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ronearoundblindly · 2 years

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Hello darling! No pressure (I fukin tried to write this anon and YOU WOULD HAVE KNOWN), but I keep thinking about a workaholic reader who needs cared for! It’s the beginning of a new year but she’s already worn out from last year.

You write such a real Steve, can he be stern about it? Tough, rewarding love? And you can request (that I stfu) anything from me, I wish you the whole world 💚💚💚💚

Drag me kicking and screaming :P

Dear bestie,

You bish. Fine. I see what you did there. Be warned, I'mma tap you back for this. Oh, it'll happen...

Not Today

Warnings for...Steve is a bit of a hypocrite? and that might be it? Oh, and Steve uses completely canonical profanity. It's literally the exact same line. You're welcome. WC 3.1k

The tech support department is a team. There are about a dozen people who are tasked with directly answering any Avenger's call at any time, day or night or holiday. You know your own team but not socially since you all rotate and shift hours. It's a fairly lonely job, and that's fine.

The world's superheroes don't know your names, can't distinguish your voices, and don't really care which of you picks up as long as they get the information they need. Steve Rogers is guilty of this, too. It's not on purpose, but he still struggles to remember more than just a 2-D connection can come from technology. Old habits are hard to break.

Then came Thanksgiving, and Steve took several for the team by coordinating casual progress on a few upcoming missions while the rest of the Avengers scattered to celebrate with family. He still saw people; he still enjoyed the festivities. He just also worked.

That's when Steve noticed.

He called your department at 1900h after the big dinner because a document scan was cut off oddly and he needed to see the original. You answered.

He called again after the house was quiet and everyone slept. At 2300h, you answered.

With barely-bridled irritation, Steve called instead of a morning run because he needed clarification on a recon analysis. You answered at the ripe 0500h, but he was too distracted to notice it was the same voice until that afternoon.

When it occurred to him that the same person answered four calls in a row, Steve asks for your name, but you politely remind him you aren’t supposed to say it over the line.

“Plus, it’s not important, Captain Rogers. Answering your questions is.”

He doesn’t like that one bit.

After the holiday though, it’s you picking up less often. The others are back in rotation more, and perhaps it was just a fluke, he thinks. If you can’t say your name, you certainly can’t tell him that you filled in for coworkers hoping to spend just a few extra hours with their families.

Your team works out of one central computer lab which Steve knows, but since it’s all by phone and online, remote shifts are common. Steve wouldn’t have time to stalk around the facility anyway.

He lets it go.

On his way out to the landing pad one night, Sam Wilson joins him in the elevator, suited up, ready, and on the phone.

“Thanks, Genie, I’ll call if there’s anything else,” Sam says before hanging up and nodding at Steve. “Ready?”

“Always,” he grunts back. “Who’s Jeannie?”

“One of the techs.”

“She told you her name?” Steve looks stunned. One of your coworkers doesn’t seem to follow the rules.

“Didn’t. She’s just particularly magical…and effectively trapped in a bottle since she’s always on the phone, I guess.”

Oh—Steve gets it now—Genie is like a nickname. That doesn’t explain why it is still you (because he just knows it’s you) answering calls so frequently.

“Are they short-staffed or something? People out on leave?”

Sam shrugs. “I don’t know, Cap. She just tells me what I need to know.”

They head off on their mission.

Steve Rogers doesn’t have much of a social life. Ok, fine, he doesn’t have any social life, but he’s a curious sort of man. It bugs him to not understand what’s going on around him, and in theory, this isn’t a huge mystery. He pulls up the time logs for the on-call analysis team and glances over it.

Whether he expected a simple coincidence or a mostly-female staff now that could sound similar, Steve’s not sure, but what he finds infuriates him by proxy. He stops himself from looking up the personnel file for your employee number though. He’s not so mad as to break that protocol.

For another week or so, he fights the urge to hang up on you and call again since he knows there are likely at least three other people available. It probably wouldn’t make his point clear because Steve doesn’t know what his point is yet. Instead, he grits his teeth and does his work, oblivious to his annoyance growing.

Until Christmas Eve when he walks by the lobby coffee bar just as he’s dialing your team’s hotline.

He doesn’t notice at first but the woman next in a long line to order scurries out to hold the phone to her ear, pinning it to her shoulder and opening her laptop right there as she stands. He hears your response echo in both his ears and looks up.

“You gotta be shitting me,” he huffs, stomping over.

It’s only when he snatches your phone away that you realize he’s there. “Oh, gosh, sir—I mean, hello, Captain.”

“What are you doing?!”

He’s downright terrifying when angry, and his fury coupled with your alarm makes you shrink in your own skin.

“I—I just—“

“What is this? Day nine? In a row?!” His voice cracks slightly as he barks out questions he already knows the answer to. He sees people staring around you, so he points down the far hall. “Conference room, now.”

He keeps your phone in hand and ignores it ringing three times before you even make it to the giant table. You look tired. He complains it’s unhealthy but when you try to say something he cuts you off and asks when you last ate. That’s simple, right? You have to feed yourself.

“I was in line, sir. That’s what I was doing.”

“Then you shouldn’t have answered the phone. Sit there, no, right there.” He points and presses one finger against the wood for emphasis. “You don’t move. You don’t leave this room. I’m taking this—“ he pockets your phone “—and you sit there.”

As he’s about to let the door close behind him, he turns. “And if you so much as touch that laptop…”

It’s explicitly clear that you are still terrified, but you nod.

He comes back with food from their private lounge, a variety since he doesn’t know if you have restrictions or allergies. There’s water and coffee already in the room. He sits and eats something with you, staring until you munch on a few things.

When he’s satisfied, he stands and hands back your silenced phone. “I don’t want to catch you overworking like this again, you hear?”

Your very wide eyes blink twice.

He takes that as yes, wraps his knuckles on the table, and goes back to his own work.

Steve gets exactly what he wants. You log long—but no extra—shifts all the way through to New Year. He never hears your voice when he’s not supposed to.

Except…he celebrated the clock striking midnight with Wilson, Torres, and some other employees on the roof, and after the crowd dissipated, Steve couldn’t get to sleep. He walks (wanders) the halls when this happens. The building is empty.

Of course, the building is not empty, so Steve smacks the glass door open in frustration.

“Nobody works in this lab for third shift.”

You’re startled, ripping your headset off and half-rising from a rolling chair. “This is my shift, and…I’m not nobody.”

“Agreed,” he spits before realizing how that sounds. “Gah—“ he runs his hand through his hair, pulling harder than necessary “—this is insufferable.”

“Agreed,” you mumble, sitting back down with a questioning gaze.

Thinking of nothing else to say, Steve then bursts, “have you at least eaten?”

“Uh…it’s two in the morning. It’s not a meal time.” You flinch at his powerful huff. “Have you? Do you need to eat, Captain Rogers?”

You point him toward a tiny table.

Of course, the phone rings, but he stares you down. “Are there other people working remotely?”

“Yeah but—“

“But what,” he says in a very specific way to indicate there is no correct response except—

“Nothing. I am actually supposed to work though.”

“Seventy-plus hours this week and you still think it’s required?” Steve kicks himself internally. He just showed his hand.

“No…?”

“Just stop—“ He doesn’t get to finish.

His phone rings, and he suddenly can’t say squat. Steve simply answers it, wearing the most sternly disappointed face he can muster, and leaves.

He gets bold. Something about the anger boiling up inside him at the whole situation makes him far more aggressive at trying to change your habits, more so now that he’s seen your face. You’re not a 2-D sound anymore. You’re real, and you really work too much.

He keeps a closer track of the time logs and sees you’ve, in fact, reduced your hours. Then he hears Torres say something about ‘you rock, Genie’ on the phone…nine hours after he spoke to you that morning. So he checks and you’re not on-call. That’s when he realizes you’ve been working after and before clocking in so it looks like you have no overtime.

That’s nonsensical to Steve. He’s livid.

He picks out one of the burner phones constantly available to his Team and does something he’s not super proud of but feels justified in: he looks up your address in your file. It ends up not being a huge deal because you live in an apartment complex almost entirely rented out by compound employees. Still. Steve folds in his own self-condemnation with his fury at your deceit.

And you lied. You lied to him.

He drives over and stands by the door, flips open the phone, and calls the hotline.

“Ready,” a female voice chirps. It’s customary. No chit-chat just immediately prepared to listen to and research the caller’s question, but he can’t be sure it’s you from one word. Then Steve realizes he can’t say anything because he’ll give away that he also knows you have screened his calls from his normal number during times you are supposed to be off.

“Unclear. Weak audio connection. Boosting in three, two—“

Steve pounds on your door because goddamnit, stop working, woman. There’s a very sharp squeak from the phone (and through the entry) before the line cuts out. His heart rate and breathing spike in anger when he hears a muffled, “what do you want?”

It’s sad, not quizzical or alarmed. You’ve looked through the peephole at him.

“Open the door,” Steve says in his Captain voice, and you do, right away, unable to not comply. He wiggles the phone. “I know for a fact three other people are on-call. Explain yourself.”

You’ve also straightened in anger, but the posture is defensive and fragile. “It’s not like my work suffers, and I can keep going—“

“Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should,” he barks back, stepping over the threshold and blocking the entire doorway. “And you suffer even if the work doesn’t.”

You have no rebuttal for a long moment, frowning at his intrusion until you try again.

“Well, you…you’ve been up since at least five—“

“I have a physical advantage to handle more than you on less sleep.”

Your face sours further. “And that makes you better than me?!”

He’s defeated by that, having first scared the daylights out of you by yelling in the atrium, then interrupting you at the lab, and now showing up at your home to yell some more. Steve isn’t at all sure what’s gotten into him.

His shoulders sink. He finally takes a second to look around.

“You’re done. You are off work for the night. Do not pick up that phone.” He snatches it away again. “Just do something else.”

Without moving your feet, your whole body swivels to look around your apartment. You fill the silence with a short sniffle before confessing, “I…I don’t have anything else to do.”

Neither does he. Steve has not a single clue what he’d do if he were told the exact same thing.

“It won’t fit,” you gasp in frustration.

Steve sighs. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.” He continues to watch you struggle, leaning forward just enough so his breath fans over your face. “Go on. You can do it. It’s meant to be.”

“Shut up,” you whimper before dropping the slippery piece in defeat.

“You know in real life—“ he clucks his tongue “—they make cars big enough for your brood there.”

“Steve, this is the game of LIFE. I don’t know that anyone is supposed to end up with five children and a spouse. I’ll just have to strap him to the top of the van.”

As you delicately lay the little man to the side, Steve frowns.

“That’s no way to treat your beloved second son!”

“Who said it was my son I kicked outta the car?”

He barely stifles a laugh and goes to spin for his turn, but not Steve’s turn.

In order to make the game last longer, and because you both have somewhat alter egos, you are playing with Steve, Captain America, Genie, and yourself.

Genie has apparently been super busy having five children. It’s ridiculous.

So Captain America scores one for his perfect little life: a mansion.

“Look at you, Mister Two-Kids-and-A-White-Picket-Fence,” you chide.

One boy and one girl, of course. It’s now the running joke of the game that everyone’s life is terrible compared to Cap’s, even Steve’s.

Steve has three sons, and he keeps grumbling that he wants a daughter. You have offered him one of yours. He feigned offense. He openly hopes to avoid ending up like Genie though.

“I guess I’m just very dedicated to servicing my customers,” you joke in your best phone voice.

Steve sputters and blushes, putting down his to-go container in favor of sipping more water.

He withheld your phone to order, too, and insisted on paying for the obscene amount of food (because he eats like a horse, it seems). In addition, you are required to have half a glass of water every time your phone goes off. Self-care, he says. Hydration is good.

His phone has vibrated a few times as well, and because he’s him, Steve always answers to make absolutely sure it’s not urgent. He talks in his Captain voice, which gave you the idea to make him play the board game like that. He’s actually quite funny trying to get it together and ‘act the part’ while he spins a tiny rainbow dial that he’s already broken twice.

The air of irritation he arrived with has dissipated, and he smiles more. It makes you smile to see him relax. He’s more animated than you would have guessed. He holds himself very straight and still as Cap; Steve is a lot more approachable and a lot easier to make fun of.

