#sam x curvy!reader
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Muscular!men x Curvy!fem
Slight NSFW, Slight body image issues/insecurities, I'm self-indulging
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Something about big strong men and soft curvy women just melts my brain ❤️
Large men who are muscular and just have a large presence in the room (dobermans and golden retrievers <3). Very well can win fights and protect their pretty girl. Along with the contrast of this pretty little thing standing beside them. A woman with a soft figure, soft tummy, squishy thighs, the whole works.
These men absolutely adore seeing their girlfriend in any clothes. Especially when it shows that bit of soft stomach. Even if you're standing there all insecure and unsure. He'll be trying his best not to drool. "I love it, princess", "God, you're gorgeous", "Makes you look like a goddess".
The intimacy is top notch. That one day you decided to wear lingerie for once? You'd never seen your boyfriend pop a boner so fast. He didn't even wanna take it off, just pushing it to the side and eating your pussy while holding those squishy hips of yours down.
Treats you like a million dollar work of art. Tells you how pretty you are and reassures every insecurity that you might have. Plus the perk of feeling security and safety anytime he's near.
Slowly erasing any derogatory statements you may have received before about your weight. Getting rid of that feeling that you can't wear certain things because he loves seeing those thick thighs in the shortest skirt you can find (if you're into that sort of style <3).
So yeah, muscular men and curvy girlies have my heart ❤️❤️
Thinking about.... Simon "Ghost" Riley, John Price, Nanami Kento, Toji Zenin, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Leon Kennedy, Miguel O'Hara....and whoever you want <3
#fanfic writer#my writing#reader insert#sam winchester x plus size reader#plusize#curvy body#curvy girls#muscular men#no thought only fictional men#rambles#supernatural#jjk headcanons#cod x reader#simon ghost riley#john price#leon kennedy#nanami kento#soft tummy#headcanons#spicy writer#praise#fluff
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Curves ♡
Sam Winchester x Y/N F/reader
Summary: Sam sees Y/N for the first time without baggy clothes.
Warning: none
English isn't my first language
Please do not copy my work. Likes/Comments /Sharing are appreciated.
Here’s an very short one shot for all my curvy (girl) friends. 🩷🩵🤍 #BodyPositivity
The hunt had been vicious, leaving both Sam and Y/N exhausted and battered. After hours of fighting through the ghoul nest, Sam knew Y/N was just as drained as he was, maybe even more. So when they finally made it back to the bunker, he barely managed a tired goodnight before she drifted off to her room. There was something he wanted to say, a question he’d meant to ask her after the hunt, but the right moment kept slipping away.
He found himself standing outside her door, lifting his hand to knock, then hesitating. Maybe he’d ask her tomorrow. Or maybe… maybe he’d just see if she was still awake. As he shifted, he realized the door hadn’t closed fully, left slightly open.
Sam’s heart skipped when he saw her standing with her back to him, her shoulders slouched as she peeled off her battered flannel and set it aside. She looked exhausted, and his heart ached just a little watching her. But then her hands drifted to the hem of her shirt, and before he could think to turn away, she lifted it over her head, leaving her in nothing but her bra and loose jeans.
His eyes trailed over her figure, captivated despite himself. Her skin glowed softly in the dim light, and for the first time, he allowed himself to notice her the way he had always tried to avoid. She wasn't small and petit he knew that, she had thic thighs that filled her jeans perfectly, rounded and strong, her legs capable of power but also softness. He’d seen her sprint, leap, fight, and hold her own through countless hunts, yet here she was, curves softening the edges of her strength, making her look… beautiful.
Her chest rose and fell with each tired breath, her full, round breasts hugging the edge of her bra as she reached up, loosening her hair. A small sliver of her stomach peeked over her waistband, slightly rounded but perfect in every way. He had never understood why she hid herself beneath oversized flannels and baggy shirts—seeing her like this, he couldn’t imagine why she’d want to hide at all.
He swallowed, suddenly feeling like a teenager with a crush, feeling warmth rise in his chest as his gaze lingered on the curve of her waist, the softness of her belly, the way she filled every inch of space in her own skin with a confidence she didn’t even realize. She might not fit society’s “perfect” mold, but that’s what made her irresistible to him—she was real, she was beautiful, and she was every bit the woman he’d admired all this time, even without knowing it.
She pulled on a pair of baggy pajama pants, tugging them up over her hips, and then a loose shirt that dropped comfortably over her curves. Sam let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. As much as he loved her strength, her loyalty, her humor—tonight, he saw something he hadn’t allowed himself to see before. She was beautiful in every way, from her strong, curvy thighs to the softness of her stomach, and he didn’t want her to hide it. He only wished she’d see herself the way he saw her.
With his heart pounding, he stepped back, careful to close the door as quietly as he could, leaving her to her rest. But now he knew he had to tell her… he couldn’t keep this secret for long.
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Taglist:
@kr804573 @jackles010378 @kamisobsessed @hobby27 @kindollss @deadlydivergentgirl @winchesterwild78 @shadysoulangel @impala67rollingthroughtown @panickedbitch @livya99 @ladykitana90 @stoneyggirl2 @deansimpalababy
#fanfic#x reader#fluff#curvy body#beautiful body#natural body#body posititivity#supernatural sam winchester#supernatural sam#sam winchester#sammy#jaredpadalecki#jared padalecki
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Just Breathe- Series
Good evening everyone! here is the second chapter in the Just Breathe Series. This series was inspired/prompted by the ask that was submitted by @deans-spinster-witch to read the first chapter click here for the original post. @deans-spinster-witch was gracious enough to lend her skills in ruffing out a few of the mishaps in chapter one, and I will post that updated version at some point and link it, and did the same for this second chapter.
Here is the original ask for a refresher.
Ask from @deans-spinster-witch:
Tell me about Dean falling in love with a girl who has long covid - maybe they met when he saved her from a monster and they became friends, she occasionally helps him with research or patches him up if he gets hurt. He doesn’t hear from her for a while, and when he goes to check on her, he finds out she’s in the hospital with Covid - a monster he can’t save her from. He realizes he loves her, but may lose her. After she gets out he keeps coming to check on her because he knows she tires easily/has trouble breathing at times.
This second chapter is going to start with a bit of time jump, but don’t worry we got flashback a plenty to fill in the gaps. Multi POV between the main character, Y/N, and Dean Winchester, mentions of Sam Winchester. This is angst, sweet/fluffy, swearing, implied sexy times. Oh and word count is at 7,250-ish, sorry but not sorry.
Sadly the Winchesters are not mine, but the story is so please don’t steal and post as your own. But likes, reblog, and comments are always welcome. As always any mistakes like grammar, spelling, function is also all mine, so be kind when pointing it out, I do my best.
I would like to know if you like this chapter would you want to see a third chapter? or maybe a prequel to answer any questions you might have regarding Y/N and Dean? Let me know.
Thank you again for reading, and you would like to send me a prompted or story idea, send it my way.
Happy Reading
Time Jump to 4 months ahead.
Y/N POV
Shit, Shit, Shit! Where the hell are my keys! You yell out in frustration as you move frantically around your house, looking for the one thing that you need to get to your appointment on time. Tossing the pillows from the couch, goddamn it! You were never like this, ever since COVID, your short term memory has been foggy to put it nicely. Resorting to keeping both a paper list and digital one on your phone, is your new normal. Walking into a room to do something, and instantly forgetting what you came for. Case in point, not remembering where you put your goddamn keys!
You hate running late, you pride yourself on always being early to things, and this appointment was an important one. Walking into the kitchen, you start to look in the not so obvious places. Opening up the fridge, nope not in there. Pull open the freezer next, yep there they are, right next to the pint of mint chip ice cream that you just had to have yesterday at like 11 pm. Only to then be disappointed that you now can’t stand the taste of your once favorite ice cream, fuck you COVID!
Ugh, seriously, you are going to be the death of me, you think. Grabbing your keys, you push the freezer door closed, and head off to the hospital for your fourth month CT scan. Locking the door behind you, the crisp air of fall hits you. God how you don’t want winter to come any sooner then it has too. Winters in Michigan can be brutal, especially on the coast line. Pulling your light jacket close to you, you quicken your pace and get into your jeep to start up the car quickly, and pull out of the driveway. Not noticing the very familiar black impala parked about three houses down.
****
You make it with time to spare, as you wait in the waiting room after checking in, you try your best to calm yourself. Fiddling with your phone, you find that scrolling through Instagram is getting you nowhere and your emails have been radio silent for months now. Exhausted, you put your phone away, you look around the room. For mid morning it's not too busy, the daytime talkshow mixes in with the white noise of the hospital. It's so beige, beige carpet, walls, even the uncomfortable furniture is beige. It makes sense, given it's a hospital; money should be spent on actual patient care, not on the latest interior furnishings., But still, at least get some interesting artwork. Looking to the piece across from you: an abstract painting of paint strokes in grays, blues, and you guessed it, beige.
“Ms. Moore?” The nurse's voice pulls you from your thoughts, and you look up to see her standing at the entryway in blue scrubs, dark brown hair pulled back, with a kind smile.
“Yep” you reply to her, but you're sure she would have guessed that was you, as your head snapped at attention when your name was called. “Hi”, giving her a smile as you walk towards her.
“Hi,” she replies, “can you tell me your last name and date of birth?” She starts walking down the hallway, looking at your chart, the path was second nature for her. You rattle off your last name and birthday for her, then she stops just off from an open doorway, “right in here.” Letting you walk in first.
She takes a seat at a desk, swiping her badge to start keying in some information. “So, here for your four month CT scan.” she states, but it also feels like a question.
“Umm, yeah, it's my second one.” You reply, still getting used to coming to the doctor more than twice a year. You only ever went if you were feeling really sick.
“Looks like the first one was clean, but we like to do a few in close succession when someone has had a severe case of covid.” she explains, her eyes are kind, and reassuring, “I am sure this one will be just as good, and then hopefully the doctor will schedule them farther apart.”
She must see the worry on your face. Not sure how to respond, you just nod your head. She takes your vitals, asks if anything else has changed since your last visit, and if there were any other concerns you wanted to discuss today. “No, I don’t think so.”
Typing a few more things in the computer, and then swapping her badge again to lock the computer. “I am surprised your brother is not here with you today.”
“What?” You're taken aback by this, brother, does she mean Dean? How would she know about him? Was it in your chart? You don’t remember adding him as your emergency contact.
She can tell you are put off by this. “Sorry, I should have re-introduced myself. I was your nurse when you were in here with covid.”
“Oh, yeah, sorry, I should have…”
“No, it's fine. Honestly, I wouldn’t expect you to remember me.”
Thinking back to that time, she does seem familiar now, “well it's nice to see you again…” struggling to remember her name quickly, but not inconspicuously looking at her badge, “Bridget.” This gets a laugh out of her, and you do the same. “I was happy to see your name on the schedule today, and I thought you were the one with the very cute, and very attentive brother. That's why I am surprised he is not here.”
Ah yes, Dean, not being here. That is a long, long story that you're sure she does not want, nor has the time to hear right now. You give her a forceful smile, “Yeah, Dean, he has something today, so just me.”
Her smart watch goes off, and she looks at the time, “well we should get you down to CT. After your scan, we will come back here and the doctor will be with you to go over the results.” She gets up, and you follow.
****
The wait feels like forever, and in the small exam room with nothing to look at but an exam table -and beige walls - you were lost in your head. Worrying about what if they found something, what if you developed lesions, or anything that could compromise your health. God, how you wish Dean was here, or even Sam. Someone to hold your hand and distract you from the impending doom and dark thoughts that were creeping in. Dean would distract you with lame jokes, or stories about how Sammy was terrified of doctors. He would get you to smile anyway he could, probably go so far and raid the supplies of tongue depressors and cotton balls, saying something like “they don’t need all of them, do they?”
“Ms. Moore, how are we today?” The doctor's voice breaks up your fleeting thoughts of Dean, as if he was right there, but as soon as the man in the white coat opens the door and steps through, Dean disappears.
“Umm, good, at least I hope so.” You reply, wanting to keep the pleasantries short, let get to the point so you can get out of here.
He takes a look over the file, and then pulls up the scans on the computer. He seems to be taking forever, did he not look at them beforehand! Come on man just tell me already! “Everything looks good, I am not seeing any growth of lesions or scar tissue from the tube.”
Relife floods your body, letting out a sight, “oh that great news, so I am done with coming in?” you hope so, wanting to never see this place again, at least for a while.
He turns to face you, his dark brown eyes are kind, but you can tell right away he is not going to give you the answer you want. “Not yet, but we can push them to every six months.”
Okay, twice a year, I guess that is a compromise you can take, “okay, so I will see you in the spring.” Starting to get up to leave, but he stops you.
“In two months, we can start doing six month visits. I want to see you again one more time in two months. If that scan is clean then we push them to six month visits.” He explains.
You sit back down in defeat, you're going to be back here in two months, really! You know you can’t take your frustration out on him, he is just looking out for your health and doesn’t want to miss anything. “Okay.” Slightly defeated, wanting nothing more than to curl up on the couch, and sleep for the next two months away.
Giving your hands a reassuring pat, “two months will fly by I promise. Is there anything else you want to discuss today? Still having some memory issues?”
You know that you should be honest with him, that you think you have gotten worse since Dean left, but honestly are you sure? He did so much for you in that short time, maybe, you were like this before, and he just didn’t point it out. Plus you just wanted to go home, what really could he do anyways? “Nothing new on that. I think I just need to get back to my normal routine and I will be fine.”
Getting up from his chair, “Sounds good. I will send Bridget back in, she will get you set up for your next appointment. We will see you in two months. Have a good day.” shutting the door behind him. You're back alone in that quiet room.
Alone, you're alone, once again. You can feel the panic start to creep in. Alone, and even though the scan was good, he still wants you to come back. Alone, no one to hold your hand, no one to make stupid jokes. You did this to yourself, you know that, he would have stayed, you pushed him…
“Alright, Doctor says two months humm.” Bridget's voice breaks through. It's light and airy. Trying to make the situation as pleasant as possible. As soon as she sits down, she can tell you're not alright, “Hey, what's wrong?” She asks, setting down the chart, and focusing on you.
Feeling a tear run down your cheek, fuck why are you crying. “Umm…it's nothing….yeah two months…” You take a ragged breath, pushing all your emotions down, down, down, to the deepest part of your soul where they should always live. You can cry when you get home. Suck it up for two more minutes!
“Hey, talk to me, what’s going on.” She is not letting you wash this away, she grabs the tissue box, and holds it out for you to pull a couple out of the box. “Your scan was clean, the doctor is just being cautious that's all.”
“I know it's just…I really wish he was here….”
“Dean,” she replies, filling in the blanks. You nod at this, and wipe your eyes and face. “I am sure if you talk to him, he will come to the next appointment.”
Oh if she only knew, but you couldn’t lay this all out on a complete stranger. Again she just wants to do her job, and move on to the next patient, you're taking up too much of her time. “I am sure you're right.” Taking a few ragged breaths.
She gives you a reassuring smile, and turns to the computer to book your appointment, reminding you that you can always change it to accommodate if Dean can’t make it this time. “I could tell he really cares for you. Even in the short time I saw him, he wouldn’t leave your side for anything. Practically had to kick him out every night when visiting hours were over.” Trying to make the situation light, and hopefully get a smile back on your face.
Giving her a short laugh, “yeah that sounds like Dean.” You can see it, him waiting until the last possible second. A security guard to escort him out.
Both of you get up, and she walks you to the door, and down the hall towards the exit. Seeing you coming back around, she decides to let you in on a little secret. Stopping you before opening up the door to the waiting room she leans in slightly. “Just between you and me, I knew he wasn’t your brother.”
“What….I mean…no he is….” You stammer out, hoping that she wasn’t going to bust you for…something, you're not sure? But still not wanting to get into trouble.
“Don’t worry dear, it's fine.” She quickly replies, trying to calm your fears.
You let out a sigh of relief, “How did you know?”
“Two things. One he just pulled on my heartstrings so much that I figured what would be the harm in him sticking around, even if he wasn’t related. Plus, if I was ever lucky enough to have a guy look at me the way he did to you, I would want him to be by my side every second.”
Her smile is contagious, and although you're still doubting that what you feel for Dean would ever be reciprocated, now is not the time to hash it out with her. “What was the second?”
“I may have heard him one night on the phone with someone, saying he couldn’t lose you, that he needed to tell you that he was in love with you.'' She says matter of factly, pushing the door open and waiting for you to walk through.
*******
Dean POV
He watches as she pulls into the driveway and shuts off the car. He had followed her from a safe distance from the hospital to the store, and then back to her house. She didn’t notice once, even though he had taught her in the past how to spot a tail. Did she get bad news? Maybe it's the COVID that is affecting her hunter instincts? Fuck, if thats the case, what else could she be missing? Is it stupid and desperate of him to be following her, and watching from a distance? Maybe, but also not, if she is not noticing simple things like him following her. What if Lucifer, or one of his henchmen, came after her? Anxiety just thinking of irrational attacks on you causes his chest to tighten as he pulls back into the parking spot a few houses down.
He should be a man and go up to you, talk to you, and see you face to face. He missed you, your smile, your laugh - fuck, everything about you. He knows he screwed up. As soon as he did what he did, he wished he could have taken it back, but the damage was done. He kept saying it was for the best, that you would forgive him, and move on. But you can’t forgive him unless he stops being a little stalker and owns up to what he did.
Flashback to the night of the big blowup. Dean POV
Standing there, staring down the closed door, you wish right now you had superpowers to see through the door and see if she’s alright. Hell, you don’t need to be a superhero to know she’s not. You're just wondering what brought this on. “Y/N, come on, talk to me” you plead, softly knocking on the door. “I am sorry…I don’t mean to…” your rambling stops when you hear soft sobs from the otherside of the door.
“Just go away Dean!” She yells between sobs. “I can’t breathe with you here… I can’t…”
You grab the door knob, fear and pressure weighing down on you to get to her, to hold her. Most importantly, to make her understand that your overbearing protectiveness is coming from a place of needing to be in control, that you care for her, and need to protect her “Y/N, please just open the door, let's talk? I promise I will ease up, I can do better.”
You can hear her give a small laugh at that, you're about to question her on this when your phone goes off. Screw it, let it go to voicemail, she is more important than anything else. “I am not giving up on you, on us. You have to come out eventually.”
Your phone stops ringing for a second and then starts back up again. What the Hell? “You should answer that, Dean.” She states without hesitation, but with an undertone of sadness.
Letting out a sigh, you turn around. “Fine if you want to talk via phone, fine.” Walking away from her door into the living room, you pick up your phone from the coffee table. To your surprise it's not her name across the screen, but Sam’s. “What?” you bark out in frustration, not really wanting to talk with him right now.
“Dean, back off.” Sam says matter of factly. No pleasantries, just straight to the point.
“She called you? Why?” Confused as to why she is including Sam on this.
“She just needs some space, Dean, I think it's time you come back. Jody called and…” Sam calmly says, trying his best to diffuse the situation from the other side of the country.
“No, Sam, I am not leaving her! I can’t lose her again, I won’t… I love her, man…”
Your back is to the hallway, so you don’t notice Y/N standing there, listening, hearing what you should be confessing to her and not your brother. You don’t see her wondering why can’t you just say what you feel? Why can’t you just let down your guard with her and tell her?
*****
The slamming of a trunk pulls Dean back to the present, and he looks up to see you carrying an arm load of groceries. Of course you would do it in one trip. He shakes his head, remembering that you never like to take more than one trip from the car to the house. Your logic always being, as you told him, I am a single girl, I can do it in one go. He watched as you held the screen door open with your butt, as you switched all the bags to one arm so you could open the door with the other. Looking away once you're inside, Dean notices it’s about 20 minutes since you pulled in the driveway. Had you been sitting there this whole time? You have only gone to the hospital and store, but still your energy must not be back to what it used to be.
Maybe he should check, make sure you're doing okay. Look in the window really quick. Getting out of the car and walking the short distance, he looks over to your car to see that you still had some toilet paper and paper towels in the back seat. Knowing that you would be back, he decides to help you out. Opening up the door as quietly as possible he grabs the items, and takes them up to the door. Putting them in between the screen door and main door, he turns around to leave.
His eyes look in the kitchen window, to see you putting away your items. Your back is to him, so you don’t notice. You seem lost in your own world, on auto pilot putting things away. Dean takes a moment to appreciate that he can see you up close. His eyes scan the room, noticing the post-it notes all over. He never remembers you having so many of them before. He can’t read what they say, but they are everywhere; on the cabinets, counter tops, table, Was your memory getting worse?
Panic, and anger - at himself more than anything - sets in.
*******
Y/N POV
“I love her Sam, I am in love with her…I can’t…no I won’t lose her, I need to tell her how I feel…”
“You don’t love me, Winchester” your voice stops Dean from rambling on the lies that you know, in the end, he doesn’t mean.
Dean turns to see you standing there, your eyes red from crying. But you're not crying now; no, now you look pissed, like you want to kick some ass - and Dean’s is the closest one. “Got to go Sam.” Dean quickly says, ending the call. “What do you mean I don’t love you. Of course I do, I….”
You hold up a hand, and stop Dean from saying anything more. “No, you don’t. People like me, we don’t have sexy knights to save us. To fall in love with us, to whisk us away, and want to play house with.” Determine to get this all out, to get your point across and make him accept reality.
“We are your best friend, the girl you call on Friday nights when your date falls through, or you strike out with the bartender. We are your ‘wing woman’, we pick you up, dust you off, and send you back out into the world. We build your confidence up, while we sit on the sidelines alone.”
“Y/N that's not true…” Dean starts to protest.
“Let me finish, I have to get this out.” taking a breath, you can see he’s hurt, that he wants to argue, to explain his side. “Yes, you care for me, but you don’t love me, and you're not In love with me. You're in love with this idea of a life outside of hunting, you love the idea of playing house.” Closing the gap between you, even though you know better than to get this close to him. You're playing with fire, but you're desperate to feel him.
“You're right, I am in love with the idea of an apple pie life. But I want that life with you, no one else.” Dean interjects before you can shut him down, shut down what is going on between you two before it can even start.
Taking a chance, he grabs your hand and brings it up to his chest and places it over his heart. “Can’t you feel my heart? It’s racing for you. It always has, it always will.”
Feeling the softness of the white t-shirt between your fingers, you take a breath and inhale the smell of him. “Sooner or later we both know this won’t be enough, that I won’t be enough.” You talk to his chest, not wanting or able to look him in the eye, your voice low and shaky. “You're going to leave me, sideline me, and only blow through town when you need something.”
“That's not true! You have always wanted your own life. I always wanted to protect you as much as I could. The things that Sam and I deal with, the people and monsters we hunt, if anything ever happens…you are a vulnerability that they will exploit. I know it.”
“Maybe. Even more reason why you have to go…and never come back…” Glancing up to see the gut punch you just delivered written on his face. You try to take a step back.
Dean won’t let you go, bringing a hand around your waist, holding you. “What?! No! I won’t cut you out of my life. I now know I was stupid for ever doing that. For letting you live alone, or at the very least, not in the same state as the bunker.” He practically commands, with no hesitation. How could you think he would ever agree to this?
“Y/N, I need you in my life. You can’t deny that there is something between us.” His words are sweet, his voice is low as he leans into you. His breath fans over your face, as his hands caress your cheek. “Please, I need you.”
His lips are so close to yours, that if you lean ever so slightly, you would finally know how soft his lips are. Would they fulfill your fantasies? God, maybe you should live in this fantasy for as long as you can, screw being logical. Let it be a future Y/N problem, present Y/N wants to know what it's like to be wanted by Dean Winchester. “I…Dean…”
*******
Y/N and Dean POV
“Dean, what are you doing here?” Your voice pulls him from the memory of that night, and he looks to see you standing at the door, one hand holding open the screen door.
Oh fuck, well, this wasn’t the plan at all. Giving her a smile, “Hey Y/N, I was in the neighborhood…thought I would…”
“So you're stalking me now?”
“Hehe, no, I said I was in the neighborhood, wanted to see how you are…you look good.” He says, letting his eyes look at you. You did look good, but tired, your eyes didn’t shine like they normally did before; the spark, the hint of twinkle is gone.
“Liar, I look like shit, but thanks.” You quip, knowing that you don’t look good at all. Wearing a ratty hoodie and jeans, you opted for comfort over trying to impress anyone. “Well, thanks for stopping by.” You say, giving him a fake smile and turning to walk back in the house.
“Umm…Y/N, I could, I mean Sam could use your help with something, he knew I was going to be passing through and wanted me to stop by and ask for some help.” Quickly thinking on his feet, he creates an excuse. He didn’t want to leave yet, this is the most he has talked to you since that night. He would be damned if he was going to let you leave so soon.
You turn back to look at Dean, trying to gauge if he was telling the truth or not. Sam had your number, and you were still speaking to the younger Winchester - he didn’t break your heart and live up to everything you knew would happen. “Why didn’t he call me?” You question, wanting to make Dean work for it. He wasn’t getting in that easy!
He takes a few steps towards you, “well, like I said, he knew I was in the area.” One step lower from you, his green eyes lock with yours, silently pleading with you to let him in. “He wanted me to pick up a lore book on Pixies, and said you had a copy that we don't have in the library.”
“Fine, come in. I will go grab it.” You reply, turning away from him, letting him catch the door before it slams in his face.
Dean shucks off his jacket and boots, and looks around while you go back to find the book. He can now see the post-its in detail, reminding you where your keys, jacket, bag should be put. Making his way to the kitchen, cabinets are labeled with what should be in them: dry food, dishes, silverware. Daily schedule on the fridge. “Having fun snooping?” Your sarcastic tone has him turning on his heels to see you standing in the doorway with a book in hand.
