#red button for wilson immediately

[malpractisnt]

Unrealistic things in House MD

The fact that no one has picked House up by the scruff of his neck and shaken him like a misbehaving chihuahua

That no one has gently folded House up and placed him inside an ice box to cool off

That no one has locked House in a supply closet and just walked away.

That there isnt a big red secret button in the hospital labeled “STOP HOUSE” that only wilson has access to.

That somehow he is allowed to walk in public without a tiny leash and a sign that says “DO NOT FEED OR ENCOURAGE”

That no one has put House in a jar labelled “House shaped disaster” and just rolled him around the hospital for easy access when they need him.

That he hasnt been given his own reality TV segment where he gets to roam around diagnose random objects and insult whoever gets too close to him.

[geowrites03]

An ounce of regret

Teen Titans!Dick Grayson x Wilson!Reader

I FINALLY MADE A PART TWO TO SLADE’S DAUGHTER!

Part 2 of Slade’s Daughter

Summary: While looking for her father y/n gets caught by some of her mothers henchmen. Now the Titans and Slade have to work together to get her back.

Robin’s POV~

It’s been 336 hours, two weeks, since y/n and i fought. 335 hours since she left for good and destroyed all my information on finding her father. 334 hours and 40 minutes since the Titans found out. 334 hours and 20 minutes since we all lashed out at each other. 333 since we all decided to calm down and talk it through. And 332 hours and 35 minutes since we came to the conclusion of disbanding.

The Titans were already treading on thin ice with each other for some weird reasons nobody could really remember. Guess y/n leaving was finally the straw that broke the camels back, the thing to make the whole team collapse. She was the glue holding this team together, without her? We all fall apart.

I wish I could take back some- no, all of the words I said to her. I feel terrible and I just want her back in my arms and back with the team, eating victory pizza, or playing video games and getting interrupted by villains terrorising Jump City.

I hate the reason I even got petty and started the fight. All because she wants her fathers tracker back in her arm so he can protect her. I should have just put it back in without being an asshole, I know her farther can protect her better than me, but I let my pride and ego get in the way.

I’ve been trying to get ahold of the trackers coordinates, at least to see if she was somewhere safe, but it seems that Slade must have encrypted it somehow. Either that or something terribly bad has happened to her. I couldn’t imagine her being in any serious trouble, in need of help, and I can barely do anything.

The security system went off as the tower’s main computer received a call. I pressed the answer button.

“Slade…”

“Hello, Robin. It’s been awhile.”

“Where’s y/n? Why isn’t her tracker working?”

“That’s what I called for. Y/n’s seems to have been destroyed. I think her mother has her.”

“Then why haven’t you done anything!?”

“Because, as much as I hate to say this… I will need the Titans’ help. Her mother has requested help from Red X, and now they’re working together.”

“I’ll get the others. When are we going to save her?”

“Meet me at this location in one hour.”

He sent the coordinates and I forwarded them to the Titans, explaining that we need to help get y/n back.

~

We all met at the location that was sent out. The Titans didn’t seem like talking to me, but Raven asked what we were going to do to get her back. I didn’t tell the about Slade yet so they were all shocked when cut my answer off as appeared from the shadows.

“We need to infiltrate m/n’s base.” He continued to explain the plan to us as we were scouting out the base from our hiding spot across the road from the base.

~

Our plan of sneaking in and quietly taking y/n without minimal fighting guards had failed so far. Beast Boy and Cyborg high-fived too loud when we got to the room that y/n tied up on a chair in.

The high-five alerted all of the guards and they were closing in around us. We all started fighting, I quickly knocked out someone as a different person caught my attention.

Red X came running toward me and tackled me to the ground. I punched his nose and kicked him off of me. We both immediately got back up and continued fighting. Luckily for us his gadgets weren’t working because he is out of the power supply for them.

With one last uppercut he fell to the ground and my sight locks in on y/n. I rush over to her side to untie her but my hands went through her and her body started glitching. It’s a hologram.

y/n’s POV~

I readied my bow and aimed at Robin I then signaled to RedX that I was locked on Robin and ready to take the shot. He jumped down to the rest of the Titans ready to attack but a sword pierced his torso.

Since when was my dad willing to work with the Titans? I gasp and accidentally fired my bow, the arrow going through Robins shoulder. Shit! I quickly ran into another room and threw my bow on the ground in frustration.

A figure came through another door with their arms crossed, she shook her head and spoke, “I’m disappointed, you had the shot on him, on the boy who hurt you, why did you miss. If you were truly my daughter you wouldn’t have missed.”

“No, no. Please I’m still your daughter, let me make it up to you. Please. Don’t stop being my mother. I need you to be here, what can I do to make it up to you?” She looked at me with disgust.

“You can stop whining like a little bitch for starters. Look how desperate not having a mother made you, you’ll do anything just for me not to abandon you again.” She chuckled and threw a knife at my head.

I dodged the knife and caught it, I threw it to the other side of the room as she got into a fighting stance. l didn’t want to fight, I got into a defensive stance. She swung at my face but I blocked it, she then tried to kick my legs out from underneath me but I blocked that too.

“Mother, please. Stop!” She punched my eye then kicked my ankle. I let out a loud scream as she stabbed me in the stomach. She pulled out the knife and pushed me to the ground as the door got kicked down.

“Don’t you dare hurt my daughter.” My father was the first to enter the room and lunge at my mother. The Titans were in fighting positions ready to assist, besides Robin who instantly ran to me and kneeled at my side.

“Y/n, hey, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry my love.” He ripped off a bit of his cape and held it on my stab wound. He wrapped his other arm around my shoulders. “I am so sorry. I wish I could take back what I said. I’m sorry I love you so much.” He kissed my cheek and I smiled up at him.

I went to apologise for the things I said but he shushed me. “Save your energy.” I looked down and saw that I had lost a fair bit of blood, a puddle on the ground where I was laying and on Robin’s suit. His green glove had almost completely turned red, I let out a really faint chuckle.

“Hey, stay with me now.” My vision was darkening and he looked into my eyes. I smiled up at him as my vision fully clouded into black.

~

I woke up later in my father’s safe-house. I was in the med room and he was checking my vitals next to me.

“Thankfully, you are my daughter, so you healed rather quickly. I’m glad you okay.” He gave me a hug. “The Titans are at the tower if you want to go now.”

“Are you sure? Wouldn’t you want me at a closer distance now?”

“I trust you’ll be safe with them. Mainly Robin.”

~

I walk out of the elevator in the tower and immediately greeted by hugs and warm welcomes. I look at Robin and smile, a tear ran down my cheek and he wiped it with his thumb. He kissed me on the lips, disgusted sounds came from the other Titans as well all walked to the large sofa.

[bubuslutty]

La Reine de Londres

(All Parts), Part 1, Part 2

pairing: frank castle x mutant fem!reader x billy russo

(other pairing: Wade Wilson x Peter Parker)

word count: 1.5k

tags: mafia!au, mutants exist, billy never betrayed Frank, the author refuses to use the term ‘y/n’, Peter has a British accent, and so does Billy, just a bit tho

warning: blood

Summary: Peter drives Ms R to her club, where Billy and Frank thought it'd be a good idea to try and solve problems by themselves and hide them from their girlfriend.

Peter parked the car right in front of the club and stepped out, scanning the area for anything unusual, walked to the passenger's side, opened the door for the woman and held out his palm for her out of courtesy.

"Thank you, Peter." She smiled and grabbed his hand, getting out of the car, running her other hand down her dress to smoother any wrinkles.

Peter closed the door and locked the car, shoving the keys in his pocket. Then wrapped an arm around her lower back, both stepping towards the club, and all Peter had to do was nod at the bouncers for them to move aside with a polite "Good afternoon, Madam."

The club wasn't that full due to it being quite early, it was around 6PM, but it was already dark out. Clients usually start flowing in at 8PM. But Peter still kept his arm wrapped around the woman's lower back, he was paid to keep her safe, and he took his job very seriously, even if they were inside her club.

Peter easily led them to the basement, where there were more rooms for hosted private parties and meetings. And when they finally reached a long corridor with a single man standing at the end, he looked up and loudly greeted them, "Good afternoon, your majesty!" then with a head tilt, and a hand on his hip he said, "And last time I checked," He brought a gloved hand in front of his face and acted as if he was scrolling through a phone, "You aren't supposed to be in here for… another 10 minutes!"

The man was tall, extremely tall and broad, taller than her and Peter. And he was wearing the same black suit as Peter, except with a dark red button-up under his blazer, matching red gloves and a ski mask with two katana swords attached to his back.

"Open the door, I know they're in there." Ms R stood in front of the tall, masked man with her arms crossed, glaring up at him.

"No." The man casually said, mirroring her body language and crossing his arms.

"Why did you even bring her in early, Peter? You know they'll talk your ear off about safety and protocols." The man sighed, completely ignoring the woman standing in front of him.

"She threatened to kill me?" Peter lied and watched the man squint his brown eyes at him.

"Simp."

"Shut the fuck up, Wade."

"Whoah, do you kiss your beautiful boyfriend with that mouth?"

"You're my boyfriend, idiot."  

"Damn right, I am."

Wade was too busy staring at Peter to notice the woman reaching for the doorknob, but when he did, he was much faster and held her wrist in a tight grip. "I had clear instructions to keep you out of this room, for another- 8 minutes. My apologies, Ms R."  

Ms R sent him a vicious glare and he immediately let go of her wrist, "Fine." She grumbled.

"BILLY RUSSO, OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW!" She shouted and banged on the door with both hands, and Wade's eyes widened in surprise. Especially when everyone heard a thud from behind the closed door.

Wade knew that it was his cue to move to the side and let her open the door. Wade loved his job, he truly did. He got good shifts with breaks and days off, got paid good money and gets to work in the same place as his boyfriend, for the same people, and they're cool on top of that, he even considers them his friends.  

Unfortunately, Wade loves drama more than his job.  

He's a gossip gall at heart.

Both Peter and Wade watched as the woman opened the door and stomped inside the room, the two following shortly behind.

Ms R screeched to a stop when she saw that Will was slouched on the floor, his knees under him, the lower half of his face all bloody while his hands were bound behind his back.

Billy was leaning against the wall, his phone pressed to his ear with wide eyes, looking as if he was caught red-handed doing something he wasn't supposed to do.  

As for Frank, he had a hand buried in the man's hair, being the obvious reason why Will looked in such bad shape. Frank let go of the man's hair, his head hitting the floor with a thud and a groan and Billy threw his phone on the table, approaching the woman with his arms spread.

Frank stood up, his lips parted to try and explain himself, but all he could sigh was a pleading, "Baby,"

"My love," Was what Billy said, wrapping his hands around her waist, and looking down at her with pleading eyes.

Frank had a damp towel in his hands, wiping them from blood, but that didn't stop him from crowding her against Billy with his sheer size and bending his neck down to kiss the side of the head.

"We didn't want you to get your pretty hands dirty, my love. Or worry you over small things." Billy said, kissing her gloved knuckles, and her ringed finger.

"If it was something small, Frankie wouldn't have got his hands dirty." Ms R said unimpressed, watched them glance at each other over her head, and silently communicate with their eyes only.

"We've got it all under control, baby. Don't worry about a thing." Frank rumbled against her back, leaning down to kiss the skin between her neck and shoulder.

Ms R hummed and brought a hand up, grabbing Frank's curls in her fingers, bringing his ear to her mouth, "Oh yeah? Tell me what he did, then."

"He said we're paying him too little for the smuggling. He said he will cut ties with us if we don't increase his cut." Frank explained, a hint of breathlessness in his gruff voice.

"Hm, alright. Is he alive?" She asked, looking at Wade.  

Wade nudged Will with his boot and rolled him over and the man hissed then coughed, nose, mouth and cheeks all bloody, “Yep, still breathing.”

Ms R immediately cooed in sympathy, squatting next to the man's body.  

"Poor Will, does it hurt? Were my boys too rough with you?" She tutted, looking over his messy state as he panted, looking up at her with fear in his eyes.

"Was Frankie too mean? I'm so sorry about that." Ms R cooed, mirth glinting in her pretty eyes. "I was told you want a bigger cut, is that true?"

Will managed to wheeze out an answer, "Yes.”

He could lie, but that would make everything so much worse for him. But he knew they can’t kill him, they can’t afford to lose him, after all, he was one of their biggest helping hands in covering their smuggling. Especially for being the owner of a transport company.

“Alright, why do you want a bigger cut, Will?” Ms R asked, holding her chin in her palm, her elbow resting on one of her thighs.

Will glanced up at the four men watching him, and when he met eyes with Frank, he gulped under the glare and quickly looked back at the woman’s somehow kinder eyes.

“My cut is lower than the market price, I want a fair deal.” He said, blood dripping down his lips and spitting to the side and flinched when Billy surged forward but got held back by Frank.

Ms R hummed, “Okay, I understand. How about 1 mil?”

Will’s eyes popped out of their sockets in shock, “1 million?”

“Yes, but under one condition, Will.” The woman smirked, making him hesitantly nod. “I want the name of whoever told you about the market price you’re talking about.”  

Will’s eyes widened but she kept talking, “I’m giving you one hell of an opportunity here, not everybody gets 1 million per month. And plus, I’m sure whoever told you isn’t as important and dear to you as your little girl and your wife. I met your wife a couple of days ago at one of my favourite brunch places, she’s beautiful and kind, she even gave me her personal health trainer information and which yoga classes she goes to! I wonder how such a woman like her ended up married to someone like you...”  

Will was now visibly sweating, “What- What did you tell her?”  

“Oh, nothing she doesn’t already know.” Ms R smiled devilishly down at him and waved her hand dismissively.

“So, name?”  

Will looked away from her face and stared at the ceiling instead, breathing through his mouth loudly and thinking while his heart in his chest beat loudly, making him able to feel his own pulse in his ears. He weighed his options and clenched his eyes shut, “Do you promise to keep them safe?”

“We won’t hurt them, I promise.”  

“It was, uh, Rumlow.” He breathed out and didn’t notice Billy and Frank glancing at each other with confused frowns and Wade mumbling a ‘What the fuck’ and Peter’s wide confused eyes.

“Thank you. Tell your accountants to invoice us 1 million next month.” Ms R said and finally stood up, turning to Wade.

“Untie him and walk him out, please.”

ohoho will, you're so fucked. and so is Rumlow. (and lowkey Frank and billy as well. wait till Peter and Wade leave 🧍‍♀️)

[she-karev]

Out of Nowhere (Jo Wilson and Amber Karev Sisters Imagine)

Previous Chapter Here

Age Rating: 12+

Chapter: Four of Six

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

WARNING: THERE ARE ELEMENTS OF STALKING, DOMESTIC ABUSE AND HARRASSMENT IN THIS CHAPTER.

AN: Here’s the fourth chapter you guys and I always appreciate a like and reblog.

Summary: Amber Karev helps Jo confront Paul Stadler and get a divorce.

Words: 2189

I hold Jo’s hand and gently guide her out of the gallery room after the surgery ended. I wanted to get her out during but she insisted on staying and listening to him tell lie after lie about her. If I wasn’t so concerned about her safety, I would’ve pressed the call button and yell at the son of a bitch for what he did to her. But if I did that, I would give her away and the bastard would know even after she left he’s still haunting her.

Jo is pale as a ghost and I can tell from her red-rimmed eyes that she was crying but I don’t point it out. A part of me wonders if this is what my mom looked like when my so-called father hit her. I am grateful that I wasn’t a witness to it but pity Alex and Aaron who were. Growing up they told me that Jimmy beat Helen so bad that she had 12 ER visits during their 18-year marriage.

And the only reason she escaped was because Alex gave Jimmy the beating of his life and he left not long after. It took having her son beat her husband for her to escape that hell, it wasn’t her decision it was Alex’s. I always wondered if she stayed because she was too in love with him or too sick to make a sane and safe decision. I always feared that I would end up like her not just because of her illness but because she stayed with someone who hurt her. I think my brother, Aaron, feared that too because any guy I would bring home or go on a date with he would interrogate them and scare them away. For the first time I’m actually grateful to have overprotective brothers like that because it probably saved me from being in Jo’s situation.

“It’s not true.” My thought train stops as Jo speaks for the first time since we left the gallery and I look at her confused, “It’s not true. Some of it is but he takes what’s true and twists it to make himself the good guy and me the psycho. It’s not true.”

My heart breaks for her as I see her struggling to reign her emotions, “I know, I know what’s the truth Jo.” I grip her hand tighter to affirm my belief in her, “I’ve grown up with men like Stadler, I know an abusive POS when I see one, trust me.” We continue to walk down the hall until we stop in front of Alex and Meredith who are conversing.

“Are you two, okay?” Alex asks immediately after seeing us.

“We’re fine. We just got out to the gallery; we were coming to find you.” Jo lets go of my hand, “Don’t worry I didn’t let him know we were there.”

“It’s not true.” Jo repeats this time to Alex and Grey who look at her in sympathy, “It’s not true. He takes the truth but he-he twists it and changes it to fit his own story. It’s not-it’s not true.”

Alex and I exchange a sympathetic look as Grey approaches Jo and holds her shoulders, “You are Jo Wilson. I know exactly who you are.” Grey tells her with simplicity and I nod in agreement. I don’t know Jo that well but I know her better than some guy who gives off serial killer vibes. Meredith hugs Jo who cries on her shoulder and all I can do is look as she breaks down over her past coming to her doorstep.

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

I sit in the gallery next to Alex, he and I along with Grey console Jo who is still shaken. Alex explains that Paul got in yesterday at the same time I was followed by a stranger concluding that he was the one who was in the car. Looking at the fact’s it makes sense why he would do it. I’m the sister of the man who slept with his wife while she was still legally married to him. It can make your garden variety psychopath snap and go after their enemies loved ones, especially ones who are no physical match for them.

