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c-nstantine · 10 months

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Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?

Description: Y/N Wayne brings a very special guest to dinner.

Word Count: 0.8k

Warnings: Cursing

It was rare that all of the bat children were summoned for a reason outside of their nightly duties. It was a sign that shenanigans were about to ensue and Bruce normally took this as a sign to drink heavily. Usually, it was because of Y/N but these little gatherings always left strong memories on each sibling.

"Do we need to be here for this?" Jason asked feeling a bit stuffy in his white button-up shirt. He already rolled up the sleeves and undid the first two buttons.

"Yeah, Y/N gets a new boyfriend like every week," Duke said looking through his comic book. He didn't have anything else to do but this was not how he wanted to spend his day off.

"This is different apparently. She said and I quote 'It's serious this time. I would have his kids,'" Tim used air quotations when explaining why all of them are waiting for Y/N to show up for dinner.

"Hell, maybe I will stick around," Jason said intrigued by the idea of his sister wanting to have someone's kids.

"Whoever sticks around the longest doesn't have to patrol for the next three days." Bruce walked into the parlor where all the children were currently relaxing. No one knows how Bruce does the things that he does but Tim's working theory is that there are secret passages throughout the manor.

"Oh, you're on," Cass said appearing behind Bruce. She was on a new mission to make Bruce flinch. She hadn't been successful yet but she could feel herself getting close.

"Everyone please meet in the dining room. Y/N and her guest have arrived," Alfred said with a smile playing on his lips because he knew that shitstorm that was about to occur.

"I wonder who we're meeting now," Tim thought aloud.

"Probably another model or actor," Damian said holding Pennyworth the Cat. He was only excited to threaten someone else for dating his sister. It had been one of the few times deemed acceptable to threaten people outside of patrol.

"You think I'll be able to get an autograph?" Duke asked. Unfortunately, no one was able to answer because they saw who Y/N's guest was.

"Slade? How the hell did you get here?" Dick asked, noticing how Slade Wilson's arm was wrapped around his sister's waist.

"Y/N get away from him. Is he holding you captive?" Bruce asked. If there's one thing that Bruce was going to be, it would be a concerned father, especially when it came to Y/N.

"What? No, he's my boyfriend," Y/N exclaimed so her family wouldn't start pulling out the weapons that were hidden all over the manor.

"I always knew one of you would give me a heart attack, I always thought it would be Damian or Tim," Bruce

"We're dating," Y/N said happily while looking up at Slade. He placed a kiss on her lips and all of her siblings immediately gagged.

"You're dating my nemesis," Dick accused Y/N with a nagging finger.

"Yeah, he was like thirsting after me real bad so I made him promise not to do dumb stuff," Y/N explained while adjusting her long box braids that were in a ponytail.

"It's true. I haven't plotted against you or anyone close to you in almost one hundred and fifty days," Slade said it was like some kind of accomplishment. He was captivated by Y/N, there was something about her that made him do whatever she wanted without hesitation.

"Thank you, I think," Dick's confusion was written all over his face.

"You're welcome," Slade responded before pulling out a chair for Y/N to sit in.

"Bruce, you're not going to say anything?" Tim asked. Bruce was indeed a man of few words but this was odd even for him.

"I mean I could but then I'd be a hypocrite because I did some stuff with Talia last week and I'm trying to be better. Alfred, please get our finest bourbon, make that three bottles," Bruce may not trust Slade but he still wanted to eat the dinner that Alfred painstakingly prepared.

"Y/N, can I speak to you before we start dinner?" DIck asked in his best big brother voice.

"Sure," Y/N followed him to a nearby hallway.

"He tried to kill me," Dick whispered a little loudly.

"But he's hot," Y/N admitted without shame.

"He's old," Dick was willing to try anything to deter Y/N from dating Slade Wilson, Deathstroke. A mercenary who had tried to kill him multiple times.

"He's a silver fox," Y/N argued back.

"Why are you with him?" Dick asked looking for a genuine answer from his sister.

"I like him and he's kinda funny. Plus he's got a real big-" Y/N's eyes widened as her arms widened to show the size of what she was talking about.

"Eww. I don't need to know that," Dick said covering his ears.

"I was going to say, heart," Y/N tried to be convincing.

"No, you weren't," Dick deadpanned.

"Okay, probably not,"

#x black reader #x black!reader #black!reader #black!batsis #black reader #jason todd #dick grayson #spoiled!batsis #spoiled black!batsis #slade wilson #slade wilson x reader #tim drake #damian wayne #bruce wayne is a tired father #slade wilson x black reader #slade wilson x black!reader #c-nstantine

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mollysolo · 9 months

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The Archer

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X fem!super solider!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky spend your last night in Louisiana together.

Warnings: Cuddling, kissing, Bucky and the reader being internally reflective, mentions of the reader and Bucky being involved with HYDRA in the past + their trauma, nightmares and insecurities, the reader tears up once, Bucky startles the reader once

Word Count: 1.7k

a/n: lol i kinda hate this but i hope y’all like it anyway! also, this is sort of based off of the archer by taylor swift. :)

the gif below does not belong to me

Currently, you were sat under a large, beautiful peach tree in the backyard of Sarah’s Louisiana home. You had spent most of your last day here soaking in the sun and occasionally going swimming with Bucky in a nearby lake, knowing that you wouldn’t have that time to relax as much when you, Bucky and Sam got back to New York.

And while you sat under that tree, you thought about Bucky, as you often did. Before him, you had never quite felt like you had belonged anywhere, even amongst the Avengers. But then he appeared in the compounds living room, he looked into your eyes and you felt understood and seen for once in your life.

Like everyone else, you were aware of what Bucky had been through and you had to admit, it made you feel a bit less alone to know that someone else had faced the same horrors that you did when HYDRA had you. You understood each other more than anyone else on the team — even Steve — which only made you fall incredibly fast for him while the two of you got to know each other.

“Doll?” Bucky quietly said as he stood next to where you were sitting under the tree, — so quiet that you probably wouldn’t have heard him if you weren’t a super soldier too — gently bringing you out of your reflective thoughts.

You blinked a few times then looked up at him, a smile instantly rolling out across your lips the second your eyes met his own. You were happy to see him as you had started to wonder not too long ago where he had disappeared to.

He then revealed to you the small box he had been hiding behind his back, making your smile even brighter once you had quickly read the words on the packaging.

When helping Sam clean out the Wilson family boat, he had found a hammock Sam had stored there a few years ago and forgot to actually use. Sam had happily agreed to let Bucky take it when he asked, knowing that the two of you would probably get more use out of it.

Ever since you and Bucky had become a couple, Sam watched as the years of pain and guilt disappeared from your faces and eyes while light and happiness reappeared. His two closest friends were finally at peace and he’d always be there for both of you whenever you needed something.

You then sat up a little more and watched Bucky with admiration in your eyes while he grabbed the tools he had gotten from Sam’s tool box and began to set up the hammock on the tree. And you couldn’t be more excited for him to finish setting it up, only wanting to cuddle with your lover as the sun set and the stars eventually came out.

Neither you nor Bucky felt the need to talk a lot whenever you were around each other, always feeling comfortable enough with each other to just let silence take over for a while. HYDRA had taken away both of your needs to be talkative long ago after all.

Once he had finished setting up the hammock on the tree you had been sitting underneath, you stood next to him as he laid down in it, crossing his feet at the ankle once he got comfortable. And as you stood there, you admired him a bit more. He was such a handsome man inside and out and you still couldn’t believe that he was actually yours.

And while you were admiring him, Bucky slowly reached over and wrapped his arms around your waist, swiftly pulling you into the hammock with him. You let out a gasp that quickly turned into a lovesick grin while you got used to being in the large piece of fabric.

While you got used to the feeling of being in a hammock, you let your body relax on top of Bucky’s and you laid your head down on his chest. And once you had stopped moving, Bucky wrapped his arms around your waist once more and held you close to him.

You placed your right hand on his chest, right over his heart, the other resting next to your bodies. Your eyes trailed up from the collar of his shirt, to his neck, to his jaw where you placed a soft kiss as your eyes finally met his. “I love you, Bucky.” you softly told him, words for only him to hear as you then pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth and you let your eyelids droop a little.

He softly smiled down at you, “I love you more, doll.” he replied with a kiss to one of your temples, causing a fluttery feeling to bloom in your chest.

Bucky began to do some reflecting of his own as you put your head back down on his chest and continued to cuddle with him. Before you had come into his life, he never thought it would be possible for him to ever feel happiness or love ever again.

When Steve had first brought him to the compound and he had thought about his newfound freedom, he easily convinced himself that no one would ever want him after finding out about what he was forced to do. Then he walked into the compounds living room and his eyes met yours for the first time while you sat on the couch, somehow making him feel understood without you saying a single word to him.

Steve had told him about you on the drive there because you and Bucky had been through similar things because of HYDRA. Steve even arranged for your rooms to be right next to each other because he thought it would be good for Bucky to be close to someone who understood every part of what he was dealing with.

And in that moment as he stared into your eyes, he knew that was the birth of something beautiful between you two. Or at least that’s what he hoped.

Once the two of you had truly gotten to know each other in the months following the first time you met, Bucky knew that he had finally found someone who truly understood him and loved them the way he wanted to.

This time it was your turn to pull Bucky out of his thoughts. So you sat up and pressed a soft kiss to Bucky’s lips as you held his face in your right hand, the stubble on the lower half of his face tickling the palm of your hand a little bit.

Immediately after you had brought him back to you, you quietly spoke to him again, “Hey. Where did you go?” you asked him as you looked into his eyes, butterflies appearing in your stomach as you saw that love sick look in his eyes reappear whenever he looked at you.

He closed his eyes and let his head lull to the side a little while he smiled. He then brought your body closer to his once again, “I was just thinking about you.” he answered, making another bright smile appear on your face as a love sick look reappeared in your own eyes.

“You were?” you asked him in response, both of your eyebrows raised, still feeling a bit flustered because of the things he says to you even after all of the years you’ve known him.

He nodded then spoke again, “Yes, I always think about you, doll. There isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t think about you, how much I love you and how grateful I am for you.” he told you, causing tears to start pricking at your eyes and you to press your face into Bucky’s chest.

“I love you so, so much, Bucky. You have no idea.” you said as you slowly lifted your head again just a few moments later, leaving a couple wet spots behind on Bucky’s shirt from where your eyes had been. “Oh, but I do. I see the way you look at me, doll.” he teased, making you chuckle a little.

He then cupped your face in both of his hands and pressed a few passionate kisses to your lips, his way of expressing all the love he has for you. Which you easily understood as he wasn’t been the best with words.

As for the rest of the evening, the two of you remained in the hammock, cuddling and sweetly kissing each other every once in a while. You felt like you could spend the rest of your life here in Bucky’s comforting arms. But you knew that your jobs would never allow that, so you tried to relish in your time spent together for now.

And while you laid there, you both thought about how for years you had trouble believing that anyone would want to stay with you if they found out what you had been forced to do. Then as if the universe had been listening to the way you both had been hurting, you walked right into each others lives.

You both had been the archer and the prey during your lifetimes and had truly felt undeserving of love after what you had been forced to do. But none of that mattered anymore now that you had Bucky and he had you. You would always stay by each others side, never letting anything rip you away from the other person.

And as if Bucky could read you like a book, he spoke and pulled you out of your reflective thoughts again, “I’m here, right here.” he whispered into your ear, comforting you while he gently stroked your back.

But you already knew that Bucky was there for you because he had proved the honesty behind that statement time and time again. Even after your own nightmares and while you healed through your own trauma, he had shown you that he would always be here.

You had done the same for Bucky since the day you two became close. And you would always be grateful for the fact that you had gone to check on him after hearing him have a nightmare during his first night at the compound.

a/n: as always, my inbox is open for requests so feel free to send any you have!

