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pellucid-constellations · 6 months

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Faking It

Pairing: College Athlete!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes was in love with his girl—disgustingly, annoyingly so. Enough to start fights on the ice just to make sure he saw her after a game.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: This is FLUFF!! With HOCKEY MAN

a/n: This was originally something completely different but then I hated it so now it's all fluff and now I do not hate it. Pleaseeeee let me know what you think and if you enjoy it!! I love you thanks for reading ❤️❤️❤️

Masterlist

“Jesus Christ, Buck. Again?”

Bucky grinned, split lip tightening uncomfortably. When he turned to his captain, he had the gall to act oblivious. “What do you mean, captain?”

Steve gave him a disapproving look. “Give it up, pal. There was no need to pick a fight with that guy and you know it.”

“He was talking shit about the team!”

“They’ll always be a player talking shit about the team.”

“Then why’re you breathing down my neck right now, huh? We won. Be happy, Cap,” Bucky encouraged, slinging an arm over his shoulder. Steve raised a brow back at him but was clearly fighting back a smirk. Bucky could tell by the way his eyes lifted, contrasting his deep—albeit fake—frown.

In truth, Bucky had been looking for a fight. He’d been looking for a plethora of fights since the start of the season, and was usually quite successful with his venture. It had garnered him quite the reputation, but where the crowd saw it as a short-fuse on a large man, Steve saw it for what it really was.

An opportunity to see you.

And while Steve could appreciate the dedication, it made one of his best players ride out unnecessary time in the penalty box.

“I am happy. Just not with you,” Steve clarified, knocking Bucky’s arm away.

Bucky let out a sound close to a scoff. “Even with my extra time in the sin bin I still helped carry. It’s just part of the game, Steve. Gotta protect the team’s pride.”

“Yeah,” Steve drawled sarcastically, stopping in front of the locker room doors. “I’m sure that was your reasoning. What was it last game? Someone said something about your ma?”

“Hey, he did.”

“They always do.”

Heavy footsteps created a commotion in the hall, the rest of the team finally catching up with the pair. They funneled their way into the room for showers and a fresh change of clothes, and Steve stood with his crossed arms leaning against the wall, somehow still directing an admonishing look towards Bucky amidst the crowd. Bucky did his best to look baffled by the unspoken accusation, but then Sam Wilson passed by and Bucky’s ploy was disintegrated.

“Hey man,” Sam greeted, slapping a friendly hand against Bucky’s arm as he passed. “You let someone beat the shit out of you again so you could go see your girl?”

Bucky’s scoff returned, but this time Steve was having none of it. He kicked off of the wall and went to follow the rest of the team into the locker room. Bucky watched with a grimace, not only caught, but put on display.

“You know,” Steve called over his shoulder, not expecting Bucky to follow. “You’re dating the girl now. You don’t gotta keep up with this whole schtick.”

“I don’t have a schtick,” he called back. At the responding laugh from Steve, Bucky yelled, “I don’t!” but no one was listening to him. Or believing him.

But fine. If his schtick involved you, in any capacity, Bucky would admit to having one.

Some of what Steve said was right. Bucky was dating you now. You were his girl and that would imply total access to you all the time, whenever he wanted. He didn’t need to pick fights or feign injuries anymore (the latter never really worked anyways), because he had a key to your apartment. And you were in his bed more weekends than not.

But, damn, were you busy right now.

Bucky had never really considered how much schooling went into becoming a physical therapist until he met you. You were typically swamped with papers and tests and requests from Dr. Cho, but this past month had been exponentially worse thanks to finals. He had seen you about once a week if he was lucky, and that was a generous estimation. Add your crazy schedule to the alarming amount of away games he had over the past few weeks and he was champing at the bit to see you.

Bucky just prayed it was you in the training room today and not Dr. Cho. His odds were pretty favorable considering the team’s main trainer didn’t usually stick around after games if there were no major injuries, but there was always the off chance she let her interns go home early. But, knowing you, you would be in that room until the rink lights went off.

God, he loved you. Every overworked, high-strung bit of you.

He even loved the scolding look you shot him as he pushed open the training room doors, his bruises and cuts on full display. You dropped the pen you were tapping against an overflowing notebook and rocketed out of your rolling stool, and Bucky adored the way you stomped over to him, biting the inside of your cheek to stop the curse you clearly wanted to let free.

“Hey, baby,” Bucky smiled, this time ignoring the sting in his lip. “Funny seeing you here.”

You huffed, bringing careful fingers up to his chin. “Not very funny,” you mumbled. “Not when you look like someone hit you with their car.”

Bucky let you fuss for a moment, following your touch as you turned his head back and forth and examined his split knuckles. This was your job, so obviously he let you do it, but he enjoyed watching you. So he didn’t stop you from lifting his jersey up to inspect his middle, because how else would he catch the cute way you scrunch your nose up in concentration? If he pulled his hands away when you started testing the range of motion in his wrists, when else would he be able to track your lips as you softly counted and mouthed gentle confirmations?

Never. Because you were so damn busy.

“Missed you,” Bucky said after sneaking a kiss on your forehead while you were prodding at the bruise on his collarbone. “I’ve been missing you a lot.”

You let a small smile interrupt the disgruntlement on your face. Bucky grinned at the change, pressing another kiss to your hair while he still could.

“Did you miss me enough to send a right hook into that guy’s jaw?”

“Yes.”

Your smile was gone again. Now you looked aghast. “Bucky.”

“What?” he exclaimed, sliding his torn hands from your healing ones to wrap you in his embrace. “You want me to lie instead? Okay, fine. No, sweetheart, I didn’t start a fight just to have an excuse to see you. That guy got all these punches in on me because I’m out of practice, is all. I don’t think about you every waking second of my life, and while we’re at it, no I did not use your shampoo this morning because I miss how—”

“Okay, okay,” you laughed, resting your forehead on the divot in his chest. “I get it. Thanks for being truthful.”

Bucky relished in the feel of you. He had been slightly worried that his state would cause you to be more upset than anything. If you weren’t so tired right now, there was a high chance you’d be yelling at him because of his recklessness instead of resting against his chest. So Bucky jumped at the opportunity, trailing one of his hands up to cup the back of your head. He craned his neck down, burying his face into the juncture of your neck.

He hadn’t been lying about the shampoo.

“I miss you too. Even if you act like an idiot sometimes,” you mumbled against his jersey.

Something in Bucky felt lighter, warm. “Acting like an idiot’s the only way I get to see my girl.”

You hummed. “Sorry ‘m so busy.”

You had to be exhausted. Not even a single reprimand had tumbled from your mouth. Bucky had expected at least three.

“When’s the last time you slept, baby?” Bucky kept his voice low, his thumb making unconscious circles against your hair.

“I don’t know. In the night.”

“Okay, thanks smart ass.” Bucky jostled you a bit until your eyes met his. “I meant when did you last take a break? Get a good night’s sleep?”

You sighed, gaze trailing over his face. “Let me fix you up. Then we can play twenty questions.”

“Baby—”

“No, Buck, this is the training room, if you haven’t noticed,” you quipped, stepping back and rifling through a few drawers. “Take a seat and I’ll fix you. That’s my job.”

“Well, what about my job?” he grumbled back.

“You have failed at your job. Your job is hockey and you instead played human punching bag.”

“Not that job. My other job. The one where I take care of you.”

You spun on your heel, a basket of supplies resting on your hip. The sweater that engulfed your frame had the university’s logo stamped across the front, but instead of jeans or slacks—the usual uniform for PT interns—you wore leggings. Your hair was pulled back in the most endearing, pretty mess, and Bucky’s chest hurt as he looked at you.

“My tired girl,” he hummed, bringing his hand up to your cheek as you pushed him down on the exam chair. He sat if only to appease you, his feet still flat on the floor even with the tall seat.

“I’m only a little tired,” you weakly fought. Bucky chuckled in response, sanitary paper crinkling beneath him. “Now let me clean you up.”

You snapped gloves onto your hands and Bucky fought back a petulant whine. If he had been any other member of the team, those gloves would have been on the second they walked in the door. He should be grateful, then, that you only put them on when it was time to tend to his wounds, but he wasn’t. He missed you too much to feel latex instead of your skin.

Bucky’s lip stung as you cleaned it, but he hardly flinched. If he moved, he would miss the pretty way you bit into your lip as you stared at him.

“Remember when I’d be in here all the time?” he asked when you turned back down to grab antibiotic cream.

You let out a tired laugh. “How could I forget? You picked a fight every game. If that didn't work you’d come stumbling in here complaining about a torn ACL or whatever. Big liar.”

“I wouldn’t call it lying.”

The smile you gave him was replicated on his own face.

“You were literally lying.” You dabbed the cream on his lip, and then moved to the cut on his cheek. “You would come limping in here and then I’d see you an hour later running out to the parking lot.”

“You wouldn’t look at me if I wasn’t injured.”

“It was my job, Bucky!” you laughed, eyes giving away your amusement. “I wasn’t supposed to be fraternizing with the players. I’m pretty sure Cho only lets us be together because you wouldn’t leave her alone otherwise.”

Bucky moved his hands from his thighs to your waist, tugging you closer as you worked. “Hey, sometimes drastic measures are needed.”

“You called her multiple times a day… bought her an edible arrangement. Wait, didn’t you offer to drive her kids to school a few times?”

“It worked, didn’t it,” he posed, nudging his nose against your cheek. You giggled, lightly slapping his arm to get away.

“The edible arrangement was a good touch,” you relented.

Bucky released you as you wiggled from his grip, flitting around the training room to put supplies back. He spotted your backpack in the corner of the room, unzipped with the water bottle tipping out. When you sat down at the computer to document his care, which he found a bit ridiculous (you only put a bandaid on his face), Bucky walked over and gathered your things. He did so slowly so you wouldn’t notice; you probably had plans to stay at the rink for another few hours, and that was not okay with him.

With a final zip and your water bottle now standing upright, Bucky meandered over to your seated position. He hooked his chin over your shoulder as you worked, leaning over and tapping your phone screen for the time. His heart twisted warmly in his chest when he saw a picture of himself smiling under the 8:00 pm displayed on the homescreen.

After all the pining and work it took to get you, Bucky often felt this wasn’t real.

God, he loved you.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” you whispered, clicking away at the computer. “I still have some charting to do. Peter hit his head yesterday and I have to do the follow up work.”

Still in his uniform, Bucky wrapped you up from behind. Now you would both need a shower and he could get you to leave. He kissed the back of your head, and then your temple, and then your cheek as he craned his neck to watch you work. You smelled like fresh laundry and books and the subtle hint of your perfume.

“Parker’s fine. He was up and playing today. Let’s go home, baby,” Bucky murmured, most of his words spoken against your skin.

“I know he’s okay. But head injuries are a completely different protocol and I have to—”

“I miss you,” he reiterated. “And you’re working too hard. All the lights are off in the rink ‘cept for this one. Come back to my place. Let me take care of you.”

“Why don’t you shower and change first? I’ll leave with you once you finish.”

Bucky spun your stool around suddenly, one hand on your waist, the other reaching back to steady himself on the desk now at your back. “Oh no, don’t try to pull that on me. I get back in here, you’re gonna tell me you started something new you can only finish on the PT computer and you can’t leave for another hour. I wasn’t born yesterday.”

You let out a quick sigh, caught. “Well, what about—”

“Nope,” Bucky interrupted. He used his far hand to shut the facility computer and then guided you up. “You’re coming home with me. You’re gonna sit in the car while I drive you to my apartment and then we’re gonna take a shower together and I’m gonna make you feel so good you don’t even remember what a concussion is.”

“Bucky,” you chastised, hiding your face in his shoulder.

His laugh shook your head. “Still so damn shy.” He reached down to grab your bag, slinging it over his shoulder and placing a hand on the back of your neck, meeting your averted gaze. “Just me in here, baby.”

“I know. But you don’t have to be so vulgar.”

“Vulgar? Sweetheart, if you want vulgar I’ll tell you exactly what I’m gonna do to you the second we—”

You slapped your hand over his mouth, careful for the delicate skin there. Still, Bucky was sure you could feel his smile against your skin, and he fought back an even bigger one when he saw the embarrassed twist of your brow.

Slowly, he pried your wrist down, kissing the palm of your hand on the way. “Sorry,” he whispered, not sorry in the slightest.

You pursed your lips, flustered. “You’re such an antagonizer.”

Bucky could do this every day and never grow tired of it. It had been months now and he found himself only wanting you more.

“Can’t help it. I love you.”

Your faux annoyance morphed into a bashful smile, the kind Bucky remembered from his time faking injuries. It was reminiscent of when you were trying not to laugh at his jokes, or smile at his flirting, or give him any reaction he was looking for.

But he always got what he wanted in the end.

And, more than anything, he wanted you.

“That one do the trick?” Bucky asked. “Am I finally getting my girl to come home with me?”

When you looked up at him with raised brows and a smile twisted up at the corners, he knew you’d given up. Perfect timing, too, because—in all honesty—Bucky had been punched in the side during his on-ice tussle, and his ribs were starting to hurt. You were going to be pissed when you saw the bruise form tomorrow morning, but you would be pissed in his bed, so it was worth it to Bucky.

“I have to get a little bit of homework done when we get there,” you reasoned, pointing an accusing finger at your boyfriend.

He threw his hands up in surrender, dropping one down over your shoulders as you both walked out. “Okay, okay. Homework at my place, I got it.”

“That comes first, Bucky. Before anything else. Shower, then homework, and then… other things.”

“I know what first means, baby.”

“Good.”

But Bucky had other plans, and they did not involve homework. He was pretty sure you were ahead, anyways. Like, weeks ahead, actually.

“You eat dinner yet?” he asked, fishing his keys from his pocket.

You looked up at him, incredulous. “What did I just say?”

“What?” he defended, tugging you closer as the wind in the parking lot whipped at your clothes. “I can’t make sure my girl’s had dinner? What am I allowed to do?”

You only scoffed, tucking yourself further into his side. “Keep me warm.”

“Always, baby.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes au #college!bucky #athlete!bucky #bucky barnes

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leclerc-s · 3 months

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paint the town red - part nine

CRY MORE RED BULL

series masterlist

AUSTRIA 2024

isaiah atkins where the fuck is that little spider-shit?

harley keener currently? he's on the roof of mercedes hospitality tormenting toto.

isaiah atkins how the fuck has that kid lived as long as he has?

peter parker caffeine and spite

sebastian vettel what's this about peter telling red bull to 'cry more'

bianca stark-potts that's iconic. isaiah atkins no! it's not!

peter parker it's okay, we'll just shove lestappen down their throats this weekend and they'll forget all about it.

charles leclerc what the hell is a lestappen? peter parker it's you and max! charles leclerc what the fuck??

carlos sainz it's like how lando and i are carlando!

harley keener and how tony and steve are stony

tony stark what the actual fuck keener?

sebastian vettel or how nico and lewis are referred to as brocedes, right?

arthur leclerc see charles, even seb understands what we're talking about and he's older than you.

peter parker do you guys think i'll be able to meet nico rosberg and ask him about brocedes?

ollie bearman oh god, he's a menace. harley keener back home they call him spider-menace ollie bearman you know, that suits him.

isaiah atkins right, so apparently my job also requires me to babysit peter

bianca stark-potts isaiah, buddy, i hate to break it to you, but that's the main reason you were hired.

tony stark NO HE WASN'T! it was so that he could babysit all of you, except seb.

tony stark although, i'm not quite convinced that man isn't a menace still.

sebastian vettel i am an angel stark! tony stark jury's still out

bianca stark-potts posted new stories

local menace is pouting after isaiah scolded him

the best boy

so where we gonna go?

sam wilson i bet tony is watching bianca like a hawk.

tony stark WELL WHO THE FUCK IS HE??

tony stark my gut is telling me it's like verstappen or something.

tony stark i just know it has to be someone from a different team

queen shuri for a man who claims he's such a genius, you sure are stupid

bianca stark-potts SHURI SHUT UP!

natasha romanoff i know who it is

tony stark WHAT? HOW?

bianca stark-potts THAT'S NOT FAIR, YOU SENT YELENA TO SPY ON ME? THAT'S SUCH BULLSHIT NAT!

natasha romanoff HOW DID YOU KNOW? bianca stark-potts for a former black widow, she's not very good at disguises. her black wig is horrendous.

joaquin torres i think it's charles. nothing can change my mind.

sam wilson it has to be like norris or sargeant.

bucky barnes clint managed to convince me, it has to be an older driver. i vote jenson button.

kate bishop well we know it's not yuki because who ever he is, he's taller than bianca.

tony stark nat, i'll pay you to tell me who it is.

natasha romanoff i only did it to know if her was good enough for her, i think he is.

natasha romanoff added one person

yelena belova ah kate bishop is here!

kate bishop oh no.

tony stark yelena, pleasure, who is my daughter seeing?

yelena belova natasha? natasha romanoff no, you can't tell him. it'll be much funnier when bianca tells him. yelena belova understood. sorry stark, i cannot say anything tony stark OH COME ON!

harley keener added one person

isaiah atkins do i want to know why? or what this is?

carlos sainz bianca and charles have something to tell you!

isaiah atkins is it that they're dating?

charles leclerc how the hell? bianca stark-potts how the fuck?

isaiah atkins oh don't worry, it's not anything you two did. you're doing great at keep it a secret.

isaiah atkins harley and carlos on the other hand. they suck at keeping a secret. it's not like they're trying. they tease you two at every opportunity they get. seb's figured it out too.

charles leclerc how long do think it'll take tony or peter to figure it out?

bianca stark-potts i love my dad but he can't ever see what's in front of him. it took him months to figure out nat was a widow

harley keener as for peter, that kid couldn't figure that his girlfriend, mj, was flirting with him before they started dating.

isaiah atkins i hope you two know the paperwork for this is insane

charles leclerc well, we're not officially dating. bianca stark-potts so no paperwork yet.

isaiah atkins you're both idiots

isaiah atkins i hope you know that

bianca stark-potts WHAT'S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?