The thought makes my skin crawl but I remind myself that Jo needs help more. I texted Andrew to meet us in the gallery so he can be in the loop. I promised him I would call if I needed help and finding out who my stalker is and just how deep this goes qualifies. If it was a random guy, I wouldn’t be so scared but to find out it was a revolutionary surgeon who has so many connections and so much wealth makes it so much worse.

Andrew enters the gallery with a thin layer of sweat on his skin, “Hey, are you okay?”

I chuckle darkly, “Not in the least. I know who he is. My stalker I know who it is.”

“He came to you?” Andrew asks concerned.

“No he…he’s Paul Stadler.” Andrew’s eyes shot up recognizing the name, “It’s Jo’s ex-husband.”

Andrew takes a moment to process before speaking, “You mean the ex who-”

“Yeah.” Jo answers numbly, “He got here yesterday and I saw him an hour ago. It would be a major coincidence if a rich stalker got in a black lexus around the same time my violent ex-husband shows up in town.”

“It isn’t.” Alex retorts venomously and I realize he must have talked to him, “I talked to him and he mentioned me having a sister.”

Andrew takes a seat next to me and gently touches my shoulder, “Did he talk to you? Did he hurt you?”

“No, I didn’t see him, I just saw him perform surgery up here with Jo and…this guy is seriously demented.”

“He is.” Jo agrees and has a look of concern and turns to Alex, “How’s Frankie?”

“He’s okay.” Alex says, “We were able to stop the bleeding from his AVM in time.”

“…I’m so sorry Amber.” I shake my head at Jo’s apology but she continues, “This is my mess I never wanted him to hurt anyone else especially you. I should’ve never sent those papers in the first place.”

I don’t get mad instead I see this from a logical standpoint and try to comfort Jo, “If it’s any consolation he would’ve found you some other way and I would’ve been in this mess in that scenario.”

“Why the hell is he after Amber?” Andrew asks frustrated.

“Um let me think, my brother slept with his wife while she was still technically married to him, he’s a controlling and jealous sociopath who likes to hit women and I am a 130-pound woman with genetic ties to a man he hates but can’t beat up.” Alex inhales sharply clearly frustrated for me as well, “I think that about covers why he’s looking to kill me.”

“We’re not gonna let him do that.” Alex says with finality, “To either of you.”

“Same.” Andrew says with seriousness as well.

Meredith speaks up, “How do you two want to handle this?” They look at me and Jo waiting for us to answer and Jo speaks first.

“I want to be divorced. I want to never see his face ever again.” I nod in agreement, it’s not much but it might get him away from here and away from all of us.

Alex interjects, “I’m coming with you for that.”

“No you are not going anywhere near him.” Meredith says sternly. Normally I would want him in the room but knowing how he reacted when he thought Andrew hurt Jo, I think it’s best if he leaves him alone.

“I should’ve killed him when I had the chance.”

“For once you and I are in agreement.” Andrew chips in and I glare at him but he doesn’t back down, “It says something if I want him to beat the guy up.”

“Which is exactly why.” Meredith says, “Alex we have got this. She is not going to be alone with him.”

“She’s not.” I say, “I’m gonna be in that room with her.”

“No.” Alex and Andrew say in unison and I look at both of them in annoyance.

“I’m not some kid you need to protect and unlike you.” I look at Alex, “I don’t have a record that goes beyond juvie so I’ll do less time if he tries anything to her.”

“I don’t like this, Amber.” Andrew says in worry, “He almost killed Jo and you-”

“Grew up wrestling two brothers, took boxing for six years and have an incredibly high pain threshold.” Andrew quiets as I rehash my violent past, “Believe me when I say it’s him you should be worried about making out of this meeting alive. I’m gonna help Jo get this bastard out of our lives even if I have to break his fingers to get him to hold the pen.” Andrew and Alex look at each other in worry.

“She’s gonna do this whether we agree with it or not isn’t she?” Andrew asks Alex plainly.

Alex nods annoyed, “I blame myself for her being so damn stubborn.”

“At least you two know when to back out of a losing fight.” I hold Jo’s hand, “Let’s get you that divorce.”

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

I pace the floor anxiously along with Meredith while Jo sits at the conference table. She sent a nurse to tell Paul to meet us at the conference room on three so they can sign the divorce papers. Alex is back in the peds floor checking on Frankie and Andrew is back at the pit despite insisting he be in the room too. From what I saw in his reactions to the cops I can tell him being in the room with the man who harassed me would end badly for all of us.

A knock on the door causes me to inhale sharply and stand by Jo to protect her. Meredith opens the door and my blood boils as soon as I see Paul Stadler on the other side of the door. At first glance you wouldn’t think him the type to hit his wife and stalk a young woman. But that’s how they fool you I guess; they act the part and people follow.

“You have the divorce papers?” Meredith asks.

Paul holds the folder up indicating the papers are in it, “If you wouldn’t mind Dr. Grey, I’d like to have a moment alone with-”

“Actually I do mind. I’m gonna stay here.” Meredith sits next to Jo and I keep standing by her right side ready to pounce if he so much as lays a hand on her.

“Okay then.” He moves to the other side of the table and looks at me like he doesn’t recognize me, “I-I’m sorry who are you?”

“…You know exactly who I am.” I hiss out, “And if I were I’d sign that line at the bottom and get the hell out before two real men come in here at my beck and call if you stay for a second longer than you need to.”

I can tell I hit a nerve because a vein pops in his forehead but he inhales to control himself. It pleases me that I’m aggravating him, “Let’s get this done, shall we?”

I pull out my pen and slide it across the table for him to catch. He clicks it and before signing he looks at Jo who avoids eye contact. I continued to stare daggers at him silently ordering him to keep his eyes off her. He does so and signs his name before handing her the folder and pen. She quickly grabs both and signs her name as fast as she can before closing the folder. Paul tries to grab it but Dr. Grey takes it.

“We’ve got it, it’s faster this way.” She leads Paul to the door and I clasp Jo’s shoulder in support.

“It’s over.” I whisper to her but Paul turns and speaks to her to my anger.

“I’m really happy for you Jo.” I scowl at him again to get him to leave but he doesn’t he keeps spouting lies, “I hope this brings you…some real peace. You deserve it, we both do.” I swallow the bile in my throat at his words and keep quiet but Jo doesn’t.

“You don’t deserve anything good.” Paul is clearly triggered as he stops at the doorway, “You’re a monster.” Jo says with ease and Paul finally walks away and closes the door. I exhale letting my steam out and my angry face show while Meredith sits back down with Jo.

“I swear I was this close to taking my pen and jabbing it in his eye.” I admit in a gruff voice.

“You both did great and it’s over.” I nod at Meredith’s words but Jo is looking at Paul through the window and notices something that sets her off.

“No. No it’s not. I need Robbins. Where’s Robbins?”

My anger turns to confusion as me and Meredith look at Jo confused over her words.

Next Chapter Here

[chamberedbeauty]

The outing this time proved to be slightly less terrifying at the first. Maybe she was just too sad to care. Maybe none of it mattered anymore- especially if Bucky wanted her to be shipped back to the 40s anyways. But after the third block she'd finally managed to walk behind a group, noticing how they'd stop at the red light above, hit a button on the pole, then walk when a lit up man across the street came into to view. Ten blocks in, she finally felt as if she could catch on enough. And so her quest to Upper Manhattan was uneventful and she let herself wallow in her grief and misery until she reached the church. And finally, something looked the same- or at least close to it.

Tears came down her cheeks as she reached the locked gate guarding the cemetery behind the church, sniffing before Gwen's hands found it- and began climbing the gate- just as Bucky and June had taught her near the harbor. Twenty minutes pass before she finally lays eyes on the old white stone.

Lieutenant General Harry Joseph Madison. October 2, 1920-April 25, 1945.

Immediately Gwen falls to her knees in front of the stone, her thumb reaching to gently brush the marble as a sob wracks her body. "I-I..." She shakes her head, letting more tears fall. "I'm so sorry....I'm so so sorry. I should have been there." Her hands fumble over the stone until her eyes fixate on the diamond on her finger, images of him on one knee days after Pearl Harbor. There was excitement in his eyes, yet a sense of dread that only Gwen could pick up on. He was scared to go to war, and yet his voice didn't waver when he said they would marry straight in the glory of America's and nothing would be more perfect. But he didn't make it back...with only days before the Soviets took over Berlin and months left of the war....he didn't make it home to marry her or anyone.

Another sob comes and quickly, for the second time today, the woman begins digging at the ground, clawing at the frozen ground until she'd managed to make a small hole. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." She turns her attention to her ring again and pries it off her finger and places it in the hole. There was no need for it any longer. It was just a symbol of lost love. A symbol of tragedy. A symbol of conflict. She begins covering the hole with dirt then freezes, quickly taking the ring out and holds in against her chest as she lays on the ground and cries- just as she did "months" ago at Bucky's grave.

She's unsure how long she's out there when she feels a gentle hand on her shoulder, causing her to scramble backwards in fear until she catches a glimpse of the white collar and while it wasn't the Priest she once knew...there was a comfort that came over her as he carefully helped her to her feet and escorted her inside the church.

She fell asleep surprisingly quickly- after a conversation with the Priest and blessing. The inside was nearly identical to how it looked when she left and for the first time since waking up- she finally felt safe. She finally felt a little less broken.

Her sleep in undisturbed and she wakes in the morning hours, stretching out before glancing up and is surprised to no longer see Father Charles, but Sam Wilson sitting next to her. Slowly Gwen pushes herself up, wrapping the blanket around herself tightly as she stares ahead at the alter, listening to him speak as she toys with the diamond back on her finger.

"She seems like a smart woman. I uh....I didn't grow up in this church. We attended a much larger one- St. Patrick's Cathedral. I um...I saw it was still standing on my way over here. My fiance Harry...he grew up in a larger church as well, but shortly after dating he wanted to find one that could be ours. Believe it or not, but we chose this one because it was smaller and less grand. It had a more intimate feel. You um, you see that stained first stained glass window to the east? The original one had been busted by a couple of teenagers from Queens. Harry and I paid for the new window....it still has our names on the ledge. He loved this place so much, but I didn't know-" Gwen pauses, feeling her throat tighten as tears start to sing her eyes. "I didn't know he had it set to be buried here, instead on his family's lot if he were to have died during the war. He's buried alone..."

She clears her throat, forcing herself to focus on something else. "Bucky told me that you were Steve's partner when he started fulfilling his role as Captain America again. He said you helped him when no one else would. Steve was always really careful about who he let get to know him, so you must be pretty special. But...but I want to thank you for standing by him. I know...I know he couldn't have always made it easy- especially with that stubbornness he had. But he...he was such a good and just man....clearly are too."

Gwen's quiet for a few moments, feeling that overwhelming sadness begin to creep back into her veins. "What is there to talk about really? I have two options. No matter which one I choose...there will be no normal. There will be no peace."

The woman sniffs, running a hand through her hair. "I know him too- or at least- I did. I knew him better than I knew myself. I know....I know war can change people and I-I still don't understand how he is here or what happened, but-but that man back in Brooklyn is not the Bucky I knew. He has never...never gotten angry towards me like that or said something so cruel- and I to him. I'm not innocent, I never was and-and maybe he hates me but I....I wanted him back so badly. Maybe....maybe it's best if I just go back but who's to say my parents wouldn't still die in an accident if I did? And if I go back I could never see Steve? I would just have to pretend that he was still a ghost? I-I miss him too, you know? He was my world just as Bucky was. And if Bucky were with the Soviets, I would- I would tell people. I wouldn't leave that alone. I had powerful connections and....and I'd get him home. But I'm just supposed to sit....and wallow in my misery."

Gwen bites her lip, giving a quick sniff as she wipes at her eyes. "Both choices are going to have consequences. Both choices are going to hurt. And I'm so tired....I'm so tired of hurting. I'm just...I'm just really really sad...so is he. You see it too. Why won't he go back too? He'd have Steve, he'd have sisters back. He could say to hell with me but he could have...he could have some of his life back."

The problem with knowing someone as intimately as they knew each other, is how easily it was to weaponize that knowledge. As he'd pointedly struck in all the ways that would make her self conscious, she also knew exactly where to slip the knife to pierce his heart.

For years, in his darkest moments, he'd shed light on the fear of becoming his father. He'd felt that rage, had struggled with it especially when coupled it was coupled with alcohol. He knew that he was cut from the same cloth, that the apple didn't fall far. But there were those that enjoyed provoking him. He remembered the tips of Cheryl's nails as her teeth grazed his ear. The way she whispered and purred and stoked the fires of his anger.

He remembered it igniting in simpler ways too, when he'd step in to stand up for Steve, or tell someone off for Gwen. But neither of them saw the issue in it then, they'd both hero worshipped him, spurred it on, excused it.

Until now.

And he staggered back from the blow of it as he realized this was not the first time she'd flinched as if he would strike her. As if he could ever. But he can't even bring himself to respond, he won't take back what he's said, and now, the words feel justified. So his response is to back away towards the couch with a humorless laugh, a strangled sort of sound. Gwen does not see that as he does so, every single piece of his soul is breaking apart. When he feels the edge of it against his knees, he sinks heavily, and puts his head in his hands. He's still there when she emerges, when she tells him where she's going, and leaves.

He doesn't stop her. He doesn't follow her. He doesn't have it in him to do anything for a while except still wallow. But he knows she's not meant to be out there alone, knows that if she's caught, it will be more harm than good, so he does the only thing he really can do. He swipes his cheeks as if there were tears that spilled over, but comes away dry. He pulls his phone from his pocket and dial's Sam's number.

"Are you still in the city?" He asks, when the other man answers.

"You still have my car, so..." It lacks the vigor Sam would normally have at Bucky asking such an obvious question, and is instead laced with concern. It's a testament to how precarious the situation really is. "You do still have it, right?"

"Yeah, and it's in one piece," He pauses, not really sure how to continue. It would be easy to say Gwen left, that she walked out, but somehow it doesn't feel enough. Somehow the words are trapped in his throat, unable to escape.

"Just tell me what happened." It's Sam's gentle coaxing that unlocks it, and Bucky surprises them both by telling him everything.

The church is dramatic in a way only old architecture can be - it's lavish and grand, with arches and stained glass windows. It's built upon the backs of catholic guilt and funded by the promise of Heaven - Sam thinks, and realizes it's a bit of a dark thought and dials it back. Church and God, they are things he's struggled with in his own time on this planet, as he watched people suffer and pray. He watched those prayers go unanswered, though he knew Sarah would kick his ass if she knew he harbored any type of doubt.

But despite his own reservations, he knew the power of belief.

His hands are in his pockets as he pushes open the door and is met with a soothing warmth. He'd already checked the grounds and hoped this would be a logical course of action for a girl out of time with no where else to go. He takes in the rich cedar pews, and the deep red cushions for kneeling as he walks towards the front of the room. He sees the back of an old man's head, it turns, meets his gaze. He sees the collar and he sees a flash of reservation in it, but as Sam comes closer, he sees it's out of protection than anything his mind could have inferred.

Beside the priest, on the pew, laying on her side wrapped in a blanket, is Gwen. Sam clutches his chest with the relief of it. "She - " He starts to say, but is waved off.

"I know." Is all the priest says as he gets up, and leaves the space for Sam to occupy.

He shoots Bucky a quick text and resigns himself to wait. He waits until the sun starts to rise, and filter through the glass, changing the hues of the space around them. He waits until she starts to stir, then leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, lacing his fingers together. He waits while he contemplates what's the best thing to say to her. He waits while he feels like he's navigating through a field full of land mines: telling her what she's supposed to do feels wrong, as is raising the topic of Bucky right away. He doesn't know Harry to offer anything but empty condolences. But the bigger fact remains, she does not know Sam Wilson from Adam and his sincerity could be called into question.

"You know," He starts, and he's almost whispering because somehow talking any louder feels wrong. "My mom would roll over in her grave if she knew I was sitting in a Catholic church like this, but she was always a more down to Earth worshipper. She found all of this to be too extravagant... She would smack me around the ears and tell me God would love me if I was kneeling on the ground in a puddle. Then putter around and talk about how unnecessary all this was. But I can kind of see the appeal."

A shrug. The olive branch has been offered.

"You don't have to talk to me, but you need to talk to somebody. At least I know him."

[bensolosbluesaber]

Secret Identities - Part 2 (Marc Spector, Steven Grant, and Jake Lockley x reader)

Summary: The Avengers, your team of superheroes, has been called in to handle an invasion in New York, and you’re bringing your superhero boyfriend, Moon Knight, with you.

Part 2 to Secret Identities.

Action/adventure, Cameo-fest

Pairings: Marc Spector x reader, Steven Grant x reader, Jake Lockley x reader

Warnings and A/N: I did my best to accurately represent DID, I put very little effort into creating a plot and a lot of effort into writing dialogue

--

It was only you, Marc, and the agent - whose name you had never learned and didn’t care to learn - on the quinjet. You held Marc’s hand the entire time. There was no denying the anxious fluttering in your stomach as your two lives continued converging. Each second brought Marc closer to the Avengers, and you’d be lying if you said that didn’t scare the shit out of you.

You read through the briefing notes, getting occasional comments from the agent now piloting the quinjet. Rogue artificial intelligence, not Ultron level, but dangerous nonetheless. SWORD suspected some alien involvement, but that wasn’t the concern right now. The immediate issue was an army of robots hidden underground waiting to be activated.

At some point you started to fall asleep against Marc’s shoulder. He gingerly shifted you into a laying position resting your head on his thigh in a familiar comfortable position. His hand settles in your hair and strokes the curves of your face, soothing you into sleep. You hardly sleep for an hour before Marc shakes you awake.

