#I’m not letting Wilson cook y’all

[clonedchaos]

Replaying Dark Revival for the first time in months for the Halloween overlay and I forgot how creepy the elevator scene is. Like WILSON if you don’t stop your YAPPING I’m going to backhand you to the shadow realm. You’re making my girl uncomfortable! >:(

Wilson: “It’s beautiful out. Just… gorgeous.”

Me: “If you don’t shut the heck up I’m about to make your pronouns “L + ratio/ R.I.P. bozo”, old man.”

I MISSED THIS GAME SO MUCH, YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA!!!!!!

[twiisted-king]

⊙ THE SPOT BF HC’s ⊙

➟ The Spot / Jonathan Ohnn X GN!Reader 🕳️

➟ NSFW / SFW ( he has such raw sex appeal )

➟ TW : Insecurities, Workplace Abuse, Body Image, SEX, & Murder :)

————————————————————————

⊙ PRE-COLLIDER

— Jonathan is PAINFULLY average.

— Sure his colleagues like him and he has a good standing with his superiors, But he just doesn’t have a lot going for him.

— Which is why he wonders why an angel like you loves him so much.

— He enjoys the domesticity of y’all’s relationship when he isn’t stuck at the lab or doing scientific research. Like make the man a nice home cooked meal and take a shower with him, it makes him happy beyond belief.

— He has quips. Jonathan just loves making you laugh and he’s actually pretty good at laughing at himself whenever he does something stupid. He knows you won’t judge him.

— Kind of obsessed? Besides work, you are all he thinks about and focuses on. He has plans for the future of your relationship ( MARRIAGE ).

— He’s the type of person to keep a picture of you on his desk.

— Adding onto the obsessed part, he can be possessive. I feel like that’s a given with him.

— Jonathan is insecure. He knows that there are a lot of more attractive, cooler people out there and he worries that he’ll fuck up one day and you’ll leave him. Please comfort him.

— Arguments are few and far between. He’s good at resolving whatever issues that may come up with good ol’ communication.

— He keeps you as far away from his work life as possible. He NEVER EVER wants you to get caught up in the messes that are his projects and he knows just how dangerous working with physics is. Plus Wilson Fisk might use you as leverage to get Jonathan to do what he wants.

— sex time boys :)

— You wanna have sex .. WITH HIM!? That’s kind of his instant reaction though he isn’t opposed.

— I don’t think he’s a virgin, But he’s not the most experienced. He might’ve had a few partners in college though that’s about it. I’m sure he had a few admirers at Alchemax though he was far too busy with working to care plus he had you.

— I don’t think he has a preference for who is dominant and submissive. If you want to edge him until he cries that’s cool! But he’s also chill with taking the lead and fucking you into submission.

— This man is PACKIN’. You can disagree with me all you want, But it’s always the dorky ones that have the most dick. He probably thought that he wasn’t big since he’s since all of these videos talking about how “ 6 inches isn’t big enough yadi yada “. So he was incredibly nervous taking his pants off the first time and he just sorta held his breath, waiting for a reaction of disappointment. He ended up being pleasantly surprised in the end of and was more than happy to shove his dick down your throat.

— His dick is skinnier than it is thick. Poor dude has an INCREDIBLY sensitive head and a prominent vein running up the underside of his shaft.

— Prefers positions where he can see your face. He thinks eyes are the windows to the soul and being able to focus on your expressions makes sex 100X more enjoyable.

— SIT ON THIS MANS FACE. Force him to take all of you inside his mouth and then ride his nose until you’re seeing stars.

— Jonathan let’s out the pathetic noises. He’ll whine, whimper, moan, etc.

————————————————————————

⊙ POST-COLLIDER

— honey, you’ve got a big storm comin’

— He becomes almost 1,000X more clingy and loving.

— He’s absolutely horrified at what happened to him and feels like he’s a burden to you now. He can’t even kiss you for god’s sake!

— Spot will get steal gifts for you in an effort to make up for having to date an idiot like him. He’s much more withdrawn and silent though he’s still prone to using humor as a coping skill.

— Once he realizes that you aren’t going to leave him is probably when he resorts to crime. He would never leave you as the main breadwinner no matter how much you can provide for y’all and will do whatever he can to make sure you are well cared for.

— He’ll never allow you to go out with him when he’s committing crimes. If you were to get hurt or worse ( ahem die ) he would probably never forgive himself.

— You are now his world and he must protect his world at all cost.

— He’s become even more obsessed with your face now that he doesn’t have a proper one. Kissing is a little awkward, But he still appreciates that you’re willing to be affectionate with him.

— You can be curious about his spots, But don’t expect him to let you go through one. It’s already difficult enough for him to control them and he doesn’t want to send you to a whole other universe.

— He has become much more confident as The Spot. He’ll make big risky choices and no longer wants to be a doormat. Arguments are still uncommon though he isn’t afraid to defend the crimes he commits because at the end of the day it’s all for you.

— Being a interdimensional criminal isn’t the most ideal job, But it all comes back to his love for you and don’t ever forget that.

— Has told you to “ Come check out his hole “ a couple of times whenever he figures out his powers, he is definitely aware of how dirty he makes it sound.

— time to get down and dirty in Jonathan’s holes :)

— For starters, he didn’t LOSE his dick it’s just kind of chilling in a void pocket. Go read Spotless on AO3, The Spot actually has a dick in that fic in a way that makes sense.

— He’s grateful you still want to be intimate with him. He can be a little awkward sometimes though he makes up for it.

— Becoming a supervillain has made this man an absolutely menace in bed. He’ll overstimulate and edge you to make sure you remember he isn’t just some lowlife scientist anymore.

— Jonathan’s rougher and manhandles you, forcing you into whatever position he wants.

— It’s a little silly if you imagine it with his regular voice ngl, BUT THE MEAN VOICE? oh my god.

— Repeats phrases like “ mine “ whenever he fucks you and let’s out this raspy little laugh whenever you tell him it’s too much.

— It’s a little pointless for you to pleasure him now so he solely focuses on you. Plus it’s a way for him to blow off steam after a fight with Miles.

— Could you have sex with one of his holes? Does he even feel pleasure anymore? I have many questions that I will ignore for the sake of fanfiction.

— Imagine getting choked by this dude?

— This motherfucker definitely still whimpers though as The Spot and you can’t tell me otherwise.

[littlefoxpuppyboy]

Making an intro post bc I’ve been getting more attention than i thought i would on here…

I’m currently 19 years old (my birthday is in May)

I’m trans ftm (he/him), but currently can’t transition irl so I just stick to expressing myself online 😓

Small basic description of my appearance bc I don’t send pics of myself bc of some personal issues (but you can still send some pics of yourself): 5’8, with curly hair (usually reaching my chin but I’ve had a few bad haircuts that resulted in having a buzzcut 😭) and I like to dye my hair bright colors, usually pink but sometimes purple

Very subby, I love being called a good boy 🥺

I am pansexual, so I don’t give a shit about whats in your pants as long as I can have a taste

I currently have no hard limits, since I’m still exploring what I’m interested in, but I’ll let y’all know if I hit a limit

DMs are fine, asks are fine (including anon) but fair warning even though I took like 4 college level english classes in high school I have trouble with words when I get horny so I tend to use a lot of emojis

Don’t worry if I take a while to respond to DMs or asks, my sleep schedule is very fucked rn and I never know when I’m going to fall asleep or wake up

My sexual interests: I like anything that includes me being submissive 🥺 Call me a good boy, send me threats, tell me exactly what you would do to me if we were locked in a room together. Do whatever you want, I’m just here to be used and abused (although some nice soft stuff is fun too so don’t feel like you have to be super rough)

My nonsexual interests: History, mythology/folklore, photography, music, cooking

Beware, I have ADHD and autism so I will go on a nerdy rant about my interests if given the right opportunity

Poll I posted here said for me to share my paypal, its not my actual legal name so don’t bother looking it up, theres nothing connected to it except an email address

I will add to or change this message as needed

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Looking for a Place to Happen 5

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape, age gap, general stupidity, some violence and threats, coercion, manipulation, trauma, sextoy, recording, anal.

This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: It was close but y’all wanted more Birch!Sam so here we go. This one is... porn. Let’s be honest lmao.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 5: Come on in, sit right down

💀💀💀

It was a pain you’d never felt before. It was more than physical, it was deep, it was like part of you was missing. Something taken from you. More than just that outdated concept of purity that you never bought into, more so your autonomy. You never felt very in control of your life, trapped in the small town with dreams but now your life was completely out of your grasp.

Sam left late, some time after midnight. It didn’t matter, you still felt him inside of you. You tried to rinse him off of you, out of you, but the shower only left you cold and hollow. You gave up on sleep just after five in the morning and you typed in a trance, barely thinking as your fingers fluttered over the keyboard.

Hours passed like days and you descended as you heard your nan below, the clink of her heavy cast iron pot on the stove. She cooked her oatmeal in it and it was heavy enough to hammer back in the loose floorboard in front of the fridge. She offered you some as you entered the kitchen and you sat at the table with a sigh.

“Is that man coming back?” she asked.

You tilted your head at her as she put a bowl in front of you and the bag of sugar just for you. You sprinkled the brown granules over your oatmeal and added milk, “you looking forward to it?”

“The only reason I didn’t spray Lysol in his eyes was because of you, girly,” she sat heavy with the jar of artificial sugar and the little cinnamon container, “you know I’d do anything to keep you safe even if you’re too dumb for your own good.”

You nodded and scooped up the thick oatmeal. You pushed your tongue through the oats and said nothing.

“I told you to stay away from that bar,” she huffed. The crotchety old lady was back.

“You seemed happy enough about the pie and wine,” you shrugged.

“You think I don’t know his kind. I’m an old lady, that won’t keep him from cracking my skull like poor old Mikey Rae,” she tutted, “that was the first biker I fucked with.”

“Nan,” you gasped at her language.

“Well, you’re an adult now. Gonna have to grow up quick if you messin’ with those boys,” she pointed her spoon at you, “but you say the word and I’ll twist his balls off. Being old only means I gotta be patient.”

You couldn’t help but snicker. You knew she was serious and you realised then that it was all a show. A cautious act that you’d mirrored for her own sake. But this was a problem you had to deal with yourself. The one thing you couldn’t live with was bringing harm to the woman who raised you.

“No ball twisting, nan,” you shook your head, “alright?”

“For now,” she returned, “but you be careful, girly. You’re in deep enough.”

“I know,” you bit the edge of your lip, “nan?”

“Mmm,” she grumbled as she swallowed.

“Mikey Ray, if he was one of them, who bashed him?” you asked.

“The second one, Colin,” she frowned, “cocky bugger, took what he wanted… until he got what he couldn’t handle.”

“And what happened to him?”

It was the most your nan ever told you about those days, more inclined to talk about her hippy festivals and protest arrests.

“I twisted his balls off,” she snickered, “in a manner of speaking.”

You drew your brows together as you watched her take another bite and she opened the pocket book of crosswords she kept on the table.

“In a manner of speaking?” you wondered.

“I plead the fifth,” she took the pencil from between the pages and adjusted her thick glasses, “but he wasn’t around to cause me any trouble.”

You shoved another spoonful into your mouth and sat back. You always thought your nan was a tough old bitch, you couldn’t imagine what she was like when she was your age.

💀

Sam showed up just after noon. You weren’t surprised but you weren’t happy either. You were only thankful he came in the back. You didn’t need Nan following through on her threats and you would rather she didn’t know about the visit. If you were fortunate, she didn’t notice him for her knitting.

He knocked on your door and you unlocked it. He made no move to enter as he twirled your phone between his fingers.

“Charged it last night,” he smiled, “thought we could have some more fun.”

“I’m working,” you said quietly.

“Did I ask?” his lips straightened and he tilted his head, “and it’s about time you came over. Kind feels off with the old lady just on the other side of the wall.” You winced at the memory of the night before. He noticed and chuckled. “Kinda hot too but… still,” he mused.

“You can’t come back later?” you crossed your arms.

“You were so good last night,” he said, “I don’t like this little game you’re playing so don’t make me give the old lady a show. Let’s go.”

You dropped your arms and grabbed your thinner jacket from the back of your chair and shoved your feet into your zip up Martens. He waited with his arm across the open door and you stepped past him as his other hand went to your ass and squeezed. He closed the door and followed you down the wooden steps.

The snow wasn’t as deep as the first fall and you crunched through to the sidewalk. He placed his arm over your shoulders as he ushered you along to the main road. You passed The Asp and cut through the lot as he waved to other members of the club.

“I talked to Bucky, let him know you won’t be an issue any longer,” he said, “right?”

“Right,” you echoed and hugged yourself against the bitter air.

“Aw, honey, don’t worry, we’re about to get you warmed up,” he led you down another side street and up the paved walk of a pale blue house, “this is my place, Chez, uh, Wilson.”

He let you inside and nudged you further in as he followed. You slid out of your boots and he helped you out of your jacket. His impatience showed as he unzipped his coat and tore off his own boots. He took out your phone and grinned.

“Today,” he held it up, “you can get this back… if you earn it.”

You stared at him and picked at the hem of your shirt. His eyes followed the movement of your fingers and he licked his lips.

“Why yes, you can take that off, that’s a great start,” he purred, “all of it.”

You clenched your teeth and gripped the fabric nervously. He shouldered past you and pointed across the front room.

“You can go wait for me in there,” he said, “I’ll be a couple.”

You nodded and made to pass him but he stopped you before you could enter the living room. The place was cozy even if you didn’t want to be there. He bent and turned your face up to kiss you sloppily. He tapped your ass again as he urged you onward.

“Gotta loosen you up,” he taunted, “in more ways than one.”

You continued across the room if only to get away from him, even if it wouldn't be for long. You pushed past the painted door and entered the bedroom. The wall was hung with a large framed diagram of a Harley and another of a bike engine. There was a large poster for the Godfather and a Marvin Gaye album leaned against a retro player. The bed was made and the carpet freshly vacuumed.

You went to the dresser and looked over the dog tags that hung from a miniature statue of David. You looked up at the large mirror over the dresser and you looked as scared as you felt. You gulped down your nerves as he entered and looked away from your reflection.

He had a stool in hand and kicked the door closed. He placed it between the bed and the dresser. He kept his hands on the top and his chest flexed beneath his grey henley. He watched you knowingly and tutted.

“You’re not naked,” he said, “don’t you want this back?”

He let go of the stool and revealed your phone once more. You murmured and lifted your shirt slowly. He went to the dresser and unfolded a small metal tripod and affixed the cell to it. He angled it then slid out the top drawer. You scoffed as he turned around with a large suction dildo and stuck it to the top of the stool, your hands frozen on your open fly.

“Um, what the hell?” you sputtered.

“I think you know what the hell but I’m more than happy to give direction,” he wiggled the dildo and let it wobble as he pulled away.

You gaped at it. You couldn’t fit that whole thing in you. How were you even supposed to get yourself onto that?

“Honey, quit stalling,” he warned as he put his hands on his hips. You blinked at him and scowled, “or we can make a special post for TikTok… but I think it might be against their terms of service.”

You glanced away and pushed down your jeans. You let your socks crumple in the ankles and stood to unhook your bra. He hummed as he moved to lean against the wall beside the dresser and crossed his arms over his chest. You hesitated before you shimmied out of your panties, shying away as you eyed the stool.

“Oh,” he pushed away from the wall and reached into the drawer again. He tossed you a tube and you caught it. Lubricant. “You’re gonna wanna get some of that on there.”

You inhaled deeply and flipped open the cap. You cringed as you hovered the bottle over the tip of the dildo and squirted it onto the silicone. You spread it down the length of the toy and your hand shook. You felt him watching you as embarrassment burned through you.

You finished and capped the lube and set it on the dresser. He nodded to the toy and lifted a brow. You hid your discomfort and approached the stool. You stepped up onto the crossbar and clung to the edge of the seat as you brought your knee up. You felt as if it would all topple as you brought your other leg up.

You shuddered as you felt the tip against your cunt and you reached unsteadily between your legs. You rubbed the head of the toy against your folds to spread the lube and peeked over at Sam.

“Go on,” he ordered, “if you can get that whole thing inside you, I’ll give you your phone back.”

You gripped the toy and pushed it back to your entrance. You lowered yourself a little so it stretched you just slightly. You scrunched your nose at the discomfort and slowly eased further onto it. You got halfway and stopped as you gasped. Your fingers curled around the seat and the toy.

“You’re doing good, honey,” his voice was smoky and you looked at yourself in the mirror. The phone blocked the bottom half of the toy but you could see your cunt around the top.

You bent your knees further and groaned as your walls strained around the dildo. Your eyes watered as it hit your cervix and you arched your back to take it as deep as you could. You cried out as you reached the base.

“Whoa, you really did it,” he mused, “fuck, you look good all stretched out.”

You whimpered and adjusted your legs as you tried not to slip.

“Well, you know what to do,” he motioned up and down with his fingers.

“Please,” you breathed, “I did--”

“Not done yet,” he said pointedly.

You huffed and lifted yourself carefully. You pushed back down and let out a moan as the toy grazed your walls. The fullness was overwhelming, a painful pressure laced with pleasure. You rocked your hips as you moved on your knees and gripped the edge of the stool, mindful not to shake the stool too much.

You closed your eyes as your breath hitched. You needed more. The toy could only do so much as your clit thrummed and the wetness spread down your thighs.

“Mmmm,” Sam came around you and snaked his arm down your front. He pushed his fingers between your swollen folds and circled your bud, “you like that, don’t you, honey?”

You whined as your nerves sparked at his fingertips and you sped up. He planted his foot on the crossbar to keep the stool from tipping and you rode out your orgasm as his touch spurred you on.

“Ah, fuck,” he pressed against your back, “I’m so fucking hard.”

You panted and opened your eyes. You looked at yourself in the mirror but quickly shied away. You were weak, so weak.

He stepped around you and reached for the lube. You watched him as you didn’t move from atop the toy and he rounded you again. He drizzled the lube between your cheeks and flung the lube away. He pushed his fingers along your ass and lingered on your tight ring. You winced and tried to lift yourself off the dildo.