“Umm…sorry…” he says sheepishly, hating that he got caught. He can see you're not amused, and he is really going to have to lay on the charm to win you back.
“Yeah, well at least I am keeping the post-it company in business. Here is the book.” You say handing it to him.
Dean takes it, and looks at it, giving it a nod, “Thanks, yep this is it.”
“Okay, well, you better get going, since Sam is in ‘desperate’ need of it and all.” Your voice is flat, not in the mood to deal with him. “You know where the door is.” You add, just turning that knife even deeper.
“Look, Y/N can we talk?” Dean can tell you're not your usual self, and he really wants to get you back.
“Oh now you want to talk? You sure as hell didn’t want to talk for four months. Didn’t want to talk when you woke up the next morning regretting that kiss, regretting what we said to each other, the promises you made.” You snap at him, the frustration building in you. Why does it always have to be on his time? God you were just getting over him, right?
“I know. I was a jerk, it was a dick move, and I am sorry.”
“You're sorry, really?That's all you have to say?” Turning away from him, just looking at him and his sad puppy dog face, you want to smack him. Fuck, you want to hit yourself for being an idiot that night.
******
“Dean…please…I…” You have to keep strong, tell him to go, you know this won’t end well.
“Please Y/N, You're the only good thing I have in this world, I can’t lose you.” Not waiting for a reply, his lips find yours.
They're soft, perfect, molded to fit yours, and gentle, Dean doesn’t force his way. Pulling away, when your lungs start to burn,you lock eyes with him. Lust blown, his lips slightly pink. No words are exchanged, you silently say everything you need to him at that moment, and he seems to understand. Bringing his hands to cup your face, he goes back in to kiss you more, letting his tongue swipe across your lips. You allow his tongue to dance with yours.
Fumbling your way to the couch, Dean falls back first, and you do your best not to land on top of him completely, giggling at the state you're both in. Dean looks up at you, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear, and looking up at you lovingly, “God, I love that laugh of yours.” He says, pulling you down on him. Letting you feel what you're doing to him.
“Dean, I have to be crushing you.” You protest, trying your best but failing at getting out of the vice grip Dean has on your hips.
“Nope, You're staying right here.” He says, as he starts to pepper kisses down your neck.
******
“Dean, I begged you to leave! I knew you never wanted me! And yet like an idiot, I fell for your charm and under your spell.” You grit out, turning on your heels and walking away from him. Fuck, you can’t keep doing this!
“I did ... .I do ...Y/N look at me” Dean pleads, setting the book down he follows you to the living room, grabbing your hand. “Please, let me explain.”
Turning around, you pull your hand back. His touch, like fire, like touching a hot pan. “You know, I thought for a split second you were telling me the truth. That you wanted me like I have always wanted you.” Pain radiates through you, your voice seems to be stuck behind a lump forming in your throat. God, you want to smack him, but at the same time, kiss him.
Dean’s speechless, trying to work out how best to tell you what he was thinking in that split second when he woke up in your arms that day. For one second he felt total bliss, that everything was falling into place; then reality of his life came back into focus.
“I know, it wasn’t my finest hour.”
You laugh at this, you think!? “What is there to explain? We kissed, had a pretty good makeout, groped each other over and under our clothes, but then we both agreed to take it slow. Right?” You ask for confirmation, even though you remember it all too well.
“Yes, but, Y/N, if you just let me…” Dean stumbles to explain.
“But then, I wake up the next morning alone on the couch with a note that says, ‘Hey, Y/N, Sorry, Sammy needs me, will check in soon.’”
The space between you two is nonexistent. You're trying to find anything in those green eyes of his that will refute anything you just said. Anything to explain that you're overreacting, but there is nothing. He has no rebuttal, because it's all true. He walked out on you, like his father did to him and Sam all the time. The worst part was, Dean had Sam to lean on; you were left with no one.
“Like I said, not my finest hour…” he mumbles out.
“Not your goddamn finest hour?ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!” you yell, slamming your fists into his chest and pushing him away. It does nothing to move him, and takes all your energy out of you. You stumble a bit, then lean back and sit on the arm of the couch.
“Hey, Y/N, please, calm down.'' His voice is heavy with concern, and he tries to help you up so you can sit on the couch.
“Don’t…touch…me…” You cough out. Needing water, you look to find your water bottle is nowhere. “Fuck….I…” You keep coughing, and try to get up.
“Water?” Dean questions. You nod, and try to get back up. “No, sit, I will go get it.” He tells you and quickly goes to the kitchen, and is back with a glass of water in seconds.
You down about half, the cool water helps calm you and your coughing fits. “Thanks” you mumble, not wanting to give him the satisfaction that he ‘saved you again.’ You don’t look at him as you sit down the glass and avoid him at all costs.
Dean takes this as his opportunity to tell you his side. Sitting on the coffee table so he has direct eye contact with you, he reaches for your hand. “Please, Y/N, I am truly sorry. I know I was a jerk for leaving you like that, and for never calling or coming back.”
You stare him down, not giving him an out on this one. “Go on. You will hear no objection from me on this one.” You reply.
Dean lets out a small sigh that clearly said fuck, alright here we go. “I was fucking scared, okay? I woke up, saw you in my arms, and for a split second I felt like I was home. My first thought was, this is perfection. No monster, no running the roads, crappy dinner food, and sketchy motels.”
He leans towards you, putting a hand on your knee, and lightly runs his hands up and gives you a knowing smile. “The perfect, sexy, beautiful, girl in my arms, that I can’t wait to wake up and…”
You stop his hand from getting too close to what both you and him want to touch. “Not so fast Winchester.” Knowing if he keeps going, you are definitely going to end up in a very compromising position. “No, I bet your first thought was, oh fuck what the hell did I do, and how the hell do I get out of it.”
“No, will you let me talk?. God, I see COVID can take your memory, but not your self-hatred or inability to butt in.”
You hold your hands up in a fake defense, “Please go on.” You quip back, leaning back into the couch.
Dean shakes his head, at least you’re sassing back, that is a good sign. “I got up, was going to start coffee for us, and while I was in the kitchen, Sam did call…
*******
“Hey Sammy,”
“How’s everything Dean, you kinda left me hanging? Did you and Y/N talk?” Sam asks, feeling like a schoolgirl catching up on the latest gossip between you too.
Dean takes a quick peek into the living room to make sure you're still asleep. “Yeah, everything is good. We talked and I think we are going to take things slow.” Dean explains, as he starts to make the coffee, he recounts most of the conversation between you two. Not all the details though, he wants to keep the really good stuff just for him.
Sam lets out a sigh, “That's good, I am happy for you both. But now I hate to ask.”
“What is it?”
“Look, I know you still want to take some time, until Y/N is fully healed, but Jody could really use your help. There is something in South Dakota that is running amuck, and she’s worried that Claire is going to try and tackle it herself.”
Oh Claire, how she reminds Dean of himself sometimes, headstrong and just ready to fight anything that wasn’t human. She is a good hunter, but she is young. “Umm…yeah…I am sure I can make something work….”
“Thanks Dean, I am sure it will only be a day or two, and then you can get back to Y/N. I will call Jody and tell her to expect you.” Sam says.
Saying their goodbyes, Dean hangs up the phone, and has to hold back from throwing it across the room in anger. Fuck! Not two seconds, and he’s already been pulled back into the madness. How is he going to explain this to her? She won’t believe him, she will be heartbroken again, think it's her fault, and say that she told him.
Seeing no other solution - or maybe it was that he didn’t want to wake you and see that pain in your eyes - he takes the cowardly way out.
*****
“So you went to help Jody, a friend of mine. And didn’t think I would understand?” You question him, after he explains the conversation between him and Sam.
“Yes…I guess I figure you would just see it as an excuse I came up with to leave you. Which it wasn’t, by the way.”
“But you said you would call, check in. But you didn’t! You couldn’t have been helping Jody this whole time? And even if you were, could you still have called!”
“I wanted to, but as I was driving away, I kept thinking about what you said, that you felt like an afterthought, that I blow through town whenever I need you. Take what I need and leave you with nothing.”
“So you figure, prove me right by ghosting me? Well, thanks Winchester, real fun.” You spit sarcastically, giving his knee a not-so-playful slap and getting up from the couch. “The door is still where you left it, you can see yourself out.” Fucking asshole. I need to get those locks changed tomorrow. You think, making your way to the kitchen to get some more water, to do anything but sit there and keep listening to him.
“Y/N, please. I am sorry, you're not an afterthought. The more that I kept driving, and the longer I pushed off calling you, it made it harder to call you. Because I knew as soon as I did I would lose you.”
“Funny, because the second you left, you lost me Dean. God, I woke up that morning and was devastated. Do you know how much I hate feeling like that?” Not needing him to answer, you lean up against the counter crossing your arms around yourself. Feeling the tears start to fall, you might as well go all the way.
“You know, I never wanted to be that girl, who cried over a guy, who refused to do anything but sleep on that goddamn couch for two months because it was the last place I felt safe, and whole, and seen. I could still smell you on the pillows and blanket.”
Taking a breath, you run your hands over your face. Taking another ragged breath, you work up the courage to tell him what you know he should know, but that you're scared to say out loud. “But the thing I hate the most, the one thing that makes me want to scream…is that I still love you.” You laugh at this. Its fucking absurd. Trying your best to stifle your laughter, but it keeps bubbling out of you in frustration and disbelief
Dean’s not sure how to react. On the one hand, you say that you still love him, but on the other hand your laughing like the fucking Joker. “Being in love with me is…funny?” he tentatively asks. Taking a few steps towards you, but not closing the distance.
Wiping the tears from your face, you admit quietly, “yes, because I know, no matter what, I will always let you back in. I guess I am just a masochist that way. I would rather have you in my life, and be heartbroken, than to not have you and still be heartbroken.”
Shaking your head, in disbelief that you actually said those words out loud, and to Dean no less. You look up to see him watching you, waiting. “God I am pathetic…you really should not have saved me that night…” you mumble the last part to yourself. Pushing yourself off the counter, you turn away from him, to straighten up the non-existent mess on the counter. Shit, should not have said that.
“GOD DAMN IT Y/N!” Dean’s yell booms, causing you to turn around to see Dean seething with rage. Taking the last few steps towards you, he pulls you into a vice grip of a hold. “Don’t you ever say that again, do you hear me? Do you?” He commands, shaking with hurt and pain.
He’s not angry at you, he's angry that you don’t understand how much you mean to him. That you hold your life as something subpar. Pulling away slightly, he lets go so he can hold your face in his hands. “Please don’t ever think or say that I shouldn’t have saved you that night.” His green eyes, glassy with tears about to be shed, bore into yours. “You are the only good thing in my life, and I know I have a lot of work to do to gain your trust back, and that my life is messy and chaotic, but please…please….don’t ever think I would regret saving you that night.”
You nod your head in response. “Okay” you whisper, “I promise.” You were taken aback by his outburst; Dean has never raised his voice to you, or looked this broken. Then again, you’ve never been this broken, or joked about that night before either. It was a topic that neither of you ever really discussed, more of an unspoken bond between you two.
Relief seems to wash over him. His hands fall from your face, his arms wrapping them around your waist, not wanting to leave the closeness of you. “I know I have a lot of work to do, and this may be pushing my luck. But can I kiss you?” Giving you a half smile, hoping that will seal the deal.
“Fuck, there’s that Winchester charm,” you joke, smirking as well. Screw it, it's been four months without those lips. You lean in and kiss him. Letting your lips dance with his for a bit, you pull back, “just as good and I remember.” you say cheekily.
“So, should we go make some new memories on that couch of yours?” Dean gives you a wink, walking backwards towards the living room, his arms still around yours.
You have no choice but to follow him, nodding. You know that you have a lot of work to do getting over your own insecurities and self doubt that Dean will get tired of you, or that he will regret being with you. You need to have faith in him, and in yourself, that you are worthy of a happy life with him; whatever that looks like.
#supernatural#fanfic#fanfiction#dean winchester#sam winchester#fandom#supernatural fanfiction#dean x y/n#writing prompt#dean x reader angst#dean#dean fanfiction#dea#dean and sam#sam and dean#dean x#dean x you#dean x reader#dean x plus size reader#dean x reader fluff#dean x cu#dean x curvy!reader#dean w#dean winchester fan fiction#dean win#dean winchester fanfiction#dean wi#dean winchester fanfics#dean swoon#dean winchester swoon
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Red, White & True - Prologue
Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers (future x curvy Millennial Female!Reader), Pepper Potts Word Count: 1.3k Summary: "There was an idea..." Words at the heart of what brought the Avengers together. Steve Rogers is no longer an Avenger, having retired after The Snap and passed his shield along to Sam Wilson, but Pepper Potts has a new idea to bring Steve back out of retirement - but in a totally different arena.
Content/Warnings: none
Notes: This takes place in a post-Endgame scenario where Steve stays and generally most of TFATWS happened.
↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
PROLOGUE
[MAY 1 - Upstate New York]
“You know I’m always happy to come out to the farm,” Steve says, rinsing the last plate and handing it to the strawberry blonde woman so she can dry and put it back on the shelf. “I love to see you and Morgan. But what do you want to talk to me about, Pepper?”
Pepper gives him a tight-lipped smile. “Let’s go to the study,” she answers, and leads the way to the back of the modern but rustic home. She takes a seat on the couch and motions for Steve to sit on the other end.
“I was sitting right here when Tony stood over there,” she nods her head toward a spot in front of Steve, “and told me he figured out the science of time travel.”
Steve’s chest aches at her words. “Pepper…”
She holds up a hand to stop him. “No, don’t apologize. I told him that was amazing and terrifying. Then we sat here together and really talked. He told me he could stop, put a pin in it, that part of him wanted to bury the idea in a lock box at the bottom of the lake. But I reminded him that we were lucky not to have lost each other in the Blip and so many others weren’t.”
She pauses for a moment and looks to the mantle where there’s a small, retired arc reactor on display. Steve waits for her to continue.
“When I started working for him, I had no idea where it would all lead. I certainly didn’t have aspirations to date my boss or become the CEO of Stark Industries. Tony will always be the love of my life, and each day that goes by, each month, each year, I miss him, but the missing hurts less. What’s left is the whisper, the urge of the legacy of everything that’s still here and what I can do with it. I haven’t been idle, but I’ve been trying to ignore my own time travel issue, if you will.”
Steve can hardly hold himself back from scoffing. “The medical research, the humanitarian initiatives, the scientific advances you’re still spearheading, it’s just not really enough if you can’t solve for world peace,” he jokes.
Pepper cocks her head slightly. “The thing is, I have an idea of where I could start on that last one.”
Steve’s eyebrows knit together, and he studies her face. “Okay…” he knew his voice was conveying his curiosity but also his trepidation.
“Stark Industries helps a lot of people, but there are things I can’t help no matter how hard I try there. The world is in a bigger mess than science can help, only so much can be done with humanitarian work, and there’s an area that’s haunting me because I’ve tried to stay out of it for as long as I could, and I just don’t think I can any more, not and still sleep at night.”
“Well, then let’s talk about it. You know I’m here for you, whatever you need. I don’t know how you think I can help, but clearly you’ve got an idea.”
“I know you retired one suit, but I’d like you to think about another.”
“Pep-”
“Not that kind of suit,” she interrupts. “There are still some good, decent people in politics, but money has poisoned so much of what goes on - lobbyists, special interests, politicians needing to fundraise. But I’ve got money. I could fund a campaign.”
Steve frowns. “What exactly are you proposing?”
“I need a candidate, and there’s no one I would trust more than you. I want to finance your campaign to run for President of the United States.”
Steve's eyes widen, and he feels as if the air has been sucked out of the room. His mouth opens and closes, but he can’t think of any initial words to come out. He stands abruptly, his legs carrying him to the large window overlooking the serene lake outside. The late afternoon sun casts a golden glow across the water, creating a stark contrast to the turmoil in his mind.
"President?" he finally manages to croak out, his voice barely above a whisper. He turns back to face Pepper, his brow furrowed deeply. "Pepper, I... I don't know the first thing about running a country. I've been a soldier, an Avenger, but never a politician."
Pepper leans forward, her eyes bright with determination. "That's exactly why you'd be perfect, Steve. You're not entrenched in the political machine. You have a moral compass that's unwavering, and a desire to help those who need it, no matter what.”
“And sometimes I failed.”
“It made you wiser every time.”
Steve plants his hands on his hips and sighs. “Pep, I’m just a kid from Brooklyn who wanted to serve his country.”
Pepper leans forward, her eyes intense and earnest. "And you've done that, Steve. You've served this country in ways most people can't even imagine. Think about what you could do as President. The impact you could have, the changes you could make. You've always fought for what's right, even when it wasn't easy or popular. That's exactly what this country needs right now."
Steve turns back to the window, his mind racing. He thinks of all the battles he's fought, the sacrifices he's made. Could he really make a difference from the Oval Office? Or would the political machine chew him up and spit him out?
"What about my past?" he asks, still facing the lake. "The Accords, going rogue, all of it. It would all come out in a campaign."
He hears Pepper stand and approach him. She places a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Your past is part of what makes you the right person for this, Steve. You've shown that you're willing to stand up for what you believe in, even when it costs you everything.”
He can feel Pepper's eyes on him, waiting for a response. He takes a deep breath, trying to organize his thoughts.
"I appreciate your faith in me, Pepper. I really do," he begins, still facing the lake. "But this isn't like leading a team into battle. The complexities of running a country, the constant scrutiny, the compromises you have to make... I'm not sure I'm cut out for that."
"Steve, that's exactly why you'd be perfect for this. You understand the weight of responsibility. You've made tough decisions under pressure. And most importantly, you have a clear vision of what's right and what's wrong."
Steve turns to face her, his expression conflicted.
“I won’t lie to you,” she continues, “the public scrutiny will be worse, but it’s not something you’re unfamiliar with. Just like before, you’ll have people singing your praise and people ready to crucify you just for sport. But we’ll face it head-on. You won’t do any of it alone. We’ll put together a team of friends, people we trust, experts and strategists. We’ll find people outside our camp who will challenge us to make the campaign stronger. And when we get you in the White House, no president leads alone. You have a history of seeing the value in the people around you and bringing teams together. It’ll just be fighting a different fight.”
Steve thinks over her words. “In a different suit.”
She smiles. “You’ll do it?”
“Answer one more question for me.”
Pepper nods. “Anything.”
“Why do this?”
Steve sees the conviction settle in her entire demeanor, and that shift alone convinces him the rest of the way, but her words cement his resolve down to his core.
“Tony and Natasha didn’t sacrifice just to leave something broken behind. It’s time to help put things back together and try to leave a legacy of something better.”
go to chapter one: MANHATTAN & BROOKLYN
This is an idea that sparked in during the huge sleepover I hosted in July 2023, and it's been tantalizing me for a long time, but now the muse is finally ready to play with it! gee, I wonder why...
I can't wait to bring you along for the ride! This story will have 3-4 chapters, depending on where I split up the narrative. I anticipate about a chapter a week.
↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!
#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x y/n#steve rogers x yn#red white & true#aspen wrote something#countdown to chris-mas
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Booth Five (Sam Carpenter x Reader)
A/n: Here's another one, love you guys.
WC: Idfk
Warnings: smut, top!Sam, bossyish!reader, slightly public sex, thigh riding, more thigh riding, Sam in fancy work clothes
NUMEROUS visits to her favorite place after a long, hard day of work had forced Sam's ears to grow accustomed to the deafening thunder of sensual music that pumped through the hazy club.
Ever since the very first week of her new life in the the city, Sam had made sure to become somewhat of a regular at The Vanity. She made sure to commit each and every worker to memory, even went out of her way to tip a little extra every visit. It was just who she was. She loved to pay attention, and she loved to be aware.
She did not, however, love to be confused.
From her spot on a cracked leather couch, she sits with a drink in her hand, the top few buttons of her shirt undone, and she watches you move. The colored lights run over your body like waves on a shore, black lace the only thing stopping you from being fully exposed. It's euphoric, the way you move. It's familiar and free, icy hot. Sam takes a pull of her drink.
------
"You've got a private booking, honey," your boss calls as you fuss with your hair in the vanity mirror. She's a firecracker of a woman, short and curvy. The voice of a smoker mixed with the tone of a caretaker. "Booth five."
It hadn't taken you long to understand the inner workings of your place of employment. Annoyingly, nothing was ever straightforward, and booth five was not an exception to this rule.
You'd learned that an hour with one of the dancers in booth five had to cost more than your rent; which, albeit, didn't say much. It was the coldest spot in the whole club, nothing but dark red walls and a single black couch, and you couldn't really tell if it was the air vents or the dark aura that made you shiver when you passed it.
This is the first time anyone has requested for you to be in there.
"Um," your voice is steady as you turn around, smoothing a hand over non existent fabric out of nervous habit, "Is it cool if Amber takes this one?"
A beat passes.
"The patron requested for it to be you." If she notices the way your heart drops, she doesn't mention it. Only smiles crookedly and nods, effectively dismissing you from the comfort of being alone.
The beat of your heart doubles that of the music as you walk out of the room, a little unsure and a little irratic. Your heels feel too tall, your chest too tight.
Dancing was different. Dancing didn't bring forth any unwanted social interaction. Sure, there was the occasional creep, but they never really bothered you much when you could tune them out with thoughts of being beneath your covers with hot Chinese food and your cat curled up on your lap.
This was intimate. This was private and there was really no practical way of getting out of it.
You're sure you're going to pass out when you reach the outside of the booth, nothing but a thin curtain separating you from the unknown man waiting inside. Is he married? Is he demanding? Does he expect anything more than a lap dance from you?
A job is a job, you remind yourself, breathing deeply once, twice before stepping inside.
The air is charged. Static pulses around you. So its a woman. There's a woman a few feet in front of you.
She sits there, back against the couch and legs spread like she owns the place, shirt slightly unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up. She's tall and dark and has the look of someone who's grown accustomed to getting what she wants one way or another. Her eyes drop down your figure, lingering at certain parts unabashedly. They run over every inch of you slowly, methodically. She wets her lips.
"Hello." She speaks. Her voice is fire and ice. It's raspy and smooth, dark and calculated and so insanely perfect that it makes your ears ring a little.
It's your turn to say something, anything, really. You really do try to greet her, even open your mouth for a second before promptly shutting it again.
"It's reasonable to expect a greeting after one says hello, is it not?" Her brow raises. It seems that all it takes for you to gain your composure is a little confrontation.
You close the still open door and take a step forward, trapping a palpable tension in the room along with the sound of muffled music.
"Sorry about that, I just wasn't expecting... this." Amusement flashes in her eyes. "You weren't expecting a woman?" She questions, patting the space beside her and signaling for you to sit.
There's room for her to scoot over and create a comfortable amount of space between your bodies, but that doesn't seem like something she wants.
Your body moves without your mind's consent, "no, I wasnt," you answer, taking your seat.
She hums, the scent of her cologne wafting over you like a drug. "Disappointed?" she asks, bottom lip puffed out in a teasing pout.
The couch is cold beneath you, but that doesn't stop the fire from rushing to your cheeks. Nervously, you run a hand through your hair and smile, trying not to let her undeniable smoothness get in the way of yours.
"Oh, hardly," you let out a raspy huff of laughter and you can't help the way your eyes flit to her mouth.
A smirk tugs at her lips, pout dropping entirely. "Well aren't you fiery."
"Why did you ask for me?" you pry, gaze hooded.
"Why wouldn't I?" She questions, tone serious and eyes on yours. The air feels thick around you.
She truly is a beautiful woman, silky black hair and dark eyes surrounded by thick lashes. The muscles in her arms pull at the fabric surrounding them. You suddenly feel underdressed.
"Amber normally takes this booth," you offer truthfully.
Amber was a favorite amongst the club. She was all dark smiles and sinful moves. You appreciated her for her wit and ability to seem completely calm at all times; a skill you wish you had.
Her hand drops to the bare flesh of your upper thigh. "I didn't ask for Amber, did I?"
Sam had interacted with the girl numerous times. She'd been working here since that first night and was undoubtedly beautiful, but she didn't feel drawn to Amber like she did you. Her body didn't light up when she saw her like it did with you. You were different.
"What's your name?" you pry.
The heat of her gaze along with that of her palm on your thigh sends jolts down your spine. You can see the muscles in her jaw move as she grits her teeth, swallowing hard.
"Sam."
"Why did you ask for me?" you ask again, eyes on her dark and blown pupils. Your own gaze is hooded, lashes low as you look up at her.
She smiles wolfishly, teeth flashing. "Can't a girl want to get to know someone?"
"Well," you look down at her mouth, "I guess when you put it that way."
The air around you seemed to grow thick, tension lacing through it. Her aura was intoxicating, the way it consumed you so quickly, made you want to give her everything.
She hums, tightening her grip on your thigh, "For such a pretty girl you sure do ask a lot of questions," the words fall from her lips, tone low and dripping with want.
"Yeah?" You smile.
"Yes." She shoots back.
"Really?"
She ignores you, looking at you so intensely you almost think you did something wrong.
"Can I kiss you?"
You nod, maybe a little too eagerly but you can't help it. When she kisses you it's softer than you expect it to be, like she's testing the waters. Her hand runs up your thighs, teases its way to your hip and squeezes the flesh there. It makes your head spin and your heart race, heat settling in your lower stomach.
Teeth graze your bottom lip as she pulls back a little. "Come here," The woman breathes into your mouth. She guides you onto her lap, smiling and leaning further into the couch. You have to arch forward to kiss her again, something that isn't an accident on her part.
