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losers-clvb · 10 days ago

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i love you, i'm sorry // sam winchester

pairing: sam winchester x bobby's daughter!reader

summary: a teenaged sam left you broken. now he's back and you're not sure what to do.

content: angst, some swearing but it's not overdone, heartache, both reader and sam are in the wrong in a way (but mostly sam), reader is bobby's daughter, big brother figure dean winchester, reader has confusion over her feelings

word count: 4k

note: this was going to be one long fic, but i felt it would be better as two parts seeing how the total word count is nearing 11k. the second part will be out this week and will have smut. the title is from "i love you, i'm sorry" by gracie abrams, but no direct inspiration was taken from the song. i interchange the use of "your father" and "bobby" but keep in mind they are intended to be the same person. enjoy!

masterlist part two

----

It had been years since the Winchester boys had come to stay with the Singers. Life, or hunting more like, had gotten in the way. They knew they had somewhere to come home to, or at least that was what you and Bobby had hoped. Bobby was your father, and you his little girl, no matter how old you got. He hadn’t wanted to be a father growing up, but once he held you in his arms, he knew you had him wrapped around your finger. It had been only months after you were born that your mother died, killed by your father in a desperate attempt to keep you safe. He had begun a life of hunting after that. He knew he needed to find some way for all of this pain to make sense. Somewhere along the way, he had met John and, in turn, Sam and Dean.

You had been sandwiched in between the boys for what seemed like all your life. They were your honorary family, though your relationship with Sam had blossomed into something more. It had been your sixteenth birthday - Sam was 17 - when he had gotten you alone to give you your gift. It was small, just a necklace that he had found at a convenience store on the way to Bobby’s, but you still wore it everyday. Your response to this gift was, naturally, to kiss him. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t thought of doing it before, you just never had the chance to. His response was, naturally, to kiss you back like you were his lifeline.

A whirlwind romance, hidden from your father and Dean, ensued until he had run away to college. Somehow him leaving had meant leaving everything, even you, behind. You had cared, of course, but you couldn’t tell anyone. You cried every night for days. Bobby had noticed something was off. He always noticed when his girl wasn’t herself. He tried to cheer you up with those dad jokes he had been using on you since you were born. He tried chocolates and flowers and every little trinket he saw that reminded him of you. Nothing worked. You had pulled yourself out of the spell of heartbreak at some point. You knew it was silly to cry over a boy. Even if that boy was the love of your life.

Life had been normal for a while. John and Dean would visit once in a while for dinner or lunch. Your heart leaped every time the door opened, hoping Sam would come through it. He never did. You helped Bobby research and sorted papers. You cooked meals and baked desserts, humming while you did so, which pulled at Bobby’s heartstrings in a bittersweet kind of way. You were starting to consider looking for someone else to spend the rest of your life with, someone who could make you feel even half of what you felt for Sam.

Then he appeared in your life again. There he was, standing in the entryway of your house with a shaggy haircut and those puppy dog eyes that hadn’t changed in the five years since you had last seen him.

You knew he had begun hunting again. How could you not? Dean called what seemed like every day to ask for help with a case. You had been happy to help like always until you caught the low sound of a second male voice in the background. You promptly hung the phone up. From that day forward, you waited until your dad confirmed that it was anyone but the Winchester boys calling. Both Bobby and Dean had questioned you, but you knew better than to tell them the true reason for it. You just hoped you would never have to face Sam again.

But here he was. Your hands, holding a stack of books you were returning to their correct home, trembled when he said your name. You could feel tingling in your fingertips, a sure sign you were about to cry. Neither of you moved, as if your feet were cemented to the floor. You both stared at each other, eyes locked and waiting for the other to make the first move.

“Sam, get in here.” The sound of your dad’s voice from his study cured you of your paralysis. Before Sam could get another word in, you dashed to your room. The slam of the door was heard through the house, startling Dean and Bobby.

“What the hell was that?” Dean barked out. When Sam had responded with your name, the looks of confusion on the two men in front of him deepened.

“Why?” Bobby asked, eyeing Sam like he had done something to you. And he had. It just wasn’t something that he had done recently.

“I don’t know.” Sam breathed out. He knew. Of course he knew. How could he not, when for the first two years of college he had spent every night wanting to call you and apologize. He knew he hurt you. He knew he was still in love with you, just as he had been many years before. He also knew that some part of you still loved him. The necklace. The glinting metal was the first thing his eyes caught when he had entered the house. You still wore the necklace he had given you. The sight of it made his heart reach for you.

----

You hadn’t made an appearance for lunch or dinner. You had locked yourself up in your room, only letting your dad inside when he had knocked softly. You made up something about feeling sick. He hadn’t believed you, but knew if you needed something you would go to him. He left your room after giving you a kiss on the forehead.

That had been hours ago. The moonlight shone through your window while you listened with attentive ears to try to decide if it was safe to venture downstairs for some food. The three men had called it a night around 45 minutes ago, and you hoped they were fast sleepers.

Five minutes of pure silence passed before you dared to try to leave. You had changed into your pajamas, a light purple tank top and matching shorts, and your socked feet were quiet on the hardwood flooring. You tiptoed down the stairs, gripping onto the railing.

Once making a sandwich, you took the food to the table to eat. You were quiet with your chewing, stopping occasionally when you heard the noises of the house settling. You were alone, yes, but you needed the time. Your eyes drooped low as you ate, fighting the sleep your brain needed after the emotional day. You had finished eating when you told yourself you could just close your eyes for a few seconds before getting up.

----

Sam had decided, after hours of tossing and turning in an attempt to sleep, that he had to see you. He had to apologize, had to make things right. He had crept up to your door, knocking in the chance that you were awake at that time of night. When you hadn’t answered, he had poked his head inside. He just needed to know you were there, but your empty bed made him stop. You were gone. Not in your room, which meant either you had fallen asleep elsewhere or something had taken you. He hoped for the former, though there was a small chance of the latter. A quick search had led him to the kitchen where you were slumped on the table, eyes closed and breath steady. There you were. The sight pulled a somber sigh from Sam. An image of you from earlier flashed across his mind. Your panicked expression, trembling hands, and wide eyes. You had obviously not been expecting to see him, though he had thought that Bobby would have told you before his arrival.

Sam walked to you, careful to make sure his footsteps were as quiet as possible. He didn’t want to leave you sleeping on the table. It wasn’t right and he knew that you would have regretted it in the morning. So, he scooped you up in his arms and carried you to your room. You seemed to curl into him in your sleep, much like you had all those years ago when he would sneak to your room at night.

The weightlessness of being carried woke you. At first, you believed you were dreaming. Then, the scent of coffee and cedar brought your eyes open. Sam. Sam Winchester was carrying you up the stairs and into your room. Your heartbeat quickened, panicking. What would you say to him? Thank you? Go away? What would he say to you? It was when Sam readjusted his hold on you that you had decided to just pretend you were still sleeping. He was the same as you remembered. The smell, the warmth, the careful but secure hold. All of it was the same.

You felt yourself being lowered onto what you presumed to be your bed. It was the same full sized bed you had since you were a kid. You knew your bed. The chill of night air was swept away by the weight of your blankets. Sam was tucking you in. He was taking the time and effort to tuck you into your bed. You felt a calloused hand brushed hair away from your forehead.

“I’m sorry.”

The words made your heart ache. You felt the honesty in them. It didn’t make what he did any less painful, but it made you remember why you had decided to internally forgive him only a year after he had left. His hand lingered on the side of your head for a few moments before he left you to sleep.

----

The morning came and you woke to the sound of birds chirping. Though you couldn't have gotten more than a few hours of sleep all together, you pulled yourself out of bed to make breakfast for the house. If you didn't do it, Bobby would and it would end up being overcooked scrambled eggs with slightly burnt toast. As you went about getting yourself ready for the day, you couldn't help but think of the last night. Sam, he smelled the same, held the same warmth. Even the way he handled you, like you were his everything, was the same.

The house was quiet. Too quiet. Usually, your dad would be awake and brewing a pot of coffee by this time. Though, he also put himself to bed earlier than he had the night before, so that could account for his absence. You figured someone would have been up by now. Preferably Dean to make your new found mission of ignoring Sam’s presence easier. You had decided this while brushing your teeth. You couldn’t hide away forever. You also couldn’t talk to him without choking on your own words. This was the better option.

While you began the simple breakfast of pancakes and bacon, you hummed to yourself. It was a habit you seemed to have picked up sometime in your teen years. The first few times you had caught your dad watching you with sad eyes, he had refused to tell you why he was so affected by the sound. You pestered him for months, yet the truth only came to light when a long time friend of his had come to visit. He had been sitting at the table while reading a newspaper when the words slipped out.

“You sound just like your mama.” The sentence made you stop in your tracks. The topic of your mother rarely came up between you and Bobby. You knew only the few stories he had let slip through on special occasions and the scraps of memories you could pull from his old friends. You had never told your father about the new information. Instead, you opted to continue on, knowing that the grief he felt initially was outweighed by the love for you having something in common with the mother you had never known.

The sound of footsteps pushed you back into reality. You kept your attention on the food you were making, assuming it would be Bobby finally making an appearance. That was until a figure in a worn down long sleeve and jeans slid into your line of sight. Sam. You tensed up yet continued your cooking. You could feel his eyes on you, flickering between your hands and your face. You both stayed like that for what felt like forever. No words, just Sam watching as you tried not to look at him.

That was until he said your name. He was trying to get you to look at him, to acknowledge he was there. You refused to give in. He didn't deserve your time. You hated him. Well, you didn't actually hate him, though you were sure you should. If you told yourself that you hated him enough times, maybe it would make that love for him go away. He said your name again, this time a bit louder with more effort.

“Please. Just look at me.” Sam was practically begging now. You flexed your jaw as you piled the last pancakes onto the large stack. You scooped up the plates of pancakes and bacon, delivering them to the middle of the dining table. Sam followed you around like a lost puppy, huffing out an irritated breath when you continued to ignore him. He just wanted you to turn your attention to him. He needed to say that he was sorry, needed to explain everything, and he needed to do it while he could get you alone. You just wouldn’t listen. He knew it was you trying to keep your pride, but it didn’t stop the instant frustration from bubbling up.

“I need to explain why I,” he breathed out, “why I did what I did.” Sam’s words were met with a scoff from you. You had moved past sad long ago and the panic you felt last night was simply because you felt like you were being cornered. Now you were angry. You pushed past Sam and grabbed a stack of plates and forks. The coffee you had started in the middle of your cooking had finally finished. You grabbed a mug and moved towards the pot, but Sam beat you to it. He made up a cup of coffee, two sugars and a splash of milk, before offering it to you. Of course he would remember how you liked your coffee. You stared at the cup for a moment before declining the peace offering by pouring coffee in the mug you held. You made it the same, but hoped the message got through to him: you were not interested in being friends.

“Seriously?” Sam asked incredulously. He was about to continue ranting when he heard a whistling growing closer. Bobby entered the kitchen with a smile, oblivious to what he had walked into.

“Morning.” Bobby greeted the two of you. He sat himself at the table, his usual spot that was worn down from years of occupancy. You followed his lead and sat in the chair next to him with a warm smile. Sam, obviously still upset from his failed attempt to speak to you, hadn’t moved from his spot at the counter. Dean, who had been like a bloodhound when he caught a scent of the food, entered the room cheerily. He poured his own coffee before sitting in the chair on your other side.

“Sammy, stop pouting and sit.” Dean ordered while piling pancakes and bacon onto his plate.

“Bring that pot over with ya.” Bobby added. Sam sighed as he did as he was told, grabbing a mug for Bobby on the way over. He took the last chair available. Unfortunately for you it was the one opposite from you. This meant a meal of avoiding catching his eyes with yours while Bobby and Dean spoke of their plans for the day.

----

You should probably apologize to the officer on the other end of the phone. She had called, courtesy of some hunter who needed the assistance, to verify that the FBI had actually been sent to investigate a crime. They hadn’t, of course, but the fact that it was a possible werewolf had led to a hunter being sent. When she questioned your authority, which you had none of but that wasn’t for her to know, you took out your pent up aggravation from Sam on her.

After the line clicked, signaling the end of the call, you swallowed harshly. It wasn’t fair. Why was Sam allowed to waltz back into your life right when you were beginning to move on? Why was he allowed to come and go as he pleased, yet you couldn’t stand to look him in the eyes? You let yourself sink into the office chair that was near the phones.