He almost left in a completely flabbergasted huff when his original suggestion was for you to have a hot bath or something. Your quick “what are you gonna do? Watch me?” made Steve nearly crawl out of his skin in apology, but you decided to put him out of his misery and suggested eating instead.

“Right. Food,” he muttered under his breath, “that’s a good, basic life requirement…”

And that’s when you also had the idea for this game.

Best decision ever.

He’s never played, so you only made it through a few turns before the delivery arrived. Steve is practically a natural…a natural loser, that is, and it somehow makes him even more perfect. As Cap, he fights for justice, but he doesn’t fight over game rules or what’s fair about random cards and moving in an arbitrary pattern on the board. He doesn’t care if he wins, and oddly, you feel like the gleam in his eyes says “I’m winning by just being here.”

You feel the same. This is the most fun you’ve had in a long time, and it’s just a stupid foldout piece of cardboard. He’s just that magical.

So you both hide away in your own little bottle all night.

More jabs, more setbacks, more triumphant returns from behind later, and you barely care who wins. You chat absently between every spin. You have too much fun going wild with your alter ego’s stories. Then it’s past the three-hour mark of no-calls and quite late.

The food isn’t all gone, so you hop up to make Steve a doggy bag to take home. He shifts from relaxed to wildly awkward in the space of your walk back over.

“So,” he drawls, staring at your two phones on the coffee table, side by side and silent.

“So,” you mimic with a smirk, “I promise to not work until tomorrow, logged in or not. You have my word. Scouts’ honor.”

“I’d say I trust you—“ he bobs his head around, thinking “—but I don’t, so I might have to check up on you.”

“Oh dear,” you gasp. “A home visit? Expected or unexpected?”

He clearly feels bad about how he ended up here for the night, but Steve steps forward to take the wrapped offering of leftovers.

“Maybe expected. Next week? Same time?”

“Sure. I can survive on eating once a week.” It’s cheeky and a little forward of you, implying you might only eat with him and so he should see you that much more, but Steve beams.

He squints a little. “Or maybe sooner?”

“I’d like that. This…this was fun.” You step closer to gently kiss his cheek. “Thank you, Captai—Steve. Thanks.”

“Next time, I want a daughter,” he laughs, tilting to kiss your cheek, too, and then he jumps back and slaps his forehead. “No. Not like. I’m so sorry. That came out all wrong.”

You cackle while he still tries to correct himself.

“We can play the game. And in the game, it would be nice if—would you stop? I didn’t mean it like that.”

A few big breaths has you settling but just barely.

“I know, but hey, maybe next time you’ll be the one tied up?”

Steve swallows hard with huge eyes.

“To the top of the van, that is, because you would give up your seat for the children, right?”

Yeah, he would, he agrees and sees himself out, adding one more good night as he plucks his phone back, pushing it into his pocket next to the burner.

On his ride home, he already has the urge to check.

“Hey,” you answer immediately. “What’s up?”

“You aren’t supposed to pick up. You promised,” he snorts, smiling.

“But I knew it was you.”

He’ll be mad at that eventually. He should be mad at that. He could give another Captain speech about overworking and caring for yourself and yadda yadda, but not today.

No. Not today.

Today, you cared for each other, even though you didn’t know how, even though you didn’t want to, even though it was hard. Tomorrow, you can both care even more.

Immediately started bawling. Whoops.

Reminder to self: it isn't even the big things that make you feel cared for. Sometimes it's just a very simple joy.

[Main Masterlist]

#ro answers #hypocrites unite!#steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers hurt/comfort #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x female reader

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girlygo2 · 7 months

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Not a Wilson ask, but also kinda a Wilson ask? Just a clarification on the rules basically lol. You said we could ask him about Retorateras and stuff but I wanted to know where in the timeline we're specifically asking from, like is it post fic, pre fic, or mid fic?

OH! thank you very much for asking for clarification!! Hmm...

...Oh jeeze, I'm not sure. I think I'll make it post fic, even though it's less exciting. if you wanna ask pre-fic or mid fic Wilson, that's ok! Just clarify, I will understand ^^

And if the question doesnt relate to Retorateras, it won't be mentioned, referenced, ect.

#gg2wilsonask

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motziedapul · 1 year

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saw a post you made reccomending the moongirl show and i just wanted to correct one tiny thing: MOONGIRL IS NOT PART OF THE MCU it's seperate lol

In one episode they name drop the Avengers and in another they have Sam Wilson as Captain America picking up a Supervillain. I haven't watched the whole series yet so it could be an MCU adjacent show but I definitely thought it was part of it from that!

Thanks for the clarification though, is there anywhere they mention specifically what universe it is/how it's different from the MCU?

#anon #moon girl and devil dinosaur #replies

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pedropcl · 3 years

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THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER, episode 4

#thanks for the clarification #the falcon and the winter soldier #sebastian stan #anthony mackie #bucky barnes #sam wilson #baron zemo #marvel #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier spoilers #e: the whole world is watching #*my gifs #*sebastian stan #*bucky barnes #*sam wilson #*anthony mackie #*baron zemo #*daniel bruhl #*tfatws

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the-open-future · 4 years

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Jack Harper

(on the Lazarus Research Station)

Jacob: Once we’re off the station, I’ll take you to the Illusive Man. He’ll explain everything. Promise.

Shepard: Illusive Man? Is he in charge of all this?

Wilson: Yeah. That’s not his real name, of course. Nobody knows who he really is.

I love this conversation at the beginning of ME2.

Specifically, I love after Jacob spills the beans about Cerberus to a newly awakened Shepard, who’s hearing the name for the first time.... And Wilson feels the need to confirm, for the record, that “Illusive Man” is not in fact this person’s real name.

I love it because it suggests there’s a possibility, however small, that perhaps a set of parents - you know, the Mans - had a child and named that infant “Illusive,” or maybe even “The Illusive.”

#me2 #the illusive man #jack harper #wilson #thanks for the clarification wilson #very helpful #this was in my drafts but now it's free

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sweet-demiboi · 3 years

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Well. Mhmmm, I was thinking of being the other King of Asgard and maybe also a God? (maybe the God of Knolagde). And maybe the Avengers need help so Thor asks his Husband😜 and that of course, means that the Avengers will meet him and maybe kinda fangirl? Oooh I'm so stupid, I forgot to ask, do we need to describe our personality? Cause if so I'm rather shy.

Also feel free to message if you need any clarifications.

Thanks!

Thor x Male!Reader

Plot: Requested

Warnings: Hm... bad English? A bit angst, but really not much

.............................................................................................................................

You were having trouble in your mind. You sat outside in the beautiful gardens of Asgard's palace, admiring the beauty of the nature around you. But it wasn't able to clear your mind of the concerned thoughts you were thinking about for the past days now.

Thor had promised to inform you about everything that was happening in his life on Midgard but he had neither sent a message nor had he visited Asgard by himself. You were seriously concerned about your husband.

You got up from the chair you were sitting on before and started walking around the gardens. No other god or goddess disturbed you as they could clearly see that you were trying to focus on your problems.

At least that was something you could do really well, after all you were the god of knowledge and wisdom. Different scenarios played in your imagination and you didn't notice the person standing next to you until they laid a hand on your shoulder.

Your head went straight up and in the matter of just a few seconds, you had pulled out your dagger and were putting it against the intruders throat.

"Whoa, keep calm, (Y/N)!", Thor laughed with raised hands. You sank your weapon and looked at him with an accusing look in the eyes. "Why didn't you tell me about your days? I was concerned.", you asked with crossed arms.

Thor smiled but looked a bit defeated at the same time "I am sorry, my love, but I wasn't able to send you a message. The mission we're working on right now is quite hard.", he stepped closer to you and took your hands in his own, big and warm ones. His blue eyes had a pleading look in them "I should have told you about it earlier, I'm sorry." A small smile spread on his lips as well as on your own.

"I'm still mad.", you informed him "But not as mad as before." Of course your husband could've handle the situation otherwise but everyone made mistakes sometimes although Thor didn't want to hear that. You decided that you had forgiven him, but wouldn't tell him now.

"So, why are you here?", you asked "Obviously something's up." The god of thunder smiled, you knew that he loved it, when you acted smart "I need your help with that mission I was talking about before." You nodded slightly and and started slowly walking with his hand in yours. "Tell me about it.", you demanded, so he told you:

"Hydra is active again, it's a terror-group, which managed to hide from us for quite some time now, but we managed to get a few hints from some... shady people. If we could crack the code they gave us, we could handle them! This coded message can tell us their location! But sadly... we couldn't crack it until now."

"That means you want me to help you with that message?", you understood. Thor nodded "You're the god of knowledge and wisdom!", he took both of your hands in his and stood before you, excited and with pleading eyes "Please! Please, (Y/N), help me!" You smirked slightly and whispered: "Of course."

Thor smiled brightly, cupped your cheeks and kissed you pasionately on the lips. Oh boy, how you had missed that! His warm lips on yours, his body pressed against your own and rising together in that bubble of love for each other. His tongue found its way into your mouth and played eagerly with your own. You slung your arms around his neck to stabilize yourself.

You looked deeply into each others eyes after this kiss. "Let's do that code!", you whispered against his now swollen lips, which showed you a big smile now.

.............................................................................................................................

Over all this excitement you had forgotten that you were rather shy towards new people, so you grabbed the hand of your husband while Heimdall was bringing you to earth. Thor's thumb brushed slightly over the back of your hand, calming you a little bit.

Suddenly you stood on the top of the Avengers tower, Thor had already told you about. The outlook you had over New York was stunning and something you had never seen before. "It's beautiful, isn't it?", Thor asked next to you and you were only able to nod. He closed your mouth with putting a finger under your chin, smirking when you blushed slightly.

"Oh, Thor, you're here again!", a man with sunglasses and an expensive looking suit walked over to you. It had to be Tony Stark, who your husband had also talked about. "And you must be his charming, smart husband he always talks about!", he gifted you a smile and put out his hand for you to shake it.

"That's right, Tony Stark.", you shook his hand a bit nervously, but he didn't seem to notice. "I guess Thor already told you about our problem?"

"I wouldn't be here, if he had not.", you answered and Tony laughed, already guiding you inside. You weren't pleased by seeing even more people in the conference-room, where you had just walked in. The looks were on you, the other Avengers seemed interested in your presence and someone was walking towards you.

"Hello, my name is Steve Rogers.", he shook your hand "Thank you for the cooperation.", he acted a bit nervous himself, but you just smiled and introduced yourself too.

"Where's this code I'm here for?", you asked. A red-haired woman in a black suit came to you and gave you a piece of old-looking paper. "We tried to figure it out with countless programs, but nothing worked.", she had a slight russian accent, and looked you up and down.

You took the paper out of her hand and looked briefly at it "No wonder, I don't think any computer or even program was invented in the time this language was spoken, Ms Romanoff."

"Wait a moment, it's a language?", a man, Clint Barton, asked with crossed arms. "How could you figure that out so fast?", another one interfered, who had to be Sam Wilson. "The structure and signs in the text are similar to old-greek although it's way older. It might be an old japanese text, as there are still some people who can translate it. Give me an hour and you'll have a translation."

The group was starring at you with surprised looks, which made you a bit uncomfortable, so you looked over to your husband, searching for help. Thor came right next to you and requested the others to get out that you could concentrate. "Can we keep him?", Bucky mouthed to Thor, who rolled his eyes smilingly, but you felt very flattered as Thor had told you that the 'man with a metal arm' wasn't trusting people fastly.

"They already like you.", Thor commented, when everyone had gotten out of the room. "Looks like so... it's calming that I'm not the only one who is nervous." Your husband laughed a little and caressed your cheek. "I wish you good luck with the code.", you smirked "I don't need luck." Thor smirked back "Have fun." He kissed you softly and left the room too.

You weren't mad anymore. How could you? You loved him.

