#uncle cap. ( sam )

[chromet]

Warbugsme

[mycenaae]

every week that ted lasso airs i think about that one presser that was like "there's a relationship straight out of fanfiction this season" and i just want to know what their favourite royjamie fic is

[chvoswxtch]

they deserved a 32 episode season

kevin when I catch yOU KEVIN

Omg full version!!!

[hubbvrd]

first night at home | JB9

summary — It's the first night at home with your newborn daughter. When you wake up in the middle of the night and Joe is no longer lying next to you in bed, you find Joe and your newborn daughter in their baby room and what you see there melts your heart

pairing — joe burrow x reader

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Your eyes filled with tears again as you followed Joe carrying the baby carrier with your newborn daughter into your home for the first time.

Two days ago, Amelia Grace Burrow had seen the light of day, making you and Joe the happiest of people and your family complete for the time being.

Amelia was almost a one-to-one copy of your boyfriend, she had even inherited his tangled, almost curly hair, which was clearly visible from birth as she had been born with an incredible amount of hair.

The living-dining room was adorned with colorful decorations. There were countless helium balloons in the shape of a baby bottle, a teddy bear, a princess and Amelia's name.

There was also a garland with 'Welcome home, baby & mommy' written on it. The dining table was heaped with presents and food so that you could only just make out the wooden top of the table.

"Wow," you marveled as you blinked hard at the tears that were already filling your eyes and making their way down your cheeks.

You had thought that your hormones would settle down quickly after the birth, as you had already been quite waterlogged during the pregnancy - but no way. Your hormones had been going crazy almost non-stop since the birth of your little girl, so you had already used up countless tissues and there seemed to be no end in sight.

"Did you do all that?" you looked over at Joe, who carefully placed the baby carrier on the couch and squatted down in front of it.

Amelia had slept all the way from the hospital to your home, which you were quite grateful for - because you had been terrified of the first car journey.

It probably hadn't been the best idea to read the experiences of other mothers on various websites, as most of them had described the first car journey with a newborn as the 'horror ride'.

But Amelia seemed to have been a calm and contented baby not only in the hospital, but also on the car journey and even now, as she continued to slumber soundly in her seat.

"The decoration? Yes. The gifts and food are from a few neighbors, but most of the things are from my teammates - most of them really went overboard with the gifts. I'm sure one or two of them will spoil Amelia as she gets older," he laughed, whereupon you joined in with his laughter.

Because you could imagine all too well how much Joe's team colleagues would spoil your daughter.

Ja'Marr, Tee and Sam in particular had adored the little one ever since they had known you were having a daughter.

The three of them had even been on hand to help set up the baby's room and had already bought countless cute outfits for Mini Burrow (including, of course, a Mini Burrow jersey from each of them so that she could - according to the boys - support her favorite uncle).

As you laughed, you began to feel your abdomen tighten slightly in pain. Even though the birth had not brought any complications, you had a painful pulling sensation in your abdomen from time to time, which was normal according to the doctors at the hospital, so you lay down on the soft cushions of the sofa next to the baby seat.

Joe carefully undid the baby seat belt and then took out your daughter, who was quite tiny, and sat down on the sofa next to you with her in his arms.

Amelia's eyes were closed and there was a pacifier in her mouth that was almost bigger than her face.

A Bengals cap sat on her head - how could it be any different, of course, because according to Joe she had to be taken directly to her favorite team.

"She's so tiny," you gushed quietly as a tear began to roll down your cheek.

You still couldn't believe your happiness about your little family, which you had wished for since you were little - it would certainly take some time before it happened.

"And so beautiful, like her mommy," Joe added, causing a soft sob to leave your lips.

"I love you so much," Joe breathed, as seconds later he carefully put his free arm around you so that your head found its place on his shoulder, where you had an even better view of the sweet little creature lying perfectly in Joe's arm, sucking on her pacifier and leaning.

"We love you too. So much," you whispered softly before your eyes drifted shut from sheer exhaustion and you too fell into a peaceful sleep.

—

You were startled out of your sleep by a scream, so that you sat up straight in bed and looked around in the dark bedroom, which was only lit by a faint ray of light from the street lamp.

You could still remember falling asleep next to Joe on the sofa. But you couldn't remember getting into bed on your own, so Joe must have carried you up and put you to bed.

But before you could turn the covers aside and swing your feet on the bed, Joe was already jumping out of bed.

"I'm going, go back to sleep," he breathed softly to you and pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before pushing you back onto the mattress and putting the covers back over you.

And the moment your head touched the pillow, you were already asleep again.

It was crazy how little you slept with a newborn and how quickly you fell asleep once you'd taken care of the baby or your partner took over.

But you wouldn't trade anything for the chance to sleep through the night again.

—

The next time you woke up and looked to your left, Joe still wasn't back.

A glance at your cell phone, which was lying next to you on the bedside table, told you that it was only 4:55am.

Carefully, your hand touched the empty side of the bed next to you, which was quite cold, so you knew that Joe must have been with your daughter for some time.

Even though you couldn't hear a sound - not even Amelia's crying - you decided to check and relieve Joe, because maybe Amelia needed her mommy now.

The wooden floor creaked softly under your bare feet as you followed the source of light coming from Amelia's nursery.

The closer you got to the baby's room, which was by far the most loving room and your favorite room in the whole house, you heard Joe's soft voice.

So as not to elicit another creak from the floor, you tiptoed the last few meters over to the bright room with the flowery wallpaper, where you leaned slightly against the door frame and took a look inside the room.

On the cozy armchair in the middle of the baby's room, Joe sat with Amelia in his arms and handed her the bottle, from which Amelia drank greedily.

Joe gently rocked the two of them back and forth while his hand held the bottle and his index finger stroked your daughter's tiny hand.

This sight made your heart warm up and your heart skip a little. It really was a beautiful view that almost brought new tears to your eyes - but only almost.

"You're really hungry, huh?" he asked softly as a smile spread across his lips.

"That's good, you'll be a big and strong girl. But do you know what you already are? My sweet girl. My sweet girl, who I will always protect. Come what may. I will also make sure that no boy will ever break your heart and if he hurts you because of Uncle Ja'Marr, I will make sure that he suffers. But also the whole team will always make sure that you don't get hurt. Because they are family. They are your uncles. You'll never be alone..I promise you that,A."

The quarterback leaned in slightly to kiss your daughter's little forehead, causing Amelia to let out a soft sweet sound.

A wide smile crept onto your lips and you couldn't stand there any longer, just watching the two of them.

You crossed a few steps before you reached Joe and Amelia, who had just finished the last of the bottle and now had a wide grin on her lips, which seemed to grow twice as big when she spotted you.

"You've discovered mommy. She probably couldn't sleep anymore because I wasn't there and you've completely taken over me" Joe grinned as he gently tickled your daughter's tummy and then put her over his shoulder for a burp and patted her gently on the back.

"How long have you been awake?" you asked Joe as you carefully adjusted the burp cloth lying on his shoulder.

"I don't know, half an hour?"

"Why didn't you wake me up? I would have done it already. You got up earlier..."

You were slightly plagued by guilt, because before you went home, you had both agreed that you would take turns whenever Amelia cried or was hungry so that you both got enough sleep.

"Hey, babe..." his voice sounded soft as he reached for your hand and stroked the back of it. "You slept so deeply and I wanted you to get some sleep after the exhausting birth two days ago. I'm fine, really. My tiredness has been blown away. I mean look at her, she's mesmerizing me."

Joe's gushing caused him to start yawning softly and it was only now that you saw clearly how deep the circles under his eyes actually looked.

"Come back to bed. Let's cuddle up in our bed as a family. And when you fall asleep, you'll sleep through the night" you promised your boyfriend and together you made your way back to the bedroom, where the three of you snuggled into bed.

Joe lying on his back, with Amelia curled up on his chest, who already seemed to be in a milk coma, with your head in the crook of his neck.

And it wasn't long before the two of you drifted back to sleep overjoyed and you could hardly wait to start the next day together as a family.

[amethystarachnid]

BUCKY BARNES AS A GIRL DAD - a drabble

Everyone stop what you're doing and imagine Bucky Barnes as a girl dad.

When you first tell him that you're pregnant he's shocked because of all the experiments HYDRA did on him he thought he couldn't have kids

Then he's shocked because he realizes he's going to be a dad. He. A killer, the man who killed thousands of people.

He's terrified by the thought of not being a good dad so you have to convince him he's going to be a great dad because he's not the winter soldier anymore, he's just Bucky. The love of your life.

Starts studying pregnancy books like he has an exam on them. believe me when I say that this man could have a degree by the end of the nine months.

Baby Shower. He really didn't care if the baby in your belly was a boy or a girl but when he saw the pink cream inside the cake he felt his heart skip a beat. A little girl, oh how much he hoped for her to look just like you.

Built the nursery from scratch, painted it al pink with little stars on the ceiling.

I think he would like the name Estelle and if you'd agree that would be the little girl's name.

When you go into labour this man freaks out, he has seen lots of things in his life but seeing you in pain while giving birth made him feel guilty for putting a baby in you.

When he holds her for the first time he's scared to hurt her, maybe his metallic arm is too hard for her little head to rest on? Is his metallic hand too cold on her little face?

He's completely smitten by her, she's not even two days old when she has him wrapped around her little chubby fingers.

When he noticed that she has his blue eyes he was on the verge of crying.

How could a monster like him make such a perfect little angel?

As soon as Estelle starts babbling he has his phone out to record everything. He just wants to remember those little moments forever.

When she starts walking and can actually play he spends his days playing with her: with a ball, with dolls, with the toy kitchen, with her on his shoulders.

When Estelle says 'Dada' for the first time this man is in tears repeating 'my baby girl called me dada, I'm her dada..."

Once she can talk she gives nicknames to everyone, Steve is Uncle Cap, Sam is Uncle Birdie, Tony is Uncle Iron, Natasha is Aunt red (because of her hair).

Bucky totally plays princess tea party with her, in a tutu and with a full face of toy make up.

"Uncle Cap and Uncle Birdie, come play tea with me and Daddy!" Estelle would say.

Steve would agree immediately while Sam needed an harsh look from Bucky.

First day of kindergarten? Estelle is happily going inside the new classroom, happy to make new friends while Bucky is in tears.

"She didn't give me a goodbye kiss..."

She wants to take dance lessons? They're paid.

She wants to swim? He's already on his way to buy a swimsuit.

Bucky would let her choose the sport she wants but she has to take self defense lessons too, maybe taught by Natasha.

The first boy that breaks her heart has a broken arm and probably some trauma. (I'm joking...am I?)

Estelle is pretty free to go out but she has to tell him in advance just to let him know.

When she leaves for college he helps her move out and tells her to kick a boy between the legs if they treat her bad. Or simply give a call to him and he would run to her.

Probably with Steve right behind him.

Damn this was long, sorry but I love soft Bucky, my man deceivers happiness after everything he went through :(

Would you like me to do this but with the other Avengers / x-Men? You can also make requests if you want!

Check out my masterlist! <3

[eunoiaastralwings]

Baby Shark

featuring bucky, his little James Jr and Sam

fandom mcu- tfatws era

a/n I really I might. . .just might turn this into a mini series

part 1 - but read alone too

Baby Shark, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo

Baby Shark, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo

Baby Shark, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo

The song was playing on Bucky’s TV screen the past hour now.

James Jr seemingly enjoying the song – and watching it happily, nestled next to Bucky on his lap with his uncle Sam next to him too.

The two men stared at the screen in frustration as it was the only thing the baby currently wanted to watch.

You were out on a small mission – today out all days when the basketball game Bucky and Sam wanted to watch would be on soon enough.

“. . .How many times have we already watched this?”

Sam asked – frustrated and glaring at the screen as the son continued to play.

It was stuck in his head now – probably would be able to mutter it in his sleep.

 Bucky is almost having full blown sensory overload.

He looks dead inside.

The sounds of Baby Shark song are making his brain boil. He feels like his head is going to explode.

Bucky can't handle it. He hates this song so much.

“I’m so sick of this song!”

 Sam groans.

“I hate sharks now!”

He mutters – as the song keep playing.

Bucky is not listening. He is focused on staring at the tv screen with a blank expression.

He is internally begging for this torture to end.

Bucky’s 2-month baby – however – happily chortles giggles as he continues to watch the song.

You had named your son James Steven Barnes together, after Bucky’s first name of James and of course Steve, or Cap’s name for his middle name– but you took the liberty of nicknaming your son Jay – while you were at it too.

Bucky’s head swivels at the sound. He looks back over at the little child.

He watches the child chortle with a faint smile on his face.

Sam looks over at Bucky.

“The game is about to start.”

He says – “Do you think Jay will let us change the channel now?”

“. . .Maybe if we distract him enough. . ."

Bucky mutters.

Bucky stares back at his son – a bit irritated, but also intrigued and a bit amused by his son’s cuteness.

The moment Bucky leans in and takes the remote his 2-month son whines seeing his dad pick up the remote.

For a 2-month baby, he was smart.

“Oh for the. . .”

Bucky sighs in disbelief.

“You've got to be kidding me, James! Of all the days for him to be attached to this damn song!”

Bucky holds the remote in his hand, looking at it in frustration.

Jay son didn’t stop his whines until Bucky let go off the remote.

Bucky feels bad for trying to change the channel on his son and giving him distress.

He doesn’t know what to do.

His son is adorable – but he also doesn’t want to watch Baby Shark again. He looks back over at his son, a mixture of amusement and frustration on his face.

Sam sighs.

“Alright! Watch it for the rest your life kid!”

He says to Bucky’s 2-month baby.

“This kid. . .”

Bucky thinks to himself.

“Why... Just why?”

He asks as his baby son continues to watch the song intently.

Bucky watches with a slightly annoyed but overall amused expression.

Sam rolls his eyes as Bucky started to annoyingly mutter out the song.

“Doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo – Oh for... I just can’t!”

Bucky shakes his head. He can’t help but be impressed by how much of a little smart ass his son is already.