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lemissingmask · 7 months

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[ID: Sketch of Redemption-era Eliot Spencer lying on the floor on his back with his back arched and neck muscles tensed, grimacing as a collar around his neck lights up, giving him an electric shock. End ID]

Day 8: alt. Electrocution

Eliot being tortured with a shock collar as a cheeky little bonus for Day 8

Ficlet below the cut

“Move and we shoot.”

The voice was nearly as cold as the barrel of the gun pressed against Harry’s head.

Eliot froze.

He was several metres away, where he had guided the fight to keep Harry out of it.

And now he was too far away to get to him, to do his thing and make this guy with a gun go away.

“Frank,” Eliot didn’t growl, but his voice was hard and even more threatening than this Frank guy with a gun’s was, “Let ‘im go.”

“You don’t get to make demands here, Spencer,” Frank replied, “Now stay still. You know I won’t hesitate.”

Eliot glared, but he obeyed, staying perfectly motionless with his eyes on Harry.

Of the four other goons who had attacked them, two were unconscious, and one had blood pouring liberally from his nose. The remaining one, apparently following some signal from this Frank guy, moved closer to Eliot, smirking when his adversary did nothing but glare.

"Right ear," Frank said, "Comm unit. Take it out and smash it."

The gun shoved against Harry's head.

"You too, Wilson."

Harry slowly raised his hand, extracted the earbud and held it out. Frank took it, dropped it, and stamped, presumably crushing the comm as thoroughly as the other hitter had crushed Eliot's a short distance away.

"Phone," Frank demanded, and as he accepted Harry's phone, instructed his colleague, "Check him for phone and weapons. Spencer usually has a knife or two stashed somewhere."

And Eliot did.

As Harry watched, still held in place by the gun to his head, the other hitter retrieved a pocket knife, a multitool and too throwing knives from Eliot, as well as his phone. He tossed all this away, shot the phone with a loud crack that made Harry jump and Frank laugh.

By now, one of the others had woken up and the nosebleed of the other guy had been stemmed enough for him to get involved, which he did with evident relish.

"Get the collar on him," Frank ordered, the hand not holding the gun coming to grip Harry's arm, twisting it up behind him, "Watch closely, Wilson. This is the fun bit."

As if Harry had a choice but to watch.

Eliot remained fixed in place, his attention on Frank and Harry, as two of the other men roughly fixed a rigid collar around his neck, yanking his hair out the way and making a point of briefly choking him as they pulled the contraption on. And, it was a contraption. Not just a collar. There was a box on one side of it with a little red light.

Smacking Eliot unnecessarily on the back of the head as they finished, the other hitters stepped back, one pulled out his phone, and then, suddenly, Eliot tensed, teeth gritting, and dropped to his knees, as the collar light turned blue.

Harry instinctively made a move like he might run forward, try to help, but the grip on his arm grew tighter and more painful and the gun knocked against his head.

"Shock collar," Frank said with a smile as the light turned red and Eliot was left breathing heavily on the floor, "Made special just for Spencer."

The light went on again, longer, bringing Eliot all the way to the floor.

"Do exactly as your told, or we'll see how long it takes for that thing to kill him."

With those words, the gun was removed, but almost immediately, there was darkness. A rough, imperfect, darkness. A bag thrown over his head, and two strong forms on either side were half-dragging Harry away.

Out of the building, into a vehicle, the same guys who had been dragging him pressed close on either side.

They didn't drive for very long - not more than an hour, but long enough and with enough turns that it wouldn't be easy for the others to track them from their last location. And they had to be on the way by now. Hardison and Breanna would have used the earbud GPS before they were destroyed, or maybe be tracking their phones.

There would be a Brick and Basil truck en route to where they had just been, and hopefully soon after to wherever they were going now.

When they finally stopped, Harry was manhandled once more, bringing him across a hard floor, into another building, an elevator, and then, at last, into a wooden chair.

The bag was whipped off, and across from him, behind a large, fake mahogany desk, was a man he knew perfectly well.

"Austin," Harry greeted, adopting the false pleasantry he always did with clients, "I'd love to say it was a pleasure, but..."

He nodded to the goons stood either side, taking that motion as a chance to look for Eliot.

Not in this room. A small office with two doors, the desk, some chairs, a mini fridge, and a large conference TV screen.

A bit of a downgrade from this former client's upmarket business address with its tropical fish tank and wet bar.

"Harry Wilson," the man smiled coldly, "You're a hard man to find."

Harry shrugged noncommittally, "What do you want, Austin?"

"I need you to do a job for me. I have a certain legal matter that needs taking care of, and the lawyer I had hired is, quite frankly, not worth the air he breaths. I need you to make an airtight case for me and present it in court," he pushed a pile of documents across the desk, "Everything you need is here. You have three days. This office..."

"No," Harry cut him off. He had worked for this guy before. He had helped him cover his tracks after he destroyed the lives of several of his workers and interns, leading to the suicide of one. This man was one of the long list of regrets burdening Harry's mind. He was two bullet points on the redemption list.

Harry would not work for him again.

"I expected you may say that," Austin stood, walked around the desk towards the screen. The goons rotated Harry's chair, forcing him to turn to watch.

"That's why I have invested in this incentive."

He used a small remote to turn the screen on, and after a second of blackness, a video feed was displayed, showing Eliot with his hands handcuffed to a metal loop fixed to the floor. It looked like a basement, but it was difficult to tell.

Austin pulled out his phone, and a few seconds later, that collar glowed blue again, electrocuting Eliot as he knelt chained to the floor.

And not just a short warning. It didn't stop. Austin wasn't going to stop unless-

"Okay!" Harry yelled, and the collar turned red, leaving Eliot unmoving on the floor, "Okay. I'll do it."

Austin smiled, "Good man. Now, as I was saying, those are the files. There's paper, pens and so on in the desk drawers. Water and food in the fridge. Bathroom through that door. You have three days."

He moved towards the door, the goons following.

"Oh, and if you fail to deliver..."

On the screen, Eliot was subjected to another shock, his body tensing, but nothing more. Harry wasn't even sure he was conscious.

"These gentlemen," Austin nodded to the goons, "Will wait outside. Their colleagues will be with Spencer."

He left, the door was locked, and the screen was left turned on, Eliot still not moving.

Harry spent about an hour searching the office and bathroom for anything that could be useful to escape. Weapons, air vent...anything.

But, predictably, there was nothing. And, even if there had been something, if Harry made an attempt, there were still those other hitters with Eliot, and no way Harry could get there in time to save him.

Harry was just going to have to play along for now. Get to work, start building a case...as a last resort, he would do what Austin asked. He would pull out all the past evil lawyer tricks, hopefully then get Eliot and himself back to safety, and Leverage could deal with the aftermath.

But that was a worst case.

Hardison, Breanna, Parker and Sophie would definitely find them before that. They had three days, and a collective set of skills beyond anything Harry had known or imagined before meeting them.

Three days was more than enough time for Leverage to track people down.

Harry kept this in mind as he spent the first day, working at the case, trying to ignore the itching of his conscience.

There was one moment, towards the end of that day, that robbed Harry of all his forced focus.

He hadn’t expected to see Eliot being treated well, but without cause - Harry had been doing as he had been told - two of the hitters from before had entered the room to amuse themselves.

Harry had no way to contact anyone. He couldn’t get to Austin to convince him to make them stop, refusing to work unless they did. But he didn’t really have the leverage. They were hurting Eliot, but not killing him, and it was within Austin’s power to let them do so.

Harry watched until the hitters disappeared from view and Eliot was left unconscious on the floor, blood pooling beneath his head from the repeated blows they’d delivered to his face.

And, facing the screen so he could see when Eliot woke up, Harry turned on the desk lamp and resumed the arduous task of figuring out how to help the rich and powerful crush those they had wronged.

He had no awareness of falling asleep. At some point, near midnight, he lay his head on his arms, just to try and let his eyes rest…just a bit.

He woke to a hand on his shoulder, a whispered voice in his ear.

“Harry.”

It was Eliot, crouched beside his chair, watching him with evident concern.

The collar was still on, and in places it was shining with blood that seemed to come from Eliot's lip and cheek. The handcuffs were on, but the chain between them broken, links draping on Harry’s shoulder.

"Harry," he repeated as Harry was still registering the situation and deciding whether or not it was a dream, "You alright?"

The hand on his arm was very real. Strong and familiar. And Harry probably couldn't accurately dream the fine details of the collar that he could see now up close.

Harry broke into a smile, "Better now. You're a good person to be kidnapped with."

That drew a small laugh from the hitter, his teeth showing bloody, "Ain't my first rodeo. You good to go?”

Harry nodded and quickly began gathering up all the documents on the case - it could come in handy later.

“What’s that?” Eliot nodded to the folder.

“The reason we’re here,” Harry replied, “And better off in our hands than his.”

“Former client?”

Harry wasn’t sure how Eliot knew, but they didn’t really have time to get into that, so he just nodded and followed Eliot towards the door.

"We have an exit?"

"We're gonna make one."

"What about..."

The collar.

Eliot had stood and moved to the door already, was looking out into the corridor.

"Looks like only some of the guards can set it off," Eliot replied quietly, "Took out the four who grabbed us. Hopefully we don' run into any others, but if we do..."

He paused, looking back at Harry.

"If we do an' I'm incapacitated, you gotta run."

"I can't just leave..."

"Yeah you can," Eliot tapped his arm and moved towards the door, not allowing any further arguments.

Harry followed closely, trusting Eliot to know when to freeze and when to move, and they managed to get into a stairwell without meeting any guards. Their luck ended there, but only for a moment or two. Only for as long as it took for Eliot to disarm and knock out the three guards they met as they moved down ten flights of stairs, and out into a carport.

No one there. Cameras, but no people, and no cars.

"What now?" Harry whispered, "You know where we are?"

"No. We gotta get somewhere crowded. Somewhere with people," Eliot replied, "We can lift a phone an' call the others."

"I don't think we need to," Harry smiled as he saw a familiar set of headlights approaching from the other direction. Eliot turned and broke into his own smile, bloody toothed, but just as relieved as Harry's.

As if summoned by willpower alone, a Brick and Basil truck stopped just outside the building. Harry wouldn’t be surprised if there had been some sort of planned dramatic entrance that culminated in such a welcome and timely appearance.

But they didn’t exit immediately in a dramatic, heroic manner. They were still inside the truck, probably planning their entrance, hadn't seen Harry and Eliot, based on the various screams, gasps, and almost punch that were thrown their way when Eliot opened the back doors.

"And here we busted our asses trying to get here quick as hell," Hardison complained teasingly, grabbing Eliot into a hug as they entered, "Coulda stayed in bed."

"Everyone okay?" Sophie asked, looking them both over, "Breanna? Can we get whatever that is off Eliot?"

"On it..." she immediately began inspecting the collar, while Parker picked the handcuffs, muttering something about more lock picking practice, and keeping hold of Eliot's hand for longer than necessary.

Harry was grateful for the cup of coffee Sophie produced and shoved into his hands, ushering him into the front with her so Hardison could set off driving, getting them the hell out of there.

"Who took you?" she asked.

"Former client," Harry said, drinking the coffee down more quickly than he should, "Wanted me to do a case for him, and used Eliot as leverage."

"Someone we need to take out?" Hardison asked.

Harry considered.

The court case would probably lead to twenty five years in jail if Austin lost...the man was practically already taken out as it was. Provided he lost the case. Harry knew who the prosecution team were, he knew the case, he had more than enough information in the folder alone…

Harry smiled, "I think I will take him out myself."

And he would make sure the team, especially Eliot, were at the trial. After all, they needed The Gloat.

#ailesswhumptober2023 #leverage redemption #eliot spencer #whump #cw electrocution #cw torture #Day 8: alt. Electrocution

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greghatecrimes · 1 month

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You said you used to be a barista? Any headcanons on how our darlings at PPTH take their hot cocoa?<3

I did used to be a barista indeed!! <3 Oh this is such a good question, I'm much more of a hot cocoa than a coffee person myself so I absolutely love it.