SILVERSTONE 2024

scuderiaferrari, harleykeener, and biancastark_potts have posted new stories

silverstone isn't ready for track terror leclerc and chili sainz.

i leave my phone with these nerds for two fucking minutes

natasha come pick up your fucking sister

bianca stark-potts nat, ask your guard dog to back off.

yelena belova bianca, you are not very nice.

yelena belova everyone says you are a nice person. i think they are liars.

bianca stark-potts YOU CRASHED MY DATE!

yelena belova natasha said i had to make sure he could handle them. i am pleased to announce he is.

yelena belova he is very nice. offered to pay for my meal if i stayed, i did.

joaquin torres love that for you. i would've crashed her date too bianca stark-potts JOAQUIN? I TRUSTED YOU? joaquin torres I WANT TO KNOW WHO HE IS!

sam wilson if we kick tony out will yelena tell us who he is?

yelena belova no, but i would like to inform everyone that sebastian vettel and carlos sainz also know who he is. charles is a little lost on who it is. he thinks it's isaiah like peter.

peter parker IT HAS TO BE HIM. BIANCA WOULD STAB ME IN THE BACK LIKE THAT.

bianca stark-potts I'M SORRY? WHO WAS THE ONE WHO TOLD NICK ABOUT BECK YOU SPIDER-FUCK

maria hill you people have problems. please stop texting each other.

bucky barnes no thanks maria. you can leave.

maria hill has left the chat

peter parker has added maria hill

peter parker NO ONE IS LEAVING! maria hill leave me alone! peter parker NO!

tony stark YELENA I WILL PAY YOU 500 THOUSAND TO TELL ME WHO HE IS!

yelena belova i find it more satisfying to see you lose your mind over this than money. money, which i could easily steal from you

bianca stark-potts i told you, i'll tell you when I WANT TO.

bianca stark-potts keep this up and i'll let you find out from an instagram post.

yelena belova it's not isaiah. i can tell you all that.

tony stark i will drop this, but only because i know bianca is capable of doing that.

bianca stark-potts thanks dad.

series taglist: @burningcupcakefire @spilled-coffee-cup @evans-dejong @elliegrey2803 @bingewatche @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @lorarri @ironspdy @mypage-myfandoms @be-your-coffee-pot @celesteblack08 @vellicora @enchantedthoughts @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @six-call @embrosegraves @justtprachisblog @bionic-donut @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @jamie-selwyn @cool-ultra-nerd @kami10471633 @int3rnetgf @fernandoswarcrimes @skynel09 @arieltwvdtohamflash @brekkers-whore @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @chiliwhore @nothaqks @nataliambc @jensonsonlybutton @octopussesarecool @trouble-sistar @raizelchrysanderoctavius @meadhbhcavanagh

¡leclerc-s speaks! i’m in mourning. no one talk to me. in a perfect world charlos are teammates until at least 2025 when audi comes into play. ALL MEN DO IS LIE! WHAT HAPPENED TO “TOGETHER OR NOTHING?”

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

#leclerc-s #paint the town red series #f1 instagram au #f1 x oc #f1 oc #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 #formula one #f1 fic #formula 1 fic #f1 x female oc #charles leclerc x female oc #marvel social media au #f1 x marvel crossover

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wntrs0ldier · 11 months

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An Offer · part 09

pairing: mob!bucky x reader words: 5,1k warnings: typical mafia (dark themes, language, violence, etc.),

series masterlist

series summary: When your father dies, the only thing you can do for your family and the empire he built, is to marry a powerful man.

It had only been a few hours since the whole disaster.

Before, you had thought that you would return to your family home purely to collect your things; now you were lying in your bed again, in a room buried in the darkness of the night, staring mindlessly at the white dress hanging over the back of a chair. You associated it not with being abandoned, but with the nightmare that was your wedding. Maybe Bucky was doing you a favor? He'd bought you some time before you had to go through all that again, to eventually tie the knot anyway?

You didn't blame him for doing it. He had made it clear to you right from the start that such a relationship was out of the question; in fact, he had told you so at every turn – that he wasn't husband material, that he wasn't trying to be charming, that he was a stubborn asshole, a piece of shit…

But the truth was – despite everything – you didn't see him that way. To you, he was just a scared, confused human trying to do this for you. He had failed, the situation had overwhelmed him, and all you could think about was how much you wanted to see him. Where was he now? What was he up to?

What did Timothy say to him?

Although Michael participated in this conversation, he did not want to reveal its details to you. He decided that it was a man's conversation, and it was better for you to stay in the dark about it. Apart from a businesslike, practical alliance, you no longer had anything in common with the Barnes. But if it had been up to you, you would have crushed that alliance and shoved it down Timothy's throat. However, destroying a long-standing friendship was not in your intentions, but one thing remained clear – Timothy Barnes wasn’t your friend. Now you weren't even sure he had ever been your father's friend. You understood that he cared about securing his Family, but he shouldn't have kept that from you.

You rolled onto your back, your eyes stuck on the ceiling.

At that point, you didn't really care what was going to happen next. You didn't care about your future or the fate of your Family; you figured you had every right to, since submitting to the expectations of others wasn't producing the desired results. You needed a moment without worrying about everything and everyone. You would have liked to focus entirely on yourself, but your thoughts revolved around him. It was far too soon to forget, but why couldn't you hate him? You were naive and weak. But you could allow yourself to be. At least until the morning.

Suddenly, you pulled yourself up to a sitting position. You heard something, or you only thought you did, still, you froze motionless, listening to the sounds of your surroundings.

There it was again – a quiet knock, knock coming from somewhere downstairs.

Your heart beat almost painfully; you left the bed, hesitant and a little stiff, and although you immediately wanted to be at the door, you got out of the bedroom carefully, then went down the stairs to the floor below. Without thinking much, you turned the key in the lock and pulled the handle. And your first instinct was to be terribly disappointed when you found Sam Wilson behind the door.

“We don't have much time,” he began, before you had a chance to say anything. “I parked across the street. A black car,” he emphasized, as if you should remember this particular piece of information. “I will wait ten minutes. If you don't show up, the case will be closed. If you're going to show up, you'd better pack some things.” Without waiting for your answer, he turned and walked away.

You were more than surprised – completely thrown off guard. You had loads of questions, but no time to dwell on them. Sam had only given you ten minutes and you weren't going to waste a second. You couldn't even imagine what it could all mean, but you felt with all your being that you had to make the most of this opportunity. All the heaviness, the soreness, all the lethargy you had been stuck in for hours - it was all gone, replaced by a sudden adrenaline and a need for action.

When you rushed back into your bedroom, you immediately found the bag you had packed with Connie's help much earlier – you weren't sure where you were going to go after the wedding, so you wanted to be prepared, and even though the wedding didn't work out, the bag turned out to be a lifesaver. At least you were confident you'd make it to Sam's car in time.

You grabbed your phone, which you'd turned off anyway beforehand so you wouldn't have to talk to anyone, your charger from the bedside table, and pulled Bucky's sweatshirt from the wardrobe. Everything else you might need fit into the bag. Before just leaving the house, you slipped comfortable sneakers on your feet, meanwhile you turned on your phone and texted Suzie to lock up the house. In the process, you read a message from an unknown number; Sam had tried to contact you earlier.

You stepped out into the cool, refreshing night air. You threw your hood over your head, adjusted the strap of your bag over your shoulder, and, having taken a look around, walked to the other side of the street. You expected to find a typical SUV somewhere on your path, but after a dozen or so steps you reached an area where the only car was a black sedan. So Sam wanted to give the impression of being a civilian. You ran up to the car, and it started up ready to go before you touched the handle.

You shut the door behind you and looked around the interior of the vehicle, but the only person inside was Sam.

“What’s going on?” you asked. “Where are we going?”

“We're going to fix something.”

The car stopped in front of an isolated, abandoned hangar.

You were on pins and needles the whole way, and reaching – as it turned out – the destination didn't bring you peace of mind. Not having the slightest idea what you could expect, you were even more nervous.

You took your bag from the back seat and followed Sam to the entrance. He opened the heavy metal door with a creak indicating a lack of proper care for the building, and let you inside. For a hangar, the interior of this particular one was surprisingly dimly lit; the enormous space was unpleasantly cold.

You heard quiet, echoing footsteps, so you immediately turned to look in that direction. Seeing him, you unconsciously held your breath, and all the emotions bothering you that day, which had not yet found their way out, gathered in your eyes in the form of tears. As the first, salty, burning tear ran down your heated cheek, you dropped your bag so that you could freely cover your face with your hands; to hide from him in this moment of weakness.

“Hey, hey, hey…” Bucky said softly. You didn't even notice when he crossed the distance separating you and got right beside you. He scooped you into his arms, drew you close to his firm, warm body and closed yours in a strong yet gentle embrace; one of his hands remained in place, wrapped around your back, the other moved higher, to the back of your head – he stroked your hair tenderly, and you still felt like hiding, but this time not from him but from the whole world, in his arms; you wanted to melt into his body, into his broad chest.

“You f-fucking-,” you choked out between sobs, tightening your fingers on the material of his t-shirt.

“I know, Y/N. I acted like a dick,” he agreed without hesitation. “Cry it out, just like that,” he praised, keeping on stroking your hair. “Can you take a deep breath? Come on,” he instructed gently. Your chest was beginning to ache because of the spasms of crying clenching your muscles, so you obediently breathed air into your lungs. “Yeah, just like that.”

You knew what you had to do next, and Bucky knew what you needed. Clarity of mind and calm slowly returned to you, but there was still that most important part.

You lifted your head and looked at Bucky’s face, therefore meeting his gaze. He was watching you in such a soft, vulnerable way that made you feel like crying all over again. He moved his hand from the back of your head to the side of your face and tenderly wiped your wet cheek; you could feel his skin on your skin, and the bandage he must have used to wrap the cut in his palm.

That reminded you of the situation from a few hours ago; of the lack of knowledge regarding your appearance here. Despite everything, you didn't have the slightest desire to break out of his arms. Why would you deprive yourself of this comfort and sense of safety? You deserved it, especially after the events of the last twenty-four hours; maybe even the last few months.

“You left me,” you finally spoke, your voice weak because of all the crying.

“Only for a moment.”

“For a moment?” Your forehead puckered. “You destroyed the agreement,” you said, pulling away from him against your will. A flash of mild anger didn't let you stand as close as before. “We are no longer married, I am alone again and still need a husband,” you pointed, determined to make Bucky realize the situation he had put you in.

He sighed heavily. “I know what I did. But I didn't do it without a reason,” he claimed, making you even more confused. He clenched his jaw briefly, not taking his eyes off you. “I owe my uncle a debt. After my father's death, I should’ve been the head of the Family, but I couldn't handle it, I wasn't in the right place. Timothy stepped in, helped me out,” he admitted reluctantly. “Now he wants complete obedience from me; he expects me to do absolutely everything for him, and basically, he is right, because otherwise it would be a betrayal. But I couldn't let him use this against you. You don't owe him anything.”

Now you understood his position – you understood it, and in that moment you hated the feeling, your forbearance. But you said nothing; just folded your arms, waiting for further explanation.

“We can still get married,” Bucky continued. “But outside his rules and conditions.”

Your eyes went round, that familiar wave of warmth ran through your body. “What… What do you mean?”

“All we have to do is actually get married. Legally, without any deals, tricks or fucking loopholes.” He took a small step towards you, and probably didn't predict that you wouldn't move away this time. “We'll just create a proper prenup, and when you want to divorce, you'll get back everything that was yours before the marriage.”

You raised your eyebrows. Up to now you had been convinced that he had run away because he didn't want to get married, and it turned out that he wanted to get married again. You didn't even know which question you should ask first. “Buck…” you said tentatively, as if that would bring him back to his senses. “An actual marriage is something different, something more... real.”

“People get married for various reasons,” he asserted, not giving up. Your sceptical approach was no obstacle. “For money, insurance, visas…” Bucky listed casually. And he was himself again – a calculating, clear-thinking strategist. He impressed the hell out of you with that. “As my wife, you will still become part of my Family, and this’ll give you protection. Except it will all happen more naturally, not like my uncle wanted. We will have more freedom.”

There was still too much chaos in your head for you to be able to pick out any rational thought. “Wait…” You raised your hand, closing your eyes for a moment. “Why didn't you tell me any of this earlier? Why did you leave me like that? I was scared to death.”

“My plan was just coming clear then, at the wedding,” he confessed, his lips pressed together in an unenthusiastic smile. “I didn't want to tell you about it till I was sure. Till I could find some safe place for us.”

His words effectively made you soft. “And did you find one..?”

You could see that for a split second he hesitated; as if he wasn't sure how you would react to further news. “Vegas..?”

“Of course Vegas.” You rolled your eyes, shaking your head.

“Look, it'll be quick and relatively painless.”

“I haven't agreed yet.”

“Then why didn't you take off the ring?”

Your eyes wandered to your hand. Bucky was a little too observant for your taste; his grandmother's ring stayed on your finger. Unlike the wedding band. Maybe you kept it subconsciously, since the ring had such sentimental value?

“You already ran away once, so why do you still want this? You could’ve never come back, wouldn't it be easier?” Having looked back at his face, you could tell he wasn’t offended by your question.

“You still need me. This marriage,” Bucky answered, and didn't do it with audacity or meanness; he was simply stating a fact. “And Timothy fucked me over, so I want to do the same to him, just for the hell of it.” He shrugged indifferently. For a while, he stared at you in silence. “And… I didn't see through his intrigue, because I was distracted… By you.” His jaw clenched. You swallowed hard, your palms became wet, and a warmth flared up again in the pit of your stomach. Bucky turned his gaze away, sticking it into the ground. “So, I need this marriage too, I guess.”

You took an uneven breath and scratched the back of your neck. Bucky was distracted by thoughts of your safety, or...? “What other choice do I have?” you asked; partly out of curiosity, partly for the appearance that this marriage was not your last resort at all.

Bucky immediately brought his eyes back to you, his face taking on the harsh expression with which he usually handled business. “If you don't agree to do this, I will personally find you a suitable partner. I won't be more picky than necessary. And then I will disappear from your life for good,” he said bluntly.

You nodded slowly, absorbing that side of the story. You gave yourself some time to imagine it somehow – you with someone else; someone who wasn't Bucky. Then you remembered the weeks of longing when you were dating John Walker, and already knew that you didn't stand much chance of surviving without Bucky beside you.

Still, you decided to approach it with calm. “Okay.”

To your surprise, Bucky's face lit up with a slightly excited, satisfied smile. “Yeah?”

You nodded again, also unable to stop a grin creeping onto your lips.

“Whose house is this?” you asked as the headlights fell on the stately building.

“My godmother’s,” Bucky answered, turning off the engine. “I know there is no lack of hotels in Vegas,” he added straight away. “But I need a good night's sleep, and I trust my aunt enough to get some shut-eye.”

You shrugged. “I don't mind. After all, we'll all become one big, loving family, right?”

Apart from the clear, audible irony in your voice, Bucky smirked with delight. You wondered when the thought of marriage – of you being together – had stopped burning him. You supposed he was just exhausted; you both were. After a total of forty hours of car trip, interrupted only by bathroom stops. You took turns at the wheel so that the other could rest, but Bucky's stubbornness resulted in him driving most of the time.

You got out of the car. Bucky opened the trunk so you could get your bags out, then you headed to the front door. Despite the evening, it was hot outside; not as torturous as during the day, but it was doing its job.

The aunt that Bucky mentioned greeted you right at the door. She put her arm around Bucky's shoulders, their cheeks brushed together. In your case, she respected your possible need for personal space; she looked at you carefully but not suspiciously. “Is this the girl?”

Bucky also glanced at you, as if he had to make sure his aunt was talking about you; as if he had to make sure you were still there. “Yeah. Y/N,” he confirmed.

“Marion.” She held out her hand to you, which you shook. “Jamie told me a little about the situation you kids are in,” she began, and you were prepared to hear some scolding words, disapproval. “That prick, my brother, didn't inform me – not to mention the invitation – about my godson's wedding?” She snorted with annoyance and almost contempt. “You’re doing the right thing, and have my full support, and the place to stay, for as long as you want.”

Although you and Bucky preferred to freshen up and rest after your trip, Marion persuaded you to have dinner with her. Her justifications for why you should do so were really reasonable – firstly, her chef had served the meal minutes before you arrived; secondly, Marion was going to leave the house right after dinner, and as befits an exemplary hostess, she wanted to spend some time with her guests. And with that, you had the opportunity to get to know Bucky's aunt a little better.

She ran a casino and owned an elegant nightclub, she was independent not only financially – she had no husband and no children; she lived as she wished and with whom she wished, and she must have been really organized, since the businesses she operated did not fail, on the contrary, they were doing very well, as you could tell from the luxurious furnishings of her house, expensive designer clothes and sophisticated dishes, prepared by her costly chef.

You were jealous of this life; maybe not its pace, but this independence – Marion Barnes didn't have to marry anyone to stay alive. You learned that the Barnes simply didn't do that – they didn't give away their children; they didn't arrange marriages; they didn't take part in weddings for the sake of business. Considering Timothy, this wasn't a very strong rule.