He lets out a soft chuckle, even though he is still annoyed that his son won’t let him change the channel.

“Definitely got it from his mother. . .”

Bucky mutters.

Grandma Shark, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo

Grandma Shark, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo

Grandma Shark, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo

Grandma Shark. . .

[kremlin]

An earnest call for your support: Help me determine if there is a gas leak in my house.

for a long time now, I have been reading and hearing about This Guy on the news, and have been reading all the articles and stories about him:

Above: Sam, tenting his weird-ass fucked up fingers like a real Wall Street Guy might do in a movie he saw

Yep, you already know this guy, his name is Sam, I'll be referring to him as Sam, as that is his first name, and not by his initials, which is what I imagine a pod person might do in an attempt to emulate human behaviour. Whatever. You already know him and what he did, I won't waste your time. Listen. Pay attention. This is not a post about this guy or what he did. That shit is boring as fuck. This is a post about a potential gas leak in my house. We'll get to that in just a bit. Remember.

I've read all the articles and all the op-eds and everything. About Sam. Let us explore the entire spectrum of media coverage of Sam and Sam's Big Ass Problem, starting from the bottom, with the worm-food-tier jackasses: What do people like Jim Cramer and Shark Tank Guy have to say about him?

Above: CNN's "Mad Money" Jim Cramer also doing a weird hand gesture while he tells your alcoholic cable-news-addicted uncle to put his money in some dumbass shit

Above: I think this is the Shark Tank guy? I don't remember his name. Could have sworn his suit had dollar signs and not question marks (?)

I'll summarize their conclusions: "Sam is a boy genius who is super duper smart and can move objects with his massive brain due to knowing about Tech, FinDom FinTech, and computer money, specifically Money Coding. Unfortunately Sam committed massive fraud and will get his ass fucked in federal court".

Moving on from the worm-food-tier to the mediocre-tier: The totally nameless basic bitch journalists at the New York Times or Bloomberg. What do these assholes have to say?

Above: Jim Fuckface, associate financial correspondent for Bloomberg. Jim enjoys winding down on a Friday afternoon by sipping a Bud Lite Lime and wearing his baseball cap backwards, which bears the logo of his local professional sports team.

Above: Kate Fuckface, columnist at the New York Times. Kate enjoys spending her time chatting and interacting with her friends on Social Media Platforms like Facebook and Instagram, as well as purchasing items on Etsy

I'll summarize their conclusions: "Displaying the characteristic awkwardness of incredible technical and financial genius, it was clear to me during our interview that Sam's depth of knowledge truly knew no bounds. Unfortunately Sam committed massive fraud and will get his ass fucked in federal court."

Finally moving on to the people that might actually have a clue about what they're talking about. Sam Levine and Michael Lewis:

Above: Matt Levine, author of a comedy email newsletter named Money Stuff that is 95% financial information by weight and somehow still usually funny as fuck.

Above: Michael Lewis, author of a bunch of really good books you haven't read that were made into pretty decent movies you have seen: Moneyball and The Big Short.

I'll summarize their conclusions: "Sam sure is a smart kid and seems to know a whole lot about economics and this digital currency, and I mean a whole lot, and even more about business, accounting, and finance. Bright kid! Unfortunately Sam committed massive fraud and will get his ass fucked in federal court."

A pretty goddamn clear consensus across the board on both counts.

I listened to the interviews the entire spectrum of people listed above conducted with him -- the ones during which they unanimously concluded how smart he is. I listened to many hours of ad-hoc, unscripted Twitter Space calls he participated in, where he fielded questions about his fraud and his business with complete strangers. I listened to them very carefully. And here is my problem! I came to a different conclusion!

Sam is a fucking moron. I am not talking about solely his intellect, or solely his decision-making abilities, or any specific criteria. I am talking about all of them.

There are two possibilities:

(A) I am correct and, somehow, literally everyone else is incorrect, most of whom know vastly more about these topics than I do

(B) There is a fucking gas leak in my house and I have completely lost all cognitive abilities, suddenly and unwittingly, and exist in a cartoon reality inside my skull that would allow me to reach such a wildly different conclusion from the same evidence.

The likelihood of (A) being correct is very nearly 0%. I mean, come on. I am not fucking around when I tell you how troubling this is for me. I wrote earlier that this isn't a post about Sam or his bullshit. This is a post asking for your help in determining whether I have lost my god damn marbles.

I'll give Sam one thing -- he has some nominal ability to bullshit. If he's writing a Tweet, or making a short statement, he can finesse his words that, on some level, mask how much of a dimwit he is. He absolutely can't do that through about six hours of unscripted interviews. Listen to that shit. Listen.

I am going to go check all the joints in the gas lines in my house as well as the ports on my stove and heater. I'll come back and write a follow-up post on outlining exactly why I think homeboy is an idiot. While I do that, please, go listen to the interviews and tell me what you think.

[mgparker]

recruitment gone… right?

platonic!steven grant/marc spector x teenage!reader

summary: who in their right mind sends a teenager to recruit a dangerous vigilante all on their own? oh sam and fucking bucky.

warnings: teenage avenger reader, inaccuracies, clueless steven being an overall mess and a huge cap fan, violence, swearing, gen z shit? perhaps idk, 2k word count

request: ‘can you do a father figure Marc Spector/Steven Grant x A teenage avenger who was sent to recruit him? I imagine the reader being a typical Gen Z kid with a sarcastic sense of humor, but meaning well.’

notes: loosely based off this request i got MONTHS ago. i’m so sorry it’s taken forever this has literally been in my drafts for a year. not a whole lot of father figure-ing going on but i think it’s a funny little neutral recruitment blurb/one-shot. enjoy. also not sure if this is gen-z enough but i was not going to make this obnoxiously “relatable”

“It shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Sam, I want you to think about what you just said. Then think about who you’re talking to. And then… consider the possibility that your plan might actually work if you send Barnes.”

A distant voice shouted through the speaker of your phone. “No can do, kid. Recruitment is below my paygrade now!”

You rolled your eyes, shuffling down a busy sidewalk in the midst of London. “Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot I’m talking to the big champs now.”

You heard Sam chuckle in amusement, and you could imagine him shaking his head at your words. “You know what you gotta do. The sooner you get it done, the sooner you can get back to base. Kick some ass with the big champs.”

“Yeah, yeah,” it was time to get serious. “Got it, Wilson. I’ll check in later.”

Instead, it was Bucky who answered. “You’ve got this, squirt!” 

Rolling your eyes, you didn’t even give Sam a chance to get a word in before you were ending the call, stuffing your phone into your pocket and narrowing in on the bus stop ahead. 

This is stupid, you thought as you waited a safe distance away. You couldn’t risk your target spotting you before you could properly assess them. Who in their right mind sends a teenager—a freaking teenager—to recruit one of England’s most dangerous vigilantes?

You’re not scared—you were far more than capable to defend yourself, even against the famed Moon Knight—but it feels out of your way, something you’ve never been asked to do. But of course, as an Avenger, this was your duty.

You couldn’t help but think of this whole thing as a personal attack. With Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson assuming the mantle of interim leaders of the Avengers (or rather what remains of them), this whole mission seemed like their version of a practical joke. 

Those two loved you with all their heart, you didn’t doubt it, but they take the role of “fun uncles” a bit too seriously. 

But anyway, this recruitment... This isn’t fun. Not in the slightest.

This is like being a salesperson. 

Shudder. 

Finally, you catch sight of your target—Steven Grant, an extremely sleepy, stumbling gift-shoppist who had appeared at the bus stop surprisingly early for once.

He seems gentle enough, guard mostly down, clutching his bag with a paranoid grip but that was the only thing tense about him. He’s technically older than you, not ridiculously so, but a bit younger than Sam.

You watch as his lips start forming some words; it’s subtle, nothing anyone would really notice unless they were analyzing him piece by piece like you currently were.

Ah. You realized with a pleased smile. Steven Grant and Marc Spector are working together. 

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by the sound of the bus arriving, squeaking loudly as it stopped in the street. 

Showtime. 

There was a click in your brain, or that’s what it felt like at least, and a quick scanning of your surroundings made it easy to instantly blend in. 

Steven Grant was having a decent morning. He actually woke up in time, ate a decent breakfast, and rushed out of the house with ten minutes to spare. 

Even Marc had been pleasant this morning, making unusual small talk as Steven went about his business, getting ready for work. 

And everything was well. Up until now—as he stood in the bus, trying to keep himself from falling asleep on the passengers around him, despite the extra shot of espresso he’d slipped into his drink this morning. 

Steven. 

He jolted awake, pulling his head away from a man’s shoulder with a small ‘sorry!’

But before he could doze off once more, something odd came over him. A strange tingling feeling, as if he was being watched. 

It snapped the drowsiness right out of his system, eyeing everyone suspiciously. 

You feel it too, don’t you? Something isn’t right. 

“What—” He mumbled quietly, searching for the source but coming up emptyhanded.

There was nothing peculiar or odd about his fellow commuters. 

So, he continued about his day, feeling that unsettling eye on him at all times but unaware as to its source. 

It was only when his shift was over, that he was walking home, that he decided this charade had gone on for far too long. 

Despite Marc’s pleas to let him front, Steven stopped in his dead tracks, away from any curious eyes. 

“Oi, who’s there?”

Great job, Steven. If that isn’t the most cliché thing to say before the main character gets killed in a horror movie. Marc sighed. 

“Shut up,” hissed Steven quietly. “You know I don’t watch horror movies—”

Steven blinked and suddenly you’re there, standing in front of him as if you’d been there the entire time. 

“AH!” 

The scream echoed down the alley, high-pitched and nearly startling you into a similar yelp. 

But you were quite used to your presence spooking others, it’s a part of your abilities that you’d never been able to control. 

Chest heaving and cheeks tinted with embarrassment, Steven gave you a suspicious glare. 

“Oh, it’s—it’s just a kid,” he tried to brush off his embarrassing reaction. 

You scoffed, a bruise to your ego. “Not just a kid.”

“Well, I know what I’m seeing,” Steven argued. “And you look like a child—“

“Firstly,” you’re staring at Mr. Knight’s suit, taken aback by the change in his appearance that you’d apparently triggered by startling him so bad. “I’m seventeen. Second, I thought you had a whole—“

You aimlessly motioned around your head in a sort of halo way, confusing the ever fuck out of Steven who just stood there blankly.

“A whole w-what?” He gaped, desperate to know what you— a complete stranger — had to say about his kickass suit.

“You know, a whole cape thing goin’ on.”

Ha! Colonel Sanders.

Steven wished there was a way to punch Marc.

“Now, you’re just talking about my lesser counterpart,” Steven shrugged, trying to hide the fact that he had just been offended to the core.

“Ouch, hard feelings?”

Steven pulled his lips to the side. “You could say that— wait. How do you know about—?”

“Let’s cut to the chase,” you interrupted. “I was sent here on behalf of an organization that is really interested in having you join our ranks. Normally, they’d send someone else but you’re stuck with me so—“

“What organization? What ranks? You’re hiring?” I guess we’re both interrupting each other now. You fought the urge to roll your eyes. Even if the task was annoying, you wouldn’t be returning to base with a new recruit if you hit him with a bunch of attitude.

Patience was not your strongest virtue. “Not exactly. As soon as you put that blade down, maybe we can talk some more.”

Steven looked down with a jolt, as if he hadn’t realized he’d been white-knuckling the weapon since you appeared.

Slowly, he started to store the blade before Marc cut in hastily. Hello? Are you seriously letting a kid tell you what to do? A kid who appeared out of thin air?

Steven caught Marc’s glare in the reflection of a small puddle, the road damp from London’s regular showers. He looked much more menacing than Steven, even with his half-assed suit. 

He hadn’t said it yet, but Steven knew Marc was aching to take over. And it was probably the smartest option- Steven wasn’t the best at confrontation. 

“Don’t hurt a minor please,” he pleaded quietly. Marc narrowed his eyes at the notion. But he nodded his head dismissively.

With a sigh, Steven allowed Marc to front.

All the while, you minded your own business as well as you could, staring at the sky suspiciously. You wouldn’t be surprised if Sam had sent Redwing to spy on you. Not because he didn’t trust you of course, but because him and Bucky loved to get a laugh in whenever they could. 

“Alright, let’s cut the bullshit. Who sent you? Harrow?” 

You nearly gave yourself whiplash from how fast your head snapped forward. 

The suit was different, cape billowing behind him, and eyes even whiter than before. They seemed to glow-- no, they were glowing-- and glare into the depths of your soul. You were almost intimidated.

“Who the hell is Harrow? Absolutely not. Since you asked so nicely, I was sent on behalf of Captain America.”

Captain America? He gripped the crescent blade tighter. 

He considered your words carefully, staring at you with the utmost suspicion. Lip curling up, head already starting to shake in disapproval, annoyance consuming him altogether— 

“That’s bullshit.”

“That’s- that’s amazing!”

You couldn’t help the smirk on your face. “It is pretty cool,” you shrugged thirty minutes later, chewing through a particularly large bite of your warm bagel. You were sat in the corner of a small, dingy bakery. What it lacked in aesthetics, the bakery definitely made up for in flavor.

“Do you think you could maybe, like I dunno, introduce us?” Steven asked with an excitement that barely kept him still in his seat.

You’re surprised he hasn’t gathered the attention of everyone else in the bakery, but for once, you’re not the one worried about being on the opposite end of a judgmental eye.

Being an Avenger in these post-Blip days isn’t as easy as it was before… stack that on top of being a ‘child’ and it’s the perfect recipe for disaster.

‘They’re too young!’

‘They can barely contain their abilities!’

‘The Avengers already ruined our lives before! Why should we trust a child?!’

Even if you denied it a million times, there was always a small part of you that craved their approval. Their vote of trust…Maybe this mission would help with that, once they learned that it was you who got the infamous bad-guy-turned-good Moon Knight to join the world’s mightiest superheroes…

Well, maybe it wasn’t exactly you who got Steven to willingly agree. But there was absolutely no way in hell you were ever telling Sam that it was his pull that got the deal sealed.

