#tfatws reader insert

[make-me-imagine]

Moments In Time

Trope: Angry/Mean One is in love with the Happy/Sunshine One Plot: A collection of moments in time, showing the opposite sides of Bucky and Y/n, and how opposites attract in the best way possible.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x GN!Reader

Warnings: Brief mentions of violence/fighting, blood. Nothing in detail.

Words: 1.8k

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @caswinchester2000, @imaginesfire, @rexit-mo Bucky and Marvel Taglists: @cosplayingwitch, @trashywritestrash, @resplendentlady, @marvelouslyme96, @supersourlemon13, @mochamoff, @simsiddy, @peter-parkers-cullen-nerd, @flourishandblotts-inc

*Honestly could not think of a good plot for this trope, and didn't have much motivation while writing it, so this is all I could really come up with.

-

"I don't get how you can be so optimistic still." Bucky grumbled as he pulled open the door to the hotel.

You shrugged slightly as you looked over at him from your shoulder, water droplets falling down your face. "I like the rain."

"Even after our car gets destroyed and we have to walk two miles through it to get to civilization?"

You smiled at him. "Yep, even after that."

Bucky rolled his eyes as you turned to the woman at the front desk, but he felt a smile tug at his lips as he thought about how much of a good mood you were still in. He envied it sometimes. How you could see the good in anything, no matter how bad the situation.

"Oh dear, you two certainly got stuck in the storm didn't you." The older woman at the desk looked over the two of you with concern. "No luggage?"

You shook your head, "Nope, just got lost in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Ah, I see. Well we have nice hot water, so you can get warmed up. Let me get you a room."

"Two if you have them. Or a double room." You said politely and the women looked between the two of you.

"Oh, I apologize, I assumed you were a couple."

You glanced at Buck quickly, before taking a key from the woman. Bucky took his key as well, thanking her, before the two of you made your way to the elevators.

Bucky couldn't help the thoughts that ran through his head as you made your way into the elevators. If that woman assumed you were a couple, how many others did? Bucky felt the back of his neck burning as he looked over at you, almost ashamed at how much he had hoped you were a couple.

When the elevator opened, you hopped out to go to your room. Before the door closed, you spun around and met Bucky's eyes. "After we get warm and dry wanna get something to eat together?"

Your eyes were shining, still energetic and happy after the long exhausting day the two of you had. The perfect opposite of Bucky's tired, dark eyes. Bucky smiled softly and nodded his head. "Sure. See you then."

As the elevator door slid shut, Bucky could still see your smiling face in his mind. 'Maybe one day' he thought to himself.

- - - - - - - -

"I told you we didn't need a plan." Sam said a bit smugly as he started to remove his armor.

Bucky let out a huff of air through his nose as he looked over at Sam. "It would have went smoother if we did."

"Well there's no point in thinking about it now is there?" Sam watched as Bucky shook his head in annoyance. Sam smiled a bit to himself before commenting "Ya know, even though I'm glad you and Y/n are together now, I cannot get over how two people that are so completely different can be so perfect together. I would have hoped Y/n's bubbly personality and softness would have rubbed off on you by now."

Bucky looked over at Sam, ready to retort, but stopped short when the door swung open. As you walked swiftly into the room Sam raised his arms up, "Ah, speak of the devil."

"You talking about me Sam?" You asked with an amused tone.

He smiled at you. "I was just wondering how it is you can deal with this guy over here. Always in a bad mood, always mumbling, always grumbling. You're more patient than I could ever be."

You smiled at Sam before looking over at Bucky, seeing him avoiding your gaze. "I don't know Sam. You'd be surprised at the sides of him you don't see." Bucky glanced over at you and you looked back at Sam. "And maybe if you would stop running head first into fights without a plan, he wouldn't be so grumpy."

Sam opened his mouth in subtle offense as Bucky looked over at him. "See?"

Sam flapped his hands at you, letting out a "pssh" in response. "Maybe you two do have more in common than I thought."

You chuckled as you walked over to Bucky, brushing your finger lightly over a cut on his chin. He met your eyes, his soft gaze telling you he was alright.

Bucky often thought that you weren't suited for him. That he wasn't good enough for you. But he knew that no matter if he wasn't good enough he could never get himself to give you up. Not when you looked at him like that.

- - - - - - - -

Bucky had a reputation for being stoic, disgruntled, maybe even angry. Mostly because people tended to get on his bad side, or drug him into situations he wanted nothing to do with.

But sometimes, when no one else was around, and he was comfortable, he was the perfect opposite.

Soft, gentle, caring, romantic.

The way he would carry you to bed if you were too tired to make it. The long tight hugs from behind when he would shove his head into the crook of your neck.

The way he would gently clean and wrap your wounds when you got hurt. Or the soft voice he would use when you didn't feel good, or were having a bad day.

When he would bring you flowers, or your favorite movie to cheer you up or make you smile. Show you his favorite songs or movies. Dance with you in the living room, chest to chest.

These were the moments you held between the two of you. These were the parts of him he showed you and almost no one else.

So no matter how many times people pointed out the "bad" parts. The anger, the bad moods, the pessimistic thoughts. You knew that was not everything he was. And even if it was, you knew that you would still love him. Because he was him.

- - - - - - - -

Just as Bucky had his soft and happy sides that many did not see. You had your rough edges and inner anger.

You were always afraid people would look at you differently if they ever saw this side. You were afraid, that they would be afraid.

But Bucky did not see this as a weakness, he saw it as a strength. One, that when when utilized could save anyone in need. He was surprised at the hidden anger, the hidden power beneath the surface, but he was never afraid.

When someone was in danger, you were always there. To fight as hard as you could to save them. Whether that left you with blood on your hands, a wound to your body, or a weapon used, you were prepared if it meant saving the innocent.

This side did not come out often, but when it did, you were often left exhausted. Bucky told you it was the rain after the storm. To go with it, let it take you. To remind you of the toll, so you don't lose control of it.

He was never afraid of it. Never afraid you were some bomb ready to go off like some had said before. He saw the bright happiness and beauty in every part of you. And to him, that underlying darkness, that storm, was just as beautiful as the rest.

- - - - - - - -

Bucky hated it. Hated the intrusive thoughts, the ideas that you would be happier with someone else. Even with him. You smiled at him, laughed at his jokes. You were both happy on the outside, people didn't stare, or wonder why you would be together. Maybe it would be better for you this way.

Bucky shook himself from his thoughts as you came over to him, leaving the man behind. Bucky turned and began to walk with you to leave together.

You saw the way Bucky shoved his thoughts away, the subtle changed in his face as he smiled at you. Something was wrong, and he was hiding it. He had been hiding it for some time now, and enough was enough.

As soon as you got to Buck's apartment, you cornered him. "Are you gonna tell me what's going on, or do I have to get it out of you the hard way?"

Bucky blinked, silent as he stared at you. "What?" He finally asked, dumbfounded by the sudden interrogation.

"I can tell something has been going on Bucky. You've been a lot quieter recently, not telling me anything, something is clearly bothering you, that you haven't told me about, which makes me think it is me that's wrong."

"What? No. You've done nothing." Bucks voice was soft, but defensive. He stepped forward, placing his hands on your shoulders.

"Then what is it that you can't tell me, or talk to me about? I mean, did something happen? Have you been getting nightmares again, what?"

Bucky was alarmed at the near panic in your eyes as you spoke. He sighed, hanging his head for a minute. "Nothing happened, not like that at least. I just...I can't help but think.."

"What?" You asked softly when he didn't continue.

"I just-" he sighed as he stepped away from you, turning around. "The more often I see you with that guy at work. The way you smile and laugh with him. I-I can't help these thoughts that take over. Telling me that you would be happier with someone else. I mean, I'm-" He turned back to you as he gestured vaguely at himself. "I'm, well, me."

"Which is exactly why I love you." You said with mild exasperation, walking up to him, you placed your hands on his chest. "Bucky, do you not see how you are with people? You may come off stand offish at times, but people like you. You are blunt, but honest. You are kind, even through the grumbling. You make friends with some of the softest people. I laugh and smile with you all the time. Are you telling me that you don't see that anymore? Or is it that you never have?"

Bucky squinted as he thought about what you were saying. You were right. He wasn't as closed off as he used to be, it's not as hard for him to be himself around others, or even strangers. But he still thinks of himself as that person.

"I-I guess not, I just...don't you want me to be...more?"

You smiled sadly at him as you brought your hands to his face. "I want you exactly as you are Bucky."

He smiled at you, bringing up his hand, he gently brushed his fingers down your cheek. "I guess I just got in my own head."

"Yeah. You do that sometimes."

He let out a soft chuckle as he leaned closer, pressing his forehead against yours. "I love you, you know that."

"Of course I do. And I love you. Always will."

xx End xx

#Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes/Reader #Marvel #tfatws #tfatws/reader #avengers #buck barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes/you #tfatws reader insert #bucky barnes imagine #marvel imagine #tfatws imagine #the falcon and the winter soldier #the falcon and the winter soldier/reader #oneshot #one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fic #fluff #writing trope #trope week #day one

[urdepressedslut]

Just Like That

♡ Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: While you two were supposed to be repairing Sam’s boat, you end up giving Bucky head instead.

♡ Warnings: SMUT, blowjobs, deepthroating/face fucking, slight praise kink, literally no plot just filth

main masterlist

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | 18+

He couldn’t stop his hips from thrusting into your lips, the way your tongue ran on the underside of his dick— tracing the bulging vein.

“Doll… oh my… fuckkk.” He moaned out, his flesh hand tangling their fingers into your hair.

You hummed, sending vibrations into his dick. The action had him gripping your hair tight, the slight pain from your scalp shooting straight to your core. The throb had you whining around his length.

“Making me feel s’ good baby.” He praised breathlessly, easing his grip on your hair— petting it down soothingly.

You flattened your palms on his thighs, pushing forward until the head of his cock bumped the back of your throat.

His hips bucked instinctively, almost crying out at the way your throat was squeezing him. He grabbed the doorway of the boat, the wood splintering in his metal grip.

You pulled all the way off of him, before swallowing his entire length again— gagging as his head hit deeper in the back of your throat.

“S’ fucking good baby…” He whimpered, his head tilted back in ecstasy.

You snuck a hand down, playing with his balls, letting your other hand pump his length. You glanced up at him— spit leaking from your lips. You watched with lust filled eyes as he panted and whined.

“James… you’re so hard,” You purred, his head snapping down at you, “Bet you’re close, huh?”

He let out a pathetic whine as you squeezed his balls—his face contorted in pain.

“Words baby.” You demanded, leaning forward to swirl your tongue around his head.

His hips twitched slightly, the sensation of your tongue massaging around his tip heavenly. He let out a deep moan, feeling your tongue lick over his slit.

“S’ close doll— just like that.” He praised, letting his fingers comb through your hair.

There was something about you kneeling before him, eyes glossed over with lust, as the tears trailed down your cheeks— that made him absolutely feral. The position was so submissive, yet you held all the power. He was melting at your touch— his body putty at your hands.

You pumped his achingly hard length, giving his tip kitten licks. With your free hand caressing his thigh, you could feel the muscle twitch under your palm.

“Gonna cum James?” You asked hoarsely, his hazed over eyes meeting with yours.

You captured his length again, deepthroating him until your nose was buried into the hairs at the base of his cock. You gagged again, the convulsion from your throat making him growl in pleasure.

“Oh… that— keep doing that baby fuck…” He begged, his hips having a mind of their own, rocking into your face.

You whined around him, trying to breathe through your nose as he began to fuck your throat.

You reached around, grabbing handfuls of his ass— kneading the flesh. The action only made his thrusts deeper, his moans needier.

His thrusts were harsher, his needs a priority and if he had to use your face to chase his high— so be it. You on the other hand, we’re dripping. Your pussy was throbbing, him manhandling you making your entire body tingle— ache with desire.

He was nearly crying, his pants mixed with whines, getting impossibly close to the edge. You whimpered around him, his sounds only edging you on.

“Fuck baby… yes— you’re fucking mine,” He growled, his length growing impossibly harder at the image of you crying around him, “All mine.”

Your nails dug into the skin on his ass, your face drenched in tears, salvia leaking out of your mouth and down your chin. You gagged again, spurring him on further, his thrusts quicker. He grabbed your head, fucking your face with such force and suddenly he was pushing impossibly deeper in your throat, your jaw aching.

With an animalistic groan, he was spilling his seed down your throat. His breathing slowing, the waves of euphoria flowing throughout him. He stayed like that for a moment, relishing the feel of your throat around him.

At last, he released his death grip on your head. Slipping his cock from your throat with a hiss, his head sensitive. You gasped, panting in attempts to fill your lungs with the needed air.

With hooded eyes, Bucky gazed down at you with pleasure hazed eyes. His cock twitched at your flushed face, the tears tracks mixing with your spit— and his cum that had snuck out. Your eyes were slightly bloodshot, but as you gazed up at him— you were looking at him with such desire. You looked as if you were just getting started, and you wanted to devour him again.

“Such a good girl.” He whispered, voice hoarse.

He cradled your face, caressing your clammy cheek. He gently pulled you up, helping support your swaying state. You leaned into his palm, holding his gaze with adoration.

“I love you James.” You spoke into his palm, placing a kiss on his rough skin.

“I love you more baby.” He told you, wrapping his metal arm around your lower back, pulling you flush to him. “Now, let me return the favor.”

#bucky barnes #the winter soldier #marvel cinematic universe #reader insert #sebastian stan #buckybarnes #marvel imagines #oneshot #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes smut #beefy bucky barnes #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws bucky barnes #literally ruin me #like pls i need him to gag me #i’m feral

[urvenicebtch]

Liquor: A Guide

-----pairing: dbf!Bucky x reader

Summary: after some drinking games with Bucky and your father, you can’t help but surrender your feelings to Bucky which leads to some more the next morning.

A/N: two things, i’m a whore for neighbour and dbf Bucky and i’m apparently a panther as per urban dictionary’s definition

Warnings: drinking, intoxication, masturbation (f!, though there’s allusion to m!), mirror play, spit kink(?), bit of a daddy kink, overstimulation, size kink, painful sex, pet names (honey, daddy), insemination, fingering, oral (f! receiving), palming

The night before was a usual hang out until Bucky found the cabinet of board games and persuaded your father to make it into a drinking game. Fast forward four hours, your father is piss drunk, you’re pretty fucked up, and Bucky’s going on strong 9 drinks deep and not even a slurred word slipping past his lips.

You and Bucky packed the last game away and made your way upstairs, using the banister to hoist yourself up as the ground began to feel like it was folding. Eventually, you and Bucky made it to your rooms, and you stripped to just your bra and underwear before climbing into bed. With your bedside lamp still on, you stared at yourself in the mirror across from your bed, wondering what you would look like if he ever did have sex with you.

Not likely.

You climb out of the covers onto your hands and knees and look behind yourself in the mirror, instantly turned on by the sight of your lace panties perfectly fitting across your ass, revealing just enough yet still covering your lips properly. The sight of your covered heat just beneath your ass made you excited to show Bucky, though you knew that wasn’t gonna happen. After all he’s your dads best friend, not to mention the 20-something year age gap.

Rolling onto your back, you spread your legs the way you would for missionary and eye the way your thighs look spread apart, showing your crotch once again. Tired of the restriction, you pull off your panties, dropping them to the ground as you climb back into your hands and knees. You spread your lips to see yourself properly and moan quietly at the sight, the clear fluid starting to leak from your entrance glistening in the lamp light.