“What was all that about, sweetheart?” Dean. Of course he would come sniffing around for something to talk about. Your father and Sam had gone into town for something you failed to remember now. You looked up at him and narrowed your eyes at him.

“It was nothing.” You replied, not wanting to get into it all with him. Like your father, he didn’t know about you and Sam’s love affair. Or maybe he did. You couldn’t keep track of what Sam may or may not have said to him, but you knew that you had been silent about the whole thing. It was easier that way, not having to explain exactly what you were feeling.

“Is this about Sam?” Dean continued to push you. The words threw you off. You furrowed your eyebrows.

“What? He told you?” You weren’t angry about it. Well, maybe a little, but that had more to do with the fact that the relationship had been important enough to tell his brother about yet not important enough to keep alive. The spark in Dean’s eyes when you spoke told you that Sam had, in fact, not told him, but you just did. You looked away with burning cheeks.

“What’d he do? Try to get in your pants? Beat up your boyfriend?” Dean was teasing you now. He wanted the details. Despite what he may argue if ever asked, Dean Winchester was one of the biggest gossips you knew.

“No.” Your voice told Dean that you were angry about whatever it was, and you were on the verge of ranting about it.

“C’mon, sweetie, just tell big brother.” The words made you shoot him an annoyed but playful glare. There were many times growing up when Dean had played the big brother you never had. Somehow, you had never picked up on the bond with Sam. Now you kind of wished you had. It would have been much easier than this mess. You took in a breath before speaking.

“He left me.” You told the green eyed man. It was Dean’s turn to scrunch his eyebrows together in question.

“Yeah, join the club. What about it?”

“He kissed me. He called me every night when he wasn’t here. He made me laugh and blush and talked about a future. He told me he loved me. Then he left and I hadn’t heard his voice since.” Your words fell out of your mouth before you could stop them. You watched as Dean’s expression softened.

“Oh.” It was rare for Dean to be speechless but he didn’t know what else to say. He had picked up on something between the two of you when you were teens, but he figured it was just some good old fashioned mutual pining. He couldn’t have imagined Sam would be able to keep something like this from him.

You stood from the chair, certain that you could take a break from watching the phones that rarely rang. Dean stepped into the doorway to stop you from completely leaving the room.

“Listen, you can’t cry over him anymore. He’s not worth it.” Dean spoke, trying his best to console you. You were past that. You didn’t need comfort, you needed anger management.

“I hate him.” You looked into Dean’s eyes and he could see the defiant fire burning in them. He sighed and nodded.

“That works too, I guess.”

----

It was getting harder to ignore Sam. Not because you were tempted to have a conversation with him. You wanted to scream at him if anything. No, it was because your dad was too oblivious to the obvious discomfort between you two and kept assigning tasks for you and Sam to complete. Dean tried his best to replace you when this happened, but eventually Bobby gave him his own chores to complete.

You bounded out the door to your car. Sam followed you, grumbling to himself when you threw the door back into him. You waited for him to climb into the car with a blank expression on your face. The run to the store would hopefully be a quick one with no conversation. The silent drive lasted all of three minutes.

“Are you going to ignore me forever?” Sam asked, a mix of desperation and frustration in his voice. You kept your eyes on the road. The store was coming up soon. You just had to hold out until then.

“It’s my fault. Everything. All of it. Please… just… hear me out.” Apparently Sam no longer needed your direct attention to begin his apologizing. Your grip on the steering wheel tightened, but you still didn’t speak.

“It’s not an excuse, but,” Sam breathed in as if he was weighing the next words in his mind.

“I was going through a lot.” You were parking when you heard him. Thank God you were, because your immediate reaction was to turn your whole body to him. His eyes widened at the fury in your eyes.

“What about me? I was seventeen, dealing with stupid high schoolers and cranky hunters. All I looked forward to was you! I loved you and you decided I wasn’t even worth a call? Bullshit. All of it.” Maybe you were being mean. You knew what John Winchester was like. You had overheard enough phone calls between him and Bobby, had heard some stories from Sam and Dean. You understood his running from his father, but Sam could have at least called once. Or wrote a letter. Or sent a postcard. Anything but leave you in the dark.

Your words made his heart ache. He hated himself for never calling you. Hated himself for hurting you. For anything he had ever done to make you think he felt anything less than love towards you. He had no excuse for why he had done what he had done. His only line of defense against your anger was to respond to it with his own.

“And I was eighteen and running from a life of killing! I hated hunting. I hated my father. You know that! I never called because I needed to completely cut myself off from this world. I needed a normal life.” Sam wasn’t being completely fair. He knew that. His response was a weak attempt at trying to diminish the guilt he felt. Yes, he wanted a normal life. But look how that worked out. All that pain he had caused just to come back to what he was running from. You shook your head and opened your door.

“Fuck you Sam.” The anger seethed through you as you climbed out and made for the entrance of the grocery store. You had missed the way Sam’s own anger had broken with your final words. You had missed the way he physically shrank down. You had missed the way he followed you as he had earlier, but this time with less motivation. He wanted you to come back to him. He had never seen you so angry before. He missed the girl who would place light kisses on the tip of his nose, the one who would let him hold her all night long.

#x reader #sam winchester #spn #dean winchester #supernatural x reader #sam winchester fic #sam winchester x reader #supernatural #sam winchester smut #sam winchester x reader angst #sam winchester x reader smut #sam winchester x bobby's daughter!reader

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sage-green-matcha · 1 year ago

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Hi, doll!

Sorry to disturb you, but I had an idea for a request if that's okay! 💖

So, ethan landry x reader who was involved in the woodsboro massacre in 2022, and moved to nyc as anika's roommate, and ethan had an obsession with her and when they eventually get together, she stays at his and finds a gf mask, knife and costume in his closet, and she confronts him. You can choose the ending!

Sorry if I disturbed you, I love your writing 💗💗

FRIEND - ETHAN LANDRY 🫧

“And I hate the way you love me and I hate that I still care. Funny how you feel like we would ever talk again, how could you think I'd be your friend?” - Gracie Abrams

Content includes: gf!Ethan, Betrayal, angst, Halloween party! Mentions of blood!

A/n: I was listening to this song and realized how well it matched with this request! This is a bit fast paced so I’m sorry! I didn’t want it to be too long 😭🫶

"Anika! What are you wearing to the Halloween party?" Your voice echoed through the walkway of your dorm, Anika peeking out of the bathroom.

"A pumpkin!"

You cringed as you looked at the basic, green cheerleader outfit laid on your bed. You just sighed, slipping the tight green set over your body.

You rarely went to parties, but Chad insisted he had someone he wanted you to meet. He didn't leave you alone until you finally said yes.

And you knew he'd show up at your door with the rando if you didn't show up.

"Is it giving the girl from murder party?" You asked as Anika peeked in your door, watching you apply a bold color to your lips.

"Yeah! Just make yourself a zombie"

As soon as you got to the house everyone went their separate ways. Your lipstick rubbed on the side of your red cup, smooth liquor running down your throat.

"Y/n! Hey!" Tara slipped her arm under you, balancing herself on your body.

"Well, you're fucked" You chuckled under your breath. She just shook her head, readjusting her bandana.

"Is Sam here?" You should've known better than to ask a dumb question like that. Sam would never be caught at a house party, especially not after what happened last year.

"No, never" She poured herself a shot, pulling away from you before she waved, walking away with a smile.

You wandered around the house for a while, mostly trying to find the bathroom to fix your hair.

The air was hot and you could feel yourself start to sweat, getting slightly frustrated as you walked.

You passed through the heavily crowded hallway, your costume getting stuck on someone else's.

"Oh shit, sorry about that"

A pair of hands tugged on the green fabric of your skirt, unsticking it from a sharp piece of cardboard and tape.

"Oh shit, you're Ethan right?"

He smiled at your words, nodding his head.

"Nice costume, Guess we're matching"

"What a coincidence"

But it wasn't a coincidence. Ethan knew what you were gonna dress up as. He had known for days, since the first time you went to the costume store just hours before this. When you were slipping the costume on.

He had been stalking you for weeks. Since the semester started he got closer to Chad just to get closer to you. This was just the first step in a master plan.

"So you two finally met! And you're wearing nerd costumes, great" Chad sighed as he rubbed his temples, hitting Ethan harshly on his back.

"This isn't a nerdy costume" You rolled your eyes as Ethan nodded, smiling to himself while trying to hold in his anger.

Every time he was with Chad it was like a ticking bomb. He was so excited to kill him. To get revenge and to take you away from him. Since Chad definitely had a little something for you.

He tried his best not to show how jealous he was when Chad wrapped his arm around you, dragging you to the kitchen to take shots.

You looked back at Ethan with a small smile, his heart beating faster as he waved at you.

For the next week, it felt like all you did was talk to Ethan. You would call for hours despite only having met him once before.

Ethan was excited, the plan was going better than he could've ever imagined.

The two of you shared a lot of similar interests, sure Ethan knew a lot of them already but he was surprised to see you enjoyed other things he enjoyed as well.

Your relationship slowly started to grow, becoming more than just friends after a while.

"Okay, that's enough" Mindy cringed as Ethan squeezed your waist, his smile pressed up to your neck.

"We might die and you two are basically fucking in front of all of us"

"We never say anything about you and Ani!" You furrowed your eyebrows, Mindy continuously shaking her head.

The night ended and you and Ethan were put on cleaning duty, and since you were such a good girlfriend you decided to clean his room for him.

It was always messy, with snack wrappers and empty water bottles covering his nightstand.

You dragged the trash can Into his room, handfuls of trash into the can.

"God Eth, your rooms a mess" You mumbled under your breath, shaking off his bedsheets.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you spotted a thin black cloth peeking from under his bed.

At first, you thought it was probably just a hoodie or something, but when you pulled it out you were more than wrong.

Your fingertips were stained with fresh blood, wiping it quickly on your jeans. The more you looked underneath the bed the more you found.

You finally screamed when you found a poorly cleaned knife in a ghost face mask, dropping the items in horror.

"Really, Y/n?" He sighed at the sight in front of him, your eyes blurry with tears.

"What is that Ethan? Why do you have that?"

"You weren't supposed to find out Y/n. I'm sorry, I really am"

You were confused at his words, backing up slowly until your body made a small thud against the wall.

"Are you gonna kill me?" Your voice hitched as he went to grab the knife on the ground, his finger gently tracing the blade of the weapon.

"I would literally never hurt you, Y/n. I'm protecting you. And I have been for months now"

His tone was distorted, getting more and more defensive with each step he took towards you.

You couldn't believe this was happening to you again. And the fact that Ethan was the one behind all of it broke your heart.

"It was innocent at first. But you were just so stubborn weren't you? Had to do some more research and find out what you were gonna be for Halloween"

You gulped, knowing the only person who knew your costume was Anika.

"You were stalking me?" You weren't crying anymore, instead you were angry.

You were so tired of the ghost face shit following you everywhere you went.

You showed him your stab wounds, not knowing he was probably gonna try to stab you right there again.

"It was Innocent...Y/n, please. I love you"

Your eyebrows furrowed, a scoff escaping your lips.

"You really think I'm still gonna be with you after this? Ethan, I'm not a criminal. I'm not like you. You were probably gonna kill me next! What is wrong with you? Why are you doing this?"

He gulped, tears forming in his eyes. He needed to cry, it was the only way to make you feel pity towards him.

But he should’ve known that would’ve never worked, especially not with you.

“Are you seriously fucking crying? Ethan, you’re a killer, you killed all those innocent people!”

Your lips quivered as you tried to hold back tears. You couldn’t cry, you needed him to know you weren’t scared. You were, but you only needed him to see your anger.

“That was my dad, it was Detective Bailey”

Your mouth dropped, rubbing your eyes as Ethan sat on the bed, sad while he watched you pacing around the room.

“You’re a fucking psychopath”

“But you love me” His words came out so confidently, your eyes giving him a stern and annoyed look.

But even under all of it Ethan could see the sadness and fear in your eyes, he knew he would get you back eventually. One way or another.

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concreteburialplot · 5 months ago

Text

𝒲𝒶𝓁𝓁𝒻𝓁𝑜𝓌𝑒𝓇 🌸 // 02

02 - I Can See You

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Fem!Reader

Masterlist: Here | Crossposted: ao3 | Word Count: 8.9k | Playlist: Here

Summary: After bumping into the boy who saved you from being locked out of your dorm, he whisks you away on an adventure to a bar you shouldn’t even be allowed in. Drunkenly, Sam invites you to a get together with his brothers. The anxious energy at the gathering has you questioning the invitation’s intent.

