#Compound Workouts

[trendbuzzz]

Best 12 Tricep Compound Exercises: Pump Up Your Arms!

Attention, fitness enthusiasts! Are you tired of the same old tricep routine, longing to carve out arms that command attention and admiration? Well, you’re in for a treat because we’re about to unveil the ultimate arsenal of Best 12 Tricep Compound Exercises that will transform your arm game and leave you with sleeve-busting results. Great! We’re delving deeply into the theory, methodology, and…

[cassiemaebarnes]

Freak Like Me

Bucky x reader

Summary: You got banned from playing music in the training room for a reason, and when an unexpected song plays during your workout, Bucky finds out why.

Word Count: 2311

Thought I'd give you guys something a little more spicy! Hope you enjoy :)

You walked down the hall of the Avengers tower toward the training room, and it was uncharacteristically quiet. You knew a lot of the Avengers had meetings today, but you didn’t think everyone did. You were glad though, because you didn’t really like working out with other people and you could play whatever music you wanted over the speakers.

You listened to a little bit of everything, and that was true for working out too. The music would go from rap, to pop, to rock, and while you didn’t blink an eye, everyone else hated it. So, naturally, you got banned from playing music when everyone else was in there.

You walked around the corner into the training room and came to a stop. Bucky was inside warming up on the treadmill. Of course someone had to be in there, and of course it had to be Bucky. He of all people would be most likely to hate your music.

You hadn’t brought your headphones, and you thought about going back to get them when Bucky looked your way.

“Hey, y/n,” he said, turning off the treadmill.

“Oh, hey Bucky,” you said, realizing it probably looked like you were standing there staring at him.

You walked in and set your stuff down, plugging in your phone by the benches because you forgot to charge it last night.

“What are you hitting today,” Bucky asked.

“Steve is making me do his leg workout,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Yikes, have fun with that.”

Bucky walked over to pick up some weights as you were trying to decide whether or not to ask if you could play music. You assumed he would say no, but decided to ask him anyway.

“Hey Buck, is it cool if I play music?”

“Yeah, go ‘head,” he said, surprising you.

“Oh, okay cool.” You went to your settings to connect your phone to the speakers, then pressed shuffle on your workout playlist. The first song that started playing was an old rock song, so you were hoping Bucky wouldn’t regret saying yes too much. Then, you walked over to the other side of the training room to get set up.

Your playlist went through a bunch of different genres, but thankfully, Bucky didn’t seem to mind. You were both just minding your own business and doing your own thing.

A little bit later, a new song started playing and you heard Bucky call over to you.

“Hey, I actually know this one,” he said, with a proud smile on his face.

You just laughed, listening to the music and realizing it was Put Your Head on My Shoulder by Paul Anka. It would’ve came out after the 40s, but apparently Bucky still knew it.

But then, you started thinking, this song would not be on your workout playlist. Your eyes went wide when you realized what song it actually was. Freak by Doja Cat.

You quickly reached down for your phone to change the song, only to realize it was still plugged in on the other side of the room. Plus, you couldn’t just change the one song Bucky said he knew without him being suspicious.

You started to freak out, knowing the song would definitely make him uncomfortable, when the music paused for a brief moment. You held your breath for what was coming next.

“Freak like me. You want a good girl that does bad things (to you).”

You looked at Bucky, and you couldn’t see his face because he had his back facing you, but he had stopped in the middle of his workout. You started over to get your phone when he turned around.

“What the heck is this?” he asked, a mix of confusion and horror on his face.

You stopped, trying to figure out how to answer, when the song kept going.

“Tied him down to my queen bed. Tease him just enough to hate me. Tied it tight enough he can’t break free.”

You scurried over to the benches and grabbed your phone, quickly skipping the song. You tried to play it cool, but Bucky was already walking over to you.

“So, is this why you got banned from playing music? You play songs about sex?”

You sighed. “No, they just don’t like that I play so many different genres,” you said, your face heating up.

He just hummed in response, still staring at you with his steel blue eyes.

“And here I was, thinking that you were so innocent,” he said, smirking.

“It’s – just a good song,” you replied, trying to defend yourself. Your face was bright red at this point, and you knew he was loving this, making you squirm.

“So, which one of the guys are you wanting to tie down to your bed, hmm?”

Your jaw dropped, face flushing as you tried to figure out how to respond to that.

“No one,” you said, “it’s just a catchy song.”

“Right,” he responded, his smile getting a little bigger. You knew he was never going to let this go.

“Well, I’m gonna go back to my workout,” you said, walking past him. But before you could get very far, he grabbed your arm and turned you toward him in one quick motion. You were now standing chest to chest, your faces just inches apart.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you played that song on purpose. I mean, we are the only two people in the tower for another couple hours,” he said, his voice low and deeper than it was before, sending a shiver down your spine.

Your jaw dropped slightly once again, trying to figure out if he was being serious or not. Your heart was thumping in your chest, and you hated to admit it, but him pulling you towards him and talking in that voice was making you insanely turned on.

You opened your mouth, but when nothing came out, Bucky’s smirk just got bigger.

“I – I didn’t play that on purpose,” was all you could say.

Finally, Bucky broke character and started to laugh, dropping his hand from your arm. Your skin was still tingling where his hand had been.

“I’m just messing with you y/n,” he said, laughing. “You should’ve seen your face though!”

You stood there in shock as he walked away, trying to wrap your head around what had just happened. You walked back to the other side of the room, but you weren’t able to focus on the rest of your workout. You didn’t dare look over toward Bucky, so you had no idea that his gaze kept shifting to you, distracted from his own workout.

You finished your workout as quickly as possible and made a beeline for the door, grabbing your phone and not saying a word to Bucky as you practically ran out the door.

You were halfway down the hallway before you finally felt like you could breathe again. You didn’t realize how you had basically been holding your breath that whole time. You got back to your room and quickly jumped in the shower, just wanting to relax after how worked up you were.

You stepped out of the shower when you realized you forgot to grab clothes to change into. You sighed, trying not to focus on how nothing seemed to be going your way today. You just wrapped your towel around you after drying off and walked out of the bathroom to your room.

You were halfway down the hallway before you looked up and stopped dead in your tracks. Bucky was standing outside the door to your room.

And you were standing in front of him in nothing but a little towel. Could this day get any weirder?

“Uhh, what are you doing?” you asked.

“Sorry I just – was gonna apologize, but – seems like you’re really trying to get my attention now,” he said, a smirk plastered on his face yet again.

You sighed, determined to not let him get under your skin this time. Maybe you’d have a little fun with him.

“And what if I am?” you said, giving him a smirk of your own.

His smirk turned into a brief second of shock, and you could tell he was caught off guard.

You sauntered down the hallway, walking right past him into your room, but not before running your hand along his arm as you walked past. You could feel his eyes on you as you walked into your room, not bothering to close the door.

You walked over to your dresser, bending over to get clothes out, knowing your towel was long enough to cover you, but not quite long enough to keep Bucky from going a little crazy. You made sure to pick out the tiniest pair of shorts you own and a cropped baby tee.

You turned around grabbing the top of your towel like you were going to drop it at any second. His face was bright red and he looked like a deer in headlights. Man was this fun.

