#already getting wilson's take here
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#house md#james wilson#martha m. masters#gregory house#chicken#screencap#s07e19 “last temptation”#*valiantly tries to ignore the chicken*#(amazed at how bold it is to put serious dialogue right after “and lose $20?" while chicken still in frame. A show)#hello welcome to my fantasy of how masters should've stayed#we could explore what stacy did from a new angle#already getting wilson's take here#see how masters reacts and develops from it longterm how it compares to stacy#would give house more to chew on seeing masters go through it#this is already 3 characters getting development (+ stacy passively)#but could extend to the other ducklings and cuddy#masters was so deliciously set up for more#cant believe she just left#just like stacy I guess#also wilson. shes asking you. can you give a straight answer just once? im begging
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Not Allowed
Pairing: Cop!Bucky Barnes x Receptionist!Reader
Word Count: ~2.1k
Warnings: bad date angst, jealous bucky
Summary: You and Bucky always flirt with each other while at work but it never goes anywhere like you'd hope. You accept a date with another man, causing Bucky to be jealous. He's a cop who is jealous. Nothing will go wrong, right?
Squares Filled: kink: pet names (2021) for @buckybarnesbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
x
You walk through the double doors with a smile on your face because today is another day. You’re alive and that’s the best kind of day. You work for the local police department as their receptionist. You’re the first thing people see when they come in so you have to be on your best behavior.
You set your things down on your desk and quickly get settled in. Besides the Captain, you’re the first one in the building. Every officer that comes in, you greet them with a smile as you log into your computer.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Officer Wilson says when he comes in. He always calls you that since he's often told you how he thinks of you like a little sister. “How was your weekend?”
“Too short,” you chuckle. “Did Sarah get into that college?”
“Yeah, she got the acceptance letter yesterday.”
“Oh, I’m so happy for her!” you grin.
“Yeah, I’ll tell her to give you a call.”
Sam taps your desk twice and leaves to go to his own. A few more officers come in until the one you’ve been waiting for walks in confidently. Your heart starts to race because you have a huge crush on him. He kind of knows it but doesn't outright call you out on it.
“There she is,” Bucky smiles and leans on your desk.
“Officer Barnes, it’s good to see you.”
“Doll, you know you can call me Bucky.”
He knows exactly what those pet names do to you. After a night of drinking together, you let it slip that your kink is pet names, and doll happened to be your favorite. Like him, you won’t call him out on it.
“I know. How was your weekend?”
“Better if you were there with me,” he flirts.
“Oh, Bucky,” you chuckle nervously. “You don’t mean that.”
“Yeah, I do. I was wishing, ‘Man, don’t I wish Y/N was here with me? I guess I have to drink alone’.”
“You know what alcohol does to me.”
“Yeah, I do,” he smirks. “You look cute today. That dress compliments you.”
“A compliment. I might swoon,” you joke even though your cheeks are hot.
“As long as it’s in my arms, I don’t care.”
“Don’t you have a job to get to, Officer Barnes?”
“Yeah, but I’d rather stay here and talk to you.”
“You might get fired.”
“It’s worth it,” he winks. “Here’s your coffee.”
He sets your favorite coffee order next to your keyboard and walks away. That’s the extent of your relationship with Bucky. You two flirt constantly but nothing ever comes of it. It’s comfortable. Why leave something when you’re comfortable being there? Do you wish you were something more? Of course. Do you think he’s going to man up and take it to that next level? Not unless something threatening happened like him realizing if he doesn’t do it soon, he’d lose you.
Some of what your work includes is printing off documents for the other officers, inputting things into evidence before they get shipped off there, and sorting through the files regarding the people they have locked up in the holding cells or interrogation rooms. You already have a list of things to print out and file, but you look for Bucky’s name first.
After printing off what he needs, you get up and personally hand this to him. There is a mailbox for the officers that you’re supposed to put in, but you like visiting his desk. He has a picture of you and him printed out and placed next to his computer that you look at every time you visit.
“Here are the papers you asked for,” you smile.
“Thanks, doll,” he grins and grabs them from you, intentionally brushing his fingers against yours.
You go back to your desk to finish your work, and you come across two people who need stuff put into evidence. One of them sent it over a couple of hours ago, and the other one is from Bucky. You immediately click on his name to get what he needs first before looking at the other one.
“Now that is bullshit,” you hear from behind you.
You jump and turn to see Sam standing there with a half-smile on his face.
“What are you doing? You scared me!”
“I sent you evidence hours ago and Bucky sent you it just now, and he’s the one you pick first?”
“I--”
You don’t have any words for that.
“When are you two gonna fuck?”
“Sam Wilson!” you gasp.
“What? It’s a valid question. I should ask him that.”
“Don’t you dare!”
“I’m rooting for you two no matter how painful the slow burn is,” he chuckles and walks away.
It takes half an hour to get the idea of you and Bucky fucking for you to do your job right. Once you’re in the groove of things, the door opens and an attractive man walks in.
“Can I help you?” you ask with a smile.
“Yeah, I’m here for my brother. He’s in lock up.”
“Okay, what’s his name and date of birth?”
“James Farley. 04/05/1986.”
“Your name?”
“Brandon Farley.”
“Okay, I see your brother here. It looks like--”
“I’m sorry, but I have to tell you how beautiful you are.”
“Oh, thank you,” you blush.
“Are you seeing anyone?”
“No, but--”
“Great. Can I take you out?”
“You can see how this is inappropriate, right?”
“Yeah, but you like it,” he grins. “So, can I take you out?”
There’s a certain charm about him that you find endearing maybe because he reminds you of Bucky. Being put on the spot like that is enough to make you freeze up, so you say the one thing that won’t cause conflict.
“Yes.”
“Here’s my number.”
He grabs your hand and writes his number on it so that it won’t come off with one scrub.
“I have sticky notes!”
“This is better. Now you won’t lose it.”
“Go take a seat. Someone will be with you shortly to bring you to your brother.”
“Thanks,” he winks and walks to the waiting room.
You’re about to get up and wash off the number when you notice Bucky standing in the doorway that leads into the precinct.
“Did I hear that right?”
“What?”
“You have a date?”
“Yeah, he asked me out,” you stutter. Bucky looks pissed as if you just told him you killed someone. “Why do you look angry?”
“Nothing. No reason.”
Bucky walks off angrily leaving you confused. He avoids you like the plague for the rest of the day. He isn’t at his desk when you drop off paperwork, and he’s not there to walk you to your car when you get off. He’s supposed to get off an hour before you do, but he stays after not on the clock to make sure you get to your car safely.
This time, he didn’t.
The next day, Bucky is already at work when you arrive. There is no coffee on your desk, either, and you’re feeling guilty for accepting a date with someone else. Is that why he’s acting this way? Sam walks in drinking an energy drink when you stop him.
“Hey, what’s going on with Bucky?”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No, what did I do?”
“You accepted a date from someone else.”
You knew it. Why is he bigging out?
“So?”
“Have you not been here for the past two years? You two flirt like crazy.”
“No, he’s just being friendly.”
“You won’t get it until you do,” Sam shakes his head and walks off.
The date with Brandon comes sooner than you hoped. He picks you up in a fancy car and takes you to a fancy restaurant that you could never afford. He smooth-talks the hostess to get him a table by the window so he can have a view while he eats. The waitress brings by a drinks menu but he already orders what you two are going to drink.
“Trust me, you’re going to love this,” he winks at you.
“Okay,” you say and fiddle with your fingers underneath the table. “You know what I do for work. What do you do for work?”
You shouldn’t have asked him that.
“I work in the telecommunications sector. You know that big building in the city? That’s mine. It’s funny. I got all my parents’ money when they died and instead of using that money for myself, I decided to invest in a small company that turned out to give me millions.” You open your mouth to speak but he continues talking. “Can you imagine that? This small company that wasn’t going to go anywhere if it weren't for me. I’m like their hero. They eventually sold their part to me, and I’ve been thriving ever since.”
Once he got to talking about his job, he hasn’t shut up about it since. He’s very arrogant and rude but that doesn’t seem to stop him. As soon as the drinks come, you greedily take yours and down it without caring what it is.
“Whoa, doll, calm down. I don’t need to haul you to the car at the end of the night. You should pace yourself.”
No one can call me that but Bucky. Oh, Bucky. You shouldn’t have said yes to this man. He only asked you out to hear himself talk. You want this date to end so you pretend to be interested in what he has to say. Even when the date is over and he’s driving you home, he won’t shut up. His voice mixed with alcohol is starting to make your head throb.
About halfway to your house, you see red and blue lights behind you.
This better not be him, you think to yourself. Brandon pulls the car over obediently and waits for the officer to approach him. You look through the mirror to see the outline of the officer and recognize it immediately. He better not. I swear to God… Instead of walking to the driver’s side door, Bucky walks over to your door and leans down so only you can see him.
“Step out of the vehicle, please.”
“No.”
Bucky takes a deep breath to calm himself down. He leans in so close that you can smell his delicious cologne. That makes your head spin.
“I’ll repeat myself. Step out of the car.”
“Or what? You’re gonna drag me out?”
“Don’t tempt me, doll,” he says so only you can hear it.
“Is there a problem, Officer?” Brandon asks.
“Yes. You have a busted taillight.”
“Fuck! You’ve got to be joking, sir.”
“No, sir, I’m not.”
“Shit. Officer, I can promise you I keep this car in the utmost pristine condition.”
“Not today, buddy. That’s a ticket.”
Bucky takes out his pad and writes Brandon a hefty ticket for a broken taillight you’re not sure is even broken.
“Fuck!” Brandon turns to you without guilt on his face. “Look, do you mind if I drop you off right here? Your house is only down the road. You can get there from here, right?”
Your mouth drops open in shock.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take her home,” Bucky offers.
“Thank you. I’ll call you.”
You don’t say anything as you get out of the car. Bucky walks you to the passenger side of his cruiser. You look at the taillights of Brandon’s car and notice they’re both working properly.
“What the fuck, Bucky?” you yell when he gets in the driver’s seat. “His taillights are broken! You can’t just do that. That’s illegal!”
“He’ll fight against it, and I’ll drop the charges,” he shrugs.
“You’re un-fucking-believable. We were actually having a good time,” you lie.
“No, you weren't,” he laughs.
“How do you know that?”
“It’s written all over your face. Your eyes don’t have the usual light.” Bucky pulls onto the road and heads in the direction of your house. “I don’t know why you would accept the date in the first place.”
“Because at least he had the fucking balls to ask me.”
That puts the entire car ride into a tense silence. He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the ride home. He pulls up to your place but instead of letting you get out first, he gets out and walks over to your side of the car. He opens the door but doesn't let you leave the car. He leans into the car, grabs your chin, and kisses you. You’re shocked but you won’t pull away from him. Both your lips move in harmony against one another, and he slides his tongue into your mouth to show you he means business.
“You’re not allowed to see other men.”
“Why not?” you ask, breathlessly.
“Because you’re mine now and I’m not gonna let you go.” This brings a smile to your face. He lets you get out, and when you pass by him, he taps your ass lightly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Doll.”
Yes, you will.
x
Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fan fic#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fiction#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes angst#marvel#marvel fanfiction#marvel fic#marvel fan fiction#marvel fanfic#marvel fan fic#mcu#marvel fluff#mcu fanfiction#marvel fiction
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Uncle Buck
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Single Aunt!Reader
Summary: You take your nephew to a Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson Q&A event. The mischievous 8-year-old asks if he can get in line to ask a question. Against your better judgement you agree and let him go up by himself.
Word Count: 626
Masterlist: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six
A/N: I had no intention to write anything on this account but here we are. Excuse the mess.
A young boy - 8 years old, dark hair and eyes full of mischief - walks up to the microphone.
"Hi, I have a question for Bucky..." He asks shyly.
The moderator nods, "What's your question for him, little man?"
The boy looks over at the seats nearby behind him and smirks, turning back to the stage with some more confidence this time.
"Will you marry my Aunt?"
The crowd let's out collective gasps, giggles, and awws. There's some cheering and a loud "OW OWWWW."
You inhale quickly and choke on your own air supply, trying to compose yourself. "BENJAMIN!!!"
You're horrified and shrink down in your seat while pulling your hood up over your head for added cover.
While you contemplate the fastest way to snatch the little traitor and get out of there as swiftly as possible you hear Sam's loud laugh echo through the room.
"I assume that was your Aunt and you're Benjamin?" Bucky asks while smirking.
Tiny traitor nods while grinning ear to ear. "I'm Benji, Auntie's name is Y/n and she thinks you're sooo handsome," he exaggerates with an eye roll, "and she's super fun and pretty and you'd be the coolest unc--"
Exit plan secured you jump out of your seat and rush over to cover his mouth and pull him back from the mic. Your hood still up and head ducked down.
"You said you were asking about the mechanics of his arm, you tiny little punk," you mutter at him but the microphone still picks up what you said.
While you have him secured in a headlock you quickly speak into the mic, avoiding all eye contact. "I apologize, I've never met this child before... I'm going to return him to the proper authorities immediately."
Picking your nephew up as quickly as you can, you toss him over your shoulder. His fit of giggles exploding while he tries yelling out again, "But he hasn't answered yet!"
"He's free later tonight, Aunt Y/n!" Sam shouts while you retreat to the back of the conference room towards the exit. "Your future family seems nice," he jokes while nudging Bucky's arm.
Benji tries to shout back across the room, "SHE IS FREE TOO!! EVERY NIGHT!!"
You shove the exit door open, "You're so dead. On my pick up days for school I will be blasting every embarrassing song I can find with the windows down. I'm going to start saving now and I will be buying every ad space available in your future yearbooks and I will be plastering them with your baby photos. And not the cute ones." Like this kid ever took a photo that wasn't cute.
***
The two of you walk around a food truck area set up outside the conference space. Benji is happily eating a pretzel you only bought so your sister wouldn't kill you for neglecting her child. You grab a seat at a small table to people-watch while he finishes up his undeserved treat.
You let your hood down, setting your vibrant and wild hair free. The color is easy to pick out in a crowd.
Benji is explaining in great detail the plot to a video game he has been playing with his friends and how one level keeps tripping them up.
The chair next to you slides back, "Is this seat open?" A deep voice asks.
Benji grins, "Yes!"
You already know who it is, but you're still startled when you look over and see none other than Bucky Barnes sitting with you and the small trouble matchmaker.
"So... is the potential cool Uncle position still available?" He smirks, hand on his chin looking over at both of you.
This little punk might be getting free pretzels and ice cream for life.
Alright folks! By popular demand, here is part 2!
Uncle Buck Returns
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#marvel fic#bucky fanfiction#bucky barnes x fem!reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes imagine#uncle buck fic
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My Father's Daughter pt 14
Summary: Dick and the others have finally caught up to Y/n and her "Red Team", but have they gotten there too late?
Dark.
That's all you saw, just darkness. You felt like you were floating in a sea of pitch black water, unaware but uncaring at the immense peril you were in. You floated, faintly hearing a noise in the background, something telling you to wake up and fight. But you wanted to ignore it, it felt good. Good to just float, not worrying about a thing.
But then there was a light.
A piercing bright light that hurt your eyes as you stared into it. And a ringing. A ringing that made your eardrums feel as if they were about to burst.
"Hello."
Who the fuck was that?
"Who the fuck are you?" You say with a hoarse voice, still not grasping the situation you were in.
"Such a foul mouth." The man tskd, " The signature of a Stark I guess."
You look around and feel the restraints on your wrists and ankles. You look down to see that you're splayed out on a table.
"That, unfortunately, shall be the first thing to go."
Panic floods your body.
You finally realized what is happening.
They got you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
" What do you mean she's gone?!"
Christine screams at the her children, " She- She was just here! She was in her room! She was safe!"
Dick looks up from the ground, feeling like he was twelve again, " Mom they.. they just came from nowhere. We had just gotten there when they attacked.."
Bruce was already making his way towards his suit, Dick and Jason had burst into the house, rushing the battered Peter, Wade, and Dopiender.
They were all caught off guard when they had finally found you, literally across the street only to see a group of armed men dressed in black descend on your unsuspecting friends.
They took out who they thought would be the biggest threat, Wade Wilson.
Or at least they tried to. They first shot him in the chest, hoping that the blast would take him out of the game, but to no luck. He flew back allowing them to shoot you with a tranquilizer, but he quickly rose and started firing back. It was only when they got him with a headshot that he went down and stayed down.
Peter, although he didn't have his suit, tried his best to get to you dodging multiple tranquiliser darts and managing to knock a few of them men to the ground. He was however overwhelmed and swiftly knocked out by a hit to the back of the head.
Dopinder actually managed to kill two men before he was shot in the arm and passed out from the blood.
By the time the shock from it all wore off and the Bat crew rushed to the scene, it was all over.
You were gone, and weren't even able given the chance to defend yourself.
The sight of your limp body being carelessly lifted haunted Jason's mind. He chased the SUV for twelve blocks before he lost them. By the time he made it back to the abduction spot, Peter had woken up and was panicking.
His best friend had just gotten kidnapped and he was being interrogated by Nightwing and Robin. Jason, fueled by adrenaline and rage tried to slam Peter into the taxi but was deflected by said boy. Surprising everyone and sending into attack mode.
But before any fighting could happen, Dick came in to be the voice of reason.
They piled into the nasty taxi and headed off back to the Batcave to allow Wade and Dopinder to recover and to think of a plan to rescue you.
"Jason," Bruce said, " What are you thinking?"
Jason looked at him from where he stood, " They were watching us."
Bruce nodded, " They knew she was here the whole time."
Christine stopped her yelling, " What?"
Bruce looked at her, " They knew she was here. That's how they were able to grab her so quickly. They had a plan."
Dick looked angry," We don't even know who these people are! How are we supposed to get her back?"
And for once, Bruce didn't have an answer to that. Despite the amount of time you had been with them, there has been little to nothing found about the people who were after you. Not by Bruce and not by your father. He had spent nights sitting in front of that computer trying to help figure out how to keep you safe. But without whatever information Tony had found, he knew next to nothing.
Christine held in her tears, she thought she had ran out of tears earlier but here they come again. She had that feeling again. The same feeling she had when she left you. The same feeling she had when she listened to the voicemails and read the emails you sent her. The same feeling she had when the movers told her about your outburst, and the same feeling she had when she saw you at that gala.
Was it sadness or guilt? She couldn't tell anymore.
But she was afraid.
Afraid for you, and what these people had planned for you. This was the one thing she had been terrified would happen and it's happened. They've taken you from her.
"It's my fault." She cried," If I had just listened to her-"
"Miss Christine, I'm afraid now is not the time for your pity party." Alfred said from where he had been helping Dopiender, who was stll unconscious.
" Alfred." Bruce said in an exhaused manner
"I am sorry Master Bruce, but I believe it's best if we focus on Y/n and not tiptoeing around Miss Christines woes of failed motherhood."
The whole room froze. It was rare for Alfred to criticize Christine for anything, as she was his favorite.
"Woah..harsh Jeeves"
Everyone turned to see Wade rising froom his bed, wound healed.
"What the fuck?" Jason said, " This dude took a headshot!"
"Not the first time" Wade shook his head, forgoing the dirty joke that popped into his head, " Now where the fuck am I?"
Everyone again froze, but Bruce emerged from the shadows, full on Bat mode.
"Who are you."
Wade took one look at Bruce and laughed in his face.
"hahahaha oh oh I'm sorry- I just hahahahaha" Another burst of laughter came from his mouth, "You're so scary I promise!"
The room looked at the man uneasily. The one person that was crazy enough to laugh in Batman's face was the Joker.
"Wade stop it." Peter said from where he stood, "Y/ns gone."
Laughter ceases immediately, an eerie aura fells the room, " What was that bugs?"
"They got her."
"Then what the fuck are we standing around here for!" Wade shouts, the sudden shift in personalities making the family of bats unsettled.
Except for Jason.
"Can I just ask who the fuck are you?"
Your two friends turn to him," We're Y/ns family."
Jason pauses and nods," Okay then."
Then proceeds to give them the rundown on what they have discovered, which is not a lot.
There's a heavy silence that fills the air.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Panic fills your veins.
"That will be the first thing to go."
Those words riddled your brain as you were strapped down to this table. The room was white, almost like a hospital room.
Now, this wasn't the first time you had been kidnapped, but most of the time it was petty. Ransoms and whatnot. And your dad always managed to find you within the hour.
This was different. This was people who truly had no good intentions.
You were scared. Your dad had no idea where you were. You were worried about your friends, and even about the Waynes.
You had no idea on whether they were looking for you or still thought you were in your room. For all you knew, they were having a grand time thinking you were sulking and weren't going to discover you were gone till it was too late.
And what would happen to your dad if you die? He could barely take care of himself when Christine left him. He needed to you. He needed you to be okay so he can be okay. You couldn't dead. And your mom, you couldn't leave her to pick up your dads pieces. She didn't know how. Not like you did. and what about Jason-
"Ah, you're aware."
A woman came in this time.
"I apologize for the rather rude introduction, I'm afraid men just don't have the same gentle touch as us women."
She had a small frame. She was pale, almost deathly so. With graying hair that had no cut, just long and curly. She didn't look old however, that's what unsettled you the most. She looked about a few years older than you.
"Please don't pay no attention to whatever these men say to you, we do not intend to cause you any harm."
Her voice was calming, it soothed your panic and eased your anxiety. It made you feel like you were floating.
"Now, Ms. Stark I know you are probably wondering why you are here."
You couldn't even bring yourself to care, you felt at ease. A frail cold hand carding through your hair.
" This building we're in used to be a prestiges lab. We studied the human mind and its capabilities. With the rise of people such as Wanda Maximoff and such, this research was well needed. We searched far and wide for the people with these capabilities. Which was hard because they are so rare as I am sure you know."
She rises from her place next to you, hand leaving your hair. She walks over to a table next to you. When did that get there?
"Well, the search for these people was fruitless as you can imagine. Not many people are as forthcoming with their capabilities as we hoped. It became so bad that we had to force these poor subjects out of their hiding spaces. But even then the search didn't turn up much. So we decided that we would make our own."
You really didn't comprehend what this woman was telling you. All you wanted was to go back to sleep. You felt so relaxed.
"As you can imagine, that didn't particularly go as planned. We didn't mean to kill them, their minds just weren't strong enough."
Wait what?
"There were many that came through ; young, old, male female. And only one group was ever rarely successful. And can you guess who it was?"
A cold chill went down to your bones as you were piecing together her story.
"Young women, age 15-25." She said calmly, " Of course they did."
You didn't respond, just stared into this womens pale eyes. She was starting to creep you out.
"Now, I bet you're wondering where you factor into this equation." She hmms, hand back in your hair. A little rougher.
'Well my dear, I am afraid you just got caught in the crossfire. You see, one of my little experiments just so happened to escape." She sighs, eyes showing some sort of emotion, "She was beautiful, with a strong mind. I even came to view her as a daughter of my own. My little petal."
"Wait..what?"
"Don't interrupt it's rude." This women chides, not cruelly but you knew not to say anything else.