These are based more on vibes than anything else:

House: With a near obscene amount of mini marshmallows sprinkled in, and a very healthy spiral of whipped cream on top of that. Like, tall enough that it looks like it might tip over. Half the time he probably makes it that big just to be obnoxious/see the ducklings' reactions lol

Wilson: Either normal hot chocolate (homemade though, not the powder/instant mix kind. Only ever homemade! Probably chides House whenever he sees him going for the hot cocoa powder and then stops him, takes over, and makes a big batch of luxurious homemade hot chocolate. (little does he know that was house's master plan all along.)), or he goes like... super indulgent and enjoys something like salted caramel hot cocoa every once in a while. If such a recipe exists.

Cuddy: Let's be real, it most likely wouldn't be a hot chocolate, it would be a mocha. That caffeine fuels her through her day. Unless she's at home with Rachel for a snow day or something. Then it's the good ol' swiss miss they keep a box of in the pantry. Rachel likes to put rainbow sprinkles on top with her mini marshmallows, and somehow there's always a little handful of them that end up in Cuddy's mug, too.

Cameron: Peppermint hot chocolate, one thousand percent! I wrote a post about coffee orders a while ago and I mentioned that Cameron totally seems like a peppermint mocha girl to me. The same carries over for hot chocolate, too. She'd be happy drinking peppermint hot chocolate any time of year, no matter the weather! (And I love her for it). I think it would be a total comfort drink for her. Very grounding. <3

Chase: Similar to the coffee orders, I think Cameron introduces him to peppermint hot chocolate, and he ends up really enjoying it. I think he'd also enjoy just plain hot chocolate with a small layer of whipped cream on top. (I'm picturing that it's the kind where the whip is about even with the rim of the glass, so that when you drink the first couple sips, you usually end up getting a whipped cream mustache). ALSO? Bailey's hot chocolate (hot cocoa recipe spiked w/Bailey's Irish Cream liqueur). Great nightcap on a cold winter night.

Foreman: Like I said, a lot of these are based on vibes alone. My man is really giving me "Hot cocoa with Nutella stirred in" vibes rn. Or something else that'll give it a nice, rich hazelnut flavor alongside the chocolate. Anything that adds more depth to the flavor instead of stacking on the sweetness. I can see him liking a dark chocolate hot cocoa with some dark cherry extract added in, too!

Kutner: Hot chocolate infused with orange extract, from a recipe specially made so that it tastes like you're drinking the equivalent of one of those chocolate oranges. Everyone thinks he's nuts until he convinces them to try it, and then they're all absolutely hooked.

Thirteen: I have two thoughts in my mind. One: I think she'd like both white hot chocolate and milk chocolate hot cocoa. Two: She strikes me as the type of person who would get a craving for hot chocolate in the summer, but absolutely NOT want the sensory feel of a hot drink when it's hot out. So she takes hot chocolate powder and mini marshmallows and mixes them into a glass of cold milk. House calls her out on it and is like "you're just drinking glorified chocolate milk at this point." Kutner immediately jumps to her defense and says "it's not chocolate milk, it's cold chocolate." (Then he makes himself a glass of "cold chocolate" and is like "This is actually pretty good!" and then orders an iced mocha with no espresso in it every day for the next week)

Taub: Dark chocolate hot cocoa. Something that's not too, too sweet, but still has a good cocoa flavor. Maybe this part is because I'm POTS-y/probable EDS and need way more salt than average (and thus fucking LOVE salt), but I feel like he'd enjoy sprinkling little sea salt crystals on top. Then it tastes like one of those fancy dark chocolate candy bars you can get at trader joe's.

Bonus Amber, just like in the coffee questions: Homemade chocolate infused with pure raspberry extract. And just a little bit of whipped cream on top (probably also homemade). (I adore her)

This was so much fun to think about! Thank you for the ask, anon! <3

#PPTH starbucks run #ask #anon #greg house #james wilson #lisa cuddy #eric foreman #robert chase #allison cameron #lawrence kutner #remy thirteen hadley #chris taub #amber volakis

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wahoo-venus · 1 month

Note

Short Hilson fic where House plays the piano, mayhaps? 😍

sure thing! it takes a bit to get to the piano part, sorry 'bout that, haha! I hope you enjoy<3

lmk if you have any more requests!

———

1,072 words

Wilson has trouble sleeping, and House knows how to help him

———

Fifth night in a row. God dammit.

Wilson stared at the ceiling with a frown. He was crashing at House's place, hoping that a change of air would help him sleep. It didn't.

For some unknown reason, the last four nights he wasn't able to sleep. This night appeared to be the same.

It was becoming a problem. He tried everything that helped in the past: Jogging until feeling extremely tired, taking a long steamy bath, reading the most boring documents he could find, taking melanin... Nothing. Zero. Nada.

He got up, irritated, and went to the kitchen and opened the cabinet looking for a glass, grabbing the tallest one he could find. He closed the pannel a little aggressively, and then opened the fridge with the same force. After analyzing the liquids avaliable, he opted for some orange juice and, again, closed the door with more aggression than needed. He poured the drink on his glass until it was about to spill, and drank it in one go, but before he could put the glass down he heard a familiar voice.

"Don't you dare break my glass. I think you already broke all other furniture you touched tonight" House entered the kitchen and went past him, eyeing the fridge as to see if there was any damage.

Wilson could only sigh. "Sorry. Did I wake you?" He put the glass down, very carefully now that he was aware of the force he put into his actions before. He glanced at House half looking for approval and half looking for forgiveness.

"No, my sixth sense warned me that if I didn't go to the kitchen right this instant, I would have one less glass in my arsenal." He said this while looking for box of cookies in pantry, side-eying him before actually finding the box. Wilson chuckled at the comment.

"Thank God for the supernatural" He said with a tinge of playfulness in his tone, before switching to a more exasperated one. "I'm just frustrated. I–"

"Still can't sleep" House said with his mouth filled with chocolate chip cookies, raising an eyebrow at him. His attention was now fully on his friend, when he wasn't taking another bite of his sweet snack.

"I've tried everything!" He shook his hands in the air, voice raising an octave. "I don't know what else to do! I feel like I'm going insane!" He turned to look at his friend, who was observing his outburst, almost puzzled. "I going to go crazy if I don't sleep tonight" this last part was almost a plea, as if House could do anything about it. His look changed from pensive to a little annoyed.

"And it's going to be my problem if you don't" Wilson hoped it meant what he thought it did. That House had a solution. That the solution was very, very simple, and that House knew it. If he was lucky, House would even share it.

Wilson took a few wary steps, as if aproaching a wild animal that he didn't want escaping. He didn't dare make a sound, just waited until House said something, hoping it would be useful. He stared, staying very still.

Then House rolled his eyes. "You should go back to the couch. My couch, by the way. You should be thankful i haven't invited some hooker and let her sleep there" He grabbed his cane and marched past Wilson, leaving the cookies behind.

He sighed. Of course he wouldn't help him. He had to pay some bigger price, like 100 Clinic Hours, or Unlimited Chinese Food For a Year. He rubbed his face with his hands and let out another sigh, thinking what he was willing to sacrifice for some sleep. Squeezing his eyes shut, he came up with a few ideas. But his train of thought was interrupted by something that came from the living room.

He opened his eyes and looked up. That... was House playing the piano? Was he playing for him?

He almost didn't dare to move. Then he thought about it, and if he didn't move House would probably shout at him and stop playing. So he slowly went to the living room, stopping as soon as House was in his range of view.

He really was playing. Wilson didn't know what, exactly, he never was one for classical music. But it was beautiful. It was calm yet not slow. And the way House was playing... He feels that if he heard another man play it, it wouldn't be as good.

Swallowing a bit, he took courage to lay on the couch. He tried to make as little sound as possible, and layed in a comfortable position where he could look at the piano.

He couldn't look at House's face, but he supposed it was better. That way he couldn't make fun at him later for making shocked expression with a touch of adoration. Instead, he was looking at his hands.

They looked so rough. They were lanky and long, with calluses from playing the guitar and messing with chemicals every once in a while. And they played marvelously. They went from one side of the piano to the other, swaying and not missing a single note.

The melody was a bit cheery, and the pace wasn't exactly fast, but was not at all slow. He smiled, and chuckled a bit. House took notice, because he turned his head a bit and gave a side-eye. Luckily Wilson was still looking at his hands.

House stopped playing. A beat. Dammit, Wilson had ruined it. He closed his eyes shut. Dammit. But before he could spiral, House started again.

This time it was a very calm melody. Sweet. Tender. Slow, but not boring. Again, it was beautiful. And House was playing it. For him.

He took a deep breath, and let it out, tension leaving his body. He didn't care if he had to pay a thousand dollars in cash tomorrow, it was worth it. He loved this. It was amazing, and almost didn't want to fall asleep just to keep hearing his friend play.

But his worries slowly flew away, leaving him with nothing but a tired body and an exhausted mind. He let the notes enter his body and invade his mind with the same words he used earlier: Calm. Sweet. Tender. Slow. Beautiful. House.

He fell asleep with a smile plastered on his face.

#hilson #house md #house x wilson #james wilson #gregory house #hatecrimes md #house md fanfiction #thanks for the request!!! it was really fun to write!#at first it started with house + wilson binging General Hospital but i couldn't fit the piano stuff #might use that some other time thooo #Bunny requests #reqs open #fic request

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sciderman · 3 months

Note

Reading New Mutants #98 is such a wild experience because Wade still acts as the snarky and kinda sadistic shit talking queen of mercs, but he's also like...super menacing and competent too? Especialy next to today where people fuck him up like a noob, seeing him taking out a group of mutants with gadgets and tricks, body Nathan and having to be taken out by a suprise element was a true shock...and i kinda love it? Like, Wade shows up and he's actually a threat, but a threat that doesn't even take you seriously, he insults you but is also oddly polite to his main target. What is your take on the original version of Wade?

interesting question! really really reaaaally interesting question! new mutants #98 is an issue i've read like, a million times because newer comics always always always recontextualise it - so you find out, wait - domino was vanessa in disguise, so actually, she probably had an insight on how to take down wade better than anyone else - wait, nathan knew wade as someone who saves his life so was probably pulling his punches actually - wait - the guy who sent wade to kill nate was actually nathan's SON?? like there's five million plot twists that come after new mutants #98 that get me rereading it over and over.

i do love that wade's introduced as someone who is equipped and prepared – he definitely was more competent in the earlier comics, he was perpetually a threat, and always had just the contrived weapon in his arsenal needed to take out certain mutants with certain powers.

they kind of gradually started stripping him of all that - i think when he started making the transition from minor villain to empathetic anti-hero, they started stripping him of his teleporter belt, his image inducer, his swiss-army-knife arsenal that made every fight too convenient for him. and now - now he's just a guy with two swords and maximum effort.

i'm not saying it's bad – buuuut... i love the mission impossible movies. i love impossible gadgets. it's so much more fun to see than just, you know, guys hitting and slashing at each other. give me stupid weird gadget that wade has tucked away in some pouch belt of plot convenience specifically to take down this specific guy with weird specific powers. give me a competent wade who did all the research before going into the fight. not a wade wilson who kind of coasts by with dumb luck and gumption.

but - you know, on the topic of wade being hyper-competent in new mutants #98 it's - kind of not something i believe, either. sure, he's a menace to those kids but - remember, he does still get his ass handed to him in a humiliating kind of a way. what a start to his career. and these guys aren't shaken at all. no "oh my god. this guy is someone we should worry about. we should worry about letting him free." no. wade is shipped back to his employer in a box. there's no worry that he might come back angrier. deadpool's kind of a joke.

nathan summers does often maintain a level-head in general - buuut, i just don't think there was any moment in that fight that nathan really thought he was going to lose against wade. there was no "oh no, all hope is lost" moment. wade was just quick with his punches, sure, but i don't think the cards were actually in his favour. nathan wasn't incapacitated, and would have easily taken wade down.

he kind of just didn't want to, i don't think.

i think maybe he wanted to see what wade could do. and i think if nate really thought wade was a threat to the kids, nathan would have protected them more fiercely. there's no reason at all why nathan couldn't have so, so easily just - yeeted wade out of the building. wade really, really wouldn't have stood a chance if nathan really saw him as a threat to him or (especially) to the kids. nate's training up these kids. he probably saw wade as just - adequate practice for them, but no real threat. wade is completely manageable for him.

i think later on wade gets savvy to the fact that nathan usually pulls the punches with him.

nathan could so, so easily just...

if he didn't want to deal with deadpool.

i think vanessa probably knew that too. and i think that's why she stepped in when she did - because she probably thought if wade pushed too far and trod on one of nathan's nerves, it would be the end for wade. so she neutralised him.

i write a bit about it in i love you, wade wilson - my beloved fic about deadpool's early days.