“You standing there hoping for a show, or can I get dressed in peace?”

“Oh, uh – sorry,” he mumbled. He pointed at the door, “do you want me to, uh – never mind,” he put his head down and practically ran the other way.

You tried so hard not to bust out laughing as you went over and shut the door.

Once you put on your clothes, you walked back down to the kitchen to get something to eat. Conveniently, Bucky was right there, sitting at the island.

“Hey Buck,” you said, flashing him a smile.

He looked you up and down, obviously liking what you were wearing.

“Hey,” he finally managed to get out.

“Are you gonna make something for lunch,” you asked him.

“Uhh, yeah I was gonna make some eggs.”

“Oooh, that sounds good, maybe I’ll make some too.” You walked over to the drawer with the pans, exaggerating every movement as you bent over. You knew he was going insane.

“Do you want me to just make yours too,” you asked, not bothering to turn around. You set the pan on the stove, finally turning around when he didn’t answer you.

That’s when you realized he was right behind you, looking at you with a deep intensity in his eyes. He had been so flustered, you didn’t expect him to do anything about it.

He slowly leaned forward, arms grabbing the counter on either side of you, trapping you in place.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Umm, making eggs,” you said, slowly.

“Are you tryna’ kill me, doll?”

The nickname made your stomach flutter.

“I was joking earlier,” he said, “I never thought you’d do it back.”

“And what makes you think I’m joking?” you responded.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that I’ve never seen you wear so little clothes around the tower.”

“I was still hot from my workout,” you said, shrugging.

“Oh, trust me, I am too,” he said, lifting his eyebrows.

Bucky didn’t back up, and neither did you.

He looked down at you, his voice rough with restraint. “You keep playing with fire, doll.”

You tilted your head, meeting his stare without flinching. “Maybe I like the heat.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched as his eyes darkened. For a moment, neither of you moved—until he reached up, brushing a strand of damp hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered against your cheek, trailing lightly down your jaw.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he murmured.

“Good,” you whispered, your voice breathy.

And that was all it took. He leaned in fast, pressing his lips to yours with a force that stole your breath. One hand gripped the counter beside you, the other sliding around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. You gasped into the kiss, fingers fisting in the fabric of his shirt, and he took that opportunity to deepen it—his lips moving hungrily against yours like he’d been waiting for this for far too long.

When you finally pulled apart for air, his forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing hard.

“Still want eggs?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.

You smiled, shaking your head. “Not really.”

Bucky’s smirk returned, but this time it was laced with something deeper—need, maybe, or anticipation. He backed you gently out of the kitchen, never breaking eye contact.

“Then come on, sweetheart,” he said. “Let’s see how hot things can really get.”

And just like that, lunch was officially off the menu.

--

The next morning, you woke up tangled in warm sheets—and even warmer arms.

Bucky was still fast asleep behind you, his chest pressed to your back, metal arm draped lazily over your waist. His steady breathing tickled the back of your neck, and you smiled, remembering the very unexpected turn your day had taken.

You shifted slightly, and his grip tightened instinctively, pulling you even closer. “Mmm… don’t move,” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

“I thought super soldiers didn’t need this much rest,” you teased softly.

His lips brushed your shoulder. “They don’t,” he murmured. “But if it means waking up next to you like this…I’ll gladly pretend to be human.”

You rolled your eyes with a grin and reached behind you to ruffle his hair. “You’re such a sap.”

He grinned against your skin. “Only for you.”

Your phone buzzed from the nightstand, a text from Nat lighting up the screen:

You forgot to clean the pan from your “egg-making” session yesterday. Sloppy cover story, y/n.

You groaned and hid your face in the pillow as Bucky peeked at the message over your shoulder.

“So… busted?” he asked.

You sighed. “So busted.”

He laughed, pulling you closer again. “Worth it.”

And you had to admit—it really, really was.

[niconiconwo]

I saw that Fire Force has a season 3 now, so I will be rewatching the first two so I remember what's going on there.

[techdriveplay]

What Are the Best Exercises for Strength and Flexibility?

When looking to enhance your overall fitness, it’s essential to focus on both strength and flexibility. Whether you’re an athlete or someone aiming to improve everyday mobility, balancing these two aspects can help prevent injury, improve posture, and increase longevity. Understanding what are the best exercises for strength and flexibility will empower you to create a comprehensive workout plan…

[beloveds-embrace]

(a very low-effort post abt 141 x their new hacker- you. For better immersion, click on the song link during Soap’s workout! <3)

The first time you make contact, it’s through their personal phones.

Not the official military-issued devices- no, those would be too easy. You wanted to make an impression.

So when Price, Ghost, Gaz, and Soap each glance at their personal screens, expecting the usual notifications from Laswell, they’re instead greeted by:

(¬‿¬) Hello, boys.

Price sighs like a disappointed father, having been forwarned of your antics, and still immediately calls Laswell.

“Care to explain why my phone just got hijacked?”

Laswell doesn’t sound surprised. If anything, she sounds like she’s been expecting and waiting for this- for his phone call specifically about getting hacked. “That’s your new hacker.”

Price pinches the bridge of his nose, while the others exchange Looks of Consideration™️. “That’s how she introduces herself?”

“She’s efficient.”

“She’s cheeky.”

“She’s listening,” you interject, making them all jolt as your voice plays from the phone speakers, honey-sweet and undeniably smug.

There’s a long silence. Then Gaz whispers: “What the fuck?”

You giggle. (≧◡≦) flashes onto all their screens right after that, just as cheeky as your tone.

“So she’s just gonna creep around in our phones now?” Gaz asks after that, wary, an eyebrow raised and his arms crossed.

In response, just his screen flickers, and a new message appears.

(╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻ Rude.

Laswell sighs again, much like an exasperated mother, and gestures at their phones. “Give her a chance. She is, despite everything, good at what she does.”

And so from that that moment on, you’re everywhere; they don’t see you, but they feel your presence. You’re in their systems, their devices, and their comms.

Ghost boots up his laptop one day, only to find that his standard background has been replaced with a pixelated skull and crossbones- like those they did on pirate ships in movies. Below it, in small text:

For the spookiest boy.

He says nothing, just tilts his head slightly before closing the laptop.

And when Price logs into the briefing room terminal, instead of the standard military insignia, the screen briefly flashes with the words:

WELCOME BACK, CAPTAIN DILF.

Soap loses it. Price glares at him, then at the screen, then sighs, muttering, “Christ.”

Soap isn’t free from your shenanigans, though.

One day, while doing his usual workout, he pulls up his playlist. The moment he presses play, his music app forcefully closes and reopens with “The Drunk Scotsman” blasting at full volume.

“NO, NO, NO-“ Soap scrambles to shut it off as the entire base turns to look at him.

On his screen, once the app is blessedly closed, a message pops up:

(ʘ‿ʘ) Dance, pretty boy.

And then Gaz’s torture is quieter, but no less effective.

Every so often, while he’s texting, his camera light flickers on. Not long enough to take a photo- just a brief, eerie blink before an emoji appears on his screen:

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

He groans. “She’s messing with me.”

“You mean flirting?” Soap smirks, leaning closer to the phone and chuckling as the camera light flickers back on for just another few seconds.