He caught your shoulder and held you down.

“Again,” he ordered.

You glanced at him in the mirror and he gave you a stern look as his fingers tightened around your shoulder. You held your breath and began to fuck the toy again. He nuzzled the back of your head and poked against your ass until his finger slid inside. You cried out and his hand went to your neck as he urged you on.

“Ah, honey,” he whispered against your hair.

He drew his finger in and out of your ass as a burning pressure seared through you and added to that in your cunt. 

“You can touch yourself,” he uttered as his fiery breath encircled you.

You did so without thinking. He pushed another finger into you and a squeak escaped your lips. You couldn’t help but delight in how the sensations mingled and bloomed to a new climax. He sped up in time with your hips and your legs shook as you came in a series of strangled mewls.

He kept on until you slowed to catch your breath. He slipped his fingers out of you and your head lolled as he removed his hand from your neck. You heard his zipper and as you looked back, his hand stretched across the back of your head and turned it straight. He bent so his head was next to yours and grasped your chin as he made you look at him in the mirror.

“One more time, honey,” he pulled his dick out and his tip brushed along your ass.

You tried to lift yourself off the toy but he hooked his arm around your middle and kept you on it.

“Sam, no, please,” you begged, “I can’t--”

“You can handle it all, honey,” he purred, “I know you can.”

His tip pressed to your ring as he forced you down on the toy. You exclaimed and he pushed until you stretched around the head of his cock. You gritted your teeth and threw your head back against his shoulder. 

He pulled back and pushed in again. He got deeper with each slow thrust, an inch at a time, until you were filled by him and the toy. Your eyes welled and the tears trickled down your cheeks as you held onto the stool and grunted through each tilt of his hips.

He trailed his hand down between your legs and spread your folds as he flicked your clit with his middle finger. He moved you against him and on the toy. He pushed into as the dildo reached its limit and your voice grew louder and louder. 

Through the agony, you couldn’t help but feel the unyielding tingle in your core and it crawled down your thighs and up your spine. The stool rocked with his motion but he kept you flush to him as he fucked you from behind. Your legs slipped over the side of the seat and you were impaled on the toy.

He didn’t let up as you gasped and gulped, whining as your cunt twitched around the silicone and you came as you reached back to scratch at his open jeans. He rutted into you without relent as he kneaded your thighs and his breath seared down your flesh.

“Ah, honey,” he muttered through his delighted groans, “goddamn, god-- shit, I’m gonna fill you up.”

He slammed into you as deep as he could and you felt him burst. He gave several long thrusts as rode out his orgasm and groaned. When he stilled he leaned against you and sighed.

“You can have the phone back,” he rasped as he caressed your thigh, “tomorrow.”

[w00wzerz]

WARNINGS : NONE

Tags: Fluff, Angst, Icons, Imagines, Headcanons, One-shot

_____________________________________________________________________

Sarah ran her soft fingertips over his metallic arm, simply contemplating all the majestical things he could do with it in the bedroom. Blushing at her own thoughts she quickly shook it off and pulled away. “Are you ready to help?”

It was the largest gathering that the small town in New Orleans had ever seen! Sam had invited his distant cousins from most of the neighboring cities. The Wilson family cook out was a popular event and was even crowned the most famous tourist spot of the summer! Only contested by the Louisiana folks during the majorly eventful Bayou festival in mid May.

The small dock erupted in cheers and laughter as Hey Ya! by OutKast blasted loudly, consuming the crowd and forcing everyone to the center of the dock.

“What you young-ins know about this jam!” Sam slid from the back of the boat, four cases of Corona beers in both hands,  with a contented grin plastered onto his face. Aj and Cass not too far behind.

“Where’s your mother anyway? Y’all been stuck with me all day.” Sam arched a confused brow at the two boys who shrugged their tiny shoulders in unison. “Last - I saw her with Uncle Bucky, packing the food.” Aj said before grabbing his brother’s hand and leading him to the center of the dance circle.

“Uncle Bucky?” Both of Sam’s brows shot up his forehead. “When did he get here?” He whispered to himself, when he placed the cases by the cooler on the table - and began his quest for his sister and his best friend.  

———————————————————————-

“This is my famous king crab Bucky.” Sarah shot a pearly white smile as she lathered the crab in spicy garlic butter sauce. She then gently stacked them onto one another in an oversized foil plate.

It was the time of the year where all of the eligible bachelorettes would slither their way to the dock in search of their “future husbands.” Sarah had already taken her loses and retired from the game - ever since the death of her husband. However, today seemed special, it was the first time in years that her stomach knotted in curls from butterflies so much so, that she thought she’d puke. Her youth sprung about anytime Bucky was around, similarly to a school girl with her very first crush. He just brought out the best in her, so she decided why not look the part.

Sam had mentioned to her that her skin glistened whenever she wore the color yellow. Despite how out of character it was for him to be so blunt about literally - anything, Sarah decided to take his advice and throw on her favorite off shoulder cut, form fitting sun dress. Her long senegalese twists were tied into a high bun and wrapped in a yellow ribbon that flowed behind her in pure elegance.

Turning the corner of her bedroom - on her way to the kitchen, she was greeted by a well dressed Bucky in a tight blue knit sweater that hugged his body in all the right places! And dark black jeans that displayed his full basketball trunk. He stood over a boiling pot of king crabs on the stove. Clearing her throat quite loudly, she caught his attention almost immediately. As he turned to face her his eyes widened in astonishment, almost as if he had sinfully taken a peak at the worlds most beautiful piece of treasure.

“Wow,” was all Bucky could muster when gravity became the main puppeteer, forcefully drawing them towards one another. He smiled sheepishly and continued “you look lovely Sarah.” Returning his grin she replied “and you don’t look so bad yourself, Uncle Bucky.”

Pulling him into a tight embrace Bucky’s chin rested in the corner of Sarah’s neck. He took in the scent of her sweet Vanilla Bean cologne. If he could have his way, he would have swallowed her whole that very instant. He wished for nothing more than to have her succumbed to his own desires, clawing his name on his back as she screams in pure ecstasy. Bucky swayed rhythmically with her movements, it took all of his energy not to instinctively plant a soft kiss between her neck and trail.

Sarah ran her soft fingertips over his metallic arm, simply contemplating all the majestical things he could do with it in the bedroom. Blushing at her own thoughts she quickly shook it off and pulled away. “Are you ready to help?”

————————————————————————

“When I’m done with this batch, can you wrap it in aluminum foil and carry it to the front table for our guests?” Sarah faced the stove top, her back turned to a confused Bucky, who watched her work in utter amazement.

Bucky was familiar with crab as a cuisine, and had tasted a fair share of it during his time in Wakanda. However, he had never seen it prepared before him.

“So does it like ... cry or anything when you place it in the boiling water ... alive?” He asked innocently, when Sarah sighed in disbelief and sat the lathering brush onto the table. Her heart fluttered at his innocence, but her mind pondered in continuous confusion. She wondered just how much Bucky had missed out on in the last 70 years or just seemingly had minimal to no experience on. Turning to face him a smile crept its way up her plump lips as she answered nonchalantly “I don’t have an answer for you Bucky.”

His blue eyes glistened in curiosity as they scanned over Sarah’s features, she was unlike any woman that he had ever seen. From her bright dark brown eyes to the cute little indentation by her nose, Bucky found himself lost in their tight gaze. Until he eventually landed on Sarah’s plush pink lips. Sarah noticed Bucky’s observance and smiled shyly. Her cheeks flushed when she subconsciously ran her tongue over her lips. Of course she wanted to grapple Bucky right then and there, she had wanted to do so since she first laid eyes on the man. But one of her biggest fears was getting involved with a hero. She already had her plate full with Sam, was she really ready to add another burden to the list?

————————————————————————

“There you guys are!” Sam grinned and pulled Sarah into a tight embrace “I was beginning to worry.”

“Aw Sam, you missed me, how sweet.” Bucky winked as Sam glared his way. Placing the trays of king crabs with roasted corn and potatoes, buttermilk biscuits and cajun shrimp onto the table, Sarah called for the event goers to each grab a plate and head for the grub.

Sam handed both Bucky and Sarah a pair of gloves before taking a seat at the edge of the table. He pinched Aj and Cass’s noses when they playfully snatched his plate from before him. “Y’all better stop playing before I tell your mama to send you to bed early.” He smiled when they took a seat next to him.

He watched bewildered by his sisters boldness when she took a seat by Bucky. Running her finger tips over his armored arm, he noticed that she began to play her fingers through her twists. Her grin from ear to ear as she engaged in conversation with Bucky, the same thing she used to do when she had a crush on a boy in high school.

“So where’s the crab opener?” Bucky asked, facing Sam who’s face scrunched in utter disgust. Sarah bursted into a fit of laughter when Aj and Cass joined as well.

“We don’t use that utensil around these parts, buddy.” Bucky’s brow arched in confusion when Sam picked up a crab leg and ripped it in half with one tug. “You see here?” He placed the piece into his mouth and used his teeth to crack the shell methodically, in an instant the entire meat was stripped from the leg. “Now that’s how you eat a crab leg! Let me see you do it.”

All eyes were now glued onto Bucky as he studied the crab leg. His blue eyes narrowed when he used his metal arm to pick up the leg and snapped it in half effortlessly. Sarah’s eyes widened as she watched Bucky smile contently to himself. He placed the crab to his lips, intricately running his tongue over every square inch of it. He shot Sarah a mischievous smirk, before pulling it out with a loud plop! “Tasty.”

Sarah flushed immediately, inching her way out of her seat. While Sam glared intently, picking up a piece of shrimp and sulking in his defeat.

[achliegh]

Golden

Yeehaw Leo… it's all because this song came on one day (I don’t even really listen to country anymore so it really is fate). Leo is based off that song, each chapter is going to be based off a yeehaw song too.

Characters belong to @lumosinlove

Beta: @the-most-slyterin-hufflepuff & @punkkkboi

TW/CW: Smut, terrible yeehaw sayings and jokes, injuries, mentions of past death, minor character death, underage drinking, mentions of past arrests, cringe

Chapter Songs (listening in order is recommended):

Chapter 5:

Redneck Woman

Red Solo Cup

Eloise smiles as Leo continues to ramble on about these boys who have clearly stolen his heart. She sips her black coffee and sets it down on the counter she is leaning against. Walking over to her offspring, that is a total of two inches taller than her, she kisses his cheek causing him to stop mid sentence.

“Was I rambling too much?” The red appearing on his cheeks made her smile, ruffling his hair that is in need of his yearly head shave. He swats her hand away. “I know it's long but because someone told me how to keep my hair healthy.” Looks pointedly at her as she snorts. “I only cut my hair once a year and it's a full shave.” He sticks out his tongue.

“Who even raised you to be so disrespectful?” She dramatically puts her hand on her chest, then tightens the ties on her robe. Giving him a motherly smile she thanks him as he puts some toad in a hole on a plate for her. “I don’t have my hearing friend in to help me listen to you,” She makes a gesture like she is swooning with her hand on her forehead and her hand fanning herself. “ GuSh, about your hockey boys. But, it is very sweet.”

“I really like them Mama… I think you and Daddy would too.” He focuses on his toast as he takes a bite and brushes the crumbs onto the floor, much to Eloise’s annoyance. She knows this is a sign of him wanting to trust his emotions but doesn’t want to jinx himself.

“Come here, let's get all the motherly squishing done before Clay and… what was his name? Rex?” She pulls him into a tight hug and crushes him in her arms with her old lady strength. He relaxes completely into her and hugs back just as tight but making sure not to hurt her. He makes sure to have his head on her right shoulder so she can hear him.

“Reg, his name is Regulus but we call him Reg. I think you should try and adopt him like you did with Clay. Pseudo Mother is just your personality now that you are so old.” He squeaks and gets out of her death grip hug as she pokes his ribs. “RUDE!”

She is still cackling as Clayton bursts through the door announcing his entrance, running into the kitchen.

“I smell food!” He hops on the counter and begins earring Leo’s breakfast. She pats his knee with a happy yet defeated look on her face. She has told him so many times not to climb on the counters that cost more than some people's entire house. “Mm! Ma, meet Reg.” He gestures to a boy who looks like he feels entirely out of place, she was going to tell Clay off for talking with his mouth full but she has a new mission now.

Protect this kid.

After making a mess and eating, Clay and Leo go out to load the trailer and Horses up for the drive to Texas where the rest of their team already is. Eloise has started on the dishes and looks over to Reg and nods him over.

“You know how to rinse dishes?”

“No Ma’am.” She smiles at him and pushes the faucet to face the sink in front of him.

“No need to call me Ma’am, call me Eloise. Now, you just run the dish under the hot warmer and get all the suds off. Make sure I don't miss any food or spots because I am just a helpless old lady at the end of the day.” She gets a small smile to form at his lips as she shows him exactly how to rinse. An easy task, but one that he was never taught. That triggers something in her head that makes her think he was told he only has one purpose in life. No one only has a single purpose in life. “Who are your parents Reg?” She notices him tense at the question and immediately regrets asking.

“Orion and Walburga Black.” Simple and straightforward answer. He doesn’t want to talk about them. She nods and hums in acknowledgement. Passing the last few dishes in silence, she drains the sink and turns to look at him.

“So, what did Marigold and Bluebell tell you to convince you to come with them this summer?” She smiles at him as his whole demeanor changes. He smiles that same small smile but he visibly relaxes.

“First off, Marigold… Bluebell? What the fuck kinda names are those.” Eloise laughs in surprise. “Second, we watched tiktoks half drunk together for two hours while the rest of the team socialized.” She nods her head, that does sound like what those two would do. “And Third, I have been needing to get away from my brother and his boyfriend so they can boink in peace and not have to worry about me hearing.” He looks at her and his smile drops off his face. “Sorry, Leo told me you were laid back and I thought it would be alright to share this type of stuff with-”

“Reg I think you are a wonderful man who is going to keep those two pea-brains in line while on the road. Maybe loosen up a little yourself.” She smiles. “Is it alright if I give you physical affection? I tend to be a touchy person and not realize it.” He pauses for a moment and then nods, she pats his cheek and smiles as the other two walk back into the kitchen.

Reg is still a little stunned when Clay throws his arm around his shoulder and jostles him around.

After kisses and hugs goodbye Leo hops into the driver's seat, Clay in the passenger and Reg in the middle seat of the back. Reg has barely seen a truck in his life but this vehicle was fucking huge. Giant. Thicc some might say. The first few hours of driving was a podcast that Clay was in the middle of listening to when he picked up Reg. Once that ended Reg descended into music hell.

He has come to the conclusion that most country songs are about the three G’s.

Guns, God, Goodies (meaning like titties)

He was absolutely taken aback by how Leo was screaming, we can’t call it singing its terrible, these songs that are the complete opposite of him. Clayton at least liked goodies. There was one song that will probably stick with Reg his entire life. Redneck Woman by Gretchen Wilson.

Holy shit. When that song came on it was like Leo and Clay were having a contest of who could sing it the loudest. So, Reg decided that for his first check in with the team. Which Sirius was making him do because he is paranoid. Reg decided he would turn around in his seat and film a video of him painfully smiling and giving a thumbs up to the camera as Leo and Clay scream at each other.

“I’M A REDNECK WOMAN AIN’T NO HIGH PRICE GAL!”

Clay sees Reg recording and flips off the camera still singing. An hour later they pull up to this massive ranch style AirBnB with stables and all. It must have cost a fortune. Reg hops out of the truck and feels out of place, Yeehaws everywhere. Okay, there were like three of them and this giant man with long hair and a braided beard, covered in tattoos just reading a book on the front porch.

“That's our tattoo artist, he travels with us because he is the only person Leo and I trust to tattoo us. You’d like him, his name is Hagrid. But, no time to chit chat! We need to teach you some of the basics, we’ve got a rodeo in two nights. I am competing on Leroy and Peanut is just here for fun. How about we teach you how to care for them a bit?” Clay smiles at him and Reg remembers he is with people who want to be friends with him… for him. Not because of hockey or his family, not because his brother made them. Just for him. Reg went willingly with Clay to watch Leo as he led the horses one by one out into a pen for them to roam around in for a bit.

Clay went into more detail about how they care for them and what he thinks Reg can do. It was night already so they decided to go inside, Leo asked around to see what people were hungry for and made almost anything after someone had got groceries.

“I didn’t know you could cook.” Reg was sitting across the island from Leo as he finished up the food, having watched him make the entire meal.

“Mama taught me how to cook when I was younger, it was the one thing I did that wouldn’t get me in trouble with the law.” He rolls his eyes at the thought of the sheriff and Reg decides not to press. “What do you want to do tomorrow while Clay practices?”

They got wasted. Mostly on jello shots, Leo taught Reg the trick: rim job, blow job, swallow. Leo had promised the boys he would call them, he didn’t want to do it drunk but he misses them like crazy. Drunk or not he was going to call them. So, there he is sitting on the balcony out of his bedroom waiting for them to answer. Finn picks up first, shirtless and sweating.

“Okay Finn, I love this” Gesturing in a circle at Finn who just smiles out of breath and wipes his face with a towel. “But I need you to calm down, because I’m a little tipsy and that means I’m very horny.” He smiles when Finn laughs.

“Well I’m glad to know that even on truth serum you find me attractive.” Finn sets his phone down but props it up on some books as he finishes his warm down stretches from his run he just came back from.

Then Logan picks up, in Leo’s T shirt he left for him last time. It was baggy on him and his hair was messed up from sleeping. The side of his face is a little red and there are lines from his pillow squished into his face. He sleepily smiles at the camera.

“Hi Leo.” Leo groans in response and leans his head back.

“You two are gonna be the death of me. Fucking Christ.” He signs and looks at Logan who is suddenly bright red but smiling back. “You’re beautiful Sweet Pea.”

“Really?” Logan looks at him with such big unbelieving eyes that it breaks Leo’s heart.

