechanical army will arrive to destroy it within 72 hours, those who’ve escaped the Matrix are divided by what they should do next.

Looking back, The Matrix is a hard science fiction film with elements that would fit more comfortably in a fantasy. I don’t mean the power fantasy that it is. All of the talks about prophecies and “the one”, the Oracle (Gloria Foster), the use of mythological and biblical names like Trinity, Morpheus, Zion, and Nebuchadnezzar make you wonder if the mechanical menaces are stand-ins for demons or Greek monsters. Some of it you assumed was just “sounds cool hacker lingo” but The Matrix Reloaded doubles down on the mysticism. Many of the programs we meet allegedly serve a function within the Matrix but you’re unsure how that could work. “People” like the Merovingian (Lambert Wilson) and his wife, Persephone (Monica Bellucci) seem more concerned with their strained marriage and petty squabbles than maintaining a sense of order within the Matrix. At least programs like the Keymaker (Randall Duk Kim) can be traced to useful functions but others leave you scratching your head. I can’t say if it’s intentional or not that the digital entities we meet are virtually indistinguishable from the real humans living outside. Either it says something about the way the machines - once eager to prove their superiority to humans because of what made them different from their fleshy creators (as shown in “The Animatrix”) have “devolved” into beings concerned with petty subjects like who’s sleeping with who, childish grudges and amassing more power in a virtual world, or this series doesn’t really have a concrete direction and is just a neat concept that conveniently allows the Wachowskis (who once again write and direct) to bring their childhood fantasies to life for all to see.

The questions surrounding the film’s ultimate goal and the authorial intent can pull you out of it for a moment but you’ll be sucked back in by the incredible action scenes. It’s a shocker to see Agent Smith back (once again hinting at some confused objectives behind the scenes) but his first confrontation with Neo is the stuff of legends. Long, well-choreographed, consistently exciting and memorable, the scene makes you wonder “How did they do that”? over and over. Some have accused the special effects of being dated (wouldn’t be a surprise considering the film is now 18 years old) but that’s only the case if you watch the clip in isolation. As part of a continuous flow within the film, you don’t see the seams.

As impressive as the “Burly Brawl” may be, it’s nothing compared to the “Highway Chase”. The latter begins with our heroes pitted against the kind of opponents that could only come from the artificial world. As Neo desperately races to save his friends, Morpheus, Trinity and the Keymaker are pursued by “The Twins” (Neil and Adrian Rayment). They're programs from an older iteration of the Matrix that used ghosts, vampires, werewolves, etc. to maintain order rather than Agents. Our leather-clad, sunglasses-wearing superhero protagonists have to go up against phantasms who can become intangible at will. How do you defeat one of those? You can’t. All you can do is run. Racing down the highway at blinding speeds would be enough of a challenge. With these two on their tails AND Agents who are drawn to the flagrant rule-breaking? It seems impossible, which is why the sequence is so exciting. You’ve got no idea how this will end. To get out alive, our heroes will have to invent all sorts of new tricks, guaranteeing that you’ll be talking about this movie with your friends for weeks.

Those are only two scenes. We also have elaborate heists, sabotage that threatens everything, shocking revelations about the world inside and outside the Matrix, fascinating concepts introduced and loads of memorable characters. Some of The Matrix Reloaded doesn’t come together the way it should (or maybe it will in the next movie, don’t be too quick to judge) but this is the kind of picture that makes you go “WOW!” frequently - even if you don’t understand it all. (On Blu-ray, January 1, 2022)

[starlightshadowsworld]

Bendy and the dark revival part 5

Thonks

The keepers have taken my friend! Locked him away like some animal! Just because he's big and strong.

But they don't need go after him! No! If they just make sure to feed him in time, Big Steve won't ever hurt a fly!

He loves the food from "the little Devil lounge" best.

If only someone one take the long road back through the sewers, climb up the elevator shaft and seek out his favourite thumping delicacy.

Then they would see how harmless he really is!

... I have... So many questions.

Big Steve?

Also this just feels like a trap.

.

Looks at giant ink monster

... I'm guessing this is Big Steve.

.

Jeez no wonder Bendy didn't wanna come here, the keepers have been torturing him.

Poor lil guy.

... Least I think so, can't quite hear the keepers logs.

Doesn't help that they sound like a glitchier version of Daleks and there's no subtitles. And my ears don't work too good.

.

One food run later, Big Steve happily noms.

.

That's where the ghosts live. Just beyond that door.

The keepers prison.

The Pit.

No one ever comes out, at least not the same.

Thanks, Heidi? For that creepy exposition. So your a lost one like Port.

Wonder if that's where the ink machine is?

But! I could open the door for you. I do know how! I really do!

I sense a catch here.

But first, may we play a game.

There it is.

Hide and seek in a creepy parallel ink world, fun.

.

Found ya.

Doors open and, she gave us a new ability.

Cool.

Looks at mark getting mad cos it would've saved him so much time earlier.

Or not.

.

Decontamination activated

..

How.. How are decontaminising ink? And for what??

.

Excuse me?

Hmm who would be in this world that kinda looks like a ghost like Joey did and is drawing in a prison

... Henry?

You must be really lost to be asking me for help.

It is Henry!

Why would you be a threat to them?

I'm what they call a Cyclebreaker. Once upon a time I knew how to start althe cycle over. And when that happens everything begins again.

Yup you've done that, many times.

Obviously Wilson and the keepers don't want that to happen.

Heh Wilson and the keepers, sounds like a band.

It turns out the Ink demon himself is the key. This world is his, but even he must obey it's rules.

For now at least.

If you can get him to look at something very specific, it will reset everything.

It's a real of film. Labeled, the end.

Ohhh in the first game, that's what he looked at before he turned into beast Bendy... And than it was over.

Makes sense if its the way to break the cycle if that's how Henry's been doing it for over 400 times.

They keep it upstairs in the Pit.

That's convenient.

I just wanna go home.

So did I.

Yeah that sympathy for Joey is fading... Guilty of not you still damned your best friend to his own personal inky hell.

Of your creation.

.

Annnd giant Betram Piedmont head statue is just... Here.

Oh shit is everyone from the last game minus Alison Angel and Sci Boris here?

Because they can't really die because of the ink and I'm betting Wilson would've locked em up.

Cos he's the worst.

... 👀Could Boris be here???

I mean, Heidi did say this is where the ghosts are.

... And Henry's spy glass thing is in contraband.

.

Are you worthy to walk with angels

Jee wonder who wrote that?

And there's someone playing I think that's a banjo??

Sammy!

Sat right in his werid inky summoning circle with his candles and mask on the ground.

Subject 418.

Missed you bud.

.

There's always hope

By a desk, I'm guessing that's Henry's.

And it showed up on the door Joey was standing next to.

.

Idk if its me but the Keepers are giving Projectionist vibes.

.

And from the hollowed darkness, from the wretched abyss a saviour comes at last.

Oh fuck off Wilson.

And we're laying unconscious in a lift with him. As he watches us.

... Why..

Rest yourself, Audery.

I'll be honest, inky and glowing he looks bout the same.

And no, how can anyone rest with you there?!

Your still weak.

I can still kick you where it hurts.

The keepers can be relentless to strangers. But there's nothing to fear, as long as I'm with you.

Your safe now.

... How is you get more creepier by the second..?

Does Joey's ghost know that your with his daughter?

Don't think he'd be happy with it.

You bought me here, you turned me into this... This thing!

This doesn't make sense! I've never done anything to you!

You haven't, but your gonna wanna..

Open your eyes and look around you!

Ah yes, ink, paper just like the last time I looked.

None of this makes sense.

The one thing I agree with you on... That felt icky to say.

Also get back bub!

Drawn walls. Nightmarish creatures.

Drawn walls does, that's pretty normal tbh. Nightmarish creatures, yeah makes sense.

An ancient studio that died out almost 30 years ago.