Gaz scowls. “…I hope so.”

Still, despite all your antics, you’re brilliant at what you do. And they learn this firsthand during their first mission with you.

“All teams, check-in.” Price orders as they move through a darkened compound.

Instead of Laswell’s voice responding, it’s yours. Soft, smooth, and playful.

“Five by five, Captain.”

There’s a pause- brief but notable. Then, Price exhales. “You hacking my comms now, too?”

“Wouldn’t be a very good hacker if I couldn’t, would I?”

Soap snorts, snickering with Gaz. “She’s got a point.”

Ghost, listening quietly, murmurs: “Thought you didn’t speak.”

“Only when necessary. Or when I feel like annoying you.”

Your voice is warm, teasing. If Ghost were anyone else, he might have smiled. And then, just like that, you’re all business.

“Sniper on the rooftop, two o’clock.”

Ghost adjusts, and then fires. A body drops.

“Price, your six.”

The captain pivots, taking down the enemy creeping behind him.

“Soap, slow down.”

“I got this,” Soap insists- only for a grenade to go off near him. “…I don’t got this.”

“Clearly.”

“…Shut up.”

With you in their ears, everything runs smoother. Their feeds don’t lag. Their encryptions are tighter. They feel- secure. With you and Laswell? Almost untouchable, but they don’t let it get to their heads.

When they return to base, exhausted but alive, their phones light up with a single message:

(￣︶￣) Good job, boys.

They stare at their screens, and then Price huffs a laugh. Soap grins. Gaz shakes his head. Ghost, unseen beneath his mask, smirks.

They don’t know your face. Haven’t met you in person.

But they decide you’re theirs, and they are yours. Even if you’re just unknown- for now, anyways.

[kylewalker-peters]

could do with spurs and the f1 to be over and done with in the next 2 hours like let's just wrap this nonsense up by midday and try and salvage this Sunday afternoon

[fitnessmentor]

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[hanaridulsetcheese]

Eyes On You ~ Bucky Barnes

warning : contains 18+ content

The clang of weights hitting the floor echoed through the Avengers compound gym, rhythmic and sharp. You had wandered in with the innocent intent of grabbing your water bottle left behind after yesterday’s run but that plan was immediately derailed when you saw him.

Bucky Barnes. In all his sweaty, grunting, post-serum glory.

He was at the cable machine, tugging down on the ropes with a force that made the muscles in his back ripple beneath the tight fabric of his grey shirt. You didn’t even realize you’d stopped moving, lips slightly parted, as your eyes travelled down the way his shirt clung to every ridge of his sculpted back. The fabric strained over his shoulders, and a small patch near his shoulder blades was already darkened with sweat.

You bit your lip.

“Like what you see, doll?”

Your heart practically jumped out of your chest. His voice was teasing, low, with just enough amusement to make your stomach twist. Your eyes snapped to the mirror in front of him, catching his smirking reflection.

Busted.

“I wasn’t-” You sputtered, clutching your water bottle like it could protect your dignity.

Bucky turned, slow and smooth, towel slung over one shoulder. His hair was tied back in a messy bun, a few strands clinging to his temple from the heat. That damn smirk was still playing on his lips.

“You weren’t what? Admiring the view?” he asked, walking toward you with maddening confidence. “Because, sweetheart, if you’re going to stare, at least be brave enough to own it.”

You crossed your arms, half-defensive, half trying to control your blushing. “I was just… impressed. That’s all.”

“Impressed?” He stopped in front of you, eyes narrowing with mock suspicion. “With what, exactly?”

You looked away. “Your back, okay? Your muscles. They were…moving. And it looked hot.”

Bucky grinned like a cat that just caught its prey. “Moving? Damn, that’s what does it for you?” He stepped closer, his voice dropping. “All this time, and I didn’t know you were a sucker for back muscles. Should’ve turned around more often.”

You rolled your eyes, trying not to let your grin take over your face. “Don’t get cocky, Barnes.”

“Too late, sweetheart.” He reached past you, brushing your arm just a little too intentionally as he grabbed his water bottle. “You know, if you ask nicely, I’ll let you touch.”

You blinked. “Touch?”

“My back.” He winked. “Might even take my shirt off, since we both know you’re dying to see it without the fabric in the way.”

“You’re insufferable,” you muttered, though your voice lacked any real venom.

“And you’re drooling.”

You smacked his arm, the flesh one, because you weren’t brave enough for vibranium. He just laughed, the sound low and rich. He leaned down a little, his lips close to your ear.

“Next time you want to stare, just come closer. I don’t bit.” he paused, his breath hot on your ear, “Unless you ask nicely.”

Your face flamed, and he just chuckled again as he walked away, muscles still flexing beneath his damn shirt, leaving you flustered, frustrated, and definitely ready for the next gym day. You weren’t going to let Bucky have the last word. Not after he caught you staring at his back like a thirsty teenager and then practically purred in your ear about it.

No, no. This called for revenge. Well-earned revenge.

So, the next day you dressed for the gym with a plan: tight leggings, a cropped tank top, and a sports bra that was just supportive enough to survive a workout but still left a little bounce in your step. You waited until Bucky was deep into his routine, heavy lifting, shirt already discarded, glistening with sweat like the universe had personally decided to test your patience.

You didn’t stare this time. Not openly.

You strutted past him, headphones in, pretending you didn’t notice him but oh, you noticed. And you made sure that he noticed you.

Bent just a little too slowly to stretch. Arched your back just a bit more during lunges and when he looked your way because of course he did you shot him a knowing smile like ‘You’re not the only one who can play this game, Barnes.’

Sure enough, after a few minutes, you heard a weight drop a little too loudly behind you. You smirked to yourself.

“Really, doll?” His voice was lower than usual, maybe a little breathless. “You think you’re slick?”

You turned slowly, pulling one earbud out. “I have no idea what you mean.”

Bucky gave you that look, the one that was half-amused, half-ready-to-devour. “You’ve been wiggling that ass like a metronome for twenty minutes.”

You feigned innocence. “Maybe I was just working out. It is a gym, you know.”

He stepped closer, sweaty, shirtless, and very much unimpressed by your act. “That stretch you did? You looked me dead in the eye while arching like a damn yoga instructor in heat.”

You tilted your head, biting your lip. “Oh, you mean like how you caught me staring and then spent an entire workout flexing like it was a performance?”

His grin slowly widened. “You really want to play this game?”

“I think I’m winning it.”

Suddenly, his hand was on your waist, fingers brushing just under the hem of your crop top. His voice dropped to a growl. “Careful, sweetheart. You’re going to make me forget we’re in public.”

You leaned in, lips brushing just shy of his ear. “That’s the point.”

He exhaled sharply. “You’re evil.”

You smiled sweetly. “No, I’m motivated.”

There was a long pause where your eyes locked, breathing shallow and tension thick then Bucky muttered “We’re finishing this. Not here. Tonight. Your place.”

You grinned, smug and victorious, and whispered back, “Bring the back muscles.”

He smirked. “Only if you promise to keep staring.”

Muscle Memory

You barely had time to light a candle before there was a knock at your apartment door.