Slowly, you gather some of your arousal to test if there’s enough there to masturbate. Making a decision, you bring your hand back up to your face and spit on your fingers before running them through your lips again, whining when you start to circle your clit.

In the mirror, you watch the way your folds move around your fingers, listening to the quiet wet noises coming from it. You moan softly, adding more pressure to your clit before pulling your hand back and sliding a finger into your wet entrance. You groan as you watch your finger disappear into yourself before sliding it back out and adding another.

You moan a little louder with the second one, using your thumb to flick your clit side-to-side, covering your mouth with the other. You know Bucky is still awake, so you try to be quiet despite the fact that you want him to hear you. With Bucky now on your mind, you glance back at the mirror, imagining they’re Bucky’s fingers disappearing into you with every swipe of your clit.

Moving your fingers faster, your care for how loud you are begins to fade away, now only thinking about how Bucky would finger you… no, how Bucky would fuck you. The louder you moan makes you concerned that you might get caught, but the fear just makes you even closer to your high. With every lewd sound from your mouth, a wave of pleasure courses through you until you cum. Hard.

You moan provocatively and very loudly into your bedsheets as you bury your fingers in yourself, forcefully fucking yourself and abusing your clit to get the most out of the orgasm that you can. As you come down, you look in the mirror and watch the small bits of fluid that leaks out of you as you pull your fingers out, moaning softly as you wipe yourself up with the same two fingers before putting them in your mouth and licking them clean in the mirror.

About to go to the bathroom, you pull your panties back on and throw a pair of pj pants on before walking to your bedroom door, stopping when you realize that it’s been opened a couple inches. Your heart drops as you realize that you may have just broadcasted your orgasm to Bucky just down the hall from you, and you freeze.

You’re frozen in place until you hear skin slapping coming from the guest bedroom. Immediately, you put two and two together and guess that he, too, is masturbating. Without a second thought, you walk straight to his room, knocking quickly on the door.

Obscenities are muttered from behind the door and a belt buckle rattles before he’s at the door, hair askew and shirtless. He opens the door a crack, hiding his hips down behind it as he stares at you pale as a ghost.

“Can I kiss you?” you ask, the liquor coursing through you making its way to your head all at once. He stops moving entirely, his breath caught.

“You’re drunk,” he says, his body tensing with restraint.

“So?” you ask, stumbling a little in place.

“So, I’m not gonna take advantage of you. Go to bed,” he says softly before closing the door on you.

You groan and drag your feet back to your room, dropping flat on the bed.

Hours later, you wake up, tucked under the covers in the middle of your bed— not at all where you remember falling asleep. You sit up in bed, rubbing your eyes before you realize Bucky standing in your doorway, leaning on the frame.

“Morning,” he says.

“Hi,” you respond, turning to the side and climbing out of bed. You grab a crewneck sweater from your dresser and pull it over yourself, knowing he’s already seen you in your bra courtesy of your poor judgement the night before.

You’re about to walk past him out of your room when a hand on your abdomen stops you. The placement of his hand makes you whimper quietly as your mind instantly wonders if that’s where he would put it while he holds you, fucking you from behind like you did in the mirror. He groans at your reaction before saying what he was going to.

“Did you mean what you said last night?” he asks, eyes already holding yours when you look up at him.

“Yes,” you respond quickly, taking the chance to pass him when his arm drops. You don’t get far before he pulls you back, kissing you deeply with a need you’ve never seen in anybody before. You kiss back instantly, clasping your hands behind his neck. He picks you up by the hips, hoisting you around his waist as he carries you back to your bed.

He places you on your back on the bed, facing the mirror the same way you did last night. He parts your lips and stares down at you as you realize where you are.

“So you were watching me,” you say, biting your lip with a smirk. He shifts with a chuckle before moving back toward your face.

“Your dad’s still asleep,” he says, just before reconnecting your mouths. “Gives us quite a bit of time.”.

Your tongues press together, lifting and swiping one another as you hold his face, running your thumbs across the stubble on his jaw. You lift your hips for him as he runs his hands down your sides before pulling your pyjama pants down. His hands knead the flesh of your hips, working toward your ass, then your inner thighs.

You pull back from him, worrying him until you pull your sweater back off, sitting up to lift his up too. He grabs his black t-shirt from the side and pulls it over himself in one motion, prompting you to trace his flexing muscles with your gaze as he breathes. He places his metal hand around your throat, pushing you back down onto the bed as he works his lips down your throat toward your chest.

Leaving wet kisses in his wake, he trails toward your breasts, unclasping your bra with his free hand and pulling it off your arms before kneading one breast and sucking the nipple of the other. You hum in response to the stimulation, grinding your crotch upward onto his jeans and moaning softly at the way his fly reaches your clit perfectly.

He thrusts downward onto you, switching breasts and crafting hickeys across your chest. His suckling noises cease when he sucks your breast into his mouth, releasing it with a groan before chuckling and kissing his way down your stomach. Your muscles tense beneath him as his stubble scratches your flesh, quickly soothed by his warm lips.

When he reaches your lower stomach, you jump your hips up, butterflies erupting in your abdomen the same way they did earlier. He laughs out a breath and smiles at you with his hands moved down and hooked in the band of your panties.

“May I?” he asks, tilting his head. You nod a couple times and bite your lip, furrowing your brows as he pulls them down, kissing from your abdomen to the edge of your pubic bone before spreading your legs apart and running his tongue between your lips slowly, sucking one of them into his mouth.

You moan when he licks a second stripe, giving your clit a couple kitten licks before sticking his finger into his mouth, coating it in saliva before rubbing it against your entrance, gently working its way in. You moan out when he begins a pattern of sucking your clit, licking it, and circling it with his tongue, thrusting his finger upward into you the whole time.

You whimper at the feeling of his tongue on you, melting into you like it’s what it was made for. He picks up the pace, fucking you with his finger faster as he just sucks your clit, ditching the pattern as you clench around him repeatedly. You moan out as your orgasm builds fast, quickly breaking through and making you grind up onto his face as you arch your back and grip the sheets with one hand and his hair with the other.

He flattens his tongue against your clit, staring up at you and letting you rub yourself off on it as he burries his finger in you as far as he can, groaning hoarsely. Once you’ve come down, he pulls his finger out of you slowly, licking and sucking at your entrance to clean you up, making you squirm. He resurfaces at your face and kisses you deeply, rutting into your thigh desperately.

You reach down, groping his hard cock through his pants before unbuttoning his jeans and unzipping his fly, pushing them down his hips as far as you can. He takes over and pulls them the rest of the way off along with his boxers, leaving the both of you entirely exposed.

You reach down blindly to rub him again, shocked by how quickly your hand meets his tip considering how much farther you had to reach before. You pull from the kiss and look down, gasping quietly. He traces your ear with his tongue before chuckling and thrusting toward your hand.

It’s not just the length that shocks you but the girth. You can just barely wrap your hand all the way around him as you try to massage his intimidating length, veins entirely visible and the tip a harsh shade of pink. He groans at the contact, moving his hips into your hand as you focus on his his tip.

You pull your hand back, spitting into it as he watches before returning your hand to him. He hisses at the coldness of your saliva before moaning into your ear as you massage his tip with it. You continue stroking him for a few more seconds before maneuvering his tip between your lips, shuddering at the feeling of his hot skin between yours.

“Let me know when you’re ready,” he says, using his metal hand to guide himself through your folds.

“Hang on a sec, actually. I wanna do something,” you suggest and he steps back, still holding himself as he watches you maneuver yourself on an angle facing the mirror. He chuckles as he places himself back between your legs, noting how the angle provides both of you with a perfect view of everything in the mirror. “I’m ready,” you say, taking a deep breath.

“Okay,” he whispers, leaning down and taking one of your hands in his flesh one, interlacing your fingers as he ruts between your lips a few more times before aligning himself at your entrance. You squeeze your eyes shut as he starts to push into you, immediately feeling yourself stretch around him with a burning sensation. You yelp a quiet sob at the pain as he penetrates you, squeezing his hand tightly and covering your mouth.

“I know, I know, honey. If you want me to stop just say so and I will. Do you want me to stop?” he asks as he pauses. You shake your head ‘no’ in response and he looks down at you with worried eyes.

“You sure?” he asks. You hum affirmatively and nod and he lowers himself back down to you, kissing you softly as he pushes himself in some more, pulling out a bit every time he meets resistance. You whine into his mouth and he groans as he continues pushing. Once he bottoms out, you moan out in both pleasure and pain, more-so the latter.

“Ah yeah, fuck,” he groans.

Giving you time to adjust he doesn’t move his hips at all, just kissing you and running his free hand down your side and up your thigh repeatedly. You wiggle your hips around a bit, moving your free hand to your clit to relieve some of the pain. You feel his cock throbbing in you as he watches you play with yourself, aching to move. Toying with your clit helps you to feel yourself relax a bit, ready for him.

“I’m alright,” you assure him.

He kisses you gently on the forehead before watching in the mirror as he pulls out of you slowly, making you squirm and whine. When he pushes back in, you scrunch your face up until he bottoms out, moaning more-so out of pleasure than pain when he pulls out again. Soon enough, he’s able to slide in and out of you with barely any pain besides the slight burning at your rim.

Watching in the mirror, you both moan as you watch the entirety of him disappearing into you then the pull of your skin when he pulls out. You moan louder when he picks up the pace a bit, his balls slapping your ass and his tip pushing behind your cervix with every thrust deep inside you.

“What a dirty young lady. Letting her dad’s best friend make love to her while her dad’s asleep just downstairs,” he taunts into your ear, losing more and more of his self-restraint with every push into you. You clench around him at his words, the idea of getting caught making you even hornier than you already are.

“Oh-o, you like that, honey? Huh?” he prompts. You moan in response, nodding your head as you drag your nails up his back, leaving red raw marks behind them. “Let me hear you,” he says.

“Yes!” you shriek, pushing your head backward into the bed as you moan.

“Yes, what?” he presses.

“Yes, Bucky!” you grip his shoulders for support as you watch his hips snap into you in the mirror and his eyes meet yours in it. He grabs your face with one hand, pushing you back onto the bed.

“No, not Bucky. Daddy. Say it”, he demands. Your eyes roll back as you moan out again, unable to control it.

“Yes, Daddy!” you shout out as you near your orgasm. He moves his hand to your clit, rubbing it fast and hard, same as how he’s fucking you. You moan out as you cum around him, your walls fluttering around him as he splits you in half. You cry out as he picks up the pace again, moving his thumb even faster now to push you over the edge once more.

“Daddy, it hurts!” you cry to him, the overstimulation too much for you to handle.

“You can take it, honey, come on. Just one more,” he urges you as his breathing becomes laboured. You cry out again as your third orgasm pushes through you. It’s mind numbing and leaves you trembling as his pace breaks down and his hips stutter before he’s spilling into you, thrusting a few more times before pulling out of you.

It takes you a moment before you can open your eyes again, when you do, they immediately find Bucky on his knees across from you, entranced by the sight of his fluid leaking from between your folds. You whimper quietly and try to close your legs, finding it difficult.

Bucky slowly moves up to you, lying next to you and pulling your figure into his embrace. You melt into his touch, trying to ignore how sore you are between your legs already.

“Sorry if I was too harsh,” he mumbles into your hair.

“I loved it, Bucky,” you respond, nuzzling into the crook of his neck as you focus on the feeling of him running down your legs.

#sebastian stan #bucky barnes #marvel #bucky barnes x reader #female reader #fanfic #bucky barnes smut #reader insert #wattpad #dbf!bucky #tfatws!bucky #smut #ao3 #dom!bucky

[tom-whore-dleston]

Love Changed the Minds of Pretenders

Pairing ▹ Bucky Barnes x gn. reader

Word Count ▹ 1k

This fic contains ▹ angst, fluff, songfic, unestablished relationship, mentions of sex, mentions of Joaquin x reader, mutual ending of relationship, light beta reading (even though there are no explicit mentions of adult themes, I do not want minors or blank blogs interacting with this fic)

Summary ▹ Do you remember | The 21st night of September?

Notes ▹ I should be asleep right now because I have work at 7am but I just had a random burst of creativity and I needed to let it out. Anyways, this is my submission for @bucks-and-noble Summer Send Off. Thank you @buckets-and-trees and @sgt-seabass for creating this challenge and refueling my love for Bucky. And a special shoutout to the book club! I am so happy I met y'all and I am beyond grateful for the bond we have created 💖 Fun fact: This is my first ever Bucky fic woop woop!! Remember to reblog and comment if you enjoyed! 😊

Prompt ▹ use a lyric [from September by Earth Wind and Fire] as direct inspiration for a theme/idea

September 21, 2022. 10:02 pm.

The night you met Bucky Barnes. 

Of all places, you met Bucky at a bar. The same bar where your friend performed their first live show and they invited you to watch. You weren’t expecting to meet anyone that night. Your heart had been broken only a few weeks prior. 

Everyone thought: Was he a rebound? A distraction?

No. He was so much more than that. It could have been easy to feel that way fresh out of heartbreak. Even more so when outsiders were constantly questioning what you and Bucky really were. But there was clearly a reason Bucky showed up in your life after this period of hurting. 

Bucky gave you love and security. He made you feel safe when he took you to the movies, when he made love to you, when you slept peacefully in his strong arms. You always thanked him for the things he did to make you feel secure and loved. He’d reply with his typical phrase, “I’m glad I make you feel that way.” 

He welcomed you into his home, his life, and his heart after many years of keeping the door locked and the key tucked away. Waking up and stroking your face before pressing a kiss to your dry lips was something that made your love for him stronger. Then after an hour or so of getting tangled between the sheets, you both would jump in the shower, gently caressing one another with soapy hands. Breakfast with Bucky was another tender ritual that you cherished. Whether it was at 10 in the morning or 1 in the afternoon, you never skipped breakfast with him.

He challenged your negative thoughts and beliefs. You and Bucky would stay on the phone until 3 in the morning talking about the universe, aliens, and other conspiracy theories. The two of you would ponder on the purpose of your lives and the ways of the universe. One thing you both were certain about was that you wanted your lives to be fulfilling and meaningful. Your world expanded and bloomed with beauty and wonder because of him. You wanted to be better and so did he.

Bucky made you believe in love again. And you made Bucky believe in love again.

As the months passed, everything was splendid. Perfect, even. But with perfection, there’s always something lacking. Of course, you wouldn’t have seen what was lacking if it slapped you in the face.

After 10 months of dating Bucky, you finally revealed your love for him. Now, Bucky wasn’t the type to say it. Heck, he didn’t even say “I love you” to his sister unless she said it first. Yet that wasn’t a deal breaker because he expressed his love in other ways. 

“I love you, too. I know your feelings for me are strong, but I don’t know if I can give you what you want.” 

It was understandable. He did mention in the beginning that he wanted to casually date. You forgot that you wanted the same thing. Man that felt like such a long time ago. Time really does fly when you start to fall in love. And hard you fell.

You hid your disappointment by making more excuses as to why being committed to Bucky would not be in the cards. First, there was the long distance. Then, there was the uncertainty about both of your futures. For a couple that talked a lot about your ambitions, you both lacked the confidence in where you would go in life. As the list of reasons piled up, there was one that made your brain fuzzy and your heart swell.

That reason was Joaquin Torres.

You met Joaquin through your cousin. There was an instant attraction between the two of you yet neither of you pursued each other. If you had gone for Joaquin, you would not have created the world you had with Bucky. So when your feelings for Joaquin grew stronger than your feelings for Bucky, you knew you had to take action before someone got hurt. 

Contrary to your belief, no one got hurt. You were transparent with Joaquin about your status with Bucky, and he understood. When you revealed to Bucky your feelings for Joaquin, he too understood. 