“Mhm you and Finn make my little heart do a pitter-patter every time I think of y’all.” Being drunk Leo’s accent is incredibly thick.

“You sound like a true southern man there, Le. How is Texas?” Finn is sitting on the ground criss cross with his hands resting on his knees. Logan has laid back down and snuggled up with his blanket on his side. “You’ve been there a day right?”

“Yes sir! I have been here for a full 27 hours now and I can say, it ain’t no Louisiana but it’ll do.” He shows off his chipped tooth and hears a trilling sound on his railing and looks over to see a mama opossum with her babies hanging on her back. He smiles and flips the camera. “Look at This Little Mama!” He reaches his hand out and she looks at it suspicious. Logan told Leo to stop and Finn said no, but he knows what he’s doing.

To their surprise, the mama just lets Leo pet her under her chin and Finn takes so many pictures. The opossum lets Leo pet her babies with his finger and he pats her head on last time before he goes inside to flop on his bed.

“So, We’ve been thinking” Leo lifts his phone to be above his face as he slowly starts dozing off. “We want to come out.” Leo’s eyes snap open and he drops the phone on his face, rolling over to his stomach he wiggles his nose as he processes what Finn just said.

“Wait, like all three of us or just your two?”

“Well, we thought we would leave that up to you…”

“I think to start, it would be safest for all of us, if you two came out together first. We can talk about me coming out when I’m done traveling this summer, okay?” They all smile at each other nervously and Finn notices a couple of watery sniffles from Logan, they were going to talk to Dumo and Sirius tomorrow. Maybe then they can talk more.

“Leo, do you want to move in… in the fall? Winter? I mean you don’t have too but I would like it and I bet Logan would too. We miss you.” Finn has his fingers crossed where the others can’t see.

Silence.

“I would love to, let me give you my Mama’s number. She will be so glad to get me out of the house the rest of the year.” He laughs a little, they fall into a comfortable silence and Leo drifts off, fully dressed in his boots and everything. Clutching his phone like he never has.

Finn knocks on the Dumias door the next day. Nervous about this talk they are going to have with the other French speaking people. Finn can’t speak French so he hopes they don’t start speaking it because he will just up and leave. Logan opens the door and Finn can’t help the soppy smile that crosses his face when he sees Logan in his sweatshirt. He wondered where it went. Logan and Him walk into the dinning room where Sirius and Dumo are talking about new plays they want to practice. They look up when they enter the room and stand across from them.

“Dumo, Sirius I need you to mind your fucking business.”

“What he means to say is why did you tell Leo that he hurt Logan?” Finn translated.

“I was the one that hurt Leo! Leo did nothing and you guys fucking made him doubt us even more!” Logan crossed his arms and Finn rested a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

“What? That's why you were so sad? Because of something you did… Logan, I know we sound like broken records at this point but please start talking to us.” Dumo looks at him with a slightly frustrated look in his eyes but also worry. It makes Logan’s skin crawl.

“I think you meant well with the shovel talk, but Logan was the one who broke things off with Leo before it even started. He told Leo we didn’t want him and all this other shit that was Logan being… scared.” Finn feels Logan take his hand and interlock their fingers. He looks at the smaller man and squeezes his hand as a way to say, I’m here.

Dumo and Sirius didn’t get another word in before Logan was dragging Finn out the door. Staying at his apartment for a few days. Lo already has some clothes there and… they had to film something special.

Rodeo the next day went well. The after party was even better.

They were in a large steel building with everyone, concrete floors covered in dirt with people swinging dancing their hearts out. Leo was drinking and Clay was drinking, they somehow managed to lose clay about twenty minutes ago. Reg was getting a facetime from Sirius and answered it so Sirius doesn’t worry, the music is so loud that he can barely hear him until a less background heavy song comes on and Leo is humming it while drinking out of his red solo cup.

“Reg where are you!?” Sirius was yelling because it was so loud and Remus was in the background trying not to laugh.

“I’m at an after party! Are you with the team?” Sirius nods and flips the camera to show everyone and Leo’s eye catches his boys.

“FINN! LOGAN!” He yells super loud so everyone turns to face sirius’ phone. “IF YOU WERE HERE RIGHT NOW I WOULD TOTALLY SUCK YOUR DICKS IN THE BATHROOM! AT THE SAM- CLAY!” Leo sees Clay in the ocean of people and scurries off before finishing his sentence. Reg looks back at his phone and shrugs. Finn and Logan are bright red and getting chirped to hell for sure but the music is so loud that he can’t hear them.

“I’ll call you when I get back to the BnB!” Sirius nods and hangs up. Wrestling two drunk idiots into an uber is fine but getting them out was like untangling headphones that you left in your pocket for three years.

Just legs everywhere.

Hands? Don’t know how to use them.

Braincell? Reg has it.

At some point Clayton started crying because a guy he thinks he has a crush on has a girlfriend and he isn’t Leo so he can’t convince two people to love him. Very dramatic. Leo thinks he lost his phone, even though he gave it to Reg at the beginning of the night, and he is worried someone will find it and steal his nudes for their own. Reg doesn’t even know how to respond to that.

Waking up the next morning. Leo has a mild headache, but nothing that will stop him from driving. It was going to be a good day. Especially when Leo got his phone back and saw a tiktok notification from Finn and Logan.

They came out last night.

Time to wreak havoc.

[desiraypark]

Thursday Night

It’s Thursday night and you, a museum gallery associate, just want to come home and rest.

Characters: Sam Wilson x Black Fem Reader x OCs

Content: Fluff, Romance, Implied Racism and/or Sexism, Food, Assurance, Reference to Christianity/Religion (Prayer/”thanking God”) Author’s Note: You’re not from Louisiana--or at least, not from Sam Wilson’s hometown. Also on AO3

You returned home in search of quiet and rest—but, damn. It was Thursday. The first Thursday of the month. Spades Night.

The first Thursday of every month, Sam would have some of his friends over to play Spades. Humorous banter and friendly braggadocio would quickly turn into yelling, cursing, and playground insults. Chuck from up the street would typically leave the house pleading his own case: not guilty of reneging.

The sight of cars in the gravel driveway made you sigh. Thankfully, they never parked in your spot. They knew better. You climbed out of the driver’s seat and let your pumps lead you to the front door. Before you put the key in, you could smell the fried shrimp and hear the passionate banter. You opened the door and all of your senses were heightened—the men were louder, the scent of fried seafood was stronger.

“Alright, man—you had seven and a possible last time. You’d better be right this damn time!” Sam’s voice resonated throughout the house.

You bit your lip to conceal a chuckle. Your heels clicked toward the dining room and before you could really peek your head in, you could hear the silence. You smiled at Sam—sitting proudly at the round table with Mr. Carlos’ boy, Junie, Sam’s longtime friend, Marcus, and of course, his partner was good old’ Chuck from up the street.

Sam flashed his gap-toothed smile at you. “Hey, Baby!”

“Hey, Honey. Hey everybody!” you greeted them. The men turned their heads, spoke, and waved their jovial greetings.

“I made Po’Boys!” Sam said with a grin.

You smiled back at him. “Save me one for lunch tomorrow.”

Sam frowned. “You don’t want one of my Po’Boys?”

Sam loved to cook, but he took great pride in his Po’Boys—particularly since the first time you tried one of his. You’d had some good ones where you were from, but they just didn’t have that Delacroix kick. More importantly, they weren’t made by Sam’s hands. Whenever he made some, you devoured them.

“I just want to lay down, Baby. Y’all enjoy your game. Don’t get too loud tonight.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the men responded, amused. Fully aware that an argument was going to break out despite their best efforts.

You took off your shoes and carried them up the stairs with you. It seemed like somebody had added 200 more steps to the case. By the time you made it to the top, the aches of the day settled into your joints.

You’d just sat on the bed to relieve some of the pain when you heard the stairs creak. Sam came rushing into the room, sending a quick adrenaline rush through you.

“What’s wrong?!” you asked, frightened by his sudden entry.

“You alright? Those Po’Boys are still nice and hot!” Sam said with a scrunched face.

You chuckled and shook your head. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m just too tired. I don’t even feel like eating. I just want to sleep.”

Sam sat on the bed beside you. Then, he placed his hand on your forehead.

“Sam…” you said with a giggle. You swatted his hand away.

“Are you pregnant?” he asked, eyes suddenly wide.

“Sam, baby, I’m just tired. Now, can you go downstairs and play your game?”

You stood up to start peeling out of your dress. Sam hadn’t moved and you could feel his silence. You glanced over your shoulder as you worked at the zipper.

“That’s what you wore to work today?” he asked.

“No, I hopped into a phone booth when I got off work and changed into it.”

You finally got the zipper down—your arms having been contorted to finish the job.

“I haven’t seen you wear it in a while…”

You tugged at the short sleeves of your red dress. You wore it intentionally. Your Mama was always telling you about the power of colors. Maybe the museum patrons would know you meant business seeing you in the color red—powerful, courageous, and vibrant. The only thing that was more tiring than walking around a museum in heels all day was having to prove your knowledge to condescending patrons.

“Keep it on,” Sam hastily commanded. “Just for a minute.”

You smirked at him and put your fists on your hips. “What do you want me to do? Just stand here?”

“You can,” he responded. The corner of his mouth lifted. “Or you can come back over here.”

You waved Sam off and filled the room with hearty laughter. “Boy, go on downstairs.”

Sam shook his head and rose from the bed as you pulled down your dress. Before he stepped out of the room, he gave you a kiss on the cheek.

“At least let me make you a cup of tea. Some of that chamomile. How does that sound?”

You placed your palms on Sam’s cheeks and kissed him on the lips. “I think I’d like that.”

Sam started toward the door again. He grabbed the knob and turned to face you once more.

“The staff at that museum had better be getting on their knees, thanking God every morning and every night. They hit the jackpot when they hired you.”

Your cheeks went warm and you pressed your lips together in a suddenly shy smile.

“Bye, Samuel,” you said playfully.

Sam winked at you and stepped out of the bedroom. You stripped out of all of your clothing and washed off the energy of your job in the shower. When you returned to the bedroom in your towel, a mug of steaming tea was on your nightstand...

…and a half of a Po’Boy on a small plate.

This was my first time writing for Sam Wilson! I hope you liked it!

[steves-on-a-plane]

Public Relations

Written for: @star-spangled-bingo​ 2021!  (& All Caps Flash Bingo!)     Words: 1563 All Caps Flash Square Filled: “That’s America’s Ass.” Pairing: Sam Wilson x Reader   Warnings: none Summary: Reader and Sam assigned to film some videos for the Avenger’s various social media accounts. This happens often and with the two friends spending so much time together, will thier friendship turn into something more?

Most of the Avengers treated PR and press events like a chore. It was just something you all had to do, but very rarely wanted to do. You understood why someone like Tony who’d practically grown up under the media’s microscope would feel that way, but you didn’t. Of course, you also didn’t consider yourself the “A Team.” What had started as a joke between you and Sam Wilson had begun to feel less so over the years. The A Team consisted of the six founding Avengers, everyone who came after that was the B Team.

While the A team was out saving the world, press junkets and creating an online presence often fell into the purview of the B Team. The media team did most of the heavy lifting. They managed everyone’s twitter, instagram and other social media accounts. You were still expected to contribute here and there but the major responsibly was in appearances.  They could be in person or otherwise.

“You know, with Spider kid and the wizard we’ve got almost enough people to start a C team.” Sam Wilson commented as he parked his car in the lot where you’d be filming for the day. You and Sam had been tasked with filming a few segments for the Avenger’s Youtube channel.

“Wilson, I think we’re the C team.” You sighed, getting out of the car.

“Why? Just because they’ve got the two of us coming down here to spend our whole Saturday filming videos like ‘What Type of Cat is Your Favorite Avenger’?” Sam laughed. “You’re looking at it all wrong, [Y/N]. People like us. That’s why we get pulled to do these things so often. They think we have real chemistry.”

“Well, we should. We’re good friends.” You said, heading into the studio.

“Right, friends.” He mumbled before following after you.

As the day went on you and Sam filmed several videos, some together and some separate. A few of the others drop by for an hour or so each just to add a bit of variety. You and Scott Lang filmed a cooking video together where the entire recipe was in French, a language neither of you spoke. The PR team assured you it would get laughs from the audience while showing that Avengers can do anything even if they’d never done it before. On one of your breaks, you watch Bucky and Sam film some type of trivia video that involved knife throwing.

At long last, the day was coming to an end you and Sam had just one video left to film together. It had been nice seeing some other faces around the studio, but you knew what Sam had said earlier was true. When looking at the numbers, videos with you or Sam typically performed better than videos with any other B Team Avengers. Videos with the two of you? They rivaled those of Steve or Tony.

“You doing okay, [Y/N]? That last video looked rough.” Sam asked when you slipped into the stool next to him.

“It’s a miracle nothing caught on fire.” You confessed. “I’m glad Bucky was there because I may have burned the whole studio to the ground on my own. You?”

“I’m ready to get this over with and get some dinner.” He told you.

“Always thinking about food, Wilson.” You smiled. Someone gave you and Sam the signal so that you knew the cameras were going to start rolling. Once filming began, the producer re-explained the concept of the video. You and Sam were going to be show photos of fellow Avengers and had to guess who was in the photo. It was a nice lighthearted video to go out on.

“So it’s like a weirdly specific game a Guess Who.” Sam summarized. “Okay let’s do this. The first photo was of an elbow. Immediately Sam started to laugh. “Now c’mon y’all! How am I supposed to know who that is?”

“It’s Clint.” You answered without hesitation.

“That’s correct. This elbow belongs to Clint Barton.” The producer agreed.

“How the heck?” Sam looked over to you with surprise.

“You can see bruises on his forearm from his recurve bow.” You pointed to the area of the photo where the bruise was barely visible.

“Okay, well I’m gonna need to step it up then. Next Picture.” He rubbed his hands together eagerly. The next photo was a zoomed in image of what looked like brunette hair.

“That’s Bucky!” You exclaimed. “I’d know those chestnut locks anywhere.”

“Do you have an answer sheet over there or something?” Sam questioned. He looked around the set, pretending to search for an answer sheet written somewhere.

“No, but we did just have lunch today so maybe he’s fresh on my mind. Tell you what I’ll let you get a head start on the next one.” You offered. The photo changed to someone’s backside. Almost immediately you recognized a pair of what could only be described as “dad khakis.” You knew that derriere could only belong to one Avenger. Sam took a few minutes to scrutinize the photo before looking to you.

“Go ahead.” He said impatiently. “I can see you biting your lip over there trying to hold back.”

“I-ah…” You realized he was right, you’d been biting your lip since the producer changed the image. “C’mon Sam, it’s an obvious one!” You gestured towards the photo trying to help him out.

“Obviously not!” Sam quipped.

“That is America’s Ass!” You said, leaping up of your stool. Sam began to laugh again. “Can’t you tell that’s Steve?”

“Well excuse me for not knowing what all of my co-workers butts look like!” He chuckled. The producer changed the photo again and announced it would be the last one. This time the photo was a close up of an eye. It was a beautiful eye with slight flecks of gold towards the edges. It was gorgeous, but it was ruining your perfect streak because you couldn’t identify who the eye belonged to.

“Cmon!” Sam was grinning widely now. “You don’t know whose eye that is?”

“Oh, and you do?” You raised an eyebrow at him and laughed. “You haven’t gotten one of these right yet!”

“As a matter of fact, I know exactly who those eyes belong to. Those stunning eyes belong to the equally as stunning [Y/N].” Sam answered confidently.

“Correct. [Y/N], those are your eyes.” The producer agreed. You and Sam wrapped up the video, by filming a quick outro. After getting all clear from producers, you and Sam were done for the day. You left the studio and walked back towards his car.

“You know it’s crazy how observant you are.” Sam commented. “I mean that thing about Clint, that wasn’t scripted right? Or did you actually notice that?”

“No of course it wasn’t scripted.” You answered. You’d reached his car by now. The two of you were talking to each other over the hood of his car. “But I mean I obviously wasn’t that observant. I didn’t recognize my own eyes. What an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot, you’re just not used to looking at your own eyes. Who is?” Sam shrugged from the other side of the vehicle.

“Are you saying that you knew those were my eyes because you’re used to staring at them?” You teased him.

“I been lost in them a time or two.” He confessed casually. You felt your cheeks flush at the compliment.

“I’m glad we got to spend the day together, Sam. Believe it or not, I look forward to our Saturday Studio dates.” You said before getting into the passenger’s seat of Sam’s car.

“You know,” Sam opened his driver’s side door and leaned into the car. “We could make it an official date. I’m thinking dinner and a movie?”

“A date with the oh so charming Sam Wilson?” You questioned in an old timey Southern Belle voice. “If I should be so lucky!”

“Alright, alright, it was just a suggestion.” He shook his head and climbed behind the steering wheel. “You don’t have to mock me.”

“Sam, I wasn’t trying to mock you.” You promised very seriously. “I’d love to go on a date with you.”

“You don’t have to pity me.” Sam said, a smirk already working its way onto his face as he back out of his parking spot. You reached over and put your left hand on his right knee.

“I’m not pitying you, but I am a little exhausted, so you’ll have to forgive me if this comes off as less than authentic. I’ve been hoping that you’d ask me on a date since Steve first introduced us. I even though about asking you out a few times, but then we started working together more and I didn’t want to jeopardize our friendship or make it awkward…”

“Awkward?” Sam repeated. “Impossible, we go together like Peanut butter and jelly!”

“I don’t like jelly.” You told him wrinkling up your face in disgust.

“What about Nutella? You like Nutella? Of course, you do, everybody does. We’ll be peanut butter and Nutella then.” He amended his statement.

“Mmm now I kind of want peanut butter and Nutella crepes.” You hummed, imagining the sweet flavorful pastry.

“Well, lucky for you, I know an amazing creperie on the other side of town. It’s a perfect place for our first date.” He decided.