Hands grip at your waist, your hips, your ass. She's deepening the kiss like it's pushing life into her and she can't get enough. it's a needy, panting scene as her lips and tongue slide over yours.
She kisses you like you've never been kissed, skill and need intertwining into a moment that makes you dizzy. She's all soft lips and rough teeth, nipping and sucking and soothing.
The musky scent of her cologne messes with your head and you can't stop your hips from moving, seeking pressure to tame the heat inside of you.
She trails her lips down to your neck, hand pulling at your hair to tilt your head back. "That's it, baby," Sam coos, teeth scraping under your jaw, "use my leg." She shifts the two of you before you can do anything, moving you to straddle her thigh. Her lips latch onto a sensitive spot on your neck as she pushes her leg up and into you.
"Fuck," you gasp out, gripping her shoulders and arching further into her. The position gives her mouth easy access to your chest.
The fabric of your lace bra is easy for her to move to the side, baring your hardened nipple to her.
"You're so pretty," She groans beneath you, pressing her tongue to the sensitive bud.
Pleasure shoots through you and you suppress a moan at the feeling of her skilled mouth against you. She's pulling at your hips, guiding their movements as you rock into her. It's hard to remember where you are, how any of your coworkers can walk in if they want to. All you can think about is how muscular her leg is through her pants as it presses into your clit in just the right way, how strong her hands are as they grasp at your body like it's her lifeline.
It's almost embarrassing, how worked up this stranger has you. She's touching you like she knows your body, and you can feel your wetness soaking through your fabric. Truth be told, you'd been wet since she first spoke, voice smokey and addicting.
She sucks your tit into her mouth, tongue lashing at your nipple and you have to push her away before you get loud. She protests as you send her back to leaning against the couch, but ultimately keeps quiet when you bury your head in her neck to muffle your moans.
"That's it, just like that pretty girl," She whispers in your ear while you grind against her, leg rubbing your clit just right each time. "You sound so pretty."
Needy whines and sighs escape your throat, lips pressed to her neck while she pushes her thigh harder into you. She hums at the feeling, sound deep and rasped.
You would be disappointed in yourself for being so close this fast, and over the clothes no less, but you can't feel anything other than the pressure in your lower stomach building and building.
"It's so good," you admit breathily into her neck, nails digging into her upper back through the button up. You can feel the firm muscles there, and you can't help but picture them rippling as she fucks you.
"What's so good?" she asks like she already knows the answer.
Her voice sends you spiraling further, the almost taunting tone laced in her words. "The way you touch me."
She laughs lowly, "Oh? You close?" Her head turns as she presses a kiss to your cheek, you pull your head out of her neck and look her in the eyes.
"Use your hand," you order, grabbing her right wrist and dragging it towards where you want it.
The look that washes over her almost pushes you over the edge, the way she listens to your command and presses her fingertips to your clit.
The texture of the fabric rubbing against you feels overwhelmingly good, tension building in your body. You watch her with your eyes half open and your lips parted, watch as she drinks you in with her eyes.
Everything about her is skilled, the way she moves her hand in hard circles and pushes into you. Her free hand wraps around your neck gently and pushes you back a bit so that she can see more of you, your free nipple and the blush spreading across your chest. The action combined with the slight pressure on your neck makes your eyes roll back, a curse falling from your lips.
"Faster. Fuck, Sam," you tilt your head back and move with her hand, "I'm so close."
She listens so good, movements speeding up just how you asked. It feels so good, the warmth spreading throughout your body and coiling in your stomach. You're panting needily, orgasm rushing towards you, its presence overbearing.
"So bossy," She teases.
A slew of words grace your lips, body falling forward to mask the volume of your moans in the crook of her neck. She moves with precision, never once slowing down or faltering.
"Come on, baby," She urges, "cum on my hand."
It only takes a few more movements before you're doing just that, body tensing up and shuddering above her. The orgasm hits you like a bullet train and drags itself out, lasting longer than any other you'd ever had.
The feeling of her arm around your back, fingers still moving on your clit to guide you through makes it last longer. Her voice is in your head, grounding you as she whispers.
Her hand is gone from your clit and her neck is sweaty from the combined body heat by the time you pull back, shaking slightly. The reality of the situation doesn't hit you, just lingers in the back of your mind as you look at her.
"Hi," you say, hair sticking to your forehead slightly.
"Hi," She smiles sweetly back. "Sorry about the hickeys, I got a little carried away."
Your nipple hurts a little from the intensity with which she sucked at it, and you know your neck is riddled with marks.
"It's okay," you smile back, "but you'll have to be the one to let my boss know where they came from."
Her smile turns sheepish, though you can tell she doesn't regret leaving them. "Only if I can see you again," her arms tighten around your waist, lips brushing yours.
"Deal."
#sam carpenter#wlw#lesbian#melissa barrera#samantha carpenter x reader#scream#screamxi#sam carpenter x reader#sam carpenter x female reader
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i never thought you’d happen to me - 1
part two / part three
pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader
warnings: 18+ only. smut (part two), fluff, bit of angst. time travel via magic. dad!bucky and mom!reader. steve x nat. some morally dubious homemade porn viewing 💀 (part two). if i’m missing anything that should be tagged, please lmk!
words: just a bit over 6k.
notes: this idea came from a prompt post i saw not too long ago and coincidentally fell into some bingo spots for my @the-slumberparty bingo card.
fair warning: this is so completely self indulgent and a little trope overload lol but i had such a good time working on it and it was fun to write so who really cares 😌 thank you in advance for reading and reblogging! as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome and so appreciated. please let me know what you think! 🥰
It’s another late Friday night as you and the team lounge around the common room, nearly empty takeout containers scattered around the table, glasses and bottles of your drinks much the same. There’s a movie no one is watching playing on the large screen as the current conversation around you continues.
You’re not sure how telling a story from your last mission with Bucky has turned into this once again, but here you are. Another cute remark from Sam about his expectancy to be in the wedding party earns him another glare from you.
“Hey, you side-eye now but in ten years you’ll look back and realize how right we all were,” he says, elbowing Bucky slightly. “Tinman by your side,” he adds with a grin - clearly amused with himself.
“That is not my future,” you say with a humorless chortle.
“I can show you your future,” Wanda speaks from her spot on the couch, everyone turning their heads at once to look at her. She’s been unusually quiet the past few minutes - not engaging much in the conversation as she observed it instead. She takes another sip of her wine as she meets your gaze, foot swinging lazily as she keeps one leg crossed over the other.
She tilts her head at you while you eye her with a raised brow, a look of incredulity on your face.
“What?” she questions, confused at not only yours, but everyone’s, lack of response.
“Come on,” you laugh lightly, brushing her off.
“I’m serious.”
“Wanda, I don’t need to see what my future looks like to know that Bucky will be playing no part in it.”
A round of scoffs, snickers and a groan erupt from around the living room as you roll your eyes. You catch Bucky, seated across from you, doing the same as you turn your face.
“You’re all very funny, and I’m glad you’re amused with yourselves, but I can’t sit here and listen to the same inane conversation over again, soooo,” you pause for a breath, “I’m going to bed,” you clap as you stand from your spot on the couch.
“Look, I don’t speak for everyone, but I am not joking in the slightest,” Kate laughs as she leans back into her seat. Aiming finger guns at you and Bucky, “You guys,” she says, “are endgame.”
“And you, my friend, are drunk.”
Another round of laughs before the previous chatter resumes among the group, a story of misadventure now being told from Parker’s perspective, and you can hear Stark’s interjections already.
You grab your empty glass and head to the kitchen, Wanda following shortly after you.
“You’re stubborn,” she says with no preamble.
You turn with a quirked brow, “Am I?”
“Very. So much so, I think I may need your permission.”
“Sorry...uhm, for?” you ask, clearly confused.
“I think you should see it.” Your face falls slack at her words as you turn back to finish washing out your glass.
“Wanda, -” you go to laugh again.
“No, actually,” she stops you, correcting herself, “you need to see it. You’re stunting yourself. You’re constantly getting in your own way. I think it’d be good for you, to see what you can have if you finally allow it to come to you.”
You're quieted by her sincerity for a moment, half because you weren’t taking any of the previous conversation seriously, and half because you didn’t think it was something she was actually capable of doing. In fact, you still didn’t. But if she wanted to try, who were you to argue.
“Uhhh,” you begin, shaking your head lightly, “I mean, if you really want to, then, go for it, I guess. You have my permission.”
“Good,” she smiles, turning to walk back out to the other’s.
“Wow, wait,” you stop her, “like, what exactly are you gonna do?”
“Just a swap,” she says simply. “A day in the life of your future self. You don’t have to do anything, just go to sleep tonight and you’ll see.”
Your eyes narrow in thought, “...This isn’t dangerous, right?”
“No, not at all. You guys will be fine. 24 hours and you’ll wake up in your own beds, safe and sound. I promise.”
She smiles and flits away quickly. You shake your head at yourself again, still unsure what exactly you’ve agreed to. And it isn’t until you’re walking down the hallway back to your room that what she said actually catches up to you.
You guys will be fine?
You stop walking when you hear footsteps behind you, glancing back to find Bucky coming down the hall. You swallow hard and turn back around, not far from your door.
“Stalker much?” you say without facing him, earning a scoff in return.
He’s barely a step behind you now, though his sudden proximity is not all that surprising. You’ve grown used to his stealth.
“In your dreams.”
“More like waking nightmares. Every time I turn around it’s like you’re always just right there.”
“Maybe if you didn’t put yourself into jeopardy every five minutes I wouldn’t have to shadow you so often.”
You’re walking side by side and you get to your door as he speaks. You turn on him, instantly irritated.
“Are you being serious?” you level at him. He doesn’t respond. “How are you still hung up on Belarus? It was one mission. That was not on me, I didn’t fuck up. No one else saw them coming, either,”
“I did.”
“Well, sorry I’m not as infallible as the one and only Bucky Barnes,” you speak exaggeratedly, annoyance clear in your tone. “You still act like I’m some kind of liability. I’ve been careful. I’m riding a lengthy no injury streak and we’ve still yet to fail a single mission. After how many assignments we’ve been on together, you think you’d start taking me more seriously.”
“I never said I didn’t take you seriously. Just think sometimes you’re still a little too cocky for your own good.”
“For the thousandth time, I’m not clueless, Barnes. I don’t need you monitoring my every move. Not during training, not on missions, and definitely not walking down a hallway at night. I think I can handle getting to my room alone. Or is assuming that too cocky of me?” you ask with a tilt of your head, sarcasm dripping off your tongue.
You don’t wait for a response before you turn to your door and let yourself in, snapping it shut behind you.
You flick on the light and are quickly greeted by a room that is… definitely not yours. You pause for a second, taking in your surroundings before you deflate with a sigh, following it up with a deep breath. You turn the light back off and then turn back around to the door. You wait for a second longer with your hand on the handle before you force yourself to exit the room.
Just like you knew he would be, Bucky is still standing right where you left him; a stupid smirk on his stupidly handsome face.
“Wrong room,” he says.
“Fuck off,” you grumble as you walk a little further down the hall, to your actual door.
“Goodnight to you, too,” Bucky says as he continues to his own room, not far from you. You send him a glare and a “hmph” before shutting your door and getting ready for bed.
You’re not helpless. You’re not clueless. You’re damn good at what you do. But fuck if Bucky doesn’t have a knack for knocking you off kilter with a single look.
—-
It’s a soft shaking that wakes you from your peaceful sleep. You’re so comfortable, you don’t want to move - you don’t even want to blink open your eyes. But the shaking comes again. Your brows furrow as your arms tighten around your pillow and you cuddle further into it.
Only it’s not your pillow.
It takes a second for you to process that instead, it’s a warm body you’re pressing yourself against before your eyes snap open.
You look up and find a confused Bucky staring down at you.
When your eyes meet, though, there’s a bit of softness there. And as you take in his face, you relax a bit again. His presence beside you is at once comforting as it is confounding.
“What are you doing?” you both ask at the same time - only furthering your confusion.
You suddenly realize you’re still wrapped around him and quickly sit up and give him space.
“Why are you in my bed?” you ask as you rub your eyes with the palms of your hands.
“I was gonna ask you the same thing,” he says as he looks around, “but I don’t think we’re at the tower.”
You look up and blink away the fuzziness. Then it hits you.
“Oh shit,” you murmur.
“What? You know where we are?” he asks as he stands and starts looking around, inspecting the room. “Better yet, how the hell we got here?”
“Maybe…Would you believe me if I said we might possibly be in the future?”
Bucky turns and looks at you incredulously.
“Wanda,” you speak at the same time.
“For fuck’s sake,” he says as he runs a hand over his face.
“In my defense,” you begin, “when I agreed to this, I didn’t think she’d be able to do it. I also didn’t think it’d involve anyone else..”
“What do you mean you agreed to this? What is this?”
“She said I needed to see the future. It’d be good for me, or whatever, so I said okay. She said it was uh, a future swap? 24 hours. Day in the life and then I’d wake up back in my own bed the next day.”
“And you agreed to it?”
“Fuckin’, yeah, obviously,” you huff. “I didn’t think it’d be.. Real? I don’t know.”
“So, so what? We’re stuck in some unknown future for the next 24 hours?”
“What part of ‘I don’t know’ do you not understand?”
“Why would you agree to something like this without fully knowing what it is you’re agreeing to? This is exactly what I’m talking about when I say-”
“Spare me, Barnes. It’s Wanda, okay? We’re fine. It’s 24 hours, and I’m assuming that clock started when we fell asleep last night, so really it’s only…,” your voice dies down as you look to the clock on the bedside table. The time isn’t what catches your eye, though.
No.
It’s the framed photo behind it that derails your train of thought.
“No fucking way,” you breathe as you grab it in disbelief.
You stare at the photo of you and Bucky, a close up of you in a sweet embrace, adorning soft smiles as you share a chaste kiss, your left hand touching his cheek, and what you can only assume is a wedding ring sitting pretty on your finger.
This has to be some kind of dream. That’s it. You’re dreaming. Duh. Your hand moves before your mind does and you slap yourself in your face as hard as you can manage, sure it’ll wake you up and you’ll be back in the tower, in your own bed, alone.
“What the fuck?!” Bucky exclaims in surprise as you wince slightly and hold your cheek as it stings. He walks over to you, becoming more tentative as you look up at him.
“‘M not dreaming. Are you?”
“No, I’m wide awake, believe me,” he says as he gets closer. “Don’t slap me, either.”
You eye him harshly before handing him the frame.
“Well, it.. Explains why you’re here, at least,” you say, voice quieter than you intended as your thoughts were still reeling. “We’re not just in my future, we’re in-”
“Our future,” he finishes as he stares at the photo himself.
“Yeah.”
“So, our room…” he says more to himself than to you. He makes his way around the room, pulling open drawers and looking in the closet as you stand and head for the bathroom.
You meet yourself in the mirror, sure enough, you still look the same. You’re you.
Walking back out into the room, you head for the window, pulling back the curtain. As you peer out, you’re expecting to see a skyline, or city street, but instead you’re met with the view of an open yard.
You pull away from the window in surprise, “Are we in a house?”
You turn to Bucky, who turns to face you. You both head to the bedroom door, you following behind him as he takes the lead.
It’s a house. Definitely a house.
The bedroom door leads to a long hallway, three doors along the right back wall, another door at the far end opposite your own, and to the left of that, on the left wall, is another room.
In the middle of the hallway is an opening, and you and Bucky turn there without inspecting any of the other rooms.
You find yourselves in a living room, before walking into the kitchen.
“We should look around,” you say in a whisper - why, you aren’t sure.
“What exactly are you planning on finding?” he questions as you pull open a drawer, sifting around.
“I don’t know? More information. Like what we’re doing here. What we do. What year it is. Maybe we learn something and it’ll send us home sooner? I don’t know, just, something,” you answer, on edge already by being surrounded by the unknown and only growing more agitated at his every word.
“Why are you getting mad at me?”
“I’m not getting-,” you stop yourself, taking a breath, “sorry. Okay? I thought you were trying to be a dick,”
“Why do you assume I’m being a dick?” he asks, annoyed himself now.
"Because you always act like a fucking dick!", you nearly yell as you slam the kitchen drawer shut.
"Fucking dick!"
You both freeze at the high, sweet-sounding voice that comes from behind you. Your brows furrow as you glance at Bucky, his reaction to the mirthful echo much the same as yours, before you both slowly turn around.
The sight you're met with has you both frozen in shock.
A set of twin toddlers clad in matching pajamas, both of whom bear a striking resemblance to you and Bucky, are staring at you both.
You can't explain why, but your heart is gripped by the mere sight of them. It's something more than just their cuteness, it's something instinctual. How it's possible, you're not sure, but you know, somehow, that they're really yours. Future or not, those are absolutely your kids.
It seems with each passing moment, you and Bucky are left more and more stunned by how your future is turning out, but as you notice the little boy's eyes watering and the pout on his little lips as he looks right at you, you can't seem to care about anything else.
“Hey, buddy,” you squat down and hold your arms open for him, and he waddles to you right away as his eyes well more and more. He hugs you, still pouting as he cuddles into your chest and you hold him tightly as you stand, exchanging another glance with Bucky who looks nearly stupefied until the soft voice of the girl rings out once again.
Your eyes shoot to her as she twirls around clumsily, a chant of "fucking dick" leaving her lips over and over before she starts to tilt, seemingly having made herself dizzy. You're about to gasp, moving forward instinctually as you watch her wobble a bit more, but she's in Bucky's arms in an instant as he grabs her before she falls.
"Woah, there, sweetheart," he says with a small laugh as she dramatically goes limp in his arms. An exhausted breath leaves her little lungs as she breathes out the repetition one final time. She then lifts her tiny hand up to Bucky’s cheek, effectively slapping him as she plants it, blinking up at him. “What’s this?” she asks him curiously as she smooshes his face, feeling his stubble.
“Uhh…It’s hair. I haven’t shaved - Ow,” he exaggerates when she interrupts him and pats his cheek again, a bit harder this time, though you know it didn’t hurt him in the slightest. It makes the girl laugh, though.
“You should shave, Daddy,” she advises, pulling a face.
Her words pull a breathless laugh from him as he gazes down at the small girl, a lump forming in his throat as he takes everything in. He feels crazy, but he can see you in her, and he can see himself, too. Her and her brother, they both look like the perfect little combinations of the two of you. And they’re both so comfortable with you guys. So at ease and uninhibited, just like children should be..
It’s a stark contrast to how he grew up and he can’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment, of pride, knowing that he isn’t repeating the cycle he swore would die with him.
He’d stopped letting his mind wander to what if futures long ago, but when he did imagine what it’d be like to have a family of his own, this is the kind of peace he longed for. The happy, settled down future he was sure he’d never have.
And you.
Your hand has been mindlessly rubbing the boy's back in an effort to comfort him as he cuddles into you, that never faltering pout pulling every string your heart has as Bucky attends to the girl relaxing in his arms.
"Linc's sad, Mommy," the girl says, pointing at her brother. The title has you swallowing hard, your heart clenching at how sweetly she calls to you.
Linc?... Must've been Bucky, you think briefly before you gently pull him away from you slightly so you can see him better, his bleary blue eyes peering up at you.
"Why are you yelling at Daddy?" he pouts still. Your brows furrow and mouth parts on an inhale, as if you're going to answer him, but nothing comes out as you try and think of what you can say. His innocent question stumping you.
"It's alright, pal, we were just kiddin' around," Bucky offers as he gets closer to you both. You look at him, a bit guilty but thankful for the save.
"Can we have pancakes, Daddy?" the girl asks as she wriggles around like a worm in his hold.
"Pancakes! Please!" Linc smiles as he continues hanging onto you, seemingly happy with Bucky's defense of you - any qualms he had long forgotten as he’s now focused on the mention of pancakes for breakfast.
"Sure," you answer for him, acquiescing easily with a smile before looking to Bucky with wide eyes.
You’re not entirely sure how exactly this all happens, but somehow you end up married with two kids. As shocking as it is, and as confused as you are about how, a part of you is grateful - maybe even happy - that Bucky is here. He may be an ass a lot of the time, overbearing and micromanaging your every move, but you guys have been through hell and back together. Partners from the very start of your time as an Avenger. If you’re being honest, this future makes more sense than you previously wanted to admit.
In an attempt to not freak out the twins, you know you have to play the part. Act like nothing is out of the ordinary and that you are indeed their mom. You are, technically, but you don’t have any idea what the hell you’re doing or what’s wholly needed of you. You’ve nannyed before, though. You know the basics..
"Have we brushed our teeth yet?" you ask the twins, sure the answer is a "no". Your and Bucky's arguing clearly is what woke them up, the yelling must have led them out here from their room.. Rooms?
"Mhm," the girl hums, though just from looking at her, the lie is evident as she avoids looking directly at you.
"Don't lie, Ellie," her brother chastises.
Ellie.. That must've been me, you think with a twitch of a smile before you set Linc down.
"Alright, go with Buc- your dad, and I'll start on the pancakes," you instruct before the twins burst out in giggles. You frown, brows furrowing as you watch them, hoping they'll let you know what exactly is so funny.
"No, we want daddy's pancakes, Mommy!"
"With chocolate chips and syrup!"
"Yeah, they want Daddy's pancakes, Mommy," Bucky taunts with a smirk as you shoot him an annoyed look. He seems a lot more comfortable now than he was a few minutes ago, and you can’t help but notice how easily he seems to be taking this; easing into his role in this place and time. He’s good.
"What's wrong with my pancakes?" you press the toddlers.
"Daddy's are better, but it's okay, your grilled cheese is the best,"
"Yeah! Oh, can we have grilled cheese for lunch, Mommy? Please, please, pleeease," Ellie begs cutely, leaning to you while still in Bucky's hold.
You huff a laugh, agreeing as Bucky sets Ellie down to follow you.
"See if you can find anything," you tell him as you meet his eye before following after the tikes pulling on your hands.
"Don't forget the chocolate, Daddy!"
Bucky watches as you're led to the bathroom before he starts moving around the kitchen. He's about to start looking around for more information on when exactly you are, and the kind of life you’re living, but thinks better of it for now. He'd rather not have two toddlers throw a fit over unfinished pancakes on top of everything else he's trying to wrap his head around at the moment.
He finds the pantry and grabs all the ingredients he needs for his mom's pancake recipe - the one he knows by heart- and gets to work on the batter. The chatter from the kids and you in the bathroom floats into the kitchen and he can’t help but smile at the sound of your voice as you talk to them.
He soon loses himself in the simplicity of the task at hand, and how nice it is to be here like this. He's in pajamas on a Saturday morning, making breakfast for his family as they start their day..
Seems entirely unreal, but a dream nonetheless. And as if that wasn’t enough to have his thoughts in a flurry, he still can't shake the feeling of how nice it was waking up with your soft body pressed against his. Opening his eyes to discover the warmth beside him was you. He was confused at first, wondering when and how you’d gotten into his room, but more so concerned about the why. He watched you for a minute before he noticed the bedding draped over the both of you. It wasn’t his and when he looked around the room, he realized he had no idea where you guys were. You were wrapped around him as you laid together in the comfy king bed, and it took him a second to try to wake you up. He knew he had to, of course, but if he was honest, he didn’t want the feeling to end. Your hold on him was comforting and he was completely at ease in your embrace, circumstances be damned. It was a feeling he hadn't felt in ages.
Though, that wasn’t entirely true. He remembers the last time he felt that way, and of course it was with you. You were stuck in a shoddy motel off the highway during a storm, the crappy jeep you’d been traveling in finally gave out half way through your drive back to the compound and you guys had no choice but to crash for the night. Of course the motel only had one singular room available with one singular bed. After some back and forth, you both decided you’d just share. It was big enough for the two of you, with space in between. When Bucky woke up that next morning, though, he found himself holding you tightly from behind, your arms wrapped over his as you slept peacefully in his embrace. He remembers the heat that crept up his neck and the flurry in his stomach that he still refuses to acknowledge as butterflies. He quickly loosened his hold and slipped away from you before you could even bat an eye. You were still none the wiser. He thought about that morning a lot after it happened.
He wondered what would’ve happened if you had woken up, too. What you would’ve said, what he could’ve said to you if he’d finally gotten out of his own way..
He can’t dwell on it anymore, though. He hasn’t. He won’t.
Except maybe he does.
And seeing as this is your future together, he thinks maybe that’s not as hopelessly embarrassing as he’s made himself believe it is.
And god, the sight of those kids. The warmth that bloomed in his chest as he took in their faces, he honestly was worried he would start crying if he stared too long. He had long given up on the idea of starting a family, he didn't think this life would ever be in the cards for him, and especially not with you.
But as he stood pouring chocolate chip pancake batter into a sizzling pan, he was struck by how right it felt.
Obviously, it wasn't right, neither of you should be here right now, and it made him wonder where exactly the future you and him were.
As soon as the thought went through his head, a tablet he hadn’t taken notice of on the back counter dinged.
He flipped the pancakes before he went to get the pad, taking the tablet in his hands. His face unlocked the device easily and opened up to his email account.
He clicked on the new, unread message from.. you?
—-
Hey Bucky.
Wanda says this is unnecessary but if I know me, I’m still probably freaking out internally. So, just letting you know that everything's fine. Or so she says.
We're gonna be back to our respective places in time come tomorrow.
I know waking up in the future - especially our future - may be hard to wrap your heads around, but it’s a hell of a lot better than waking up alone to a preening Wanda staring at you, trust me.
And you guys aren’t as oblivious as you try to be. You know, deep down, exactly why you’re there. Together. - and why it isn’t all that crazy.
And this goes without saying, but obviously, take care of the kids. Eleanor and Lincoln. If you haven’t found them yet, they’ll find you, I’m sure.