#sci speaks #sci talks comics

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dyns33 · 2 years

Text

Flufftober 25 - Deadpool

Wade Wilson x reader

"This must be your favorite day."

"Because you're a freak."

"I think he understood. Unless he's stupid."

"Haha. You guys are sooooo funny. Halloween, my favourite day, because I wear a mask all the time, and under the mask I look like a moldy avocado. Nobody never said that to me. I think someone did, to Batman, so I'll take that as a compliment."

"You're not as handsome as Batman. With and without the mask."

"Thank you, Yellow, you're adorable."

"More than you, for sure."

Wade didn't know why he kept chatting with the boxes. They were never nice to him and they didn't deserve his attention.

Maybe it was because no one else wanted to talk to him. Despite his best efforts, people still ended up finding him weird, crazy, and dangerous. This was incomprehensible to Wade, who thought he was the best friend in the world.

Loyal, funny, ready to kill if asked, for money or a hug.

According to Spidey, Red, and Moon-Moon, the only heroes who agreed to spend some time with him, he didn't do it well. He was too intense and he had to stop threatening people, whether it was to protect the people he loved, or to ask the people he loved to love him back.

And all of that was when he had his mask on.

No normal person ever gave him a chance seeing his face, running off before they tried to get to know him.

It was a bit hurtful, but Wade could understand. He had already vomited and passed out after seeing himself in a mirror. At the same time.

So even if they said that to be mean, the boxes weren't wrong. His scorched pizza face could only come out on Halloween, because people thought it was a disguise then, and everyone praised him, saying he was really awful, which was so cool. Just for that day.

The other days it was just awful.

"We could enter a contest. We would win a prize."

"At the end, they will understand that it is not a costume and they will throw tomatoes at you while laughing, like Quasimodo."

"Even Quasimodo is more handsome."

"He's not with the girl at the end."

"And Wade is single, I don't see where the problem is."

"I want tacos !" declared Wade, who was tired of listening to them, even though he knew they were going to follow him wherever he went. They were silent only when he shot himself in the head, and never for very long.

It was nice to go out without the mask for once. He decided to put on a cap anyway, to avoid attracting too much attention. If someone asked him, he was a sexy zombie, and a famous one, but incognito, so he didn't accept photos, thank you.

On his way, he passed an ice cream shop, and eating ice cream before the tacos seemed like a good idea. It all ended up in the stomach at the end, the order didn't really matter.

It was a little cold, so there weren't many people in the shop. Some stared at him, both frightened and fascinated, smiling shyly at him when he greeted them.

It was that stupid gesture, to wave his hand to embarrass strangers, that changed his life. Well, maybe not his life, but at least his day.

No, yes, his whole life.

Wade's hand passed very close to the girl who was patiently waiting her turn behind him, touching her hair, and they both jumped at the same time.

The poor innocent backed off, while he immediately apologized, explaining that he hadn't done it on purpose, and that she had no reason to be afraid or disgusted, he wasn't sick or contagious, just ugly.

"Well, I guess there's reason to be disgusted, I have a special face."

"Oh. No, sorry, I was surprised, I was thinking about the ice cream I was going to choose, I thought something was falling on me, like an insect."

"If I was an insect, I would be a dung beetle. Often screwed up, but very useful for the whole world."

The boxes told him he was ridiculous, but that made the young girl laugh. They then told him that she was making fun of him, while she added that he was funny, with a charming smile.

"My name is Y/N." she said, holding out her hand, as if she wanted him to shake it. He couldn't do that, she was way too pretty for him to touch.

"Wade Winston Wilson. Triple W. My dad was an alcoholic, he wanted to call me Georges, but eventually he gave the dog that name, and he loved him more than me."

"I hope that's not true."

"The name story isn't. Shall I buy you ice cream? To make up for almost slapping you. Really sorry, I'll never do that. I'll cut my hand off rather than hit a woman. I've fought women before, but they were bad guys, I mean bad girls, and I think it's pretty feminist of me not to discriminate, but I won't hit a helpless woman who didn't do anything wrong. I'm actually hired to hunt down guys who do this, and sometimes I even do it for free."

This made Y/N laugh again, and Wade considered that she hadn't understood that he was serious.

Not to scare her away, he didn't insist. She had accepted that he pay for her ice cream, if in exchange he agreed to stay a little with her to discuss.

"I thought you wanted tacos." White reminded him.

"But now he wants Y/N."

"She's too good for him. Just like Esmeralda with Quasimodo."

"She's much prettier than Esmeralda."

"What ?" Y/N asked looking at him in surprise.

"Nothing, I... I'm talking to myself, I was thinking of something else. So, not dressed up for Halloween yet ?"

"No, not yet. I'm not sure I'm going out tonight, the streets aren't safe, and I have a date."

Wade did his best to hide his disappointment, so very badly. This made the young woman laugh again.

"I mean, I have a date with my sofa, my television, a blanket and some chocolate."

"I think we have a date with the same person tonight. It's terrible, they're cheating on us, we should get revenge by going out together !"

"Haha, yes, why not."

He had said that as a joke, really. It was one of the only non-serious things he had said since the moment he saw her sweet face and his heart almost stopped beating at so much beauty, and now Y/N had just accepted a go on a date with him.

"No, she's joking too."

"Yes she didn't understand that we were really ugly."

"I'm really ugly." repeated Wade, pointing his fork at his face. "It's not a mask, I look like it all year round. And I'm really hired to punch bad guys, or worse."

"I know. You're Deadpool. You sometimes work with Spiderman and other heroes, I've seen you on the news."

"... And it's okay ?"

"Yes." simply replied the angel who was eating her ice cream in front of him.

White yelled at him that they were probably dead again and dreaming while he was regenerating. Yellow whispered to him that it was a cruel joke, or that she was a Hydra spy who wanted to capture him to study his cells. Wade watched the rainbows and butterflies floating in the air, hearts in his eyes.

Obviously, Y/N didn't see the little hearts, taking his silence for a rejection.

"If I was too quick, I'm sorry, I... You're nice, and funny, and I had a great time with you. But if you're not interested, or you already have someone, or...'

"No ! I'm having a great time too. It's much better than tacos ! I wanted to eat tacos before stopping here."

"Really ? We... We could go have some together? Then I don't know. We'll see. Do you have a number ?"

Convinced that she wouldn't call him, he gave her his personal number. The one he had given to his pals of the Team Red of the Moon, and that was it, because all the other people he knew didn't deserve to know this number, with its brilliant voicemail where he imitated Ryan Reynolds, only knowing his professional phone, where he was making farts noises.

Except that Y/N immediately sent him a message, while they were still together.

"Here. That way we can schedule another date."

"Another date ?"

"Yeah... I mean, unless we don't consider today to be a date. Sorry, we'll schedule a first date."

"I don't know if White and Yellow are right, but I don't care."

"What ?"

"Nothing. Shall we go and eat tacos ?"

Leaving way too much money for the waitress, Wade hopped happily alongside Y/N who was still smiling like he didn't look like an idiot with a ravaged face, and Wade thought to himself that Halloween was maybe actually his favourite day. And that eating ice cream before the meal was a great idea !

#deadpool #deadpool imagine #deadpool x reader #wade wilson #wade wilson x reader #wade wilson imagine #flufftober 2022

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feederandfeedee · 2 years

Text

GET TO KNOW US ✨ & FAQ

🧔🏽‍♂️Feeder: R, 28yo, California native and Feeder.

👩🏽 Feedee: Wilson, 26yo, Texas native and Feedee.

Met online, here on Tumblr in 2014 and been in a fat and happy feederistic relationship ever since 💗

(click on the underlined title to visit each website)

✨ Onlyfans: Here you can find our largest selection of images, videos and full length clips! New posts every single day! Feeding, eating, funnel, collabs, sex, masturbation, nudity etc & most of all lots of feedism content!

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✨ SextPanther: Is it fat chat you seek? Click here to get access to instant messaging with Wilson 24/7 (almost). Fat chat, sexting, video chat, picture exchange, video exchange and even female feeder services available! *Messages we receive through social media don’t always get responses*

✨ Custom Requests: Do you have any fantasies you’d like me to make come to life? Want to see me do something specific or special that you may not find in my other videos? Place a custom request for a video here! Turn around is about a week and I offer competitive prices!

✨ Where else can you find me? Reddit has some nsfw photos sprinkled in here and there but I don’t post as often! I post on Instagram pretty frequently and you can always find me making stories about my day-to-day activities and food! Twitter has some really juicy content and previews to most of my clips! I’m almost always on Feabie interacting with the community!

———————————✨ F A Q ✨ ——————————

* I get a lot of the same repeat questions in my ask box and inbox so I’ve compiled a list of those questions and answered them here! Other questions and answers submitted by followers can be accessed by locking #askfeed at the bottom of this post*

What is your starting weight? 150lbs

When did you find out you were into Feedism? Ive always known since I was a kid that my attitude towards “getting fat” and “being fat” were different than the attitudes of people around me.

Current weight? My current weight is visible in weigh in and measurement clips available on all my paid sites!

Do you have a goal weight? Nope! I try not to focus on a number or a destination and enjoy the ride! Feedism for me is about eating, enjoying myself and freedom- not about goals and timelines!

Any bbw/ssbbw idols? I find beauty in lots of individuals online and in person! I see inspiration in everyone but I try not to compare myself to others! So yes and no but I do like to keep a few things to myself!

Are you a feeder or mutual gainer? Short answer: No. long answer: Being a feeder or a mutual gainer is definitely not something I identify with in my personal life. Neither are words that I would use to describe myself. That being said, over the years I’ve been approached by a few individuals requesting female feeder content and encouragement. And I love doing it! The best thing about being a feedee and taking on the role of feeder is the fact that I can tell you exactly what you need to hear to feel turned on and encouraged. That’s because I know exactly what it is that feedee’s love to hear! I get a lot of happiness from encouraging men to eat and become fatter and have successfully porked up a few chubsters. But that happiness comes from the joy I give my feedees by making them feel pleasured. I love doing it and I treat encouraging men to grow as a little hobby of mine. At the end of the day and after all those sessions and conversations, I’m happy to put the phone down and take my rightful place in my personal relationship as feedee.

Didn’t find an answer to your question? Send me an ask, anonymous or not, and I’ll get to it as quickly as I can! Or search through previously asked questions by clicking on the #askfeed at the bottom of this post- your question may have been asked recently! And if I don’t get to your question, don’t be offended! I get a lot of questions but I try to answer them all eventually!