I found time a bit earlier! :D Hope you enjoy it, @marilynmonroefanfics

#thor x male reader #thor x male!reader #requested #fluff #marvel #the avengers #mcu #gay #loveislove

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house-md-obsession · 3 years

Text

Shake [James Wilson x Reader] Part Four

Her eyes shifted from the brunette with an amber tint in her hair as she glanced back down to her hot cup of coffee in hand. Despite having slept a lifetime for many people, she still felt the pangs of exhaustion on her overworked body tugging at her joints as well as her lack of ability to focus on one thing at a time as she gradually recovered. She found herself longing for the comfort of James' bed, as odd as it was. Not him, but the wonderfully luxurious bed in which she now sees a necessity.

'Who knows if I'll sleep that well again without that damn bed.'

"_____?"

Her eyes flit up to the previously mentioned Thirteen. She flashed her the familiar lost-in-thought smile in which her face is normally decorated.

"I'm exhausted, I am so fucking sorry." She stated, a soft laugh elicited from the two. Despite having slept as much as she has, she still felt tiredness tug at her eyes.

"I can tell. Wilson said you were wiped but I didn't expect you to still be a walking corpse." She said, and ___ sighed, tightening her messy bun that lay upon her head. Her soft baby hairs sat wildly as they wanted, too short to go up with the rest of her hair.

"Yeah, I'm honestly not doing the best. I think House was actually right in forcing me to take the week off. I can hardly focus on anything."

"There's this really weird thing that happens, when you don't sleep like you're supposed to—"

"Shhh... I'm feeling the consequences of my actions. Trust me. I'm a million times more miserable than I look, and I know I'm roughing it right now." She stated, feeling her joints ache as she reached for her cup of coffee. Every movement felt as though there was sand in between her joints. “I’ve also got a lot on my mind that I am trying to navigate. I just haven’t had an opportunity between such big cases. I know it is literally our job, but we haven’t had an easy case in months. I miss the times I was able to just go screw with Wilson while he wrote up emails.”

"So... how do things seem?" Remy asks, seemingly pushing for a conversation she didn't quite want to bring up. Not directly, at least. ____ cocked her head, setting her cup down once again.

"How does what seem?" ____ asked.

"Things." Remy said, again, indirectly pressing. Still confused, ____ was about to ask for clarification, before her eyes caught those of the softly parted brunette male, making his way towards the two from the coffee counter, two cups in hand.

____ smiled, and moved over in her booth to make room for her friend as his eyes met hers with a warm, shy smile making its way upon the flirts' face.

"You look much better than last night." He commented, setting the cups down in front of them. Remy gave him a quiet 'hey' as he got situated.

"Hey, James. You meeting someone?" ____ asked, moving over a little more so he could get comfortable. He moved over a little more, mere inches between the two.

"Thirteen let me know where you guys were going so I swung by and gave you a house key." He said, and dug into his pocket for a minute, before dishing out his keys. He plucked a freshly made, bright silver one from his key ring, and handed it to you.

Thirteen's eyes widened, and to seemingly keep her mouth shut, she took a sip of her coffee.

"Thank you..? I don't...?" ____ stammered, wondering why this was necessary besides so she can grab her stuff later, but she assumed she'd just go back to her place until later.

"I know your apartment is on the rough side of town, and I have a conference I leave for at the end of the month for a week, and I just wanted to extend... the offer of somewhere... safer to you. Plus I'll probably be working late, so you can grab your stuff at least." He said, 'cooly' as he could. Thirteen shot James a confused look. She arched an eyebrow and leaned forward a little.

"Are you asking her to house-sit or are you inviting her to move in?" James' face went red and he let out a nervous laugh.

"I'm just letting her know she is always welcome over if she needs to! When House and I went by her apartment to grab some stuff the other night it was... shady." He said, trying his hardest not to offend the girl next to him, avoiding eye contact.

“I am happy to house-sit. We can talk about that later, I’m sure I’ll see you tomorrow at the latest.” ___ said, and James was happy to take any out of this conversation, even if his out is ‘house sitting’.

"Who is the other coffee for? House?" Thirteen asked.

"No, no. That ass can buy his own coffee after the emotional torment I was subject to last night." He said, a sigh leaving his face as he paranoidly glanced around the room, as if to judge whether or not it was clear to say what was on his mind in the moment. Remy cocked an eyebrow, obviously intrigued by the vague statement.

"What 'torment' did you have to endure?” She said, gently tossing her long, chestnut hair behind her shoulders.

“It is a crime and extremely offensive for me to be friends with a female that is not the exact same age as me.” He said, feeling a heat make its way to his face with the mere mention of the conversation. He almost felt like he was ripping the innocence from his mature, younger friend by even thinking about her following the visuals House had nearly injected into his head.

Several hours were spent on and off “teasing” Wilson for his intentions with the young colleague the two shared. House consistently swore she was only around for being an excellent doctor and a total idiot with the passion for her job to leave her relentlessly exhausted at all times, seeing as she needs to be virtually held at gunpoint to sleep.

“You’re keeping her around and only doing this as a fastpass into her panties. I’ve seen her ass, I don’t blame you, but at least be honest and stop making yourself look like you’re sacrificing things so she feels more compelled to lie with you.” He remembers House uttering. Wilson just threw him another hateful glance, and resumed his attention back to his phone.

‘Maybe I seriously like her around. Is that such a forgein concept to you? I have a plethora of female friends that I have never tried sleeping with. You can’t seem to make friends with any woman without making it clear the relationship is one-way.’ Wilson thought to himself, just before standing up to check on you. That was the last comment House got in last night before finally dropping the topic.

At least, until midnight struck another day.

“Says House?” ____ asked, cocking her head.

“Implied House. He also implied a lot of other things that have me ignoring his existence today.” He said, taking another heavy sigh as he took a sip of the warm coffee in hand. He felt the urge to glance at ____ as she was part of the discussion, but ignored it.

‘I don’t want her knowing House thinks of her that way. Besides, I have more than one very close female friend, so it's not like she would gather that from this conversation. Right?’ He thought to himself, before finding his inner monolog more confusing than beneficial.

He would, in moments following, find that this did not work as planned.

He sat up readjusting his position next to the tired woman next to him. She slowly nodded, finally understanding what the conversation likely included. She fought off a soft giggle, watching her brunette friend fight a soft blush that was finding its way up on the flirts’ cheek.

“Why are you so pressed? Sounds like textbook House to me. Angry and horny.” Remy muttered, once more taking a sip of her coffee. James stuttered over himself.

James, in fact, was not entirely upset because of the misogyny that he had to endure by sitting idly by his now hammered best friend. He, too, was drunk, while you slept heavily in the other room. Occasional, soft snores could be heard in the living room.

“So, you’re not gonna even try?” The diagnostician said, setting his now-empty scotch glass back onto the coffee table.

“House. She is not interested, and young.” James muttered for what felt like the millionth time.

“‘Young’ is an awful excuse to not pursue the babe in your bed. You really can tell me more about her than any of your ex-wives but you refuse to even try going on a date with her.” The drunk spat out, some truth to his searing words that James refused to accept.

“Maybe I want a serious, platonic relationship like this with someone other than you, House. Whether or not I like her doesn’t matter, I’m not pursuing anything.”

“Now that you’ve made it very clear you’re not going to sleep with her, when I do, I’ll be sure to take pictures.”

“Yes, that is textbook House. Doesn’t mean I should have to deal with him reducing my friends to nice bodies.” He said, glancing to his left and unintentionally making eye-contact with the hopefully-unaware person that brought upon the subject matter.

Both Remy and ____’s eyebrows arched, shooting the oncologist a curious glance as he continued to clam up.

“Who is House jealous that you have around?!” The pair spat out at once, almost as if they had rehearsed the moment a million times. He was mildly taken aback, wondering why this conversation didn’t run through his head as a potential outcome to the topic posed.

For obvious reasons, he was not sure he was ready to sell out his best friend to the innocent, or so he assumed, younger woman next to him that he was not sure would like to hear of the ways her boss objectified her while she was unconscious in the other room.

James felt the familiar heat he tried to overcome over the last few minutes on several occasions burn as it finally won– the tall, flushed brunette finding himself stumbling over words in his head, unknowingly stuttering a response out to the two.

“Cameron.” He spat, little thought following the exclamation. She was the first, non-___ girl that he has even remotely considered a ‘close’ friend over the two facing him.

He locked eyes with ____, and she looked puzzled. He knows, even while absolutely exhausted, she was not buying the lie the man spoke. He knew she was calculated, and knew this was not something she would drop until she knew who he was really referring to. He could feel the urge to call him out to his face– a characteristic he both loved and hated about her– but watched as she readjusted in her seat.

Strangely enough, she nodded, flashed him a smug grin, and shrugged.

“Sounds about right. He always did want to sleep with her.” ___ said softly, taking another sip of the now less-scalding, bitter coffee. James watched in shock as she seemingly continued about listening, not a word leaving her lips. Her baggy eyes now trained on the opening and closing of the slightly busy coffee shop.

“Cameron? You still keep in touch with her?” Remy asked, setting her now almost empty cup to the table. James pulled his confused face from the apparently disinterested girl next to him.

“Well, yes, but very sparingly.” He said, shifting as he felt Remy nearly see right through him. Her face quickly became that of disbelief, but she knew better than to press the man for more answers than he was ready to give. She cleared her throat, it becoming increasingly obvious that she did not believe a word he was saying.

“Okay. Okay. Not Cameron. But who it is doesn’t really matter. They’re a close friend and that is that, I don’t know why House seems to think I only ever want to sleep with the people I have around me. Maybe they’re just good company.” He explained, and relaxed, not realizing the short lived lie had already begun to take a toll on his physicality. The bigger lie he didn’t need to address was that he’d almost definitely, on more than one occasion, found himself wondering what this ‘unspoken’ person would be like as a romantic partner, but that’s just curiosity, right? Is it a crime to imagine what a friend would be like as a partner?

He glanced back at ____, who was still seemingly anywhere emotionally than the coffee shop.

“It’s House, Wilson. You know better than anyone else his cynical ass only brings young women around for one reason.” She said, letting a sigh leave her lips, as she sat back against the rest of her chair. “You’re telling me he’s never harassed you for anyone else?” She pushed.

“Yes, of course he has, but he is particularly insistent with this person in specific.”

“Maybe it is his weird ‘House’ way of getting you two together. He is very good at reading people.” Remy said. She took the final sip of her coffee, gently setting the empty cup down onto the table. She glanced over at her friend, noticing her blank stare towards the floor. ‘Maybe she should get going.’

‘“I-I mean, maybe. But regardless it isn’t any of his business. And I don’t even know if I could be in a romantic relationship with this person. I’m not sure it has even crossed my mind prior to this conversation.” He said, rubbing his thumb against one another underneath the table. He felt unusually nervous speaking those words right next to the unspoken woman in question. He caught another glimpse of the unusually quiet ____ next to him. She had her eyes trained on the door again. He gently tapped her thigh under the table, and she whipped her head around to look at him. She came to, seemingly previously stuck in another universe before flashing him a soft smile.

“‘M sorry. I didn’t sleep well last night. Sorry, I am listening!” She muttered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, flashing a sleepy, almost distracted smile to the oncologist. He felt his anxiety manifest as butterflies in his stomach. He was unsure if it was because of the smile or the subject matter.

He flashed a warm smile in response, feeling his anxiety climb higher with the innocent action.

“Hey, ____, I’m sorry to drag you out. You don’t look well. Let me take you home.” Remy interrupted, and ____ shook her head.

“No, no, it’s okay! I’ve missed you guys. We haven’t hung out like this in months. I’ll go home and go to bed later. Do either of you have somewhere to be?”

“I’ve got work in about an hour. But, Remy is right. You should go rest.” James said, finding his hand rubbing her shoulder. She flashed him a warm smile, and shook her head. “I can take you home if you need, too, or you can grab your house key from my car.” He said, glancing at Remy to watch as she nodded her head in response.

“I have a lot on my mind right now. This is more helpful than you know.” She said.

“So… Who is the extra coffee for?” Remy asked, and James, without a word, hands it to Remy seeing as ____ has not even nearly finished hers.