“Sure,” you smiled back at Steven who just about died at your response. The coffee in his mug jostled out and splashed onto the table. “Big Captain America fan?”

“As of late,” Steven grinned. “So, when do we leave? Is—” He gasped suddenly and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Is Captain America coming to pick me up?”

Jesus Christ. Marc groaned. This was a fucking mistake. 

Steven ignored him and looked at you expectantly.

You glanced up from your phone where you’d been rapidly typing something up. You did a double-take as you processed his question.

“Absolutely,” you deadpanned. “He’ll send a car for you. Probably meet you at the airport with his private jet.”

Steven’s eyes grew wider with every word. Marc was scowling in the reflection of the window behind you.

“Bollocks...” he breathed, staring down at his lap in disbelief. 

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“I don’t even know what to say. I mean, who—who would’ve thought they would send a seventeen-year-old to recruit little ole me—”

You saw something click in his brain. He looked up with glazed over irritation. “...you’re... you’re not being serious.”

“Of course, I’m not being serious, Grant. I got here alone and I’m more than capable of getting us back to base. You can save the fangirling for when we finally touch down alright? He’ll meet us there.”

Steven pursed his lips at you. 

Rolling your eyes, you finished your text and locked your phone with a click. “I’m being serious this time.”

Excitement poured into his gaze again. You’re not sure how Marc feels about it, only that after explaining yourself in very, very specific detail, he was open to the discussion. But it must be a mutual decision at this point. You doubt Steven would’ve gotten this far if his counterpart was fighting against it.

“Marc is on board?”

“Absolutely.”

Don’t lie. I’m regretting this more and more each second.

Steven continued. “Should I... should I pack my bags?”

“Yeah, that’d be a good idea,” you agreed nonchalantly.

“... now?”

You tapped your phone and glanced at the time. “If you want to make our flight in less than an hour, I’d say so.”

“Bollocks!” Steven exclaimed, nearly knocking the table over on his mad dash out the door. 

You snickered as he slammed into a lady on his way out. 

—————> the big champs + bucky

you: i’m expecting a promotion when i get back. and for you two to get off my ass already 

redwing’s bitch: I told you it wasn’t going to be too hard. Proud of you, kid

you: 😐

you: thanks i guess... expect a meet and greet when we get there. he’s probably going to be up your ass. steven’s your biggest fan. marc not so much.

you: and don’t worry bucky, they didn’t mention you at all <3

bucky bitchy barnes: fuck off. I have a fanbase. It’s on tweet.

you: wtf is tweet

bucky bitchy barnes: Don’t fuck with me you know what tweet is. 

you: my brother in christ... you mean to say twitter :,)

bucky bitchy barnes: I hate, no DETEST, your generation. 

ha ha

— elle <3

[abarbaricyalp]

Strawberries and Cigarettes (always taste like you)

Title from Troye Sivan

Bucky smoked like a chimney. It didn't matter how many times Sam said they'd figured out it was bad for you. Mostly because Bucky had a super soldier serum that made him think he was invincible. Sam had sat next to him on a Brooklyn balcony one night that they both couldn't sleep and watched Bucky go through an entire carton without coming up for air. He always had a cigarette behind his ear, waiting to be lit. A lighter in his pocket, even during missions. It wasn't like it was to help with anxiety or whatever. The dude was jumpy and jittery even while he was smoking. And Sam had never really seen him jonesing for a smoke break, but he took one every chance he got.

He'd asked Bucky to stop smoking around him because Sam didn't have a super soldier serum to save his lungs, which Bucky was slightly gracious about. Gracious up until the point that Sam slunk over because the smell of the smoke and Bucky's shampoo and his leather jacket was addictive, and then he was all smirks and silent 'I-told-you-so's. It at least put him in the habit of asking before he lit up. It really didn't help that he looked like a modern Marlborough man ad come to life. He was desperately alluring and sexy when he smoked. It was woefully unfair that such a foul hobby was so damn hot.

(Oddly enough, the grace came back on the rare nights that Sam sat beside him and wordlessly held out his hand for a cigarette too.)

Sam didn't condone the habit, but he didn't exactly hide Bucky's cartons from him or give him an ultimatum either. Hell, Bucky's smokes were usually on his grocery list when he knew the guy was going to be around.

"Hey, have you noticed if Buck's low on cigarettes?" Sam asked Sarah while she compiled her own list to send him with.

She turned to look at him with raised eyebrows. "Bucky doesn't smoke," she said. "I've never seen him even hold a cigarette."

Sam frowned and thought before making an answer. After four decades, he'd found it was best not to argue with Sarah about something that may have an objective truth to it. He rarely beat her at this game.

True, he had woken up a few weeks ago, last time Bucky had been around, with the glaring thought that Bucky smelled good next to him. Not like smoke, but a clean, fresh smell. He'd chalked it up to him showering the evening before and not getting up throughout the night. And true that Bucky had a fidget in Louisiana that Sam never noticed anywhere else, where he flipped the cap of his lighter continuously or tumbled the lighter through his fingers. But he never actually lit anything with it. And true, he didn't smoke on the boat. And true, he'd never asked Sam where the cheapest cigs around were (a constant hunt in New York).

Bucky didn't smoke down here, Sam realized with a start. And he never smelled like smoke because he had a whole new wardrobe in Sam's house. Sarah had never seen him smoke.

Sam made for the backdoor, grocery list discarded. Sarah called after him, but he didn't quite catch it--something about the zucchini she needed him to remember and also lollipops--and he went out back.

Judging from the way Bucky had an arm around Cass's center, and AJ was rolling on the ground with laughter, and the swing set was still rocking up and down as Bucky held Cass still, Sam had a feeling he'd interrupted an attempt at swinging the swing all the way around the top of the set. Bucky looked much guiltier than either child, but it was Cass who insisted, "We weren't doing anything!"

Sam leveled a stare at him, but he knew these boys were forged under Sarah's gaze and nothing Sam had in his arsenal was going to be half as effective.

"Why don't you two head inside?" Bucky suggested, still looking guilty. "Your Uncle Sam and I were just about to head into town."

The boys grumbled their objections, but it only took them a few steps before they were jostling each other and starting a game of tag that would absolutely get them in trouble inside. Once the door was shut, Sam looked to Bucky again.

"No one was going to get hurt," he insisted sheepishly, wrapping the chain of the swing around one arm to lean his weight against it.

"Can I have a cigarette?" Sam asked without preamble.

Bucky's got-caught frown turned into a confused one. On muscle memory, but with no conviction, he patted his front pocket with his other hand. "I don't have any on me," he admitted with a shrug.

"Why not?" Sam asked.

Bucky flushed prettily, looking away from Sam in embarrassment. "I didn't wanna do it in front of your nephews. Didn't wanna be a bad example. And, when we were staying here, I didn't want to make Sarah's home smell terrible. You know how that smell is. Lingers."

It was more forethought than anyone had put into anything for Sam in a long, long time. Sam hadn't even thought about Bucky smoking around the boys. Bucky didn't usually smoke in front of other people, unless someone was passing by the alley he had stepped into, so Sam hadn't been worried about it. Bucky had never even seen the boys before he'd shown up on his own down here, new clothes, no cigarettes.

"You chew on lollipops instead," he realized as the fondness in his chest bloomed even further out. "I thought you just did that to give the kids an excuse to have some too."

Bucky scuffed his sneaker in the dirt under the swing. "Keeps me distracted enough."

"Buck, you spend so much time down here. More time than you don't. You must hardly smoke anymore."

Bucky's shoulders came up to his ears. It didn't hide the blush on them. "It's worth it. Guess I might've been looking for a good reason to stop."

Sam thought about all the movie moments he'd caught Bucky smoking--the moonlit balcony, a sunset after a fight, digging through files half naked in bed. All those moments he'd had an overwhelming teenage desire to pull Bucky to him and kiss the smoke out of his mouth. But they were all easily overshadowed by images of Bucky acting as a jungle gym for kids, or reading to Cass and AJ before bed, or helping with science experiments and baking days, or swinging Cass all the way around the swing set, ready to catch him if he fell.

Sam crossed the distance between them, pulling Bucky's face to him between the swing chains to kiss him deeply. He tasted like strawberry lollipops. "I like this look better," he decided.

He felt Bucky smile against his lips. "Well maybe you can help keep my mouth busy," he suggested before kissing Sam again.

Yeah, this was definitely better.

Don't smoke, kids.

Bucky absolutely has an old engraved lighter from the war

[irishmammonagenda]

Ritualistic-Obey Me x Reader

[picture creds] [dividers by @/riottsrph] Summary: You and your friends get a little too wrapped up in the spooky festivities of Halloween. Satan can't help but watch. ;) Word Count: 3.2k Content Warnings: MC is human and this is a different au. probably fem!MC idk i cant write men women are my default. also MC is stupid, like really fucking stupid icl. blood, rituals, implied animal sacrifice, implied gore and violence.

"This was a stupid idea." You think to yourself as you trudge through the dense forest behind your two best friends, avoiding branches and pausing every time you get caught on one.

Noticing your tension, Derek hums, carrying a rucksack on his back and offering you a sip of cider from the can he was holding. No doubt given to him by his Uncle Sam. "Want some? You seem thirsty."

Parched you accept, "Thanks, Derek."

He nods as his cousin Eric turns around from in front of you both, he grins at you, still carefully carrying that cardboard box that they refuse to tell you the contents of. "It's not much further, [Name], don't worry."

Most young adults would be watching horror movies with their friends, or going to a costume party on Halloween Night. But not you three.

You; [Name] [Last Name], Derek Wisconsin, and Eric Vancouver, had something more disturbing planned.

You were going to summon Satan.

Having freshly turned 19, and with Derek preparing to move back to Illinois and, Eric returning to Canada for college; this was your last hurra before being separated.

You shiver, half from the nerves and half from the cold. You should've worn something other than sweatpants and a tank top.

"C'mon [Name], don't be a scaredy cat. We're almost there." Derek teases, shoving you lightly, before throwing his empty can of cider on the forest floor. You glare at him. Sure, you were more naïve than most, but he didn't need to be rude about it!

Eric looks back once more, and shares a look with his cousin before the three of you continue to walk. Getting ever closer to the clearing the blond Canadian had been raving about.

Getting closer to the place you'd chosen for the ritual.

You gulp as you reach the clearing, taking a moment to collect yourself and avoid looking into the treelines, especially as the sky rapidly darkens. You don't want to see something you shouldn't, after all.

Derek grabs the box from his cousin's hands and sets it down gently on the ground beside the rucksack he’d thrown uncaringly in the leaves before adjusting his baseball cap. The redhead breathes in deeply, watching as his friend grabs a handful of straws of various lengths.

Eric scrunches his nose and nudges towards you. "We gotta see who's doin' it. Pick one." The half-canadian nudges to his closed fist, you nervously do so, pulling out a short, stubby straw.

Eric picks out a short straw, still longer than yours. Derek picks out the longest one, and subsequently starts grinning like a maniac. "Fuck yeah!" He whistles. "Oh Jeez....guess you're doing it, [Name]."

"Guess I am..." You pout, before blinking dumbly for a minute. "Wait, what am I doing'?"

Derek and Eric grin to each other with identical smiles before turning to face you. "The main part of the ritual." They say, before the Canadian gestures to the box.

The ginger grins wider, taking off his chicago cubs baseball cap and setting it down, revealling orange toned hair underneath. "But not yet! We gotta set up the summoning circle first!"

You bite your lip. "Are you guys sure this is a good idea?” You ask, eyeing Eric as he starts to copy out a summoning circle from the frayed, ancient looking spellbook.

Derek nods ambitiously. “Hell yeah. What could go wrong? Worst case scenario nothin’ happens and it’s all a hoax. Best case scenario, we summon Satan, make pacts with him and get rich!”

Eric sticks his tongue out in concentration. “Mhm… and don’t worry about havin’ to sell your soul. That’s where the box comes in handy.”

You shiver. Wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt to keep warm as you and Derek watch as the blond finishes the summoning circle and places black candles down at integral points of the inner star.

The Canadian claps the chalk off of his hands, as Derek takes out the deck chair from the large rucksack and unfolds it, setting it in the middle of the circle. you and begin lighting the candles,he grabs an expensive looking ceremonial dagger from his backpack. When he notices you staring he smirks. “Got it from Ebay for 20 dollars. Now lets get started!”

Derek grins before the three of you stand over the book he’d just placed in the very middle of the summoning circle, placed on the foldable garden chair serving as an altar.

Your trio chant in Latin, reading out the words on the page of the book. The light breeze stops dead.

“Ready, [Name]?” Eric smiles, holding the dagger up as you nod offering your hand.

“Make it quick.” You look away. Face scrunched up in pain as the boy draws blood, you hiss in agony as he moves onto Derek and then himself.

The three of you let your blood drip onto the ground in the middle of the summoning circle as you invoke the Avatar of Wrath once more.

All the while being unaware of the emerald green eyes watching you from the shadows of the treeline.

After a few repetitions, Derek turns to you, gestering to the dagger. “You picked the shortest straw. You’re up, MC.”

“What do I do with it?” You tilt your head as you shakily grab the dagger. Growing more and more uncomfortable with the uncanny smiles your friends are sporting.

They hand you the cardboard box. “Open it.” Eric whispers.

You do.

Inside you find a small black kitten barely the size of your hand sleeping peacefully. A small pink ribbon as her makeshift collar. Unable to stop yourself, you reach out to shakily pet her. Derek grabs her. She meows as she’s woken up. The redhead hands you the kitten in your free arm.

“Pet store said her name was Inky.” Eric hums as she cuddles into your tanktop, looking for warmth.

You don’t miss the sinister glint in their eyes, yet you do miss the figure in the darkness growing larger, more demonic as he senses what’s about to happen to the kitten before you do.

You feel a sinking feeling in your gut even before Derek orders you in a dark tone. “Say the words in the book. Slit its throat.”