Today at 2pm, you need to drop them off at 7314 Wisteria Drive. That's Steve and Nat's house - so don't make it weird. They're keeping the kids so we can celebrate our anniversary.
Funny how that lines up..
So, anyway, apparently all we need to do on both ends is enjoy the 24 hour downtime. We’ll be waking up in our own beds before we know it.
Okay.
Bye.
(I’d say I love you but I don’t wanna freak you out. x)
—
Bucky just stares down at the email blankly while his brain tries to catch up. He's gonna have to have you read it yourself. Before he can fixate on that last line in particular, he can smell the browning of the pancakes.
His attention quickly returns to the food as he starts to plate it, shutting off the burner. The kiddie plates he finds in a cabinet earn a half smile from him as he cuts up the pancakes for the kids and spots their booster seats, placing the plates before them.
He hears them before he sees them as they come down the hallway, all laughs.
You appear just after they do, a look on your face he can't turn away from. Your soft smile and the adoration swimming in your eyes as you watch your kids, both of them waiting to be lifted up to sit down, is.. beautiful.
He catches himself staring before he turns his focus back to the table, lifting Eleanor into her seat before lifting Lincoln in his, earning a "thank you, daddy," from each of them in return, a wave of astonishment and pride coming over him yet again. He’s not sure if he’ll ever get used to that.
You listen as they talk back and forth about their pancakes and their laughter when they start playing with one another as they eat their lightly syruped bites.
You stand by Bucky, absentmindedly grabbing a pancake and biting into it, stopping almost immediately as the fluffiness catches you off guard. God, they were so right. These are amazing.
"Good, right?" Bucky's voice pulls you back as you swallow your bite.
You lick your lip before looking over at him. "Did you find anything?"
He hands you the tablet and watches as you read the email.
You click your tongue, and then stay silent for a minute.
He almost can’t believe it when you do it, looking at you incredulously once again after you suddenly slap yourself in the face once more.
"What the fuck are you doing?" he bites quietly, moving to stand in front of you and blocking your view of the kids momentarily.
"Just had to make sure," you reply, again cringing at the stinging of your cheek. You eye him before making a move to slap him, too, but he grabs your hand before you can make contact. He looks at you like you're insane as you huff again. "So this is..."
"This is real," he finishes for you. "That hard to believe, huh?"
"That's an understatement. So, I’m not dreaming. But are you sure you’re not dreaming?"
“You think my dreams involve waking up in the future with no memory of what’s gone on between me going to sleep to waking up? That’s a literal nightmare for me. Plus, I learned a while ago how to differentiate between my dreams and reality. Trust me, we’re not dreaming.”
You swallow thickly, an apology on the tip of your tongue. You hadn’t considered that before. Before you can voice your thoughts, though, you're distracted by the interaction between the kids at the table.
"Linc, I'll give you a piece and then you give me one of your piece, okay?"
"You take this one," Linc says as he gives his sister a piece off of his plate and she gives him a piece off of her's.
You can't help but chuckle at the exchange.
"We make cute kids, though," Bucky says, almost under his breath. But you still hear him, and you respond before your brain catches your tongue.
"Yeah, we do."
You push off the counter as Bucky watches you, surprised that you heard him and even more so by your agreement, though it'd be impossible for anyone to argue that your kids aren’t, in fact, ridiculously adorable.
"Do you guys want -"
"Orange juice, please!" Ellie answers before you even finish asking.
"And water, please," Linc follows.
"OJ and water, you got it."
----
You and Bucky get the kids ready to go to Steve and Nat's with minimal arguing... until you had to pack their bags.
What they should or shouldn't take with them was a point of contention as you ridiculed each other's choices. After your bickering and some input from Ellie and Linc, you guys just hoped they had everything they needed. You'd unnecessarily packed them three outfits each just in case of spills or messes and their diaper bag was loaded full, too. Maybe too much for one day, but better safe than sorry, right?
After loading the twins in the car, Bucky followed the GPS to the address you'd left in the email.
When you guys pulled up to the house, you were greeted by Natasha who was unloading groceries from her car. The domestic scene warmed your heart. She deserved the simplicity, the normalcy, and you were happy to know that one day, she’d have it.
She lit up as she saw you guys approaching and came right over, going straight for the back door.
Linc and Ellie were all smiles and giggles as they tried fruitlessly to escape their car seats in favor of being in Nat's arms.
"Bugs!!" Nat greeted them with an enthusiastic smile as she started working on their belts. "I've missed you guys so much! How long has it been? Ten years?"
They laughed in unison at her before Ellie corrected her. "Yesterday, Aunt Nattie!"
"Yesterday?" she questioned in faux disbelief.
She wasn't able to keep up the play, though as the second they were out of their seats, they nearly tackled her.
You watched Steve come outside, coming up to the car with a grin, a girl no more than ten and another toddler, maybe a little older than the twins, in tow.
"Get them inside for me, honey," Nat said to the oldest one. She looked nothing like either of them, dark hair and dark eyes, but still it was clear she was their daughter. The younger one looked like Steve, though, and you wonder briefly if that was just by chance or if they’d had a surrogate. Natasha had talked about the possibility before, and of adopting, but starting a family wasn’t something any of you were actually considering at the time, settling down and having kids wasn't really your focus when you were all trying to make sure the world wouldn’t be ending tomorrow. "We'll be right in. And pick a movie for the sleepover before your Dad does," she pretended to whisper, earning a laugh from the girl as she corralled the kids up the porch.
Nat turned her gaze back on you and Bucky, her stare nothing less than scrutinizing.
"Are you guys in pajamas?" she asked with a raised brow.
"Mh, uh, yeah," you laughed a little breathlessly before looking back at the house, distracted. "They didn't even say bye," you said in your disappointment. You'd only just met the kids, but you felt so instantly connected to them.
"Don't worry about them, they're gonna have fun tonight. And so are you two," she says pointedly, if not a bit suggestively, pulling you from your thoughts. You feel the heat that creeps up your skin and refuse to look at Bucky.
"What are you guys doin' tonight, did you decide?" Steve asks.
"Staying in," Bucky blurts out as you blink and smile. But their faces at that, their smirks of acknowledgement make you grow hotter as you try to not let your embarrassment show.
"Mhm," you hum tight lipped.
It's quiet for a moment as you all watch one another before Steve breaks the silence.
"You guys are acting weird."
"Are we?" you question back too quickly.
"Yeah. You are," Nat says.
"Sugar," Bucky blurts out again. "They're loaded up on sugar. Sorry, they really wanted pancakes this morning. But uh, look, thanks for watching them. We should uh, get going, so.."
"Yeah, we should go," you agree. "What time do you want us to pick them up?"
"We're dropping them off tomorrow afternoon, right?" Steve questioned. "Or did you not want them to go with us?"
"No, oh, right. Duh! I just forgot - that's what we talked about. Because you're taking them to.." you trail off, prompting them.
"The gardens?" Nat finishes.
"Right, yes, the gardens. Which is great. And we appreciate it so much. And if you need anything or anything happens, ya know just call us," you continue on as Bucky starts to pull away. You fight the urge you have to glare at him until you finish your awkward goodbye and Steve and Nat watch you both drive off, clearly confused about the weird interaction.
"Did you miss the part of the email where it explicitly said: don't make it weird?" Bucky asks.
"Fuck off, you were no better," you scowl as you slump in the seat. "What now?"
#bucky barnes x curvy!reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x plus size reader#bucky x curvy!reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes fluff#dad!bucky#mom!reader#bucky barnes one shot#bucky x plus size!reader#bucky barnes x avenger!reader#bucky barnes x plus size!reader#the slumberparty
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DEAN WINCHESTER ONE-SHOTS
Stories are Dean Winchester x Reader unless otherwise noted.
(**Notes 18+ only and/or smut)
Restless Nights After a tryst you instigated in the backseat of his Baby, you and Dean have started something new. He’s just not sure that you’re as “all in” as you claimed to be.
(Sequel to Maybe More Than Enough)
Maybe More Than Enough You’ve been a friend and ally to the Winchester brothers for years, but you and Dean break new ground while on a stakeout to catch a witch.
Touch Me** - (Dean x Plus-size!Reader) Dean isn’t used to how “touchy” you can be, but he never said he didn’t like it.
Rest Dean is your rock, but you’ve become his place of rest.
Something Real** - (Firefighter!Dean W. x Reader) Now that you and Dean are officially engaged, you take some much needed time off together for a family vacation. But even with the wedding set for next year, the two of you are still at odds when it comes to one key part of your future together…
(Part of the Smoke Eater-verse)
Down to the Crust You’ve set out on a very specific mission for Dean. The problem is, you now have ulterior motives for your (formerly) pure love of baking.
As You Wish When Dean agreed to watch your favorite movie with you, you didn’t think it’d come with live subtitles.
Sharing Is Caring (II) Navigating a new relationship means learning how to share a bed with Dean.
(3-part series with Sam, Dean, and Castiel.)
Patched Up (I) How Dean thanks you for treating his wounds.
(3-part series with Sam, Dean, and Castiel.)
Make It Right** - (Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader) He didn’t mean to claim you. Not like this. Not before he’s meant to die.
Midnight Espresso-Verse** - (Dean x Plus-Size!Reader) A Masterlist of stories in which Dean dates a curvy Latina.
Summary: You’ve never taken Dean’s flirting seriously…until he asks you for an impromptu Spanish lesson.
Get Stuffed Dean enjoys the way you cook Christmas dinner with a Latin flair, even if Sam likes to tease him about his insatiable appetite. You remind Sam about the true reason behind one of Dean’s biggest quirks.
(Part of the Midnight Espresso-Verse)
The Old-Fashioned Way - (Dean x Soulmate!Reader) You and Dean are having trouble trying to start a family. What happens when you turn to a spell for a possible solution?
(Part of the Never Say Goodbye-Verse)
Talk Bacon to Me A rare lazy morning where you feel like pestering Dean a little. He objects to being pestered, but ultimately, you both just want to spend some time together.
Easy Like Sunday Morning In which Sam is thoroughly done with motels, and you and Dean continue to make his life miserable.
Home Cooking Now that you and Dean have a daughter, living at the bunker with Sam means you get to be more domestic, to varying degrees of success. Dean learns to enjoy your attempts at cooking.
Damned If I Do - (Dean x Lisa B.) Lisa's thoughts as she fights for her life, and for her son, and this time for Dean.
Dean Winchester Masterlist
Supernatural Masterlist
Main Masterlist
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#Dean Winchester One Shots#Dean Winchester Masterlist#one shots#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean x reader#dean x you#dean winchester x you#spn#supernatural#dean winchester imagines#dean winchester smut#dean winchester x female reader#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester x plus sized!reader#dean winchester x latina!reader#dean winchester x poc!reader#dean winchester x plus size!reader#alpha!dean x omega!reader#alpha dean x omega reader#alpha!dean winchester#alpha!dean x reader#dean winchester au#jackles#jensen ackles#zepskies writes
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I’d do bad things with you.
Summary: The day after the wedding, Bucky and his new wife go to Stark's house to plan their next step because that's why they are married, right? Not because they love each other.
Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Stark!reader.
TW: Really not so many, talks of murder but very lightly, implications of mafia kind of stuff but please remember all I know about this I learned from SoC and fics lol, allutions to death, mention of cheating and sex, lots of angst, curvy!reader, no mention of y/n and reader's nickname is Bells (context coming soon), kind of enemies to lovers but not really enemies, arranged marriage, this will be a +18 story so minors dni.
Disclaimer: English is not my first language, please tell me if I make grammar mistakes.
Part of the Yours to lose series.
All eyes on us <<<
Pictures from pinterest and graphic and dividers by the amazing @ firefly-graphics so all credits to the creators.
Bucky didn’t dare to say anything when his wife closed the door of the guest room, how could he? His dragă asked for one thing: help to protect her family.
That didn’t mean she owned him something, she was his wife but not his woman, not anymore.
If only he wasn’t so impulsive, if he weren’t so blind to recognize what he had in front on him, they wouldn’t be in this situation, their wedding wouldn’t be an arrangement, he would had ask her to marry him instead of trapping her.
Still, he had hopes, he would never give up in getting her back, and when Bucky finally did it, he would make up for the lost time.
Alone in her room, Bells felt the Barnes’ family ring heavy in her hand, not only for the rose diamond, it was heavy because she didn’t deserve it. She was well aware she only had it because she ended up being a Stark, there was no way this could ever happen to her being the mistress on turn for the Winter Soldier.
And even knowing it, she missed those times.
Everyone that worked in the restaurant knew she was sleeping with him, they also knew it was better for their tongues that she never heard them talk about it, Bucky made an example of the first and only one who tried, a jackass named Julian who liked to make women uncomfortable.
After that, everyone turned a blind eye when Bucky when to the bar and talk to her for hours, when he called her to his office and she used disappeared in there to don't go back to work for the whole shift, they saw them going home at night, both being walking proof of the affair.
Her friends sometimes looked at Bells with concern; especially Kate but no one said a thing.
She would get in the car with Bucky who would try to convince her to stop working so he could spoil her and Bells would gave him the same answer, she only wanted him, not his money.
It was so stupid of her, to believe he could feel the same one day but how could she not think it when he played his part so well? Treating him like she was something delicate, something beautiful, she wanted to believe he could want her, love her.
That was why she spent most of the nights with him during the months her fantasy ran wild, she was even familiar with his men, Steve and Sam adored her, Scott, Thor and Clint were sweet with her, even the stoic Loki smiled sometimes at her jokes.
Bucky made her feel at home, she had free reign in the house except for his office and they found their routine very quickly.
Even in the nights Bucky couldn’t join her right after work, he would find her sometimes eating alone in the kitchen or taking a shower and he would made up to her, he was so tender with Bells, making her feel everything was right, maybe it was because she never had a real home and she craved it that she was so easy to fool.
After taking the dress off her and removing her make-up, the girl curled in bed, refusing to cry again for him.
“Good morning, dragă, I made breakfast” was the first thing Bucky told his wife in the morning. His wife, he would never get tired of saying it even if it was only in his head.
She looked beyond beautiful, the ivory set of pants and jacket hug her curves and he was loving the cleavage cut he could see from his place in the counter. His wife looked like what she was, a Queen.
“Don’t call me that, James” hearing his name on her lips hurt but he deserved it, at least she didn’t call him by his last name.
Their last name.
“Does my lady prefer any other nickname?” he asked without stop smiling, serving her coffee like he knew she liked it.
“I have a name, stick to it”
Her name was beautiful, both of them, the one her parents gave her and the one he met her with but she was the woman he loved, dragă was really appropiate.
“You used to love when I called you that, I don’t think I should change it if we want this marriage to be believable” he shrugged, knowing well why his wife didn’t like it anymore.
“We made a deal, Barnes” oh, James was gone “you will not make anyone believe this after we deal with our enemies”
She really did believe he would give up on her, which almost made him smile. His dragă still had to learn a few things about him.
“You should eat, Mrs. Barnes, we have to be at your brother’s house in half an hour”
Bucky was the least happy about working with Tony Stark, he supposed they could have been friends in another circumstances but he hurt his sister, if Natasha would ever did the same to Becca, Bucky would never forgive her.
Thor drove them to Stark’s mansion and Bucky hated how at ease his wife was there, that wasn’t her home, not anymore.
Russo and Castle were waiting besides Stark who hugged his wife and kissed her cheeks, taking her away from Bucky, leaving him scowling beside Steve and Sam.
“You look like you drank your weight in alcohol, Billy” she giggled and Bucky’s heartache increased, when was the last time he made her laugh? He couldn’t remember.
“Are you trying to tell me something, topolina?” Russo inquired with an offended look while they walked to Stark’s office.
“Yes, she means you look like shit Bill” Castle answered before his wife could and they all laughed but Russo and Bucky, Sam and Steve were too busy talking with Thor to notice. He watched as they took her inside the house bringing back her sweet personality, all the love she felt for them that made him mad watching the “proof” of her betrayal slapping him in the face once again.
Maybe Hydra staged all that but it was his fault, his own insecurities and ghosts were what made her hate him and he couldn’t see the way out of the mess he created, not when the scars that piece of shit gave her in his murder attempt were visible every time Bucky could see her arms.
“Are you ok Buck?” Sam asked quietly, his gaze following Bucky’s, his dragă was smiling at Pepper and Tony, touching her sister in law’s bump. He might never get that with her and if it wasn’t with her- Bucky knew it now, if it wasn’t her, it was no one.
“I’m fine, let’s go”
Pierce had endless resources, deals with powerful people, enough money to buy himself a kingdom, lots of people who would kill for him without hesitation but with all that, he had an Aquiles heel.
“We know he feels like he already won the reelection for Mayor but I’m not so sure” Bells projected a picture of a handsome man with dark hair. He had a kind smile and even the red sunglasses didn’t disminished his likable aura “Matthew Michael Murdock was born and raised in Hell’s kitchen, he graduated Columbia with honors with his best friend, Franklin Nelson, the current District Attorney and he was a champion of the people as a lawyer in his neighborhood despite he had multiple chances to work for a big firm, all of that changed when his soon to be wife, Karen Page, got in the way of Wilson Fisk”
Billy raised his hand as if he was in a classroom.
“Why does this sound like someone talking about their crush and how this helps us?” next to him, Maria hit him in the head and he yelped “I’m just saying!”
“She has a point, you would know it if you let Bells finish” his sister smiled at her friend “please go on topolina.
“Thanks Maria, you’re right as always” Bells winked at her and Maria blow her a kiss “Murdock it’s going to help us beat Pierce in the legal side and meanwhile dear Karen would help us convince him to let us give his campaign a hand” there was a mischievous grin in her face that Bucky had never seen before and it took everything in Bells to look away from him.
Pepper then cleared her throat and Bells took her seat, everyone looking at the ginger.
“Since Fisk got killed in jail, Miss Page got out of witness protection and Mr. Murdock reinforced his fight against the system from the political side” Bells helped her showing reports of Murdock’s popularity, his good press, all the people that supported him “we are going to destroy Pierce taking everything from him. Natasha and Yelena are working with Wanda and Maria to take more territory from him, Madani and Torres keep going after his most powerful lieutenants just like we talked about the last meeting.”
The map in the screen showed the comparison of the before and after, all the east side of the city that once was Pierce’s now it was all theirs, there were still parts resisting the change, it would have been quicker if the group didn’t tried to make the transition the less bloody as possible.
It wasn’t about power, even if it was what their line of work demanded, it was about revenge.
Pierce took something irreplaceable from each one of them, it would be only fair they’d leave him with nothing.
This time Bucky catched Bells eye and refused to let her go.
If not for Pierce, maybe they still would been together but maybe not, Bells was so afraid to tell him the truth about who she really was when Tony found her and it just added to the impending disaster they were, they would been living a lie, she would have been just the mistress, the toy on turn for someone that didn’t loved her.
Bells had to remind herself she didn’t need Bucky, she couldn’t, not after being the target of his cruelness, she couldn’t wash the memory of him fucking Jenna on his desk after telling Bells he loved her hours before.
She knew the truth now, she couldn’t forgive him, not when Bells’ heart was still aching for Bucky’s betrayal, for his lack of faith in her, for his lack of love towards her.
On the other side, Bucky was proud of her, his dragă was born to rule at his side and he didn’t care if he had to hunt Alexander Pierce himself, he would do anything to do this right.
If the murder of his father taught him something, it was that he wouldn’t fix anything feeling sorry for himself, Bucky had all the chances in the world to make amends and he would pay for every mistake with the blood of their enemies.
Tag list: learisa blackhawkfanatic queerqueenlynn calwitch pono-pura-vida
Hiya! This took me so long but it was only because I was stressing myself about it, then I decided to do whatever felt right and here we are! Also the nicknames I used here:
dragă: sweetheart.
topolina: little mouse.
Let me know what you think.
Love, Lily.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x curvy!reader#mob!bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes angst
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Imagine a like avenger!Bucky x shape shifter! Reader.
It could be enemies to lovers smut too because why not?
The reader is the beast boy but a girl version...you can make them green
I don't see skin color 🙄(I'm joking,I'm black)
What if you make the reader green it could be like Bucky's in his room and he hears crying so he follows the sound to find y/n crying because she messed up on a mission and some agents said mean things idk and he is trying to comfort her and then they kiss and then more idk
Then, if she isn't green it could be .....sex pollen...she gets hit with sex pollen while on a mission and comes back...well you know worked up? She's in pain and even those Bucky "hates her" he also wants to help her so he..how do I say this.. he fucks her brains out.
I'm Not Like Her
Y/N had her heart broken when some agents made fun of how her body look and Bucky came in clutch with the rescue.
Note: I'm not even open for asks but your brilliant mind just spark something in me! Plus, i see you a lot in my comments so here you are... and the pic is hilarious btw 🤣
Pairing: avenger!bucky x shape shifter!reader
Words: 1.5k++
Warnings: mild enemies to lovers, hint fat shaming, angst, bucky likes to tease the reader but not too much, fluff, cause he secretly loves her, allusion to smut??? and sam just being himself.
Idea explanation: personally i don't think i'm qualified enough to write about being discriminate against for skin color. I need more research of it.
BUT, physically, i am on the curvy side. I don't have a flat stomach, my thighs are bigger than they supposed to. cause i'm fucking 4'11 (so i look fat for my height). And i know what it feels like when people comment abt that.
Soooooo instead of turning green, imagine that the reader doesn't have the fit and perfect model-like body like other agents. Her powers? She can shape shift into any living being (person/animals/aliens) for a short amount of time, like 3-7mins.
Bucky Barnes is a bully. He'd do anything to annoy the shit out of Y/N. Everything he does just ticked her off, you name it; hair pulling, cheeks pinching, mean little jokes about how Y/N would suffocate him to death if she ever sit on him.
Bucky Barnes acts exactly like a mean teenage boy who bullies the person he likes. But she doesn't know that, does she?
What she knew was he is a menace that loves to see her bright red, in embrassment and anger. What she knew was he likes to dig into her skin and ripped her heart out from how vexingly mean he is with her.
But, he was never cruel. No. He is the sweetest a man can be when he wants to. She still remembered those days he would drop off bunch of her favorite snacks and sweets during that week she was hospitalized from a rough mission.
Don't get her wrong though, he still teases her A LOT during those visits but it was sweet of him to come by and cheer her up.
But if he wasn't cruel. Then, why was she on the verge of tears?
Y/N stood alone in the kitchen, her hands strongly gripped onto the edges of the counter like she would shatter it with her bare hands. At time like this, she wished nothing more than just to shift into a bird and fly away.
Just so far away that no will able to catch her.
But those agents certainly did shot a bullet through the thickness of her gut when they said those words.
Y/N was just going to grab a cold drink after her sparring with Bucky, when she heard their vile whispers. She stopped at her tracks and hid behind the wall the moment she heard her name was mentioned.
"I don't understand why we keep her around. Did you see her panting for air from a quick sparring with Barnes? And doesn't she sound like a pig?" He sneered.
"We keep y/n around cause she has powers you, dumbass. Why are you being mean anyway, didn't you guys had a thing like 2 weeks ago?" The other voice said.
"It was a prank. Didn't think she'd believe it. Me dating her? Please. Not in any universe." He trailed, "Though if she shift into Natasha, then maybe I'll consider fucking her." Y/N could hear his smirk even from the block of the walls.
The other man laughed as if it was funny, "But it only lasts so long though? What if she turn back into herself when you have your cock inside her?"
The man gagged and said, "Ewww please stop. That's just fucking disgusting."
And when they left the kitchen, Y/N aimlessly went to the area. What was she gonna do just now? Oh, get some cold water. But why won't her hands move? They've been digging into the hard surface of the counter for how long now? If she goes any harder, her fingers would bleed. And why's her vision was blurry? Why there's wetness on her cheeks?
She didn't even notice that she was crying, beause she was so focused on fixing her own broken heart. And even if her pride was left to almost nothing, but she held on. She chose hold on to it for as long as could. Cause deep down she knew they were right.
No one's gonna love her for who she is, they will always be blinded by the flaw of her body and not see the pure of her heart. And if that is the ugly truth she had to face, then she chose to love herself. To be proud of herself.
But it is so hard does it? How can you love yourself when no one else is willing to love you?
"Doll?" Bucky's voice was soft when he called her that she didn't even heard him the first time around.
When Bucky heard sounds of someone sniffling, he knew that someone was crying. So he followed the hiccups of voice to the kitchen. But he didn't expect the culprit would be Y/N.
He almost rushed to her when she continued to sob, "Hey hey hey, what's wrong sweets? Did you hurt yourself?" He briefly cupped the softness of her cheeks before slightly holding up her hands to see if there's any cut from it.
When he noticed that there weren't any physical injuries, the tense of his muscles relaxed just a little bit. His big hands went to reach her face again, and gently wiped her tears away. He was so tender with his hold but his tone was far from it, "Who did this to you?"
And she told him exactly what happened. Even with hiccups in between her ranting breath. He listened. He listened to every single word she had to say, not cutting into her confession, not even once. And Y/N didn't know why she told him that. He supposed to be the last person she complained to about her look, about her weakness, about her flaws.
Bucky Barnes, the same one that loves to tease her about it all. He wasn't supposed to hear the dooms of her heart. But, he was. He was listening to her.
And he was seeing red.
Bucky had never felt rage this powerful in his life, he swore that if he let it consume him, the tower would be painted with blood. But, he held back. For her.
Because she needed someone to be there for her. And Bucky felt he was the luckiest to be that person.