"Now, escaping just wasn't enough for my little petal, oh no. She decided that she needed to expose our...little secret. It was all covered up of course, you know how the government is about things like this, but our funding was cut and our doctors were arrested."
While she was talking you can feel an intense amount of pain. A deep sorrow penetrating your soul and heart. You felt betrayed, hurt.
"Well, imagine my surprise when I turn on the television and see a girl who looks exactly like my little flower."
That's when you knew.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Back at the manor, Peter was frustrated.
All these people were doing was arguing. Arguing about who should've been watching you, Arguing about what they should have done, what they did do, what they should be doing.
It baffles Peter that these were the feared vigilantes of Gotham.
Bruce was too busy trying to figure out just where you were taken and Christine had deemed him too normal to even be able to help (They didn't know he was Spiderman). Dick and Damian were out trying to find any footage that might have been taken on the scene. Wade was out talking to some of his connections with Cass because Bruce didn't trust him to be alone. So he was stuck being babysat by Tim and Jason who are arguing about the best course of action.
"I'M SAYING WE GO BACK TO THE DINER AND RETRACE OUR STEPS"
"Oh yeah that's a great idea, go to the bad side of town and ask about that one crime that happened in that one alley at night. As if anyone will talk."
"Well it's better than sitting here all-"
Peter tunes them out. He tunes everyone out. He's worried about you.
He knew that you only came here to make things easier for your dad. So he didn't have to watch you 24/7.
But the ironic thing is, Tony was worried out of his mind. He worked endlessly to find these people, people that he may have crossed in the past, people who may want to hurt him through you. Just to turn up with nothing everytime. Peter knew everyone one missed you. Your presence was not unnoticed.
He hated not being able to talk to you everyday, it was like you just didn't exist. He couldn't imagine how you felt, cut off from the only life you'd known
And all that pain for what? Just for the one thing no one wanted to happen come true in the end.
"Ahem." a throat cleared, breaking Peter out of his thoughts
"Sir, I don't mean to disturb you but perhaps now would be a good time to...call in some reinforcements." Alfred implied, softly talk as to not alert the other members of the family of his plan.
Peters brows scrunched in confusion before rising in clarity. He nodded softly, before standing and pardoning himself to the bathroom that Alfred showed him to.
When he was safely away from the commotion, he pulled out his cellphone.
*ring* *ring*
"Talk to me."
"It's Peter!DeadpoolkidnappedmetocomeseeY/ningothamandnowshesgoneandidontknowhattodoan-"
"Woah! Woah slow down Spiderboy, what do you mean you're in Gotham? That's a terrible place to be in."
"No it's Y/n sir! SHe's gone!"
A pause hits Peters ears, he almost thought he got hung up on"
"Peter, what are you saying?"
"They got her Mr. Stark. I'm sorry."
......
"Give me your location, we'll be right there."
#marvel x reader#marvel#tony stark x daughter!reader#reader insert#dc comics x reader#jason todd x reader#dick grayson x reader#x reader#bruce wayne x daughter!reader
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The Inspection
Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Sergeant!Reader
18+ only read at your own risk
Summary: It’s time for your first uniform inspection, and of course Natasha will not make it easy for you.
Word count: 2210
AN: Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.
This is Part 2 in my Sergeant Beef series. Read Part 1 here.
“Where have you been?” Sam Wilson asks, almost knocking you down as he rushes down the hall.
“Uh, just…Sergeant Romanoff wanted to see me,” you answer, tugging down the front of your shirt and making sure the button placket of your shirt lines up with your belt buckle and zipper.
“You spend a lot of time in her office,” Sam notes, narrowing his eyes at you. You shrug helplessly. “Well, whatever, just make sure you’re not late for inspection.”
You check your watch panickedly. You still have ten minutes, but you don’t have time to go back to your bunker and freshen up. Instead, you stop off at the bathroom, splashing your face with water and wiping off the brass name tag on your chest. You button the wrists of your sleeves, trying not to move too fast because of how tightly your biceps stretch out the fabric, but you prefer a tighter uniform because of how much bigger it makes you look. Making sure that all the creases in your uniform look extra crisp and lined up, you’re ready to head out when you suddenly double over like you’ve been punched in the stomach by an invisible man.
“Oh God,” you gasp, reaching for your belt and hastily undoing it. You pull down your pants, not even thinking about how you’re ruining the creases, and hear a low buzzing sound emanating from your boxers.
“You are not going to touch this or take this off until I say so. Do you understand?” Natasha says, pulling your cock through a tight silicone ring until it sits snugly at the base of your shaft.
“Yes, ma’am,” you whimper, your eyes glued to her hands as they gently put your cock back in your underwear and zip your pants up. Natasha holds up a remote control.
“If you do well in your inspection today, I won’t keep it on for too long,” she says, and you gulp. “But no promises.”
“Y-Yes, ma’am,” you respond, standing on trembling legs. The cock ring isn’t even on yet and your head is already spinning at the thought of being completely at your staff sergeant’s mercy.
“Good. Now get the hell out of my office.”
You feel the cock ring vibrating around you, strongly enough to make your dick swell to attention. The sensations practically take your breath away and you see a spot of wetness on your boxers already.
How in the world are you going to get through an entire uniform inspection with this on?
You back into a stall to sit down on the toilet, barely able to stay standing, when the cock ring suddenly turns off and you breathe a huge sigh of relief. Natasha must be somewhere close by, unless the ring has unlimited range, which you don’t doubt. You pull your pants back up, doing your best to rub out the new wrinkles on your thighs, but not having the capacity to care for long. You don’t want to be late to the inspection.
You practically run down the hall to the classroom where the inspection is being held, finding many of your colleagues already waiting there.
“Where did you go off to now?” Sam asks, coming over to you. “And why are you so sweaty?”
“I…I…just don’t feel too well,” you say, which isn’t a complete lie.
“You better go lie down after this,” he responds. “Tell Sergeant Romanoff to leave you alone for five minutes,” he adds with a chuckle, but you’re not laughing. While your cock ring is off for now, you already have a feeling Natasha is going to turn it on at the worst time imaginable.
Everyone lines up and stands at attention just in time for the brass to stroll in with heavy footsteps: Captain Rogers, Staff Sergeant Romanoff, Commander Hill, and General Fury. They break up and start going after individuals, nitpicking the tiniest specks of dirt or invisible wrinkles on their uniforms.
You stare straight ahead as General Fury approaches Sam, clenching your jaw as the general tears your friend a new one, knowing that you’re about to be next as he goes down the line.
“Sergeant Y/N!” General Fury barks. “What are you smiling at?”
The color drains from your face. “Sir, I’m not smiling, sir!” you shout, continuing to look straight ahead.
“You think it’s funny that Wilson has dandruff that’s flaking all over his uniform?” General Fury asks.
“Sir, no, sir!”
“You better start sharing your shampoo with him, or he’s going to have a greater snowfall than the Swiss Alps!”
“Sir, yes, sir!” You think your jaw is going to crack from not laughing, but you hold it back. General Fury moves down the line and you relax, having been spared from his intense scrutiny. Suddenly, the vibrating in your pants starts again and you squeeze your legs together, trying to subtly move your cock into a position where the ring isn’t affecting it so much, but it’s a waste of effort.
“Sergeant Y/N!” Natasha shouts, the top of her head barely coming into your field of view because she’s shorter than you. You stare over her, clenching your fists tighter by your sides. Blood rushes down between your legs at the constant stimulation and you try not to let your panicked breathing show.
“What’s wrong with your pants, Sergeant?” Natasha asks, and for a moment you wonder if she’s asking about what’s inside of them rather than what’s on the outside.
“My p-pants, ma’am?” you respond, your voice cracking when the vibrating intensifies. You’re at full hardness in seconds and your cock pokes uncomfortably against the back of your zipper, threatening to split it open. Natasha steps closer to you and you can feel her breath on your neck.
“You look like a slob,” Natasha says. “You’re setting a very poor example for your trainees, Sergeant.”
You don’t know if you should apologize or just keep your mouth shut. Sweat pops on your forehead as arousal builds in your stomach that you can do nothing to relieve. Your cock is aching for release so badly it hurts.
You feel Natasha touch the pant wrinkles on your thighs, and then her hand brushes across your bulge on purpose and you almost explode right there.
“Sergeant,” you choke, trying to consider your next words carefully, but the task is much more difficult at hand when you can’t focus on anything but the sensation of the cock ring. “Please, I–”
“What?” Natasha snaps.
You swallow, noticing that your legs are shaking. “I’m sorry for setting a poor example, Sergeant!”
“I’m not looking for an apology,” Natasha says. “I want to see you back in my office after this.” You go light-headed at the thought. Maybe she’ll have mercy on you, or she might be more ruthless than ever. “Tsk, tsk, Sergeant. Very embarrassing to fail your first uniform inspection. This is not going to look good on your record.”
“I’m sorry, Sergeant!” you squeak, but Natasha is already walking away.
She doesn’t turn the cock ring off, but leaves it on at a lower setting, just enough to keep you throbbing and aching.
“Why do you look like you’re going to pass out, Sergeant?” Commander Hill asks, attacking you next.
“I…I…” you respond weakly, not sure what to say.
“Stop locking your legs.” Commander Hill nudges your boot with hers, scuffing the toe, and you bend your knees exaggeratedly, trying to relieve the pressure in your groin. She offers you no other criticism and moves on.
You can barely listen to Captain Rogers giving the entire room a verbal lashing on the importance of grooming and appearance, feeling like you are truly on the verge of passing out. You wonder if Sam or anyone else in your vicinity can hear the buzzing of your cock ring, but the layers of your boxers and pants muffle the sound. When Captain Rogers finally dismisses the group, you’re practically pushing people out of the way as you run towards Natasha’s office. As desperate as you are, you still take the time to knock and wait for her to let you in.
“Get in here, Sergeant Y/N,” she snarls from the other side, and you don’t hesitate to help yourself. Natasha is waiting on the other side of the door and she grabs you by the collar, roughly pushing you onto her couch.
“You are such a disappointment,” she says, her hands clawing down your uniform and popping the buttons, misaligning the ribbons on your chest.
“Please Sergeant,” you beg, all formalities going out the window. She straddles your lap and your hands automatically go to her hips, but she swats you away roughly.
“Did I give you permission to touch me?” she snaps.
“No, ma’am,” you groan with frustration, keeping your arms to the sides and holding onto handfuls of couch cushions to stop yourself from touching her again.
“You’re an embarrassment,” Natasha says, pushing off the outer layer of your uniform and then yanking the white undershirt over your head and tossing it away. “Your superiors stuck their necks out for you to get approval for your promotion, and then you go and show up to your first inspection like a day-one recruit?”
“I…I’m sorry, ma’am,” you pant. Her hands are hot against your bare chest, and her hand wraps around the chain of your dog tags, jerking your neck up at an angle where you’re forced to look into her fierce green eyes.
“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.” In her other hand, she holds up the remote that controls your cock ring. “I hope you know that I’ll have to punish you for your performance today.”
“I know,” you squeak, although privately you wonder if she’s humiliated you enough today.
“I’m going to fuck you now, and you are not to cum until I give you permission. Do you understand?” Natasha says, with the same authority she uses when addressing the recruits.
“Yes, Sergeant!”
“Don’t let me down more than you already have.”
You watch while holding your breath as Natasha undresses herself, then undoes your belt and zipper, pulling your pants and boxers down to free your cock. Even you’ve never seen yourself so hard before, the tip a dark red and leaking pre-cum, the veins on the sides visibly pulsing. You hold back a moan when Natasha takes you in her hand, stroking you lightly and you bite on your lip to focus on not cumming already.
The cock ring vibrates harder, causing your hips to jerk off the couch. You desperately try to keep still as Natasha glares at you, not speaking as she lines her entrance up with the head of your cock. You already know that the combination of the cock ring and being inside of her will be too much for you; you’ve been teased enough today and have been on edge for hours. If Natasha is going to punish you for cumming too early, you’re completely willing to accept it at this point.
“S-Sergeant,” you pant, quieting the second she sinks down on you.
“Oh fuck!” Natasha moans as you fill her, your size stretching her out pleasurably. Your thighs flex as you use every muscle in your legs to keep yourself grounded on the couch. Natasha lifts herself until only your head is inside of her before she slides down again, taking you all the way until she can directly feel the vibrations of your cock ring against the insides of her thighs.
“Sergeant, I can’t,” you beg, the coil in your stomach ready to snap at any second.
“Yes, you can,” Natasha demands, yanking on your dog tags like they’re a leash. The metal bites into your neck and the pain is just enough to keep you from tumbling off the cliff. “I get to cum first.”
“Y-Yes. Yes, ma’am.”
Natasha bounces on your waist, using you like a toy of her own, as you lay there, tensed to your breaking point trying not to cum before she says you can. Your pre-cum lubes up your own cock and the vibrations from the cock ring stimulate her as well, so all you have to do is hold on long enough for Natasha to catch up.
“Are you going to fail your next uniform inspection, Sergeant?” she asks, moving her hips sloppily. She lets go of your dog tags, digging her nails into your shoulders.
“No, Sergeant!”
“Good.” Her walls flutter around you and you know she’s close. “Are you ready to cum?”
“Oh God, yes.”
“Go ahead. I want every drop inside of me.”
Your vision goes white as you lose control, spilling into Natasha in hard, heavy spurts. Your entire body is shaking as you empty yourself and you don’t think you’ve ever cum more in your life. You don’t even notice Natasha reach her own orgasm at the same time you do, so focused on finally getting your release, that it isn’t until you’re slumped back on her couch, your thighs coated in your combined body fluids, that you realize what happened.
Natasha gets off your lap, removing the cock ring and patting your limp cock.
“I can’t wait to use this again,” she smirks.
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AN: Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰
#natasha romanoff#black widow#natasha romanoff smut#natasha romanoff imagine#sergeant beef au#natasha romanoff x reader
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Hey, can you do something with where the reader is pregnant in mafia stucky and Bucky and Steve are super protective about her?
Xoxo
Our Little Bean // Mafia!Stucky x Fem!Reader
A/N: Thank you for your request, this has been requested quite a few times by many people so I hope you do enjoy!
Important note for readers: I'm currently working within maternity services within the UK so the pregnancy side of this is all based on a UK perspective but it's set in the US so apologies if anything is different over there. Also, the signs and symptoms are based on my bestie's pregnancy so thank you for letting me use these!
ALSO: I'm sorry if I don't do any more pregnancy/baby fics, I wanted to just do this one and return to the normal trio we had before.
Tags: 18+ readers only, unplanned pregnancy, fluff (LOTS!), comfort, soft steve/bucky, protectiveness, pregnancy kink, pet names, pregnancy symptoms discussed in detail, crying, family/domestic fluff, tooth-rotting goodness!
Words: 6.9k
my masterlist 📚
AO3 Link
Your nausea never seemed to settle, barely being able to keep down dry toast or sips of water and then there was the immense exhaustion, finding yourself to be lucky if you were awake for an hour before falling asleep again. This, paired with the dizzy spells and dull aches in your temples, it was safe to say that you were done with feeling unwell and you definitely blamed Sam Wilson for this. He’d turned up to work last week feeling unwell, slightly different symptoms to yours as he had a head cold but ill nonetheless and now, here you were, collapsed onto the couch in the living room, under a mount of blankets.
It wasn’t all bad however as Bucky had stayed home to look after you and he was doing a good job of it too, but he and Steve were always extra attentive when you were unwell and had been taking it in turns to stay home, with Steve having stayed with you yesterday.
Bucky today had helped you wash, changed into fresh pyjamas and then carried downstairs, tucking you into your little fort before sitting on the floor and reading the book you were halfway through reading. You were too tired to read and didn’t want to keep your eyes open so Bucky offered, which was hilarious to hear him trying to read along and then asking questions as to the type of books you’ve been reading.
“So who is this Rhysand guy? Just some hotshot king or something?” he asked, lowering the book to look at your resting face. You smiled tiredly at his question, opening one eye to look into his confused expression, he was already invested in your book, even though he had started more than halfway through.
“Something like that”, you replied, voice croaking from needing water which he was quick to notice, lifting the glass with the straw to your mouth and you hummed your thanks, taking a sip and closing your eye once more.
You fell back to sleep again and woke to be carried, noticing that it was dark outside with another day passing as Steve carried you up the stairs, having returned home from work. Your arms were trapped into the blanket cocooned you were being carried in so you nuzzled your face into his neck to let him know you were awake.
Steve tilted his head, kissing the top of yours as he placed you into the centre of your shared bed, “think you’re up for eating some chicken noodle soup?”
“Did you make it?”, your voice was full of hope as you blinked open your eyes to look up at him but made no attempt to move just yet.
“Of course, only the best for you”. Steve left to retrieve your soup, giving you time for another quick snooze, before he was back and shaking your shoulders. With his help, you untangled yourself from the soft blankets and attempted to sit up but were hit with a wave of dizziness, having to stop and close your eyes to get your bearings straight before it subsided and you could sit up properly. Steve was looking at you with a knowing glance as he sat on the edge of the bed, a warm noodle soup bowl in his lap that he began to spoon-feed you - something he insisted on. “You know I’m going to call the doctor, right?”
You release a frustrated huff, you didn’t need the doctor, “It’s fine though, it’ll pass. Sam said it took him 4 days before he started to feel better and I’m only on day 3”.
“Baby, you’re on day 4 and you said this all yesterday and it’s only getting worse”, he stated everything matter-of-factly but you were still shocked that you’d somehow missed an entire day. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to see a doctor and there was no use arguing with Steve when it came to your health.
So after you’d finished half a bowl of the soup before feeling queasy, Steve excused himself to call his doctor who just so happened to be a close family friend. Of course, you had fallen asleep before the Doctor arrived and being rudely awakened made you feel even more groggy and unwell as Steve whispered, “Sorry honey, but Doctor Banner’s here to check you over”.
Steve excused himself so the Doctor could check you over properly without feeling pressured by the mafia boss in the room. Doctor Banner put you at ease though with his warming personality and you’d met him on a few occasions anyway when Steve or Bucky were more injured through an event with work, but you’d never had him look after you before.
The two of you ran through the general list, ‘When did you start feeling like this?’, ‘What are your symptoms?’, before he began doing your vital signs, temperature and blood pressure, all just normal procedures.
“Could you be pregnant?” he casually asked as he velcroed the blood pressure cuff from your arm.
Frowning you answered, “Um no…no, I’m on birth control, so I shouldn’t be”.
“Do you mind if we do a quick test just to tick it off of the list? All you need to do is pee in this cup and I’ll dip a test strip into it”.
You wobbled to the toilet on unsteady feet, realising this is probably the first time you’d properly walked in days because the boys insisted on carrying you everywhere. As you used the toilet, you didn’t think anything of the test, leaving the cup on the side for the doctor and returning back to bed, wondering if he’s going to give you some antibiotics or just see how you get on over the next few days.
After a few minutes, your eyes were closed but you could hear the Doctor returning so you asked, “So, do you think it’s just the flu like I said-”
“It’s not the flu, your test was positive”.
Your eyes snap open to look at him, sitting up and feeling dizzy but ignoring it, “what? What do you mean it’s positive?”
Doctor Bruce held up the little white strip that had two purple lines on it. You looked between the test and his face as he calmly smiled, “You’re pregnant”.
“What if the test is wrong? Can we do it again?” Thankfully he didn’t fight you on this and gave you the packet of tests, you grabbed two and stumbled back to the bathroom. Both strips gave the exact result and now it felt like your heart was coming out of your mouth it was pounding so hard and loudly in your ears.
“Take a deep breath for me”, Doctor Banner calmly instructed as he placed a steady hand on your back in case you needed extra support. You took a few deep breaths, not even realising that you had been holding your breath. Gripping onto the bathroom side, you began to feel dizzy again so he helped you back to bed waiting until you were settled before continuing.
“This explains your symptoms, I’d say you were in your early stages of pregnancy so we’ll book an appointment with the midwife tomorrow and sort out things like a scan. You may feel that your symptoms get worse over the next few weeks and if they do, you can always call me back but otherwise, stay rested and take it easy”.
You were only half listening. Midwife? Scans? Symptoms getting worse? There was so much for your brain to process. There was an actual baby inside of your body right now, a part of you and… who? Your anxiety was increasing with each second as you tried to let the words sink in as the Doctor packed his stuff away. Did you want to have a baby right now? You had always wanted kids but were you even ready at this stage of your life but then again… was anyone ready for a baby when they were accidentally knocked up?
Then the knocked-up by who question echoed through your thoughts. You obviously didn’t know if the baby was Steve's or Bucky’s, so would they be upset about this? If it was planned at least there could be some way you could arrange who to have sex with to know for sure but now… you were all in the dark about the paternity. You didn’t care if it was Steve or Bucky, you were always a trio in every sense of the word but now that this was your reality, would they be pissed off? And were they even ready for kids? The business took so much of their time and was still very dangerous but this was bound to happen eventually as you all wanted children.
Bucky and Steve had always been very open that they wanted kids, especially Bucky with his affection name for you being ‘mama’, he often would talk about his fantasy of seeing you barefoot and pregnant with his kid. So, at least you knew they were on the same page about wanting to have children but now it was the stress of is now the right time and who was the father of the baby?
You were vaguely aware of the Doctor bidding his farewells, “I’ll speak to you tomorrow and I’ll let you tell your partners the good news”. You offered a half-assed wave to him as he left, before staring at your hands in your lap, completely petrified for the next few minutes.
Steve and Bucky wandered in a few beats later, sitting on either side of you on the bed but you couldn’t look them in the eye, trying desperately to hold it together.
“Everything ok, Doll? The Doc didn’t tell us what was wrong, just said you would explain”, Bucky asked, stroking a finger down your arm to try and soothe you but it was enough to make you break.
You burst into tears, hiding your face in your hands.
“Honey? What is it? Talk to us”, Steve encouraged, attempting to pull your hands away from your face but you held them there tightly so instead, he pulled your body into his lap, your legs over his thighs so that you could hide your face into his chest, the sobs building in intensity and everything was just so overwhelming. You were excited, scared, relieved but nervous, it was a lot to handle.
Steve and Bucky encouraged you to talk to them both, becoming more unsettled with your increasing hysterics. It took a few minutes to calm down, and it helped as Bucky held both your hands, rubbing circles into your skin and Steve wrapped his arms around your shoulders, holding you close to his body. You decided it was better to just tell them than keep it to yourself any longer.
With your face still pressed into Steve’s face, you whispered “I’m pregnant”, however, it was so muffled and quiet that neither man heard you.
“What was that sweetheart?”, Steve asked, trying to pull you away enough that both men could see your tear-stained face.
The words sounded strange coming from your mouth as you kept your head hanging lowly, mumbling, “I’m pregnant”.
You knew that they had heard this time by the way both completely froze, not even breathing as they processed the news. Bucky finally whispered, “What?”
You still couldn’t look at him, scared you’d see disappointment or anger in his eyes.
“Are you sure?” Steve asked in such a faint voice you were shocked it was even from him.
Nodding your head at his question you explained, “We checked a couple of times, he thinks I’m still in my early pregnancy but-ah!”