#gregory house #james wilson #house md #house md imagine #james wilson x reader #house md imagines #james wilson imagines

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authoressskr · 3 years

Text

october is it’s own magic

[october 4th]

Characters: f!plus size reader, Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Peter Parker, Bruce Banner, Sam Wilson, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, James Rhodes, Pepper Potts, Clint Barton, mentions of Maria Hill, Phil Coulson, and Nick Fury

Warnings: Language, no Beta, basically this is me writing for myself :: Notes: THIS CHAPTER IS A LOOOOONG ONE - SORRY! this will be a series. i will be posting it (hopefully*) every day until Halloween. And thanks to @firefly-graphics for the use of the divider! :: Word Count: 5878

Soulmate AU. Bucky has a secret admirer. They keep leaving him all sorts of autumnal goodies with little notes. But who the hell is it?!

Please do NOT repost, copy & paste, post, translate, or share my works on any other platform without my EXPRESS WRITTEN PERMISSION.

-+- REBLOGGING is fine and very appreciated! -+-

[october 3rd]

The camera footage was a bust. They did let him review it - perks of being an Avenger - for the last three weeks which brought up a whopping nothing. No one bought that large a quantity of cookies, usually never more than 3 or 4, and he hadn’t seen you on the footage either, dashing his hopes a little. Bucky hadn’t gone on a run this morning, staking out the counter, only to find that there was a large purple box with orange ribbons around it already sitting there when he woke up.

Whoever it was was quite a few steps ahead of him, which - besides being frustrating - made him think it has to be someone closer to him and the Avengers than he had originally thought. Sam and Steve had left in a cloud of laughter once they saw the box, and his face upon discovering it since he had told them of his plan the evening before. Assholes. It had to be someone with authorization to get onto this floor, as not everyone in the building did. And that - that one nudge of an idea was at the forefront now. So while he waited for everyone to gather, he had gotten his tablet and gone through all the people who did have access.

Turns out it was nearly thirty people, not including the Avengers who lived in-house. He split them into two groups, Possibles and No but Not Written Off. About 12 of those with access are men, and while Bucky isn’t opposed if it is in fact his soulmate, he usually goes for women, so they get moved to NbNWO. That leaves him with the 18 other plausible candidates, ten of which he eliminates further due to the fact their personnel record stated they were already soul-bound.

Sooo, that left him with 8. You, two scientists in their late 40s, one secretary in her mid-50s, two media/social consultants who were 22 and 26, an engineer who was in her late 30s, and an analyst under your division who was two years older than you. Those were all of his possible, un-soul-bound women who could access this floor and possibly be leaving the gifts. He had checked the elevator footage as well (with a silent thank you sent to you as well since he wasn’t apparently firing on all cylinders after he met you), and besides discovering Sam was secretly sneaking down to the 17th floor to hook up with one of the junior scientists after they got off work (which he logged away for future use), he had only seen the secretary, engineer and yourself use the elevator in the past few days. Thus why you kept staying at the top of his list.

Among other things.

Steve brings him back a coffee, an extra-large cappuccino that he happily takes, shoving his tablet away from him with a little disdain at the wall he’s run into.

“Well don’t you look pissed,” Sam mutters as he hands him a warm croissant.

Bucky takes a big bite out of the buttery, flaky bread while pout-glaring at Sam and Steve.

“Three of eight,” He manages around his mouthful before swallowing it down.

“Three of eight what?” Steve asks for clarification, taking a long drink from his own cup.

“Possibilities,” He slides the tablet towards them. “There are eight women who it could be. Three of which have used the elevator to come onto this floor in the last few days.”

“Including your dream girl,” Steve figures out, handing the tablet over to Sam. Bucky just nods miserably before taking a big sip of his cappuccino.

“Aww, why do you look so down this morning, Bucky?” Wanda asks, brushing a hand comfortingly up and down his back.

“His wonderful spy and assassin skills are failing him and he’s pissy about it,” Sam grins out before polishing off his own coffee as Wanda frowns at him.

“Stop being such a dick, Sam.”

“Are you not feeling well?” He hears your soft voice, making his head snap up.

“Just feeling bad about his abilities,” Tony snickers as he comes out of nowhere to pour himself some juice as Natasha slips into the kitchen to make some toast behind him. You move closer to Bucky, gently giving his shoulder a squeeze before stroking up and down his bicep a few times.

“Didn’t find anything on the cameras?” Bucky just gives his head a shake, already missing the warmth of your hand as you pull away. “I’m sorry,” You breathe out as your hand covers his, waiting until his gaze meets yours before smiling encouragingly. “But, I need you to show me what’s in the box, so buck up, sergeant.” He chuckles softly before sighing.

“Sure, doll,” You nod at his words, slipping into the seat beside him as you all wait for the last couple of spectators. Once Clint, Vision, and special guest Rhodey make their appearance, Bucky reaches for the orange ribbon wrapped snugly around the purple box.

Lying atop the black and white shredded crinkle paper is the ever-present cream cardstock.

Soulmate, I hope this lifts your spirits. May I also recommend a movie? Love, me. Inside the card is a picture of what looks like a sleeping girl on the bed and a ghost? It has a caption at the bottom, “Can I keep you?”

“Aww! I love Casper! The old cartoons were a must-watch when I was little and that movie - especially that line - was such an important part of my childhood!” You sound so excited, eyes fixed on the picture in between his vibranium fingers.

“Plus Christina Ricci - Wednesday Addams herself - keeping up the loveable spooky movies? A plus casting,” Natasha adds as she finishes off her first piece of toast with jam, you nodding in agreement before your hand is on his forearm, gently shaking it.

“What’s inside?!” He loves hearing your voice so excited and the light in your eyes at this silly little daily exercise. Bucky reaches in with his right hand, your hand gently taking the card and slip of paper out of his way as he pulls loose a box with a little ghost-shaped wax warmer with three different kinds of pure essential oil wax cubes in it.

“Nice!” Steve says, looking over his shoulder at the box in his hands, reading what essential oil cubes are included. “I have the apple cinnamon ones. But I wanted to try the peppermint ones. Lavender’s nice too. Calming.”

“I like the warmer. Wanda prefers the essential oil diffuser but this is nice also,” Vision states with a smile as Wanda moves to kiss his cheek.

“Don’t worry honey, I’ll buy you a wax warmer if you like,” She coos to him as Bucky tries not to shrivel up with jealousy.

“Okay, I got to go start work now -” You begin, Tony waving as he tries to swallow his ill-timed drink of juice.

“No!” He finally manages to squawk out.

“Ooh-kay then…” You raise an eyebrow at Tony.

“Do you want a lunch or dinner birthday celebration?”

“What?”

Tony stands up, gesturing with his hand. “Lunch or dinner for gifts and goodies? Come on, gotta let Pepper know the details, kid.”

“Um, well the girls in the analysts’ group are taking me to lunch, so dinner?” Tony claps his hands together once and rubs them conspiratorially.

“Perfect! We’ll see you tonight at 9 then!” And then grabs his juice from the counter and motions for Rhodey to follow. Rhodey walks up behind you, leaning over to kiss your cheek.

“Happy birthday, girl.”

“Thank you, Rhodes,” You squeeze his hand that is on your shoulder.

“Happy birthday!!” Tony yells from down the hallway as Rhodey rolls his eyes good-naturedly and with a pat of your shoulder, he heads towards Tony’s voice and workshop.

“Thanks!!” You yell back, Natasha pulling a medium-sized bakery box from behind her as you give a little squeal.

“Happy birthday! I’ll give you your gift tonight, Лисичка. Until then, your cupcakes. And a cookie. ‘Cause I’m soft like that.” Natasha even gives a flourish as she presents the box before you.

“Спасибо,” Bucky is actually pleasantly surprised to hear you speak Russian so naturally. And Natasha’s nickname for you is both fitting and cute; little fox. You are already biting into one of the cupcakes, giving a little groan at how good it is, and wiggling a bit in your seat as well. After your first big bite, you charade-like gesture to Clint for a knife. Slicing the big cupcake into fourths, Clint and Natasha handing out napkins to put them on. “Try it!” You offer, sliding one of the fourths towards him.

“No, that’s your cupcake, doll.”

“It’s de-lici-ous,” You tease before polishing off your part.

“What about us?” Clint gestures to himself and Natasha, going quiet when he sees Natasha jerk her thumb over her shoulder to the fridge.

“I got a couple extra. I know you, dork.”

“I love you,” Clint whispers quickly before hurriedly turning for the fridge door.

“I know.” He can hear Natasha’s response but your gaze doesn’t waver from his except to look down at the piece of cupcake, which he takes between his flesh forefinger and thumb, popping it into his mouth in one big piece and smiling at her when he does before the sweet, creamy taste envelopes his mouth, the white chocolate shavings atop the icing adding to it making him groan. He can vaguely make out Sam bribing Clint for half of his cupcake and Steve eyeing it silently with interest when he manages to look away from you.

“I told you all it was good.”

“You weren’t lying, doll.” You lean in towards him, eyes so soft it almost hurts.

“Well now I know how to tempt you into doing my bidding,” Your teasing tone and the mischief that comes a little into play is far too sexy to resist, Bucky’s hand covering yours on the counter, his thumb swiping back and forth along your own.

“You could tempt me to do a lot with nothing in return, gorgeous.” He watches as your entire face and neck turn pink rapidly, lowering your eyes. Bucky pulls a small wrapped box from his hoodie pocket with his metal fingers, unwilling to remove his hand from yours. “Happy birthday, babydoll,” He whispers just loud enough for you to hear over the four people in the kitchen currently on the phone trying to order 24 more cupcakes and whatever else they’ve discovered on the menu that Steve is reading off.

“Bucky,” God, he loves hearing his name from you. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to.” Your foreheads are much closer now, leaning in like the two of you are sharing some secret.

“Thank you,” She almost whispers, taking a deep breath before turning her hand up and squeezing his that sits atop hers. He slides his hand off but keeps it close by as she opens the little box. In it is a small gold opal ring with simulated diamonds and an antique feel, twinking within the little box up at her. Bucky sears the look on your face into his memory, the way your mouth is slightly open as you gasp, your eyes taking in every facet of the ring with one hand on your chest with a bit of a watery look from his angle. “Bucky, it’s perfect.” Her gaze meets his again, a little more flustered now. “It’s too much though, Bucky.”

“No, doll. It isn’t. You do so much for all of us. I looked it up and you know how long you’ve been pushing my paperwork? Since I joined here after Thanos. I just handed my paperwork to Steve. If I had known how pretty my analyst was, I would’ve been messing up my reports left and right. You just make me wanna be around you more. And I know you can handle my grumpy ass since you’ve dealt with Clint and Steve for years at this point. Please accept it, doll. When I went to the bakery yesterday I passed by a little jewelry shop a couple blocks down and it just looked like you, if that makes sense…?” Your hand cupping and caressing his cheek as you just ooze this calm and lovely lightness at his words have him stunned, before blushing and dropping your hand back down to cup the box.

“Thank you so much, James,” Your eyes tear up again, your cute pink tongue darting out to wet your bottom lip. Dear God, he’s done something right to hear his actual name from your lips and to have it sound so fucking sweet that it makes the cupcake he just ate taste like dirt. “It makes perfect sense and I love it.”

“See if it fits. I asked Nat for your ring size,” He urges - he’s eager and not able to hide it, watching as she removes it from the box and slides it onto her right ring finger smoothly. The glee on your face as she turns to him with a surprised gasp is rewarding enough. “Perfect,” Bucky purrs out, taking hold of your right hand as you show it off.

“That’s a nice-looking ring!” Peter says loudly from behind you, making you jump and then playfully swat at him with your full left hand.

“Peter! Keep the sneaky spider skills off around me please!”

“Sorry! Sorry!” His hands are held aloft as he apologizes. “I thought you saw me!”

“I was admiring my birthday gift Bucky got me. It is pretty, isn’t it?” Peter peers over your shoulder again, looking at the ring as you move your finger to catch the light.

“Very pretty,” Peter agrees solemnly as the others chime in, Bucky glaring at them all as she turns both of their hands around to show it off to Natasha, Clint, Sam, and Steve. Your phone chimes with a text message, making you set down the empty gift box and withdraw it from your black dress pants.

“I didn’t realize I’d stayed up here so long! I have to go to work!”

“But do you really though??” Clint interjects as you shoot him a droll look.

“Yes Clint, some of us have to.”

“That hurt, kid. But I’m going to let it go because it is your birthday.”