Warnings: (unknown) mutual pining, one bed trope technically, hint of forbidden twin?, very soft, sweet sammy, underage drinking, weed, jake being jake, unrealistic college experiences?, feelings of inadequacy, ~new crush anxiety~, 18+ MDNI

A/N; thank you so much to anyone who read part one, it makes me so happy to know it was enjoyed so much 🩷

Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction and does not reflect any members of the band or their real lives/actions/etc. - i hope you like it 🥲💞🌸 smut next chapter promise

Vibes this chapter;

-I Can See You - Taylor Swift - Close To You - Gracie Abrams - Maroon - Taylor Swift - Fallingforyou - The 1975 - So High School - Taylor Swift

The moment consciousness seeped into your body, you jolted upright, your heart racing like a shot of adrenaline straight to your system—a perfect substitute for caffeine. Your eyes scanned the room within a millisecond only to have the throb of a hangover remind you of how you got there in the first place. You immediately looked beside you on the mattress even though you felt no presence there. The bed and the room were empty. The edge of your lips inadvertently downturned at the lack of him. Your eyes landed on the bedside table, finding a note there.

Mornin’ -

Help yourself to some snacks or some green

Hope to see you around, Wallflower ❀

-Sam :)

An embarrassingly wide grin crept across your lips and butterflies began to run rampant in your tummy. If the note itself wasn’t enough, the little flower doodle made your heart soar. You instantly tried to stifle it down, he was just some boy you met at a party. He didn’t make any moves on you and treated you only as a friend. You barely knew each other. You were nothing special to one another - at least that’s what you told yourself.

Once ready to get out of bed, you stripped off the rust-colored shirt you’d borrowed from him the night before, folding it into a neat square on his dresser. You changed back into the stained shirt that his had temporarily replaced just to be clothed enough to walk across the hall to your room.

The notepad that seemed to belong to the note on the bedside table sat next to the boxes of incense on the dresser. You took it upon yourself to write him a note back.

Hey -

Thanks for the shirt and for saving me last night.

See you across the hall! haha

-Wallflower xx

Weeks slipped by without a single sight of him. You thought he must really spend all his time at Danny’s, because despite living on the same floor, you never saw him coming or going. Each day, as you walked down the hallway to or from your room, you’d glance toward his door, just hoping to catch even the briefest glimpse of him. But every time, there was nothing—no sign of him at all. It was as if Sam had vanished into thin air.

The longing gnawed at you, filling you with the prickling rush of a high school infatuation. It was that same eager anticipation you used to feel while lingering around a crush’s locker, waiting for that fleeting moment when your worlds would briefly collide. The anticipation, the nervous energy that hummed through your veins—it left you with a familiar ache of wanting to see him, even just for a second. It felt almost insane to be so desperate to run into someone you’d met only once, but it was maddening how he seemed to occupy every corner of your mind, refusing to be forgotten.

You were beginning to wonder if Sam had just been a figment of your imagination until an hour before closing the on-campus café, when a familiar face walked up to the counter. When you looked up at him, his grin grew wide.

“Wallflower!” He exclaimed.

A peachy tint coated your cheekbones at the fact he remembered the nickname he’d given you. “Hey Sam.” You tried to keep your voice level to not seem overly enthusiastic, but inside there was a flurry of excitement. “I haven’t seen you around much.” You kicked yourself for mentioning it, thinking he may find it creepy that you noticed.

“Ah yeah, I take night classes, so my schedule is all fucked up.” He shrugged.

“Oh, that makes sense.” You said in realization since you mostly took morning classes. It was no wonder you never ran into each other with your schedules flipped.

He ordered an iced chai and watched as you swiftly threw together the ingredients without a second thought. “You really seem like a pro at this.”

You laughed. “Yeah, I guess.” After throwing a lid on the cup, you slid it to him.

“Hey, when are you off? I’m thinking of heading to the bar after this, wanna come?” He plucked a straw from the container full of them then smacked one end on the tabletop until it ripped through the other.

“About 30 min-“ Your head tilted a bit. “You’re a freshman, aren’t you? How are you getting into a bar?” You asked skeptically.

A smug smirk tugged at his mouth and shrugged nonchalantly. “I have my ways.”

“Oh, well I don’t have a fake ID or anything like that…” You trailed off suddenly feeling the excitement of seeing him again drain from your body.

“It doesn’t matter. Like I said I have my ways, I know people. I can get you in no problem.” He paused. “If you want to, of course.”

“Okay.” You nodded, still not fully convinced but you weren’t going to pass up on an invitation out with him.

Upon arriving at the off-campus bar with Sam, you’re immediately overwhelmed. The bar was tiny, grungy with red neon lights adorning the outside. Posters of music artists, new and old, were plastered all over the walls. It was packed, people bustling and flowing in and out the front door. All Sam did to get you both in was show up. All the staff seemed to know him and didn’t blink an eye when he ordered you both drinks. You chose a lime margarita while he chose a beer.

“Where are your friends?” You asked looking up at him before taking a small sip of your neon green beverage. You wrapped your cardigan around your body as a way to soothe your social overstimulation.

He looked at you a bit funny before outstretching his arms, “Well, look around!”

You giggled and did as he instructed. In a way he was right, just about everyone in the room seemed friendly with him but not necessarily his friends. You nudged his arm with your elbow, “You know what I mean.”

“First of all,” He used his free hand to cover the area you had just gently poked. “Ow! That hurt.” He exclaimed teasingly. “Second of all, did I say I was meeting friends?”

You reflected on the earlier interaction, initially perceiving it as him meeting up with friends and you merely being an afterthought. But as you reconsidered, one phrase stood out in your mind: "I can get you in no problem, if you want to, of course." It replayed over and over, taking on a new significance.

He could clearly see the hoops you were jumping through in your mind, and it brought a grin to his lips. His hand tentatively found your wrist to gently ground you enough to regain your focus back to him. “I asked you to come here with me, not them.” He said simply, like it was as easy as breathing but it hit you in the stomach like a punch.

Blood flooded your cheeks bright red, “Oh,” You didn’t know what to think nonetheless what to say. The last thing you wanted to do was misinterpret what he was implying and make a fool of yourself. “I see.” If it had been any other man, they might’ve taken your curtness as a rejection or grown insecure, but not Sam. He just gave you a smile and said, “Good.” before taking a sip of his beer.

He led you into the back corner of the bar where the pool tables and games were located. “You wanna play some pool? Test out those tricks you learned a couple weeks ago?” He asked but your eyes were elsewhere.

A large grin pulled across your lips with a brightness filling your eyes as they returned to him. “What about darts?”

His eyes flickered with uncertainty before pulling into a smile, “Sure, why not! Loser buys the next round.”

“Deal.” You happily went to gather the existing three darts on the board and brought them over to the boy. You offered them up like a gift in your hands. “Here ya go.”

He put his hand up and shook his head, “No, no ladies first.” He was being polite, but it just seemed like he was unsure of his abilities.

You positioned yourself in front of the dartboard, feeling Sam’s gaze on you as you prepared to throw. The light hum of bar chatter faded to the background as you focused, the dart cool in your hand. Your fingers curled around it just right, and with a smooth motion, you threw. The first dart landed solidly within the outer ring—not perfect, but decent. You turned to glance at Sam, flashing him a playful smile before grabbing the second dart.

As you lined up your next shot, you made sure to take your time. You could feel Sam’s eyes on you, watching your every move. With a small flick of your wrist, the second dart hit closer to the center this time—just barely off the mark from a perfect shot. You gave him a small, satisfied smirk, the competitive spark in your eyes unmistakable.

For the final throw, you felt a playful and buzzed surge of confidence. Turning to Sam with a smirk, you gave him a challenging glance. “Ready to see how it’s really done?” You asked with a teasing lilt in your voice. Then, with another smooth, more controlled, flick of your wrist, you released the dart, watching it land just shy of the bullseye, so close that you could almost feel the victory in the air. You stepped back, letting out a breath of satisfaction. “Your turn,” you said, stepping aside and offering him the darts with a grin. "Good luck."

Sam chuckled softly, shaking his head in disbelief. “Okay, show off,” he sassed, clearly amused but a little more nervous now. He stepped up to the line, eyeing the board with a serious expression that only made you grin wider.

“C’mon, Sammy,” you teased. “Don’t tell me you’re already nervous.”

He glanced back at you with a raised eyebrow, his lips curving into a smirk. “Worried? Nah. Just making sure I don’t embarrass myself too much in front of you.”

Your cheeks felt aflame, the statement could’ve definitely been meant in a friendly way, but it made your heart race. Just the idea that he was conscious about your perception of him was almost enough to make you spiral into what-ifs.

Sam took a deep breath, rolling his shoulders like he was about to face a real challenge. He stepped forward, aiming carefully. The bar's warm lighting cast shadows over his features, giving his usual confident expression a touch of apprehension. He threw the first dart—landing just shy of where your first shot had landed.

"Not bad," you teased, crossing your arms. "Think you can do better?"

His lips twitched, that competitive edge sparking in his eyes. He glanced at you briefly before throwing the second dart, this time hitting dangerously close to where your second shot had been. "There we go," he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to you.

You couldn't help but laugh softly. "Guess the pressure's on now, huh?"

Sam smirked, his eyes finding yours as he prepared for the final throw. "Always is when you're around." The words were light, but there was a certain tension beneath them, a weight that made your heart skip a beat. His focus shifted back to the board, and he released the third dart—this one just a hair away from the bullseye.

You let out a mock gasp, stepping closer to him as if to inspect the board. "Well, look at that! Seems like you could actually win."

He leaned in slightly, his shoulder brushing yours. "Could?" he echoed, his voice low, teasing. "Sounds like you're doubting me."

Your smile softened, feeling the heat of his presence next to you. "I guess we'll just have to see, won't we?"

He chuckled, the sound warm and familiar, and for a moment, the world outside of this dart game seemed to fade. It was just the two of you, standing close, the air charged with something unspoken yet undeniable. You wondered if it was just the alcohol rushing through you or if it was real, and more than anything, you wondered if he felt it too.

You and Sam continued playing, the competitive energy between you both lighthearted but persistent. With each round, Sam improved slightly, his throws becoming steadier and more consistent. But despite his best efforts, you managed to stay ahead, winning both rounds with just enough of an edge to keep teasing him about it.

By the end of the third round, it was clear that you had the upper hand, your score pulling ahead with each set of darts. Sam finally threw his last dart, which landed just shy of the bullseye, and turned to you with a mock sigh of defeat. “Alright, you’ve officially beaten me three times in a row, I think it’s time to call it.”

You laughed victoriously, the burn of alcohol warming your skin and allowing your real, unbridled self shine through. “Fuck yeah!”

“Damn, beat my ass in pool and darts, gonna beat me in poker too?” He joked. “C’mon I owe you probably the most expensive shot on the menu.” Sam knew he’d lose to you the entire time. Not only because he really sucked at darts but because he just wanted an excuse to buy you a drink without it being an overtly romantic gesture.

While a shot wasn’t necessarily what you wanted, who were you to deny Sam of anything. You were certain that he could convince you to do goddamn anything with those big hazelnut eyes.

One shot of tequila turned into two, two turned into three until you were four shots deep, giggling at the bar with Sam over any and everything. With a new margarita in your hand and fresh beer in his, you both found yourself in the back corner again, this time on a leather couch. Your thighs and hips sat flush with each other, and it was all you could think about. Warmth radiated off of him and seeped burning heat into your side. You were aware of any and all movements beside you and your hazy mind worked hard to decipher them. Sometimes it felt like he was flirting with you and other times he’d act like a friend. This confusion wasn’t made any easier when he dropped his arm around your shoulders.

Little did you know that Sam was feeling the same way, sensing a nervous pit in his stomach as he picked apart every expression and reaction you gave him. He paid extra attention to when he attempted to flirt with you, he noticed that your cheeks would redden but you wouldn’t flirt back. He was just as confused as you.

You both were nervous, confused and excited. As much as Sam wanted to rush it, he wanted it to play out organically to see if you felt the same.

All the alcohol from the night was making you tired so when you leaned into Sam’s touch, it didn’t register that you could be overstepping. Sam froze but wasn’t upset about your sudden affection.

“Sammy.” You hummed against his shoulder, letting the smell of his herbally cologne fill your nostrils. “You smell really good.”

He let out a breathy laugh and wrapped his arm further around you, pulling you closer. “Yeah? You like it?” He asked, looking down at you with a soft smirk.