You jumped as Bucky all but tackled you and Steve, his lips kissing every part of your face that he could reach and when he pulled back enough to cup your cheeks, you took in the glowing grin on his face, his eyes twinkling with love as he shouted, “you’re pregnant! We’re having a baby!”
Steve then seemed to snap out of his initial shock and his arms tightened and lifted your body further up so he could kiss your face just as happily as Bucky before nuzzling into your neck, breathing you in, “I love you so much sweetheart, I can’t believe it! Wait, why were you crying, are you not excited?”
He relaxed his hold on you so that they could both see you properly and you had room to look at them both. “I... I am excited! I just wasn’t sure how you would both react as I don’t know which of you is the dad-”
Bucky leans across and kisses your lips quickly cutting off your sentence, the grin still broad across his face, “I don’t fucking care, if the baby has my genes or Steve’s, we’re all in this together, remember? That’s what we’ve agreed on”.
“So you aren’t upset?” you wanted to clarify.
“Fuck no hot mama… and you’re actually going to be a mama! This little bean is ours, all of ours!”
You were crying again with relief, “you really mean that?”
His eyes softened, kissing the corner of your mouth, “Of course I do”.
“We both mean it, I… I can’t believe it, I’ve always wanted to be a Dad”, Steve admitted, kissing your temple and as you looked up, you could see his eyes glistening with unshed tears which only made you smile and cry harder.
Steve made the move first, lowering his hand over your abdomen, resting over your stomach where there was no bump yet but knowing there was something growing inside you, he couldn’t help the relieved gasp. Bucky was quick to cover his hand and yours on the top so the three of you were feeling where the baby would be. “I can’t believe we’re going to be parents!”
The next few days were a whirlwind of excitement and unimaginable joy whilst also still feeling relatively unwell, especially feeling more exhausted as you wanted to buy every pregnancy book and read them all but soon fell asleep with it open in your lap.
Then there was Steve and Bucky who could not contain their excitement, going above and beyond for you, especially with you still feeling ill. They would cook and feed you, if you were too tired, refill your glasses of water, constantly ask if you were comfortable and more than happy to fetch another pillow if needed. Not only this, but their levels of affection had increased massively, whispering their love for you at any opportunity, holding your hands, and lots of kisses, it was so nice to feel this level of love when going through such a life-changing experience.
Both of them had been just as motivated to read about pregnancy, birth, babies, and the whole lot from A to Z, they researched everything that was possible and then gave you the rundown on what your bodily changes would be including what you couldn’t eat, vowing to not eat the same items until you could which you didn’t seem necessary but appreciated the gesture.
Then there was the excitement of going to the Midwife’s appointment and it all became so much more real again, especially being able to book the ultrasound scan. This was where you found out that you were 8 weeks and 3 days and the entire world seemed to pause around the three of you as you watched your baby's tiny heartbeat on the screen.
To say you all cried was an understatement, all of you not taking your eyes off of the scan picture that was provided, the little bean was so tiny, only just being able to tell the outline of its arms and legs. Now it felt official. You, Steve and Bucky were going to have a baby.
Many things changed including protection that increased tenfold. Security around your home doubled and you had not only Sam Wilson as your bodyguard but also Natasha. Not only this but if you attending the business or in public, Steve and Bucky would crowd around you, almost like a human shield, their overprotective instincts on overdrive, even from people who were just at the check-outs in stores. Sam and Natasha were confused by the sudden dynamic intensity and it was hard to keep it all a secret but you had all decided to wait just a little while longer and continue with your unknown illness excuse just until the baby had grown a little bit bigger.
This was something else that you had to get used to with adjusting to the many bodily changes you were going through to adapt to growing this baby. A few days following the scan, you’d come downstairs to Steve cooking you scrambled eggs which were your usual favourite breakfast but as soon as you smelt those cooking eggs, you were gagging and rushing to the toilet, throwing up violently.
Your eyes were watering as you finally stopped emptying your stomach but still gagging as you could smell the lingering eggs in the air. A warm hand rubbed circles over your back, Steve’s apologetic voice came from behind you, “Sorry, baby. No more eggs”.
This was the first instance of vomiting and it wasn’t just eggs, as every single day you would be throwing up and then feeling extremely tired afterwards that you weren’t able to do much throughout the day but be with your head in the toilet or lying in bed. The boys were almost glued to your side during this time, worried that you weren’t keeping enough food or drinks down and even had to call Doctor Banner back just to check you weren’t too dehydrated.
Thankfully you hadn’t needed to go into hospital as your vomiting subsided but the nausea remained for a while.
“You sure she’s ok? She’s looking a little peaky,” Sam commented to Steve one day as he came to help guard the house and was having his lunch with you all but he took one look at you and knew something wasn’t right, even as you forced the sandwich into your mouth, making sure to still eat for you and baby… not that Sam knew about the baby.
“Yeah, she’s fine Sam, thanks for checking though and we appreciate the extra hours you’re doing”, Steve responded with a thankful grip on his friend's shoulder.
“It’s no problem man, just worried for her that’s all, don’t really understand what’s going on with you all, especially with the extra security and whatnot and I feel like I’ve hardly spoken to her for a few weeks now. Just want you to know I’m always here if you ever need anything”.
You felt guilty when Steve later told you what Sam had said, feeling bad that you were keeping it secret but it was only for a few more weeks.
Luckily, you had found the special trick to help your nausea as suggested by a friend: lavender! After sitting with a bag of dried lavender for a couple of hours and not feeling nauseous, Steve and Bucky were quick to fill the entire house with lavender-scented items including candles and sprays, even having some in the car and it helped to settle your nausea massively.
But, as soon as one symptom passed, another would be replacing the uncomfortable feeling. The next was your breasts becoming incredibly painful and sore, even if you accidentally knocked them when putting on a bra or rolling over in your sleep, it was agony. Your boyfriends were even more careful with you during this phase, getting ice to hold against them during particularly painful moments and being careful to give you enough room when asleep.
A couple of weeks later was the first day you noticed the little bean kicking, at first it felt like maybe gas, almost like there were butterflies fluttering in your tummy but then you finally realised what it was. The feeling grew stronger with each day as well as the size of your growing stomach which was something Steve and Bucky were going absolutely feral for. They would take pictures each week to show your progression and would constantly be placing their hands on your stomach, even if the bump wasn’t that noticeable just yet.
The midwife recommended talking to the baby at one point so every night, you would sit with a shirt off and Steve and Bucky would lie on either side of you, taking it in turns to tell stories, sing their favourite songs and lay sweet kisses along the growing bump. One day, Bucky was telling the little bean about the time he and Steve snuck into a movie theatre when the skin under his cheek poked out as the baby kicked him in the face. Bucky sat up with excitement, it being the first time he had properly felt the baby move as he cooed, “there's our strong baby, good job little bean!”
“You hit the right dad as well”, Steve joked causing Bucky to smack him in the shoulder.
“Don’t listen to Dad, listen to Pops, I’m right here to make everything’s ok”, Bucky continued to speak sweetly to your stomach.
Your heart swelled at the difference in names that he had seemed to pick, “is that what you’d like to be called?” you asked them both, stroking a finger across each of their cheeks, feeling the stubble beneath.
“It’s perfect”, Steve beamed, kissing your stomach again.
Now it was your 20-week scan, Baby was so much bigger, you couldn’t believe the difference those weeks had made since the last scan. Now it was really starting to look like a baby with longer limbs and you were even able to find out the gender, however, you had wanted to wait to find out, liking the thought of it being announced at the birth.
With these beautiful new prints of the scans, you finally wanted to tell people, beginning with your closest friends.
It was a casual lunchtime meal at the office. You sat at the large table in between Steve and Bucky, with Sam and Natasha sitting opposite, all idly talking and eating the take-out that Steve had bought. However you had opted for a different meal: 4 packs of salt and vinegar chips and a tub of tomatoes - both were your latest cravings.
Sam eyed your food wearily, “Interesting mix you’ve got there, boss lady?”
Your only response was smiling with your cheeks full of tomatoes as Bucky placed his hand over your thigh. You knew he wanted to put his hand on your stomach but you hadn’t told either of the people across the table just yet and even though your bump was starting to become noticeable now, you were trying to hide it behind baggy shirts but even that was becoming difficult. You were in desperate need of some new trousers as well as the button was digging into your skin as you shifted uncomfortably, looking at each of your boys, feeling antsy with excitement as well.
“Can we tell them? I really need to take off my trousers, I’m feeling really claustrophobic”.
Sam frowned at your random sentence, confused by what you meant however it was Natasha’s reaction that sparked your interest as she smirked, leaning back in her chair with a tilt of the head. You looked at her with a gaped-open mouth, pointing your finger at her, “You already know! Who told her?” you asked, looking between Bucky and Steve.
“Wasn’t me”, they both responded at the same time, holding up their hands as you eyed them both suspiciously.
Natasha leaned forward in her chair, “did you really think that I wouldn’t notice? I’m offended Sugar, it’s in my job description to be observant. In fact, you should be asking if Sam is right to keep this job if he can’t notice something this obvious”, she teased the man sitting next to her who still looked just as confused as before.
You laugh at Sam’s reaction, looking to Steve who handed you the sealed cards. You happily took them, standing from your chair and feeling Bucky’s hand on your lower back to help and then walked around the table, giving them both a card each. It wasn’t anything special or elaborate, but it had a picture of the latest scan with the statement: “Update to your job title; bodyguard & uncle/auntie”.
You’d never heard the high-pitched tone from Sam ever before as he quickly stood, his chair squeaking across the floor as he shouted, “What?!” He turned to you, looking between you, the picture and Steve and Bucky, “Really?!”
You pulled the back of your shirt so the material was tight to your front, showing off your growing bump, grinning as he shouted “Congratulations!”, before pulling you into a huge hug, careful of your belly but rocking the two of you on the spot a few times and kissing your temple, “I can’t believe I’m going to be an uncle again!”
Sam was then pushed aside, giving room for Natasha, “Move it, Wilson, I want to meet my niece or nephew”, Sam didn’t mind being moved as he rushed around to embrace Steve and Bucky.
Natasha hugged you tightly, and you were able to ask, “How long have you known?”
“A couple of weeks, you aren’t as subtle as you think at hiding things. I mean, you’ve hardly been awake enough to have a conversation, this is the most lively I’ve seen you in nearly a month. And that's without the new obsessive protecting from Steve and Bucky, how they’re always touching you and the weird food you’re eating, it’s more noticeable than you think it is”. She pulls back to put her hands on your growing bump, “how many weeks are you?”
“20 weeks and 5 days, I can feel the little bean moving more with each day, I feel so big already and I’m not even showing that much considering I’m only halfway through my pregnancy”. Natasha grinned hearing this, looking at your little bump. “Now you both know, I can take off my pants without being judged”, you groaned as you undid your jeans button, utter relief when they were completely removed from your body and felt free, your shirt was long enough that it stopped mid-thigh so you weren’t too unmodest.
Bucky had snuck behind you, his arms wrapping around to rest on your stomach as he kissed your cheek. Natasha smiled watching the embrace as she remarked, “Guess you got what you wanted all along Barnes, now you can call her mama and she actually is one”.
“Mmm absolutely”, Bucky nuzzled into your neck, the sensation making you laugh as it tickled, turning to shy away from his attack but he only held you tighter until you melted into his arms.
Steve and Sam joined your little gathering and Sam jokingly asked, “So if the baby’s a boy, can we name him Sam?”
You were so thankful for the news being out, especially as this meant that you could go baby clothes shopping with Sam and Natasha, finding little outfits that you could surprise your boyfriends with. It was one of the only things you were able to do for them to show your appreciation as they did so much for you throughout your pregnancy.
Your cravings continued to become stronger with each day and often found yourself waking in the middle of the night to find something to quench the craving for something acidic and sour taste you needed so desperately it felt like your world was going to end if you didn’t eat it right then and there. On multiple occasions, Steve or Bucky would come downstairs in the early hours of the morning to find you sitting on the kitchen floor, your belly round and exposed, hating feeling material against your skin, and a scattering of different foods surrounding you, a happy smile on your face.
“You ok down there beautiful?” they would ask with grins that matched yours and with your heightened emotions you would be crying before long, reaching for them to come and sit with you which they would do eagerly, pulling your body in between there legs and kissing away your tears, “don’t cry pretty girl, I’ve got you”.
If you ever run out of your favourite cravings, they would drive to the store and you were buzzing to go along for the ride in the middle of the night, fully awake and ready for the night time adventure only to fall asleep before getting to the store.
Entering into the third trimester, your belly was round and heavy, things for sure were becoming more difficult for you as the little bean grew. There were small excitements still like attending antenatal classes with your boyfriends who were taking their role as dad and pops very seriously, you’d never seen them concentrate so hard before.
“You’re doing the boss face again”, you whispered to Steve as he correctly wrapped the baby doll in a blanket. Steve's features softened immediately as he sheepishly looked at you from the corner of his eye.
“I’m just trying to concentrate”, he mumbled, eyes returning to looking at the doll, his fingers trembling slightly as he continued wrapping steadily.
Reaching across you grabbed his hands, keeping your voice low to keep the conversation between the two of you, “I’m scared too, but you’re going to be a great dad, Steve, you’ll be ok”.
This was a little pep talk you needed to have with both Bucky and Steve on numerous occasions as they began panicking that this was actually happening and whilst you reminded them there was nothing they could do to take back the growing baby in your belly, it was ok to have nerves, but everything would come to them with time, they needed to stay strong, especially as you were also sort of beginning to lose it.
Your body was really changing to accommodate the growing little bean. Your hands and feet were swollen until your shoes couldn’t fit anymore and god…the heartburn was excruciating, and nearly as painful as the kicks to the ribs. There was never a moment where you weren’t out of breath, even standing to pour cereal into a bowl took all of your energy and you’d be sighing in relief as you sat down. Your hips hurt, your back was in agony, and the pregnancy fun had well and truly finished.
This was where the boys really shined through as they would massage your hands and feet, they would be more then happy to cook or grab anything for you, picking things off of the ground, finding clothes that might fit and then there were their compliments which was one thing keeping you going.
Steve and Bucky could not get enough of seeing you pregnant, “you’re glowing honey, pregnancy suits you so much, my love”. You never felt like you were glowing and would describe yourself instead as a huge, hungry, tired monster but the way the boys looked at you, put those negative thoughts to the back of your mind.
From the moment you woke up to the second sleep would invade your consciousness, they would remind you of their love, needing you to fully comprehend how much they appreciated you growing their baby, you were doing so much for them, putting your body through it, for all of you, for the little bean.
Their words definitely helped when you began to feel needier in more than one way as your hormones caused your arousal to be one-minute non-existence and the next feeling nearly overwhelmed with how badly you needed to touch them and be touched. Thankfully with how obsessed they were with you during your pregnancy, they were more than happy to deliver. Hands would be all over, their lips leaving words of affirmation against your warm skin, being careful not to be to rough and more than happy if you wanted to take control and do whatever you wanted to them.
You had to be honest and say you never felt more loved up before. Even with the gang still in full operation, they were able to look after you as their number one priority, even through your emotional breakdowns, or weird pregnancy habits that had you thinking you were slightly insane but they never judged once.
For example, towards the end of your pregnancy, you had a completely immense craving to chew on your bath sponge every time you sat in the large bathtub. So when one day Steve walked in with a freshly warmed-up towel and caught you mid-chew with staring eyes, you expected his reaction to being anything but a soft smile, “You having fun in there, baby?”
Pulling the sponge out of your mouth slowly you nervously answered, “I uh… I don’t really know how to explain…”
Steve held up a hand, “You don’t have to explain anything, whatever makes you happy and I think I’ve read in a book that sometimes pregnant women can have cravings like this, whatever makes you happy”.
As your due date closened, you sat in the centre of the large bed, watching Bucky shuffle his way through your clothes, trying to find the right things to pack for your hospital bag. “What about this?” he asked, holding up a pair of your normal jeans.
“They haven’t fit me in four months, Bucky”, you laughed, shaking your head. “I need pyjamas or baggy shirts, things that can be easily taken on and off, maybe you should just leave Steve to do it”, you suggested whilst holding out your arms.
Bucky shrugged, dropping the jeans and jumping onto the bed, making you squeal with the bed moving up and down before he had his hands against your bump, kissing the tip of your nose. “Not long until we meet you little bean”, he was rewarded with a kick against his metal palm that had you wincing. “Hello baby, I love feeling you kick so much but be gentle to Mama she’s doing such a good job with keeping you safe”, he leaned down to kiss your belly as your fingers delved into his hair.
“It’s ready!”, Steve shouted from another room, catching both of your attention. Bucky jumped up first and then helped you to stand, keeping his hand on your lower back as you wobbled to the spare room that Steve and Bucky had been decorating as the nursery. It was something you had left them in charge of organising, not having the energy over the last nine months to even think about decorating and Steve and Bucky were more than excited to take on the job and so far had kept it secret from your prying eyes.
As you looked around the room, tears swelled in your eyes instantly, reaching to hold onto Steve and Bucky, praising, “It’s perfect!”. There was a beautiful baby cot, pictures of the three of you surrounding the ultrasound scan photograph on the wall, a painting you knew Steve had done, and a rocking chair in the corner that Bucky had claimed as his for the night feeds he’d volunteered himself for.
Now it was all just a waiting game.
“You’re doing it again”, Bucky commented from where he stood in the entryway to your home having returned from the office a few days later.
“No, I’m not, I’m just cleaning-”.
“Nesting… You’re nesting, Doll”, Bucky reminded you, taking away the cloth from your hands and throwing it to the side so he could hold your shoulders and kiss your temple. “Go and rest, you’ve only got a few days left!”
You roll your eyes as you leaned into his warmth, your bump touching him first as you hugged around his chest, “Bucky most babies aren’t born on their due dates you know, I just want to make sure everything is perfect around the house and ready”.
“Everything IS perfect, please just rest”. You relented to him, feeling tired already from the ten minutes of standing, moving to sit on the couch when a period cramp suddenly began in your lower abdomen, causing you to scrunch your face up in pain, especially as it was followed by a large kick to the ribs.
“Woah, are you ok?” Bucky asked, his hand cupping your cheek.
“Yeah, probably Braxton hicks or something, it’s fine”, you say, finally sitting down and putting your feet on the small table. Bucky didn’t seem convinced and continued to be a mother hen throughout the rest of the night, even though the pains subsided after you had a nice warm bath.
As your due date came and went, you were becoming restless, needing the baby out, feeling overwhelmed with how big you felt, wanting to meet the baby and hating waiting around. It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried everything either. Eating spicy foods, and going for walks, especially up and down the stairs which was incredibly uncomfortable with how low the little bean’s head was sitting in your pelvis. You’d even had sex a few times, Bucky was more than happy to hear that nipple stimulation could induce labour but still, nothing happened.
Those period cramps would come and go throughout these days as well, getting your hopes up before they disappeared and still, no signs that your labour was even happening.
On the fourth day following your due date, you awoke suddenly in the middle of the night to another period cramp that started in your lower back and spread around to your front. Even though this felt different, you didn’t want to wake the boys and get theirs or your hopes up as you tried to slide out of bed without waking them to use the bathroom for what felt like the tenth time that night.
“You ok, baby?” Steve asked, his eyes still closed but his hand reached for you in the darkness.
“Yeah I’m, ok, go back to sleep Steve”, you encouraged, touching the back of his hand before pushing yourself up and waddling to the toilet, using it and then realising just how wide awake you were and the dull ache of the pains still lingered so you decided to run a warm bath. During the time that it was filling up, you had another pain which took longer to subside but this was always how it started with the intensity increasing but after the bath, it usually stopped.
However, even as you let the warm water settle over your body, easing your muscles but the pains continued but at least the little bean was lovely and happy as he or she gave you a powerful kick to your ribs. The next pain had you gritting your teeth, eyes clenching closed as you held onto the side of the tub, waiting for it to pass but this pain lasted for nearly a full minute, and you decided maybe it was time to take some pain relief.
Standing and awkwardly climbing out of the bath, you dried your body and picked up your night dress to pull over your head when another pain came and took your breath away, your stomach hardening and causing you to moan lowly, bending over to blow the pain away.
“Honey?” Steve shouted from the bathroom having heard your moan as he waited for you to come back to bed. You couldn’t answer him as the pain consumed you, and he was rushing to be by your side, Bucky following closely behind him. Steve rubbed your back slowly as your pain finally began to ease so that you could look up at them both.
“Wow, that one was strong”.
“You ok? Can we get you anything?” Bucky asked, stepping forward with worry etched on his face.
“I’m ok.... I think… I don’t want to get my hopes up that this isn’t contractions but fuck, it hurt like hell”, you muttered, bending over to pick up your dress from the floor and then a trickle of clear liquid dripped down the inside of your leg. All three of you noticed as you tentatively looked up, “Is it bad that I can’t tell if I’ve just wet myself or if that’s my waters…”.
Neither of your worried boyfriends had time to answer as another painful wave came and had you doubling over, leaning your head against the sink. Steve was quick to grab you and let you lean against his strong body, remembering what he had learned from the antenatal appointments to help you through the pains, “That’s it baby, breath in and out, nice and slow”. It helped to listen and ground yourself through the pain as Bucky’s cold metal hand rubbed against your lower back, helping to ease the intense pressure from the baby.
The pain lasted for the same amount of time as the previous one and the clear liquid, which was definitely not urine, had gushed out more, forming a small puddle onto the floor. “Ok, I think it’s time we call someone”, you decided.
Bucky kissed the back of your head as he ran to get the phone and Steve helped you to pull your shirt on, his thumb brushing your chin as he sensed your anxieties, “You’re going to do amazing my love, we’ll be with you every step of the way”.
#mafia au#mafia steve rogers#mafia bucky barnes#mafia bucky#bucky barnes#bucky#bucky x reader#bucky one shot#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers one shot#bucky fluff#steve rogers fluff#stucky one shot#stucky x reader#stucky fluff#mine*#stucky
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cry baby | chapter one
Summary: Cry Baby went on a date? And, it wasn't with Bucky?
Warning: Smoking. Alcohol, tipsy motorcycle driving. DON'T DRINK AND DRIVE KIDS. Crying. Bucky is so toxic but sweet, I'm a fool.
Word Count: 1528
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A/N: I speed-wrote this so the posting schedule wasn't out of sync, but ooops hit the post now button too early. Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B
Tags: buckys0whore | @thezombieprostitute
Three months passed since that night at your apartment, in that time, the routine had become almost ordinary. It was a pattern, Bucky would show up at your apartment bruised and grazed up, and you would patch him up. Without questioning why or how it happened. The worry still gnawed at the back of your mind.
Summer had settled over the city, warmth wrapping around everything from the streets to the bar. The familiar sounds of laughter and motorcycle engines roaring became clearer as you got closer to the bar. Already late to meet your friends as is, you began to walk a little faster.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the prettiest face in the city,” Rumlow drawled, his eyes raking over your body, making your skin crawl, as you walked passed him and his group of friends to get toward the door of the bar.
“Rumlow,” you acknowledged as you tried to move past him. He stepped in front of you, blocking your path.
“What’s the rush? How about you and I have a little chat?” a smirk tugged at his lips as he began to reach up toward your cheek.