You gulp shakily, as you begin to chant, the wound on your hand aching and beginning to glow green and you swear you can hear a demonic growling sound from the treeline.

You finish chanting, tears welling up in your eyes as you slowly lift the dagger up, preparing to do the unthinkable.

The sky darkens, thunder sounds, a sinister fog begins to form around the ritual circle, reflecting in the pure evil of Derek and Eric’s shared expression.

Satan, who had been watching in the shadows as soon as the ritual began, growls in pure rage. A mere second away from stepping into the circle and gutting the three of you.

You blink away your tears, about the drag the dagger down into the kittens throat, before you meet her tiny amber eyes and she lets out the most pitiful meow. No doubt wanting food.

You break. Throwing the weapon on the ground and breaking off in a sprint. Rushing into the dense woods still cradling the poor kitten as your former friends make chase close behind you.

You wince as branches catch on your skin and leaving you with scratch marks all over. You don’t stop running though, especially after you hear the dagger being thrown at a tree right next to you.

Satan pauses. Shocked out of his growling as he stalks you from the shadows. A small, crooked smile spreads on his face as he watches you make your escape, defenseless kitten in hand.

You manage to get out of view and reach of Derek and Eric as you duck behind a log to catch your breath. Hearing the Canadian shout to his cousin from Illinois to ‘just leave it’ and ‘continue the ritual without the stupid cat’

Derek shouts exploitatives before agreeing and yelling into the woods. “You fucking bitch!- When I find you, [Name]-You’re fucking dead!-”

You hold your breath as their voices grow quieter and quieter. Petting Inky to steel your nerves you peek out and see no one.

Deciding to make your escape you slowly get out, walking dumbly like a baby deer as you slowly trudge further away from where you came.

Satan had been doing nothing in particular before having felt his name being provoked. He sighed, never getting a lot of downtime during Halloween thanks to idiots in the Human Realm summoning him day in and day out.

Allowing himself to be teleported to the area of the ritual. He stalked in the shadows of the treeline, noticing three young adults in the middle of the clearing chanting.

He watched. Prowling around the shadows, rage radiating from him as he hears the meowing of a cat and sees the third of the trio raise a dagger. Yet still, he watches.

His eyes grow green. Already in his demon form, his claws protract. Ready to maul those motherfuckers.

Only to stop when you throw the dagger and make a run for it. Rage simmering down to slight surprise, claws retracting.

You were a smart one, your friends, however, were not. He'd have to find you later, but for now; he stayed in the shadows, waiting, watching as the two boys continue the ritual without the cat they had planned to slaughter.

The ginger, Derek, begins once more, chanting in Latin as he reads from the book, Eric joins in, before a lightbulb goes off into his head.

The Canadian opens his phone and selects a photo of you, placing it on the ground in the centre of the ritual circle.

"A-ave Satanas! This is our sacrifice to you, [Name] [Last Name]!" Eric shouts into the forest, no doubt wanting you to hear in an attempt to punish you for ruining the ritual.

Satan raises an eyebrow. So that was your name? Interesting.

Still in demon form; he steps out of the shadows, revealling himself to the two boys.

He smirks at their shocked gasps, watching in amusement as they scramble to the book, trying to figure out what to do next.

"Where's the cat?" Is all Satan asks.

"T-that bitch-" Derek points to the photo of you on the ground. "She fuckin' ran off with it. Sorry Lord S-Satan....we were tryna sacrifice it for you.-"

Eric nods desperately in agreement.

Satan smirks, "Well then...I suppose I should reward my loyal followers." He says charmingly as his eyes glow a feral green and his claws protract once more.

He'd hang them by their entrails.

No one fucks with cats. Especially not on his watch.

You whimper in the dark woods, shakily bringing your phone out with one hand to use as a flashlight. It was colder now. Inky clung to you for warmth as you did the same to her and held the kitten tighter with one arm.

Having ran blindly from the clearing in random directions, it was safe to say you were lost.

"It's okay buddy…." You whisper to the kitten, whimpering when you hear the tortured screaming of your two friends.

The ritual must've worked.

Like a prey animal, you hunker down behind some bushes just in case. Turning off your phone light, you cradled Inky in your arms and clench your eyes shut in fear, trying not to listen to the screeching and pleading of your former friends.

Tears roll down your cheeks, although you couldn't tell if it was from grieving, anger or fear. Most likely the latter two.

You wait and wait, staying completely still in the dirt, uncaring of the staining in your clothes that would result of it. Leaves rustled softly with your breathing, as you tried to focus on the rise and fall of your chest instead of the nightmarish sounds from God knows how far away.

It keeps going, until it stops, leaving behind it a thick, deathly silence. You hold back a whimper, still much too scared to move, frozen in fear.

Your hair stands on end as a crunching of autumn leaves sounds. Footsteps approach you calmly.

You hold you breath, begging and praying to whatever ancient power out there that whatever that thing was that'd killed your friends wouldn't murder you too. That it would somehow miss your hiding spot.

It was truly a shame for you that the only ancient power in your vicinity was Satan himself.

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear. :)

To which he did. The footsteps get closer, before stopping at the bush you were hiding behind. You bite your lip to keep yourself from whimpering.

You hear a chuckle sound from the darkness, as you will yourself to open your eyes you see a man, as if by magic, he's in front of you.

You hadn't heard him move from the time it took him to approach you from behind.

Strange.

"You don't need to be scared." The handsome man smiles charmingly. He's not much older than you by the looks of it. "[Name], right?"

You nod dumbly, holding Inky as your emotional support. How did this man know your name? Was he stalking you?

He nods to the kitten in your arms, "Cute cat. Mind if I pet her?"

"Sure….Y-yeah that's fine…." You stiffen as his hand reaches towards you, but relax slightly as the man seems gentle with cats. Everyone knows men who are good with cats can be trusted, right? Inky seems to like him.

"Hmm…..you okay?" The blond man asks kindly. His emerald eyes glow an otherworldly green.

"….I'm lost…." You admit, rather tired from the whole idea.

"I see. Well I could always help you get out. I know these woods quite well…."

"Really? You don't sound like you're from here….." You say softly, finding your voice. Maybe you were too naïve and trusting, but nevertheless, you grab his outstretched hand and laugh a little as he shakes it.

You grin, having calmed your nerves slightly. Unknowing that you've just made a deal with the devil.

He helps you up and you begin to walk through the trees, still holding onto Inky. The man coos at her every now and again and the cat preens under his soft gaze.

You walk in a relatively comfortable silence, with the blond asking you questions here and there, and you answering and asking them back.

Realistically you should still be shaking and crying and traumatised. You'd just heard your two former best friends be murdered. Yet, some dark twisted part inside of you whispers that they were doomed the moment they drew that circle and took out that cat.

It scared you that you couldn't bring yourself to care.

"So what about you…? Do you have any siblings?" You ask quietly, as you both use your phones as flashlights through the woods. You don't feel as much like a headless chicken anymore.

"Yep." He smiles. "Six brothers. I'm the fourth oldest."

"Holy shit."

"Nothing holy about it, in my opinion." He laughs, it's contagious. You can't help but let out a chuckle.

"You're quite interesting, [Name]. Smart too. " The familiar stranger hums. "I like that."

You grin, laughing as humility coats your voice. " Oh really....I don't think I'm that smart....."

The handsome man's eye's glow with something for a second as his eyes fix on the kitten safe in your arms. "You should give yourself more credit, [Name], you've made better decisions than you would even believe tonight."

"....Thanks?" You tilt your head slightly. The Devil himself just hums softly in response as the two of you fall back into the rhythm of a comfortable silence, with you leading the way to your home as you got to the main road once more. It doesn't take long before the three of you reach it.

As you reach your home, the blond sees you and your newly acquired kitten to your door. You give him a small smile. "Well this is me...."

He nods, before grabbing your free hand, and speaking a phrase in Latin you almost recognise as he meets your gaze with a glowing green one of his own. He kisses your hand and grins as ink like emeralds form on your skin like a tattoo, swirling and dancing until they find purchase around your wrist in a symbol not unlike the ones in the summoning circle.

Your breath hitches. "Y-you're..."

The demon grins. "I'm Satan, yes." He replies, admiring the pact mark now on your hand. "And you might be one of my favourite devotees."

"....You're not gonna kill me...?" You ask in a small voice, clutching Inky as you open the door you had stupidly forgotten to lock before you went out.

The Avatar of Wrath only laughs in response, a soft look overriding his facial expression. "If I wanted to kill you I would've done so in the woods. Besides. You weren't stupid....like the other imbeciles who try to summon me." He reaches over to pet Inky once more, something he's done a lot within the short space of time you've gotten to know him.

"Huh?" You voice out your confusion, and he grins up at you. For the supposed Avatar of Wrath, he sure is charming. It was easy to trust him.

"Well...most people- actually every group or person who tries to summon me around Halloween time...sometimes even witches but especially inexperienced humans like you and your....friends...always make the fatal mistake of sacrificing cats during the ritual...." His eyes narrow as he thinks about it. A murderous expression creeps onto his face and a deathly aura surrounds him as you realise why he's named the Avatar of Wrath.

Satan takes a deep breath and continues. "But you didn't....I can appreciate and trust someone like you."

You nod, wondering what parenting mistakes your parents made that could've made you attracted to a literal Lord of Hell as you feel your cheeks heat up. "Do you wanna come inside for a bit?"

The corners of his lips twitch, "I'd love to...but Halloween is a busy time for me....summonings and all.....could I come back tomorrow?"

You nod. "Bring some treats for Inky?" You ask light-heartedly.

"Oh of course." He smiles, waving goodbye as you trek inside your home, placing the kitten down gently on the entrance mat of your hall.

"Well....bye for now, Satan..." You nod, at the now not so enigmatic stranger, he gives you another kiss on the back of your hand.

"Goodnight, [Name]." He says before slowly closing the door for you.

He'd come visit you again, after all, he had accepted your ritual and given you his pact mark. As the blond demon thinks to himself whilst traversing to yet another ritual preformed by stupid young adults abusing cats who were about to get mauled, he comes to the realisation that Lucifer said no to cats in the house. but he never said anything about a human and that said human's cat. ;)

🎃🦇samhain shona daoibh 🎃🦇

if you cant tell ive watched a lot of horror movies recently and made the ritual very not very realistic-ified for the sake of dramatic devices gng. (unrelated but im too scared to watch the exorcist)😔✊

real ones realised i reused derek wisconsin and eric vancouver from my summertime shennanigans fic. i am aware the names are horrible that's why i chose them.

can we all appreciate the fact i churned this out in like two days pretty please (oh the joys of getting 8 hours of sleep every night and being off school and not completely exhausted.)

no irish in this post bc halloween is irish enough anyways yipeeee!

anyways 😈

i made a poll yesterday asking if i should give you stinkers (said lovingly) a name like im some 2019 youtuber with a bunch of fans because i yearn for the silliness and nearly everyone said yes so yipeeee! also i need ideas or else you're being called péisteanna or something equally as stupid 😈

[e-dubbc11]

🎃 Happy Birthday Month 500 Follower Celebration! 👻

For The Carrying On Series…

“recording and fondly laughing at the other as they trigger all the Halloween displays in the stores”

(I imagine the video being for reader & Sam 😂)

Thank you so much my darling friend! Thank you for all of your asks, thank you for your friendship and kind words. It all means so much to me ♥️

I loved this ask and I had a lot of fun writing it. I hope you enjoy it! 😘

That Was Scary!

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F! Reader, supporting character Sam Winchester

Warnings: couple of swear words, PG-13 smexy time, smooches, alludes to sex, fluff and fun

Word Count: 2.1K-ish (I really am trying to keep these shorter but I can’t)

Summary: Part of the Carrying On Series. I’ll leave it linked HERE. It’s that spooky time of year again and Charlie is excited to go look for his costume and check out everything at the Halloween store. Uncle Sam is in town again and you’re devising a plan to try and scare Dean.

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

The vibrant reds and yellows of the fall foliage contrast against the deep green pine forests and the snow capped mountain landscapes.

The autumn scenery around your new Colorado home was a beautiful sight to behold. The early evening sunsets painted the entire sky with shades of purple, pink, and orange. They were absolutely breathtaking.

Dean and Charlie were used to it. It was all Charlie had ever known and Dean had lived there for a long time now but you weren’t sure you would ever get used to this view. Being able to walk out onto your back deck, look straight out and see the tops of the Rocky Mountains covered in snow, the sun warming the sky, and the fluffy clouds above them was a luxury you never wanted to take for granted. Not everyone had the privilege of seeing something like this.

You could feel him sneaking up behind you. His eyes raked over you as you observed the clouds move over the mountains and he gazed at you fondly as you let the last bit of sun warm your face before it disappeared behind the mountains until tomorrow.

Your lips curled into a wide smile as you stated, “It’s beautiful isn’t it, Dean.”

“Yes it is, sweetheart.” He replied.

You looked over your shoulder at him and biting down on your lower lip, you shyly said, “Baby, you’re not even looking at the view.”

“Oh my view is very beautiful.” Said Dean.

Keeping his eyes locked on you, he slowly climbed the deck stairs, walked over to you and pulled you in close by the waist so your back was flush with his chest. As you closed your eyes, you felt his full lips kiss your temple and his strong arms squeeze your body like he never wanted to let you go.

The crisp mountain air cooled your cheeks as the two of you enjoyed the silence and his body heat kept you from getting too cold.

“I hate to ruin such a perfect moment, buuuuut…” Dean started to say.

As you turned around to face him, you snaked your arms around his neck so you were looking up into his green eyes that matched the patches of grass that were still clinging to life.

“Charlie wants to go now, doesn’t he.” You said.

Dean closed the gap between your bodies and right before he kissed you, he replied, “Well, he can wait one more minute because I haven’t kissed you properly yet today. He’s been buggin’ me about goin’ all day.”