“Listen, angel, I know you. You know what you want in your life and you don’t let anything get in the way of that. I do love you, but who am I to stand in the way of living the life you want. You’ve let people tell you how to live your life for so long and now it’s my turn to stop that cycle. If this is what you want, don’t let me stop you.”

You and Bucky shared beautiful memories over the 10 months of being together, but the words he said to you on August 8, 2023 will always be ingrained in your brain for the rest of your life. That night was the last time you spoke to him and saw his face, even though it was over a video call.

“I’m grateful for having you in my life,” you confessed to him, trying not to cry. You couldn’t figure out if it was because you were surprised this conversation went way better than you thought or because you were saying goodbye.

Bucky grinned, “No need to get all sappy on me, angel.” You shared a final laugh together. “Well, if you ever find yourself in the city, you know where to find me.”

Part of you wanted to make a joke about how you’d run into him at the bar where you met, but you stopped yourself. Instead, you replied:

“You got it, Buck.”

And that marked the end of you and Bucky. 

You and Bucky’s love was never meant to fail. Yet it was never meant to succeed. Perhaps it was just meant to simply exist. 

But who knows, maybe that fateful night in August was not the end. Only time could tell. That was the beauty of time and the universe. You can plan and make certain choices, but ultimately, the universe will lead you to where you’re meant to be.

Now, it’s September 21, 2023. No, Bucky is not in the picture, but your thoughts are with him. 

Do you remember? Yes, you remember. You always will.

Navigation | Fanfic Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

#bnsummersendoff #bucky barnes #winter soldier #sebastian stan #tfatws #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #angst #fluff #reader insert #no y/n

[gaysindistress]

I love u like I’ll get on my knees 😍😍😍😍 CAN U PLEASEEEE PLEASEEEE do TFAWS!Bucky x Latina reader?? maybe more specifically Brazilian?? we need some rep 🥺🥺 HAHA actually though like reader is good friends with Sam and Sam introduces them? Please, and thank u the dead love of my life

AHAHHAAHWH MY FIRST REQUEST!!!! thank you so much love!!

Okay okay so here’s a little Drabble for ya! I feel like this could be a full one shot?? Maybe after my follower celebration that starts on Friday! Also I wrote this on my phone so I apologize if there are any spelling/grammar errors.

Anjo -Portuguese for “angel”

mãe - Portuguese for “mom”

Warnings: cursing

Word count: 1.2k (this was only meant to be 500ish words…)

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on google/Pinterest

“Please tell me that you didn’t text him,” My coworker asks with an edge of dread and disgust in her voice. For the last two hours of our shift, Lilly has been on me about the guy who left me his number yesterday.

It had been a slow day with only regulars really coming in so a decent looking young guy walking in felt like Christmas. Lils was on it and immediately put on her best flirt, fluttering her big eyes and matching lashes at him when he ordered. I wanted to laugh at the scene but that died when he flashed a smile my way and handed me his number. It was quickly followed by some passing comment about how he hates it when girls throw themselves at him. I had half a mind to throw his coffee on him but I knew my boss would have my head. I settled for plastering a fake smile on my face and saying “Vai pro caralho.” Of course the ignorant asshole thought I was being nice and winked at me. It took all of my strength to not shutter in disgust.

“You should know me better than that,” I throw back at her, “from that 2 minute interaction alone, I can already tell that he would talk about himself the entire date before saying something borderline foul like how Latinas girls are his favorite and he can’t stand white girls .”

Lils snorts as she takes a sip of her coffee, nearly choking and sending the hot liquid flying over the freshly cleaned counter. I arch a dark brow at her which makes her laugh even harder.

“What? Am I wrong? You can’t tell me that he wouldn’t have pulled out that high school Spanish to impress me.”

“No, no,” she stutters, wiping the coffee up, “it just caught me off guard is all. Wait, didn’t you say something to him in Spanish before he left? What did you say?”

I narrow my eyes at her, “Vai pro caralho? Babes you should know better.”

She looks at me in horror, “oh my god it was Portuguese, wasn’t it?”

I nod as she profusely apologizes, “I am so sorry, Y/N. Oh my god I’m not better than that asshat. Ugh, what does that mean though?”

The front door opens before I have the chance to speak and the little bells above alerts us to the one regular that never fails to put a smile on my face. Sam had been coming in since before I started working at Brewed Awakenings but after that first interaction, he came pretty much daily. He even got Sarah his sister to start coming in and within a matter of a few weeks, I was invited over for Sunday dinner.

“It means Go fuck yourself,” I tell Lils as I round the counter with a bright smile and wide arms. Sam matches me and wraps me into a tight hug.

“Good morn, Anjo. How are you?” He asks as he squeezes me into this chest.

I pull back and give him my best angry mãe look we I demand to know where he’s been for the last few weeks.

He holds his hands up in defense as he says, “put those eyes away, Anjo. Im sorry okay? I was on official business and I didn’t have time to swing by to let you know but I’m back.”

I don’t let up my expression at first and lecture him some more, “You better be. You were gone for like…”

I pause for dramatic effect to pretend to count the time while walking back around the counter, “6 weeks. I was about to send out a search and rescue team to find you. Ridiculous.”

Sam chuckles while shaking his head at me. He steps to the side to reveal a man that’s been standing behind him and one that I hadn’t noticed before.

A damn attractive man.

Albeit a bit judgmental given the looks he’s throwing at the both of us.

“I wasn’t gone that long,” Sam tries but stops when I shot him another mãe look. He quickly changes the subject, clapping his hand on his companion’s shoulder and introducing him, “well this is Bucky. He’s the reason I was gone so if you’re going to be mad at anyone, be mad at him.”

Bucky.

He looks familiar but I can’t quite figure out why. The massive resting bitch face forced me I stop the search before offering him a bright smile as I repeat his name.

This seems to…irritate him? I honestly can’t tell with the stone wall of moodiness and brooding that lives on his drop dead gorgeous face.

“Well welcome in Bucky, I’m Lilly but everyone calls me Lils and this is y/n,” Lils jumps in with an equally wide smile. His dark eyes flicker between us but hover half a second longer on me. He utters a low “thank you” and looks up to the menu.

Sam rolls his eyes at his short answer but his ever present smile never fades as he orders his usual, a large hot mocha with soy milk. I’ve tried to get him to switch to coconut or even hemp milk but he refuses. He always gives me the whole speech about how “soy is the closest to real milk and if I’m going to drink alternative milk, it has to be close to the real thing.”

“And for you?” I turn my attention to Bucky while Lils starts on Sam’s order. He looks me with slightly wide eyes, a little startled it seems that I’m still talking to and looking at him.

He freezes for a moment, “uh…um a large house coffee.”

“Of course,” Lils jumps in once again and slides a cup across the counter to him. The loud volume of her voice causes him to flinch and Sam instinctively steps in front of him. He takes the cup without another word and fills it while Sam pays and throws a shamelessly flirty smile to Lils. She mocks faintly in a fit of giggles and winks at him.

Sam turns his attention to him and subtlety jerks his chin towards the door, wordlessly asking me if I’ll walk them out. Lils caught it too and rolls her eyes before shooing us out the door.

“She means no harm. She’s just…cheery,” I tell Bucky when the door closes behind us and we step onto the side walk, “I can tell her to tone it back for when you come in next.”

Sam chuckles under his breath and tries to hide a smile behind his cup but fails miserably. Bucky shots him another one of those bored looks and rolls his beautiful eyes at him.

“You don’t have to do that,” he finally says to me and actually makes eye contact with me, “Y/N.”

I offer him another wide smile and stick my hand for him to shake. He glances down at my watch and rings before taking my hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, Bucky. Don’t let Sam fill your head with too many tales and I hope to see you soon.”

The man in question basically squawks in protests as I hug him goodbye and disappear back into the coffee shop.

About an hour after I get home, I get a text from Sam saying something along the lines of “Robo cop liked you and asked for your number.”

Moments later a D.C. number sends me a text and I quickly save it under “Bucky (aka Robo Cop according to Sam)”

That’s when it clicks who he is; Bucky Barnes, the former Winter Solider and the most attractive man I’ve ever met.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #marvel imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #brazil #Brazilian! reader #Brazilian!reader x Bucky #latina reader x bucky #bucky x latina reader #latina!reader x bucky #bucky x latina!reader #latina reader #request #tfatws #tfatws Bucky #bucky barnes reader insert #marvel

[anonymityisfunwriter]

The Twin Flame - Chapter 39: "Bigger Than The Whole Sky"

"Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, you were bigger than the whole sky, you were more than just a short time. And I've got a lot to pine about, I've got a lot to live without, I'm never gonna meet what could've been, would've been, what should've been you..."

Pairing: Sunshine!Reader x Grumpy!Bucky Barnes Part of The Grumpy x Sunshine Universe

"Bucky!" Sam bellows down the hall, running as fast as he can down the hall. He skids around the corner of the hospital corridor, desperate for any update on you.

He halts the second he sees Bucky.

Sam's blood immediately runs cold. He isn't quite sure what it is about the scene that does it, but he assumes the worst. It hits him like a truck. The familiar ache of dread. The silence right before the storm breaks over the horizon, before it consumes every ounce of sunshine in its path, before it consumes him. 

No words appear before him in the aftermath. There's nothing to say. Nothing to do. 

He watches from all the way down the hall. The nurse bows her head at Bucky, murmuring something that Sam can't quite make out from his distance. He can't bring himself to take another step forward. 

It's over. 

And he's not ready for that. He's not ready to turn to the last page. He knows what awaits them there. He's certain Bucky will understand and agree. They're not ready for a story that doesn't have you in it. 

He'll stand in the hallway forever if it means that it's not over. He'll stay here forever if it means he doesn't have to say goodbye. 

Bucky hangs his head, holding it in his hands. It's as close to the fetal position as a grown man in a hospital waiting room can get. Sam is positive that he's never seen Bucky doubled over like he's going to be sick. 

The worst hangs over his head. This is it. The worst. There would never be another goodbye as hard as this one. 

His lips refuse to form the words. Goodbye. It was so simple. A fleeting word with an everlasting impact. Goodbye. It tastes bitter in his mouth. It poisons all his thoughts. His mouth falls open. All that can be heard is a breath that sounds as hollow as Sam feels. Goodbye. 

How do you say goodbye to something, to someone, that was bigger than the whole sky? How do you say goodbye to someone that would forever reside in your heart?

He can't help it. He can't bring himself to have hope.

After the events of tonight, with the memory of finding you lying in a pool of your own blood fresh in his mind, hope is sparse. Hope was left in the pool of blood he found you in. Hope was left in the tears, the ragged sobs Karli shed for you. Hope, was something he simply didn't have in this moment. 

He can't bring himself to say words he doesn't believe. 

His leadened feet start leading him to the where Bucky remains hunched over, hugging himself like his arms are the only thing holding him together.

Sam's body tenses itself on instinct, bracing himself for the most painful loss he'll ever face. 

A few feet away from Bucky, Sam's hoarse voice weakly calls out, "Bucky?"

"Sam..." Bucky's head snaps up, immediately sitting up straight. He immediately sighs in relief, "Thank God, you're here."

"Is she-"

Bucky's frantic voice steamrolls over Sam's dreaded question, "They won't tell me anything, Sam. I've asked everybody in this entire fucking building and no one will tell me anything. I've yelled, begged, pleaded, threatened, and nothing. I almost put a fucking hole in the wall. I tried lying and telling them - you know, it doesn't matter what I said, they just keep tellin' me immediate family only."

"Okay. Okay," The knot in Sam's throat loosens ever so slightly. He places his hand on Bucky's shoulder, mostly to keep Bucky from angrily bounding out of his seat. "We'll figure it out."

"That's her doctor, right there," Bucky points out the doctor he watched dart in and out of the hospital waiting room all night.  

"Excuse me," Sam frantically calls after the doctor.

The doctor stops in his tracks, sighing something under his break. He turns around with an expression that borders on irritation. Sam can only imagine the amount of times Bucky demanded an update. The doctor tucks his clipboard against his chest. He turns on his heels, and Sam's not sure what it is, but the doctor's expression morphs from irritation to almost apologetic at the sight of the distress on Sam's face, "As I've told your friend, sir, I can only disclose information to immediately family."

"Me," Sam insists. "I'm her immediate family, she's my sister... And I'm also her legal guardian."

The doctor quirks an eyebrow at Sam, "She's in her late twenties."

Sam frowns, crossing his arms over his chest expectantly, "Are you going to tell me how she is or not?"

The doctor's eyes flicker between Sam and Bucky for a moment. He sighs in concession, "The last update I received was about an hour ago, it was touch and go. She lost an extraordinary amount of blood. To be quite frank, I'm shocked she held on as long as she did. Take solace in the fact that your sister is a fighter."

Sam nods, the frown melting off his face back to a concerned, pained expression, "Thank you."

"As soon as I know anything, I'll come find you," the doctor assures before scurrying away. 

Sam trails back to the seat beside Bucky. He slumps down beside Bucky, knowing there was nothing to do but wait.

And wait.

And wait. 

And wait. 

"I didn't think I'd be here again," Sam confesses after a long while. 

They're not sure how much time has passed in silence, all they know is that hope is getting harder to hold onto with the clocking ticking over their heads. Every doctor that passes them is another that reminds them of the doctors working to save your life. They wait with bated breath for anyone to tell them anything. 

"Neither did I."

"She didn't want this life." Sam isn't even sure why he's telling Bucky this. He doesn't know what point he's trying to make. He just knows that right now, there was an immense weight on him that he couldn't carry alone. "Everyone knew it. I knew it. Steve knew it. Tony knew it. Nick Fury knew it. We all knew it. And not one of us ever put a stop to it. And now, now, she just - she doesn't know a life without the next fight around the corner."

"If anyone's been there for her, it's you. Every step of the way. Good, bad, and ugly."

"I was- " Sam's breath wavers, just barely noticeable to even Bucky's super soldier hearing, "I was so concerned with fixing everything, fixing her, that I didn't even stop to ask if she was okay."

Bucky remains silent, pensively staring at his clenched hands. 

"Aren't you going to say something?" Sam urges.

"I don't want to say the wrong thing," Bucky softly mutters. 

"I don't think there's a right or wrong thing to say."

"I feel like a dick," Bucky exhales.

Sam chortles at the brashness of Bucky's words. It was, without a doubt, the wrong thing to say, but there was something oddly comforting about it anyway. "That's definitely not the right thing to say."

"Told you." Bucky allows a beat of silence. He's not sure Sam knows all the ways he screwed up. He's not sure he wants Sam to know how he'd broken your heart. "I just - I keep fucking up, Sam. I messed up. A lot."

"I know," Sam agrees. It surprises Bucky that Sam knows how badly he messed up. There's a part of him that still wonders if Sam really knows everything or if you left out some of Bucky's worst transgressions. He can't imagine that Sam wouldn't have at least tried to kick his ass if he knew about the things he said to you after Tony's funeral. "And I won’t lie, a part of me wants to kick your ass for leaving her like that… But an even bigger part knows it was the right thing. For both of you."

"Both of us?" Bucky questions, finally picking his gaze up off the floor.

"If you hadn’t noticed, she needed to figure out some things for herself. You both did. I know life doesn't give us a lot of guarantees, but you two-"

"Gentleman," a new, different doctor approaches, cutting off Sam. "I was your friend's surgeon tonight."

Sam and Bucky immediately jump to their feet, waiting for their next cue. Would they finally breath that long awaited sigh of relief? Would they dissipate into a puddle of tears like a crumpled up piece of paper? Sam urges with desperation thick in his voice, "And?" 