#askfeed

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shmaptainwrites · 1 month

Note

What if the reader is House childhood bestfriend? They kind of split up because she wanted to be a lawyer and moved out of town to achived it. Now she is hired at Princeton Plainsdoro. Wilson meet her for the first time in the elevator and help her to find her new office (which is next to his). They often meet and they both begin to like eachother. Wilson take the reader to the cafeteria for lunch and they meet House. He is angry because no one has told him that the reader was here (Wilson as well) and the reader hadn't spoke to him since the split up. Wilson wants to stay with her but House can't stand her anymore so Wilson has to choose between them.

heyy! again using this as a reward for doing my homework LOL

Okay this is really interesting because being childhood friends with House adds another dynamic. For this to work I assume you'd also have a parent in the military that worked pretty closely with House's dad and so you were like a constant friend for each other despite needing to move around all over the world

So after the one constant in House's life is gone, and we know he doesn't like change too much, he becomes bitter towards you and even though you would write to him or try to call him to keep in touch he cut you off

Then we fast forward to the present where you begin working in the legal department for a hospital and you meet this very sweet and cute doctor who offers to show you around after you look a little lost and need some help carrying your boxes to your office. You immediately hit it off and are more than happy to hear his office is next to yours which ends up translating into lots of visits from him until he eventually asks you out on a date which you accept

Surprisingly, being so zoned in on your work and spending lots of time with Wilson and being mostly in your own office you don't even know House is also working there let alone is best friends with your new boyfriend so when you finally all cross paths in the cafeteria it's a big moment of realization for all three of you, making the connections between the relationships

House is frustrated even though you all literally didn't know of the connections between each other and he makes a bit of a scene, proclaiming to Wilson that he shouldn't date you and is more than happy to use embarassing childhood and teenage aneccdotes to get what he wants

You stand up and leave because you refuse to be battered by him when all you did was leave to pursue your dreams. Wilson is upset and tells House he's being unresonable, but I think as we've seen before when Wilson is caught between two people he forces them to deal with whatever issues they have because it would be unfair to both of them and himself for him to pick a side, so I think he'd be really passive and maybe try and enlist some help to get you and House to talk about your problems

In the end I think with time House probably comes to tolerate you again maybe even despite not wanting to at first, but it definitely creates an interetsing dynamic between the three of you

send me your RSL character x reader thoughts

→ accepting asks for james wilson, cruise, peter müller

→ i've seen up to 5x6 of house — NO SPOILERS PLEASE

#mimi answers #mimi's wilson thoughts #james wilson #james wilson x reader #james wilson x you #greg house

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rhinozilla · 1 year

Text

Detroit: Become Family 2022 - Prompt 6: Found

@dbh-found-family

Just when Connor thought he was finally fully understanding the human preoccupation with their appearance and fashion and how they presented themselves…Hank found a way to confuse him all over again.

Hank had an eclectic wardrobe, as far as Connor could determine, but so did many other humans and in further extremes. He had been observing over the months since his return to the DPD how his fellow officers and colleagues had also curated their own styles and preferences. Even down to the way they wore their uniforms and decorated their work stations. He was even developing a fairly accurate radar for what Officer Chen would like versus what Officer Wilson would like, et cetera.

He was even seeing his fellow deviant androids who worked at the station exploring what their preferences, likes, and dislikes were. He himself had been wary of venturing too far from his grey, black, and dark blue color palettes just yet. And Hank was not making that easy for him.

“This looks about your size. Try it on,” Hank suggested, holding up a wad of fabric.

Connor stood in the doorway of the station’s large supply closet, arms folded behind his back and not participating. “No, thank you.”

The afternoon had been slow, and Hank had gotten the idea that they should sort through the box of Lost and Found items that was overflowing on the floor of the supply closet. Connor knew this box was occasionally sorted through. Whatever wasn’t claimed by their owners was offered up to any officers who might want any of it. What was left behind was either thrown away or donated.

“C’maaaan,” Hank drawled, fluffing out what looked like a coat…in an alarming shade of pea green and with thick tassels of fringe hanging from each wrist, all the way up the arms, and across the shoulders.

“I’m really not interested in wearing that,” Connor pressed. “Where did that even come from?”

“Eh, I think I remember Ben arresting a sex worker who beat a guy with her shoe while wearing this.”

Connor looked at him in disturbance, and Hank laughed.

“Hey, I was on HER side on that one. She just spent a few hours here and then got released. Guess she forgot her coat.”

“If you think it’s hers, why not contact her so she can get it back?”

“Because that’s not my job,” Hank snorted, tossing the coat aside and rummaging more deeply into the box. “Anyway that was months ago, if she hasn’t missed it by now, she’s not gonna.” He straightened up. “Ooh, what about this?”

He held up a fanny pack, covered in block patterns in bright primary colors. Connor frowned as Hank unzipped all the compartments to make sure there was nothing in them.

“Hank, you are fairly compensated for your job here. I don’t think it’s necessary for you to…shop…through the lost and found items left behind by people who pass through the station,” Connor pointed out.

Hank scoffed and glanced back at him, holding up the fanny pack and squinting as if to imagine Connor wearing it. Connor took a precautionary step back.

“I’m not ‘shopping,’ I’m scavenging.”

“And that’s…better?”

Hank tossed the fanny pack into the donation pile and took a break, straightening up and stretching his back. “Look, you go into a clothing store or whatever, you generally know what you’re going to find. But you never know what you’re going to find in a lost and found box like this. Or a flea market or a consignment shop or garage sales. That’s where you find all the crazy, unique stuff.”

“One man’s trash is another’s treasurer?”

“Ah, I wouldn’t call any of this trash—” Hank stopped as his eyes caught on something sticking out of the box.

He bent over, snatched up the object, and held it up. It was a massive set of headphones, with comically large ear coverings that were each shaped like half of an avocado. The connecting wire between the headphones had been yanked out of one the ear coverings, and the rest of it was hopelessly tangled. It looked like it might have been stepped on at one point.

“Maybe this is,” Hank conceded. “Are these functional?”

He held them out, and Connor reluctantly took them in both hands. He scanned the wiring and the speakers inside the headset.

“Not currently. The speakers are intact, and it would only require the replacement of these connecting wires. Then they would be good as new…perhaps unfortunately,” he assessed, turning them over in his hands with distaste.

“All right…Maybe we can salvage those. That can be somebody else’s treasure at Goodwill or something,” Hank concluded, then, “Oh what the Hell…”

He pushed aside a few other miscellaneous items to pull out a folded up wad of denim. He frowned, stood again, and held out the pair of jeans in confusion.

“Who…Who lost an entire pair of pants here?” he asked.

Connor opened his mouth, paused, then closed it. He figured he wasn’t meant to answer such a question.

“Who did we bring in that left without their pants?” Hank asked again to no one in particular.

Connor pursed his lips, tilted his head, and studied the clothing. The jeans were from a well known brand, in good condition, and styled in the popular trend of heavy fraying and tears along the bottom hem.

“God, I can’t wait for this trend to die,” Hank muttered as he looked them over as well. “People walkin’ around looking like they just got attacked by a weed whacker.”

As if he was in a position to judge someone else’s fashion choices.

Connor snickered, and Hank looked over at him.

“What?”

Connor gestured vaguely to the station around them. “Whoever they were, if they were someone brought in under our custody after an arrest…perhaps they left in a hurry because they were…a liar, liar, pants on fire?”

Hank stared at him.

Connor stared back at Hank.

Hank continued to stare.

Connor stared unblinking.

Then the jeans were smacking him in the face as Hank threw them at him.

“God, you gotta work on your jokes. Holy Hell, that was bad.”

Connor snickered again, folding up the jeans and setting them on the donation pile.

“Seriously, Hank, are you hoping to find something for your own personal use in this box?”

“I dunno, but it never hurts to—YES!”

Hank stood up, producing an extra large white t-shirt with big black lettering on it, along with an arrow below the text, pointing to the right. He turned it around to show Connor, looking strangely gleeful as he did so. Connor read the shirt and deflated in disappointment.

I’M WITH STUPID

“Holy shit, I didn’t think they even still made these.” Hank laughed.

Cocking his head, Connor lifted a hand. “I would be interested in that for myself.”

Hank looked at him sharply, and Connor offered a shit-eating grin. Hank narrowed his eyes, then wadded up the shirt and threw it at him.

“You little shit…Get in here and help me with the rest of this. If you’re not going to help, then go lurk somewhere else.”

Connor set the shirt aside and sighed dramatically, joining Hank by stepping up to the box.

“Fine. Don’t worry, Hank. I’ll only wear that shirt when I’m working on a case with Detective Reed.”

Everyone in the bullpen abruptly looked up at the explosion of Hank’s laughter as it violently burst out of the supply closet.

#detroit: Become family event #dbh connor #hank anderson

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abeinginsand · 9 months

Text

Darryl teaching the rest of the dads square dancing after Henry suggested they all do a team building 'share your hobbies' exercise. (Takes place over a couple days, theres a general steps day then more specific session after that) ---- Ron learns the steps easiest out of everyone which Darryl is pretty darn impressed about. He even asks if Ron took dancing lessons before. The businessman smiles, eyes crinkling in that fond sorta way where its obvious to friends that the next words out of his mouth will start with 'Samantha, Sammy, or my wife.' It wasn't square dancing, but instead a tango class they signed up for accidentally. Really helped with rhythm and, specific to dancing with Darryl, he and Samantha were both similar heights after all.

Henry, for some reason, immediately slips his birkenstocks off to get ready. When questioned, he's quick to explain that he and Mercedes dance every night while they cook. They always make a game of kicking their shoes off. Adding a few other silly rules each time. Glenn snickers in the background, saying a "is that why the food taste's like that? Too busy dancing to watch the food?". The rock enthusiast tosses a shoe at him while saying a "Hey! you said you were in love with my cooking last week, Glenn." Of course the toss is light and not actually aimed at anyone. But whether that is intentional or not, Darryl is quick to get everyone back on task. He cleaned out a whole storage room in the HQ for this. It's fun to laugh a little at each other as they bump elbows or toes. Henry compliments his clothes since they are standing so close and maybe the stay-at-home dad's cheeks aren't just red from the exercise. Jodie is next and its fine. They don't talk much, not out of hate but instead of this always lingering awkwardness between them. Darryl remembers Jodie saying one time that he and Darryl had been pretty close...if only Darryl remembered it. Darryl wasn't sure what to say, still isn't. Would Jodie's friend Darryl have offered him a hug or a solemn hand on the shoulder? Maybe they'd talk about it later. The steps are learned and their share a hand shake where at the last second before both guys pull away-- Jodie says that he was glad he spent all night looking up dancing clips in prep for this with a chuckle. Well, he meant to only watch two but 'you know how it is.' And maybe, when hearing Jodie admit that and seeing his relaxed posture for once...Darryl thinks maybe it isn't so strange they were close before after all. Instead of heading home after his part in the lessons, Jodie ends up staying. Dancing along with Ron and Henry while Darryl goes over to Glenn. Now with Glenn, truth be told, Darryl was wondering if he was planning to skip this team building thing altogether. He shows up on the first day with everyone else though, chill as usual. But, surprisingly Glenn showed up before Darryl did on the second day of dancing, even opened the door of the HQ up for Darryl that day. Offered him a coffee too. Weird, the sports lover had thought while accepting it and going inside. Only a few lights were on, enough to light up the path to the storage room and bathroom nearby. He thought about putting Glenn to work to help clear up the storage room and set up the snack and water table. [They decided to move to another room for space]. However, by the time, he remembered to ask-- Darryl finished half the room and Glenn was snoozing in a fold-up chair, legs resting on a storage box. Whenever he sees Glenn hanging around with his demon traits clearly hidden away, he remembers how Nicky stomped on his toes during one of their barbecues. Grumbled something about how his dads being proudly demonic was a great thing and maybe Mr. Wilson's judgey crosses and prayer beads were the actual horror. Mrs. Foster did come around soon after, getting Nicky to apologize. The words were like gum stuck to his shoes though: uncomfortable. Glenn never said anything at all about his reactions, yet it was suddenly so easy to see the next few times Darryl instinctively pulled out the cross or clutched the beads. Feet taking a few steps back, flames glowing slightly brighter, a tail quickly hidden under clothing. Oh. Maybe the kid had a point after all.

"You...uh, you good, coach? Been staring me down for a few minutes now."