“Thanks, Elsa.” You say dryly as you hop off the barstool, tucking your empty gift box into your pocket where your phone just was, and carefully reposition your leftover cupcake and cookie in its box. “I’ll see you all later then!” Blushing you lean forward quickly and brush your lips over Bucky’s cheek. “Спасибо, Лев,” Is whispered against his rough cheek before you hurry towards the elevator.

Once its doors slide closed, Natasha is just grinning like the Cheshire cat at him.

“You look a little pink yourself, Barnes,” She purrs, polishing off her juice and running her finger along the rim of the glass leisurely.

“What did she say to you to get you that color, jerk?” Steve asks, happily joining in on Natasha’s ribbing.

“Nothing, you punk -” Bucky is talked over by Natasha, goddamn her.

“She called him ‘lion’,” Natasha says slyly.

“Must be ‘cause of that untamed mane of hair he’s got,” Sam teases as he walks around and flicks a finger at the ends of said hair.

“I can’t stand you assholes,” Bucky mutters, placing his hands flat on the counter and pushing off of it as they all shout how much they like him! as he grabs his wax warmer and heads towards his room, replaying all of your interactions once more in his head. Sitting the little ghost on his nightstand, right beside the bracelet that he planned to give to you at dinner tonight, opening the warmer and giving a soft sniff at each of the boxes as he still reveled in the touch of your skin so much against his this morning. Unfortunately, now he just wants it all the more.

Dinner was delicious! Half of your favorite little Italian restaurant had been transformed with soft pinks and oranges, Bucky had been awaiting you just inside the door with a dazzling smile, he’s sure his eyes are crinkling at the corners when he sees you, making heat flash through him when he sees you. Someone had him seated next to you, thankfully, where he stayed faithfully all night, metal arm slung over the back of your chair after the meal was consumed, desserts now brought out along with the gifts Pepper had strategically put against the back wall behind her. Your leg pressed against Bucky’s feels so natural, so right, he wants to kick himself for all the time he hadn’t been aware of your presence. The waiter brings out mini cannolis and coffee, completing the dessert lineup and disappearing to the back for a bit for you all to continue the celebration.

God, you looked beautiful in the rust-colored dress, the material falling to just below your knees when standing and above your crossed knees while having dinner. You had wonderful legs for it, topped with black wedges, a pretty gold anklet, and a high messy ponytail...all of which had him drooling still. His ring still sits on your right hand, catching the intimate lighting of the restaurant with each gesture of your hand, filling his chest with something so bright it’s nearly bursting within him. Tony takes the gifts from Pepper, passing them down the line of people until they are situated in Wanda’s lap beside you and surrounding your dessert plate in a semicircle.

“Go ahead, babydoll,” He whispers against the shell of your ear, intimate enough for the small but upbeat collective around them, fighting not to do more when he sees your delicate little shiver followed by the slight blush and nod. You’re about to reach for the one closest to your left hand when you pause, turning your pretty little face back towards him. Close enough to kiss.

“Which one is yours?”

“How do you know I got you another one?” He asks with a raised eyebrow and smirk, watching as your eyes go to Natasha across the table before meeting his again, humor written in all the different colors and shades of your eyes. “Tattletales,” Bucky teases you and Natasha before tapping his forefinger against the one beside your near-empty wine glass. It’s a dark blue oblong box with a small, soft blush-colored ribbon around it. Once the ribbon is loose, Bucky watches as you take it and retie it around your ponytail before opening the box to reveal a beautiful gold bracelet that matches your ring from earlier tucked atop the white cottony filling.

“You have excellent taste,” She breathes out, fingers tracing delicately over the medallion and chain. “I love it, Bucky.” His fingers move just under her’s to cup the box, letting her withdraw the bracelet from its confines before sitting it aside his forgotten tiramisu. “Put it on me?”

“Of course,” He purrs, reaching for the gold chain between her fingers. It’s a perfect fit, the opal twinkling up at him from your left wrist.

“It’s beautiful, Bucky. Gorgeous. Really.”

“Not half as beautiful as you, doll,” His reply is fast and soft, eyes staring earnestly into your own. Your right hand comes up to run your fingers along his jawline, an automatic response almost to his soft compliment. A familiar response.

There is a soft clearing of a throat, bursting the bubble around the both of you, making you duck your head and drop your hand rapidly, his metal one shooting out automatically to wrap around it and cradle it in the small space between your two bodies. He doesn’t miss the soft squeeze nor the way your eyes fell to his lips. God, he wants to kiss you - feels almost like he needs it like air. Four days and he’s getting to the point where he doesn’t want to control himself. He wants to fall on his knees and beg to see your soulmate mark or beg her to let him show her his.

Bucky doesn’t know if he’ll make it 31 days honestly.

“Open mine!” Clint orders, leaning across the table to pour more wine in your glass with a knowing smirk at the two of you. Bucky releases your hand so you can open your gifts, glad to have this little almost normal intimacy with you.

Clint’s birthday gift is a pair of soft, fuzzy Halloween socks with a gold necklace with a cute little gold pumpkin charm sat atop them. You give him a look as you hold up the necklace, which just makes him shrug. “I’ll add the charm but you know how attached I am to my silver one.”

“I know, I know…” he chuckles, taking his last bite of cannoli with a wink.

Natasha rolls her eyes, pointing to the first present you had touched before opening Bucky’s.

It’s a gorgeous small onyx obelisk with hieroglyphics and a little wooden stand for it, and a little gold anklet with your name in a cartouche. “Natasha, it’s wonderful,” You breathe out, brushing fingers down the obelisk with silent reverence.

“You’re all over the place, kid,” Tony says fondly, ice clinking in his drink as he stirs leisurely.

“It’s good to have lots of interests,” Bruce agrees as Sam polishes off his third glass of whiskey with a bright grin beside him. Wanda pushes your plate a little more out of the way and sets the next box before you with a knowing and kind smile.

“Mine next!” Pepper calls cheerfully, pointing to the red box with a red ribbon. Inside the fairly large box is a wonderful dark brown purse tucked in the light blue tissue paper, your hand sliding over the well-tooled bag. “It’s imitation leather. I knew you just got a new wallet, so I figured you might need this.”

“It’s sooo soft, Pepper. I - I do and it feels butter soft, thank you so much.” You’re about to move it slightly to the side to continue with the next present when you hear the throat-clearing again from Tony, watching as his eyes dip down to Pepper’s box. You squint a little before reaching for the purse to lift it from its box, a flat Tiffany box under it making your mouth drop open a little as your eyes shoot back to Tony.

“Happy birthday!” Bucky takes the purse gently from your hand, freeing up both hands to reach for the extravagant gift. There are two pairs of earrings, twinkling at you like miniature stars within.

“Holy shit.”

Everything about them screams expensive - and not because of the very recognizable blue box they came in. They looked like something from The Devil Wears Prada or the Met Gala…something too fancy for such a common person like yourself to touch, let alone own.

“It’s just earrings,” Tony says lamely as Bucky’s metal arm wraps around you and tugs you a little closer, uncaring of anything else but chasing away the tears ready to spill over your lash line.

“They’re so pretty,” you sniffle out, scared to actually touch them. “But they’re too expensive. I’d be scared to wear them. I can’t Tony…please return them.”

“I’m not returning them! I picked them out for you. They’re not too heavy and they’re platinum so you can wear them everyday, all day like your other jewelry. They aren’t ostentatious or flashy. I bet no one will even realize they’re from Tiffany’s!” Pepper scowls at Tony, her eyes silently saying ‘This is why I choose her gifts.’

Bucky kisses the side of your head, relishing in the soft apple scent of your shampoo as he whispers to you it’s okay to be spoiled on your birthday. He waits until he gets a jerky nod before he pulls your chair a little closer with his foot and situates you fully on it again.

“No crying,” Wanda and Natasha order simultaneously as Steve hands you a handkerchief, arm stretched around Bucky’s back.

“I’ve just never been treated so well on my birthday. This,” you gesture to the restaurant and gifts. “Is a lot.”

“Well, we like you a lot. I, personally, love your stubborn and smart ass. Natasha does too. But not more than me, so remember that. Obviously Pepper and Tony do too. Steve adores you because I think you scare him a little and Sam has been half in love with you since you helped him with his “Luis” business. Barnes is diving head first into straight up obsession and Rhodey adores all of your SHIELD access and willingness to straight up tell government people off all types to politely fuck off,” Clint finishes by reach across the table, cupping and squeezing the hand that held the Tiffany box. “You’re pretty amazing. Weird, but ya know, amazing kiddo.”

You manage a watery smile, using your free hand to dab under your eyes with Steve’s handkerchief.

“I don’t deserve it, but thanks.”

“You deserve it.” Natasha affirms, smiling so reassuringly. “Who else was going to decide to be the second best friend to a Russian assassin on her first day at SHIELD? Who else spilled coffee all over Ross because he was being a shit about the Avengers Initiative? Or is a little Coulson? Who took out half a floor worth of Hydra slash Strike operatives because ‘these bitches brought a knife to a gunfight’?”

“Tasha, you said you wouldn’t mention my random mumbles while I was killing my former co-workers…” you whine, glaring at her across the table.

“That is not something you hear everyday,” Vision mumbles loudly beside Wanda, making Bruce cough softly.

“There were so many good ones though!” Tony says as Rhodey holds his hands up in surrender and Bruce shakes his head ruefully. “I made him listen to the audio to help figure out who was who afterwards. And because let’s be honest, you and Sam were delivering some gold one-liners.” Sam points at you and then air high fives you from his place beside Natasha with a wide smile as Steve shakes his head in time with Clint.

“Well it was a shit day. Except for Bucky,” you agree slightly, placing the Tiffany box back under the purse. Like hiding a priceless treasure from a looter, it feels like, and then patting Bucky’s flesh hand on the tabletop.

“Except for Bucky?” Bucky, Steve and Bruce repeat in sync.

“Well, umm, yeah. He got to stop taking orders as the Winter Soldier. He got loose from 70 years of brainwashing to go off and discover himself a bit. So while it was a bad day for lots of other people it wasn’t for him. He didn’t murder his best friend and he walked away a mostly free man.”

Bucky snorts at your summation. “I'm not going to tell her she’s wrong. Especially on her birthday.” He grins as your finger comes straight up and you poke at his nice dark blue shirt with each of your points.

“First off, I’m NOT wrong, sir. Secondly, it wouldn’t matter if it was my birthday or not! ‘Cause I’m not wrong. I am rarely wrong, in fact. Ask anyone here.”

“Of course, doll,” He purrs, still grinning as he takes your hand and opens it to kiss your palm, watching transfixed as your face and neck flush, ducking your gaze at his actions.

“I am enjoying this back and forth faaaar too much,” Steve rumbles from the other side, leaning forward to flash you both a knowing smile and wink.

“You didn’t open mine yet!” Sam saves you with his high whine, reaching over to steal Natasha’s full glass of wine.

“Okay. Okay,” You reassure, gently taking your hand back from Bucky and leaning into him to give Steve’s handkerchief back. “This one is yours?” You tap the forest green wrapped one as he nods enthusiastically.

Sam’s gift is a spa package from the place you follow on Instagram and constantly share their posts in hopes of winning a service, so he gets a hell of an enthusiastic thank you. You ooh and ahh over Rhodey’s wonderful charcoal coat that he got you, with dark brown trim inside that matches your new purse from Pepper, even carefully draping it over the back of your chair after a quick modeling of it. Bruce’s is a $100 gift card to your beloved bakery. Vision’s is two lovely cashmere sweaters; one an eggplant color and the other a rust color just a few shades darker than your dress. Wanda has gotten you a drop dead gorgeous black gem crown that you had been gushing over with her at lunch one day, laughing with her at the inside joke as she places it in your hair. Bucky thinks this is how Hades must have felt seeing Persephone as his Queen for the first time. This ethereal breath of life and spring and giving sitting so lovely before him in his darker death colors and stones. Makes all the more sense that she loves fall. His little spooky Fall queen and the former Winter Soldier.

You settle back once you’re done, thanking everyone enthusiastically once more as Tony looks confused at the head of the table.