“Mhm. It’s perfect.” You looked up and giggled as you booped his nose. “Like you.”

If you had been sober, you would’ve been mortified of your own actions but drunk you only noticed how his tan cheeks turned pink. He looked so cute with rosy cheeks.

“Oh,” He laughed down at you. “You must be very drunk.”

“Nuh uh!” You protested sitting up, using Sammy’s thigh for support. He was immediately extremely aware of your hand placement but was trying his best not to think about it too much. “You had the same amount to drink.”

“I never said I wasn’t drunk, silly.” He stated proudly, “Just that you,” He booped your nose back. “Are definitely, very drunk.”

You pouted at him before letting your defenses fall, giving way to your fatigue. “Sammy, I’m sleepy.” You informed with a bit of a slur. “Bed. Must get to bed.”

Before he could respond, you were up and marching for the door - you had a mission and you were going to accomplish it. Sam gathered your cardigan and purse for you and hurriedly followed you out of the bar. “Hey, wait up!”

Once Sam caught up to you, the two of you stumbled through the night like only tipsy college students could, winding your way through the streets back to your dorms. You trekked through the quiet streets, making your way home with a mix of laughter and slurred songs. You sang whatever pop song was dominating the radio, your voice loud and uninhibited. Despite Sam's earlier claims of hating mainstream pop, he somehow knew every word. You both belted out the chorus together, the melody echoing in the still night air.

You skipped ahead, dancing and twirling under the streetlights, your carefree energy infectious. Sam, though a little more reserved, couldn't help but smile as he watched you. He wasn’t necessarily a reserved creature normally but even wasted he was nervous to make a fool out of himself in front of you. Sam mostly watched with a fond smile, occasionally giving in to your playful antics and joining in—whether it was a spontaneous spin or a goofy dance move—he couldn’t help it, you were addictive to him. Not so much like a drug, but more like a new favorite latte to be craved every morning. He didn’t mind getting lost in you; he was happy just being there with you, letting himself be swept up in whatever fun you dragged him into.

Once you reached your dorm room door you fell to your knees dramatically, “Nooooo!” You shook your fists at the sky over another sock on your door.

He giggled at your theatrics, “Does she do this often?”

“AUGH.” You groaned and fell flat on your back. “Only every other fucking day.” You exhaled and blinked at the dust-coated ceiling.

He held out a hand to help you up, which normally would take no effort, but your exaggerated movements were obstructing the ease. “C’mon let's get you into a bed.”

Once on your feet again, his hands found your hips to push you forward and it sent a chill down your spine and a heat between your legs. Even in your heavily intoxicated state, you were extremely aware of just how large his hands were and how they enveloped your hipbones completely. The way he guided you to his room reminded you of that first night with him, though you were much less drunk then. When inside, the now familiar scent of marijuana and patchouli filled your nose, and the dim lighting comforted you.

“I don’t even wanna know what you’ve been doing all these nights while you’re locked out of your room but,” He opened the top drawer to his desk, grabbing something that hung by a little white disc. “You can always just come here, since I’m gone most of the time anyway.” He shrugged, holding it by the disc in front of you between two fingers.

“Oh, I absolutely can NOT take that.” You pushed his hand back towards his body.

Sam rolled his eyes with a smile and reached towards your pants, gently pulling your pocket open and dropping the key in. “Don’t use it if you don't want to but,” He paused, taking a moment to look at you. “I want you to have a safe space to go to.”

Your heart swelled so big in your chest that you feared that your ribs might crack. His chocolatey brown eyes were so soft and genuine, and most of all concerned. The idea of Sam not only trusting you enough to give you his key but doing so because of his concern for you, made you want to melt into the floor. Which is exactly what you did.

Your knees buckled and you fell onto the ground once again in dramatics. You sprawled out flat on the carpet with your eyes locked on the geometric tapestry hanging from the ceiling. He chuckled and towered over you with his hands propped on his hips, “You done now?”

You blinked up at him. “Why would you do that?” You whined more of a statement than a question.

“Do what? Give you the key?”

“Make me like you.” The words danced out of your mouth effortlessly, so much so that your drunken brain didn’t even register what you said.

The smile that pulled across his lips was so glorious, so beautiful - it reminded you of morning sunlight shining down on fresh, dewy grass. Sober you would definitely be filling your brain with 68 different ways he was too good and far too gorgeous for you – but right now, you just admired him and his presence. He reached over to grab his pipe and a lighter before sitting down criss-cross next to you on the floor.

“You like me?” He asked with a soft smirk as he brought the pipe up to his lips and lit the lighter to spark over the herb. As the green burned, he inhaled a deep hit, held it, and exhaled a smokey cloud above you.

You turned your head to him with a smile wide enough to hurt your cheeks and nodded. “Sure. Maybe.”

He kept his grin like he was satisfied with your answer. The anxiety he felt before melted away just a bit. His own heart was full from your slight confession but still aware that you were heavily intoxicated. The admission filled him with both hope and apprehension. He offered the glass pipe over to you, “Want some?”

You waved it away, “No, no. If I get crossfaded, I’ll throw up.” To which he quickly retracted his arms and his offer.

“Please don’t puke on my floor.” He teased before setting the pipe back on his nightstand.

After a bit of silence, he cleared his throat, “So, um,” He sounded nervous to continue his inquiry. “My brothers and I are having a movie-day-get-together thing this Friday, would you wanna come?”

You tilted your head at him, your stomach dropping a bit in anxiety at the idea of being in a room full of people he knows, not just his friends, but his brothers. Nonetheless, a soft smile spread across your lips, “Sure, Sammy.”

He let out an involuntary giggle, he loved the way his name sounded in your voice, “Cool.” Abruptly, he pushed himself off the ground and held a hand down to you. “C’mon, you said you wanted a bed, remember.”

“Mmmmmm yeah but the floor is comfy too.” In your drunken state, it felt like heaven.

“Don’t make me pick you up, because I will.” He warned with a pointed finger, to which you just stuck your tongue out to like a defiant child.

“Fine, hard way I guess.” He shrugged before leaning down and scooping you up into his arms with one beneath your knees and the other supporting your back. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck for stability. Time seemed to slow as you watched him focus on getting you into bed - he was breathtaking, glowing even. You weren’t sure why he was radiating but you bathed in the sun rays he beamed. His wavy brunette hair framed his face perfectly, cupping his jawline with a small curl inward. All of his angles were sharp which contrasted tastefully with his plump lips and soft eyes. If there was a blueprint to what a man should look like, it was definitely him. You weren’t religious but you were convinced that some god up there must’ve crafted him perfectly, sculpted him into the most gorgeous man you’d ever seen.

You were falling in love, and you didn’t even know it yet.

“Sammy.” You mumbled sleepily, nuzzling into his arm as he set you down. “Don’t leave. Sleep.”

He chuckled, crawling into bed behind you. “Wasn’t planning on it, Wallflower.” He whispered gently, turning his body towards you.

He muttered something along the lines of ‘oh shit the light’ before reaching over you carefully to click the lamp off. As he settled back into his original spot, he accidentally ended up closer to you. Before he could move away, your sleepy body instinctively grabbed his arm, pulling it around your waist. He froze for a moment, caught off guard by the unexpected intimacy but your warmth was too inviting to resist. He quickly melted into the spooning position, holding you close as sleep began to overtake you.

Sam stayed awake a little longer, savoring the warmth and closeness. He hadn’t realized just how much he missed this��being able to hold someone, feeling a comforting connection. It had been a long time since he’d had a girlfriend, and while he often saw his brothers and shared platonic affection with friends, it wasn’t the same. Cuddling had always been the part of relationships he cherished most, even more than sex. As he snuggled into you, and you unconsciously pressed back against him, he felt a flicker of something he hadn’t felt in a while. Whether it was just a drunken gesture or something more, it didn’t matter right now. It simply felt good to hold someone again.

Your sleep riddled eyes slotted open slowly to warm light seeping in and gentle music playing. When your eyes finally adjusted to the light, you saw Sam lighting incense and dancing a bit to music you didn’t recognize.

“Morning.” You said gently as not to startle him, which proved useless since he nearly jumped out of his skin.

He placed a hand on his heart, “Jesus, you scared the shit out of me.” He then readjusted to lean against his dresser in a ‘cool’ way, “You didn’t uh, see anything did ya?”

You giggled, bringing the duvet over a yawn. “You mean like you dancing? Nooo didn’t see any of that.” You replied teasingly.

“Whatever, forget what you saw.” He waved you off and went back to trying to get the incense lit after being interrupted. The lighter flicked a couple times before finally igniting and catching the tip of the scented stick.

“Already forgotten.” You smiled into another yawn and stretched, pulling the muscles in your shoulders and arms.

You suddenly got a rush of ‘I need to go home’ when you realized you were still in last night’s clothes but relaxed the second you realized that your room was just down the hall.

“You hungry? I ordered some food that should be here soon.” He grinned, hesitantly. “I didn’t really know what you liked or if you’d be awake so I just kinda ordered a bunch of stuff.” He laughed bashfully. “I was also a little high when I placed the order so…”

You chuckled at him, “Yeah sure, I could use something to soak up all this alcohol.”

Soon after there was a knock at the door with the food. You watched Sam greet the deliveryman who he already seemed to know, and tipped him a $20, which you thought was extremely generous until you realized just how much food he ordered.

He turned to you with an expression that embodied both shock and embarrassment. “Okay so maybe I was really high when I ordered.”

You both laughed as he set down four bags of food for the both of you. While it was true that he had been quite high when he ordered, he also hoped that he’d pick something from the menu that would entice you to stay a bit longer.

He plopped down on the floor in front of all the food, starting to separate all of the transparent containers. You soon met him on the floor on the other side of the mountain of food. “What is all this stuff?” You questioned, not recognizing the green branding.

“It’s my favorite little bistro, Rose & Lentil! You’ve never been?” He pulled out what looked like a smoothie bowl, something pudding-like, a mixed salad and some grainy pancakes. You never expected a boy like him to be eating anything other than junk.

“No, I’ve never been, but it looks yummy.” You half lied. “What’re you gonna eat?”

“Hmm, I was thinking either the açaí bowl or the chia seed pudding. But if you want either of those, by all means.” He kept hands off all of it until you chose.

“I was actually gonna ask for the pancakes so that’s perfect!” You hungrily reached over to grab the container and brought it to you.

Sam opted for the açaí bowl, informing you that it was actually his favorite breakfast food, aside from regular pancakes. The ones he’d ordered were whole grain pancakes, but they ended up being delicious regardless - that or you were just starving.

Breakfast was full of jokes about the previous night’s events, with both of you laughing over the silly moments and playful mishaps. As you sat across from him, the conversation flowed effortlessly, each joke and shared memory bringing another burst of laughter. Everything felt so easy and natural with him, like slipping into a comfortable routine. But even amid the lighthearted banter, there was a small, persistent flutter of anxiety in your stomach. It was a twist of nerves that you couldn’t quite shake, a subtle hint of the deeper feelings lurking beneath the surface.

As you watched him move around some blueberries at the bottom of his clear container, you were suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling of gratitude. You were thankful that this stranger attended that frat party weeks ago and that he spotted you. You were so grateful for his kindness; you didn’t know what you would’ve done these nights being kicked out of your dorm. But mostly, you were thankful for his friendship. Katie was a decent friend and roommate, but she was absent most of the time and you hadn’t made any other friends. If it didn’t sound so lame you would’ve thanked him verbally for spending time with you. Being away from home was lonely and it was nice to spend some time with a friend. You weren’t sure if this little flutter in your heart would actually lead anywhere but if anything was for certain it was that you’d find any way to make sure he stayed in your life, even if it was just platonic. No matter how much the idea of platonic hurt to think about.

After breakfast you said your goodbyes and slipped out of his room and back into your own, quietly, in case Katie was sleeping or still had company. Thankfully, the room was empty, and you could decompress in solitude. You pressed yourself against the back of your door and took a deep breath. All Sam did was be kind to you, and you were already smitten with him. How could you not be? With beauty like his you were surprised he didn’t have a jealous girlfriend kicking you out of his room. You closed your eyes and let your head fall back replaying the night. Suddenly, a vague memory arose, of him wrapped around you as you fell asleep. Heat filled your cheeks and the tips of your fingers at the thought, and you wondered if you had just imagined it. Regardless, you now felt the absence of him around you, and it was a feeling you didn’t like.

But you stuffed down the sensation as much as you could, he probably was taken or uninterested in you in that way. With how pretty he was there was no way that he’d be interested in someone as mediocre as you thought yourself to be. He probably dated the most beautiful girls on campus, and you believed you definitely weren’t one.