Pulled abruptly out of your sleep by something that seemed so terrifyingly real, your gaze wandered unconsciously over your surroundings; a new room, a strange room. Only after a while did you remember where you were and why. You were given two separate bedrooms; Bucky didn't care where he was going to sleep, and you felt a little more comfortable alone. But at that moment you didn’t feel comfortable at all.

Memories of what you had just experienced swirled vividly in your mind – you were standing in Timothy's cave, wearing a white dress and veil, and you were about to be married by Elvis himself. The thing was, Bucky, your groom, was sitting in the front row right next to his uncle; they looked at you with amusement, whispered something to each other and burst out laughing. Bucky never stood at the altar; he whispered back and forth to Timothy and they both laughed. They laughed at you – at how stupid and naive you were.

You got out of bed and walked noiselessly to the bathroom. Having turned on the cold water, you washed your face. It helped; you felt less panicked. But were you still so sure of your decision?

Because of the dry air, your throat was craving water; anything to drink, so instead of returning to your bedroom, you went to the kitchen. Despite the fact that the whole house was air-conditioned, the downstairs was much more pleasantly cool than the floor above. Maybe you felt this way because of the cooled tiles your bare feet touched.

Having found a glass in one of the cabinets, you filled it with tap water; it had a slightly strange aftertaste, but you wouldn't call it bad. Besides, your dry throat would settle for anything.

“Can’t sleep?”

You almost dropped the glass. Though you knew his voice, you were still startled to see Bucky when you turned around. He was leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen entrance, and you – regardless of the temperature around – felt hot again. The muscles of his crossed arms strained and accentuated, but you had seen those before. Unlike his torso. You knew he had a broad chest, but shirtless it evoked a completely different sensation in you; you also expected a well-sculpted stomach, but expecting and seeing with your own eyes were two different things, and your own body didn't let you confuse the two experiences. And his thighs? Oh, his thighs…

Apart from his face – as beautiful when it expressed tenderness as when it expressed indifference, his spirit – so unpredictable but caring for you for no apparent reason, there was also his body – perfect, godlike, seeming to have cost a ton of work.

With restless eyes you scanned what was in front of you, your throat getting dry again. You were stunned, as if you had never seen a man in just his underwear before. You had. But you were convinced that you didn't miss any physical contact after that situation in the nightclub; after you almost let some man get into your pants. And you didn't miss it. You didn't miss just some man; you desired Bucky – you'd been drawn to him since that evening when he and Timothy turned up at your house.

You suddenly remembered that he could see you too; see the way you were looking at him. Tentatively, you lifted your gaze to his face – puffy because of the recently interrupted sleep, rested – and met his stare. For a brief moment you wondered why he let you do that; why he didn't stop you.

You brought the glass back to your lips and drank the rest of the water.

“I had a bad dream. And you..?”

“And I have my future wife in the back of my mind, and something told me to check if she was safe,” Bucky said with conviction, pulling away from the doorframe. He casually walked closer and rested his lower back against the edge of the kitchen counter. “Tell me.”

“About my dream?” you asked, to which he nodded. “There is nothing to talk about. It was... weird.” You shrugged. “I think... I think I'm subconsciously afraid of this wedding.” You nibbled your bottom lip and looked away. “You left me the first time, so who knows what will happen next time.”

Bucky gasped. “I didn't leave you. And I never was going to. I just changed the plan,” he asserted. “I know I should have told you earlier.” Seeing your lips parting, he interrupted you before you had the chance to speak. “I made a mistake, I know that now. And I will keep making them. I'm just learning, Y/N.”

“And all of this has no right to hurt me, and I can't get angry, because from the very start, you didn't want any of it. I get it,” you answered calmly.

“I didn't say that,” Bucky protested, standing right in front of you. “I said you're not in my debt, and that hasn't changed. I-” he paused for a moment, his mouth set in a hard line. “The truth is, I would not let you marry anyone else. I couldn't stand it. I would go fucking mad,” he added. Firmly, yet cautiously, he grabbed your hand and brought it to his face. Without taking his eyes away from yours, he placed a barely noticeable kiss on your palm; on the still unhealed cut. “I told you,” he whispered. “I stepped into your life, and now I can’t get out. Don’t want to. Okay?”

You replied with a delicate nod.

“No, baby,” Bucky continued in the same low tone, and a cloud of butterflies rose up in your stomach. “I need to hear it from you. To be sure you understand.”

Your bodies were only millimeters apart; you could feel the heat radiating from him, the warmth of his breath on your cheeks.

“I understand.”

“You understand what?” he asked softly, persistently searching for something in your eyes – Fear? Decisiveness? Resentment? Permission?

“That you’re jealous-”

“Very jealous.” His voice was more like a heavy breath.

“And that you would be angry if I married someone else-” you added. Bucky sucked hungrily on his bottom lip, his stare seemed half-conscious, he shook his head slowly. “You would go mad,” you corrected yourself.

“Mm-hm,” he murmured, and keeping his instincts in check, covered the rest of the distance separating you, then pressed his lips to yours. You instinctively lowered your eyelids, and as his soft mouth laid on yours, you were hit by a wave of unknown sensations.

You welcomed him without thinking, throwing your arms around his neck.

When you did; when you allowed his mouth to devour, to abuse yours, his inner leash tightened and then snapped, enabling him to let it all go. He thrust his body against yours with surprising force and need – it was so rapid that the bottom of your spine collided painfully with the edge of the countertops.

You moaned – not from the feeling of sudden discomfort in your lower back, but from the overload of impulses coming from everywhere; his lips turning the mouths of you both into a wet, sweet mess, his stubble so rough on your chin and cheeks, his massive body pushing against yours, caging it and cutting off a way out that you hadn't even considered.

Bucky's hands desperately slipped down the sides of your body, over the silky material of your nightgown, and stopped under your tights; he squeezed your ass, making you gasp. He lifted you up, and you involuntarily wrapped your legs around his hips; he sat you on the countertop and pressed himself between your thighs. His tongue slid between your lips, and again, you eagerly welcomed it. Warm, soft, wet, it explored the inside of your mouth, the texture and taste of your own tongue; and this time it was Bucky who let out a whimper – desperate, yearning for a feeling he'd never experienced before; this horrible hunger you were driving him into. There was no doubt that Bucky wanted you as much as you wanted him.

You felt something hard on the inside of your thigh. You barely pulled away from his mouth to see it – the material of his briefs stretching over his stiff cock, stopping it from jumping out. You felt lightheaded when staring at it, but also somewhat delighted – it was all for you, because of you.

You dared to reach out your hand for what was soon to be yours; your fingertips touched - still through the material of his underwear – his bulging length, and Bucky let out a rasping sound. He immediately grabbed your wrist, stopping you from going any further.

With lips parted and swollen from kisses, eyes full of desire yet innocence, you looked at his face. He wasn't angry or displeased; he was burning with an aching need, and you both knew that sinking his cock inside you would put out that fire, ease that pain – for you both.

“I can’t,” Bucky said, panting. “I want to do it right, the way you deserve. And now I don't trust myself.”

You didn't share his opinion – you were ready to take him now, anytime. But you respected his boundaries. “Okay,” you whispered; your voice weaker than you expected. Bucky smiled, then placed a tender kiss on your forehead. Not being able to resist, you glanced restlessly at his crotch again.

“Don't worry, baby, I won't touch myself. I'll wait for you, promise,” he said with slight amusement somewhere into your hair, leaving another kiss there. He moved away a little. “Come on. I'll walk you to your room,” he instructed and put his hands on your hips so that you could safely slide off the countertop.

“You don’t have to, I’ll be fine,” you claimed, but in reality, you were glad to have him right next to you – your legs were like jelly.

“Yeah, I know, but-” He exhaled heavily, glancing down. “I need to, uh- walk it off.”

Drunk with all the touch, the heat, the wetness and the rest of the experiences of a moment ago, you let out a soft giggle.

True to his word, Bucky escorted you to your bedroom. Seeing his exposed body, remembering how much strength he possessed, you were amazed at how someone so big, so strong moved so silently. With that, you realized how little you knew about him; how little you had managed to observe so far in a man who was to play such an important role in your life.

Feeling his hand on your hip, you looked at him immediately. “You okay?” he asked.

You were tired, distracted, still insatiable. Nevertheless, you nodded in response, and after a brief consideration – which was more like staring into a black hole – you climbed on your toes, and, resting your hands on his shoulders, crashed your lips into his. Bucky instinctively wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing you against his body as tightly as possible. He grunted into your mouth.

Although there was still that devouring fire smoldering between you, that kiss was different from the previous one – slow, lazy, as if you were giving each other time to get to know your lips, even though they were still pulsating from the last caresses.

Bucky's mouth parted; he let out a loud, heavy breath. You sucked on his lower lip, then bit it - a little harder than you both expected; Bucky hissed, and you tasted blood. You pulled away, but he didn't look angry or even shocked. He touched his lips with his thumb, and when he saw the blood, he smirked. “Don’t make me break my promise, baby.”

“Sorry-” you said quietly, but he shook his head.

“That’s okay,” Bucky answered, leaned towards you again and pecked on your lips gently. “If you have a bad dream again, you come to me, alright?”

“Alright.”

He opened the door for you and waited until you got inside and made your way back to the bed. He gave you another smile before disappearing from your sight.

You let out a heavy breath, closed your eyes and flopped back on the mattress. You were aware that you wouldn't fall asleep, but it wasn't the nightmares that were to blame.

a/n: feel free to share your thoughts, they are more than welcomed 🥰

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urdepressedslut · 11 months

Text

Birthday Blues

♡ Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Platonic!Sam Wilson x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: It’s your birthday, and unfortunately you seem to be going through the birthday blues. Sam and Bucky won’t let you be upset on your special day, which leads to Bucky revealing his feelings for you.

♡ Warnings: fluff, self hate, birthday depression, angst, bucky being boyfriend material

The days counting down to your birthday used to be filled with happiness— pure joy seeping from your pores. But as you got older, emotions shifted. Instead of the uncontainable excitement, you felt sick to your stomach. Dreading the clocks ticking when the hours turned into minutes, into seconds.

You weren’t sure what had caused the sudden shift, because you could recall many birthdays that you had genuinely enjoyed. They were some of your most cherished memories, wishing you could feel that lost joy again.

You had lost people along the way, gone through things no one should have to go through at such a young age. But those were the cards you were dealt, and you couldn’t change the past.

Maybe it was the fact that your loved ones weren’t around for your birthday anymore. Maybe it was because no matter what, you’d always have the highest expectations and only feel disappointed the day of. Maybe it was because you were invisible, forgotten throughout the entire year, and the overwhelming amount of sudden attention was too much. Or maybe you just felt you didn’t deserve to be celebrated.

The list could go on and on, every reason unexplainable — but you couldn’t help it.

It was the morning of your birthday, and your mind was already punishing you. You stayed sitting on the edge of your bed, attempting to control yourself, the familiar burning in your nose not going away.

You would smile and say thank you. You could do that today. Just for one day.

You internally chanted to yourself, you would not let your emotions show.

Sam had called you and wanted to meet for breakfast, but you had a sneaking suspicion that he was trying to surprise you for your birthday— buying your breakfast. You had preferred to stay home and sulk, but you couldn’t say no to Sam, he was practically your brother.

Making your way towards the building, you noticed it wasn’t crowded. Sam shouted and waved you over, seated at a nice table outside. With a wave you headed towards him, forcing yourself to smile.

“Hey birthday girl!” Sam announced, and you tried your hardest to keep the wince from showing.

You didn’t understand the nagging, uncomfortable feeling those words had given you.

“Hey Sam.” You greeted, giving him a quick hug before sitting down across from him.

He immediately shoved a small box your way, a huge grin on his face.

You huffed and gave him a knowing look.

“Sam, I thought we talked about no gifts.”

“We did— I got you one anyway. Besides, you’re gonna love it.” He told you proudly, shoving the box in your hand.

Giving him a fake smile, you opened the small box. You tried to ignore the small voice in the back of your head, saying that you didn’t deserve it.

Lifting the lid carefully, you were surprised to see a silver necklace, the charm designed as Falcon wings. Of course Sam had to go and do something so adorable.

“Sam,” You whispered, pulling out the necklace to examine closer, “This is… I love it. Thank you.”

Your eyes blurred with tears, and you weren’t sure if it was from sadness— or genuine joy.

“I thought you would.” He said teasingly.

The waitress came and took your coffee orders, leaving you and Sam to create small talk. The usual asking how things have been, updates about work— nothing too interesting. But it was much needed Sam time.

“Oh, I hope you don’t mind but— I invited Bucky.” Sam told you.

“Why would I mind? I assumed he was coming anyways.”

“You assumed? Or you hoped?” Sam suggested, raising his eyebrows.

You rolled your eyes, knowing what he was getting at. According to Sam, it was very obvious that you had a crush on the metal armed soldier. In your defense, it must not be that obvious if Bucky had yet to notice.

“Whatever, I’m just glad he’s coming.” You tried to play it off casual, but the mention of his name had your cheeks crimson.

“You know, I don’t know what you guys are waiting for. You both like each other, so do something about it.” Sam said dramatically.

“You’ve been saying that for a long time, yet— he hasn’t made a move. I bet he doesn’t even like me like that and you’re just delusional.” You pointed out.

Sam leaned his head back and gave a hearty laugh, the sound echoing off the building walls. You watched him with raised brows.

“I’m sorry,” He laughed, trying to catch his breath, “You guys are so clueless it’s sad.”

You rolled your eyes again, thanking the waitress for dropping off the coffees. Deciding to ignore him for a second, you sipped on your drink. Letting your mind wander.

It was possible that Bucky could like you, you guys had grown close. There was obvious tension, but you had always thought it was one sided. He always seemed so relaxed, not bothered. You didn’t consider yourself to be the observant type, but you hadn’t noticed Bucky hinting at anything. He never proposed himself to want something more, he seemed comfortable being friends. Maybe that’s what he wanted.

You suppose it was partially your fault that things hadn’t changed between you and him. But in all honesty, you were scared. You were anxious to put yourself out there— you didn’t have much experience with dating or relationships. But you also found yourself nervous around him, even if the thought of expressing your feelings to him passed through, you’d be a nervous wreck.

“Hey,” Sam called out, “I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just hard seeing two people like each other, and they’re both too scared to do something about it.”

You furrowed your brows at him, wondering when he became enhanced.

“Can you like, read minds now or something?” You questioned playfully.

Sam laughed again, shaking his head.

“Maybe.” He joked.

You both fell into a comfortable silence, sipping your drinks and just overall enjoying the peaceful ambience. That was until Sam cleared his throat, getting your attention.

“Uh… I gotta take this call.” He told you.

With furrowed brows you looked from his phone to his face. His phone wasn’t ringing.

“What call?” You asked suspiciously, wondering what Sam was up to now.

Without another word, Sam glanced behind you, quickly walking away in the other direction. He was holding his phone up to his ear, but you could clearly tell it was all an act. You just didn’t know why.

“Okay?” You mumbled to yourself.

You sensed someone’s presence approaching, and you snuck a glance from behind you. Your eyes widened slightly, butterflies swarming your stomach at the sight of Bucky walking towards you— a bouquet of flowers in his metal hand.

He met your gaze, smiling warmly, his eyes sparkling with something you’d never seen before. The look he’d given you only made the butterflies flutter more violently. You forced a smile back, but you couldn’t help the sudden nervousness you felt at him approaching.

“Hey,” He handed you the flowers, “Happy birthday.”

You took the flowers with clammy hands, noticing just how beautiful the bouquet was. Your eyes trailed over the different petals, until your eyes landed on a tiny card amongst the bouquet.

Happy birthday doll

Love, Bucky

Your eyes seemed to blur out everything but the single word. Love. It was merely a friendly gesture, but you couldn’t help the feeling that flourished through you.

“I— Thank you Bucky. They’re beautiful, you didn’t have to do this.” You assured him, glancing up to his towering form.

“It’s no problem. You deserve more than just flowers, but there’s always later.” He hinted, taking a seat in Sam’s spot.

You set the flowers down in front of you, giving him a questionable look.

“Later? What’s… what’s later?” You wondered.

Bucky smirked, shaking his head playfully.

“It’s a surprise. I’m not telling.” He told you.

You couldn’t stop the feeling that you didn’t deserve any of this from showing. Although you were incredibly thankful that the boys were trying to make today your day— all the thank you’s were still tasting sour on your tongue.

“Really Buck, you don’t have to do that.” You told him lowly, dropping your gaze to the table.

Bucky noticed the change in your mood immediately, frowning at the way your face dropped at the mention of a surprise.

“It’s for your birthday, you’ll love it.” He added, attempting to bring that beautiful smile he loved, back.

His words only added to your sadness, the uncomfortable feeling of attention from your birthday— getting to you. It annoyed you to no end that you had to ruin everyone’s day by being difficult. He was only trying to do something nice, and you were being unappreciative. You hated yourself for it.

“I’m sorry, you’re right. I’m sure I will love it. Cant wait for the surprise.” You tried to push out.

Bucky could see you lying right through your teeth, but he wasn’t upset. He was only worried about what was causing your distress, especially on your birthday.

“Okay, you wanna tell me what’s going on?” He started.

You shook your head, trying to keep a happy expression, but you didn’t seem to have the energy to smile.

“Doll, I can see you’re upset about something. Is it about something I did? Was it the surprise?” Bucky asked, genuinely worried he’d done something to upset you.

You shook your head more rapidly this time, stopping his rambling.

“No, no Buck. It’s not you It’s… Its me.”