He was there. Bucky. Leaning against your doorframe in a black hoodie and joggers that did nothing to hide the way his body moved. Hair still damp from a post-workout shower, stubble sharp, eyes darker than you’d ever seen them.

“You said bring the back muscles,” he drawled, stepping in without waiting for an invitation. “Hope you’re ready for full access.”

You arched a brow. “That was fast.”

“You’ve been teasing me for two days.” He shut the door behind him. “And don’t think I didn’t notice how you kept adjusting your leggings just so I’d look. Evil, I told you.”

You smirked. “And yet you’re here.”

He stepped closer until your back hit the wall, and his hands came up to cage you in, bracing on either side of your head. “Oh, I’m very here.”

You didn’t even have time to bite back a retort before his lips were on yours, hot, demanding, and so much rougher than you expected. His metal hand gripped your hip, pulling you flush against him while the flesh one slid under your shirt, slowly dragging upward.

“You want the shirt off?” he murmured against your lips, teasing. “I know how much you like the view.”

You tugged at the hem. “Take it off before I rip it.”

He chuckled, stepping back just enough to peel it off in one smooth motion. And there it was, those back muscles, bare now, broad and defined and utterly, sinfully beautiful. You ran your fingers across his shoulder blades, dragging your nails down slowly.

Bucky shuddered. “Shit. You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you?”

“Every time you picked up a dumbbell.”

He laughed, but it turned into a groan when you leaned in and kissed his shoulder, biting softly just above the muscle.

“Oh, you're a problem, doll.”

“And you’re a reward for good behaviour.”

His hands were under your thighs in an instant, lifting you like you weighed nothing and carrying you to the couch. He hovered over you, gaze drinking you in like he was memorizing the moment.

“I’m going to make you say it.” he murmured. “That I’m your favourite view.” His lips were on yours again, rough, greedy, like he’d been waiting for this moment longer than he’d admit. You barely registered the way he lowered you to the couch, your legs wrapped around his waist, the heat between you both rising with every hungry press of his mouth.

“You already are.” you whispered, nails already in his back again.

He growled, lips ghosting down your jaw. “Still thinking about my back muscles?” he rasped, grinding down against you. The hard line of him pressed between your thighs, and he smirked when he felt you arch into it.

You tugged at his hair, breathless. “They’re even better up close.”

He kissed down your neck, tongue flicking out to tease the skin just before he sank his teeth into your shoulder not enough to hurt, but enough to make you gasp.

“I want you to remember this next time you walk past the gym like you’re not going to stop and drool.”

“You’re so cocky.” you breathed.

“And you’re soaking.” he growled.

Your leggings were gone before you could blink, tugged down and tossed aside like they offended him. Then his fingers were brushing over your underwear, teasing the damp fabric with slow, deliberate strokes that had your hips lifting off the cushions.

“You’ve been this wet for how long?” he asked, kissing the inside of your thigh. “Since the gym? Or since I showed up at your door?”

“Since yesterday,” you gasped. “You knew what you were doing.”

He chuckled darkly. “Yeah, I did.” With one strong swipe, your panties were gone, torn with the precision of someone who knew exactly how to use a vibranium hand.

“Oops,” he murmured innocently, then slid two fingers through your folds, slow and agonizing. “God, you feel even better than I imagined.”

You were about to sass him back, but then his mouth replaced his fingers. Hot, relentless, tongue curling around your clit until you were clutching his hair and biting your lip hard enough to leave a mark.

“Bucky- ” you gasped.

“Say my name again like that,” he groaned, looking up at you with those dark, ruined eyes. “Say it when I’m inside you.”

You pulled him up, impatient, desperate, tugging at the waistband of his joggers. He was already pushing them down, revealing that he hadn’t bothered with boxers. Of course. Cock hard, flushed, and thick, he stroked himself once before lining up at your entrance.

“You sure, sweetheart?”

You met his eyes, voice low. “I want everything.”

That was all he needed.

He slid in deep, stretching you, filling you and you moaned into his shoulder as he bottomed out. He paused just a second, letting you adjust, then started to move.

Slow at first. Teasing. Until your nails dug into his back again.

Then he snapped.

His pace turned punishing, driving into you hard and deep, like he was trying to prove a point with every thrust. Your body rocked with every motion, breath hitching, thighs trembling around him.

“You feel that?” he grunted in your ear. “That’s what you’ve been begging for with those little looks. That’s what you earned.”

You could barely respond, moans spilling from your lips like he’d knocked every word from your brain. All you could do was hold on and ride every wave he gave you.

“Gonna come for me, baby?” he murmured, thumb circling your clit. “Come all over this cock you were so busy staring at.”

And you did, body arching, back curling, vision flashing white as your orgasm tore through you. Bucky followed with a deep groan, burying himself fully, head dropped to your shoulder as he pulsed inside you.

Silence.

Then, a breathless laugh from him. “Still impressed by the muscles?”

You grinned weakly. “Next time, I’m staring harder.”

Ride or Die

You were still catching your breath when Bucky leaned back against the couch, looking sinfully smug, naked, glistening, arms stretched along the top cushions like some Greek god built for wrecking your life.

“You good, sweetheart?” he teased, lips curling. “Did I ruin you a little?”

You straddled his lap before he could blink, palms flat on his chest, pinning him where he sat. “Oh, baby,” you purred. “You think you did something?”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “I know I did.”

You rolled your hips slowly against him, teasing both of you. His cock twitched between you, not even fully soft, like his body knew the game wasn’t over.

“You want to talk confidence?” you murmured, leaning in to kiss just below his jaw. “Let me show you what happens when I take control.”

Bucky groaned, eyes fluttering shut as you gripped him and lined him up again. He was still slick from the first round, sliding in slowly as you sank down on him. Inch by inch until he filled you completely.

“Fuck,” he hissed, head falling back. “You tryna kill me?”

You rolled your hips in a slow circle, hands planted firmly on his chest, nails lightly scratching down the muscle. “You can take it, soldier.”

His hands flew to your thighs, gripping them hard, trying to urge you faster but you held your pace slow, torturous, grinding down in a rhythm that had him begging now.

“You’re evil,” he muttered. “This is worse than the gym teasing.”

You grinned, bouncing a little harder now, letting the sound of skin slapping skin echo through the room. “You like it.”

“I fucking love it.” he groaned, bucking up into you.

But you grabbed both his wrists and pinned them back to the couch, smirking down at him. “Nope. You’re staying right there. Watch me.”

And he did. His eyes locked on yours, blown wide, almost desperate as you rode him slow and deep, making sure he felt everything. You clenched around him just to hear him curse. Dropped your hips down hard just to see that vein in his neck twitch.

“Look at you,” you breathed. “All those muscles, all that strength and I’ve got you melting under me.”

“Fuck, please,” he groaned. “Let me touch you.”

You leaned down and whispered against his lips, “Earn it.”

His mouth crashed into yours hot, messy, full of desperation. And that’s when you gave in, letting him grip your ass, guide your movements, thrust up into you as you bounced harder and faster, both of you chasing that edge again.

When you came, it was wild and raw. Your nails digging into his shoulders, your whole body shaking. Bucky followed seconds later, gasping your name like a prayer as he came deep inside you again.