“Something’s happening.”

“We need to drop you in,” the agent called back. “The activation happened earlier than our intelligence suggested. Most of the team is already on the ground. Everyone else is on their way. Don’t forget your comm links.”

You sit up and rifle through your bag, pulling out a familiar costume and stripping off your clothes. Marc blinks at you a few times like he’s surprised at your lack of modesty. He knows you well enough that he really shouldn’t be.

“We can’t all summon our suits,” you tease and toss him an ear piece, even as his eyes begin to glow with white moonlight.

“Tell her she looks amazing!” Steven gushes.

“Keep it in your pants,” Jake snaps back.

You reach for a parachute, but Marc’s white gloved hand stops you.

“I can fly you in,” he offers through the mask. 

“You told me no flying last month!” You protest.

“I didn’t know you were an Avenger last month.”

“Bad call, mate.”

“Oh, so you thought I was fragile before?” You tease, not really mad at the man.

His mask peels away so he can tilt his head and shoot you an amused glare.

“You’re in range!” The agent calls back.

You turn and plant a kiss on Marc’s lips, then punch a button. The door opens slowly with a cold rush of air. You wrap your arms around his strong body, take a deep breath, and together you jump from the plane into free fall. His cape catches like a parachute part way down, guiding you through the clouds lower and lower until the skyline is in view.

Smoke rises from burning buildings, the wreckage of a city that has again become a battle ground.

“Shit,” Marc whispers. “We’re gonna have to stop having technology free dates.”

“Yeah,” you reply, only half paying attention, too busy scanning the ground for your fellow Avengers. It’s pure chaos on the ground, a complete and utter disaster, but then, through the smoke… “There!”

You point Marc in the direction of a bright flash of blue and white, and he angles you toward the ground. The comm link in your ear begins to crackle and finally beeps a connection. You were right.

“-end up here? We’re supposed to be on vacation!” The voice of Bucky Barnes fills your ear at the same moment the bright red, white, and blue wings of Sam Wilson reappear. “Sam, what the fuck is in the sky?”

That would be Marc.

“Good morning, Captain America,” you smile down at the small figures of your friends on the ground.

“Oh thank god,” Sam replies. “Buck and I are a-” he grunts, “A bit outnumbered. We have to hold this street, or it will interfere with the wizards’ spell.”

You’re streaking toward the fight below, finally able to see the action for real. They are more than a bit outnumbered, the two men surrounded by humanoid robots armed to the teeth with every bit of weapons technology available. You drop to the ground at Bucky’s side, Marc landing next to you.

“You’re late,” Bucky calls. “Who’s the mummy?”

Marc shoots him a glare.

“Marc, don’t glare at Bucky Barnes! That’s-”

“I know who Bucky Barnes is Steven,” he answers silently.

Yeah, he knew Bucky Barnes. Well, Steven knew. At some point in their childhood, Steven realized he shared part of a name with Steven Grant Rogers and harbored a small fascination with the former Captain America ever since.

“That’s Moon Knight!” Sam’s wing decapitates a robot as he turns to look Marc up and down. “Read your briefing packets, Buck.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and returns to the fight. You draw two long knives, gifts from King T’Challa, and make short work of any robot that approaches. Marc hurls crescent darts, each finding their target. But he doesn’t let Steven front. Not yet at least.

Occasionally, he glances back at you, checking to make sure you’re alright. You are doing the same to him. You have never fought at his side before, but already you know that you would do it again and again.

“The sorcerers - not wizards, Sam - are working some spell in that building,” Bucky gestures vaguely behind him. “They can shut the whole AI down, but we have to keep these things out.”

“Androids!” Sam shouts as he jumps over one and buries his shield in it’s neck. “Androids controlled by aliens who can be stopped by wizards. The big three!”

“The big three?” Marc turns to Captain America.

“Don’t ask!” You and Bucky shout at the same time.

The four of you stand no chance of holding this street. Of course this couldn’t be a time-efficient spell, and the robots just keep coming, an endless supply of mindless soldiers puppeteered by some unknown force. A piece of shrapnel slashes your face, distracting you from the fight for a split second. It’s enough for a blow to land at your midsection, knocking the breath from you.

You pull the gun from your waist, SWORD issue with some advanced technology you don’t care to understand, and shoot. It’s not your preferred weapon, but it is necessary. Marc is by your side in an instant. He grabs you around the waist and wraps you in the white fabric of his cape. 

It’s just the two of you in this little cocoon. The rest of the world is forgotten as his mask falls away for a moment. The expression on his face is pure horror, lips pressed in a tight line, eyes murderous. His gaze is focused on the blood dripping down your cheek.

“I’m fine,” you insist and run your fingers across his nose and brow that is furrowed deeply, trying to soothe away those worry lines.

“I need Jake,” he breathes, a confession he rarely makes. “We need Jake.”

Jake will do anything to protect Marc and Steven and anything to protect you. It’s probably why you had never actually seen Jake suited up for a fight. He is the ‘whatever it takes’ part of the system, and all three of them are still afraid to show you that side.

“Okay,” you grip his upper arms. “It’s okay.”

His eyes flicker for a second, then his suit shifts, darkens to a midnight black that is more like tactical armor than Marc’s mummy wrappings. A bright white crescent moon shines on his chest; it matches the bright white of his cape. He tilts his head with a little smirk, and just like that Jake Lockley has joined the fray.

“Cap? Cap?” Someone is shouting through coms. “We’re coming to you. Do you copy?”

The voice is crackly, so you can’t make out exactly who it is.

You turn back to the fight, watching with bit of admiration and a lot of attraction as Jake expertly dispatches android after android.

“Did he change outfits mid fight?” Bucky punches a robot beside you.

“Sort of.”

You kick a robot across the head, stabbing one of your vibranium knives into it’s chest and immediately lashing out toward another. You glance up, and the world seems to slow around you. The battle is forgotten as you can only stare at Jake. He is fighting desperately, holding his own except...

Except behind him. A metallic arm is raising a heavy blade for a killing blow, metal arching toward his neck. You’re trying to scream his name. You are screaming his name, but it’s too late. You stab the android in front of you, but you will never make it. Jake’s suit will protect him from a lot, heal just about anything, but not decapitation.

Red flashes across your view, a bright flash hurtling through the air. A stick strikes the robot through the forehead, and the metal being collapses in a dead heap. Jake whips his head around as he realizes what almost happened. A figure in dark red drops from a nearby fire escape, grabs the stick from the robots sparking brain, and nods to you. He jumps into the fight at Jake’s side, the two men working together with an impressive synchrony for two strangers.

“How did you see that?” Jake shouts.

“I heard it,” Matt Murdock replies as he dispatches another android.

A few more minutes and the fighting finally stops. Another wave of robots is undoubtedly assembling nearby, but for now the team has a moment to breathe.

Jake’s mask falls away as he studies Daredevil. His eyes linger on the upper half of Matt’s face, noticing how his eyes are completely obscured by the dark red of his mask. You sprint to Jake’s side, wanting to reach for his hand, hold him, kiss him, feel that he is alive, but you restrain yourself. Your relationship is a secret, and for now you want to keep it that way.

“So this is the boyfriend?” Matt asks.

Your relationship is not a secret.

“How-” you start to question how Matt could possibly know that you had a boyfriend, let alone that this was him.

“You started smelling different a few months ago,” he explains. “It’s him. His scent is all over you.”

“Is there a better way to say that then ‘his scent is all over you’? Tone down the creepy… vibes? Vibes? Is that the word?” 

“Give up on the modern slang, Buck,” Sam makes a face and pats his partners’ shoulder mockingly.

You plant a kiss to Jake’s cheek, and he brushes his hand across your fingers to tell you that he is okay. You watch him and Daredevil with interest, hoping Jake might find a friend in the hero who protected his city with the same ferocity and passion as Jake protected Steven, Marc, and you.

“What’s up with the little horns, el diablo?” Jake asks. “What are you the hero of? Hell?”

“Hell’s Kitchen, and it’s Daredevil actually.”

Jake shoots you a glance then shifts his gaze back to Matt. A smile fills his features, a genuine one, and a second later the same expression appears on Matt’s face. You let out a heavy sigh of relief as they slip into easy conversation and you turn back to Sam and Bucky.

“You and Moon Knight, huh?” Sam frowns. “Guess Spidey was right.”

As if summoned by his name, the mysterious masked hero drops from the sky.

“Hey you guys! There’s another group heading our way.”

He starts to turn to Cap, notices Jake and does a double take to stare at the white costumed man, everyone else forgotten. Jake looks at him completely unimpressed.

“Oh my god, you’re Moon Knight!” Spider-Man’s voice has a youthfulness that always surprises you. “I love you! I wanted a cape because of you, but I gave up the idea pretty quick. I mean not in New York right? Handsy people. It would never have lasted. Wow! Mr. Knight, you are so cool.”

“Mr. Knight,” Steven tries out the name “I like that.”

“I hate it,” Marc replies.

“Well that seems like your problem don’t it? I’m keeping it. You can be Moon Knight. I’ll be Mr. Knight.”

“Marc, right?” Spidey asks, and you can practically see the mischief forming in the boys’ mind at his well-meaning mistake.

“I’m Jake.”

“Sorry! Jake-”

Jake’s expression changes, the suit shifting with him.

“Oops, Steven now,” Steven grins.

“O-Okay, Steven,” Spider-Man tries to keep up.

The suit changes as Marc fronts.

“Marc again,” he teases, messing with the young hero.

“Oh,” that catches Spidey off guard. “Nice to meet you, Marc.”

“Actually, Jake now.”

“Leave him alone, you three,” you glower at Jake but have to fight back a laugh.

You thanked any god you could think of that Spider-Man had been there with his goofy remarks and joking attitude to make it easier for Marc, Steven, and Jake to show off this particular skill set.

“Sorry, love.”

That’s Steven.

He adjusts his white suit jacket and grins at Spider-Man, ““You know, the cape is actually really overrated, kid.”

“I’m Spider-Man,” he lowers his voice and puts extra emphasis on the ‘man.’

“More like Spider-Kid,” Jake mutters.

Steven ignores his alter and nods conspiratorially to Spider-Man. He gives him a thumbs up like they just shared a secret.

“Figure out how to really punch criminals yet?” Daredevil snarks, tossing an arm across Spider-Man’s shoulders affectionately.

“I’m not beating the shit out of people,” he protests.

“It’s more efficient.”

“Whatever you say ‘really good lawyer.’”

You observe their interaction with some interest. Had Matt defended whoever was in the Spider-Man suit? No time for that now though, you realize as a mechanical whirring fills the air. You take a defensive stance at Steven’s side, Bucky to your right. Cap and Spidey leap into the air. Matt stands beside Steven.

Sam looks down at his makeshift team then out at the approaching mechanical army. They’re not much, but they’ll do.

“Avengers…”

--

A/N: I left this open for a part 3. Not sure if I’ll write it, but I do think a 3rd part to wrap it all up and let the system meet some other Avengers would be fun! Let me know if you want added to my general Moon Knight tag list!

Tag List: @love-on-the-murder-scene @bookfrog242 @irethepotato @graciexmarvel @simonsbluee @nagemasstuff @whovian378 @cringingmemeries @eerievixen @velyssaraptor

Other Tags: @bored-as-hell-666​ @teenageranchpsychicwagon @yanelimerida @winterwitch107 @tachibubu @eiressmurdock087 @natalieisfreeziing @thehuntresswolf @isnt-itstrange​ @dearlawdimasimp​ @multi-fandoms-of-madness

[romanoffjohansson]

JOJO: Chapter Two - Fascinated

summary: Y/n is a single mom to her 5 year old daughter, JoJo. What happens when JoJo brings Natasha into Y/n’s life after an almost tragic event?

chapter summary: a first date with a redhead and an unexpected connection.

pairings: Natasha Romanoff x singlemom!reader

word count: 2330

warnings: none.

Y/N POV

It hadn’t even been two whole days since I met Natasha in the park, but we had texted almost non-stop. I don’t know what it was about her but I felt so at ease and comfortable talking to her, which is rare for me, especially the past couple of years. The sky was painted with shades of pink and orange as I polished off my makeup: tonight I was getting dinner with Natasha, as promised. A musical knock sounded on the door of my apartment and within moments I was swinging open the door to be met by my best friend, Sam.

“Damnnnnn you look good girl” he looked me up and down with a cocky smirk.

“You’re late Wilson. And all of this?” I paused, motioning down my body and up again with my hands, “is not for you.”

“What a shame. Hot date huh?” He teased, knowing all the details of my encounter with the red-head. Immediately my cheeks deepened to a shade of crimson.

“Something like that… maybe…” I faltered as my head bowed to avoid eye contact with my partner in crime. Changing the subject, I yelled throughout the apartment “JOJO, UNCLE SAM IS HERE!” Tiny pounding footsteps could be heard echoing throughout the room as my daughter charged from her bedroom before sliding down the spiraling staircase on her bum. She raced towards the tall man and threw herself into his arms.

Sam had been there for JoJo since the day she was born, and he’s the closest thing she has to a father figure. He made an effort to see her, and me, as much as possible, and was always on hand to babysit. I’ve known Sam since I was 18 – we met through JoJo’s father and have been almost inseparable ever since. I say almost, he recently managed to get himself involved with the Avengers. Though I’m extremely proud of him, I’m also very jealous since he refuses to let me meet any of them. He says I’ll embarrass him… I call bullshit.

My five year olds legs flailed through the air as Sam swung her around before resting her on his hip. Her little giggles made my heart soar.

“Hi Sammy!” She spoke through her smiling lips before wrapping her arms around his shoulders as far as she could reach. I left the pair to chat whilst I slipped into my outfit. Though this was our first date, we were going to a pretty nice restaurant so I figured I should dress up… plus I wanted to look my best for a certain person since the last time she saw me I had tear stained cheeks. My hair was pulled back into a slick, low bun and my makeup was golden with a smoky eye. All I had left to do was pack my things into my handbag and wait…

 Nat POV

I pulled up to the address Y/n had sent me and parked on the curb. The building was tall, grand and modern, with a gold revolving door at the entrance. As I entered the lobby I was greeted by smartly dressed, formal looking staff.

“Good evening ma’am,” a grey haired man spoke. He smiled lightly, stood behind a lush, mahogany counter.

“Hi, I’m here to see Y/n, apartment 85.” I faced the man, smiling sweetly, hoping he’d point me in the right direction.

“Right this way,” he swiftly floated around the counter and headed down an elegant corridor toward multiple elevator doors, pressing the button to push one into operation. I thanked the man as he stepped out of the elevator after having selected the button for the correct floor. Standing back and observing my surroundings, I noticed that Y/n lived on the top floor. Fancy. Once I arrived I knocked on her door. I could hear light conversation behind the door, I assumed it was Y/n and her daughter, but the door swung open, revealing the last person I expected to see.

“Sam?” I stared at my teammate with utter confusion which his face and tone of voice echoed.

“Nat? What are you doing here? Do we have a mission?”

“No I- I’m here to pick up my date…” He remained silence, staring at me. “Y/n?” I clarified. His face both dropped and lit up at the same time.

“OH SHIT HAHAAA OH MY GOD YOU’RE THE REDHEAD THAT Y/N MET IN THE PARK NO WAY THIS IS TOO GOOD.” I was about to respond until I heard another voice.

“Okay, so she’s had dinner and can sleep in her onesie but if she gets hungry she can have a snack but no later than 8:30 because I want her in bed by nine. NINE. You hear me Sam? She has school tomorrow and if she’s tired that’s on you.” I watched as Y/n paced around the apartment throwing things in her bag whilst tidying things up at the same time. You can tell she’s a mom by the way she multitasks with ease. “And if she gets too hot there’s different pyjamas in her closet. Don’t mess with my thermostat. No scary movies. No swearing in front of her. I’ve left a beer in the fridge for you but only one since she’s your responsibility tonight. Feel free to crash in the guest room because I have no idea what time I’ll be back.” She leant down to kiss her daughter who was sat on a kitchen stool with a carton of juice.

“You look really pretty mama,” she said delicately before sipping on the straw in her little hands.

“Thank you baby, you’re so sweet!” the mother responded, still walking briskly throughout her apartment.

“She’s not wrong.” I finally piped up. Y/n’s head shot up in my direction, clearly having not realised I was here. Her cheeks flushed red as her eyes met mine.

“Hi Tatasha!” The five year old waved at me from across the room, her surprised little smile causing my own grin to erupt as I waved back.

“Oh… hi.” Y/n finally spoke. My heart instantly fluttered seeing how flustered she became in my presence. “Sorry I um- I didn’t realise you were here.”

“It’s okay don’t worry. You look beautiful by the way.” I wasn’t lying. She took my breath away. Her sleek hairstyle showed off her stunning facial structure with makeup that highlighted her delicate features. She was a goddess, glowing like Aphrodite. Her outfit was flawless, teasing me with her exposed midriff. I had only seen this girl twice in my life and yet she was already doing things to me that I couldn’t describe. I tried to hide the lust that flooded my eyes.

“Thank you, not too bad yourself.” She replied to me with a delicate smile. We admired each other for a few seconds, studying each other’s slightest smiles and blushes, until we were interrupted by a throat clearing. Our heads both shot around to Sam who was stood smirking proudly.

“Sorry, am I interrupting?” His cocky tone shone through in this voice.

“Sorry, Natasha, this is-“

“Oh, I know” I interrupted.

“Huh?” Y/n looked puzzled by what I meant.

“I know him.”

“Yeah, you didn’t tell me the sexy redhead you were going on a date with was Nat!” I bowed my head to hide my smirk knowing that Y/n had called me sexy.

