#sarah wilson x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

neonovember · 22 days

Note

Request: Sam Wilson x younger, platonic! reader

Plot: Reader relaxing around Sam’s place in Louisiana-Bucky can be in it, reader’s relationship with him would be platonic or familial.

Louisiana Sun

steve, sam, bucky x platonic!daughter!reader, generous nods (i practically wrote a whole confession) to sarahbucky

things; dad!steve rogers moments, over protective steve, reader makes some risky decisions, bucky and same are basically your uncles, bucky is in love with sarah and louisiana by extension,

w/c; 4k (reader had to do a lot of convincing to let steve believe she wont get kidnapped in the presence of two soldiers)

You’ve never felt love like you did in Louisiana.

The sun baked grass, the humid winds kissing your shoulder. The vibrancy of colour and life that explodes on the streets, and in the caring waves of neighbours.

You taste home whenever Steve drives you up to Sam’s rickety gate, slamming the car door open to his objection and running through the winding bend of grass and willow trees. You can't wait for Steve to pull into Sam’s drive way, the bleached wooden porch calls to you in a way you can’t ignore.

So you find it exceptionally painful whenever Steve is swarmed with so much work he can’t make the drive up. And there was no way Steve would even let you take a plane ride by yourself, he says it’s cause he’d be too afraid but you think it’s because you help with the dishes.

It’s Friday evening at the Rogers, a night of pizza and Noir crime films you both adore. It’s spring break, and you've spent every waking hour with Steve cooped up at home. You don't mind it, it has made up for a lot of the father daughter time missed between missions. But god you can’t come back to school and say you spend the holidays with Captain America again.

“So..Sam called” You murmur, fainting nonchalance whilst you watch his every expression out of the corner of your eye. Gene Tirney’s whiskey voice blares from the TV screen in front of you.

“Uhm?” Steve replies with his mouth full.

“Yeah, he was wondering when I’d come down again to see ‘em. Bucky’s spending some time there too, helping out with the boat and Sarah” You reply, stretching your arms out in front of you.

“And what did you say” Steve replies after wiping away the smudges of sauce from his chin, eyes widening

“I said I’ll have to check with Corporal Rogers first” You tease

“Hey, I’m not anywhere near..”

“Dad we haven’t left this house in weeks, I’m not going to go another week locked in here” You reply

“I let you go places..remember Monday?”

“When you asked me to buy your cream of mushroom from the Bodega?!” You shriek, eyes boggling.

“Yes..?” Steve replies unsure, eyebrows furrowing

“That was a chore. For your own benefit by the way, I mean who in their right mind likes cream of mushroom?” You reply

“Ay, I’m not going to let you disrespect my taste in food for the second time today” Steve replies

“Oh please, I barely said anything about your choice of onions as a pizza topping-

“My pizza topping?? I was reconsidering dinner when you wanted pineapples. Fruit should not belong on pizza, there are rules. When I was your age we had-”

“To boil everything or else we’d get tetanus and die” You moan, rolling your eyes

“No..when I was your age I don't think pineapples even made it to New York yet” Steve murmurs, hand on his chin as if to truly consider it.

“Are you sure you're my father?” You reply, and are met with a soft cushion flying towards you.

“Work’s just been a lot lately kid. And I miss you too darn much to let you leave my sight. You know how I am, I see kids go missin’ everyday. Don’t know what I’d do if that happened to you cause I was reckless”

“You aren't getting sick of my face?”

“Never”

“You’re not being reckless Dad, I’m going to be with Sam for gods sake, and Bucky too! In Louisiana of all places! They probably mug you with bugnes as pistols” You giggle

“Don’t joke about that"

“Oh come on! You both were on a team for like eighty years, you don't trust them?”

“Of course I trust them, they’re your designated ‘if i get in a freak accident they take over’ people.

“Hey! Don’t joke about that” You quip

“I just like knowing you're near” Steve replies after chuckling

“I could just stay for a weekend! I’ll be back before you know it. Swear” You plead.

“You say that now..” Steve cocks his eyebrows, part of him knew you'd stay six months there if you could

You put on your best heartbroken pouted face whilst Steve goes through the motions of being finally convinced. His eyebrows furrow, his hand coming up to scratch at his golden locs as he considers it.

His shoulders slump, and before he can even say a gruntled “Fine..” You’re cheering, getting up to twirl around the lamp lit living room. Steve chuckles at your antics, eyes glinting with light at the sight of you jumping in happiness.

He knew he’d say yes in the end. You're his little girl, he can’t ever say no to you.

“Whilst you're up, switch out Laura for somethin’ else. We still got a checklist to get through”

“Isn’t it getting close to your bed time, senior citizen?” You giggle, reaching for the box of recorded movie tapes under the bookshelf dresser.

“Age ain't going to stop me from showing you what good cinema is” Steve barks, reaching for his glass of water gingerly.

You’re half through the Maltese Falcon, Sam Spade flickering his cigarette in flashes of black and white when Steve's phone rings.

He groans loudly, lying on his back with his legs stretched and laying on the coffee table with the bitten edges of pizza crust left over. The couch buzzes beneath your weight, somewhere deep within the crevices near spare change and ink pens it vibrates.

“You gonna get that old man?” You turn to Steve, mouth filled with cheesy saucy bread

“Easy now Rogers, and finish your mouthful”

You roll your eyes as Steve searches under the blanket stretched across you both, a sound of triumph leaves his throat when he grasps the metallic slick edges.

“Rogers” Steve grunts into the phone

“Ah Fury…Mhmm..didn’t they have Clint on that?..Right..”

You raise your eyebrows at the conversation between Steve and Fury, Steve pinches the bridge of his nose as he plops his head back against the head of the couch.

“For three weeks? Fury, you know I got Y/N to take care of. It’s why I transferred out of the field, it isn’t ‘cause I like reading” Steve murmurs, eyes cutting to you

Your eyebrows widen at that, mouthing to ‘pass the phone’ to Steve who shakes his head at you. Growing impatient, and longing to see Sam, Bucky and Sarah you make a mental note to blame them for the scolding of a century as you reach and swipe the phone from Steve's lazy grip.

“Yeah, I don’t know Fury- HEY”

“This is Steve Rogers manager speaking, yes he can and will be there for the mission”

“Y/N” Fury replies, his voice lit with a hint of humour at your antics.

You wrestle to escape Steve's reflexes, luckily you're a teenage girl who wants something so you're obviously faster. You throw the same pillow Steve had thrown at you before in his face, running behind the couch with the phone tucked between your ear and shoulder, poking your tongue out at Steve.

“Hey Fury! How’s the wife and kids” You remark

“Who told you about my wife and kids”

“Oh Fury, think those confidential documents are safe from a certain Spider?”

“Goddamit Parker..” Fury mutters

You doge a flying pillow headed your way, Steve’s face growing red with frustration at you missing every hit. Super soldier my ass.

“Where’ll Steve be stationed?”

“Prague-wait, aren’t you twelve? I hate to say it but the soldiers right, you can’t just be left alone-”

“One word Fury. Louisiana, Beignets and a bird”

“That’s three words”

“Yeah well I ain't twelve but I didn’t correct you on that did I?”

“I’m an old man, Y/N” Fury replies gruffly

“I’m pretty sure you were in the hospital hallway at my birth..” You murmured

“How did you-?!” Fury replies

You're too busy skipping zig zag across the living room to escape the pieces of pizza, cushions and cd covers flying your way to hear him. You heard it once that it helps dodge bullets, and with the horsepower behind your own fathers arm, you think it matches.

“Makes sense anyways, there isn't a Wilson and Barnes without a Rogers nearby. You guys are like goddamn pack members” Fury replies “Let Steve know to be packed and ready by Sunday”

“Bye Fury” You giggle, swiping the red button before throwing the phone immediately at Steve who lunges for it.

Running to hide behind the first thing you see, you peek out from the forked leaves of a potted plant to see a very angry and very dishevelled Steve.

“Is now a good time to say I got a 90 on my science quiz?” You reply with a gulp

You’re smart enough not to run out the car seat the second Sam’s house comes into view, despite the itchiness festering in your bones driving though Louisiana and not being able to finally set your feet down onto it.

Steve called Sam the next morning, and you had already packed a suitcase of clothes and necessities a few days prior. You always felt healed after every road trip, and tuning out blues and Leon Bridges whilst driving through the country felt like a respite in itself.

As Steve pulls into the dirt drive way, you see Sam perches on the deck waving towards you both. You squeeze your hands into fists until he switches the ignition off, and then you are too. The car door springs open and you're rushing into Sam’s arms, giggling as he twirls you around till you're dizzy and sick.

“You’re Father has been keeping you from us” Sam says, shooting an accusatory dagger towards Steve who has begun to unload your belongings.

“Hello to you too Sam” Steve shouts from behind the open boot with a gruff voice.

Bucky’s booming voice makes its appearance before he does, rounding the corner of the back yard wiping grease off his hands onto a dirty old rag.

“If it isn’t Miss Rogers! Took ya long enough” He replies, pulling you into a tight protective hug whilst Steve sets your duffel bags on the porch edge.

Sam turns to Steve, pulling him into a hug as well, his hand slapping his back with a loud umph.

“Shame you couldn’t stay over here as well” Sam says

“Fury. Clint needs some help down in Nové Město” Steve says tiredly after embracing Bucky.

“When Duty calls” You reply

“Steve answers” Bucky and Sam say in unison.

“It wasn’t me this time” Steve points at you accusingly “The drive up here made me start regretting it enough. Lay off will ya”

“It was okay? We’ve been getting some Black bear sightings along Wood Lake” Sam replies

“We were all right. At least I won’t have a nagging buzz in my ear the drive back” Steve teases,

“Hey!” You reply, playfully pushing his shoulder.

“Don’t worry Y/N, You’re ours now. You no longer have to face that tyrant” Bucky chirps, pulling his hair back into a bun.

“And this tyrant” Steve shifts, looking down at his watch “needs to start heading back”

“Already? Can’t stay for lunch, Sarah’s making her seafood boil” Sam replies

Steve audibly groans, rocking on the balls of his feet as he shakes his head at the thought of missing out on Sarah Wilson's Louisiana renowned seafood.

“She is? Oh my god that better not be a lie Sam” You reply. Sarah’s cooking was like no other, you’ve been begging her to hurry up and make the next best selling cookbook.

“Yup, she's got me on shucking duty” Bucky says, feigning exasperation that held very thinly over the clear adoration Bucky had whenever he talked about Sarah.

You look towards Steve, and he raises his eyebrows as you both communicate silently. Bucky was head over heels in love with Sarah Wilson, it was getting annoying seeing them do this dance.

“Alright, time for goodbyes Kiddo” Steve replies after stifling the smirk that tugs at his mouth whilst he watches Bucky crane his neck at the sound of Sarah coming through the door.

“Steve Grant Rogers, you better not have thought of leaving without giving me a proper hello” Sarah calls, her dark coils pulled into a high bun that has begun to uncurl and frame her face.

“Tsk, Sarah. Of course I wouldn't leave before seeing the better Wilson.

“You got that right” Sarah chuckles, pulling Steve into a hug. Sam grumbles profanities under his breath as he rolls his eyes.

“Where are the boys?”

“Staying with a friend, did ya'll know something about this ‘hoverboard’ mess that's going around?” Sarah questions, exhaustion clear in her tone from dealing with two children wanting something.

“Could probably call Tony and he’d just make one for you” Steve replies with a chuckle at Sarah’s tone.

“Great idea soldier. Knew you were gonna leave early so I packed you a little somethin’ for the road” Sarah smirks, passing the tote bag on her shoulder that even you could smell had something decadent wrapped in careful parchment.

“Sarah Wilson, the woman you are” Steve replies, grasping the bag gingerly with a sigh as he peers into the wrapped dish.

“Ya can say that again” Bucky mutters softly under his breath, his hand coming up to scratch at the nape of his neck as Sarah shifts her gaze to him.

“Okay, I’ll admit it I’m gonna miss you oldie” You say, rocking n your feet as the feeling of separation begins to settle.

“Com ‘ere kid”

You quickly run into the open arms of Steve, blinking back tears as you lean your head on his broad shoulder. Rocking back and forth in his embrace Steve caresses your back tenderly.

“I’ll be back before you know it. We might even stay a bit longer when I do come back” Steve whispers in your ear.

You lift your head “Really? You mean that?” You whisper, as you meet his gaze, searching for any sign of a lie.

“When have I ever lied?”

“Well there was that one time you said you weren't scared of spiders..” You reply before Steve quickly cuts you off

“Okay that's enough”

You giggle, before Steve squeezes you in his arms. Shaking his head as you both part and he sets you back down.

“Never gets easier saying goodbye'' Steve replies, before moving to embrace Sam and Bucky, and placing a chaste kiss on Sarah's cheek before turning back to you.

“Now, call me before bed and in the morning, okay?” Steve replies, his tone morphing into an authoritarian lilt.

“Yep, and I'll text you some photos and videos throughout” You reply sweetly, as Steve nods along with unblinking eyes.

“What are you doing”

“I’m just taking a mental note of how you look exactly as I left you, and I will notice any piercings, hair changes and god forbid tattoos-”

“Okay, okay, just take a photo while you’re at it”

Steve shuffles on his feet, moving the back to his shoulder as he pulls out his phone

“Oh you aren’t actually-” You say, before the flash of Steve's camera cuts you off midway.

“Alright, I think I’m good to go” Steve replies, before nodding your playful punch on his shoulder.

You walk Steve to the car, hugging him goodbye again before Sam and Bucky exchange some information about something confidential, top secret, and definitely one you shouldn't listen in on.

But you do.

And it’s boring anyway.

The kitchen is bustling by mid afternoon, shells of craw fish and prawns scattered on the table counter and the dirty water of shelled oysters flowing down the edge of the grassy front lawn.

The smells of cajun seasoning and buttered corn leaves you asking Sarah when it's done every five minutes till she’s banishing you from the kitchen and sending you off with a lemonade.

You move through the littered toys and figurines AJ and Cass had left in their clear hurry to spend the night at a friend's and push the screen door open with your hip. Careful to not spill your drink, you take a seat on one of the rocking chairs on the porch with a sigh.

The sounds of the nearby pier docked with ships and fisherman makes its way even down the rocky dirt roads of Sam’s place, easy against the chirps and rustles of shrikes up above the oak and willow trees around the house.

You don't come to Louisiana to escape noise, life is all around you when you pay attention to it. New York is always awake, even at night- especially at night. Louisiana has a kind of hum that’s different, it feeds your soul.

Curling your feet underneath you, the screen door opens with a wack as Bucky stumbles onto the porch. The moisture of the beer drips down his fingers as he sits down on the adjacent chair to you.

“Sarah kick you out too?” You reply with a giggle as Bucky grumbles under his breath.

“I was just askin’ if we need to make this much food for four people..” Bucky replies, shaking his head with regret as he rests it on the back of the chair.

“Ooh rookie move mister” You reply teasingly, before Bucky cuts his eyes to you

“Oh and asking the equivalent of “are we there yet” is any better” Bucky banters, taking a swing of his beer before immediately grimacing.