You collapsed against him, both of you panting, sweating, utterly wrecked.

After a long beat, he nuzzled your neck. “You win.”

You smirked into his shoulder. “Damn right I do.”

[techdriveplay]

5 Bodybuilding Tips From the Champion Himself Calum Von Moger

The AusFitness Expo is returning to Sydney this October, and some of the biggest names in the fitness industry will appear over the weekend. One of those is the iconic Calum Von Moger, the Australian bodybuilder who is a three-time Mr Universe winner. Calum has 3 million followers on Instagram, has been compared to Arnold Schwarzenegger and even played him in a movie once. Attendees of the event…

[cassiemaebarnes]

Grumpy & the New Girl: Part 1

Masterlist

Bucky x reader

Summary: She wasn’t supposed to meet him like that. He wasn’t supposed to let her in. But sometimes, things don’t go according to plan.

Word Count: 3238

You had been in contact with Steve Rogers for a while now, and your dreams finally came true. You were now, officially, an Avenger.

You moved into the compound just a couple days ago, and you had just been following Steve around every day, learning how things worked around here. You were taken on (several) tours of the tower, but you were still lost every time you walked around. You sat in on meetings and started doing your own solo workouts that Steve gave you in the afternoons.

Everyone was really nice and helpful, and you had officially met everyone. Except one person.

Bucky had been on a solo mission for the past week, and he was supposed to be coming back the next day, probably in the afternoon. The others had warned you about him – his staring, his brooding, how grumpy he was – so you were a little nervous to meet him. But you didn’t have to worry about that until tomorrow.

Because you didn’t have to get up early to train with the others, you stayed up late, watching a movie. You had chosen a horror movie tonight, so you were sitting on the couch, blanket wrapped around your shoulders, knees pulled up to your chest, hands just below your eyes, ready to cover them at any moment.

Suddenly, you heard the elevator door ding, causing you to jump.

You quickly paused the movie, listening closely since you couldn’t see the elevator door from the couch. It was just off the kitchen, and you heard heavy footsteps walking down the hall in the opposite direction of the kitchen, towards the…well you actually didn’t remember what was down that way.

You quickly got up and crept into the kitchen. You slowly walked in, eyes trained on the doorway to the hall they had just walked down. You glanced at the clock on the oven, realizing it was almost 1:30 am.

You looked back at the hallway, slowly reaching to grab a knife off the stand on the counter. You slowly made your way to the doorway, holding the knife out in front of you…only to realize it wasn’t a knife.

You had grabbed a spatula.

You rolled your eyes at yourself, arms dropping to your sides. You turned back around to switch the spatula out with a knife, when you heard the footsteps again, approaching the kitchen.

You quickly turned back around and quietly ran to the doorway. A spatula would have to do.

The second they took a step into the kitchen, you jumped out in front of them, spatula inches away from their face.

A metal arm grabbed your wrist, and you realized who it was. “Bucky?”

He moved your hand out of his face so he could see yours. “And you must be y/n,” he said, letting go of your wrist.

You dropped your arm, taking a step back. “Sorry, I thought you were breaking in.”

“And a spatula was your weapon of choice?”

You sighed, hoping he hadn’t noticed. “I meant to grab a knife,” you mumbled, walking back into the kitchen.

You walked back to the counter, returning the spatula where you found it, as he followed behind you. When you turned around, the security light in the kitchen cast a faint glow over his features.

He was a lot more handsome in person.

His dark hair was a little longer than you expected, still slightly damp from the cold night air, and it curled gently at the ends near his jaw. His features were sharp but softened by the tiredness in his eyes – eyes that were a piercing blue, almost too intense to hold eye contact with for too long. He had a faint stubble along his jaw, his jawline sharp. And, of course, there was the arm – the metal catching the low light as he leaned casually against the counter, like grabbing strangers wielding spatulas in the dark was totally normal.

But as you were taking him in, you didn’t notice he was doing the same to you.

His eyes flicked over your face, lingering on the way your long hair spilled over your shoulders, slightly tousled from where it had been tucked into your blanket. The blanket was still wrapped around you, though it had fallen open in the front, revealing an oversized sweatshirt hanging off one shoulder and a pair of shorts that barely peeked out beneath the hem. His gaze dropped briefly to your legs – long, toned, and bare – before catching sight of your feet, completely barefoot against the cool tile floor.

You didn’t say anything, too distracted by the way he was looking at you – brows slightly raised, almost curious, like he hadn’t expected you to look quite like this.

“Not exactly the warm welcome I expected,” he said, his voice a little rough, eyes finally meeting yours again.

“Well maybe you shouldn’t scare me next time,” you said, crossing your arms. “Or maybe I shouldn’t keep watching horror movies alone.”

He just chuckled as he looked down, shaking his head.

“I didn’t think you were supposed to be back until tomorrow?” you asked, leaning against the counter behind you.

“I finished earlier than I thought, decided to drive straight back instead of stopping somewhere.”

You just nodded in response, looking away awkwardly, not sure what to say now.

“Why are you up so late?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Oh, I’ve been doing my own workouts that Steve gives me in the afternoon, so I can sleep in since I don’t have to train with them in the morning.”

Bucky nodded slowly, then tilted his head. “So instead of sleeping, you decided to scare the hell out of yourself with a horror movie?”

You gave him a look. “It’s called self-care.”

He smirked, arms crossing over his chest. “Interesting definition.”

“I like the adrenaline rush,” you defended, though your voice betrayed the slight tremble from earlier. “And I was doing just fine until you showed up like some kind of horror movie final boss.”

That made him laugh – actually laugh – and you were a little stunned by how much softer he looked when he did. Like there was no way he used to be the Winter Soldier.

“You really thought someone was breaking in?” he asked, clearly still amused.

You gave him a dry look. “At 1:30 in the morning? With heavy footsteps? Yeah, I panicked.”

“And went for a spatula.”

“Okay, we’re not gonna keep bringing that up. I thought I grabbed a knife.”

He just grinned, leaning one hip against the counter. “Can’t promise that.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, but there was a smile tugging at your lips. “You’re not as scary as everyone made you sound, you know.”

“Oh, just you wait,” he said, giving you a dramatic deadpan look. “I haven’t even glared at you yet.”

You snorted. “Is that supposed to be a threat?”

“Depends. Are you gonna throw any more kitchen utensils at me?”

“Only if you sneak up on me again.”

There was a beat of silence as the banter settled, and you both just looked at each other. His expression was thoughtful, eyes roaming over your face again, more curious than anything.

“You’re different than I expected,” he said quietly.

You raised an eyebrow. “Different how?”

He shrugged, pushing off the counter and heading toward the fridge. “You’re not intimidated.”

“I waved a spatula at your face. That’s practically a dominance display.”

Bucky chuckled again, pulling open the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water. “Alright, new rule. No more horror movies alone. At least not without a real weapon nearby.”

You leaned your head back against the cabinets, giving him a playful smile. “So what, are you volunteering to be my horror movie buddy?”

He twisted the cap off the water and took a sip, eyeing you over the top of the bottle. “Only if there’s popcorn.”

You grinned, but before you could reply, he yawned – big and unfiltered, catching him off guard enough that he blinked a few times afterward and rubbed at his eyes.