“Spooky season,” as Charlie called it, had arrived and he had been bothering Dean for the past week about going to check out everything at the Halloween store and picking out his costume.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks, sweetheart.” Said Dean with a slight growl in his voice.

Between work, Sam visiting, and Charlie back in school, getting alone time with each other has been tough the past few weeks. By the time you both were finished with work, dinner, and helping Charlie with his homework, most nights you were too tired to do anything. You would end up falling asleep watching a movie or falling asleep in bed before Dean could come over.

“What are you talkin’ about, baby? I see you every day. Stop exaggerating.” You said, gently brushing his beard with your thumb.

“You know what I mean, y/n.” He said in a frustrated tone.

You did know what he meant but you were just trying to make him feel better. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, life had become just a little bit busier, and both of you were trying to adjust to your new schedules.

“I know, handsome. I know what you meant, I was just trying to lighten the mood a little. We’re still trying to get used to everything, that’s all. We’ll figure it out, ok? Ok?” You said.

His eyes were focused on the ground and he was pouting slightly. He looked so adorable doing it though, nodding his head.

Dean cupped your cheeks as his lips collided with yours. Caging you in against the deck railing, he firmly pressed his body against yours, parted your lips with his tongue and wanted desperately for it to twist and knot with yours.

A smirk played across his lips as a strangled moan escaped your mouth, his hardening length pressed against your core, and he was leaving little love bites down the side of your neck.

Just as he reached for the top button of your jeans, you heard Charlie call out to him from his front yard.

“DAD!!! Can we go now?!!!” Shouted Charlie.

Dean grumbled under his breath, “Son of a bitch…” Then yelled back, “IN A MINUTE, CHARLIE!!”

And then you heard Sam’s voice.

“YEAH! COME ON DAD! LET’S GO!” Sam shouted, sarcastically.

You bit down on your thumb to try and keep from laughing but it was hard not to. Pulling him by the shirt, you said with a chuckle, “Come on, Dad. The kids wanna go play.”

“I’ll kill them both, I swear.” Growled Dean.

You kissed him on the cheek and said with a sly smile, “Maybe we can play with each other later, stud. Let’s go!”

**********

Charlie practically jumped out of the Impala while it was still moving so he could go inside and look around before anyone else could. When Dean and Sam were young, they never really experienced any holidays and when Dean became a father, he wanted to give Charlie as normal a childhood as he possibly could so he and his wife started doing all of it…Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas…it gave him a reason to do all of the things he missed out on when he was a child.

“Look at this one, Dad!!!” Exclaimed Charlie.

He pointed to a trio of skeletons playing instruments. The description said that you could set up music through Bluetooth and it will look like the skeletons are singing and playing along to the music playing.

“That’s a lot of money, Charlie but it is pretty awesome.” Said Dean.

Dean didn’t know but you and Sam had a text conversation on the way, discussing how the two of you were going to try and scare Dean with some of the motion sensor Halloween displays.

You had a feeling Sam and Dean had plans of their own to try and scare you and Charlie too. Basically, there were a lot of clandestine plans being made around you and it kept you on guard while walking around the store.

Row after row of scary masks were mounted on the walls and they had what looked like every costume you could possibly want. Accessories like fake swords and guns were in baskets at the end of the aisles while makeup, fake teeth and wigs were in another aisle.

You never really experienced many holidays as a kid either being on the road with your father so you were really enjoying looking at everything in the Halloween shop.

The animatronics section was pretty incredible and Dean knew exactly which ones to turn on to try and scare you…the spiders. The first one was black with black and red striped legs and glowing red eyes. You nearly climbed up the wall when it jumped out in front of you and as you lurched forward, it tripped the motion sensor for the large fuzzy gray spider next to it.

While trying to control his laughter, Dean said, “You should have seen your face! Actually, you can see your face, I got it all on video!”

“Very funny, baby.” You replied with narrowed eyes, pressing your lips into a straight line, and folding your arms protectively across your chest.

“Oh it was very funny.” Said Dean.

You hadn’t decided how but you were going to get him back.

Charlie managed to find probably the scariest clown mask on earth to scare Sam. He patiently waited behind one of the other clown animatronics and just as Sam was about to walk past him, he jumped out and gave his uncle a good jump scare. All of the color drained out of Sam’s face leaving him white as a ghost.

“I got you good Uncle Sam!” Charlie said with a wide smile across his face.

Stuttering slightly over his words, Sam replied, “Y-yes y-you did, buddy. Why don’t we go put that mask away ok? Far, far away. Ya know what, let’s just buy it so I can burn it…that thing is…terrifying.”

Of course Dean recorded that one too. It was tough to scare him because he wasn’t scared of much but you had an idea that you texted to Sam and you needed a distraction so you could buy what you needed without Dean noticing.

You told Dean you would buy Charlie’s costume for him which was a perfect cover for what you needed to buy to get Dean back for scaring you with those spiders.

“Alright…we ready to go?” Dean asked.

The three of you nodded and then headed for home.

**********

“We tried to scare you, Dad! Nothing worked.” Said Charlie during dinner.

Dean replied, “It’s ok, buddy. I’m just not easily scared. You three on the other hand…I think Sammy is gonna have nightmares about that clown mask. And don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll check under the bed for giant spiders.”

Dean’s lips curled up into a devilish smile.

While Charlie was getting ready for bed, you gave Sam a quick nod, silently communicating to him that it was time to get Dean back for scaring you. Charlie was in his bedroom getting ready to do his part to try and scare his father.

With a confused look on his face, Dean looked over at you and Sam and asked, “Did Charlie go to bed?”

You glanced down the hallway toward Charlie’s room and the door was closed.

“He must have; the door is closed.” You replied with raised eyebrows.

Dean walked down the hallway and opened the door to Charlie’s room. It was completely dark inside and when he flicked on the light he saw a figure sitting on Charlie’s bed in a doll mask; Dean yelled “AHHHH!” and stumbled backwards into you and Sam also wearing creepy doll masks, making him jump even higher off of the ground.

You recorded his reaction to Charlie on your phone while Charlie recorded Dean’s reaction to you and Sam on Sam’s phone. The perfect revenge.

You managed to pull it off when he least expected it and as you tried to control your laughter, Dean stormed out of the room with a sour look on his face.

“Ok, ok ya got me!” Scoffed Dean, throwing his hands in the air.

After hi-fives all around, you chased after him.

“Where ya goin’, baby?” You asked with a wide smile.

“You got me with the one thing that freaks me out…I hate dolls.” He said, pacing back and forth with his hands on his hips. “Is that why you offered to buy Charlie’s costume?”

“Well I needed a way to be able to buy those doll masks without you noticing.” You said. “But I also really want to buy Charlie’s costume for him. I never got to participate in Halloween when I was young so it was nice to see the excitement in his face. Tonight was really fun for me, Dean.”

He pulled you in close, your chest flush with his, and he kissed you on the forehead as you melted into his embrace.

“Even though I scared you with spiders?” Asked Dean.

A wide smile stretched across your lips as you hummed into his chest, “Hmmmm, even though you scared me with spiders.”

“I love you.” He said softly. “Charlie loves his costume. You heard him earlier. He won’t stop talking about it.”

As you snaked your arms around his neck, you pulled his face toward yours until his lips met yours. Dean growled against your mouth as he parted your lips with his tongue and held you in a firm embrace.

Your fingers were spread wide as to let his soft brown hair glide in between them while his large hands roamed all over your body before resting them firmly on your hips.

Whispering against his mouth, you replied, “I’m so happy he does and I love you too, Dean.” You paused briefly, enjoying the feeling of his hands dancing up and down your back before saying, “Ya know…I got something else from the Halloween store that I thought you’d might like.”

A sly smile stretched across your lips as Dean walked over to the table where the bag was. He looked inside and saw the sexy nurse costume, then yelled out to Sam, “Sammy! Will you watch Charlie for a little while, I gotta go…take care of somethin’.”

Sam stuck his head out of Charlie’s room, “Dean, I have some research to do for a case. I need some time to—“

But Dean interrupted him, “Ok thanks, dude. I’ll be back later. Byeeeeee!” Said Dean, quickly ushering you out of the front door. “Go, go, go sweetheart.”

Sam shouted down the hallway as the front door slammed shut.

“DEAN!!!”

Too late, the two of you were already halfway across the yard, headed toward your house and tonight he was going to show you what an adult Halloween was all about.

Tag List: @munsonownsmyass @gijos @vaguekayla @stoneyggirl2

Others that might enjoy: @k-marzolf @jvanilly @fluffyprettykitty @deans-spinster-witch @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend

[crushingonevery1]

Im okay (part 1)

Warning: nothing really, slight mention of anxiety, reader has a chip in her body, i think that's it

Pairings: Peter Parker x girlfriend reader

School just ended and Peter and you were sitting in detention after being caught talking in class. You were both guilty of getting detention on purpose more times than you would like to admit. Your uncle and aunt were never home during this time so you got the most freedom to spend time with Peter. And currently, they were both on a business trip and had locked the mansion basically leaving you on the streets to fend for yourself for the week. You weren't complaining tho May and Peter had very generously offered for you to live with them whenever that happened, cause it happened way too much. Your uncle would come to find you through the tracker installed in your shoulder once they were back. You were sure he knew about Peter but just didn't care or didn't find a 17-year-old too dangerous for his "asset".

You were both just exiting school and going back home when Peter got a call from Mr Stark of course you knew about him being Spiderman so after reassuring him that you will be fine and that he should hurry up, you made your way towards Peter's while he left for the avengers tower.

-------------------------------

At the tower, it had been a few minutes since the quinjet had landed and everyone was scattered in the living room and kitchen filling up. Peter was texting you every detail of his mission and happily smiling when you told him you were proud of him. Obviously everyone noticed that the usually talkative teen boy was smiling and blushing towards his phone and not talking to anyone or even replying when Tony called out to him. so Tony after getting ignored for the second time finally pulled out Peter's phone out of his hand looking at who he was texting.

"TONY!!" Pepper shouted clearly unimpressed.

"Relax pep I'm basically his dad" he replied very confidently looking through the texts before finally clicking on your pic. All the while Peter just sat quietly trusting Mr Stark with anything and deciding it was about time he told them about you despite you saying no.

"Who you texting kid??" asked Sam all the way from the kitchen clearly entertained knowing Tony was in for an ass-whooping later.

"umm... my girlfriend..." that got everyone's attention. It was TOO quiet for a good 2 mins before Tony finally pitched in.

"She's cute. Although I'm not sure telling her every detail of our mission to impress her is a good idea, you are not THAT ugly kid."

"WAIT WHAT!!!"spoke the one and only captain america " Peter how could you be so reckless!!". He was clearly disappointed and usually peter would instantly apologise when he saw someone upset. not this time tho, he felt the need to defend you.

"no shes not like that i swear, she would never... She's already got so much of her own stuff going on she can't and she won't."

Seeing the usually too obedient kid argue against cap everyone understand whoever you were, you were important to Peter and they will figure out whether you were a danger or not before passing anymore comments to hurt the kid. They all kept quiet and Peter was about to apologise for being rude when Scott spoke up from the couch next to him. "so hey, when do we get to meet her?? How long has it been? How'd you meet? Give us the deets kid."

Seeing all of them waiting impatiently for his answer made him a lot more calmer before he decided to answer a few questions they might have.

"Her name's y/n. She's in my maths class, and she's like super smart, like more than me. We started officially dating like a month back but we were best friends before that too. She's really close with Ned and MJ too!!" He was practically shouting out of excitement by the time he finished. They smiled widely at the whipped teenager remembering their own first loves and congratulating the spider. When everyone was done sharing their first love experiences Tony finally spoke "As much as I loved hearing about Manchurian candidate being a complete chick magnet, circling back to the exciting part of today, Underoos,when do we get to meet the spider girl?" This made Peter blush profusely before he finally spoke

"Mr stark, you know how my birthday is next week ??" At this tiny doubtfully nods, clearly dissatisfied that his question was ignored. Ignoring the expression on the older man's face Peter continues "Do you think you could throw me an early birthday party...like today?"

Completely forgetting everything at the name of a party Tony very happily replied "You got it Underoos, EVERYONE!! TONIGHT AT 8!! MY KID'S TURNING LEGAL!!"

"next week stark, the kid turns legal next week, you're not letting him drink today"

Ignoring the fight in the background between Tony and Steve everyone went back to whatever they were doing while Peter made his way to the kitchen where Sam, Bucky, Pepper and thor and loki sat. He quickly took a seat at the table dialing your number extremely excited to hear your voice.

"hey honey, did you reach home safe??" "Yes I did Pete I texted you remember?"

"Right!Is may home?" "No she went to help aunt Betty she told us yesterday at dinner"

"oh that's even better! Hey Mr stark is throwing me a birthday party tonight can you please join us it would mean the world to me" "ofc Pete anything. But...your birthday's next week isn't it ?"

By now the convo between Bucky and thor had calmed down and they were all very much listening to your conversation with zero shame.

"Yea! Yea ikr! I told Mr stark but you know him, he's so ...extravagant!!so he just wanted to have a early celebration" the lie made everyone hearing cringe very evidently but they awaited your reply not expecting you to buy that.

"right... I'll be there ofc but umm...you think u could meet me at the gate...I don't want to have to walk in among all the supers completely alone... actually nevermind I'm being a baby I'll be there, you enjoy with your frien-" "hey relax, breathe for me, I'll be coming home in a bit we'll get ready together and come to the party together don't worry, okay ? Rest well honey I'll be home in an hour"

They were superheros for godsake your unusual anxiety instead of excitement over your boyfriend's birthday was wayyyy too obvious in your voice, but there was currently a bigger issue at hand...

"YOU'RE LIVING TOGETHER?!?"

------------------------------------

[im-not-here48]

Peter Parker is a photographer at heart, which means not only is he stealthy (even more so than the Spider-Man powers allow) but he’s a nosey bitch and I will stand by this fact forever.

The boy has super-hearing and (one of my headcannons is that he) has a great memory, the info and blackmail this kid has could put Fury to shame.