“How’s you get Steve to agree to leave you for three weeks” Bucky starts, bringing his feet up to rest against the porch wooden fence.

“Oh I didn’t, Fury called and I just snatched the phone and told him he’d be there” You replied

“And you’re still breathing?!” Bucky replies incredulously

“I’m shocked by myself. But what about you?”

“Me? What about me?” Bucky replies with an eyebrow raised

“Are you staying in Louisiana indefinitely? Makes it a lot easier to convince Dad to move down here too” You continue

“I..I don't know. Maybe. Helping Sam out with the boat and everything has been good. Really good in fact. The people here aren't afraid of me..or this” Bucky points to the vibranium compartments of his arm.

“I wasn’t, I knew they wouldn't be too” You muse, smiling as Bucky looks up at you.

“Thanks kid. Finally starting to feel normal again, part of the community now I suppose. It’s weird, even back in Brooklyn i never felt so..a part of something before”

“Can’t just up and leave ‘em like I would’ve before. Especially when Sam needs my help”

“And Sarah” You add, hiding the smile behind a nonchalant nod.

“Yeah..Sarah” Bucky adds, his eyes glazing over as he leans back, eyes shifting to the towering tree leaves that cover half the sky.

You watch him carefully, seeing the way his leg jitters a little at the mere mention of Sarah, how so in love he is with her and you can’t help yourself anymore.

“You love her, don't you?” You murmur, as Bucky quickly swings his head to look at you.

“Hmp?”

“Sarah?” You inquire, raising your eyebrows with a smirk.

“I see the way you look at her, the way you both look at each other, and I’m here practically every summer break. Which is never”

Bucky’s face morphs from shock to realisation, sitting upright as he scratches at his dark overgrown hair.

“You think she looks at me? I mean, in that way?” Bucky asks after a pregnant pause, his voice quiet and filled with anxious shyness. He can’t even look at you, looking out into the rounding hills of the roads and houses ahead.

“I know she does. Let it be the teenage girl who can tell who is acting like two love sick high schoolers” You grin, as Bucky’s eyes twinkle, unable to hide the adoration and love about to burst through.

“Or let that Chef who came down from Chicago swept her off her feet..what was his name again?” You tease, wiggling your eyebrows as you take a sip of your melting lemonade.

“Easy now, Rogers” Bucky replies with a bark, jaw clenching at the thought of Sarah being with anyone else.

“Foods ready!” Sam calls out from the kitchen window and Bucky helps you up from your seat, tipping out the last of his drink onto the stepped on grass before you both make your way back inside.

The thick book raised high above your face does little to block out the midday sun, you’re lying on the dock, the wooden planks warm underneath your shirt as the ends of your hair dip into the lake’s surface.

It’s a quiet hidden sort of mystical place, off the side of Sarah’s house where practically nobody but the Wilson's and by extension now you and Bucky now know about. Sarah divulged memories of spending new years here with the boys and their father years before, how it seemed likes their own little getaway.

The yellowed pages of Bucky’s first edition Hobbit flick between your fingers as you fly through the adventures of Bilbo and the fantastical realm of Erebor. You notice AJ and Cass’s squeals and laughter suddenly silent, and for the first time since you had laid down you sit upright looking across the grassy field.

The boy’s frisbee you had lost many games to earlier is dashed to the side, and as you wipe lazy exhaustion from your eyes to see Sam pull out a notebook and pen on the rug. Dusting off the dirt from the dock, you make your way through the grassy foxgloved trail towards him.

“Where did everyone go?” You question, throwing the book onto the soft cushioned floor.

“Bucky and Sarah had to take the boys home, AJ somehow ended up hurting himself on grass. And before you ask no I don’t know how”

You giggle before plopping down on some cushions, stretching your arms out with a groan.

It’s easy to talk to Sam. About school, about New York, about life, everything.The unrelenting sun helps ease the discomfort of certain things sure, but Sam has always been your person.

“Whatcha doing?” You ask, looking at Sam scribble some things into the paper

“I like to write sometimes. Not for anyone else, just for myself. Can be about how I’m feeling some days, people I remember, hell even some poetry”

“I tried the whole journal taking thing, the counselor at school said it might be good since I don't have a “conventional family dynamic”. Psycho babble for, everyone you know and love have fought aliens in space and have the capability to take down a government.

“I mean, there was that one time the Quinjet dropped you off at school” Sam chuckled

“That was one time! And that was because Tony hates traffic” You add, shaking your head at the embarrassment of disembarking from a 30 feet aircraft that works as a spaceship.

“But it must be hard, ya know? Having to share your dad with the rest of the world”.

“Hm? Sarah’s boys share you with them too”

“Yeah, but you know it's different. Parents are meant to be plain, they’re meant to live through us. Imprint all their expectations and dreams onto us”

“Well, maybe you should start seein’ things at what they ‘could’ be, instead of what they're meant to be. Sure, I don't have the kind of Dad that comes from the office at 5pm and has days off. But I get..this. You and Bucky, Sarah and a damn Asgardian King as my family. My Dad spent his whole life fighting, showed me what having immovable morals and good character makes of you. Wouldn’t trade it for the world, makes you feel a lot safer when there's an inbuilt super hero team on speed dial too”

“Damn you Rogers and your century wisdom. You spent a couple decades in the ice too?”

“Haha, don't group me with that icicle.

Birds chirp and warm wind tussles the grass you lay on.

“Oh Louisiana"

“Nothing like it ey?”

“In the entire world. Get now why Steve never allowed me to stay longer than a week”

“Why’s that?” “Cause I'd never leave. I'd probably force him to retire and build a house with his bare hands across the road from you”.

Sam chuckles.

The sound of footsteps makes its way from the trail, and Bucky appears rounding the corner, his vibranium arm glinting in the sun.

“Do I hear the familiar crinkling of Guidry’s?” You shout out excitedly as Bucky raises the familiar peach coloured paper bag in the air

“Easy with the goods, Barnes” Sam calls out, before Bucky plops down next to you, ripping open the pastry bag to unveil the perfectly powdered beignets still warm.

“Told Elijah you had come down for a visit and he gave a little extra” Bucky says, before reaching for one of the pastries dusted in snow.

“Yeah…Steve was right” You reply, after groaning at the sweet and airy taste of the most perfect fluffy pastry you have ever tasted

“Bout what?” Sam and Bucky both say in unison mouths filled and faces covered in powdered sugar

“I’m never gonna leave” You giggle, wiping the sugar from your chin.

The sun makes its disembark down the coastline, as tunes of Etta Jones, Rockettes and Hozier murmur from Sam’s faded blue speaker. You fill your stomach on sugary beignets and sweet tea, leaving sticky fingerprints on card faces through hour long games of Euchre through the afternoon light.

43 notes · View notes

rqgnarok · 9 months

Text

catalogue - sam wilson

fandom: marvel, the falcon & the winter soldier

wc: 4,368

warnings: implied smut, mentions of injuries and scars, blood and bruises. neutral pronouns, no use of (y/n).

summary: you and sam don’t get to see each other often, but when you do, there’s a ritual you insist on going through to deal with your time apart.

masterlist / ao3 / ko-fi

You’re a sight for Sam’s sore eyes.

He hasn’t seen you in over six months. It’s an occupational hazard, he knows, but it’s the worst. Being the Falcon made his personal life take a step back in his list of priorities, and becoming Captain America meant setting the list on fire and declaring Sam Wilson’s downtime practically nonexistent. As far as he’s aware, Sarah and the boys are the only exceptions to the rule.

It’s not all on him. You’re an Avenger, too, even if you’re semi-retired. Semi, because the new kids still look for guidance as much as they can and you still keep a room at the Avengers compound because of it, even if scarcely decorated.

You make your entrance by scaring the shit out of him because of course, you have to.

“Is this what you call watching your six?”

Sam puffs out a sound between a scoff and a laugh. It’s always an interesting mix of emotions with you, Sam has never felt so safe and yet unbalanced than when he’s in your presence. It creates a sort of vacuum in his belly that has him feeling like a kid with a crush, but he’ll die before he ever admits that to anyone. Especially you.

“You know you don’t have to sneak up on me every time.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” you quip, raising your brows and extending a hand that Sam takes to haul himself back on his feet. You click your tongue. “Gotta say, though, it’s a little less charming now that you’re Captain America. Where does that leave national security?”

Sam rolls his eyes so hard he’s about to give himself a headache, dusting off his ass and giving you a quick once-over, taking advantage of your sudden closeness to do so freely. “Thank Jesus the world still has you, then.”

“Only half time,” you shrug, unaware that Sam knows you’ve spent more time at the Avengers compound than your own apartment lately. If he has a few eyes that check up on you when you’re there, well. It’s only cause he worries. “You and Barnes playing in the Big Leagues leaves a lot of unfinished business for little guys like us.”

“Says the little guy who’s been to space,” Sam uses the same argument he always does when you try to downplay your importance in the job you do. It’s like a script, these meetings of yours, always under the excuse of responsibility until it’s not– until the conversation flows into what Sam has been aching for since the last time he saw you.

You roll your eyes like he knew you would. You’ve been an Avenger since before they had the name for it, so if anyone deserves the semi-retirement, Sam concedes, it’s gotta be you. He won’t pretend it won’t be a big hit when you choose to walk away completely, though. Whether that’s to the business or Sam’s life, well. That’s another conversation.

He misses you. It’s hardly a crime.

“And they’ve still got us doing intel like we’re rookies,” you shrug, lessening your significance anyway. As if you weren’t up there in the cosmos chasing after freaking Thanos, but Sam won’t argue with you about this. You already spend so little time together to waste it building conflicts between you.

“Please,” Sam’s a professional, so he doesn’t make a bitchface and say girl with disbelief coating his tone, but judging from the amusement that glints in your eyes, you read through the lines with ease. “Like we’d let the children anywhere near this.”

“Okay, Dad,” you snort. “How are Torres and Barnes anyway?”

“The kid and his grandpa are fine,” he goes for annoyed but his grin is boyish and unrestrained. “Jealous they weren’t authorized to drop by. This is practically a vacation, you know.”

You shake your head, but all in good fun. “If your bosses have you thinking that then you desperately need some real downtime.”

“This is as close as it gets, these days.”

Torres had flown him all the way to Switzerland just so Sam could go and spend a few weeks in a rustic, semi-abandoned town on the outskirts of the city where an old SHIELD safehouse still stood against all odds.

Why he had to go to the other side of the world for some intel, he asked and got no answer. Now it comes to mind how he has no idea where you– his contact– have been stationed lately nor what kind of work you’ve been pulling for whoever it is you answer to these days.

You don’t tell him about it, and he’s quit on trying to ask. Whether it’s because you don’t think he’ll approve of what you’re doing or because it’s strictly classified, Sam doesn’t know.

“Blink twice if they’re holding you hostage,” you say in all seriousness, and he peels his eyes at you without blinking, getting close to your face. You laugh, pushing him away. “Alright, alright, I get it. You’re one with the nation. Let me show you these files and see what Mr. America makes of ‘em.”

The physical files you actually bring with you are minimal, and most of the data you’ve been ordered to skim through is kept in a USB you hand to Sam as soon as the coffee has kicked in. Neither of you are exactly sure what it is you’re looking for so you’re stuck in the studio of the tiny, look-at-me-wrong-and-I’ll-crumble safe house for over three whole days before you finally start gathering some worthy intel.

“I was told we’d known when we found it,” you shrug, not visibly bothered by the fact that you’ve most likely been sent on a wild goose chase. “Or if we didn’t. We might go back empty-handed after all.”

It’s not encouraging but it’s what you’ve got, even if Sam isn’t sure he’s able to be out of commission for that long. He’s realized people get antsy when Captain America isn’t seen somewhere in the world after a few days, but despite how hard he tries he’s not able to be in two places at once.

“Yet,” he tells you when you take a food break and you allow him to rant about these troubles. “Haven’t figured it out yet, but Steve kind of managed it after a few years, right?”

“Steve was superhuman,” you remind him helpfully behind your coffee cup. You’d found some old whiskey at the back of a cabinet and doused your drink with it, so you make a face when it goes down.

“You don’t think I’m super?”

“I think you’re something, alright.”

“Aw. That was almost a compliment.”

“Can’t let it get to your head, hotshot. Ego’s already too big for your body.”

It’s so fucking domestic Sam feels the ache of it in his teeth. You, sitting at the table in your tiny kitchen while he sits on the counter, each drinking your coffee how you like it as the sun sets through the window above the sink. Talking for hours until you realize you’re practically sitting in the dark as the afternoon flew by while you were taken with each other’s company.

But then you go back to looking at intel until your eyes are burning and you excuse yourself to pass out on the couch. You do it almost half an hour to the dot before Sam gives up himself, and he’s pretty sure you know enough of his tells to know when he’s getting tired and make an early escape so he doesn’t take the couch himself.

“You take the bed,” he’d offered the first night, having a little trouble not making it sound like an order. By how you’d raised your eyebrow, he’d failed by a mile. “God knows where you’re sleeping these days. It’s the least I can do after dragging you all the way out here.”

“You’re the one who keeps saying he’s on vacation,” you take your bags from his hands and drop them unceremoniously on the coffee table, marking the living room territory as yours. “And I’m sure the US government will kill me if I bring you back with a fucked up back.”

He almost suggested you could share. You have before, both out of necessity and leisure, but Sam’s sure that topic’s on the list of Things Not To Talk To You About. It might be the first one up there, in all caps and underlined with bright red.

Sam has both held you down to fuck your brains out and held your bleeding body in his hands, pressing against a gunshot wound to keep blood flow to a minimum. It’s a fucked up type of intimacy he doesn’t share with anyone else, but he’s still hesitant to bring it up. Somehow both events keep happening whether he intends for them or not.

It’s like he’s waiting for the shoe to drop, and it finally does on the fifth day of your assignment.

You ultimately get a lead from the USB. It guides you to search for a random code you insist it’s on a file you’d read through already. You make a noise of victory under your breath when you spot it across the table and when you shift to reach for it, your breath hitches.

It’s a quiet thing Sam wouldn’t be able to acknowledge if he weren’t good at his job, but he is.

“What is it?” he asks, suddenly alert, fingers twitching with the urge to hover over you worriedly. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you shake your head. Whatever shadow of hesitance had fallen over you is pulled back into place, tucked away for Sam to blissfully ignore.

You both know that shit won’t fly, but Sam thinks it’s cute you try anyway.

He stares at you and you avoid his eye long enough, face buried in the file, to know you know he’s noticed. It’s a silent request to let it pass.

Tough fucking luck. Sam calls your name, admonishing.

“Sam,” you say right back at him in the same tone, still not looking at him. Sam grinds his teeth in annoyance, jaw tight.

“Are you hurt?”

You shake your head. “I’m fine. You know how it is.”

It’s not a no.

“I do know,” Sam agrees, but his mood’s a short fuse. “Are you grounded? Is that why you’re here? Because you’re hurt?”

Fucking jackpot. You exhale through your nose and tighten your jaw at the question but refuse to answer. You’re a couple of feet apart, divided by the desk filled with files and information, but somehow this is the closest he’s felt to you since you got here.