“Wait a second…where was Cap’s gift?! Huh? Holding out on us Steve? What did you do, get her a car?”

You actually pale a little at Tony’s remark as Steve just flashes a shit eating grin.

“She opened mine already.” There are a few glances towards the pile of gifts carefully stacked and arranged beside your chair and in Wanda’s lap as she shuffles things around. Bucky makes note of the lack of surprise on Natasha and Clint’s faces, surmising he got a lot of help with his gift.

“The basket!” You squeal joyfully as Steve gives a single nod, baby blues fucking twinkling.

“I couldn’t resist giving it early. And Natasha and Clint did help me, telling me things you like.”

“Aww Stevie,” Wait - since when did she call him Stevie? “That’s so sweet, and I did really love everything in my basket. It was perfect, you little sneak.” Steve elbows Bucky out of the way a little to take your hand and kiss it, smiling up at you and fluttering his stupid eyelashes.

“You’ve created another monster,” Rhodey observes as Bucky subtlety kicks his best friend in the shin to get him to release your hand.

“Another?”

“No. Steve is a shit to begin with,” Bucky pout/glares, making you laugh before your hand reaches up to poke his cheek repeatedly in an attempt to get him to smile.

“Last time I checked you were all shits. Except Pepper, Bruce, Rhodey and Vision. They’re my angels.”

Everyone quickly starts pointing at others and overlapping summaries of why so-and-so was more of a shit than they were, letting Bucky dip his head down to kiss your cheek, marveling at your skills of deflection.

“I think you’re a shit too, doll,” He murmurs once more against the shell of your ear, nosing just behind it before you pull away with mirth in your eyes and an entrancingly smug smile.

“Why do you think I get along so well with everyone?” Steve and Bucky both burst out laughing at your words, Clint and Natasha calling for an ending evening toast.

“Let’s blow this popsicle stand!” Tony announces loudly, standing quickly from his seat with a bottle of something firmly in his left hand.

“Don’t you mean capcicle?” Sam snickers out as Rhodey tries to swallow his ill timed drink before he chokes or coughs it out.

“Tell me we all don’t fit together,” You insist as you rise, Bucky following your movement eagerly before reaching for your new coat to help you into it. Everyone shuffles around you two, stopping to give quick kisses and hugs to you before they all head back to the Tower, Bucky carefully noting that Vision, Wanda, and Natasha have gathered your other presents and wisked them away from the table - leaving the two of you now blissfully alone.

“You’re right,” Bucky affirms with an easy grin.

“And you’re smart, Sarge.” You chuckle, poking him in the chest once playfully as he shrugs into his own coat. You nearly trip trying to get around the chair he was sitting in, his hands shooting out quickly to steady you, lifting you with ease and turning around quickly so your back is now to the entrance of the restaurant.

“Careful, doll,” Bucky whispers, still holding firm to you, chest to chest as your cheeks pinken.

“I’m trying but you make it so difficult, Bucky.” He knows you meant in regards to the mystery soulmate gift giver - to the thing that is blossoming between them quickly and deeply - but he can’t help but smile gently down at you.

“Did you have a good birthday?” Her hands slide up his forearms and come to rest at his chest fingers tracing faintly along his jacket’s lapel stitching as a soft, bright smile comes back to your lips.

“The best.”

“Good,” He mutters before dipping his head down to capture those soft lips.

He’s been waiting since he laid eyes on you for this moment...to feel how soft your lips are against his. How perfectly they mould with his. How sweet they would taste.

Your fingers slide up, one hand sliding along the nape of his neck and into those soft hairs there as the other hand splays across his upper back as you cling to him. You give a soft, tiny moan - opening up for him to plunder as your hand tightens slightly in his hair, a noise emerging from his throat at the action that you swallow down. Bucky’s hearing detects someone coming close, stopping and then quickly walking away, but Bucky is too involved to check, your mouth pulling away from his just after and pressing a few soft kisses to the corner of his mouth and along his jawline.

“Babydoll,” He breathes out, looking down at your serene expression, still so gorgeous with your crown and kiss swollen lips.

“Don’t,” You whisper, brushing your finger along his jaw as the other plays with the long strands by his right shoulder. “Just wait until after Halloween. Please.”

He’s torn by your words.

He wants it to be you. Wants to prove to you that he’s your soulmate.

And he honestly didn’t want to wait until the 31st. He wasn’t sure he was strong enough.

“If that’s what you want,” He finally manages to get the words out and plaster on a small smile, feeling you relax slightly in his arms at his acquiescence.

“I want you, James. But I don’t want to get in anyone else’s way.” Bucky gives a barely there nod before setting you down, taking your hand in his flesh one.

“Let me walk you home, doll.”

The relief written in your eyes and face as you wrap your free hand around his bicep, giving him a smile in return as you two exit the restaurant and out into the slight bite of the fall evening.

“I’d love that, Sarge.”

[october 5th]

tagging: @chelsea072498 @clockworkmorningglory @sakurablossom4 @galaxiesinmymind @mizzezm

note: jewelry was found on etsy and is very reasonably priced! ;)

#bucky x reader #authoressskr writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes soulmate au #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #i'm a few days behind posting this #whoops

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lillywillow · 3 years

Text

Game On

Summary: Sam discovers the couple that plays together, stays together

Word Count: 1054

Square Filled: “I’m turning into you. It’s like a horrible dream.”

Pairings: Sam Wilson x Reader

Warnings: Competitiveness, mild suggestions

Written for @star-spangled-bingo

Once again thank you to @yavanna80 for being my Beta reader.

It was no mistake that you and Sam were competitive when it came to... well anything. Sport, missions, board games, how fast you were to complete a certain task; you were both determined to win. However, when you did win, Sam was more dignified and sassy whereas you were more of a gloating moron. When you lost, you were a sulking jerk but Sam would accept the loss with grace (well, depending on who his opponent was). This was the reason nobody wanted to play with you at anything.

Today, you decided to have a day playing video games. Fortunately, everyone else was busy so that meant you were free to play in the living room without annoying everyone with your semi constant yelling at the TV and occasional throwing of the controller (you had broken a few in your time).

“Hey, baby,” Sam greeted as he cautiously sat down next to you.

“Hi, sweetie,” you smiled, your eyes never leaving the screen.

Sam watched as you smashed the buttons on the controller to create combos and defeat your digital opponent. You jumped up victorious.

“Yeah! That’s how it’s done!” you exclaimed while fist bumping the air.

Sam chuckled at your enthusiasm.

“What?” you asked surprised as your gaze fixed on him.

“Nothing... I’m just wondering if maybe they went easy on you,” Sam smirked.

“What are you saying?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m not saying anything... but maybe if you had a better opponent...” Sam raised his hands but his smirk was present.

“Are you challenging me?” you fired back, your eyes narrowing at him.

“Maybe...”

“Well, bring it on, princess,” you smirked.

Sam loved the fire in your eyes as you got up to grab a second remote.

“You’re going down, Wilson!” you hollered.

“Don’t count on it!” he defied back.

You set up the game with two player and began. It started out with just the one but as time went on, you branched out with your game types from fighter, to racing to sport. The trash talk became filthier (without overstepping your boundaries of course) and talk of bets were flying about. The bets were small at first like doing each other’s chores for a week to very personal bets that were just for the two of you alone so maybe it was best that everyone else was busy so they couldn’t overhear exactly what was said.

Before you knew it, you had played the whole day away with Sam winning the final round.

“Yes! In your face! In your face!” Sam gloated, performing a victory dance.

For once, you actually didn’t mind losing because it meant you got to see this interesting side of your boyfriend. Sam paused his movements the second he realised what he was doing and turned to see you looking at him with an amused expression when the realisation hit him.

“Oh... no... I’m turning into you. It’s like a horrible dream...”

“Well maybe it’s like pets and their owners,” you shrugged.

Sam looked at you for clarification.

“You know how pets tend to take after their owners? Maybe it’s the same with couples... they start to blend into each other after a while...” you trailed off as you looked at him with an amused expression.

“So who’s the pet here, Y/N? You or me?” he asked, hands on his hips.

You stood up and draped your arms over his shoulders.

“You won the last one, so you tell me. You were so big and strong, sweat glistening on your skin, veins bulging... so manly,” you purred.

“You’re no slouch yourself, sweetheart. That trash talk of yours got me feeling some kind of way; you know what I’m saying?” he smirked, placing his hands on your waist only to go down to your hips, softly pulling you closer.

“Yeah, well you taking me down the way you did in that last round; so hot,” you breathed out, your fingers tracing his biceps and going down to his prominent forearms.

“And you... look what we’re doing. We’re arguing over who’s the better player...” he chuckled.

You smiled at the awareness of the situation and shook your head.

“You know what? We’re both awesome. Now as you won the last round, I believe you have some debts to collect?”

“Damn right I do,” he smirked, chasing you to the bedroom.

...

The following day, Sam had arranged a doubles match with you, Bucky and Nat. The pair had only agreed to play because they were under the impression that maybe Sam was a good influence on you, teaching you about good sportsmanship. Oh, how very wrong they were.

“Come on, babe. Let’s wipe the floor with losers,” you smirked.

“You got it, baby,” he smirked back.

“Oh, god, now there’s two of them,” Bucky grumbled.

“We’ll just have to beat them then, won’t we?” Nat shrugged.

“Yeah but you know what Y/N is like. One little loss and it’s like the end of the world,” Bucky grumbled, wanting to be anywhere but the living room, his face looking dejected.

“Would you prefer that to the gloating?” Natasha raised an eyebrow at him inquiringly.

Bucky remained silent for a few moments.

“Well?” the red head pressed.

“I’m thinking!” Bucky groaned, a bit flushed in embarrassment.

It really didn’t matter either way but he supposed it would be nice for once to be the one doing the gloating.

“Let’s whip their butts!” Bucky exclaimed in glee.

Nat grinned at him and got into position.

The two former assassins proved to be very worthy contenders but in the end you and Sam ended up being the victors by two points. You of course rubbed in your win with dances, gloating and maybe a rude gesture or two on your part. Nat and Bucky skulked away with Bucky muttering under his breath something about knowing it was a mistake to play against you.

“We did it, baby! We won!” you cheered.

“We sure did!” Sam grinned, giving you a high five.

In the end, it only went to show that the couple who plays together, stays together.

#ssb2021 #Marvel #sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel one shot #Game On #playful relationship #competitiveness #video games #playful teasing #Mild Suggestions

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wndrcarol · 4 years

Text

daddy’s favorite | ceo!c.d. | part 4

prev. parts — one | two | three

summary: working for your fathers company has its perks. But one of those perks is being able to gain connections.

a/n: the long awaited part four! no, no smut (yet ;) ) buT here’s some more filler and a lil surprise at the end lmaO. I hope you guys enjoy and sorry for any typos! x

au: CEO

pairings: Carol Danvers x F!Reader (Stark!R)

other characters in chap.: Sam Wilson, Tony Stark

warnings: some teasing ahem 👀 but nothing too serious

———

You genuinely didn’t know what was going on now. It had been a couple days since .. that happened and you just left confused on what the next move was from either you or Carol.

The following days from that night, you had been in contact with her as she would call you about contracts and what to ask your father for clarification but that would be all. You usually would be short with her on the phone and she immediately took the hint that something was wrong.

It didn’t feel good to know that something went sideways that night. Carol kept thinking back and wondering if she had been too bold but for some reason she couldn’t help it. But of course, maybe she shouldn’t have pushed it onto you.

Your father had planned for a meeting to happen between his board and Carols which meant you’d have to see her and it only put a bit of pressure on you.

Dialing the phone in your office, it rang twice before the line was picked up. “IT Department” Sam said as a small smile grew on your face.

“Hey nerd, I was just checking to see if the screens working in the conference room since it was having trouble earlier” you said as you heard him chuckle on the other end.

“You should be lucky that I like you enough that I let the name ‘nerd’ pass” he said as you felt your face heat up a bit. “The screen should be good to go. Let me know if it freezes or anything, I’ll be up there quick” he finished as you nodded.

“You got it” you smiled as you hung up the phone.

Letting out a breath, you walked over to the conference room, walking in and taking a seat next to your father as you waited for Carol and her team to walk in.