“I’m so confused, how do you guys know each other?” Y/n tried to clarify the confusion that flooded her brain. Sam and I pointed to each other and spoke at the same time.

“Work.”

“She’s an avenger too,” Sam spoke over me, deciding to expose me, to which he received a sharp elbow in his side.

“She’s a- You’re a- Huh? You know what? Let’s just go, we don’t want to be late for our reservation.” She smiled at me before turning back to her daughter. “Bye princess I’ll see you in the morning, okay? Behave, I love you. And you,” she paused, turning to Sam, “behave too. Look after her. Don’t wait up.” She smirked with a playful wink at him and turned to me. “Ready?” She looked so sweet and doe eyed, making my excitement for the evening ahead evening skyrocket.

“Ready.” I reached out my arm, offering for her to link it, which she took as we exited the apartment.

 Y/N POV

We walked out of my building, arm in arm, and toward the curb. I was expecting her to hail a cab, but instead I was taken aback when she pulled out a set of keys and the lights flashed on a beautiful, slick black Audi R8. She must’ve seen my jaw slightly drop as she smirked in my direction and opened the passenger side door for me to enter. We both sat in the car as the engine roared and we sped down the streets of New York. The radio played gently in the background as we delved into conversation, covering how we both knew Sam amongst various other topics.

Once we arrived, she again opened the passenger side door and offered me her arm as we walked in together. As soon as we stepped inside the grand doors we were entranced by the beauty of the place. Neither of us had been here before but we had heard incredible reviews. It was a French restaurant – fine wines, great company and beautiful décor, what more could I want?

“Good evening, welcome to Le CouCou.”

-

Soon we were both sat opposite each other at a small table in the centre of the restaurant and had ordered our food. We were encircled by the sound of chatter and clinking glasses, the aroma of French cuisine but only focused on the sight of each other. We had ordered a range of delicious foods and our wine had just arrived at the table.

“Cheers” the beautiful scarlet haired girl across from me smiled, her ruby lined lips upturning.

“Cheers” I returned.

“I’m surprised you know French; I was expecting to have to translate the menu for you.”

“I was preparing to do the same for you but since I found out you’re an avenger I’m not so surprised that you’re multilingual.” I teased her, knowing she disliked that Sam exposed that fact about her, verified by her slight eye roll.

“Hey in my defence, I told you I worked in national defence.”

“Yeah I presumed you meant like an army nurse or something not a damn superhero!”

“I don’t think there’s a difference between the two things you just said…”

“Touché.”

We drank and dined through our first two courses, sharing stories and laughter. Conversation flowed like a spring river, it was so easy to talk to her, even when the topic got tougher.

“So your daughter…”

“Josephine, yeah? What about her?”

“What’s her story?” I giggled at her attempts to ask her most desperate question.

“Are you asking why I’m a single mom to a five year old at age 26?” I smirked at her, looking up through my eyelashes as I took another bite.

“Yeahhh, pretty much… I’m sorry I shouldn’t have asked tha-“

“No, no it’s fine, I was expecting it to come up, it usually does.”

“Usually?” She looked puzzled, wondering what I was insinuating.

“Yeah, dating as a single mom isn’t exactly easy, people presume I got knocked up in college or see my kid as an issue so the story always ends up involved in the conversation.”

“I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“It’s fine, stop apologising,” I took a deep inhale before sharing the story, “I moved to New York from the town I grew up in back in England when I was 18 and had finished school to pursue my fashion career. I managed to secure an internship with a big name stylist after she discovered me through my Instagram. Less than two weeks after I moved here, I met Chris. He had left college a few years before and was training to become a therapist. That’s how he knew Sam, they met when Sam was helping veterans with PTSD and Chris was observing him. It was like a fairy tale; we both fell hard and fast and 2 years later we were engaged. Soon after that I fell pregnant so we pushed back the wedding until after I had given birth. When I was 21, JoJo came into the world. Then life and motherhood and work was just a whirlwind so we pushed the wedding back until Josie was 4 so she could really enjoy the party and the experience, the same age I was when my parents got married. We had the venue booked and my dress was picked out and everything…” I paused, taking a deep breath as I prepared to mentally relive the hardest part of my life. “Last May, a month before the wedding, David was involved in a car crash… the other driver was drunk and hit him at 85 miles per hour… it was fatal.”

I watched Natasha’s face change throughout my story, ultimately landing in a combination of shock and sorrow. I could see my reflection in her eyes as they glazed over with tears. I dipped my head, focussing on my half empty plate as I used my fork to push food around.

“Sorry I- I’ve put such a downer on the evening I shouldn’t have said anyth-“

“No you haven’t don’t be sorry, if anything I’m just even more fascinated by you.”

“You’re fascinated by me?”

“Yeah, pretty much everything about you is fascinating. And now that I know how much you’ve been through, how unbelievably strong you are… I’m just… wow.” My entire body filled with butterflies as she look deep into my eyes, both of us speechless by the other. Of all the compliments I have ever received, being told I fascinate someone is by far the most special.

This is special.

[lovelybarnes]

baby blue- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, tony stark bruce banner, steve rogers, sam wilson warnings: child bucky, language, this is long. why is this so long about: requested by @cherry-season (apparently can't tag you)! bucky turns into a baby/toddler and is clingy a/n: okay so i know virtually nothing about three-year-olds. can you tell? thank you so much for requesting!! I had so much fun writing this <333

[@tylard-blog1]

bucky’s day wasn’t particularly fantastic to begin with.

he was already exhausted when he woke up in the early lights of the morning, his nightmares had kept him up all night-- which you theorized was due to the mission the day before that took place in one of the same hydra bases bucky had been held in. you had frowned when you realized it the day of, turning your attention to bucky and making sure he was okay with it because if he wasn’t, you would make sure someone else took care of it. he had insisted it was fine, even though the next night proved him wrong. you had done what you could, running your fingers through his hair and humming lightly until you fell asleep and he refused to wake you up, resigning himself to a sleepless night.

his morning started with his flesh arm reaching out to feel your side of the bed, hoping to find your soft, warm skin to pull you closer, but instead being met with the unkind sheets that missed the gentleness of your body. he had frowned when he realized you had already left for a meeting with some important hotshot in space with carol (you couldn’t find a better excuse to go get breakfast at your favorite alien restaurant with your favorite aliens) and wouldn’t be back for a solid few hours too long. groaning, and with no real reason to stay in bed for any longer without the excuse of getting to feel you for a few more hours, he dragged himself out of bed.

it didn’t get much better from there, because he was greeted with the sight of sam eating the last bowl of the last box of cereal in the whole damn tower because everyone rejected to go grocery shopping. since bucky refused to eat any of the frozen breakfasts tony loved so much and the stark kid swore were “the best thing ever,” he grunted at sam and walked away without eating, knowing he’d regret it later when his stomach would growl and you would immediately know he skipped breakfast.

for some unknown reason, tony had found out about bucky’s lack of things to do, and with a few winks and manipulative large-worded engineering phrases, convinced him to join him in the lab, which bucky had only really been able to see through the clear glass that separated the lab from the rest of the tower, and from the occasions where he would take food and drinks to you while you locked yourself away inside, building something alongside tony.

being inside, so close to the various machines and objects bucky cant begin to figure out the purpose of, his memories of being in school and at the top of his math and engineering classes bubble to the surface, filling him with the pride he remembers having every day at school. the thought that he could probably understand everything if you or tony explained it to him passes through his mind and urges him to ask tony to do just that, but tony beats him before he can get the chance.

bruce is eyeing them wearily from the other side of the lab, attention mostly on the test tubes in front of him. he gives bucky a smile when he comes in, but seems to ignore him for the most part until tony shows bucky to bruce’s work station, pointing out a blue liquid in a test tube marked TESTING. bruce’s neck snaps to them when tony open his big mouth, “you know, y/n was actually supposed to test something out for me today,” tony begins innocently, a suggestion laced in his words that bucky catches but decides to ignore because of the high he feels from understanding the equations scribbled on the clear glass, “do you know where she is?”

bucky narrows his eyes at him, then looks up at the clock, realizing it’s still a while before you get back, “not even on earth,” he recipes blandly, slyly sneaking a glance at the liquid for any indications of what it could be.

tony sighs dramatically, his shoulders sagging, “oh no, how do i test this now?” bruce shoots tony a warning glance that is blatantly ignored.

bucky’s shrugging before he can help it, the reminder that since you were going to do it, what could be the harm if he did? “i could do it.”

tony claps, “great!” he gestures to a door behind him, “please go in there to sign non-disclosure agreements and wash your hands.”

bucky’s shoved inside before he can fully understand the implications of his stupid offer.

-

the thought of asking the basic questions he should have asked before he agreed to test an unidentified liquid comes to bucky nearly an hour later, when the small vial of weird blue liquid sits in front of him, waiting to be drunk. tony and bruce sit in chairs a couple of feet away, clipboards in both of their hands, and interested expressions settled on their features.

“what does this do again?” he asks, squinting at the vial that he doesn’t notice tony isn’t looking at, furrowing his eyebrows when tony waves him off, “something super smart. no side effects or anything.” bucky’s eyes flit down to the little vial again, before they nearly bug out of his head at the humongous laser that is rolled into the room, “what the hell is that.”

“ah,” tony grins, bouncing from his seat to stand next to his invention proudly, “this is what you’re testing out.” bucky cocks his head at the man, “i thought i was drinking blue water. y/n was going to drink blue water.” tony shakes his head, adjusting some dials on the machine, “yeah, no, it was this. pretty sure i told you.”

“you didn’t-” bruce is looking at tony in concern, about to tell him to slow down so bucky has a chance to think all this through again and maybe ask if there is any chance the laser will melt him, when tony clicks a large red button and a bright white light clouds bucky’s vision just as he sees the clock on the exact same time he saw an hour ago, realizing the clock in the billion-dollar lab is broken, and you’re probably getting home any second.

“tony!” he hears bruce yell before his vision goes dark.

it’s only a second until he can pry open his eyes again, a hand curling into a fist, ready to pound stark into tomorrow when he can suddenly feel the nails of his hand digging into his palm. the surprising feeling of it where his vibranium arm should be forces him to look down at a small arm, fully skin and thin. he looks around, noticing his surroundings suddenly have grown very large around him, and the sound of his voice is higher when he tries to speak again.

“what the f-” he mumbles, cutting himself off when a sudden memory of his ma yelling at him to wash his mouth out if he wants to talk like that floods his mind, and he stares down at himself, eyebrows furrowing when he spots his short stature and the tiny hands and feet that look up at him. realization floods him like a wave, raising his chin at the two, tall, gobsmacked men in front of. “was that supposed to happen?” bruce asks quietly, nodding slowly when tony shakes his head, “no.”

there’s a light knock at the door, your hand pushing it open before anyone can stop you, and your tired face peeks in, a glowing smiling adorning your face and your eyes searching for your boyfriend, “hey, do you guys know where bucky is-” your voice cuts through the stunned silence, pausing when you catch the little boy’s eye. at first, you stare at him, your eyebrows pulling together as you get a good look at the familiar cerulean of his eyes and scan the clothing you’d seen on bucky before. for a second, everything is silent, bucky’s eyes are wide and staring as yours bore into them, searching for something you’re nearly touching until you gasp, “bucky?” you choke, reaching for him when he nods, his legs already trying to reach you as fast as they possibly can but they buckle. bucky realizes just then how old he must be now. “oh, baby,” you murmur, gathering him up in your arms before he can fall to the hard ground of the lab. “what the hell did you idiots do to my boyfriend?” you demand, turning to the two scientists who are going over tony’s notes.

bruce glances at tony, tilting his head at him as if to say him. you roll your eyes, not having any more information than when you asked, “tony?” you growl, walking over to the man, not missing the way little bucky’s hand grabs onto your shirt.

“it didn’t- that wasn’t supposed to happen,” tony defends weakly, a lazy shrug pulling at his shoulders. your eyes flash with velvet red, and, without moving a finger, tony’s pulled in front of you, wrapped in red swirls bucky can’t help but gawk at.

“fix it.” you order. tony nods, pursing his lips, “we’ll do that.” bruce looks a little taken aback, looking up from tony’s scribbles and equations. “i don’t think it’ll last more than a day,” he offers helpfully, “whatever it was tony was trying to do wasn’t either.”

bucky’s eyes start to droop, which he assumes is an effect of the sleepless night he just had on his infant body, something that usually wouldn’t affect him in his one-hundred-and-six-year-old self. he hums when he realizes the irony, leaning his head against the welcoming crook of your neck and catching your attention. you turn to him for a moment, softening a little before turning back to tony and glaring at him, “fix it.”

-

steve catches you when you walk out of the lab, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head when he spots the toddler in your arms, “holy shit, that looks exactly like bucky,” he breathes, scanning the dark mussed-up hair and stepping back when bucky opens his eyes. from next to him, sam looks from bucky to you, “did you two have a kid and not tell anyone, because this-”

“is bucky. that’s bucky.” you interrupt, looking at the toddler, “tony messed up with something and… this happened, i don’t completely… bucky’s a baby.”

steve raises an eyebrow, squinting at his best friend, “ha,” he laughs, “wow, he looks exactly like his pictures. he must be about three years old.” bucky blinks at him. “his ma said he was chatting up a storm at that age, though,” steve informs, looking back up at you. sam grins, “has he said anything? i kinda want to hear if he still sounds old.” bucky frowns at him, his pout deepening when sam bursts into laughter, “his grumpy face is the same!”

you look at your boyfriend, tilting your head and smiling a little when you realize he’s right, “you’re cute,” you coo now that you get a good look at him, “you’re so cute,” you murmur, poking his nose with your finger. bucky can’t help the blush that comes to his cheeks. but he slaps away sam’s fingers, scowling at him, “no.” he argues, “no.”

sam frowns, “no old man voice.”

“i hate you,” bucky says to sam, and you laugh, “i think we should leave for now. i need to figure out what will make three-year-old bucky not as grumpy.” sam looks at bucky’s furrowed brows and the same two little lines between them, his eyes flickering back up to yours, “i think that may just be a bucky thing.”

-

you bring bucky to the living room, sitting him down at the edge of the couch and crouching in front of him, watching him and his little crossed arms, bottom lip jutted out against his own will. bucky isn’t used to the emotional control of a child who’s three and can’t control the frustration that’s coursing through him at the moment. the only thing he knows for sure is that he doesn’t want you to leave him again.

“bucky?” you start, looking deep into the wide blue eyes that let you know it is bucky you’re speaking to. “what do you want to do? are you hungry? d’you want to sleep?” bucky shakes his head stubbornly at you, “i want tony to fix this.”

you sigh, “i know, baby. i do too, but until he finds a cure to this, you’re gonna stay small for a couple more hours.” he pouts at that, and you smooth your thumb over his cheek, “no pouting. we can do whatever you want, buck.”

just as he’s about to reject any idea you have, his stomach rumbles loudly, directing your attention to the arms that guiltily cover up his middle. “bucky... did you eat breakfast today?” you query, a lecturing tone sneaking into your words. “sam ate my cereal,” bucky grumbles, crossing his arms.

“bucky!” you exclaim, standing up to turn to the kitchen, “that’s no excuse. i told you you needed to eat--” you’re barely three steps into the kitchen when you hear the pattering of his feet towards you, grubby hands pawing at your legs.

“don’t leave,” he whines, hugging your ankles and sitting down on the floor, “you left all morning,” he mumbles, smushing his cheeks against your calf.

“i’m sorry,” you apologize, bending over to brush away the hair that falls over his eyes. “c’mere,” you murmur, reaching down to pick him up again and bounce him on your hip while you head to the kitchen. “what do you want to eat?” bucky thinks about it for a minute, before smiling, “i want pizza and ice cream.” you frown at him, “i don’t think three-year-olds can eat that. actually, i don’t think anyone should.”

after consulting google on what three-year-olds should eat, you have bucky’s head resting on your shoulder, refusing to let you put him down even as you made him the mac and cheese he had agreed to, still a little upset over the fact you wouldn’t let him eat all the other things he wanted. the only time he let you not carry him was when he was eating, still insisting you sit right next to him to watch as he smeared cheese all over tony’s expensive table.

“okay,” you whisper breathlessly after watching him eat his third bowl of the meal, “i think that’s good.” you shove the dirty dishes in the sink, washing bucky’s hands and wiping at him cheeks with a warm cloth to get the mess he managed to create off. “did you forget how to eat?” you wonder aloud when you finally fnish cleaning him up, watching his small shoulders shrug.

“what do you want to do now? anything you want,” you propose.

“i want you,” he says, reaching his stubby arms out, “cuddles. ‘m sleepy,” he yawns, making grabby hands at you when you take too long to pick him up. “bucky,” you chuckle, complying with him and bringing him into your chest, where he leans his head on your shoulder. “you sure you don’t want to play or something? you don’t want to…” you trail off, trying to think of what three-year-olds do, “walk or read or something?”

bucky grunts in your ear, his eyelids already closing again, “cuddles,” he repeats, balling your shirt up in his little hands.

“okay,” you sigh, bouncing him gently while you walk to your shared bedroom. you pick up a stuffed animal you brought for bucky from one of your most recent missions, “did you sleep last night? is that why you’re so tired?” bucky hums, cuddling further into your chest when you lay down with him on top of you. you hand him the little dog plush, pressing a kiss to his head when he takes the gift, hugging it with you. “honey, i’m sorry,” you frown, gently threading your fingers through his short hair, humming the same song bucky sings to you when you can’t get to sleep. it doesn’t take long to lull him into the calmness of rest.

you only wake up when the weight on you is suddenly multiplied, completely taking your breath away, “bucky!-” you exclaim, rolling from underneath him to meet his closed eyes. you shake your head with a light laugh, drawing a strand of hair behind his ear before you press your lips to his cheeks, snuggling in with him again, “sweet dreams, darling,” you murmur, placing the stuffed animal he dropped on your dresser.