A week later, you arrived at the address Sam had given you and craned your neck up to the skyscraper-esque building. Sam had called this an apartment building, but it was definitely a condominium. You didn’t even know there were condos on the outskirts of campus, but you went to a prestigious university so, it would make sense the rich kids lived here. Which surprised you because you never even suspected Sam to be a “rich kid”, he was just, Sam.

After a long elevator ride, you reached the 7th floor and stood in front of a white door adorned with a gold number paired with a letter, 7C. You shift back and forth on your heels and grip the straps of the tote bag hanging on your shoulder. After exhaling a deep breath, you mustered the courage to knock your knuckles against the door.

You’d briefly met all of his friends already except for the brother that owned the condo, but you hadn’t met them yet. Not sober anyway.

The door suddenly swung open only to reveal a boy with shaggy brown hair and a giant, toothy smile on his face.

“Y/N!” He exclaimed excitedly and you wondered how he knew it was you even though you’d never met before. The boy just a bit taller than you wrapped you in a big hug. Your brows furrowed a bit at the gesture, seeing as again, you’d never met before.

You chuckled nervously, “Josh? Right?”

“The one and only!” The grin never leaving his face. “Welcome, welcome!” He announced, spreading his arms wide. “Make yourself at home, grab a drink, enjoy yourself!” It was then that you realized he’d been holding a beer the whole time. “Oh, and please take your shoes off at the door, thank you!”

“Thank-“ You began but he had fluttered away before you had a chance to finish.

You could hear the bustle of the other boys in another room which is where you assumed Josh had run off to. You took in the condo as you were left alone. It was spacious with an open floor plan. Floor-to-ceiling windows filled the room with dim light from the cloudy day. Everything was white with abstract art decorating any sparse areas.

Josh must’ve promptly informed Sam of your arrival because he appeared quickly after his departure.

“Hey Y/N,” He smiled softly, and you took note of his reserved cadence and the fact he didn’t greet you with your nickname. He wrapped you into a half hug, which after Josh’s bear hug seemed small. You felt crazy for noticing the tiny differences in behavior when they probably meant nothing.

“Hey Sam.” You smiled shyly and gave him a small wave. The interaction seemed so… new, and stale, when you’d been hanging for a bit and even at the beginning, he hadn’t been like that. It settled a storm of nerves in the pit of your stomach. Suddenly every interaction you'd had with him was replaying in your head, wondering if something went wrong.

“Do you want a drink or something?” He asked, leading you into the spacious modern-styled kitchen. Once in front of a rather large silver fridge he opened the french doors to reveal a plethora of alcohol, taking up most of the appliance.

“Oh, um,” In the corner you spotted one row of water bottles. “Could I have a water please?” You figured that alcohol may not be the best idea when feeling as nervous as you did.

He smiled, “Of course.” His hand plucked a bottle and handed it to you before grabbing a beer of his own.

“Hey, Sam!” Called a voice you recognized as Jake’s calling from the other room. “Come help fix this shit with this TV.”

He rolled his eyes but placed a tender hand on your shoulder, “Excuse me.” He said in a tone insinuating that he’d rather do anything else than go help them.

Shortly after Sam left, you soon felt another presence enter the kitchen. “Well, well, well. Nice to see you again.” Welcomed Jake adorned with a faux British accent and a half drank amber beverage.

“Hi- uh,” You pointed over your shoulder. “Didn’t you just call him over for help?”

Jake smirked and gestured over in the general direction. “Yeah, that’s what he’s doing. Helping.” He took a sip of his drink, his chocolate browns eyeing you over the brims of the short glass. He looked even better in the daylight, in a patterned button down, unbuttoned til the very last few buttons before being sucked into his jeans. His hair was long, past his shoulders, and fluffy. His face was sterner than Sam’s but not as angular or sharp.

“Oh.” You replied shortly, feeling naive and a bit cornered.

“Oh love, you can’t be only drinkin’ water.” He stayed in the British accent except it was sounding a bit Irish. “Let me make you something.” He began taking bottles off the counters and pulled a stemless martini glass from a cabinet.

“No, no.” You tried to stop him using your hands to wave away his actions. “I’m okay really.”

“Nonsense. I’ll make it light.” His gravelly voice returning to his American dialect. Though, what he was making looked far from light and the churning anxiety in your stomach only worsened.

He poured in some vodka into a shaker and took the opportunity to glance up at you while the liquid poured. “So, Sammy wooed you huh?” The corner of his lips curling into a smirk.

“I-I,” You began but fell short, not really knowing the answer. It was true but Sam didn’t even know how you felt, you couldn’t let Jake know first.

“I see.” He nodded, adding cranberry juice to the metal container. “Either you haven’t told him or he’s not doing a very good job at wooing you.”

A bright red blush bloomed to your cheeks at his words, seemingly stunned silent, lost in your own jumbled thoughts.

He paused with his brows lowering then raising, “Or both.” Before the smirk returned again. “What a shame.”

“What is?” You asked innocently.

Some other juices and ingredients you didn’t recognize were added to the shaker before he snapped the lid on it. “You’re easily the most beautiful girl he’s ever brought around.” He said effortlessly, no hesitation behind the words - unlike with Sam, who had you questioning your entire purpose there. “It’d be a shame for him to fumble the opportunity to win you over.” He brought the shaker over his shoulder and shook it with one hand, ice clashing into metal filling the silence in the room.

“Oh, no.” The blush on your cheeks had dulled to dusty rose and your eyes fell to your water bottle as you played with the label. “I don’t think it’s anything like that.” When the words left your mouth, they felt like lies. It had to be something right? There’s no way you were just imagining everything. You shrugged. “Or maybe? I don’t know.”

He poured the martini glass full of a cloudy pink liquid and handed it to you garnished with mint. “You’re far too stunning to be that confused about someone’s feelings for you.”

You took the glass delicately to not disturb the beautiful presentation. “Thank you.” You replied quietly to both the drink and the compliment.

Jake’s eyes darted to the left catching Sam making his way back. The smirk returned to his lips before leaning over to reach your ear. “If you’re not impressed by him, let me know. I can do anything he can’t.” His hand lightly gripped your arm before parting from you to walk past Sam in the opposite direction.

Your eyes widened unsure how to take his claim, but a buzz fell into your hips nonetheless. What could he possibly show you that Sam couldn’t? But more importantly, was there truth behind his words, should you not be blindly crushing on Sam without knowing his feelings? While Jake wasn’t the one you wanted, he sure had a way of making everything so simple.

You were startled out of your thoughts when Sam finally reached your side. “C’mon, they’re about to start the movie.” He said quietly then placed his hand on the small of your back, gently guiding you to the living room.

The feeling of his touch on you made your heart swell but only further confused you about his behavior. Even after his hand left you, it still tingled where it had been. He plopped down in the middle of the couch and patted the cushion beside him, inviting you to sit next to him.

You couldn’t help the grin that tugged at your recently glossed lips and took the seat next to him.

It didn’t take long for all the boys to gather around the tv, some on the couch and some on the floor. They put on some indie movie that you could barely keep up with, not because it was necessarily over your head, but because of Sam’s proximity to you. Your knees were barely touching and there’s just a hair of space between our stationary pinkies on the cushion, just begging to cross over each other. Your heart stayed high the entire time, but you try to hide your chest rising and falling rapidly. You wonder if Sam or anyone else around them could tell or if Sam felt the same way.

Jake sat on the other side of Sam, and you were grateful for it because the idea of being sat between them made your head spin. It was bad enough you’d already caught him stealing looks at you every now and then, but you paid no attention to him, not wanting to fuel whatever fire he was trying to start. It was bad enough that his words were ringing in the back of your head and your curiosity running rampant.

You and Sam’s pinkies were still barely touching, and the contact remained light yet electric throughout the entire movie. The sensation of his skin brushing against yours was enough to keep your heart racing and your skin tingling with goosebumps. The quickened pulse and fluttering nerves never eased during the film’s two hours and seventeen minutes, despite the lively chatter and laughter of the group around you. Each time you shifted, or the couch creaked, the brief, tantalizing contact was a constant reminder of his closeness, amplifying your giddy nervousness. Every slight movement or accidental brush seemed to heighten the tension, making it almost impossible to focus on anything other than the shared, electrifying proximity between you. The soft, shared touch was like a delicate thread binding you together, making every casual brush of his hand feel intensely significant.

As the movie ended, the group burst into animated discussion, gesturing enthusiastically about their favorite parts. You were more than content to fade into the background, relieved not to be thrust into the conversation since you had barely paid attention and couldn't have contributed meaningfully. As the chatter continued and the group began to scatter—grabbing their belongings or placing glasses in the sink—You rose from your seat, stretching your arms above your head to loosen the muscles that had been dormant for the past two hours. Then, you navigated around the couch, stepping out of Jake's way as he made his way toward the living room exit.

You ended up leaning forward against the backside of the couch, pressing your palms into the headrests for support. Suddenly, you felt the warmth of Sam’s head resting on your shoulder from behind. It was a simple, unassuming gesture, but it sent your heart racing, making it feel as if it were leaping into your throat. The thudding pulse in your ears seemed to drown out everything else, and every hair on your body seemed to stand on end.

Sam's hands were tucked behind him as he bent slightly to rest against you. “Did ya like the movie?” He asked casually, completely unaware of the mini panic attack his closeness was causing.

“I—” You stuttered, feeling your cheeks flush with warmth. He chuckled softly, sensing your unease.

“You didn’t like it, did you?” He guessed with a knowing smile.

The blush deepened on your cheeks as he pulled away, giving you a moment to regain your composure. You turned to face him, trying to steady your breath. “I did,” you said, not entirely untrue, since you had been too distracted to focus on the film.

Sam’s face softened into an endearing, embarrassed grin, his eyes dropping to the floor. “Ah, I told the guys we should’ve picked a more interesting movie.” It was adorable, the way he was nervous about you enjoying the piece of media, nervous about impressing you.

You noticed then that it was just the four of them, no extra partners or friends. This was really about him introducing you to his tight-knit circle. He was more reserved with them compared to his larger-than-life charisma he normally exuded in other social situations. Being the little brother of two other grandiose personalities, it made sense that he’d sometimes get outshined. You wondered if this was the normal dynamic with them or if they were on good behavior because of your presence.

Without thinking, you reached out and found his wrist, giving it a little squeeze. “I liked it. I think I’m just tired.”

His regular joyful smile and the sparkle in his espresso eyes returned, “Oh, I’m glad. I was scared it would bore you.”

You shook your head with a reassuring grin, “No, I think I just need some coffee.”

“Hey, Y/N!” A voice called from the kitchen and when you leaned over to follow it, you found Jake with a cigar perched in his lips while he lit the end. “You should join us at the arcade tomorrow night.”

Your eyes flickered up to Sam, who looked like Jake just asked a question he had been hyping himself up to ask. “Sure.” You smiled up at Sam before moving back to Jake. “I’d love to.”

“Cool.” Sam nodded, trying to act nonchalant about it all but the truth was that he was ecstatic.

The more he got to know you, the more he became something he rarely was - shy. Fidgety and nervous were never part of Sam’s repertoire, he was always his most authentic self, never caring who thought what of him. Until you. Especially since you weren’t seeming to pick up on any of his hints. True to your nickname, he thought of you like a flower, something delicate. Delicate for Sam was dancing around all of the obvious signs instead of blurting out his feelings. He didn’t want to scare you away with overstepping or misread signals. You were slowly becoming his new favorite person, and he didn’t want to rush or lose that because of his own impatience.

After saying goodbye to the boys and thanking Josh for his stellar hospitality, you and Sam wandered over to an on-campus café for some much-needed coffee before Sam’s evening class started. The atmosphere was cozy, the scent of freshly brewed coffee wrapping around you like a warm blanket. It felt like the perfect way to wind down after the busy day.

The view from the amply large windows gave you a perfect view of the setting sun, casting pink and gold through the glass and onto the tan boy. You couldn’t get over just how beautiful he was, you wondered if he knew that about himself.

“Thanks for drivin’ me back to campus,” Sam said as he brought his cup to his lips. You couldn’t help but let your eyes drift to his mouth, watching as his pink lips touched the plastic lid. You felt a strange pang of envy toward that cup, wishing you were the one he was drawing closer to.

“Yeah, ‘course,” you replied, quickly blinking away your stare and taking a sip of your hot coffee to distract yourself.