No that makes sense as well.

It's all fiction.

Careful, he's becoming self aware.

Reality guided by its masters pen.

Noo it was the ink machine.

The franchise isn't Bendy and the masters pen.

What do u want from me?

I need your help, to save my father's life.

Nope.

Nope not helping. Your father's probably worse than you.

And why is your father here?

What is with all the dad's here???

Also how dare you think you can do all this, do this to me and than demand I owe you anything?!

I said it before, and I'll say it again.

Fuck you Wilson!

And chapter 5 the dark revival begins.

This place isn't as safe as it once was.

Because your here.

.

Walks past keeper choking out a lost one

... OooKay than.

.

The demons evil continues to spread.

Than maybe stop getting around.

The world has begun to shutter

Because of you not allowing the cycle to go on.

He's lying Audery!

Hey Bendy, no yeah I believe you over him.

Be quiet!

Damn Audery.

What did you say?

It was nothing

Ohh so Bendy's talking, telepathically?

Probably for the best, Wilson would go nuts if he knew.

.

Oh and he's just shut us in here... Of course.

And there's a gun.

Hehe.

.

Jeez we're in everyone praises Wilson land with his Relax poster everywhere.

Creepy.

.

Welcome to the civilised world.

If civilised means people wanna line up and kiss your ass... I'd rather be a savage.

How do you like my signal towers?

How do you like my right hook?

They nullify the ink demons powers so he cannot pass them.

So no bendy zone.

How long did it take to come up with this?

... How long have we been here?

I wish I could say I invented them, but it seems our friends at the Gent Corporation had a demon problem of their own, long ago.

... Hmmm...a demon like Bendy?

Who's this lady?

Now my dear if you'll excuse me. I have a lot to prepare. We'll talk later, I promise.

Take all the time you need.

..

Also is that a portrait of yourself behind you with you holding a sword to a cowering picture of Bendy?

The ego on you... Also again, how long have we been here that you hag that painted.

I'm assuming painted cos that never happened for a photo to be taken.

Besides you must be very tired.

Tired of your bullshit.

A quick rest will do you good. Betty will show you too your room.

So this creepy maid looking genderbent eyeless Jack Lady is called Betty?

She's my housekeeper.

I'd have goouged my eyes out too if I was your house keeper, poor lady.

Among other things.

... To reiterate, poor Betty.

You never actually killer the ink demon, did you?

Call him out Audery.

No. He's too powerful to destroy.

Imagining Bendy just sat smirking like 😏 yup im too powerful.

So we sealed him away, trapped him in a different form.

One that was smaller, harmless.

... You made baby Bendy...

It was a fitting prison.

Grrrr

Although he seems to have found a way to free himself.

Because your pathetic and he's too powerful. Also no we will not be dealing with that

There's some nice fresh blankets all laid out for you. You'll be dreaming in no time.

Betty... Betty, tap twice if your being held against your will.

Wait Wilson. One more thing, if you needed my help, why didn't you just ask?

Would you have believed me?

... Yeah.

Yeah if you mentioned it after we got sent here and clearly you don't care if we did or not.

Wouldn't have believed me, like your speech earlier was any better.

Smh.

Come along! And no more dawdling this way now.

Through... The same door as Wilson... Oh boy.

Ah you're here at last, it's so exciting having you with us!

... Soo exciting...

Now, to give you some bearings, we're currently in the south wing. Wilsons laboratory is downstairs.

A wing? How fancy is this place? What is this a palace?... More like a tower where the princess is locked up.

So the ink demon is why the north wing is locked up and if I go there I'll be ripped to shreds if I don't go with Wilson.

Good to know.

It's not very often I have guests to look after. Almost everyone here either can't speak or they're completly mad.

... And what Betty, makes you different?

Finest bedroom here you should see where I sleep, ew.

Wilson got you in some nasty servants quarters? Fuck him you get this room when I bust out.

... I don't trust that "sleeping draft"...

Is it always night here?

It's always dark if that's what you mean.For as long as I can remember.

Are you... Very old.

Audery! You cant just ask that.

No, as far as I understand, I'm something quite new. Although, I didn't turn out the way I was supposed to.

So she came from the ink machine?

One in a long line of failed experiments.

Ohh she's one of Wilsons experiments.

But Wilson will keep trying.

And do you trust Wilson.

This is the realm of the ink demon his shadow hangs over us all I don't trust anyone.

Smart lady.

But Wilson takes care of me.

You poor thing.

Keeps me safe, he once said I remind him of something he called his mother.

Hes trying to save his father and his mother has preseumbly passed on and he's trying to recreate her?

Tell me is that a good thing. Where you too are from.

I'm not sure.

... Same...

I mean you remind him of his mother so much so he preseumbly gave you her name.

And he makes you sleep in what seems like nasty servants quarters, and keeps you around as your house keeper.

.... Doesn't paint a good picture...

And he'll keep trying until she's, what? Till he's perfectly recreated her?

And if that's his mother, what about his father?

.

I erm think we'll give the sleeping draft a miss... Don't take it Audery... Don't!

.

[unknownjpegs]

cold

Benny watches with blinking, pale blue eyes as Benji absolutely crashes through the side door to the bar. He exists dramatically, his foot kicking the door shut behind him as both hands wind up into his inky curls. It’s cold out—and he has no jacket on, so he also flinches immediately. His hands fall from his hair so his arms can tuck around his chest. Benny takes a long drag on his cigarette, wondering when Benji will notice there’s someone else in the side alley.

He doesn’t. Not for a long moment, where he stands there, shoulders hunched and tightened up to his ears. Benji glares at the opposing brick wall and it’s hilarious, awful graffiti. But his eyes are distant, like he isn’t reading the FUCK YOU TODD WILSON DIE IN A HOLE tag or the lovely WILL DO THANKS BABE scrawled beneath it. Benny flicks ash off his cigarette and then clears his throat.

“What?” Benji snaps, turning his head to the side. When he finds Benny standing there, hands raised in mock surrender, it makes his chin tilt down and his eyes narrow. His brows pull in, put lines between them. Xavier swears up and down Benji’s the nicest person he’s ever met; Benny believes it, truly. He just has a way of making even the kindest people a little on edge.

“Cold,” Benny replies, gesturing around them. It’s dark out, too. The emergency lights outside the bar barely illuminate the little area they’re in. Down further, the alleyway spits out onto the main street, but it’s late. Too late for there to be much traffic or noise or light. “Wa-Want my jacket?” He offers with a big, condescending grin. Benji’s dark eyes narrow further. “Kidding.”

You prefer Carhartt, don’t you? Maybe from a red head, not a blond. Ben slinks forward, offering up his packet of cigarettes instead.

Benji stares at the olive branch, brows slowly smoothing.

“M’tryin’ to quit.”

Benny taps the pack on his thigh until a cigarette comes loose, filter out just enough that Benji could pluck it free if he wanted. Then he holds it up again, head tilted. His smile is still snide, eyes sleepy. But, it’s a gesture none the less. Let’s stay out here, together. Let’s avoid people we’d rather be with. Right?

“C’mon. It—It’s me. Everyone gets to—to make bad decisions a-around me.” Benji reaches for the cigarette and as he does, Benny slips his hand into his pocket and pulls his zippo. He tosses it; impressed that Benji can both put the cigarette into his mouth with one hand and catch the lighter with the other. He’s smooth with his motions as he strikes the lighter and holds the flame to the end of the cigarette.

Benji is good looking. Handsome, really. Prominent nose, facial hair that grows in nice. Curly hair pushed back from his forehead, strands still falling forward, framing his face. He looks mean most of the time, but Benny knows a thing or two about looking mean. Usually, he catches a guy like Benji in an alley and he’d be trying to find a way to make this into something more. Kissing against a graffitied brick wall maybe. Can nearly imagine his hands on Benji’s hips, can almost picture himself on his knees.