No one suspects him, he’s an innocent kid who’s a bit hyper, but it’s apart of his charm. What very few notice is that during his constant movement, he’s matching it with constant surveillance. Taking in every detail, every bit of data, info and gossip he can.

Later he will use this as bargaining chips. “Please sign this and I won’t tell Nat that you accidentally joined a cult when you were 16 :)” “If you don’t take me to get ice cream I’m going to open twitter and randomly announce that you’ve been lying about your birthday for the past 105 years” “Mr.Stark if you don’t let me help with Cap’s shield I will reveal the real amount of sleep you’ve had in the past week to Pepper”

He’s an evil genius. He’s incredible. He’s a dumbass, but he’s good at his job.

Of course he does regret it a bit when he tried to listen in on Sam and Bucky hanging out one night and hearing something no teenager should ever hear from the men he thinks of as uncles. He has yet to be able to look them in the eye. They have no idea why.

Natasha and Him are terrifying together.

Clint is scared, Tony is scared, Steve is tired.

[megamindsecretlair]

It's a Little Warm, Part 1

Cross posted on @megamindssecretlair

Read Part 2 | Read Part 3 | Read Part 4 | Read Part 5

Pairing: Bucky x Black!Fem!Reader / Plus Size Reader

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. There is some making out, unresolved tension! Mentions of private parts but really mild. Cursing. Mild age gap. Reader is late 20s and Bucky is mid 30s. Soft Bucky. Part 1 of 5. Slow burn to smut though. Some sentences are intentional AAVE.

Summary: Sam Wilson is your play uncle and has invited you and Bucky to stay at a cabin with him, Sarah, and the kids. Bucky was sweet enough to help with your bags. You also found yourself up in the wee hours of the morning with him.

Word Count: 4,221k

A/N: I've been reading a lot of age gap fics at cabins and wanted to try my spin. Apologies if I miss any warnings or this is super corny. But here we go! While likes are awesome, please consider reblogging and commenting to help support writers!

“Kinfolk!” Uncle Sam yelled and shoved past people in his quest to scoop you into his arms and spin you around. You yelped, not used to anyone swinging you around like a doll. You were short but far from petite and the sudden loss of your feet firmly planted to the ground made your stomach flip. 

“Put me down!” You yelled. You slapped at his massive arms but that only made him chuckle. Mercifully, he stopped turning and set you on your feet. “Look at you!” 

You rolled your eyes. “I just saw ya’ll last week!” 

His chuckle was quick as he threw his head back. “You barely come out of the house, I got to comment on the special occasion.”

You twist your lips and roll your eyes. “I see being Captain Chocolate has made you even cornier,” you said.

Uncle Sam laughed and threw his arm over your shoulder. “Oh, see you got jokes. I see working for that newspaper ain’t help with them lame ass nicknames. I thought you had a better vocabulary than that?” 

“Somehow I always forget it when I come around ya’ll,” you said. Uncle Sam only chuckled. “Where’s your bags?” 

“Got it in the car for now,” you said. 

Uncle Sam frowned. “Give me a minute, I’ll come help you,” he said. 

“I’m perfectly capable of bringing up my own bags,” you said. 

“That ain’t what I said. C’mon and say hi to Sarah. She’s glad there will be another woman this week,” he said. You follow Uncle Sam through the cabin, weaving through close friends of his and Aunt Sarah. 

The cabin had an open plan for the living room and dining room. People milled around watching a football game and sitting on large, comfortable couches. The dining room was cottage chic as a few of the elderly people sat around it talking and fanning themselves. Kids nearly pushed you over as they ran through the cabin.

“Say ‘excuse me’ next time!” Uncle Sam called after them. A chorus of “excuse me’s” rang out as you waved them off. Finally, you made it through the sea of people into the kitchen where various aunties were passing around bowls and spoons and tinfoil. 

They smiled at you and you were passed around like the last piece of pie as everyone got in their hugs and kisses and well wishes. The last person to hug you was Aunt Sarah. She hugged you just as hard as Uncle Sam did. 

“Damn, ya’ll would’ve thought I died or something,” you said. 

Sarah laughed. “Oh my god! I’m just so happy it’s not just me staying here this week. Sam gets his puppy, I should get one too,” Sarah said and laughed, pushing her braids behind her ears. 

Before you could ask what she meant, a booming grandfatherly voice called out for Sam. He told them that he’d be right back and headed out of the open side door towards the backyard. Smoke rose into the air as a full barbeque station was being managed by an elderly man with a cap and New Balance shoes on. You shook your head. Every time.

You opened your mouth to ask what Sarah meant by the puppy comment but movement to your left caught your eye. A man entered the kitchen in a soft burgundy shirt and jeans and large dusty boots. He scanned the room before spotting Sarah and broke into a wide grin.

He was simply gorgeous. It was the type of smile that could stop traffic. Perhaps even cure cancer if he grinned hard enough. His eyes crinkled in the corners as he approached. 

“You must be Sam’s niece,” he said and extended his hand. 

“Uh yes, nice to meet you, Mr. Barnes,” you said and took his hand. His hand was rough and calloused and slid across your soft palm, making your hand tingle. 

He smirked and shook his head. “Ugh, Mr. Barnes makes me sound old. I’m not that old. Bucky is fine,” he said.

“You are that old, you old dinosaur,” Uncle Sam said, materializing right next to you. He clapped you on the back, making you jump. “He’s so old, Moses asked him to lead the choir,” Uncle Sam said and laughed.

The group laughed and Bucky rolled his eyes. “At least I don’t have any gray hairs,” Bucky said. 

“Ay man, you take that back. That’s hurtful,” Uncle Sam said and smoothed down his faded haircut. 

You couldn’t take your eyes off of Bucky Barnes. It had been wild hearing about the man from Uncle Sam and Aunt Sarah, but seeing him in person was an entirely different experience. 

Aunt Sarah leaned her hip against the counter and looked between the two men. “See, Sam gets his puppy and I get another human being to talk to. Once you get these two started, they keep going on and on,” she said. 

You narrowed your eyes and tilted your head. “Bucky’s staying with us for the week too. It’s rare they come home at the same time these days. So we’re gonna make a thing out of it,” Aunt Sarah explained the unspoken question lingering in the air.

“Ah, gotcha.” 

“Hey, we bring the sunshine and the good vibes. All day, baby. Now, pass over the keys,” Uncle Sam said and held his hand out. 

You shook your head. “I can get it, it’s not a big deal.” 

The cook for the festivities called for Uncle Sam again. He groaned and nodded towards Bucky. “Wrestle the keys from her so we can help with her bags and take it upstairs. She’s stubborn.” 

“Stubborn doesn’t work on us, doll,” Bucky said and turned that mega-watt smile on you. You sighed and fought to keep all kinds of dirty thoughts out of your mind. Could super soldiers read minds? 

“Hey, hey, hey! None of that. Paws off!” Uncle Sam said.

“Oh my god,” you groaned. Your cheeks instantly flamed and you were grateful for your darker skin. It hid the obvious signs of a blush. You turned to Aunt Sarah for help who laughed and shook her head. She gave you a pitying look as if to say she wouldn’t be any help. She looked Bucky up and down and winked at you. 

“You’re not really my uncle, you know,” you said. 

“I’m your uncle in the ways that matter. Don’t make me bring a hose in here. It’s hard enough keeping the aunties off of him.” 

The cook called out for Uncle Sam again. He gave them a warning glare before you turned back to Bucky who held out his metal hand. It had intricate designs etched into it and seemed really, really advanced. You half wondered if it was from that famous Wakanda. You’d just about die to have a chance to go there one day. 

“I can get it myself. You don’t have to bother,” you said. You backed away, bumping into random partygoers talking in the kitchen. The press of bodies seemed to double as you backed away towards the front door. You knew you should have brought your things inside earlier. But you were already running late and just wanted to unwind from the long drive. 

Bucky stalked forward, patient as a hunter, with his arm still outstretched. His grin turned into a patient smirk. 

“Right, being stubborn doesn’t work on you,” you said. 

His answering smirk was enough to melt your panties. You looked away from him. If he couldn’t read your mind, he could at least read your facial expressions. And none of your thoughts were holy. 

You dug into the back pocket of your shorts and slapped your keys into his hand. “Thanks, doll,” he said.

You had, hand to god, actual shivers run down your spine. His voice had the right amount of gravel in it to skate over your nerve endings. And you weren't even standing that close to him. 

Bucky held out his hand for you to lead the way and you took the opportunity to calm your racing heart and nerves. He was a solid wall of heat at your back as you maneuvered your way to the front door. Your sandals slapped against the hardwood floor but even with his boots, he was silent. You felt like a bull in a china shop. 

You gave yourself a pep talk. Somehow, someway, you were supposed to survive an entire week with that. You supposed it was true. You should never meet your idols. You might get the overwhelming urge to climb them like a tree. 

Okay, thoughts like that weren’t going to help. You supposed you could limit your contact as much as possible. Hide out in the room or down by the lake. Anything. As long as it meant you weren’t right next to the man. 

You led Bucky outside and towards the makeshift parking lot. A dizzying array of nearly every make and model crowded the rented cabin’s lawn and rocky driveway. You had to park a little ways away and walk down to the cabin. Making it to your beat up Honda, you waved to it. 

Bucky smirked and popped the trunk. You had two suitcases, plus your laptop bag. You moved to grab one and Bucky tsked at you. He tsked at you as if you were a child! 

“You don’t like people doing things for you, do you?” Bucky asked with a smirk. He bent down to retrieve your bags. He didn’t even grunt at the weight. This was your poor attempt to pack light. But since you were a big girl, your clothes didn’t roll up all cute and tiny. You had to adjust and shove things until they fit enough for the suitcase to close. 

“I’m not used to it. Makes me feel weird,” you said. 

“Why’s that?” 

“I don’t know. Makes me feel useless. I feel like I should help,” you said. He got the second suitcase down and slipped your laptop bag over his shoulders. You closed the trunk.

“So you were going to haul all of this to the cabin tonight by yourself?” 

“Yes?” You hadn’t meant to make it a question, but he asked as if he were scolding you. You fought an eye roll and bit the inside of your cheek. He was being nice. But it still grated. As far as the City of Nawlins was concerned, you were a full growed adult. 

“It gets pretty dark out here. It could’ve gotten dangerous. A random car could hit you or a wild animal could trip you up,” he said. 

“You always so fatalistic?” 

“I’ve had reason to be,” he said.

Right. Doofus. “I am so-”

“Don’t be,” he said with a smirk. “Once you fight scaly purple monster-aliens, it’s hard not to see danger everywhere. Just because you can do things by yourself doesn’t mean you can’t accept a little help. Okay?” 

You nodded slowly, feeling like a proper idiot. Of course the man was fatalistic. You didn’t know everything about him. Most of it came from Antman’s book or Uncle Sam’s stories, and it wasn’t the whole story. Still, it was enough to know that Bucky had more than enough reason to be wary of potential danger. 

You took a deep breath and avoided looking at him. He carried your bags into the house and up the stairs. He nodded towards a door a few paces down the hallway. You opened it to find a spacious room, decorated with a nautical theme. You smiled at the blue and white scheme, the anchor pictures on the wall, and the goofy full sized bed. 

Bucky gently set your bags on the floor and your laptop bag on the small desk. As he leaned over, his shirt rode up a bit revealing creamy skin and subtle muscles. 

“What’s that, doll?” Bucky asked as he straightened. 

“What?” You asked, a little too loud. You looked at him and he put his hands on his waist as he surveyed the room.

“I thought you said something,” he said. Did he have to draw attention to his tiny ass waist? Seriously. This man couldn’t be real. It was like he stepped out of a smut book. He was the definition of sexy as sin. Everything he did was seductive. 

“Figured you’d get the better room,” he muttered with a sigh. But you got the sense that he was teasing. You looked around and noticed the huge window. You went to it and peeked out over the backyard. Uncle Sam was leading the group dance along to a Tupac song. 

You turned with a smile to tell Bucky but you noticed his eyes dart up to your face. Was he…?

No way. You shook your head. “Where’s your room?” You asked.

“Right across the hall. Just holler if you need anything, I’m a light sleeper.” 

Your mind wandered to how he would look asleep. His dark hair tousled and floofy. You bet he slept without a shirt on. He seemed the type. Plus he was like a furnace. He probably got hot. Which meant…

“Uh right. That must suck. I sleep like a little brick,” you said. Your cheeks burned again. 

“I haven’t slept that well since before the war,” he said and shrugged. “You okay?” 

“I’m fine. I probably just need some water. It’s a little warm in here. I mean outside. I mean today,” you said with a laugh. You looked at the floor and closed your eyes. Yup. Operation Avoid Bucky At All Costs commenced now. 

“Well come on. We better get downstairs before Sam steals all the ribs like last time. I thought food lasted longer at cookouts?” Bucky asked. 

You laughed. “Rule number one of cookouts: make your to-go plate before your real plate,” you said. 

He backed out of the room with a grin. You followed and closed your bedroom door behind you. 

“You’ll have to explain that one,” he said. 

You explained the intricacies of cook out etiquette as you headed down the stairs and on the way outside. Bucky listened and didn’t interrupt no matter how many side stories and funny anecdotes you told. Once outside, Uncle Sam waved from the dance area. 

Uncle Sam moved and shimmied his way through dances, making everyone around him laugh. He wore long, navy shorts and a light blue shirt. You shook your head as he tried to twerk and made everyone nearly fall out with laughter. 

You stood side by side with Bucky as you watched. You kept all of your focus on Uncle Sam. You absolutely did not notice how heavenly Bucky smelled or how he blocked the sun for you. 

Aunt Sarah called your name and you looked behind you. She sat at a table and waved. She pointed to a plate she made for you. Your stomach chose then to grumble. You waved back to acknowledge her. 

“I better…” 

“I’ll catch you around,” he said with a small smile. He headed off into the swarm of people with ease saying hi and clapping people on the back. 