[itsybitchylittlewitchy]

A Broken Legacy

A/N: Okay, so as some of you may know. I've always been a massive fan of the batman Arkham series, and the animated tv show, pretty much just the whole Batman universe. So after replaying Arkham Knight for the 5th time and reading all of @batarella series on The Commander ( which is amazing and better than any ramblings I could come up with so please check out their stories!)

I decided to create my own Arkham Knight story, which will be a slow burn, but we all know I'm a slut for smut so you bet your ass there will be smut coming up in this bad boy!

So without anymore pointless rambling from me I present you the main rambles!

Please let me know if you liked this and want some more! because I have a lot planned for this story!

Words: 1052

Warnings: WILL BE NSFW SO DONT GET INVESTED IF YOUR UNDER 18, mentions of threatening and violence. I guess also language, if you don't like swearing then Yikes, leave my page immediately

This was the beginning of it all.  His revenge.  Batman would pay for every second of pain he had to endure during his life.  As he looked in the mirror, taking in the sight of himself in his armour.  His red, black, and white camouflage armour, complete with the Arkham logo emblazoned on his armoured chest.  He reached over to the table next to him, grabbing the cold metallic cowl, placing it on his head covering his sweating face, his dark hair already sticking to his face in the early morning heat.  He pressed the button on the side of his cowl as it began to glow with a blue neon light.  His thoughts where interrupted by the loud banging on the wooden door to his private room. 

“Sir! The squadrons are arriving, your needed on the training grounds for the final appraisals”

“About fucking time”

 the Arkham Knight said, holstering his dual pistols and heading to the door.

Lucy was nervous.  She knew the plan inside out, as second in command she had to.  But this was the part that always made her nervous.  She had done her part, and now the rest of the plan hinged on the abilities of others.  Of course, Lucy had heard of Slade Wilson, otherwise known as Deathstroke but this other guy was new, and Lucy didn’t like to rely on people she didn’t know. 

“Is the modified toxin ready for production?”

“Yes Mr Crane, all supplies have been successfully imported into Gotham over the past year.  There is one more delivery scheduled for the Nimbus cells for all militia vehicles, however Mr Stagg has been dragging his feet and provided no further updates on the status of the Cloudburst.” 

He stood with his back to her, letting out an audible sigh. The ragged cloth of his mask draping down his body making him look like some creepy-ass hobo grim reaper.  He was a dangerous man, arguably thee most dangerous man in Gotham.  Lucy hadn’t had much of a choice when he approached her outside the Stagg enterprises lab she used to work at.  At first, she did refuse.  No amount of money was going to motivate her to get messed up with a monster like him.  However, when he arrived in the middle of the night, with three armed thugs and his hideous syringe hands around her adoptive mother’s neck, threatening to inject her with his fear toxin, she knew she had no choice.  After everything Selina had done for her, taking her in as a child, after she got caught stealing food to survive, paying for her to complete her doctorate and treating her like her true daughter.  She knew she couldn’t risk Crane harming her.  Lucy had to get this job done, get paid and get the hell out of Gotham with Selina for good. 

“Perhaps we may need the Knight to pay Mr Stagg a visit.  Arrange a meeting, we can discuss the plans before the final appraisals, it’s time you meet who you’ll be working with in Gotham my dear.”

Crane said, his head over Lucy’s shoulder, his hideous syringe hands barely scraping at her shoulders.  She suppressed a shiver and fought against all her instincts to run from the room there and then.  She had to admit, he was one creepy bastard.  Crane gestured towards the door, allowing Lucy to exit the room first, before following her closely behind.  The air was dry and hot.  She was surrounded by militia in full armour and for the first time felt grateful to be stuck wearing a Lab coat, red silk blouse and a tight black pencil skirt in this heat, the other militia men must be drenched with sweat she idly thought approaching the bottom of the stairs.  Crane moved to walk beside Lucy, she could feel the cold scrapes of his needle hand grazing the small of her back and he ushered her forward. 

“Ah, Mr Wilson.  I trust the men are ready and prepared for battle?”

Crane asked Deathstroke before turning his attention towards the Knight. 

“I wasn’t aware you were bringing dates around my barracks now Scarecrow”

the Knight’s modulated voice teased cruelly as he looked over the woman in front of him.   Something about her was so familiar, her bright blue eyes and golden hair seemed somewhat familiar, like a dream that he couldn’t quite remember. 

“Not at all Knight.  This is Dr Lucy Quinzel formerly head of biological warfare at Stagg enterprises.  She’ll be my second in command for all matters regarding the cloud burst and the creation of my toxin.  She’ll be coming with you to Gotham.  I need you both to pay a visit to help motivate her former employer with completing his task for us.”

Crane drawled.  While propelling Lucy forward towards the Knight and Deathstroke.

“Nice to meet you”

 Lucy politely smiled, taking a step towards the Arkham Knight, holding out her hand for him to shake.  He stood frozen.  Not extending his hand.  Not saying anything.  Just staring blankly ahead. 

“A pleasure to meet you doctor” Deathstroke purred as he moved forward knocking the Knight to the side and kissing Lucy’s extended hand, making her blush slightly. 

“Enough formalities.  Dr Quinzel, accompany the Knight to the meeting room.  I need you to provide as much information on Mr Stagg and his operations as possible.” Crane commanded before turning back to Deathstroke and to the militia men.

Lucy stood there, looking at this Arkham Knight.  So far, he hadn’t so much as said a word, or even acknowledged her existence for that matter.  He was an imposing man, well built, taller than her.  She figured he was going overboard on the strong silent routine. She rolled her eyes and turned on her heels to head back up the stairs towards the meeting room when she stopped and looked back over her shoulder at him.  He still hadn’t moved. 

“Are you coming? or do I need to launch something at that flashy helmet of yours to get your attention?” she teased while taking off her pen cap and throwing it to hit off the Arkham Knights visor with a tiny amusing clink.  She supressed her laughter as he snapped out of it and barged past her storming up to the meeting room.   

[dragonydreams]

Fic: Just Like a Dream (Buck/Eddie) Teen

Title: Just Like a Dream Fandom: 9-1-1 Rating: Teen Pairings/Characters: Eddie Diaz/Evan "Buck" Buckley; Eddie Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley, Maddie Buckley, Hen Wilson, Howie "Chimney" Han, Josh Russo, Sue Blevans, Christopher Diaz, Isabel Diaz, Jee-Yun Buckley Han Summary: Eddie moves into a sublet apartment and meets a ghost that is more than he appears to be. Just Like Heaven AU Word Count: 13,739 Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over these characters. I am merely borrowing them from Reamworks, Brad Falchuk Teley-Vision, Ryan Murphy Television, and 20th Century Fox Television. Betas: Thank you to @medieshanachie for looking this over for me. Author's Note: I watched the movie Just Like Heaven (starring Reese Witherspoon and Mark Ruffalo) a couple of months ago and immediately knew that it had to be a Buddie AU. Most of the dialog is from the movie transcripts. 

I don't know what's going on with the @buddieau Fic Fest, but today is my posting day so I'm posting this.

Buck sat down on the couch in the fire station loft and closed his eyes for just a minute. In his mind, he pictured a beautiful garden with winding stone paths. He could feel the stress of the last call falling away. 

A hand on his shoulder shook him awake. He blinked up at Hen.

"Shift's over," she told him quietly. "Don't you have that big date to get ready for?"

Buck groaned as he stood. "Don't remind me." 

"Going on a double date with your sister isn't the end of the world," Hen said.

"A blind double date. At her house," Buck clarified. "I don't know anything about this guy that she's setting me up with aside from the fact that her husband knows the guy through an old friend."

"Excuse me, that's my best friend you're talking about. And I happen to think he has excellent taste in people," Hen chided.

"Yeah, I know," Buck sighed. "I'm just tired after this shift. I'd much rather go home, curl up on my couch, and Netflix than go be Mr. Personality tonight."

"I hear ya, but go and make your sister happy so she can stop complaining that you never go on dates anymore. At least not since Ab–"

Buck cut her off. "When you put it that way…" he trailed off, laughing bitterly. 

He showered quickly then dressed in jeans and the blue button down shirt that Maddie said matched his eyes. Finally, he pulled on a navy blue sport coat before fastening his watch. 

It started raining as soon as he pulled away from the station. Great, as if he wasn't already running late from the long shift and having to get ready.

"Hey, Maddie, it's me," Buck said, calling her when he got to a red light. "Hey. I'm sorry I'm late. I know. I'm on my way."

"Don't worry. Your date's late, too."

"I'll be there in a minute. Bye."

He hung up the phone and turned up the music. As he re-focused on the road, he saw that a truck was heading straight towards him. All he could do was brace for impact.

Continue reading on AO3

[nothinghcppens]

bad liar - pietro maximoff

masterlist

pair: pietro maximoff x female!reader

summary: y/n is the new addition to the avengers, she was introduced to tony stark by nick fury who had heard of her special abilities after she was seen saving a building of people from an attack. when she gets introduced to the team she is taken in immediately, but others seem to not be as keen to get to know her.

warnings: swearing, mentions of trauma

“right, y/n.” tony stark said to you as he led you up the stairs of the avengers tower, “there’s going to be a lot of people here, it might be overwhelming. try not to freak out.”

“i promise you i’ll be fine, it’s them i’m worried about. have you told them what’s wrong with me?” you replied, following behind him. he stopped outside a large foggy glass door.

“there’s nothing wrong with you. these guys are the freaks.” he joked with a slight grin. you rolled your eyes and shook your head. the bearded man, who you had already began to enjoy the company of, placed his hand on your shoulder. “come on kid, let’s make a good first impression.” he pushed open the door and walked in, you stepping in behind him.

the room went silent as the large group of people looked at you. they were sat on the two sofas, a few on the floor. you immediately recognised a few of them, steve rogers and natasha romanoff stood out amongst the crowd, you saw them on the news all the time.

“okay losers, meet y/n y/l/n. she’s our new recruit.” he announced as he clapped his hands together. they all stood up and approached you, you’re eyes widening. you’re eyes scanned the group, now seeing clint barton and sam wilson. standing at the back of the group were a brunette girl and a blonde boy and floating slightly to the left was a red man with a mysterious glowing gem in his head.

“you probably already know steve, natasha, clint and sam.” tony said, gesturing towards them.

“yep, you’re pretty famous round these parts.” you explained, causing laughter from each of them.

“nice to meet you, y/n.” steve greeted, putting out his hand for you to shake.

you glanced at tony before taking his hand and shaking it lightly. “very... formal.” you noted with a grin.

“he’s very traditional.” tony commented, his smile copying yours.

“who’s the red dude?” you asked. the group let out a collective chuckle.

“vision, but the red dude works too.” he said, lowering himself to the ground.

“at the back we have the twins. come on you two, introduce yourselves.” tony called. the two pushed their way to the front, the girl with a smile on her face.

“i’m wanda, very excited to be working with you.” she said. you smiled and looked to the scowling boy next to wanda.

“pietro.” he stated. he was wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a tight fitting t-shirt that accentuated his arms and chest. he was very attractive.

“well, can’t please everyone.” you commented, noting his cold demeanour.

they all eventually made their way to the couches again, everyone wanting to get to know you. tony had gave you a coffee and you sat on the carpet with your back against the sofa. wanda and nat joined you on the floor and the rest sat on the leather sofas.

“so, y/n.” nat started, glancing around at the team. “what’s your special talent?”

“i thought you told them?!” you exclaimed at tony.

“i didn’t say that!” he replied, chuckling. you groaned and stood up, ready to showcase your “special talent”.

“i need a volunteer.” you announced with a smirk, “or multiple.” confused looks were shared between the team. “fine. i’ll choose. wanda, steve and mr grumpy over there.” you said, pointing at pietro. he seemed to clearly not like you, so why not annoy him a little.

the three of them stood up and you led them to a clear space in the room. “who wants to go first?” you asked. tony leant back on the char as steve stepped forward, ready for the show. “go on then captain, give me your best shot.” you teased, throwing your arms up in a fighting stance.

a smile grew on his face and he went to throw a punch with his ‘super solider strength’ but you caught his arm and spun him around, pulling his arm behind him. you felt his strength flow through you as you ‘copied’ his powers. your knee flew up and hit his back, causing him to grunt and fall to the floor.

“okay so what? you can fight, there’s plenty of people like that here.” pietro commented with a scoff. his sokovian accent was thick but his english was fantastic.

“fine then, speedy. your turn.” you stated and steve stood up and laughed. “sorry captain, someone had to go first.” he retreated back to the group, taking his seat again. you took a step to the side, now standing in front of pietro who was glaring you down. you beckoned him with your hands and he cracked his neck before starting in a run towards you. you focused your mind on him and you mimicked his powers, running away at his pace. you ended up behind him and he stopped, confused. he turned around and you saw his eyebrows furrow. he ran towards you again but you sped towards him and grabbed his wrist from behind him, preventing him from moving any further.

“what the fuck?” he cursed, looking at you with anger in his eyes.

“aw what? mad that you aren’t the only fast one anymore?” you taunted, a dramatic pout on your face. he scoffed and ripped his hand from your grip, stomping back to the team. “i don’t think he likes me very much.” you could see tony’s amused face from where he sat, he sent you a wink and you turned to face wanda who was buzzing with excitement.

“is he always like that?” you asked, gesturing towards the blonde boy.

“only when he feels intimidated.” she replied, her accent similar to her brother’s.

“you ready?” you questioned.

“always.” she said, her hands glowing red.

you concentrated on her, absorbing her abilities. your hands began to glow the same red as hers and you flicked your hand towards her, lifting her from the floor. she retaliated by thrusting her hand at you, causing you to be thrown against the wall. you pushed yourself up and tossed her across the room where she landed at the team.

“ta-dah!” you said with a dramatic curtsy.

“copying people’s abilities. i like you kid.” sam announced, standing up and helping wanda get to her feet. he walked over to you and clapped his hand on your shoulder, “i think this calls for a celebration. after y/n gets settled in, let’s crack open the drinks!” everyone cheered in agreement.

“we’ll take you to your room.” nat explained with wanda at her side. you were shown to your room where all your belongings had been brought up.

your two new friends helped you choose an outfit for the night and sat with you while you got ready.

“don’t you two need to get ready?” you asked as you applied a thin layer of lip gloss.

“we don’t need to rush, steve and pietro take longer than everyone combined to get ready.” nat replied with a laugh.

———

the bar area of the tower was lit dimly and was filled with people you had never seen before along with your new team members. music played softly over the chatter of people around the room. you were wearing a black slip dress and heels, getting dressed up wasn’t something you got to do enough. you spot steve, sam and pietro at the bar, fixing your dress you made your way over to them.

“good evening boys.” you greeted, sliding in beside steve. he was wearing a blue button up shirt, sam a white shirt and black suit jacket and pietro was wearing a black shirt a few buttons undone, tucked into black trousers. his platinum blonde hair and bright blue eyes stood out against his dark attire. if he wasn’t such a moody brat, you’d maybe appreciate how attractive he was.

“hello, y/n.” sam said with a large smile.

“you look lovely, y/n.” steve complimented.

“thank you cap, shame you’re just a few hundred years too old for me.” you joked, placing your hand on his shoulder. the two let out a laugh and you looked at pietro, his eyes trained on you.

“hey grumpy, enjoying your night?” you asked with your eyebrows raised.

he rolled his eyes, “i was.”

you let out a gasp of shock, placing your hand on your chest. “i’m not entirely sure what i did to piss you off so much, pietro, but can’t you just reign it in for one night? i mean this is my night after all.”

he huffed in response. “is it because i embarrassed you earlier?” you taunted.

“no it’s because i don’t trust you.” he spat.

“ding ding ding! there it is!” you exclaimed. sam cleared his throat, signalling to steve that they should probably leave.

“we’ll go get you a drink kid, don’t go too hard on him.” he said, walking away. steve followed behind him.

“so, why don’t you trust me?” you questioned, leaning against the bar.

“i don’t trust many people.” he explained, taking a sip from his drink. he sat it on the bar before looking back at you.

“what about all them?” you asked, gesturing to the room. you took his glass in your hand and took a sip, seeing his looks of protest. “what? i don’t think they’re actually getting me a drink, they’re just not wanting to stand they’re awkwardly.”

“they saved my life.” he replied.

“so for you to trust me i need to save your life?” you said, turning to face him.

“yup.” he stated, popping the ‘p’. he took his glass back from your hand.

“oh come on.” you groaned, “there’s nothing else i can do? i mean we’re even matching outfits tonight! i think that means we are immediately friends.”

he looked between the two of you, his eyes glancing up and down your body. “he so we are.” he chuckled.

“see! you’re already warming up to me.” you teased, taking his glass again and gulping down the drink.

“you wish.” he replied. you scoffed and gave him the glass back.

“so, what’s sokovia like?” you asked, trying to get to know the mysterious man.

“well now, nonexistent. but from what i remember it was... home. i mean, i only got to experience it for a short amount of time before hydra took us.” he explained.

you sighed, “i heard about that. that sucks. well if it makes you feel any better after my parents found out about my abilities, they locked me up and stopped me from leaving so i couldn’t hurt anyone.”

“really?” he questioned.

“yup.” you replied, mocking the same way he answered earlier. “wow look at us, trauma-bonding. i’m telling you, warming up to me!” you said in a sing-song voice.

“oh shut up.” he laughed.

“is that a laugh i hear brother?” wanda called as she approached them, followed by other members of the team.

“wow kid, you really know how to get people to like you.” tony said.