Except, every time he tries, Xavier’s stupid fucking face pops up.

“Noisy,” Benny supplies lamely, gesturing to the bar beside them. A car passes by the mouth of the alleyway, the headlights flickering along them.

“A bit,” Benji replies, taking a long, satisfied drag on the cigarette. He tilts his head back and blows smoke into the air. His hand extends, the lighter in his brown palm. Benny takes the chance to step closer, swiping the zippo and pocketing it in his jacket.

“Xavier m-must have really annoyed you.”

“What?”

“Comin’ out here with—with no jacket,” Benny grins, that slash of a sleazy smile on his face. He gestures with his own cigarette, like it isn’t obvious that Benji is only in a flimsy, well worn t-shirt. He’s almost positive, actually, that he’s seen Xavier in that exact shirt. “You fi-finally getting tired of his chatter?”

“Rather his than yours, mate.” Benji shifts a little. Not away from Benny, turning slightly so they’re facing each other. Like maybe he’s about to dress Ben down for it. He has mocking rights to Xavier—he lives with the man, whereas Benji looks like he just wishes he lived with Xavier.

Lark is oblivious. Will stay oblivious probably until something eventually happens—if it ever happens. But if Benji sometimes catches Benny staring at Maran, he’s caught Benji fucking mooning over Xavier. He’s caught them sharing looks and bending their heads together to talk. He’s found them tangled on the couch, crashed after class. He’s watched Benji look at Xavier’s hands, just his hands. Benny is not Lark. He’d noticed the first time Benji had taken Xavier’s waist in hand to maneuver around him and watched those hands flex and curl and uncurl and flex again the second they’d left Xavier’s sides.

“He was wor-worse when he was w-with his ex.” Ben watches Benji’s shoulders tighten back up, rise a little. Not just because of the cold. He takes a long pull on his cigarette as if to distract himself. Benny does too, but he’s smiling a little too wide, grinning at the terrible pinch between Benji’s brows.

“Know about Daisy,” he says, looking Ben’s way. His eyes flicker over him, assessing. “Mar’s ex too.”

Benny drops the cigarette and stomps his foot onto the crumbling red embers. Fucking Daisy. Of course. Fucking—Fucking Daisy. It makes his veins feel tight, the inside of his chest cold and empty and hollow. He clears his throat again, runs a hand back through his moppish blond hair and attempts his usual snide smile. It wavers a bit. Fucking Daisy.

“I mean Adam.” Benji’s cigarette drops too, but he gets the feeling it was an accident. “You—You dunno about A-Adam?” Benny tosses his head back and laughs, the sound an absolutely loud crack.

Well of course now. Daisy moved into Xavier’s life like a fucking whirlwind. For the year they dated, his instagram had become nothing but a fucking movie reel of the two of them. Xavier was a picture guy—wasn’t really a social media person so much as the sort of guy that captures everything in photos. All memories. His camera roll was full of pictures of all of them—Even you, Benji. Trust me. Even you.

But still. It was probably easy to look at Xavier, look at that stupid fucking ex girlfriend and make plenty of assumptions. Benny didn’t really blame Benji. And he had no intention of leaning in and telling Benji that Xavier was fucking insane over him. That he trotted out the bedroom in a good mood, staring at his phone and Ben could just guess it was a text from him. He could, and wouldn’t, tell Benji that Xavier talked about him, all the time. That he was constantly revolving plans around Benji’s schedule so he could come to.

He could definitely make sure Benji didn’t walk around thinking Xavier was straight though.

“He was—is—a r-ro—rower at the University. Real clean eating freak. Worse than Lark.” Benny grins again, begins walking backward toward the door. “Less fun than you. Wasn’t a big Adam fan.” He tugs at his ear lobe, glancing around as he opens the bar’s side door. He hooks a foot to keep it open and his pale eyes assess Benji as he stands there. Short sleeves, in the cold. Hands in his pockets, staring with those big black eyes at Benny. He wets his lips with his tongue, sends a glance upward and then shrugs, smiling.

“Adam Chen. If you wa—wanna look him up. S’got tons of c-candids of Xavier on socials.”

Then Benny slips back into the bar and lets the door close.

—

Xavier tries to stomp warmth into himself as he stands outside the bar. He tilts his head back and makes an absolutely obnoxious whining sound over the chilly wind that berates against his cheeks. Even in his jacket and even with the amount of beer he’d just absolutely poured into himself, he’s cold.

“I fucking hate Autumn,” he complains loudly, hands in his pockets and shoulders hunched.

Ben stands by the street, not facing them. On the look out for the car thats picking them up. He looks like a ghost, a pale slip against the night. Smoke puffs out from in front of him—absolutely chain smoking as Maran hops around him in that excited way he does when he’s talking. Xavier blinks sleepy, drunk eyes down and finds Benji suddenly notched closer.

“Are you gonna keep me warm?” he asks slyly, then almost regrets it. His words had come out too much like a purr and not a joke. Xavier has to glance away from Benji’s eyes, worried what he might find there until he feels his jacket zipper being pulled down.

“M’fuckin’ cold too, s’all.”

When Benji had come back from his smoke break, he’d sat down and immediately ordered another pint. Xavier can see the effect of the drink in Benji’s cheeks. They’re that dark red color they get when he’s really been drinking. It spreads over the bridge of his handsome nose. Darkens around the corners of his eyes. Xavier doesn’t say anything as arms slowly slip into his jacket. Benji’s chin touches his sternum.

Xavier swallows hard, blinking, his gaze bouncing everywhere else. To Benny, waving the car. Maran hopping in place to keep himself warm. The blinking neon light of the bar. And then finally down to Benji. He smiles then, feels betrayed because it’s a shy smile. Soft. He responds by lifting his pocketed hands and absolutely swallowing Benji up in his jacket.

“Get in the—the fucking Uber!” Benny yells from the street. They stumble together, like a four legged drunk creature, laughing. He can feel Benji’s warm breath tickling him under the jacket. They nearly smash into the side of it until Benny helpfully begins shoving them in. When he lands into the back seat, Maran’s squished to the far side. And Xavier gets momentarily distracted talking to him. Doesn’t even realize that Benji is slowly falling asleep bent over in his lap, still half tucked in his jacket.

[sacredsorceress]

Cake || Bucky Barnes

pairing: bucky barnes x avenger!reader

summary: you and your boyfriend bucky barnes head down to the wilson residence for a barbecue. sam’s nephews adore the both of you and as you watch bucky play with the kids you’re ready to tell your boyfriend that you’re pregnant

a/n: gif credit- @davidsfincher ; i will never get over this scene. reblogs and/or replies are super appreciated!!

word count: 2.7k

warnings: pure fluff based on episode six, mentions of pregnancy

masterlist || request || taglist

“I say we get the vanilla one.”

Standing besides you in the supermarket aisle with his arms crossed, your boyfriend turned to look at you with disgust written all over his face.

“Vanilla?” Bucky said, shaking his head. “Are you kidding, Y/n? All kids like chocolate.”

As he was speaking, Bucky reached out to pull one of the chocolate cakes off of the shelf it was sitting on, but you swat his hand away.

“Oh yea?” You asked. “And what makes you the expert on what kids like?”

Uncrossing his arms, he waved his hand in your face.

“Metal arm.” He said. “Also don’t pretend like Sam’s nephews didn't love me last time we were there.”

You couldn't argue with that. The last time the two of you had been to the Wilson residence in between missions, Sam’s nephews absolutely adored the super soldier. They couldn't get enough of the one hundred and six year-old man with the vibranium arm and the fun they had messing with him.

You had just as much joy watching the interactions between the three of them. You couldn’t help but entertain the idea of starting a family of your own with Bucky.

The two of you had been dating for years- not including the five year blip the two of you had been snapped from existence in- and had often discussed the idea of getting married and having children in the future. You didn’t think you would be ready yet, but as you watched children be in absolute awe of your boyfriend, you felt as though the pieces began to fell into place.