He nodded in understanding, but still had a confused look.

“Talk to me, what’s going on?” He asked softly, no judgement in his eyes.

You took a deep breath, standing from your seat.

“It’s stupid, you’ll think i’m being dramatic.” You muttered, hugging yourself protectively.

“I won’t think that, and it’s not stupid if it’s bothering you. If you tell me, maybe I could help.” He suggested.

Your heart swelled at his words— his want to help you feel better. In a way you already were feeling better, just him being around you was enough.

He stood up, walking towards you. Despite both of you standing, he still towered over you. But it didn’t make you feel small, it made you feel protected— safe.

“You shouldn’t be upset on your birthday.” He whispered, the intention behind his words good. But it had made you internally wince.

“Exactly!” You exclaimed, “I shouldn’t be upset on my birthday because it’s supposed to be a happy day! I know that… But for some reason, I’m just not happy. Okay? I don’t know why, I just hate birthdays— and I never said anything because you and Sam seemed more excited for my birthday than me. I didn’t have the heart to tell you guys. Besides, it’s totally stupid and I just need to get over it.”

Bucky was silent for a moment, reading your expression. His eyes softening at your trembling lip, the way your eyes were glossy. He was shocked at your little outburst, unaware that you didn’t enjoy your birthday that much. He stepped closer, using his metal hand to tilt your chin up.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize,” He said softy, “What made you feel this way?”

“I don’t know… It’s a lot of things I guess. But I just don’t feel like I deserve all these nice things.” You admitted, feeling embarrassed.

“Doll… You’re so special— it kills me that you can’t see it.” He told you, cupping your cheek fully with his metal hand, “I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.”

You swallowed nervously, the smooth coolness of his hand on your skin making your stomach flip. You gazed into his eyes, surprised to find a certain tenderness within them. It’s like you had always known it was there, but never thought that it was directed at you.

“Buck I…” You hesitated, “I’m not special.”

“Maybe you don’t think so, which I’ll never understand— but you’re special to me.” He confessed.

Heat spread through your cheeks, dusting your skin a flushed pink. His words sent tingles throughout your body, and suddenly the air seemed thicker.

“I was gonna wait until we were on the ferris wheel tonight but— yeah, that was the surprise. I was taking you to a carnival.” He revealed, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks now.

You smiled warmly, eyes watering from happiness this time. The gesture endearing, causing your heart to swell.

“I was gonna wait until we were on the ferris wheel, to tell you that I like you— mainly because I needed extra time to talk myself up, I’m not very good at this whole dating thing anymore.” He told you truthfully, blushing from embarrassment that he had lost his charm.

You felt relived, happy and scared that he’d finally told you how he felt. Waiting anxiously for this day to come, but now that it had come— well you just couldn’t believe it. This birthday may end up being your favorite one ever.

“Well, I’m sure it’s obvious but… I like you too— a lot.” You told him, attempting to duck your head down.

Bucky tilted your chin back up and smiled at you, his eyes soft and cherishing.

“Took us awhile huh?” He joked, feeling giddy that you both felt the same way.

“Unfortunately.” You agreed, leaning your head against his chest, sliding your arms around his back.

“Happy birthday doll.” He whispered into your hair.

You and Bucky stayed embraced, enjoying the warmth. Nothing could beat the feeling of finally being with each other. The moment was short lived, being interrupted by Sam’s shout from behind Bucky.

“Fucking finally!”

A/N: just a random bday oneshot 🎈

#bucky barnes #marvel cinematic universe #the winter soldier #reader insert #fluff #buckybarnes #marvel imagines #sebastian stan #light angst #oneshot #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fluff

587 notes · View notes

megamindsecretlair · 2 months

Note

i need me some one night stand Sam smut, maybe they met at a bar or mutual friend’s wedding/any event. whatever your little heart desires i just know that it’s gonna be amazing especially with Sam’s nasty behind. ily 🩷

A/N: I know I keep apologizing, but I am SOOO SORRY! I did not intend for this to take so long. I know you said it's cool, but I can't help it. Thank you for being so patient with me. ILY, ILY!

Feel Like I Do

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. Some sentences are intentional AAVE. SMUT. Cursing, PIV, oral (female and male receiving), teasing, use of pet names, mentions of birth control, size kink, praise kink, one night stand smut.

Summary: See Ask. While out at a club for your friend's birthday, you bump into Sam. He's sweet, charming, and there's something achingly familiar about him. You go home with him, needing to see where this goes.

Word Count: 5,505k

A/N: When an ask kicks my ass, it kicks my ass!!!! However, once it finally came together, it flowed so beautifully. Thank you @planetblaque for helping me! ILY. This is based off of one my fave songs. Likes are always awesome. Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! I love hearing your thoughts! I block ageless blogs.

Taglist: @multiversefanfics @chaos-4baby @leahnicole1219 @capswife @anghstybean @targaryenvampireslayer @sheabutterbabes @browngirldominion @theunsweetenedtruth @thecookiebratz @we-outsiiiide @iv0rysoap @nerdieforpedro

The cover band was too loud. You grimaced as you made your way past the press of bodies towards the bar. You could barely hear the singer and the instruments sounded disharmonious on top of it. You hated nights like these. Why couldn’t your friend’s birthday fall during the week?

This was your favorite club but you mostly went during the week when you could sit back and relax. There were less people, less lecherous men, and you could actually hear who was playing. It was a great spot to discover new and local talent.

You shoved past a guy leaning in some poor girl’s face. You dug your elbow into his side hard enough for him to turn around. The girl he was speaking with gave you a grateful smile while she took off, disappearing into the crowd.

You waved innocently to the man. There was a small opening at the bar that you made a beeline for. As soon as you reached it, you lifted a hand to get the bartender’s attention. At the same time, a man bumped into you and raised his own hand.

“Hey!” You said.

The man looked at you and you gasped. He was so cute. Smooth chestnut skin, a neat goatee, and high cheekbones. He wore a simple outfit with dark jeans and a carmine T-shirt but he wore it extremely well. The shirt bunched around his upper arms, bulging under his massive muscles.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you! Please, go ahead,” he said. He waved for you to go ahead.

“Thanks. You’re not a regular here ,” you said.

The man shook his head. “Trying to cheer up my friend,” he said. He pointed to a section of the club where the booths were. There were two men sitting there. One with blond hair and looked like he bench pressed entire trucks for a living. The other had darker, longer hair and was whispering something to him.

“Girl troubles?” You asked.

“Always is. I’m Sam,” he said. He held out his hand. You shook his hand and introduced yourself. It was warm and big, strong in a way most men these days weren’t. You reluctantly dropped his hand, wondering what the hell was wrong with you. You just met the man and there was no reason to feel so..connected to him already. As if you knew him.

“What brings you to this madhouse tonight?” Sam asked. You both waved for the bartender’s attention, but he was too busy at the other end of the bar. It’d be a while before he made his way down this way. The other bartender was too preoccupied by a group of guys on the opposite end. Fuck, you just wanted a damn drink.

“Birthday for my friend,” you said. You pointed to your friends in a different booth. They were currently whooping, yelling and throwing their hands up while they danced. They looked like they were having fun. It was the goal and you were happy.

“Ah, so they send the errand people to grab their drinks, huh?” Sam asked.

“Seems like. But we’re good friends, so we’ll grin and bear it,” you said.

Sam nodded. “Since we’re gonna be here a while, you mentioned that I wasn’t a regular here. Does that mean you are?”

It was your turn to nod. You leaned on the bar and faced him better. There were too many people crowding on either side, screaming for the two bartenders behind the bar. They pressed against you until you were flush against Sam. To his credit, he did his best to get away and give you some room.

“Guess we’re getting personal tonight. How ‘bout your next drink is on me as an apology?” He asked.

Something about him was so disarming. It was unnerving. Your natural defenses were useless against him. Usually you were trying to get out of there as fast as you could. Picking up women in bars always seemed so cheesy to you. Full of bad pick up lines and beer goggles.

Sam seemed as sober as a judge. And he smelled divine. Something earthy. Something that reminded you of taking hikes in the forest, faint mist in the air, and the sound of a small waterfall nearby.

You hadn’t had much to drink but being near him was like you were buzzed. Like time was hazy and the only plane of existence was inside the club. You swayed a bit towards him. Drawn to his gravitational pull.

“I’d like that, but no apology needed.” You smiled at him, suddenly at a loss of what to do or say. Your body was becoming electrified. The sounds in the place receded to the background as your attention narrowed to Sam.

“No apology needed, but how about an answer to my question in exchange? Is it strange that I feel like we know each other?”

You grinned. Good, it wasn’t just you. You shook your head. “Right? Like what is that?”

Sam ran through places that you might have in common. Like grocery stores, no. Or gyms, hell no. He ran around nearabout the Washington monument every day in the wee hours of the morning.

“If I’m up before the sun is up, shoot me,” you said.

He laughed, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. He had a good laugh. One that you wanted to hear over and over.

“Not a morning person, huh?” He asked.

“Not even a little bit.” You were quite the terror in the morning when you woke up. As if the day owed you a personal favor for getting up on time. You had no time for morning chats or chores or anything that required brain activity until your first cup of coffee. Even then, it was hit or miss on how your mood would progress until the sun was higher in the sky and you didn’t feel like crawling back into bed.

You abandoned the drinks and simply talked to Sam. You learned more about him, about his time spent in the military and that he was a counselor now. You told him about your soul-sucking job and how you came here often to listen to local bands.

He had a great voice that melted like butter around everything he said. And the way he told a story made you feel like you were really there.

Every now and then, you would get bumped into and in turn, bump into him. Every push against his body was its own hit of dopamine. Every time he steadied you, his hands wrapped around your forearms, turned your brain to mush. Every time he smiled, you wanted to grab him and never let go.

“We still haven’t gotten any drinks,” he said.

You chuckled as you realized that you were probably talking to him for the last thirty minutes. In your own bubble, getting to know one another.

You looked towards your friends. They were still dancing but were now on their phones. You pulled yours out to see the dozens of missed texts. The threats to call the police started. You texted them back to know that you were still alive and not kidnapped. You showed Sam and he laughed.

“We’re pretty bad friends,” he said. He looked towards his own. The situation looked a bit better. Maybe the dark-haired one was able to cheer up the blonde.

“So bad! What are they gonna do with us?” You asked.

“Well, I still haven’t gotten you that drink but it doesn't look like we’re having much luck at the bar. I can’t let you leave without making it up to you,” he said.

You grinned and looked towards the dance floor. The cover band had mercifully stopped and now the DJ was spinning records you could actually dance to. You turned your attention back to Sam. “How about a dance?”

He looked towards the crowded dance floor and then turned back to you with a chuckle. “Think you can keep up?”

You giggled and stepped away from the bar. You glided your hand across his chest and he looked down to follow the movement. “Can you?” You asked.

Sam smirked. He grabbed your hand and led you to the dance floor. The bottom of the floor was illuminated with squares of color. Neon blues, reds, and purples danced over you as you stepped onto the floor.

You started bobbing your shoulders and getting into the rhythm. Sam followed your lead, getting closer and shaking his hips. His hands coasted along your exposed arms in your black tank top, pulling you closer and closer. You grinned at him.

The song changed to a funky, techno type hip-hop song. It made everyone scream with joy. You popped your booty more to match the quick beat and Sam turned you around. He grabbed the belt loops of your jeans and pulled you closer into his body roughly, your back to his chest.

You twerked on him, rubbing and grinding your booty into his crotch. If you weren’t mistaken, he was definitely happy about that. He already seemed so thick and heavy behind his jeans but he had given no indication that his mind went there.

He dropped his head closer to your shoulder, his breath fanned across your damp neck. Sweat pooled along the slopes of your body. He switched up the way you were dancing on him, controlling your movements to the way he liked and you were powerless to do anything but go along with it.

You slid your hand along the back of his neck and cupped his head. He moaned in your ear as you continued this dance, rocking with each other like you wanted to devour each other whole.

You thought that feeling like you were the only two people in the room was a joke. Experiencing it with Sam was surreal as no one else mattered. No one else existed.

He moved his hands from the belt loops to grab your hips. His fingers rode up your shirt a fraction so that he could play with your skin where your jeans stopped. Just that tiny bit of friction, his calloused fingers rubbing along your smooth skin, made your panties even more soaked than what they already were.

You were in tune with this man. You felt him on a cellular level. Every breath of his tugged at your cells. Every sound he made tickled your veins. Everytime he ground his hips into you, to let you know nonverbally that he was feeling you, was like a twitch in your muscles.

Your bodies moved in sync. Neither one of you could keep your hands from roaming. Seeking. A compulsion for more and more. There was no end in sight. No limit for this need driving you. A need to feel him, all of him.

Sam kissed your neck, licked right over the pounding vein in your neck and you dropped your head back against his shoulder. This felt too right. Too overwhelmingly good that you wanted to freeze this moment. To exist in limbo with him.

His thumbs pressed into your lower back and you moaned. Sam continued kissing up your neck until you turned your head. Your lips pressed together, a mini explosion all its own that rocked you to your core.

His lips were warm, inviting. His breath was minty with a subtle hint of beer. He kissed as well as he danced. Perhaps better.

“Come back to my place,” he said against your lips and then dived in for another scorching kiss.

“Yes,” you answered, though he hadn’t phrased it like a question. God, you wanted to see where this could go. It was soul crushing to part for even a minute. You didn’t know him. But you felt like you did. Like you had known him your entire life.

He stopped dancing and took your hand from his head. He pulled you off of the dance floor. “Meet me outside and then follow me to my place.”

You nodded. You departed, holding onto each other until you’d either have to let go or risk injury. You watched each other until the crowd obscured him. You took a deep breath, returning to reality for half a second.

You poked your way through the crowd, reaching your friends at the booth.

“Who the hell was that?” Your friend, Alana, said and waved a napkin in front of her face. The birthday girl, Cece, nodded her head.

“Shit, I feel like I need a damn cigarette,” she said.

You waved them off. Your insides were jelly, a giddy nervousness that wouldn’t quit. “Will you hate me for dipping?”

“One of us needs to get laid. Go ‘head girl,” Cece said and hi-fived you.

“I love you, I love you,” you said. You hugged them both and made them promise to look out for each other.

“I’ll accept my name as the middle name for the baby ya’ll finna make!” Cece yelled and you smacked her arm.

“Nasty ass!” You waved goodbye and headed to the parking lot. You kept expecting for that feeling to disappear. That desperate neediness in your veins to return to Sam and never leave his side. But it never did.

It increased tenfold when you reached outside. The cool air fell over your sweaty skin like stepping into a freezer. It should have woken up your senses. You didn’t “do” one night stands. You didn’t randomly go with strangers and have sex.

However, seeing Sam standing by his car made you want to jump his bones even more. He saw you approach and he smiled.

“You can change your mind if you want to,” he said.

“I don’t want to,” You said and smiled.

He told you to follow him. Your eyes cataloged everything about him. The way he moved, the way he talked. The way he stood there and radiated peace and calmness like walking melatonin.

You climbed into your car and followed Sam. He didn’t live far. He lived out in a bunch of townhomes, neat and tidy in their uniform rows. You supposed that to a military person, this would feel like home.

Sam parked first and you parked in front of his place. He got out of the car and so did you. You made your way to him. Nerves prevented you from speaking but there was a comfortable familiarity with him that didn’t require words from either of you.

He grabbed your hand and led you into his house. It was tastefully decorated and most importantly - clean. There were too many grown men comfortable with living in absolute filth and had the nerve to think women were just supposed to excuse it away.

Sam turned on a few lights, enough to see by. After locking the door and throwing his keys on the table beside it, he faced you.

He slowly approached, his eyes raking over your body. You felt it like a physical caress. His face showed nothing but appreciation and desire. He liked what he saw. And damn, did you like what you were seeing as well. He moved like a large cat, like a lion lazily stretching its muscles.

He stepped to you and then tilted your head up by your chin. He grinned and then closed his eyes, kissing you softly. Reverently. Like it was a long-lost reunion after decades apart. You felt like you would float away at any moment.

He deepened the kiss. He grabbed both sides of your face, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t get enough. Your hands finally grabbed his thick arms, rubbing his shoulders and hanging on. He moaned low in his throat, continuing to be content with just kissing you. Tasting you.

“Upstairs? I’m assuming?” You asked.

“Beauty first,” he said. He let you go so you could turn around and head towards the stairs. You passed by pictures of him growing up. Two parents and what looked like a sister. There were more pictures of the sister with kids. Pictures of Sam with his unit.

Sam placed his hands on your hips and escorted you to his room. He turned on a lamp and the light was a little harsh but still intimate. The walls were painted a deep, soothing blue. His sheets matched the walls and he had blinds on the window.

He wasn’t much for useless junk. Everything had its place and section. He’d have a fit if he saw your place. It was clean, but you definitely tended to cherish trinkets, gadgets, or souvenirs. Proof of life. Of love. Of friendships and relaxing trips.

You faced him with a smile. There was no rush here. Nothing to indicate that he was trying to pressure you in any way. You grinned wider and reached for your shirt, throwing it on the floor.

Sam’s eyes widened, taking in your peek-a-boo turquoise bra. He licked his lips. Feeling emboldened by his obvious desire, you stripped out of your shoes and jeans, kicking them off to the side.

“I show you mine…” you sang. You grinned and sidled up next to him, reaching for his shirt. He helped you pull it off of him. Fuck, he was gorgeous. He was all smooth skin and muscle. Stack on top of stack. He took his physical health seriously. Your hands rubbed all over every inch you could reach.