[to be continued]

#darryl wilson #ron stampler #henry oak garcia #henry oak #jodie foster dndads #dndads jodie foster #glenn close dndads #dndads glenn close #dndads #abeinginsand writing tag #dndads headcanon #dndads fic #fanfic #wip friday #one of the things hiding in my drafts #this is also related to glenn's morgan but I swear its not angst writing again--(I'm dragged off stage)

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c-nstantine · 2 years

Text

Crush on you

Description: Peter meets Y/N Wilson

Word Count: 0.5k

Warnings: None, just fluff, Sam being an over protective uncle

Peter tended not to pay attention to where he was going when rushing through the Avengers' compound. Even with his web-slinging abilities, Peter Parker was running about fifteen minutes late to his meeting with Tony Stark. This wouldn't be a problem if he didn't have to dodge a person around every corner.

"Oh, gosh. I'm so sorry," These were the immediate words Peter said as he ran into someone. Papers went on the floor and Peter landed flat on his butt.

"Oh, it's fine. I didn't want to go to my meeting anyway," The stranger joked as she gathered her papers. Peter looked up as he helped gathered his papers. He had never seen a girl so beautiful in his life. She had shoulder-length butterfly locs and wore a yellow sweater with a black skirt. She looked to be around his age.

"I'm Peter Parker," Peter said sticking out his hand, which the girl shook. He gave a small smile.

"Oh, you're Mr. Stark's intern. I'm Y/N," She responded, returning the smile. Y/N looked down and noticed that she was still holding Peter's hand. Her eyes widened and she dropped his hand while mumbling a quick apology.

"How'd you know I'm Mr. Stark's intern?" Peter asked while rubbing the back of his neck. His cheeks were tinted a light shade of pink.

"My uncle told me," Peter couldn't determine if this was a good or bad thing. The cute girl's uncle could be a random agent or he could be an Avenger that could kick Peter's ass.

"Just out of curiosity, who's your unc-" Peter was interrupted by Y/N's name being shouted from down the corridor.

"Y/N, I was looking for you," Sam Wilson announced as he placed a hand on Y/N's shoulder. With a quirked eyebrow, he looked between his niece and Peter.

"I was on my way when I bumped into Peter," Y/N said as she gestured towards the boy next to her. Peter did an awkward wave as his mind fumbled to form any words.

"Hi, Mr. Wilson, sir," Peter hadn't had a formal conversation with Sam since the whole webbing him to the floor of a German airport. Peter did apologize but it was safe to assume that Sam still held a grudge against the teenage boy.

"Come on, Y/N we're going to be late," Sam said looking Peter up and down. Y/N's eyebrows furrowed as she watched her uncle disappear into the sea of people.

"I better get going but we should get lunch together one day,"

"Yeah totally, yeah," Peter said but he doubt that she heard him. His heart banged against his chest as he watched her walk away and he released a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Kid, how is it you have zero game?" Tony asked while holding a box labeled 'Stark Do Not Touch'. He shook his head in the disappointment of his protégé.

"I have so much to teach you," Tony said passing the box off to Peter. In all honesty, Peter wasn't paying attention to a word that Tony was saying. His mind had run off to la la land and his thoughts were consumed by Y/N. Sure he had only met her fifteen minutes ago but it was clear he had a crush on Y/N Wilson. Sam might actually kill him.

#peter parker #peter parker x black!reader #peter parker x black reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x poc!reader #x black reader #x black!reader #black!fem!reader #marvel #c-nstantine

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sarahsmi13s · 1 year

Text

Lieutenant Rogers - pt 1

Call Sign ‘Star’

(not my gifs)

pairings: romantic!neil ‘omaha’ vikander x rogers!reader, platonic!dagger squad x rogers!reader, plantonic!sam wilson x rogers!reader, platonic!bucky barnes x rogers!reader

characters: y/n rogers, neil vikander, the entire dagger squad (admirals and captain included), penny benjamin, sam wilson, bucky barnes, james rhodes (this chapter only), john walker, lemar hoskins, misc. characters from both universes

warnings: language, blood, fighting, sexual inuendoes, john walker, cannon dangers, cannon deaths, suggestive themes, if i miss any please let me know

word count: ~3.2k

a/n: if you couldn’t already tell, i’m OBSESSED with crossovers. reader is the daughter of steve rogers, and has the super soldier serum as well

sources: Top Gun: Maverick (2022) , The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (2021)

summary: 13 pilots were called back to Top Gun in 2023. at the same time, Lieutenant Rogers learns that her father’s shield was passed down to John Walker.

reader’s call sign: ‘star’

pt 2 pt 3 pt 4 pt 5 pt 6

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

You stared at Sam from your spot leaning on your bar. “Say something.” “Why? Why do you want to give me the shield?” “Because you're his child, Y/N. It should belong to you.” You shook your head, “No, Sam, he gave it to you. It’s yours.” “Yes, which is why I am now giving it to you. If it’s mine I can do what I want with it.”

You rubbed your face, “Sam, I can’t take up the mantle. Dad wanted you to take it over, and I agree with him.” “Why can’t you take it?” “Because I'm on active duty, and the Navy is where I belong.” Sam hung his head.

“I can’t fill his shoes. This shield- it means something to so many people. Me included. But Steve gave it that meaning. I’m gonna let him down.” You sighed and pulled Sam out of his chair. “Sam, I won’t begin to understand why you feel that way. You could never let him down.” You hugged him, “He trusted you with it. And I do too. I know you’ll only do what you think is best.”

He hugged you back, sighing as he looked at the photo on your mantle in your house and the folded flag in its protective box. Sam wrapped his arms a little tighter around you before letting go.

“I’ll let you get back to getting ready. Have a good night Y/N.” He walked past you to the door. “Sam, wait!”

He stopped with his hand on the handle, “You sure you don’t want to stay? I’m sure Neil wouldn’t mind you staying for dinner.” He shook his head, “I’ve got plans tonight, but maybe some other time.” You nodded, “Okay. Call me if you need anything. Love ya Sam!” “Love you too kid!”

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

When Sam told you that his plan was to turn the shield over to the museum for the Captain America exhibit, you weren’t happy. But you realized that this was what Sam thought was best, what he thought was right. You trusted Sam, so you supported him.

He asked you to be there at the ceremony, for support and reassurance. So, that’s what you did, with permission from your superiors of course.

Wearing your dress blues, you stood right next to Rhodey. “Lieutenant Rogers.” “Colonel Rhodes.” He sighed, “I’m not gonna lie, I’m surprised to see you here.” “Is that because I’m on active duty, or because of a more personal thing, sir?” He chuckled, “Bit of both.” You sighed, “I’m here to support Sam. I know he needs it from me. He sure as hell isn’t getting it from Bucky.”

“Has he even talked to Bucky since the funeral?” You shook your head, “I don’t think so.” “Have you?” “I’ve tried. I’m not sure he wants to talk to me.” Rhodey just nodded.

Sam stepped up to the podium, “Steve represented the best in all of us. Courageous, righteous, hopeful. And he mastered posing stoically.” The crowd chuckled. “The world has been forever changed. A few months ago, billions of people reappeared after five years away, sending the world into turmoil.”

Sam paused and tears burned the backs of your eyes. “We need new heroes. Ones suited for the times we’re in.” He looked at you and you gave him a reassuring smile.

“Symbols… are nothing without the men and women that give them meaning,” he nodded down to the shield. “And this thing,” he chuckled fondly and picked it up. “I don’t know if there’s ever been a greater symbol. But it’s more about the man who propped it up, and he’s gone.”

You exhaled shakily and looked down, your standard bun not allowing your hair to cover your face.

Sam looked at you before continuing, “So, today we honor Steve’s legacy. But also, we look to the future.” You looked up and made eye contact with Sam, him giving you a small smile; almost as if to say, You’re his legacy and you are the future.

He looked at the banner behind him. “So, thank you, Captain America. But this belongs to you…” You walked up to be beside Sam as they placed the shield in its display case. Cameras flashing everywhere. You both clinched your jaws.

To him, this was to honor Steve. But to you, this was like you were truly putting him to rest, and you really didn’t know how to feel.

Afterwards you, Rhodey, and Sam were talking with some government official (that’s literally what the IMDb says). “Thanks again for comin’ forward with the shield, Sam. It was the right decision.” They shook hands and he walked away, nodding to you as he left.

Your phone rang, “I’m sorry, I need to take this.” Both nodded and watched you walk away. “This is Lieutenant Rogers.” Out of the corner of your eye you saw Rhodey and Sam walk away.

“Star, I know you’re taking care of something personal, but I need you back on base as soon as possible.” You nodded, “Yes, sir. It should take me about four hours to get back.” “That’s alright, just get here.” “Yes sir.” You hung up and went to find Sam and Rhodey.

You walked into the exhibit, running into Rhodey making his way out. He noticed the rush you were in. “You get orders?” “Yeah. I need to be back on base as soon as possible.” He nodded, “He’s back there.” You followed his hand, seeing Sam by the shield display. “Thank you.”

You moved past Rhodey. “Hey, Star?” You straightened and turned around. “Whatever it is, give ‘em hell alright?” You nodded, “Of course, sir.” You saluted each other before you moved to Sam.

When you came up beside him, he spoke first.

“Thank you for being here, Y/N. I know this wasn’t what you were expecting me to do,” Sam said with his head hung between his shoulders. “I don’t think anyone was expecting it honestly.” He looked back up, looking at you before moving his eyes to the exhibit.

You sighed, swallowing the lump in your throat, “I’m needed back on base. I’ve gotta go.” Sam nodded and looked down at you, “You better get going, it’s a four hour drive.” You nodded as well and hugged Sam.

“Call me if you need anything,” he said once he pulled away, patting your shoulder. “Always do. Tell Sarah and the kids ‘hi’ for me okay?” “Of course.”

When you got back to base, you changed before meeting with your commanding officer, seeing Omaha and his WSO, Halo, there as well.

Once you were allowed in you stood at attention in front of his desk. “Sir, may I ask why you needed me back so urgently?” “You’ve all been called back to TOPGUN.” You looked down at him in surprise before looking at the two next to you. “Sir?” “I wasn’t informed of why, but you along with 10 others were called back. You’re due to report in two weeks to North Island.” You nodded, “Yes sir.”

Since you had moved to North Island after graduating TOPGUN five years ago, you and your boyfriend were allowed to move in early, to get a feel for the island again.

*******

A few days into your stay at the North Island you were watching TV while Omaha had gone to get groceries.

You had finished your beer and were getting up to get a new one, when a news broadcast took over the rerun you were watching.

“Unrest, in the wake of recent events, has left us vulnerable. Everyday Americans feel it. While we love heroes who put their lives on the line to defend Earth, we also need a hero to defend this country. We need a real person who embodies America’s greatest values. We need someone to inspire us again, someone who can be a symbol for all of us.” The man said.

You recognized him as the guy who was talking to Sam after his speech.

“So, on behalf of the Department of Defense and our Commander-in-Chief, it is with great honor that we announce here today that the United States of America has a new hero. Join me in welcoming your new Captain America!”

Your throat dried up as some guy walked out, carrying your father’s shield like it was a damn trophy. Your heart ripped in half. You could already tell this guy was bad news and when he winked at the camera, you nearly threw up.

Tears filled your eyes as you stared at the screen, even though it no longer portrayed the imposter.

You gasped when the bottle shattered in your hand, not even registering how hard you were holding it.

Robotically, you moved to the bathroom, cradling your hand to keep blood off the floor. Then moved routinely as you grabbed what you needed from the drawers and cabinets.

*********

When Neil came home he didn’t expect to see a shattered bottle followed by little droplets of blood on the living room floor and your phone ringing.

But he didn’t panic, instead he set the grocery bags down and went to your phone, seeing “Bird Boy” displayed as the caller ID. He just let it ring as he followed the little droplets to the closed bathroom door.

He looked down at your phone before knocking and saw Sam had called you a lot.