He set his cup down and cleared his throat, his gaze locking onto yours with a spark of mischief. “So,” he began, drawing out the moment with unnecessary suspense, “I have a very important question.”

Your eyes widened as you mirrored him, placing your cup down too. “Oh god, what?”

Sam paused for effect, leaning in ever so slightly before finally asking, “What is… your major?”

You let out a relieved laugh, placing an open palm on your chest. “Jesus, you scared me.”

Sam chuckled, flashing you that easy grin of his. “Gotta keep you on your toes.”

“Um, honestly, I’m kind of undecided,” you admitted with a shrug. “I came in as an English major, but now I’m not so sure. You?”

“Ah, I’ve got no major,” he said casually, taking another sip of his coffee. “Why choose? I want a little bit of everything, ya know?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I believe they call that Liberal Arts.”

“Damn,” he sighed dramatically, shaking his head with mock disappointment. “And here I thought I was being revolutionary.”

If you didn’t have a massive crush on him, you might’ve teased him more, maybe something like, "Yeah, a lot of men seem to think they’re revolutionary," But you bit your tongue, opting for something lighter instead.

“Looks like you’re gonna have to think outside of a bigger box, Sammy,” you teased, tipping your cup toward him with a grin.

“I guess you’re right, Wallflower,” he shot back smoothly, making your heart skip a beat. It wasn’t your name but god did you love the way he said it. You felt the familiar warmth creeping up your neck, threatening to color your cheeks red, so you quickly changed the subject.

“So, your brothers just go to arcades regularly?” you asked innocently, trying to steady yourself.

He laughed, setting his cup back down. “Not just any arcade. It’s The Arcade. It’s this bar-arcade place, kind of like a smaller, off-brand Dave & Buster’s.”

Your lips formed an understanding "O." “My bad.”

“It’s a lot of fun,” Sam continued, his eyes lighting up with excitement. “I think you’ll really like it.”

You smiled, enjoying his enthusiasm, but something had been gnawing at you for a while now, so you leaned in with a half-serious grin. “Hey, so how do you get into all these places anyway? Just how many people do you know?”

Sam laughed easily. “Honestly, just one—my dad.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Your dad?”

“Yeah,” he said, shrugging like it was no big deal. “He’s the Dean.”

You almost spat out your coffee. “Your dad is the Dean? Of our school?”

“Yep,” he said with a grin. “And, well, I guess I know three people if you count Jake and Josh. They set some traditions before I started. Most of the bars let me in because of them.”

You blinked, processing the information. “So, your dad just lets you guys drink and party wherever you want?”

Sam shrugged nonchalantly. “Kinda. He wants us to have the full ‘college experience.’ As long as we keep our grades up and don’t screw up too badly, he pretty much lets us do whatever. It also helps that no one really wants to say no to us because, you know, Dean’s kids and all. Not that we’d ever get anyone kicked out or anything, but they don’t need to know that.”

You laughed, leaning forward on your elbows with a teasing glint in your eye. “So basically, don’t piss you off?”

Sam grinned, his expression softening as he leaned in slightly. “I don’t think it’s possible for you to piss me off.”

As you finished your coffee, the conversation drifted into lighter topics, the laughter between you and Sam making the café feel even cozier. But as the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm glow through the café windows, the thought of your upcoming weekend plans lingered in the back of your mind. The idea of spending more time with Sam at The Arcade filled you with a strange mix of anticipation and excitement—a little nerve-wracking but thrilling all the same.

“Ah shit.” Sam quickly shifted his watch into view. “I gotta get out of here before I’m late - again.”

The anticipation was sweet, a pleasant undercurrent as you both stood up to leave. You didn’t know it, but he was feeling just as anxious and excited as you.

Sam flashed you a grin that made your heart flutter. “So, Saturday then? I’ll pick you up around seven?”

“Yeah, sounds perfect,” you replied, unable to suppress the smile that tugged at your lips. It felt like the weekend couldn’t come fast enough

As you said your goodbyes and parted ways, a smile lingered on your lips, the thought of seeing him again sending butterflies swirling through your chest.

You found yourself looking forward to it more than you expected, not just because it sounded fun, but because it was with him. You couldn’t help but smile at the idea of what the weekend might bring—laughing over games, the buzz of the arcade lights, and maybe even an excuse to let your guard down a little more around him.

The thought of the upcoming date left you both excited and a little bit anxious. It felt different, but you couldn’t tell how. But mostly, you couldn’t wait to see where the night would take you—after all, being with Sam always promised an adventure.

Next Chapter -> 03 - Deflowering*

Taglist; @sacredthefran @deathblacksmoke @measuredingold @persuasivus @broken0mens @peaceloveunitygvf @shutupdevvie [comment or send an ask to be added to taglist<3]

A/N; Thank you SO much for reading! Let me know what you think<3

#concreteburialplot works #sam kiszka fic #sam kiszka fanfiction #sam kiszka x reader #sam kiszka fanfic #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fleet fic #sam kiszka fluff #greta van fleet fluff #gvf fic #gvf fanfic #gvf fanfiction #sam kiszka #sammy kiszka #sam kiszka x y/n

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skyesdaisys · 1 year ago

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character's i write for

welcome to my list of characters where i have many of them from many fandoms that i write for

requests: open currently (just wanna try writing again)

bolded names are ones i really wanna write for

yellowjackets (shauna shipman, jackie taylor, lottie matthews, taissa turner, van palmer, nat scatorccio, laura lee, callie sadecki)

dc titans (dick grayson, jason todd, kory anders, gar logan, donna troy, dawn granger, hank hall)

fear street (deena johnson, sam fraser, ziggy berman, cindy berman, kate schmidt, alice hart, simon kalivoda, tommy slater, young!nick goode)

teen wolf (scott mccall, stiles stilinski, isaac lahey, malia tate, kira yukimura, lydia martin, liam dunbar)

american horror story (violet harmon, kit walker, lana winters, zoe benson, madison montgomery, kyle spencer, misty day, cordelia goode, jimmy darling, tristan duffy, ally mayfair-richards, kai anderson, winter anderson, mallory, brooke thompson, montana duke)

the summer I turned pretty (jeremiah fisher, belly conklin, taylor jewel, shayla wang, conrad fisher)

gossip girl (nate archibald, dan humphrey, blair waldorf, jenny humphrey, serena van der woodsen, vanessa abrams)

miscellaneous: maeve rojas (one of us is lying), leighton murray (the sex lives of college girls), miguel diaz (cobra kai), brooke davis (one tree hill), maeve wiley & ruby matthews (sex education), kate bishop (hawkeye), roronoa zoro (one piece live action), daisy johnson (agents of shield), zach dempsey (13 reasons why)

another thing i'd like to add, i wouldn't mind writing poly ships x reader like dickkory, jackieshauna, stalia, sameena, lottienat, jaygar, etc. (or a poly ship with crossover characters like dick grayson & kate bishop for example)

i will write for fluff, angst, and maybe smut (there's only so much i am comfortable with though) if you ask nicely. and i only write for fem & gn readers

and as a reminder, you guys can request for the following fandoms for oneshots, headcanons, or just sending your fluffy or horny thoughts in my inbox (i don't judge)

#yellowjackets x reader #titans x reader #dc titans x reader #fear street x reader #ahs x reader #tsitp x reader #gossip girl x reader #jaiden writes things

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cosmiclove-heavenstruck · 1 year ago

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#polls #music #noah kahan #stick season #stick season (we’ll all be here forever)#maisie peters #boygenius #ed sheeran #olivia rodrigo #holly humberstone #dermot kennedy #sam fender

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bullet-prooflove · 10 months ago

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Could you do e-i-k-n-y for Sam Abrams and Crockett Marcel for the NSFW alphabet? Ty!

E - Extra info (any other fetishes? feet? leather? role playing? blood? fantasies that they might want to experience not on this list?)

Sam’s biggest kink is intimacy. He didn’t have a lot of it in his last marriage and he craves it now. Anytime you show it means the world to him. In the aftermath of sex, Sam will always tell you how much he loves you. It’s important to him that you know it.

I - Impact play (here’s where talking about things like spanking, paddles, canes, floggers and the like.)

Not really his thing, he doesn’t get off on something he deems as degrading or hurting you.

K - Kissing (what parts of their body do they like having kissed? what parts of their partner do they enjoy kissing? do they like leaving marks / having marks left on them?)

His lips, there’s an intimacy in a kiss that rivals no other for Sam, especially when you kiss him in front of other people. He likes other people knowing who he belongs to. I feel like towards the end of his relationship with his ex, they fucked but didn’t kiss, it was a away of trying to prove the marriage was ok even though it was lacking intimacy, which is why he treasures each and everyone of your kisses. He does it every opportunity he can.

Loves kissing your breasts, you’re very sensitive and he knows how much it gets you off when he gets his mouth on your chest.

N - Not yet (orgasm delay? orgasm denial? do they tell their partner not to touch themselves for a certain amount of time or under certain circumstances? do they delay or deny other things like bathroom usage or food? do they need to beg first? do they like being denied / delayed?)

Sam is more likely to overstimulate you that deny you anything. For him it’s about making you feel good, reminding you why you’re with him. He know he’s a hard man to be with and he tries to make up for it by showing you how much he loves you through sex.

Now on the other side of things he does like to be denied every so often. He has a very stressful job and sometimes he needs a way to vent that stress. Having his lover take over helps him with that, he loves giving you pleasure and he enjoys it even more when you take it from him. He isn’t coming until you are.

Y - Yes, Master (what kinds of names are used during sex? do they like being called master / mistress, daddy, etc…? what names do they call their partner?)

Just Sam, he hears Doctor Abrams all day, so hearing you say Sam especially in that breathless tone of yours brings him to his knees.

E - Extra info (any other fetishes? feet? leather? role playing? blood? fantasies that they might want to experience not on this list?)

I think Crockett has been around the block a couple of times so he’s tried a lot of things and has become well versed in what he liked. I think his thing would be bondage and blindfolds, possible sensual play, pinwheels, ice, licking whisky off your body.

I - Impact play (here’s where talking about things like spanking, paddles, canes, floggers and the like.)

Crockett realises he likes spanking the same way you do, it started as a fun think when you misbehaved a little and devolved into something you both really enjoy. He likes the sound it makes and the reaction it gets from you, it’s good little release at the end of a hard day for both of you. He prefers to use his hand because he enjoys the intimacy of it.

K - Kissing (what parts of their body do they like having kissed? what parts of their partner do they enjoy kissing? do they like leaving marks / having marks left on them?)

Loves kissing the curve of your throat, he thinks it’s the sexiest damn place on a woman. He will never intentionally leave a mark but if he does he gets a satisfied little feeling when he sees it.

Loves seeing your bite mark on his shoulder, it reminds him of what the two of you got up to.

Wants to come with you so will try to delay your orgasm until he’s there, loves the intimacy of coming with you. Also loves how loud you get when he’s kept you on the edge for a while.

Y - Yes, Master (what kinds of names are used during sex? do they like being called master / mistress, daddy, etc…? what names do they call their partner?)

Loves it when you call him Dari, an abbreviation of his real name. You are the only woman who has ever called him that and he thinks it’s a testament to just how well you know him. You are the only person who gets to see the real him, to know him.

Calls you the sweetest things in Farsi, tells you he loves you, that he’ll always love you. You have no idea what he’s saying but the intimacy of it heightens the experience.

#sam abrams #sam abrams x reader #sam abrams x you #crockett marcel #crockett marcel x reader #chicago med

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sonnetsoncanvas · 2 years ago

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Mess it up : pt 3

Summary: Years ago he had let you go for your own good. But this time, he isn’t sure he can

Part of the Mess it up series

Pairing: brother’s best friend rock star Bucky x fem reader (Steve’s sister) (dual pov)

Warnings: modern AU, angst, second chance, eventual smut, brothers best friend trope, implied cheating, self-deprecation, happy ending?

Inspired by: Mess it up by Gracie Abrams

Notes: This is the first time a fic has made its way from my laptop to the internet. So please be kind and do leave your feedback. Happy reading!

Chapter 3: I keep thinking maybe if you let me back in

Reader POV

Life was not fair. Never was to you. But that never seemed to faze you. if anything, that made you more resilient. Unafraid. Unbothered. Living in that small, noisy Brooklyn apartment, with a mother who worked herself to death trying to provide her children with a good life, a brother, the literal personification of sunshine, being picked on and bullied, tending to his bruises when he thought nobody’s looking.