“Long drive?” you asked, voice softening a little.

He nodded. “Yeah. I’ve been up for…way too many hours.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re back safe,” you said, gently pushing off the counter. “And sorry about the spatula. For real.”

“No permanent damage,” he said with a small smile, and that same curious look passed through his eyes again. “Goodnight, y/n.”

You returned the smile, a little warmer this time. “Goodnight, Bucky.”

He lingered for a second like he might say something else, but instead, he gave you a quiet nod and walked off down the hallway, water bottle in hand, metal arm catching the light one last time before disappearing around the corner.

You exhaled slowly, finally letting your shoulders drop. Then you glanced down at the spatula still sitting on the counter and shook your head.

“Welcome to the team,” you muttered to yourself, turning back toward the couch.

--

The next morning when you woke up, your stomach was growling.

You went to the bathroom and quickly ran a brush through your hair before washing your face, but you didn’t bother getting dressed before you walked to the kitchen.

As you padded into the kitchen, still in the sweatshirt and shorts from last night, all the other Avengers were in there, either eating, making breakfast, or just talking – including Bucky.

Nat was the first to notice you. “Morning, y/n.”

“Morning,” you mumbled, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. A few others smiled or nodded good morning as you made your way to the fridge, trying to decide what you wanted to eat.

Bucky stood in front of the open fridge, grabbing eggs from the carton.

“Morning, Bucky,” you said, sticking your head under his arm to look in the fridge.

Everyone else just watched silently, waiting to see what Bucky would do. They had no idea you had already met, and they knew he hated being talked to or approached in the morning, so they were a little worried.

“Morning, y/n. Want me to make you eggs too?”

You just hummed, still crouching under his arm, surveying the fruit options in the fridge. “Yeah, that sounds good,” you replied, ducking under his arm and taking a step back.

He grabbed a few more eggs as you turned around, noticing everyone staring at you two, some with their mouths hanging open.

“What?” you said, eyebrows knit together in confusion.

Sam was the first to break. “Wait, he offered to make you breakfast?”

You blinked, looking between them. “Yeah…?”

Steve narrowed his eyes at Bucky. “Since when do you cook for anyone?”

Bucky just shrugged, cracking the eggs into a pan like it was no big deal. “She threatened me with a spatula last night. It felt only fair.”

There was a beat of silence – and then a collective explosion of laughter.

“You – wait, what?” Sam leaned forward, nearly choking on his coffee. “She pulled a spatula on you?”

You felt your face go red instantly. “I thought someone was breaking in! It was dark, I panicked!”

Tony set his mug down with a dramatic shake of his head. “And this is who we’re trusting to help save the world?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “It was either a spatula or a loaf of bread, Stark. I made a call.”

Nat laughed into her coffee, clearly enjoying this way too much. “So let me get this straight – you startled her, she tried to Spatula America you, and instead of being grumpy and scary like usual, you made her breakfast?”

Bucky smirked but kept his eyes on the pan. “She had good form. Almost smacked me in the face with it.”

Clint leaned back in his chair with a grin. “Wow. And here I thought you didn’t like anyone who made eye contact before noon.”

Bruce, sitting with a smoothie, tilted his head thoughtfully. “You seem…oddly chill right now.”

Bucky glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “Maybe I like being threatened by kitchen utensils.”

That got a second round of laughter, even from Steve – who was now studying Bucky like he was trying to solve an equation.

You were still standing there, completely thrown by how casually he was acting. He wasn’t snapping, or glaring, or giving anyone his signature “don’t talk to me” vibe. He was just…cooking eggs. For you.

Tony leaned toward Nat and whispered – not quietly enough – “ten bucks says they’re secretly dating already.”

You shot him a look. “I can hear you.”

He raised both hands. “I’m just saying! This is the calmest I’ve ever seen Barnes and the first time I’ve seen you voluntarily in the kitchen before noon. Something is definitely going on.”

Bucky just shook his head, flipping the eggs effortlessly. “Maybe I’m just in a good mood.”

You looked at him, one brow raised. “Because of the spatula incident?”

He didn’t look up, but there was a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Maybe.”

You shook your head, still trying to process the fact that you had been the one to somehow get through Bucky Barnes' grumpy morning shield.

You wandered over to the kitchen island and sank down onto one of the barstools, pulling your legs up to sit cross-legged on the seat, your oversized sweatshirt sliding down one shoulder. Nat slid onto the stool next to you, still grinning, while Sam leaned his elbows on the counter across from you, like he was watching a soap opera unfold in real time.

“So,” Nat said casually, “how exactly did we get to ‘good morning’ and ‘I’ll make you eggs’ from ‘grumpy murder stare’ Barnes?”

You groaned softly. “Guys, it’s not that deep. We just…met last night. Accidentally. Kind of.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “With a spatula.”

“Okay, yes, with a spatula,” you said, laughing despite yourself. “It was dark. I was scared. Let it go.”

“You waved a pancake flipper at a trained assassin and now he’s making you breakfast,” Sam said, straight-faced. “This is a rom-com and I did not get a script.”

As you laughed and bickered with them, you didn’t notice Bucky finishing up at the stove behind you. He didn’t say anything – just quietly plated the eggs, grabbed a fork, and set the plate down in front of you on the island, right in the middle of your sentence.

You blinked, caught off guard. “Oh – thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” he said simply, then returned to the stove to make his own plate.

The room went dead silent for a split second before—

“Ohhh my god,” Sam groaned dramatically, flopping onto the counter. “He cooked for her and served it to her? He’s down bad.”

Clint pointed a spoon toward Bucky. “We’re witnessing history. This is like…the Bucky Barnes Soft Launch.”

Tony mimed typing on a phone. “Hold on, I’m live-tweeting this. ‘Winter Soldier melts down from weaponized spatula and domestic bonding.’”

You gave them all a look and muttered, “He literally just made me eggs.”

Nat leaned in close, grinning. “He served you eggs. There’s a difference.”

“I’m right here,” Bucky called without looking up, though there was a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he dished up his own food.

“And yet,” Tony said, grinning as he sipped his coffee, “you’re not denying it.”

You shot Bucky a look, and he just shrugged, bringing his plate to the other end of the island and sitting down like none of this chaos concerned him at all. But when you looked again, his gaze flicked up to meet yours, and he gave you the tiniest wink.

You looked back down at your plate, cheeks warm. Yep. You were definitely in a rom-com.

You dug into the eggs—honestly, they were really good—and the conversation drifted to something else entirely. Nat was telling a story about a disastrous undercover mission that involved a lot of goats, and you were halfway through laughing at Sam’s horrified expression when you realized your plate was gone.

You blinked down at the empty space in front of you, then looked up to see Bucky at the sink, rinsing your plate and his like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Sam noticed at the same time you did. He froze mid-sip of his orange juice, slowly lowering the glass with wide eyes. “Oh my god.”

Nat turned around in her seat, catching sight of Bucky calmly scrubbing dishes. “No. No way.”

“He’s doing her dishes,” Sam said, turning to Nat like he needed a witness. “He’s washing her plate. Voluntarily.”