"And she made it through surgery," the surgeon replies. "It was touch and go for a while. To be quite frank, there were times where we thought we lost her. She lost a tremendous amount of blood tonight. There were extensive internal injuries, but by some stroke of luck, the knife narrowly missed anything that could've done much more permanent damage."

"Can you please just skip to the part where you tell us if she's okay?" Bucky asks through gritted teeth.

The surgeon withers slightly underneath Bucky's intense glare, he nods, "She's in recovery right now. She suffered quite substantial injuries of all different kinds. Frankly, most people wouldn't have made it onto an ambulance. In any other case, I would be very weary about making any promises or guarantees for recovery, but if I were a gambling man, I'd bet on your friend."

Hope swells in Sam's chest for the first time in a very long time. He breathes a sigh of relief, raising his hands on the top of his head as he takes a long, deep breath, "So she's okay?"

"She's very lucky," the surgeon repeats. "Once she's out of recovery, we'll move her to the ICU. You can see her then."

"Thank you."

The doctor takes one singular step before stopping. He softly exhales, and turns around to face Sam and Bucky once more, "And gentlemen? A word of advice?" Sam nods, remaining silent to allow the doctor to continue. "Whatever your friend was doing tonight-"

"I told you, it was a mugging," Bucky interrupts.

The doctor nods, not believing a word of the Bucky's off the cuff cover story. It wasn't a very good cover up, even Bucky could admit that, but his concern upon arrival wasn't creating an elaborate story. No, he'd been far too rattled for that. His one and only concern was you.

"There is no scientific reason that your friend should've survived," the surgeon matter of factly states. "Whatever your friend was doing, it will get her killed. Not tonight, and maybe not tomorrow, but one day. Luck only lasts so long."

A heaviness tugs at Sam's heart as any trace of a smile melts off of his face as the doctor's words sink down to the very pit of Sam's stomach. He nods once more, "Thank you, Doctor."

While they wait, all Bucky and Sam can do is think about what the doctor said. They hated how right the doctor was. They hated how you were never given a choice.

Most of all, they hate the idea that one day you may not get up.

One day, you may not be so lucky.

One day, there would be a goodbye, one final goodbye, a real one. A goodbye that couldn't be taken back.

They weren't ready for that. They wouldn't ever be ready for that.

Sam can't stop thinking about what the doctor said. Not even for one second to rejoice in the fact that you survived. Yes, you survived tonight, but how long before your luck ran out? How long before your own humanity caught up with you? 

You defied all scientific reason. There was no explanation. No rhyme. No reason. Tony Stark and Bruce Banner, two of the greatest scientists to have walked the Earth, found nothing to explain the phenomena of you. There was no reason. Did a bird flap its wings over in Asia? Did some force will you into existence? There was no answer. 

There were others, in the place from before, there were others that didn't survive. You were the lone survivor and no one could figure out how or why. There was no logical reason behind the way you always got back up. Every time, without fail. There was no reason that you lasted as long as you had. The way you got up after every fight, every battle, every loss, defied all expectation, defied everything known and then some. 

But more than any of that, you were a person.

And there would be no other you. That much was clear - both to Bucky and Sam. There would never be a person that could do what you did. No person with the spirit, the heart, the goodness within them. 

You weren't a scientific anomaly. Not some experiment. Not a weapon or a political pawn. Just a person.

Through it all, Sam never lost sight of that. He knew down to the depths of his bones that you never wanted this. You held your head high, fought with honor and dignity. None of it changed that this was not the life you wanted. You loved your found family. You loved Nick Fury. Steve Rogers. Tony Stark. Natasha Romanoff. The list went on and on of the reasons why you stayed. 

And still, given the choice, he knows you'd give it up for a quiet life. For a life spent by the garden, soaking up the sun, life without constantly looking over your shoulder. For a life of peace. 

Not that anyone asked you what you wanted. It was never a choice placed in your hands. You both were acutely aware of that.

Your future hadn't been yours in quite some time. Your dreams. Your hopes. Your aspirations. Over the years, they'd been lost, scattered and abandoned on the path to becoming a hero. 

No, no one asked you what you wanted. But the worst part by far, the part that left Sam reeling and wondering, was when, or even why, he stopped asking you that too? His jaw tenses, his teeth painfully grinding together as he combs through his memory trying to remember the point that he gave up on your future too.

He couldn't remember the last time he asked you what you wanted, what you envisioned your life to be like. 

"Gentlemen?" Their heads snap up. A nurse stands before the two of them, she warmly smiles at Sam and Bucky, "Your friend is out of recovery. She isn't awake quite yet, but if you'd like to see her, I can take you." 

"Yes, please," Bucky hoarsely whispers, his voice breaking with despair. 

The nurse moves quickly, guiding and aiming them through the labyrinth of hospital corridors. Flashes of the night come to Sam with each and every turn in the winding corridors. Before Sam can get sucked into his own memory, a familiar voice echoes through the halls, sending chills down Sam's spine. 

He stands taller, moving faster as the nurse's pace quickens to find the source of the altercation. Sam's face blanches, a fresh wave of dread washing over him. He looks over to Bucky who wears a similar stunned expression. It truly was the night that wouldn't end for either of them. 

"This is a hospital," a receptionist insists, standing beside a security guard who looks entirely out of his element as SWORD agents rummage through the receptionist's desk. "You can't just-"

"Would you like to be charged with obstruction of justice tonight?" the familiar voice threatens. 

The receptionist doesn't shrink under the intense scrutiny nor the SWORD agents tearing up her desk for information, "This is an intensive care unit. You cannot-"

"Sam..." Bucky warns the moment that he sees the source of the familiar voice. 

"We've got the room number, General," a SWORD agent announces. 

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," Sam hisses under his breath, biting back the string of curses that bubble from his mouth.

"How much trouble do you think I'd get in for killing him?" Bucky questions, his tone so clear and sharp that Sam can't be sure Bucky isn't actively planning a murder in his head.

"A lot," Sam easily replies. 

Bucky's eyes flicker between the three corridors that all lead into this main room. All perfect for an escape if he did end up killing General Ross tonight. "It'd be worth it."

"Yes, it would," Sam blankly mutters, staring at the man that sent your life spiraling all those years ago. General Ross. In the flesh. Standing before the receptionist's desk, with SWORD agents flanking his sides. Sam briskly strides over, wedging himself in between General Ross and the corridor to your room, "General Ross, something tells me you're not here to drop off flowers."

General Ross deeply inhales, his face as stoic and unimpressed as ever, "Step aside, Wilson."

"Do you wanna do this here?" Sam wonders, gesturing to the room filled with nurses, receptionists, and dozens of other civilians walking through the recovery wing. "Awful lot of witnesses for SWORD to take care of."

"We are well within our jurisdiction."

"Sentient Weapon Observation and Response Division," Sam states, tilting his head slightly. "Last I checked, she wasn't a sentient weapon, General."

The General quirks a challenging eyebrow. "Check again."

"You wanna say that again?" Bucky sharply threatens, taking a long step forward, stepping right in the General's face. 

"You know the rules, Wilson," Ross states, ignoring Bucky all together. "Your flagrant violation of them only proves what I knew six months ago, the Asset is a danger to herself and to the general public. We'll be taking over from here."

"She has a name," Bucky seethes, Sam's extended arm the only thing holding him back from lunging at General Ross. There's an anger that simmers beneath his skin. You weren't even awake, not even conscious yet, and you were once again fighting for your life without even knowing it. He remembers that night in Latvia. The night he stitched you up. You begged him - no doctors, no hospitals. You were right. You were so entirely right. Not even at your most vulnerable, in your least threatening state, would they ever let you have peace. Even on the brink of death, they didn't care. They would do what it took. 

General Ross' eyes flicker between Sam and Bucky, "I warned you both that this would happen. She can't help herself, can she?"

"She just saved New York and stopped the Flag Smashers," Bucky speaks firmly, his voice harsh and unwavering. "Something you wouldn't know anything about."

"I'd watch your mouth, Sergeant." General Ross' eyes snap over to Bucky, "You're lucky I'm not throwing you both in cuffs too."

"For what?" Sam demands.

"Aiding and abetting."

"We aren't fugitives," Sam counters.

"Karli Morgenthau certainly is," General Ross shoots back. 

"I don't know where Karli Morgenthau is."

General Ross scoffs in disbelief, "You really expect me to believe that?"

"It's the truth," Sam emphasizes. He throws his hands up in frustration, "Do you honestly think I would help Karli Morgenthau in any way, shape, or form after almost killing her? Do you think I want anything to do with her or any of the Flag Smashers?"

"The rest are dead, Wilson," General Ross states, dropping the bombshell like he's telling them that the sky is blue. 

Sam inhales in shock, "What?"

"The Flag Smashers. Every enhanced individual - except the Asset and Karli Morgenthau."

Sam's spine stiffens, standing up taller as the weight of the revelation settles over him. Yes, they were misguided, but they were people. People that you believed could be more than what they were told they were. "How?"

"En route to the Raft," the General answers. "A detonator controlled from a remote location." 

"And let me guess, you can't find the remote location?" Bucky guesses, quirking a knowing eyebrow at the General, his arms still crossed across his chest.

General Ross looks to Sam with an imploring look, the sharpness in his tone drops, "Can you really keep her safe? Both of them safe?"

Sam's eyes flicker up, rage lighting up his entire expression, "You want to talk about safety when they died in your custody?" 

"Where is she, Sam? Before you get the both of them killed," General Ross sharply orders. "You can't keep them safe. You can't keep her safe."

"You don't know anything," Sam remarks, emphasizing each and every syllable. "About any of us."

"If you could, if you could truly protect her, she wouldn't be lying there half dead."

Sam sucks in a breath like he's been punched in the gut. The words hit him hard. It's only Bucky's rooted stance that keeps them from steamrolling over the two of them. 

"Excuse me? If I may-" an unfamiliar voice interrupts, both Sam and Bucky too enthralled in their argument with General Ross to have noticed the man insert himself in their heated discussion. 

"Hold on," Sam curtly interrupts, cutting the man in the red tinted glasses off. Neither Sam nor Bucky spare a second glance to the man in the suit and tie, holding a briefcase tight in his hand. "Let's not pretend that you're suddenly concerned about the health and well being of anyone other than yourself, General. You want control. You want power."

"I want order," General Ross retorts. "Something you and The Asset have no interest in keeping. Tell me where Morgenthau is. Now."

"General Ross, is it?" the unknown man pivots, turning to face General Ross. "I think my client has made it abundantly clear that he's unaware of Karli Morgenthau's whereabouts. Perhaps sending your henchman to actually search for her would be a more fruitful use of your time."

"Your client?" Sam repeats, his head snapping over to look at the lawyer. 

"Client?" General Ross guffaws, his eyes snap back over to Sam, glaring at him, "A lawyer, Wilson? Do you think there's a lawyer good enough to get the three of you out of this mess? There's not a lawyer in the world that could get that criminal off the hook after what she did tonight."

"And do you think there's a jury in the world that would convict that hero in there after she single-handedly saved New York? After she stopped the Flag Smashers?" the lawyer counters, pointing in the direction of your room. He turns to Sam with an expectant look, "How many truck fulls of GRC members did my client single-handedly save tonight?"

"3," Sam chokes out, sharing an uneasy look with Bucky.

"3 trucks filled with people whose lives were save by the person you're so desperately trying to imprison. 3 trucks filled with people that I can guarantee are feeling especially gracious right now."

"She broke the law," General Ross fumes, lowering his tone to something more cold and calculating. "She knew that the second she stepped foot back in New York."

"There's not a jury in New York that would convict that woman in there," the lawyer matter of factly remarks. "You have the Accords - and that's all you have, General."

"You think I need a jury?" General Ross questions. 

"Careful, General," the lawyer warns, his voice eerily calm and composed. "You're treading some very dangerous waters there."

General Ross takes a singular step toward the lawyer, this time, speaking only to him, "You do not want to make an enemy of me."

"Funny, I was going to say the same thing," the lawyer cooly retorts. "Unless you have a warrant, or my client is actually being charged with something, we're done here, General."

"Is this how you want to play this, Sam?" General Ross asks, turning back to Sam. There's a look in the General's face that tells Sam everything he needs to know, this wasn't going to end without a fight. A fight Sam had fought before and lost. Sam's eyes flicker between Ross and the unknown lawyer, a person whose name he didn't even know. Did he want to put your future into the hands of a stranger? Was General Ross right, was there even a person on this earth that could change your story's ending? What other choice did Sam have? To give up on your life without so much as a fight? Seeing the conflict warring in Sam's eyes, General Ross seizes the opportunity to tip the scale in his favor, to pour another helping of salt on Sam's fresh wounds, "I can guarantee you won't like the outcome, Wilson. You haven't in the past."

In that moment, Sam decides. You hadn't let him down. Not once. Not even when you were off fighting your own internal battles. You've always had his back. Now, it's his turn to do the same. He decides to bet on you one more time, "Have a good night, General."

A look of burning rage flashes across General Ross' face before it steels into something much more sinister. His shoulders roll back. He stands tall, looming over the three men.

And with one final verbal jab, General Ross turns on his heels, and leaves them in the wake of a first battle won, but a war just beginning, "Don't say I didn't warn you."

"What just happened?" Sam exhales with a long breath.

"The court of public opinion," the lawyer cryptically responds. He turns toward Sam and Bucky, "It wouldn't be a good look to arrest someone who was critically injured while saving the city, but this won't end here. We won the battle, but the war isn't going to be as easy. General Ross is tenacious, I'll give him that. He knows what he wants and he's not going to stop until he's got his prized possession back under his thumb. You're going to need a really good lawyer."

"Well, um, not to ruin this whole moment, but who the hell are you?"

"A really good lawyer." The lawyer extends a hand out to Sam, then to Bucky, "My name is Matt, Matt Murdock, a friend thought you might need some help."

Sam quirks an eyebrow, his mouth twisting with unease, "A friend?"

"A friend," Matt repeats, his way of politely telling them that he wasn't going to divulge anything about the mysterious mutual friend that sent him.

Sam turns back to his seat, plopping down onto the hard plastic as he tenderly rubs his temples, "I just want this night to be over."

"And it will be soon," Matt promises, folding up his white mobility cane and taking the seat beside Sam. He speaks softly, but with a firmness that tells Sam how dire the situation is. "But this is only going to get worse. It's going to get ugly before it gets any better."

"I don't think it can get any worse," Sam remarks.

"It can," Matt retorts. "General Ross isn't going to go search for Karli, that's not his concern right now. Right now, he's going to use the chaos of tonight to figure out how to win. I wouldn't underestimate how far he'll take this. He's a force to be reckoned with, but so are you."

"We've fought this fight before. We lost the last time."

"You didn't have me last time."

Sam turns to face Matt, "Do you really think you can win?"

"Yes, I do," Matt insists. "At some point, General Ross lost control of the most powerful tool at his disposal. There's no regaining that control - not after tonight."

"What do you mean?" Bucky wonders, still not quite trusting the man seated before him.

"Your friend made quite the splash tonight," Matt explains. "There's videos circulating everywhere. She's the hero the city was waiting for."

"No, she's not," Sam immediately denies.

"Mr. Wilson-"

"Sam," Sam corrects. 

"Sam-"

"She's not the hero the city was waiting for," Sam forcefully continues. He didn't expect Matt Murdock to understand why his offense to the statement. You weren't the hero. You spent years being the hero and he wasn't about to sign you up for yet another fight. Not this time. "She's a person. A person that is tired of fighting. She's tired. We almost lost her tonight. I'm not signing her up for another fight."