[fiddlepickdouglas]

Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 9 - A Case

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, is it a lead?, 2k

@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Late the next morning, the guys stood with Julie’s family at the airport. Alex couldn’t believe that weeks of jamming together, writing music together, goofing around while Ray was filming, and dinners cooked by Julie’s aunt Victoria had all passed so quickly.

“It’s only another two months,” Julie was muttering to Luke, her eyes looking up into his with a special gentleness. Her hands gripped the top handle of her backpack with white knuckles.

“You’re gonna kill it out there,” Luke encouraged. The softness he applied was so different from what Alex usually saw, and he wasn’t looking forward to how miserable Luke was about to get in her absence. A painful thought told him it was probably similar to how he was at the moment, no matter how much he wanted to deny it. Having someone else reflect that wasn’t as nice as he thought it would be.

“Okay, kiddos, let’s get a photo!” Julie’s aunt was saying, shepherding them all together.

“Your mother asked me to take more pictures, so I’m taking all the pictures I can, sobrina,” Victoria came back.

“Tía,” Julie protested, rolling her eyes but smiling anyway.

Getting in formation, Alex positioned himself in the back by default, resting his arms on the shoulders of his bandmates while Julie, Flynn, and Carlos huddled together in front. After being uncomfortably squished into Reggie for a few seconds, he got blinded momentarily with the flash and was pretty sure he’d blinked. Then again, he was sure Bobby had been giving Reggie bunny ears, Luke was off balance, and Carlos had pulled a face, so it was likely that Flynn and Julie were the only ones who looked good in the photo.

“Ay, dios,” Victoria said afterward. “Your mamá is at least going to laugh a lot when she sees these.”

“I don’t know about the rest of y’all,” Flynn said, flipping her braids over her shoulder. “But I look amazing.”

Everyone chuckled and Ray picked up his carry-on.

“Alright, one last hug for everyone and then we’ve gotta board,” he said, pulling Carlos into his side. “You be good for your tía, alright?”

“Promise!” Carlos nodded with his typical grin.

Julie was already squished by Flynn and all the guys at once.

“Okay, before I get hugged to death,” she teased. They all let go of her. “I’ll miss you guys.”

“We’ll keep in touch, though, right?” Luke asked, his eyes wells of hope.

Julie looked up at him and smiled demurely.

“If you had a phone I could reach you with, then of course,” she told him.

“Yeah,” Luke muttered, pulling a Sharpie out of his back pocket. Alex smirked at seeing him be so prepared. Luke grabbed Julie’s hand and scribbled out a number, both chuckling lightly the whole time at how over the top he was being. “There, you’ve got my number.”

“Great,” Julie said with mixed awkwardness and amusement. “I’ll try not to wash my hands before I give you a call.” With that, she shouldered her bag and waved at them before joining Ray on the plane.

Bobby wrapped an arm around Luke’s shoulders and pivoted him so they could walk out of the terminal. Flynn and Victoria followed behind them while Carlos began running ahead of the boys.

“Don’t go too far, Carlos,” Victoria warned. “We don’t want to lose you.”

“You could still find me if you wanted!” he taunted, even though he made sure he remained in sight.

“He’s right,” Flynn smirked.

“Doesn’t matter,” Victoria said. “I’m taking a break while my sister needs support.”

Alex’s interest piqued at what he overheard.

“Wait, what do you mean?” he asked, pulling back from the rest of the group.

“I mean I’m putting my job on hold to help take care of my sister,” Victoria said, slightly confused at his question.

“Yeah, but what was your job?” he insisted, trying not to sound too intense about it.

“Oh,” she laughed. “I was on a team of investigators. We worked on missing person cases, mostly. But I’m taking a sabbatical.”

A mesh of things rushed into Alex’s mind and he wasn’t sure if he dared say them out loud. He had that strange feeling again, like he’d had when he first met Willie in the diner. That exhilaration.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Victoria told him casually. “If you’re wondering about Luke, his case is through a completely different department, and I can’t do anything for or against him.”

“No, it isn’t,” he started. “What if there was evidence of a really old case? What would it take to pick it back up?”

She blinked at him.

“Well, if it’s a strong enough lead, then it would be worth looking into,” she said. “Why, do you think you know something?”

“No,” he said finally. “Well, it’s probably nothing, just a funny coincidence.”

Reggie’s words from last night echoed: sometimes a kid is just a random kid. Other arguments surfaced. There hadn’t been anything to tip him off that Willie had gone missing as a kid, it was just a poster with the same first name. Why did he get so excited about it? He gripped the strap on his fanny pack.

Victoria looked at him with mild concern.

“Okay,” she said. “Like what?”

Looking at the guys, Carlos, and Flynn in the distance, Alex breathed in nervously.

“I actually saw a poster for someone, and usually I don’t pay attention, but it matched the description of someone that I met a few weeks ago.”

“You mean, when you were in Las Vegas?”

He nodded.

“I would have to see the whole case, and reopening old ones takes a little more work. But if you truly think you know something, Alex, this is a very serious matter and I would need as much information as you could give.” She looked at him firmly.

Alex was caught on all the thoughts swirling in his mind as they entered the parking garage. He felt himself begin shaking. Maybe he was jumping the gun?

“Well, like you said, you’re taking a sabbatical. And I’m still thinking it’s a coincidence, so, I’d hate to take your focus away from Rose.”

Victoria smiled politely, although her eyes didn’t reflect it.

“Well, I appreciate that,” she told him as she made towards where Carlos and Flynn were already waiting at her car. “If you change your mind, just let me know.”

A car horn from somewhere else was heard and Alex saw the guys all waving at him to join them in the van. Taking in a deep breath, he nodded to Victoria and ran over to join his bandmates.

“Dude, what are you doing talking to Julie’s aunt?” Luke wondered.

“Nothing,” Alex responded. “She just has a cool job and I wanted to know about it.”

“You know who else has a cool job, Alex?” Luke asked. “We do. We have the coolest job. Don’t get distracted.”

Alex buckled himself in as Bobby pulled out of the garage.

“I’m not, I swear!”

Reggie just patted him on the back with his goofy smile. Alex rolled his eyes, knowing the guys meant well. He could feel that all of them were trying to be normal around him, so he couldn’t blame them for their efforts. He knew he hadn’t been as easy to deal with lately. It wasn’t anything major, but something had gotten him acting more closed off from them, and he was balancing letting the guys be aware of it and trying not to burden them with it at the same time. Maybe that’s why he wanted to connect Willie to the missing kid. It probably had made him think he could get closure after everything that had happened on the trip. He didn’t want to accept the saying ‘what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.’

He couldn’t focus on that now, though. They had a few small gigs lined up and needed to get practicing. Opening for Julie had broadened their fanbase a little and things were going to change. Alex already didn’t handle change well. If he remained focused on something else, it was only going to make matters worse.

Later that night, they were just wrapping up practice in the garage. Bobby had popped a string on his guitar and ran into the house to grab a replacement.

“Alex, you were killing it, man!” Reggie was saying.

“Nah, I was just keeping it steady,” Alex shrugged.

“Seriously!” Reggie insisted. “You’re like the Energizer bunny! You know, always in pink, keeps us going, banging the drums - ”

“You should never make that comparison again,” Alex said, holding a hand up. “But alright, I was smoking, I’ll admit it.”

“Yeah,” Luke joined in. “Keep playing like that and you’ll be the next Neil Peart.”

Bobby reentered the garage.

“Hey, Alex,” he said. “You’ve got a phone call.”

All the guys, including Alex, looked confused. 

“Okay...guess I’ll go get that,” he said, heading into Bobby’s house.

Finding the phone attached to the wall outside the kitchen, Alex picked up the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Alex, it’s Victoria, Julie’s aunt,” he heard on the other line.

“Hi,” he answered, even more confused than before. “How did you know I would be here?”

“The number your friend gave my niece. She said that’s where you kids like to practice. I guess I called at the right time!”

He simply nodded in response, even though she couldn’t see it.

“Anyway, I wanted to know more about this person you saw.”

“Oh, okay.” He tried to remember as many details as he could while he gave them to her. He was pretty sure he could even remember the address for the hotel. Victoria just said ‘mmhmm’ in between everything, like she was writing it all down. It got Alex sort of excited, even though he remained bewildered that she was asking him for all of this information.

“Okay,” Victoria sighed after a few minutes. “I need to ask a favor of you boys.”

“Yeah, anything,” Alex said.

“Look after Carlos for a couple days? I can pay each of you.”

“Uh,” he blinked in surprise. “Yeah, cool, we can do that.”

“Perfect! And Alex, muchas gracias.”

“It’s nothing,” he said, glad to recognize at least one phrase in Spanish. “Thanks for calling.”

“No problem, kiddo. Ba-bye.” She hung up before him.

Alex slowly put the receiver back in place as he stood there processing. What had he just involved himself in? Julie’s aunt hadn’t exactly explained why she suddenly wanted to know everything about Willie. As he went back into the garage, he tried to calm his nerves.

“Well, who was it?” Luke asked as they all sat around waiting.

“Julie’s aunt,” Alex told them. “She wants us to watch Carlos for a couple of days.”

“Aw, yeah!” Reggie exclaimed, pumping his fists excitedly.

“Why didn’t she just tell me, then?” Bobby wondered.

“Because she wanted to finish the conversation that you guys so rudely interrupted before,” Alex said, only half-joking. 

Luke and Bobby shared a puzzled look, but let it slide.

“Did you tell her we have a gig in a couple days?” Luke asked.

Alex’s eyes widened.

“Oh, no, I forgot,” he said.

“He can just be our VIP,” Reggie stated, clearly unbothered about it.

“That works,” Alex said, gesturing to Reggie.

A cold realization hit him and he clenched his fist. He’d forgotten to mention more than their gig to Victoria: he also hadn’t told her about Willie’s amnesia.

Victoria looked down at the picture in her hand. It was familiar, since she had worked on that case when it first opened. One of the few that had gone unsolved in her department for a long time. She sincerely hoped she wasn’t about to make a mistake.

“So, where are you going?” Carlos asked as he chewed a mouthful of fries. They were sitting beside the wall of posters on the pier.

“I’m just checking on something,” she said vaguely. “If you want, I can bring back something for you.”

“A million dollars?”

She chuckled. “Unfortunately, I don’t think so.”

“Are you gonna be solving a case?” he queried.

Looking at the picture again, Victoria sighed and gave him a sympathetic smile. She knew he would want to help.

“I’m not sure, bendición,” she said. “But maybe.”

Checking the address she had written down and the map once again, Victoria stepped out of her car and into the hotel lobby. No one was at the front desk, so she rang the bell on the counter. A young man with dark curly hair appeared.

“Welcome to the Desert Oasis, how can I assist you?” he said cooly, and she recognized his Brazilian accent.

“Hi, I made a call this morning for a reservation? For a Victoria Mo- ”

“Ah, yes, I remember your call,” he interrupted. He looked up the room in his records and pulled out a key. “Your room will be on the second floor and then all the way down the hall to your right. Have a wonderful stay.”

“Thank you,” she said, taking the key, grabbing her one bag and heading up as fast as she could.

Hermana mía, por favor me perdones, she prayed silently in the elevator. If she was going to solve one case while she was supposed to be on sabbatical, it would be this one. She remembered searching high and low for this boy eight years ago and the devastation then. Rose would surely understand this, right? Victoria knew that if their positions were swapped, Rose wouldn’t be able to help doing something similar to help the people around her. It was just a family trait, she figured.

Getting situated inside the room, she pulled out the poster she’d pulled off the wall from the pier at Santa Monica and laid it on the table. Alex had called him Willie. She hoped they were the same.

[ctrlsznwrites]

SAVE ROOM FOR US

CHAPTER FOUR — IT'S PARTY TIME BITCHES! [ DRABBLE ]

about — the trip is now in full swing, fresh off the plane ready to party and enjoy the sun. well, it starts off that way but it wouldn’t be a party without someone getting into an altercation!

pairings — sam wilson x giselle browning[ oc ], sam x gamora

warnings — explicit language, drug, and alcohol usage.

authors note — this chapter sucks because it’s just a filler and because i realized t'challa didn’t really have a lot of interactions with giselle and i wanted to build that relationship. so i hope y’all enjoy it!

| PREVIOUS |

SERIES MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

Giselle shrieked happily getting out of the car Erik had rented at the airport. She looked around the compound that they had rented out for the week and a half vacation the group decided to take.

“You ready for a good time baby girl?” Erik asked, getting their bags from the trunk.

The two continued to make small talk as they got their bags making their way into the bigger house which is where they were staying. And Erik being Erik decided to make his presence known.

The two continued to make small talk as they got their bags making their way into the bigger house which is where they were staying. And Erik being Erik decided to make his presence known.

“YEERRR!” And soon followed T’Challa doing the same, making his way to greet the two.

Soon enough Nakia was greeting them as well, talking to the couple Giselle opened up her purse bringing out the itinerary Steve had given her a few days ago. She quickly skimmed through it looking for the room assignments.

“I figured out. the room assignments! I’m gonna set my stuff in my room and then put names on sticky notes and attach them to the doors. Or sound I let them fight it out like wild animals?: She questioned jokingly.

“I vote for them to fight it out.” T’Challa commented

Giselle giggled, grabbing Erik’s hand. “Come on, I’ll take you to your room.”

“I thought we were sharing a room?” Upon hearing this T’Challa and Nakia shared a look of knowing before snickering, going back into the kitchen.

Within the next 4 hours everyone had made it to the houses and put their stuff away, going off to do a multitude of things: cooking, drinking, and taking naps.

Giselle, Nakia and Val had been in the kitchen making drinks and helping T’Challa and Erik get the food together for their barbecue. The five of them chatted about what they could do tomorrow, when Steve and Sam walked in with their significant others.

Giselle smiled making her way to Steve giving him a quick hug and introducing herself to his girlfriend.

“Hi, I’m Giselle.” The two did a quick exchange of names and getting to know each other before she asked if Steve’s girlfriend -whose name is Mila- wanted a drink. She added and they made their way into the bar that was in the backyard and Giselle started making drinks.

The two walked around while Giselle introduced Mila to everyone, and things got a bit interesting when they got to Erik.

“And this is Eri, my b-“

“Boyfriend right?” Mila interrupted.

“Nah, I’m just the best friend.” Erik stated, smiling. Mila tried to apologize but they both told her it wasn’t necessary and that they got that a lot.

As the night went on, everyone enjoyed themselves. They ate, drank, and told stories about events that happened in their life. It was going perfect until Gamora made a slick comment about Giselle and Erik’s Instagram spree as of recently.

“Well, I noticed some people have been hanging out more since the last time we all lined up.” This caused Carol to side eye her rolling her eyes, Mila was sitting right next to Carol and noticed Carol’s actions which caused her to laugh.

“Why the fuck is she even taking right now?” Carol mumbled but not soft enough because Erik heard this which caused him to choke on his drink.

As soon as Erik caught his breath, he was ready to respond but Sam beat him to it.

“Mora, does it really matter? Just let it go and enjoy yourself, do you not remember the conversation we had before we left to come here?” He questioned sitting next to her, this caused her to put and take a sip of her drink.

“Oh, so now she knows how to be quiet, I’m honestly shocked!” Manti quipped. This comment caused Val to hit her leg. Giselle rolled her eyes at the two before getting up to get a drink and to get her phone off the charger in the kitchen.

When she saw she had a few texts, one from her mother, an unknown number and one from Sam. A surprised look to over ed face seeing his contact’s name on her home screen.

“What in the hell?”

“Yo, you good?” Giselle jumped looking up to see T’Challa daring at her worried. She nodded, setting her phone down, going to the fridge to grab a Mike’s, he watched her move around the kitchen, pouring herself a drink.

“I know you hear this a lot, but seriously I’m here if you need me. And let’s be real. I’m the only one here who can help you cope with this constructively.”

Sighing she agreed with him, making her way over to him giving him a hug. “I know, Challa. I know it’s just you were dealing with your own stuff, and I didn’t want to bother you.”

“That’s bullshit but I understand just shoot me a text if it ever gets to be too much. Or when you are ready to fight. Because the Giselle I know would never let anyone talk to her that reckless.”

“Okay, okay lay off a little bit. It’s just a weird territory to navigate especially with miss thang here. But do you think I’m getting under their skin with Erik?”

“Hell, yeah you are. Steve’s comments and tweets alone should’ve let you know how they feel. Especially ole girl she wasn’t sweating you until this vacation was around the corner. So just sit back, relax and watch the bullshit come and go.”

“Now, you know good and damn well I’m too petty to just watch it come and go.”

“I know but damn a nigga can dream!” She laughed, pushing him away making her way outside to join the group again.

| NEXT |

[amanda-teaches]

Almost Paradise

Summary: Dean finds himself looking at pictures of old loves. Will he ever be able to find that paradise again?

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Square filled: Feelings Accidentally Revealed for @spnfluffbingo​, Kissed to Keep Quiet for @spndeanbingo​ and “I’m sorry, did I step on your moment?” for @spnquotebingo​

Word Count: 1558

Warnings: A little angst and Dean beating up on himself, one swear word, the rest is fluffy confessions and stuff with just a hint of smut

A/N: This is for the incomparable @atc74​‘s Duets Reboot Challenge. I got Almost Paradise by Mike Reno and Ann Wilson, so you’re getting some romance today. I hope y’all enjoy!

He hadn’t meant to pull out the photos, didn’t even know why he still had them. Lisa was on top, of course, pictures of her and Ben, and the three of them together, but, underneath, there were others. Cassie, his first love, Robin, his first kiss, Jo...so many abandoned chances, lost futures. Futures lost because of him.

“Hey, Dean, you okay in there?”

He swallowed hard, shoving the pictures back into the box, which he hastily threw under the bed just as the door opened, silhouetting Y/N standing in the dim, hallway light.

He glanced down at the floor, quickly standing from where he was perched on the edge of the bed. “Uh, Y/N, yeah...what’s up?”

She studied him carefully for a second, eyebrows furrowing with unspoken questions. “Nothing. I just wanted to check on you. You seemed a little weird earlier.”

He cleared his throat, his eyes landing everywhere but hers. “I’m fine. Long day is all.”