“Baby?” He knocked softly. “Y/N, are you okay? What happened?” When he was met with silence he tried the handle, finding it unlocked. “I’m coming in.” Omaha pushed the door open slowly.

You were sitting on the closed toilet seat with a cut up hand and your other hand slightly shaking with tweezers in it as a small pool of blood was gathering at your feet.

He squatted in front of you, “Doll? You with me?” He wasn’t sure what was going on, maybe you got hit with a bad flashback. But your nod told him it was something else.

He slowly took the tweezers from you, “Wanna tell me what happened?” You inhaled and clenched your jaw as he wiggled a bigger piece of glass out of your hand. “You don’t have to hide it from me…”

As you exhaled, a small sob escaped your throat, “They gave it to someone, Neil. They fucking replaced him, with some Wal-Mart looking asshole.” Omaha clenched his own jaw and exhaled, “I guess that’s why Sam has been trying to get ahold of you.” You nodded, wincing a little as he pulled out some more shards before disinfecting the cuts.

Your phone rang again, but he moved it out of your reach, “After we patch you up. Talk to me about how you feel.” You swallowed, “I want to go UA just to kick this guy’s ass, but I have to focus on this mission, whatever it is. I need to carry on the legacy of Captain America, shield or no shield.”

Omaha smiled and pressed a kiss to your now bandaged hand. “Plus, it’s not like the government cares what I have to say on the matter anyway,” you dryly chuckled, flexing your hand.

He pulled you off the toilet and into a hug, “That’s my girl.” You hummed and kissed his chest, where his dog tags were. “No, but seriously the guy looked like Carl from Up, I swear.” Omaha threw his head back and laughed, “Okay, come on now. How does steak sound?” “With your mom’s corn?” He kissed your nose, “Whatever you want, Star-light.” You giggled and kissed his lips.

Your phone ringing again made you pull away. “I should probably answer him before he flies up here.” Neil nodded, “I’ll get started.” He left to the kitchen and you took your phone to the back porch.

You answered the phone, “Sa-” “Did you see the news?” You sighed, “Yeah, I sure did Sam.” “God, I swear had I known they were gonna do that I would have never-” “Sam, Sam, I know. I know,” you cut him off. “Had I known they were gonna give it to someone I wouldn’t have let you. But Sam, I need you to be honest with me...” “Of course.” “I can’t be involved with this, not until this mission is over. Will you make sure this asshole doesn’t ruin my father’s image? Ruin his legacy?” “You have my word.” You nodded, “Good, good. I’ve gotta go, talk to you later.”

********** *1 Week Later*

Checking to make sure you had everything, you threw on your dad’s aviators and threw your hair into a ponytail. Getting the keys, you got on your bike and sped to the Hard Deck to meet your fellow pilots and boyfriend.

Walking in while sliding your sunglasses on your head, everyone right by the door turned and smiled at you, greeting you as you walked by. And of course you said ‘hello’ back but made minimal conversation as you went to the bar. You didn’t make a big deal out of your presence just yet and just looked around.

“Y/N Rogers, to what do I owe the pleasure?” You turned and smiled at Penny, “Hi Penny.” “Are you here for the same reason they’re here?” You nodded, “Yes ma’am.” She nodded, gesturing over her shoulder with her thumb, “Want the usual?” “Yes, please.” She nodded and went to get you an Angry Orchard.

Sure, the serum allowed you to hold your alcohol, you just preferred the cider.

When she came back she smiled, “Hey, don’t worry about this one. It’s on him. I’ll start yours on the next one.” You followed the direction she had nodded her head in, seeing a dark headed guy in a green jacket. You tilted your bottle in thanks and he gave a nod and small smile back.

You turned to the group of pilots at the pool table and decided to make your way over.

You walk over to see Hangman walk away and hear the conversation between Phoenix and Rooster. “Well, he hasn’t changed.” “Nope.” You just smirked and took a seat on the barstool by the pool table, nobody noticing you.

“Check it out,” Fanboy said as he walked over to Phoenix. “More patches.” You glanced around the pillar, seeing the group of 5 khaki clad aviators. Payback did a roll call, “That’s Harvard, Yale, Omaha… Shit, that’s Fritz.” You looked back over at the group in front of you. “What the hell kinda mission is this?” Fanboy asked.

You stood up, boots hitting the hardwood floor, “That’s not the question we should be asking.”

Everyone turned at the sound of your voice. You smirked a little and gestured to the group with the butt end of your bottle, “Everyone here is the best there is. Who the hell are they gonna get to teach us?”

“Star, that you?” You turned your head, seeing Bob, your best friend. “Robert Floyd, damn it’s good to see you.” You hugged him. “How’s Lemoore?” He shrugged giving you a small smile, “It was good when I left it. How are you holdin’ up?” Bob lowered his voice when he said that last part. You returned his previous smile, “Better than I thought I would be..”

“Well would you look at that? Thought the room looked a little brighter,” Hangman rested his arms on your shoulders and his chin on your head.

“Who’s ass you kiss to be here?” You gave Bob a smile before elbowing the Texan in the ribs. “No, Bagman it’s kick, not kiss, and I do believe you’re on the list.” He painfully chuckled, groaning as he stood up, “Still as pointy as every, Star.” You nodded, “Best believe it.” You winked before waving to Bob and going over to your boyfriend.

“Hey, Doll,” Omaha said when you walked up to him. “Hey, Baby.” He kissed the top of your head and threw his arm around you.

As you talked with Halo and Omaha, the music cut out and everyone groaned. But soon, piano notes floated into the air, their distinct sound floating over everyone’s voices.

Phoenix was the first to notice that it was Rooster at the piano and got everyone’s attention. “Hey, guys, come on.” You smiled and grabbed Neil’s hand to pull him with you.

Rooster was warming up his fingers when the bell rang. You turned and caught the same dark haired guy from before hanging his head, then everyone began chanting ‘overboard’.

Omaha winced, “Poor guy.” You chuckled and saw that Hangman, Payback, and Coyote were going over to throw him overboard.

Once he was thrown out, Rooster finally started the song.

You sang along, Neil spinning you around and laughing. “Imma tell the world that you’re mine, mine, mine!” You practically yelled in each other’s faces, but laughed before pulling each other into a kiss. You looked down and noticed that he didn’t have a drink. “Here, watch my drink, I’ll go get you one.” “You don’t have to,” he pulled you closer. “Yeah, but the bar isn’t occupied right now, it’ll only be a second.” He nodded, “Alright.”

You walked up and found Penny looking out the window. “You alright, Pen?” She blinked and nodded as she looked away from the door to you. “Uh, yeah, yeah I’m fine.”

You looked to where she was looking and saw once again the dark haired man, this time instead of smiling he looked like he wanted to puke. “Who’s that?” “Captain Pete Mitchell, or Maverick.”

Your eyes widened, “Wait, really?” Penny nodded. You looked at Pete and followed his eyes to Bradley at the piano, and you could put the pieces together. You saw your father with the same look every time he heard a song from his childhood and was reminded of Bucky.

You glanced back to see Omaha dancing with Fritz and you moved to go talk to Mav but he left before you could make it to the door. You sighed and turned back to Penny, who already had the bottle held out to you. “Thanks Pen.”

By the time you made it back over to your boyfriend, Rooster had finished the song and everyone was chanting his name.

**********

After it cooled down, you all regrouped at the pool table. “Star, I didn’t even see you come in! Holy shit, how have you been?” Rooster hugged you, rubbing your back. “Could be worse, all things considered. But how about you?” “Not too bad, not too bad at all.” You smiled and rubbed his shoulder.

He took a sip of his own drink before his brows shot up and he quickly swallowed it. “How are you and Omaha?” You smiled, a blush spreading across your face, “We’re good. We’re really good.” Bradley smiled and patted you on the back before going over to play Phoenix and Bob in a game of pool.

“Hey, Star-light,” Omaha said, and you could just hear the smile in his voice. “Hi, Baby.” “You wanna play a round of pool? Loser has to do whatever the winner says?” You hummed and raised an eyebrow, “You sure you wanna make that bet, Honey?” He hummed back, leaning down into your ear, “Win or lose, I feel it’ll be worth it.” Neil playfully nipped under your ear. “You’re on.”

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

NEW SERIES ALERT!!!!

I hope you all enjoy this first part in my new cross over series

We’re in for a ride

How do you think the first day at training will go?

tags <3: @milesdickpic @luckyladycreator2 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp

<3 love ya babes

#omaha x reader #neil omaha vikander #rogers!reader #neil vikander x rogers!reader #lieutenant rogers #top gun maverick #marvel #marvel/top gun maverick #crossovers #dagger squad x reader #call sign: star #falcon and winter solider series #tfatws #john walker #captain america #steve rogers

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dira333 · 8 months

Text

5 Times You Need Sam Wilson

You sneak around a pillar, gun ready, ears strained to hear even the faintest sound. This level of the high-rise building you’re in is still under construction, there’s plastic tarp everywhere and from one of the rooms to your far left you can hear the frequent dripping of a leaky faucet.

You’re on your own.

Every breath you take is slow and calculated. You can’t risk any unnecessary noise as you jump out of one pillar, secure the area before you and slip behind the next pillar to shield your back.

You take one hand from the gun and press the watch against your mouth to whisper into the tiny mic.

“Sam! Where are you? What’s the situation?”

There’s only a low crackle in your ear instead of the answer you desire.

You count to five and try it again.

Okay, you tell yourself, Sam needs you. You bite your lip as you come up with a plan.

Three steps.

You will move to the staircase, check if someone’s upstairs and go down to help him.

Just as you move to jump out of your hiding place, heavy footsteps enter the level you’re in. A voice, loud and familiar, calls out to you.

“No use in hiding, Y/N.” They say it lightly, with just a hint of a tease, and it lets a chill run down your spine as you slowly move around the pillar, looking for a chance to fire.

You take a deep breath and whisper into your mic again.

“Sam! The monkey is on my level. I repeat the monkey is on my level. I can’t take him down, I’m out of ammo! I need you up here!”

You don’t wait for an answer as you move forward, looking into an empty room.

Laughter rings through the room.

“You’re getting sloppy, Y/N. I could hear you. You’ve got no ammo! What are you gonna do? Throw your gun at me in the hopes to knock me out?”

You heave a sigh.

“Fine, Stark! Fine! Do you want me to give up? Or do you want to shoot me down like an animal?”

There’s silence, two steps in your direction and then he speaks again.

“Come out of your hiding place, hands in the air, and I will think about it.”

“I won’t come out until you promise, on all of your suits, that you won’t shoot me if I come out. Those bullets hurt like hell!”

“You should know, you took down half of the teams downstairs in the first five minutes.”

You snort. And try to locate him as he speaks.

Finally, you see his left shoe peeking out from behind one of the pillars and another set of shoes right at the door.

“Promise me, Stark, or I won’t come out. You were the one bitching about how you’ve got better things to do than playing paintball with us.”

“Fine. I promise. Are you coming out now?”

“I am.” You tell him and step out from behind the pillar.

Tony shoots out of his hiding place, paintball gun drawn, ready to make a rainbow out of you, but he’s too slow.

Sam’s shot hits him right in the arm and explodes into a fountain of green, staining his training jacket.

“Where did you come from?!” Stark hollers in annoyance and Sam salutes him with a cheeky grin.

“Always one step ahead of you, monkey. My best girl told me she needs me, you think I’m far away?”

Tony grunts. Sam walks over, gun lowered, hand raised, asking for a high five. He thinks the fight is over, but you see just a flicker of silver from behind one of the unfinished walls. You shoot before you realize you’re doing so and are rewarded with Clint’s voice cursing like a sailor.

“You said you were out of Ammo!” Tony claims while Sam high fives you.

“Fifth win in a row, we’re on fire!”

“You’re not allowed to be a team anymore,” Tony claims and helps Clint out from his hiding place, “How did you even see him?”