"I can understand that - so ask her."

Sam falters at Matt's suggestion. He was the first person, aside from Sam and Bucky, in a very, very long time to suggest that you should get to choose what should become of your life. "You - you want me to ask her?"

"It is her life, after all. If she says yes, I'll do everything I can help you win."

"And if she says no?"

"Then I'll do everything in my power to make sure she gets off Ross' radar."

And perhaps, Karli was right about him. Perhaps Sam was an optimistic fool. But those words tell Sam everything that he needs to know. He knows that he can trust Matt Murdock with his life. He can trust him with you. "Okay."

"So why don't we start at the beginning? From the moment General Ross lost control."

Sam sighs, rewinding back to the moment that General Ross lost you for good. The airport. It wasn't the first time you'd stepped out of line, but it was the first time you'd ever gone against direct orders. It was the first time you'd ever told him no. The ripples of that day were still felt to this very day. "It'll always come back to that day at the airport, won't it?"

"The airport?" Matt asks. 

"It's a long story," Sam answers, but before he delves back into your long history, he turns to Bucky who'd stood before them staring at your door with anxiety and longing practically rolling off of him with a soft smile, "Hey, Bucky? Why don't you go in? One of us should be there when she wakes up."

Bucky nods, giving Sam a slight smile of gratitude, "Thanks."

The Twin Flame Chapter List AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

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[donottouchredbutton]

In a Heartbeat

joaquin torres x sunshine!reader/ofc

4k words

she saves someone, and joaquin saves her.

moodboard

note: i wrote this with my oc in mind that i plan to write more about, but i wanted it to be read as a reader insert as well! let me know what you think :)

She had been living in Washington DC for a little over a year now. She moved there for grad school, and some of the excitement had yet to wear off still. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, with all of the good schools nearby and all of the things to do and learn in the capital. It seemed like a busy enough place to never be bored, which was exactly what she wanted. It really had seemed like a smart idea, especially since she hadn’t had any problems since moving there.

Until she did.

She was out with her roommate after classes had ended for the day, enjoying the warm spring day and simply happy to be people watching as they hung out. It had quickly become one of her favorite things since moving there, something she shared with her roommate, Jasmine. She was always glad she and Jazzy got along so well and liked spending time together, often spending time just being out and about like today. 

Jazzy was showing her a small outdoor shopping district just outside of a park. It must’ve been really popular because it was packed with people. People were out walking their dogs, parents were out shopping with their kids, couples and friends were on dates and lounging on the grassy areas. Music was coming from the open doors of one of the stores, loud enough to carry even as you walked away from it. Something smelled good, like fresh bread and cinnamon sugar, and she wanted to follow her nose to figure out where it was coming from. There was a warm breeze that made her shiver whenever they walked in the shade, so she pulled Jazzy away to make sure they stayed in the sun. A few kids ran past them playing tag. It made her smile, she hoped they were having fun. 

She was pulled out of her thoughts when she noticed a bit of commotion going on. She couldn’t tell where it was coming from, but it was progressively getting louder. From the looks of it, she wasn’t the only one who had noticed as many of the people nearby were looking around as well. It continued to grow louder and louder until she spotted a large group of people running in their direction, all shouting and screaming to get away. A ways behind them, she spotted a group of big looking men in scary looking masks carrying scary looking weapons, all running after them with their weapons pointed forward. Before she could think about how cliche that sounded, she knew they had to get away first. Many people around them were coming to the same conclusion as they all began turning tail and running. She and Jazzy shared a look of understanding before following suit.

As everyone kept running away and the noise was getting louder, another noise caught her attention above all the commotion. She could just barely hear a small voice calling for help, but it was loud enough to get her to stop running. Her head whipped around trying to find whoever it was, wherever it was coming from. Her eyes landed on a little girl sitting on the ground holding a little boy, and even from her distance she could see they were crying.

“MOMMY!” the little girl kept shouting, tears running down her face as she tried to pull the little boy up with her. They had to be brother and sister. She sounded terrified.

She took off before she could think about what she was doing. She could vaguely hear Jazzy calling after her, trying to get her to turn around and come back, but she couldn’t. The only thing on her mind was getting to those kids before they could get hurt. She wouldn’t let that happen.

She slid to a stop and knelt down next to the kids when she got to them, unconcerned about the fact that she tore a hole in her jeans by doing so, nor the bruises and scrapes she no doubt would have on her knees either. The little girl, maybe seven or eight, kept pulling on her brother’s arm trying to get him to move, but he was sat on the ground firmly, bawling his eyes out and refusing to move. She knew he couldn’t have been older than three years old. 

She looked around for anyone who could have been their mother, anyone willing to help, but everyone was running in the opposite direction. She turned her head to see the group of men getting closer and closer, and they were gaining fast. She was the only one around.

“I need to get you out of here,” she said, turning back to the two kids, voice urgent. “I’ll get you back to your mom, I promise.”

She tried to pick up the little boy, who immediately started shouting and fighting when she did so. He was on the verge of a full-blown breakdown, determined to stay exactly where he was no matter what she did. 

“He won’t let anyone but mom pick him up,” the little girl cried, “but I don’t know where mommy is!”

Seeing how frightened they were broke her heart. There was no getting them to move if she couldn’t pick the little boy up, but she couldn’t just leave them. She wouldn’t. She didn’t know what to do, and she was struggling to come up with something fast enough. With another glance over her shoulder, she realized she was out of time. They were too close now, seconds away and coming right towards them. 

“Hold onto him, and don’t let go!” she ordered the girl. Once the girl did as she said, she grabbed both of the kids and held them to her chest, making sure neither of them would get hit as she awaited the inevitable first—and what she expected to be the final—blow to hit. 

She felt a strong gust of air rush over her head, and at the sound of a fight right behind her, she held on tighter to the kids in her arms. She knew this was it. In a heartbeat, it’d be finished. She’d be finished. 

“Are you okay?”

The voice was closer than she expected, making her jump, but it sounded genuinely concerned. Chancing a glance behind her, she was met with a pair of soft brown eyes. 

She looked past the man to see what was going on, only just noticing that the commotion had stopped, and she could see that the group of men were all lying on the ground unconscious with a man holding a shield standing above them. Everyone knew who Captain America was, but she never expected to come across him herself. Knowing that the kids would be safe now, she looked back to the man in front of her and was shocked to see he had a pair of wings on his back. The Falcon. They were positioned in a way that was meant to shield them from any danger. 

She finally looked back at the Falcon. His eyes hadn’t left her the entire time, and he stayed put in front of them, as if he wanted to make sure nothing could happen to them even with the threat gone. 

Instead of answering the man, she turned back to the kids in her arms. They were still crying and scared, she knew they would be, but at least she knew they would be safe now. She scanned over them for any injuries, and once she knew they were unharmed, she cupped the little girl’s face to get her attention. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s okay now. You’re safe,” she assured her, speaking softly to help her calm down a bit. She stroked her cheek to gently wipe away her tears. She felt her own heart beating out of her chest, but she couldn’t focus on that right now. “I’m gonna get you back to your mom now, okay? Let’s go find your mom.” 

She glanced back at the man behind her again, who still hadn’t moved, before she eased the kids up into standing. The weight of the situation was finally catching up to her, her head swimming as she tried her hardest to focus on getting the kids back to their mom before anything else. She kept looking between them and the man who saved them. Stuttering, she said, “I… I need-”

“MOMMY!” the little girl called, grabbing her brother’s hand and running to meet the woman who was running towards them. 

She watched as the older woman dropped to her knees to meet her children in an embrace, her own tears streaming down her face as she held her children to her chest. The woman began kissing all over their faces and on the tops of their heads, and the woman’s voice was just loud enough for her to hear her repeating my babies to the children in her arms.

She was walking towards the family before she knew what she was doing. Her knees were screaming at her causing her to limp slightly, but she didn’t care. She needed to make sure they would be okay. Once she was close enough, the woman looked up at her and a look of gratitude crossed her face. 

“Thank you,” the woman managed to say through her tears. “Thank you for protecting my babies.” For a moment, she thought the woman was talking to the Falcon, the one who actually had saved her kids, but the woman was looking at her. 

“You don’t…” she started, beginning to shake her head, but she knew it would be pointless. Instead, she said, “I’m just glad you and your kids are safe.” 

She watched them a few more moments before the woman gathered her kids up and hurried away from the scene. She couldn’t blame them, she wanted to do the same. 

She suddenly remembered the man who had saved them. The Falcon (she couldn’t get over it). She turned back towards him, and this time she really took him in. His wings had retracted back into his suit, thankfully, as they had been very distracting. He was tall without being towering. His skin looked warm and sun-kissed with sharp cheekbones that made her wonder what he looked like when he smiled. He had a head of short, curly black hair, and those soft brown eyes. Those eyes that were still watching, a strange gleam present that hadn’t been there before. 

She didn’t really know what to say, feeling awkward, but she didn’t need to. Before she could even thank him, he spoke instead.

“Are you okay?” he asked again. Something told her that he wouldn’t leave until he knew she was.

“I’m fine,” she finally answered. She didn’t know if she was telling the truth or not, but she still wasn’t able to focus on how she really felt. The kids were safe, their mother was safe, and as far as she was concerned, that’s all that mattered. And this man made sure of that. “Thank you.”

The man seemed to relax a bit at that, his shoulders losing some of their tension. He opened his mouth to say something else, but another voice cut in. 

“Torres! We gotta go, man!” 

It was Captain America who interrupted (which was something she never thought she’d experience), having just been talking with the police who she hadn’t noticed had arrived. They were hauling the men—masks gone and in handcuffs now—into the backs of the police cars. The hero was inspecting their weapons, clearly waiting for the other man—Torres, apparently—to join back up with him. Torres looked between the two of them, seeming conflicted. Before either of them could say anything, they were once again interrupted. 

The sound of Jazzy calling her name snapped her out of whatever was going on, and she turned to see her roommate running straight towards her. Before she could comprehend what was going on, Jazzy was grabbing her arm and pulling her away, determined to get them away from anything else that might happen. She looked back at the man, Torres, and called out another thank you! before she let her roommate lead her away from the scene. 

—

In truth, she didn’t think she would ever see him again. Why would she? He was The Falcon, Captain America’s partner and a superhero in his own right. He had to have saved countless people all the time. He probably wasn’t even in DC anymore. There was no way she would see him again. 

But then she did. 

She volunteered at a local elementary school, and today they were taking the fifth graders down to the veterans rehabilitation center. They liked to decorate the walls with pictures and bring flowers for the veterans, wanting to try to brighten their days a bit and thank them for their service while doing so, and she liked being part of it as well. She couldn’t imagine what some of them have gone through, but she would sometimes sit in on the group sessions to try to understand more. It was why she made sure to take the kids there at least once every couple weeks.

“It was so nice seeing you and the kids again, sunshine!” the kind lady at the front desk said as she was getting them ready to leave. It was a nickname she had quickly picked up since they started going there, and it always made her laugh.

“Of course, Laura!” she replied. “I’m just glad they like coming down here as much as I do.”

Laura chuckled lowly. “Your visits always make everyones day. They may not say it often, but they appreciate it. More than you know.”

She smiled softly at that. “We try our best. We just want to show our respect and try to brighten things up for everyone, you know?”

“Don’t sell yourself short, hun. What you do with the kids and for everyone here, not many people would do it. We all appreciate everything you do around here. We appreciate you.”

She looked down bashfully at the older woman’s kind words. She never really knew what to say to that. Her eyes flicked back up to Laura. “Oh, I almost forgot!” She reached into her bag and pulled out a small bin. “I know you’ve been wanting to try Jazzy’s brownies.”

The wide grin that appeared on Laura’s face was enough for one to form on her’s as well. She nearly snatched the bin out of her hand, causing her to laugh. “You spoil me, sunshine!”

The two shared a few more words before she checked the time, knowing she needed to leave soon if she didn’t want the bus to leave without her. She said goodbye to Laura with a promise to be back the next week, and the other woman jokingly promised to be ready for more treats. With a wave and another smile to her friend, she began making her way to the front doors. She was in high spirits as she was preparing to leave, paying no mind to the man she passed on her way out until he called out to her. 

“Hey, it’s you!”

She almost didn’t stop, but when she looked around the area and saw it was mostly void of people, she figured it was her he was trying to get the attention of. When she stopped and turned around, her eyes widened when they met the same soft brown ones she first saw just the other day. 

“It’s you,” she repeated, not knowing what to say.

For a moment, she wondered how she could even miss him. Sure, he wasn’t wearing his suit or his wings and seemed, therefore, much less intimidating–not that he seemed intimidating in the first place, but he did save her life, and there’s just something about meeting a superhero face to face that makes a person feel overly self-aware. Without the suit on, you wouldn’t even assume he was a superhero, though in her head she was kicking herself because of course that was the point. He just seemed so normal, and she felt like she could pay more attention now that her life wasn’t on the line. He wore a dark green jacket over a black shirt and jeans, a pair of sunglasses hanging from one of the pockets. His shoulders filled out his jacket well, subtly showing off his built but lean muscles. Part of her wished she could remember what they looked like in his suit when they were more noticeable, and she mentally kicked herself again for thinking that about a complete stranger. His dark curls were styled simply and looked soft to the touch, and she was sure they were. 

Those eyes, though. Unlike before, his soft eyes were looking at her in pleasant surprise rather than concern, his lips quirking up in what was almost a smile. But that weird gleam she saw before was still there, and if anything, it was much more apparent than before.

It took her a few more seconds to realize neither one of them had said anything, her eyes glancing off to the side as her mind raced for something to say. He must’ve realized the same thing because his eyes widened suddenly, taking a step toward her once he knew he had her attention. 

“Sorry, um,” he began, searching for his words, “I just didn’t think I’d ever see you again, but I’m glad I did. How are you doing, after what happened?”

Her eyes widened slightly again, surprised by his words. “I-I’m doing fine,” she answered, but she wasn’t sure how much she believed herself. She added, “‘ve just been trying to get back to normal, is all.”

He seemed satisfied enough with her answer and started to nod, a small smile playing on his lips. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

His words surprised her again. In a burst of confidence, she replied with, “Well, I did have someone to save me.”

His smile grew as he looked down sheepishly, and she thought she heard him say just doing my job under his breath. When he looked back up at her, she thought she liked seeing that gleam in his eyes, especially when he smiled. She thought happiness looked good on him.

“What are you doing here?” she asked gently, suddenly remembering where she still was. 

“Oh, I’m here to meet my partner,” he answered. “He helps out with the counseling sessions when he can. But I’ve got some information I need to discuss with Cap.”

Somehow, it didn’t surprise her to hear that about Captain America. In fact, it made her respect him even more for trying to help people on a more personal level, not just fighting as a superhero. Saving lives on all fronts, she was sure. But the way he talked about why he was there was just vague enough to pique her interest, and just telling enough for her to understand she shouldn’t pry. She was going to find a way to politely remove herself from the conversation, but he spoke again before she could.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, repeating her own question. He cringed at the way it came out, so he quickly added, “I just mean, this is the last place I expected to see you. Are you in the military?”

She shook her head, nearly chuckling. “No, I’m not. The school I volunteer at brings some of the older students down here every few weeks. We like to bring flowers and write cards, you know, to try to show our respect and appreciation. Try to brighten up people’s days where we can.”

“You do all this?” He asked, gesturing toward the decorations on the walls and the flowers here and there. His eyes had widened in surprise again, and it was her turn to look down bashfully this time. 

“Not just me. It’s the kids, mostly, but I like to help out.”