You glanced around, hoping to spot a familiar face that wasn’t loyal to Rumlow, but the street was eerily quiet. “I’m meeting my brother, excuse me.”
He leaned in closer, his hand now reaching your cheek. Gently caressing it as he continued to speak, “I’ve been watching you, you know. I’ve always wondered if you taste as sweet as you look.”
Panic surged through you, and you took a step back, your eyes darting toward anything but his. Unbeknownst to you, Sam Wilson had pulled up outside the bar, just in time to witness the interaction.
Without hesitation, Sam dismounted his motorcycle and strode toward you. “Is there a problem here?” Sam’s words cut through the air like a knife, drawing the attention of both you and Rumlow as he grabbed him by the scruff of his jacket.
A sign of relief escaped your breath at the sight of Sam, grateful for the timely intervention. Rumlow, on the other hand, sized up Sam with a gace before deciding to retreat, bringing his hand up as a show of surrender.
“I’ll see you around,” He said toward you, his tone dripping with implication before he turned back toward his friends.
Same watched his every move, his expression guarded. He turned to you, once he was assured Rumlow wasn’t an issue anymore. “You okay?” he asked, offering a reassuring smile.
You nodded, and the weight of the tension lifted. “Thanks, Sam.” Same returned the nod, giving the area another look around before leading you into the bar. His protective instincts were still alert.
Inside, the rest of the group noticed as both you and Sam walked through the door. You all exchanged greetings as you slid into the booth next to Bucky. The scent of your vanilla perfume mixed with the smell of smoke and beer, a combination that had become comforting to him.
As you settled into the booth, Bucky rested his arm over the back of the booth behind your head. “Took you long enough,” Natasha gestured her bottle toward you before taking a quick sip. “The date went that well, did it?” She couldn’t resist making a joke at your expense.
Bucky’s eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of a date, his jaw clenched as your cheeks rushed with heat. “A date, huh?” he remarked, sarcasm laced in his tone.
You began fidgeting with the edge of your sleeve. “Um, yeah…” you mumbled, trying to avoid the gazes of your friends and especially your brother.
Before you could dwell anymore on it, Steve redirected the conversation, but the sense of Bucky’s fist clenching not far from your head made the unease linger.
Throughout the night, you found yourself stealing glances at Sam, unsure of how to navigate the aftermath of the situation outside. You began replaying his words in your mind, causing your emotions to get the better of you.
Bucky sensed your sudden quietness, catching one of your sniffles. “What now?” he mumbled, only loud enough for you to hear.
“Just ran into someone outside,” you sniffled again, glancing back at Bucky with tears in your eyes. “It’s fine now,” you shot him an unconvincing smile.
“Yeah,” he began as he picked up his bottle, “looks like it.” he glanced back down at you as he took a swig.
~
As you stepped outside, you watched as your friends began to retrieve their motorcycles, getting ready to leave. The six of you began mumbling goodnights to each other, you telling each of them to drive safely, as Bucky stood watching by his motorcycle. He offered you a tentative smile and gestured toward the helmet on his seat. “Need a ride?”
You nodded, and he passed you the helmet as you climbed onto the back. The ride was exhilarating, wind whipped through the stray strand of your head as you clung to Bucky’s waist.
“Thank you, Bucky,” you said softly as you dismounted after he turned off the engine outside your apartment building.
“Anytime, Sweetheart,” he paused before he turned to face you, his expression serious. “Can we talk for a minute?” he asked, his eyes searching yours as you passed him the helmet back. A knot formed in your stomach, and you nodded sheepishly. “I hope your date went well.”
You shifted uncomfortably, feeling self-conscious you pulled your cardigan further around you. “Um, yeah, it was okay,” you mumbled, trying to avoid his gaze.
He began to chuckle softly, sensing your nervousness. “Just okay? Wow, sounds thrilling,” he remarked with a sarcastic tone.
You managed a weak smile, his teasing making you feel more embarrassed. “Um, well, it was our second date,” you admitted shyly, fidgeting with the edge of your sleeve. “He asked for a third,”
Bucky’s eyebrows raised in surprise, but the playful smirk never left his lips. “Oh, did he?” an amused tone in his response. “Looks like you made quite an impression then,” he continued, his tone was still playful but yet, intrigued. “Is it Sam?” he questioned.
Your head shot up to meet his gaze, and confusion spread across your features. “What? No, it’s, um, well it’s,” you paused, your nervousness causing you to hesitate. “It’s a guy from work, John Walk-,”
Bucky’s playful demeanor vanished in an instant, anger replacing the simmer in his eyes. His jaw tensed, and his eyes narrowed into a hard glare as he processed what you admitted.
“John Walker?” Bucky���s voice was low, a dangerous growl, the name left a sour taste in his mouth.
You nodded, “Yeah, um, he’s just a guy from work,” you hesitantly replied, thrown off-guard by Bucky’s transformation.
“That son of a…” his voice trailed off, the words barely contained his fury. His anger seemed to intensify, his voice rising in volume as he continued venting his frustration toward you. “I can’t believe you’d even consider going near him!” he bellowed, words echoing through the empty street.
You flinched at the force of his outburst, each word felt like it was a physical blow. “Bucky…” your voice quivering with emotion.
His features contorted in anger as he continued, “You don’t understand!” He was consumed by his rage, causing it almost impossible for you to hear your voice asking him to stop. “He’s dangerous, he’s… he’s not someone you want to be involved with!”
Each word began to cut deeper than the last, leaving you feeling vulnerable, the tears spilled down your face. “Please, Bucky,” you shouted back at him, your voice rising in desperation, “stop shouting at me!”
Your raised voice caught Bucky off guard, his anger faltering the moment he finally looked down at you. At that moment, he saw the tears, the fear, and the hurt. The realization that he had caused it, hit him like a punch to the gut.
Bucky let out a heavy sigh as his features softened, the red lights in his eyes dimming as he reached down to gently wipe your soaked cheeks. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured, every part of him filled with regret, “I… I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“Sh-shouting at m-me like th-that doesn’t hel-help,” your voice shaky, and interrupted by hiccups. His gaze truly softened as he took in your words.
With that, he pulled you into a comforting hug, holding you close as you both took a moment to calm down.
“Let’s get you inside, sweetheart,” he mumbled, his voice now barely a whisper as he felt your shaking subside. You nodded, sniffling as you pulled back from him.
That night, you both walked up to your apartment, and Bucky kept a protective arm around you. Once inside, you realized tonight would be different. Usually, you’d make your way to the kitchen and begin patching up his wounds.
“Let me take care of you for a change,” he said, leading you toward your couch. He fetched a warm face cloth and gently wiped away the tear stains on your cheeks. You leaned into his comforting touch, a new sense of safety enveloping you.
---
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#cry baby series#cry baby#bucky barnes x cry baby#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes#bucky x you#bucky x y/n#bucky x female reader#bucky fanfic#james bucky barnes#bucky fic#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#biker au#biker!bucky
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a miserable pile of secrets [9-1-1 | Eddie Diaz & Hen Wilson | 1/1]
1.8K words | friendship | emotional hurt/comfort | implied/referenced cheating
a miserable pile of secrets [on AO3]
She finds Eddie up on the rooftop, which makes sense, given that Buck is currently working out his feelings on the heavy bag after Bobby finally snapped at the two of them to get their acts together unless they wanted to be benched. Chim's down in the weight room with him, which means that Hen is up here in the warm night air to talk some sense into the other half of their codependent little unit, who is currently perched on one of the folding chairs that they usually leave up here. He's as still as a statue, tense like he's afraid of what his body might do if he lets it move.
"Hey," Hen says, and he gives a jerky little nod of acknowledgement. "Mind if I sit?"
"Go ahead."
"Thanks." She pulls out one of the other chairs and sits down. "So."
"Bobby sent you."
"I sent myself," she corrects mildly, and watches Eddie's shoulders hunch a little. "I don't think I've ever seen you and Buck fight like that."
Though the truth is, she really only caught the tail end of it. Buck's frustrated voice rising on, "Do you hear yourself? How did you think this was going to work out? Have you even thought about Chris? What, you were just going to introduce him to her like—"
"Chris? Since when is how I parent my son any of your business?"
"I don't know, Eddie, you kind of made it my business when you put me in your fucking will!"
"Yeah, well, maybe that was a mistake!"
There was ringing silence in the wake of that. Then Buck said something quieter, inaudible from where Hen and Chim were standing frozen outside the locker room door, and Eddie spat, "Go to hell. I'm done talking about this."
The door slammed open and he stormed out, only pausing for a moment when he saw the two of them standing there. It wasn't until he'd already stomped up the stairs to the loft that Buck emerged, scowling.
"I don't want to talk about it," he snapped, before either of them could speak.
That was six hours ago. Neither of them has said a single word to each other since outside of the bare minimum on calls. The tension in the back of the truck has been thick enough to cut with a knife, and none of Chim's increasingly desperate jokes has done a damn thing to lighten the mood.
Hen doesn't blame Bobby for being fed up with the pair of them. She's caught somewhere between that and worry, herself. This isn't like them. Either of them.
Eddie shrugs again, tense. "I don't really feel like talking about it."
"Mm."
Hen kicks her legs out, relaxes into the chair and waits him out. It doesn't take long. Maybe two minutes before he lets out an angry little huff and says, "Marisol dumped me this morning."
"Oh," Hen says. That explains some of the mood, anyway. "Well, I'm sorry to—"
"I cheated on her. She found out."
She closes her mouth. For a moment she just looks at him: his tight jaw, his hands in fists on his thighs, so tense he looks like he's about to snap. Like looking through a warped mirror to a younger version of herself, and maybe that's why she manages some gentleness when she says, "That doesn't sound like you."
"Yeah. That's what Buck said. Shows what he knows."
"Why'd you do it?"
"It doesn't matter. It was stupid. I fucked up."
"If you're waiting on me to tell you otherwise, you'll be waiting a while." Eddie lets out a sharp, bitter little bark of laughter, and Hen adds. "I've been there, you know."
"Yeah. But it's not—Karen forgave you."
"Eventually, yeah. She didn't have to."
"Yeah," Eddie says, and then doesn't say anything else.
"Is that what you and Buck were fighting about?"
He shrugs again. Like talking to a damn teenager, Hen thinks. Not Denny, with his easy sweetness, but like one of the other kids who come through their home sometimes on temporary placements: already on the defensive, claws out, ready to fight.
"I guess," he mutters finally.
"You put him in your will?" Eddie scowls at her, and she shrugs. "Hey, if you want it to be a secret, maybe don't have your domestics at the top of your lungs in the locker room we all use."
He scoffs, clearly annoyed, but doesn't get up and storm off, so she's counting that as a win. Finally, he says, "Yeah. He's down as Chris's legal guardian if something happens to me. Since—uh, since I almost died in that well collapse a few years back."
Oh. Hen contemplates that for a moment, squares it up in her head with what she already knows about Eddie. It's not, she'll admit, completely out of left field. But still. "And you think maybe that was a mistake?"
Eddie groans, dropping his head back. "I shouldn't have said that. I didn't mean it."
"Maybe you should tell Buck that."
"He's pissed at me."
"Seems mutual."
"Yeah," Eddie says, wry and still kind of irritated. But then he sighs. "You ever do something where you know the whole time you're doing it that it's going to blow up in your face, and somehow that still doesn't stop you?"
"Yep," Hen says, remembering a dark little motel room and the sharp cut of Eva's smile. A whole damn pile of fuck-ups, that relationship was, and she dragged it along with her to almost ruin the best thing in her life.
"I keep thinking I see Shannon. It's like she's just around the corner, like if I turn around fast enough, she'll be there, and I'll be able to go back and make it right. But I can't."
"No. You can't."
"It's been five fucking years."
"No timeline on grief."
"I went on a date with a woman just because she looked like her." Hen raises her eyebrows at him. He slouches lower in his seat. "A couple of dates. It—didn't end well."
"Mm. You mean because she turned out to be a whole damn person who wasn't Shannon, or because your girlfriend found out?"
"Both," Eddie mutters. "Believe me, I already heard it from Buck."
"Oh, I believe it."
"But he's—" Eddie snaps his mouth shut.
"Kind of a hypocrite on this particular subject?" Hen offers.
"That's not what I was going to say. He's with Tommy now. So."
"So?"
"Never mind. It doesn't matter."
Hen would dearly love to interrogate that line of thinking, but she keeps her mouth shut. For a little while, they don't speak. It's a transient kind of peace; their next call could come at any minute. But for now, the city's as quiet as it ever is, lit up and beautiful in the distance.
Eventually, Eddie shifts in his chair, straightens up like he's bracing for something, then says, abruptly, "Can I ask you a personal question?"
Hen raises her eyebrows. "Go ahead."
"Have you ever been with a guy?"
"Excuse me?"
"Forget it," he says quickly, hunching in on himself again. "I don't even know why I asked. You can tell me to go to hell."
She almost does tell him to go to hell. Has her mouth open and everything. But then she takes another good look at his face and lets the words dissipate.
"No," she says finally. "Kissed a couple of boys in high school, but I pretty much always knew it wasn't for me."
"Oh." Eddie's mouth twists. He's still staring a hole in the concrete by his feet, and Hen wishes like hell that this was easier for him, that he could have stumbled into it with wide eyes and open arms without leaving a trail of wreckage in his wake. Buck managed it, but it's not like that for everyone. She knows that.
"Karen was engaged to a man, you know," she says, and she watches him still, watches him turn, finally, to look at her.
"I didn't know that."
"It was a long time ago. College sweetheart. She called it off a week before the wedding. Broke his damn heart, from what I hear. Probably better in the long run, though, all things considered."
Eddie laughs at that, a raw, horrible little sound. "I was a bad husband to Shannon. I loved her so much, and I still could never—and I always thought that maybe, if we'd just had more time, maybe I could have gotten it right, and we could have been a family again, and it would have been okay."
"But she died."
"She asked me for a divorce."
"Oh." Hen takes a breath, lets it out. Careful, careful. "I didn't know that."
"Nobody knows that. I mean. Bobby does. But nobody else. Because she died two days later, so I never had to—to tell anyone. I never had to admit it. I could keep pretending. But it doesn't even matter, because I've also fucked up every relationship I've been in since. So it's kind of obvious where the problem is."
"Mm. You know what my mama used to say?"
Eddie cuts her a look. "What?"
"Get down from that cross, we need the wood."
When he laughs this time, it sounds a little more real. Hen nudges her knee against his, and for a minute they sit there together in silence.
"I fucked up," he says again, but it's calmer.
"Yep."
"What the hell do I say to Buck?"
Not Marisol, Hen notes. Though the truth is she's pretty sure that whole relationship was dead and gone long before whatever went down this morning. Maybe from the very beginning. Eddie's just got a bad habit of dragging those corpses around. "Sorry might be a good start."
"He's gonna ask why. I don't have a good answer. I can't—" He looks over at her, and all Hen can think is that he looks so damn young. "I can't."
"So tell him that. You know he's not gonna push it."
"Yeah, he will."
"He's worried about you."
Eddie scoffs. "Yeah."
That was, Hen surmises what the fight was about in the first place. Unstoppable force, immovable object. Sometimes she wishes she could just knock their stubborn heads together until they showed some sense.
"He loves you," she says, and Eddie flinches.
"I know that," he mutters.
Hen sighs. "Just talk to him. You don't have to tell him anything you're not ready to tell him, but just—talk to him. Okay? For all our sakes."
"Yeah, okay," Eddie says, sounding defeated. "Sorry about that."
"We'll survive," Hen says. She bumps her knee against his again, and they sit there together in silence, watching the city lights, until the bell starts going off below.
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So I've seen a lot of posts that use Danny Todd or Respawn in reincarnation ideas. Couple that with a severe lack of sleep and a desperation to not do any or the various assignments I have and I got a gloriously stupid idea. What if Danny were constantly reincarnating?
We begin with Thomas Wayne Jr. Older brother to Bruce Wayne and brain damaged serial killer turned acrobat? (Boy the 70s were wild) anyhow after Thomas Jr. heroically takes a bullet for his brother, the higher powers that be decide he was given a rotten hand in life and decide to let him reincarnate.
Enter Danny Todd who has yet another tragic life. He tries to shield his brother from the terrors of the world and give him a good life. He even joins a gang and dirties his hands so Jason doesn't have to. The unfortunately ends with Danny Todd losing his life with the fire escape he's on collapses. The powers that be cough awkwardly as they realize this new life was just as terrible as the first. Therefore they try again.
Bam! Daniel Fenton comes bursting onto the scene and his life is actually pretty good. Sure his parents are a little obsessed with their research but by no means are they neglectful. Plus Danny is smart, talented, and driven. What a great life, nothing could possibly go wrong with this one! Until Danny turns 14 and promptly gets zapped. Now this right here opens up a whole new can of worms as Danny's newfound half ghost status gives him access to his past lives. Nothing too grand. Just little memories or feelings here and there but these glimpses seem to be getting clearer as time goes on. Too bad there's no time to focus on that though with all of these new ghost baddies stream in. Speaking of ghost baddies, during the events of TUE, Danny ends up sacrificing his life to save his family and erase Dan from the time stream.
So.... he's dead. Again. Geez what is with this kid dying younger and younger? Why can't you just live a long happy and fulfilling life!? *Sigh* That's it. Maybe what your soul really needs is some peaceful eternal rest. Wait where did he go? What do you mean he fell into a reincarnation pool? Who did he reincarnate as?!?
Respawn, son of Slade Wilson and Talia Al Ghul, opens his eyes. He has four sets of memories competing for dominance in his mind. Which leads him to be very confused and given his parentage/training, very angry. The only times things ever seemed to calm were when he was stalking Damian around his new family. Is that what he needs? The Waynes? But they already have Damian. Respawn would just be the spare if he joined them. He didn't like that. Replacement however - though still mildly annoying - he could get behind it.
#dp x dc#dc x dp#dpxdc#dcxdp#winter's tales#is this idea crazy stupid and confusing?#oh absolutely#do i think it's going to get any remote bit of traction?#definitely not#did any of that stop me from posting?#clearly not or we wouldn't be here now would we?
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"House, is that you? What are you doing here?"
House turns around, taking a big sip from his cosmopolitan. Thirteen glares at him like he's toxic waste and shouldn't be here- well, he kinda is. He smirks at his own thought.
"I'm -"
"House!" Wilson slings his arm around House's shoulder, face red from the alcohol and hair tousled. His breath smells like tequila - they didn't have any shots together.
Thirteen's eyes grow bigger at sight of Wilson while House squints at him. "Did someone buy you a drink?" he asks, having to shout a little over the music.
Wilson giggles. He's probably had more than one shot. "He called me pretty," he says. "I didn't want to be... impolite."
House scoffs. Wilson is never not polite and right now he's just horny. He's put on his horniest dress shirt and it's half unbuttoned already. One more drink and he'll do a striptease on the table. House can't have that.
In front of him Thirteen seems to have trouble putting whatever she's seeing in context - which is ironic, because the context is right around them, waving little gay flags and playing George Michael on blast.
House decides to give her some time. She's probably in shock and annoyed he didn't come out to her at any point. Like he would. He doesn't want to be any diversity poster boy - not like the one next to him probably will end up as if Cuddy gets one whiff of his homosexuality.
His hand finds Wilson's jeans' right pocket. He slips in and finds a piece of paper. He gives Wilson's ass a good squeeze, Wilson's back straightening at that, but he doesn't say anything. Just looks at House with his big "fuck me" eyes, knowing exactly what he's doing.
- it's some Ethan's number. House glares at Wilson, Wilson's grin is crooked. He might be pretty, but he's also petty.
"We're leaving," House tells Thirteen, the same moment Thirteen blurts out: "It has been so obvious all the time how could I not have seen it?"
House snickers. "Wilson didn't see it also - he closed his eyes whenever he looked at his gay face in the mirror."
"Hey-" Wilson purses his lip.
"His pretty face," House whispers in his ear and Wilson's laugh might House's favorite note, the best he ever played.
"Let's go home, honey," House singsongs, now louder for Thirteen, popping a Vicodin. "Time to fuck until you forget all about Ethan."
Thirteen is already texting on her phone - and on Monday House will have to endure Chase's bitching about not knowing that his boss was banging the hot oncologist next door.
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Here’s To Us - Wade Wilson x Fem! Reader [NSFW]
tags: MDNI, comic version Wade Wilson, voyeurism, shared shower, grinding, dominant Wade Wilson, sub reader, Venus Butterfly, squirting, slow sex, double orgasm, creampie (first of marathon sex series)
word count: 6.3 k
synopsis: Wade's street neighbor needs to use Wade's hot water.
a/n: i refuse to apologize for this.
Wade gave you special access to his apartment once in a blue moon. Mostly for a short list of reasons. One, your water was out and you needed a shower. Two, Wade had left the window open and wanted you to take care of the stray named Bea. Or three, when he was definitely home, trying to relax in his downtime, and wanted some serious company.
And you were surprised you were that type of company. Not that Wilson was intimidating, but you feared that if you looked too much, you’d make him uncomfortable.
But he was a rugged, scarred man from head to toe. And it was hard to take it all in without staring. You didn’t know what it was, but you weren’t trying to be rude, you just wanted to silently trace every divot of his skin with intrigue.
It was as if you were looking closely at a renaissance painting and noticing the cracks in the paint, the hardened bits on the canvas.
Thankfully, this was not that third option today. It was a shower. Your landlord had once again shut off the water in your apartment and was now the hardest to get ahold of. After a long night of fighting, you were grimy and in need of a shower.
Rifling through your bag, you found the spare bronze key detailed with a Hello Kitty key cover and a Golden Girls keychain that read ‘Stay Golden, girl!’
You bit back a low smile, that keychain always giving you a bite of happiness every time you came across it. You wondered if it ever did the same with Wade. You clenched the key in your hand and turned around in the stairwell, leaving your complex to stop at the edge of the sidewalk.
With a double take down the street, you bolted across it and directly into the complex on the opposite side. You wished that you lived right next door to Wilson sometimes; though that’d mean you’d both be shit out of luck with the water.
Taking the stairs two at a time, you rushed to the third floor and stopped in the front of Wilson’s perfectly decorated door. He’d mentioned that he used to practice throwing knives at it, and he recently got into whittling.
You shook your head at the etchings in the door, no doubt that was coming out of his security deposit, and used the key to unlock it. Pushing inside, you shut the door firmly behind you then dropped your bag to the counter.
You grabbed your phone, barely taking in Wilson’s cleaned up studio. There weren’t any pizza boxes on the counter, or any extra beers on top of the fridge. This mission must’ve been a long stay away.
With a shrug, you made your way to Wade’s bathroom and searched for his Bluetooth speaker. The second pairing on your list with how often you were over here now, with how often Wade preferred your taste in music.
Shuffling your playlist, you kicked off your shoes outside of the bathroom then peeled off your shirt and kickboxing shorts in a swift motion. You turned and saw yourself in Wade’s busted mirror, noting the already yellowing skin patch over the back of your shoulder.
You reached for it, feeling at the edges of it with a grimace before leaving it and stripping off your sports bra next.