It made you realise that the world is a dangerous place. It eats up those who stand unprepared. And so, you steeled yourself. Made yourself the most fearsome creature to behold in any room you entered. Your biting wit, your sass, you sharp intellect made you attractive to some, unappealing to many and untouchable to all.

There was only one who dared to play with the fireball that was Y/N Rogers. Only one for whom your guards went down. After all, if Steve trusted Bucky with his life, you could trust him with your heart. Right?

Turns out you couldn’t.

“This was supposed to be a temporary thing” he’d said.

“Do you really think I’m gonna take you home to my mother ? tell her you are what I want the Barnes legacy to continue with?” he’d sneered.

“Its time you go back to your dreams, and let me get on with mine.” He’d offered.

You never should have.

Bucky POV

Life was hilarious. Or at least it started seeming that way after years of neglect. He had everything a child could’ve wanted. All the toys in the world, the most expensive apparel, all the amenities a person could dream of. But the one thing he lacked was love. Pure genuine love.

His mother, The Winnifred Barnes of the upper east side, knew how to give birth to heirs, but did not have a clue about raising a child. Growing up in that negligent household, amongst people who were nefarious for being social climbers and gold diggers, little James soon realized that the only worth he has comes attached to his name. that no one would care for him if it weren’t for his billions.

But he was proved wrong when he met a lanky blond boy of Brooklyn at the music camp. It was there he shed the expensive cloak of James Buchanan Barnes and donned the dirty sneakers of Bucky. It was through Steve he recognised his own significance, that he could be something more than the well-groomed showpiece his family was expecting him to be.

And then he met you.

And it felt as if all his prayers had been answered.

You weren’t like Steve, not one bit. You were this fiery, self-assured human who could scorch the world with her brilliance. Unlike Steve, you were pragmatic. Unlike Bucky, you knew who you were and where you wanted to be.

And he fell for you. hard.

He borrowed some of your bravery, some of your light, and formed the Avengers with Steve, Sam and Wanda. He wanted to make something of himself to deserve you. to earn the jackpot that was your love.

However, for bucky, it seems happiness is always a temporary tryst. He tends to forget that.

Skiing was his passion. One of the many trappings of his privileged life that actually he enjoyed. It was the same passion that completely changed Bucky’s life. But unlike you, for the worse.

It was his own fault. No one else to be blamed. Had he heeded the weather warning, he wouldn’t be on that slope. he wouldn’t have been caught in that blizzard. He wouldn’t have lost his left arm.

When he regained his consciousness, the first face he saw was yours, streaked with tears, anguish in eyes.

You came there every day, sometimes under the pretence of dropping something for Steve, who refused to leave him alone, sometimes to fill in for his absence. The better bucky got, the more hopeful your eyes grew.

You’d altered everything to fit Bucky’s schedule. You worked late nights so that you could visit him in evenings after school, stopped going out with your friends to be with him instead. There were times you pulled an all nighter just so you could turn in your assignments on time.

He saw it all. The dark circles beneath your eyes, your tired face, the endless cups of coffee. It should’ve pained him, but the thought that you were there, to love him, to hold him, brought endless solace. and so he selfishly held on to you.

Until one day, Steve told him about your college acceptance letters.

“She got into Harvard Bucky! My baby girl in Harvard. Just think about that.” A hint of pride glimmered under his annoyance, “But she refuses to go. Says she cant leave Ma and I alone.”

“what ?!” Bucky had asked, guilt gnawing at him

“I mean Columbia is a decent school, but Harvard law?! It doesn’t get better than that. How far is Boston anyway?...”

Steve’s voice blended into the voices in Bucky’s brain. He knew the real reason behind your hesitation to go to Harvard was him. He remembered how excited you were when your adviser had confidently proclaimed that she is Harvard material.

And you were willing to let that go. For him.

Instead of joy, Bucky felt trepidation. Fear. Was this love? Or pity? Is this how the rest of your lives will be? You leaving things you love for his sake? And how long before you resent him? Hate him for all the opportunities you’d let go of for him?

How could he ever live with himself, knowing he was the anchor that was holding you back?

Bucky had resigned himself to live his life with his situation, but you didn’t have to. You , perfect in every way, intelligent, so beautiful that his heart ached.you should be with some one who deserved you. not him. Never him.

And so James Buchanan Barnes did something that was somehow more painful than ripping his heart out.

He let you go.

Reader POV

you woke up with a heavy head. It felt a lot like jet lag, except that it wasn’t. one did not get headaches by travelling from Boston to New York. One did, however get headaches after crying all night. Which was what you did last night.

It was embarrassing. Pathetic even. You thought you were over him, and all that it took was one glimpse of his to mess you up. You had a Suma cum laude from the most prestigious law schools in the world, scored job offers from the most esteemed firms, made grown men cower in front of in courtrooms, and yet, were drowning in a puddle of tears over a high school boyfriend.

To be fair though, your only boyfriend. After he dumped you, you swore off men, while he went on an array of affairs with so many women you lost count of it. The tabloids had always had a sweet spot for him. “The heartbreak prince” indeed. Its only that the prince did the heart breaking, not the other way round.

You ambled out of the bed and cleaned up. It was hours before your usual time, but well, its not as if you’re getting any sleep now, is it? Its better to get some coffee for your pounding head. Your interview was tomorrow thank heavens. There was no way you could’ve done it today.

A clattering of utensils startled you. there’s no way Steve was up this early. Your confusion was immediately clarified as you came across the very bane of your existence hunched in the kitchen.

You tried to turn back and leave as noiselessly as you could. You cannot endure this so early in the morning. You’d rather go out to get coffee, there must be some place open at the ungodly hour. Its New York after all.

He turned that very instant, as if he could sense you. his beautiful blue eyes widened as he took you in, as dishevelled and disoriented as you were. After a long minute he shifted his gaze from your face, looking everywhere but in your direction.

You were beginning to suspect that God was punishing you for all your years of antagonism.

“I was about to leave.”

His voice, his goddamn voice. Your heart had always been ready to race out of your chest and beat to the rhythm of his speech. It was ready to do that now.

Had human beings been able to survive without a heart, you would’ve had yours surgically removed ages ago. Stupid, bloody organ always getting you in trouble.

a wave of guilt hit you as he started for the exit. He had done the same yesterday, leaving moment you guys entered, Sam dragging him away to help him do something you don’t recall. He returned after you went to bed, whenever that was. And now this. It felt wrong that he was uncomfortable in his home. It wasn’t his fault that you weren’t over what he called “a seasonal distraction”.

“stay” you rasped; your voice too low to be heard. You tried again. “Stay, James.”

He stilled. Stood frozen on the threshold long enough for you to wonder if he’d fallen asleep standing up. And then he turned. His eyes full of something you were scared to decipher. The silence was too oppressive, even for you.

“we both know this would happen. We’re both adults, we can co inhabit a space without it imploding” your head was about to implode though, and not from the headache.

“yeah, right. Youre right.” He mumbled, still sticking by the door, which was a good thing because you needed coffee, and you were sure you couldn’t function properly with him in close proximity.

You turned towards the fancy coffee maker, which was far more advanced than the old spluttering relic that you had in your dorm. You fiddled with the buttons, trying to get it to work.

“here, let me.” He said, the low raspy baritone that made you shiver. You hoped he thought it was the morning chill.

He skirted around you to get to the counter, and yet his subtle smell plagued your senses. He turned the shiny knobs easily with his right arm, putting in a new filter and placing a cup near the nozzle.

“you still take your coffee black?”

The question, innocent at its core, jarred you. your ex remembering a small detail about your from years ago was not on your bingo card, but there you are.

“uh I umm, yes.” You internally cringed at the fact that you, the mock trial champion, was stuttering. He nodded slightly and continued.

“How can anyone like something like this?!” he gagged, sliding your cup over to you.

“that’s what you get for taking a sip without my permission Barnes.” You smirked, snuggling in his outstretched arms, ready to resume his favourite movie that you honestly didn’t understand. All you cared for was spending time with him, even if it was hidden in his apartment.

“Atleast add sugar to it doll. Its too damn bitter.” He coughed.

“I like it bitter.”

You jerked at the small beep from the machine. Your eyes involuntarily went to his, only to recognise the same surprise there, as if this conversation took him to some other. the very thought of it gave you hope, and hope, you’ve realised over the years, is the most dangerous thing.

You hastily grabbed the cup, too eager to end this interaction. His presence was triggering emotions you have avoided for too long.

In your hurry you toppled the cup over, its blistering hot content pouring out. But before you could feel the burn, a shiny metal gripped your wrist and tugged you away. You staggered and stumbled forwards, bumping into his chest.

It was you who froze this time. too incapacitated by his smell, his body, him to move. You felt him draw in deep breaths, his heartbeat audibly speeding up. you stayed there for god knows how long.

It was he who withdrew. Because of course it was. You regained your composure and jumped back, frightened by the comfort that had washed over you in that moment.

“Thank you.” you gasped, and bolted out of the room right that instant.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagines #bucky angst #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky headcanon #bucky imagine #bucky smut #bucky x female reader #steve and bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barns #bucky fluff #fanfic #avengers fandom

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perseephoneee · 3 months ago

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𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫 @artyandink

↳ masterlist ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist

-͟͟͞☆I ship you with Bucky Barnes! While you both are pretty black cat coded, I think you could pull him out of his shell a lot. He'd really appreciate your pragmatism, and would enjoy getting to hear about all your various passions. Also, you being confrontational and stubborn will be very great in getting him to confront his issues. Sam will thank you alter.

-͟͟͞☆Headcanons:

Sometimes Bucky trains you, especially when he's needing to blow off some steam. And then during training, you can blow off steam in other ways ;)

Bucky isn't great with words of affirmation, so he makes sure to give you lots of physical touch. Whether its holding your hand or pulling you into his lap while watching movies, he seeks to always be close to you.

-͟͟͞☆Tropes:

friends to lovers

nerd (you) x secret nerd (bucky)

-͟͟͞☆Playlist:

kiss me by sixpence none the richer

everlong by foo fighters

-͟͟͞☆I ship you with George Weasley! Both Weasley twins are pranksters by heart, but George is the more empathetic of the two. He'd always give you reasons to laugh, while also being someone to lean on when things get tough. Plus, the two of you will very likely get into hijinks with the ruder Slyterhins.

-͟͟͞☆Headcanons:

Molly was so excited to see George bring home such a self-starter. Then she started asking Fred why he couldn't do the same.

George spent eons pushing notes under your door in Gryffindor's common room, thinking you ignored all of them. Truth is, you kept every single one.

-͟͟͞☆Tropes:

he fell first but she fell harder

sunshine (him) x stars (you)

-͟͟͞☆Playlist:

feels like by gracie abrams

cloud 9 by beach bunny

-͟͟͞☆I ship you with Sam Winchester! You have just enough fire to keep Sam on his toes, but you guys both have a common love for knowledge and a generosity for others. You'll keep him grounded when he gets lost in the drama, and he'll always have your back when things become dire.

-͟͟͞☆Headcanons:

You are always reading the same books, and at some point Dean (while denying being a nerd), gets a little jealous so you both invite him to join your pseudo book club.

If you had a nickel for each time Dean caught you and Sam getting handsy in the library, you'd have two nickels. Which you'd then give to Dean for becoming scarred.

-͟͟͞☆Tropes:

reigning trivia night winners

whatever when harry met sally are

-͟͟͞☆Playlist:

just breathe by pearl jam

the night we met by lord huron

#ship exchange #i ship you #match exchange #marvel #avengers #harry potter #supernatural #spn #bucky barnes #george weasley #sam winchester

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thegigilwriter · 8 months ago

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16 | “Danger & Star, Rooster & Angel” — Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Female Mitchell OC

Summary. 26-year-old Lucy Asa Mitchell did not know what was in store for her when she first bumped into Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw. After an instant mutual connection followed by a sweet whirlwind romance that swept both their feet, Lucy found herself being immersed deeper into Bradley’s world of the Navy, F-14s, and deployments. What she didn’t expect was finding was the answer to an elusive part of her past — the identity of her long-lost father.

Chapter Summary. After an eventful day at work— an annoying co-worker and word of a possible advancement in her career, Lucy spends some quality time with Nat.

Masterlist

Keywords/Warnings: Inaccuracies about marine biologists, implications of sexism, fluff

16 | Lucy’s Surprise 💐

September 27, 2023

“Great dive fellas,ˮ Dr. Agnes Foster announced. “Weʼre docking soon, now listen up...ˮ

Lucy was last to arrive on the stern. Lifting her scuba mask from her eyes and wiping the excess water from her face, she sat herself on the precipice of the boat. She expertly slipped off her fins and slightly lowered the zipper on her bodysuit.