And funnily enough- they did.

You had been feeling sick and exhausted for the past few weeks, but you figured it was on account of the missions you had been going on with Sam and Bucky. When the symptoms continued while you stayed at the Wilson’s home for the weekend while Bucky helped Sam fix the boat- you had taken pregnancy test.

It was positive.

Although you knew that you and Bucky could handle it, you were still in absolute shock realizing that you were going to be starting a family- you were going to be responsible for more than just making sure you and your friends didn’t get killed fighting bad guys- you were going to be a parent.

The only person who knew was Sam’s sister, Sarah. She was the only one inside the house when you had taken the test and when she had heard you pacing around the bathroom, hyperventilating, she opened the unlocked door and immediately saw the pregnancy test in your hands. You had sworn her to secrecy, making sure she didn’t tell your boyfriend or her brother, promising her that you would tell them when the time was right... but with the mission in New York City coming immediately after your stay, you hadn't found the right opportunity to tell Bucky yet.

However, you told yourself that you finally would tonight... after attending the barbecue.

“Yeah, yeah.” You rolled your eyes. “I can’t argue with that. They did love you, but that doesn’t mean you know anything about cake.”

Reaching his hand out for the chocolate cake again he scoffed. “I’m not taking advice from someone who wants to bring a vanilla cake to a party-”

You swat his hand again. “We’re not getting the chocolate.”

“Yes,” He insisted, inching his face closer to yours. “We are.”

“No. We’re not.”

“Can I help you guys with anything?” You heard a worker ask from behind you.

Backing away from your boyfriend you smiled, shaking your head.

“No, we’re fine. Thank you.”

As you watched the worker nod before walking down the aisle, you turned back to your boyfriend.

“Okay fine.” You said. “We’ll compromise. Ice cream cake?”

You watched as Bucky’s eyes widened. “Wait! There’s ice cream cake?”

Twenty minutes later you and Bucky had arrived at the barbecue, your boyfriend taking the cake out of your hands as he stepped out of the car.

As you made your way around the front of the vehicle you watched as Sam’s nephews bombarded Bucky, play fighting with him as he faked attacking them back, making sure to dodge their fists from knocking over the cake in his hands.

You couldn’t deny the way the sight made your heart fill so much you swore it could’ve exploded right in your chest.

As you watched the scene unfold, hearing the laughter erupting from the children around him while he faked getting hurt, you heard Sarah come up behind you.

“You know,” She said, crossing her arms and standing beside you. “You almost scared me to death watching you on the news.”

Glancing at her beside you, you shrugged. “I was fine.” You said. “That wasn’t the first fight I’ve been in.”

“I just can’t believe they let you go.” She said.

“What? What do you mean?”

“What do I mean?” She laughed. “I can’t believe they would let you go do something so dangerous like that knowing you’re-”

Before she could finish her sentence you swat at her arm, rapidly shaking your head, checking around you to make sure no one was listening to your conversation or had heard what she had just said.

“I didn’t tell them yet.” You told her in a hushed voice.

“What?” She asked. “Why not?”

“I couldn’t tell them. If I did they would have never let me go- especially Bucky- but I couldn’t let them go in by themselves like that. You’ve seen the Flag Smashers, Sarah.”

“How long are you going to keep this a secret?” She asked.

“I was going to tell him today.” You told her. “We just needed to sort out the Flag Smashers before I could even think about telling him I’m pregnant-”

“You’re pregnant?”

At the sound of Sam’s voice, you and his sister immediately spun around to be met with Sam standing behind you, only a foot away.

You watched as his mouth dropped and his eyes grew wide and you felt your heart began to race in your chest, knowing that you had just exposed your secret to Sam- you and Bucky’s shared best friend.

“Sam...” You said.

“I-” He stumbled over his words, trying to piece the information together. “You’re pregnant?”

“Yes, but you can’t tell Bucky.” You pleaded, gripping his bicep. “I haven’t told him yet.”

“What?” He exclaimed looking between you and his sister. “How long have you known? Why haven’t you told him yet?”

Playing with one of the rings on your fingers, made anxious by the conversation, you focused your gaze on the water behind him, not able to meet his eyes.

“I found out last time I was here.” You said. “So I found out like a week ago. You can't blame me though, Sam, if I told him he would of never let me go help you guys in New York.”

“Yeah!” Sam nodded. “Neither would I. You could of died!”

“But I didn’t!” You said. “Just don’t tell him okay, Sam? I’m going to tell him tonight.”

Before anymore could be said, you heard the sound of your name being called by Sam’s nephews and spun around to find them running in your direction.

“Hey guys!” You laughed, a smile reaching your face once again.

Watching them run towards you, you knew what they wanted before they even had to ask. Stretching out your arms, you moved your hands in the direction of each of the boys, using your powers to lift them a maximum of three feet above the ground- not wanting to upset their mother. You smiled as you watched the boys laugh about how “awesome” it was in awe as they looked down at the ground three feet below them.

You felt Sam’s hand land on your shoulder.

“I’m happy for you, Y/n.” You heard Sam say, leaning in closer so no one outside of your current group could hear him. “You both are going to be great parents. Just tell him soon, okay?”

He pat your shoulder one last time before walking past you and his nephews you were still currently floating midair.

“How come when I ask you guys if you want to fly you say no?” Sam asked.

“She’s using magic!” Cass exclaimed.

“Yeah, Uncle Sam.” AJ agreed. “That’s way cooler.”

Sam threw his hands up in the air, walking in the opposite direction and as he did you lowered the boys to the ground, much to their disappoint. When they scurried off in the direction of their uncle, your eyes met Bucky’s staring at you, smiling from across the way of where you had just been levitating Sam’s nephews.

“Look at you!” He said, smiling, reaching out his arms for you.

“Me?” You laughed. “You just had a whole choreographed fight scene with the boys. You’re like their cool uncle.”

You watched as your boyfriend pulled off his sunglasses and smiled at you, resting his vibranium hand on your waist.

“Only if you’re their cool aunt.”

You smiled. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Afterwards the two of you went to eat and spent the remainder of the meal sharing a table with Sam, his sister and his nephews. Despite the dangerous mission the three of you had been dealing with the past week, the table was full of laughter and joy that you were happy to welcome in.

Even when the cake that you had brought was sliced, you and Bucky smiled at each other from across the table when the boys scoffed down their slice of ice cream cake that contained both vanilla and chocolate- your compromise having worked in the end for the better. At times you even used your abilities to pull the fork out of your boyfriend’s hand just as he was about to bite down on a slice of cake, hearing the boy’s laugh as they watched the super soldier roll his eyes at you.

“Ha ha.” Bucky would say. “Very funny... what is that? Three times now? Really, Y/n?”

But he knew you would continue to do it as long as you continued to hear the sounds of awes coming out of the boys’ mouths and he couldn’t fault you for that. Instead sneaking you a smile when you brought the fork back into his grasp.

At the end of the evening when everyone had began to make their way home, the sun setting over the horizon, you helped tidy up with the Wilson siblings. When the tables were all wiped clean, you brushed your hands off on your bottoms, watching as Bucky sat on the edge of the dock, the golden hue of the sunset setting on his features.

Glancing over your shoulder as Sarah ushered her children back home, you saw Sam throw you a thumbs up. When your eyes met his you smiled, mouthing a “thank you” before he turned in the direction of his sister, following her path back home.

Sighing to yourself you turned back to your boyfriend.

You were going to tell him. You were going to finally tell him you were pregnant.

You took one last deep breath, taking in the last moment before Bucky and your’s life changed forever.

Making your way towards your boyfriend you kneeled behind him, your chest meeting his back as you wrapped your arms around his chest.

“Hi.” You whispered.

“Hi doll.” He hummed, moving his hands to hold yours that were resting against his chest.

“Had a nice day?” You asked, leaning in to press a gentle kiss against his cheek.