Sam’s heavy breathing filled the room as you touched him. You stared into his eyes and leaned down to place a kiss over one of his pecs. He grinned. “Like what you see?”

“You know damn well how fine you are,” you said.

“Don’t mean I don’t wanna hear it,” he said.

“You are so fucking hot,” you said. You might have drooled. Didn’t care.

Sam chuckled as he finally shed his own boots and jeans, revealing black briefs and an impressive bulge. You reached for it, ready to feel that too but he grabbed your wrists before you made contact. You pouted at him.

“I was raised to be a gentleman. So get your sexy, gorgeous ass on that bed and spread them pretty legs for me,” he said.

Shivers wrecked you. There was no breeze in the house to blame it on. No whir of the A/C to excuse it away. His words alone had you rubbing your thighs together and grinning.

You backed up into the bed, holding his gaze. He licked his lips while you sat down and then scooted onto the bed. He stalked closer so that he could maintain that shared look as you laid down and got comfortable on his plush mattress.

Sam tilted his head at you. You rolled your eyes and spread your legs like he asked you to. He made a pleased sound that you felt down to your toes.

He reached out and rubbed your thighs and legs, getting you used to his touch. He hooked his rough fingers around your matching panties and tugged them down. He whistled softly as he got a peek at your glistening center.

“So fucking gorgeous,” he said. He looked up at you. As he descended down with a kiss to your tummy, he asked, “Can I taste it?”

“Yes,” you breathed out. Your breathing turned choppy.

He placed kisses along your lower tummy, not touching your pussy at all. His hands remained locked around your thighs, holding them open. He started to move down, kissing along your thighs. He stopped when he reached your inner thigh.

“Can I play with it?”

“Fuck yes,” you moaned.

His fingers massaged your thighs, digging deep and finding knots you didn’t know existed. You moaned, unable to stop yourself from squirming under his methodical hands. His thumbs traced patterns as he massaged you, tracing small circles into your skin. He kept his hands moving, gripping and learning you. His thumbs caressed the inside juncture of your legs, where your thighs met your pelvis.

“Oue, shit,” you moaned.

Sam chuckled and brushed his goatee against your skin. His face was smooth earlier but there were the beginnings of prickly stubble that rubbed along your thighs. You were unused to this type of teasing. Where it felt like your skin would melt off if he didn’t do something soon.

He placed lazy kisses to your inner thighs, making each area tingle. You felt phantom kisses all over and you continued to squirm.

“Calm down, relax,” he said against your skin.

“How can I? You’re driving me insane,” you said.

“Insane? Good. I wanna drive you to total and complete madness,” he said.

Fuck.

He kept placing these kisses along your skin and your body twisted and bowed off of the bed the closer he approached your pussy. You were probably already leaving a nice little puddle on his covers already.

“Sam, please,” you sighed. His fingers felt heavenly but you wanted more. You wanted to feel him.

“I’m sensing some impatience,” he said.

“Hella impatience,” you said.

Sam chuckled. You thought he’d say something else. You thought you’d get a warning and brace for whatever it was that he did next. But when his tongue flattened against your pussy, you leaned off of the bed with a long moan.

Your hands flew to his head, clutching him to you. He waited with his tongue against your pussy as you panted, twisted, and turned on the bed. That small act felt like a lightning strike. Sam kept your legs open waiting for you to calm down.

You took quick, choppy breaths trying to calm yourself down. This was so fucking embarrassing. You should not be this overly excited when he hasn't even done anything yet.

You planted your ass on the bed and then Sam groaned, licking up run away arousal. “Fuck, you taste so good. So sweet,” he said.

Your laugh was breathy. “It’s uh, been a while,” you said.

“That’s okay. Me too,” he said.

“Is this where I find out something’s wrong with you to scare off women?” You asked.

Sam laughed, kissing your thigh and leaving a wet mark behind. “I can only say that I just haven’t found the right woman yet.”

You were going to say something else but then he started licking in earnest. As if you were his own personal ice cream cone. He moaned more, settling further onto the bed. Then he really dug in.

You scratched his scalp as he ate you out. You couldn’t stop gyrating and grinding your hips into his mouth. He moaned and sucked and licked until your legs were shaking and you were screaming out your orgasm. Screaming at the ceiling and any neighbors nearby.

“Oh fuck!” You shook and twitched. As you came down, you leaned up. But Sam gave you a wink and dived back down, licking you again and teasing your entrance with his tongue.

“Sam?” You asked, but ended on a moan. Your clit was sensitive and you twitched with every pass.

“I ain’t done yet,” he moaned into your pussy.

You made a garbled, panicked sound. The hell did he mean he wasn’t done? He continued to lick and suck, wet smacking noises bouncing off of the walls. Your moans mixed with his. Both of you totally dedicated to the giving and receiving of oral pleasure.

Your tummy tightened, contracted, pulling another orgasm out of you. “Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god,” you chanted, unable to control your body or thoughts. You were out of your mind with pleasure.

Your lungs burned since you couldn’t draw in enough air to properly breathe. You felt dizzy and disoriented. “Oh fuck,” you said.

Sam leaned back and smacked his lips. You barely managed to look down at him over your belly. His lower jaw was drowning in your juices. He gave you a wink and kissed your thigh. “Okay?” He asked.

You nodded, too far gone to speak.

“Good, I still ain’t done,” he panted. He took a deep breath and latched right back onto your clit.

“Shit!” You yelled, trying to scoot away from him. Those muscles were not just for show. He pinned your legs to the bed, opening you up further. He held you in place as he returned to devouring his meal, heedless to your desperate pleas and cries.

“Sam, Sam, Sam,” you said as you tapped on his head.

He lifted his head. “You okay?”

“T-too much,” you said.

“Aww, need a break?” He asked.

You nodded, tears swimming to your eyes. “I’m still hungry. Give me one more,” he said.

“What!” He returned to your pussy, licking all around your clit and making your eyes roll back in your head. You were unused to this much pleasure, this much bliss. Before long, another orgasm was steamrolling over you and robbing you of breath.

True to his word, he stopped and kissed up your thighs and rubbed his wet beard into your skin. He nibbled on your tummy. You felt all of this distantly, knowing he was doing it but what was one more sensation as you calmed down from your orgasm? Your nerves were on fire. Singed right down to the atom.

Sam rubbed your stomach. You closed your eyes and snuggled into the feeling. Of the tranquility you felt by his side.

“You are so mean,” you said.

Sam chuckled. He leaned over and started kissing your cheek and jaw. You faintly smelled yourself on him and it made you want to lick his face. His lips moved lower to whisper in your ear. “You should’ve warned me that you taste so damn good. I could spend all night in between your legs. Tasting that pretty pussy,” he said.

“Fuck. Sam,” you said. You turned your head to look into his pussy drunk eyes.

He grinned. He brought his hand up to caress your cheek. “You’re really gorgeous.”

“You’re gonna kill me,” you said.

He laughed. “I hope not. I feel like I’d miss you too much even though we just met,” he said.

You were completely limp as a noodle. You were relaxed and lethargic, incapable of doing anything more than concentrating on your breathing. However, you were a lady.

You got to your elbows and then reached for his briefs. You cupped him, running your hands over the material. Even though the color was black, there were obvious wet spots there. Sam groaned, rolling his eyes back.

He nudged his face against you, seeking your lips without opening his eyes. You obliged, kissing him and tasting yourself on his tongue. It was a heady thing.

You did the same thing he did to you. You kissed along the corners of his mouth, his jaw, his neck, and his beautiful chest. You moaned your appreciation for his body as you climbed down his body, grabbing his briefs and tugging them down.

His dick sprang free. Slightly curved and smooth, the tip leaked with precum. You licked your lips and settled onto the side of him so you could take him in your mouth.

“Fuck, me,” he groaned.

You worked his shaft into your mouth, coating it with your saliva. As you did, you bobbed your head up and down sucking him all the way to the back of your throat. His groans spurned you on to go faster, further, wanting to hand deliver the same pleasure he did for you.

His hips started to jerk the faster you sucked him down until he was pushing at your shoulders to get up. You wiped your mouth and looked at him quizzically.

“I want to cum while I’m inside you,” he said. He gave you a dark, feral look that made your pussy throb. How was it that he was so damn gorgeous and generous on top of it? It was like you found a unicorn. Or a man built for your pleasure.

You grinned. “I’m on the pill,” you said.

He closed his eyes briefly and took a few deep breaths. “Don’t tell me that,” he said.

You kissed his thick, powerful thighs and rubbed your cheek against his legs. The tiny hairs there tickled your face but you looked up at him. “I’m on the pill,” you said again.

He groaned and then got to his knees on the bed. He kissed you, his big beautiful lips slanting against yours. He was a nasty kisser. Tongues dueling against each other, lips smacking, moaning and groaning into each other’s mouths.

He pulled you onto your knees until he positioned you on your back. He fell over you and settled in between your legs, rubbing his large dick against your inner thigh. He humped you, grinding his dick against your clit.

“Please, please, please,” you chanted.

“Are you sure?” He asked.

“Hell yes, please Sam. Please, I need to feel you,” you said.

Sam grinned and went back to kissing you. He used one hand to guide himself inside you and you shared a loud groan. He was large. Stretching you to your limit.

“Fuck!” You yelled.

Sam kissed you and waited as you adjusted to his length. He slowly worked himself inside until he was able to glide more easily, aided by your essence. Once he was down to the hilt, he paused and looked into your eyes.

“Feel so fuckin’ good,” he said. He kissed you again, sweeter this time.

Slowly, he began moving. He groaned and sped up as if he couldn’t help himself. As if every slide inside of you was like climbing the staircase to heaven. Before long he was pounding inside of you, pounding you into the bed while still kissing you.

You would never get enough of kissing him. Your heart felt like it was ready to burst. He was so damn sweet and caring while being absolutely fucking nasty. You had never had sex like this. Sex that completely enveloped every inch of you and lit you on fire. Sex that made you feel seen and heard and like your pleasure came first.

He was driving your ass into the bed with the force of his thrusts. “Fuck, Sam! Fuck, Sam!” You gripped onto his forearms, nails digging into his skin.

“Hm, give me another one. Another one, beautiful,” he said.

As if your pussy responded to the command, you were squeezing him as you were cumming. You shouted, loudly, your body curling in on itself as the orgasm rolled through you and over you.

“Shit,” Sam whispered against your lips as he came. His hips were still moving to the pace he set, the momentum causing him to fuck his cum into you deeper and deeper. His dick pulsed inside, filling you completely.

“OH, fuck!” You shouted.

Sam dropped against you and you both caught your breath. He was deliciously sweaty, and all masculine energy as he laid on top of you. He leaned to one side to try and lessen his weight but you clutched his shoulders, hugging him.

“Stay, for a moment,” you said. He was the perfect size and weight to act as a weighted blanket. He laughed as he placed his weight back on top of you.

“You’re cute. And funny,” he said, nudging his goatee against your cheek.

“You’re cute and funny,” you echoed. Even after everything you shared, you were hungry for more. He seemed to have the same thought. He couldn’t stop rubbing against you. You welcomed it, not willing to leave him just yet.

He softened inside of you and then slowly pulled out. You were sad to miss the feel of him on top of you. He pecked your lips and disappeared into an adjacent bathroom. You heard the water running and then he was returning.

He placed a warm washcloth to your pussy and gently cleaned you up. He grinned as you made incoherent noises. He finished and returned the washcloth to the bathroom.

“Will you agree to stay ‘till the morning? I make a mean pancake,” he said.

“Mean, you say?” You asked. You stretched out like a fat cat, working out little kinks and tweaks from vigorous sex.

“Mean as hell. Probably got sent to jail a few times over it,” he said.

You laughed at his corny joke. He sat on the bed and waited for your answer. You smiled. “I suppose I have to see if you can back up this claim,” you said.

“Oh, I can definitely back it up,” he said.

“Oh, definitely. Someone is definitely cocky,” you said.

Sam chuckled as he helped you sit up so that he could pull the covers off of the bed. He grabbed another one from a closet in the hallway and then draped it over you. He climbed into the bed and snuggled up next to you on his side.

You talked, giggled, and kissed until the wee hours of the morning. You hated to admit it, but the pancakes were definitely mean and slamming.

Whew! Did you know I have a Sam series? Find more Sam here: The Secret Sam Wilson Files

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Sam Wilson Files #Sam Wilson x Black!reader #Sam Wilson x Black reader #x Black reader #Sam Wilson x Fem!reader #Sam Wilson x Fem reader #x Fem reader #Sam Wilson x reader #x reader #Sam Wilson x you #Sam Wilson #Sam Wilson fanfic #Sam Wilson fan fic #Sam Wilson fan fiction

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wheredostarsgowhenyoudie · 7 months

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Once upon a time when employees are being interviewed at SI:

Interviewer: So what is it like working for Iron Man?

Employee A: Oh! Easy question. I like that. It is an honor, you know. It's what I thought when I joined, and it still is now. But also, I did not expect that SI is a place where we are allowed to prioritize things like family. Like last time, I left my phone on silent at my desk cause I had to go to a meeting. My kid at home was having an emergency and I couldn't be reached. But apparently, Friday, Mr. Stark's AI, keeps track of phone vibrations so she made the report and someone came to notify me. I didn't even know there was a protocol for that. Turns out my daughter was having her period for the first time! And I'm a single father so I had no idea what to do and I was panicking. Next thing I know, an SI nurse came and apparently she was sent by Mr. Stark to walk me through how to help. Apparently, Fri also caught my panic rumblings and triggered 'YOU ARE NOT ALONE PROTOCOL' or something. (*laughing*) The next week, we received an official email introducing a new department called Human Care. They encourage everyone to reach out if we ever find ourselves out of our depths on non company emergency matters.

Interviewer: How long have you been working here?

Employee B: Eight years, two months, six days and counting.

Interviewer: What's the weirdest thing you've witnessed here?

Employee B: (blanks out)

Employee B (struggling to think): Ahm. Really? Just one? Er- That's a tough one. Maybe that one time they set up a room for everyone to try lifting Thor's hammer? Or wait, no, maybe that time there when flying roombas were everywhere following Mr. Stark and reminding him to eat? Or when a villain came via the vents but before he could come down, Hawkeye accidentally hit him with pepper spray? I don't know, man. Weird things happen a lot. We're used to it by now.

Interviewer: Do you feel safe working here?

Employee C: Yeah. The avengers live here. But to tell you the truth, I think Happy Hogan and his black tux team of agents scare all the potential bad guys away. I heard rumors that Black Widow personally trains them. Like, I know two of them. Jake, for instance. He's like a giant, and he is intimidating but I saw him crying one time and when I asked him why, he just said Mr. Hogan.

Interviewer: Which avenger have you met?

Employee D: Oh, I've met two of them. Captain America and Thor. It was odd but one time, they were in the cafeteria and carrying trays of food and I do not mean just one each. Nope. Like, a ton! Like they're feeding an army. But it makes sense. Can you imagine the workout? With bodies like theirs? And the battles they go to? Man, if I have to save the world from aliens, I'll probably need the same nutrition.

Interviewer: Which avenger is the kindest?

Employee E: Ahm...We all know they're all badass. But kindest, I think Spider-Man. Last Thursday, it was raining, and then Spidey suddenly came all wet and holding a box and I'm gonna quote him now. He said, "Friday, can you please ask Mr. Sam Wilson Falcon sir to come down? The shelter is close and I have a box of puppies and I really, really want to bring them up but Mr. Stark is gonna ban me from the lab again."

Interviewer: Aww. So what happened next? What did they do with the puppies?

Employee E (grinning): Falcon came down, alright. But he came with Iron Man who zoomed past everyone to drag Spidey to the penthouse. I am not sure what I heard but he was muttering about oven toasters and frozen spiderlings? In the end, aome employees volunteered to take care of them. But I believe two of them are at the avengers' floor. We saw Mr. Stark ranting about puppy paw paint marks on his armani.

Interviewer (gasps): Oh my. Was he mad?

Employee E (ends up laughing): Mad? Try grunting fondly? Peter really likes those puppies. Mr. Stark tried to act like he hates them but really, he adores everything about the kid, puppies included. He even had custom made collars with avengers logo made for them.

Interviewer: I'm sorry? The Winter Soldier was asking directions to where?

Employee F: The Lego Store.

Interviewer: How would you describe the workload? Do you still get work life balance?

Employee G: I guess it depends. I work in R&D and we're all nerds there. So like, we're typically busy but it's play for us. Some days, we're really cramped with work, mostly when deadlines are nearing or sometimes, we're just really in the zone, we do not want to stop. Peter activated 'NIGHT NIGHT PROTOCOL' for that. Had Fri lock us out of the lab and we had no choice but to go home or nap at the sleep wing. And would you believe? After the product launch, we got emails on mandatory vacation leaves with bonus to spend! Like, who does that? So yeah, it's cool working here.

And then, there was this:

Interviewer: How does it feel to be the heir of a multibillion dollar top green tech company?

Peter (stares quizzically, dumb-founded): Uhhh-....Look, sorry, I think I'm in the wrong room. I'm not- Maybe you got the wrong questionnaire? I'm just an intern-

Interviewer: Oh. Wait. Is it top secret then? Sorry, I was told of your identity as Mr. Stark's kid so I thought I could ask. But if you're not comfortable-

Peter: WHAT!?? Who said that? They're probably just joking.

Interviewer (chuckles nervously): Ms. Potts did actually.

Peter (freezes): Oh.

Suddenly the door opens and Tony walks in.

Tony: Hey kid, and Ms. Carrenland. How's the interview going? Thought I'd drop by for moral support, you know.