You turned towards the shower, the curtain already peeled back with the porcelain scrubbed spotless. So he was going to be gone for a real long time.
Damn.
You turned on the old-fashioned knobs for the water, before turning on the middle knob to start the shower head. Peeling off your panties, you stepped into the spray while the music blasted into the room.
You stood under the spray, allowing the water to batter your face and rush down your head to your shoulders; you took the time to stretch your neck and shoulders, then bent to touch your toes.
The hot water felt amazing for your muscles, melting the tension from them. The music helped, each song that came on a natural bop. You slowly swayed your hips to the music before really getting into it, moving slowly to roll your body with the song and mouthing off the lyrics.
It was like being at home after a minute, then five and finally ten before you realized that you hadn’t cleaned up at all. With a snicker to yourself, you searched around Wilson’s shower for a soap bar, then lathered it quickly between your hands. You moved around so quickly, you stopped at a heart-wrenching speed when you noticed someone in the doorway.
“Shit,” you said, reaching for the shower curtain and avoiding Wade’s eyes.
“Sorry,” Wade offered, quickly averting his gaze. “So sorry, that was not an invite. But what’re you doing here, kitten?”
You gulped at his pet name for you; you shrugged further behind the shower curtain, fumbling to crumple it into your soapy hands.
“My water’s out again.”
“Oh,” he stated, looking behind him and leaning back, possibly getting a good sight of his window facing your complex. “You want me to talk to your landlord?”
“No,” you shook your head. “No, it’s okay, really. I’m sorry. I should’ve asked, Wade.”
“You’re fine,” he drew out, pulling himself upright before quickly meeting your eyes. “It’s fine. Just...don’t waste all my hot water.”
You blinked slowly in recognition to his request, then nodded. “In and out, three minutes.”
Wade smirked, leaning further into the doorway. “Now I know you’ve been in here for more than ten.”
You opened your mouth to retort, but your face gave way to your efforts. “How would you know that?”
Wade casually cleared his throat, straightening up and dropping his hands to his grey sweat pockets. “Just...speed it up. This jet lag kicked my ass.”
You opened your mouth to say something else, but Wade reached for the door to shut it.
“I’m done,” you lied, still half-lathered in suds.
“Really?” Wade deadpanned, his browline quirking with a quick once over.
You gulped lowly at the thought of his gaze raking over you, taking in your body shape. You pulled the curtain closer to you, tucking your thigh behind it with a clear of your throat.
“I’m done,” you offered again, reaching for your soiled shirt now resting on the toilet lid. “I’ll get out of your way.”
Wade scoffed and reached for your soiled clothes. “As if you’re getting out of my hair that easily. Rinse off or I’m coming in after you.”
You were taken aback by his teasing, watching as he scooped up all your clothes and walked out of the room with them. He returned shortly after with a dingy red long-sleeve and a pair of boxer shorts.
“They’re clean, I swear,” he promised, bringing the blue-white striped shorts to his scarred nose for a sniff test. “Washed ‘em a month ago.”
You rolled your eyes at him then sheepishly offered your thanks. Wade tilted his head at you then glanced to the shower head.
“I wasn’t kidding, get to rinsing.”
A shock bolted through your body and you pulled the curtain closed to rinse your body off.
“You got thirty seconds,” he warned from the doorway, making your heart race as you thought of everywhere you lathered up. It was more than enough time and if you ended up soapy, that was your own fault.
“Twenty seconds.”
This man’s concept of time moved way faster than yours. Fuck it, it was time for whore’s bath technique. You spun around in slow circles, using your hands to swipe down the rolls of water from your shoulders. It was going to be good enough.
“Eight seconds,” Wade gave as a final warning, his hand already gripping at the edge of the curtain to peel it back.
You were done, all that mattered was getting out. You were going to get out as soon as Wade backed away from the curtain. Your hand reached for the thin veil of plastic and peeled it away to come face to face with Wilson, or moreso Wade Wilson’s pectorals.
They were definitely pillowy, if you ever wondered. But you obviously weren’t as you looked down to get your footing ready, only for your eye to catch onto Wade’s flaccid cock.
You shied away from looking, now bemused by the sight you’d taken in. You shifted to the opposite end of the tub, letting Wilson step into the spray while the remaining water bounced from his skin and onto you.
Wade pushed the curtain away, allowing you easy access out. You dangled a foot out of the tub, ready to dry off, but took a long glance at Wade’s scarred back, parts of his skin torn away to reveal hardened muscle. You hid back a seethe, wondering how painful that must’ve felt everyday with what he did for a living. Whatever that was.
“You wanna get my back?” he asked innocently, acknowledging your stare.
“Sorry,” you muttered under your breath then reached for the soap bar on its designated ledge. “Yeah, I can.”
You lathered the soap in your hands then carefully rested your palms to Wade’s back. Every muscle under your touch seemed to relax, allowing his shoulders to slump forward.
You ran your hands up, crossing over the backs of his shoulders, then down to follow parallel to his spine. You avoided the muscle patches as best you could, meeting your hands at the small of his back and then up again.
Wade groaned at that, bowing his head in the spray with a low ‘thanks’ at your effort.
You nodded, holding your hands into the spray of the water to rinse them. You said nothing, just stood back to watch the suds roll down his etched body. The rivulets caught into the deep scars of his skin, making intricate swirls on his body before falling.
It felt like watching a stained glass window being battered with rain, captivating and time-wasting. Wade glanced over his shoulder at you after a long moment and dared another smirk.
“Like what you see, kitten?”
You tried to speak, but stammered, diverting your eyes from Wade’s tight, scarred back to the floor of the tub. “I’m getting out.”
“No, stay,” he taunted, his tone teetering on genuine as he turned around. “I’ll let you get a look since I saw yours.”
You squeezed your eyes shut, already pushing away the want to look at his front. “I’m good. That was my fault.”
You peeked through one eye and stepped out of the tub, reaching for the boxers Wade set out for you.
You kept your back to him as you pulled them to your waist, rolling the waistband over a couple times to get the desired length for you. Then you went for the shirt, popping your damp head through the hole with your arms to follow.
“You in the mood for some Chinese? I could definitely go for some kung pao.”
You stopped in the doorway and looked back at Wade. “You want me to stay for dinner?”
“Of course,” Wade said with a shrug. “Unless you’re in the mood for Greek, then I’ll kick you out on your ass.”
You smiled, “Chinese food sounds good to me.”
-
You ordered food and sat on Wade’s couch while he showered, taking his sweet time with the remaining hot water. Not that you felt cheapened in the slightest, it was his apartment after all.
Even with the deepest part of you wondering if he liked what he saw or if anything arose in his mind, you stowed all of your emotions aside when the delivery person knocked on the door. You stood up and went for your bag, rifling through its contents to produce money for the food.
Slowly opening the front door, you exchanged the food and money then shut it with your ankle. You set the food on the clean kitchen island, going to untie the first bag as the bathroom door opened and steam billowed out.
“I’m feeling fresher already,” Wade announced, draping his towel over his shoulders while he wore his signature sweatpants low on his scarred hips.
You scrunched your nose. “Those clean or did you miss laundry day?”
Wade walked around you, letting off a little excess heat accumulated from his shower waft onto you. “You think I’d give my last bit of clean clothes to you? And miss that opportunity of you streaking around here?”
You bit back a nervous grin, biting at the inside of your bottom lip. Maybe he did like what he saw.
“I just changed into these off of my flight,” he said, reaching for the second bag and undoing its tie. He reached in, grabbing at the boxes of food then spread them out on the counter.
“How was your trip?” You asked, a trivial question in the scheme of your friendship, or whatever this was. Labels were hard. He only ever knew about your job, only ever knew what you did for extra cash.
That seemed to be how he wanted it.
Wade opened a box of lo mein noodles and selfishly took a large forkful into his mouth to avoid answering, then he raised a finger at the recognition of one of your songs still playing on the speaker.
He hummed, nodding at the song before grabbing your wrist and turning you in a circle. You rolled your eyes at him, following his movements hesitantly eventually falling into place.
Wade chewed his food quickly, swallowed then turned you around again, pulling your back into his chest. His hand raised yours in the air, his fingers slipping down your forearm and bicep then further down your side and finally grabbing your hip.
You swayed slowly in the rhythm, attempting to ignore the hardened feeling of Wade behind you. But he was a presence difficult to ignore.
You hummed at the feeling of his length brushing against your ass, falling into the music as Wade rested his chin to your shoulder.
“You sure know how to pick ‘em,” he offered, his other hand making small circles on your thigh.
You agreed inside, filing yourself tighter to Wade and chasing a feeling you weren’t sure was good. When the song ended, Wade slowly released his hold on you.
Still his chin was rested to your shoulder, lifting to brush his lips to your ear as his nose swiped against your damp hair. You turned your head after Wade’s, wanting to find something to say but your mind going blank.
You quirked a brow before Wade’s hand snaked up your arm, draping it behind his neck; he turned further into you. his lips slowly molding to yours. The salt from the lo mein cut into your mouth as your hand palmed at the nape of his neck.
You warred on pushing him away, that sliver of you wanting to keep this as cordial as possible. But inside, you were melting, your knees feeling like jelly as you gave into your arousal for him.
Fuck, Wade was a good man. A good-looking man despite his hardened exterior. His body was more of a marvel than the average man, there wasn’t anything you could take away from that. Your hand slide across his as it rested on your thigh, drawing his touch further in.
You arched into him, feeling his cock free in his sweatpants. Now you know that dance wasn’t all for nothing either. Why couldn’t you have just gotten your hands on each other sooner?
Wade’s lips parted from yours, trailing across your cheek then to your neck and down before shrugging one of the shoulders of your shirt down.
"Wade, fuck," you exhaled, already exhausted with waiting.
His lips were warm and soft, dragging against your skin and making goosebumps in their wake. You were almost antsy to have more of him, working your hips into his and getting intoxicated from the friction.
"Don't be so impatient," he said with a low snicker against your skin. "I'm trying to woo you, not fuck you in a gas station bathroom."
You threw your head back and laughed at that, folding your hands over his to feel something similar to a hug. Wade drew his lips back and took little sharp bites at your earlobe with his own chuckle to follow.
You gave up that instant, relaxing against Wade and allowing him his moment. Wade tsked against your skin, letting you go and stepping back.
"What're you doing now?" You asked, turning around to face him, chilled from his absence.
Wade stared at you, determined, while he stroked his chin in thought. "Hush, I'm thinking."
You geared yourself to say something but didn't have a moment to think; Wade rushed at you, grabbing your waist and hoisting you up against him.
Your legs crossed around him, his hands holding you steady while your chest pressed to his.
"Shit," you whispered, the sudden lift making your head go afloat.
You draped your arms over Wade's shoulders and leaned in to kiss him again. Wade carried you over to his bed and dropped you onto it, following soon behind with making your body his sole business.
His lips made work of yours, teasing his tongue into your mouth while your stomach rumbled at the hint of food. You stifled down the thought as you raised your legs, parting them for Wade to dip between them.
He rolled his hips against you, pressing right at the seam of his boxers to your clit. Your eyes fluttered at the feeling shooting through your stomach, adding to the warmth and firmness of Wade's chest against yours.
Your hands slid along Wade's shoulders, then up and around the back of his neck as you pulled him in. His tongue lapped against yours, making you submit and follow his lead.
You were aware of everything about Wade then, making out with him like a lousy teenager. His hands at your thighs slipped up under the boxers to grab handfuls of your ass.
He pushed you further into him that way, earning an unwarranted moan from your lips and into his mouth. You felt his lips curl at that, how your knees were clenched at his waist as his crotch was pressed a bit harder to yours.
Wade pulled from your lips and allowed you to breathe, your chest heaving. He rested his hand to your chest, his fingers steady and spread out between your breasts.
"That's so cute, you're so excited," he teased, dragging his hand down your body then back up, slowly pulling your shirt up to reveal your stomach.
The fabric was caught onto his middle and index finger, his ring and pinkie caressing at the underside of your breast.
"I like that. It's been a while since I've seen that," Wade whispered, leaning in and sliding his lips across your stomach. "Since I made someone nervous."
You scoffed at that, but it came out a shaky exhale as Wade's lips rested just below your belly button. His nose circled your navel then trailed a line up, his breath wafting over your skin.
The chill worked up your back, tickled between your shoulders as you curled your toes against his sheets.
“Bullshit,” you muttered, your hands rested just at Wade’s shoulders.
He hummed, smiling against your skin as his hands rested at your waist, peeling your boxers down to kiss at more skin. Your stomach tightened the further he traveled, each warm kiss causing a lick of electricity between your hips.
Your knees braced tighter at Wade’s sides until he readjusted further down on the bed. Suddenly, his nose was rested directly against your mound, his tongue carefully lapping at the top of your slit.
You stifled a swear, squirming under Wade’s tongue; you drew out a low pitch, not knowing what to do with yourself.
Wade sat up on his knees, using his momentum sitting up to strip your boxers from your legs. Wade’s eyes raked up your body, taking in each vulnerable bit of your skin. You wanted to play coy, tucking the edge of his shirt between your legs but enjoyed his raw attention more.
The dark admiration in his eyes made fire alight in your belly, suddenly realizing how wet you were for him.
He took hold of one of your knees, spread your legs apart with one draping over his shoulder as he lie down on his stomach.
“I’m trying not to drool right now,” Wade quipped, his voice stripped down as he pressed his lips to your inside knee. “You good?”
Your brain registered his question and sat up on your elbow, stomach tight while Wade blew soft air against your pussy. You nodded eagerly, your throat dry and unable to form a sentence.
“Fuck yes,” he grinned, kissing at your opposite thigh, dragging his open mouth and tongue to your inside hip. “Tap me if you want out,” he suggested, using his hand to bend your other knee at an angle.
He flattened his tongue to your clit and your ass immediately grinded to the bed. Wade huffed in amusement, drawing a hand around, touching up your thigh and to your waist before slipping under your ass and to the front of your pussy.
Wade circled two fingers before your entrance carefully, gathering your wet and spreading your lips apart. Your breath hitched, finding an edge to twitch your hips in effort to get more.
He pulled back again, “There you are, being impatient again.”
Your brows furrowed at his leaving, your clit twitching at the cool air left behind. He smiled, glancing down at your pussy as his two fingers slid into you. Your legs threatened to clamp shut but Wade’s body held them open; he returned between your legs and resumed his tongue on your clit.
Your head flopped back to the bed at the combination of sensations. Wade’s free hand pressed on the inside of your thigh, pushing it further open before gripping at your inside hip.
You felt vulnerable, spread open like that to Wade's entire apartment. To Wade. You tried to shut your eyes, clamping a hand over your mouth to stifle your noise for the sake of his neighbors.
"That's not fair," Wade hungrily muttered against your clit, taking a second away from it to grab your elbow. "I put in this work to hear you."
That caused more wet to gush from you, feeling Wade's fingers curl and brush his fingers against your tight walls. He tapped when he found what he was looking for, causing another bolt to rush straight up to your clit which he received with a lap of his tongue.
He was giving himself morse code, using your body as the vessel. You couldn't help the pitchy whine that escaped you then, with Wade peeling back the hood of your clit with his tongue and suctioning his lips around the nub.
"Shitshitshitshit," you metered out, trying to breathe but hold onto the air for fear it'd escape as noises. You raised up on your elbow again and stared down at him, trying to hold your knuckles away from your lips.
He unlatched from you, staring from under the shadow of his browline. "I can't hear you, kitten. You're gonna have to be louder."
You shook your head, already fighting the losing battle as his fingers regularly tapped and pumped in you. Your head dropped back, staring at the ceiling while you tried to catch your breath in a few pants.
Wade took that as opportunity to return to your clit, sucking a bit firmer and showing off with his tongue. Your toes curled, your knees trying to shift off of Wade and out of his grasp, but he held tight.
"Aww honey, we ain't even halfway done yet," he cooed, unlatching from your clit with a loud smack.
The string of his saliva mixed with your wet trailed to the hood of your clit, making you melt at the sight.
"I call this one the Wilson stamp of approval," he taunted, resuming his place at the helm of your pussy.
He suctioned his lips again, this time slowing his movement while his fingers pumped a bit harder.
A moan finally escaped your lips, followed by a seethe between your teeth. "Wade, Wade I--"
Your hand reached for Wade's shoulder though you couldn't reach it; you opted to touch at the top of his head, ready to tap out.
That was until he started using his tongue to sign his name.
W-A-D-E...by the end of his first name, your legs were officially shaking. The fingers were definitely not helping the situation.
W-I-N...He was spelling his full name? You were putty now, your hand at his head only holding him there while he slowly sealed your fate.
S-T-O-N....your eyes were twitching, your body clenched hard on the precipice of something so tortuous and euphoric.
W-I...he drew his tongue in a long, slow swoop down, meeting a tap of his fingers to dot his 'I'.
You were done for. Your breath was now a full-blown pant, your entire body sweaty from holding out. Your pitch heightened with each pump of his fingers, his warm mouth only driving you home.
"Yes, yes, yes, yes, fuck fuck fuck..." you worked up, allowing yourself to actually make noise.
Wade's name spat from your lips, pushing his head just a little harder as you finally came, your body in shakes while you rode out the galvanic lashes across your back, between your thighs and up your stomach to your fast-beating heart.
You were so overcome with the pleasure, your pussy forced Wade's fingers out of you and you were wracked with a newer feeling that tightened your stomach to release.
Wade pulled away in a split second, his chin splashed with your juices, while he was in awe of your newfound...technique.
You caught your breath, staring at the ceiling while you folded your arm over your eyes. Your thighs were now wetter than before, your clit now throbbing.
"Hello waterworks," Wade teased, leaning over to kiss at your stomach again. "I wish I'd known that sooner, I'd have saved it for later."
He made his way back up your body, trailing softer pecks against your skin. Wade pressed his cock in his sweatpants against your mess of a pussy, earning a roll of your hips.
His hands were on their way to slipping up your shirt, eager to undress you, but he sat away to meet your eyes.
"You wanna keep going?" he asked, now nuzzling against the side of your neck.
You stared into Wade's eyes, then flicked your gaze to his puffy pink lips.
"Fuck yes," you nodded, meeting his gaze again and grabbing at the back of his neck.
You pulled him into a kiss, turning him onto his side while you tried to reach for his sweats. Wade chuckled against you, assisting with the shedding of his pants before turning on his back.
He held you over his waist, kicking off the ankles of his sweatpants.
You sat back from Wade to get a full look of his hard cock. It looked like the rest of him, but a bit more preserved.
You reached for his cock at the same time he reached to peel off your shirt; you allowed him to pull it off of you, his hands massaging at your breasts as you tossed the shirt off the bed.
You bent and took grip of his cock, leaning in to lick. He was already leaking pre-cum from his reddened tip, no doubt warming you inside. You had done that to him.
"Uh, babe, you don't have to do that," Wade tried, the confidence in his tone dipping.
"Oh, you don't want me to?" You asked, dragging your tongue along his cock, licking a stripe along the underside.
"I--fuck," he swore, dropping his head back with a deep exhale. He raised his head with a low suck of air between his teeth.
Wade reached to touch at the back of your neck, over your shoulder, then further before taking a tender handful of your ass in his hand.
You hummed at his touch, giving him a slow stroke.
"So," You smiled, resting his tip to your lips.
You kissed at it, your lips curling to take him in. "Do you want me to?"
Wade pulled back, staring down at you as you stroked him again. He pulled his scarred bottom lip between his teeth, not finding the words but nodding.
You slowly took him in your mouth, slipping some of your spit down his length. You slicked it with your hand, pulling more of his cock into your mouth.
Wade folded his hand to his chest, turning his nails in. You could tell, by him holding back, how eager he was.
The thought made your pussy flutter, thinking of Wade going hard. But first you wanted to reward him for eating you out so well.
The tang of his pre-cum livened your saliva, hollowing your cheeks to suck him a bit firmer. Wade's hand roamed up to his mouth, ready to stifle himself but you reached out with your free hand to clasp his elbow.
He told you, now you were throwing it right back at him. Wade grit his teeth before a strained noise escaped between them, a choked gasp before he seethed so verbally you were almost concerned.
"Fuck, okay, okay, I can't take this," Wade grit, reaching to gently pull you off of him. He kissed tenderly at your sloppy lips, puffed out and wet from spit. "You do wonders to me, kitten but I need to be inside you. Can I please be inside you, now?"
He crawled, switching up your positions again so your head almost dangled over the edge of the foot of the bed.
You followed his direction, if only to see Wade from an entirely new angle. Finally shedding the ankles of his sweatpants, he draped himself over you.
His cock touched your inner thigh, sending a warm shockwave right to your core. Your chest rose and fell in anticipation, your breathing shallowing as you met Wade's gaze.
His eyes were half-mast, inches from you, and waiting for the okay. The enthusiastic consent.
You grinned at him, tilting your chin up to peck his lips. "I wanted to suck you off."
"We got time for that," Wade whispered, nudging his nose to yours. "Later."
Your hands brushed around his broad shoulders, down to his waist before bucking his hips against you. "How long can we keep going?"
"At least all night," Wade said, taking your lips with his. "I'll take a week, if you wanna stay."
His mouth dipped to your neck with a peck. "A month if I really take my time."
Wade kissed further, leaving his warmth to dissipate in his wake. You tilted your head at the bathroom, the speaker finally shutting off.
Wade followed your diverted attention, his fingers slipping down your thigh before petting softly at your clit.
"Three months if you get distracted often, six months if I'm gone for too long..."
Wade made his way back up to you, working his best at your clit and earning an eager flex from your pussy.
"Let's just chalk it up to a year for good measure," Wade husked against your lips. "That sound good to you?"
Between the way he talked to you and how he touched you, you were feeling more eager for Wade to actually fuck you.
"Yes, so stop wasting time now." You grinned against him, edging up on your elbow to curve your body against his. "Fuck me, please."
Wade's eyes lit up, kissing you hard at the same time of his hand sliding up to your hip. He held you tenderly, angling your hips up while your legs spread further.
He guided his cock into you slowly, driving a long, thirsty pant from your mouth before his.
"God fuck, Wade." Your hand rested at his neck, your thumb rubbing against the lobe of his ear.
Your forehead rested to his, glancing down between your bodies to see his cock sink into you. Your hold tightened, feeling his tip caress your g-spot.
He spared a cocky chuckle against your lips, "I know, kitten. I call it the Tardis, it's bigger when inside."
You exhaled in his direction, noting his shitty play on words and rolling your hips further to ease him more.
"Fuck, call me that again," you groaned, Wade's cock finally reaching the hilt.
Wade leaned into you, pressing your back to the bed and raising your leg around his waist.
"Kitten," Wade drew out, taking a moment to revel in the soft, wet pulse of your pussy. "Oh baby, that pussy feels as good as it tastes."
Your eyes rolled at that, rutting against the mattress before rolling up at Wade. The minimal movement you felt with the tip of his cock grazing the hot inner core of your pussy.
He managed to pull out a couple inches, easing himself back in with a deep hiss.
"I wish I could fuck you like I hate you," he whispered, pulling back out and running his hands down your legs before crossing both of them around his waist.