"I'm not like her." She whispered tiredly. "I'm not like her, Bucky. I'm not attractive like Natasha or pretty like Zendaya or even Steve at that matter, like he has such tiny waist for his built, and he's a fucking man!!" She ranted every minor things that bothered her to him.
Bucky thought of his words for a while and simply said, "Yes, you're not like Natasha, or Zendaya, or Steve..." he chuckled at the end, "...But that's the best bits about you, doll." There was this flare in his eyes that Y/N couldn't wrap her finger around it.
"Are you making fun of me, right now?" She glared in between the tears in her eyes.
"No, I'm only telling you the truth." Bucky tucked her hair as he continued, "So what if you're not like her? There will always be someone that will see you more that just a piece of meat to fuck."
"Well, then I won't have that someone then."
"Oh, but I know one person though." Bucky grinned, "Me."
Y/N was rendered speechless when he confessed his true feelings.
"Doll, have you ever wonder why I love pinching your cheeks so much?" His fingers started to trail across her cheeks and his stare lingered in her eyes as his naughty hands find their way to her hips.
"It's because I was desperately trying to avoid grabbing these soft, thick thighs of yours." his eyes darkened the moment that he said, "And oh baby the things I'd do for you just to slide my cock between them."
It was like she was hypnotized by the way his hardened bulge grinding against her tummy. It felt good and his lust-filled gaze was doing nothing but making her wet, "Bucky..." she whispered.
Bucky lips was so gentle on her eyelids and her temple, until his teeth grazed along her neck and his groaning call reached her ears, "And do you know why I was pissed when we were sparring just now?" Asked before quickly clarifying, "It's not because I lost to you."
He grinded a particularly hard thrust against her that he accidentally moan in pleasure, "Oh babydoll, no. It's because I have this absolutely gorgeous girl on top of me, and her slutty body was just so close to me that I got so fucking hard. "
Bucky lifted her face towards his to watch how she was melted in his touch, "I was so pissed, because I can't fuck you the way I want to." His lips was so close, hovering over her own as he confessed.
But suddenly they felt a splash of water hitting side of their face, "Woah woah woah. Down, boy. Bad bucky. Bad!" Sam yelled. Imagine his surprise when he got into the kitchen to see Bucky literally humping on Y/N like a dog in heat.
They didn't even notice him approaching them with a glass of water in his hand.
Though Y/N was absolutely red in embrassement, but surely Bucky doesn't give a fuck. He didn't even acknowledge Sam's pleas to stop, especially when he crashed his lips on hers.
Y/N moaned lewdly as he effortlessly lifted her on the kitchen isle, feeling his clothed cock rubbing against her needy cunt. At that point, who cares if anyone's watching. She wanted him so bad. As bad as he wanted ruin her.
Sam scrambled backwards when Bucky started to unzip his pants, "Shit he's going feral." He dramatically ran across the halls leading to the kitchen as he announced, "Okay people, out. Get out. No one is allowed to the kitchen unless you want to be in debt cause I am not paying for your therapy."
Safe to say the kitchen was a fucking mess when Bucky was done with her and the cleaning crew was traumatized by the amount of wetness and cum they had to clean around the area.
End.
A/N: This was so random but I hope you enjoyed it! Drop some thoughts behind for me to pick up and squeal at, would you?
#random asks 💌#yinn writes 📝#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#avenger!bucky
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— DOWN BY THE SEASIDE
SUMMARY : sunshine and sunny beaches. Dean’s always talking about the beach, toes in the sand… a couple of those little umbrella drinks… her, in a sexy bikini.
PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader
CHARACTERS : none
WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), hating the beach (I hate the beach), fluff, p in v, innuendos, love making, slow sex
WORD COUNT : 3.5k
A/N : led zeppelin song title. too many thoughts, not enough time to write them all out, but… 🏝️🏖️⛱️🌊☀️🐚 I wrote this first. xxxxxx
She padded her way out of the warmth of the house in search of Dean, barefoot. Sand crunched beneath her feet, painless, but irritating prickles against her skin—grains sticking to her, hard to remove completely.
The wind was still compared to how it had been at midday. Only a cool breeze remained, causing goosebumps to grow over her skin. She tightened the wool blanket around her bikini-clad body. She brought it with the intention of covering Dean up once she got to him.
The sky began to turn dark, a darkish blue pushed the orange hue away. The sun looked like a sunny-side-up egg resting on the blue horizon, the orange hue that spread across acting like the runny insides of the yolk.
It was time for dinner.
After lunch, and after walking Miracle, Dean announced he’d be enjoying a drink while reading a book outside. Much to Sam’s, Cas’, but especially her disappointment.
That was five hours ago.
She’d checked in on him through text while she joined Cas and Sam for a little tour. Dean called her when he took a break from reading to play with Miracle. They even did a video call for a few minutes before they reluctantly hung up.
It was the first day that they had separated in all their time there. Dean wanted to relax, and while she longed to sit by him while quietly doing something herself, she didn’t want to miss the opportunity of getting something special for him.
Sam had gone for a shower to wash away the sweat and sand from their adventure, and Cas was entertaining Miracle while he waited for his turn.
Cas took things slowly now. He said so. It was cute to see the angel dressed so… casually. It felt… almost intimate to see him out of that trench coat and that suit, showing a bit of his naturally sun-kissed skin.
Him and Sam bickered—naturally. It was good natured banter, and it was very funny to watch. Cas didn’t hold his tongue, and that dry humour of his made her cheeks burn from smiling and her stomach ache from laughter.
She finally got to Dean who was fast asleep, and laying down on a pink and white beach lounger with a book open across his chest, the pages facing down. George R. R. Martin. A Feast for Crows. He was catching up.
She smiled down at him lovingly and extended her hand to brush away stray hairs from his forehead. He looked beautiful in the orange sunlight, his skin glowing like the sparkly surface of the sea. He snored softly and her smile widened. She trailed her fingers down his cheek, his jawline, and pulled away to remove the book from his chest.
She placed the heavy book over the crunchy bags, cringing at the loudness of it as the book squashed them.
She covered him with the blanket she had wrapped around herself, distracted by abandoned, empty bags of Cheetos and gummy rings on a small table beside him, a curvy glass filled with watery, blue liquid, and a yellow cocktail umbrella. She eyed them with amusement as she gently tucked the blanket around Dean’s body—as best as she could without waking him.
Dean wiggled a little beneath the thick blanket, snuggling into the soft wool, stubbly cheek audibly scratching against it. She froze above him, her lips pressing together anxiously, and she pulled her hands away from him just in case.
Her eyes softened. He was so cute.
Dean ended up stirring awake anyway, with a smack of his lips. He breathed in deeply, then groaned, his eyes fluttering open. She quickly pulled away so she wouldn’t scare him, but she relaxed when he smiled softly. He looked at her lazily, his eyes half-open.
“You’re here,” he mumbled, clumsily stretching his hand up and out for her to take. Her smile softened.
“Yeah.” She took his hand, smoothing her fingertips against his calloused palm, slipping her fingers through his. “How was your day, baby? You hungry?” She asked, watching him shut his eyes once more, and bring his hand down against his stomach.
A hum rumbled deeply through Dean’s chest. “Good. Missed you,” he whispered, “I’m pretty, uh… hungry, yeah…” he trailed off sleepily, pulling on her hand to bring it to his lips.
“I missed you, too,” she murmured, a hot flush rising up her face at the sensation of chapped, warm lips pressing against the back of her hand. “Wanna choose what we eat today?” Dean opened his eyes and puckered his lips thoughtfully, which only drew a tiny laugh from her.
“Can’t think, so sleepy,” he whined playfully, leaning over the beach lounger to look down at her feet. She playfully curled her toes into the sand, collecting a bunch of grains in her feet, wiggling her toes, the sand rubbing between her toes making a little swishy crunch. “No shoes,” he stated with a bemused expression.
She shrugged, “you like sand.”
Dean tilted his head and stared up at her. She did the same—in the opposite direction, nearly becoming sleepy herself with the gentle caress of his fingers against her hand. “You hate sand,” he pointed out with a smug smile.
She gave in easily.
“Ugh, I do. It gets everywhere. Even after I shower, I find more. You’re crazy,” she rambled, “when I woke up, there was still sand in our sheets, even on the floor!” Dean chuckled, pulled back the blanket, silently inviting her in with him. She shook her head begrudgingly, “my feet are covered in sand-”
“Get in here, Anakin,” Dean interrupted her, giving her hand a sharp tug that made her stumble forward.
“I won’t fit,” she whined, but she awkwardly climbed in between his bowed legs anyway. The beach lounger squeaked and she looked down at him frightened, with wide eyes. Dean only laughed and pulled her closer to him, careless about the creaking chair.
She rested her head on Dean’s chest without protesting when he pulled the blanket over both of them. They were silent for a moment and she traced the lines of his bare chest beneath the colourful Hawaiian shirt until she got to the anti-possession tattoo.
“Why don’t you like the beach?” He asked, his voice thick with sleep once more. Dean ghosted his fingers up and down her back, lulling her into a sleepy, sedated state.
“It doesn't matter,” she smiled, “we’re here and I’m happy. You’re happy.” She lovingly kissed Dean’s freckled clavicle. After contemplating his question, she lifted herself up to look into his eyes and crossed her arms across Dean’s chest. She looked at him dreamily. Dean turned red and averted his gaze. “And… you look hot half naked,” she grinned, her dimpled cheeks turning hot like his own.
“Well, I like seeing you half naked, too…” he trailed off, his fingers sneaking up her back. She rolled her eyes at Dean playfully. “Tell me why you’re a beach hater,” he pouted, slowly tugging at the knot of her bikini top tied behind her neck.
“Hey!” She exclaimed, uncrossing her arms to place one of her hands beside his head. She held the bra against her chest with her free hand when it slipped down. She blushed while he smirked and tugged at the second knot around her back. Holding the flimsy bra was useless, but she kept her arm there and looked around.
It was getting darker, a slim line of light remained on the horizon, only lights outside tiny living spaces made the surrounding areas visible. But no one was around where her and Dean were. All she could think was that Cas was still inside the small hut. Sam didn’t take very long in the shower. Either one of them could step out at any moment, especially because of Miracle and his needs.
“The sun’s too bright,” she whispered uncertainly. Dean stopped to contemplate her, raising his brows for her to continue as he began to undo the little bows on her hips keeping her bottoms in place. “It burns my skin and makes me itchy. And the wind… it makes my hair frizzy and tangled…”
Dean chuckled, examining her face, and how serious she was about the irritation she felt for the beach. He wrapped his thick fingers around her forearm and gently pulled it away from her chest. She slowly let go, scanning his face, holding his gaze, which flickered down to her chest once the bra fell onto him.
“We’re here though, it’s not so bad when we’re all having fun,” she reassured him. He looked up, simpered. She slowly lifted herself and the blanket slid down her back. Dean moved with her, allowing her to straddle him. She pulls her bottoms from beneath her to dump them onto the sandy beach, her bra following with an indifferent flick.
Dean lifted his hips, wiggling to get the shorts down enough for her to pull his half-hard cock out. She dragged her finger from his pelvis to the tip, tapping the slit teasingly. She watched him twitch and harden in her hand.
“Thank you,” he told her softly, his hands slowly gliding up her thighs and her sides.
She tilted her head and her hair followed, her entire face softening at those two words. Two words that held so much weight and meaningfulness when spoken by him. “Thank you…” She murmured, leaning down to place a kiss between his now-furrowed brows. “… For teaching me to enjoy something I didn’t like, for helping me let loose, for making me have fun, and for so much more.” For every reason, she kissed a different section of his face, and the final destination was his smiling lips.
Dean pressed his hands into her back, keeping her lips locked with his. The kiss was slow, lazy, loving, but still firm, deep, and demanding. There was no indication of fear or doubt, but there was an impatience in the way he dented her soft skin with his fingertips when his hands traversed across her body.
His hands finally settled on her hips. Dean pulled her forward, parting from her lips to gasp when her heat rubbed against his erection. She dropped her face into his neck to attach her lips to his throat, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses on every inch of warm skin. She rolled her hips as he guided her and moaned softly when he stretched his head back to give her more access to his neck.
She licked circles over darker freckles, and sucked a light, oval-shaped mark on his pulse, grinding down hard on him when he tightened his grip on her hips and groaned.
She was having fun, despite how quickly she made herself needy for release. There was something satisfying in the way he begged and moaned, wiggling his hips, hoping to snag his cock at her dripping hole, but it was all to no avail. She kissed lower, across his collarbone and his shoulder, using her nose to move the Hawaiian shirt he’d left unbuttoned out of the way.
He was short of breath by the time she pulled away from his skin and extremely aroused, looking like a melted piece of candy on a hot summer day. She didn’t stop moving her hips and kept teasing him by sinking her teeth into his plump lip, leaving his cock wet in her slick and achingly hard. He throbbed and burned impossibly hot as blood rushed through his cock until he felt like bursting from her grinding alone.
“Please,” Dean laughed softly, and whined, squirming beneath her impatiently. He bent his knees and brought his hands to her face. She pulled away from his mouth to look at him, but she didn’t protest when he pulled her back in for a kiss, silently asking for her surrender. “One thing on my bucket list…” he whispered.
She moved back again with a raised brow of curiosity. He chased her lips anyway, ignoring the wordless sign for him to finish his sentence. Dean pouted and stopped trying to kiss her. When the head of his cock prodded at her dripping entrance, Dean’s breath hitched.
“What’s on your bucket list?” She bit her lip, a smirk playing on her lips when she got the tip of his cock inside her. She reached down to grip him at the base and lifted herself off completely. She did it over and over, repeatedly.
“S-sex on the beach.” Dean choked on air and his hip bucked upwards unintentionally, unable to stand anymore teasing. Her mouth fell open in surprise when he pushed his cock into her all the way, a painful and delicious stretch around him.
“Fuck,” she whined, dropping her forehead onto his shoulder. A shiver rippled through her, both from the pleasure of being filled by him and the cool ocean breeze that teased her warm flesh.
“Sorry,” he whispered, leaning against his elbow to ghost his lips across her sternum apologetically. “I’m sorry,” he murmured again, sliding his hands up her smooth back to bring her closer and warm her up.
“It’s okay,” she exhaled with a breathy laugh. She allowed herself to lean into him, basking in the warmth of his body. Dean kissed her breast firmly, right where her heart was thudding for him—with desire and affection.
“I want pizza,” he whispered suddenly. She had to stop herself from laughing as Dean circled his tongue around her nipple. She kissed the top of his head and slowly began undulating her hips.
“Sounds good,” she hummed, beginning to lift herself up and dropping down on his lap slowly. Tormentingly slow. She kept him close, with one of her hands curled behind his neck, the other threading through the short hair behind his head.
It was frustrating to be in such a cramped, slim chair, but Dean didn’t seem to mind.
He took the blanket to lift it back up over her waist, and held it in place with his hand as she moved above him unhurriedly. She was more than sure that she could finish like this alone. Driven to the edge by the tiny sensations of her lover being impossibly close. Dean’s breath fanned over her neck, leaving her skin misty the longer he panted from her leisurely pace.
There was nothing more heavenly than this moment.
He made a path along her neck and jaw with his lips, leaving a few marks behind that she wouldn’t be able to hide with clothes. Dean wrapped his arm around her waist, clutching the blanket around her still, and met her thrusts at an equally gentle speed.
She moaned at the fullness she felt in having him inside her, the drag of her slippery walls up and down his length, the brushing of his cock against the most sensitive spots inside her.
Dean pressed his creased forehead to her cheekbone, his free hand veering up her thigh, so slow. He felt her. Lovingly, he touched her. At least she felt loved with the gradual glissade of his hand tracing the curves of her body, squeezing at certain parts he knew she liked to be touched.
His touch sent sparks down to her clit. The possessive scrape of his blunt nails down her skin. The pinch of her nipples between two of his fingers, the deliciously rough tugging, the brushing around in teasing circles until they remained peaked and hard.
“Fuck, you feel so good, Dean,” she mumbled, pressing her lips to his warm cheek.
“You do, too,” he sighed, finding her lips with his own.
Dean sat up straight in the chair, his chapped, warm lips moved against hers. Using the same listless pace, he slipped his tongue into her mouth, and brought his hand down between her legs, where he thumbed between her folds until he found her swollen clit.
She gasped at the gentlest brush of the pad of his finger against the sensitive pearl. Her walls clamped down around him tightly, sparks of pleasure from his skilled fingers creating a more powerful flame inside her that urged her to start moving faster in his lap.
Dean moaned softly into her mouth, and pulled her to him with his arm around her waist, abandoning the blanket that once covered her body. She flexed her hands as they moved down his back when he lifted his hips upwards just a bit faster, meeting her pace, driven both by her pleasure and his own.
She buried her face in his neck, biting into his taut flesh with her teeth and her nails scratching down his back, leaving behind red marks, and indentation against the canvas of his freckled skin. Dean grunted softly and did the same to her, desperate to feel her everywhere and completely driven by love. He barely grazed her skin with his short fingernails and bit into the skin between her neck and shoulder as his hips stuttered up into her.
“Please,” she murmured, kissing her way up his ear, “I want to feel you cum inside me, Dean.” Dean groaned deeply and bit his lip just as she decided to begin grinding down on him.
Dean’s cock rammed deeply into her slick and warm insides until he finally came inside her. Slow, gentle pleasure warmed his skin, a buzzing and cotton sensation filled his brain the more he focused entirely on his pleasure until her walls began to squeeze around him tightly. Dean cursed softly into her ear and his hips bucked into her and he collapsed back into the beach lounger with her in his arms, whispering his name repeatedly as she gushed messily around him.
Dean moved his hand away from her clit and he blindly searched for the blanket to cover both of them once again. The cool air made him feel just how much of their fluids began to drip out of her and he shivered. Her lips made their way back to his own, and a quiet laugh made her shake above him.
“What?” He mumbled, pressing a kiss to her open mouth.
“This might be the best day of my life, Dean.” Dean pulled back to gaze at her with a tiny smile. He brushed hair away from her slightly sweaty forehead, and caressed her heated cheek. “You, me, Sammy, Cas… the beach, lots of food, no more hunting,” she listed, turning her face slightly to kiss his palm. “You,” she grinned playfully.
Dean threw his head back as he laughed loudly. She watched with a more adoring smile that made him flush when he looked at her, his laughter slowly dying down. She bit her lip and lifted herself to let him slip out of her, his cock soft, and coated in their release.
“Give me your shirt, so we go back in before they decide to order something you don’t want to eat today,” she snorted, taking the blanket with her as she stepped onto the irritating sand. She looked down shamelessly at his wet cock and tightened the wool cloth around her shoulders.
Dean tutted, “no aftercare.”
She rolled her eyes at him, but a smile still made its way onto her face. Dean shook his head with a childish pout, staring into her eyes seductively as he lifted his hips to pull his shorts up over his cock.
“Well, we can shower together.” She shuffled forward, between his legs when he moved his legs to one side of the beach lounger, the cold sand beneath his feet making him shiver. “And clean each other up, and enjoy some… pizza… and watch whatever you want… and then… we can do whatever we want.” Dean slowly peeled the shirt off his body, staring into her loving gaze. “We have the rest of our lives together,” she whispered.
Dean grabbed her hips and tugged her back towards him. “I love you,” he told her softly, tugging the blanket from her body, urging her to climb back into his lap.
“I love you,” she giggled, helping him put the shirt he wore on her body. His warmth still stuck to the shirt, as did the scent of him. She began to button it as he dropped kisses on her chest.
“Guys!” Sam shouted from the door. “We’re starving!”
Miracle ran out from between Sam’s long legs and made his way to where her and Dean were. She carefully moved out of his lap, laughing as the fluffy dog spun in circles then took her discarded bikini bra from the sand and ran back inside to where Sam was.
“I think Miracle’s tryin’ to play,” Dean chuckled. He picked up his book, the glass, and the trash of his finished snacks, while she picked up her underwear. She snickered when she saw Sam tugging her bra from Miracle who got into a playful stance at Sam’s feet.
“Did you guys really- Ugh, nevermind!” Sam shook his head when he snatched her bra from Miracle’s mouth as if it had ick on it and stepped back inside, leaving the door open. Miracle waited loyally for her and Dean to return, and Cas appeared behind an impatient Miracle waving at the couple to hurry up.
“Hey, don’t bend down, I can see everything.” Dean smacked her ass and grinned, walking beside her.
“I’ll try not to.” She bumped into him playfully. He wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed the top of her head.
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#dean’s 45th birthday celebration#dean x female!reader#dean x y/n#dean x you#dean x reader#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester smut#dean winchester x female!reader#dean winchester fanfiction
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All patched up
I’ve got requests- ignore them if you want, but I had to try.
If you could I’d like (all plus sized/curvy reader):
Dean- best friends to lovers type situation, she gets hurt on a hunt, self conscious about letting him take care of her and patch her up. He’s there for her both to stitch her up and emotionally.
*This is for you 😁 I hope I bring your vision to life. Thank you for trusting me with a request!!*
Characters:Dean Winchester x Plus Size Reader
Warnings: Language, insecurities, mention of hunting, Fluff, SMUT, oral sex female receiving, protected sex.
A/N: This is the final request from my lovely and I’m so excited to write it. I wrote it fast so please forgive any mistakes. This does not follow The Supernatural story line.
All work is my own, don’t take it!!
Minors DNI 18+
💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕
“Shit!” You yelled in pain. You realized you had a deep gash on your side. The latest hunt with the oldest Winchester was a long one, and you were glad it was over. During the fight you were thrown through the wall and a piece of the splintered wood cut your side.
You knew you needed to get it stitched up but you didn’t want Dean to do it. You knew he could do it and he was good at stitches, but you didn’t want him to see your body.
You’d been hunting with the Winchesters for about two years now. Sam was great and like a brother to you. Dean, oh Dean was something more to you. Well, in your mind he was.
You’d been with them long enough to know Dean didn’t do relationships. He did one night stands with busty, skinny women. The complete opposite of you. You were busty, but you were curvy too. You carried more weight on your body, had a stomach and you knew he’d never see you as anything but a friend.
You tried to tie a bandage around you enough to keep the bleeding under control until you could get to Sammy. You and Dean made your way back to the hotel for the night. It was late so you two decided to just stay one more night.
Arriving at the hotel Dean told you he was going to take a shower and then head to the bar. You nodded. Your heart broke each time he went to a bar and picked up another woman. You didn’t have any claim to him, but you wanted to.
You sat on the bed and mindlessly clicked through the television. You heard the shower turn off and a few minutes later Dean walked out with just his jeans on. His hair was still damp from the shower and little drops of water ran down his chest. You bit your lip and clenched your thighs together.
“Showers ready for you sweetheart” Dean said. As you stood you got dizzy. You didn’t notice the blood on the back of your shirt. “Hey Y/N, you okay?” Dean questioned. “Yeah. Just got up too fast” you walked past him.
“Holy shit Y/N! You’re bleeding bad! Let me see” Dean shouted. “I’m fine Dean. It’s just a scratch. You go to the bar. I’ll be okay.” You tried to pull away.
“Y/N, sit down now!” Dean demanded. You looked at him and said “No, I’ll be okay. Please let it go.” Tears pricked your eyes. “Sweetheart, please let me look. I can’t let anything happen to you. You mean too much to me.” Dean said softly. “I can’t Dean. I can’t let you see my body. It’s terrible and just, well fat.” You cried.
“Oh sweetheart, your body is perfect. Please let me take care of you. I can’t lose you.” Dean said. “Dean it’s not perfect. Not for you at least.” You whispered “Y/N, please” he said cupping your face.
You relented and laid down. Dean lifted your shirt and saw the gash. When he removed the bandage you winced in pain. “Oh sweetheart, this is really bad. I need to clean it and stitch it up.” Dean said getting up to get the first aid kit. You laid on your side as Dean got to work.
Goosebumps erupted on your skin with every touch from Dean. He smirked when he saw it. Dean really cared about you he was just scared. He couldn’t stand losing you and he knew if the two of you got into a relationship and something happened to you, he would be devastated so he kept you at arms length.
Once he was done and he added the wrap he offered to help you stand. You stood up with his help. Facing him and looking into his green eyes sent heat through your body. You swallowed hard and said “thank you for patching me up. I appreciate it. I’ll be okay taking a shower if you want to head out.” You said trying to walk past him.
As you walked past he gently grabbed your arm and turned you towards him. The two of you stood there in silence looking at each other. Dean cupped your cheeks and you leaned into his touch. He moved towards you and you moved closer to him too. Your lips were inches apart and your breath was mingling with his. He closed the distance and his lips landed on yours.
The kiss was gentle at first then became more passionate. Dean’s hands went in your hair and pulled you closer. You moaned as you continued to kiss him. His hands roamed over your body and you froze.
Dean stopped kissing you and pulled back. “What’s wrong sweetheart” he asked. “You don’t want me Dean. I’m not like the women you sleep with. I’m not beautiful or skinny. I’m curvy and I’m rough around the edges.” You lowered your head. Dean lifted your chin “Y/N, you’re right. You aren’t like the women I pick up in bars. You’re so much more. You’re a badass hunter who can hold her own, an amazing woman who has a huge heart, a beautiful soul who puts family and friends first and you’ve got an amazing body. I love you, not just as a friend but I love you. Please let me show you just how amazing you are. I don’t want the women at the bar, I want you. I’ve always wanted you. I’ve just been scared. Scared of losing you and being here without you. I can’t imagine my life without you and if you’re willing to try I’d like to take our relationship to the next level.” Dean said.
You looked at Dean and smiled. You kissed him again and whispered “Show me Dean. Show me what you want.”
Dean gently laid you down on the bed and leaned over you kissing your lips. He worked his way down your jaw, to your neck and collar bone. Your breath hitched and your hands instinctively held on to his body. His calloused hands ran over your body. You leaned into his touch.