Peter (looks torn, but excuses himself to go to Tony): Uhm, Mr. Stark, can I talk to you for a second? Look, sir, ahm, I think there's been a misunderstanding. The interviewer asks me how it feels to be your heir. Like that's real. I don't-

Tony (has his brows rising to his hairline): Kid. Peter. Breathe.

Peter (groans and sighs embarrassingly): I just didn't want to lie! They mistook me for someone else. It was a misunderstanding!

Tony (smirking): It's really not.

Peter: What?

Tony: Kiddo, I was the one who gave Pep the approval to sign the questions. And really, you've been managing the R&D department and shadowing Pep at management for a year now. You never wondered why I make you do that?

Peter: Oh.

Tony: Yup. Genius child here.

Peter: I just wanted to help. You seem stressed out with the Avengers' work and dealing with the government. I thought I could lend a hand. I didn't- I don't expect you to- I'm not worth that, Mr. Stark.

Tony (scoffs): I beg to differ. Look, I'll be honest with you. Even if you aren't interested in the company, it's still gonna be yours. Look around you, kid. Do you think I let just anyone go around with a free pass at my tower? You have a room at my home. This place is your home, as where as everywhere else that I own. Plus, it's another motivation for you to take care of yourself when you go out as Spidey. Imagine all our employees. They need you, kiddo.

Peter (mumbling softly): I'm just Peter Parker.

Tony (smiles and pats his shoulder): And that is why I chose you.

#irondad #irondad & spiderson #ironfam #spiderson #spider-man #iron man #avengers #mcu #tony stark #peter parker & tony stark #peter parker tom holland #peter parker #stark industries #incorrect marvel #incorrect avengers #incorrect irondad and spiderson #fun fics

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cupcraft · 23 days

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Okay but what really guts me about S6E21 the therapy episode is the moment where I think House really feels like Dr. Nolan's not hearing him or getting him which contributes to his feelings of distrust to um gtfo of therapy 5ever. Which this is not to say House should've done that or that Dr. Nolan is bad, it's more like this contributed quite a lot because well I'm making 0 sense let me explain.

So, I'm thinking about the scene where Dr. Nolan was like "what do you think Cuddy & Wilson talked about together. Walk me through the conversation?" House does and he basically concludes to his therapist that his interpretation of his friends is that they view him as the "House Problem" that they're more worried he's going to do something "bad" or "attention seeking" or "[insert anti-addict recovery rhetoric/ablelism/etc thing] here" because of Wilson kicking House out, out of the blue. And in a way, this is truthful and from an audience's perspective it is a believable interpretation. House is generally pretty perceptive about the people around him and their impression of him given that he does purposefully construct a certain impression of himself (so that he is not harmed by people by allowing himself to be genuine). And even though Cuddy and Wilson are the people he's the most genuine to, he still self-destructs around them and struggles with trust. Anyway, based on how Wilson and Cuddy have handled a lot of things in the past (not everything) such as the Morphine/saline thing, the first time he went cold-turkey on opiates, the tritter situation, forcing him to go to his abusive father's funeral, etc. it really does seem believable they'd view him as the House Problem, or in a way it makes sense House thinks that way overall.

Though this is not to say House is right. He is right and valid to think that they'd be worry he'd relapse/etc. and he is right to have trauma from previous horrible responses done to him and thus not have faith in any different. But House is in fact wrong because Cuddy and Wilson do genuinely care about him and do not actually see him at this current stage in the show as the "House Problem". Especially Wilson, which it was clear Wilson later realized his actions were impulsiveness and fucked up and not at all recovery informed (especially as the person of stability he agreed to be for House's recovery) since House felt forced to go back home. There's also the issue that Wilson created a home for him and House (as reiterated by Dr. Nolan and the fact the thing Wilson chose for himself was the organ, solidifying House's permanency in that home) only for him to be like jk i dont see a future for you here even though Sam who hates you doesnt mind. House doesn't realize that a Cuddy/Wilson conversation would be done out of care and guilt of an impulsive mistake and not because they just keep him around to stop him from being a "Problem".

SO, Dr. Nolan does challenge this rightfully so but he doesn't do it in the right way which contributes to House feeling unheard and stuck and realizing god I am miserable and i distrust this. Dr. Nolan challenges it by imagining the conversation in a way we the audience knows would not be how at the very least Wilson would talk. He posits Wilson as a very rational person to the point it is comical because Wilson is also toxic and irrational (again the very thing that Nolan says it was a home for you both and then he kicked House out!). I think even House recognizes this because he looks as though Nolan grew a second head like what on earth Wilson would never say that which I think really in the end makes House feel unheard. Because the message "Hey Wilson and Cuddy do in fact love and care about you" didn't come across. The "I think wilson is being rational" is what actually comes across, when House feels hurt by Wilson over what is an irrational reaction (especially given Wilson's apology to house goes poorly and comes off as more guilt than accountability, see the apartment scene).

So it guts me. it guts me that their communication got crossed and the outcome didn't work out. That House felt unheard and that Nolan wasn't able to reach him. Because it does bode poorly for House to leave therapy right now as he is at a point of crisis in his support network and he's returned home to the place that is triggering to him for a lot of reasons (hallucination/relapse/etc).

and as always for my ramblings feel free to add on/send asks/etc. :)

#house md #meta #just polite discussions ofc

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stxrvel · 3 months

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something #2

hi guys! i think im enjoying writing short stuff better, bc i tend to get stuck with the longer ones. still gonna see how that will turn out. do you guys have anything in mind you want to read? i cant seem to find the inspiration to continue the projects i already have. i'll read you!! hope u like this! see u next time. love u <3

warnings: hateful acts, all against all, people (avengers) taking sides, mean reader

Sometimes, when Y/N went to the Tower, the atmosphere was not as uncomfortable as she imagined. She could even say that she didn't have such a bad time, but it still wasn't one of her favorite places. It was times like those that she could remember why she preferred the solitude of the Complex to the uptight fraternity of the Tower.

“Ah, that mission really was a disaster,” Sam Wilson was telling some story in the middle of the kitchen island, most of the group gathered around him, a huge scowl on his face, barely noticing a fidgeting Steve Rogers. Y/N occasionally returned to the conversation, too much on her mind at the moment.

“I don't think I've ever seen Fury so angry,” Tony Stark spoke next to her, sipping his coffee stretched out on the uncomfortable kitchen chairs.

“We spent about… what, two weeks in penance?” Natasha Romanoff shook her head, a grimace on her face as she remembered Fury's reprimand and the days following that terrible mission, as she approached Y/N with a green drink in her clear acrylic cup.

“And Fury's penances are to be feared. I don't think it ever occurred to me to be that reckless again,” Sam looked back at Y/N, reminding her with a glance that the topic of conversation had turned thanks to her, when she came into the kitchen along with Natasha and they decided the best topic of conversation was last week's disastrous mission. Sam may have wanted to be benevolent and show understanding, but she really couldn't care less.

“I wasn't reckless,” Y/N lifted her shoulders, absently sipping from the glass Natasha had reached for, sitting next to her with an amused expression.

“I second that,” the redhead waved her glass in Y/N's direction, earning a sidelong glance from Steve on the other side from the kitchen doorway.

“You weren't because it was avoided,” Sam mimicked her gesture, leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms folded across his chest, his drink forgotten on the kitchen island.

“If it wasn't reckless what they decided to do, why in the same way do we have a veto?”

Sam didn't answer her, just as she expected, and barely smiled at Natasha as she clinked her glass against hers in a silent toast. The atmosphere in the kitchen had become somewhat tense, and for the first time she was pleased that Tony hadn't intruded on the conversation. Perhaps he was more in agreement with her than he would want to accept.

“If you're done,” Steve finally spoke up, standing in the doorway with tense shoulders, sending a hard glare at the redhead and Y/N, “Sam and I have to go.”

Wilson exhaled gruffly, grabbing his mug rinsing it in the dishwasher before following in the Captain's quick footsteps, not before sending a glare at the rest of those present in the kitchen.

“You don't know when to be quiet,” Tony spoke after a few seconds, as the sound of the elevator doors closing reached their ears. “That's why I like you so much.”

“It was obvious Wilson would side with Barnes, but I didn't think he'd be so openly against you,” Natasha moved to occupy the space next to Tony at the counter, right where Falcon had been a few minutes earlier. Natasha looked disgruntled, genuinely interested to know what was going on with Wilson, but Tony next to her was the manifestation of quite the opposite, with the corner of his lips cocked to one side and a bored gesture.

“Sam thinks it's my fault. He finds it impossible to believe that two people as righteous as Rogers and Barnes could do something so wrong,” Y/N replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Besides it hasn't been the same between us since what happened that time,” Tony tilted his head, blinking rapidly as if trying to rush the memories out. “They still hate us.”

“They hate me,” Y/N corrected him, earning an incredulous look from both of them instantly. Natasha frowned.

“You didn't do anything wrong, and they demonize us for being on your side. But some other people on this team have done worse,” the redhead tossed the comment into the air, and it seemed that the memories came very easily to each of them.

“Whatever it is, I couldn't care less,” Y/N stood up, taking the now empty glass and rinsing it in the dishwasher.

Natasha knew she was about to leave, so she broke away from the counter and changed the topic of conversation.

“Do you want us to make change?”

Y/N looked at the redhead with a bored expression. There was the possibility of requesting a change of mission with any team member once a month, and since it was just the beginning of November the shifts had been restarted. Last month Y/N had requested a change with Natasha because she was sure she couldn't spend too much time around her partner without wanting to hang him with her bare hands. She hadn't had any more missions with him up to that point and had the opportunity in front of her to avoid it, but this time she didn't want to take that option. She had a feeling something worse was coming.

“No, I'll be fine.”

“Do you think you can spend more than twenty-four hours with Scott?”

“He's stupid, irritating and annoying, but you guys know there are worse things in this life.”

“Worse things like the unmentionable?”

It was impossible to miss the look Natasha automatically shot Tony, which Y/N was sure if she had been standing next to him she would've elbowed the air out of him.

“Yeah, Tony, you're a genius,” Y/N rolled her eyes, grabbing her cell phone next to Natasha and moving to leave the kitchen.

But just when she thought she could have an enjoyable and uneventful day at the Tower, without this kind of incident, Barnes appeared just inside the entrance and it was instantaneous change in the mood. She even noticed Natasha and Tony stirring in their positions as if they were finding it hard to breathe amidst all the tension.

“Ah, you again.”

Y/N wasn't going to be the one to move to let Barnes in and judging by the look on his face it seemed he wasn't either. That was the way it was every time.

“You were also the last person I expected to see, actually.”

She'd seen that attempt at a carefree expression on Barnes' face a hundred times, but it didn't go unnoticed the way he tried to hide his quickened breathing or the indiscreet way he moved his eyes all over her face. His heavy, deep breathing almost convinced her of his disinterest, but she noticed the small changes and movements in his chest. It was impossible that after so long he could hide anything from her. Maybe that was why he was trying to convince himself that he hated her, because try as he might he couldn't figure her out after all that had happened like she could him.

But that was irrelevant. Barnes had long since ceased to be anyone in her life.

“Move,” was what she said, even though a couple of other things went through her head just to annoy him.

“You move,” he retorted, adopting a more relaxed posture.

Her blood boiled, almost certain that the veins in her forehead could be seen at that distance from how hard she was trying to hold back because just the sight of him was enough to upset all the chemistry in her body that deeply detested him.

With her dark gaze that she was sure could cut into his skin if it were physically possible, Y/N raised one of her hands to rest it on one of Barnes' shoulders, catching him completely off guard because he was surely expecting a hateful response that would incite an argument, as it did sometimes happen.

But Y/N wasn't in the mood for that, as many times. The times she took the time to argue with Barnes was when she had too much anger inside that she felt she had to take it out on something or she was going to implode.

So Barnes let his guard down completely, his bored expression changing to complete stupefaction and surprise, looking at her face and then her hand on his left shoulder. He looked like he wanted to say something, but the words were stuck in his throat.

Y/N understood at that moment the expression “like a fish out of water”.

It was at that moment of greatest cluelessness that Y/N used her hand to push the man who was almost twice her height. Barnes moved as if he were a leaf in the middle of a gale, a little use of her strength was enough to send the distracted man to the ground.

With the noise muffled by his clothes, Y/N walked past him as if nothing extraordinary had happened, with the restrained laughter of her companions behind her and Barnes' gaze following her until the elevator doors closed.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky x you #bucky fluff #bucky x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x y/n #winter soldier #the winter soldier #bucky barnes x you

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brw · 1 year

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ranking random marvel men by how helpful i think they are in domestic settings

tony stark – 0/10 cannot cook cannot clean if you tell me otherwise ill bite you he has never cleaned a day in his life and that's okay.

simon williams – 0/10 has also never cleaned a day in his life and sure as hell won't start now.

thor odinson – 0/10 like he thinks he's being super helpful but he keeps accidentally breaking things and smashing plates and making a mess in the kitchen but he acts real cute about it so nobody gets mad at him really.

bruce banner – 1/10 he does his best but disaster follows him wherever he goes. he can't help it. everything that can go wrong will go wrong. he tries to make a nice meal and the fridge breaks so nothing is cold and the oven destroys the meat and the vegetables all get overboiled and he drops the wine bottle and it smashes on the carpet and and and it's just a bad time. he's doing his best.

roberto da costa – 1/10 you didn't marry him for his domestic skills.

bucky barnes – 2/10 keeps putting knives in random ass places n doesn't tell you.

logan howlett – 3/10 look he's a good cook and remembers to stock the fridge but he tracks blood in like at least once a week and it takes forever to remove from the carpet.

remy lebeau – 4/10 points deducted for not washing himself

bishop – 5/10 he grew up in a dystopia with on rations and it shows. the only thing you're eating with him is rehydrated beef or some shit. keeps the cleanest sparsest environment you've ever seen though

hank pym – 6/10 generally good at cooking, cleaning, buying shit etc but uhhh succumbs to the Horrors bimonthly

pietro maximoff – 7/10 will clean everything that gets messy, he likes a clean environment, but hates buying food vocally and gets kitchen rage when making food, his food is very good though

reed richards – 7/10 has made various machines to do washing, cleaning, cooking, laundry etc but cannot be trusted in a supermarket unattended, struggles to cook generally but can be trusted to make a few really good meals

luke cage – 8/10 i don't think he can cook for shit but he is great for remembering shopping and keeping things clean and tidy and we know he's a great dad so .

scott summers – 8/10 cleans everything, has a photographic memory of what's in the fridge and seems to telepathically know when something is broken or needs replacing but the only thing he serves is soup.

sam wilson – 10/10 good at cooking, remembers groceries, loves hosting people, keeps getting nice expensive wines to enjoy over the weekend as a nice treat from all the captain america shenanigans

steve rogers – 10/10 likes to clean likes to cook enjoys just relaxing and doing chores when not captain america-ing, will absolutely pick up stuff for dinner back from a fight with hydra or whatever

#brieuc.txt #making random lists like this for profit #tony stark #simon williams #thor odinson #bruce banner #roberto da costa #bucky barnes #logan howlett #remy lebeau #bishop #hank pym #pietro maximoff #ch: i believe we endure #luke cage #scott summers #sam wilson #steve rogers #i strongly believe sam n steve are the perfect husbands and i wont be swayed

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holylulusworld · 1 year

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Cat-napped

Summary: A cat cat-naps your rat.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Characters: Sam Wilson, Alpine the cat

Warnings: language, rat-napping, rat-hate, fun, reader loves rats, Bucky loves his cat, a hint of fluff, awful word play, I mention cancer (no description)

“Stop the cat! Stop the cat! Stop the cat they go my rat!!!” you scream at the top of your lungs while chasing a white cat along the hallways of your apartment complex. “Help! That monster got my rat!”

“What? Where?” you almost crash into two guys. One of them steadies you as the other looks at you as if you lost your mind. “What’s wrong, sugar?” the friendlier of the pair asks. “I’m Sam.” He says as you already try to sidestep them to get back to chasing the cat.

“I-that cat got my rat! The monster will kill Chestnut!” sniffling you try to make the men understand that you need to save your rat. “The cat cat-napped my rat! Please help me!”

“Alpine would never do such a thing,” the other man finally speaks. “Why would he kidnap a dirty rodent?”

“You must excuse my friend,” Sam tries to calm you. “Bucky is very fond of his cat.” He grins as he guides you toward the cat. Alpine still is holding your rat by its neck, while looking up at its owner with big eyes. “Alpine, let the rat go.”

Bucky steps toward the cat. “Alpine didn’t cat-nap the rat. If he took the rat, and I’m not saying he did, he would’ve rat-napped the rat,” Bucky grunts as you are close to losing your mind. “Alpine, let the dirty thing go.”

“My rat ain’t dirty! Chestnut is clean and a good rat,” you growl as Bucky crouches down to pat his cat’s head.

“Alpine, let the rat go,” he softly says and the cat immediately lowers its head to carefully put the rat down. Alpine licks over Chestnut’s head, purring before stepping away.

“Chestnut,” you crouch down and hold out your right hand for your rat. The little rat looks up at Alpine, sniffing at its leg before turning around to run toward you. Chestnut stands on two legs to sniff at your hand. “Good girl.” You sniffle as your rat jumps onto your hand and climbs up your arm to get comfortable on your shoulder.

Bucky carefully picks Alpine up. He stares at Chestnut on your shoulder, shuddering as the rodent snuggles into your shirt. “Uh-she has a rat on her shoulder, Sam.”