You’d been hiding something since the beginning; taking the couch when you could’ve been sharing the bed from the start, touching him less than usual so things wouldn’t go further, and moving around the house with rigid, calculated movements.

“Manning the desk,” he says with a little too much bite, and he can physically watch your hackles rise; the annoyance in your eyes when they finally meet his, the biting of your cheek to stop yourself from rising to his sudden passive-aggressive hostility. “Handing me files, giving me intel. You’re flying halfway across the world to keep yourself out of the field.”

“Sam,” you say through gritted teeth.

“You’re hurt,” he replies, not a question, nodding at your torso. It’s all suddenly painstakingly clear, the past week flashing through his mind like a movie from a different point of view. “And you’re hiding it from me, for some reason.”

“Is that all, Captain?” you ask, creating distance with the use of his new title in a way he despises and you know he does. You’re good at that, finding where it hurts and pressing methodically until the skin gives. Sam’s just not used to the trick being used on him. “Or is there something else about my person that you’ve figured out and have yet to enlighten me about?”

“Let me see,” he ignores you. It's easier than trying to match your level of cruel cleverness. He stands to cross over to your side of the desk, staring down at you expectantly with arms crossed. “Come on, show me.”

“No,” you deadpan, but the way you wrap your arms carefully around yourself shows the defensiveness underneath your nonchalance. “Sam, come on, what the hell are you doing?”

“If you’re not hurt, then show me,” he insists but doesn’t reach to touch you without your permission. It’s a line he won’t cross.

“Is that an order, sir?” you snap.

“I’m not your superior,” he replies, even though he is, technically, but not when you’re alone. Not when you’re hurt. “I’m your friend. And right now my friend is in pain, I’d like to be able to do something about it.”

“Like what?” you ask, and it’s as exhausted as it is conflictive. Thunder rumbles outside the house and inside Sam’s chest, two storms coming in. “Huh, Sam? What are you gonna do? It’s part of the damned job. Don’t tell me you’re injury-free right now.”

Sam isn’t. Both old and newer scars put a heaviness on his body he’s not supposed to carry, but he’s not the one hiding right now.

“I can hold you,” he offers and watches the way you look away, imagining the sting in your eyes as they glisten with sudden tears. You very visibly refuse to shed them, tightening your jaw and passing saliva like it’s gravel. “If you’d let me. Let’s not pretend we haven’t done it before.”

“It’s different now.”

“Why?” he wonders, brow furrowing. He does his best to relax his stance and reaches to touch your tight fists where they lay on your lap. With his fingertips barely there on your skin, the tension bleeds out of them like magic almost against your will. “Because I’m Captain America? Because you won’t tell me where you’re stationed half the time?”

“It’s–”

“Classified,” he finishes for you, unmoved. “But you’re still you, and I’m still me. As far as I’m aware, that doesn’t change a damned thing.”

You close your eyes like the words pain you, resolve crumbling right before Sam’s eyes. “I don’t wanna fight with you.”

“Then don’t,” from Sam’s perspective, it’s as simple as that. “Let me see. Let me be with you, please. The last week has been torture.”

You let out a breath of a laugh that’s a little too miserable. “You’re telling me,” you say, and the slope of your shoulders falls from its tense, defensive curve. Sam takes it as the green light it is.

You stand straighter as he kneels in front of you, his hands hovering over the hem of your shirt. He looks to you for permission and you give him a tight nod, staring at the wall instead of him, gulping down your anxieties.

Sam’s breath catches when he lifts your shirt and sees your torso, skin showered in black, blue, purple, and green bruises. “Jesus.”

“It’s worse than it looks,” you say automatically. Sam can’t see how that’s true. It looks like it hurts to even breathe, it’s unbelievable how you were able to hide it from him for so long. “Nothing’s broken, I swear.”

“What the hell happened?” he asks even if he knows you can’t– or won’t– answer. You sigh, and he watches blemished skin shake with the effort it takes.

“I’m alright,” you say instead of the answer he wants, but your voice has softened and lost all fight response. It’s the most vulnerable you’ve been with him since you arrived and it has nothing to do with showing your skin. “Hey, I’m okay. That assignment’s over for good. I’m not going back there, I promise.”

The sigh of relief Sam lets out is shaky and doesn’t relinquish all the tension he’s been carrying. The possibilities of what must’ve happened are gonna haunt him long after this mission’s over.

“I hate it,” he says, and he knows you know what he means. Not knowing where you are, spending more than half the year apart with zero contact, this unease between you that doesn’t let you be honest.

You say, tired. “I know. Sam–”

Sam isn’t touching you– not yet. He’s careful so there’s no skin-to-skin contact, and you look at him with guarded eyes when he lowers your shirt back into place, standing up and towering over you.

“What?”

You breathe air out of your nose, frustrated. “You know.”

A beat. “You sure?” he says, as plainly as he can with the tension that’s grown between you pulling him forward.

“Yes.”

He hums.

“Oh. You gonna let me touch you now, then?” he asks, still under the excuse of medical purposes only. But Sam can’t help the way his voice deepens, molten like honey. His eyes trail over skin that isn’t blemished: the curve of your neck, the lines of your arms, the slope of your fingers.

You shiver under the attention, helpless to hide such a reaction to his voice. “Mmm? Honey?”

“Fuck you,” you say automatically, already opening your legs slightly for Sam to slip in between them, reaching for your jaw. You close your eyes at the touch, sighing away whatever tension remained in you.

You’re too fucking easy, despite the fight you insisted on going through before letting yourself be touched, and something in Sam’s belly tightens at the idea of it being just for him.

Sam’s hands remain on your jaw and throat as he tilts your head up for a kiss, slow and deep, lingering. It’s not long before you open up for him, his tongue sliding into your mouth like it was always meant to be there, coaxing a whine from you while you search for steadiness and settle your hands on his belt. Not pulling, not searching for more– not yet– but keeping him close.

The storm comes and goes and the files in the studio remain forgotten. Sam finally gets you on the bed and, better yet, with him in it.

He’s a little too careful, hands cupping your ribs with extreme caution after finally getting rid of your shirt for good and laying you down against the sheets. You roll your eyes fondly and grab onto his wrists to direct him where you want him.

He doesn’t complain as he takes your directions. The man will greedily take anything you give him in calloused, expert hands as he does his best to pull sounds out of you that are music to his ears.

After it’s over, you both lay in bed, naked and breathless. You find a new scar on him and trace the ragged line of skin gently with your fingertip, touch featherlight, almost nonexistent. It’s been over half a year since you last did this, but only a couple of months since he got himself injured and stitched up by Bucky in the Brazilian jungle. “This one’s new.”

It had been a quick job, good enough considering the circumstances, which is to say Sam now has an ugly, uneven scar a couple of inches above his hipbone that saved him from bleeding out on his partner.

The memory holds no gentleness, but your fingers do. The haze of his previous orgasm leaves Sam pliant under your touch, melted against the sheets and uncaring of your scrutiny. “Barnes?”

Sam makes an affirmative noise, a valid enough question since sometimes he’s admitted to doing patchwork on himself for the sake of the mission, uncaring of how bad it hurts as long as it’s quick and efficient.

“Did it hurt?”

“Like hell,” he admits, feeling safe enough to do so in the cocoon you’ve built for yourselves. Sam runs a hand up and down your naked back as if trying to soothe the brunt of the memory. “Did the job, though. Got us out alive.”

At that, you lean to kiss the skin, only slipping a bit of tongue into it. Sam sighs, ignoring the prick of discomfort that’s trying to crawl up his spine and leaning towards the softer, more tender sentiment that takes over him whenever you get like this. It’s not easy for him to accept such gentleness, to let himself be cared for and lay there, unable to give something back.

He will, in a minute. But he knows you like him like this, and that alone pins him down in his place to let you work. It’d be hypocritical of him, he thinks as his hips twitch with renowned interest, to not let you fret after him when his own worry is what got you here in the first place.

After you’re satisfied, you trail the path Sam’s grown accustomed to, the very same you follow every time you sleep together after a terribly long amount of time:

The knife scar under his pec from when they were chasing after Bucky, still the Winter Solider, superficial enough not to have caused concern at the time. The mark from when he got his appendix out, thinking nothing of the stabbing aches to his belly until he was doubling over in his bed and waking up half his platoon as he retched in the bathroom.

The dot on his finger where Riley accidentally stabbed him with a pencil once, sleep deprived and with two shots of whiskey on him. The wound had healed with ease but the mark made a permanent home on his skin, barely visible unless you leaned in close enough to look for it.

The scab on his knee from falling off his bike when he was six. Sarah had screeched bloody murder until their parents came out of the house to see what all the fuss was about. The scar left behind by a bullet on his right shoulder during his second tour in Afghanistan.

The cut on his lip he got shaving for the first time is always last on your list. Sam has long stopped calling you out on it, how convenient it was that the cataloging of his scars always ended with a thorough, slow kiss to his mouth that usually bloomed into a second round.

He found that you got skittish when he did so, pulling back into yourself and laying tensely in bed for a couple more minutes before you started looking around for your clothes, called out.

Now Sam only cups your jaw, tugs a little so it opens your mouth and he can slip in his tongue and steal a taste of your sigh. He wants you like this for as long as possible; vulnerable, unguarded, desperate to touch him and be touched back. Safe enough to know that you never have to ask for something he wants to give you so willingly.

You always forget. The second you meet again, you have to start the whole dance over. Fish for excuses to meet each other in the middle, hoping for new scars to lengthen your time together.

Sam isn’t a masochist by any means, and he’s not an adrenaline junkie asshat who chases the danger just to have proof on his skin that he can take all the grievances life throws at him.

But. But–

“We’re alright,” you say against his mouth, body warm and seeking on top of his. He’s mindful of your injuries but can’t help himself, the urge to touch you overrules any other instinct he owns. It makes him weak, on the field, but happy off of it. “Aren’t we? We’re gonna be alright.”

“‘Course we are, honey,” his southern charm pops out and you’re both parts equally pleased and unamused, a funny expression on your face that has him laughing as he cups the back of your neck to bring you in for another kiss. “What? What’s with the face?”

“Nothin’, pumpkin,” you imitate his accent and Sam focuses his ministrations on your jaw and neck, trying to get you to break character. “We’re gonna be just fine, sugar plum. You’re sure lookin’ very pretty tonight, peach fuzz.”

Sam splutters out a laugh. “Peach fuzz?”

“That’s what you sound like!”

“See if I ever call you something nice ever again.”

“You can’t resist me,” you say seriously, though a smile keeps trying to break your facade. “You literally lasted five days before taking me to bed. That’s on being weak, Wilson.”

“Some might say it’s a world record for me, baby,” he says, poking at your face until you show teeth, happy and at ease in his arms. “The six months before that were a little bit of a stretch, too.”

Your mood dampens a little but Sam won’t let it, nudging his nose against yours to catch your attention again. “Hey. What did I just say? We’re gonna be alright. Five days, six months, five years, it’s nothing. They mean shit when I get to see you again.”

The mention of the Snap unguards you further. He’d been gone while you tried to keep your life together, ignoring the Sam-shaped void in your surroundings. The first time you got together after he came back had been tainted by the grief of losing three of the best people you’d ever known, and he’d done his own reconnaissance of your skin as he took in new scars, new hurts that had happened and healed while he was gone.

You smile again, but it’s softer, fonder, a tender tilt of the lips for the man you managed to find in this chaotic line of work that became your whole life.

In another five days, you’ll once more be on opposite ends of the world without any idea of when you’ll see each other again or what new marks you’ll have on your skin that describe your time apart. You haven’t even put a name to this– this relationship that both of you are still too hesitant to define as such, but that’s okay.

It’s okay. It’s more than enough. The path of scars will be there to take when you meet again, permanent proof that you’ve survived to find the way to each other over and over and over again. The map that leads to you, every goddamn time.

___

hi!!!

hope you like this one! i’ve been putting this fic on the back burner for almost a month now, but i’m so glad to finally have finished it! i hope to put out the tommy miller sequel for dial drunk next week before school starts :)

thank you for reading, liking, reblogging, commenting, etc.!

#sam wilson x reader #sam wilson #anthony mackie #marvel fanfic #reader insert #captain america x reader #captain america and the winter soldier #catws #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #joaquin torres #danny ramirez #falcon x reader #leo writes #sarah wilson #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier

96 notes · View notes

fromasgardandback · 10 months

Text

𝕆𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕥𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤

MARVEL

Everyone

✩ Summer Road Trip

✩ New Recruitment

✩ Avengers Girls Night

Bucky Barnes

✩ Coastal Bike Ride

✩ Rooftop Conversations

✩ Storm Clouds of Trust

Loki Laufeyson

✩ Serendipity & Mischief

✩ Stargazing and Memory Making

✩ Tour of Asgard Headcanon

✩ Trust Building Headcanon

✩ Drunken Confessions

Marc Spector / Steven Grant / Jake Lockley

✩ Don’t Pretend, Not With Me [M]

✩ Workplace Crush [S]

✩ Egyptian Masterpiece [S]

✩ Friends To Lovers Headcanon [S]

✩ Full Nights Sleep Headcanon [M]

✩ First Dates Headcanon [M,S, J]

✩ She’s Mine Headcanon [J]

✩ Proposal Headcanon [M, S, J]

✩ Bride & Groom First Look Headcanon [M, S, J]

✩ Weddings Headcanon [M, S, J]

✩ Honeymoon Headcanon [M, S, J]

Sam Wilson

✩ Louisiana Lovin’

Thor Odinson

✩ On The Go With The Guardians

Wanda Maximoff

✩ Avenging His Death

STRANGER THINGS

Eddie Munson

✩ Metal Heads Headcanon

✩ Night Out With The Gang Headcanon

✩ Touch-Starved Lover Headcanon

✩ Vacation Headcanon

✩ Promposal Headcanon

✩ First Date Headcanon

✩ I Love You Headcanon

✩ Band’s First Album

✩ Fixing It

✩ Family Video Store

✩ Cold Rainy Days Headcanon

✩ Graduation Headcanon

✩ Fourth of July Celebrations

Boyfriend Eddie Headcanons ✩ School Eddie ✩ Domestic 🌴 ✩ College ✩ Rockstar ✩ Rainy Days ✩ Snowy Days ✩ Summer ✩ Fall ✩ Holidays

Steve Harrington

✩ The Girl Next Door Headcanon

✩ Babysitters Club Headcanon

Max Mayfield

✩ Big Sister Program Headcanon

✩ Healing Together Headcanon

Dustin Henderson

✩ The Favorite Harrington Headcanon

STAR WARS

Anakin Skywalker

✩ Naboo Paradise Headcanon

✩ The New Jedi Order 🌴

Obi-Wan Kenobi

✩ Double Padawans Headcanon

✩ Not A Damsel In Distress

✩ Coruscant Café

ONE CHICAGO (closed)

✩ Family Cookout

✩ Detective Chuckles

✩ Sisters

52 notes · View notes

swan-of-sunrise · 1 month

Text

Hawkeye (Part III)

Summary: On Christmas Eve, (Y/N) and Steve receive some shocking updates from Clint and after the archers’ fight against Kingpin, the Tracksuits and a Black Widow assassin out for blood at Rockefeller Center, the exhausted duo accepts their hospitality.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Hi guys! I'm feeling a bit better now, so I've returned with a longer chapter filled with holiday fluffiness! Thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

Hawkeye (Part III) December 24th, 2024 Holy Cross Cemetery, Brooklyn (Previous Chapter)

“I still can’t believe that people really used to decorate their Christmas trees – their very dead, very dried-out Christmas trees – with lit candles.” (Y/N) shook her head in amazement as they slowly walked past the crumbling gravestones and carefully avoided the piles of snow resting atop the frozen grass on the way down the slope to their parked car. “I mean, weren’t they afraid that they’d accidentally burn their houses down in exchange for a little holiday cheer?”