You took a deep breath. Maybe food was exactly what you needed. If you were too busy stuffing your face, you didn’t have time to think about Bucky Barnes. 

You were burning up. For such an open room, the southern heat was eating you alive. You had already kicked off most of your pjs, leaving nothing but an oversized T-shirt and your panties. In a minute, you were going to take that off too, but you desperately needed some water.

You got out of bed, fumbling around in the dark. You stubbed your toe on the corner of a dresser and bit the inside of your cheek to keep from yowling. You danced in place until the sharp pain subsided.

You had no idea what time it was but after the party, cleaning up, and trading stories around the kitchen table, everyone peeled off for bed around two or three in the morning. The sun wasn’t yet up so you only managed to get an hour or so of sleep. 

Your tongue was dry and thick. You moved it around, trying to get your spit going. That last tequila shot definitely did you in. You sighed heavily as you padded down the hallway and the stairs. 

The silence was near deafening as you crossed the wide open space. The cabin was dark but there was enough ambient light from the open curtains letting in moon light. You could see enough to cross the living room towards the kitchen.

You opened the fridge door and bent over to look for leftover water bottles. You danced a bit as you tried to focus long enough to find a bottle. The fridge blew cold air that washed over your flushed skin. You scratched absently at your bonnet. 

Finally finding some water, you uncapped it and stood up to down nearly half the bottle. You turned around and screamed, jumping back into the fridge door. Bucky sat at the kitchen table. The light from the fridge gave him an otherworldly appearance.

Bucky stood up instantly and crossed the small space towards you. He held out his hands to steady you. “You okay? I’m sorry,” he said. 

You slapped him away and scrambled for the nearest light switch. “You scared me half to death!” 

Miraculously, you drank too much for the water to slosh out of the bottle so none of it spilled. You clutched the cool bottle to your racing heart. Your hands shook and you took deep breaths to calm down. 

Bucky had the good nerve to wince before closing the fridge door. “I’m truly sorry,” he said.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You asked.

Bucky chuckled. “Well, I wasn’t trying to scare you. A random voice in the night would’ve scared you more,” he said. 

You flopped into the nearest kitchen chair. You were too hot and too shaken up to care that you wore a bonnet around Bucky. There was no need to avoid him now. You were about as sexy as a paper clip. 

He dropped back into his seat. Now that you were calming down, you noticed that true to your daydreams, his hair was pleasantly tousled. He didn’t wear a shirt but he did have dog tags hanging from his neck. His metal arm gleamed in the low light. 

“Couldn’t sleep either?” You asked.

He smirked. “Not really,” he said. 

“Nightmares? Want to talk about it? I’ve been told I’m an excellent listener,” you said.

He absently rubbed a spot on the wooden table. “Wasn’t a nightmare this time. Actually had a dream. For the first time in a long time.” 

You looked at him as he held a smirk, but there was no humor in it. You sat patiently, giving him the space to talk about it or not. It didn’t seem like he was inclined, so you sipped your water and listened to the subtle animal sounds from outside. 

“It wasn’t anything fancy. Quite boring actually. I dreamt I was back in Wakanda. It was peaceful there,” he said softly.

A million questions danced in your head. But you nodded and smiled at him to continue. “There was a small lake where I used to sit for hours and just be. I didn’t get a lot of chances to do that in my life. Being here just made me miss it, I guess,” he said.  

“I get that. Dream freaked you out enough to come sit in the dark by your lonesome?” You asked.

He chuckled and nodded. “I can’t always trust what’s in my head. Sometimes I need to ground myself and I’m still getting used to how soft beds are these days,” he said.

“Oh, they make them firmer. Like sleeping on an ironing board,” you said. 

Bucky chuckled and shook his head. “I’ve slept on worse,” he said. 

“Ugh, no thank you. Give me the softest bed you can find. I wanna disappear into an infinite void of clouds and pillows and blankets,” you said. 

Bucky grinned and looked at you. “Don’t you have to be this tall to even climb into the bed?” He held up his hand to exaggerate how short you were. You stuck your tongue out at him. 

“Next to you, everyone’s short,” you said.

“And yet you’re still the shortest,” he said and laughed. You leaned up and slapped his regular arm. 

“You’ve been hanging around Uncle Sam too long,” you said.

Before you could pull back, Bucky grabbed your wrist and prevented you from moving back. He rubbed lazy circles as he looked at you.

“Why do you call him Uncle?” 

Your heart rate sped up for different reasons. His touch was feather soft and sent all kinds of crazy signals to your belly. 

“I grew up around their family for years. But when Sam joined the Air Force, I called him Uncle Sam as a joke. Kind of stuck. He already saw himself as my older brother so we kept it. Sarah felt left out so I called her Auntie,” you explained.

Bucky hummed and nodded. He glanced down at the circles he was making on your wrist. 

“Where’s your family?” He asked.

You shrugged. “Deadbeat, emotionally abusive parents. I ditched them a long time ago and I don’t talk to them.” 

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“S’okay. Good riddance. Sam and Sarah and the boys are all I need. If you’re gonna keep coming around, I guess that includes you too,” you said.

Bucky chuckled and finally released your wrist. “You should probably try to get some sleep. Apparently, Sam has plans scheduled for the whole week,” Bucky said softly. 

“Sam loves his plans. You gonna get some rest?” You asked.

“I’ll try,” he said. 

You nodded. You stood up and moved to walk past him. But you stopped and bit your lip. You reached up and stroked his cheek. 

“I hope you get some sleep,” you said. You didn’t quite want the spell to break yet. It was early morning and the house was quiet. In the moments you spent down here, your body had cooled. However, standing so close to him while his clean soapy scent enveloped you, your body heated up for entirely different reasons. 

You slid your fingers under his chin and made him look up at you. His lips parted as he looked from between your eyes to your lips. He sighed as he trailed his fingers along your thighs. You made a squeak as the cold metal of his arm touched your heated skin. 

He skirted his fingers up and beneath the hem of your shirt, but he didn’t press further. He drew more lazy circles into your skin. 

Fuck it. You leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. He sighed again, against your lips, and tugged you closer until you were straddling his thick thigh. You braced one hand on his other thigh and the other around his metal shoulder. 

He devoured you in a strong kiss, teeth clashing against each other. His tongue swiped against your lower lip before you opened for him. His tongue dived inside and slid against your own. 

His metal arm wrapped around you to keep you steady. His hand was better than a brace as it kept you from slipping off of him. His other hand came up to stroke your jaw before wrapping around your neck.

Not even you could keep the needy moan from escaping your lips. His lips moved over yours with expert care. Your hands came up to feather into his hair and trail down to the nape of his neck where you lightly scratched him.

A shudder moved through him that you felt all the way to your pussy. You shamelessly grinded on his leg. There was nothing but his sweatpants and your panties keeping you from skin on skin contact but you were sure he could feel how damp you were already. You’d be embarrassed except your thoughts were consumed with him. With touching him and feeling your nipples rub against his bare chest.

As soon as the kiss started, Bucky pulled away from you. Your harsh breaths mingled with his as you both panted. He plucked your hands from around his neck and held them in between you like a silent prayer. He got a faraway look in his eyes as he stared at your hands. 

He leaned down and kissed your fingers before leaning back and staring at the ceiling. Almost as if he were staring straight into Uncle Sam’s room. 

“You should go back upstairs,” he panted. 

You wanted to be angry. He didn’t get to just dismiss you. You practically threw yourself at him and that realization was enough to dump ice water in your veins. How embarrassing. 

You got up slowly and nodded. Without saying another word, you left the kitchen. Cool air hit the sweat along your face and neck and you shivered from the lack of heat. His heat. But you were a grown woman. You would be okay. 

You trudged all the way to your room and closed the door before falling face first into bed with a soft groan. 

What, the actual fuck just happened?

Read Part 2 | Read Part 3 | Read Part 4 | Read Part 5

There is now a follow up! It's a Little Cold

[swan-of-sunrise]

Hawkeye (Part I)

Summary: Six days before Christmas, a four-month pregnant (Y/N) accompanies Sam and Bucky to a performance of Rogers: The Musical while Steve and Carina stay home, and any hope of a quiet Christmas for the growing Rogers-(Y/L/N) family is dashed when the married couple catches a shocking news report that threatens to expose their friend as the world’s most prolific vigilante.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Hi there and welcome to the 4-part series centering around Hawkeye and the Christmas of 2024! This is such an underrated and underappreciated show, and I always knew that I wanted to write (Y/N), Steve and their growing family into it (and give a little extra love to Clint, ‘cause he deserves it!). This’ll be very faithful to the show, but expect a few surprises along the way lol thank you for reading, and I hope you all enjoy!

Hawkeye (Part I) December 19th, 2024 The Home of (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and Steve Rogers, Brooklyn (Previous One-Shot)

With Christmas only a week away, the Rogers-(Y/L/N) house was filled to the brim with festive cheer. Their beautifully adorned tree stood tall in the living room beside their grand piano and throughout the rest of the house, they’d set out their plethora of holiday decorations; thanks to Steve’s growing proficiency at baking, the air was laced with the mouthwatering aroma of peppermint, gingerbread and vanilla. The only thing that could improve their cheerful home was the laughter of close friends inspired by the greatly anticipated opening of Broadway’s newest hit show, Rogers: The Musical.

“I’m tellin’ you, Steve, you missed out on one hell of a show!” Sam twisted the cap off his beer and smirked as he took a long sip. “I can’t believe I’m gonna say this, but watchin’ these two trying their damndest to keep their cool was way more entertaining than watchin’ Nick Fury sing.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes at her best friend’s exaggeration, taking off her jewelry piece by piece and looking through the living room mirror that she was stood before at her highly-amused husband seated behind her. “Don’t listen to Birdbrain, sweetheart, he’s embellishing the truth yet again; as long as you ignore all the blatant historical inaccuracies, it’s a perfectly enjoyable musical.”

“That’s easy for you to say, doll, they didn’t have you doin’ a corny tap dance number to somehow symbolize the hell of war,” Bucky grumbled under his breath, still miffed by his out-of-character portrayal in the musical and Sam’s overly-enthusiastic reaction whenever ‘Sergeant Bucky Barnes’ had appeared onstage to sing or dance. “Trust me, buddy, you saved yourself a whole heap of annoyance and justifiable indignation by staying home.”

“Well, I figured that my brief brush with showbiz back in ’43 was plenty enough for one lifetime,” Steve replied with a grin, patting his best friend’s shoulder as he got up from the couch and crossed the living room to help (Y/N) undo the clasp of her necklace. “Even one as long as mine. But hey, I had a stack of unfinished sketches and my little angel to keep me company here at home, and I didn’t have to watch the guy playing me sing a power ballad to a giant poster of Uncle Sam.”

When the necklace’s chain loosened, (Y/N) turned around and pressed her lips against her husband’s in a brief but sweet kiss of thanks. “I should count myself lucky; the rest of the world has to buy a ticket to a hit Broadway show to hear Steve Rogers belt out a power ballad, but all I have to do is listen in on him whenever he takes a shower.”

Sam and Bucky laughed at that and after a chuckling Steve retaliated by tickling the sensitive skin of her neck and stealing another kiss from her, (Y/N) headed upstairs to change out of her black cocktail dress and into her pajamas. She breathed a sigh of relief when she kicked off her black kitten heels and after peeling off her dress, she hung it over the back of her vanity’s chair and smoothed a hand over the satin slip that covered the slight swell of her four-month-pregnant belly. “Thanks for being so cooperative in there tonight, gumball. I had a really fun time with your Uncle Sam and your Uncle Bucky.”

Unfortunately, (Y/N)’s second pregnancy was almost the polar opposite of her first; where she hadn’t begun to show until her second trimester and she never once experienced morning sickness, she was already transitioning into maternity wear and she’d been plagued with intense nausea for over a month straight that was only just beginning to ease up. Their night on the town served as both an enjoyable evening with friends at a so-bad-it’s-good musical adaptation of her husband’s life, and a test to see how well she’d do during her latest book promotion tour in January.

It seemed as though she’d be able to physically handle all the interviews, press conferences and book signing, but she was still working on preparing herself mentally to discuss the chapter of her life that had brought her the greatest joys and largest despairs. While Assemble: The Unabridged History of the Avengers was the definitive chronicle of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, it wasn’t quite as unabridged as one would expect; the remaining Avengers had agreed on what details should be kept from the public – namely, their utilization of Pym Particles to achieve time travel, the entirety of the time heist and Clint’s five-year-long stint as the vengeful Ronin – so not only would she be tasked with discussing the deaths of her friends and allies, she’d also have to carefully work to keep those certain details a secret. Not an easy feat when you’re already experiencing pregnancy brain, she thought to herself with an inward sigh, slipping into her satin nightgown and tugging her robe on as she crept across the hall into Carina’s dimly-lit nursery.

Predictably, her fifteen-month old daughter was fast asleep in her crib, curled up under her colorful Wakandan-made blanket and clutching her stuffed white wolf; Indy, their senior German Shepard rescue, was nestled in his dog bed at the foot of the crib and when (Y/N) quietly entered, his head snapped up at attention but he immediately relaxed when she scratched behind his ears and the thick fur of his neck. Once their protective family dog was placated with scratches, she leaned over the crib and took a moment to observe her peaceful daughter; as energetic as the half super-soldier was throughout the day, she absolutely loved to sleep and hardly ever complained when they put her down for her two daily naps. Greg and Mara warned her that her daughter’s mild-mannered attitude could always fade away once she entered her ‘Terrible Two’s,’ but (Y/N) had a gut-feeling that Carina’s early adventures through space and all the battles against un-dead Asgardians and Thanos’ bloodthirsty army that she’d been present for gave her a resilience that most grown adults would never come to possess.

“Sweet dreams, my little lemon drop,” (Y/N) murmured, her fingers gently brushing her (Y/H/C) locks out of her face before she leaned down and pressed a feather-light kiss onto her forehead. “I love you.”