“I can see that man,” Sam steps toward you to get a closer look at Chestnut. “Aw, he’s a cuddly little rat.”

“She,” you correct. “And yes, she’s a good rat. Chestnut is cuddly and she loves to groom me.” You fall into an easy conversation with Sam. He laughs as you tell him about your rat and that you saved her from the animal shelter.

“Sam, we should be on our way,” eying you and your rat Bucky tries to get Sam to follow him. “I’ll bring Alpine back to my apartment.”

“Yeah, be right there,” Sam grumbles. “Another time,” he says. “I’d like to get to know more about rats. I never thought they that can be so…” Sam carefully runs his index finger over Chestnut’s back. “Cute and cuddly.”

“Any time,” you smile widely as Sam seems to be interested in rats too.

It’s not easy to find people liking rats. They got a bad reputation due to the millions of rats running around town.

Of course, they got nothing to do with your domestic rat. People just don’t want to see rats can be the best pet ever…if you just give them a chance…

“No! Not again!” you cry while chasing Alpine up the fire escape staircase of your building. The cat once again, cat-napped your rat. He’s carrying her upstairs and disappears inside one of the windows. “Get her back!”

You knock against the window, calling for help. “I’ll get her back, monster.” Turning around to climb back down you huff. You can only hope the cat didn’t kill your rat.

“BARNES!” you harshly knock at your neighbor’s door. “Your cat cat-napped my rat again. Open the door! I’ll call the police. You’re hiding a rat-napper in your apartment!!!”

“Doll, what the—?” Bucky opens the door. He sleepily looks at you. He huffs and grumbles as you shove him aside to make your way inside his apartment. “Whoa, what are you doing?”

You turn around to look at the man defending his rat-napping cat. “Your cat kidnapped my rat again! This is—I dare that beast to hurt Chestnut!”

Bucky scratches his scruffy chin. He just woke up and is still in his pajama pants and a white wifebeater. His feet are bare, and he’s got his hair in a messy bun.

“Alpine?” Bucky walks toward the living room to look for his cat. “Punk where are—uh…fuck,” he huffs as Alpine lies on the couch, your rat on top of him. Chestnut is busy grooming his cat as the super-soldier stares at the scene with wide eyes.

“See! He kidnapped my rat again,” you mutter while pointing at Alpine and your rat. “He can’t just break into my apartment and cat-nap my rat! That’s against the law.”

“How’d my cat get inside your apartment?” Bucky dips his head to look at you standing next to him. “Doll?”

“UH-he sneaked into my open window. You should make sure that your cat won’t leave your apartment,” you purse your lips as Bucky just laughs it off. “I mean it, Sir!”

“Doll, my cat did not kidnap your rat. I bet that little rat enchanted my cat and lured him in,” your neighbor concludes.

“You’re a liar! Your cat cat-napped my rat!” you grunt. “I don’t want my Chestnut to get hurt.”

“If you don’t want my cat to sneak into your apartment, you shouldn’t leave your window open. You should never leave it open. Unattended. It’s dangerous for a woman. It is a dangerous world.”

“I’m a big girl and can take care of myself,” Bucky huffs as you walk toward his couch. Alpine hisses as you try to pick your rat up. “Leave me alone, cat. That’s my rat. Come here, Chestnut.”

You hold out your hand for your rat. Chestnut lifts its head and sniffs at your hand. Your rat looks up at you for a moment but turns their attention back toward Alpine to groom the cat.

“Can your rat stop grooming my cat? Maybe it got parasites or something,” he mutters as you try to convince your rat to come home with you. “See, it’s the rat manipulating my cat!” Bucky wildly gestures toward Chestnut on top of his cat. “She’s a cat enchanter.”

“Cat what?” you stare at Bucky in disbelief. “It wasn’t my rat kidnapping your cat. It was the other way around.”

“Lady, my cat is not a criminal mastermind,” he just won’t admit that his cat is a dangerous kidnapper.

“Chestnut, let’s go,” while your rat is having a blast grooming the cat, you sigh deeply. “I know you are missing your partner. I promise to find a new friend for you. Just not the cat.”

“Wait, she lost her friend,” Bucky furrows his brows as you sit on his sofa next to his cat. “What happened?”

“He got cancer and,” you sniffle, “there was no hope. He was so sick and in pain. I had to let the vet put Romeo down.”

“Romeo, huh?” Bucky’s voice softens as he watches you wipe a tear off your cheek. “A cute name. How long since your little rat is without her partner?”

“A few weeks. I’m trying to find a new friend for her,” he nods as you tell Bucky so far Chestnut didn’t like any of the rats you introduced to her.

“She’s a picky lady, huh,” Bucky grins at you. “How about she can come over to groom Alpine until you found a new rat? They seem to get along pretty well.”

“I thought you don’t like rats.”

“Alpine likes that furry beast so, I’ll make an acceptation for Chestnut,” he gives you a soft smile. “How about breakfast? I wanted to make eggs and toast. I think your little rat is busy snuggling with my cat for a little longer.”

“I got croissants and French Toast,” you offer. “Give me a minute and I’ll be right back.”

“Let me help you carry the food,” Bucky offers. “I can’t let you carry all the food. Alpine likes to carry Chestnut around too…”

“As long as you don’t want to carry me around all time,” you grin, “we are golden…”

Bucky nods. He looks you up and down, furrowing his brows. “We will see. Maybe after we got to know each other better…”

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #Cat-napped #bucky and alpine #alpine barnes

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avengerscompound · 9 months

Text

The Recruit - 33. Wanda

The Recruit - An Avengers Fanfiction

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Clint Barton x Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Sam Wilson x F!Reader

Word Count: 2229

Warnings: Canon typical violence

Synopsis: When Sam Wilson is set up on a blind date, he doesn’t expect anything to come from it. He is already in a relationship after all, and not just with one other person, but a whole group of them. You never expected to end up working for the Avengers let alone be dating six of them at the same time. Now you’re balancing a new job, a new romance, new friends, and a secret that could destroy a lot of lives if it got out. It’s a tricky balance to get right at the best of times, but when something happens to Steve Rogers it’s up to the people who love him most to get him back.

33. Wanda

Wanda sat in the back of the jet with the trainees completely on edge. Chaos magic was crackling just under her skin, making her feel like an exposed wire. She had known there was something wrong with Steve since they’d come back from the mission. Everyone did, but his thought patterns had been altered. Almost like there was something in him changing who he was. Everyone was calling it PTSD and said he was working on it, so she just let herself believe that was all it was, because what else could it be?

She felt guilty now because whatever was going on with Steve was much bigger than simply PTSD and she’d allowed people to dismiss her when she’d tried to warn them. Now she was on the way to try to find him with Clint and a bunch of unseasoned rookies and the recruit that had initiated this off-book rescue mission was the one in a relationship with six of her teammates, including Clint.

She felt awkward and antsy and ready to fight.

There was movement at the front of the jet and you stepped out. She could feel the nervousness radiating off you like you were sending sparks out at the group.

All the trainees looked over at you like you had two heads. Wanda supposed that made sense, here you were getting special access to Avengers things. They had to have all kinds of theories as to what was going on.

“What’s going on?” Zuri asked.

You took a seat and let out a breath, looking over at Wanda. All she could think to do was nod, she hoped it was reassuring. This had nothing to do with her, but she wanted to make sure you didn’t feel alone.

“So when we find Steve, things are going to get kind of emotional,” she said. “There’s - things - that people haven’t wanted to become public, and I don’t want you all the be blindsided. I’ve been lying to you.”

“You are a spy!” Qadira yelped.

“No she’s not,” Zuri said. “She’s dating Steve Rogers.”

Wanda had to keep her face set, but she nearly started laughing. Zuri was so close to the real answer, but she’d just missed it.

“It explains so much,” Zuri continued. “Why she couldn’t tell us. Why he lost his shit on the last mission.”

“No way,” Jackie said. “Cap is dating Agent Carter. I’m sure of it.”

You clicked your tongue. “Do you want the actual answers?” you asked.

“Right,” Zuri said. “Continue.”

“Well, you were both right,” you said. “And not quite right. I told you I was seeing a few people. Well, I’ve joined a polycule. That group contains, Steve, Agent Carter, Clint -” you gestured over your shoulder with your thumb - “Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff, and James Barnes.”

“What. The. Fuck?” Anderson hissed. “Are you serious?”

“Yes. I can’t go into any details. I signed an NDA when I first even agreed to this. But I hope you can understand why I was lying to you, and why this has to stay a secret. I hate that it’s a secret. I have wanted to talk to you all about it for a long time. And in case you were wondering, my recruitment and the dating were two separate things. Tony Stark recruited me just the way I said, not knowing that I’d been on a date with Sam Wilson and that the same night Sam had asked if I wanted to join their polycule. The only thing they have in common is that the reason I was out the front of the building to be able to save Tony’s life was that I’d just been upstairs having dinner with Sam as he explained to me his unique relationship.”

“No one thinks you’re here because of nepotism,” Jackie assured you.

“Yeah,” Qadira added. “You’re one of the best of us.”

The smile on your face was a mixture of genuine flattery and relief. Wanda could feel how happy it made you that your friends had your back like this. She was proud of them too. It just went to show how good the recruitment process was. Not only did they have a group of people who were tops in their fields, but they were good people. The perfect people to have on call to help protect the world.

“Thank you,” you said. “Well, I mostly just wanted you to know because, for Clint and me, and any of the others who manage to get to him in time, it’s not about trying to stop Captain America. It’s trying to appeal to a man we love who’s got something really wrong with him. It might get emotional.”

“Don’t worry,” Jordan said. “We’ve got your back. And no one’s gonna spill to the press after all the dust settles.”

You returned to the front of the plane and the other trainees started whispering with each other. It was mostly shocked murmurings. No one was saying anything negative or worrying, so Wanda just let them be. It was big news - she still sometimes talked to the other Avengers about the group.

About forty minutes into the flight Tony and Rhodey caught up to them, and they stayed in formation with the jet. It was a little over an hour when Clint started to bring the jet down closer to ground level. He was skimming the treetops along an old state highway when there was a screeching sound on the left side of the plane and an explosion that rocked the whole cabin.

“What was that?” Wanda yelled.

“He threw his shield at us!” Clint called back. “Brace yourselves, we’re going down.”

“Jackie,” Wanda said as she stood. “Help me steady the plane.”

Wanda flicked her wrists and the pink cloud of chaos magic spread out from her hands and surrounded the plane. Jackie began to chant and a deep purple cloud joined Wanda’s pink and the two witches began to help bring the jet down safely.

It was still a bumpy landing, and the jet skidded into the forest, felling trees and sending wildlife scattering.

“Is everyone alright back there?” Clint called.

“Yeah,” Jordan replied. “Let us out before we lose him!”

The back of the jet opened and the whole group got up, grabbing weapons and hurrying down the ramp. “Distract, do not engage,” Clint called to the group as they ran. None of you are bulletproof, and he’s not going to miss if he throws that shield at you. Communicate through Wanda. Focus. We can’t have any of you getting overwhelmed.”

When Wanda reached Steve, he was locked in battle with Tony and Rhodey, throwing his shield at Rhodey as he rolled out of the way of a blast sent at him from Tony. He looked wrong. He was wearing his uniform, but it seemed to be covered in thick, black tar. It clung to it and changed it, making it smoother in some places and sharper in others. Threaded through the black was a webbing of green. It looked almost like veins, but at this chest, overlaying the star, it formed the H.Y.D.R.A. skull and tentacles.

That was not as disturbing as Steve’s eyes. They were pitch black. Not just the irises, but all of it. It was like someone had colored them in with a Sharpie. Wanda had been right all along; there was something in him.

The sounds of jets filled the air and Sam and Vision came flying in, landing amongst the group of trainees. Steve called his shield back. It flew through the air and he caught it, clicking it back in place on his arm as he surveyed the group with cold, dark eyes.

“Hey, Steve,” Sam said. “How about you put the shield down.”

“Steve doesn’t exist anymore,” Steve replied. “There is only H.Y.D.R.A.”

Some of the others ran in surrounding Steve where he stood in the middle of the road. No one made a move, Wanda looked ever at Jackie. ‘There’s something in him,’ she sent. ‘We need to get it out.’

“Steve,” you said. “That’s not who you are.”

“I don’t answer to that anymore,” he spat. “I suggest you all back-off.”

“Come on, Steve,” Bucky said, walking in through the group. “You can shake this off, pal.”

Steve pulled a knife out of his belt and threw it, it landed just shy of Bucky’s feet, stopping him where he stood. As soon as Steve let the blade go, Clint loosed an arrow at him. Steve snatched it out of the air and whipped it back at Clint and it embedded into his thigh.

“Those two are free,” Steve snarled. “The next will be deadly. Let us go.”

“Steve,” Sharon said. “You’re just going to let this happen? You’re just going to let this thing kill everyone you love?”

He flinched and snarled again, baring his teeth. “There is no Steve!”

Wanda and Jackie began to use their magic trying to pry whatever this was out of Steve. It was thick and dark and it felt like it burned back through her as she touched on it. Steve was in there, she could feel him, scared and trapped, but whatever this was felt like it was fused to his very cells.

Steve spun around, focusing on Wanda and he threw the shield at her. Tony blasted it out of the air and it went flying in the opposite direction. The heat of the blast made the thing that was clinging to Steve flinch and for just a moment, Steve took control.

“Please,” he begged in a quiet voice. “I’m trying to hold it back. Run. Leave me.”

And then he was gone again.

“It’s scared of fire!” Jackie called.

“Keep encouraging him,” Wanda added. “He’s in there. He can help us fight it.”

“You’re better than this, Steve,” you said. “Please fight it. You don’t want him to kill us.”

“You don’t even know what you're talking about, little girl,” Steve snarled.

Clint loosed three flaming arrows at once and they landed on three sides of him. He darted back and Clint did it again, and again, while Tony, Vision, and Rhodey took off and set the ground around him on fire, until he was circled in flame. The thing let out an ear-splitting screech and rippled on its suit. Steve seemed to grab hold of it and started tearing it away from him, but it seemed useless, like tearing liquid, as he pulled it away it just spread out and clung to him again.

“Double down, Jackie,” Wanda called.

The two women began to work together, grabbing the black gunk and pulling it toward the fire.

“Come on Captain,” Collins called out. “You’re one of my biggest idols. Don’t let H.Y.D.R.A. beat you now.”

“Yeah, Cap,” Zuri yelled. “That would be really embarrassing.”

The other recruits all start yelling out their encouragement, telling him what they meant to him and how they believed in him. It seemed to be working but not enough.

“Come on, Cap,” Tony called out. “Who’s going to make me look good if you’re not around?”

“You once said to me that the only thing that mattered was who I was on the inside. That’s what matters now, Cap. Who you are. You would never let H.Y.D.R.A win,” Bruce called out.

“Yes!” Wanda called as she pulled more of the black goo from him. “Get personal.”

Sharon moved in closer to the flames. “Steve, honey,” she said. “Come on neighbor. We have a laundry date, remember?”

Natasha jogged up beside her. “Yeah, Steve. You’re my favorite fossil, and I have a lot more dates to set up for you.”

Steve cried out and threw some of the goop into the flame, it screamed and caught fire, turning to ash almost at once.

Sam moved in. “On your left, Steve. You can do this. We can go home and I’ll make you breakfast.”

Clint jumped down from the tree. “Time to suit up, Steve.”

“‘Til the end of the line, Punk,” Bucky said, stepping up to the others and taking Sharon’s hand. They all linked hands and you moved in with them, taking both Sam and Natasha’s hand too.

“We all love you, Steve. Please come back to us,” you said.

He let out an almighty roar and pulled hard on the black goo. Wanda and Jackie grabbed hold of it and pulled with him and it let go. The two women surrounded it with their powers and dropped it down into the fire. It screamed as it burned but they held it down so it couldn’t escape.

When the last of it was burned away, Tony and Rhodey extinguished the flames, and Steve’s group of lovers ran in.

Steve collapsed onto the ground and curled into a ball, and Sam crouched down to hold him.

“You okay, baby?” Sharon asked.

He looked up, trembling. “That was fucking exhausting,” he whispered.

Everyone looked at Wanda and she scanned Steve. There was no more sign of the thing in him. It was just Steve. Tired and in pain. But all him. She nodded to them.

“Language, Steve,” Natasha teased.

He let out a soft laugh and nuzzled into Sam. “Can we please go home?”

// NEXT

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cashiew · 8 months

Text

Woke up to the news of the cancellation this morning and have spent the day trying to swallow it. I was so looking forward to seeing our girls again and have my fingers crossed that we can see another miracle.

But for now, I offer the gretson playlist I made last year. It follows the spiritual beats of their story, circling themes of flight, making a mark, and finding your way home.