You felt as his chest rumbled when he chuckled, staring out over the water while the sun continued to set, its reflection turning the water gold.

“Yeah.” He said. “I wish it could be like that every day, you know?”

You knew what he meant. You understood that he was talking about the peace, the joy, the laughter- the normalcy. You understood that he was talking about how your lives were so hectic and always would be due to the hand you had been dealt with super human abilities. You could never have a normal life, but you also understood that it was more than just never having to fight or go on a mission again- it was the feeling of family, of caring and of love.

“I know it can’t be like that every day.” You said. “But would you... would you settle for most days?”

You felt his hands squeeze yours a bit more, tilting his head back to get a better look at you.

“What are you talking about?”

“Would you settle for most days, Buck?” You asked again. “Would it all be worth it even if you still had to fight?”

He answered in a heartbeat.

“Of course it would.” Bucky said. “I’d fight for one day of this.”

You unwrapped your arms from around his chest, moving to kneel besides him on the dock so he could face you. Knowing what you were about to say, you took in the moment, breathing in the fresh air and memorizing the way his face looked in the golden hour.

“I’m pregnant.”

You watched as his face dropped and you were almost worried until a wide smile reached across his face.

“You’re pregnant?” He asked, so in disbelief he sounded as though the wind had been knocked right out of him.

You smiled, nodding your head and took his hand in yours. “I am. I found out a few days ago-”

“Wait.” He cut you off. “A few days ago? Did you know you were pregnant when we fought in New York City?”

Staring at his face now, confronting the issue, you were suddenly very interested in the frosting he had somehow gotten on the bottom of his shirt, tugging on the hem and scratching it off.

“Y/n?”

“Okay, yes. I knew.” You confessed.

Rather than the fed up, overprotective reaction you were expecting, you felt Bucky’s hands reach to cup your face, forcing you to look at him. Rather than anger in his eyes, all you saw was worry and you were wishing you had never gone and fought just so you could save yourself from seeing him like that.

“Promise me you won’t fight anymore.” He said. “At least until the baby’s here- God I can’t believe we’re having a baby- just promise me okay? If anything happened to either of you I wouldn’t know what to do with myself-”

“I promise, Buck.” You assured him, smiling and beginning to feel tears prickle in your eyes. “We’re gonna have a baby.”

You watched as he began to smile once again and the two of you couldn’t help but laugh- so consumed in complete and utter joy. You and Bucky had gone through so much- especially within the last few months- but as you both sat there, so happy you couldn’t help but laugh, you realized it was worth it and you would go through it all again if it meant that at the end of the day you two would come back to each other every single time.

For the first time in your life, you watched as tears of joy began to fill his eyes, almost as if they had begun to wash away the years of pain that he had suffered previously. Although he was sure he hadn’t fought his last fight... he was sure he was going to be okay. He was happy. He was going to share his life with you. He was going to be a dad.

“We’re gonna have a kid.” He repeated the words, almost as if to convince himself that they were true.

“You’re gonna be such a good dad, Buck.” You told him, laughing through the tears that had begun to fill your eyes. “If you’re half as good at being a dad as you are the ‘cool uncle’- our kid is in good hands.”

“You think so?” He asked.

“I know so, Buck.”

[demonsandmischief]

Something Special

Marvel - Bucky Barnes Imagine

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader,

Soulmate AU

1.6k Words

You can meet your soulmate in your dreams but you can't speak to them and you lose most memory when you wake up, but for some reason your soul mate has never met you there. You're certain they don't exist, until one day.

A/N: I imagine this taking place during TFATWS :).

----

"What do you mean you've never met your soulmate in your dreams?" Sam Wilson asked his friend Bucky.

"I have nightmares, Sam. That is no place for them to be," Buck argued, taking a rag to wipe the blood off of his vibranium arm.

"But they probably think you're dead."

"It's just better off that way," the stoic man finished, his steely eyes meeting Sam's.

"I don't think you're willing to admit that you are scared to try," Sam said, his voice dropping to a softer tone as he leaned forward.

Bucky sighed. "Of course I'm scared. I am not what anybody wants for a lifelong partner," he whispered, dragging his flesh hand down his face.

"Bucky, that's not your choice to make." He stood up, walking away to let him think it over.

Bucky had heard stories of how people meet their soulmate in dreamland. It was a common occurance, but when he had first tried during World War II, he never got a response. There was no way he could even have one now. He was 106 years old after all.

Yet, when he went to bed that night, he decided to push his thoughts aside and focus on calling for you.

You had been waiting for your soulmate to meet you, but it had been years and never once did you hear anything back. You just figured you didn't have one.

Until that night as you were drifting to sleep, it was like a tingling sensation that drew you in. Your eyes were closed, yet it was like following a rope deeper into the darkness of your head.

At the end, was a man. He was tall and stern, and even though you were dreaming, you could feel his presence.

His facial expression remained masked when he saw you, but even you could see his dark eyes widen slightly. You couldn't believe it, after all this time. You searched his body for any distinguishable features, but only found a blurring image. It was going too fast and you were already waking up.

Bucky couldn't believe he saw you on his first try. Plus, seeing you meant no nightmares. Instead, he had a new longing to look for you, and when he woke the following morning he scrambled to write something down before he lost it.

"Shit," he groaned miserably, only managing to write down brown eyes. Most of the population has brown eyes.

"Someone's in a mood," Sam grinned when he caught sight of Bucky's deep frown, deeper than usual that is. He took another bite of toast. "We've got to move on this next lead. Be ready in five."

"Seriously, what's up with you?" Sam asked genuinely when they both were on the plane ready for their next destination.

"I took your advice-"

"Wait, wait. You took my advice?" Sam smiled widely.

"Yeah I took your advice," Bucky said sharply. "And I saw my soulmate, but I can't remember anything about her."

"You know that's just part of the gimmick. You'll figure out a way, Buck," he said sincerely, standing up.

Bucky couldn't be sure. If he dragged this out for too long, there was a possibility that you would find out who he was and never want to meet him. He wouldn't blame you for that.

---

You felt like you were floating in clouds the whole day. For your entire life, you had seen people meet their person, and as you got older, you realized that the chances of you not having that were becoming greater than actually meeting them.

You didn't know what had changed, but you spent the entire day trying to come up with a plan to finally meet the handsome man you saw in your dreams.

You couldn't remember much. You tried to write or sketch him when you woke up, but all you got was blue eyes.

You wondered if you appeared to him in the same clothes you slept in, and if so, maybe you could fold a note in your pocket. You weren't sure you would even be able to remember it was there. Either way, it was worth a try.

The following night you were so excited you were certain you weren't going to be able to sleep, but you managed, and sure enough there was your broody man.

He gave a wave. His lips twitched up slightly, brightening all of his sharp features.

You reached into the pocket of your sweatshirt. You didn't know why, but you had the longing to do so, and you pulled out a small sheet of paper.

You stepped closer to the man, and placed the paper in his palm.

Y/N, Y/L/N, Your Address

Bucky didn't know how he managed to remember all of that once he woke up. He stared down at the scribbled piece of paper in wonder. Could it really be?

You were probably better off without him. He had not been a good man for most of his life, and you deserved more than him.

That's how Sam found him, sitting on the floor lost in thought, the paper scrunched in his fist.

Bucky relaxed his hand so his friend could see the writing. Sam blew out air, and sat down in front of him.

"What are you waiting for?" he asked as gently as possible.

"She deserves so much better than me."

"You can't decide that for her, Buck. You've kept her waiting long enough." Sam stood up, but spoke once more. "I'll get the plane ready if you change your mind. I think we both deserve a detour."

----

You were on pins and needles the whole day. You truly wondered if your man got the message or not. You could just vaguely remember holding his hand, which means you must have given the paper, but you couldn't be sure. You were just willing someone to knock on your door.