Steve nonchalantly shrugged and hitched Carina higher up on his waist. “Arsenic was in practically everything, cocaine was prescribed by doctors as medicine, and people guzzled down pure wood alcohol throughout the entirety of Prohibition; trust me, candles on Christmas trees were the least of our worries. Our tree caught fire once when I was ten or eleven and after Ma put it out, she scraped together enough money to buy a secondhand strand of lights and we never put candles on our tree again.” After taking note of her stunned silence, a mischievous smile broke out across Steve’s face. “If you think that sounds crazy, then you probably don’t wanna know why we had to stop putting strings of popcorn and cranberries on the tree…”

“And you’d be absolutely, positively, one-hundred percent correct, sweetheart.”

The morning of Christmas Eve saw the Rogers-(Y/L/N) family visiting the graves of Sarah and Joseph Rogers at Holy Cross Cemetery, Brooklyn’s sole Catholic cemetery; they’d brushed clumps of snow and wayward leaves off the two weathered gravestones, laid bouquets of red and white poinsettias and recounted stories of Christmases past in a continuation of Steve and Sarah’s old yuletide tradition. Typically, Steve never cried or showed much outward emotion whenever they’d visited his mother and father’s gravesite, but that morning he couldn’t seem to keep the happy grin off his face as he held his infant daughter in his arms and explained to his parents that they would soon be giving them a second grandchild. Seeing her husband so happy about having another child and being able to experience the entire pregnancy alongside her always succeeded in causing her heart to warm in her chest, but there was something special about watching him tell his parents about the life that so many people believed – including himself – he’d never be able to live. It’s also given me several ideas of what to do with him after we put Cari down for her nap, she thought with a sultry inward smile, ideas that are a little too risqué to voice in the middle of a Catholic cemetery.

(Y/N) was in the middle of strapping a squirming Carina into her car seat when her cell phone rang. “Sweetheart, could you get that for me?”

“Of course.” He jogged around the car and climbed into the passenger’s seat, grabbing her phone out of her purse and humming in interest when he noticed the name on the screen. “It’s Clint.”

Glancing up from the buckle, (Y/N) shot her husband a knowing look and slowly replied, “That can’t be good…”

Steve nodded in agreement before swiping a thumb across the screen and putting the call on speakerphone. “Hey, Clint; (Y/N)’s hands are a little busy, so I’ve got you on speakerphone. What’s up?”

“Are you guys home right now?”

“We spent the morning laying flowers at Steve’s parents’ graves, and we’re just about ready to head home,” (Y/N) explained, a knot of apprehension beginning to fill the pit of her stomach as she detected the uncharacteristic unease in the archer’s voice. “Why do you ask?”

“We got it wrong, (Y/L/N); it was Eleanor Bishop the whole time. Kate’s mom killed Armand, framed Jack for the murder and forged his connection to Sloan Limited. She’s been working for Kingpin for well over a decade, and Kate only just found out.”

(Y/N), who’d just given Carina her pacifier and a kiss on her forehead, sat back and watched her daughter for a moment before sighing to herself, imagining the overwhelming anger, confusion and hurt that the twenty-two-year-old must’ve felt in reaction to the devastating news. “Poor Kate…how’s she holding up?”

“Better than I thought she would,” Clint replied, and there was a hint of pride in his words as he continued. “Eleanor’s turned on Kingpin and he’s gonna send a message to the city by attacking her company’s Christmas Eve gala, so Kate’s focusing on prepping for tonight’s fight. Those LARPers I told you about are giving us a hand, since most of ‘em are first responders when they’re not dressed up in costumes and pretend-fighting each other with fake weapons, and we’re gonna build as many trick arrows as we’ll need to take out an army of Tracksuits.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Steve’s hand twitch towards the glove box, where they both agreed to stash several weapons in the event that they were ever attacked by any new or former enemies. “Something else is wrong, isn’t it? Did Kingpin find out about-?”

“-No, no, it’s not that. Eleanor hired a Black Widow assassin to kill me; we had a scuffle last night but they retreated before they could finish their assignment. I just learned this morning that the assassin…it’s Yelena.” (Y/N) and Steve’s gazes met and their eyes widened in identical shock. “And this isn’t just an assignment for her. She’s here to avenge Nat’s death by taking out the one person she thinks is responsible.”

“…Clint, you aren’t responsible for the choices that Nat made. You know that, right?”

There was a slight pause on the other end of the call. “I know, Steve. But chances are she’s gonna show up tonight to complete her assignment, so I wanted to give you a heads-up in case she decides to go after you guys next.”

(Y/N) frowned. “You don’t really think that Yelena would-?”

“Nat told her about you, about how you were one of her best friends; if she’s targeting me, then there’s a chance she’ll target you, too. Just be ready for anything, okay? Booby trap the house Home Alone style if you have to, but don’t let your guards down.” The archer cleared his throat. “I’ve lost enough people in my life, and I don’t wanna lose any more of ‘em. You two read me?”

Although Clint couldn’t see them, a stoic-looking Steve nodded once. “Loud and clear. Good luck out there tonight, Clint.”

“And watch each other’s backs,” (Y/N) added, the barest hint of a smile beginning to play on her lips at the thought of the Tracksuits attempting to take on two skilled archers armed with the deadliest and most imaginative arrows in the world. “I’ve only heard stories from Nat about your plethora of trick arrows, so I look forward to seeing their aftermath on tonight’s newscast…but for Scott’s sake, maybe try and avoid using any Pym Particles.”

The archer chuckled. “Yeah, we wouldn’t want Hank to blow another fuse. I’ll be sure to call you guys after the firefight, okay?”

They bid one another goodbye and after Steve ended the call, he looked up at (Y/N) with a glint of determination in his azure eyes. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Biting her lip, (Y/N) backed out of the car’s backseat and closed the door before slipping into the driver’s seat and sighing. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“Brienne,” They both recited at the same time.

Brienne, named for the popular character from Game of Thrones, was an A.I. home defense system that Tony bequeathed to them after his death; according to Pepper, he created it shortly after their engagement announcement as a wedding present but after the Accords and what happened in Siberia, he stowed it away in his archives. It was a thoughtful gift that provided them both with a sense of security, but the A.I. – similar to J.A.R.V.I.S. and E.D.I.T.H. – came with not only a distinct voice, but a distinct and booming yell that was triggered by any movement around the perimeter of their home. The one and only time they’d activated Brienne was when they resided in Maine, and the A.I.’s defensive techniques frightened a passing black bear so badly that it scurried up a pine tree and stayed there for hours. But while (Y/N) was still unconvinced that Yelena Belova would target her in revenge for her sister’s death, she was wary of Kingpin and his considerable forces uncovering her family’s involvement in Clint’s latest mission. I suppose that the annoying A.I. is better than nothing, (Y/N) thought to herself as she switched on the ignition and her husband’s hand moved to rest on her knee, the warmth of his touch working to comfort her as they both silently contemplated their friend’s imminent fight against Kingpin, the Tracksuits and a vengeful Black Widow.

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

“-considerable damage to Rockefeller Center, namely its ice public skating rink and the world-famous Christmas tree. But thanks to the bravery and heroism of Avenger Clint Barton, JOAD Olympian Achievement Award recipient Kate Bishop and a group of off-duty first responders, several dozen members of the organized crime syndicate called the Tracksuit Mafia were apprehended by the NYPD and no injuries were reported by any of the gala’s attendees. Additionally, Eleanor Bishop, CEO of Bishop Security and mother of Kate Bishop, was arrested for the murder of Armand Duquesne the Third, and notorious businessman and crime lord Wilson Fisk was rushed to the Rockefeller University Hospital with life-threatening injuries. After the break, we’ll talk with an eyewitness who claims to have spotted the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man swinging near the scene-”

“All’s well that ends well, I suppose.” (Y/N) remarked with a content sigh, reaching for the remote on the empty couch cushion beside her and switching the channel, settling on a broadcast of A Charlie Brown Christmas before continuing. “I just wish that Kate didn’t have to go through the pain of losing her mother on Christmas Eve.”

Steve, who was sitting behind her and gently massaging circles across her baby bump, pressed a comforting kiss onto her shoulder and rested his cheek on the top of her head as she nuzzled closer to him. “Eleanor chose Kingpin over her own daughter, and now she’s gotta answer for that choice. But Kate’s strong, and if she had the strength to throw herself into danger to do the right thing, then she’ll have the strength to recover from this.”

Something in Steve’s tone of voice made (Y/N) crane her neck to meet his gaze. When she saw the conflicted emotions written across his face and the faraway look in his azure eyes as he watched the cartoon playing on television screen before them, she moved her arm back and softly brushed her fingers through his cropped blonde hair to coax him into looking at her; he blinked and after his eyes finally met hers, she smiled but continued to twirl her fingers around the longer strands of his hair. “What’s on your mind, sweetheart?”

Her husband remained silent for a long moment, only answering after (Y/N)’s free hand moved to rest atop one of the hands that was cradling her bump. “Christmas Eve, 2017. Wanda was off visiting Vision and I was alone in a run-down hotel room in Tunis, just waiting for Sam and Nat to come back from a meeting with one of her contacts. While I waited, I was watching this special dubbed in Arabic. I remember sitting there in that room just wishing with everything I had that I could’ve been here with you, and sometimes…sometimes, I try to imagine how different things would’ve been for us if I’d ignored the risks and the mission and come home for Christmas.”

(Y/N)’s smile faltered a little as she realized what he was tentatively referring to; late into December of 2017 was when she’d discovered that she was three months pregnant, and Steve wouldn’t find out about his daughter’s existence until the summer of 2018, when the Black Order invaded and they fought in the Battle of Wakanda. Steve met his daughter that day, only to tragically lose her several hours later in the Snap, and he’d suffered with the grief of her sudden loss alongside (Y/N) for five long years until Bruce’s Snap brought all the Vanished back. “Steve…”

“I know, sunshine, I try not to but I can’t help it-”

“Sweetheart, it’s okay,” (Y/N) gently reassured him and when Steve took a shaky breath, she cupped his cheek and traced the smile lines around his eye with the feather-light pad of her thumb. “You know that I don’t blame you for not being there, and you know that I’ll never judge you for wondering how different things might’ve been if you were.” Her hand repositioned his to cradle the top of her bump where the baby was currently shifting about, and she couldn’t help but smile at the tender look in her husband’s azure eyes when he felt their unborn child’s faint movements. “But can you feel that? The universe gave us a second chance, Steve; the important thing is that you’re here now, being a fantastic father to Carina and doing everything a loving, loyal husband is supposed to do for his pregnant wife, and every single day, I wake up and I thank the universe for giving us this second chance.”

The worry line between his brows smoothed out as his expression relaxed and he moved one of his hands to rest on the side of her neck, softly stroking her jawline with his thumb before asking, “Have I told you how much I love you today?”

“Twice, but I could always use another reminder.”

Steve’s lips quirked upwards in amusement at her words. “I love you, baby, with everything I am and more.”

(Y/N) smiled happily up at him. “And I love you too, sweetheart.” Her eyes fluttered closed as she pulled Steve’s face down and he bent around her to capture her lips in a languid yet passionate kiss.

“Lucky, do you really have to go and invade Indy’s personal space like that? I mean, c’mon, you literally just met the guy and you’re already sniffing his business! Boundaries, dude, c’mon.”

Pulling apart, (Y/N) leaned her forehead against Steve’s and let out a breathless chuckle. “I suppose we should be good hosts and check in with our guests. We’ll continue this later, Mr. Rogers.”

Eyes darkening with desire, Steve smirked and lowered his voice before replying, “I look forward to it, Professor (Y/L/N).”

They both stood up from the couch, with (Y/N) doing her best to mask just how much her husband’s use of her title had affected her and with Steve biting back the knowing smile that threatened to break out across his face, and held each other’s hand while they left the living room and strolled into the dining room; Kate Bishop, sporting fresh facial wounds and damp hair from her quick shower, was finishing up her bowl of Kraft Mac & Cheese at the table and giggling to herself while her Golden Retriever and their German Shepard lounged together on the floor by the food and water bowl. The young archer appeared to be in good spirits, despite her near deadly fight with Kingpin himself and aiding the police in arresting her mother for murder, but (Y/N) knew all too well that her cheerful mood would steadily dissipate once the post-battle adrenaline wore off and the reality of her situation set in.

“Did you want some more mac and cheese, Kate, or anything else to drink?”

Glancing up and over at them, Kate adamantly shook her head and flashed them a bright smile. “I’m good, but thank you so much for the offer! Seriously, you guys have already done so much for me and Lucky; you made us a midnight snack, I got a post-battle shower and a fresh change of clothes, and I even got some Grade-A first aid.” The young archer beamed as she gestured to the bandage that stretched across the bridge of her nose. “I mean, who knew that Steve Rogers was good at first aid? I certainly didn’t! You must’ve learned during the war, right?”

“My mother, actually,” Steve corrected, tucking his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants and giving a surprised Kate an offhand shrug. “I picked a lot of fights with bullies when I was growing up and she was the one who patched me up after each loss.”

“And that never stopped you from confronting the bullies…” Kate looked between them both and shook her head in amazement. “I’m beginning to see why you two get along so well. I, um, I also just want you guys to know that I’m not gonna tell anyone about all this.” Her dark brown eyes met (Y/N)’s, her gaze filled with understanding and an earnest respect. “You were right when you said that there’s things you’ll lose living the life of a superhero; a couple of hours ago, I helped the cops arrest my mom for murder and now I officially have no family. I can’t even imagine the sort of things you two’ve lost along the way, but what you’ve got now? I sure as hell won’t be the one to take this away from you.”