You blinked. “I – he didn’t have to do that–”

“Are you two already married or just emotionally bonded for life?” Tony called from the other side of the room, tossing a grape into his mouth.

Wanda, walking into the kitchen with a bagel, stopped dead in her tracks. “What’d I miss?”

“Barnes just cleared her plate and started washing it,” Sam said like he was reporting breaking news.

Wanda raised an eyebrow. “...did she save his life or something?”

“I threatened him with a spatula,” you mumbled into your coffee.

Bucky, still facing the sink, didn’t even turn around. “You’re never gonna live that down.”

“Not if we have anything to say about it,” Nat said cheerfully.

You gave Bucky a look. “You didn’t have to clean up for me, you know.”

He glanced back over his shoulder. “I know.”

“Oh my god,” Sam groaned, dropping his head to the counter. “He knows.”

Tony pointed between the two of you like he was tracking a conspiracy. “So we’ve got: late night meeting, cooking, casual touch proximity, washing her dishes–”

“Next thing you know, he’s folding her laundry and building her a bookshelf,” Clint added.

“Okay, I draw the line at laundry,” Bucky said, finally turning around with a half-smile.

“You didn’t deny the bookshelf, though,” you teased, arching an eyebrow.

That got a low laugh out of him. “Depends. Do you have books?”

You opened your mouth, then shut it, realizing you did. Like, a lot.

Sam made a strangled noise. “Oh no. Oh no no no. This man is gone. G-O-N-E, gone.”

You couldn’t help it – you laughed, hard, burying your face in your hands.

And through it all, Bucky just leaned against the counter with his arms crossed, watching you with a quiet kind of amusement, like he didn’t even mind being the center of the chaos. In fact…he looked like he kind of liked it.

As the others continued joking and speculating about your supposed domestic takeover, you leaned your chin on your hand, watching Bucky from across the kitchen.

You weren’t sure what it was exactly – maybe the fact that you didn’t tiptoe around him like everyone else, or maybe it was just timing – but somehow, you'd slipped past a few of the walls everyone warned you about.

He caught you looking and gave you a small, knowing smile, like he could read your thoughts. You looked away quickly, but couldn’t fight the quiet little grin tugging at your lips.

You weren’t sure how you’d managed to crack through Bucky Barnes’ armor with a spatula and a pair of sleep shorts, but...maybe you wanted to find out what else you could break through.

Maybe this was just the beginning.

--

Part 2 | Masterlist

[mahi-wayy]

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐭 𝐅𝐢𝐭𝐬

pairing : soldier boy x fem!reader

summary : you're ben's sweet little lamb.

warnings : age gap ( he's 105, reader is mid 20s ) unprotected p in v ( wrap up it people! ) creampie, dirty talk mixed with praise, ben being gentle ( kind of ? ) size kink, daddy kink, !reader cries during sex, whining. NOT PROOFREAD !!

library

Ben is a big man. Standing at a six foot-one with broad shoulders and bulk of a man that comes from both compound V and his workout with you.

Compared to him you're tiny with your atleat a head shorter frame and tiny pinched waist and lean muscle that came from your actual workout.

That's why he calls you little lamb.

His sweet, soft kind little lamb with bright smiles and freaky mind and such cute sounds. He loves it how you can bring out a side he doesn't usually have around anyone, how your smaller softer hands makes him so fucking careful whenever he's around you of both his behavior and his physical force.

Which much to his own surprise carries over in bed.

"Fuck little lamb always so tight for me." He grunts, his much larger over looming over your much smaller trembling form.

Your hair a mess against the sheets, hands grasping the sheets and other clawing at his shoulder. You're always pretty to but goddammit this is favorite sight.

"Ben...Ben...too much...fuck too much..."

It's adorable how you never seem to be able take it - take him - shaking and whining and sobbing in your own words yet your body does.

Your walls all gumy and warm and soft like it was made for his cock, you always take him. It just seems to overwhelm her.

He grunts, keeping the pace steady along side her sobbing moans as he peppers kisses around her muttering how good you are, how well you're taking him when it slips your mouth.

"Daddy...please..."

It's a whimper, your voice trembling as you hold on for dear life.

His brain short circuits so quicks it would've have been funny if not for the situations because right now it has only made his hips thrust harder and faster.

"Daddy's sweet little lamb..." He groans. "Doing so good for me sweethear', taking my cock so well in this tight cunt. Fuck baby, you're prefect for me."

You whine out louder, nails racking down his shoulders and back.

"Daddy...please...slow too much..."

And fuck every time your shaking voice calls him that it goes straight to his cock. One of his muscular arms wraps around your waist, hiking you up on the mattress before his pace shifts.

Going from hard and fast to slower and deeper.

Ben doesn't usually go soft, not his style, not his taste but the sound you let out, the way your much smaller fragile body moves with each of his thrust makes it totally worth it.

"Daddy..."

The whine stretches out louder and it makes him growl his pace picking up just a bit. Fuck you're such a site under, all moans and sobs, desperately holding on either to him or the sheets. Pretty.

"I'm...I'm....daddy I'm-"

Your body practically goes on lockdown, walls clamping down on his cock, thighs trembling and nails scratching whatever expanse of his unbreakable skin they can reach as your orgasm crashes through you.

The sight of it and the way your walls squeeze him make his own orgasm wash over, his cock painting your insides white, marking his territory.

He groans letting himself fall over your exhausted petite form like oversized, overweighted blanket.

"Sweetest lamb." He mutters almost smushing his face in your breats. "You did good."

a/n : what inspired this? .....I'm 5'0. Jensen is 6'1 :)

tags : @bluemerakis @deansbeer @daylighted @soldiersgirl @h8aaz @titsout4jackles @bejeweledinterludes @littlesoulshine @mostlymarvelgirl @jmoonk @yawnzshit @bittersweetfig let me know if I forgot you or you want to be added or removed!!

[financeprincess]

Just know that the work you put into yourself will always compound and pay you back 100x. And there’s no rush to a finish line, everything is always a work in progress. I will never regret going to college, buying books, courses, classes, investing in hobbies, traveling, the gym and workout classes, high quality organic food, good healthcare, high quality clothing, taking care of my skin/hair/nails/teeth/brows/lashes/etc. because it all snowballs into the larger picture. No one can take your education from you. No one can take your fit body and healthy, glowing appearance from you. It takes real work day in and day out to have it all together. I’ve invested thousands of dollars and countless hours into myself and I would do it all again and then some. There is no easy fix and there is no get rich quick scheme. You know what you have to do, it just takes the courage to do it.

[literaryavenger]

Obsessed

Summary: Your crush on Bucky may be getting out of control.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Warnings: Dramatic Reader. Language. Angst. Fluff. My poor attempts at being Funny.

Word Count: 1.4K I'm physically incapable of making anything short.

A/N: I wrote this in like 2 hours and I don't even know what this is, just... Yeah.

Masterlist

This is terrible.

This is the worst thing that's ever happened to you.

This is the worst thing that's ever happened to anyone. It's just the most horrible, dreadful, awful thing that could’ve ever happen to yo-

“Would you stop staring at him for fuck's sakes!” Natasha's hissed words make your eyes snap to her and finally away from the metal armed Supersoldier lifting weights. Shirtless.