Yet, as the day passed you grew less and less confident. If he remembered the note, surely he would have tracked you down by now. Unless he didn't actually want to track you down. Your thoughts were a swirling mess.

You didn't have any dreams that night. You woke up in cold sweat, a sinking feeling forming in your stomach. You felt nauseous. Was it you who ruined everything? Maybe he knew who you were already and decided to pass.

You weren't sure you had the energy to get up and go to work, but you forced yourself to start moving. Your thoughts were only going to get worse.

----

The two men were quite far from the states and Bucky couldn't stop thinking as they made the long trek. For once, these thoughts were not dark flashbacks, they were a bit hopeful. What if she accepted him?

He felt bad that he couldn't sleep. He desperately wanted to see the girl of his dreams, but it just wasn't going to happen. Even Sam kept unusually quiet.

When they finally landed, it was evening, and the pair parted ways. Bucky would finish the journey alone and he was a nervous wreck, even though all of his emotions remained masked.

When he arrived at the address, he took a deep breath and knocked on the door... except there was no answer. He considered his options. He could have messed up the address, or maybe you gave him a fake one. What was he supposed to do now?

He was so lost in thought, he didn't even notice you pulling in.

Your heart fluttered in your chest as you saw the handsome man standing on your doorstep. All of the dreams you had forgotten came rushing forward.

"Hi," you greeted timidly. He was huge up close, definitely taller than you. He wore mostly black, leather gloves on his hands. His features were sharp and familiar from the dream.

He flashed a nervous smile that only lasted a second before his face went blank once more, "I was worried I had the wrong place."

"Yeah, sorry, I was at work," you said, shuffling a bit as the silence consumed you. You had dreamt of this moment, literally, yet you didn't know what to say.

"I'm Bucky," he said, his tone much softer as he looked at you, soaking you in.

"It's great to finally meet you. I'm Y/N, but you know that," you blushed. "Do you want to come in? I can make dinner or we can order something?"

"Okay," he nodded, following you inside. You realized he was very stern and very observant. Combined with your quiet and shy personality, you were quite a match.

"Do you want something to drink?" you asked from the kitchen, pulling ingredients to throw something together for you both to eat.

"No, but thanks." Bucky sat on the stool by the island unsure of what to say or do, but he enjoyed watching you. There was something very positive about you and your home. It felt good.

"Can I ask about the gloves?" you ask curiously, throwing some chicken in a hot pan.

It seemed like you didn't know who he was. He slowly pulled off his gloves, revealing his metal hand.

"Woah, cool," you said, moving closer. "Can I touch it?"

Bucky furrowed his brows, "I guess."

You couldn't help yourself. It was so smooth and shiny, and you giggled happily.

"I guess you can't feel it," you said, reaching for his flesh hand and tracing just like you were on the metal.

He couldn't have been happier to have the stupid arm at that moment. He loved hearing your laugh, and feeling your fingertips gave him goosebumps. His shadowed mind seemed almost calm in your presence, and he knew just from being around for a short time that you were going to be his addiction.

You dropped his hand, meeting his beautiful blue eyes. Your lips quirked automatically, and you were relieved to know the tension was finally broken.

----

A/N: aw yay I love this. Here's part 2 :))

[scrumptious-delusion]

murder on the dancefloor

series masterlist

summary: you're ecstatic to learn that your next mission involves a 70's themed party. your partner however, is not.

pairing: bucky barnes x agent!female reader

warnings: swearing, murder, a bit of fluff, a lot of humour, mention of: guns, knives and alcohol.

length: 4.1k

a/n: *thanos voice* now [canon] can be whatever i want. don’t hold the accuracy of the russian against me, i just used google ✌. written for my 3k celebration, the prompt is bolded.

Bucky Barnes is your opposite in almost every way.

He’s quiet, grumpy, and generally comes across as if he’s over the whole life thing.

Which, with his past – not to mention his age, you figure he has every right to be.

You also figure it’s these two things that have made him impossible to shock. Something you quickly learnt about Bucky on your first mission together was that literally nothing fazes him.

Nothing.

Essentially, Bucky acts every bit like the old man he is.

On any given mission you have no doubt he’d rather be sitting on a porch reading the paper – or whatever it is old men enjoy doing.

Then there’s you with your sporadic bursts of energy and ability to talk aimlessly for hours.

Your light-hearted disposition means you’ll joke about something before you take it seriously, even if it’s at your own expense.

You’ll admit that’s not always a great thing.

Despite your differences however, the two of you make one hell of a duo.

You used to be an agent who spent more time behind a desk than in the field, and what missions you could get were far from thrilling.

Then along came Bucky.

His charming personality had sent the government scouring down a long list of agents, trying to find someone who wouldn’t refuse to be his partner after one mission together.

Let’s just say your name wasn’t at the top of that list.

Everyone was surprised and relieved when Bucky didn’t send you running for the hills.

Everyone except Bucky, because he of course gave no reaction, and you.

You couldn’t see what all the fuss was about.

Though truthfully, the man would’ve had to have done something horrific for you to turn down an opportunity to leave the office every once in a while.

The department only used Bucky for specific missions. Usually the so-classified-every-word-in-the-file-is-blacked-out kind.

In order to be granted a full pardon, Bucky had to work for the government to “demonstrate his commitment to the nation’s safety and wellbeing” until they were “satisfied and confident of his standing as a faithful American citizen”.

Basically, during Bucky’s trial the government heavily implied that it couldn’t be proven that he didn’t still have some allegiance with the Russians or whoever as a bullshit excuse to get the Winter Soldier to do some of their dirty work.

Since Bucky was now three years into his “demonstration” – only one of which you’d spent working with him, you were starting to wonder how much longer it would be before the government was forced to hold up their end of the deal.

Until that day arrives, you eagerly await the phone call that signifies another mission.

You stroll across the aircraft hangar, duffel bag hooked over your shoulder as you approach the familiar figures of Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson.

“Hey guys.” You smile, dropping your bag at your feet.

Sam greets you with a grin while Bucky grunts his version of a hello.

You like to think you’ve become somewhat of an expert at understanding Bucky’s mostly silent way of communicating.

Recognising the meanings behind different grunts and stares. Understanding the words expressed through the rise and fall of his eyebrows.

It’s truly a language of its own.

“They’re still pairing you up with this grandpa, huh?”

Shrugging, you jokingly sigh “I’m the only agent with aged care experience.”

Bucky doesn’t entertain either of you with a reaction, he simply picks up your bag and walks away without so much as a nod towards Sam.

Twisting to watch Bucky as he strides off, Sam yells “You’re welcome for the lift!”

There’s no response.

Rolling his eyes, Sam ribs “Have fun with him.”

Already trailing after Bucky, you call back “I always do!”

You catch up with him outside the hangar bay, in front of a cargo plane where the usual well dressed and important looking person with a manila envelope waits.

It’s never the same person and they never give their name.

You’ve coined them all as Charlie.

“Sergeant Barnes, Agent.” Charlie greets before getting straight to the point. “This is Jeremy Fitz.”

Reaching into the envelope they pull out his photo. “We’ve just received information that he’s been hired to kill this man,” They pull out another photo “Simon Miller, within the next seventy-two hours.”

“Fitz has been on our radar for quite some time but tracking him has proven difficult. However, Simon Miller is an active member in society and easy to shadow. You’ll stick close to him and wait for Fitz to reveal himself. When he does, you are to eliminate him, but only after he’s taken out Miller.”

Sliding the pictures back into the envelope, Charlie holds it out to you.

Just once you wouldn’t mind being told why.

“There’s to be no evidence of U.S. involvement, get caught and you’re on your own.”

Yes, yes. The usual spiel.

Refraining from rolling your eyes, you take the envelope.

“This cargo plane will take you to a base in London where you’ll change and be driven to the hotel Miller is currently staying at. You’ll have a room there that’s been set up with the appropriate means for the mission. Understood?”

“Got it.” You confirm.