“i can’t help it. i’m just so charming.” you replied.

the team stayed with you for a long time, everyone talking and laughing. an hour or so passed and everyone had made their way to the couches they found themselves on not long ago. this time you were sat on the couch instead of the floor, the cool leather against your legs. you were sat in the middle of sam and pietro, enjoying watching the team tell stories of their battles. they eventually made their way to the topic of the battle of sokovia that they hid recently been through. you felt pietro tense next to you- he clearly didn’t enjoy hearing about his near-death experience.

“hey, do you want to get some fresh air?” you whispered into his ear. he nodded slightly and you stood up, reaching your hand out for him to grab. you helped him to his feet and announced that you were going to get drinks.

you led him out of the warm room and up to your room which was equipped with a balcony. you pushed open the glass doors and felt the cold, fresh air fill your lungs.

“much better.” you stated, leaning on the railing. “are you okay?” you asked, feeling pietro’s presence behind you.

“i am now. i’m just not ready to talk about it yet.” he explained, “thank you.” he muttered.

“what was that?” you queried, looking over your shoulder at him.

“nothing.” he replied.

“no. i heard a thank you!” you declared.

“nope. you did not!” he exclaimed, his eyes filled with mischief.

“you’re a bad liar.”

———

since the night of the party, you and pietro have been inseparable. you guys train together, eat meals together and you introduced him to all your favourite films. the rest of the team were sick of seeing you guys with each other. no one could get a minute alone with either of you.

“i can’t believe you hated me when i first arrived.” you said, throwing a piece of popcorn at his hair. you two had been watching the maze runner films, as per your request, and were midway through the scorch trials.

“seriously? it’s been 6 months and you’re still not letting that go?” he joked, throwing it back at you.

“nope. you hated me. just because i ran faster than you.” you bit, a sly grin growing on your face.

“you did not! how dare you y/n!” he growled.

“i did! but since you’re too proud to admit it, let’s try again.” you suggested. he raised his eyebrows.

“are you sure you want to test me, princessa?” he questioned, his nickname for you that had become a recent thing. you absolutely adored it when he spoke sokovian. you adored many things about him, his cheeky comebacks, his sarcastic humour, his laugh, his eyes, okay so a lot of things. you had been pushing down any possible feelings towards him, there was no way he felt the same for you.

“oh i do.” you replied, placing the bowl of popcorn on the table, pausing the film and standing up. he followed suit and walked closely behind you as you led him outside.

“what’re you two up to?” cap asked when you walked past him.

“proving to him that i’m faster.” you answered.

“my money’s on y/n!” clint shouted from the floor above.

“same!” chorused nat, sam and tony.

“wanda?” pietro asked.

“same!” she said, peering over the railing. you let out a large laugh as you saw his shocked expression.

you walked out to the courtyard, the sun beating down on your face. pietro stopped very close behind you, his breath hot on your neck.

“you ready?” he mumbled into your ear. his voice sent a shiver down your spine.

you cleared your throat, “yup.” taking a deep breath you turned around to face him. he was a lot closer than you thought. his blue eyes seemed even more beautiful in the sun. you took his wrist in your hand and felt power flow through you. there are many ways that you could copy people’s powers, most of the time when they are in front of you and are about to use their powers on you, you can just imitate their abilities. but you could also touch them and copy them that way.

“to the bench?” you asked, letting go of him.

“sounds good.” he replied, taking his place next to you,

steve and sam were stood at the door, watching intently at the interaction.

“count us down steve?” you called over your shoulder.

“3...2...” he began.

“you know piet,” you said, looking at him,.

“1!” steve shouted.

“you have really beautiful eyes.” you added as you broke into a fast sprint, blue light trails following behind you. you heard his startled gasp before he ran after you. your plan to distract him had clearly worked and you got a head start. you stopped at the bench and plopped yourself down, a second before pietro.

“you cheated!” he complained.

“no, i played smart.” you protested. you stood up to walk away for dramatic effect but pietro appeared in front of you with a gush of wind.

“no. you cheated.” he said, taking a step closer.

“i didn’t.” you replied, “steve! sure i didn’t cheat?”

“don’t bring me into this kid!” he called back, him and sam leaving you guys alone.

“see, even cap thinks you cheated.” pietro stated.

“i can’t help that you got distracted by my charm.” you teased.

he groaned and suddenly bent down and scooped you up, over his shoulder. “pietro maximoff put me down!” you squealed, hitting your hands off his back. he ignored your protests and ran around, whistling a faint tune.

“piet please!” you begged, laughter straining your voice. he stopped and threw you off his shoulder but before you landed on the ground you grabbed his t-shirt and pulled him down with you. you landed on the grass with a thud and a wheeze as he landed on top of you. he went limp and let all of his weight lie on you.

“get off me!” you shouted, laughing heavily.

“i’m quite comfortable actually.” he said. his voice was muffled from his head being nestled in the crook of your neck. his breath tickled your neck. you brought your hands up and placed them in his hair, tugging him up so he could look at you.

“piet i’m going to kill you. get. up.” you growled. his signature smirk grew on his face, clearly trying to annoy you. your eyes fell to his lips but you blinked quickly and met his eyes. his smile grew even wider, he noticed your glance.

“looks like you’re going to have to kill me. i’m not moving.” he replied.

“god i hate you.” you sighed, rolling your eyes.

“no you don’t.” you said, pushing himself up on his arms so he was now hovering above you.

“yes i do.” you protested, folding your arms across your chest.

“i really don’t think you do.” he replied, lowering himself closer to you slightly.

you forced a frown on to your face and glared up at him, “fuck off.” you muttered.

he gasped, “fuck off? that’s not very nice.”

“you’re not very nice.” you retaliated.

“ouch.” he said, the smile still present on his face.

“can you get up now?” you asked.

“fine.” he replied, getting up and taking your hand. he pulled you up harshly and you crashed into his chest.

“you are pushing my limits today maximoff.” you said, pushing yourself free from his grip. but it’s never that easy with pietro, he grabbed your wrist. “what the fuck is wrong with-“

he stopped you from finishing your sentence by pulling you in and pressing his lips against yours. you immediately melted at his touch. his hands moved to your waist and yours moved round the back of his neck, into his hair. he pulled you closer, you felt his rough stubble brush against your face. you both pulled back, breathing deeply.

“still hate me?” he whispered.

“yup.” you breathed. you let out a laugh.

“now you’re the bad liar.” he said.

“tony! i’ll take that $20!” you heard sam shout. you both looked up to see him standing on a balcony.

“he made the first move? really?!” tony replied. he jogged out next to sam.

“proud of you speedy!” sam called.

“you better watch it bird man, i can be up there and you’ll be over the edge faster than you can blink!”

[thedamageofherdays]

This week's (16-08-2021 - 22-08-2021) reading log is here. This week's reading log is super duper long and filled with lots of good things (my apologies for the long post, I really could not find a good spot to do a read more). I discovered some new favourites and re-read some old favourites and while I had an intense week personally at least the fics I read were absolutely phenomenal. I do recommend checking out the warnings as some fics are a bit heavier/angstier and you might wanna be prepared. Most of these fics are Stucky but there are a couple of other ships in between.

If you are looking for more fun and/or good things make sure to check out the @marveldisabilitycelebration as well to see all the awesome art, fics, meta, etcetera people created! And while I am mentioning events I am a mod for let me also just quickly mention that sign-ups for the @stuckygiftexchange are still open until the end of the month <3

Favourites are marked with a 🌻 Fics that are only available to AO3 users are marked with a 🔒 and Tumblr fics are marked with a 🍀

🌻 The Bends by dreamsinthewitchouse @dreamsinthewitchouse [Danbeau, side Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

Memory is not a house you can just walk back into after finding the key you thought you’d lost. It’s a thing you wade into and out of, rewriting it as it rewrites you.

It’s not without its rewards, either - recovering a memory about Maria and Monica, about her life, feels better than socking a thousand bad guys in the face, better than all the photon blasts in the world.

Then again, realising there’s still memories she can’t access, even after all this time, feels like drowning in space.

Not the one out there - the one inside her.

🌻 Sweet & Salty by musette22 @musette22 [Stucky, 3k words, Teen]

Idiots in love. That's it. That's the fic.

When life gives you lemons by moonythejedi394 @moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 34k words, Explicit] (11/15 chapters)

Or 13 Terrible Things to Do With Lemons Other Than Making Lemonade

Steve Rogers is a home health nurse. He works for an agency, which assigned him to the aging Winifred Barnes, the one and only Silent Era Hollywood darling. As her needs increased, she requested the agency assign Steve to her full-time. She could pay for it, so she got it. Steve then moved in with her, becoming her caregiver; he cooked, he cleaned, he managed her medications, he made sure she was comfortable.

Winifred's children treated him less than ideally. He was the help, after all. And then Steve had the audacity to go and turn out to be eldest son James Barnes's soulmate. No one saw that coming.

🍀 SamRhodey Tumblr Fic by ipoiledi [SamRhodey, ? words, Teen?]

“Wilson, this is Rhodey; Rhodey, Wilson,” Tony Stark says, and suddenly some six foot tall sexy guy is shoved right in front of Sam, and they both stumble a little, bumping into each other. This is a crowded party. “You guys have things in common, right?” Stark asks. “Uh, Army stuff. Talk about that. I hate wallflowers; stop wallflowering and talk to each other.”

Shorteralls by moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 6k words, Explicit]

The first time Bucky ever saw Steve Rogers, he was struck by how Neanderthal-like his response was. It was immediately followed by a bout of mental scolding. The second time was just about the same. The third time, it was actually appropriate for Bucky to start a conversation with him, at which point he was determined to be the gentleman.

No such luck. Steve Rogers is, always has been and always will be, a relentless flirt. These days, Bucky's Neanderthal-ist feelings about Steve are consensual and highly appreciated. More so now that they're having a baby.

what the fuck are perfect places anyway by tigerlilycorinne [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

Steve clears his throat and stands. “Well, I should head in. I might want to begin packing.”

Bucky stills. “You won’t,” he says, trying to sound commanding. It only comes out uncertain. “Don’t.”

Steve shakes his head. “Maybe not tonight,” he says, and Bucky knows they’ll be discussing this again soon.

“Then stay. Play… play cards with me or something.”

Steve’s eyebrows jump up, his mouth tugging up in another of his bemused smiles that do things to Bucky’s insides, but he drops his hand from the doorway and steps back into Bucky’s room. Somehow, Bucky feels as if he’s won—not the war, just the battle.

Steve won’t stay forever. But he’ll stay for cards.

Steve and Bucky, on the run after Civil War (with a few alterations to canon), are laying low in Wakanda. But they can’t stay there forever.

🌻 honestly thought i’d be dead by now, but what you can trust is that i need your touch by moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 105k words, Explicit]

Bucky is 37 years old; he’s unmarried, hasn’t had a Sub of his own, is definitely not ripped, comfortable at his job as an Advanced Practice RN at Brooklyn General ER, and just got his Five Years coin from AA.

Steve is 26 years old; he’s unmarried, his last and only Dom has Alzheimer's, he's worryingly muscular, uncomfortable in his job as the government’s poster Alpha for masculinity and strength, and worries more than he should about his BMI.

Unfortunately, Steve and Bucky meet initially in a not-cute moment. Bucky’s tired as shit thanks to the sudden alien invasion that shook New York and Steve is tired as shit because he hasn’t slept more than 20 minutes at a time in – well, since 1936, probably. Bucky’s Alpha instincts get irritated at the sudden presence of another "Alpha" into his territory and Steve’s suppressed submissive tendencies latch onto this grumpy bachelor Alpha and he only suppresses it further.

Bucky’s grumpiness and Steve’s duckling impressionism aside, both of them are a mess. But since both of them are a mess? Their messes seem to fit pretty well together.

Deep Sea Diving by Aida Ronan [Stucky, 5k words, Explicit]

Steve's wallowing in heat-related misery under a shade tree in Central Park when a man walks by in bright red booty shorts and a crop top. RIP Steve Rogers. It was nice knowing you.

honey, make this easy by steebadore [Stucky, 8k words, Explicit]

Bucky likes the way he looks. His silk button up with the tiny gold polka dots feels soft on his skin and is tailored perfectly; no pulling at his chest or belly. His hair falls in shiny dark waves and his skin is smooth and dewy. He looks expensive. He looks taken care of. He looks like Steve’s.

🌻 let's take it back to the start by howdoyousleep @howdoyousleep3 [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

How it all began.

This sleepwalking through my life. by barthelme [Stucky, 1k words, Explicit]

The internet is an interesting place and when Bucky came home (or, when he came to live with Steve), Steve did a lot of research. Apparently, it’s not safe to wake a sleepwalker. He assumes that waking a sleepwalker with traumatic dreams and PTSD is beyond just being frowned upon.

And he tells himself--has told himself--that this is safer for Bucky. That if he were to stop him and wake him up, that Bucky would be mortified to be slurping on his best friend’s cock. That all of the improvements he’s made would be lost, would be repressed, would be just--

They’d be back at square one.

So he lets Bucky do it.

🌻 the way i've been craving by howdoyousleep [Stucky, 3k words, Explicit]

"Lunch break at 12:30. My office. Hope you’re hungry…"

It’s the ellipsis that sends Bucky’s insides swimming warmly, his heart beating twice as fast against his ribs where he sits in class. Senator Rogers is concise, direct, to the point. Without an ellipsis this is lunch, this is a meeting. With it though?

This is a booty call.

nasty but classy by howdoyousleep [Stucky, 4k words, Explicit]

“No, you don’t have to know the purpose, that doesn’t matter. Nat showed me this challenge where couples drink a lot of wine and get drunk together but they can’t touch each other. And whoever touches the other first has to...has to give the other head.”

🌻 Put It on Repeat, It Stays the Same by giselleslash [Stucky, 20k words, Explicit]

Steve and Bucky have a one night stand that turns into a friends with benefits situation. A weekend snowed in at Bucky’s apartment brings to light how much that really doesn’t suit either one of them.

Greetings to the New Brunette by victoria_p (musesfool) [Stucky, 10k words, General]

"You said he should have a hobby. That it would help."

"I meant, like, knitting or coin collecting. Motocross, if he was feeling antsy. A baby's not a hobby. It's lifetime commitment."

🌻 Rogers & Barnes: Partners by triedunture [Stucky, 10k words, Teen]

Steve and Bucky have to pose as a couple for a mission. Nat insists it really is the only option. She's checked.

The complication: unbeknownst to even Natasha, Steve and Bucky's friendship has been rocky ever since Bucky confessed his tender feelings and Steve left him out in the cold. Can asexual, completely-in-love-with-his-angry-best-friend Steve complete the mission and win Bucky's heart?

(The answer is yes. Yay!)

this will be our year (took a long time to come) by biblionerd07 [Stucky, 4k words, General]

Bucky's therapist is worried he's using Steve as a crutch and wants him to try going on outings without Steve. It wouldn't be terrible, honestly, if Bucky could just manage to open his mouth and say something to Steve.

I'll hold my breath by Little_Lottie (tfwatson) [Stucky, 8k words, Mature]

Sometimes Bucky’s hands flex in Steve's direction. Neither of them knows exactly why, but at least one of them has a hunch.

Bucky touches everything but Steve, even though Steve is all he really wants to touch.

Start from the Beginning by Mumble_Bee [Stucky, 13k words, Explicit]

What about a sex pollen fic where the pollen-ed one doesn’t remember getting hit in the face with a sex flower, and wakes up midway through the depollenating?

Or: the one where Steve wakes up on his back with a stranger buried balls-deep in his ass.

Match by emphasisonem [Stucky, 4k words, Mature]

The situation’s actually kind of funny from the right perspective, Bucky thinks as he reads the message for what feels like the hundredth time. He’s finally matched with a hot, funny guy. Tall and broad and clean cut. An absolutely breathtaking smile. Bucky’s walking wet dream. And he’s good. They haven’t messaged on the app, but Bucky already knows him.

He knows him because Steve Rogers is an art history professor at his university. His art history professor.

Best friends and married since childhood by StuckySituation [Stucky, 1k words, General]

Inspired by @/peterssquill's post in tumblr: "bucky and steve got married on the playground when they were like eight and though neither of them would ever admit it to anyone, even each other, they still consider it official"

~♥~ ♥~ ♥~

“Natasha, stop trying to set me up with every woman you meet, I’m-”

“Too shy? Too scared?”

“No, I’m-”

“Too busy? You’re mostly retired these days, not a good excuse anymore.” Natasha smirks and then drawls: “Or just too gay?”

Steve flushes at that, even if isn’t true -- he’s bisexual, not gay. “Let it go, Nat, I’m not looking for anything. I’m already married, for fuck’s sake.”

Clearly not what she expected. “What.”

Steve grimaces. He didn’t mean to tell anyone that, ever.

“Sorry, can’t talk about it right now!” he says and jumps out of the plane.

Nobody Should Be Alone on a Holiday by emphasisonem [Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

“So, um-” Bucky begins speaking again, pulling Steve from his less-than-work-appropriate thoughts. The brunet has shoved his hands into the pockets of his dark slacks, and he’s shifting from one foot to the other as he smiles shyly. “I have a question for you.”

“Shoot,” Steve grins, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his broad chest. Bucky swallows deeply as one of his hands comes up to pull at the collar of his button-up, and Steve can’t help following the motion of his Adam’s apple.

“I was, uh-” Bucky continues- “That is, I heard you don’t have Thanksgiving plans?”

In which Bucky finds out that Steve's going to be alone on Thanksgiving and invites his coworker to spend the holiday with him.

🌻 It's Been A Long Season Through by thiccbuckybarnes @thiccbuckybarnesfic [Stucky, 49k words, Explicit]

Bucky Barnes is in desperate need of a change in scenery, which is why he makes the foolhardy decision to quit his job, leave his asshole of a fiance, pack up his life, and move to his grandfather’s old farm all within a single day.