He looked impressed, and something about the look on his face and those damn eyes caused her face to heat up. She wasn’t used to this kind of attention. 

“Well, I can confidently say that I’m not the only one around here who loves seeing all of the notes and decorations,” he said softly, the smile on his face filling her with a sense of warmth she hadn’t felt before. “It’s amazing what you’ve been doing. We all appreciate what you do. And the kids, of course.”

Something told her that he was speaking more for himself than he was for everyone else, and somehow she knew that he meant it toward her directly. The thought made her smile.

His face suddenly got more serious, though, instantly making her feel nervous. “What you did the other day, with those two kids, too. That was amazing.”

That was not something she was expecting, and she definitely didn’t know how to respond to it. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked down, suddenly feeling shy. “I did what anyone would do.”

But he was already shaking his head. “No, really. You saved those kids. I may be the one with wings, but you’re the real hero. It was incredible.”

When she glanced back up at him, she saw that a small smile had reappeared on his lips, and somehow, it was enough to ease some of the tension in her shoulders. It was enough to comfort her in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time, and it made her feel seen in a way she never had. All with one look, which is what really surprised her. She knew deflecting would be useless, so she settled with telling him, barely loud enough for him to hear, “Thank you.” And she meant it more than he knew.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked one final time.

She wanted to laugh that he wouldn’t let it go so easily. “I am, or I will be. I promise,” she answered, and she knew she was telling the truth this time. “Besides, this wouldn’t be my first time in a situation like that, and I’m sure it won’t be my last.” Now that got a good reaction out of him, even though it was the truth.

“Speaking of the kids, though,” she said before he could think about it too much, checking the time again and realizing she’d officially run out of time, “I have to get going so I don’t get left behind.” She looked him over one more time, trying to memorize as much as she could, before she began to turn away. “It was nice to see you again, and to talk. And thank you, again, for saving me.”

His smile warmed her from the inside out. “If it meant getting to see you again, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

She forced herself not to shudder before turning around. She had only made it a few more steps before he suddenly stopped her again. 

“Wait!” he called, almost too loudly for the quiet hallway. “I didn’t ever get your name!”

She wanted to kick herself again. How had they gone this entire conversation without learning each other’s names? She glanced back over her shoulder, seeing that he had barely moved from his spot. With a warm smile directed at him, she told him her name.

Another smile began to form on his face in return, and it looked like he repeated her name under his breath. Their eyes met a final time before he responded with his own. “I’m Joaquin. It was really nice to meet you, too.”

She turned around before he could catch the wide grin that was beginning to form on her face against her will and tried to rush out of there as subtly as she could. As she went, she could just hear him, Joaquin, repeat her name a second time, and even from where she was she could hear a smile in his tone. She left the building with a bounce in her step and a warm feeling in her chest. 

All because of the Falcon who saved her.

#joaquin torres #joaquín torres #joaquin torres x reader #joaquín torres x reader #joaquín torres imagine #joaquin torres imagine #tfatws #danny ramirez #joaquin torres x ofc #joaquín torres x ofc #the falcon and the winter soldier #marvel fanfic #tfatws fic #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #marvel reader insert #marvel oc #tfatws fanfic

[rqgnarok]

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.!

<3

#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

[akire-echo]

The Lodger-Chapter 1

(My first Bucky fic! Un-beta’d, my mistakes are my own. It shall be a multi-chapter fic, warnings will appear before every chapter but it’s mostly just fluff. Please Enjoy!)

Fic Synopsis: After the events of TFATWS, Bucky is just looking for something normal, something familiar. Will he find that by renting a room in a Brooklyn townhouse?

Reader was just looking for someone reliable and trustworthy to rent out the room that’d been vacant for far too long. The last thing that she ever expected was an Avenger, especially one who was so good with her son.

Sunlight filtered in through the gap in the curtains cascading over the long unused furniture. Dust particles danced along the soft sunbeams, a reminder of just how long it had been. For six months the spare room in your house had gone vacant. It was closer to seven by the time you’d realized it. In your opinion, the room was a steal. The price point was fairly reasonable, given what you were offering versus other properties in the area. But for some reason you weren’t able to keep it rented for more than a few week or so, each lodger only using it for a transition space and some of them stiffed you on the rent. It wasn’t the price, it certainly wasn’t the look of the place.

For a moment you thought it was the other house occupant who was causing the problems but for the life of you, you couldn’t dare blame him. After all, he was your son. Max was a precocious and inquisitive 8 year old, with a love of space and all things cosmic. He might’ve been a little chatty with the lodgers but never annoyingly so. He knew when someone wasn’t interested in conversation and respected their boundaries. You’d taught him well and were proud of him. He definitely wasn’t the problem.

Yet, the room remained unoccupied.

You weren’t sure how long you could keep the house if the room wasn’t brining in revenue, eventually you’d have to sell and move somewhere else. You really didn’t want to do that. You didn’t want to leave the beautiful townhouse your late husband had chosen with you, it held too many wonderful memories that you couldn’t imagine parting with. You could only wait and pray for the right person to fill the vacancy in your home.

With a sigh you closed the door and prayed to the universe for someone good to see the sign in the window.

——————————————————————

He let out a sigh as he closed the door to his apartment. He’d chosen it for the location more than anything, somewhere near where he used to live. He could afford it but it just wasn’t the same as he remembered. The city itself wasn’t the same anymore, but he knew it wouldn’t be. Too much time had passed and he no longer recognized Brooklyn anymore. He thought the problem was the busier parts of the city, there were just too many people now and threats felt like they were everywhere. He couldn’t relax enough to not be on guard at all times.

Instead of staying close to the main hub he ventured further out to more suburban areas, hoping to find something different. A place to really call home in this century.

He walked for quite some time rather aimlessly, wondering if there would ever be a place that would feel like he wanted it to. It would be nearly impossibly in this day and age to find somewhere with actual postings. Most things like this happened on the internet, according to Sam. Finding one in real life was highly unlikely.

He considered turning back, heading to his empty apartment until he came upon a small townhouse. It was a beautiful building in a quieter part of Brooklyn. His Ma would’ve never been able to afford a place like that back in the day, that’s for sure. Especially not with the wonderful way the lush ivy draped over it. The brickwork was even in pristine condition, honestly it was a gorgeous house.

As he observed and appraised the building, the most amazing thing happened. In the bottom window was a neat sign in cursive writing.

“Room for Rent. Serious inquiries only.”

There was a number underneath and for some reason Bucky wanted nothing more than to call it immediately. He could envision himself in a quaint home like that, somewhere not too close to the city but close enough. What were the chances they would accept him as a tenant? Most people were scared of him, or rather the person they thought he was. Still, he wrote the number down. It wouldn’t hurt to try…right?

——————————————————————

Your phone rang as you stirred dinner.

“Max, can you keep an eye on the soup while I get this?” You asked your son, who was sitting at the table finishing his homework. He nodded and got up, taking the spoon from you. He smiled at the contents of the pot, his favourite soup that he’d been smelling since he got home.

The number on your phone was local but unknown, most likely an inquiry for the room. You sent a silent prayer to whatever deity could help you with this before picking up the call.

“Hello?” You asked, hopeful.

“H-hi hello,” A distinct and deep male voice said back. “I am calling about the room for rent? Is-is it still available?”

“It is.” You said calmly, even though you were too excited that you had an actual inquiry. “Are you interested in seeing the place before you commit?”

“I-yes.” He said back, sounding nervous. “Is that okay?”

“Of course! I work from home so whenever works for you. Any day between 9-2 would work for me, except weekends.”

“Oh I uh…yeah, does tomorrow work?”

So soon? He must really need a place. Hopefully he wasn’t a bad person, you couldn’t have that around Max.

“Yeah, you know the address so just give me a time.”

“Noon?”

“Sounds good. I’m Y/N, by the way.” You said.

“I’m Bu-James, I’m James.”

You nodded at the name. “Well, I will see you tomorrow, James.

“See you then.”

He hung up and you looked to your son, who was now nearly drooling over the soup.

You shook your head and chuckled.

“Give me that, weirdo.”

He laughed. “Can’t help it Ma, your French onion is the best!”

The comment warmed your heart as you wrapped your arms around him. It was his Dad’s favourite too.

“Well then, we should finish it and get it in your belly. Whatcha think?”

“Yes please!”

You kissed the top of his head before checking the thickness of the soup.

“You’re in luck! It’s done.”

Max clapped happily and got out the bowls, waiting to be served. He took his hot bowl to the table carefully, eager to eat. You watched him fondly as he tasted that first spoonful. Letting out a noise of happiness, he began eating with gusto.

You couldn’t help think about the lodger, would he fit in with what you had here or would he just be another person who kept to themselves? Would he even want to be in the place?

You’d just have to wait and see.

——————————————————————

Bucky was nervous. He hadn’t been nervous just to look at a place since the first time out of cryo. He really needed this place, he just hoped he would be accepted, he didn’t even care what the interior looked like. As long as it had a locking door and they didn’t mind his nightmares, it would be ideal. Maybe even perfect. He adjusted his stupid tie, the one that Sam insisted he wear. But he felt so stupid, his hair was even slicked down a bit, like the old days. It made him look professional but again, didn’t help him feel less like a fool. He rung the doorbell, hearing it not fully ring the whole way.

“Coming!” A voice said from behind the wood.

He tried not to let his heart beat too fast, but the female voice from over the phone sounded so warm that previous day. He was wondering what kind of person she would be.The door opened and he was floored, the most beautiful dame he’d seen in a long time was standing in front of him. He’d seen many beautiful women before but the one now standing on the other side of the door put them all to shame, effortlessly so.

“James?” She asked after a moment, breaking him from his thoughts. He was there to see a room, not ogle a stranger.

He coughed. “Yes, that’s me.”

“Come on in.” She stepped aside, making enough room for him.

He gulped and made himself as small as possible, entering her home.

——————————————————————

You weren’t sure what you were expecting when you thought of the potential lodger, but it was certainly not him. James was an extremely handsome man with the brightest blue eyes you’d ever seen. His chocolate brown hair looked to have been styled haphazardly but it suited him quite well. He seemed to be made of solid muscle but was purposefully hunched over to seem small. He was trying to make you feel comfortable, and you appreciated it.As he walked past you into the hallway, you could smell the scent of him and damn if it wasn’t completely intoxicating. It’d been a while since you’d interacted with any man, let alone one as attractive as James.

You cleared your throat to stop thinking about it, to maintain some sort of professionalism. “So, uh, the room is this way. It does have a separate entrance which is very secure.” You explained.

He nodded and followed you to the extra room.You opened the door with a key and showed him.

The room itself was already furnished, as you’d hoped it would attract renters. It used to be your husband’s home office, but you’d converted it after he had died. You needed the extra income. It had its own ensuite bathroom for convenience and had good access to the kitchen without traipsing through the entire house.

“You can go in if you’d like.” You prompted.

He nodded and walked in, eyes searching around the space.

“How…how soundproof is the room?”

You were a little nervous at the question, unsure of what to answer. Was he a big partier?

“It’s just that I uh-” he looked uncomfortable. “I have nightmares sometimes.”

“Oh.” You replied, that wasn’t so bad. Better than you were expecting really. Many people had nightmares and by the looks of him, James probably had some nasty ones. “Well, it’s decently quiet down here. I’m sure we could look into a long-term solution if it becomes a problem. That is if you’re a good fit.”

He nodded again, understanding what you meant. It would suit him well if it worked.

“There is…a small matter before you make any decision, and me too I suppose.” You told him, hoping it wasn’t a deterrent and praying he was a trustworthy person.

He looked at you questioningly.

“Any one who lives here needs to be safe around kids.” You stated.

He thought for a moment. “Y-you uh-”

“I have a son. He’s 8.” You said. “If you can’t legally be around kids or they make you uncomfortable, you can tell me now and this tour can be done. I won’t put my son in danger just for the extra cash.”

“I-I understand.” He said. He had noticed some small items in the hallway that looked to belong to a child and his mind went back to the photos on the wall. Could he really do it? Stay in a home with a mother and child? He wouldn’t be a danger to them, he would never hurt a civilian. Plus, with the locking door and extra entrance he could avoid them as much as possible if need be.He would be an idiot to turn the place down. With all utilities included in the rental price, it was a steal in Brooklyn even with his residual army payments he’d been getting since the pardon. But before he agreed, you’d have to know who he was. Maybe you’d say no to him. It was a possibility and he didn’t want to be out of the running just for who he was.

“I’m not dangerous.” He said to you. “But you should…you should know who I am.”

You raided a brow, a little apprehensive.

“Do you know who Steve Rogers is?” He gulped, nervously.

You just nodded a little.

“Well I’m…My full name is James Buchanen Barnes…”

“Oh.” You replied simply. You knew that he meant, you knew who he was. The former Winter Soldier used to be all over the news before the Blip.

“I understand if that takes me out of the-”

“I have no problem with it.” You cut him off. “As long as you don’t bring any aliens around and put my son in danger, I’d really like having an avenger around.”

“Oh-I’m not…not really.” He blushed, hun hunching over more.

You held out your hand to him. “All of this is dependant upon Max’s opinion and a checking of your references but I’d like to offer you the room.”

He looked at your hand and then back up to your eyes. He took your hand softly and shook it.

“I’d like that.”

“Great, I will call you later with the final opinions and we can go from there.”

#bucky x reader #reader insert #bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes x single!mom reader #marvel #mcu imagine #tfatws #bucky barnes x reader

[bigbadripley]

Hiiiii can you write a Sam x fem reader where it's sam's birthday and he isn't with his family so he's sad and reader wants to cheer him up

Sad? On Your B-Day?

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Fem!Reader (Feat. Platonic!Bucky)

Warnings: No use of y/n, established relationship

Words: 517

Title from "DR. WHOEVER" by Aminé

"Happy Birthday!" You shouted, throwing your arms in the air as Sam entered the kitchen. He smiled with his lips but not his eyes as he sat at the breakfast bar. 

"Thank you, sugar, but I already told you I didn't want to celebrate this year." He said with a bummed tone. You placed your elbows on the bar and rested your chin in your palms, prompting him to look at you. His eyes were dark and dull, not a single shimmer in sight.

"And I told you that's too damn bad," You replied. "You don't get to age around me and expect me to leave you alone."

Usually, Sam would laugh at your stubbornness, but he kept his gloomy expression. It wasn't like him to act this way. You cocked your head at him, trying to gather what could be wrong from his eyes, but you weren't getting much. "What's troubling you, my love?"

Sam exhaled heavily before he responded, leaning back on the stool and crossing his arms over his chest. "Just hate not celebrating with my nephews. They facetimed me, but... I dunno." He explained the best he could. "It's not the same."

It all made sense now and caused you to frown, knowing he was sad on his big day. For as long as you've known Sam, he always made time for his family on his birthday, but after returning from a mission the day before, he didn't have time to return to Louisiana. 

You realized it was up to you to make this birthday special for him, so you called Bucky to explain the issue. He arrived within the hour and had picked up a few things from the drugstore party section. 

"Smells like cake in here," Bucky said upon entering. You nodded,

"Devil's food. Just pulled it out." 

You noticed he was carrying a balloon with Sam's face on it, dawning the Captain America getup, and couldn't help but burst out laughing. "That's your idea of cheering Sam up?" 

The loud chuckle erupting from your chest caused Sam to enter the room again, spotting his giant floating balloon head the second he stepped in from the bedroom. "Aw, what the hell is that, Buck?"

"It's true to size," Bucky answered, pulling the string between his fingers to the edge of the balloon and holding it next to Sam's head for comparison. "Happy birthday." 