“Everything alright?” Your dad asked, turning towards you as you looked at him, smiling and nodded.

“Yeah, all good” you said as he looked at you a bit longer, seeing right through your lie but not wanting to push you. Giving you a soft smile he patted your hand lightly before hearing the door open.

Looking up, you see Carol smiling as he team walked in before her eyes met yours. You stayed looking at each other before looking down at your notepad, fidgeting with the pen ontop of it as your father stood up to shake her hand.

“Carol. It’s good to see you” Tony said, as she smiled and shook his hand before letting go.

“You as well. Glad to be here” she said as she quickly looked over at you and felt that small guilt rise up in her again. Looking away, she smiled at everyone before taking a seat nearest to her that was empty.

“So” you father said as everyone else sat down and opened their folders with the presentation slides. “Let’s get started” he smiled at Carol as she nodded, opening her file and standing up. Her slideshow popped up on the big screen as she began to go over the percentages and recent benefits that the companies have had.

The whole meeting seemed to drag along. You couldn’t bring yourself to look up the presentation at the fault of meeting eyes with Carol. You took notes every once in a while as you thought about approaching her to clear the air. Part of you missed her flirty and cocky nature but the other part of you knew that confrontation was going to have to happen if you wanted that energy back.

“Uh” You heard Carol pause as she kept trying to click the remote to change the slide but it stayed stuck as you looked up and saw the screen freeze and glitch a bit.

“It’s been freezing up all morning” you said, standing up insitinctly and went up to Carol, motioning for the remote in her hand. Pausing, she looked at you a hit stunned as you were stunned at your quick actions before you registered what you were doing.

Putting your hand down, you chuckled before putting your hand out again. “May I?” You asked as Carol placed the remote in your hand softly, still staring at you. You broke eye contact as you felt everyone’s eyes on you and began fiddling with the remote, eventually getting the screen to turn off from its glitched state.

“I’ll have IT look at this. In the meantime, the slides are on the file” you father said, looking at you before looking around the table then to Carol. He found that interaction a bit weird and his fatherly instincts had heightened a bit, feeling like something was happening but ultimately brushed it off.

“Yes” Carol started, clearing her throat before facing the people around the table with a smile. “It’s all on the folders. I was meant to show the last slide but I guess the screen doesn’t like good news” she chuckled as everyone else began to chuckle a bit.

“That’s good to hear! I guess the meeting is done. Thank you all for coming” you father smiled as everyone began to pack up.

You stepped aside and pulled out your phone, sending Sam a quick text about the screen freezing up, just as he predicted, you quickly revived a response.

Sam: alright, the nerd will check on it for you ;)

Smiling down at your phone, you quickly composed yourself and cleared your throat as you looked up and saw Carol’s eyes on you while she was talking to someone you didn’t recognize. Pulling her eyes away, she smiled at the man infront of her and shook his hand before packing up her bag on the desk.

Clearing your throat, you felt as though this was your opputunity. Time to clear the air between you both. Grabbing your things from where you sat at the table, you walked over to Carol, tapping her on the shoulder and catching her attention quickly.

“Ms. Danvers, can I speak to you privately about something?” You asked which caught the attention of your father as well from behind you as he was in conversation with his colleague.

Taken aback, Carol nodded her head slowly before fully comprehending what was happening.

“Uh, y-yeah sure” she said as you smiled before following you out the conference room and over to your office. Tony watched you both and couldn’t help the feeling that feeling come back to him. He pushed it to the back of his mind as he went back to the conversation, smiling but his mind began to race a bit.

Walking over to your office, you let out a nervous sigh as you walked in, motioning for Carol to take a seat to which she shook her head as you sat down behind your desk.

“I’m alright, thank you” Carol smiled at you before looking down at the floor. Right when she began speaking, you began at the same time before your both laughed.

“Please” Carol said, feeling her hands get a bit sweaty from how nervous she was.

“Thank you. I um-“ you started, pausing before leaning your arms up against your desk. “I want to talk about the other night. Carol, I-“ you started but Carol shook her head and cut you off.

“I want to apologize for that. I don’t know what came over me. I just want to say I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable in anyway from my actions and-“ she continued on as it was your turn to shake you head

“No it’s just-“ you started, cutting her off and sighing while looking away “It took me a bit by surprise” you chuckled as Carol nodded lightly before walking over to the desk and taking your hand in hers and giving it a slight squeeze.

Looking up at her, she was looking at your hands before looking back at you. “To say I’m not attracted to you would be a lie” she started, smiling at you as you chuckled.

“But, I won’t do anything in that matter anymore if you don’t want me to. I’m sorry if I over stepped anything” she said, squeezing your hand lightly as you smiled at her, placing your other hand ontop of hers just staring at her.

“Thank you” you said, rubbing your thumb lightly against the back of her hand. It felt nice having her hand in yours. As cliche as it sounds, it felt as though it fit perfectly and it only made your stomach feel light butterflies.

“I too can say that you are very attractive” you chuckled as Carol let out a soft laugh before you stood up, letting go of her hand. Carol frowned a bit from the loss of touch, she felt happy on the inside just holding your hand.

“And if you let me” you said, grabbing her hand again and pulling it to her side as you stepped close to her. Carol’s breathing hitched as she watched her movements. She could feel your breath lightly fanning her face as a smirk grew on your face. Her body pressed against your desk, the complete opposite of how it was the other night.

“I want to show you an apologize for keeping you on your toes for so long” you said, leaning in before placing a small kiss against her jawline. Your free hand moved to grip her hip and she couldn’t help the small moan that came out of her. Closing her eyes, she relaxed her body as you continued to let kisses down her neck before pulling back to look at her.

“What do you think of that?” You smirked as she opened her eyes to look at you, a small smile growing on her lips. You started to lean in to press your lips against hers but you were interrupted by the door opening.

“Hey, (Y/N) I just came to tell you-“ Sam paused as he saw the scene infront of him as his eyes grew wide. “Holy shit”

———

yup, a cliffhanger 🤪

taglist: @marvelbbyx @mynameispurple @sat-yrr @antiant-inferno @natasha-danvers @depressed-bi-bitch @cpt-bolter @fayhar @thatssocamryn @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all

feedback is appreciated!

#carol danvers #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers imagine #carol danvers one shot #captain marvel #captain marvel x reader #captain marvel imagine #captain marvel one shot #sam wilson #tony stark #mine.txt #wndrwriting #daddy’s favorite fic

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fleurdelouve · 3 years

Text

5+1??

Question on SarahBucky Month:

What's 5+1? Its on week 3, day 5. I'm planning one larger fic per week and was wondering...

Thanks for explaining!

Answer: A 5+1 fic is a trope that uses the framework of "Five Times Something Happened (and One Time It Didn't)" or conversely "Five Times Something Didn't Happen (and One Time It Did)"

You write up five different scenes/scenarios that are all similar and then flip it for the one on it's own.

"Five Times Bucky Barnes Didn't Tell Sarah Wilson He Loved Her (and One Time He Did)" would be a Fleur de Louve specific example.

I hope that made sense! Please let me know if you need further clarification!

#fleur de louve #submission #five and one fics #btwxsixesandsevens #answered asks

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letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked · 4 years

Text

Words On My Skin Chapter 30

Bucky Barnes X Reader (Soulmate AU)

A/N: I guess it takes a quarantine and deadly virus for me to start writing again, huh? LOL! TAGS WILL BE REBLOGGED ON THIS EVENTUALLY! I have like... a whole year of tag requests to sort through! So... Sorry LOL

Warnings: Be gentle... I’m rusty at writing lol

Main Masterlist // WOMS Masterlist

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

Y/n: I'm on my way back! Happy is driving me! I'll tell you the details when I get home! I got you a surprise! <3

Bucky: I'm in the room, doing paperwork. Steal one of Steve's granola bars for me, please and thank you and I love you.

Y/n: I'm not taking the fall again if he catches me!

Bucky: He's out with that one blonde chick we don't like.

Y/n: Ew. Why???

Bucky: Why do you think?

Y/n: Ew. She looks like she has crotch crickets. Plus she was a bitch to me last time she was here. I tried to be nice. I think she's in it for his fame... and the D.

Bucky: ...that's disgusting.

Y/n: I'm making him an appointment for an STD check.

Bucky: He's going to kill you.

Y/n: He'll thank me when his dick doesn't fall off

Bucky: He's going to make you do more cardio.

Y/n: ...Okay, yeah, I'll just let his dick fall off. LOL fuck cardio

Bucky: You seemed to enjoy last night's cardio. ;)

Y/n: That was more like naked yoga... with a happy ending! Totally different!

Bucky: We can do naked yoga anytime you want.

Y/n: I'll take naked yoga over cardio all day every day

Bucky: All day every day? ;)

Y/n: Shut up, fool. <3

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Placing your phone back into your purse, you stared out the window, watching the busy streets blend into trees and snow. Stupid snow. You were lost in your own head, thinking about the meeting with your parents. Which had gone... surprisingly well.

Your mother was fairly civil to you - as well as the waitstaff - and your father actually had a serious conversation with you.

It was one of the weirdest days of your life... and you lived with a bunch of superheroes.

Seeing your parents like this, after so many years of loathing, arguing, controlling... You weren't sure where your relationship stood.

Though, it was nice to gain at least a little clarification and get everything out in the open.

They'd apologized for the way they treated you in your youth, as well as the way they treated Bucky. You'd apologized for all the shit you'd said to them before you'd moved away, as well as keeping them pushed away in your adult years. The excuses your mother had for acting like a controlling robot were just... sad. She talked about how your grandmother treated her the same - if not worse. She was the way she was because she wanted you to be better than her. No wonder you've never actually met your grandparents in person. Your mother hated her parents. Almost as much as you'd hated yours... until now.

Now... You just had sympathy. Not that it excused any of the behaviors over the years, but you understood now.

It seemed as if she'd convinced herself that the way that she raised you made you the positive person that you were, today. Which was true to some extent. It was recovering from the way you were raised that made you the person you were today. You may have been comfortable with money, but money wasn't everything behind closed doors. Money didn't solve the problems that you'd dealt with in your youth. In fact, it was living the stereotype of a rich family that had caused the majority of your problems. It was the cold, brash emotions modeled by your parents that made you want to be different. The controlled diets, the need to hide emotions and compartmentalize, the forced dating, the fights, the lying, the fake public image... it was dealing with those things after you'd escaped it that made you the person you are today.

Personal growth, and all that jazz.

After the emotional bit of the dinner, you'd actually enjoyed yourself. Your parents asked you about your job, the first day you met Bucky, college, your friends, and everything else they hadn't been a part of for the last decade or so.

They told you about their trip to Paris, where your mother had tripped over a crack in the pavement and they spent half the day in the emergency room so she could get stitches. They told you about how they got their entire office to donate a large sum of money to Bucky's charity that he had been running. They told you about the day that they realized that they needed a change of scenery from California.

It was almost... normal.

If you even knew what normal was.

"Y/n?" You heard Happy's muffled voice, followed by a light tapping on the cool window. He hadn't opened the car door, because your head was leaned against it. "You ready to rock and roll?"

"You're such a dad." You giggled, grabbing your purse and leftovers as he opened the door for you, "Speaking of dads, are you going to become Peter's step-"

"I DON'T-" He paused, taking a breath through his nose and blowing it out of his mouth, "I don't want to talk about that."

"Happy and Mae, sitting in a tree..." You sang, grinning as you skipped past him, "K-I-S-S-I-N-G."

"You're such a child." He rolled his eyes, slamming your door closed and walking to the driver's door.

"You love me, anyways." You pulled open the front door to the compound, leaving Happy to bring the car over to the garage.

You removed your coat the moment you stepped into the heated building, throwing it over your arm and hiding the bag of leftovers and Bucky's surprise. Glancing around, you saw the lobby was nearly empty, save for a few agents using the lobby to cut to the other wing.

Glancing over to the front desk, a grin spread over your face as you took in the sight in front of you.

Caleb was snoring loudly, mouth hanging open, head tipped back, and his feet up on the desk. The book you'd given him for his birthday was open, resting on his stomach like he had fallen asleep reading in his chair.