He helped you remove your clothes and you went to grab the sheet. Dean stopped you. “No, please let me look at your body. You blushed and fought every instinct to cover yourself. Dean smiled “sweetheart you are absolutely gorgeous. Look at your body. It’s a work of art.” You smiled. You knew he was being genuine. One thing you can honestly say about Dean Winchester is he never lies about how he feels. It might take him forever to admit it, but when he does it’s the truth.
“Dean, one of us is wearing too much clothes” you whispered. Dean smiled and said “yes ma’am” and started to remove his clothes. You’d seen Dean mostly naked before but never fully. When he removed his boxers you bit your lip.
You had imagined him before. All those late nights alone in your room, but nothing prepared you for the perfection that stood before you. You felt your body respond to him and slick pooled between your thighs. Dean climbed on the bed and leaned over your body kissing your lips. Your breath caught in your throat when you felt his hardness rest on your thigh.
“You ready sweetheart?” Dean asked. You nodded yes. His lips trailed down your body and his hands touched every inch. Dean Winchester was touching you, exploring you and wanted you! Your mind and heart raced. His fingers found your folds and he slid two thick fingers in and you gasped. He smirked and started pumping. You moaned and called his name.
His heart fluttered when you called his name. He had waited since the moment he laid eyes on you for you to moan his name. He was in love with you but was afraid to tell you. Dean had a reputation of going after “the hot chicks” he would meet them in bars and sleep with them then leave before morning. He chose these women because he knew he would never fall in love with them. You on the other hand, from the moment he met you he wanted you.
Dean continued to touch your body. With every moan and calling of his name he fell deeper. He loved how your body responded to him. He couldn’t wait to make you his forever. “Dean I’m close….oh god…..please don’t stop…..oh Dean” you grabbed his hair as he continued eating you like you were his last meal. “Dean!” You yelled as you came hard. You saw stars. Dean continued his assault on your pussy until your legs were shaking and you were squirming under him.
He leaned up smiling and you were flushed and breathing heavy. Dean leaned up and kissed you. You could taste your juices on his lips and it turned you on more.
Dean leaned back and grabbed a condom, ripping it open. He pumped his length a few times and slid the condom on. “You ready sweetheart. If you’re not we don’t have to go any further.” He softly said. “I’m ready Dean, more than ready.” You smiled.
He lined himself up and pushed in. As he entered you both gasped. He made eye contact with you and kissed you. “God you feel amazing Y/N. Better than I imagined.”
Dean took his time with you. Exploring every inch of you. Every thrust felt deeper and stretched you more than you imagined. You felt a second release coming quick and before you could say anything it hit. Your walls clenched around Dean. He stopped and dropped his head in the crook of your neck.
He growled “damn baby. You do that again and I’m going to cum right now.” Dean pulled out and the loss of fullness made you groan. He laid down “climb on top baby. I want to see you.” You positioned your legs on either side of him. You steadied your body with one hand on his chest and took his length in the other lining him back up to you. You pushed down taking all of him in at one time. You both moaned. Deans hands grabbed your hips and held you.
You arched your back showing off your torso and full breasts as they bounced up and down with each thrust. Dean looked up at you and bit his lip. His hands moved to your breasts. You grinded against his hips and he thrusted up. You moaned and so did he.
The sound of moans, kissing and flesh hitting flesh filled the room. This was better than you had imagined. Dean really wanted to and it showed. He wasn’t hurried and each touch was exploring. Memorizing your body.
He leaned up kissing your lips and thrusting up. You moaned loudly and sped up. He lifted his hips to help give you more leverage. You knew he was close. His eyes closed and he grunted, thrusting deeper.
“Oh fuck baby” he groaned. You felt him twitch and his legs fell. When he was ready you moved, laying beside him. Dean rolled over and kissed you gently. “I love you, Y/N”. “I love you too, Dean.”
Dean got up and went to the bathroom to clean himself up. When he came back he brought a warm washcloth and helped clean you. He tossed it to the side and climbed in bed with you. You laid on his chest and he tucked an arm under you. He pulled you close to him. “You’re mine now sweetheart. Now and forever.” He whispered. “You’re mine Dean, now and forever.” You replied.
The two of you drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms. Finally saying the words you both had kept inside. Finally able to see how Dean Winchester not only patched your external wounds but your internal ones too.
Tags: @nescaveckdaily @kr804573 @k-slla @jackles010378 @jawritter @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @roseblue373 @cheynovak @jassackles @chriszgirl92 @suckitands33 @arcannaa @n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78 @smoothdogsgirl @hobby27 @manicjk
#hes gorgeous#jensen ackles#so damn sexy#dean winchester#dean winchester smut#dean winchester x plus size!reader
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✎ Introduction ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
Requests are always open, and you can send as many as you want, as detailed as you want! I just get to them whenever i can/feel like it.
Anon's: 🌹-🕯️-🍁-❤️-🎴-
Other Accounts: @lolas-favfics @lolamultifandom @lolahaurisfw @chowderpop @lolaloa777
AO3: Here
BlueSky: Here
Get To Know Me: Here
Boundaries: Flirting, nicknames, tmi, spam are all okay.😛Just don't copy or repost my stuff. Translations or taking inspo is fine w cred. <3
-> MASTERLIST <- -> EVENT MASTERLIST <-
DNI: MAP, ZOO, Pro-Para, Pro-Ana, TERF, Zionist, Bigots, Minors!!!, Discourse Blogs. ❤️🖤🤍💚
Things I Won't Write: ❌
Sex Crimes of Any Kind, Super Violent/Xtreme Kinks, Inflation, Feederism, Abuse, Puke, Shit, DDLG, Age Play, Raceplay, Wound Fucking, Gore, Vore, Misgendering/Detrans, CBT, Sounding, Fisting, Gunplay, Drugging, Stepcest etc...
Things I Will Write: ✔️
Genderbent Characters, Mild Yandere, Daddy/Mommy Kink, Cheating, Mild BDSM, CNC, Dubcon, Monsters, Hybrids, Sex Pollen, Legal Age Gap, Power Imbalance (Prof/Student, Boss/Employee), Feet, Armpits, Piss, Breeding, Mild Blood/Knifeplay, Cock Warming, Dry Humping, Voyeur, Public Sex, Orgy, 3somes, Sex Toys, Overstim, Edging, etc... etc... :P
Trans Reader, Tall/Short Reader, Chubby/Curvy/Fat/Buff Reader, Other Specific Characteristics. ✔️
Ch x Ch / Ch x Reader / Ch x OC / OC x Reader / Poly Ships of any kind.
F/F, M/M, F/M, GN/F, GN/M, Poly Ships of any kind.
Now that that's out of the way, here's the list of fandoms and characters i'm familiar with and will happily take requests on! (you can request other characters from these fandoms, but it might take me longer!)
Adventure Time/Fiona & Cake: PB, Marceline, Marshall Lee, Winter King, Candy Queen, Simon, Ice King, Fiona.
Attack On Titan: Armin, Eren, Mikasa, Sasha, Levi, Hanji, Annie, Historia, Reiner, Erwin, Ymir.
Avatar: Jake, Neytiri.
Batman Begins Triology: Batman, Catwoman, Bane, Joker, Scarecrow.
Bee & Puppycat: Bee, Deckard, Cass, Toast.
BigBang Theory: Raj, Leonard, Penny, Amy.
Black Dynamite: Honeybee, Black Dynamite.
BNA: Michiru, Shirou.
Bob’s Burgers: Bob, Linda.
Breaking Bad: Jesse, Skylar.
Call of Duty: Konig, Ghost, Mace, Keegan, Krueger, Valeria, Farah.
Creepypasta: Jeff, Jane, Ben, Toby, EJ, LJ, Slenderman, Splendorman, Clockwork, Kate, Masky, Hoodie,
Desperate Housewives: Bree, Gabi, Edie, Lynette, Carlos, John.
Dirty Dancing: Johnny, Baby.
Earth Girls Are Easy: Mac, Zeebo, Wiploc, Valerie.
Elemental: Wade, Ember.
Encanto: Isabela, Bruno, Dolores, Julieta.
FNAF Movie: Vanessa, Mike, William/Steve.
Frozen: Elsa, Anna, Kristoff.
Futurama: Leela, Fry, Amy, Bender.
Gravity Falls: Ford, Stan, Soos, Melody, Giffany, Bill.
Jane The Virgin: Jane, Michael, Petra, Luisa, Rose, Rogelio, Xiomara.
Jurassic Park (1993): Ian Malcolm, Ellie Sattler.
Jujutsu Kaisen: Gojo, Choso, Nanami, Sukuna.
King of the Hill: Hank, Peggy, Luane, Nancy, Dale, Khan, Min, John Redcorn.
Lisa Frankenstein: Lisa, Creature, Taffy.
Little Mermaid (2022): Ariel, Eric.
MHA: Dabi, Hawks, Aizawa.
Moon Knight: Moon System, Layla, Khonshu.
Mulan: Mulan, Li Shang.
National Treasure: Benjamin, Riley.
Nintendo: Link, Zelda, Peach, Daisy, Rosalina, Luigi, Bowser, Waluigi.
Norbit: Rasputia, Norbit.
Princess & The Frog: Tiana, Lottie, Naveen, Shadow Man.
Ratatouille: Colette, Linguini.
Regular Show: Mordecai, Margret, Eileen, CJ, Benson.
Resident Evil: Karl Heisenberg, Carlos Oiliveria, Lady Dimitrescu.
Rick and Morty: Rick, Jerry, Beth, Doofus Rick.
Riverdale: FP Jones, Hiram.
Scott Pilgrim vs. The World: Kim, Ramona, Gideon, Wallace.
Scream 5: Amber, Tara, Sam.
Serial Mom: Chip, Beverly.
Silverado: Slick, Rae, Mal, Paden.
Shallow Hal: Rosemary, Hal.
Shameless: Lip, Fiona, Kev, V.
SheRa (2018): All Adults.
Sherlock (2010): Sherlock, John Watson.
Slashers & DBD: Brahms, Ghostface, Michael Myers, Jason Vorhees, Pyramid Head, The Spirit, Huntress, Trapper, Wraith, Trickster, Pearl, Jennifer Check, Stu Matcher, Billy Loomis, Tiffany Valentine, Patrick Bateman, Thomas Hewitt, Vincent Sinclair, Eric Draven, The Artist, Amanda Young.
Spiderverse: Miguel, Jessica Drew.
Spongebob: Dennis, Man Ray.
Squid Games: Gi-Hun, Sae-Byeok, Ali, Sang Woo.
Steven Universe: Garnet, Amethyst, Peridot, Lapis, Jasper, Blue Diamond, Rose, Greg.
Stardew Valley: All Adult Humans (Except George & Evelyn)
Stranger Things: Robin, Billy Eddie, Chrissy, Hopper.
Supernatural: Sam, Dean, Castiel.
Super Store: Amy, Jonah, Dina, Garrett, Cheyenne.
Tangled: Flynn, Rapunzel, Mother Gothell.
The Batman (2022): Batman, Riddler.
The Breakfast Club: John Bender, Allison Reynolds.
The Nanny: C.C, Fran, Maxwell.
Total Drama Island: S1 Contestants, Chris, Chef, Blainley.
Triple Frontier: Frankie, Santiago.
Turning Red: Ming Lee, Jin Lee.
Twilight: Edward, Carlisle, Alice, Charlie.
YOU: Beck, Joe, Peach, Love.
Young Sheldon: Mary, Connie.
~
Abel Morales (A Most Violent Year)
Astarion (Baulder’s Gate 3)
Babbo Natale (Violent Night)
Barbie (Barbie 2023)
Basil Stitt (Lightning Face)
Beverly Goldberg (The Goldbergs)
Bruce (Beyond Therapy)
Charles Ingalls (Little House on the Praire)
Charlie Dompler (Smiling Friends)
Chel (Road to El Dorado)
Dale Kobble (Longlegs)
Dan Conner (Rosanne)
David Levinson (Independence Day)
Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)
Doug Remer (Baseketball)
Duke Leto Atreides (Dune)
Fezzik (Princess Bride)
Francine (American Dad)
Fujimoto (Ponyo)
Georgia Miller (Ginny & Georgia)
Jack Harrison (Translyvania 6-5000)
Jackson Rippner (Red Eye)
Jon Arbuckle (Garfield 2024)
John Doe (John Doe Game)
Jonathan Levy (Scenes from a Marriage)
John Wick (John Wick 4)
King Baldwin (Kingdom of Heaven)
Kitten (Breakfast on Pluto)
Laurent LeClaire (In Secret)
Linda Gunderson (Rio)
Llewyn Davis (Inside Lleywn Davis)
Master Chief (Halo)
Mike (5lbs of Pressure)
Moe Doodle (Doodle Bops)
Nani Palekai (Lilo & Stitch)
Nathan Bateman (Ex Machina)
Outcome-3 (The Bourne Legacy)
Orestes (Agora)
Paul Blart (Paul Blart: Mall Cop)
Paul Cable (Last Stand at Saber River)
Peggy Bundy (Married With Children)
Peter Mitchell (3 Men & A Baby)
Poe Dameron (Star Wars)
Prince John (Robin Hood 2010)
Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd (Top Gun: Maverick)
Rose Tyler (Doctor Who)
Shiv (Pu-239)
Stanley Ipkiss (The Mask)
Star-Lord (Gaurdians of the Galaxy)
Tate Langdon (AHS: Murder House)
The Janitor (Willy’s Wonderland)
Thomas Magnum (Magnum, P.I 1980)
William Tell (The Card Counter)
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Ducks on Plaster- B. Barnes
pairings: bucky barnes x reader warnings: injuries, reader does not have artistic abilities, i haven’t written bucky in so long, i am so so sorry if this is awful about: request! (PF34) person a has a cast, and person b is doodling on it to cheer them up + (PK9) kissing scars, bruises, scratches, etc notes: projecting. i can indeed only draw ducks and they come out damn well
“Okay. You know I’m not a very good artist,” you say forewarningly, glancing up at him for emphasis, “so I do ask that you lower your expectations starting now.”
Bucky raises an eyebrow at you, chin lifting to assess the damage, but you place your hand over your work; fat, wobbly lines peeking out from under your fingers like dark, plastically foreboding veins.
“I’m not done yet,” you protest.
“People usually warn how shaky the board is just before they tell you to walk the plank.”
You wrinkle your nose, going back to your drawing. Your lines are haloed with sharpie bleed, the tip of your marker dented with little plaster crumbs. You persevere, twirling it between your thumb and forefinger to make one wonky eye. “That’s not an expression I’ve heard before.”
“Doesn’t it get the point across, though?”
You contemplate it, trying to concentrate on ellipsing the circles. “I guess, yeah.”
“Because my analogies work.”
“Again, I guess,” you shrug. Carefully, because you’re overly focused on your loops.
“That’s what I told Sam. But he says they have to be relatable.” Bucky shakes his head and smacks his lips. “You don’t have to have searched for a needle in a haystack to know that it’s fuckin’ hard to find.”
You frown at your creation, lifting your sharpie off the plaster as if insulted and then dipping to the opposite end of the cast to draw a curvy flower with petals fat at their ends leading to a small source. The ink is fading and scratchy, but it’s objectively better than your first attempt at another edge, its start inky and confident, petals losing their roundness and symmetry until they gave away to a lousy lump trailing off.
Renewed, you finish your first masterpiece.
“That one looks good,” Bucky offers, referring to the flower. It’s groovy-style, practice showed. “No artist, my ass.”
“You’re not supposed to look yet,” you chide quietly, not looking up.
“It’s right in front of me,” he reasons, but he looks away and flops down onto the bed, lifting his head to observe the focus lining your features, the tip of your tongue peeking out at the corner of your lips.
“It’ll be worth it,” you insist passively.
“Sure.” Bucky knows this very well. Likewise, you know very well how impatient Bucky is. “But I want to see.”
You roll your eyes, a canine pinning your lip from curving into a smile. You pull back with satisfied drama, making a show of pushing the cap back on the marker. You twirl it between your fingers, missing the second twist and making it fly to your side. “Done.” You dip down and press a kiss right above your little cartoon. “You can look.”
Bucky sits up, leaning over his arm to get a good look. An eyebrow goes up, its sharpness rounded by the blue that meets your eyes. “It’s a duck.”
He’s correct. A huge beak erupts from a bowling pin, prickly stalks shooting out from the bottom. “It's a duck,” you repeat, a lot more enthused about it. Your index taps rapidly against it. “Isn’t it cute? It’s the only thing I can draw.” You trace the petaled headband it flaunts. “It has a flower hat,” you say excitedly, nose wrinkling with pride. You glance at it once more. “A flower hat. I didn’t have any colors, but I figure, it’s fun. You can fill it in when you’re bored.”
Bucky nods. “I like it.”
“Of course you like it,” you say axiomatically. “It’s a duck with a flower hat. Look, he’s so happy.”
Bucky complies, amused lines at the pinches of his eyes visible from your angle. There are no delighted wrinkles that indicate it, but somehow he can see you’re right. The duck is happy. “It’s great,” he says, chiseled with a happy authenticity unlike him. Somehow, you pull all sorts of things he doesn’t expect from him.
“I can do a variety of costumes,” you continue, your voice an echo of a saleswoman’s, but you’re tendered with dulcet excitement, the twitch of your pen at his cast proof of how gladly gratuitous your service is. “Bunny ears, complete with the cotton-ball-tail, maid, with the little cap and feather duster, I can even do you!”
“How about we do that another time?” he requests, sitting up to hold your shoulders. His eyes are twinkling when you meet them, mind hazy with the sparkly trail his fingers leave as they drop down to your waist. “‘Cus you’ve been down there for so long and I only took time off to have you…” He pulls you toward him, and you go like a rag doll over his chest, not expecting his strength, never expecting his strength no matter how many times he shows it to you. “A little closer.”
You’re delighted, nuzzling your face into his shoulder the moment you land on his chest. You’re careful to not touch his injured leg as he settles you beside him. Like instinct, your chin gravitates to the nearest part of him, tilting a little to kiss the underside of his jaw. A bite of purple catches your attention, a grape-sized oval already haloed green.
“You have a bruise under your chin,” you tell him after a moment, a gentle thumb raising to graze it. The contact should hurt no matter how tenderly you do it, but it doesn’t. Nothing hurts with you. “How’d that happen?”
“Who can keep track?”
“Well, I’d like to,” you muse. He feels your nail hovering just above his adam’s apple when you lean up and press your kiss to his injury. It blooms everything but pain.
“Well, if that’s the way you’re doin’ it…”
You chuckle, another kiss laid at the corner of his lips. He’s sure you can taste the metal from a fresh cut, but if you do, you don’t mind, punctuating your point with another kiss now fully on his lips, your index turning his face toward you. He’s thrilled to oblige.
He refuses to let you pull away completely when you finally do, trailing after you to press another, softer kiss against you. It’s only to taste you one last time; as if he’d been too caught up in its nectar to prepare himself to say goodbye.
“Aren’t days off nice?” you beot.
“Can’t say no right now.”
You wrinkle your nose at him, bumping your nose against his cheekbone in retaliation. “Right now?”
He drags a thumb along a naked stretch of skin he finds under your sweater, grinning boyishly. “Especially right now,” he corrects.
You lean in closer, air pregnant with your implicit secrecy from the walls. He can feel your heart thrum from your proximity. “It was my duck, right?”
He can’t help but laugh, nodding earnestly into the crook of your neck. “I love you,” he tells you like he needs to. Totally unrelated but so sewn into everything that it’s a requirement to put into the world before he can do anything else. He nudges your nose with his, humoring you. ”Mhm. What else could it be?”
You crack through your theatrics, face breaking into a smile as you kiss him, thumbing a light crescent moon right beneath his right eye. He can already feel it heal with your glittering touch.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes ff#bucky barnes x reader fluff#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes fanfic fluff#bucky barnes fanfiction fluff#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fic fluffy#bucky barnes fic fluff
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Red, White & True: Manhattan & Brooklyn (1/?)
Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers (future x curvy Millennial Female!Reader), Pepper Potts, Sam Wilson Word Count: 4k Summary: "There was an idea..." Words at the heart of what brought the Avengers together. Pepper Potts has persuaded Steve Rogers to step up and help again - but this time in a battle to The White House. She invites you to consider a key position.
Content/Warnings: none
Notes: This takes place in a post-Endgame scenario where Steve stays and generally most of TFATWS happened.
Prologue | Series
↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
[MAY 15 - Manhattan, New York]
You try not to hold still while you wait in the lobby, but you’re nervous and the longer you sit, the more difficult it is to resist drumming your fingers, tapping your foot, jiggling your right leg as it’s crossed over your left, or even just chewing on your bottom lip.
You’re not anxious at all over meeting with Pepper, but what has you on alert is the possibility that you could theoretically meet Steve Rogers, former Captain America, today.
You take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. The lobby of Stark Industries is immaculate, all sleek lines and modern design. The large windows let in plenty of natural light, making the space feel open and inviting despite its corporate purpose.
Your mind wanders back to your college days when you’d walked into a different Stark Industries lobby for the first time, a hopeful intern wanting to make a difference at the then-new Stark Foundation office. Pepper had been very involved in building the Foundation at the time, and had become a key mentor and - as the years passed and you left Stark Industries - a dear friend. She had helped fuel some of your late-night study sessions through grad school. Living in a new state, she had shown up and seen you through breakups, family drama, and the stress of putting together your thesis. Even when your paths diverged, you'd managed to stay in touch.
Back then, she’d become like the older sister you never had, seeing you through some of the difficult years figuring out how to be a real adult. Now, here you are, waiting to potentially join a presidential campaign she’s orchestrating for none other than Steve Rogers.
The receptionist's voice startles you out of your reverie. "Ms. Potts will see you now."
You stand, smoothing down your carefully chosen outfit - professional, but not stuffy. As you follow the receptionist down the hallway, your mind races with possibilities. What position could Pepper have in mind for you? Your background in political science and your years working in non-profit management seem like they could be useful, but you can't help feeling a little out of your depth.
As you approach Pepper's office, you take a deep breath to steady yourself. The door opens, and there she is - Pepper Potts, looking as poised and confident as ever in a crisp white blouse and tailored navy suit. Her strawberry blonde hair is pulled back in a neat ponytail, and her smile is warm and welcoming.
"It's so good to see you," she says, embracing you in a quick hug. "Come in, please."
You step into her spacious office, taking in the floor-to-ceiling windows with a breathtaking view of the city skyline. Pepper gestures to a comfortable-looking chair across from her desk, and you sit, trying to keep your nerves in check.
"I appreciate you coming on such short notice," Pepper begins. "I know it's been a few years since we’ve been able to catch up - even before the Blip.”
You were among the half who disappeared - still such a strange concept to grasp though you were supposedly settled back in. “I was happy to come! And of course I don’t mind a trip on the Stark Industries dime,” you say with a grin.
"Can I get you anything? Water? Coffee?"
You shake your head. "I'm fine, thanks."
Pepper settles into her chair, folding her hands on the desk. "So, I know I told you we’re putting together the campaign team for Rogers for America, but I'm sure you're wondering more specifically why I called you here."
You nod, leaning forward in your chair, eager to hear Pepper’s vision.
"We're putting together an incredible team," she begins, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "I've been reaching out to some of the brightest minds in politics, economics, and social justice. We have former White House staffers, grassroots organizers, and even a few unexpected faces from the private sector who are eager to contribute their expertise."
You are instantly intrigued, trying to imagine the caliber of people she's describing. Your mind races with possibilities - perhaps that brilliant campaign manager who orchestrated the upset victory in the last Senate race, or the economist whose revolutionary ideas about sustainable development have been making waves in academic circles.
"We've got strategists who are anticipating every move our opponents might make," Pepper continues, "and communications experts who can craft messages that will resonate with voters across the political spectrum.”
You listen intently, trying to pinpoint where you might fit into this powerhouse group.
"There's Maria Hill," Pepper continues, "who's handling security and intelligence briefings. She's got connections that'll be invaluable. Then there's Peter Parker - you might know him as Spider-Man - he's officially our youth outreach coordinator, but he's also got a brilliant scientific mind that we're tapping into for policy development."
Your eyebrows raise at the mention of Spider-Man.
Pepper leans forward, her eyes locking with yours. "But here's the thing - we're not just assembling a team of political operatives and policy experts. We need people who understand the heart of what we're trying to do, who can see the bigger picture and help keep us grounded in our core values."
Your heart begins to race as you start to realize where this might be going.
"That's where you come in," Pepper says, a warm smile spreading across her face. "I've watched your career over the years, how you've navigated the non-profit world, building coalitions and making real change happen. You have a gift for bringing people together, for seeing connections that others miss. Your experience gives you a unique perspective that we desperately need."
Your heart races as you process her words. You had assumed you might be offered some kind of advisory role, perhaps in fundraising or event planning. Maybe even appearance management or offering occasional input on strategy. But from Pepper's tone, it sounds like she has something more substantial in mind.
"Where do you see me on this team?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.
"I've been putting a lot of thought into this," Pepper continues, her voice filled with conviction. “You know we’re doing something unconventional. Did you read the presidential plan?”
You nod. Steve’s bid for President of the United States was still technically not public knowledge. You had signed an NDA - being told only that you were receiving a proposal Pepper wanted your input and consultation on, with potential to join the team if you supported the initiative, and just silence if you didn’t.
“It’s bold, idealistic, aspirational; but it’s also unapologetic, has clear plans of action, and could be transformational in ways we haven’t seen in living memory,” you give your assessment.
“And it’s something you could see yourself being a part of?”