Sam tried his best to hold back his laugh, face clearly contorting to keep his stoic expression in response to the joke. You motioned for him to come to you, and he did, snaking his arm around your waist upon arrival. He looked at the unfrosted cake, and the smile he was hiding peeked through again. 

"Sam Wilson, if you don't smile for me-" 

"Thank you, baby." Sam cut off your fake irritation and pulled you closer to his side, hunching slightly to kiss you. In the kiss, you felt the smile. As you pulled away, you saw the toothy grin and met it with your own. 

"I won't have to give you a birthday spanking after all."

#sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x you #captain america #x reader #x you #reader insert #sam wilson x fem!reader #tfatws #marvel #mcu #marvel mcu #marvel one shot #marvel fanfic #mcu fic #mcu fanfiction #fan fic #fan fiction #fatws #fanfic

[darlingpetao3]

Amends of a Ghost (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Rating: G

Summary: Bucky manages to track you down after years to say a few long-awaited words.

A/N: This is me “exercise-writing” again. I think it’s bad lol what a sell XD

You thought you were safe.

Or at least as safe as a person can be in New York City.

But something– someone is following you.

You refuse to turn around to verify this fact so as not to tip them off that you’re on to them. Years of S.H.I.E.L.D. training have prepared you for sneak attacks, among many other stealth-related ambushes. They’ll never know what’ll hit them.

You make a turn down a side street, thinking when this creep rounds the corner, you’ll deck them good. You wait, anticipating the moment you’ll pull back to land a punch right in their face.

Only that moment never comes.

You frown, then dare to peek around the brick wall of the building to see if you’d totally ditched the stranger. Hmm. They’re definitely not there…

A heavier-than-usual weight of a hand on your shoulder makes you jump and immediately kick into overdrive–clutching the hard hand and twisting so that you have your assailant in a lock.

“Heh… you’ve still got the fastest moves.”

Wait, that voice.

“Buck?” you ask, letting go of him in your vice grip. “When- when did you get back?”

The last time you saw Bucky Barnes feels like a lifetime ago. Back when he was practically arm-in-arm with Steve, long hair blowing in the wind and a steely expression set on his face. Okay, that description sounded more like some sort of weird fantasy. Regardless, here he was before you. Minus the Captain, a much shorter haircut, and a self-assured smirk. 

While these differences might be subtle to most, they are striking to you.

“I’ve been here for about a month or so,” he explains. “There are some people I’ve needed to track down.”

“Not to…?” you make a hand motion across your throat. Had he fallen back into his old ways? 

“No, nothing like that. Not anymore.”

“Wow, you really are a whole different man,” you joke, subtly checking him out.

“I feel like one.”

“You look good, by the way.”

“Thanks.”

“…I think this is where you say, ‘You look good, too.’”

He laughs, and scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, you do.”

“Wait, so is this you tracking me down?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. I wanted to—“ Bucky inhales as if summoning the right words, “—apologize for what happened in the past. You know, with us specifically.”

“Oh…”

“I didn’t mean to leave, just so you know. I was one of the erased.”

“I had my suspicions, but I never knew for sure,” you admit. “It was hard not to think you were done with me when I woke up that morning, heh…”

“I really am—”

“Don’t be, Buck, seriously,” you interject. “It wasn’t your fault. You had to go save the world and obviously had no control over-” your words trail off with finger-wiggle in the air. The poor guy still looks like this apology hasn’t entirely left his system. “Come here.”

When he remains put, you scoff and step closer to him instead, wrapping your arms around his body. And even though he’s a little stiff at first, something about your familiar touch relaxes him after a moment.

“It's good to have you back, Buck,” you say with your cheek against his chest. He pulls you back slightly only to look at you more clearly.

“Here’s to new beginnings,” he promises.

You truly hope that you’re in his new beginning.

#reader insert #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #winter solider fanfiction #the falcon and the winter soldier fanfiction #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #tfatws fanfiction #tfatws imagine #the falcon and the winter soldier imagine

[vivid4am]

Life Goes On (Chapter 11)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Sam, Bucky, and Y/N are in Madripoor. Y/N finally gets to see the Winter Soldier in action.

Warnings: Language, TFATWS spoilers

A/N: Sorry for the year long wait! I had really really REALLY bad writer's block, but I'm hoping to finally finish this fic. It's what y'all deserve for being so kind. Also, I google translated the Russian from the show as best as I could. It's not perfect, but we'll pretend that it is. Thanks!

Chapter 10

The thing that Y/N noticed immediately as she stepped off the plane was the humidity. The air felt thick and stuffy in Madripoor. 

Madripoor is an island in Southeast Asia run by, you guessed it, a rotating variety of criminal gangs and terrorist groups. Y/N’s blood thrummed as she read up on the country during the flight. 

Thankfully the A/C in Zeno’s hideout was still working, despite him not being there for a while. Zemo had given Sam and Y/N fake identities that they would hide under. Powerful people who no one would dare try to touch. Bucky didn’t need one, as everyone already knew him as the Winter Soldier. 

Y/N was hesitant. Sure, she could pull off a few lies, but to try and fake out criminals? Liars who could spot liars? That would be difficult for her to do. 

What was even more difficult was the lack of choice she got in her clothing. Y/N wore a short black mini dress with swirled silver glitter adorned to it. Her hair was pulled up, which was helpful considering the heat. The dress hugged her in all the right places and she was afraid that would stir up trouble. The black strap heels she wore dug into her ankles but she tried not to complain. 

She took on the identity of Katrina Stachová, a daughter of an affluent man from the Czech Republic who did most of his dealings in Madripoor. Katrina Stanchová was apparently also involved with Conrad Mack, the Smiling Tiger, aka Sam Wilson. 

With Zemo in the lead, the four marched towards their disastrous plan. Despite the numerous criminals that roamed the streets of Madripoor, Y/N was astounded by the country at night. The bright purple and blue lights lit up the skyline. The smell of the ocean was a little sour and foul, but Y/N disregarded it as best as she could. 

“We have to do something about this,” Sam sighed. “I look like a pimp and Y/N looks like a lady of the night.” Y/N rolled her eyes. 

“No offense.” Sam grumbled. 

“Only an American would think that a fashion-forward black man looks like a pimp and the lovely Lisichika resembles a lady of the night. It’s called fitting into your surroundings.” Zemo argued back with Sam. “You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming, African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.”

Y/N laughed. “God, he even has a bad nickname.” She said, playfully hitting Sam on the arm. Zemo took the phone out of his coat pocket and handed it over to Sam. On the phone was an almost identical match to Sam. To the untrained eye, one would say that Sam and Conrad are identical twins. However, upon closer inspection, there is a mole under Conrad’s left eye, while Sam is without one. Zemo must think that the others won’t get close enough to notice. 

Y/N heaved a heavy inhale through the nose and then out the mouth. Everything was just starting to settle in for her. She felt terrified. 

“You smell this?” Zemo asked, breaking Y/N out of her thoughts.

“Yeah, what is that? Acid?” Sam replied. 

“Madripoor,” Zemo replied. “No matter what happens, we have to stay in character,” He coached. “Our lives depend on it. There’s no margin for error.” 

The group came upon a black car that was waiting for them on the bridge. It was parked perpendicular to the bridge, almost blocking their way. Sweat broke out on Y/N’s forehead. She felt sick to her stomach with nerves. 

“High Town’s that way.” Zemo said, motioning to the skyline in front of them. “Not a bad place if you want to visit,” Zemo opened the door to the car, Bucky following in the back seat to let Sam and Y/N in. He hasn’t spoken a word at all tonight. And that makes Y/N really nervous. Y/N zoned out of the rest of the conversation, doing her best to pull herself together so she doesn’t sell them out before their plan of trickery even starts.

On the ride toward the club, the car is surrounded by bikes that seem to escort the quartet. Y/N swallowed hard and chewed on the inside of her cheek. She thought she was doing really well, holding herself together, thought that no one noticed. 

Bucky’s fingers grabbed her hand, slowly intertwining their fingers together. 

Oh, She thought. Bucky noticed. 

-

Soon enough, the four arrived at their destination. Bucky subtly calmed Y/N’s nerves by holding her hand in the car. But now, she noticed, he was on high alert. He made sure that Y/N was in front of him the entire time and looked around his surroundings for any immediate threats. Zemo led the sailing group through a sea of people. Criminals making deals, counting cash, and yelling threats at one another. 

When they made it inside the club, Bucky notice Y/N tense up, her shoulders almost touching her ears. She looked like she wanted to crawl and hide away. It took a moment for Bucky to realize that she was uncomfortable being around a bunch of men in a crowded unfamiliar place. Not just men, he reminded himself, criminals. 

Bucky closely trailed behind Y/N careful to not let her out of his sight. Zemo, ahead of the group announced in a loud voice so that everyone was aware of his presence. “Я готов отвечить зимний солдат?” 

Ready to comply, Winter Soldier?

Bucky's jaw clenched at the phrase. He swallowed thickly, eyes trained on what was in front of him. An attempt to ground him. Y/N. 

Whispers broke out around the group. Whispers about the Winter Soldier being here. Shocked gasps entered his ears, making his skin crawl in disgust. He hated himself like this. 

Bucky stood idly by the bar while Zemo, Sam, and Y/N ordered their “usual” drinks. It took every bit of Bucky’s strength to hold himself together when Sam almost threw up over his snake shot. Y/N downed her martini without thinking twice. Bucky leaned on the bar, as he watched this tall man, bald and bearded with many tattoos approach Zemo from behind. 

He cleared his throat, causing Zemo to turn around. “Got word from on high. You ain’t welcome here.” The man said, head nudging towards the upstairs balcony. Zemo, cool and collective replied, “I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me..” He then turned to Bucky. Bucky’s stone-cold blue eyes glared at the man. The man smirked. “New haircut?”

“Or bring Selby for a chat.” Zemo stated, earning the man’s attention again. The man seemed to grow uncomfortable and then retreated, turning his heel and stalking away.

“A power broker, really?” Bucky scoffed. 

“Every kingdom needs its’ king,” Zemo replied. “Let’s just pray we stay under his radar.”

“Do you know him?” Sam asked. Zemo shook his head. “Only by reputation. In Madripoor, he’s judge, jury, and executioner.” 

“That’s one shitty justice system.” Y/N deadpanned. She picked an olive off of the toothpick of her martini. Bucky would’ve laughed at Y/N, showed some sort of appreciation for her deprecating humor, but another man, this one in a black beanie, sauntered behind the group. Bucky stood by, waiting for his orders.

Zemo sighed, seeing the man before he turned around and said,

“зимний солдат. ты атакуешь.”

Winter Soldier, attack.

It was expected for the man to grab Zemo’s shoulder.

But that’s only in T.V. shows, Bucky gathered. Nothing is ever perfect for them. 

The man grabbed Y/N’s shoulder with a tight grip and Bucky immediately sprung into action. 

-

Everything happened so fast. One minute Y/N was eating a gin-soaked olive and the next she was watching Bucky beat the living shit out of a man who grabbed her by the shoulder. Y/N watched in horror as Bucky dodged punches and then launched into attacks, metal arm clamming in human skin. Bones cracked from the sheer strength of his punches. Sam and Y/N couldn’t do anything but stand by and watch. Zemo seemed to egg him on, sending more enemies his way. 

“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form.” Zemo smirked to Sam, sending chills up Y/N’ spine. She had forgotten that this wasn’t the Bucky that she knew. 

The Bucky she knew liked listening to Frank Sinatra and playing rummy with her over a few beers. The Bucky she knew would sit and listen to her babble on and on about The Beatles. And he’d never complain about it. 

But this Bucky, he was cold and ruthless. It made her stomach flip and her thighs shake. 

The sound of a gun cocking made Y/N  freeze and quickly swallow her vile. She watched as everyone in the room loaded and cocked their guns, just as Bucky slammed his latest victim into the bar. Sam laid his hand on Bucky’s metal soldier. Zemo cleared his throat. “Stay in character, or this whole bar turns on us.” He hissed.

Y/N watched as Zemo rolled his shoulders back and placed his hand on Bucky. “Молодец, солдат.”

Well done, Soldier. 

Bucky immediately snapped out of his rageful “trance”. “Selby will see you now.” The bartender stated wanting to quickly get the group out from ruining the rest of his business for the night. 

Bucky let go of the man. The man slid down the bar, gasping for air. Sam, with a concerned look in his eyes, softly asked. “You good?” Bucky did nothing else but exhale sharply in reply, before turning away and following after Zemo. 

Regret was drowning in his blue eyes and Y/N wanted to scream and cry for him. He didn’t want to revert back to his old self, she knew. Her heart ached for him. She wanted to wrap her arm around him and tell him everything would be just fine. 

But she couldn’t. 

Because now she had to face Selby. 

Life Goes On Tag List:

@livvpl107 @navs-bhat @bluemoon-icecream @sltwins @loveheathens @wintersfilm @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @theashlynbarnes @joscelyn02 @gene5sos @vibraniumqueen @icant-hangout-imdrumming @spideyswebshooters @darkacademic2 @bahama-mama-llama @lawrencekate @thewinterrbucky @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @dancerslovelife @hey-there-angels @archaeoheart @unmagically @marvelfansworld @lethallyprotected @marvelanddumbstuff @tylard-blog1 @lokigirlszendaya

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #protective!bucky #tfatsw #tfatws!bucky #the winter soldier #the falcon and the winter soldier #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan #the falcon #sam wilson #helmut zemo #zemo #baron zemo #x reader #self insert #crossposted on ao3

[urdepressedslut]

The Collection

♡ Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: Bucky arrives home and panics when he notices you calling for him from your room, but upon entering— he realizes what you have been getting yourself into.

♡ Warnings: superrrrr fluffyyyy 🥹, slight panic, hints to paranoia, hints to PTSD, hints to bucky’s trauma, overall a comfort drabble

main masterlist

A/N: i have been adding to my own squish mallow collection and thought of this 🥰 i’m unhealthily obsessed with squish mallows

Arriving back at your shared apartment, Bucky couldn’t help but notice the amount of time xtra large bags on the kitchen counter. He furrowed his brows in confusion and wandered to the fridge. Opening it in inspection, he didn’t see anything new or added.

You hadn’t gone grocery shopping…

He could hear faint shuffling from your shared room, and he couldn’t help but panic. His mind was brilliant at creating a problem from nothing. He was a professional over thinker— and sometimes it threatened to make his heart give out.

“Baby? I’m home!” He announced, shimmying off his jacket and making his way to the bedroom.

“James! Come quick— you gotta see something!” You said urgently.

He automatically thought the worst and all his suspicions were suddenly coming through. Visions of you hurt came to mind and he practically sprinted and busted through the door. The knob slamming into the wall with a loud thud.

“(Y/n)? You okay?!” He asked panicked.

His body relaxed at your calm state, only the look of confusion on your face. With a quick scan— he noticed there was nothing wrong with the room or you. In fact, if anything was different— it were the many new plushies on the bed.

Releasing a breath that he didn’t know he was holding in, and ran a hand through his hair.

“James honey— you alright? Just wanted to show you my new squishmallows.” You asked him worried, walking over to stand next to him.

Truthfully, if anything he was embarrassed that he’d let himself get in his head again. But after finding you perfectly fine, and organizing your plushies— which he found adorable— he felt fine. He was only happy that you were okay.

“M’fine baby, just thought you were in trouble is all.” He told you honestly.

You softened your gaze to him, grabbing his hand and hiding him to the bed. You gently pushed him down to sit, and he did so willingly.

“I didn’t mean to sound all panicky— was just excited to show you the new ones I got today!” You told him, smiling like the cheshire cat.