She hesitated for a second, and he could tell without even looking that she didn’t believe him. “Okay. I’ll, uh, see you in the morning?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, not even bothering to wait for a response before turning his back on her. It wasn’t until he heard the door close behind him that he let out his breath, bending back down to pick up the box. He lifted the lid one last time, his hand falling on the one picture he hadn’t looked at yet, the one that had long-since become crinkled and worn from years of handling. 

Y/N.

Falling in love with her hadn’t been instantaneous. It wasn’t the lightning striking, all-incomposing realization he’d expected. It was a series of soft smiles, late nights, deep laughs, and tender hugs. It was bonding over shared interests and fighting over food preferences. It was a friendship that had grown into so much more, more than anything he’d ever experienced with any of the others.

He fingered the tears on the edges of the picture and let his finger roam, tracing her smile. It was from that day at the beach five years ago, her eyes squinting into the sunlight, her hair windswept all around her. He was pretty sure she’d never looked more radiant.

His smile at the memory quickly faded as it turned to sadness. Placing the picture back in the box, he pursed his lips, steeling himself once again. It was a fool’s dream to think he could ever have anything with Y/N. Whatever chance he’d had was long gone after everything they’d been through, everything he’d done. Friendship was all he could ever expect from her, and, if he really loved her, he’d have to accept that.

He sighed, and placed the cover back on the box, not noticing how the picture of Y/N fluttered out and landed on the floor as he stood up. Walking quickly to the chest of drawers, he put the box back in its place, in the past, where it belonged. He didn’t have any right to dream anything different.

I thought that dreams belonged to other men

'Cause each time I got close

They'd fall apart again

I feared my heart would beat in secrecy

I faced the nights alone

Oh, how could I have known

That all my life I only needed you?

When Y/N had volunteered to go pick up the laundry from his room the next morning, Dean hadn’t thought much of it. They often traded off the chores they did around the bunker, and he was pretty sure she’d do anything to get him on cooking duty. He knew she’d been angling for a full-on breakfast buffet for days. But, when she didn’t return to the library after 20 minutes, he started to get worried.

Putting down his coffee, he made his way towards the laundry room first, finding it empty. He backtracked to her room, but it was the same result there. A little ripple of fear ran through him, and he picked up the pace, practically running down the hallway to his room. When he got there, he threw open the door, his chest falling in relief when he found her sitting there, at the foot of his bed.

But, then he noticed what she was holding in her hand. The picture.

“Uh, hey, Y/N,” he started, clearing his throat when he felt the shakiness in his voice. “I thought you were grabbing the laundry.”

She looked up at him, uncertainty written all over her face. “Why do you have this? Isn’t this from years ago, that day at the…”

“The beach, yeah,” he confirmed, nodding his head, but, again, refusing to make eye contact. 

She wouldn’t let him. Standing up, she crossed the room in just a few steps, stopping right in front of him. “Dean, why do you have this crumpled up picture of me laying on the floor of your room?”

His mind went straight to any number of excuses, but then he looked into her eyes, her beautiful, vulnerable eyes, and he knew he could never lie to her. “It’s on the floor because I must’ve dropped it earlier. It’s crumpled, because…” He took a deep breath. No going back now. “Because, that’s how a picture gets when you look at it all the time.”

“You look at a picture of me all the time?” She looked back down at it, and he could see her brain working overtime to process the reality of what he’d just said.

Well, shit, may as well jump into the deep end now. “Yeah, I keep it in a box in my dresser with pictures of all of the women I’ve...loved.”

Her eyes shot up to his.

He just kept going. “But, I guess love isn’t really the right word, because I was never really in love with any of the others. I mean, I thought I was at the time or maybe I thought I could be, but I never really was, at least not the real thing, not like I feel for you.” He kept plunging ahead, unable to stop now that he’d finally gotten started. “And, I know you don’t feel the same way about me, but I'm in love with you, Y/N. Have been for years. I mean, obviously, this wasn’t how I wanted you to find out, not that I wanted you to at all, but, now that you know, I…”

His words were cut off by the touch of her lips to his, hesitant at first, but the second he began to respond, she leaned in, weaving her hands into his hair, her tongue sweeping into his mouth. He groaned and pulled her closer, his mind going blank in her arms. When she broke the kiss and leaned back, all he could do was stare at her, dumbfounded. “Was that? Wait, what just happened?”

She grinned. “Sorry, you were talking too much.”

“Talking too much…” he echoed, trailing off, still completely confused. She must’ve read it on his face, because she reached up and brushed her knuckles down the side of his face, leaning in for another kiss.

“I love you too, Dean.”

It seems like perfect love's so hard to find

I'd almost given up

You must have read my mind

And all these dreams I saved for a rainy day

They're finally coming true

I'll share them all with you

'Cause now we hold the future in our hand

And in your arms salvation's not so far away

It's getting closer

Closer every day

Dean tightened his arms around Y/N’s sleeping body, feeling her begin to stir. He inhaled, breathing her in, and dropped his lips to her neck, relishing the small moan that fell from her lips. “Mmm...mornin’, baby.”

“Good morning,” she said with a smile, turning lazily in his arms until they were face to face. “I like waking up in your arms.”

“And, I like you waking up in my arms,” he agreed, grinning as he leaned in to steal another kiss. “Damn, why haven’t we been doing this the whole time?”

She laughed. “Hm, I don’t know, maybe because you kept a picture of me in your underwear drawer for five years instead of just telling me how you felt?”

“Hey!” he shot back, feigning offense. “You never said anything either. Besides, I think I deserve some props for saying something now. You know, I had this whole dramatic speech thing going on.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I step on your moment? My poor baby.” She reached up and ran her fingers through his hair, softening the tease with a kiss to his chin that quickly turned passionate as it found its way to his mouth. His hands began to roam down her body, drawing a whine from deep within her. “Dean, please…”

“What’s the rush?” he drawled, slowing the movement of his hands as he maneuvered her until she was laying flat on her back, his weight propped up by his knee so that he was hovering above her. “We’ve got plenty of time, baby. In fact, I think we’ve pretty much got forever.” 

Almost paradise

We're knockin' on heaven's door

Almost paradise

How could we ask for more?

I swear that I can see forever in your eyes

Paradise

Forevers- @hamartiamacguffin​ @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester​ @katymacsupernatural​ @impandagrl​ @cyrilconnelly​ @impala-dreamer​ @castielhasthetardis​ @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes​ @be-amaziing​ @jalove-wecallhimdean​ @there-must-be-a-lock​ @mysterious-398​ @hannahindie​ @emoryhemsworth​ @ohmychuckitssamanddean​ @wi-deangirl77​ @carryonmywaywardcaptain​ @ericaprice2008​ @masksandtruths​ @roxyspearing​ @squirrel-moose-winchester​ @sweetpeamoose​ @babypieandwhiskey​ @deans-dirty-writer​ @roxy-davenport​ @heyitscam99​ @starry-chaos @spnbaby-67​ @mogaruke​ @atc74​ @dolphincliffs​ @closetspngirl​ @maddiepants​ @pinknerdpanda​ @focusonspn​ @deanwanddamons​

Dean Tags- @akshi8278​ @whimsicalrobots​ @dean-winchesters-bacon​ @adoptdontshoppets​ @alexwinchester23​

[brookecuzyes]

The Captain’s Kid —

E.2: The Star-Spangled Man (Part 2)

The Falcon and The Winter Soldier Fanfic

Main Masterlist — TCK Masterlist

Summary: We think of the after-life as a peaceful place. A place where there are no worries. When a girl comes back from the dead, so to speak, she has to find a new place in society— which ends up with her becoming a superhero. She’s been trained for the worst, but nothing could’ve prepared her for the things she was going to endure.

Word Count: ≈3.5k

Warnings: a little cursing, racial bias

———————————————————————-

Three knocks could’ve been a delivery. A whistle indicated a rebellious group. The door opened with a small creak. The person behind the door unlocked the lock which held chains together so no one could get in. The girl who knocked on the door, Karli, stepped back while the person opened it all of the way. She and her group walked into the building without a word, while the person looked around and closed the door, locking it immediately.

“You must be famished.”

“Very hungry,” one replied, everyone unanimously agreeing.

“Okay. My wife and I cooked. It’s an old family recipe made with the finest chicken livers. Please serve yourselves. Anything you want. Anything. You ask me.” The group walked over to a table that held containers of the dinner the couple had cooked. “There is some coffee here and some crackers. Uh, anything we can do for the cause. Please follow me.” He started walking and talking.

“You’re becoming a bit of a legend. I hear more and more people talk about the freedom fighters who are pushing back.” He turned to Karli. “They call you Robin Hood. Every day, more people love you. You’ll find refuge wherever you go.” He opened a door which led to a small room, letting everyone in.

“My wife and I made this just for you. Everything is completely clean. She made it nice and cozy.” The group was starting to settle in, saying their thank you’s to the man, when Karli’s phone went off.

You took what was mine.

I’m going to find you and kill you.

One guy walked over to the computers to see the news on them. “Shit,” he said. “They’re already looking for us. I’m wiping out aliases off any public traffic sites now.”

“Karli, we can’t stay here for long,” said Lennox, another one of the soldiers. “Six years ago, would you have imagined people supporting a cause like this?”

“We’re not playing no more,” she responded. “We can’t let the same assholes who were put back in power after The Blip win. The GRC cares more about the people who came back than the ones who never left. We got a glimpse of how things could be. I need to know that you’re all committed, because after tomorrow, there’s no going back.”

“Yeah,” said Matias, after a few seconds. “One world.”

“One people,” replied everyone else.

“One world.”

“One people.”

“One world!”

“One people!”

——

Back on the plane, Sam was laying across the seats, Alyxandria was leaned back in a chair with her head thrown back, and James was sitting on a small cargo box (the same box Alyx and Torres was using earlier) and was just staring off into space in deep thought.

Sam looked at James and noticed his face. “You all right?” he asked softly. After a moment, he responded quietly.

“Let’s take the shield. Let’s take the shield and do this ourselves.”

“We can’t just run up on the man, beat him up and take it,” Sam replied, sitting up. “You remember what happened the last time we stole it?”

“Maybe.”

“You stole the shield?” Alyx asked.

“Yeah. Seems like James forgot, though. Let me help you out: Sharon was branded enemy of the state, and Steve and I were on the run for two years.”

“Oh, shit,” she muttered.

“I don’t know about you,” Sam continued, “but I don’t wanna live the rest of my life la vida loca. We just had our asses handed to us by Super Soldiers, and we got nothing.”

“Not entirely true,” Bucky responded. He hopped off of the box and walked over to sit a few seats away from Sam. “There is someone that you should meet.”

In a few hours, they landed in Baltimore, Maryland. The trio was walking down the street— in the middle of the street— to get to this person's house. There were two kids sitting on the sidewalk and they were excited when they saw Sam

“Hey, it’s Black Falcon!” The kid exclaimed.

“It’s just Falcon, kid,” he replied.

“No, no. My daddy told me it’s Black Falcon.” Sam stopped walking to converse with this kid but James continued walking.

“Is it because I’m Black and I’m the Falcon?”

“Well, technically, I mean, yes.”

“So are you, like, Black kid?” The kid threw a look and his friend started laughing.

Sam chuckled. “I got him, right,” he said to the kid laughing. The other kid blew him off saying, “Whatever, man.” Sam couldn’t stop laughing.

He caught up with James and Alyxandria who were on the steps of the patio. James knocked on the metal door, and it made a loud rattling noise. A teenage boy opened the door and inspected the three.

“We’re here to see Isiah,” James said.

“Nobody named Isiah live here,” the kid replied. James sighed.

“Look, we just want to talk to him.”

“You must not hear what I just said. You ain’t getting in this house. Y’all can leave now.”

“Tell him the guy from the bar in Goyang is here. He’s gonna know what that means.”

The kid took a minute before responding back. “Alright, wait here.”

“Nice kid. How do you know this guy?” Sam asked after the teen closed the door.

“I used to. We had a skirmish during the Korean War.”

“I feel like this is more than some skirmish,” Alyxandria added. James looked at her as the door opened again. He just gave her his stare and started walking in. The three walked in together.

“Today’s your lucky day,” the boy said. “He said he wanna see for himself.” They didn’t say anything, until James started talking.

“Isiah?”

“Look at you,” Isiah said.

“This is, uh, Sam and Alyxandria. Sam and Alyx, this is Isiah. He was a hero,” James explained. “One of the ones that HYDRA feared the most. Like Steve. We met in ‘51.”

“If by met, you mean I whupped your ass, then, yeah. We heard whispers he was on the peninsula, but everyone they sent after him never came back. So, the U.S. military dropped me behind the line to go deal with him. I took half that metal arm in that fight in Goyang, but I see he’s managed to grow it back. I just wanted to see if he got the arm back. Or if he’d come to kill me.”

“I’m not a killer anymore,” James replied. Isiah looked at him like he was crazy.

“You think you can wake up one day and decide who you wanna be?” he asked. “It doesn’t work like that. Well, maybe it does for folks like you.”

“Isiah, the reason we’re here is because there’s more of you and me out there.” Said James.

“You and me,” Isiah repeated.

“And we need to know how.”

“I’m not gonna talk about it anymore,” Isiah said harshly. He picked up a small metal container and threw it. It got stuck in the wall and made a loud noise while doing so. The boy looked upset. Sam and Alyxandria were looking at the container in the wall, while James was looking at the ground. Isiah started walking up to him and started talking.

“You know what they did to me for being a hero?” He asked. “They put my ass in jail for 30 years. People running tests, taking my blood, coming into my cell. Even your people weren’t done with me.”

Sam looked upset, in a way. “Isiah,” he said, but was cut off by him.

“Get out of my house!” He yelled. James turned around to start leaving and Sam was still looking at Isiah. The boy came up to him and said, “Let’s go, man, let’s go.” Alyxandria followed behind James, not sure what to think about all of this.

Sam was walking quickly down the stairs.

“Sam,” James said, but Sam cut him off.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Isiah? How could nobody bring him up?” He was mad. Alyxandria hadn’t seen this side of him before. They all walked back to the street and were walking side-by-side. James didn’t respond.

“I asked you a question, Bucky,”

“I know.”

“Steve didn’t know about him?”

“He didn’t. I didn’t tell him.” They stopped walking. Sam and James were standing across from each other and Alyxandria was standing on either side— in the middle, almost.

“So you’re telling me that there was a Black Super Soldier decades ago and nobody knew about it?” James didn’t respond and just stared at him. A police car approached them and let their siren go off for a second. Everyone turned their attention to the car.

“Hey,” an officer said, getting out of his car.

“What’s up, man?” Sam asked. He still sounded pissed, and this wasn’t helping matters.

“Is there a problem here,” a second officer asked.

“No, we’re just talking.” Sam replied.

“There’s no problem,” Alyxandria said.

“We’re fine,” James added. The officers walked closer to the three.

“Can I see your ID?”

“I don’t have ID. Why?” Sam asked.

“Okay, sir, just calm down.”

“I am calm. What do you want? We’re just talking.”

“Just give him your ID so we can leave,” James said.

“James, no. What have we done?” She told him, siding with Sam.

“Thank you, Alyx. I’m not giving them shit. We’re just talking!”

“Hey, hey. Is he bothering you two?” The officer asked.

“What- no!” Alyxandria exclaimed.

“No, he’s not bothering me. Do you know who this is?” James said, harshly. The other officer went up to his partner and whispered, ‘Hey, these guys are Avengers.’ The officer looked at him and went wide-eyed.

“Oh, God, I am so sorry, Mr. Wilson,” he apologized. I didn’t recognize you without the goggles.” Sam looked disappointed. “I’m really, really sorry about this.” James gave the same disappointed look when another cop car pulled up. “Guys,” the officer sighed, “just wait here, okay?” He walked away back to his car, his partner following along.

“I didn’t… I didn’t tell anybody because he had already been through enough,” James said to Sam, finally answering his question. Sam and Alyxandria just looked at him. Sam was pissed, Alyx was silently observing the situation. Sam shook his head when the officer came back.

“Mr. Barnes,” he said. “There’s a warrant out for your arrest.”

“Look, the president pardoned him for all that,” Sam explained.

“Not for that. You missed your court-mandated therapy. It’s like missing a check-in with your PO.” James just sighed. He knew. “I’m sorry, Mr. Barnes, you’re under arrest.” James complied with the officers, letting them take him. Sam and Alyx watched as they put him in cuffs. Sam continued to stare at him and didn’t say a word as the car started driving off. Sam looked back at Isiah’s house before walking off. Alyxandria followed him.

“Hey, Sam,” she said. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He responded, keeping his eyes in front of him. Alyx turned her head away from him, catching the mood.

“Sorry, I’m just… pissed. That’s all,” he said after a moment. He stopped walking and put his hand on Alyx’s arm. “Don’t let me take it out on you.” She nodded and gave him a sad smile.

“Where are we going?” She asked.

“Getting Bucky. I don’t want to, but it’s the right thing to do.” Alyx chuckled at the statement, Sam too. They started walking again and Sam put his arm over Alyx. She rested her head on his shoulder, thinking about everything.

“Let’s not make this a regular thing,” Alyxandria suggested. Sam smiled and chuckled.

——

They arrived at the police department and sat down, waiting for James to be released, when someone came up to them.

“Sam and Alyxandria. I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Dr. Raynor. I’m James’ therapist,” Raynor introduced herself. The two sat up and Sam was the first to get up and shake her hand.

“So nice to meet you. Thank you for getting him out,” he said.

“That was not me,” she replied.

“Christina!” Someone called out. Sam and Alyxandria turned their heads to be met with John Walker. “It’s great to see you again.” Alyxandria groaned, putting her forehead on Sam’s shoulder— she didn’t want to look at the man.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Sam said. “You know him?”

“Yeah, we did some field ops back in the day,” she responded.

“I hear you were working with Bucky, so I thought I’d step in,” Walker explained. “Bucky’s not gonna be following a strict schedule any longer.” Alyxandria, by that point, had lifted up her head.