Bucky nods once in acknowledgement.

Charlie doesn’t spare a second. Spinning around, they make a swift departure to an awaiting car.

You and Bucky stride up the cargo plane’s ramp and despite there being numerous places to sit, you take a seat right next to Bucky.

“How ya been?”

Almost five weeks have passed since you last teamed up. You rarely saw each other outside of missions, though the two of you did occasionally call one another.

Okay, you occasionally call Bucky when you’re bored or have had a drink to unwind and feel chattier than usual. You talk, he sometimes grunts, and then you eventually say goodbye.

“Fine.” Bucky answers, resting his head back and closing his eyes.

He doesn’t need to prompt you in return, you’re already speaking the moment he finishes his reply.

“You know all those plants I bought?” You ask rhetorically. “Dead. All of them.”

During the last mission, your latest Pinterest phase had convinced you that your apartment would look amazing covered in greenery. Which it did, the numerous plants had looked fantastic for the short two weeks they lived.

“I felt bad about it, but I mean, I watered them.” When you were actually home to do so. “Gave them light.” Though you weren’t sure if they all needed it, or how much. “What else was I supposed to do? I probably should’ve just started with one.”

Too late now, you were over plants.

Flowers would be nice.

You could buy a bouquet each week, but the closest florist charged a fortune, even for a basic bunch. It would be a much more expensive endeavour than the plants you paid a collective ten dollars for at a yard sale.

“Do you think I should try a fish?”

“No.”

You sigh in response to Bucky’s instant shutdown. “Yeah, I’d feel a lot worse about accidentally killing an animal.”

There’s silence as you consider possible alternatives. It’d be nice to come home to something.

“Anyway,” Looking down at the envelope in hand, you flip it open. “I’m just glad to get away for a bit, my new supervisor is driving me insane. I don’t think it’s legal to make me do as much paperwork as I have and he keeps picking me up on every minor detail, even though the asshat has me doing all of his reports.”

You blame the death of your plants on said asshat. Because of him you’ve barely been home during the weeks, always starting work early and finishing late.

“I’ve spent every weekend watching Pride & Prejudice.”

It’s one of your favourite movies and a go-to comfort film, something Bucky’s well aware of because you’ve mentioned it, oh, only a thousand times.

In fact, one of your favourite memories is when you first spoke of it with Bucky during your third mission together.

“I’m definitely watching Pride & Prejudice once this is all over.” You pant, bending over with your hands on your knees. Squinting up at Bucky you ask, “Have you seen it?”

The only evidence of exertion on the super soldier is the more prominent rise and fall of his chest, otherwise he appears fine.

You, however, feel like you’re on the verge of passing out.

Bucky shakes his head.

“I love it, it’s one of my favourite movies. The tv show’s also good, but it’s long and I don’t always have the time, you know?”

Wow, even gasping for breath you just keep talking.

“It’s based off a book, I thought you might’ve known it, you would’ve been a kid when it came out.”

Bucky raises a cautious left eyebrow, his deep voice questioning “When?”

You shrug, standing up and moving your hands to your hips, still huffing. “Early 1800’s.”

The sigh that passes through Bucky’s lips is powerful, dredged up from deep within his tired soul.

Turning around, he resumes jogging through the forest.

“Wait!” You call out, fighting the smile on your lips as you stagger behind him. “Bucky! It was a joke!”

He slows enough for you to catch up.

You’re absolutely drenched in sweat.

Once you’re by his side, you say “C’mon, I know that was a good century after you were born.”

You laugh, a very unattractive sound as you struggle for oxygen and Bucky takes off in a proper run. You merely fall to the forest floor on your hands and knees, still laughing to yourself as you try and regain some energy.

An hour later you finally stumble into the old cabin, clearly a long time after Bucky has, as he lies showered and asleep in bed.

Heading straight to the bathroom for a soothing cold shower, you don’t emerge until a good half hour later.

Despite your strong desire to sleep, you’re craving something sweet, so you venture into the tiny kitchen for the cookies you made sure to bring, to break up the bland meals of tinned food.

It’s with great horror you discover that Bucky has eaten every last one.

“Okay, this is the best mission yet.” You announce, inspecting the giant hotel room.

Previous missions have seen you sleeping in seedy motels, mould ridden apartments, or even on the cold ground, so this five star hotel room is heaven sent.

You’re so happy Simon Miller is a man with expensive taste.

Waltzing over to the king sized bed, you collapse on top of it, revelling in the softness beneath you.

There’s only one, but it won’t be the first time you’ve had to share a bed with Bucky.

You’ll be taking turns in it anyway, since someone will need to be monitoring the camera feed of Miller’s room.

Forcing yourself back up, you walk over to the desk where everything has been set up. Glancing at the camera feed you see Miller watching tv before shifting your focus to the papers containing more information about the mission.

Your eyes fall to a brightly coloured invitation for a party tomorrow night that Miller will be attending. The words you read have you rushing over to the wardrobe that holds your mission provided clothes.

Bucky watches you curiously from where he assesses the weapons, keeping an eye on the cameras.

Flinging open the doors, you turn to look at him over your shoulder. “It’s a seventies themed party!”

Stepping to the side, you let him see the two very sequined outfits hanging inside the wardrobe. “Fitz better not kill Miller before tomorrow night.”

Frowning at the orange suit he’ll have to wear, Bucky huffs.

Smiling at his obvious disdain, you tease “Better get those dance moves ready, Barnes.”

“We won’t be going.”

You zip up your white go-go boots before giving yourself a once over in the mirror. The skirt of your silver, sequined dress falls just above your knees, while the bell sleeves swish with your every move.

It’s perfect.

Stepping out of the bathroom, you’re greeted with a wonderful sight.

Bucky stands in front of the desk, the orange pants he wears flaring out around his feet which are covered in simple black boots. His matching orange, sequined jacket is fitted tightly to his large build and unbuttoned, showing the white shirt underneath that has a deep v cut, exposing his chest and a light smattering of hair.

He’s left his brown hair down, the ends just passing his shoulders, and his beard is neatly groomed.

You’re caught in an odd predicament of wanting to laugh and swoon.

“Don’t even think about it.” The threat is spoken gruffly as Bucky’s dark blue eyes quickly dart to the phone in your hand.

“What?” You ask, eyes wide. “I’m just checking the time.”

The shake of Bucky’s head tells you he doesn’t believe you one bit.

I’ll get a photo later.

“Miller’s on his way out.” Bucky states, stepping back from the desk. “Gun?”

Due to his well-fitting suit, you’re the only one carrying a weapon – sorry, a gun.

Bucky himself is a weapon and even without the metal arm he’s hidden by wearing a pair of black gloves, you know there’s at least a dozen knives strapped somewhere on him.

You’ve settled for just the gun, which is secured in the holster around your right thigh.

“Got it.”

It’s like something out of a movie.

The moment you step through the doors of the party, the iconic sweep of piano keys that starts off Dancing Queen rings out as you’re washed in the glow of multicolour laser lights and the shimmering of the giant disco ball hanging above the crowded dancefloor.

Not one person has half-assed their attire, they’re all dressed so well you’re having a hard time remembering what decade it actually is.

“Control yourself.” The low tone of Bucky’s voice holds humour, making you realise your mouth is open.

“This is amazing.” You murmur, continuing to assess the party.

Most of the light is focused on the dancefloor, leaving the rest of the room relatively dark, particularly the second floor – a balcony that stretches around the entire room.

A good hiding spot.

Bucky leads you over to a dark edge of the party, where you can clearly see Miller as he talks with a group of people, accompanied by the two women he arrived with.

“I hope he dances.” You sigh longingly.

You really, really want a reason to go out on that dance floor.

Bucky’s muttered response is lost amongst the noise.

It’s two hours in and you’ve finally moved to the dance floor that Miller also occupies.

There’s been no sign of Fitz, much to Bucky’s annoyance.