He chuckled, leaning back on his hands as he looked down at the medium sized squishmallows.

“You know— this is considered an addiction.” He pointed out.

You scoffed, waving him off like it was no big deal.

“Some consider it a hobby actually.” You defended.

He raised his brows in amusement, chuckling again when he saw you being so defensive. He thought you were adorable.

“You’re so cute.” He said out loud, causing your face to grow hot.

After all this time— he was still easily able to make you blush, flustered from his compliments.

You shook off the flush in your face, choosing to pick up a new squishmallow to show him. You held up a medium sized seal squishmallow, to which Bucky smiled at.

“This is a seal one, his name is Remmy.” You told him.

Bucky grabbed it from your hands, giving it a test hug and holding it while you grabbed another one. Next was a longhorn squishmallow, with a ring dangling from its nose.

“This is a bull one, his name is Shep.” You told him, giving it a hug and then passing it to Bucky.

You held back a giggle, Bucky holding the plushies to his chest an adorable sight. Such a tough man with these cute stuffed animals.

“I like his horns.” He noted, fiddling with the plushie.

You picked up the last one, being a bird squishmallow. You smiled wide as you looked at it, this one being your favorite.

“This is my favorite of the three. I think he’s a hawk or something, and his name is Sam.” You explained.

Bucky’s eyes went wide and he started laughing, dropping the other plushies on the bed, he reached out and grabbed the hawk and inspected it.

“Sam, really?” He asked chuckling.

You nodded your head with a sly smile.

“Does our Sam know about this?” He asked again.

“Definitely not— but I’m sure he’d appreciate it.” You told him.

You two laughed at the goofiness and you ended up being pulled by Bucky into the bed. He wrapped you up in his arms and the two of you started cuddling— just melting into each others embrace. The squishmallows surrounded you two while you both drifted off to sleep.

Nothing felt more perfect, nothing felt more right than being in his arms.

“Love you baby.” He whispered, kissing the top of your head.

“Love you more James.” You mumbled into his chest.

TAGLIST: @billy-reads @potatothots @buckyb-stan @kmc1989 @silverfire13 @ghostofwinter @hanihoney88 @stilesofhannah @skittle479 @marvelogic @meetmeatyourworst @engie115 @wilsons-striped-ties @x209x @kandis-mom @l0kilaufeys0n7

#bucky barnes #sebastian stan #the winter soldier #marvel cinematic universe #reader insert #buckybarnes #fluff #bucky barnes fic #marvel imagines #tfatws!bucky barnes #the falcon and the winter soldier #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fic rec #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #💗💗💗

[urvenicebtch]

Drop

-----pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: you take Bucky on his first rollercoaster since the 40s

A/N: hiya. this is really short but it’s getting hot out so i wanted to incorporate my favourite place of all time: theme/amusement parks! (esp. canadas wonderland💕)

Warnings: anxiety, a ride pass-out, that’s it i guess, just some rollercoaster bucky fluff!

All the way through the queue, Bucky was anxious.

You knew he hadn’t been on a ride, let alone at a themepark, in almost a century, so you wanted to take him to the best one you knew to try to reintroduce him. The busy walkways and loud kids didn’t seem to bother him as much as you’d thought it would, but the rides? Oh, boy.

At the front of the line for the first ride of the day, you and Bucky stand, him squeezing the feeling out of your hand as he holds it— looking nonchalant. The gates open and you step onto the platform scouting good seats.

“Front, middle, or back?” you ask. He just stares at you for a moment before stuttering his response.

“Uh, middle, I guess. Can’t go wrong with in-between, right?” he answers. You grab his hand and find two spots in the middle of the train and scooch in, tossing your bag to the other side of the platform. Some people around you stare, people all around the park were, but Bucky was getting used to it. Some of them knew who he was and some of them were just… intimidated.

Only when the employees come by to check the seatbelts do you realize Bucky’s expression. The employee on his side came by, then checked his seatbelt, and you looked over at him only to see his face completely drained. You take his hand in yours and give it a squeeze just as the ride starts to move. People chattering and going about their day below you echoes in the high air as the cart climbs the incline, making loud clicks as it goes up.

“Buck, just don’t look down and it won’t be so bad, alright? You’re fine, we’re in a controlled environment,” you whisper into his ear. Bucky being Bucky, the moment you mention looking down, he does exactly that. He peeks over the edge ever so slightly and immediately looks back to you with a face full of dread. You smile at him and squeeze his hand tight as you reach the tip of the incline, preparing for the drop.

“Hold on, Bucky!” you exclaim as the ride rounds the drop. Going down, you keep your eyes squeezed shut until you reach the bottom, laughing hysterically at Bucky’s howling the entire way down. Tears form in your eyes from laughing by the time you reach the second incline and drop again. You look over to see his knuckles turned no other shade than a ghostly white as he grips the handlebar so hard you think you hear the metal begin to creak.

On the last hill, you look over once more just as you reach the top to see him out like a light. You don’t know where or when but he is out. You laugh even harder, now completely unable to breathe as you look at his limp figure sliding around in his seat until you reach the end of the ride. He wakes as you enter the station again, watching as you fall to your knees the second you step out of the ride onto the platform. Somewhat disoriented, he looks around before stepping out of his seat and joining you on the other side of the platform. After a little while of watching you wheeze he begins to smile, extending his hand for you to take.

You take his hand and lead him down the exit as you continue to laugh a bit, explaining to him what exactly you found funny. He laughs with you when you start to explain the unconscious part and follows you down the path to an even bigger ride. He looks up at the drop of this one compared to the last and his face runs pale again.

“Can we do the other one again?”

#bucky barnes #marvel #bucky barnes x reader #female reader #fanfic #reader insert #wattpad #theme park #amusement park #tfatws!bucky

[tom-whore-dleston]

What I've Been Looking For

Pairing ▹ Joaquin Torres x gn. reader

This fic contains ▹ fluff, birthdays, soulmates AU, Joaquin and reader are 24 years old, alcohol consumption, sibling banter, lightly beta'ed writing

Word Count ▹ 1.2k

Summary ▹ Every year, you wish to meet your soulmate but are becoming less hopeful of it coming true.

Notes ▹ It's my birthday!!! You all voted for a birthday fic and I delivered 😜 I would like to count this fic towards my submission for @late-to-the-party-81's Challenge Yourself challenge since this is my first time writing a Soulmates AU. Remember to reblog and comment if you enjoyed! 😊

Prompt ▹ Sharing birthdays: soulmates are born on the same day, share the first breath with each other by @creativepromptsforwriting/@creativepromptfills Dividers ▹ @firefly-graphics

Birthdays were a sacred celebration. You lived in a world where your soulmate was born on the same day as you, sharing your first breath together. Every year, you wished for the same thing before blowing the candles of your cake out. You wished to meet your soulmate. The soulmate that came into this world the very exact moment that you did. As the years went by, you became more discouraged from meeting that person you were meant to live the rest of your life with. Nevertheless, you continued to wish to meet that special somebody.

Upon waking up to the sun shining down on your face, you sighed, throwing the bed cover off your body.

Another birthday. Another wish to waste on someone that may as well be a myth.

As you walked into the kitchen, you heard a cheerful shout from your sister.

“Happy birthday!”

“Oh, it’s that day again, huh?” You joked before giving her a hug.

“Of course it is!” She started to run to the fridge, pulling out a small cake and plopping a candle on top. You couldn’t help but laugh at the lengths your sister went to make your birthday special, even if she knew that it wasn’t your favorite day of the year.

“I really appreciate the gesture, but I am not eating cake at 8 in the morning.”

“Oh, c’mon! It’s guava flavored. Your favorite!” For a slight second, you were tempted to give in and eat a slice. You couldn’t resist anything guava flavored.

“Alright, fine. But I am not blowing candles or making wishes.”

“What?” Your sister looked like she was about to cry. Was it her birthday or something? “You will have bad luck if you don’t make a wish.”

“Eh, who cares? I haven’t had any luck with a soulmate so what else do I have to lose?” You walked past her to brew a cup of coffee and she followed you like a newborn duckling.

“I care! I know you feel defeated about not finding your soulmate but I know they are out there. I love you so I want you to be happy. And that starts with enjoying this cake with me. With the candles and singing and wishes!” You admired your sister’s persistence. She may have been younger than you but she fought like hell for you. Maybe you could do without a soulmate, as long as your sister continued to stick around and tolerate your pessimism.

“I love you too, little sis. Thank you for the cake. For everything, actually.” You pressed your forehead against hers. “Now light this bitch up, and try to sing on key.”

The end of your birthday was approaching and so far, it wasn’t too bad. You, your sister, and a couple of your friends went out for dinner and drinks with a balcony view of the sun setting over the beach. The alcohol in your system caused you to fully relax as your gaze followed the orange orb descend in the purplish yellow sky. You had just gulped the last day of your champagne as a crowd of employees marched towards your table with not one, but two chocolate cakes littered with sprinkles.

You glanced over at your party, confused upon seeing the second plate of dessert. They all shrugged before pulling out their phones to record you. One server finally placed a slice of cake in front of you, and you flashed them a thankful smile. Then, you followed the other piece of cake to the next table. The same server set down the plate in front of a man so ethereal, you could have mistaken him for Prince Charming.

That man glanced at you, catching your gaze as the candles on your cakes flickered under your smiles toward each other. Time stopped and the rest of the world ceased to exist as everyone around the two of you sang “Happy Birthday.” You couldn’t tell if it was his enchanting stare or the fizzling drink you downed, but your cheeks warmed up and butterflies fluttered around in your stomach. Everything about this man was mesmerizing, from his sculpted bone structure in his face to his fluffy dark curls, and then the radiant energy that he exerted as the gentlemen across from him sang drunkenly. You wanted to know his name, his story, and his hopes and dreams.

Amongst your trance with him, you discovered his name was Joaquin since his buddies shouted it louder than your equally drunk friends and sister did with your own name. Joaquin wasn’t a common name, but that was what drew you even more to him. Joaquin was full of wonder. You may not have known then and there, but Joaquin was just as enamored and curious about you.

“C’mon, make a wish!” One of your friends yelped behind her phone. Your eyes shut and a hopeful grin spread across your face. For the first time, you had a different wish.

I wish for Joaquin.

Opening your eyes, you blew out the flame and the sounds of cheers and claps filled the atmosphere. Peering back at Joaquin, your eyes met once again, lingering a little longer than before. His teeth glimmered under the last bit of sunlight that peeked from behind the horizon. The sun finally disappeared, but then the moon and stars took their place in illuminating Joaquin’s beauty for you to admire.

“Hey, why don’t you stop gawking over that guy and go say ‘happy birthday’ back.” Your sister laughed. Your lips curled inward as if you had been caught with your hand in a jar of candy. Suddenly, you grew nervous at the thought of approaching him. This man could be the soulmate you have yearned for your whole life. But what if he wasn’t what you expected?

You wouldn’t know unless you tried. And so you did.

The chair shifted under you as you stood up to walk towards Joaquin. Before you knew it, he was doing the same exact thing. Walking toward one another felt like your hearts were being pulled by a string that connected you two. By the time you were only feet from one another, you had wished you had some champagne to chug before leaving your seat. But once you locked eyes with Joaquin, all those years of disappointment and defeat vanished. Hope, love, and happiness began to fill that hole in your heart.

“So…” You began. “It’s your birthday too?”

“Yeah, it’s actually my 24th to be exact,” Joaquin responded, combing his hand through his brown locks.

Your heart skipped a beat. “Same here.”

Joaquin beamed. “I figured. Who would have thought that it would take me 24 years to finally feel truly alive?”

You bit your lip, fighting the urge to tear up. No witty comeback could top his, and deep down, he knew that. It was hard to believe that you had finally found your soulmate. All that was certain of you was that you did not want this moment to end.

“Well, I’m not much of a cake person, but I do like long walks on the beach.” You laughed at his corny comment. “Wanna get out of here in a few?”

You nodded without hesitation. Joaquin took your hand in his, symbolizing the beginning of a beautiful life of many birthdays and growing older with your soulmate.

Navigation | Fanfic Masterlist | Joaquin Torres Masterlist

#Jen’s 1k Challenge #Challenge Yourself #joaquin torres #danny ramirez #tfatws #captain america new world order #joaquin torres x reader #joaquin torres x you #the falcon x reader #joaquin torres fluff #joaquin torres imagine #joaquin torres fanfic #joaquin torres fic #soulmates au #birthday fic #fluff #reader insert #no y/n

[make-me-imagine]

Marvel/Avengers Halloween Scenario Game

13 Days of Halloween: Day 4 (Bonus)

(Scenario Game Masterlist)

Rules/What you do: Just match the month/day/letter to yourself and you got yourself a cute little scenario to imagine lol. And you can also leave in the tags or comments, what your scenario is :) *Please consider reblogging or tagging your friends/mutuals to share this around.

Your Birth Month:

You And...

January: Sam Wilson // Pepper Potts

February: Vision // Lady Sif

March: Tony Stark // Maria Hill

April: Scott Lang // Wanda Maximoff

May: Bucky Barnes // Carol Danvers

June: Pietro Maximoff // Darcy Lewis

July: Thor // Monica Rambeau

August: Steve Rogers // Jane Foster

September: Peter Parker // Natasha Romanov

October: Bruce Banner // Okoye

November: Clint Barton // Gamora

December: Stephen Strange // Hope Pym

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Your Birth Date:

1: Go to a pumpkin patch... 2: Get lost in a haunted house... 3: Wear matching(couples) costumes... 4: Decorate for Halloween... 5: Get chased by a monster... 6: Have a Halloween movie marathon... 7: Go to a Halloween fright night festival... 8: Tour a decorated neighborhood... 9: Bake Halloween themed desserts together... 10: Go to a Halloween Party... 11: Go on a hayride... 12: Accidentally wear the same costume... 13: Go on a haunted tour... 14: Get lost in a corn maze... 15: Take turns telling scary stories around a campfire... 16: Watch horror movies together... 17: Go to a haunted house... 18: Go apple picking... 19: Get lost in the woods... 20: Go to a county fair... 21: Pick each others costume... 22: Have a jumpscare/prank war... 23: See a real ghost... 24: Carve pumpkins... 25: Go trick-or-treating (or) Give out candy to trick-or-treaters.. 26: Dress up as each other... 27: Get stranded in the middle of nowhere... 28: Host a Halloween Party... 29: Make your own costumes... 30: Go ghost hunting... 31: Attend a masquerade...

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First Letter of Your Name (or Username) -

AND...

A-E: You have your first kiss.

F-K: They end up confessing their feelings for you.

L-S: They tell you they love you for the first time.

T-Z: It's your first date.

xx

A bit of a different style to this one, hope you like it!

Don't forget to comment or reblog with your results, and tag your friends!

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @caswinchester2000, @imaginesfire, @onuen, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry

Marvel/Avengers Taglist: @aquariuslavenderhoney, @trashywritestrash, @groovy-lady, @marvelouslyme96, @supersourlemon13, @mochamoff, @simsiddy, @byersboys, @flourishandblotts-inc, @spuffyfan394, @agent-catfish-kenobi, @locke-writes, @cs-please, @soultrysworld, @a-lumos-in-the-nox, @creativitybeware, @that-marvel-simp, @dominos-palast, @maellem

Requested Taglist: @le-green-lion

#marvel #avengers #scenario game #marvel scenario game #avengers scenario game #halloween scenario game #marvel imagine #avengers imagine #13 days of halloween #day 4 bonus #match up game #halloween game #tag game #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #reader insert game #thor #captain america #tfatws