“We haven’t finished our work. Who authorized this?” Dr. Raynor asked.

“Um…” Walker said, then pointed at himself. A buzzer went off and a door opened. Alyxandria looked over and saw James walking out of the doorway. “He’s too valuable of an asset to have tied up. Just do whatever you got to do with him, then send him off to me. Got some unfinished business, him and I. You guys, too.” He walked away saying, “I’ll be outside.” Sam stared at him, and Alyxandria scoffed.

Unfinished business…

“James, condition of your release, session now. You too, Sam,” Raynor announced. She started walking to the corridor James walked out of.

“That’s okay, I’ll be out here with-“ he started, but was interrupted by Raynor.

“That wasn’t a request!”

“What about Alyx,” James asked.

“Rogers, you don’t have to come,” Dr. Raynor said.

“This isn’t fair,” Sam complained.

“It’s not my fault I’m the only functional one here,” she teased, turning around and walking out of the building. Sam glared at her before walking towards the corridor Raynor and James went through.

When Alyxandria walked outside, the first thought that crossed her mind was that she was going to sit out there for thirty or so minutes, waiting for the guys to finish their little therapy session. However, she was met with a different fate.

“Miss Rogers!” someone called out. She looked around and recognized two faces that she didn’t want to: John Walker and Lemar Hoskins. She reluctantly walked over to them, giving them a small smile.

“It’s Lieutenant Rogers, Captain,” she corrected, putting emphasis on ‘Captain’.

“My bad, didn’t know you were keeping the rank,” Walker responded, leaning up against the police car they were standing next to.

“Tell me a bit of what you got on these guys,” Alyxandria asked, stopping in front of the two.

——

“You guys are leaving me with no choice. It’s time for the soul-gazing exercise.”

“I like this better,” James said.

“Oh, God. He’s gonna love this,” Sam added. Their voices soon started overlapping each other, while the guys moved their chairs to face each other.

“You should really do this,” Sam said.

“I'm going to,” James responded matter-of-factly.

“Get close,” Raynor directed.

“This is a good exercise. Thanks, Doc,” James thanked.

“Alright, get close,” she said again. The guys scooted their chairs up, where their knees were touching. “Come on, a little closer.” They started to scoot up but stopped half-way.

“Which way you want to go?” James asked, moving his hand from left to right.

“Why’re your legs open?”

“Right or left?”

“You know what?” Sam said, moving his knee in between James’ legs. “Fine. Here. You happy now?” He pulled James’ chair closer to him. “We’re locked in.”

“That’s a little close,” James exclaimed.

“Very. That’s what you wanted, right?”

“Now, look at each other. You need to look at each other in the eyes.” Both guys started looking at each other. “There, you see? That wasn’t so hard.” The guys weren’t breaking eye contact. They weren’t blinking. Dr. Raynor caught on

“Wait, what’re you doing? Are you having a staring contest?” Sam’s eyes twitched a little bit. “Just blink,” she said, snapping her fingers together in between their faces, making them blink. “Sweet Jesus. Alright, James, why does Sam aggravate you?” James turned and smiled. “And don’t say something childish.” He hung his head and thought for a second.

“Why did you give up that shield?”

“Why are you making such a big deal out of something that has nothing to do with you?”

“Steve believed in you. He trusted you. He gave you that shield for a reason. That shield, that is… that is everything he stood for. That is his legacy. Alyx can tell you, she’d know. Steve was her dad. He gave you that shield, and you threw it away like it was nothing.”

“Shut up,” Sam replied.

“So maybe he was wrong about you. And if he was wrong about you, then he was wrong about me.” James’ voice trembled at the end. Sam just stared at him.

“You finished,” Sam asked. James replied with a quiet, ‘yeah.’ “All right, good. Maybe this is something you, Alyx, or Steve will never understand. But can you accept that I did what I thought was right? You know what, Doc? I don’t have time for this. We have some real serious shit going on. So, how about this; I will squash it right now. We go deal with that, and, when we’re done, we both can go on separate, long vacations, and never see each other again.”

“I like that,” James responded.

“Great. Well, let’s get to work. Thanks, Doc, for making it weird. I feel much better. I’ll see you two outside.” He finished, standing up and giving James a harsh pat on his shoulder.

“Thank you!” Dr. Raynor said. “That was… really great.” After Sam walked out the door, James got up from his chair and started towards the door before Raynor continued speaking.

“I know that look, what’s wrong?”

“What was rule number two, again?” He asked.

“Don’t hurt anyone.”

“Goodbye, Doc,” he replied, waking out of the room.

Sam and James walked out of the police department together in what started out in silence before Sam made a comment.

“Well, I feel better,” he said.

“I feel awful,” James replied when a siren and its lights went off. Sam and James looked over to see what was happening, and saw John Walker messing with the cop car. They saw Hoskins next to him, and Alyxandria leaning on the car next to John.

“Gentlemen!” Walker cakes out to the guys. They started walking over. “Good to see you again.” No words eeee said to him.

“Look,” he continued, “if we divide ourselves, we don’t stand a chance— you guys know that.”

“So, what do you got?” Sam asked. He stood in front of Walker, and James went over to the end of the hood to lean his arm against.

“Well, the leader’s name is Karli Morgenthau,” Alyxandria started.

“We’ve been targeting civilians who’ve been helping Karli move from place to place,” John said.

“They geotagged a location, then scrambled the signal,” Lemar explained. “But our satellites have found their symbol popping up in various displaced communities all across Central and Eastern Europe.”

“We think that she’s taking the medicine she just stole to one of these camps,” Walker finished off.

“Well, there are hundreds of those all over the planet since The Blip. So, I guess you’ll have to look real hard,” James taunted— at least, that’s how it came off.

“Good thing I have 20/20 vision, huh?” Walker shot back.

“Where is she now, Walker? Do you know?” James asked, raising his voice.

“No, we don’t know, Bucky,” Walker responded, also raising his voice. Alyx looked at him funnily. “But, it’s only a matter of time before we find out.”

“Things are really intense for you, aren’t they, Walker?” Alyxandria got off of the car and moved so she could face everyone.

“Take it easy,” Sam told him. “Look, Walker’s right. It is imperative that we find them and stop them. But you guys have rules of engagement, and all kinds of authorizations you have to get. We’re free agents. We’re more flexible. So it wouldn’t make sense for us to work with you.” Sam and James started walking off and Alyxandria took one last look at John and Lemar before following.

“A word of advice, then,” Walker said, stopping the trip for a second. “Stay the hell out of my way.” The two walked off dramatically. Sam, James, and Alyx were watching them leave, but turned back to go do their own thing.

“Asshole,” James mumbled under his breath.

“So, what are you thinking?” Sam asked James after walking for awhile.

“Well, I know what we gotta do,” he responded. “When Isiah said, “my people”…”

“Oh, don’t take that to heart. That’s not what he meant.”

“No, he meant HYDRA. HYDRA used to be my people,” James explained. Sam scoffed.

“Not a chance,” he said.

“Walker doesn’t have any leads.”

“I know where you’re going with this, no.”

“He knows all of HYDRA’s secrets. Don’t you remember Siberia?”

“So, you’re just gonna go sit in a room with this guy?” Sam asked.

“Yes,” James replied, hesitantly.

“Wait, what’s happening?” Alyxandria asked.

“We’re gonna pay a visit to someone,” Sam said, stopping on the sidewalk.

“Who?”

“We’re gonna go see Zemo.”

———————————————————————-6/25/21

[samingtonwilson]

Apartment 8C - Chapter 4

The First, First Date

SERIES MASTERLIST // PREVIOUS PART

Summary: college au. you and bucky are the closest of friends, the most functional of roommates, and… exes. but just because it didn’t work out romantically doesn’t mean he has to move out! it’s not like he’s so deeply in love that he can barely breathe. totally not in love. at all. not even a little. maybe.

Pairing: bucky x reader

Warnings: LANGUAGE, the use of marijuana/pot/weed/reefer/that loud

A/N: i had a bad thought while writing this chapter and i’m not going to share it with y’all because that might put y’all off this story. actually fuck it, i’ll share the thought. isn’t it so weird how obsessed we all are with love? like these are college students with so much more happening in their lives but they’re sitting around and always talking about love. and a lot of us do that shit too. weirdos. 

There’s a knock at the door and Bucky replies to it with a groan. A loud, I don’t give a fuck if the neighbors hear me kind of groan. 

Slumped on the couch, phone balanced on his stomach and remote control set on his thigh, he very nearly snarls. He doesn’t bother to pick up either electronic as he stands, letting his phone fall face down on the area rug while the remote knocks against its corner with a clang. 

His journey to the door is comprised less of steps and more of a slide, a glide, a bit of a skate. He’s thankful he kept his socks on and unlocks the door, eyes half-lidded and heavy head tilted back. “The delivery instructions said to text and leave the bag at the door, not to knock and make me get up.” 

“That how you talk to delivery people? They should ban your sorry ass from Doordash.” 

He straightens his head and glares at Steve— smirking, smug, smart ass Steve who holds a large brown paper bag in one hand and a six pack in the other. It somehow makes Bucky frown deeper. “You intercepted my delivery?” 

“And brought you beer,” he holds the cardboard case up and shakes it, smiling. 

That smile fades, however, when he pauses in thought for a moment. He frowns then, indignant. Pushes Bucky out of the way to cross the threshold into the apartment. “So, you know, you’re fuckin’ welcome, you ungrateful jerk.” 

A sigh and Bucky shuts the door. He watches as Steve appraises the room and feels no shame at the look of disgust on Steve’s face. Instead, he rolls his eyes when Steve fully faces him. “I don’t want to hear it.” 

“You clean out your fridge? It broken or something?” Steve asks. He sets the bag and beer onto the coffee table, shuts Bucky’s dead laptop that he hasn’t bothered to charge. Steve then places Bucky’s phone and the remote control on the couch and begins to gather the empty take out containers still cool from the refrigerator. 

Bucky grits his teeth at the sight. “Steve, just— What the hell are you doing?” 

“Picking all this shit up so we can eat and watch the game,” there’s a cheerful lilt through his words. He sends a smile Bucky’s way, humor in the blue of his eyes, as he passes to toss the containers into the trash. “Thanks for asking, Buck. What the hell are you doing?”  

“I—” Bucky still stands by the door. His arms are crossed over his chest, his brow furrowed in incredulity when Steve crosses to the couch once more and falls into the cushions with a sigh of relief. “Steve, I’m not in the mood today, man.” 

“In the mood for what?” The volume of the television is turned up, Steve hugs the elephant cushion to his chest. “You were gonna watch the game anyway, so was I. Might as well do that in the same place and eat a li’l somethin’ while we’re at it.” 

Bucky’s sigh is one of defeat. He takes steps back to the couch rather than skating over, and sits beside Steve with a mumbled, “I didn’t order anything with your fat head in mind.” 

Steve leans forward to pull the bag open, paper crinkling as he pulls a sandwich from the depths. He tosses what remains in the bag onto Bucky’s lap. “Stopped at a deli on the way here. Don’t know what the fuck you’re eating but it smelled like dog shit.” 

He smiles to himself. Wryly. “What deli you stop at?” 

“Shelsky's.” There’s pride in Steve’s voice. Arrogance in his posture. “I didn’t want to cheap out and settle for something worse.”

“That’s where I ordered from, you fucking snob.” 

“Must’ve ordered something nasty then.” 

A sarcastic hum of agreement and Bucky shakes his head. He narrows his eyes at the television as Steve flips through the channels in an attempt to find something more entertaining than the advertisements currently airing on Fox. “Why’re you really here?” 

“It’s Thursday night,” he replies, using a keychain to pop the cap on a bottle of beer. “Titans are playing the Jags.” 

“You don’t care about either of those teams.” 

Steve drops his smile now. He scowls and settles back on Fox, unsatisfied. “Can’t a guy eat a sandwich, drink a beer, and watch a game with a friend without the third degree?” 

“Couldn’t have done that with Sam?” 

“I do a variation of this with Sam almost every night. Wanted to spend time with you today.” 

“But—” 

“Buck, for shit’s sake, let me be here for you without making us both live through me saying why.” He reaches forward to pull another beer from the carton, placing it in Bucky’s lap, and slouches back against the soft grey velvet. “And if you wanna talk about it, I’m here for that, too.” 

“What’s there to talk about?” Bucky asks, more rhetorical than expecting an answer. 

There’s a pause as Bucky gazes at the television with practiced focus. His arms fold over his chest again. His knee bounces.

“She’s on a date,” he continues after the lull stretches for too long. “She was going to start dating eventually. I’m okay with it. Happy for her. T’Challa’s a good dude. Good looking, good soccer player. Smart. It’s nice. Good for her. I’m happy for her. She deserves someone like him. I’m happy for her. 

“He actually came to the door. Didn’t text her to meet him downstairs, didn’t show up empty-handed. We both know how uncomfortable she is with actual romantic gestures and I guess he knows, too, because he gave her a Ziploc of peaches like she had in class the day they met. It’s nice. He’s a good dude. I’m happy for her.”

Through the thick silence that falls over them, Steve blinks. “Christ, you know you just spoke for a minute straight without taking a breath? I think you said ‘I’m happy for her’ thirteen times.” 

Bucky’s inhale is loud and pointed, his exhale a huff. He’s no longer interested in eating the sandwich he’d ordered, suddenly full from all the leftovers he’d tucked into just minutes ago. All he wants is for Steve to leave. 

Well. That’s not all he wants. 

But it trumps his other desires. Momentarily. 

“I know you’re happy for her,” Steve says as Bucky parts his lips to tell the former off. Bucky shuts his mouth now, though. And just listens as Steve’s voice grows softer, eyes no longer dancing in humor. “But I know you’re fuckin’ miserable, too.” 

He knows there’s no point denying it. No point denying what’s so plainly written across his face. 

But he tries anyway. “M’not miserable. I’m ha—” 

“You can be both.” Steve, unwrapping the parchment from his sandwich, keeps his eyes on the television. “It’s possible to be happy for her but miserable at the idea of it all deep down. S’why I thought you might wanna move out.” 

“She’d still go on dates if I’d moved out.” 

“You wouldn’t have to watch her going on them.”

“I’m okay with her dating.”

“I’m okay with a lotta things, too. Doesn’t mean I wanna see it all happen in front of me.”

Bucky watches as Steve takes an impossibly large bite out of the sandwich, Russian dressing smearing over his lips. “I’ve got a date, too.” 

“Buck,” Steve’s mouth is full. Horribly so. And Bucky scowls at the sound of his thick voice. “This ain’t a date. Don’t know how many times I gotta tell you. I just don’t feel that way about you, man.” 

A sarcastic smile and even more dry laugh. “Shut the fuck up. I’m talking about Connie.” 

Steve scowls as he swallows. “That perky little brunette from the bar?” 

“Perky?” 

“I can just look at her and tell she was on her high school cheerleading squad.” Around another bite, he adds, “Seems nice enough, I guess.” 

“She is nice.” He pauses only to mumble more to himself, “And emotionally available.”

Steve cocks an eyebrow and briefly looks at Bucky in skepticism. “What, you determined that from just a few days of talking?” 

“On the second day she told me she’s liked me since freshman year orientation.” He sighs your name then. Slowly. Laboriously. “She was somethin’ else entirely. You know how long it took her to admit she liked me?” 

Steve nods upwards and flips the channel when the commentators on the pregame show begin to argue. 

“Took her three months after we started dating to admit she liked me. And she never said it again after that.” 

Steve drags the back of his hand over his lips, wiping off a bit of stray dressing. In visible disgust, he wipes his hand on the discarded butcher paper. “Some people show their feelings rather than say them.” 

Bucky seems to smile at that. Unbeknownst to himself, there’s a slow grin spreading over his lips. 

He thinks of instances. Instances when silence would act as a wall but actions a wrecking ball. 

The morning after your third date when you’d tried your best— despite your absolute inability to cook— to make the breakfast he always orders at the diner in Astoria. 

The eggs were runny in places, burnt in others and the bacon was traumatically floppy under a layer of not-even-close-to rendered fat and added oil. You’d apologized as he scrubbed the pan and plates, bright yellow dish rag waving as you insisted repeatedly that you couldn’t live if you’d given the guy you’d only just begun to date salmonella. 

Independence day when you’d Irish-goodbyed from Steve’s birthday party only twenty minutes after arriving to steal away to the rooftop of Mama Wilson’s brownstone in Harlem. 

You’d said something about fireworks and pizza, a six-pack of beer already snagged off the kitchen counter. Played it off as Sam’s idea, his house keys in the pocket of the navy blue bomber jacket you’d “borrowed” from Bucky. Nothing about Bucky’s hatred of parties at the Rogers-Wilson residence, though. Not even a hint until he overheard your apologies to Sam’s mother for the intrusion— an apology you later denied, kissing him silly to make him forget any further questions. 

The week before you’d broken up— a week Bucky remembers less for the distance you’d successfully created— when you sought comfort in him after a long day. 

Your boots had been kicked off by the door, your bag and its contents scattered beside them. You’d tearfully slurred words together, words he barely caught, in explanation. Something about work, and school, and your mother’s unnecessary opinions about your major and future. Something which forced sobs from your chest as you set your head against his. You’d wrapped your arms around him tightly, the two of you huddled together on his worn barcalounger as he stroked your hair and pressed kisses to the crown of your head. 

It’s well after the game has ended— Steve vengefully chowing down on your once-hidden stash of This is for when I have my period chocolate, Bucky barely paying attention to the episode of The Office the two had resorted to watching— when you come home. 

Hair mussed, lips swollen with gloss smudged every which way, you stumble through the doorway with a laughed, “No more rule-breaking on the first date, T’Challa.” 

The door is shut and locked just as T’Challa begins to respond. You spin and press your back to it, still laughing but quietly, more to yourself. You open your mouth to greet Steve and Bucky, both looking at you in either confusion or amusement, but shut it as a knock at the door cuts you off. 

“I’ll call you,” T’Challa promises through the wood. There’s a chuckle laced through his words, a smile in his voice. 