Seven - Sleeping At Last So I look to the future, and I book another fight / When everything feels heavy, I’ve learned to travel light

More to Give - Isabel Pless I keep burning my own bridge whether I lose or win / I’ll always wish I had more to give

if i were a friend - BLU EYES If I wasn't in my head / I could help me settle down / Make all of this make sense / Cuz it doesn't right now

Why Am I Like This? - Orla Gartland Oh, it's like I'm looking down from the ceiling above / Never in the moment, never giving enough

One - Sleeping At Last The list goes on forever / Of all the ways I could be better, in my mind / As if I could earn God's favor given time / Or at least congratulations

Twenty Something - Bre Kennedy Had my first kiss at the corner bar / Fell in love with a stranger in the dark

Everything Has Changed - Alex G, Jon D 'Cause all I know is we said, "Hello" / And your eyes look like comin' home / All I know is a simple name / And everything has changed

Apple Pie - Lizzy McAlpine I found you under an April sky / And you feel like / City life, apple pie baked just right / Home is wherever you are tonight

Ordinary Love - Nick Wilson Just for once / I want ordinary, ordinary love / No smoking gun

Maybe - Duce Williams Maybe, we should hope against the odds / Maybe, fate will place our cause

if i built my home from paper - Lexie Carroll Cause I may be getting older / But maybe I'm still scared / It's a trouble living in this world / But it's home when you are there

Magnificent - Oh Wonder In the sticky summer heat, I got grass stains on me knees / And I'm infinite / Couple lovers running free, eyes are looking straight at me / And I'm into it

hate to be lame - Lizzy McAlpine, FINNEAS If I love him, if I need him / Maybe that will make him stay / If I lie, will I still feel this way?

counting houses - Luz Let them cast their doubt / We can live without /All their thoughts around

If I Didn’t Love You - Ben Abraham How do you do it? You've got me in it and I can't explain / How you turn me with the fury of a hurricane

Walk Above the City - The Paper Kites, MARO Flowers underneath us now / Towers underneath us now / We walk above the city / You and I

Tonight (I Wish I Was Your Boy) - The 1975 And told her, "Some things have their time / How can I be yours if you're not mine?"

Talking to Myself (Stripped) - Gatlin What if I play pretend / You're holding me again / We're laughing in my head

Another Round - Elina Time always froze when I pulled you close / And we were fine, mhmm / I swear I would give anything for another round

please - Chelsea Cutler, Jeremy Zucker Please don't leave me here / I don't know where my heart is

Leave Your Lover - Sam Smith You'll never know the endless nights, the rhyming of the rain /Or how it feels to fall behind and watch you call his name

Alone with You - Canyon City It's not anything you say, anywhere we go / It's just being alone with you now

I Found You - Kina Grannis, Imaginary Future A sudden gust of wind /From nowhere, we begin / It's like I dreamed you up while I was sleeping

Last Time - Adam Melchor I'm takin' a picture of this in the back of my mind / ‘Cause every time I go I'm scared it's gonna be the last time

Give & Take - John Marc Oh there's a give and take in falling in love / You make it easier than I ever thought

#spotify #playlist #a league of their own #aloto #gretson #carson shaw #greta gill

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 11 months

Note

Can you please do promot 10 and 12 with Sam wilson please?

.⋆｡The Cleansing Rain｡⋆.

Sam Wilson x plus size reader

The fight was bad, really bad but neither of you wanted to stop loving the other

Warnings: mentions of the snap, fighting, angst, implied ptsd

WC: 752

Minors DNI

3000 Follower Celebration

The fight had lasted for days and you both were exhausted. It had sparked over something insignificant that you couldn’t really give a shit about anymore and then blew up to the point where you and Sam were screaming in each other’s faces.

Sam felt you were pulling away from him, not as loving as you used to be. You returned back that he was dead for five years and you had to learn to live without him.

You thought Sam was being entitled to your affections when he did nothing for you in return. He snapped that he had a job to do, he and Bucky had to protect people who couldn’t protect themselves.

But everything broke down when you wondered if the relationship was even worth saving. It was obvious that you had changed immensely since the blip while your partner was left behind to pick up the pieces of what used to be his life while still trying to be a hero.

“If you aren’t happy here then just fucking leave!” You screamed at him but really you were begging him not to go.

“You know what I think I will because I can’t stand this shit anymore.” But he was pleading to stay.

“Go!” Tears burned behind your eyes but you refused to let them fall, refused to let him see how you were breaking all over again.

“Fine!” The front door slammed behind him, shaking the foundations of your home and your heart. You didn’t see the way his shoulders fell, he didn’t see how you crumbled.

He left without saying ‘I love you’. You let him go without saying ‘I love you’.

That was almost a week ago and you felt like you were dying. The house was too quiet, your bed too empty. Every time the old floorboards creaked, your head shot up, expecting to see Sam in the doorway, a bright smile on his face, his dark eyes sparkling. But he was never there.

You kept the TV on constantly, too scared of the silence. So that’s how you heard about the storm.

Sam hated storms, he always had. He’d always get scared when lightning struck and thunder rolled. The night he asked you to be his girlfriend was during a storm like the one about to hit Louisiana. He had burst into your home, eyes wide with fear and collapsed into your arms, his whole body trembling. You wrapped him up in the softest blanket you could find and distracted him with things from shitty puns to singing to him. And when the power finally gave out, he took you into his arms and asked you to be his.

As the skies darkened above the small ocean town, anxiety bubbled in your stomach. ‘Was Sam somewhere safe?’ ‘Who was looking out for him?’ ‘Did they know what to do if he had an attack?’

Before you could think, your shoes were on and you were out the door. There were only two places he would be- his sister’s or Bucky’s. The first drops of rain started to fall as you ran through the streets, gunning for Sarah’s house.

Your feet pounded against the pavement in time with the beating of your heart. The fog closed in around you as fat water droplets smacked you in the face, getting more intense by the second.

Yet still you ran.

“Y/N!” The voice was distant, muffled but it was still the voice you needed to hear the most.

“Sam!” His silhouette stood against the blur of the rain.

You collided together almost painfully but you didn’t care. His arms were around you again, you both were whole again. “Sam I’m sorry I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that you were being selfish.” He shook his head and squeezed your thick waist even tighter.

“I was being selfish. You were doing so much for me and I did nothing to help you.” You laughed sadly, your tears mixing with the rain.

“Maybe we were both being dumb.” He laughed that laugh you loved so much and your chest warmed even though your clothes were now thoroughly soaked through with frigid water.

“Maybe we were.” Your arms wrapped around his neck and brought his lips closer to yours.

“Come home.” You whispered just above the din of the storm.

“I’m already home.” And as he kissed you in the freezing rain, all the pain was washed away, even if it was just for a little while.

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thatmexisaurusrex · 10 months

Note

hey hun, from this list, can you do coming out? 💖

Wonderful choice, @livingincolorsagain! 😆 Enjoy the little fluff ficlet! 🥰

Coming Out

| 2 | Prompts |

Sam felt him.

Above Sam.

Bucky.

The weight of him. Comforting. A little too heavy, but Sam didn't want Bucky to move.

The sweat of him. Dripping from the heat of a Louisiana summer night despite three fans going at full blast in Sam's room.

Felt Bucky's arms. Wrapping around Sam. The way their legs tangled. The way Bucky's entire body needed to hold Sam as close as possible.

The way Bucky's chest moved with every slow breath Bucky took. The way Bucky nuzzled Sam's neck, the nice scratchiness of Bucky's scruff.

Sam held onto Bucky too. Felt every light stretch Bucky did on Bucky's back.

Sam stared up at his ceiling, his sight partially veiled by stray Bucky hair.

And Sam knew he had to say something.

"Bucky," said Sam, nervously.

Because. He hadn't told anyone this really. Ever. Well. Besides Riley. But this felt important to say.

Sam felt the rumble of Bucky's relaxed yawn. Saw Bucky's hair move as Bucky turned that intense, soft gaze at Sam.

All the attention in the world.

It was immense.

It was addictive.

"What is it?" murmured Bucky as he lazily kissed Sam's jaw.

Distracted Sam with a few more light kisses on Sam's face. Smirked like he just knew he could do that to Sam.

"I need to tell you something," said Sam, and Sam could hear the nervousness in his voice, "Something that I don't tell a lot of people."

"Is it that you're bi? Because, you know, we just had sex, so I kind of picked up the cues here, Samuel," said Bucky.

Sam laughed.

Cackled.

It was probably too much laughing, but Sam was still a little high from what just happened and while Sam hated to admit it, he liked Bucky's jokes.

"I'd be a little worried if you didn't pick that up," said Sam, grinning, "But this is a little more... complicated. Or just. I guess not something I talk about a lot."

It was as if Bucky was transfixed by Sam. Dazed because Sam smiled at him. Completely overflowing with gushy feelings, leaking them all over Sam. And if that wasn't the most annoyingly sweet look Sam had ever seen, Sam didn't know what sweet was.

Sam melted a bit when Bucky peppered him with more light kisses. All soft. And lackadaisical.

"I - I'm demisexual," explained Sam, glancing over to see Bucky thoughtfully waiting for Sam to continue, "... And that means, um. I don't - I don't usually feel sexual attraction unless. I. Have. A. Strong emotional bond with someone. So. Um. I just wanted you to know that."

"Sam Wilson. Are you telling me you have a strong emotional bond with me? Are you saying you like me?" teased Bucky, his smile wider now.

"You know what? Never mind. I rescind my coming out. You don't deserve it," grumbled Sam, squirming under Bucky's smile.

Bucky pinned Sam down. Not with his body, though, Bucky's body was still squarely on Sam, but with his eyes. His eyes filled with genuine joy.

"I'm sorry. I - I just really like you too, so it's nice to know you like me," said Bucky softly.

"Wouldn't be under you right now if I didn't," breathed Sam, unable to look away from Bucky's eyes.

Relaxed into Bucky's kiss.

"Did I mention that I like you a lot?" asked Bucky into the kiss, "Like, a lot a lot?"

Sam snickered.

"I think I got that," said Sam as Bucky settled back into his sleeping position, "Are you... it's okay that I'm...?"

Which was a weird question for Sam to ask. It shouldn't matter if Bucky was okay with it. This was insecurity creeping up on Sam.

"Sam, I have very little clue what 'demisexual' means and it is three in the morning. But I know I like you. And you like me. And I've gotten very good at google searches over the years, so I can probably learn everything about it when I wake up," yawned Bucky, "I accept you for all that you are, though. I always will."

Sam... might have wiped away a tear. He didn't know he was crying until then. he didn't expect it. But all the same, Sam felt safe as Bucky held him close and whispered love into Sam's skin.

#sambucky summer fling collection #sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambucky ficlet #domestic fluff #coming out #demisexual sam wilson #getting together #my ficlet

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fluffyprettykitty · 1 year

Text

resentment

Pairing: biker! Sam Wilson x female reader (no other specifications!)

Word Count: 1600 words

Outline: Sam always came around looking for one thing but this time he's gonna find out more than he ever thought he could.

Warnings: hate sex, rough play, swearing, toxicity, spit play, slapping, degradation, use of whore & slut, unprotective penetrative sex, ya know the usual stuff

Author’s Note: This is my entry for Missy's @saiyanprincessswanie 3.5K Challenge! Used the following: biker! au, the prompt, 'do you regret letting us end?' & hate sex. Missy congrats on your growing number of followers, your presence and work in the community are super important and you are such a delightful hard working person! wishing you the best always! Thanks to all you helped brainstorm with him for this fic <3

Main Masterlist ・❥・ Sam Wilson Masterlist

"You really wanna play like that?" Sam asks you, his breath hot on your neck his hands cupping your ass under your shorts in the quietness of the about-to-be-closed car wash.

Well, you would have closed up if your ex-boyfriend hadn't shown up, gold chain on his neck and a white shirt hanging so low all of his chest hair, and arms were exposed. He looked absolutely delicious, any girl would fall at his feet at a moment's notice.

But you weren't rolling like that. There was an argument. Your co-worker tried to defend you but you told her you could handle it and for her to check up on you in ten minutes through whispers and glares. She didn't want to see you in tears, you'd end up in tears anyway. Just not the kind she thought.

But then again not everyone was into what you wanted.

Ten minutes is a lot of time for famous local biker Sam Wilson. One of the most coveted men in California. And here he was pushing your body against the wall and his hand playing with the waistband of your shorts. Oh, how well does his hand fit right there?

"You don't want me here, sugar." He mused finally touching your bare skin that reacts to his touch familiarly. "You wish I'd just drop dead." He whistles playfully licking his tongue all over his bottom lip. You really wish you could remember what the original argument was about, but you know that's not important.

"I'm not that mean, Wilson." You roll your eyes and try to surpass the moan that wants so bad to get out as his large fingers discover your cotton panties. If you'd thought he'd be coming over today on all of the days, you might have worn something else...

"You really out here, entertaining other men."

"Didn't we break up?"

"Is this what you call breaking up?"

"You are only good for one thing, baby, focus on it." You snap back ready to talk the game when you need to.

"Oh is that how it is?"

"Yeah. I know why you're here. "

"So yesterday, late night, you didn't come with your little ugly boy to my club trying to provoke me?"

"Sam you have the only club down the coast."

"Excuses... excuses."

"Sam if I wanted to provoke you I'd fuck a dude right on your hood."

Something snapped inside him and Sam manhandles you in a way that has you now facing the wall, your back to him, a tight grip on your neck.

"Say that again." He whispers. "But mean it this time."

Well, it's not like you're going to hesitate at all.

"I would fuck a dude right under your nose. Maybe even on your bed., maybe I'd even send you pictures."

You know he's gonna see red, you want him to. He needs to stop coming down here where you work and act like this. You haven't been his for a while and it's a decision that was all his.

"I think that I am the only one willing to fuck your little tight ass. Look at it. Can barely hold a dick inside her even if she tried. C'mon who would wanna waste their time?"

To say that his degrading behavior didn't hurt your feelings or made you want to please him, even more, wanting to prove yourself to him, your own salvation, would be an understatement. His grip on your neck pressing your one cheek to the wall possessively has you reaching the most submissive state.

"Who could fuck you like that? Who could have your legs shaking with just three fingers inside the goddamn produce aisle? You fucking love your veggies, don't you, baby girl?"

A smack on your ass and this time you wail.

"Answer daddy. C'mon you remember how a girl can speak or is your stupid brain getting too hazy at the prospect of getting dick. Always such a dumb look on your face, eyes wide and bright begging to get filled like the little pathetic whore that you are. Tell me does your daddy know that the pretty little girl he raised has turned into nothing but a cum storage?"

You have to reply, you are fighting the urge to submit to his command and you master your courage. "F-fuck you, Sam! Anyone can fuck me, your big dick ain't that special."

"Oh. How about you repeat that after I shove it inside you."

"Won't change my mind."

"But you want it inside you."

"You want it more, Sammy, don't fool yourself."

"Only as long as you do, princess."

"Erik fucked me so good last night, cum was dripping down my thigh. I don't need your cock to fuck me good."

You think that would break him, that he'd made him rip your panties and fuck you senseless and your coworker would come inside to find you screaming and shaking. But Sam knows when you lie. Or maybe he stalked you a little.

"Erik sounds like he knows how to fuck a slut. Wanna show me how you fucked him? Wanna show him how you bounced on his cock begging that it was mine?"

"N-no!" You protest and try to look back at him even though it's not an easy task.

"He asked me on a date, something you've never done."

There is silence. Sam expected a lot of things but not this. His grip gets loose and finally, you turn around as his fingers slip from your skin, your mouths breathing air across each other.

Then his lips crush yours and you use your hands trying to push him off of you but you are happy he is finally setting himself loose. His hand finds your panties pushing them to the side, just to use his calloused fingers to touch your skin and amuse himself at your wetness.

But you wanna play. He deserves it.

So you slap him on the face as he lets go of the kiss and he is confused for a split second before he is slapping you back and crushing your lips together again. It excites you, your legs wrap around him as your hands wrap around his neck and he is fumbling with his low-cut jeans.

"You are really bad at holding in your excitement. Look at how wet you are, pathetic. You want me to believe a man fucked you last night? Baby your pussy speaks a different story."

"She just like getting fucked, doesn't matter whose cock is filling it."

And his cock is out, standing firm in attention, getting stroked a few times with his hand and his spit over it, the sheer sight always making you feral, and then it's inside you, breaching your velvet walls. He is pushing your body against the wall, the bright lights from the open sign illuminating your body. He is rough, he is precise, he is truly running out of time.

"If that's how it is. Maybe I don't need to look at your ungrateful face." He chuckles before he is slipping out of you and pushes your body to the floor you are scrambling to get steady on your knees as his body shields yours and he pushes his cock inside again. Fitting right where it should be. His hands are over yours, his hips moving against your body almost hatefully, aggressively, and possessively.

He fucked you like an object, his object, his to break, his to mend.

Smacks on your ass become more stingy as your hands can barely hold up as he almost stands up now, fucking your body so viciously. He wanted to break you, to make you admit, what you felt for him, hatred, passion, love, something, you must have felt something for him and he is gonna take it out of you.

When his fingers play with your clit, you cum instantly screaming his name and when he finishes he does so without stopping, just keep going pushing his cum right back inside you until he twisted you around again. Loose shirt hanging off his shoulders, chain dinging over your face, his face covered in sweat, his jeans rolled around his ankles. No boxers ever. Your shirt not moved at all, your shorts and panties pushed to the side, just enough to give him access to your holes.

"Did Erik fuck you like that?" He might seem confident cause he knows you haven't actually done that but you know exactly how to make him cry.

"He took my hand, dressed me up and showed me off to the world. Unlike you."

Now you weren't lying. He was a gentleman and after the club, he left you at home and asked to come to pick you up on Sunday for a little beach trip. Sam was tied to his city. Sam never went anywhere.

"This is my home."

"It's not mine though, Sam. One day I will move away, and I need someone to come with me. I can't be tied like this."

He finally snaps holds your chin up with his large hand and his dark chocolate eyes meet yours.

"Do you regret letting us end?"

The moment would have been oh so romantic if it wasn't for that stupid cocky smirk appearing on his face. Without hesitation you shake your head negatively.

There is no end to this. There can never be.

"Have we really ended?"

"Guess not."

Maybe if you picked it right at the start you could meet each other half way but for now you had to deal with the screech coming from your friend's mouth.

There is no ending for people who never truly started is there?

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