You take a deep breath, but smile genuinely. “I couldn’t sleep the first night after you sent it over. I couldn’t stop reading, hoping, re-reading, imagining possibilities!”
“Good,” Pepper responds. “Perfect.”
“Put me to work wherever you need me!”
“I was hoping you would say that because I have a very specific position I need to get filled, and you’re my first - and only - pick for the job.”
“Pepper, stop holding out!” A nervous and eager laugh escapes you. “Tell me!”
Her response slams into you like a freight train, knocking the air from your lungs.
“Future First Lady.”
You feel your jaw drop in shock, almost hitting the ground as your mind races with disbelief and anger. The room feels like it's spinning as you struggle to process the weight of her words.
"What?" you gasp, your voice barely above a whisper. "Pepper, I... I don't understand. First Lady? But that would mean..."
Pepper holds up a hand, her expression serious. "We're not just running a campaign here. We're trying to redefine what leadership looks like in this country. Steve is an incredible man, and he needs a partner who understands the complexities of modern America, not just a trophy wife, someone who can connect with people from all walks of life."
You shake your head, still reeling. "But I'm not - I mean, Steve and I aren't even - we've never even met!"
"I know," Pepper says softly. "That's part of the plan. We want to show that leadership isn't about who you're married to or what your last name is. It's about vision, compassion, and the ability to bring people together."
Pepper leans back in her chair, her expression at least revealing some concern over your reaction. "I know it's a lot to take in."
"A lot to take in?" you interrupt, your voice rising. "Pepper, it's insane! It’s May, and the election is in November. How could I possibly be the First Lady?"
Pepper holds up a hand, trying to calm you. "I know, I know. Let me explain."
But you're on a roll now, your initial shock giving way to indignation. "Explain what? How you thought it was okay to offer me a position that requires me to be married to a stranger? Use me to score points?”
"I understand your reaction," Pepper says calmly, "but please, hear me out. This isn't about scoring political points or creating some sham marriage. We're trying to redefine what leadership looks like in this country."
You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. "Go on," you say, your voice tight, “because you’re still trotting out marriage.”
"We can’t outright ignore traditional expectations and polling numbers. If Steve were running as the nominee for either of the major parties, we could probably win without him being married, but since he’s running as an independent, he needs a wife. That being said, we want to move away from the traditional concept of the First Lady as just the President's wife," Pepper explains. "The vision is a First Partnership. Two people who work together. There’ve been a few First Ladies who have done more with their platform and position, and that’s what we would want for you, too.”
You chew on your lip, not persuaded yet, but a little less angry.
“We have an opportunity to show what a healthy partnership in marriage could look like to new generations. You’re my first and only choice because of your skills, experience, and the vision I know you would bring to the table. But you’re also my first and only choice because I think you two are well-suited for each other.”
You open your mouth to protest, but Pepper raises her hand to stop you.
“You and Steve don’t have to put on a show and be madly in love - that’s not what I want, that’s not what he wants or expects either.”
You frown. “What does he expect?” you ask. And then you perk up even more. “Has he agreed to this? Shouldn’t he at least be here to make the offer himself?”
Pepper sighs. “It was easier for me to convince him to run in the first place than to agree that he needed a wife.”
“But you’re telling me he did agree?”
Pepper nods. “He did.”
You unconsciously rub the empty space on your left ring finger. “Couldn’t we just get engaged and leave the question of a marriage for whether or not he wins?”
A soft laugh falls from Pepper’s mouth. “He actually asked the same thing.”
“And…?” You raise your eyes expectantly.
“The public would rake us over the coals and accuse us of only doing it as a publicity stunt. The campaign would become a gossip column on your relationship status and nothing more.”
“But isn’t it a publicity stunt?”
“We can spin a marriage that seems to appear out of nowhere. Steve’s always been a private person when it comes to his personal life. We will tell people you met through me - which is true. I thought you were well-suited for each other - which I do. When people asked why the wedding just before announcing his bid for the presidency, we tell them you two didn’t want your relationship status to become the big question on everyone’s minds so they can focus on the platforms and policies instead and that every marriage takes work regardless of the length of the courtship.”
You sit in stunned silence for a moment, trying to process everything Pepper has said. The idea of marrying someone you've never met, let alone becoming the First Lady of the United States, seems utterly surreal. And yet, there's a part of you that's intrigued by the challenge, by the opportunity to make a real difference on such a grand scale.
"I need some time to think about this," you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper.
Pepper nods understandingly. "Of course. It's a lot to take in. But I want you to know that I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't think you were perfect for this role. Not just as a political partner, but as someone who could genuinely connect with Steve."
You raise an eyebrow. "You really think we'd be well-suited?"
"I do," Pepper says with confidence and warmth.
You rub your ring finger again, but this time you see Pepper’s eyes drop to watch your unconscious action, and you quickly stop. Her eyes, when you meet them again, are full of sympathy. You both lost husbands, but you don’t want to talk about it, yet again, and you don’t want to bring up a painful subject for her either.
She can read that in your tight-lipped smile.
So instead she says, “I can give you three days to think it over.”
You sigh and rise from your seat to go. “I don’t know if that’s long enough, but if you give me three days or three weeks, I don’t think it will change my decision I’ll land on. Give me the night to sleep on it. I think I’ll know by tomorrow morning.”
[JUNE 4 - Brooklyn, New York]
Three weeks later, your life has been packed up and put in a truck on its way to the new brownstone in Brooklyn that’s been acquired for you and Steve to move into, and you’re sitting at a table in a café a few blocks away, waiting to meet your future husband for the first time over breakfast. Every time the bell rings over the door, you dart your head to see if it’s him, but he’s evidently running late.
As you wait, checking to see if you have any messages on your phone, the bell over the door chimes once more. This time, when you look up, your breath catches in your throat. A tall, athletic man with dark skin and an easy smile has entered the café. You recognize him immediately as Sam Wilson, the new Captain America. Your heart sinks a little as you realize Steve isn't with him.
Sam spots you and makes his way over, his stride confident but casual. As he approaches, you notice the way his eyes scan the room, a habit born from years of military training and superhero work. He's dressed in civilian clothes - a leather jacket over a simple t-shirt and jeans - but there's no mistaking the aura of strength and capability that surrounds him.
"You must be the future Mrs. Rogers," Sam says with a warm smile, extending his hand. "I'm Sam Wilson. Steve asked me to come apologize and explain - and to have breakfast with you, if you’ll have me.”
You nod, forcing a smile, and shake his hand. "Of course. I understand.” You motion toward the chair across the table from you, inviting him to sit. “I know campaign prep must keep him incredibly busy."
Ever since you’d accepted the proposition to marry Steve Rogers and join him on the campaign trail to the White House, your own life had turned upside down, giving you hardly any time to breathe, and you’d been told this was only a mild version of what your own schedule was going to look like once Steve formally announced.
“Former President Bartlet agreed to meet with him, and the schedules ended up aligning this morning for Steve to go up to New Hampshire for a sit down,” Sam explains.
“President Bartlet?” you can’t help the awe in your voice. “I’d skip out on breakfast with me, too.”
“I hope I’m not a disappointment of a substitute,” Sam teases. “Since we’ll be working together as part of the senior staff, I volunteered because I was eager to finally meet you.”
His smile is genuine, and you feel the absolute truth of his sentiment. It melts away some of your disappointment and worry.
In return, your smile becomes a little warmer and easier. “I can’t help being a little disappointed - since I was hoping to finally meet my future husband - but he’s unemployed and you’re technically Captain America, so I guess it’s really an upgrade.”
Sam laughs. “Oh, I’m going to love you, I can tell.”
“Just promise me he’ll actually be at the ceremony tomorrow?” you ask. Your tone is light, but Sam calls your bluff.
His laughter fades, replaced by a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, he'll be there. Wild horses couldn't keep him away. Or androids. Or aliens. Or wizards. Or..." He trails off, realizing he might be overdoing it. "You get the idea."
You nod, appreciating Sam's attempt at humor. "I hope so. It would be pretty awkward to explain to the press why the groom was a no-show at his own wedding."
"Trust me, Steve takes this very seriously," Sam says, his tone becoming more earnest. "He may not know you yet, but he respects you and the commitment you're making. He's not the type to back out or let you down."
You nod, feeling a mix of relief and nervousness. "I suppose I should get used to schedule changes and last-minute adjustments," you say, trying to keep your tone light.
"It's part of the package," Sam agrees. "But so is having a team of people who have your back, no matter what." He leans forward, his eyes meeting yours intently. "I want you to know that includes me. We're not just colleagues in this; we're family."
His words touch you deeply, and you feel a bloom of warmth in your chest, the firs time you’ve felt grounded since you agreed to do this. "Thank you, Sam," you manage to say. "That means a lot."
The waitress approaches, he orders coffee, and you both order breakfast.
As she walks away, you take a sip of the drink you’d ordered while you were waiting before, mulling over Sam's words. "Can I ask you something, Sam? You know Steve better than almost anyone. Do you think...?”
You hesitate, uncertain if you should voice your doubts to Sam. But his open, friendly demeanor encourages you to continue, and you’re going to need to learn to trust this new circle of people you’ll be surrounded with.
"Do you think this is crazy?" you finally ask, your voice barely above a whisper. "Marrying someone I've never even met, maybe becoming First Lady... it all feels so surreal."
Sam leans back in his chair, considering your question carefully. "Crazy? Maybe," he admits with a small smile. "But then again, I've seen a lot of crazy things in my time with the Avengers. This? This actually feels like one of the more normal things I've been part of."
You can't help but chuckle at that, some of the tension easing from your shoulders.
"Look," Sam continues, his tone becoming more serious. "I won't lie to you. It's not going to be easy. The scrutiny, the pressure, the constant demands on your time and energy - it's going to be a lot. But if anyone can handle it, it's Steve. And from what I've heard about you, I think you're up for the challenge, too."
Sam pauses as the waitress returns with your breakfasts and his coffee. Once she's gone, he continues, "Steve doesn't do anything halfway. When he commits to something, he's all in. And he's committed to this - to you, to this campaign, to trying to make a real difference."
You nod, appreciating his honesty. "And what about... us? Steve and me, I mean. Do you think we can make this work? Not just for the campaign, but as a real partnership?"
Sam's eyes soften. "Steve's one of the best men I know. He's loyal, compassionate, and has a moral compass that doesn't quit. But he's also been through a lot, and he can be... guarded. It might take some time for him to open up fully."
You absorb this information, feeling a mix of apprehension and curiosity about your future husband. "I appreciate your honesty, Sam," you say softly. "I guess we'll both be navigating uncharted waters."
Sam nods, taking a sip of his coffee before responding. "True, but you won't be doing it alone. Not only do you have the support of the team, but I think you and Steve might surprise yourselves. You both have a strong sense of purpose, a desire to help others. That's a solid foundation to build on."
You pick at your breakfast, mulling over Sam's words. "I just hope we can find some common ground beyond the campaign," you admit.
Sam leans in, his expression earnest. "Like I said, when Steve commits to something, he gives it his all. That includes relationships. He may be reserved at first, but once he lets you in, you'll have his unwavering loyalty and support."
You nod, feeling a bit more reassured. "I appreciate that. I’m not some hopeless romantic, I’m not looking to be swept off my feet, but I just hope we can find some chemistry, some spark beyond just being political partners."
Sam chuckles. "Oh, I wouldn't worry too much about that. Steve might be from the 1940s, but he's still a red-blooded man. And you," he gestures at you with his fork, "are definitely his type."
You feel your cheeks flush slightly. "His type?"
"Smart, independent, passionate about making a difference," Sam lists off. “
Your work in non-profits, your passion for social justice - that's right up Steve's alley. Plus, you've got that whole 'take no crap' vibe that he needs. I have a sense about these things, and you have it.”
You laugh, feeling some of the tension dissipate. "Well, I'll take your word for it. Though I have to admit, the idea of being Steve Rogers' 'type' is a bit surreal."
Sam grins. "Trust me, once you two actually meet, you'll see what I mean. Just don't let that 'aw shucks' routine fool you. He might look like an all-American boy scout, but there's a lot more going on under the surface."
You raise an eyebrow. "Oh? Do tell."
Sam shakes his head, still smiling. "Nah, I'll let you discover that for yourself. Where's the fun if I spoil all the surprises?"
You roll your eyes good-naturedly. "Fine, keep your secrets. But seriously, Sam, thank you. For breakfast, for the pep talk, for everything. I'm really glad I got to meet you before tomorrow."
"Me too," Sam says, raising his coffee mug in a mock toast. "To new beginnings and unexpected partnerships."
You clink your own mug against his, feeling a surge of warmth and camaraderie. As you finish your breakfast, the conversation flows easily between you and Sam. He regales you with stories of his adventures with Steve, carefully omitting any classified details but painting a vivid picture of the man you're about to marry.
You learn about Steve's dry sense of humor, his unwavering loyalty to his friends, and his surprising skill at sketching. Sam describes missions where Steve's quick thinking saved the day, but also quieter moments - movie nights with the team, intense debates over board games, and Steve's ongoing struggle to catch up on pop culture.
As Sam talks, you find yourself leaning in, captivated by these glimpses of reality, getting to know more about the man behind the myth. And even if the next twenty-four hours will be a whirlwind of you choosing and getting fitted for your wedding dress; interviewing candidates that have been vetted for your personal staff - assistant, pr strategist, stylist, initiative director; and a bachelorette party; you feel like you’ll be able to face it all with the bit of reassurance you’ve gained by spending this time with Sam.
next part: LAS VEGAS & CLEVELAND
↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!
This story will have 3-4 chapters, depending on where I split up the narrative. I anticipate about a chapter a week, usually posted on Fridays.
#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x y/n#steve rogers x yn#red white & true#aspen wrote something#pepper potts#sam wilson
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𝒰𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓁 ℐ ℒℴ𝓈ℯ ℳ𝓎 ℬ𝓇ℯ𝒶𝓉𝒽
Relationship: amazon!lawyer Natasha Romanoff x petite!curvy female reader (Big Red and Peach, NLLYL AU)
Words: ~5.2k
Summary: You and Nat don’t even realize how badly you need each other until you finally meet. But even then, you don’t take the plunge without meddling from your asshole friends.
Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (f/f sex, f receiving oral sex, multiple orgasms, mommy kink), idiots in love, meet cute, slow burn, drunk awkward flirting, age gap (not explicitly stated but it’s there), size difference, fluff, SMUT!! 18+ ONLY!!
A/N: YAAAAAHHH! They are adorable and stupid and sweet and I need all of you to love them as much as I do, they are so precious. This new branch of the NLLYL AU is gonna kill me, just wait until we meet Thor…
I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!
You grumbled to yourself as you downed another shot of tequila, glaring at the bottom of the glass and then at Sam when he tried to walk away with the bottle.
“Hey… uh oh.” Darcy’s smile fell when she wandered up to you and saw the look on your face, eyeing Sam warily when he poured you another shot and shrugged at her. “I was hoping to meet that date of yours, where’d he wander off to?”
“Dunno.” You took another shot and frowned to yourself as you adjusted the front of your costume. “But some leggy blonde bitch was with him.”
“Oh no…” Darcy decided to forego the ‘told you so’ for now since you were drunk, but she had warned you that dudes that were willing to admit they might have overlapped the relationship they had before with yours probably shouldn’t be trusted. “Fuck him, honey.”
“Fuck all men.” You toasted no one and tossed back another shot, nodding to Sam when you slammed your glass on the bar and leaning on Darcy pretty heavily as you waited for him to refill you. “Except you, Sammy, you’re great. And so is Bucky. That big sweetheart.”
“Uh-huh.” Sam reached out whip fast to catch you before you toppled off your bar stool, sighing when you giggled and tried to disguise a heave as a cough. “Maybe you should slow down, baby girl.”
“Hey.” You scowled adorably as you pawed at his chest, slapping his cheek in what you had meant to be an affectionate pat before sighing deeply. “You wanna end up on my shitlist? No? Then keep ‘em coming. Where is Bucky?”
“He’s over in the hall but maybe…” Darcy hissed when you started wobbling away, chasing after you as you sang to yourself and shooting an exasperated look at Sam. “Baby, you need to drink some water.”
“I’m fine, shut up.” You saw Bucky and clapped, pushing Darcy away when she attempted to corral you. “Hiya Buck! I missed you.”
“Did you… wow.” Bucky caught you when you stumbled, chuckling when you breathed a tequila thick cloud right in his face and giving you a moment to find your feet. “I think you took the drunk pirate costume a little too close to heart, honey. Where’s your date?”
“God, it’s like being at a party with my parents.” You rolled your eyes and tried to remain steady when you felt the shots starting to really hit you. “Probably sucking the face off some blonde bitch, we’ve decided he sucks.”
“I’m sorry, honey.” Bucky tweaked your nose when you blew a raspberry at him, turning his head when someone walked up and making you huff at the lack of attention. “Hey Nat.”
“Hi Buck, brought you another beer.”
You were fully prepared to tell whoever was taking up your much needed Bucky time to fuck off, but then you came face to… chest with the most incredible set of tits you’d ever seen in your life. There was only a moment for you to drunkenly scold yourself for that thought, because then you were looking up and up and up and…
“Wow, you’re pretty.” You forgot all about Bucky, grinning sloppily and almost careening over so your face really was in those amazing breasts before her hand was on your waist and you were giggling. “Really really pretty. Why haven’t I met you?”
“Oh, Bucky’s been hiding me, I’m shy.” Nat grinned at her friend over your shoulder when you tried to bat your eyelashes at her but it didn’t quite work since your eyelids were drooping, shaking her head when he gave her an inquisitive look and steadying you with a firm grip on your shoulders. “But he’s been hiding you too, I think. Look at how fucking cute you are.”
Your laugh almost hurt your ears, it was much more shrill than you had intended, a cackle really. Nat didn’t seem to mind though, beaming at you when you slapped her chest then apologized for feeling her up while you tried to step even closer to her.
“Stop, you can’t call me cute.” And she smelled amazing, she was like the warrior princess of your dreams. “Not when you’re walking around like a fucking wet dream. Seriously, why haven’t I met you?”
“Cutie, you’re gonna make me blush.” Nat shushed you when you giggled even more, taking a glass of water when Darcy handed it to her and holding it up to your lips. “I’ve just been busy. Now, why don’t you be a good girl for me and drink some water?”
“Mmmm, you call me a good girl and I’ll do whatever you want.” You gulped down water as she looked at you expectantly, leaning into her touch and sighing heavily when she took the glass away. “Oh my god, let’s go do karaoke!”
“Good morning!” Darcy dropped the greasy burrito bag in front of you and chuckled when you heaved and buried your head in your arms. “How are we feeling today?”
“I shouldn’t be at work.” You winced when you picked your head up and the lights made your brain throb, grumbling as you pulled your breakfast out of the bag and started unwrapping it. “Why did you let me have tequila?”
“You forget that no one ‘lets’ you do anything.” Darcy sank into the chair next to yours and logged on, still giving you that shit eating grin that you hated. “All of us tried numerous times to get the tequila away from you and you always tried to scratch our eyes out. How much of last night do you remember?”
“I remember Troy being a fucking douchebag, setting up at the bar, and then…” you froze with a mouthful of burrito when panic started to set in, heat flushing through your whole body as you barely remembered to swallow your food and images from last night flashed through your head. “Did… did I hit on Bucky’s best friend?”
“Oh, you did more than that.” You didn’t even notice Darcy’s chuckling, too horrified at yourself to smack her like you normally would. “You serenaded her. You practically gave her a lap dance while you sang ‘Do You Wanna Touch’, I have it on video if you want to see.”
“Nooooooooo…” you were going to run away and become a mountain hermit, you could not believe you had made such an ass out of yourself in front of probably the most beautiful woman on the planet who was so much older than you and tall and put together and that was it, your life was over.
“Yes, it was a great time, everyone enjoyed it.” Darcy gave you a pat on the back when you sobbed and banged your head against the desk. “It’s fine, everyone will call you Joan Jett for a couple of weeks and then one of the guys will do something stupider and they’ll forget all about it.”
“But I won’t forget, oh my fucking god!” You vaguely remembered the gorgeous redhead helping you into your Uber and smiling at you when you told her you were going to climb her like a tree and call her mommy, and suddenly it felt like your burrito was about to come back up. “How the fuck am I supposed to face Bucky?!?!?”
“Hi Joan!” Damn it, it was like you’d summoned him, at least his smile was tinged with sympathy when he handed you a bottle of Gatorade. “How’s your head?”
“Who cares, Bucky!” You wanted the ground to open up and swallow you. “Please tell me I didn’t sexually harass your friend to the point where she never wants to see you again.”
“Nat? Don’t worry about her, she had a great time.” You couldn’t decide if that should make you feel better or worse. “Said if all my parties with coworkers are like that she’s gonna have to try to make it to every single one of them.”
“Of course she did.” You hated your life, you were going to give up drinking and sex and only get your enjoyment from food from now on. “Who wouldn’t have a good time watching someone make an absolute buffoon out of themselves while they’re shit faced? Please tell me I never have to face that woman?”
Bucky was about to reassure you when the door behind him opened suddenly and you squeaked and dove under the desk, looking over his shoulder and sighing when Nat was there. She looked relaxed and incredibly pleased with herself, nodding at Bucky when he sighed with exasperation and coming to lean on the counter right above where you were hiding while she chuckled as you asked if she was gone yet.
“Hey, cutie?” Nat was trying not to laugh too much when you squeaked again then whined when the table thumped after you cracked your head against it. “Sweetheart, I think you might be missing your wallet.”
You were, you hadn’t been able to find it this morning and ended up hopping the turnstile so you could make it to work on time. Nat was giving you what you could only describe as a look of warm amusement when you finally crawled out from underneath the desk to face her, she was so gorgeous, and you looked like warmed over vomit, this was potentially the worst day of your life. She was holding your wallet between two fingers as she smirked at you, watching you closely while you took it from her and biting her lip in a way that didn’t make you feel anything.
“Where did you find it?” She was freaking you out, you couldn’t get a read on her.
“Hmm, you gave it to me.” You had shoved it down the front of her costume, but seeing how small you looked right now made her think it might not be the best idea to bring that fact up. “You said you were going to give me your card and told me to call you, then gave me the whole wallet.”
“My card? It’s not the nineties.” You hated your life. “Thank you for bringing it back, you could’ve just given it to Bucky, though.”
“But then I couldn’t have seen you again.” That smile was going to knock you on your ass, she was so unnerving. “And I’d take any excuse to see a pretty thing like you.”
“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes and scoffed when she winked at you, what a fucking tease. “Don’t flirt with me, I already feel like shit.”
“That’s not what I want, sweetheart.” She couldn’t get enough of that sassy look on your face, just wanted to eat you up. “You should feel good all the time.”
“Bucky, tell your friend I have to work.” You tried not to feel too warm and bubbly when she kept grinning at you, play flirting was not what you needed right now. “But thank her for bringing my wallet back.”
“You are so very welcome, sweet girl.” She shook her head as she straightened back up. “Pretty as a peach. Let’s go get some coffee, Barnes. You ladies want anything?”
“No thanks.” Darcy still had that damn grin on her face once they were gone and now you were itching to smack her. “Um, why were you rude to someone who was clearly hitting on you?”
“She was not hitting on me.” You snorted as you started digging back into your burrito and focusing on your screen. “Have you seen her? She’s an amazon sex goddess, she’s not going to hit on me.”
“You… oh my god, you’re so fucking stupid.” Darcy wanted to bang her head against the wall, you were too stubborn for your own good. “She’s into you.”
“No she’s not.”
“She is, you fucking moron.”
“She is not, you balloon chested bimbo.”
“Hey!” Darcy balled up a tissue and threw it at you, sticking her tongue out when you scowled at her. “That was mean, you lollipop guild reject. And yes she is.”
“You wanna tell me what exactly you’ve been doing these past few months?” Bucky frowned at Nat when she tried to act like she was paying attention to the game behind him and sipped her beer innocently.”
“Not quite sure what you mean.” She knew exactly what he meant, but she wasn’t going to admit to anything when he was giving her that stern father look.
“Uh-huh.” Bucky loved her, but getting the woman to open up was like trying to crack a walnut with his bare hands. “Don’t think I’ve seen you around the precinct so much since I started there.”
“I’m just helping my clients.” She should’ve ordered vodka if she knew the conversation was heading this way. “It’s my job.”
“Every single client that comes through the 82?” Bucky tapped the bar top while she still avoided his gaze. “Because I seem to remember Matt and Maria handling most of them, since you’re the face of the firm.”
“Excuse me for taking a more hands on approach.” Nat managed to flag down the bartender and finally ordered her vodka. “I’m a philanthropist.”
“You’re full of shit.” Bucky rolled his eyes when she just shrugged. “You need to spend so much time at the front desk every time you come in?”
“I have to fill out paperwork.” She sipped on her new drink and sighed as she finally turned her attention to him. “And it’s nice chatting with the girls.”
“Both of them?” He tried not to grin when she blushed and stared at the bottom of her glass, reaching out to cover her hand with his and giving her a small squeeze. “Natasha, you haven’t slept with anyone in two months.”
Nat hated when Bucky looked at her like that, like he knew all her secrets better than she did. Of course she’d been hanging around the precinct and flirting like an idiot, she couldn’t stop thinking about you. Feisty, sassy, ‘take no shit from anyone’ you. Everything about you was so fucking cute, especially when you gave her that massive fucking attitude whenever she flirted with you. All she wanted was to pick you up and kiss you stupid to get you to quit running that smart mouth. She thought she’d done a good job of hiding her feelings, though.
Damn Bucky for being able to read her like a damn book.