Exaggeratedly, you scoff. Still grinning however. “Who calls?” 

“I do,” he replies without concern that your neighbors may complain about his volume. “And you’re gonna pick up.” 

“Oh, am I?” 

“Yeah, you are. ‘Night.”

You don’t respond beyond a hum and stand at the door until you’re sure he’s gone. A nod to yourself and you step away as you remove that navy blue bomber jacket to toss it onto the counter. You also toss a smile over your shoulder to Bucky. “You here just to eat my chocolate, Rogers?” 

“No,” Steve says without a glance in your direction. “I ate your ice cream, too.” 

You shut the freezer. Empty-handed. Frowning. “Your stomach’s just a bottomless pit, huh?” 

“I’m a growing boy.” 

“Have I told you how uncomfortable it makes me when you call your grown-ass self a boy?” you remark, settling for a bottle of water from the refrigerator. You pause before shutting the heavy steel door. “You clear out all the leftovers, too?” 

Steve peers at Bucky, the latter stuck in a thoughtful, sad stare, and nods. “Yeah. We’re all out of food at my place and I don’t get paid ‘til tomorrow night.” 

You’re frowning in consideration as you walk to the barcalounger and fall into it sideways, legs swung over the opposite armrest you’ve set your back against. “Fair enough. How was your day, Buck?” 

The question breaks him from whatever daze he’d fallen into and he blinks. Averts a steady gaze when you shift a bit to look at him. “The Jags won.” 

You smile. It’s warm, a little honeyed. “Is that good or bad?” 

“Neutral.” He can’t help but smile himself. It doesn’t even falter as he asks, “How was your date?”

A shrug. Your eyes narrow at Michael Scott as he attempts to toss pizza dough. “T’Challa got a large popcorn at the movies.” 

“Damn, he’s got money.” 

You laugh, startled. Bucky grins when you do, too. “That’s what I said! I also beat your high score at pinball in the theater arcade.” 

“Went on a date with a guy who’s got money, beat my pinball score. You’ve just had a magical day, haven’t you?” 

There’s a softness and affection in the way Bucky speaks and looks at you, your responding giggles just as sweet. Steve, sitting between the two of you, almost feels as if he’s intruding on something, an empathetic ache in his chest as he watches. “Explain the pinball thing.” 

“Bucky and I went to the movies last month and fucked around the arcade while waiting for our showtime. And he got so competitive.” You roll your eyes at the memory. “We ended up missing the movie because he was determined to beat the high score this poor kid had just set when we got there. Took him hours and, like, forty bucks in tokens.” 

“It didn’t take me hours.” 

“We got there in the afternoon and by the time we left, the employees were cleaning the popcorn machines,” your expression and tone leave no room for argument. “Only took me two hours.” 

Steve looks between you two, fighting the urge to scoff at the satisfaction in your eyes and the combination of annoyance and so much adoration in Bucky’s. “Two hours? You miss the movie again?” 

“No, I snuck out before the movie ended. Said I had to pee and went straight to the machine so none of the kids in our auditorium could take it before I got there.” You ignore Steve’s disappointed gaze. “T’Challa was confused and probably unhappy I made him sit there for so long while I played.”

“Probably unhappy?” 

“I didn’t ask.” A nonchalant shrug and you flash them a knowing smile. “Beating Bucky’s score was my priority so I could come in here and casually mention it like I’m not bragging only to bring it up everyday for the rest of his life.” 

Your eyes meet Bucky’s and, at the look you’re giving him, Bucky has to remind himself that the two of you are no longer in a relationship and he can’t just kiss the arrogance away. “Sucker.”

—

It’s a makeup caboodle. 

Pale pink and lime green. A tropical flower sticker pasted to the clasp. There’s a ribbon tied to the handle— deep magenta velvet in a neat bow. 

It’s unassuming. A little innocent looking. Like it should belong to a seventh grader in the nineties just learning how to use glitter eyeshadow and lip balm palettes. 

It’s when you pop it open, the mirror attachment springing up only to reflect Wanda’s skeptical features, that the pungent smell permeates throughout the kitchen and small living room. Skunky, but a little floral. 

A speckled glass pipe, multicolored glaze splattered over a white base, sits in the top compartment alongside a few toothpicks and a package of rolling papers. In the compartment directly below rests a round steel grinder, three-tiered and emblazoned with the engravement of a manufacturer’s name. 

The biggest compartment holds many small glass jars. Tiny mason jars you’d bought at a flea market. All different colors, all labeled with white circular stickers. 

Wanda sits up in her stool at the sight, pulls the caboodle toward herself and sifts through the jars. She removes three of the jars and looks at you with widened eyes. “You’re insane.” 

You shrug and take the grinder when she hands it to you. “I like being organized.” 

“You should see her room,” Bucky says as he shuts his bedroom door behind him, shoes in hand. He smiles at the two of you, beard freshly trimmed to just barely above stubble and eyes a bright blue. “Most organized mess I’ve ever seen.”

You nod, tearing a bit of the sour diesel bud apart to place carefully between the metal teeth in the topmost chamber. You smile at her from your spot atop the counter, legs folded and back pressed against the shelves behind you. “There’s a method to my madness, Wan. Hand me a toothpick.” 

She complies and removes a blue jar without a label. “What’s in this one?” 

“Blue dream. Jar’s blue and I ran out of stickers.” There’s a click as the lid is magnetically snapped back onto the grinder. You twist it to the left twice, then to the right once. “You picking her up or meeting her there?” 

Bucky, leant against the wall as he slips his shoes on, looks up. “What says ‘This is a real date, not a hookup’?” 

“Going to dinner and not having sex after.” 

He replies with a dry laugh and narrowed eyes. “Which of the two options— picking her up or meeting there— says that?” 

“Picking her up.” You tear the stem off the bottom of the bud and place it as a barrier over the hole in the pipe’s bowl. “Might be too late to tell her that now, though.” 

“Already told her I’d pick her up. I was just making sure I did the right thing.” You see his lips spread into a self-satisfied smirk when you finish filling the bowl. “Looks like I did.” 

You smile back, though sarcastically. “Girls like a little humility in the guys they date, you know.” 

“She’s liked me for three years now,” he says. He pulls on a jacket and pats every pocket on him to make sure he’s got his wallet and keys. “She knows what she’s herself getting into.” 

“Bucky, baby, I live with you and I had no idea what I was getting myself into.” 

Wanda snorts a laugh at that, taking the pipe and a bright pink lighter from you. 

Bucky’s eyes fall into a glare. “So normal first dates don’t end in sex?” 

“No, they don’t. Most people actually wait until after the third date. It’s, like, in the dating manual for successful relationships.” 

“Huh,” he breathes. He takes his phone when you remove it from the charger to pass it to him, smiling up at you. “Looks like we were doomed from the start.”

“Maybe.” You watch as Wanda exhales a steady stream of opaque smoke punctuated by a soft cough. You slide her bottle of water to her. “Or maybe we’re the exception to the rule. Apart, we should follow normal date conventions. But together, we were too hot to wait that long.” 

Wanda hands you the pipe and lighter. “What happened to humility?” 

Before sparking the lighter, you answer, “I’m not dating a girl.” 

Your next inhale, once you’ve adequately charred the top layer of pot, burns in your throat and you hold it in your chest. You smile at Bucky when he shoots you a sly grin, lips in a cirlce as you exhale. “Have fun. Don’t order the tiramisu. They skimp on the espresso.” 

He nods once and straightens his jacket. You watch as he unlocks the door, opens it, and steps through with a simple wave. Your eyes remain on the door even after it shuts. 

It isn’t until Wanda’s fingers brush yours that you break your stare. “What?” the question is nearly barked when she offers you a look of something eerily similar pity. 

“Nothing! You just— You look a little lovelorn.”

Your features crumple. “Ew. No, I don’t. I look amazing, you look lovelorn.” 

“Okay, Queen of the land Defensiva,” she mutters once she’s exhaled. “I’m just saying. You were staring at that door like you want to take it home to meet your mother.” 

“Maybe I do. It’s a nice color. I picked the yellow out myself.” 

“Nat told me about that night at the bar. About how Bucky flirted with that Connie chick right in front of you.” She watches as you take a hit and your head lolls back against the shelves. “That must have sucked.” 

“It did.” You trace the bumps on the ceiling and sigh. “But it’s okay. Larger picture, broad scheme of things. It’s okay.” 

“What’s that mean?” 

A shrug. You take a sip from your own bottle of water. “We’re both okay. We’re both moving on, we’re still able to be friends and roommates. I can sit here and watch him go on dates with her if that’s what it takes. A little pain for the larger cause.” 

There’s a beat of silence as Wanda takes a long drag. You break it as you muse, “Do we talk about this shit too much?” 

“Yeah, maybe. Should we order a pizza?” 

--

CHAPTER 5: ARE YOU OVERCOMPENSATING?

[mermaidxatxheart]

Spies

Okay, I’m on the struggle bus big time. If you’ve sent me a request, rest assured I am working on them. I’ve had to return to work and I have all long days. Y’all are thirsty for TJ Maxx. We’ve never been so busy. Holy shit. Anyway. This request is for @nickmxller I hope I did what you asked for, love. 

Pairing: Sam X Reader

Word Count: 1643

Warnings: swearing, but not much else.

Summary: Bucky sees Sam with a girl and his interest is piqued.

The day is overcast, cloudy, rainy; a thunderstorm is rolling in. Most people are rushing through the city to find shelter, any kind of covering to protect them from the rain. 

 So, why is Sam Wilson walking along with no sense of urgency, whistling away as if it’s the nicest summer day?

 Bucky just can’t figure this guy out. But he does wish he’d hurry up just a little. Bucky’s freezing in this downpour. 

 The cafe is really more of a diner, purple vinyl seats, chrome countertops and all. He stops just inside the door and shakes off the rain before heading for a booth. 

 Bucky grumbles and stands back across the street, annoyed that he can’t follow his friend inside. He tries to fit under a small awning to watch what Sam is up to. He’s been sneaking around for months. Bucky can appreciate refining a skill set, but he’s not following anyone, not even acting sneaky, except for when he leaves the tower. 

He watches Sam approach an already occupied booth, the beautiful woman seated stands up to greet him, a smile on her lips as she presses a kiss to his cheek. When they sit down, she’s still holding his hand. 

 Bucky’s jaw falls slack as he realizes that Wilson has a girlfriend and hasn’t told anyone. And they’re supposed to be partners.

 He heads back to the tower, his brain working overtime. He knows the perfect person to help him get information. But Steve likes to pretend he has a moral high ground, and didn’t spend most of his childhood lying through those perfect teeth of his. So, Bucky isn’t certain Steve will help him spy. 

 Steve is sitting at his desk, frowning at a file. Bucky approaches, trying to fix his face into one of innocence. 

 “Hey, Stevie.” He starts. 

 And without even looking up to appreciate all the hard work Bucky put into the correct expression, he replies. “No. Not even a little bit.”

 “What?” Bucky frowns.

 “I’m not helping you with whatever idea you’re cooking up.”

 “You don’t even know what I was going to say!” Bucky protests. 

 “Sure I do. You were going to ask me to help you find out what Sam has been up to.” Steve crosses his arms. “Don’t you think you and I are a little old to be doing this, Buck? Just let the man have his privacy. We all deserve some.” He pushes himself up and takes the file. “Give the guy a break, Buck.” Steve says, clapping him on the shoulder and leaving his office. 

 “Yeah right.” Bucky rolls his eyes. 

 “I’ll help you.” A voice says behind him and Bucky turns slowly, his startled heart pounding in his chest. But on the outside, he shows no sign of it. 

 “Clint. I didn’t even see you there.” He mutters as Barton climb down off the top of the bookcase. 

 “Neither did Steve. See? I’m the perfect guy to help you.”

 “You’re down to spy on Sam?” Bucky asks uncertainly. 

 “Of course.”

 “Alright then.” 

 Sam

 There’s a knock on the door. It’s Sam’s room for all intents and purposes, even though he has his own apartment. He keeps clothes here, just in case, and for after missions for when he doesn’t want to go home covered in blood and guts. Or he sleeps here when a mission is too draining and he’s too exhausted to make the trek home. 

 Today, however, it’s the former. He has a date tonight and he doesn’t want to take the time to go all the way home to shower and change before meeting you for dinner. It’s easier to just shower here. 

 “F.R.I.D.A.Y. Who’s at the door?” Sam calls, buttoning up his shirt. 

 “Captain Rogers.” The AI replies evenly. 

 “Let him in.” The door clicks open and Sam sits on the end of the bed, pulling his boots on. 

 “Hey, Sam.” Steve greets, leaning against the door.

 “What’s up? You have your serious face on.”

 Steve chuckles and opens the folder in his hand. “You used all your vacation time.” He says.

 “Yeah. That’s what it’s there for.” Sam grins.

 “True. Will you be able to shift it around if an emergency pops up?”

 “Possibly. But don’t let any emergencies pop up and we’ll be good.” Sam says, straightening up and clapping Steve on the shoulder.

 “I’ll do my best.” Steve laughs. “There’s one more thing.” He starts and Sam frowns.

 “Which is?”

 “Bucky. He’s being nosy, asked me the other day about what you’re up to. I think he’s bored. Just watch out. I told him to mind his own business but he’s never been good at taking orders.”

 Sam raises an eyebrow at his friend and Steve rolls his eyes.

 “Yeah, yeah. Shut up.”

 “Thanks for the warning.” He nods and steps past Steve.

 ***

 He could feel Bucky’s eyes on him as he left the tower. Creeping, stalking. Sam could have just let it go. What did it matter? But this was a matter of pride. Bucky couldn’t be allowed to win. Not this one. So, Sam took a confusing, twisting route, losing his tail in the process. Now he could continue to you unhindered. 

 You open the door and he can’t help but stare at you. He never thought he’d meet anyone that makes his heart stop in his chest, or make him stammer like an idiot. And yet here you are. 

 “Sam? Are you okay? You look distracted.” You touch his hand and he follows you into your apartment. 

 “I’m being followed.” He sighs, deciding to tell you the truth. At least you’ll get a kick out of it.

 “Followed? By a criminal?” You ask worriedly. 

 “Well.” He tilts his head. “By Bucky. For someone who likes their privacy, he doesn’t give any to anyone else. I guess he tried to ask Steve to join him in spying on me.” 

 You sit down next to him. “And Steve said?” You prompt. 

 “Steve said no, and that I should be careful with how much vacation time I’m taking.”

 You roll your eyes. “Does Bucky know about me? Or is he just taking shots in the dark?”

 “I think he’s taking shots in the dark, but I can’t know for sure. And I can’t just go and ask him.”

 “Well, I think you should spy on him back. That way he’s following you following him following you.” 

 Sam tilts his head. “I think I followed all of that?”

 You grin. “You’re gonna do great.” You say confidently before getting up and going to the kitchen. 

 “Thanks. I think.”

 ***

 Bucky

 Clint perches himself up on a building, a perfect view of Stark Tower and the surrounding streets. He also has easy access to jump from one to another to follow his prey. 

 Bucky is on the ground, ear piece nestled in place as he follows the man. Samuel is walking easily through the crowds, not in a hurry, seeming almost happy. 

 Clint keeps him updated about Sam’s movement; a left, a right, another left, and then a right and a right and then a left before turning into a... parking garage?

 Where the hell is he going?

 Bucky follows silently, but Clint has lost visual and is no longer any help. He’s flying blind now. He searches the first floor before moving on to the second. The hair on the back of his neck stands on end. 

 He’s being watched. 

 His pulse quickens in anticipation, skin feeling alive with electricity. He turns around sharply coming face to face with Sam. He’s leaning against a column with ease and looking completely unsurprised that Bucky is there.

 “Hey, man.” Sam says with a smile. 

 “Fancy meeting you here.” Bucky tries and Sam chuckles.

 “What’re doing, Buck?”

 Bucky looks around. “I’m, uh, parking.” He shrugs.

 “Parking your car?” Sam asks, a grin tugging at his lips. 

 “Yup.”

 “Bucky.” Sam says, sounding very amused.

 “Sam.” Bucky replies.

 “You don’t have a car.” Sam reminds him and Bucky curses. 

 “You’re sneaking around and being weird!” Bucky accuses. 

 “If you wanted to meet my girlfriend, all you had to do was ask, man.” Sam sighs, rubbing his face. 

 “How did you even know?”

 “I only look like an idiot. C’mon, Bucky. You and Clint can come to dinner.” He says.

 “Wait, how did you know about Barton?” Bucky asks, frowning.

 “He fell asleep in the air vent the other day, started snoring. Kind of obvious.” Sam lifts a shoulder. He turns and starts walking out of the parking garage, not waiting to see if Bucky would follow. 

 Presumptuous bastard. 

 Bucky follows with a grumble and as they exit the structure, Barton drops next to him. “We’re being fed?” He asks happily.

 “Good job being stealth. You fell asleep in the vents! How does that happen?”

 “They’re comfortable. Good place for a nap.” Clint says unashamedly. 

 “You’re an old man.” Bucky shakes his head. 

 They both follow Sam a couple more blocks to an apartment building. He takes them up a couple floors before knocking on a door.

 “You don’t have a key yet? That’s a bad sign.” Clint mutters. 

 The door opens to reveal the girl Bucky had seen before. Her eyes light up when she sees Sam, even though she had probably been expecting him. 

 “I see that didn’t take long.” She says, flicking her eyes towards us. 

 “Piece of cake.” He says, scooping her up and kissing her for an uncomfortably long time.

 “You boys hungry?” She asks when they finally pull away. She lets them in and Bucky sees the table is already set for four people. 

 He was set up. 

 He looks at Sam’s girlfriend and she’s smiling at him, an easy, friendly smile. “I’m Y/N.” She offers her hand. 

 “Well played, Y/N.” Bucky says, shaking her hand. 

 This will be fun.