"FRIDAY, can you please do me a favor and record this please?" You whispered into your watch, sneaking over to the sleeping agent. "Send it to my tablet when it's done."

You were glad you wore flats instead of heels, so your shoes made no noise against the hard floors as you snuck behind the desk. You kept out of swinging distance, grabbing a clipboard off his desk and readying yourself for whatever happened.

"CALEB, WAKE UP!" You screamed loudly, slamming the clipboard repeatedly on the desk. "CALEB, THE SKY IS FALLING!"

He let out a loud shout, limbs flailing around, and chair tipping backwards. "I WASN'T SLEEPING." The obnoxious laugh you let out made his face scrunch up in confusion from the floor, "Y/n?" He glanced around, springing up gracefully and surveying the empty lobby before sending you a glare, "Rude."

You couldn't reply, leaning against the desk and tossing the clipboard in front of him, hysterical laughter echoing through the nearly-empty lobby. "I- You- Oh- Dying." You wheezed, trying to calm your laughter before you peed yourself, wiping the tears from under your eyes, "Oh my god."

"I'm glad my fear brings you such joy, you awful human being." Caleb grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair, "I hate you so much right now."

"I brought you dessert." You replied, finally able to pull your shit together, grabbing a box out of the big bag you were carrying. "It's chocolate and peanut butter cheesecake."

"I hate you less, now. You are forgiven." He lunged forward, a large smile on his face. "Gimme', gimme', gimme'."

You handed him the box, shaking your head and glancing at your watch, "I'm beat. I'm gunna' head up."

"Your soulmate is an asshole, by the way." Caleb informed you, mouth full of cheesecake, "He kept telling me he's going to get Claire an obscene amount of slime for Christmas." He glanced up at you with narrow eyes, "I'll hurt all of you if you get her slime, or anything else with loose glitter. My kitchen table is ruined."

"I cannot confirm nor deny that we got her slime for christmas." You shouted, jogging towards the elevator. "Love youuuuu."

"Fuck youuuuu." He sang back at you, as you disappeared from sight.

"My floor, please, FRIDAY." You requested as the doors to the elevator opened and you got in, "Is Bucky in his room?"

"Yes, Ma'am." FRIDAY replied.

Leaning against the wall, you inhaled deeply through your nose - trying to dispel any weird feelings in your gut. Ever since you'd left dinner with your parents, your shoulders felt lighter... but there was a sense of unease in your belly. You'd never expected in a million years that you'd actually have a relationship with your parents where they communicated with you in a semi-healthy way.

Was this real life?

Honestly, it felt like you were in a simulation or something.

Nothing felt normal anymore.

When the lift doors opened, a wave of delicious smells hit your nose - and you followed the scent to the kitchen, calling out, "Who's cooking delicious-smelling food?"

"That'd be me." Sam called, head in the fridge as he searched for something in the back, "Where the fuck did my strawberries go?"

"That'd be your not-so-little buddy Steve." You chuckled, watching as Sam glared at the fridge before moving back to the stove in a huff. It was actually Bucky, but you weren't about to snitch on your soulmate. "What are you making?"

"God dammit." He grumbled, stirring whatever was in the giant pot, "I'm getting a mini fridge in my room. This 'sharing' business is pissing me off."

"Sam. Food."

He turned to you with a grin, "Momma Wilson's famous lasagna soup."

"They make lasagna in soup form?" You frowned, walking over to the stove to inspect, confirming the fact that he had - indeed - made soup out of lasagna ingredients. It was confirmed by the broken-up lasagna noodles floating up to the surface, and the red sauce littered with spices. God, that smelled good... "Where'd your mom come up with this, and can I have the recipe?"

"Nope. Special made by only me." He shook his head, shooing you away with the spoon. "Go away. You already ate."

There goes getting the granola bar... Sam would totally snitch.

"Save me some for later?" You stuck out your lip in a pout, giving him your best innocent face.

He rolled his eyes, turning away from you and stirring his soup, "We'll see."

You giggled, turning away and walking towards the living quarters with a pep in your step, "I appreciate you."

"Yeah, yeah." You heard him grumble, "Since you do my paperwork..."

"And I do a fabulous job!" You called in sing-song, rounding the corner into the hallway and feeling giddy about bringing Bucky his surprise.

He'd been talking about how he'd been craving French Silk Pie, and you just so happened to spot a few slices left at the restaurant. The manager had recognized you from the photo of you and Bucky at the sushi restaurant and seeing you in that interview, and had offered to slip in a few extra slices of pie for next to nothing... so you'd taken a page from Bucky's book and tipped the staff an obscene amount.

Bucky was going to shit when he saw how many pieces of pie you were coming back with.

"FRIDAY can you unlock the door for me, please?" You called out quietly, listening to the door click as it unlocked. "Thank you." As you pushed open the door, you spotted your handsome soulmate sitting at his desk, sharpening a knife carefully. "You planning on murdering me with that, or what?"

"Ha-Ha. Very funny." He deadpanned, eyes trained on the knife as he examined it, "If I was going to murder you, stabbing you to death would be too messy."

"Comforting." You chuckled, shutting the door behind you and hanging your coat on the back of the door and laying the plastic bag full of food on his bed. You reached behind you to unzip your dress, heading over to his closet to grab a shirt to lounge around in. "I buy you a delicious treat, and you plot my murder."

"If it makes you feel better, I'm also looking at files for the new recruits." He replied, voice sounding really far away. "Jennings looks promising."

You frowned, pulling his shirt over your head. Trying to feel him out through the bond. He seemed... neutral. It was weird. Not upset, but also not happy. Peeking around the corner, trying to be sneaky, you watched him as he read through another recruit file flipping the knife around skillfully. He didn't look tense. He also didn't look like he was concentrating on the file, either.

"Why are you staring at me?" He asked suddenly, not turning around. His hair looked messy, like he'd been running his hand through it.

"Why are you being weird?" You asked, walking over to the bed and grabbing one of the small to-go boxes out of the bag. Setting it on his desk with a plastic fork, you leaned down and wrapped your arms around him from behind - resting your chin on his shoulder. "I got you french silk pie."

He turned his head, pressing a small kiss on your bare arm. "Thanks, sweetheart."

You didn't think you could frown any further, but you were wrong.

He was totally being weird.

"Okay, okay." You moved away from him, sitting on the edge of his bed and grabbing one of the pie slices. "What's wrong with you? What are you hiding from me? You're too... neutral."

"Nothing's wrong with me." He replied, not turning around. "I'm not hiding anything."

Bullshit!

"Lies." You sang out, digging into your piece of pie. "Can't bullshit a bullshitter. Especially when she's connected to you emotionally through a magical soulmate bond." You shoved a bite into your mouth, realizing that you'd grabbed one of the apple pie slices. A pang of annoyance nudged you in the chest, and you rolled your eyes, "You can be annoyed all you want, but that's not telling me what's up with you."

He sighed, leaning his head back for a moment, before spinning around in his chair and giving you a look of annoyance. "If I tell you, will you let up?"

"Maybe." You smirked, taking another bite of pie.

"I..." He looked down, picking at one of the plates in his hand - a nervous tick. "I talked to Tony, today."

Oh.

Oh shit.

You hoped it was a productive conversation. It had to have been, if Bucky wasn't upset. Then again, he was attempting to hide his feelings from you. Maybe it wasn't, and he didn't want to tell you?

You set your dessert down on the bed, leaning forward in interest, "And...?"

"He..." Bucky cleared his throat, not looking at you. "He wants to have us see Dr. Collins." He finally looked up at you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Together."

You smiled, relief washing through you. This was good. If they saw Dr. Collins together, they might get to the root of their issues in a positive way that didn't include destroying the building... one can hope.

So why did Bucky look like someone pissed in his coffee?

"This is good, right?" You asked, confused. "Progress?"

"Yeah." He mumbled, looking back down at the dark, metal plates in his hand. "I guess."

"But...?"

"But-" His leg started bouncing up and down, and you could feel the nervous energy outside of the bond. "I'm a little... afraid about..." He sighed, shaking his head and closing his beautiful blue eyes, "I don't know. Doing all this-" He seemed to be struggling for the right words. "-opening up."

You nodded along as he paused, waiting for him to continue.

"What if... what if he still hates me in the end?" He rushed out, leg still bouncing. "I'm just... I'm so sick of people hating me for something I did when I was... him." He stood up, beginning to pace back and forth, and you had a feeling that he was about to explode. "I'm trying so hard. SO HARD. I..." He stopped, rubbing his hands over his face in frustration. "I just... I hate what he did. I hate this. I don't want to go through all of this just for Tony to still hate me in the end."

He sat back down in his chair, hand running through his growing hair and leaning his elbows on his knees, "I'm just... I don't like this nervous feeling. That's why I was trying to hide my feelings. Because... I don't want to feel them." He looks back up at you, blue eyes full of sadness that hurt your heart. "Sometimes I feel like it's easier being him. He doesn't feel anything, and I barely remember half the shit he did."

"Bucky..." You sighed, standing up and moving to sit on his lap, wrapping your arms around his middle and leaning the side of your head against his shoulder. "It's understandable that you don't want to feel the hard feelings. They suck ass." He snorted at your words, arms wrapping around you, but you kept going, "But you're human. Even if you're a supersoldier with some crazy serum running through your veins, you're human. Feelings make you human. Feelings make you Bucky, instead of him." You looked up at him, as his arms tightened around you. "I'm not going to pretend I'm Dr. Collins and say something irritatingly profound, but... I think you know exactly what Dr. Collins would say."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." He sighed, pressing his face into the top of your head - warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. "He's annoying."

"He may be annoying, but he knows what's up." You chuckled, turning your head so you were looking into his icy eyes, "You know I love you, right?"

"Yeah, I know." He smiled, crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes, "I love you, too."

Shifting around, you moved so your arms were wrapped around his shoulders and your face was level with his, "I brought you french silk pie."

"You spoil me." He grinned, arms around your middle, "How'd your dinner with your parents go?"

You grimaced, rolling your eyes, "It was weird. It kind of feels like those two hours were a dream. I don't believe that my parents actually had a real conversation with me." He raised an eyebrow at you and you huffed out a sigh, "Yeah. Yeah. I'm happy. I'm glad that we can finally talk, but... it's just weird. I don't really know how to process it."

"Finally going to be one big, happy family, huh?" He laughed, poking you in the side. "Like The Brady Bunch?"

"First of all, when the hell did you have time to watch The Brady Bunch without me?" You narrowed your eyes at him, raising a brow in question, "Second of all, there's only three of us."

"I didn't watch it," He rolled his eyes, shaking his head at you before standing and setting you on the bed, turning around and grabbing his container of pie, "I read about it."

"STOP DOING THAT!!" You whined in annoyance, throwing a chunk of your apple pie at him. Oh my god, if he kept fucking doing that... "You need to actually watch these things! Stop reading the plot on Wikipedia! It's not the same!"

"I read faster than I watch!" He took a huge bite of his pie, crumbs falling onto the floor. "I can read the plot in a fourth of the time it would take to watch the whole thing." After another obnoxiously large bite of his pie, he set the container back on the desk, moving towards the bed, "If I try and catch up on all the shows and movies I missed over the last century, I'll be biologically ninety before I'm caught up."

As he moved the bag of containers to the floor, you held the slice of apple pie closer to your chest, "I'm not sharing my pie." You took another bite of the sweet pie, the taste of cinnamon on your tongue. He kept moving closer, and you turned your body away from him holding the pie away from him, "NO! You can't have my pie! You have your own!"

"If you don't put it on the nightstand it's going to be in the bed." He warned, an evil look in his eye. "I'm giving you three seconds."

You yelped, attempting to scarf down the obscenely large and sweet piece of pie as fast as you could.

"Three."

You scrambled away from him, but his arm wrapped around your middle as you continued to shovel the food in your face.

"Two."

"NO!!! I'm TRYING!" You giggled, tossing the fork onto the floor, but unable to reach the nightstand with the container full of whipped cream and a large chunk of pie still sticking in the container. You shrieked out a laugh as he tackled you into the bed, the slice of pie completely smearing all over your face and hair. "BUCKY!!"

"One."

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Part 31 ...coming soon to a Tumblr near you.

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