He expects confusion, hardship, and maybe even failure. But love? He wasn’t expecting that.

--

Or, a Stucky Stardew Valley AU that nobody but me wanted and that’s ok.

oh, peach pit, where'd the hours go? by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 10k words, Explicit]

Can't see the forest for the trees.

--

Or, Steve learns that just because he and Bucky got their happily ever after, it doesn’t mean the past won’t come back to bite them.

I'll find my way by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 725 words, Teen]

Steve had watched Bucky fall, and nothing had been the same since.

AU-gust day 19: Daemons

special delivery by glim @glim [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

It's not that Steve's bad at taking care of himself when he gets sick; he just wishes he didn't have to all the time.

At least he can order most of what he needs online. That's some small comfort, that he can have soup and ice cream and everything else brought to his door.

at first chance i'd take the bed warmed by the body by spacebuck @spacebuck [Stucky, 8k words, Explicit]

This close, Steve can see exactly how beautiful his hands are. He’s never really noticed before, or at least he’s never really had a reason to notice, but the man’s hands are large, tanned like he works outside all day. There’s an endearing callus on the heel of one of his palms, and Steve can’t quite work out when calluses became endearing.

Steve pauses the video. Swallows hard. Casts his eyes around for anything that’ll keep his mind off the hands on his screen, off the words inked into those hands, the delicate shape of a bird’s wing, the curling edge of a vine.

He looks down. The name of the channel is right there, blaring the man’s name right into Steve’s brain until it feels like he’s known it all along.

Bucky Barnes.

OR: the one where Bucky's a youtuber who solves puzzles on camera, and steve's smitten and horny

🌻 Rock On! by millesable @marvelousescapism [Clintasha, 700 words, General]

“Hey, Romanoff!”

He lifted his hand, index finger and pinky finger raised, thumb out, all other fingers tucked. Their secret sign; their confession for the world to see, safe in the knowledge that the world wasn’t listening.

“Rock on!”

🌻 You Like the Way I Look by dontcallmebree @iamthe-wo-manwhocan [Stucky, 2k words, Explicit]

Bucky sidles up to him, hand boldly coming to rest on his chest. “What about you, big guy? Care for a dance?” Steve watches Bucky’s eyes twinkle with satisfaction, somehow already knowing he’s got Steve on the hook.

A decade out of the ice, Steve Rogers returns to New York. Reeling from a battle against the Chitauri, a night with the troublesome Bucky Barnes might be just what he needs.

Join the Rebellion by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 765 words, Teen]

Bucky knew he shouldn't be out after curfew, but he couldn't resist the urge. He didn’t know where he was going, but he knew it was where he wanted to be.

AU-gust day 20: Dystopia

🔒 Five Days in December by mywingsareonwheels @mywingsareonwheels [Evanstan, 4k words, Teen]

“Shit shit shit shit...” muttered Chris to himself, glad that the sound of piped Christmas carols was drowning out his swearing amid the picture books. Most of the store was heaving even though it was Sunday, he’d been recognised at least three times, finding presents for all of his nieces and nephews was proving far more of a headache than expected, and he’d just sent a pile of copies of "Strictly No Elephants" tumbling off the bookshelf.

He scrambled about trying to pick them all up, and then dropped them again as someone bumped right into his backside. He lost his balance, caught himself against a bookcase, and a landslide of "Carter Is a Painter’s Cat" joined "Strictly No Elephants" on the floor. He yelped.

“Ah fuck, I’m so sorry… Chris!”

* * * * * * * * * *

London, December 2021. Amid cats, books, and the cold English drizzle, Chris finds everything he was hoping for and thought he would never have.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Reaching for Fire by dixons_mama @dixons-mama [Stucky, 7k words, Explicit]

Bucky has always felt a fire in his heart (and other body parts) when it came to his boss, Steve Rogers, but he's made sure to never feed those flames. When he finds out about Steve's second job, though, he's tempted to let that fire out.

i've been dreaming of a face like yours by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 3k words, Explicit]

Bucky is about to busy himself with making a small dinner for himself when he stops in his tracks at the figure drinking a cup of coffee in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and smirking at him.

It’s Steve.

“Surprise, sweet boy,” he says before setting his cup down.

--

Or, PWP reunion sex

🌻 Somewhere, Under Your Skin by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 16k words, Explicit]

Bucky Barnes treats himself to a one-night stand after having a very bad no good day.

The sex is good--great, even. Might be the best sex of his life.

But Bucky wouldn’t have slept with the guy if he had known that he was going to continuously run into him every day for the next fucking month.

--

Or, a Big Grump Bucky has a hot one night stand with a college kid who is popping up everywhere in his everyday life and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

(Written for HYBB Bingo Square: Grumpy Bucky)

i've played heartstrings before but not in your key by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 11k words, Explicit]

He glances down, seeing a folded couple of papers, before peering up at Bucky. The older man is biting his bottom lip, making it pretty and red. Steve wants to run his tongue across where his teeth are digging into his flesh.

"What's this?" Steve asks, setting his phone down, emails forgotten. Bucky shrugs and looks away.

"I dunno. You tell me, genius," he says, sounding bratty enough that it makes Steve's dick twitch in his pants. Jesus, there has to be something wrong with him.

Steve glances once more at Bucky, who now has his arms crossed against his chest and is pointedly not looking at Steve, before picking up the stack of folded papers. He opens them, seeing a collection of maybe five or six sheets of paper. His eyes immediately land on the list of familiar words with negative next to each one. -- Or, Steve Rogers is a jealous, possessive little shit that wants nothing more than to mark up his boyfriend and stake his claim. And Bucky knows it. (And he likes it.)

🌻 I'm Home (With You) by BonkyBornes @padfoot-and-the-marauders [Stucky, 2k words, General]

In any other circumstance, the apartment would've been perfect. But it was today, and the fact that he was here meant he wasn’t out searching. He knew they hadn’t had any leads for weeks and he knew Natasha was right; all three of them were exhausted and a break would do them good. It just felt wrong to Steve that he was comfortable while Bucky was still out there—somewhere. Probably cold. Probably hungry.

The knock came again. Sighing, Steve unwrapped his hand from the dog tags and remembered how to move. Cold wind and snow greeted him when he opened the door. The solitary figure was walking down the steps, collar popped against the chill.

“Did you need something?” he called.

The person stopped. They were still. And then they turned. *

Or, the Christmas Steve deserved after Winter Soldier.

The portrait by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 915 words, General]

Steve Rogers has a Gift. He can help people find their soulmates, all he needs is some art supplies, a quiet place, and eye contact.

AU-gust day 21: soulmates

Maybe A Muse by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 2k words, Mature]

When Bucky Barnes needs extra money, he’s appalled that his best friends think he should become a model for the art department on campus. Shy, nerdy, and socially awkward, he’s not sure that’s something he feels comfortable doing. Still, he needs money, and he likes the idea of becoming someone’s muse. The problem is he had no idea two things would happen. First, one of the students in the class is exactly his type; second, he has to model nude.

[bottlesandcats]

renegade 👀

Now this one is my secret favorite of the bunch. I came up with this awhile ago after I realized Sam's look in Endgame gives me major 70s detective vibes.

It's a Sambucky modern AU detective story. Sam is a New York City detective, who gets pulled back into a cold case of his, after a recent grisly murder. He turns to Bucky for help, who now is a professor of criminal psychology at NYU, but was formerly an undercover cop who has his own ties to the case.

Unfortunately I don't know jack about police work or major crimes units or forensics and bc of that it's going to take a ton of research, which is why I've been dragging my feet on it, but from what little I've written so far it's been really fun!

Title is from “Renegade” by Big Red Machine and Taylor Swift.

Thanks for the ask! Maybe this will get me motivated to work more on it now!

Sam Wilson knows it’s gonna be a shitty day as soon as his alarm goes off. There’s no particular reason, it’s just one of those feelings that you get when you open your eyes and think ‘Yup, today the Universe is gonna test me.’ His mama always used to say he’d gotten up on the wrong side of the bed when he’d come downstairs, all storm clouds and grumbling about having to go to school, snapping at his little sister. But now that he’s grown, Sam knows it’s not a matter of getting up on the wrong side of the bed but somehow gettin’ on the wrong side of the Universe. 

His suspicions are confirmed when he arrives at his favorite local coffee shop, The Harlem Hot Spot, and sees a hand-written sign: “No espresso today, only drip or cold brew. Sorry for the inconvenience - Mgmt.” With a heavy sigh he pushes the door open, the familiar overhead bell cheerfully jangling in a way that almost feels mocking. 

“Hey, Detective Wilson.” Charisse, who always works the morning shift when Sam comes in, waves from behind the counter. “Sorry, but no usual today.”

“Yeah, I saw the sign. What happened?” 

“Espresso machine is on the fritz.” She grimaces as she says it, like she’s waiting for him to snap at her for it. It’s probably her hundredth time explaining it today, and knowing New York morning commuters she’s probably been yelled at several times already. “We got drip or cold brew, if you want coffee.”

It’s absolutely a double-shot kind of day but that means he’ll need to go to the Starbucks next to the precinct where he’ll pay way too much for a shitty latte. 

“Again? Damn, y’all need to get a new machine,” he grumbles.

She snorts. “We take cash, Apple Pay or Amazon gift cards if you’re feeling generous. Maurice is coming by later to fix it.”

He gets a large coffee to go, along with a blueberry muffin. He’s been trying to cut back on his carbs but, fuck it, anything to help his shitty mood. He stuffs a couple singles into the tip jar, mixes some half and half into his cup and makes his way to the precinct by way of the (subway).

By the time Sam gets to the station, his coffee is already half gone, and he knows he’s going to need to find time to make midday coffee run. He makes his way through the chaos that happens every morning as the graveyard shift tries to wrap up their paperwork and gives the lowdown of the previous night’s events to the day shift. As he crosses the lobby, Sam sees Officer Joaquin Torres, catch his eye, file in hand, and immediately makes a dash for the elevator. The kid is nice enough, albeit a little eager, and wants to be a detective. He’s decided on Sam being his mentor even though Sam never agreed to any such thing.

“Sir, I’ve got something for you! Just came through processing!”

“No, Torres!” he calls over his shoulder. “I haven’t had enough caffeine yet for whatever the fuck you got in that file.” He jams the button to the third floor but Torres is faster and manages to squeeze in as the doors shut. 

“Well drink up sir, because you’re gonna wanna see this.”

“I told you a million times, man, don’t call me sir,” Sam sighs, rubbing his temples with a free hand.

He already feels a headache coming on, and the bad feeling he woke up with intensifies. The elevator dings as the doors open to the bullpen, the sound reverberating around his skull. He takes the folder with a heavy sigh and makes his way over to his desk, Torres hot on his heels. Something about the kid’s demeanor is off; it’s like he knows what Sam’s reaction is going to be before Sam does and he doesn’t like that. 

Setting his coffee and uneaten muffin down, Sam flips open the file and starts reading but only gets a few sentences before he feels the air leaving his lungs. He looks up at Torres, who’s staring at him anxiously.

“This was from this morning?”

“Found the body around 4 am, sir.”

Sam looks back down at the report: vic is a male, early thirties, body dumped in the Hudson, missing their left arm. 

“Jesus Christ, Torres. It’s fucking Riley.”

[duck-in-a-spaceship]

say it back: Chapter 4

Ayyy we made it to the end folks, and you know what that means: It's time to find out who wins our dumbass game of gay chicken. Place your bets now!

Summary: What if when House tells Wilson he loves him, Wilson says it back?

Well, naturally they turn to humor until “I love you”, “I love you too” becomes the most convoluted, gayest inside joke ever. And then of course they realize they mean it.

Word Count: 1607

Warnings: None

<<Previous

+++

Chapter 4: Off-Script

House runs into Wilson.

It’s not his fault. He simply wasn’t expecting his best friend to be lurking just around the corner like the world’s worst Halloween decoration. Yet Wilson’s there all the same, awkwardly steadying House so he doesn’t fall over, grabbing onto his arms before disaster strikes.

House stares at him, mentally recalibrating. His face is surprisingly close to Wilson’s, and the idea half-forms into his mind to say those words again. Just to fuck with him.

Instead he blinks, and swats Wilson’s hands away. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Shhhhh,” Wilson hisses, swatting the air like he can bat away House’s words. He cranes his neck to look around House, spying out for Cuddy, probably. Once her absence has been confirmed, he looks back down. “What am I doing?” he repeats incredulously. House notes that he hasn’t stopped whispering, stupidly enough. “What are you doing?”

“Didn’t you hear? I’m having sex with you!” House raises his voice, and Wilson gets halfway through shushing him again before he seems to realize that it’s a pointless endeavor. He’s right.

Instead, he runs a worried hand through his hair, doing a little spin before he faces House again. “That- that’s exactly what I’m talking about. Cuddy thinks we’re dating right now.”

House nods, eyebrows knitting together in mock concern. “Yeah, I’m sure I’m the one that gave her that impression. Not the guy that kissed me. Wait, maybe I have that backwards…” He starts to walk off as he talks, heading for his office, which was exactly what Wilson would be doing if he actually wanted privacy. Wilson immediately trails after him, seamlessly continuing their conversation.

“Alright, fine, but I didn’t- I wasn’t thinking.” A sideways glance over at Wilson reveals that he’s gone red again, as if the sudden stuttering wasn’t enough of a clue. He points an accusatory finger at House. “You, on the other hand, you’re always thinking. You have intent and agendas and manipulations.”

“Is your argument really that you accidentally kissed me? That’s the best you got?” Sometimes House wonders how he, who got his degree in Lying, Trickery and Deceit at Harvard, was friends with Wilson, who shared every secret he’d ever been told, very often including his own.

“That’s… not what I said.”

“So then you’re just arguing it’s my fault you kissed me.” House punches the button to the elevator with his thumb, leaning against the wall. “You know, Wilson, it’s important to take responsibility for your actions.”

Wilson sighs heavily. “I don’t want to hear it. You’re the one that started this when you started parading around in front of Cuddy.”

The doors to the elevator slide open, and they wait for its occupants to shuffle out before stepping in to fill the space.

“What do you care, anyway?” House asks once they’re in the elevator, doors safely shut in front of them. “Half the hospital thinks we’ve been doin’ it since we’ve both been here.”

“They- what?”

“Uh duh.” House makes a show of leaning in towards Wilson, punctuating his point. “Are you- and I have to ask this for medical reasons- fucking blind.”

Wilson huffs, refusing to meet House’s eyes and instead looking around the elevator, clearly frustrated. He doesn’t talk again until the doors slide open and they step out into the hall. House silently notices that Wilson doesn’t even make an attempt to turn towards his own office, not even subconsciously. He just follows House into the next set of doors.

“Well why don’t you care? Do you- do you want them to think we’re..?” He trails off, making a vague set of gestures that House knows he should be interpreting as dirty, but he honestly can’t figure out how.

“Fixing a car engine?” he guesses instead.

“No, not that. What? Y’know…” Wilson trails off again, before apparently summoning the courage for what he has to suggest. “Doin’ it.”

“Oh that. I thought that was a wrench and- Nevermind.” House waves a dismissive hand through the hair, smiling at his own pretend naivete. Then he shrugs. “I mean, maybe I do. You know, near death experiences really change people. Maybe I’m gay now.” He approaches his desk, but lingers off to the side instead of sitting down. It’s not like it’s his first time sitting at it since he almost died, but it would be the first with Wilson present. House decides to stand.

Wilson points at him, suddenly triumphant. “So you did see something!”

Oh goddamnit. House pinches two fingers together, holding them up in front of his face. “Little bit.”

“What?” Wilson presses immediately, leaving no room for hesitation. “What did you see, House?”

In a sweeping motion, House gestures across the entire room. “I saw this. Well, sort of. There was a different differential on the board, nice white void outside, you were-” His cane taps against the side of Wilson’s leg. “-a little more to the right.”

Wilson doesn't move. He looks up at House. “I was there?”

“I’m about to reveal the secrets of the afterlife to you, and you want to know about yourself?”

“Well sorry I don’t have more questions about the white void. What happened, House?”

House shrugs, as if it was a question hardly worth answering. “Exactly what you’d expect. You wanted to know what the hell was wrong with me, I hit you with my cane, you called me an idiot.” He half turns to his desk, smacking one hand against the back of the chair. “Then we made out, right here.”

Wilson chuckles, half turning away from him and shaking his head. “You know, if you’re just going to lie to me, we don’t have to do this.”

There’s not much to say to that. House raises an eyebrow.

Wilson falters, his eyes suddenly going wide. “Wait, really?” House nods. “You-? We? Right there?” Another nod. Wilson presses a hand against his forehead, reeling from the shock.

“And for the record, you kissed me.”

“Dream me kissed you,” Wilson corrects, but he sounds absentminded. He turns back to House. “I mean was it… was I…?” he trails off, once again waiting for House to finish his sentence, or simply infer his meaning and continue the conversation from there. House refuses. “What did you think?”

“Seven out of ten.”

“Seven?”

“Are you offended because that’s too high or too low? Because I’m just being honest, and honestly you were a little too-”

“Is that why you said it?” Wilson’s dropped his hand from his head, dropped the sudden shock. He’s just standing there, looking at House. When there’s no response, he takes a couple steps forwards, closing the gap between them. House has the urge to sit down. “After you woke up, when I was getting you more pain meds and you said- you said you loved me. Was that the meds or was that…?”

He trails off again, but this time House couldn’t finish his sentence, even if he tried. Was that because of the near death experience? Because he kissed Wilson, in some version, in some way? Because he really meant it?

“Yeah,” House says.

“I love you.”

House leans against the desk, points his cane at Wilson. “That’s my line.”