 Everything Tag List

@everythingisoverrated​ @psyched2b​ @shreddedparchment​ @bitsandbobsandstuff​ @after-avenging-hours​ @alexblrus​ @thinkingsofamadwoman​ @i-dont-want-to-be-called​ @thefridgeismybestie​ @fortheloveofallthatsholy​ @crazychaotic​ @pleasureoftheguiltiestvariety​ @redstarstan​ @justreadingfics​ @themistsofmyavalon​ @sebastianstanslefteyebrow​ @wkemeup​ @thiccbinch​ @glide-thru​ @elliee1497​ @ellaenchanted91​ @part-time-patronus​ @janeyboo​ @scarlettwitcher​ @thirstybitchqueen​ @xxloki81xx​ @stuckonjbbarnes​ @browngirlmagic​ @geeksareunique​ @nicoleplacee​ @lexshead​ @gambitsqueen​ @sebbbystaaan​ @lokisironthrone​ @imanuglywombat​ @also-fangirlinsweden​ @ravenesque​

[hms-chill]

RWRB Study Guide: Chapter 4

Hi y’all! I’m going through Casey McQuiston’s Red, White & Royal Blue and defining/explaining references! Feel free to follow along, or block the tag #rwrbStudyGuide if you’re not interested!

The Willard (75): A luxury hotel just down the street from the White House, where rooms can cost up to $8,000 per night. It hosts the turkeys to be pardoned by the president.

Cornbread and Stuffing (75): Traditional Thanksgiving dishes. Pardoning turkeys are commonly named after foods associated with Thanksgiving, recently including Bread, Butter, Cheese, and Apple.

Pennsylvania Avenue (75): The street that the White House and Willard are on.

Until I pardon them (75): The pardoning of the turkeys is an actual American tradition. Americans began sending turkeys to the president around the same time we started celebrating Thanksgiving, and the tradition of pardoning them began with Clinton in 1999. Only one turkey is officially pardoned, but there is always a backup turkey, and you can read their names here. 

En suite (76): A bathroom directly connected to a bedroom.

CNN (76): Cable News Network, a liberal news station.

Republican primary debate (76): A debate between candidates for the Republican (conservative) party, held before the party decides who they will nominate for the presidential race.

Summer home in Majorca (79): Majorca is an island in the Mediterranean, just off the coast of Spain.

Jurassic Park* (79): A movie in which dinosaurs escape from their cages and the main characters have to escape them.

Autoerotic asphyxiation (80): “erotic asphyxiation” is essentially sexual choking; if it’s “autoerotic” it would be Alex doing it to himself.

Silk pillow over my face (80): This may be a reference to the Shakespeare play Othello where (spoilers, though it’s been out for like 500 years) the title character smothers his wife with a pillow after rumors that she’s cheating on him.

Jaffa cakes (80): A British snack with a sponge cake base, a layer of orange jam, and topped with chocolate.

Jabba (81): Jabba the Hutt, a Star Wars character.

Great British Bake Off (81): A famously wholesome baking show that is technically a competition between home bakers from around the UK, though it is far from competitive.

Scandinavian skin care (81): Many luxury skincare brands have come from Scandinavian countries in the past few years.

Chopped (82): An incredibly competitive American cooking show.

The Manson tapes (82): A series of tapes revealing the dealings of the Manson Cult, which was responsible for nine murders in 1969.

David Bowie (82): A famously bisexual British actor and musician known for his bold presentation and stagecraft. He was admitted to the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in 1996. (listen here and here)

Seinfeld (82): An American sitcom from the 1990s. Wayne Knight, who played Dennis Nedry and had a very bad time in Jurassic Park, was also in Seinfeld.

Jeff Goldblum (82): An American actor (and force of chaos) known for his role as Dr. Ian Malcolm in Jurassic Park, a scientist who sees from the very beginning that maybe breeding massive predators is a bad idea.

The Post (84): The Washington Post

Oval Office (84): The president’s office in the White House

Lincoln Bedroom (85): A guest bedroom that is part of the Lincoln Suite in the White House, named after President Lincoln, who used to room as an office.

Chocolate shop on the first floor (85): According to the White House Museum online, there is a chocolate shop on the bottom floor of the White House that prepares the chocolates served in the White house.

The Atlantic (85): An American editorial magazine that covers news, politics, education, science, and more. It targets serious readers and “thought leaders”. (More)

Truman Balcony (85): A balcony overlooking the White House’s South Lawn (in the “back” of the White House).

Mijo (85): For those who haven’t read my fic “Speaking My Language” here, “mijo” is Spanish term of endearment that translates directly to “my son” (Mi hijo)

Washington monument (86): A tall obelisk on the National Mall in Washington, DC, dedicated to George Washington.

Eisenhower Building (86): The Eisenhower Executive Offices Building is a building that houses the executive Office of the President, including the Vice President’s office.

Los Bastardos (86): Spanish for “The bastards”.

Caldillo (86): a spicy Mexican beef stew.

Masa (86): A corn/maize dough used for making corn tortillas, tamales, and other Mexican/Latin American dishes.

Valedictorian (87): A student who ranks the highest in their graduating class in high school.

New Orleans (87): A city in Louisiana known for its vibrant blend of French and Creole culture, its jazz scene, and its Mardi Gras celebration. It is also Casey McQuinston’s hometown.

AP classes (90): Advanced placement classes are high school classes taught at a college level; at the end of the year, students take a test to determine whether or not they will get college credit for it.

Hanukkah (90): A Jewish celebration honoring the second rededicating of the temple in Jerusalem. It is not traditionally a major Jewish holiday, but it has become one of the best-known due to the fact that it occurs near Christmas every year. 

“Good King Wenceslas” (91): A traditional Christmas song about a king who braves the cold to give alms to a poor peasant on Christmas.

Jim-jams (91): Pajamas.

Tiger sharks over a baby seal (91): According to my roommate, who loves sharks, tiger sharks are one of the most vicious types of sharks. They’re bottom feeders, so they wouldn’t necessarily get seals too often, but if they got one, they would be all over it.

Bougie (95): Fancy or upper class (from the French “bourgeoisie”).

Real Housewife (95): The Real Housewives of [City] are a string of semi-popular American reality TV shows.

East Room (95): An event and reception room in the White House.

Tramp stamp (96): A tattoo on the lower back, associated with less savory activities and a general air of trashiness.

Zac Posen (97): A gay, Jewish fashion designer from New York, known for his glamorous evening gowns and cocktail dresses.

Middle-shelf whiskey (97): A “middle shelf” alcohol is one step up from the cheapest option; a whiskey is a dark alcohol associated with Texas/the West.

“American Girl” (98): A 1976 rock song that has become a rock classic. (Listen here)

Center for American Progress (98): A liberal public policy research and advocacy organization.

Pez (candy) (99): A type of small, sweet pieces of candy that come from fancy, collectable Pez dispensers.

Sky writers (99): Sky writers use the trails of their airplanes to write things in the sky. It costs at least $3,500 for a single message.

“Get Low” (101): Despite its incredibly raunchy lyrics, this song was a common one at school dances in the early 2010s. I was in middle school in roughly 2010-2012, and I have vivid memories of people being into this song.

The Kid ‘n Play (102): A dance move pioneered by the hip-hop duo of the same name, loosely based on the Charleston. (see it here)

Vato (102): Mexican slang for “friend”, “person”, or “dude”. 

Moët & Chandon (102): A luxury French champagne.

New Year’s Kiss (103): At least in the US, it’s traditionally considered good luck to kiss someone at the stroke of midnight on New Year’s.

Peach schnapps (103): Schnapps is a sweet, inexpensive, and very alcoholic drink.

Rookie NFL running back (103): A running back is a football position responsible for running with the ball. Most are either short and quick to avoid tackles or big and stocky to power through them.

Yacht kid (104): Someone rich.

Orion**(105): A winter northern hemisphere constellation of a hunter/warrior. According to Greek mythology, Orion was the only man (or person) the goddess Artemis ever loved, but she refused to give up her life with her huntresses for him. He began burning/destroying her forest in retribution, and she is forced to kill him.

America’s golden boy (105): A “golden boy” is a boy who is favored or put upon a pedestal. 

Tequila (106): A type of alcohol that originates from central Mexico.

Bloke (106): British slang for a “regular dude” or everyday man.

Teen Vogue (106): An American magazine aimed at teenagers that used to focus on fashion and celebrity news, but has more recently shifted to dealing with serious social issues.

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*This movie is especially known for its special effects, which are incredible because they actually built animatronic dinosaurs and also got real scientists on the project to help them figure out how dinosaurs would move/act. After it came out, earth and environmental science departments around the world got a ton of funding to see if they could find any dinosaur DNA in fossils, as that’s a central part of the movie’s plot.

**According to a nerd astronomy class I took in like 4th grade, every culture who could see Orion saw a warrior, which is just... really cool to me. That so many people for so long saw the same thing in a set of stars.

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If there’s anything I missed or that you’d like more on, please let me know! And if you’d like to/are able, please consider buying me a ko-fi? I know not everyone can, and that’s fine, but these things take a lot of time/work and I’d really appreciate it! A massive thanks to @lyanna-wilson for the ko-fis the other day; they meant a ton!

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Chapter 1 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 5 

[an-unknown-writers-world]

I Smell Snow

Day Ten: Snowstorm

Part of @panicfob​ 25 Days of Christmas Challenge

Warnings: Fluff, a bit of angst, a curse word or two,

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (First person, nameless)

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson

Word Count: 1793

A/N: Ten days – has it really been that long? Wow, thank you again to all of you have read this, either from the beginning or just jumping in. Snow is my favorite thing and I loved this prompt. If you have missed any previous writings, you can find them here – Masterlist.

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I stood at the stove while I waited for the chicken broth to come back to a boil, hand made pasta was drying on the counter next to me. This morning when I was out for a run, I got the idea to make homemade chicken noodle soup. Growing up my mom would make it every year for the first snow, and her mom did the same. There was no way to explain it, a person either knows what snow smells like or they don’t, and this morning on my run I smelt snow.

“It smells amazing in here,” Bucky observed coming into the kitchen. “Are those homemade noodles?” His eyes lit up when he made it to my side.

“Mmhmm, it was my grandma’s recipe.” I smiled at him.

He bent down to kiss me. “I can’t wait to taste it.”

“Oh, it’s not for you.” I joked.

“You’re awful sassy today,” He smiled heading to the fridge.

“I had a good run and it’s gonna snow.”

“Doll, we watched the news last night. The weatherman said bitterly cold and dry.” He mocked the forecaster.

“Snow is coming and a lot of it.” I beamed. “I can smell it,” I replied certain in my answer.

“Um, sweetheart, I don’t want to hurt your feelings. But as a super-soldier with enhanced everything, I can say with absolute certainty you cannot smell snow.”

“Wanna make a bet?”

Bucky looked at me clearly hesitant, “What do you want?”

“You already know what I want.”

He sighed heavily, “And if I win?”

“Whatever you want,” I replied.

“I guess I’ll have to think about that.”

“You do that, but it won’t matter. There will be snow on the ground before we go to bed.”

“Barnes, let’s go,” Sam called from the other room.

This piqued my interest, “where are you going?”

“Just over to the gym, we’re gonna spar.”

“That’s a fantastic idea,” I responded sarcastically. “Go easy on him.”

“I will.” He kissed me cheek before disappearing.

Stirring the pot, it still hadn’t returned to boil which was normal for this large of a pot. I grabbed the tea kettle from the stove and filled it to make a cup of tea. Waiting for either of them to boil, I sat at the kitchen island with my book and read.

Things around the compound were going well, the boys seemed to be getting along and Bucky and I had fallen into a natural routine, the comfort level between us was as if we had been together for years. Our relationship was a combination of an old married couple and hormonal teenagers; one minute we could be sitting on the couch and the next, be in compromising situations kissing until we were breathless. Sam would come into the living room, groan and leave most of the time.

Nights were the worst and each one seemed to end the same way. It started in the late afternoons, we’d have dinner together, then watch a movie or binge watch something on Netflix or Disney + and end it with late-night local news; spending hours cuddled up on the couch and oftentimes whatever was on in the background was ignored in favor of heavy make-out sessions. Sometimes one of us would fall asleep, it was usually me something about his super-soldier body heat and the way our bodies molded together made me so comfortable it was hard to stay awake. No matter what we did, the night would end, and we would go to our separate rooms.

It took another hour for the water to boil and the noodles cook all the way through, the biggest downfall of homemade pasta – it took longer to cook. It didn’t help that my grandma’s recipe was big enough to feed a small army. I pulled the pot off the stove and put it on the cooling stand, I could hear the chatter between Bucky and Sam in the hallway.

“That smells so good,” Sam commented walking in.

“I’m not sharing,” Bucky replied, pushing him playfully.

“She could feed a small country,”

“I prefer army,” I replied. “I can use an army for my will, not so much with a country.”

“If you brainwash them you can,” Sam said grabbing a bowl.

Bucky grumbled.

“You’re gonna wanna wait on that Sam. I just pulled it off and it’s been boiling for forty-five minutes.”

“I’ll be fine,” Sam replied with a shrug.

“Suit yourself.”

Bucky pulled a water bottle from the fridge before turning back to me. “Aren’t you proud, I brought him back in one piece?”

I laughed, “Very proud.”

“Now you know I can go easy,” He smiled, “when are you going to spar with me?”

“Let me think about this,” I tapped my chin, “Probably four days past never.”

He laughed, “never say never.”

“Ouch!” Sam shouted, “That’s fucking hot.”

Bucky and I both laughed.

“I tried to tell you,” I said.

“I know what I want when I win.” Bucky declared.

“Weren’t you just outside?” I asked, “It’s gonna snow. But, just in case, what do you want?”

“Spar with me.”

I thought it was a terrible idea, I had never been a field agent for many reasons, but my clumsiness and fragility were huge pieces of that. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Bucky, I did, with my life; I didn’t trust myself.

“Okay,” I replied.

He leaned forward and kissed me.

“Y’all seriously gotta get a room.” Sam groaned.

I couldn’t help but laugh, we did need to get a room but one of us was still very hesitant. It was stupid really; you’d think that I was trying to steal Bucky’s virtue. In all reality, I just wanted to sleep next to him, wake up to wrapped in his arms. I craved him in the simplest ways, but I understood his fears and concerns. He had night terrors like most soldiers, sometimes they were violent, and he woke up out of sorts. When we would talk about staying together, Bucky would voice his concerns about the night terrors and follow it up with a joking statement about not being able to control himself. The conversation without fail would end with Bucky kissing me senseless.

“We should The Mandalorian tonight,” Sam said leaning with his back to the counter, his steaming bowl abandoned next to him.

“Um, someone’s gonna have to explain it all to me,” I said. “The only thing I know about it is from all the baby Yoda memes I’ve seen.”

“There’s a baby Yoda?” Bucky grinned.

“Uh, where have you been?” Sam asked sarcastically.

“Not on social media.”

“Fair, he doesn’t see memes unless I show them to him.” I looked over at Bucky who showed no obvious signs of objection. “Everyone change and meet in the theater room in five?”

Both the boys nodded, and we all headed to our separate rooms to change. I changed into my cozy fleece red and black plaid sweats and pulled on a blank tank top. Passing by Bucky’s door I nocked not waiting for a response before opening the door. He looked up at me with a smile standing in his black sweats and white V-neck t-shirt. It was my favorite combination; I couldn’t explain why it just did something for me.

“Are you here to steal my clothes again?”

“Do you really have to ask?” I smiled.

“You could just keep it.”

“No, then it wouldn’t smell like you.”

He laughed, “You’re about to lay on the couch with me and you need my shirt for the smell?”

“No, it’s warm too.” I shrugged, “And since you refuse to sleep with me it’ll be a nice preheat of the shirt to keep me through the night.” I grabbed the shirt from his drawer.

He shook his head, “You make me sound like an awful person.”

“Not awful,” I smiled pulling on his shirt. “Come on, Sam’s waiting.”

Bucky took my hand and led me down the hall. We made it down the stairs and into the foyer, I looked out the window to the side of the door in a typical quick glance and continued walking. Then it registered what I saw, I stopped and pulled away from Bucky to skip to the door. I threw it open with a grin that split ear to ear, cold crisp air rushed in with the fresh smell of snow.

“Damn it,” Bucky mumbled. “How do you smell snow?”

“It’s beautiful,”

He came to stand behind me, arms wrapped around my front, kissing the crook of my neck.

“It’s cold, doll. I know it’s beautiful, but we can see it with the door closed.”

“Is the winter soldier complaining about the winter?” I joked.

He laughed; it was a musical noise in my ear.

The snow was coming down hard, there had to be at least three inches on the ground already, I was disappointed in myself for missing it on the way upstairs.

“Holy crap,” Sam said coming down the stairs. “Guess that explains the message I got from Maria.”

“What’s going on?” Bucky asked, turning to look at him.

“City of New York just issued a Blizzard Warning.”

“So why did she text you?” I asked closing the door.

“Making sure we were all home safe.”

I nodded, “I should check on Pepper, she was talking about going out to the cabin sometime this week.”

“Wrong time of year for that cabin,” Sam stated.

“It needed to be closed up for the winter,” Bucky explained.

I headed to the kitchen and found my phone shooting her a quick text. Bucky and Sam both joined me and dished up the soup that had finally cooled enough to eat. I won the bet, but I wouldn’t rub it in just yet. Bucky knew what was coming, there was no sense in giving him more anxiety about it.

Pepper text me back quickly letting me know she and Morgan were home safe she had gotten to busy to make it to the cabin. She sent a picture of Morgan staring out the window at the snow, she looked as mesmerized as I usually am.  

“Babe, Pepper asked if we could try and make it to the cabin for her this week. Just need to close things up and winter prep for it.” I said looking up from my phone.

“I don’t see why not. Obviously, we have to wait for the roads to clear up.”

I nodded, “Thank you.”

“Okay,” Sam grumbled, “this snow is not ruining my night. Let’s go.” Sam started out of the kitchen.

“Think he’d notice if we didn’t follow?” Bucky asked.

“Yes, he would.” I laughed, “We should make a blanket fort!”