(Y/N) gave the young archer a thankful smile. “We trust you, Kate. And since you’re now privy to some top-secret Avengers intel, I should probably share with you one of the most important lessons I’ve learned as a superhero.” Kate’s brow rose in interest and (Y/N) nodded towards the cluster of framed photographs that were hung above the dining room’s antique sideboard; there was one that showed (Y/N), Steve, Sam and Nat hanging out at a bar, another with (Y/N) and Steve posing next to Tony and Pepper at their engagement party, and one that was taken of the Avengers as they dined on Chinese food takeout and planned their time heist. The last picture was of Sam and Bucky with the Rogers-(Y/L/N) family on the day they broke the news of her second pregnancy to their best friends; Sam was holding Carina on his hip and Bucky tickled her sides to get her to smile for the camera while Steve’s arm was slung around the super-soldier’s shoulders, his other arm wrapped around (Y/N)’s waist and his hand joining hers in cradling her barely-there baby bump. “A family doesn’t always have to be the one you’re born into. Sometimes, it’s something you get to create for yourself.” Kate’s eyes started to prickle with unshed tears, and she immediately began to blink them away and mask her emotional response with a bright smile, which only made (Y/N)’s sympathy for the upset twenty-two-year-old grow. “This little gumball feels a little restless, so I’m gonna make some hot coca. I’d be more than happy to make enough for everyone…”

Steve, instantly catching on to her line of thinking, lifted their joined hands up and gave her knuckles an exaggerated kiss while subtly winking for just her to see. “Mmm, you know how much I love your famous hot coca, sunshine. You use real milk and imported Belgian chocolate, don’t you?”

“Of course, that’s how it becomes so rich and creamy. I even sprinkle a pinch of gingerbread over the whipped cream to give it that seasonal flair.”

“Gosh, I’d just hate for anyone to miss out on the experience of enjoying such a special beverage…”

Watching their staged exchange with a growing smirk, Kate burst into laughter and raised her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, I get the hint! I’d love some of your famous hot coca, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) beamed in triumph, giving Steve a chaste kiss on the cheek before releasing his hand and striding into the kitchen; as she assembled her ingredients and put the saucepan of milk on the stove to boil, she listened in on Kate and Steve’s conversation about archery, smiling to herself as she imagined her husband comforting their own children in a similar manner. Steve often doubted himself as a father, a habit he’d once confessed partially stemmed from never having known his own father, but (Y/N) never once doubted that the man who was patiently listening to an impassioned rant about the possibilities of various trick arrows in combat situations and even injecting his own opinions for Kate’s benefit was meant to be a father.

“Oooo, (Y/L/N)’s famous hot coca!” (Y/N), who was mixing the chocolate into the simmering milk, glanced over to see Clint enter the kitchen; the archer was toweling his hair dry, mindful of the steri-strips and bruises that littered his face, and the sight of his fluffed-up hair and eager grin forced her to stifle her chuckles. “Need any help with that?”

“Not with this, but could you grab some mugs from the cabinet for me?” He did as she asked, setting four mugs down onto the counter and nodding when she murmured her thanks. Seeing that he was preoccupied with examining the ‘America’s Ass’ mug that Scott sent Steve for his birthday, she took the opportunity to inspect his many visible wounds and winced in sympathy. “I’m looking at Yelena’s handiwork, aren’t I?”

Clint huffed out a humorless chuckle and nodded. “Yep. Not my first time having my ass kicked by a Black Widow, but I don’t remember it hurting as much as it does now.” He sobered when he caught sight of her concerned frown, slinging the towel he’d been using over his shoulder and giving hers a reassuring pat. “I got through to her in the end, and that’s all that matters. And for what it’s worth, she only really seemed pissed at me, so it’s safe to say that you and Steve are in the clear.”

Switching the burner off, (Y/N) took the saucepan off the stove and carefully began pouring the liquid into each mug. “I know that she just tried to kill you a couple of hours ago, but I still can’t help but hope that I’ll get the chance to meet Yelena someday. I spoke with Alexei and Melina over FaceTime after the Battle of Earth and I helped them arrange for Nat’s plot in Ohio…”

“But you haven’t been able to pass along the holographic puck she recorded Yelena’s message on,” Clint finished and pursed his lips in contemplation. “You told Alexei and Melina about the puck, right?” (Y/N) nodded as she reached into the refrigerator for a can of whipped cream. “It’s safe to say that before tonight, Yelena wasn’t ready to accept that Nat’s gone, but now? It’s possible that she’ll be ready for some closure, so don’t be surprised when you open your door to see her standing on your porch one day.”

While she added a sizable swirl of whipped cream to each mug of hot coca and finished them off with a sprinkle of gingerbread, (Y/N) smiled to herself and snuck a brief glance at Clint. “You know, Nat told me once that she counted herself lucky to have the three best siblings in the world; I’ll never forget just how happy that made me, because that was around the time I finally decided to go no contact with my family. She was my sister, in every sense of the word.”

“I know how you feel; back before Laura and the kids, Nat was the only family I had.” The archer’s voice cracked but he managed to muster up a reassuring smile for her. “I know that I wasn’t there for her when she needed me and that that’s something I’m gonna have to live with…” He peered out into the nearby dining room and watched Kate enthusiastically mime firing trick arrows as she talked to Steve, his smile softening and his blue-grey eyes filling with parental pride. “But I think that she’d be proud of what I accomplished with Kate.”

(Y/N) leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss onto Clint’s cheek before giving him a smile of understanding. “I think she would, too. Now c’mon, Hawkeye, let’s go deliver a little Christmas cheer and learn about all the possible applications of boomerang arrows before your guys’ ride to JFK gets here.”

Loading the mugs onto a tray, (Y/N) and Clint joined Steve and Kate at the dining room table, where they enjoyed their hot coca and engaged in a lively debate about the sort of trick arrows that the archers believed could work in a battle; (Y/N)’s hand absentmindedly rubbed across her bump as she watched Clint and Kate’s playful argument, her lips curving into an amused grin that only widened when she caught Steve’s azure eyes and he scooted his chair closer to hers so that he could drape an arm over her shoulders. Not quite how I pictured our little Rogers-(Y/L/N) Family Christmas going, she silently admitted to herself as she contently rested her head against her husband’s shoulder, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You still haven’t convinced me that boomerang arrows aren’t an excellent idea, Clint.” Kate stubbornly crossed her arms and turned to (Y/N) and Steve with an expectant look on her face. “Be honest, guys, doesn’t it sound like one of the best ideas you’ve ever heard?”

Ever the diplomat, Steve masked his chuckles with a contemplative hum and shrugged. “I’m not too sure how you’d be able to apply it, but it’s not a half-bad idea.”

Kate fist-pumped the air in triumph while an indignant Clint’s jaw dropped and he whipped his head around to stare at Steve. “Seriously, Rogers? You think it’s a good idea that an arrow should be able to fly back at you after you’ve fired it?”

“To be fair, he never said it was good,” (Y/N) pointed out. “What he said was that it wasn’t a half-bad idea.”

“Thank you, sunshine.” The archer rolled his eyes when Steve leaned over to plant a soft kiss onto her cheek and shot him a mischievous smirk. “All I know is that you could’ve taken out a helluva lot more Chitauri during the Battle of New York if your thirty-two arrows could’ve boomeranged back to you, Barton.”

Kate’s hand quickly moved to clamp over her mouth to muffle her laughter and (Y/N) masked hers with an unconvincing cough as Clint gasped in exaggerated outrage and made a rude hand gesture towards a chuckling Steve. “Damn, Clint, need some aloe for that burn?” Kate snickered and reached across the table to fist-bump Steve. “Thanks for the support, man!” The young archer leapt up from the table and hurried over to the duffel bag she’d deposited in the entryway. “And here, I’ve already thought of how I’d design the arrow!”

“Wait, Kate, you’re gonna trip the-”

“UNAUTHORIZED WEAPONRY DRAWN ON THE PREMISES, MY LORD AND LADY!”

Clint’s hand flew towards his hearing aid and Kate yelped in surprise, poking her head back into the dining room with a shell-shocked expression written across her face. “What the hell was that?!”

With a sigh, (Y/N) set her empty mug down onto her coaster and smiled despite herself. “Brienne.”

“Or as I like to call her, the posthumous revenge of Tony Stark,” Steve added, his own grin dimming a little as a wistful gleam filled his azure eyes. “Wherever he is, he’s gotta be laughing his ass off right now…”

“Language!” (Y/N), Clint and Kate’s exclamation broke the tension and even Steve couldn’t stop himself from laughing along with them.

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

A/N: Only one more chapter left, guys! (And don't worry, we'll soon find out who was watching (Y/N) in the last chapter) Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ziGMhEsAw833GQ9eV44nR?si=6dfead09c76848d5

Hawkeye (Part IV)

Stumblin’ In Book VII: “Superhero Snapshots” Masterlist

Tagging: @mrs-obrien @lahoete @awkward117 @cminr @natdrunk @momc95 @savedbystyle @miraculouscloud @awkwardnesshabitat @marinettepotterandplagg @mangosandmimosas @supersouthy @benakenalove @brooke0297 @hufflepeople @becausewelie @outoftheregular @junipermurdock @ladydmalfoy @mads-weasley @username23345@crist1216 @capswife @lilmschild @avngrsinitiative @crowleysqueenofhell @y-napotat @mary1raven @groovyqueer @ljej95 @innersublimefury @prettysbliss

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ace-of-gay · 2 years

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Unexpected help

Word count: 1152 words

Entire series Warnings: ptsd, panic attacks, angst, mentions of murder, abuse, break ins, blood, knife, flashbacks, trauma, manipulation etc. Reader gets insulted.

Chapter warnings: police, mentions of not being safe, staying at someone else's house, emergency services, bruising, house is trashed from violence etc.

Im being 100% serious if any of this is a trigger for you in any way dont read it, the warning is there for a reason, you are responsible for your media consumption especially when theres a warning.

Edited to the best of my abilities

For any gender, and skincolor

written for reader who is over the age of 18 (not because of smut or anything but because its adults dating adults later on in the series)

Pt.1 series master.

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Tires screeching to a halt, kickstands set, Sam completely forgetting his key in the ignition, running off to where he can hear the shouting coming from, the ruckus of things being bashed against a wall, a slew of degrading, demeaning words spiraling around as though no one else is to exist in this moment, surely your ex could see the repercussions but alas its as though he’s in tunnel vision shrouded of red, caught red handed in this moment right here.

Sam had gotten from the shop to your apartment in less than ten minutes, having taken backroads, speeding well over the limit and blowing through a few stop signs; Sarah had told him about your past relationship with Alec after having to spend frequent nights with you to help with your ptsd and anxiety, he’d met you a few times and you seemed close to Sarah and her boys so when it came down to it a friend of his sisters is a friend of the family.

When he had met you he could see that just under the surface of your rose gold smile, framed of perfection was an agonizingly shaken mind, alert at all times but servicing the general public in ways you neglected to give yourself. No wonder Sarah loves you.

He couldn't imagine just how terrified of your ex you must be so when he’d gotten the call, getting to you was his only priority, misdemeanors can wait.

He didn't come alone; had the urgency not shown in his voice and his face Bucky and Steve would have thought it was just one of those moments where he had needed a break but it was far from that and they could see.

A look in his eyes only be explained when hydra came up in topic, this isn’t something he’s going to alone.

What you felt as seconds were in reality around five minutes, trembling, all your senses have clocked out for the count giving you the best possibility to not feel too much harm but when you realize the vibrations in the floor have stopped and all shadows threatening above you have disappeared you come back enough to open your eyes, in front of you lay Alec passed out cold on the ground, bloody and bruised.

Looking up in confusion to the doorway to find Sarah and Sam along with two other people you didn't know, one of them holding Alec down incase he wakes with the same savagery.

"Oh thank goodness you’re okay Hun, I’m so sorry for not answering your calls" she goes to rush forward to your side but you jolt back against the end of your bed, the blond man placing his hand on her shoulder stopping her.

He’s seen plenty of terrorized looks on peoples faces, and the one on yours was far beyond what he’s seen, it makes sense when Steve finally focuses in on the symbol upon the back of the vest on your unconscious attacker, mood edging with anguish he sees himself in you, he knows what hydra will put people through just to get what they want.

A few minutes of silence later and police finally show up, taking Alec into custody and getting everyone’s perspective, taking extra time and care to talk it over with you, documenting everything from start to finish that you can remember, with your permission they took pictures of property damages and physical bruises and lesions for evidence, asking if you need medical attention which you quickly declined and finally asked if you wanted to press charges which you agreed to immediately.

As you were being led out of your apartment to get a once-over by the medics your neighbor stepped out of her apartment, to check on you she watched as you all three men and Sarah plus a few police officers walk out and down to the parking lot.

It had been recommended that you stay somewhere else while damages like your front door get repaired or replaced.

Another fifteen minutes pass, getting your once-over and filling out a situation report yourself the police finally took Alec and left you to your own devices

"Can I take a moment and pack my overnight stuff alone?" The group agreed and you walked into your apartment grabbing the essentials, pajamas, spare clothes a hoodie, and your comfort item, taking in a moment to assess the damage and threat to your life he had left, stepping out past the officer who was going to stay around until maintenance fixed the main damages.

You had more than half your day left and there was no way you were going into town by yourself today so making a quick email, sending it to your boss and turning your phone completely off; you finally get back to the group where they're discussing arrangements.

"Its not safe for y/n at my place" Sarah states with urgency "Alec's friends know where I live, they've picked y/n up from my place in the past", "not to mention he’s part of hydra, they for sure wont hold back on y/n if they find out Alec is in prison so I’m gonna get me and the boys and go to my cousins"

Looking over at the two men who fair sympathy and kindness in their eyes, even than trusting a man is going to be difficult, as it has been for so long already it is far worse now, but there is nowhere to go but up from here, right, Sarah is there just a drive away if you need anything anyways.

Having dazed off you snap back to reality faced with the potential to accept their hand to their open home, nodding you pull the collar of your shirt, everything feels suffocating right now, Sarah knows them well and if she trusts them surely you can as well.

"Alright, well I’m Bucky and this is Steve if you have any questions for either of us don't be afraid to ask, we are an open book " both men smile, a gleam in Steve’s eyes, you can tell he has hope.

Sarah comes over while Sam gets on his bike to leave, "I’m just a call away, Steve and Bucky also have my number, you’re safe with us" she finally gets a chance to hug you for just a moment before turning "I’ve gotta go to work but please don’t worry about if your bothering anyone, I promise you could never be a bother" watching her walk away you turn to Steve and Bucky, "Sam is going to ride back to the shop and pickup the tow truck to pick up your car so we can get you new tires on it while Bucky drives back to the shop to open up for the day." Steve chimes giving Bucky a pat on the back, and sending him on his way following Sam.

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I cant tell if im delirious right now or not so i might just be tired

This is the last of the prewritten pards now i just have writing notes to start the next two chapters

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becasworldsstuff · 2 months

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BCAS MASTER LIST

Bucky Barnes

Just feel tired : mafia!bucky x reader

Look, like a princess : mafia!daddy!bucky x reader

Stucky ( poly)

Something: mafia!stucky x kidnapped!reader

Colin Bridgerton (lover/bff/sister...)

dearest reader: Colin x reader

Simon Basset (lover/bff/sister..)

You are the love of my life: Simon x fem!reader

Meant to be: Simon x fem!reader

Pogues

The pogues princess: pogues x pogue!reader

Rebekah mikaelson

She's my person: Rebekah x reader

Maddy Perez

Love you doll: Maddy x platonic!reader

#kiara x reader #platonic!reader #pogues x reader #pope x reader #sarah x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes fanfic #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x y/n #bridgerton fanfiction

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justagirlinafandomworld · 1 year

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I want to say a great big THANK YOU to the writers on this list. You are incredible, thank you for sharing your works on this hellsite and sorry this list is being posted on October 31st - months later than your recognition deserves! ❤️

This list is alphabetical by fandom (mostly), then by character. Summaries and warnings are included as provided by the authors.