Wade took grip of your hip and pulled you up in his lap. He crossed an arm at the small of your back and used his tender strength to ease you up on his cock, then back down again.
Every sink back down, you felt a new wave of pleasure roll through you. You tried to meet his upward thrusts with cants of your hips but his hand stopped you.
"Take your time, baby. I wanna savor this," he whispered, raking his eyes down your body from your breasts to your mound pressed to his.
Your hands felt over his skin, your breath catching on his words. "Me too."
Wade hummed, flicking his gaze to meet yours; his eyes were fueled with a carnal hunger, leaning in to rest his chin between your breasts.
He turned his head, resting his ear to your chest while he huffed hot air against your nipple. You crossed an arm behind his shoulders to hold him there, following his steady thrusts with deep sighs.
Wade defied your expectations, making every touch personal and each thrust targeted to a pleasant experience.
You slowly came undone in his lap, draping your body over him as you were halfway to an explosive end.
Your arms crossed behind Wade's neck, leaning your forehead against his as his hands rocked your hips forward and back on his cock.
"Little Wade's gonna be all wrinkled when he's done in you," Wade muttered.
You scrunched your nose at him, wanting to smile but feeling the heat in your cheeks kept you strained.
"I'll make your cock a part of me," you whimpered as his thumb crossed to touch your clit.
You clenched then, moaning louder in his face.
"That's it, kitten. Make it your own." He held his breath, letting you squeeze his cock with your fluttering walls.
Slowly, your orgasm built from there; each thrust driving you further until you were coming on Wade's cock, tightening your hold on it while your clit pulsed in response.
"Wade," you heaved.
It was tight again, the new sensation returning with you wetting Wade's thighs and the mattress.
"Baby," Wade grit, stopping the rocking of your hips and letting you edge him towards release.
You felt his cock twitch inside you, making you flutter again. Wade dropped his head to your shoulder, a choking moan stuttering from his lips.
Your real name, not a nickname. You gasped, hummed in response as your arms folded against his back to hold him close.
Your fingers swirled against the back of his head, swaying on his waist as come spurt into you, dousing the inner fire Wade caused.
But that wasn't enough to sate you. You two stayed molded together in the center of the bed, catching your breath while soft noises escaped you both.
Wade was the first to part from you, pulling out gently and tossing you off of him. He climbed off of the bed, bent to grab his towel and threw it over his shoulder at you.
"Stay there," Wade said, streaking over to the kitchen island to retrieve the boxes of Chinese food.
You grinned at him, flopping back onto the bed and wiggling your butt over the towel to keep the remainder of Wade's bed clean.
"Kung pao, kitten?" Wade offered, kneeling onto the bed and setting the boxes precariously on the comforter.
You nodded, staring dreamily at Wade; he moved over to you, reaching for the towel to clean up the cum that was easing out of you.
"I'm starving," you added, turning your torso on your side. You reached for the box of lo mein, tilting your chin up to beg a peck from Wade. "Thanks babe."
Wade slowly broke into a smile, leaning after your lips to get another. "Call me that all the time."
You hummed, going for the chopsticks attached to the side of your food. Wade shifted onto the bed, crossing his leg and taking his box of kung pao with stealing the fork from your lo mein.
He opened the box and stabbed at the biggest piece, bringing it to his lips before stopping.
Wade watched as you picked up a sliver of broccoli intertwined with noodles and held his fork out. You quirked a brow at him, tilting your head before tapping your chopsticks to his fork.
"To a year of us," Wade smiled. "Hopefully more."
--------------------------------------------
(y'all remember when YY did a full seven minutes in heaven with several different anime characters and it dragged on for a bit? that's this fic for me. anything I'll want to write for others, I'll try it out with my wade wilson 😝)
#wade wilson#deadpool#deadpool x reader#fanfic#fan work#wade wilson x reader#wade wilson x you#deadpool x you#mss: bakeneko#bakeneko
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Surprise, Surprise, Greg House
Word Count: 1.1k~
Surprising Greg at work is always fun. Most of the time, he's messing around with the items on his desk until I walk in which ultimately causes him to perk up right away. I'm always happy to see him, and going by the smile that pops up on his face when he first sees me, Greg is happy to see me too. Plus, it always helps that we've been together for several years too.
"House, you have a guest," Wilson states, quickly popping his head into the doorway of Greg's office before popping right back out. Watching him walk back to the elevators, I wave at Wilson before opening Greg's door.
"Surprising," I hear Greg mindlessly mutter before I walk in. Once he sees me, he lightly smiles and changes his words. "Not surprising," He corrects himself, sitting up in his chair. "But pleasant."
"I brought you lunch," I tell him, gesturing to the bag in my hand with a smile. Placing the paper bag on his desk, I sit down in the chair across from him with his desk separating us. "That way you don't have to steal anyone else's."
"You know me so well," Greg chides, placing the magazine in his hands down before opening the bag of food. Taking all of the contents out of the bag reveals two sandwiches and two bags of chips with a bottled drink for each one. "Funny," He notes. "These are the things I would have stolen from Wilson."
Laughing at his sad, yet true comment, I separate everything out and place a Reuben sandwich in front of each of us, Greg already digging into one of the yellow bags of potato chips. "I'm glad I got to come see you today," I confess, the sight of the food making me feel a little sick. "I have some... great news to share."
"Oh, really?" Greg asks, looking up at me. I nod, smiling as he pushes his chair back a little. "Well, then why don't you come over here and tell me all about it?" He suggests with that ever so sly smirk.
Knowing what that means, I gently roll my eyes and stand from my chair before walking over to Greg and sitting on his lap. Instantly, he wraps his arms around me and holds me close, leaning up a little to kiss my lips. This is one of the very few ways Greg shows his love. He always says it's because he gets to hold me closer to him, but I think it's just because I'm sitting on his lap.
"You know," he begins his sentence, nibbling at my neck. "With one simple movement, you instantly have me at your will. How odd is that?" Greg questions me, his voice sultry and low. Smiling at him, I lightly giggle before pushing him away enough so he can look straight at me.
"Greg, I need to tell you something," I state, my voice a bit serious. Even though I'm trying to keep a straight voice without letting my excitement show through, I keep my smile in hopes of him not getting worried. I hope this news finds him well, and it doesn't make him mad or angry... I don't know what I would do if he left me because of it.
Leaning back in his swivel chair to look at me, he continues smiling while running his hand up and down my side. "Go on," he encourages me, his blue eyes staring into mine. "I'm listening, my sweet."
My cheeks slightly blush at the endearment before I look away, sudden nervousness hitting me. "I'm, uh, I'm..." Just as I begin to speak, I choke up before sighing. "I'm pregnant, Greg," I fully answer him, having the guts to look him straight in the eye as I do so.
He takes a moment to listen to me, only to fully realize what I'm saying within seconds. In shock, he stares at me with wide eyes before breaking out into a nervous chuckle. "You're serious, right?" He asks, making my eyebrows furrow. My reaction causes him to become worried as his smile drops. "Please don't be joking," Greg begs, placing his hands on my arms.
His words slightly... befuddle me. Is the cold and emotionless House actually excited about me being pregnant? For him to question me to make sure I'm not joking makes me... I don't know what it makes me actually.
Does Greg want a child? I know we didnt plan this little one, but there's no going back now. I mean, Greg is quite a few years older than me and I would've never thought he'd want a kid this late in life, but Gregory House is Gregory House. If there's one thing that signifies Gregory House, it's that he's weird and unusual, and he never conforms to what is socially acceptable.
"No, I'm not joking, Greg," I tell him, placing his hands on my stomach. "There's a little baby right here," With Greg staring up at me with big eyes and an equally big smile, tears quickly make their way to my eyes. "You're going to be a father," I whisper, leaning forward and placing my forehead against his.
A few moments of silence pass before Greg grins and wraps his arms tighter around me. In a quick turn of events, he stands up with our feet planted on the ground and his arms still around me, a giggle falling from my lips as he does so. Before I know it, Greg is moving my shirt up to place his hands on my barely swollen tummy, resting them there as I hug him to me as well. “Thank you,” He murmurs, smiling before connecting our lips in another kiss. At the same time, he moves his hands to my waist to hold me there, his hold reflecting the passion behind our kiss.
#house md#greg house#gregory house#greg house imagine#greg house x reader#greg house imagines#gregory house x reader#gregory house imagine#gregory house imagines#gregory house fanfiction#greg house fanfiction#house md fanfiction#house md imagines#house md imagine#house md x reader
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if reqs r closed pls ignore this sorry im genuinely so blind so idk if u were taking them rn, but can i request “the captain will have to get involved pretty soon” situation from that fic where a new lieutenant joins, overall just like a part 2 where price does have to get involved 😭😭 like ghost is just so annoyed with this man
Hey reader! 🍫 No need to worry; I don’t have a “policy” on requests apart from the nsfw thingy (i don’t know how to write smut). Whatever comes, I accept it wholeheartedly! :)
Synopsis: Ghost and the new Lt. get in a fight. Price handles the situation accordingly and nobody is happy.
Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader, Captain John Price
Word Count: 1,112
Notes:
For those who haven’t read Part 1, here it is.
Lots of swearing and mentions of physical injuries. Other than that, it’s fluff.
Want more?
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Yup. Unfortunately, the Captain had to get involved in the end.
Not just him, though; an entire room full of trained soldiers had to jump in and separate Ghost from almost strangling Lt. Wilson, or “Mr Toothless,” as he often referred to him.
Why “Mr Toothless”, you may ask? Well, Ghost decided to baptize the new lieutenant with that nickname for a couple of reasons.
First, he took your comment about Wilson’s fake teeth to heart. “If they’re fake,” he reasoned, “that means the fucker is already toothless and wears veneers to cover ’em up.”
And when you told him that’s not true since some people undergo cosmetic surgery to improve something they might have suffered an injury from, Ghost came up with his second reason as to why the new lieutenant is—or rather will be—toothless.
“Might have suffered an injury?” He contemplated. “Well, he’s about to suffer another one when I knock them out again.”
So, it was either “Mr. Toothless over there” or “Mr. Future Toothless one again.” Whatever the case, Ghost never called him by his real name, which started to piss off Lt. Wilson a whole lot. And that’s how it all escalated.
The breaking point came while at the briefing room, with Price at the head of the table and the two lieutenants seated across from each other. The rest of the team was strategically scattered around, avoiding being too close to Riley or Wilson. They were like furnaces, ready to burst at any time and burn you along with them, so you all figured it was best to stay as far away from them as possible.
Price was dividing the teams for the new mission: Team Alpha (Ghost’s Team) had to reach the target’s point by air, while Team Bravo (Wilson’s Team) would travel by land. The tipping point was when Price absentmindedly assigned you to Wilson’s team. Being Ghost’s Achilles’ heel, you were enough to light up a spark in the furnace. Wilson, on the other hand, was, in fact, a motherfucker. He knew that you, being assigned to his team, would piss Ghost off, so he turned towards you and winked upon hearing your name.
“Awesome,” he said, “doll’s with me.”
“Call them a doll again,” Ghost replied, “and I’ll make you as shiny and smooth as a Ken.” A threat that seemed nonsensical then but became clearer over time. And it wasn’t funny at all. See, Ken dolls lack organs, including a brain, heart, and, as Ghost hinted, a certain... anatomical feature.
And, as you stand in front of Ghost at Price’s office, tending to his cut lip and bruised eye, questions swirl in your mind. First and foremost, why is Ghost so obsessed with Lt. Wilson’s bones and limps? How was he planning to execute such a horrendous action? And how did he manage to leap onto the table and kick Wilson in the face like Leonidas did in the movie “300”?
“You fucked up big time, Simon,” Price warns Ghost as he paces around the room with his hands on his waist.
“He started it,” Ghost retorts.
“No,” Price shouts, running towards Ghost and inching away from his bruised-up face, “you landed the first kick, and then things escalated faster than a wildfire in a dry forest.”
Ghost sighs. “How is he?” He asks.
You look at him, shocked. This guy amazes you. All he wanted was to kick Wilson right in the face, and now he’s worried about his health.
“He is fucked; that’s how he is,” Price replies, “and you’re fucked too.”
“What’ll happen now?” Ghost asks
Price lets out a sharp chuckle. Not one of entertainment, for sure. Something that hints you’re both about to find out.
“I’m relieving Lt. Wilson of his duties in the field and relocating him to another position,” the Captain announces.
“Good,” Ghost replies. “At least he’ll be out of my business for a while.”
“Oh, on the contrary brother,” Price smirks, “he’ll be all up in your business now.”
You stop treating Ghost’s wound and turn to Price. “W-where exactly are you relocating, Lt. Wilson, Captain?” You ask, confused.
Price approaches you and wraps an arm around your shoulder, now both facing Ghost.
“I’m putting Wilson in the same office as you two,” Price says, smiling. “That is until you and him sort out your… issues.”
Ghost doesn’t react. He stretches his neck while looking at Price.
“You think I wouldn’t find out what the apple of discord was?” Price whispers at Ghost, “You and him either become best friends, or you’re both out.” He says. He removes his hand from your shoulder, adjusts his hat, nods at you, and walks out of the room.
You turn towards Ghost, who’s now leaning on his legs, looking at the floor.
“Look at me,” you command, “I still need to patch that lip of yours.”
He obeys and looks up. You sigh. As much as you trust Price and his strategic decision to put the three of you in the same room, you fear that the ball is now in your field. Juggling Ghost’s outbursts was something you learned to handle with skill and prowess. But including Lt. Harris in the equation is like putting two starving lions in a cage with an antelope.
“Why?” You ask, as you treat his bottom lip, “Why act so stupidly when you know it is you that I fancy?”
He looks away and shrugs. “He called you a doll.”
“And look where we are now, Simon,” you say. “Price gave you your last chance, and we get to have Mr Toothless with us at the office.”
“Won’t be an office anymore, love,” he mutters, “it’ll be a dollhouse full of Barbie and Ken dolls.”
You smile and lift his chin up with your fingers. “So, if I’m Barbie and he’s Ken,” you say, bringing your face closer to his, “who are you?”
“Oh, I’m Action Man, love.” He says and tries to wink with a swollen, already shut, black eye.
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Part 3 ->
#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x y/n#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley fanfiction#simon ghost riley fic#simon riley x you#simon riley x y/n#simon riley x reader#simon riley#ghost cod#cod ghost#call of duty#modern warfare 2#cod mwii#ghost call of duty#cod mw2#cod mw ghost
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Hii idk if you take requests but if you do could you write a fic where reader is married and pregnant with Wilson’s child and suddenly her water breaks in the middle of her work? This could be connected to the peds reader you did back then :) tysm <3
Mini Crown
Pairing: James Wilson x Reader
Notes: making this a sequel to “Glitter Crowns,” it seems quite fitting. So this is a head of peds reader!
Warnings: pregnancy, brief mentions of labor, House being House, brief mention of breastfeeding
You waddled walked around the clinic as quickly as you could, and that your husband would allow (lest he walked in and caught you walking at a rapid pace to help Cuddy in the clinic). You and James had already had a few disagreements about the idea of you working, but you told him you’d be fine for a few more weeks, it wouldn’t hurt the baby.
(You were wrong, at least the about you being fine part).
It was during lunch, you’d met with James while he flipped through the newspaper, picking at his meal sitting in mostly silence until you sat down across from him. He put his newspaper down and flashed his signature smile, taking your hand instantly.
“How are you two doing?”
“Fine as we can be,” you shrugged with a small smile and took a bite of one of your fries. You felt your husband’s eyes for a moment, but he accepted the answer and took a fry from you. You watched him for a moment, in a teasing way, and he only chuckled before he went back to his newspaper.
“Lizzie’s parents called,” he spoke.
Lizzie, the little girl you’d both helped when she was in the hospital under James’s care. After going through surgery, she was sent on her way. Even left you a small card.
“Oh yeah?” You questioned, sitting back in your chair at the slight twinge of pain in your back and going around your stomach. You ignored it though, bringing a hand to run along your belly as you smiled at him.
“They said she’s doing much better, and that she still wears that crown,” he chucked fondly at the memory of you doing crafts with his patience just over nine months back, an interaction that had encouraged the two of you to finally get a start at your family.
A few minutes passed of the two of you talking when you heard the familiar click of a cane on the floor.
“Aw look at the lovebirds,” House invited himself to the table, taking James’s newspaper and moving your food out of his way, but still managing to leave it within your grasp (he wasn’t that cruel).
“I’m trying to have lunch with my wife,” James protested, gesturing toward you with a frown; therefore missing the discomfort on your face.
“You live together,” House retorted, mocking James's gesture and admittedly making you chuckle softly. James playfully frowned in your direction, feigning anger at your "betrayal."
You chuckled at your husband’s face, then turned to House, “He’s not wrong, we’re trying to enjoy ourselves before the little one gets here.”
House looked unimpressed, and unable to take the hint given between both you and your husband. House began rambling, filled with his own complaints for the day. You stared at your food, more focused on the fresh fires and soothing the incessant pains you were feeling than paying attention to House.
“Honey?” James’s voice met your ears, filled with concern as he reached across the table, his warm palm covering your hand that was still resting on the table. He’d noticed the look on your face, and his brows furrowed as his large brown eyes scanned over your features, “Are you alright?”
Another wave of pain washed over you, and you flipped your hand over to take his in it, groaning slightly as you leaned in toward him and over your large stomach.
“You know, if you want me to leave you can just ask instead of faking contractions,” House looked over at you as he spoke, receiving a harsh glare from your husband as he stood to crouch next to you.
“Will you stop?” He muttered to the other doctor, then turned his attention to you, “Honey, come on. Let’s go…we can talk to Cuddy—“
“I’m fine,” you countered, shaking your head as you take a deep breath, “It’s early, Hon.”
“You knew it could happen any day,” James almost wanted to say ‘I told you so,’ but knew it would do nothing to help your situation. He instead placed a hand under your arm, letting you keep a hold of his other hand and helping you rise to your feet. His lips grazed your temple, and his voice was barely a whisper, “Come on…”
You breathed deeply, both you and your husband wanting to draw as little attention to yourselves as possible. But you were in the middle of a hospital, so you knew you could easily get help from someone else.
“Say bye-bye to sleep,” House called after the two of you, in a sing-songy way as he took your food and helped himself to what remained of the fries, his attention not leaving the newspaper as James guided you out of the cafeteria.
You didn’t even know how much time passed between your husband guiding you out of the cafeteria to your little boy being placed in your arms; the blue hospital cap sticking off of his head while James smiled down at your son from over your shoulder, his arm around your waist and rubbing up and down your side. He knew you were in pain, anyone with sense knew it.
You smiled at the little boy, his big brown eyes that matched his father’s looking back up at you. You hummed, dropping your head to James’s shoulder, “He’s so beautiful.”
“Just gotta hope he doesn’t look too much like his old man,” the sound of House’s voice almost made you jump. But it shouldn’t have surprised you. Your husband leveled a flare at the man, “What? I’m just bringing him his first cheap hospital teddy bear. We all know he’ll collect ‘em like crazy if he’s the child of you two.”
“House, I just gave birth, I’d like some time alone with my husband and son please,” you pleaded as House set the bear on the foot of your bed. You eyed it, then looked back up at him.
He held a hand up in surrender, “Fine, fine. Enjoy your time off.”
You rolled your eyes as he left. James chuckled and shook his head, then kissed your cheek, “You should get some sleep — I’ve got him.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes honey, I’m sure,” he gently took your son and allowed you to lay down. You fell asleep faster than you ever had before.
A few weeks had passed, you were still at home with the new baby, but James had returned to work for certain visits with patients. One of them being Lizzie. She’d been excited about the idea of seeing you, bringing in her crown and asking if it was possible to do a craft. James was sad to tell her that you weren’t at the hospital at the present time, but he was glad to explain why. There was nothing as exciting to him as being a new father, not anymore.
The girl was glum, but she understood, and her parents congratulated him on the new phase in life. It was a couple of days later, when someone from the oncology team dropped off an envelope on his desk. He recognized the last name, it was Lizzie’s. He was curious as he unfolded the envelope, seeing inside that there was a small paper crown, similar to the one you made with your patients and that Lizzie had been carrying around.
He smiled at it, noticing that it was much smaller than the ones you and the children you worked with made. A chuckle passed through his lips and he noticed a note as well, but left it be for you to read when he returned home, which wasn’t too much further away.
The apartment was quiet when he stepped inside, minus the faint noises of the television and you humming. James toed off his shoes and followed the sound of your hums into the kitchen. You were doing dishes, the baby monitor clipped to the waistband of your sweatpants and a tank top (the easiest for you to wear as a new breastfeeding mother) that was covered in a few stains. His McGill sweater was thrown over the back of a chair, you must have worn it at some point in the day.
“Having fun?” You turned at the sound of his voice, and the corner of your mouth turned up as you shut the sink off.
“I just put him down a little bit ago,” you informed James, smiling proudly as you quickly (but quietly) walked in his direction. Your arms slung around his neck instinctively and one of his hands found your hip, squeezing gently as the two of you kissed. You hummed, smiling up at him, “Welcome home.”
“I’ve got something for you,” he lifted his briefcase as emphasis.
“I’ve got my own one of those,” you reminded him teasingly, then got yourself a glass of water as he pulled an envelope out of the briefcase.
As your husband slid it across the table, you could see that it had already been opened, likely by him. You set your cup down as you looked at him curiously, silently questioning what brought this on. When you opened the envelope, a small sob passed through your lips and you reached inside to pull out the small crown.
“Oh my God it’s so cute,” you crooned, eyes wide as you turned it over, unflattening the item so it could sit properly. James smiled at your excitement as you took in its size and then looked in the envelope once more, your eyes locking on Lizzie’s letter. You looked up at your husband, eyes big and wet with tears as realization dawned on you, “Oh my goodness.”
Your husband chuckled, walking over to you and wrapping an around your waist as you pulled out the letter, the both of you reading it together.
Dear Doctors Wilson and Wilson,
Lizzie is insistent that we write to you for her, we’ve tried to tell her that it isn’t necessary, but she really does like you pair. We hope the gift alongside this has reached you and your little one without any damage, and we send the biggest congratulations ever! We’re so grateful for what the both of you did for our little girl, and you deserve this step in life!
Again, congratulations!
You had tears running down your cheeks when James looked up at you again, and he chucked as he gently wiped them away, then kissed your lips, “You’re an amazing doctor honey, and you’re a great mother. Our little man is so lucky to have you, so am I, and all of your patients.”
“Don’t get me to soppy,” you chuckled at him, sniffling and waving a hand back and forth in front of your face. He chuckled, looking down when soft cries echoed through the monitor. Before you could act he snatched the device from your waist.
“I got him, go rest, I’ll be back in a minute,”
You nodded, still holding the letter in your hands as James took the small paper crown. He made his way to the source of the cries, smiling down at the baby as he lifted him in his arms and brought him against his chest.
“Hello,” he said softly, glad to finally be holding his son after a long day. He bounced him up and down as he walked over to a shelf in the corner of the room, photos of you and James lining it, as well as the day your son was born. A picture of him and House (which House tried to bribe you into getting rid off) also decorated the shelf.