Gunshots are ringing through the narrow street as you run, jumping behind everything solid enough to protect you whenever you hear another armed drone coming your way.

You’re on your own, but this time, it’s not just fun and paint.

There’s a low crackle in your earpiece and you press a finger against it as you throw yourself behind a pile of wooden boxes. The one on top burst into millions of wooden splinters as a drone empties its ammo inside it. You’re glad it was just the box and not your body.

“I’m on my way to the target, ten minutes top, faster if you guys could do something about the drones coming my way. How’s the situation over there?”

“Tight,” Sam’s voice is strained. As one of the few Avengers that can fly, he’s incredibly useful against this shitload of drones, but he’s got also most of the work to do.

“Did you guys come up with any idea of how I’m going to make it out of the target after I placed the bomb?” You ask, fighting to keep your voice professional. You have your orders, you’re going to follow them, no matter the cost.

“I’m going to pick you up,” Sam says, matter-of-factly and you don’t dare to argue with him. You just hope he will make it there in time.

You pick up speed again, running as fast as you can from one possible hiding spot to the next.

You crash into a stone wall hard enough to let a sharp pain shoot through your shoulder. You keep running.

You slip on a small patch of ice, your knees colliding with the floor with enough force to knock the breath out of you for a moment. You get up and keep running.

“I’m at the target,” you pant into the mic, “Sam, tell me you’re close.”

“I’m close!” He yells back and you can literally feel the lie in his words.

“Doesn’t matter,” you tell him, “Time’s up, I have to activate the bomb.”

You look at the factory around you, drones swarming out of boxes, walls, crates as if they’re giant bees and you’re in the middle of the swarm.

You press the button without hesitation, activating the only thing that can possibly take out all of them at once.

And then you turn and run like you never have before.

If you can make it to the front door in time, you might have a chance.

“Sam!” You yell into your mic, “I’m running to the entrance, but I need you to pick me up! I’m dead serious here! I need you!”

There’s no answer in your earpiece. You keep running anyway.

You strain your ears, hoping to hear the sound of his wings or even his voice, but instead, you hear the countdown running out and the almost inaudible click as the timer goes from 1 to 0.

The door is right in front of you. You jump through and keep on running, eyes on the road.

You don’t see Sam shooting out of the sky, you don’t see his arms stretch out as he grabs you and turns with a flick of his wings, just in time.

“Did you think I wouldn’t make it?” He asks and has the audacity to grin as he moves the two of you out of the way as a burning drone flies past you.

You just laugh, unable to speak.

It’s past midnight and you lie in your bed, counting the ways in which you’ve almost died, hoping to fall asleep, but it’s to no avail. The sounds coming from next door are just too disturbing to fall asleep too and you find yourself pulling your phone from your nightstand before you can stop yourself.

Y/N: Are you awake?

Sam: Unfortunately I am, why?

Y/N: Unfortunately? What did you do? You were fine yesterday… I mean the day before yesterday.

Sam: Why do you always assume it’s my fault?

Y/N: Well, is it?

Instead of writing back, he calls you and you pick up, feeling way happier than you should.

“It’s not the point,” he greets you with a husky voice and you laugh.

“That means it is your fault. What did you do?”

“Some stupid dare. I got a cold.”

“Ooooh, did poor Sam get the sniffles?” You laugh softly, “Do you want me to bring you soup?”

“I’m already sick, why would I want your soup?” He asks back and you laugh again, stopping short when he asks you why you’re still awake.

“My neighbors are up,” you tell him, trying to ignore the explicit noise coming from beneath the thin walls.

“So?”

“Well, they are a young, married couple and my walls are very thin.”

Sam laughs. “There’s a seven eleven on your way. I’ll tell you what to bring.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because you need to hear my voice to fall asleep?”

“I do not.”

“You do. Now play nice and tell me what I want to hear.”

“I need to get out of this apartment before I lose my mind?”

“Fair enough. Now, get something to write. I want Oreos. And not the cheap ones.”

Fighting in the rain is terrible.

Fighting in a rainstorm is downright crazy.

Fighting on a freaking ship in a rainstorm is downright insane.

“I want to die,” you tell no one in particular as Clint brings the Quinjet to a height where you can jump out and onto the ship below.

“Cheer up, rockstar,” Sam claps his hand on your shoulders and for a brief moment you think of that hand and that arm slung around your shoulder as you lounge on his couch and dip Oreos into cups of milk when you should be sleeping. You blink and the memory is gone.

You frown instead.

“I’m going to die,” you tell him, matter-of-factly, “Someone’s going to kick me off that freaking nutshell and the stealth suit I’m wearing to protect me will pull me down and I die.”

A few of the other’s turn around to send you concerned looks.

“I’m afraid of ships, okay?” You complain but grab your parachute anyway.

“You can deal with being almost killed by explosions but you’re afraid of fighting on a ship?” Sam asks and ushers you forward in line. Steve jumps out first.

“An explosion doesn’t think,” you explain, “If you’re lucky and know what to do, you can survive easily. A ship filled with enemies is different. Every one of them can think and they want to shoot me or push me into the freaking sea.”

“I’ll buy you oreo’s when this is over,” Sam offers and pushes you out of the Quinjet when you open your mouth to answer.

You should have stayed inside. You’re soaking wet when you finally make it onto the ship. If you survive this, you will get rewarded with the worst cold in history.

You focus on fighting instead, on making your way from one point to the other on the slippery wet floor, on balancing yourself on a ship that moves beneath your body.

“See,” Sam shouts from above, his voice barely audible even through the earpiece, “This isn’t so bad, is it?”

“How are you even able to fly?” You ask back, eyes on him. What a stupid, stupid mistake.

Something hits you out of nowhere, with enough force to knock the breath out of you.

You stagger, one, two steps backward, there’s something hard pressing into your back. You pull your fists up, trying to see who’s attacked you. Something moves right between your feet. You try to jump away, slip on the marine roop and fall backward. And this time, there’s no railing holding you back.

The sea is cold, colder than you’d thought it could be, but you were right about your stealth suit pulling you down. You try to swim up, but the water is black and the sky is black and you can’t tell where’s up and down in this darkness surrounding you.

When you come back to your senses, you’re lying on your back, someone’s hands on your chest, someone’s lips on your own. You feel a cough wracking your body and that someone moves away, helps you up as you cough and spit disgustingly salty sea water onto your wet legs.

You take a breath, and then another one. Your throat burns, your eyes prick, and one of your ribs feels like it might be broken, but your lips burn as well and you turn around.

“Easy there, Rockstar,” Sam mumbles softly, pushing you back down onto the ground, “Steve’s cleaning up, Nat’s somewhere questioning the bad guys and Clint is trying to get closer so we can get you out of the rain.”

“Sam!” You croak, “I need you to-” Your voice breaks and you swallow dryly, suddenly anxious about what you wanted to say.

“You need me to what?” He asks, “Are you in pain? Do you need me to get you something?”

“I need you to do that again,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself, “That thing with your lips.”

He stares at you in silence for a second that feels like a lifetime, before his mouth pulls into a lazy grin.

“You’re right,” he mumbles slowly, “You do seem awfully out of breath.”

The two of you lean forward at exactly the same time, your lips meeting right in the middle.

The kiss is soft, almost hesitant, tasting and testing the waters.

Sam pulls back first but grabs your hands while he does so and presses his forehead against yours.

“Not to ruin the mood,” he whispers, “But we’re still on a mission. And you taste like you’ve tried to french kiss the sea.”

“We could pick up where we left when we get back?” You offer.

“Oreos on my couch?”

Now it’s your turn to pull your lips into a lazy smile.

“Deal.”

“I hate this color,” you tell Sam as you carefully place the dress in the back of the car.

“I know,” he says, “But you look good in it.”

“No, I don’t,” you disagree, “That’s why my cousin picked it. She’s the bride. She can’t have the bridesmaids looking better than her.”

Sam laughs and pulls the passenger door open for you.

“I don’t know if I should be proud of you for acknowledging your own beauty or worried because of your ego.”

“Both,” you tell him and kiss his cheek before you get in the car, “And because I have such a big ego, I’m going to choose the music on this car ride.”

“Only if I can choose on which side of the bed I’m going to sleep in the hotel.”

“Only if I can choose what time we’re leaving the party tonight.”

A day later you stand in front of the mirror in your hotel room, looking at the chartreuse color of your bridesmaid dress as Sam steps out of the bathroom.

“Can you do my tie?” He asks, holding up a tie in the exact same color of your dress.

“I know that you’re very much capable of doing it yourself,” you tell Sam as you tie it for him. He smiles down at you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. And I know you love when I tie it for you and I think that is cute, but it can only cheer me up so much when I have to realize that chartreuse freaking suits you.”

Sam grins cheekily. “Everything suits me.”

“You’re damn right,” You sigh, “And I’ll have to take a drink to get through with this.”

“Don’t drink too much,” Sam warns you as you pour yourself a glass, “You’re a lightweight.”

“Am not.”

“Are too. And you snore when you drink. I don’t want to spend my time in this amazing Hotel with you snoring into my ear.”

“You snore all the time,” you swat at him as you take the first sip, “And I never complain.”

Sam smirks. “You’ve already told me three times that I have a very cute snore, thank you very much.”

You pout. “It’s unfair. You sound just like a cat.”

Three hours later you’re pulling a guy walking your way to the side.

“You. I have no clue who you are, the bride’s freaking out. I need you to get her father, big guy, sweats a lot, has a stomach for three? Not the mother, just the father. He’s the calmer one. The other guy looks like this.” You show him a picture of Sam on your phone, “Black suit, chartreuse tie, the most attractive guy in the room, you can’t miss him. Tell him I need him here, it’s an emergency… Now go.”

Two minutes later Sam barges into the hallway, a look of panic on his face that calms down when he sees you.

“Are you okay? That guy was talking about an emergency.”

“Bride’s freaking out,” you tell him, “Her father should be on the way.”

“You’re not trying to calm her down?” He asks surprised.

“I tried to. She screamed at me. Apparently, I will never get married with an attitude like mine. I do not understand that chartreuse is a hip color that channels the power of nature, my job is not child safe and sarcasm kills relationships. Oh and apparently I’m not allowed to stand with the others when she throws the flowers because I’m too good at catching stuff and it would be unfair.”

“That’s harsh.”

“Just a bit,” you answer and bite your lip before you can say something you might regret later. Right then your uncle walks down the hallway and sends you a smile.

“Go on, kids,” he says, “We will be down in a second. That’s just the nerves. That happens to every bride.”

“I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t act that way,” you tell Sam before you can stop yourself as you walk down towards the main event. You freeze, but he just takes your hand and squeezes it.

You manage to keep the smile on your lips during the rest of the wedding, but as everyone lines up for the flower toss, Sam grabs your hand and pulls you up.

“Come on, it’s time to go to bed.”

“What?” You look at him in surprise, “It’s not even that late.”

He sends you a look that makes you shut up and follow him.

When the door of your hotel room closes behind you, he turns around, pinning you against the door.

“You always finish my Oreos before I get the chance,” he starts, “You snore when you drink and you wake me up when you can’t sleep. You can’t stop complaining when you hate something, like the color chartreuse-”

“It’s the worst color,” you defend yourself and he shushes you with a quick, heated kiss.

“You take your job seriously and that scares me sometimes and your sarcasm is on a whole other level, but I love you and I need you by my side. I want to marry you. Someday. Not today, preferably.”

“Are you asking me to-”

“No,” Sam interrupts you, “I’m not a dick. I don’t ask you to be my wife on the wedding of someone else. But it will happen and you won’t see it coming.”

“I would argue about that surprise thing with you, but I won’t,” you tell him, “I’ll just tell you that when you’ll ask, I’ll say yes.”

“Good,” Sam grins, “Now, can I help you out of that awful dress?”

“Only if you rip it, please.”

#my writing #Sam Wilson x reader #Falcon x reader #Avengers x reader #Sam Wilson

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