“Ugh, Diego.ˮ Lucy sighed as she picked up the abandoned set of fins nearby and set off towards the main deck with the others. A hand reached out to her as she rose and she beheld Chenʼs kind face.

“Thanks,ˮ Lucy smiled taking his fingers as she came aboard. “Diego left these again.ˮ

Chen nodded, taking his fins from her hand as they set off to the final conference of the day. Chen Zhao was a character who seldom spoke — especially when it came to the ladies. He was a little older than Sam with inky black hair, thin eyes, and a broad nose. He was the tallest of their bunch and spoke the most languages, which ironically for such an introverted individual, was is favorite hobby. Chen was brilliant with tech and research, and alongside Sam — they were quite the pair to be reckoned with.

“Where the hell have you two been?ˮ Dr. Agnes squinted with her hands on her hips. “I told you not pick up after Diegoʼs shit, Lucy.ˮ

“They were about to float out to sea, Doctor.ˮ

“Then so will his paycheck!ˮ She hissed. “Now get your asses down here — we need to prep for the upcoming conference in Japan. Our research is one of two chosen in the entire North America continent...ˮ

“Thanks wifey,ˮ Diego winked beside her. Lucy rolled her eyes. Far before Lucy had met Jake ‘Hangmanʼ Seresin, she already had the pleasure of working with Diego ‘The Tigerʼ Alcaraz. Aside from Dr. Foster, Diego was the oldest— 37-year- old bachelor from Tarifa, Spain, known for his sixth sense for whales and his amorous reputation among women. Heʼs 6ʼ0, sandy-eyed, blue-eyed, fit, and well- articulated. There are rumors that he once modeled and acted to pay off his student loans. He loves to write and heʼs mostly harmless... but he did have a tendency to pick on Lucy when he feels like it from time to time.

“... Now on the matter of the presentation,ˮ Dr. Agnes announced. “This year, I have decided that one of my associates... will join me on stage.ˮ

Silence ensued the space.

“But... only research heads are permitted to do so,ˮ Sam raised. “Doctor — whatʼs going on?ˮ

Dr. Agnes casted her eyes downwards and took her glasses from the bridge of her nose and placed on of its legs between her teeth.

“...youʼre not retiring, are you?ˮ Sam asked.

“No,ˮ she sighed. “But Dr. Murphy will.ˮ

“Youʼve been asked the Director position,ˮ Diego said. “I thought Dr. Murphy retiring was only a rumor!ˮ

“Doctor...ˮ Lucy breathed. “If thatʼs the case... then you would be the first woman Director of Umi— in history.ˮ

“It isnʼt final,ˮ Dr. Agnes spoke slowly. “Iʼm in the running with another esteemed individual whose identity I will not be disclos—“

“Itʼs Dr. Abrams,ˮ Diego informed confidently. Dr. Agnes glared at him.

“I will be neither be confirming nor denying that,ˮ she ignored. “But I just want to make sure that in the event that I do become Director, I would like to leave this research group in the best hands — and I would like to make known those two individuals whom I am considering for... right now.ˮ

They waited with bated breath, and in that moment, Lucy stared at the faces of her fellow associates. Chen and Diego would make the most sense. Diego has worked with Dr. Agnes the longest and had both an amazing applicable and theoretical understanding of cetology and the nature of their research. Chen on the other hand was simply brilliant. Whenever Dr. Agnes needed something typed up — a proposal, a report, a finding — she always went to Chen and he always got it done in no time. Not to mention, because of his tech savvy background, Chen would have the upper hand of using new technology that would further the reach of not only the research of cetology — but of other fields. The man was also basically an encyclopedia of marine biology!

“Diego and Lucy.ˮ

Lucy froze. Her heart had stopped, not quite comprehending the names that had just come out of Dr. Agnesʼ lips.

“The conference is at the end of March in Tokyo. More details will be communicated in the near future. For now... gird your loins.ˮ On that note, they all felt the ship dock at Umi and Dr. Agnes acknowledged them with a nod before exiting — then everyone shared an exhale.

“Congratulations Lucy,ˮ Sam smiled. “I knew youʼd get it.ˮ Chen also came up behind her, patting her shoulder fondly.

“Not so fast, Trace.ˮ Diego tutted. “Lucy isnʼt the only one with the ballot in the hat.ˮ

“Right,ˮ Sam rolled his eyes. “Diego ‘Peacockʼ Alcaraz is.ˮ

“You know itʼs Tiger!ˮ He countered fiercely. “Besides, I have seniority — the position is rightfully mine. The only reason why Lucy is in the mix is because sheʼs a gir—“

“Are you sure you want to finish that?ˮ Sam spoke. “Because if I remember, Lucy kicked your —“

“Leave him be Sam,ˮ Lucy sighed. “I will not dignify what he just said with a response.ˮ

Diego smiled. “Youʼve grown quite a bit to be an amiable little lady Lucy,ˮ he chuckled. “Have to admit... I kind of wished you were still the spitfire I first met... but of course things happen in life — and with Ford and all... I guess youʼve just lost that fire.ˮ

Sam considered Lucy carefully, her eyes defiant but her stance calm as she began to fix her belongings into her tote and head towards the dock.

“Maybe you need some other things to occupy your life, so wouldnʼt have to hold on to this promotion?ˮ He goaded.

Just then, as she stepped out from the ship, she was met with young red-headed girl in denim shorts with a bouquet of flowers.

“Hi,ˮ she spoke nervously. “Are you Lucy Mitchell?ˮ

“Yes?ˮ she replied.

“These are for you... from a... Bradley Bradshaw?ˮ

All suffocating feeling gripping her instantly washed away when she first whiffed the scent of the babyʼs breath, the assortment of colored-roses, and, daisies wrapped in pretty crepe paper.

“Sign here please,ˮ she smiled and Lucy did as directed. Behind her, Sam was smirking widely at Diegoʼs amused expression. Chen approached her.

“Those are beautiful,ˮ he said quietly.

“Thank you, Chen.ˮ Lucy smiled at the flowers. Sam followed, ignoring Diegoʼs nosy stare. Chen pointed to something concealed in the babyʼs breath.

“Whatʼs that?ˮ Sam remarked as Lucy retrieved the mystery items.

“Tickets to the Monterey Bay Aquarium,ˮ Lucy breathed. “And... a Coldplay concert in Santa Clara.ˮ

“Ooh, lucky! The Aquarium has a new one-of-a-kind Into the Deep Exhibition! Plus Coldplay front-row tickets— and itʼs this weekend!ˮ

A small placard revealed itself among the tickets.

Happy Birthday, Angel

Pack your bags. This is non-negotiable.

Love, Daddy

Lucy blushed, hiding the writing hastily out of sight.

Lucy stepped out of the foyer, donning a some dark wash denim shirts, sandals, and a breezy pale blouse. Her salty beach waves were held up with a pearly clamp and she had on a pair of one of Francescaʼs oversized sunglasses. She was about to send Bradley a text when a silver sedan pulled up in front of her and rolled down the driverʼs window — revealing Nat in a cute sundress.

“Hi,ˮ Lucy smiled. “Are you picking Sam up? Heʼs working overtime, today.ˮ

“Iʼm picking you up Luce,ˮ she replied. “Bradleyʼs stuck at work and he gave me his card to get our nails done. Get in!ˮ

Lucy went around to the passengerʼs side just as Nat was clearing out the seat and throwing things at the back.

“You can put your tote and flowers at the back too,ˮ she told her. “Sorry for the mess.ˮ

“My carʼs a disaster too,ˮ Lucy laughed. “Youʼre fine.ˮ

Nat chuckled as Lucy strapped herself in and the car was on drive, exiting the parking lot.

“Nice hair,ˮ Nat remarked. “You guys went for a dive, or something?ˮ

“Oh yeah,ˮ Lucy grinned. “Love the water, hate the paperwork.ˮ

“I hear that,ˮ Nat nodded as she stopped at an intersection. “So... any salon you regularly go to?ˮ

“No...ˮ she replied, staring at her nails — weathered and short. “I donʼt really get my nails done unless Iʼm with Francesca or thereʼs a family thing...ˮ

“Thatʼs okay,ˮ Nat smiled, turning left into a boulevard. “We can go to my girl.ˮ

“Hey... does Bradley really intend for us to get our nails done?ˮ

“Well...ˮ Nat frowned a little looking over at Lucy. “If youʼre not comfortable with that we can always do something else, babe. We can get something to eat or shop a little...ˮ

“Thank you Nat, but I think Iʼd rather just go home...ˮ Lucy sighed.

“Are you feeling, okay?ˮ Her brow creased with concern.

“Iʼm okay...ˮ

“Cʼmon now Luce, this may work with Rooster but it wonʼt work with me...ˮ

Lucy conceded, sighing.

“Iʼm in the running for a promotion—“

“Thatʼs great!ˮ Nat exclaimed. “All the more reason to celebrate— Wait. Whatʼs wrong?ˮ

“Itʼs just something really stupid that a coworker made me think. Itʼs nothing. Never mind.ˮ

“You come from one of those families, huh?ˮ Nat spoke. “The kind that made you feel if you pretend your problems arenʼt there, then itʼll all be better?ˮ

Lucy averted her gaze in her direction.

“My grandparents were like that,ˮ she continued. “Thatʼs why I never really know my dad as I should have. Heʼs been shut like a clam all my life... But I also learned from Rooster... itʼs not really obvious... but heʼs a little clueless when it comes to you, you know?ˮ

“Itʼs okay,ˮ she smiled. “That there are some things youʼd rather not tell anyone... I mean thereʼs a lot about me Iʼd rather take to my grave. But... donʼt make him feel that youʼre pushing him away, okay? He hates that. Youʼre really good to him and the sucker is a sucker for you...ˮ

Lucy looked down at her hands.

“A coworker feel made me today that the only reason Iʼm in it for the promotion is because Iʼm a girl and my boss is a girl and we were just... helping each other out.ˮ Lucy sighed. “Maybe heʼs right, you know? Diego has more years of experience than me and when it comes to whales— heʼs basically a whisperer! I wasnʼt even qualified for this team in the first place. I-I donʼt know...ˮ

“And does getting your nails done make you feel even more like a girl which in turn furthers your point?ˮ

Lucy nodded slowly.

“Okay letʼs get one thing clear,ˮ Nat replied. “This Diego figure sounds like an insecure asshole whose name sounds like it belongs to a fuckboy.ˮ

Lucy suppressed a derisive laugh.

“Lucy, Iʼve worked among men for many years and if thereʼs anything I can tell you is that you cannot change their behavior, their mentality, and even how they look at you. Thereʼs a real, inherit, biological component there... which also means that they can be and will be stupid until the end of time unless evolution says otherwise. But what you can change... is how you look at yourself. Are you capable? Lucy, are you capable?ˮ

“I like to believe so.ˮ

“Iʼm looking for a ‘yes,ʼ babe.ˮ

“Yes.ˮ

“Do you work hard?ˮ

“I do.ˮ

“Do you want this job?ˮ

“Badly.ˮ

“Then donʼt even worry about the shit that this Diego says. He doesnʼt matter in this equation, you do. You should never think badly of being a woman and neither should you apologize for it. Okay?ˮ

“Okay,ˮ Lucy replied quietly.

“Okay?ˮ

“Okay!ˮ

“What does this Diego even have on you? Why is he acting like some sexually frustrated little bitch?ˮ

Lucy laughed.

“I uh...ˮ Lucy picked at her jeans nervously. “I may have... sucker-punched him in the throat when we first met because he wouldnʼt stop asking me out,ˮ she replied nonchalantly as Nat finally pulled into what appeared to be a nail salon.

“Woah, baddie in the house…ˮ Nat stared at her as Lucy chuckled. “You know what? I donʼt know about you, but Iʼm going ultra-fem with my nails today and Iʼm not taking anyoneʼs shit for it tomorrow.ˮ

“I might just join you,ˮ Lucy smiled, ducking out of the passengerʼs side.

We all need a hype woman like Nat to pick us up on our bad days, sometimes :)) Personally I prefer not to get my nails done ‘cause I have a weird sensory issue… does anyone else have that? 😂 Anyways, gird your loins! Got a ‘whole lot of fluff (and some spice 😉 🌶️) up ahead!But first, let’s kick it off with some important deets for the plot at 17 | Birthday Wish!

Taglist: @itsarabellebabes

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