James tucked the crown next to a photo of you and your little boy, taken by James when you first your son into the nursery, “There…your amazing mommy had that sent by a patient, a nice little girl.”
James hummed as he looked back down at the baby in his arms, who peered at his father in slight curiosity. It was like looking into a mirror, if the mirror only reflected one’s eyes. James smiled as he looked at your miniature, with the exceptions of James’s eyes. He smiled, “I’m sure you’ll be making your own paper crowns in no time, hm?”
Author’s Note: hi hi! I hope you enjoyed, I did find it super cute to write. Don’t be afraid to send more requests ( I’d personally love some Foreman ones ngl )
#fanfic#fanfiction writer#oneshots#reader insert#gregory house x reader#james wilson x reader#house x reader#gregory house#robert chase x reader#robert chase#pregnant reader#james wilson#eric foreman x reader#lisa cuddy
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Operation: Avalanche
Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Sergeant!Reader
18+ only read at your own risk
Summary: Your first big mission on deployment doesn’t go as planned.
Word count: 3636
AN: Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.
This is Part 3 in my Sergeant Beef series. It is the main canon version of this very angsty AU I wrote.
“If we get out of here alive, I’m making Fury pay for my next vacation out of his own pocket!” Sam Wilson shouts, dropping onto his stomach as bullets fly over his head.
“Add me to that list,” you respond, yanking the empty magazine out of your rifle and popping in a fresh one.
“Sergeant, I think we need to retreat!” Peter Parker says in a shaky voice, a few yards away where he cowers behind a boulder.
When you don’t respond, your brain racing to formulate an escape plan, Sam does. “And where are we going to go?” Your team was cornered on the side of a mountain, gunfire raining down from above while the rustling of the bushes below indicated another group were coming up for you.
“Maximoff, did you put out the distress signal?” you ask.
“Already did, Sarge! Air support is three minutes out!”
Three minutes was a long time, especially in a hostile environment where every second of action counted.
BOOM.
A boulder, close to the one Peter was taking cover by, explodes into gravel. Everyone ducks and you watch your soldier slump forward, tangling in the strap of his own rifle, laying on his side motionlessly.
“We need to move!” you command. “Start heading east and stay away from the rocks!”
Sam looks at you like you’re crazy to take everyone out of a position of cover, but it’s not very good cover anymore if it can be used against you. You crawl down to where Peter lies, pressing your fingers to his neck and feeling a weak pulse. Adrenaline fuels you as you pick him up, throwing him over your shoulders, your knees protesting at the significant increase of weight, but you maintain a low center of balance and start running after Sam.
“Keep moving, keep moving!” you urge, your ears dulled to the gunfire around you. Your calves burn, your back straining to stay balanced on the uneven terrain with almost 200 pounds of extra weight on top of you. But you promised General Fury that you would bring home everyone on this mission, even at the cost of your own life.
Sam suddenly drops to his knee in front of you and for a moment you think he’s been hit, until he brings up his gun and fires at the bushes near the base of the mountain.
“Wilson, let’s go,” you pant, more concerned with getting out of the battlefield than trying to hold your own.
“Hold on, Sarge, I got a clear shot–”
Blood suddenly stains the side of Sam’s head. It isn’t until he turns to look at you, his eyes wide, that you realize the blood isn’t his.
It’s yours.
Your right leg completely gives out and a hot pain rips up your thigh, taking your breath away. Blood pools heavily on your fatigues and you know you were hit in a bad spot. Peter’s weight on your shoulders causes you to fall forward and you lose your grip on him as he rolls onto the ground.
“Wilson, Wilson take Parker,” you gasp, patting your vest for a tourniquet.
“I’m not leaving you, Sergeant,” Sam says.
“Get everyone else to safety. Keep moving until the bird comes in,” you say, your hands shaking as you struggle just to undo the velcro of the tourniquet.
“Sarge–”
“That’s an order.” There is no time for arguments.
“Let me help you, at least.” Sam takes the tourniquet and slips it up your leg, cinching it tightly above the wound until you can’t feel anything below the strap. He grabs Peter, placing him in the same fireman’s carry you had him in, and starts running away as you take your rifle out to provide coverage.
You prop yourself against a rock, firing at any movement in the bushes. Your heart hammers against your chest and you force yourself to stay focused and not to look after Sam and the other soldiers making greater and greater distance from you. While you would rather not be alone, bleeding out on foreign soil, you know this is your duty and the responsibility you accepted.
One minute until the rescue helicopter arrived.
You count down your bullets, firing sparingly but feeling like for every person you take down, two more appear. A bullet grazes your cheek and the pain is distracting but welcoming from the fear of death. You aren’t really ready to die, but if today is your day, you will accept it with grace.
You think about Natasha and how you hadn’t seen her in three months. How ferociously she fought your deployment and how devastated she was when General Fury wouldn’t budge on your assignment. The last few nights you two spent together were ones you would never forget, and you hoped you would get the chance to spend one more with her.
You twist around to fire near the mountain tops, unable to take on pressure from both angles. As you struggle to reload, another bullet catches you in the side. The pain is explosive and literally blinding as you fall onto your back, helpless and exposed, gasping for air with a punctured lung. You fight to sit back up, your fingers slippery and wet with blood as you maintain a death grip on your weapon. It feels impossibly heavy in your arms now as you try to lift it, using a rock as a crutch when you realize you’re too weak to hold it on your own.
Blackness threatens the edges of your vision and you’re painfully aware of how agonized your breathing sounds as you struggle to draw in air to stay focused. The trigger of your rifle feels like it weighs 1000 pounds, and every shot you take takes considerable effort.
You hear the whistle before the grenade impacts behind you, sending you flying into the air like a ragdoll. You’re not even sure which way is up when you finally land, breathing in dirt and blood. For some reason, you feel embarrassed that this is how they’re going to find your body, if your team gets to you before the enemies do. All the strength you had ever possessed, all the life you had ever lived, crumpled and crushed into a broken body.
You can’t keep your eyes open anymore, as hard as you try. All the noises surrounding you, the gunfire, the screaming, the explosions, seems to fade away. You think about Natasha again, her arms wrapped around you while you lie on her chest, listening to her strong heartbeat while she tells you about all the plans she has for you two. You’re still waiting for the day she finally says that she loves you, but maybe that wasn’t something you were destined to hear.
Unconsciousness takes you slowly and you finally give in, still hoping that your team escaped harm and that you would reunite with Natasha one day.
***********************************************************************
When you try to open your eyes for the first time, it feels like you have anchors attached to your eyelids. It takes you so much effort you don’t even think it’s worth it, until bright white lights cut through and you feel light-headed as consciousness returns to you.
“Y/N? Hey, Y/N?”
“Someone get the doctor.”
“Vitals are spiking.”
You hear voices but don’t recognize them, suddenly overwhelmed by an intense pain that attacks every bone in your body. You’re completely paralyzed by it, your teeth grinding together while you fight to stay awake, but after a few seconds, the pain starts to dissolve into a manageable numbness and you sigh in relief.
“Sergeant Y/N, if you can hear my voice, can you open your eyes for me?”
You’ve been trying to do that this whole time, but your body is reacting so slowly it’s frustrating.
“How about you move a finger for me?”
You try to heed the instruction, but now you’re so numb you’re not sure if you’re moving anything.
“It’s a lot to ask so soon after surgery. We should wait a little while longer.”
There is the shuffling of footsteps.
“Y/N?”
You recognize Natasha’s voice instantly and your eyes fly open, squinting at the harsh lights. It takes you a few seconds to focus on your surroundings, but you come to realize you’re in a hospital bed, wearing only a flimsy paper gown and the entire right side of your body is covered in casts and gauze.
“Y/N?” Natasha jumps up, holding onto your left hand that you see has a clear plastic tube taped to the veins. “Oh my God, you’re actually awake. How do you feel, baby?”
Your mouth tastes like you swallowed a handful of sand. It takes a second before you have enough saliva in your mouth to speak. “Wheremeye?” you garble out. Natasha grabs a white cup from the nightstand and holds it to your lips so you can take a few sips. “Thanks…” you gasp, surprised at how much saying one word hurts. “Where…Where am I?”
“Fort Sam,” Natasha answers. You notice how she hasn’t let go of your hand once. She’s dressed casually, her hair tied into a messy bun that would not pass even the most generous of uniform inspections. Her eyes are red and irritated, her cheeks dry, like she’s spent the last 24 hours crying.
“S-Sam?” you ask, you mind first going to your teammate.
“Fort Sam in Houston, Texas,” Natasha says. “They brought you here to the medical center after your mission was compromised.”
“Mission?” The memories come back to you in pieces. You remember the ambush, Peter getting knocked out by an explosion, carrying him to safety before taking a bullet yourself, then telling Sam to go on with the rest of the team while you stayed behind and tried to cover them. “My team…Where’s my team?”
“They’re fine,” Natasha says. “Parker had a minor concussion, and the rest had some scrapes and bruises, but everyone is fine.”
“Good, good.” You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if something worse had happened to your teammates, although you’re not exactly thrilled with your current position either.
“Do you remember what happened?” Natasha asks.
“A little bit.” But you’re not ready to talk about it and she can sense that.
“I love you,” Natasha blurts out suddenly.
“Huh?” you say dumbly, although you had heard her perfectly clear.
“I love you so much, and I was so worried when Fury called me and said your team had been ambushed and that you were in critical condition,” she rambles. “I didn’t know if I was going to see you again, and then I thought about how I never told you how I really feel about you…”
“Do you mean it?” you ask, wondering if this confession was just a result of the high emotions. Natasha was an infamously private person, even around you, but she had eventually warmed up to you in a way she hadn’t to anyone else before. Still, this was a level of emotion you had never seen from her before and you wanted to make sure it was real.
“I love you with all my heart,” she says, holding your hand tighter and leaning forward to kiss your cheek gently. “And I can’t imagine my life without you.”
“I love you, too,” you say, with as much passion as you can muster. You want to reach out and wrap her in a hug, hold her tightly and promise her that you’re not going anywhere, but you’re so weak you can’t even squeeze her hand back.
Natasha stays close to your side as the painkillers lull you back into unconsciousness. Her presence is comforting and you know you’ll be safe with her watching over you.
***********************************************************************
You wake up a few hours later, Natasha still next to you, and a doctor comes in to bring you up to speed. Your entire team had been evacuated from the field successfully, with you sustaining the worst injuries with bullets going through your thigh and right lung. You also broke your right arm when you landed wrong on it after being propelled into the air by a grenade explosion. Long story short, your body was a complete mess and it would be a few months before you would be back to your usual self.
Natasha cashed in all her time off to stay with you as long as she could at the Fort Sam base. You were a little surprised but grateful, and having her around kept your mind off the fact that you were stuck in a bed for weeks. You had a lot of visitors, most of them your superiors and co-workers, but you preferred Natasha’s company over any of them.
One day you’re watching workout videos on YouTube, jealously groveling over the fact that by the time the doctors let you out of bed, you probably wouldn’t be able to lift even 5-pound weights without a struggle, Natasha comes in with some plastic basins and a few towels folded under her arms.
“Hello,” you say, closing your laptop to give her your full attention. “What are those for?”
“Your nurse told me it’s your bath day,” Natasha says. “And I figured you might want me to help you over her.”
“Are you jealous?” you tease, as she goes over to the sink and fills one of the bowls with water.
“No,” she says, and you don’t believe her for a second. “I just want to make sure you’re taken care of.”
“Everyone here has been really good to me,” you defend.
“Yeah, but your nurse can’t take care of you the way I can.” She looks over her shoulder at you with a smirk.
“Oh.” Obviously, it had been nearly impossible for you two to be intimate because of your injuries, and with the number of medications you were on and everything else going on, you hadn’t really been in the mood. But when Natasha looks at you with lustful eyes, the blood rushes into your groin and you’re immediately light-headed.
Natasha comes back to your side and assembles all the supplies she needs. You watch quietly, not new to this process, but curious to see if she’s just as competent as your nurse was.
“Do you want me to wash your hair, too?” she asks.
“If it’s not too much.” You hate feeling so helpless and like a burden to others, even if it was their jobs. You still can’t even get out of bed to use the bathroom, and the mental effort it takes to summon the courage to press the call button when you need something is the equivalent of running a marathon.
“I can do that,” Natasha says. It’s rare to see her soft side, but you won’t tease her compassion. You suspect that she’s actually thrilled at this opportunity to take care of you, but again, you won’t comment.
She starts by laying you on your back and propping your head inside an inflatable basin. With surprising proficiency, she rinses your hair and lathers in a foamy shampoo, while you close your eyes and enjoy the massage. She nudges you awake and sits you back up, drying your hair with a loose towel.
“How is that?” she asks.
“It felt really nice,” you say.
“Good.” She’s acting almost strangely professional with you, but you don’t question it. She takes off your gown and wets a washcloth, wiping it over your face and neck, then across your shoulders and down your left arm. You notice her linger along the scar on your bicep and flex your arm experimentally to see her reaction. Luckily, it hasn’t been too long that your muscles have atrophied from the lack of use, but you want to take advantage while you still can. Natasha doesn’t say anything, but you see the corners of her lips lifting in a small grin.
She washes your chest and abs, careful around the gauze pad taped to your side where a bullet had spiraled through your ribs and poked a hole in your lung. When she lifts the gown off your legs, she chuckles at the fact that you’re not wearing any underwear and also ragingly hard.
“Uh, this doesn’t normally happen with my nurse,” you defend, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment, even though you’re certain this is as much of a turn on for her as it is for you.
“It’s okay. I’ll take care of that once I’m done washing the rest of you,” she says with a wink, and you feel yourself throb at the prospect.
She washes your legs and feet, then carefully rolls you onto your side to wash your back and butt. It feels awkward now to have her take care of you like this, for her to see how useless you are that you can’t even wipe your own ass, but she doesn’t say anything until you’re rolled back over.
“Almost done,” she says, grabbing a fresh washcloth and carefully wiping your groin area. “There we go.”
“Thanks, Nat.” You watch her take all the supplies away and wash her hands in the sink, suddenly feeling very sleepy despite the fact that you did literally nothing. You lean back against your pillows and close your eyes. When you open them only seconds later, Natasha is pulled up in a chair by your bedside.
“If you’re tired, you can sleep,” she says.
You shake your head stubbornly. Every second Natasha is with you, you want to take advantage of. Because she won’t be with you forever–literally, since in a few weeks she would have to return to Fort Bragg in North Carolina, and you didn’t know when you’d see her after that. It could be several more months that you were stuck here, working through physical therapy and any subsequent surgeries you needed. Natasha said she would try to relocate to a base closer to you, but she couldn’t make any promises.
You hold out your hand for her to take and squeeze her fingers as tightly as you can.
“I love you,” you say, fearing that you can’t get the point across enough. Your near-brush with death taught you a lot, most importantly how not to take any moments for granted.
“I love you, too,” Natasha responds, and the heart rate monitor embarrassingly outs your excitement when the beeping skyrockets for a few seconds. She laughs. “Well, looks like you can’t hide anything from me anymore,” she says.
“I wasn’t hiding anything,” you say, your eyes darting to between your legs, where you are still very exposed and very hard. “Also, you made this happen and you did promise you'd take of it," you remind her.
“I did.” Natasha reaches over and holds your cock in her warm hand. You try and fail to hide your excitement at her mere touch, glaring at the heart rate monitor in frustration. “Don’t be mad, it’s kind of hot how nervous I make you,” she says.
“I’m not nervous, I’m just happy you’re here,” you explain.
“Oh, I can see you’re very happy.” She starts stroking you slowly and you struggle to sit up so you can watch. Her thumb rubs circles around your tip and you sigh in pleasure. You had been entirely uninterested in getting yourself off when you had been alone, but with Natasha here, it suddenly feels right.
As pre-cum drips out of the head, Natasha wipes it off and rubs it up and down your cock, keeping a tight pressure with her fingers that almost has you moaning if you hadn’t stopped yourself. Your hips try arching off the bed, but the movement causes too much pain in your thigh so you’re forced to stay grounded. The muscles in your abs tense as you breathe heavily, helplessly reaching or the railing of the bed with your good hand to stabilize yourself.
“Fuck, Nat, that feels so good,” you whine when she adds her other hand, but even then your length is so big she can’t cover it all with both hands. Your cock is practically glistening with you own pre-cum now, and you tilt your head back into the pillow with a moan when Natasha rubs the sensitive spot below your tip.
“Don’t make a mess,” she warns, her hands jerking you faster, twisting her wrists in opposite directions. You squirm on the bed, embarrassed at how soon you’re about to cum, but you blame it on the medications and your lack of practice. As your breathing picks up, your side stretches and there is a lightning bolt of pain up your ribs, but you ignore it as the ball of arousal in your stomach tightens.The slick noises your cock makes as Natasha pumps you in and out of her hand are so filthy that your head spins.
“Oh, God. Please, Nat, I think…can I…I’m gonna…” You are completely incoherent as you watch Natasha jerk you off, throbbing in her hands so hard that she can feel your heartbeat. You have no idea how you’re not going to make a mess, unless she stops touching you, but you can’t think of anything you want less right now.
Without saying anything, Natasha leans over and sucks your tip into her mouth. The wetness and warmth of her mouth is too much and you grunt as you release yourself in a few rather weak spurts. She swallows everything you give her, her tongue licking up every drop, before she draws back and smiles at you. Your cock is limp against your leg almost immediately.
“That felt really nice,” you pant, flopping back on the bed, truly spent now. “I’ll return the favor soon, baby. I promise.”
She gives your cock a soft pat. “I know you will.”
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AN: And all is well again. It was nice seeing Sergeant Romanoff being soft with Sergeant Beef for once. :)
Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰
#natasha romanoff#black widow#natasha romanoff smut#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff x reader#sergeant beef au
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Costume Meta 7x05
Hello, Hey, how we all doing??
Ready for another super long meta post??
There is so much to talk about this week - admittedly mostly Buck and Eddie related, but there is also plenty going on for Hen and Karen as well.
No Bobby this week as we only see him in uniform, and only the one costume for Athena as well. I also want to say that I am not doing any of the costumes from the Madney wedding that we saw at the end of the epsiode - I want to give them the space they deserve and I will probably write a separate pre episode meta for those costumes specifically! All I will say is Maddie looks stunning, Buck in white - hello! and Eddie in a just a collar making him look like a pink priest - hilarious!
The rest is under the cut as always 😎
Let's start with some of the guest characters.
Alien Hand syndrome man continues to prove the check means bad things theme, which makes me happier than you can ever know!!
Then we have Deidra in her very bright pink coat. If you read my promo meta for this episode you will have read a fairly sizeable section at the end on my thinking about the use of pink in this season (going to make a separate post during this hiatus so its all in one place). All of the times we see it in this episode, play into (and I guess prove) my thinking. Deidra is acting with good intentions and while I don't think she's naive or innocent in the strictest sense of the word, she is perhaps continually being naive in thinking that not revealing Mara's past is the right way to go (don't come at me about child protection etc I am fully aware of what the real world laws state, but this story arc really highlights the fact that in trying to protect children who are at risk and in the system, they can also cause ongoing harm if things are not taken on a case by case basis - its a whole other essay that I am not getting into here).
Then we have Mara herself who is never without pink - namely her pink blanket. The pink plays into the theme of innocence especially with Mara and while she may not be innocent of the act of maiming Denny, her innocence goes much deeper. Its meant as a very clear signpost of the innocence of childhood - that pink blanket and her clinging onto it is a symbol of her clinging onto her childhood, despite the fact that she has gone through a terrible loss and trauma. she is still a child and the show is clearly going to play into the idea that as she settles into the Wilson home and is able to work through the trauma, her need to cling onto her childhood in this way will diminish and we'll see her slowly become less attached to the blanket. We already have signs of progress with the colour journey her tops have been on - lavender, pink and then the turquoise one at the end. Lavender is also a colour associated with childishness or lethargy, pink the colour of innocence, and childhood. While turquoise is a colour of calmness and clarity. its signalling HenRen's breakthrough with Mara and that she's growing and beginning to feel secure.
Hen and Karen
Hen and Karen go on a real colour journey this week - I'm doing them together (along with Denny) because they very much work in tandem clothing wise (and also because I was running out of pictures again - whats new there!)
So first up we have Karen in this beautiful dip dye ombre dress in purple, pink and mauve. it also has this drip staining pattern which has deliberately been created during the dying process. The lavender at the top of the dress is representative of hope and serenity, this is Karen in a great place - about to expand her family and fulfil a dream. The pink as I've said is all about innocence and naivety - more innocence in this case - both the new baby being innocent and Hen and Karens innocent hopes for their future. The dark mauve at the bottom of the skirt - eating into the pink is such a choice - gathering storm clouds, foreshadowing the turmoil about to come - taking away the innocent hope. mauve can be standoffish and withdrawn, and in this context those are great descriptors for Mara and her struggles that Hen and Karen will need to help her work through.
Hen's in cyan blue trousers - which is a colour associated with clarity and balance. whilst the cream, black and blue jacket with stars on is the beginning point for a theme that runs through the Wilsons arc this week - black is a power colour, associated with many things, but for Hen and Karen in this arc it is very much about protection and strength. Here for hen it is mostly about protection - protecting this new baby they are about to take in. The cream is warmth and tranquility.
Hen is wearing check - foreshadowing the upcoming struggles with Mara. Karens bronze and black Jacquard trousers are a symbol of strength - bronze as a colour means strength and support, it's also a symbol of faithfulness. It's telling us that Karen will take the lead on supporting Mara and being strong for her.
We see a lot of white on Karen in this episode, white, like pink is a colour of innocence, but it is more associated with purity and balance. It is also a colour of neutral refelction. By this I mean that it amplifies other colours by providing a neutral background - allowing other colours to shine. I find this a really interesting thing when connected with Karen - it amplifies her strength and supportive nature when the Wilsons meet Mara.
Hen adn Karen in bed are in dusty versions of blue and pink - Karen innocently tries to touch Mara and that is when the screaming starts. Putting Hen in blue is about relaying her trustworthiness and sets her up as a soothing and calming presence for Mara - hence the sleeping on the floor of her room!
At the hospital, We see Denny in red - he was wearing it when Mara woke the house up and its an indicator of what is about to befall them (in the same way Bobbys red in the cruise ship disaster adn Athenas red in relation to Harry, or Bucks back in s5 when Eddie broke down).
We again have Karen in white amplifying the other colour she is wearing, which in this instance is this buff/brown oversized sleeveless coat in teddy fleece. The brown is stability, dependability and responsibility - playing into the fact this episode really highlights Karen's position in the family as this stable rock which Hen and Denny lean on when they need support. Karen's unswerving and solid personality is once more being shown off. Its really a key thing for them to show as it feels like a set up for Mara and how she is going to bond and rely on Karen and that dependability as she unpacks her trauma.
The orange jumper is a really interesting choice. I do love the loose threads on the design of it - paying into the idea that Hen and Karen are at a loose end and unsure what to do going forward. But, the orange itself is generally an open minded colour, its energetic and its also a colour of transformation. These are all things we know are true of Hen and Karen and it hints at the fact that they will fin a way forward. Once again we have Karen in white amplifying Hen's orange and the energy and idea of transformation the colour brings.