Read what you like and share what you love!

2022 reading list | fic rec masterlist

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

Marvel

Devour by @cockslutpadalecki

Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes (no Stucky)

A mutual agreement, that’s all it is. An arrangement between friends. Except now that Y/N has acquired quite a taste for them, she doesn’t want anyone else.

Warnings: oral sex (male receiving), deep throating, mentions of female masturbation and mentions of use of a vibrator.

CW!Bucky Drabble by @sweeterthanthis

Bucky Barnes

anon request: kinda wanna blow cw!bucky with 'nothing's gonna hurt you baby' playing in the background then ride the common sense out of him for good measureWarnings: 18+. Smut.

Sway by @indyluckycharlie

Bucky Barnes x Sarah Wilson

Sarah agrees to be Bucky’s plus one, but she’s not interested in being anything more than friends. Right?Warnings: fluff

Star Trek 2009

Three Things by @imamotherfuckingstar-lord

Jim Kirk x Reader

Your friend asks what are the three things you look for in a man.

Warnings: none provided

Supernatural

From the Pits of Hell by @fluffiest-dreams

Sam Winchester x Female Reader

Prompt from: I'll Be by Edwin McCain

Warnings: none provided

(Don't) Wake Me Up by @fluffiest-dreams

Castiel x Female Reader

A morning with Cas.

Warnings: none provided

Game Night by @evergreencowboy

dom!Dean Winchester x sub!Reader

You decide to send Dean a few dirty texts while at game night with all your closest friends… it doesn’t go as planned.

Warnings: sexting… a whole lot of it, exhibitionism if you squint I guess, mentions of sex, a BJ, and masturbation, sir kink, swearing, there’s no actual smut in this really

The Lip Bite Thing by @evansrogerskitten

Dean Winchester x Reader

His damn lip bite makes you crazy.Warnings: Dean being sexy af. Sexual tension, kissing, implied smut.

Best Laid Plans - Chapter 10 - The Final Chapter by @thinkinghardhardlythinking

Jensen Ackles x Female Reader

Wedding planner rom-com fic but Jensen is our leading man. Y/N is a wedding planner, hired to plan the wedding of the mean girl bully that made her life hell back at school. But who’s that guy over there, in the Impala from that show she likes?Warnings: Fluffy fluffiness

The Sacrifice by @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior

Dean Winchester x Y/N

I swear, if you could see him, you'd get it.Warnings: None. Pure fluff, except for the painful torture of a Chevy Sonic.

Top Gun: Maverick

Just a Memory by @writercole

Rooster Bradshaw

Being called back to Top Gun wasn’t something that Rooster Bradshaw expected. What he expected even less was what awaited him the night he got in.

Warnings: Angst

Under the Radar Series by @princessmisery666

Lieutenant Jake “Hangman” Seresin, Lieutenant Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw, fem!reader (You. Call sign: Huntress)

Being a navy pilot you expected to have your world turned upside down from time to time. Taking to the skies was the easy part, the lessons you learn on solid ground are the hardest.Warnings: angst, fluff, soft Jake, jealousy, asshole Jake, break-ups, cheating (reader is the other woman but doesn’t know until after), preludes to smut, heartbreak, Rooster is a bit of an ass in parts, fluffy Rooster. Parts 3 & 4 include spoilersfor Top Gun: Maverick.

Happy Reading!

#just a girl reading fics in July 2022 #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x sarah wilson #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #castiel x reader #jim kirk x reader #rooster bradshaw x reader #jake seresin x reader

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silver-pieces · 2 years

Text

sarah wilson masterlist

All Sarah Wilson fanfics. 18+ only.

Divider ❊ Guidelines ❊ Masterlist ❊ Taglist

Oneshots & Drabbles

My Best Friend’s Sister - 17/05/22 ~ You’re best friends with Sam, so despite your growing attraction to his sister, there’s nothing you can do about it. (Sarah Wilson x gn!reader)

#sarah wilson #sarah wilson x reader #sarah wilson x you #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel x you #wlw #lesbian #bisexual

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adorecline · 10 months

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Okay, since y'all are more active on here than the people on wattpad ( thank you this makes me so happy ) i'm gonna start writing more on here.

send in requests!! i'm on summer break so i have all the time in the world lol. i'm gonna put a list of all the people i'm writing for! ( i have a bunch of stuff for my karjenner!readers too )

MISC.

Whiskey ( Glass Onion )

Emily ( What Breaks The Ice )

Sam ( Blockers )

Frankie ( The Craft: Legacy )

Shannon ( Fam )

Tara ( The Inhabitant )

THE SOCIETY

Becca Gelb

Elle Tomkins

Allie Pressman

GOSSIP GIRL

Blair Waldorf

Serena van der Woodsen

GREYS ANATOMY

Jo Wilson

Maggie Pierce

Cristina Yang

OUTER BANKS

Sarah Cameron

CELEBRITIES

Gideon Adlon

Madelyn Cline

Odessa A'zion

Leighton Meester

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tllgrrl · 5 months

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Halfway There by @a-hopeful-romantic-blog (aka @ Abraxas on AO3)

The writer has revisited a few of their fics and has read them, Radio Play/Audiobook style.

If you haven’t heard fics in an audiobook version, you’re in for a treat.

Posted on AO3 and Soundcloud under the name Abraxas.

#sarah wilson #bucky barnes #sarahbucky #buckysarah #radio drama #audiobook #writer reader #fanfic recs #fan fiction #fleur de louve #fleurdelouve #podfic #sarah wilson x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x sarah wilson #sarah x bucky #bucky x sarah #by a-hopeful-romantic-blog #sarafbucky fanfiction

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queen-of-the-avengers · 6 months

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Not Allowed

Pairing: Cop!Bucky Barnes x Receptionist!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: bad date angst, jealous bucky

Summary: You and Bucky always flirt with each other while at work but it never goes anywhere like you'd hope. You accept a date with another man, causing Bucky to be jealous. He's a cop who is jealous. Nothing will go wrong, right?

Squares Filled: kink: pet names (2021) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

You walk through the double doors with a smile on your face because today is another day. You’re alive and that’s the best kind of day. You work for the local police department as their receptionist. You’re the first thing people see when they come in so you have to be on your best behavior.

You set your things down on your desk and quickly get settled in. Besides the Captain, you’re the first one in the building. Every officer that comes in, you greet them with a smile as you log into your computer.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Officer Wilson says when he comes in. He always calls you that since he's often told you how he thinks of you like a little sister. “How was your weekend?”

“Too short,” you chuckle. “Did Sarah get into that college?”

“Yeah, she got the acceptance letter yesterday.”

“Oh, I’m so happy for her!” you grin.

“Yeah, I’ll tell her to give you a call.”

Sam taps your desk twice and leaves to go to his own. A few more officers come in until the one you’ve been waiting for walks in confidently. Your heart starts to race because you have a huge crush on him. He kind of knows it but doesn't outright call you out on it.

“There she is,” Bucky smiles and leans on your desk.

“Officer Barnes, it’s good to see you.”

“Doll, you know you can call me Bucky.”

He knows exactly what those pet names do to you. After a night of drinking together, you let it slip that your kink is pet names, and doll happened to be your favorite. Like him, you won’t call him out on it.

“I know. How was your weekend?”

“Better if you were there with me,” he flirts.

“Oh, Bucky,” you chuckle nervously. “You don’t mean that.”

“Yeah, I do. I was wishing, ‘Man, don’t I wish Y/N was here with me? I guess I have to drink alone’.”

“You know what alcohol does to me.”

“Yeah, I do,” he smirks. “You look cute today. That dress compliments you.”

“A compliment. I might swoon,” you joke even though your cheeks are hot.

“As long as it’s in my arms, I don’t care.”

“Don’t you have a job to get to, Officer Barnes?”

“Yeah, but I’d rather stay here and talk to you.”

“You might get fired.”

“It’s worth it,” he winks. “Here’s your coffee.”

He sets your favorite coffee order next to your keyboard and walks away. That’s the extent of your relationship with Bucky. You two flirt constantly but nothing ever comes of it. It’s comfortable. Why leave something when you’re comfortable being there? Do you wish you were something more? Of course. Do you think he’s going to man up and take it to that next level? Not unless something threatening happened like him realizing if he doesn’t do it soon, he’d lose you.

Some of what your work includes is printing off documents for the other officers, inputting things into evidence before they get shipped off there, and sorting through the files regarding the people they have locked up in the holding cells or interrogation rooms. You already have a list of things to print out and file, but you look for Bucky’s name first.

After printing off what he needs, you get up and personally hand this to him. There is a mailbox for the officers that you’re supposed to put in, but you like visiting his desk. He has a picture of you and him printed out and placed next to his computer that you look at every time you visit.

“Here are the papers you asked for,” you smile.

“Thanks, doll,” he grins and grabs them from you, intentionally brushing his fingers against yours.

You go back to your desk to finish your work, and you come across two people who need stuff put into evidence. One of them sent it over a couple of hours ago, and the other one is from Bucky. You immediately click on his name to get what he needs first before looking at the other one.

“Now that is bullshit,” you hear from behind you.

You jump and turn to see Sam standing there with a half-smile on his face.

“What are you doing? You scared me!”

“I sent you evidence hours ago and Bucky sent you it just now, and he’s the one you pick first?”

“I--”

You don’t have any words for that.

“When are you two gonna fuck?”

“Sam Wilson!” you gasp.

“What? It’s a valid question. I should ask him that.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“I’m rooting for you two no matter how painful the slow burn is,” he chuckles and walks away.

It takes half an hour to get the idea of you and Bucky fucking for you to do your job right. Once you’re in the groove of things, the door opens and an attractive man walks in.

“Can I help you?” you ask with a smile.

“Yeah, I’m here for my brother. He’s in lock up.”

“Okay, what’s his name and date of birth?”

“James Farley. 04/05/1986.”

“Your name?”

“Brandon Farley.”

“Okay, I see your brother here. It looks like--”

“I’m sorry, but I have to tell you how beautiful you are.”

“Oh, thank you,” you blush.

“Are you seeing anyone?”

“No, but--”

“Great. Can I take you out?”

“You can see how this is inappropriate, right?”

“Yeah, but you like it,” he grins. “So, can I take you out?”

There’s a certain charm about him that you find endearing maybe because he reminds you of Bucky. Being put on the spot like that is enough to make you freeze up, so you say the one thing that won’t cause conflict.

“Yes.”

“Here’s my number.”

He grabs your hand and writes his number on it so that it won’t come off with one scrub.

“I have sticky notes!”

“This is better. Now you won’t lose it.”

“Go take a seat. Someone will be with you shortly to bring you to your brother.”

“Thanks,” he winks and walks to the waiting room.

You’re about to get up and wash off the number when you notice Bucky standing in the doorway that leads into the precinct.

“Did I hear that right?”

“What?”

“You have a date?”

“Yeah, he asked me out,” you stutter. Bucky looks pissed as if you just told him you killed someone. “Why do you look angry?”

“Nothing. No reason.”

Bucky walks off angrily leaving you confused. He avoids you like the plague for the rest of the day. He isn’t at his desk when you drop off paperwork, and he’s not there to walk you to your car when you get off. He’s supposed to get off an hour before you do, but he stays after not on the clock to make sure you get to your car safely.

This time, he didn’t.

The next day, Bucky is already at work when you arrive. There is no coffee on your desk, either, and you’re feeling guilty for accepting a date with someone else. Is that why he’s acting this way? Sam walks in drinking an energy drink when you stop him.

“Hey, what’s going on with Bucky?”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No, what did I do?”

“You accepted a date from someone else.”

You knew it. Why is he bigging out?

“So?”

“Have you not been here for the past two years? You two flirt like crazy.”

“No, he’s just being friendly.”

“You won’t get it until you do,” Sam shakes his head and walks off.

The date with Brandon comes sooner than you hoped. He picks you up in a fancy car and takes you to a fancy restaurant that you could never afford. He smooth-talks the hostess to get him a table by the window so he can have a view while he eats. The waitress brings by a drinks menu but he already orders what you two are going to drink.

“Trust me, you’re going to love this,” he winks at you.

“Okay,” you say and fiddle with your fingers underneath the table. “You know what I do for work. What do you do for work?”

You shouldn’t have asked him that.

“I work in the telecommunications sector. You know that big building in the city? That’s mine. It’s funny. I got all my parents’ money when they died and instead of using that money for myself, I decided to invest in a small company that turned out to give me millions.” You open your mouth to speak but he continues talking. “Can you imagine that? This small company that wasn’t going to go anywhere if it weren't for me. I’m like their hero. They eventually sold their part to me, and I’ve been thriving ever since.”

Once he got to talking about his job, he hasn’t shut up about it since. He’s very arrogant and rude but that doesn’t seem to stop him. As soon as the drinks come, you greedily take yours and down it without caring what it is.

“Whoa, doll, calm down. I don’t need to haul you to the car at the end of the night. You should pace yourself.”

No one can call me that but Bucky. Oh, Bucky. You shouldn’t have said yes to this man. He only asked you out to hear himself talk. You want this date to end so you pretend to be interested in what he has to say. Even when the date is over and he’s driving you home, he won’t shut up. His voice mixed with alcohol is starting to make your head throb.

About halfway to your house, you see red and blue lights behind you.

This better not be him, you think to yourself. Brandon pulls the car over obediently and waits for the officer to approach him. You look through the mirror to see the outline of the officer and recognize it immediately. He better not. I swear to God… Instead of walking to the driver’s side door, Bucky walks over to your door and leans down so only you can see him.

“Step out of the vehicle, please.”

“No.”

Bucky takes a deep breath to calm himself down. He leans in so close that you can smell his delicious cologne. That makes your head spin.

“I’ll repeat myself. Step out of the car.”

“Or what? You’re gonna drag me out?”

“Don’t tempt me, doll,” he says so only you can hear it.

“Is there a problem, Officer?” Brandon asks.

“Yes. You have a busted taillight.”

“Fuck! You’ve got to be joking, sir.”

“No, sir, I’m not.”

“Shit. Officer, I can promise you I keep this car in the utmost pristine condition.”

“Not today, buddy. That’s a ticket.”

Bucky takes out his pad and writes Brandon a hefty ticket for a broken taillight you’re not sure is even broken.

“Fuck!” Brandon turns to you without guilt on his face. “Look, do you mind if I drop you off right here? Your house is only down the road. You can get there from here, right?”

Your mouth drops open in shock.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take her home,” Bucky offers.

“Thank you. I’ll call you.”

You don’t say anything as you get out of the car. Bucky walks you to the passenger side of his cruiser. You look at the taillights of Brandon’s car and notice they’re both working properly.

“What the fuck, Bucky?” you yell when he gets in the driver’s seat. “His taillights are broken! You can’t just do that. That’s illegal!”

“He’ll fight against it, and I’ll drop the charges,” he shrugs.

“You’re un-fucking-believable. We were actually having a good time,” you lie.