He hasn’t even committed to at least appearing like he’s dancing. Instead he’s just standing still, gazing around while you stand opposite him, putting in some effort.

You’re swaying to the beat of each song, bopping your head, and mouthing along when you know the words.

The two of you barely look like you’re together, so you can’t blame the guy who swaggers over, clearly wanting to dance with you.

However, the glare that Bucky levels him with has the guy swaggering right on by, like he never even saw you in the first place.

“So, how does it compare to the real thing?” You ask over the Fleetwood Mac song, gesturing to your surroundings.

Bucky raises an eyebrow that says, “Why should I know?”

“You were alive during the seventies.” You shrug.

“HYDRA wasn’t exactly letting me out to attend discos.” He deadpans.

The image his words conjure is unavoidable. All you can picture is Bucky decked out in the Winter Soldier attire you know from the photos, standing in the middle of a disco, Saturday Night Fever-ing it.

“The groovy soldier.” You snort.

Bucky levels you with that look. The one that’s just a blank stare, like he’s completely dead inside. Like there’s literally nothing he could say even if he wanted to because what you’ve said is just that stupid.

It’s a look you’re familiar with.

All you do is smile innocently back at him.

The sound of chatter rises around you as the current song fades out to be replaced by another.

You’re not the only person who gives an excited gasp as Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! starts playing.

“I love this song!”

Bucky quirks an eyebrow at you again, and you’re unsure if it means he knows the song or not, but you don’t care to ask as you start really dancing.

This song always seems to possess your body whenever it comes on.

Your hips twist in time to the beat, your arms, hands, and feet moving along with it as you put on a show you’ve performed a million times around your apartment.

Bucky’s watching you intently as you dance in front of him and you move in closer, wondering if you can entice him to somewhat move along with you when you notice a red dot on his white shirt.

You frown at the dot that doesn’t quite seem like the other laser lights and say, “You’ve got red on you.”

It’s gone before Bucky can even look down at it.

“Oh.” You realise, meeting Bucky’s gaze.

Processing things much faster than you, Bucky looks over to where Miller is dancing with the two women.

“Find Fitz.” He orders you.

Before you can say anything, Bucky tugs you forward, holding you to him as he dances the two of you through the crowd and closer to Miller, all in time with the lively song.

You force yourself to focus on searching along the second floor, knowing from the angle of the red dot that Fitz has to be somewhere up there. You figure he must be moving around, trying to find his best shot amongst the dancing bodies. Something he could do easily in the darkened area.

If only you could –

You squeak as Bucky’s hands suddenly grasp at your hips, lifting you up and giving you an unobscured view as he spins.

Damn he’s strong.

The ease at which he picked you up makes you feel something.

“Oh, found him!”

Bucky loosens his grip, allowing you to slip through his hands until your boots touch the ground once more.

“In the corner to your left, beside the yellow dress.”

His gaze travels up to the spot and you can tell when he locks on Fitz.

“Gun?”

“Right thigh.”

You feel Bucky’s left hand gingerly pressing at the spot, feeling the gun over your dress, his eyes not leaving Fitz.

“He’s lining up his shot.” Bucky tells you. “Tell me when Miller’s dead.”

Over Bucky’s shoulder you focus on Miller and watch as the red dot reappears on his forehead, seeming like another laser light to the other partygoers.

Then the dot is replaced with a hole, the bullet silent.

“Dead.”

You give another small squeak as Bucky spins you in his arms, pushing your back to his front while his right hand glides up under your dress to wrap around the handle of the gun, all before the first scream is produced.

In a quick succession no average human could ever achieve, he pulls the gun from your holster and fires with perfect accuracy at Fitz, who doesn’t even get the chance to take a step before his body crumbles to the ground.

The loud gunshot causes chaos to erupt.

“Nice shot.” You compliment, feeling out of breath as everyone runs for the exit.

It has absolutely nothing to do with Bucky’s warm body pressed up against you or his metal arm that’s wrapped tightly around your waist.

Bucky grunts in thanks over the terrified screams.

The feel of warm metal on your thigh makes you look down, and you watch as Bucky uses the tip of the gun to lift your dress and expose the holster. Placing the weapon back, he grabs the hem of your dress with his gloved right hand and covers the holster once more, brushing your skin in the process.

Stupid fucking gloves.

You blink at your own thought.

Where did that come from?

Before you can dwell on it, Bucky’s arm drops from your waist and whatever trance you had entered is broken as he steps back.

Clearing your throat, you turn around, the room now completely deserted.

You follow Bucky’s gaze to where Miller’s dead body lies on the dancefloor. You’re both staring at it when the music fades out again, automatically transitioning to the next song which just happens to be Stayin Alive.

You know your giggle is unacceptable enough to quickly slap a hand over your mouth, but it does nothing to hide it.

Bucky smiles.

When you exit the bathroom refreshed from your shower and dressed in pyjamas, you find Bucky already in bed. As always, he’s taken the side closest to the door.

You fall onto the bed, bouncing from your momentum and release a relaxed sigh.

Another mission done and dusted.

Crawling under the sheets where Bucky’s warmth already radiates, you smirk devilishly.

Once you’ve settled into a comfortable position on your side facing Bucky, you slide your cold feet across the bed until they come into contact with Bucky’s nearest ankle and foot.

He growls your name in warning.

You merely laugh, not moving your feet.

“не испытывай меня сегодня вечером маленькая птица.”

It wasn’t unusual for Bucky to speak Russian around, or to you.

Curiosity makes you relent and remove your feet as you ask, “What does that mean?”

You knew nothing of the language and google translate was of no help to you. You recognised words he often used however, like those last ones.

If you had any patience you’d try to learn the language.

“It means, I killed the last person who put their cold feet on me.”

Sure it does.

“Consider me terrified.” You mock.

Bucky grumbles something under his breath.

Smiling, you fluff up the pillow beneath your head, eyelids already feeling heavy as Bucky flicks off the lamp beside him, shrouding the room in darkness.

“Night Bucky.”

Small streaks of light from the city outside sneak through gaps in the curtains, and joined with Bucky’s enhanced sight, it’s easy to see you beside him in the bed.

You’d fallen asleep around an hour ago, not long after saying goodnight.

She always falls asleep so damn fast.

Bucky recalls the first time he had to share a bed with you, on your third mission together.

Like tonight, you’d found sleep quickly, the day’s events tiring you out. Meanwhile, he’d lain wide awake, uncomfortable and unfamiliar with the close proximity.

It had taken time and a few of the tricks he once used to help himself fall asleep during his recovery years, but Bucky eventually managed to doze off - though it was short lived.

He was awoken a couple of hours later to the feeling of something on his right arm.

While Bucky laid as close as possible to the edge of the bed, his right arm was somewhat outstretched from his body, towards you on the other side.

You had shifted closer to him in your sleep, perhaps chasing his warmth unconsciously, and during your move you’d found his right arm and grabbed it. You cradled it against you like one might a stuffed toy, your hands wrapped around his bicep while your cheek pressed into it, and –

Bucky had squinted at where your mouth rested against his bare skin, but the slight wetness he could now sense told him that yes, you were in fact drooling on him.

The weird girl I’ve known for less than two weeks is drooling on me, he’d recapped to himself.

Bucky had simply stared and stared at you until the sun rose the next morning.

Ever since then, whenever the two of you have ended up sharing a bed, a similar routine has always ensued.

You fall asleep first, Bucky a little while later - either before or after you migrate over to him in your sleep, and in the morning he slips from your grasp, always the first one to wake.

Drool was occasional and a dead arm was guaranteed if you were sleeping on his right side.

Once you managed to wind up flush against him, and he’d woken up to you curled around his body.

Tonight, Bucky decides he’ll wait until you find your way over to him before falling asleep, reasoning that you’ll only wake him up when you eventually do anyway.

Besides, maybe this will be the night you turn that once into twice.