“That doesn’t mean anything.” It meant everything, she loved sex, but she didn’t want to have it with anyone else. “I’m busy.”
“Would you quit lying.” Bucky leaned forward and bonked her head with his, smiling when she pouted at him and kissing her cheek. “You have big feelings for the little lady, so why don’t you admit it and finally ask her out?”
All she wanted was to ask you out, but it fucking terrified her.
Which was ridiculous. She could have anyone she wanted with the crook of her finger. Men and women fell on their fucking knees for the chance at just one night with her. They would eat out of the palm of her hand and they would thank her when she sent them on their way with just a cup of coffee and a fancy pastry in the morning.
But you?
You weren’t interested. Every time she flirted you would just dismiss her and tell her you had too much to do, even when you called her beautiful. You would always call her mean for being such a tease and tell her the only reason you let her get away with that shit is because she was so gorgeous. Even after so many months she hadn’t worn you down at all, which was kind of cute, but also ridiculously frustrating. All she had managed was to glean some small kernels of personal information from you and hold onto them like they were the most precious things in the world, because damn it, she wanted to know everything about you.
“It’s just nice right now.” Nat rested her head on Bucky’s shoulder and blew out an exasperated breath. “If I don’t ask, she can’t say no.”
“That’s what you’re scared of?” Bucky kissed the top of her head when she nodded. “Holy shit, babe. I don’t think you’ve ever even considered rejection a possibility, this is one for the books.”
“Shut up.” Nat scrunched up her face when he wound his arm around her and gave her a squeeze. “She’s so fucking cute, it freaks me out.”
“Yeah.” He took a sip of his beer while he thought things over, rubbing her shoulder absentmindedly and chewing on his lips. “You’ve gotta ask though, I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”
“You’re in such a fucking snit.” Darcy frowned at you after you snapped at her for nothing, rolling her eyes when you just sniffed and ignored her. “Just because your crush hasn’t been here in a whole week, you giant sap.”
“I’m not a sap, shut up.” You huffed and crossed your arms under your breasts with a pout. “I’m PMSing.”
“God, you’re a liar.” She tapped her fingers against the desk irritably when you just kept up the petulant facade. “You want to see her, you’re mad she hasn’t been around, admit it.”
“I. Said. Shut. Up.” You wanted to kick her under the desk, she was so annoying. “I admit nothing.”
“Ugh, whatever, brat.” Darcy turned away from you when someone came up to the desk, grinning when she saw it was Bucky and ignoring your grumbling. “Hiya Bucky! Why hasn’t your friend stopped by in such a long time? It’s annoying my girl, and she’s starting to piss me off with her attitude.”
“My friend… Nat?” Bucky smiled and snuck a peek at you when Darcy nodded, the petulant look on your face a reminder of the friend they were talking about who was also ridiculously stubborn. “She was out of the city for a case, but she’s back now.”
“Oh really?” Darcy did not miss the way you straightened up a little at that, keeping her focus on Bucky while you tried to act like you weren’t listening. “Will she be stopping by anytime soon?”
“She’s actually coming by for lunch and should be here…” both of the meddlers grins got even wider when the door opened and the redhead walked in, ignoring her intrigued stare and turning back to each other. “Speak of the devil. Yours gonna quit being so snotty now?”
“Probably not.” Your squawked ‘snotty?’ was not acknowledged, Darcy still focused on Bucky and decidedly fed up with you being such a stubborn ass. “Don’t think she’ll quit being such a whiny little asshole until yours actually goes on a date with her.”
“Well, Nat was supposed to go out for drinks with me Friday but, gosh, I just remembered I have to wash my hair.” Now Bucky was ignoring Nat when she sighed indignantly. “So her night just freed up, isn’t yours off work?”
“Yes she is.” You were making so many offended noises but Darcy was past caring. “Seven o’clock should work well. Gimme her phone.”
“Yep.” Bucky managed to snatch it out of Nat’s hand before she could react, unlocking it and handing it to Darcy while she grabbed yours and did the same. “I’ll make sure she texts.”
“Me too.” Darcy winked when Bucky gave your phone back to her, waving when he ushered Nat out before she had a chance to protest then turning to beam at you while you just blinked stupidly. “You’re welcome, dumbass.”
Nat had been staring at your door for three minutes.
Her nerves were being ridiculous. This was just a date. She went on dates all the time.
But this was with you.
It had taken a day for her to finally text you the word hi, then another day for you to text her hi back. And then it was like the floodgates had opened. The next three days the two of you were constantly talking whenever you had a moment, finding out everything about each other that you could and Nat smiling whenever a notification popped up like she was a fucking schoolgirl. She was utterly infatuated with you, it was freaking her out. And she loved it.
She finally knocked, holding her breath while she waited for you and grinning when she heard you trip over something and curse. As soon as the door opened she felt like her heart was going to burst through her chest, you looked so fucking beautiful.
The look on her face was making you feel faint, like your tongue was too thick for your mouth and your brain couldn’t function while you gazed up at her and tried not to swoon. You couldn’t believe it was actually happening, that the last few months hadn’t been some colossal joke at your expense. This woman actually wanted to go out with you.
“Hi.” Her voice sounded so fucking sexy, she was going to kill you.
“Hi.” You couldn’t think of anything else to say, licking your lips and trying not to whine when she growled softly.
Next thing you knew you were pinned to the wall in your tiny little entryway with the plushest set of lips you’d ever felt smashed against yours, barely registering your apartment door slamming closed as you whined at the way your toes were barely brushing the floor as Nat wound her arms around your waist. Even when she started kissing down the curve of your neck, you could still hardly breathe, whining when she purred against your skin and trying to focus your eyes but failing miserably.
“Wait, Nat.” You whined when she ducked even lower to gently kiss along the tops of your breasts, gasping when she gave you a hungry look as she sucked a bruise against your skin. “Don’t we have a reservation?”
“Yeah… yeah we do. You say the word and we’ll go right now.” She smiled when you whimpered as she stood back up to her full height, resting her forehead against yours and breathing deeply as she settled her eyes on yours. “But the only thing I want to eat right now is that warm, wet prize between your legs, pretty thing.”
“Oh… wow.” You were pretty sure she was going to kill you, but you were absolutely fine with that. “We can stay.”
“Good girl.”
Natasha pressed her lips to yours and swallowed your yelp when she lifted you to wrap around her, her fingers digging into your hips while she carried you over to the couch. Her grin grew even wider when you let out a surprised huff at her dropping you onto the sofa, your breath getting shallow when she climbed on top of you and slipped her warm palms up your thighs and under your skirt.
“God, you’re so fucking soft.” She curled over you again and sucked on your lips until you moaned, slowly peeling your dress off you and biting her lip when you were finally bare to her gaze. “Beautiful.”
“Shut up.” You couldn’t help but giggle when she laughed at you trying to act coquettish while she had you at her mercy, sighing when she just kissed you and running your fingers up her spine. “Do I get to see you too and call you pretty?”
“When I’m done with my meal.” Nat bit your lip playfully before starting to kiss and lick every inch of your breasts, sucking on your nipples and tugging at them with her teeth while you could only make pathetic noises. “Wanna taste every fucking inch of you.”
“O-kay.” You hiccuped when she nuzzled at your stomach and squeezed your hips with a groan, your eyes fluttering closed when she trailed kisses along your curves. “Sounds great.”
“Mmhm.” She growled playfully and bit your thigh before smacking the side of your ass. “Flip over.”
You did what she asked, slowly rolling onto your stomach and whining when she grabbed two handfuls of your ass and squeezed. Then she smacked it again and you could have screamed, you throbbed so hard, her lips and teeth and tongue marking your sensitive skin until your eyes rolled back in your head.
“Nat…” you whimpered when she kept rubbing your ass and purring against your skin, arching your back and spreading your legs as she pulled your cheeks apart so she could stare at you. “Oh fuck, don’t stop.”
“Never. Fuck, you smell so good.” Nat buried her face between your thighs and groaned when she breathed you in deep, dragging her tongue over your slit agonizingly slow so she could taste all of you. “Jesus Christ, fucking peaches.”
There was no answer you could give her except a desperate mewl, letting yourself sink into the cushions when she slid her tongue inside your cunt and curled it. You feel like you were already losing your mind, panting like an idiot while she rubbed her nose against your cute little asshole and digging your fingers into the couch while she tongue fucked you until your whole body felt like one big spring that was wound too tight.
Your pussy was so fucking wet, Nat couldn’t seem to work her mouth fast enough to suck up everything that was dripping out of you, even with her lips wrapped around you so she didn’t miss anything. And the fact that you could hear all the obscene wet sloshes and slurps was not helping, your muscles spasming wildly as you felt it building up insanely fast.
“Fuck… oh fuck.” All you could do was let out a thin, high whine when you fell apart, your cunt fluttering against her lips and gushing into her mouth while she groaned at the taste of your cum. “Mommy…”
“Shit. You had me thinking you were never gonna actually say it, peach.” Nat grinned against you and hummed as she kept kissing your pussy like she could live off it. “Knew you’d be a good girl for mommy, knew this pussy would be so sweet for me. Why don’t you fuck it on my face, pretty girl? Make a goddamn mess out of me, mommy needs it.”
Yeah, she was definitely going to kill you. You reached back and buried your fingers in her hair as you started grinding your ass back into her face, biting the pillow under your face and whimpering when her tongue flicked against your clit. Then her thumb teased against your asshole and your brain broke, your hips writhing wildly when she sucked on your clit until you almost came before she pulled back with a wicked grin.
“Knew you’d like that, just look at you.” Nat bit her lip when she watched your little hole wink at her as she spat on it, her thumb circling the tight ring of muscle slowly and listening to your pathetic sounds as she kept flicking her tongue over your slit like a tease. “These are all mommy’s holes now, peachy girl. Gonna spoil the shit out of you.”
The way you gasped when she slid her thumb into your ass and started flitting her tongue around it was making Natasha clench, her thighs squeezing together when you shoved your hips back even more and yanked on her hair so she was practically suffocating you. She didn’t realize how much she was going to enjoy you completely losing it for you and using her just so you could get off, deciding very quickly that she was going to need to turn you into a mess all the time.
You were going to come again. All the buildup and how fucking sexy she sounded when she moaned and slurped and spat and just, all of it. Damn her and her incredible mouth and how fucking hot she was. And damn you for turning into such a fucking melty mess for her, though who could really blame you for that.
“Mommy please.” You whimpered when she kept fucking your ass with her thumb as her other hand began playing with your clit and you couldn’t help but kick your feet as you felt yourself teetering on the edge again. “Please, wanna come for mommy, need it.”
“Mmm, mommy needs it too, pretty baby.” Nat nipped at the soft skin that was twitching around her thumb while her other hand pinched your clit until you squeaked. “Come for me, sweet girl, let mommy drink from this perfect little pussy, oh my fucking god.”
You almost screamed when she ducked low to suck on your swollen clit, pulling on her hair and screwing your eyes closed while your body started shaking uncontrollably. Nat groaned when you started gushing all over her face, wrapping her mouth around your soft lips and swallowing everything you gave her with a low moan that sent a shiver up your spine. She loved that you couldn’t stop moving against her face as you rode it out, determined to be able to watch your face the next time she made you come and every single time after that.
Her lips spread in a slow smile when you kept shivering as she pulled back from your sex, moving her hands to knead your cheeks deeply while she rested her head against your hip and watched you ride it out. You couldn’t do anything except chirp and let your body sink into the couch, barely having the energy to turn your face and peek over your shoulder at her while a sloppy grin split your face.
“Hiiiiiiii.” Again, you couldn’t think of what else to say, especially since your brain was still mostly offline after two incredible orgasms that were better than anything any man had ever given you.
“Hey baby.” She couldn’t stop smiling as she crawled up your body and nuzzled at your cheek, purring happily when you let out a small sound of satisfaction and wrapping her arms around your waist to hold you as close as possible. “My sweet girl. I do feel a little bad about us missing dinner, but I couldn’t control myself.”
“Listen, that’s fiiiiiine with me.” You let her flip you onto your back and pulled her face to yours so you could lose yourself even more in kissing her. “You can kill me with orgasms tonight and it will be a very happy death.”
“You might be fine with that, but I’m not.” Nat chuckled into your mouth when you just gave her a pitiful little whimper. “Sorry, I’m kinda addicted to that pussy now, sweet peach. I’d get all bummed out if I didn’t have access to it for the rest of my life.”
“Oh, well.” You were not used to this level of attention, and it was even worse when you were in such a state of euphoria. “That’s okay too.”
“Good.” She pecked you once more before sitting up over you, gushing you when you whined at the lack of contact before winking when you swallowed audibly at the sight of her body when she pulled her dress over her head. “Now, should we take a bath before or after I rub my pussy all over yours until I come inside you?”
#natalie writes#no love like your love: the city#big red and peach#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha romanoff x fem!reader#natasha romanoff x plus size reader#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff smut#natasha smut#female reader insert#female reader#scarlett johansson#scarlett johansson character#scarlett johansson smut#marvel x reader#marvel smut#marvel fanfiction#eighteen and over#eighteen plus
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lies and love
GIF by marks-hoffman
pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader
warnings: feels, fluff, a little angst, and some silliness.
words: 2.8k
notes: decided to not go full smut with this one, but there will be something smutty and probably bucky related posted soon lol thank you in advance for reading and as always, comments and reblogs are welcome and so so appreciated! 🩵
You suck in a sobering breath as you spot Bucky at the kitchen table, sitting with nothing but a mug of coffee in front of him and a stoic look on his perfectly chiseled face. His flesh hand is holding his head as he rubs at his temple with his thumb.
Are you really gonna do this?
Sam sees you in your pause at the corner of the hallway and comes up to meet you.
“You look like you’re having regrets, but I am begging you, please don’t go back on me now,” he whispers as you both look on at Bucky still alone in the kitchen.
“I don’t know, Sam… This feels kind of mean.”
“Don’t think of it as being mean, think of it as you making my day!”
You turn to fix him with an unimpressed look but he speaks before you can.
“And making an easy hundred bucks,” he adds with raised brows.
You sigh again.
“Come on! I heard all the jabs he’s taken at you this week, it’s not like he doesn’t have a little prank coming his way.”
You can’t help but agree with that. Bucky had been being a jerk to you this past week, you still have no idea why, but once he and Sam left for their mission, you had kind of forgotten about it in favor of the memory of him leaving that night.
Bucky showed up to your room just before he was due to leave, looking nothing short of conflicted and upset. You were starting to feel much the same. You and Bucky were close…had been close at least. This past week saw the most distance between you you’d ever experienced, and his added jabs at your expense out of nowhere had left you a little hurt, and even more so, perplexed. You had no clue what had happened but you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, like he always gave you when you had a needless attitude. You thought to just give him some space and when he was due home from this mission, you could talk and figure things out then. You normally would be at the jet saying bye and wishing safe wishes, but tonight you figured he wouldn’t be in the mood to have you there. So opening your door to find him looking so sullen was a bit of a surprise, although not an unwelcome one. You just didn’t want to be the one to speak first, you weren’t sure what he was there for and you didn’t want to assume.
So, you leaned on your door for a second, confused, waiting for him to say something… But he didn’t. You both just stood there, languishing in a tense silence.
It was only a moment later, though, that he surprised you even further. He took a step closer to you, still no words leaving his lips, as he suddenly wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest for the tightest hug you’d ever shared. You returned it without thought, despite how he’d been making you feel the past few days. It was your natural reaction, and hugging Bucky always felt so nice, so right. This hug, though, felt a little different. Almost desperate… You knew something was up, and even though you knew you didn’t have the time right now to get into things, you had to ask him, you couldn’t not,
“Are you okay?” you questioned quietly, tone soft as he kept you close. But when you spoke, it was like your voice broke him out of some kind of trance.
He pulled away then, slowly letting you go as his intent blue gaze stayed on you.
“When I get back,” he rumbled lowly, “can we talk?”
Your brows furrowed, but you still nodded, “Yeah, of course.”
He opened his mouth, as if he was going to say more, but stopped himself before he did. He took a step back, eyes never leaving you.
“Be safe,” you told him as you rubbed your arm, hugging yourself - trying to replicate the warmth you were already missing. Your words earned you a sullen half smile before he finally looked away and headed back down the hall…
It’d been a long couple days.
Sam and Bucky had gotten in late last night and you hadn’t had the chance to talk with Bucky yet. In fact, this was the first time you’d gotten to see him since they got in. Sam, on the other hand, made it his mission to wait up until five am to ambush you in the gym with this incredibly juvenile plan of his.
“Tell me again why you want me to do this?” you asked.
“When Bucky was sleeping on the way back last night, he kept talking out loud, mumbling things… Look, truth be told, he probably has a concussion because he’s been in and out of it since he took a fall from the top floor of the building we were clearing, but he’s been being a dick to me since we left the other day so I don’t feel bad about messing with him a little bit.”
“And you think this is going to be believable to him because?”
“Because I mentioned your name when we were landing and he grabbed me by my shirt and told me to keep his girl’s name out of my mouth. He also very possibly thought I was Zemo telling by the threats that followed, but that’s beside the point. He asked me three times if you were single, if you and him were just friends, or if you guys were dating - not to mention the other questions he keeps asking me every time he sees me, so I know his head is all scrambled right now. But look, don’t think too much about it, I just wanna mess with him a little bit before I take his ass up to the med bay and have Bruce look him over.”
You almost fuzzed out completely at the thought of Bucky calling you his girl, but managed to stay listening enough to catch all of what Sam was saying again. Your gaze was dead set on Bucky as he groaned under his breath, picking up the mug to take a sip before he closed his eyes, squinting in what you can only imagine was a tinge of pain.
This is wrong, and mean, and normally, you wouldn’t do it. But, the selfish part of you, the desperate part, the part who has been in love with Bucky for about as long as you’ve known him, that part, doesn’t want to deny herself the opportunity to pretend, for however short of time, that she was actually his girl.
You know this is messed up, pretending to a possibly concussed Bucky that you are indeed his girlfriend for a little Sam brained prank…but you’re still gonna do it.
Plus, you have to talk to Bucky after this anyway, you’ll get your chance to apologize. And though you can’t be entirely sure what it is Bucky wants to talk about, you’re hopeful it’s an apology from his side, too.
“Alright,” you breathe, “a hundred bucks?”
“A hundred bucks,” Sam smiles.
You suck in your cheeks before you click your tongue and kick a foot forward, taking the first step around the corner to the kitchen.
You walk into the room and Bucky’s gaze perks up as he sees you, eyes wide, but not fully sure how he should be reacting.
You smile as he watches you, trying to gauge your approach as you walk closer.
“There you are,” you say, coming to a stop right beside him. The chair he sits in is angled out from the table and you let your hip lean close into him while you let a hand smooth over his shoulder, snaking behind his neck, squeezing him lightly as he sucks in a breath at your touch. He’s looking up at you, trepidatious and awed.
You lean down and your other hand comes to his stubbled cheek as you guide him closer to you.
“Hey,” you murmur, voice sultry without you even trying. You lean down into him and kiss him, it’s soft and sweet and all too quick as you pull away with a pout.
He still has that dumbfounded look on his face, lips parting too late as he gapes up at you.
“What’s wrong?” you ask, pout still in place, your fingers now playing in the hair at the nape of his neck.
“Huh?” he murmurs dumbly, eyes glued to you as they twinkle.
“Kiss me back,” you complain, though even to you it sounds more like a plea, leaning back into him. He swallows hard before he follows your lead. Your lips press against each other, timidly at first before Bucky gets emboldened by your touch. You murmur into him as his hand comes around your backside, pulling you closer and then down to sit on his lap, his large hand on your hip as he holds you securely.
His once delicate kiss quickly delves into something more fervent and wanting as his hold gets tighter and more possessive.
You have completely lost the plot as you lose yourself in his kiss.
You’re in his lap, practically melting into him as you chase his every kiss, your hands lost in his hair as you try to keep him close to you in turn.
There comes a point in your impromptu makeout session that you are finally forced to pull away for air. You’re breathing hard as you stay in Bucky’s hold, still face to face with him as you try to get a breath in.
“Hi,” he finally greets back, sounding breathless himself.
You laugh a smile before you hear Sam enter the kitchen behind you, clapping loudly as your brows scrunch in confusion at the sound.
You turn your head to look at him as Bucky sends a glare in his direction, his hold on you tightening in his annoyance.
“Finally! Took you two bozos long enough. Now I don’t wanna hear anymore complaining from you,” he points at Bucky, “and I don’t wanna see anymore moping, longing puppy eyes from you,” he turns on you. “You’re welcome, and you’re welcome.”
“Wha-” you open your mouth to question him, but you’re stopped as he holds up a hand at you.
“I wasn’t entirely lying, but he already saw Banner and he’s been cleared. Now so is your conscience.”
“Wh-” Bucky begins, but himself is stopped by Sam’s hand now being held up to him before he turns it into a finger gun.
“You’re welcome,” he repeats before walking off, leaving both of you confused.
It’s a long pause between you before Bucky breaks the silence.
“What wasn’t he lying about?” he asks, voice hushed as he sounds almost embarrassed. His eyes are downcast as he stares at your chest, so close to his, but despite his sudden reticence he keeps his hands on you, ensuring you stay where you are.
You should tell him the whole truth, but you can’t get past the embarrassment yet… maybe later, you think. For now,
“Oh, just… something about you, calling me your girl,” you speak slowly, bordering on teasing as you shyly try to meet his gaze.
When he does look up to you, you can see him search your eyes to make sure you aren’t upset or offended or whatever he could possibly be worried about seeing there. But as you smile softly at him, his lips break into a small smile of his own.
“I, uh,” he huffs a nervous laugh, “I-”
“You?” you question as your smile wavers.
“Remember when I asked if we could talk?”
“Yeah,” you answer meekly, growing a little uncomfortable as you still remain in his lap.
“Can we? Talk?”
“Yeah,” you nod, moving to finally get off of him. Bucky doesn’t lighten his grip, though. Instead he holds you in place, squeezing your hip lightly to still you.
“Last week,” he starts, “I was being a dick to you. You didn’t deserve that, and I’m sorry. I heard Jason in the gym talking about asking you out and how you had a date on Friday and I… I was upset. Hurt,” he adds, almost under his breath. “I didn’t mean to take it out on you, but I did, and I’m really sorry. I know I hadn’t made a move or anything, but I thought we were going somewhere, I thought we had something, so when I heard him talking about taking you out…”
“Bucky, I don’t think I’ve ever spoken more than five words to Jason since he started working here,” you’re quick to say. “I didn’t go out with him, he never asked me out, I - I don’t know why he would have ever said that, I,” you pause, catching your breath. “I thought we were going somewhere, too. Even if he had asked me, I never would’ve said yes. This is, this is what you wanted to talk to me about?”
He’s looking at you like you’re the most precious thing in the world as he takes in your words. He nods, “Yeah, I, I was going to apologize and then I was gonna tell you that Jason wasn’t the right guy for you. I was ready to get on my knees and beg you to not go out with him again.”
“Yeah?” you laugh lightly as you wait for him to continue, hanging onto his every word and very literally clinging onto his body at this point.
“Yeah. And then I was gonna tell you that I’m an idiot, and that I regret waiting as long as I did to say something, but that…”
You hear your breathing shake in his own nervous pause. His brilliant blue eyes shine back at you as his lips twitch in a half smile,
“I am so insanely in love with you. And the thought of you on some other guy’s arm drove me crazy. And it’s my own fault for not telling you sooner, for not treating you the way you deserve to be treated, taking you out, showing you off, holding you close,” he makes his point as his arms wrap around you snuggly, “but if you’d let me, I’d treat you right every day from here on out. Because Jason definitely isn’t the guy for you,” - you laugh at the face he makes when he says that, earning a smile from him in return, “but I’d like to be. If you’d have me.”
“Bucky,” you whisper, arms wrapping around his neck as he holds you, “I’ve never been treated better by anyone than I’ve been treated by you. You’re the best man I’ve ever known,” your voice wavers with your emotion. “You may think you waited too long, but honestly,” you tell him, “I’d wait forever for you if I had to.” You’re nose to nose as you let yourself lean into him. “I love you, so much it’s almost embarrassing,” you huff a laugh, closing your eyes as your lips brush his. Bucky doesn’t waste another second before he’s crashing his lips into yours, smiles and murmurs exchanged between the two of you in your embrace.
“So,” he breaks away with another soft kiss, “does that mean you’re available Friday night?”
“For you I’m available any night,” you smirk. Bucky laughs before nodding, “Good. I’ll be picking you up for dinner, then.”
“It’s a date,” you simper, melting into him as he pulls you close once more.
“God, I love being this close to you,” he says against your temple as he keeps you in his lap, your arms around him as you hug him, nuzzling into his chest. You pull back from him, earning a quiet groan he tries to hide as you inadvertently rub against his crotch. You bite your lip to suppress your smile as you do it again, adjusting yourself on his lap a lot more purposefully.
“Ya know,” you whisper lowly, “you could be even closer if you wanted to.” Your voice is laced with a quiet seduction for his ears only, and as soon as the words have passed your lips, you find yourself being held by Bucky’s strong arms as he carries you down the hall with haste. You can’t help your surprised laughter as you hold onto him, looking up at him with adoration you’ve never had for anyone else. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he gets to his door,
“I want to, hell, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to,” he husks as he shoves open his door.
He strides in and drops you on his bed, turning back just to kick his door shut as you watch him with heavy lidded eyes.
He pulls his shirt off and you let yourself lay back on your elbows on his neatly made bed as you refuse to break eye contact.
“Why don’t you give me an idea, Sergeant? And you can show me just how much you’ve been wanting to.”
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