“No, you weren't,” he laughs.

“How do you know that?”

“It’s written all over your face. Your eyes don’t have the usual light.” Bucky pulls onto the road and heads in the direction of your house. “I don’t know why you would accept the date in the first place.”

“Because at least he had the fucking balls to ask me.”

That puts the entire car ride into a tense silence. He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the ride home. He pulls up to your place but instead of letting you get out first, he gets out and walks over to your side of the car. He opens the door but doesn't let you leave the car. He leans into the car, grabs your chin, and kisses you. You’re shocked but you won’t pull away from him. Both your lips move in harmony against one another, and he slides his tongue into your mouth to show you he means business.

“You’re not allowed to see other men.”

“Why not?” you ask, breathlessly.

“Because you’re mine now and I’m not gonna let you go.” This brings a smile to your face. He lets you get out, and when you pass by him, he taps your ass lightly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Doll.”

Yes, you will.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #marvel fan fiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fan fic #mcu #marvel fluff #mcu fanfiction #marvel fiction

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fromasgardandback · 10 months

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𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

One Shots and Headcanons

My one shots and asks of Marvel, Stranger Things, & Star Wars

25 Days of Christmas

Marvel’s 25 Days of Christmas stories ♥️ 2021 Eddie Munson’s 25 Days of Christmas drabbles ♥️ 2022

MARVEL

Bucky Barnes

✩ 1940′s

✩ Let Me Help You

Sam Wilson

✩ No Regrets, No Regrets [II]

Tony Stark

✩ Please Don’t Leave Me [Father!Stark x Daughter!Reader]

Loki Laufeyson

✩ Goddess Divine

✩ Beloved

✩ My Saving Grace

Marc Spector / Steven Grant / Jake Lockley

✩ Khonshu’s Next Victim [M]

STRANGER THINGS

Eddie Munson

✩ Two Punks In Love

✩ My Brother’s Best Friend

✩ The Dungeon Master and the Theater Nerd

✩ Romeo & Juliet

✩ Amoureuse Means Sweetheart

✩ The Hidden Wheeler

✩ Automotive Plant’s Secretary

✩ Rocker Mayfield - Part I

Steve Harrington

✩ Let Me Show You

✩ Home Remedy 🌴

STAR WARS

Anakin Skywalker

✩ My Promise To You

✩ My Promise To You II

Obi-Wan Kenobi

✩ Our Routine on Tatooine

ONE CHICAGO (closed)

✩ Detective Halstead’s Girl

✩ My Other Half

✩ The Other Ruzek Kid [1], The Other Ruzek Kid [2]

✩ Welcome Back, Peter Mills

✩ Donor 1128 [Daughter]

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swan-of-sunrise · 1 year

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The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (Part III)

Summary: (Y/N) takes a trip down to Delacroix to check in on Sam days after the international incident in Latvia, and their joined by an unexpected but welcomed guest.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings/Disclaimers: Disclaimer for a frank discussion of racism/bigotry

A/N: We’re in Delacroix for this chapter, so be prepared for lots of Sam and Bucky shenanigans! Thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (Part III) May 2024 Delacroix, Louisiana (Previous Chapter)

The first time (Y/N) had ever visited Delacroix, she was a down-on-her-luck twenty-six year old on the brink of spending yet another Thanksgiving by herself; her relationship with her parents was strained – it always had been, if she were being honest, but that year stood out as being particularly bad – and not even her brother’s pleas for peace could make both sides forgive and forget for the sake of the holidays. Her co-worker down at the VA and new roommate Sam kindly extended her an invitation to spend Thanksgiving in Louisiana with his family and town and after many assurances that she wouldn’t be a burden to them, she finally agreed. True to Sam’s word, his family and the entire small community of Delacroix welcomed her with open arms, and (Y/N) experienced the best Thanksgiving all because of their kindness and selfless generosity. Because of her flourishing career and various superhero-related incidents, she wasn’t able to visit as often as she wanted to since then but in the years following the Snap, she made it a point to regularly check in on Sarah Wilson and her two boys; she owed it to Sam’s memory to ensure that his family was doing okay after he Vanished and in the wake of losing her own daughter, it felt good to know that her emotional support was helping Sarah to take care of AJ and Cass.

“…shocking testimony on Capitol Hill ended with Walker being formally discharged from the Army and stripped of both his military rank and the title of Captain America. The ruling comes as the result of Walker’s shocking murder of an unnamed and unarmed member of the Flag Smashers on the streets of Riga, Latvia, recorded by several witnesses and posted onto social media for the world to see. According to several attendees within the closed hearing, Walker entered into a heated debate with one of the Congressional members when he attempted to cite his partner Lemar Hoskins’ tragic death to rationalize his unjustified actions and blamed the government for shaping his beliefs, but the council did not rescind their decision. No word yet on if Walker has surrendered the shield-”

(Y/N) switched her rental car’s radio to a grainy station playing Zydeco and sighed in irritation. “Nice to hear that the government’s taking responsibility for their own dumb-ass actions…”

Two days earlier, (Y/N) and Steve switched on WHiH just as the news broke and watched the uncensored video of Walker’s unprovoked actions in absolute horror. They kept calling Sam and didn’t stop until he finally picked up the phone and assured them that he and Bucky were safe, and then he explained how Walker got his hands on the Flag Smasher’s stolen super-soldier serum; he went on to tell them that he and Bucky confronted Walker after the murder and forcibly took the shield away from him, and he informed them that because the government stepped in they were benched until further notice. Six hours later, Sarah called and asked (Y/N) to come down to Delacroix out of concern for her brother’s mental health; after a brief discussion with Steve and ensuring that her husband, her daughter and their dog would be safe while she was gone, (Y/N) booked the first available flight to New Orleans.

When she finally reached the Wilson’s house, she parked behind Sam’s truck and pulled her duffel bag out of the trunk before heading up the driveway. She smiled when she saw her best friend repairing a fishing net alongside his nephews and their mother tuning up some equipment at the porch’s small table, and she called out, “Looks like Uncle Sam roped you guys into doing his chores again!”

“Auntie (Y/N)!” AJ and Cass exclaimed, jumping down from the porch and running across the lawn to give her hugs; she laughed and hugged both boys back as Sam and Sarah made their way over to them. “I got an A- on my English report!”

“And I won my class Spelling Bee!” AJ excitedly added.

“Good job, guys! I guess we’ll have to celebrate with the sweet treats I brought and some video games later, huh?” (Y/N) asked and glanced up at the older woman while the two boys did a celebratory dance. “If it’s okay with your mom, of course.”

Sarah smiled and nodded. “As long as you two make your beds before the school bus gets here and stick to your bedtime tonight, then it’s all right with me.” Both AJ and Cass ran back into the house to complete their chores and the two women shared a tight hug. “Thank you for comin’ so quickly, (Y/N),” She murmured before pulling away and gesturing towards the house. “I’ve gotta start packing their lunches, so I’ll let Sam show you to your room.”

Her best friend shot his sister a suspicious look that went ignored as she passed by and he shook his head in disbelief. “She’s a very sneaky person.”

“No, she’s a Wilson,” (Y/N) corrected, giving him a smile and wrapping her arms around him. “She knows when people need help and does whatever she can to get it to them, just like you.” Sam sighed and slowly relaxed into her embrace. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, but maybe later.” He pulled away and mustered up a smile for her benefit as he took her duffel bag from her and slung it over his own shoulder. “I guess I know why Sarah was changing the sheets in the guest bedroom last night. C’mon, Booksmart, we’ll get you settled and I’ll fix you up some breakfast.”

After (Y/N) freshened up and changed into clothing more suitable for the humidity of Louisiana, she came downstairs and sat at the kitchen counter eating the scrambled eggs and toast Sam cooked while the Wilson siblings discussed the ongoing issues concerning their family’s boat.

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“I didn’t wanna tell you last night when you were lookin’ all sad puppy dog in the rain,” Sarah patiently explained as she finished packing her sons’ lunches. “That’s why I gave (Y/N) a call.”

Sam sighed. “It was a rough day.”

His sister glanced away from the brown paper bags she was filling to look over at him. “You mean with Isaiah Bradley?”

“And what they did to him.”

Sarah exchanged a brief glance with (Y/N). “You wanna talk about it?”

“No,” Sam replied, his thumb thoughtfully stroking the rim of his coffee mug while he looked down. “I’m trying to figure out what it all means.”

“Okay, well, we’re both here for you…but as far as the boat is concerned, bottom line is that Mr. Dinh backed out.” Sarah pulled two Tupperware containers out of the refrigerator and packed them into bags. “I don’t know what to do; parts alone on that thing are gonna eat up most of what we get back.”

“Listen to me: don’t worry. I’m gonna fix the boat.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be off saving the world?” Sarah demanded while Sam rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Why are you back here bothering me?”

He took a seat at the kitchen counter beside (Y/N) and replied, “‘Cause my family’s well-being is a part of the world.”

(Y/N) arched a knowing brow at her best friend. “So, you’re waiting for a lead?”

“…And the government stepped in and took control and kind of benched us…”

Both Sarah and (Y/N) chuckled and when AJ and Cass entered the kitchen with their backpacks, Sarah handed out their lunches and passed two extra bags over to Cass. “Please make sure Bennett and Elling each get one. Okay?”

“Okay!”

“All right.” Sarah gave her sons a bright smile as they headed out the back door. “Bye.”

“Have a good day at school, guys,” Sam added with a small wave.

“See you later, alligators!” (Y/N) called after them and once the screen door closed behind them, her smile faltered and she looked up at Sarah. “Bennett and Elling?”

The older woman nodded. “Bennett and Elling’s dad cannot get up before noon. Kids keep showin’ up hungry but are too proud to ask for any help.”

(Y/N)’s heart clenched in sympathy for both boys while Sam gave his sister a proud smile. “And you’re like Mom, feeding every kid in the neighborhood.” A strange expression suddenly crossed his features and before either woman could question him, he asked, “How many people still owe Mom and Dad something?”

“All of them. All that’s left, for sure.”

A smile slowly spread across (Y/N)’s face as she realized Sam’s idea. “In that case, it might be time for you two to call in a few favors…”

Sam reached into one of the kitchen cabinets and pulled out their address book. “I’m gonna fix this damn boat.”

He left the kitchen in a hurry and while he started making phone calls from the other room, Sarah shook her head and smiled. “A real man of action. I still don’t know how you lived with him all that time in D.C. without goin’ crazy.”

“It’s probably because I counteracted his unique brand of crazy with my own.” (Y/N) took her empty dishes to the kitchen sink and went about washing them as she continued. “If fixing up the boat helps get his mind off everything he’s been through these past few weeks, then I’m all for it; let him channel all those feelings into something productive instead of letting them boil up inside of him.”

“The only problem with that is that until he’s ready to face those feelings, he’s gonna get in my way and mess around with things he knows he doesn’t understand.”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Well, that’s when you fight dirty and just push him off the side of the boat.”

Sarah laughed and as both women chatted while they worked on packing up lunch orders for Wilson Family Seafood, (Y/N) was pleased to see the stress momentarily leave the older woman’s eyes.

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

The next day, (Y/N) joined the Wilson siblings and over half of Delacroix at the docks to help them repair Paul & Darlene; Sam had gone through his family’s entire address book and spent the day calling in each and every favor that he could, but even he seemed a little taken aback by how much of his community showed out to assist him and his sister in their time of need.

“Thank you so much for coming, Ms. Paddy,” (Y/N) smiled at the older woman standing before her and gestured towards the fold-out table further down the pier. “There’s coffee and fresh-baked banana bread for volunteers, and Sarah’s around here somewhere with a list of jobs and tasks that need to get done.”

“I’ll do anythin’, so long as it helps out those Wilson kids. Their mama and daddy did so much for this community before they passed, you know, and all while raisin’ themselves a couple of angels.” Ms. Paddy returned her smile with one of her own and patted her arm. “It was good seein’ you again, sugar. You give that husband and sweet baby of yours my best, you hear?”

After (Y/N) assured her that she would and she left to find Sarah amongst the crowd of volunteers, she headed over to where Sam stood beside a group of fishermen and their truck. “Check it out, Booksmart!” Sam excitedly wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pointed at the wrapped machinery sitting in the truck bed. “Carlos and Tommy here brought a new diesel engine for us!”

“Sam, that’s amazing!” (Y/N) gave her best friend a hug before turning to the pair of fishermen. “Thank you guys so much!”

Carlos chuckled and tucked his hands into his pockets. “Hey, look, word goes out the Wilson family needs help? Well, we got a bit of usefulness in us.”

Sam beamed in happiness. “How do we get it off the truck?”

Before any of them could answer, the engine was easily lifted out of the truck bed and placed on the pier by none other than Bucky; the super-soldier dusted off his hands and adjusted the black glove he wore, seemingly unaware of the fishermen gaping in awe after witnessing him single-handedly lift a two-thousand pound piece of machinery. “You’re welcome.”

As the fishermen moved to help unload another truck, Sam shot (Y/N) a questioning look and she raised her hands in defense. “Don’t look at me, Birdbrain, I didn’t call him.” They both approached the bed of the truck as Bucky placed a sizable case onto the tailgate. “So, what brings you down to Delacroix, Bucky?”

“Just dropping this off. You can sign for it and I’ll go.” He patted the top of the case. “I called in a favor from the Wakandans.”

Sam exchanged a look with (Y/N), but the tell-tale sound of a burst pipe interrupted whatever he was going to say. “Sam!”

The three of them turned to see Sarah pointing to a pipe onboard the boat spewing concentrated steam into the air; Sam jogged over and boarded the boat, reaching for a wrench to try and tighten the pipe’s loose bolt but unable to see through the thick steam. With an exasperated sigh, Bucky followed after him and climbed over the edge, but not before giving Sarah a small wave. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Sarah replied with an uncharacteristically bashful smile that quickly dropped when she caught sight of the knowing smirk on (Y/N)’s face.

“Hold on, hold on…” Bucky guided Sam out of the way and took the wrench from him. “You gotta go up!”

The super-soldier succeeded in tightening the bolt and stopping the leak, and Sam stared at the pipe as he tossed the wrench down onto the open toolbox. “Why didn’t you use the metal arm?”

“Well…I don’t always think of it immediately. I’m right-handed.” Sam chuckled at that while Bucky took in their surroundings. “So, this is the boat, huh?”

“This is it.”

“It’s nice.” Bucky shuffled his feet and took a deep breath before asking, “You want any help?” (Y/N) smiled to herself when Sam gave him a relenting nod and led him towards the boat’s cockpit, and she made herself appear busy winding ropes when the super-soldier stopped to check Sarah out. “I’m Bucky.”

Sarah looked up from her clipboard and clutched it against her chest as she sweetly smiled at him. “Sarah.”

“Sarah…” Bucky tested out her name with a flirtatious grin on his lips and (Y/N) was forced to bite her lip to keep from laughing when she caught sight of Sam’s less-than-pleased expression.