Denim jacket and white tee. I love the distressed nature of this denim jacket and the way it plays into both scenes we see it in - playing into the distress Hen feels over finding out what Mara has gone through and how it explains why she has become non verbal and incredibly protective over her pink blanket.
Again the white of amplification and purity. Hen has pure intentions and the white amplifies Karens black when they are at dispatch listening to the 911 call.
We also have the Karen necklace back - once more showing this ism't about Hen - its about Karen and their family.
Black on Karen for this scene is such a choice. Black is a power colour, it means strength and protection. Here it is showing Karens determination, as she gains understanding, to protect Mara and support her through her trauma - it is representative of Karen choosing to use the power she has been given through gaining information. The gold highlights hint at success.
I love these lavender pyjamas on Karen - lavender is a soothing and sleep inducing colour (along with its scent which is possibly where the association came from for the colour) along with a Japanese print of mountains and trees, which plays into the idea of serenity and peacefulness.
Hen in contrast is wearing fairly bright and bold black and green. The green is all about that growth and learning once more, the growth of Hen and Karen, learning more about the issues Mara faces and seeking a solution, but also the growth of their family. The black is a reflection of power - much in the same way Karen wearing black when they heard the 911 call Mara made, here it is Hen, representing the protection that Hen and Karen are offering Mara.
Athena in green - again with the mesh open weave knit - this may be a theme for her this season - potentially something to do with feeling caged or caging someone/something - especially children as both scenes we've seen it so far have been to do with young people and the law in some respect - ending up in the system - Harry through is crime and Mara through her parents death.
Chim
This dark bottle green with a fawn brown (what I think is a polo) shirt underneath is Chimneys only non uniform costume this week . This kind of dark green, is as always a signal of growth, but its also a colour of harmony, and right now - everything in Chim's world is harmonious.
Maddie
I don't thinkI've said it yet, but I am so happy to have Alayna back dressing Jennifer - I feel like we're really back on track with Maddie's costuming after last season where they somehow managed to make Maddie look terrible. The costuming overall last year was fine - not as good as Alayna's work, but it was for the most part good - except for Maddie where it was all over the place!
Anyway - Maddie in black here is very much about focussing the attention on Hen and Karen - like with CHimney's muted green, in tandem they are making the viewers eye focus on Hen and Karen - especially Karen - who is the brightest in the room.
Maddie wearing this sage green colour when Buck comes out to her is sheer perfection from my perspective - we, once more have the green of growth and renewal, the green of learning - Maddie learning more about her brother - this new thing that he is realising about himself and choosing to share with her (even if inadvertently). But this green is also sage green - sage as in the play on sage advice - which we see Maddie give him. Buck needs that good advice - he needs to hear that its ok, that he can take the time to figure himself out and that its ok that he's only just uncovered this aspect of himself and that it doesn't invalidate him being an ally up to this point!
Ok not going to lie - I got a little carried away from here on out - so sorry in advance for the rambling mess you're about to read!
Marisol
I'm doing Marisol in a weird order - because I wanted to talk about her date night outfit in tandem with Eddies - because its relevant. So we start of with virgin Mary Marisol! Honestly this outfit is just perfection from the costume department - they saw the brief and went to town and I love it. Its so good to see what they can do when they get to play!
One of the things I really love about this costume is the blue that they chose. Because that blue - that is Bucks blue! the virgin Mary blue is usually a much brighter royal blue. It really helps to place Marisol in parallel to Buck and we get the play on t he fact that Eddie seeing Marisol in this way changes everything for him, whilst later on, whilst Buck is in the same blue, he reassures him that nothing will change between them.
Look, I'm not going to lie, when I saw Marisol in blue and yellow for this scene I laughed because Blue and yellow (as I've gone on a million times about) means queer coding so to blatantly put Marisol in it - in a washed out form, and very much connecting her to Catholicism - genius move. It marks her out as a roadblock, but also puts her into the role of beard (unknowingly on her part) because Eddie is still in the midst of his repression, even if it is beginning to unravel now.
The black top with spaghetti straps is clearly a theme they're going with on Marisol, as are the ditsy prints. The yellow high waisted trousers are interesting because of the specific shade of yellow. Yes the whole communication theme still applies here -and we see it in action, but this shade of yellow is sallow and sickly (one of the reasons its called sickly yellow is because its the colour of a lot of medications!!) - this relationship and its restart are ill and that automatically means its going to struggle to survive.
It plays into the more negative meanings around the colour - uncertainty and idleness and cowardice. For me the cowardice aspect is an interesting one in relation to Eddie - he has behaved cowardly up to this point - hiding out and not having the conversations that need to be had, and even in this scene it is Marisol who takes the lead.
It's really giving us an indication of things Eddie needs to work on in regards to himself - and once more it comes down to communication. Communication has always been Eddies major flaw - that he isn't good at it, unless really really pushed into it - essentially under duress. The other thing with communication is that it plays really well into the catholic guilt aspect - this idea that growing up catholic has taught him to repress part of who he is - to go along with what is expected of him, but that it also taught him not to ask for what he needs, to not communicate. We see it in this episode with his inability to say no to Marisol (the whole hiding out at Bucks so he doesn't have to have sex speaks volumes) even down to suggesting there's a third type of guy - who just needs a minute. Because, while that might be true to a certain extent, the fact that he says this off the back of her expressing her distress and upset about how all guys are one of two things, speaks volumes - its not him saying this because that's how he actually feels, its partly him saying it because he is pushed into a position where he doesn't want to be the bad guy. its really not a good place to be restarting a relationship from.
We also have the ditsy print of doom in play again - like I've said before, ditsy print on Eddies girlfriends - never a good sign - its really playing into this idea of Eddie jumping in headfirst with gay abandon (pun intended) and then regretting his life choices. Shannon wore ditsy print a fair amount - especially in the I think I'm pregnant' and 'we should get a divorce' scenes. Ana wore ditsy print A LOT - she was wearing it when Eddie had his panic attack in the shop and at other key moments that marked the death knell for their relationship. And so this appearance of ditsy print here marks the same - the relationship is not long for this world
OK date night Marisol. The way this outfit played out more or less as I expected, She was very much an 'innocent' bystander in this scene (whilst also creating one corner of a triangle with Buck and Eddie) , and the ditsy print very much played into this. Like I said in my promo meta, both Shannon and Ana were costumed in ditsy print as well as in lots of pink!!!
The other aspect of this outfit that is making me laugh is the fact that the skirt is giving me 1980's/early 1990's teen vibes (not to out myself as old but trust me I had some just like this back then and I wouldn't be caught dead in it now as a grown woman!!) and the baby pink handbag looks like something an 8 year old would have to play dress up with - its all very childish and immature - naive one could say, and while it didn't play out quite how I was expecting, her being a novice nun, sure explains a lot of why she comes over as pretty immature.
The other aspect of this childish style we're seeing on her plays into Eddies narrative of looking for magic and trying to recreate what he had with Shannon. He's attracted to Marisol because she is immature and childish - it reminds him of what he had with Shannon when he was young, and when you're trying to recapture that, its easy to fall into the trap of thinking someone behaving in a naive manner is you finding what you'd been looking for. Eddies journey, along side his catholic guilt, is about learning that he cannot recapture or recreate that magic he had when he was young - that the love of youth - in all its innocence is not something that is sustainable or actually what he wants in the present.
Then we have Eddie in white. I spoke in the promo meta about how the white set him and Marisol as opposites and that remains true - very true on more than one level. What I especially love about it and something I could not have predicted is how it plays into the novice nun aspect of their story this episode - truly this show is a comedy! Because nuns wear black and white this is an obvious play on that, but it is also a play on the fact that Marisol is still a practicing catholic, whilst Eddie is very much not. The other aspect of this white is that of Eddies two non uniform costumes, it is the first one and we get this black and white play on religion - the black and white of nuns and priests - the black and white of being religious or not. Eddie never questions if he wants to become a practicing catholic again - he is lapsed and that is how he intends to stay.
Eddie in uniform, with his green trainers, blue towel and water bottle. the blue towel and bottle play into the buck and Eddie blue green theming we see with them. But what is interesting is though is that Eddie is fulfilling all the colour theming on his own - he is both blue and green - to me this is about Eddies own struggles within himself as well as foreshadowing the Eddie Marisol break up down the line (green shoes suggest a road needs to be to walked before we get there) - it hints at Eddies internal struggles and implies that its will ultimately end in a break up a bit further down the line.
I also think it's only when in Uniform that Eddie can admit to his catholic guilt. Because we all know when Eddie is struggling with some form of emotional turmoil, he wears a black singlet - and he could've been wearing the same here, it would've been totally fitting with the situation - he is going through something emotionally and struggling with it.
But he's in his uniform. Part of it is to have him on a different level to Buck - they are both struggling with something in this scene. When we have previously had Buck and Eddie scenes like this one at work, the one dressed in uniform, tends to be the one offering advice to the one not in uniform. That isn't the case here. Part of it comes back to Buck not actually needing advice, but needing to reveal something about himself - to confess. Eddie is the one who needs advice.
This is a flipping of the traditional narrative for these scenes and is proof that even though Eddie might later tell Buck that nothing is going to change between them, that it has in fact already changed, it is just that neither of them are fully cognisant of that change at this moment in time. It is a key indicator to use the audience that this has happened before but that things are not going to play out the same way this time.
Put it this way - Eddie has form for doing something extreme with his relationships with women in the aftermath of Buck doing something dumb - its one of the manifestations of his repression. This time its asking Marisol to move in with him in the immediate aftermath of Buck going full green monster over Tommy.
Last time it was in the aftermath of Buck begins and then doubling down with Ana after the shooting when Buck had hooked up with Taylor and before that in the aftermath of Shannon's death and Buck suing the department he went and joined a fight club - but he has form. Its completely in character for him to pull this sort of a move. I know he says he's going with his gut but I argue he is in fact ignoring his gut - or at the very least confused about what his gut is telling him, because that would mean actually looking at why his gut reaction to Buck doing something dumb makes him do something dumb in turn connected to these women in his life.
Eddie in black - this is the same shirt as the white one - just the reverse colour - which is important. This shirt has several layered meanings to it. its about the reversal of what Eddie wants - from him being bubbly and excited about Marisol moving in, to the dread of her having moved in and wanting her to move out - his feelings go from white to black - light to dark - happy to unhappy and it all sums up the relaity of that relationship - while it was new and unserious, it was fun and light, when things got real - it becomes dark and oppressive.
I'll go into more detail about this shirt when I get to Bucks costume for this scene - because they are connected!
The other thing about this outfit is that the green trousers have been replaced with jeans. Now I see a couple of reasons for the wardrobe department doing this. Firstly is that it plays into the 'nothings is going to change between us' of it all. Its a visual indicator that in fact things have changed (along with Buck wearing a brighter shirt than we normally get in these buddie heart to hearts that take place in Bucks loft but more on that later) the Buck being bi and going on a date with Tommy of it all aside, this is the first time we've actively seen Eddie hiding out at Bucks to avoid his girlfriend - this was a barrier that had existed between them previously that has now been broken down. Then there is the fact that Eddie does go home to Marisol - and he couldn't be wearing green at that point because she was wearing blue and Eddie in green would've meant break up time - only the Marisol as a plot device arc isn't yet over (it will be soon I promise - all the costume signs are there!) so that couldn't happen.
Tommy
This dark olive green shirt that is almost brown. The brown undertones hint at the stability he represents while the green is hinting at his military past and once more paralleling him with Eddie. One of the things about green as a colour is that its not only a symbol of growth and renewal, but its also a colour of learning, and in an episode titled 'You don't know me' it feels like all the green is very much about education - learning about other people - and the growth that results from it. It feels especially important here for Tommy and Buck - that is after all what going on a date it all about - learning about one another and seeing if you're compatible.
The other fun thing about this green shirt is though that the green plays into the blue green colour theory when it comes to Buck and Eddie and their partners and the end of relationships. This one before its had chance to begin.
For Coffee we have a grey Henley and a blue zip front hoodie with a grey striped undertone to it (I am pretty sure this is actually a hoodie we've seen on Chimney but I can't remember when and I don't think it would be the very same one as pretty sure Lou would not be fitting into Kenneths clothes ever, but Chimney has definelty worn the same style!!). Again Henley's are an Eddie thing, so we once more have the parallel with Eddie being drawn.
The interesting thing here is that the grey blue is the same colour combo Buck wore on their first date attempt - the costume department played a lot with flipping colour in this episode, so to have it done here as well is really fun - the fact there is more grey than blue is also interesting. It's a neutral colour, it is seen as a colour of stability, but is also a colour of uncertainty. It really plays into that theme of uncertainty running through the Buck and Tommy arc. The blue hoodie is actually pretty important because we've had one of Buck and Tommy wearing something dark blue in every scene they've had together - usually the one on the back foot. Tommy in this scene is relatively neutral in terms of position for most of this scene - they are equals - but he is put onto the back foot by Buck asking him to be his date to Maddie and Chim's wedding.
Buck
Where to start with our beloved bi disaster!
I obviously spoke a fair amount about the date night shirt in my promo meta. The navy blue knit bowling shirt with these silver/grey close together pinstripes running down the front playing into the Buck wearing vertical stripes theme we've has running with him for at least the last 2 seasons.
What I said about false starts and this date absolutely played out - in the same way the sperm donation shirt represented a false start on that donation, this shirt also represents a false start on Bucks dating life as a bi man. The white trainers are also carrying on the theme of Bucks Journey towards happiness
What I find most interesting about this outfit though isn't colour theory related. its all about the fit of the clothes. Because these are ill fitting on Buck - not something we see from him very often - in fact I think the only time we see him in anything close to ill fitting to this extent is back in season 1 when he was figuring out who he was and if being a firefighter was the right for him and exploring relationships and what he was trying to find in that arena. The trousers are the most ill fitting of it all, but I'll come to the trousers later on as they are part o a wider Buck costume theme we have going on!
The shirt is a little roomie, but not overly so, it just stands out more because we're so used to his shirts fighting for their life, here this one is baggy and really helps to sell the idea of defeat, but also that h was trying on this new part of himself for size and that it doesn't quite fit. It's the only time this episode we see his clothes not fit him in this way and its a really small but expressive part of costuming that I love to see.
Then we have this blue broadcloth jacket over a white tee and with these plum/brown coloured trousers - they're a bit blink and you'll miss them so its hard to be sure what type of trouser they are, but I think they are essentially smart joggers - jersey material but trousers!
We all know that Buck in white means trouble, I'm putting him outing himself to his sister as the bad thing - along with the fact that the date didn't work out.
I'm really fascinated by the fact that we really seem to be leaning into navy blue and Buck being bi. Navy has always been a colour we've seen a lot of on Buck in general, but there is something about the fact we've seen him (or Tommy) wearing it in every single scene that is about his bisexuality. I'm talking from the kiss scene onwards, not anything before that as Buck wasn't aware of his bisexuality before the kiss. I can't wait to see if it continues!
The green shirt jacket is an interesting one. it obviously helps to play into the buck and Eddie blue green theory, but it does in a smaller way play into the blue green theming we see around Buck and Eddie and their relationships - specifically around issues arising. Both Buck and Eddie wear green when they break up with their significant others and while there is no break up here, there is a break of sorts. This was Buck about to try and tell his Best friend that he was actually out on a date with Tommy and that he's bi
symbol of growth - Buck went in with a goal - to tell Eddie he was on a date with Tommy, but changed tack when he saw Eddie needed to go through something - this is Buck growing as a person - not making something about him.
The other thing about this outfit is that its basically the same as the one Eddie wore at the airfield (even down to the badding of the trousers) - just in reverse - Eddie black trousers, black jacket, green top, and here Buck is black trousers, black top and green jacket - I find this fascinating as a metaphor for where the two of them are on their respective journeys.
Buck is now bi and out (he's told his sister) and has been on a date with a guy (regardless how successful it was - he cannot put it back into the box) - his growth is externalised and therefore expressed through the wearing of a green jacket. We get a lot of storytelling through the various Jackets Buck wears (we've seen him in over 35 at this point!)
While Eddie - who we could say was being taken on a date by Tommy - even if he didn't know it (because who flies someone to Vegas to a sold out fight if its not a date??) wearing a much brighter green that we've seen on him before now (pretty much all of his greens are more army green with a couple of exceptions - much darker greens akin to Bucks jacket in the below picture) - still in the army green wheelhouse, but much bolder. Eddie's queer status is still very much internalised - hence it being underneath the black jacket.
Buck coming out to Eddie from a costume perspective was a glorious parallel that I have already mentioned in the promo meta (I've run out of pictures so you'll have to go watch the scene yourself if you want to see what I mean). Its actually a bit deeper that I appreciated in that promo meta, but that is in part because at the time of writing the meta I wasn't 100% sure it was a coming out scene and I didn't get to see the way it was shot and how that also played into the paralleling.
Costume wise - I already spoke above about Eddies black shirt and how it is reversing him in the episode. But what I didn't mention is that fact that it parallels in colour terms, what he was wearing when Buck informed the firefam that Connor and Kameron were pregnant. Eddie wore a black marl henley - black with flecks of dark grey running through it, and Buck here is wearing a slightly darker blue version of the same top he wore in that same scene. He is standing in the same place at the counter of his kitchen, or sitting very close to the same position and we get similar camera angles. As a whole the parallel is very loud - Buck was happy and proud of something he had done and wanted to share it with his friends - wanted their approval. He was feeling good about himself and confident in his decision.
The biggest thing about the blue - this shade specifically is the way it play into the blue theme we saw last season with Buck - the theme that started in the 5x18 finale at Hen and Karens vow renewal, when he was free of Taylor and moving forward and essentially restarting his search for happiness. We saw it weave a thread through the entirety of season 6, being worn at key moments that played into that theme - after Lev died, at various points in the sperm donation arc, and a key points in the aftermath of his death and rebirth.
The successfully helping create life aspect of this is so interesting. It on a low key level plays into the you don’t find it you make it manifesto that’s been at the heart of bucks arc since s2. the whole year if yes was supposed to be about this very thing - about Buck creating the life he wants for himself - the sperm donation isn’t about the baby it’s about Buck and about him figuring out what he’s missing (which comes back to not only Thomas and Mitchell, but also Lev).
The other thing that ties into this theme is that Eddie isn't really changing but Buck is. Whenever we have a scene at the loft between Buck and Eddie Bucks costume and colour varies, but Eddies stays more or less the same. Bucks colour Palette for these scenes goes - dark grey in the you want to go for the title scene, then we have the grey blue on the balcony and now this much lighter blue. This is highlighting Bucks progression while Eddie who remains in his black shirt and that progression - while Eddie essentially remains steadfast - is key - it’s showing us that while buck is still doing dumb things, he is learning - he is listening to whatever Eddie is telling him - that he’s accepting Eddie’s absolution of his sins more and more - growing and understanding.
It’s building on his long running arc - his fear of being left behind, of not being important enough for people to stick around for - and showing us he’s increasingly understanding that that fear is unfounded - that he’s found his personal- the one who will stay and who is steadfast in that. That’s why we see Eddie unchanging in his black shirt green cargos while buck gets lighter - more unburdened by that fear.
Before you think all is lost on the Eddie front though, we are seeing change - the army green trousers are gone and have been replaced with jeans - perhaps, in the same way Bucks growth into his bisexuality began with his beginning to wear jeans again, Eddies own growth into his own queer identity also begins with jeans - moving him away from Eddie the soldier - fighting for others - being a rock for others and now into a position where he can do his own growing.
In the sperm donation arc, Buck was finally able to donate and was wearing that super pale mint green polo. we don't see the same with the outcome here at this point in the story (although the beige/mint green jacket from the bachelor party is making me👀👀👀 at this moment in time!) - we get this cream open weave linen shirt with black and terracotta and golden brown vertical stripes.
I love that they went with a shirt that has such an open weave - playing into the whole concept of Buck being open and embracing this newly revealed part of him that he's discovered. But what I love most about this shirt is the way it ties back into the Buck learning to accept himself and find his happiness.
Because this shirt is so similar to the one from 6x01 - when he decides he doesn't need a new couch, what he needs is to be ok on his own and with himself.
lets talk Buck and his trousers because the trousers are a whole thing this season and I am truly in love with the long game the wardrobe department have been playing on this one. They know that we have all been out here raising eyebrows at Bucks trousers for the past few seasons as they've gotten shorter and shorter and ill fitting. I know I've made comments in previous costume metas about the fact they must be doing something intentional with them being so short in the leg - that them doing this is giving the appearance of a child who is still in short trousers and isn't fully grown - hasn't moved on to wearing full length trousers yet.
Well it would seem I was right and thats exactly what they were doing, putting him in short trousers to show that he wasn't his fully formed self - that he was growing and learning and figuring things out. because - I've gone back through my spreadsheet and checked his trousers out for all of his scenes and there are only a handful where he has trousers on that are well fitted and the correct length. One of them is at the start of season 6 - at the end of the episode where he moves his armchair instead of getting a new couch - the one time in season 6 we see him most at peace with himself
I remarked in the 7x04 meta that we only saw Buck in his too short trousers in the one scene at the airfield, and from then on, he was was in jeans. Now the jeans are a mimicking thing - Buck hasn't worn stone wash jeans since Eddie appeared on the scene back at the start of season 2, so for him to start wearing them again as soon as he becomes jealous of Eddie and Tommy - and Tommy is wearing jeans - was pretty telling in its own right. It's Buck trying to get Eddies attention (not Tommys - Eddies) because, we do not see Eddie in jeans in 7x04 - but we do see Tommy in them - and in Bucks head he is loosing Eddies attention to a guy wearing stone wash jeans - so if he wears stonewash jeans then maybe he'll get Eddies attention back.
That obviously didn't work out how Buck thought it would, but it did lead to him figuring a new part of himself out.
We can see how his trousers are all now sitting at the correct length, I grabbed this still of the black ones, and you can see in the full length still from the date those are as well (even if they're too big more generally) but the others are all sitting at the correct length as well.
We also see the jeans back for his scene with Tommy - I truly am fascinated by the choice to put him back in stonewash jeans aafter so long as a theming choice for his bisexuality, I really am enjoying this more relaxed looking Buck from a costuming perspective - the journey we've been on with his costumes is great - the increasingly formal style thats just a little too small and tight we've seen over the seasons now slowly relaxing once more into something much more comfortable and well fitted - showing just how far he has truly come.
And thats me out for another week! Sorry it turned into another epic - it would seem `i cant stop myself! Not sure if this has come out longer than last weeks, I think it might've, but I can't be bothered to check! Thank you as always for reading this monster and I hope you enjoyed this deep dive into the costumes for 7x05. I'm off now to hyperfixate on Bucks bathroom door and get myself though this mini hiatus!
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#kym costume meta#costume meta#911 costume meta#911 colour theory#eddie diaz#evan buckley#911 abc#hen wilsom#karen wilson#maddie buckley#chimney han#Tommy Kinard#long post#kym writes things#deep dive
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