Wilson shrugs, breaks eye contact. “Maybe it’s time we go off script.”

There’s a lot he could say to that, too much, actually. Possibilities spiderweb off in House’s mind, overwhelmingly vast, overwhelmingly vital. There’s no audience, there’s no jokes, there’s no game, there’s no performance, there’s not even a script, not anymore. The curtains are closed, they’re sitting backstage.

There’s just Wilson, standing far too close and not close enough, hopelessly and hopefully genuine.

“I love you too.”

Wilson steps forwards again, enough that they’re standing toe-to-toe, that their faces could be pressed together if either of them had the willpower for it. Wilson stares at him with that sort of careful curiosity he so often possesses around House. It’s the look he always gives him when House comes barging into his office, utters the first insane words of a sentence, and Wilson has to figure out where he’s going to go next.

House had never realized it, but apparently it’s the look Wilson likes to give people before he kisses them, too.

The kiss is gentler than Fake Wilson’s had been, or at the very least more hesitant.

There’s a hand on House’s face again, holding him like it thinks one of them might break. His lips are soft, softer than the fake’s, softer than House had been able to imagine, apparently.

He reaches out and grabs Wilson’s waist, curling his fingers into one of his belt loops, pulling him close so he can deepen the kiss, can cast aside some of that gentleness.

Wilson gives in for just a moment, lets House pull him closer, presses harder against his lips, right before he pulls away entirely.

It’s over a moment too soon, this time House is certain.

And sure, he gets it. They’re in a room with walls made of glass, afterall, and just a couple of minutes ago Wilson had been getting antsy about a kiss on the cheek.

House is still mourning the fact that they’re both wearing clothes, but he gets it.

“We should go off script more often,” House suggests.

Wilson laughs, that small chuckle he loves to indulge in around House, the one where his head dips down a little and his eyes crinkle with humor. "Well, we never were very good at having a social contract."

Then he’s kissing House again, and, yeah, he could get used to this.

Point to Wilson.

[bluebellhairpin]

Little Helper

Sam Wilson X Tech!Reader

A/N: I’m back on the Marvel bandwagon. They can’t keep me away apparently. - Nemo

Warnings: Spoilers (TFATWS). Violence. Reader got blipped. 

Summary: Many know The Falcon. Less know his drone, Redwing. And even fewer know about Redwing’s other pilot, You. 

Listening to: ‘Trouble Man’ by Marvin Gaye - ‘I come up hard, but that's ok cause trouble man don't get in my way.’

Masterlist

You’d been working with Sam Wilson for a long time. 

A very long time. 

However most people would never have guessed it, considering you worked out of the spare room in your apartment, and Sam himself didn’t speak of you to anyone else. But the role you played was important. 

After all, Sam couldn’t always fight and control Redwing at the same time. 

More often than not, he had bigger fish to fry, and with his hands tied it was more out of convenience that you took over the reins of his little drone friend until he could take them back again. 

Even if no one else would know, it still felt nice to help out the Avengers every so often. 

So when you thought you fell asleep in the chair in your ‘work’ room - sleep was almost a foreign word to you anyway - and then woke up again, you were confused. 

You thought you were in the middle of helping in Wakanda, why would you have fallen asleep? 

But not only did the clock say 11 am - when last you checked it was 2 in the afternoon - but five years had passed too. You scrambled to fish your phone off your desk, and called Sam faster than you could say ‘Stark Industries’. You started speaking as soon as he picked up. 

“Sam! What’s happened -” you stopped yourself, “- What’s that noise?” 

“Could you,” he grunted, kicking something maybe? “Hop on Redwing please?” 

“Copy that.” You said, booting up your computer, frowning at the dust on it. You took a look around the room. There was dust on everything. 

You opened up the little application for Redwing, and pulled the joystick over, making sure it was plugged in, before grabbing your headset and putting it on too. 

“All set and ready to go. Waiting for your call Falcon.” 

“Give ‘em hell Redwing.” 

You pressed the release button on your keyboard, and Redwing’s camera immediately booted up, giving you a perfect view of a seeming ground zero. The land was leveled, and people were fighting everywhere. You recognized some faces - more like flashes of uniforms - Iron Man’s blasters, lightning off in the distance, a giant red and blue frisbee. 

“I’m guessing I go for -” you maneuvered Redwing out of a clawed hand’s grasp “- the alien-looking ones again.” 

“Yes, the alien-looking ones!” 

“Okay okay, sheesh.” you tutted, choosing the drone’s laser over it’s machine guns. “What’d you say about talking during fights anyways? That poor kid we fought in Germany will think you’re a hypocrite.”

It turned out to be a big fight. Not everyone won, not even those on your side. 

Six months later, Sam and yourself were still as strong of a team as ever, and still no one was any wiser about your involvement in working with him.

Just as well too, you had more than enough struggles of your own. 

Your apartment was one of the lucky ones, since apparently your landlord didn’t want to sort through your boxes of ‘kindling’ - files - and your ‘gizmos’ - machine parts - to get rid of it so he could rent the place to someone else. Not many wanted to rent in your building anyway, and he said he thought he ‘needed a memorial for those who disappeared’. 

So even if no one had emptied the fridge for five years, you still had your place. Unlike many other people. 

Your employers, however, no longer had a job for you. They were focusing on helping relocate the displaced, and apparently you couldn’t help with it. So even if you had your apartment now, you might not for much longer.  

At least you still had Sam. And his weird ‘not-friend’ friend Bucky. 

You’d heard about him, for sure, but only met once. That was the same time Sam told you to steal his phone number so you could keep in touch. Something about not knowing when an ex-assassin cyborg in your contact list would come in handy. 

There was something happening between those two, you couldn’t pick what, but it was akin to tension. And you picked up on that from just one meeting.

Sam had mentioned nothing about you and Redwing, only that you worked together. Apparently it was open for Bucky to interpret however he liked, but you were thankful that he made no connection to the drone. 

After his comment about Redwing’s lateness at the airport - with you at the helm - you weren’t too keen on him knowing anyway.

They’d broken Redwing. 

You were a little livid about it, all things considered. Your track-record thus-far had been great, but you’d just been bested by who? Some people stealing medicine? That looks a lot worse than if it happened while fighting Thanos. 

Just your luck. 

So when your intercom buzzed and Sam’s fuzzy voice came through into your kitchen you almost wanted to leave him downstairs. Then he started apologizing - on the sidewalk like it was some romcom - and said he had an old man with him that needed to start walking up the stairs as soon as possible so that he’d be able to make it back down by the time you kicked him out. So you buzzed him and his ‘old man’ in and waited for them in the hallway. 

Soon thereafter, voices started drifting up the stairwell. 

“I still don’t know what you’re apologizing for, it’s not like you cheated on them.”

“I told you, they’re not my -” Sam looked up at you as he turned into your hallway. Meeting your furrowed brow and crossed arms with a sheepish smile. “- Hey, (y/n). How’re you going?” 

You just pointed for him to go inside your apartment. When both him and Bucky were inside - what was Bucky doing here anyway? - you told him how you were going. 

“I’m really angry right now Sam. You can’t tell, but I am.” 

“I completely understand that.” he said, “I’m annoyed too, considering.” 

“Considering what Sam? That you got Redwing split in two?” 

“How do you know about Redwing?” Bucky frowned.

“How did I do that when you were the one piloting her huh?” 

“Me? This is not my fault!” you said, “You were supposed to be watching my six, just like I do for you!”

“That girl came at you head-on, I couldn’t have told you more about it if I painted her bright yellow and covered her in Christmas lights.” 

“You turned my coms off.” you hissed, tapping a pointed finger on his chest, “You said it’d be better since then Bucky wouldn’t know it wasn’t you piloting, and that even though I couldn’t hear anything I could still see plenty. Well I can’t exactly see that these people were super soldiers now, could I!”

“Oh. Right.” 

“You were piloting Redwing?” You looked over a Bucky, seeing him shake his head with his hands on his hips. “Makes sense, by all means, but now I have to not like you as much as before.”

“Nonsense, everyone loves me.” you smiled at him, and he quirked his lips up in an almost smile back at you. Then you turned back to Sam. “So is this all you came for?”

“Partially.”

“Partially?”

“Yeah,” he said, acting a little too coy for your liking, “We might need your help in the not-too-distant future.” 

“You always do that thing, you stay something to get me interested, and then you think if I’m interested I want to do it.”

You stared over at him, daring him to speak again. 

“You don’t wanna do things you're interested in?” 

“Depends what you’re trying to get me interested in.”

[blackstarising]

precipice, a buckysarah fic | also on ao3

bucky and sarah spend saturday mornings together on the wilson's back porch. neither remembers when this became a habit.

She’s awake for a few moments before she hears it, the creaking, through the open window. It’s not loud, of course, it’s never loud, Daddy had dutifully oiled the swing’s joints to make sure that wouldn’t happen, but age had touched it just enough that, nowadays, you’d know if someone was sitting there.

Sarah sits up, and rubs the sleep from her eyes. The thick, summer air fills her lungs, the same that coats her forehead in a sheen of sweat. Lingering tension from melts from her shoulders. Unconsciously, she brushes the dog tags nestled inside of her shirt.

He’s okay. Thank God.

A familiar electric buzz runs up the back of her spine as she pads past the boys’ rooms and tiptoes down the stairs. Months ago, that buzz would have prompted her toss her bonnet onto her bed, to swiftly change into jeans and a somewhat presentable T-shirt, even though Saturday mornings before 8 were, by law, designated as Sarah Time.

And then, three weeks ago, the last time she’d seen him in person, she’d raced down the stairs to get AJ’s stuffed toy (some Minecraft thing? Sarah could never keep track) that he’d accidentally left outside before he woke up, cheesy printed pajamas and all. He hadn’t flinched.

He could fit into Sarah Time, she’d decided, right then and there. Lizzo’s “Cuz I Love You” was left on repeat on her phone for her the rest of the day.

So she slips downstairs, ‘Bad Mama Jama’ shirt and all. Coffee steeps. Two mugs are produced, lactose-free milk dumped into each, and a sizable glop of honey into hers.

After all this time, his breath still catches a little when he sees her come out the back door. The humidity that sticks to Bucky’s skin like a stifling coat makes her skin shimmer in the faint sunlight. She yawns, her nose wrinkling just enough that it’s painfully cute, and then she relaxes, still sleepy but serene as she presses the hot mug into his right hand.

“Hey.” He greets her.

“Hey.” Her smile grows. “You’re back.”

“I am. With cinnamon rolls.” Sure enough, a paper bag rests next to the swing. He pats his left side, and she obliges. Their thighs touch plainly this time.

She takes a slow sip of her coffee. “Hope you haven’t been sitting here all night. Where’s Sam?”

“About an hour, and still in DC. Captain America business, and all that.”

“And what? No Winter Soldier business?”

Bucky shrugs. “I like the quiet.” Her quiet. Or maybe just her and the boys, though the boys weren’t that quiet. And ‘like’ was too weak a word at this point, probably.

She takes another sip of coffee, strangely proud. He does too, if only to silence the annoyingly insistent voice in the back of his head nagging him to just put his arm around her shoulder already.

“Still not sure about this fancy milk, though.”

“You mean milk that me and the kids can actually digest?” Sarah knows damn well he can’t taste the difference. “Well, I have bad news for you about oat milk. And soy milk." She grins wickedly. "And don't forget rice milk-”

“None of which belong in coffee.” After nearly a century of identities and missions she’s not sure if she ever wants to hear about, his Brooklyn accent is faint, but he still stretches out the caw in ‘coffee’. How mortifying it is, the way she perks up when that grit bleeds out.

He brushes the bright blue hem of her bonnet. “Is this new?”

She shakes her head and pulls it off. Dark braids tumble down her shoulders. These ones are new, he notices - they’re tighter at the root, and shimmer with oil that smells of roses. “Found out AJ stuffed it in the couch cushions a month ago. I just happened to stick my hand down there yesterday. I do not know what it is about him and that damn couch.” She snickers. “Maybe I’ll get lucky and find a signed check for a million dollars down there one day.”

He chuckles, and gives the ground a little kick the start the swing going again. “Did he get his new glasses yet? Last time I was here, he was saying that he didn’t want to see the optometrist again.”

“Yeah, he doesn’t like the...” Sarah makes a motion with a finger, like she’s pressing a button. “There’s a little gun they use. They blow a puff of air onto your eyeball.”

Bucky recoils a little. “They what?”

“It’s supposed to measure it for the prescription. They tried to do it on me before they did his. I thought it was supposed to be just like a little breeze, but it bounces off your eye.” She pauses and scratches her head. “I may have hollered-”

“Ha! I bet he took that well.”

“I had to get him on my lap to calm down.” She sighs and pouts, just a little. “At least he still wants to be held. Cass makes me drop him off a block away from school now.”

Cass is indeed growing. Overnight, he’s shot up like a reed so that he’s just as high as Bucky’s shoulders. His normally smooth skin is interrupted by a few bumps, and his voice bounces around in pitch like an untuned clarinet. Something in his chest twinges when he considers it, how time marches forward. How, very soon, the collective wide-eyed innocence of the boys will harden into adulthood.

Her gaze falls to his left hand. The fingers curl and flex. She still remembers the first time she’d looked at his arm, really looked at it, the dark plates molding and shifting. It’d been the second time they’d shared this same porch, waiting for Sam to bring back the boys from fishing.

I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, Sarah, he’d said suddenly, catching her gaze. His voice had been heavy, but clear. Dark blue eyes filled with regret. I’ve hurt people. Killed people. I didn’t have a choice, but, with you and- here, she’d held her breath as his Adam’s apple bobbed, how quickly he’d blinked - and the boys, I...I don’t want- I need you to know all of me. Who I’ve been. Who I am. And then you can decide. But you can’t do that if I’m not honest.

She doesn’t remember what she’d said after. She does remember watching him get into the truck so Sam could take him to the airport. How he’d paused when he’d opened the door, and turned towards her, eyes wide. Vulnerable. How she’d smiled at him, and waved, maybe a bit too cheesily, like it’d been the easiest thing in the world, because despite it all, oddly, she hadn’t been afraid. How the widest grin had broken out on his face and something deep inside her chest that had been closed had burst open for the first time since she’d lost Andrew. And she remembers watching the truck pull out of the drive as her heart filled to such a capacity that her chest hurt, and the second they’d disappeared over the hill she’d promptly burst into tears, well, really, half laughing and half sobbing, because how the hell was she supposed to know she could find that feeling again?

It’s only when she sees his jaw clench that she finally notices the cut, long and fading pink against his chiseled cheekbones. Maybe she’s getting too used to them - he’s always injured in some way when he gets back.

He can see that familiar softening in her eyes as she catches sight of the gash. Well, it had been a gash just an hour before, the result of catching a thrown knife on his cheek before he’d caught the hilt. But what’s about to happen next will play like clockwork.

First, she’s going to try to get a closer look. Her index and pointer finger come up just under his chin, tilting his head to the side. His skin tingles, the electricity of her concern rushing through him.

Then, she’ll hum. She’s never chastised him, though he wouldn’t know what there’d be to say if she tried. But that hum says more than enough.

“Hmm.”

In the moment, she doesn’t feel herself cupping his face with both hands, it just sort of happens. Her throat dries instantly as the stubble brushes in her palms.

He can’t breathe, but every single muscle in his body relaxes. He sinks into her touch.

“Y- you should see the other guy,” he manages to get out. There’s a faint memory that breaks to the surface, the docks in New York, 1940-something, 1943? A date whose name has been lost to time, the last date he’d ever go on. Soft hands cupping his face, just like this, and warm, pleading ruby-red lips crashing dully into his, a whisper to not forget her.

Sarah’s tongue darts between her lips. Both thumbs rub small circles into his cheeks. It wasn’t a question of if he wanted to kiss her, no. When has a day gone by that he hasn’t thought of kissing her? How is it that it’s never happened, but he can see it, clear as crystal, and hold it in his mind’s eye. How can he already feel her warm and flush and present and breathless and real against him?

Very slowly, she comes back to herself, and her face immediately flushes with a sharper heat. Her hands awkwardly drop from his face. She tries to think of something, anything, to interrupt the silence (to explain herself?), but every word that comes to mind sticks helplessly in her throat and she just can’t stand it because she’s the same, she’s exactly the same as she’d been at 17, leg jiggling and sweating and staring a hole right through the back of Andrew’s head in AP Calculus.

(She’d never wanted to punch Sam so bad back then when he’d had the audacity to say well, just tell him, already. The audacity of him, to think things were so simple.)

She leans back, scooting just a hair away this time. The crest of the sun beams through the trees, painfully bright. Her pulse is louder now. She’s looking at the small grove so intently she doesn’t even register the weight gently settle on her left shoulder at first. It only clicks when she feels the cool metal of his thumb brush up and down her bicep. Their eyes lock, brown against against blue.

He’s still smiling, and she, she realizes, is too.

So she melts into him. She melts into him, her ear landing over his chest, her arm wrapping around the small of his back. She sighs into the muted whoosh whoosh whoosh of his heartbeat, the cotton of his shirt, and the faint smell of spearmint on his breath. Another kick of her foot and they’re swinging yet again, back and forth, back and forth. The sun pulls itself up ever higher and higher.

The light starts to burn his cheek. “The boys’ll be up soon,” he murmurs into her hair.

She snuggles deeper into him. “Mmm.”

They’re on the precipice of something, this, they both know. They're inching closer and closer, and one day they’ll step off, and she’ll kiss him full on the mouth and whenever he’ll come back to the house he’ll be coming back home and whenever they go anywhere they’ll stick each others hand in their back pockets in that particular way that teenagers do that let everyone know that they’re each others and there’s nothing they can do about it.

One day. But for now, this is more than enough.

They like the quiet.