When both men disappeared into the pilothouse, (Y/N) whistled low and giggled at the older woman’s flustered state. “Mm-hmm, it’s that Brooklyn charm, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“C’mon, Sarah, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you! He may be an old-fashioned gentleman but those big, bright, beautiful blue eyes were most definitely staring right at your-”

Sarah lightly smacked (Y/N)’s arm with her clipboard while (Y/N) laughed and followed after the two men. After doing away with his jacket and the glove he used to cover his vibranium hand, Bucky went to work helping (Y/N) sand the deck and scrape wood rot off the boat’s wooden surfaces; the super-soldier was a good working buddy, although she caught him distractedly practicing knife flips with the tools on more than one occasion, and he still managed to get on Sam’s nerves by using his enhanced strength and vibranium arm to easily complete his own tasks, which was to remove the rusted rail shear-line and repair the old wiring. While they worked, both men unconsciously relied on (Y/N) to ease the awkwardness born in the wake of their short time in Riga and while it felt a little like babysitting at times, she was just glad that they weren’t at each other’s throats anymore.

“You know, I never really saw the appeal of drinking beer after a long day of work…” (Y/N) took another sip of her beer and sighed as she rested her head against Sam’s arm. “But goddamn if this isn’t the best way to unwind.”

Sam hummed in agreement, but most of his attention was focused on the large metal case they’d brought onto the boat; they both suspected what its contents were and while (Y/N) thought it was wonderful that the Wakandans had made him new wings and a suit to match, she could see that Sam was still conflicted about taking the mantle of Captain America. Their focus was drawn away from the case when Bucky heaved a sigh and got to his feet.

“Well, gotta catch my flight tomorrow.” The super-soldier downed the last of his beer and set the empty bottle down onto the deck. “Get a hotel room for the night. Crash, you know? Then, I’ll have to get a ride to the airport…”

Sam snorted in amusement. “You’re just gonna set me up like that, huh?”

Shrugging noncommittally, Bucky tossed his jacket over his arm and gestured towards the dock. “I don’t wanna make it weird for your family.”

“Just stay here,” Sam insisted and (Y/N) hid her surprise as she finished off her own beer. “The people in this town are the most welcoming people in the world. They don’t care if you wear small t-shirts or if you have six toes or if your mom’s your aunt.”

Bucky chuckled. “Okay, I get it. I mean, you know, the people are nice.”

“But don’t flirt with my sister.”

“No.”

“’Cause if you do, I’ll have Carlos cut you up and feed you to the fish.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and set her empty beer bottle down as she stood. “You’d better not let Sarah hear you talk like that, Birdbrain; I hear she’s got a mean right hook.” After giving her grumbling best friend a pat on the shoulder, she looped her arm around Bucky’s and led him back up onto the dock. “C’mon, we’ll take my rental and get you settled up at the house. We’re having Sarah’s homemade jambalaya for dinner, so I hope you brought your appetite with you.”

“Sounds delicious.” Bucky bit his lip and tried not to smile as he continued. “So, Sarah seems pretty nice…”

“She is. She’s smart, she’s funny, she’s a damn good businesswoman and an even better mother…and she may or may not have a secret thing for one hundred and six-year-old super-soldiers.” (Y/N) grinned at the blush beginning to color Bucky’s cheeks.

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

After a delicious dinner of homemade jambalaya with cornbread and a laughter-filled evening in which (Y/N) unsuccessfully attempted to teach AJ and Cass how to dance the Lindy Hop, everyone decided to call it a night and head off to bed. A brief text from Sam cut (Y/N)’s bedtime skincare routine short and she crept across the hall to his room, where he was sitting up against his headboard and staring unseeingly up at the ceiling; he asked her if they could talk about Isaiah Bradley and the shield and when she readily agreed, he waited for her to make herself comfortable on the comforter across from him before finally opening up to her.

Isaiah Bradley, an African-American soldier who enlisted in the Army just as the Cold War was beginning to take form, was one of hundreds of Black servicemen to be unknowingly turned into test subjects and experimented on with various recreations of Doctor Erskine’s super-soldier serum; the men were told that they were being administered tetanus shots and when it became apparent that the version administered to Isaiah was the most successful, an entire troop of Black soldiers was given the same version and sent out on dangerous combat missions as the Korean War raged on. While operating in Korea on Hydra’s behalf, Bucky first encountered Isaiah at a bar in Goyang in 1951 and their vicious fight led to Hydra considering Isaiah to be one of their most dangerous threats.

“God, it’s just like the Tuskegee Study.” (Y/N)’s stomach churned in horror as Sam silently nodded. “In 1943, Steve volunteered to be one of the SSR’s lab rats and he knew all the possible risks of receiving the serum. But those poor men…”

“If you think that’s bad, just wait until you hear what happened next.”

Around that same time, the other men in Isaiah’s troop had been weakened by the supposed successful super-soldier serum and were soon captured by enemy forces. The Army was planning on authorizing an Air Force strike on the POW camp in order to hide the ample evidence of illegal experimentation and the attempted recreation of Doctor Erskine’s lost work but when Isaiah caught wind of their plans, he single-handedly infiltrated and liberated the camp. He brought every single one of his fellow soldiers back to their base, but the imperfect serum running through their veins began killing them off one by one and for disobeying direct orders, Isaiah was imprisoned for thirty years.

“Steve once disobeyed orders and liberated almost four hundred men from one of Hydra’s POW camps, and they tried to award him a Medal of Valor.” She swallowed the lump in her throat and tightened her arms around her knees as she struggled to keep her anger in check. “The Army might not have gone through with their planned airstrike, but they killed those innocent men all the same. And they didn’t just lock Isaiah up for disobeying orders, those bastards locked him up to keep their illegal experimentation going. That’s what happened to him, isn’t it? They kept experimenting on him for those thirty years?”

“Not just the Army. No, the CIA and even Hydra took samples of his blood to try and replicate the super-soldier serum.”

During his incarceration, Isaiah wrote letters to his wife Faith but his captors never sent them and they even withheld the letters she’d written to him; she’d apparently been told that he was still fighting in Korea and once the conflict was drawing to a close, she was incorrectly informed that Isaiah had been killed in action. Faith passed away while Isaiah was imprisoned but in the 1980’s, a nurse took pity on Isaiah and faked his death, helping him escape the facility he’d been kept in and even gifting him all of the letters they’d withheld. He relocated to Baltimore and lived in anonymity, raising his grandson Eli and mourning the life that had been taken away from him by those who refused to accept a that there could ever be a Black Captain America.

(Y/N) was struggling to hold back her tears by the time Sam finished his story and when she spotted the grief in his reddened eyes, she wordlessly scooted across the bed and wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace. She always thought that she had a handle on the many atrocities of America’s past, but then she’d find herself learning about yet another barbaric incident and go right back to square one; it’s no wonder Isaiah became embittered and pessimistic about what the shield represents, she thought as she buried her face in the crook of Sam’s neck, his life has been nothing short of a nightmare because of it.

“He said that he didn’t want his story to be told to the world because he’s afraid of how people will react but (Y/N), we’ve gotta tell his story. He and every one of those Black men who died so that the government could try to recreate that goddamn serum…they all deserve to have their stories told, and this country needs to be held responsible for what it did to them.” Sam pulled away to look at her, his brown eyes still tinged with red but filled with a newfound determination. “And I’ve got a few ideas about how to do it. How much goodwill do you think you have with the Smithsonian?”

A smile slowly started to spread across her face at her best friend’s implication. “Enough for me to convince them to add an entire room to their Captain America exhibit. Just give me a week so that I can write up everything you told me and make a phone call to Rhodey; if the Air Force was involved like Isaiah said they were, then he might be able to find some buried files we can use to corroborate Isaiah’s story. Once everything’s squared away with the directors of the Air and Space Museum, I can have Greg get me into contact with The New York Times; I’ve written op-eds for them before, and I have a feeling they’ll be interested in running a story like this.”

“Thank you, Booksmart. I really owe you one, don’t I?”

“You don’t owe me a damn thing, Birdbrain. Except…” (Y/N) trailed off and her eyes flicked over to Sam’s dresser tucked beneath his Louisiana University pennant, where nearly a dozen framed photographs were neatly organized across its surface. There were several photographs from Sam’s childhood – vacations with his parents and Sarah, cookouts, family gatherings and graduations – but many of them were more recent; Sam and (Y/N) working at the VA’s front desk together, a family portrait of Sarah and Henry with their infant sons AJ and Cass, a selfie that Natasha and Sam took with Steve and (Y/N) at their engagement party, and a group photograph of the Avengers they’d taken after Tony and Natasha’s funeral. Sam Wilson’s entire life was on display on that dresser, all the successes and failures he’d experienced and all the lifelong connections he’d made along the way, and as she looked at the framed photographs, she knew in her heart that there was no one on Earth better suited to carry the mantle of Captain America. “Knowing what you know now about Isaiah Bradley and the history of Black super-soldiers in America, promise me you’ll reconsider what to do about the shield? You don’t have to make a decision now or even ever, but just take the time to think it over on your own and without anyone telling you what they think you should do.”

Sam pursed his lips and nodded. “I will. We should probably get some sleep; you’ve got a long flight you’ve gotta catch tomorrow, and I’ve got a water pump to take apart and fix.”

“Sarah’s going to kick your ass if she finds you messing around with that water pump,” (Y/N) lightly scolded but smiled at the mischievous grin on her best friend’s face. “But I guess that’s why you’ll be getting up bright and early, huh?”

“You’re a very perceptive woman.” He pressed a chaste kiss onto her forehead and his smile softened. “G’night, (Y/N).”

“‘Night, Sam.” After giving Sam one last hug, (Y/N) left his room and returned to hers. She crawled into bed and stared up at the ceiling for a moment before reaching for her cell phone and FaceTiming Steve; when her husband’s tired face appeared on her screen, she felt a surge of guilt and sighed. “Damn, I forgot about the time zone difference. I’m sorry for waking you up-”

“Is everything okay, (Y/N)?” Steve interrupted, rubbing his sleep-filled eyes as he started to sit up in bed. “You look upset.”

“Everything’s fine, sweetheart, it’s just…Sam told me more about Isaiah Bradley and what happened to him, and I…” Her voice caught in her throat and she blinked away the fresh wave of tears. “I just really needed to see you and Carina.”

Steve’s expression softened with understanding. “Okay, sunshine. Cari’s sleeping right now, so why don’t I let you see her for a minute and then I’ll play the piano for you until you fall asleep?”

(Y/N) nodded and after he crept into Carina’s nursery to show her their sleeping daughter, he closed her door and sat himself at the small piano in their living room, cursing under his breath as he struggled to lean his cell phone against one of her writing awards on the piano’s lid. When he finally succeeded, he sat back and hovered his fingers over the black-and-white keys and she quietly spoke. “I love you, Steve.”

“I love you too,” Her husband gave her a gentle smile; she longed for nothing more than to have his arms wrapped around her but until she returned home to Maine the next day, she’d have to make do with the comfort of his loving gaze. “Sweet dreams, baby.”

While Steve softly played, (Y/N) felt her eyelids grow heavy and the sweet melody soon faded away as she slowly drifted off to sleep.

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

The next day, (Y/N) tossed her duffel bag into the trunk of her rental car and leaned against the bumper as she watched Sam and Bucky throwing the shield across the front yard, smiling to herself when she realized that they were actually talking things out. She said her goodbyes to Sarah, AJ and Cass earlier that morning as the older woman left to see what her brother and handsome guest were up to at Paul & Darlene and the children left for school; Sarah thanked her for being there for Sam and (Y/N) thanked Sarah for inviting her, both women sharing a meaningful hug before she hurried off to chastise her brother at the dock.

And to think, only a week ago they were at each other’s throats, (Y/N) silently remarked, pushing herself off the bumper as both men shook hands and started making their way towards her. “Ready to head out, Bucky?”

“Mm-hmm,” Bucky replied as he placed his backpack into the car’s trunk and shut its lid. “Gotta have plenty of time to explain the metal arm to the TSA agents, after all.”

Sam chuckled. “Makes sense to me. Thanks for the help, man, it meant a lot.”

“’Course.” Bucky smiled and clapped his shoulder before climbing into the passenger seat of the rental car.

(Y/N) wrapped her arms around Sam’s waist and smiled when he gave her a one-armed hug. “Take care of yourself, Birdbrain. If you need anything, anything at all, I’m only a phone call away. Okay?”

“Copy that, Booksmart. Have a safe flight.” Sam pulled away and flashed her his trademark grin. “Give Steve and the little cutie-pie my best.”

Getting into the driver’s seat, (Y/N) gave her best friend one last wave before switching the engine on and driving away from the Wilson’s home. The drive from Delacroix to Louis Armstrong New Orleans Airport was a little over an hour long, so (Y/N) passed the time humming along to her Big Band playlist while Bucky silently stared out the passenger-side window; the super-soldier didn’t say anything until they passed through Chalmette and when he did, his words made her brows furrow in confusion.

“(Y/N), I’m sorry.” She glanced over at him out of the corner of her eye but remained silent as he continued. “I realized a while ago that I never apologized to you for my actions that day at the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre, so I’d like to do that now.”

(Y/N) opened her mouth to reassure him that he hadn’t hurt her, that the Winter Soldier was the one who nearly killed her in Berlin and not him, but she found herself closing her mouth as she considered the super-soldier seated beside her. While he never intentionally did the things he did as the Winter Soldier, Bucky Barnes still did them; it was his hands that committed those heinous acts for over seventy years and whenever he closed his eyes, all he saw were the lives he took played over and over on a never-ending loop. The only way to heal from those decades of trauma was to accept that while he wasn’t guilty of anything, it was still he who did those things and once he acknowledged that, he could begin to move on from his past as the Winter Soldier. The Certified Kick-Ass Counselor strikes again, (Y/N) thought to herself with an inward smile, happy that Sam had put his counseling skills to good work and that Bucky had taken his wise words to heart.

“I accept your apology, Bucky, and I forgive you.” She gave him a smile and he shakily released the breath he’d been holding. “Do you feel better?”

“Actually, I do,” Bucky admitted as he straightened up in his seat. “Would it be okay if I came up to Rockport to visit you three? Not until all this business with Karli and the Flag Smashers is over and done, of course…”

(Y/N) nodded. “We’d love to have you! Steve’s been dying to show you all the art he’s been working on, and I just know that Cari will want to see her Uncle Bucky again.”

The two of them fell into easy conversation that lasted until after she returned her rental car and only ended when she received a text as they made their way into the airport. Assuming that it was only Steve checking in before her flight, (Y/N) pulled her cell phone out to answer but was taken by surprise to see that it was a brief text from Sam.

Birdbrain: Can you send me the link to your workout playlist? I’m gonna need some good music to listen to if I’m gonna master using this shield 😉

“Something wrong, doll?”

(Y/N) shook her head and as her lips curved into a grin, she looked up at Bucky and held up her phone so that he could read Sam’s subtle decision. “Actually, Bucky, everything’s looking pretty damn good to me.”

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

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ziGMhEsAw833GQ9eV44nR?si=6dfead09c76848d5

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (Part IV)

Stumblin’ In Book VII: “Superhero Snapshots” Masterlist

Stumblin’ In Book I: “The Winter Soldier” Masterlist

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