After tucking the blanket around her daughter’s sleeping form, (Y/N) gave her one last smile and turned away from her crib, unsurprised to see Steve leaning against the nursery’s door frame with a content smile playing on his lips. “Sam and Buck already turned in for the night, so I thought I’d check in and see how my three lovely ladies were doing.”

“Two, sweetheart; you know as well as I do that we haven’t found out the sex of the baby yet.” She quietly closed the nursery door and looked at her husband with playful suspicion as they strolled hand-in-hand into their bedroom. “Unless you called up Dr. Prince behind my back.”

“Nope, just some good old-fashioned fatherly intuition.” Steve chuckled, bending down to press a kiss onto her small bump before they went about getting ready for bed, with him changing into his pajamas while she removed her makeup and applied her nighttime skincare in their room’s adjoining bathroom. “The guys mentioned that Barton and his kids were there, too.”

(Y/N)’s fingers momentarily stopped massaging moisturizer into the skin of her face as she recalled the grief etched into the archer’s face when Natasha’s character first twirled onto the stage. “Yeah, they were kicking off their Barton Family Christmas with a little trip to the city to see the show. They left about halfway through; Clint texted me later saying that it was because the kids were a little restless and they wanted to go out for Chinese food before it got too late, but…but I think it had something to do with Nat.”

Steve sighed but remained silent; when (Y/N) finished her nighttime routine and walked back into the bedroom, he was already sitting on his side of the bed with a downcast expression on his face. “He still blames himself for what happened on Vormir.”

“I think so, but I also think he knows that nothing he could’ve done would’ve stopped Nat from making that call…” With a sad sort of smile, she slipped out of her robe and climbed into bed beside her husband, adjusting the comforter over their laps and meeting his saddened azure eyes. “Most of all, I think he just misses her.” And I know exactly how he feels, she thought to herself as her throat burned and she tried her hardest not to imagine the faces of those she still grieved over.

Not a day went by when (Y/N) didn’t think about all the friends they’d lost over the past several years: Tony, Natasha, Vision, Loki and most recently, T’Challa; just as suddenly as they’d lost their four friends and teammates in the battle against Thanos, the King of Wakanda had passed away after a private battle with illness over two months ago. It seemed that with each blessing that appeared in their life, there was an equally devastating blow waiting just around the corner for them and as each one was dealt, (Y/N) started to truly comprehend the all-consuming grief that had followed Clint like a shadow since Thanos’ Snap in 2018.

Being with Steve and Carina and knowing that there was a new baby on the way certainly helped, as did sharing memories of those they’d lost with her husband and their two best friends and focusing her attention on her upcoming book tour. Steve, understanding all too well the emotions that were brewing within her, brought a hand up to cradle her cheek and drew his thumb across her cheekbone as his eyes softened with empathy. “When Cari dumped her entire bowl of spaghetti onto her head the other night and we had to give her an emergency bath, one of the first things that went through my mind was that Nat would get a kick out of hearing that story. It took me a second to remember that she…” Steve’s voice cracked and he swallowed thickly before continuing. “I’ve fought gods and monsters, I’ve traveled through space and time and I’ve lived long enough to believe that in this universe, anything is possible. She knows, sunshine…they all do.”

With tears in her eyes, (Y/N) let out a watery laugh and accepted the tissue that he offered her. “You sure you’re not the New York Times best-selling author in this family?”

“Nah, it’s just easier to land an emotional speech when your wife’s hormones are constantly being thrown for a loop by a four month old fetus,” Steve replied with a lopsided grin while she shook her head in playful exasperation and dabbed at her tear-filled eyes. “We should probably get some sleep; Sam and Buck have an early flight to New Orleans tomorrow, and we’ve still gotta take Cari to the mall for her picture with Santa.”

(Y/N), recalling her best friend Greg and his wife Mara’s many horror stories of taking their little Abbie to see Santa, bit her lip and replied, “Our daughter spent the first month of her life surrounded by Sakaarians, un-dead Asgardians and Chitauri soldiers, so I’m sure that a picture with a complete stranger dressed as Santa Claus’ll be a piece of cake.”

“Of course…” The longer her husband thought it over, though, the more hesitant he appeared. “But maybe we should pack her stuffed wolf just in case-?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

Ever the true gentleman, Steve discarded her tissue for her and switched off their bedside lamp before burrowing under the bedcovers beside her, leaning over to brush his lips against her brow while she slipped her arm over his torso. “I also have to text Scott; when we were finishing up my interview for his book last week, he made me promise to give him a review of the musical. I think he wants to take Hope and Cassie when the touring company comes to San Francisco in the spring.”

Steve chuckled and carefully wound his arm around her to hold her closer. “He’ll be happy to know that they decided to add him to the Battle of New York. Speaking as one of the six people who was there, though, I’m not too sure what the presence of Ant-Man’s meant to add to one of Earth’s first alien invasions.”

“That’s the beauty of historical fiction: you can play fast and loose with dates, times and events for the sake of dramatic purposes while still portraying a person’s real-life story. In this case, adding one of the most popular Avengers to one of the most famous Avengers battles doesn’t change the fact that you – the main character – really were there.” (Y/N)’s eyes drifted closed and she could feel her body relaxing against Steve’s as sleep began to take hold. “With that being said, I just know he’s never ever gonna stop talking about it…”

Their tired laughs were suddenly interrupted by a sharp rap on their closed bedroom door and before either of them could say anything, the door opened and the light flickered on to reveal Sam and Bucky entering their room with matching frowns on their faces. “Sorry for barging in, guys, but you’re gonna wanna see this.” While Sam crossed over to retrieve the television remote from (Y/N)’s nightstand, she and Steve exchanged a look of confusion as they sat up and Bucky sat himself down on the edge of their bed as Sam switched their television on to NY1.

“…following a breaking news story, a high society gala rocked by an explosion when it went off at Park Avenue and 68th Street tonight. The cause of the explosion is still under investigation, but witnesses captured cell phone footage of a masked assailant fleeing the scene.” The news anchor’s face was replaced with an unsteady video of a bustling 68th Street; a masked figure dressed from head to toe in black vaulted over a speeding car and scooped a matted Golden Retriever up into their arms, both sliding out of the busy traffic just in the nick of time. The amateur footage paused on a close-up of the masked figure, and (Y/N)’s heart leapt into her throat when she recognized the imposing black and gold leather suit. “Authorities believe the assailant could be-”

“The Ronin,” (Y/N) breathed, and the implications of the infamous suit’s reappearance were not lost on her or the other three men in the room.

“-Who once terrorized organized crime here in New York and around the world for five brutal years. This is the first potential sighting of the Ronin in years, and his identity continues to remain a mystery to this day. We will continue to follow this breaking news story and report on any developments as they come in-”

Sam muted the television and turned to face them with a troubled expression written across his face. “That sure as hell wasn’t Barton in that video.”

“Which means one of two possibilities: either somebody with a sick sense of humor’s running around New York in a handmade Ronin suit and playing out their little fantasy of being a vigilante…” The fingers of Bucky’s vibranium hand traced along the raised lettering of his old dog tags as his brows furrowed, his earlier pleasant mood long gone and replaced with a dark trepidation. “Or someone found the real suit in the wreckage of the Avengers Facility.”

His features drawn with a solemnity reminiscent of his days as Captain America, Steve carded his hand through his rumpled blonde hair and stared at the muted footage of the imposter. “Either way, Barton and his kids are in danger; if they manage to find out the Ronin’s true identity, then every single member of the city’s criminal underworld is gonna go after him for revenge.”

(Y/N) let out a weary sigh and reached for her cell phone that was charging on her nightstand. “So much for that Barton Family Christmas…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: And there you have it! How do you think the Rogers-(Y/L/N) family will fit into this show? What're the surprises that are gonna pop up? I guess you'll have to tune in for the rest of the chapters to find out! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ziGMhEsAw833GQ9eV44nR?si=6dfead09c76848d5 

Hawkeye (Part II)

Stumblin’ In Book VII: “Superhero Snapshots” Masterlist 

Tagging:  @mrs-obrien​​​​​ @lahoete​​​​​ @awkward117 @cminr @natdrunk​​​​ @momc95​​​​​ @savedbystyle​​​​​ @miraculouscloud @awkwardnesshabitat​​​​​ @marinettepotterandplagg​​​​​ @mangosandmimosas @supersouthy @benakenalove​​​​​ @brooke0297​​​​​ @hufflepeople​​​​​ @becausewelie​​​​​ @outoftheregular​​​​​​ @junipermurdock​​​​​ @ladydmalfoy @mads-weasley​​​​​ @username23345@crist1216​​​​​ @capswife​​​​​ @lilmschild​​​​​ @avngrsinitiative @crowleysqueenofhell​​​​​ @y-napotat​​​ @mary1raven​​​​​ @groovyqueer​​​​​ @ljej95​​​​​ @innersublimefury​​​ @prettysbliss​​​​​​  

[samsseptember]

Samtember 2023 Calendar, Rules, and Guidelines!

Hi, Sam Wilson Nation! It's that time of year again when we all get together to celebrate our beloved Sam Wilson's birth month. That's right, it's ✰samtember2023✰ !!! 🎉

As per usual, the event will be running from Friday, September 1st to Saturday, September 30th and there will be prompts set for each day:

Fluff/Family Week (and Two Days):

September 1 - Free Space

September 2 - First Flight | Riley  

September 3 - Delacroix | Louisana

September 4 - Siblings | Uncle Sam

September 5 - Fishing | Camping

September 6 - Day Off | Vacation

September 7 - Memories | The Future

September 8 - Figaro | Sick Day

September 9 - Carnival | King of Mardi Gras

Captain America Week:

September 10 - Cap Quartet 2.0 | Mission Fic

September 11 -  Workout | Team Training

September 12 - Shield | Legacy

September 13 - Interview | Rumor

September 14 - Magic | Multiverse

September 15 - Undercover | Amnesia 

September 16 - Night Out | Madripoor

AU Week:

September  17 - Wings | Angel

September  18 - Western AU | Cowboy  

September  19 - Celebrity AU | Royalty AU 

September  20 - Bird Telepathy | Redwing

September  21 - Zombie AU | Apocalypse AU 

September  22 - Hurt/Comfort | Disaster Fic

September  23 - Birthday 🎂🧁

Canon Week:

September  24 - In the Air Force | Time in D.C.

September  25 - Part-Time Avenger | On the Run

September  26 - Working for Fury | Wakanda

September  27 -  Post-Blip | TFATWS

September  28 - Post-TFATWS | Meanwhile, On the Boat

September  29 - Uniform | Cap Suit 

September  30 - Sam Wilson 

We have opened a collection on AO3 that can be found here, or by typing samtember2023 in the add to collections option.

You can also tag any works you post with #samtember2023 or tag this blog @samsseptember​ - works will be reblogged every day throughout the month. 

Can’t wait to see what everyone comes up with! 

What works count for this fan event?

Any of the following count:

fanfic

podfic

fanart

gifsets

photosets / moodboards

graphics

Haikus

videos / edits

playlists

Whichever way you want to celebrate Sam Wilson, it’s up to you! 

The rest of the FAQ and rules are under the cut.

FAQ

What is this?

It’s a Sam Wilson fan event.

Is there any pressure?

No pressure at all. Fill one prompt. Fill all the prompts on for the month. Do however many you please.

Can I fill more than one prompt with one piece of art/one fic?

Yes! You can fill one prompt with one piece of art or fic. You can try to fill all 30 prompts at once with one piece of art or fic. If you can fill every single prompt from every single day in one fill, that’d be wild but it’s okay by the rules. You can do any number in between.

Are there any prizes for making anything for this event?

Just the satisfaction that you made something cool.

Should the work I make be Sam Wilson-centric?

Yes. You can make a gen work or a piece with any ship with Sam Wilson in it, but the main focus should be Sam Wilson.

How long will this event run?

It will run from September 1st to September 30th.

I heard there are badges I can use for each fill?

There will be! They will come out daily.

Do I have to post my fic for the prompt on the day of the prompt?

You can if you'd like, but it's okay if you post a piece on a day other than the day of the prompt.

RULES AND GUIDELINES

What are the guidelines for the event?

I will be borrowing some of this from the MYSU Valentine’s Day Bingo 2022 Guidelines, since they were fantastic.

For Everyone:

1. Remember to tag @samsseptember in the post as well as #samtember2023.

2. Please also tag the prompt you’re using (for instance, if the square is “Redwing”, use “#redwing” as one of your tags when posting about it on Tumblr).

3. If you’re uploading to AO3, please:

a ) Say somewhere which prompt you’re filling.

b ) Add it to The Samtember Collection (under Samtember2023).

For Artists:

1. Create at least one piece of new art that can’t have been posted anywhere else before this.

2. All visual art forms are welcome:

a ) Gifsets or photosets, at least 3 gifs or photos.

b ) Aesthetic boards or moodboards, at least 4 images each.

c ) Drawing/painting, that is not a sketch.

d) Fan video.

e) Graphics edit.

For Authors:

1. At least 500 words.

2. Posted on Tumblr or AO3.

3. Can be part of a series, but should work as a standalone.

For Podficcers:

1. The podfic should at least be 10 minutes long.

2. It should be posted on either Tumblr or AO3.

3. The podfic can be of a fic made for the event, a fic not made for the event while still adhering to the prompt, or a notfic.

Things to be mindful of when creating:

For Sam

Avoid framing Sam only as a caretaker or emotional support for Bucky. Be mindful of Sam acting angry or aggressive in an out-of-character way and falling into the angry/sassy Black man trope (check out the MCU source material to help with character traits).

Avoid decentering Sam as a main character and refrain from focusing entirely on Bucky.

In art: avoid whitewashing Sam’s skin and research drawing Black characters.

General disclaimer: Race affects every aspect of his life, including interacting with police/government and the white structures of the world when it comes to performing his duties as Cap and simply being a Black man that lives in the U.S.

Specific Tags:

Avoid tags in AO3 like “Sam Wilson is a Gift” and “Sam Wilson is a Saint”.

Have fun and we look forward to your Samtember 2023 works!