You don't know when Bucky stopped feeling self-conscious enough to allow him to workout in nothing but a pair of gym shorts, but it has become literal torture for you.

Needless to say, Bucky's current level of undress is making it impossible for you to concentrate on the stretching you're supposed to be doing before your sparring match with Natasha.

But your very thoughtful and not at all exasperated friend makes sure to keep your attention on her during the entirety of our match by thoroughly kicking your ass.

What a lovely best friend you have.

Anyways.

Your entire mood shifts with one not intentionally overheard conversation. Steve enters the gym and goes straight to Bucky, who was putting his weight set down.

“She’s here!” Is all the blonde says to his friend and your heart stops at the way Bucky’s face lights up with a smile, not needing any more information before following Steve out of the gym.

She’s here? Who the fuck is she? Does Bucky have a girlfriend? And most importantly, she’s here? In the Compound?

Natasha can almost see the gears turning in your brain as you make no attempts to move from the mat after she knocked you on your ass for the hundredth time today. You didn’t even seem to notice her hand offering you help to get up, your eyes still looking where Bucky was just a moment ago, staring at nothing in particular while your brain drowns in your overthinking.

Natasha sighs and decides to end the match here, kneeling down in front of you and placing her hands on your shoulders, shaking you gently to snap you out of it.

“Don’t overthink this.” She tells you when she’s sure she has your attention. “It’s probably just a friend visiting.” She tries to comfort you, but you both know that’s highly unlikely. 

Bucky has no other friends outside the team. He doesn’t know how to talk to civilians anymore after everything he’s been through, and gave up trying to after the hundredth time he saw fear in a person’s eyes just by recognizing him. So his friend circle now includes the team and the agents of SHIELD that are not intimidated by him. Point is, every friend he has already lives in the Compound.

So who the fuck is here just to see him? 

Natasha can see that this is a lost battle, your eyes barely concentrating on her as you start drowning in your mind again. All she can do when you’re like this is try to distract you and keep you out of your head. So she takes your hand and helps you up, leading the way to the common room to watch one of your beloved romcoms together, because that’s how much she loves you.

Big mistake.

“Y/N! Y/N!” The excited high-pitched voice came just seconds after you set foot in the common room. And that’s about the only warning you got before the excited 5-year-old jumped on you, your reflexes thankfully quick enough to catch her.

“Hi, Maguna!” You say while chuckling as the little girl hugs you. “You seem excited today. Did you get into the sugar cabinet again?”

Morgan giggles at your joke and shakes her hand before taking your face in her little hands and dramatically saying, “No! A princess came to visit uncle Bucky! A real princess.”

You frown, confused at what she’s talking about, before you look around the room and finally notice everyone else in it. Pepper and Tony are on the couch, looking at you lovingly as you interact with their daughter.

You love Morgan, she’s like a little sister. You never miss an opportunity to babysit her and you spend as much time with her as you can. She also loves you, out of all the Avengers you’re her favorite, much to everyone’s dismay. She calls them all ‘aunt’ and ‘uncle’, but you’re just Y/N. You’re her big sister, you don’t need a title. Which is why you're the only one other than Tony allowed to call her 'Maguna'.

Then you notice the other people in the room: Steve, Bucky and… Shuri. The fucking Princess of Wakanda, standing in the common room of the Avengers Compound and just smiling at you as you carry Morgan.

You’ve never met Shuri, but you know she played an important part in deprogramming the Winter Soldier out of Bucky, and you’re grateful to her for it. She’s important to Bucky, and you can’t believe you forgot Bucky has Wakandan friends.

You put Morgan down on the ground again and the little girl takes your hand and aggressively steers you towards where Steve, Bucky and Shuri are standing, clearly thrilled to be in the presence of a real life princess.

“Hi, I’m Shuri.” She offers you her hand when you get close enough and you shake it with your free hand while introducing yourself.

There’s a bit of an awkward pause and you’re about to say the first thing that pops into your head when Morgan thankfully saves you by pulling on your hand, making you look at her. She tells you to come close and, chuckling, you kneel beside her so she can whisper conspiratorially in your ear.

“She’s a princess and she’s really pretty, but I still like you better.” She whispers and you can’t help but laugh.

God, you love this little girl.

You smile brightly at her and launch a tickle attack, her adorable giggles filling the room as everyone looks at you two with warm smiles.

Your attention is solely on Morgan, until you unintentionally hear the whispered conversation between Shuri and Bucky.

“So, this is the girl, huh? She’s pretty.” Shuri says and your heart skips a beat. 

You glance at them as discreetly as you can while still tickling Morgan, only to find Bucky looking at someone behind you. You turn around less carefully and see Sharon just entered the room, and she's also looking at Bucky with a smirk. You quickly return your attention to Morgan, but your mind is going a thousand miles a minute.

Of course he’d like someone more like Sharon. She’s pretty, she’s talented, she’s a total badass and she’s not afraid to go after what she wants.

She’s not a mass of anxiety in the shape of a woman that overthinks everything and becomes a flustered mess every time she’s even near Bucky.

It’s time to admit it to yourself: Bucky just doesn’t see you like that and you need to move on. 

Natasha is right, your obsession with Bucky needs to end.

What you don’t see is Bucky almost glaring at Sharon because he knows damn well why she’s smirking. She came in just before Shuri whispered to Bucky, when he was very intent on looking at you with heart eyes as you played with Morgan.

Just before you looked at him, Bucky noticed Sharon and he had to hold in a groan at her because he knows that she’s never gonna let him live this down.

Both Sharon and Steve have tried really hard to convince Bucky that you like him back and he should make a move on you. But Bucky, being as stubborn as they come, never believes them.

He obviously makes you uncomfortable, you’re always stuttering when he’s around and you avoid eye contact whenever possible. He’s just glad that you can stand his presence enough for the two of you to work together when necessary and to hang out with the rest of the team without problems.

So he just enjoys looking at you from a distance. He loves watching you play with Morgan and his thoughts always run wild with images of you playing like that with kids that are yours and his.

But he knows that’s never going to happen. Why would you like a damaged, PTSD ridden soldier that can’t even make it through the night without waking up from a nightmare? No, that’s definitely not your type.

Bucky accepts the truth: He doesn’t deserve you and you don’t see him like that anyways. 

It doesn’t matter that Sam thinks he’s obsessed, that won’t stop him from looking at you whenever he’s lucky enough to get a glimpse of his little ray of sunshine.

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[hopelesslygaysstuff]

Ya'll please consider emo!Wanda with nipple piercings!!!

You first see them when she doesn't wear a bra around the compound on a lazy Sunday, the metal bars just barely showing through the fabric of her t-shirt. Natasha shoots you a smirk when you nearly trip, stuttering when Wanda asks if you're alright. You punch her in the shoulder. Then spend the rest of the morning running from an irate spy.

You see them next in the locker room of the compound, having just finished your workout. Wanda walks in from showering, her hair still slightly damp and her piercings showing through her tight sports bra. She starts talking with you, and you pray that she doesn't notice how your eyes keep trying to drift down to her chest.

(She does, and she's very pleased that her plan is working)

The third time you see them is when she corners you in her bedroom after watching a movie with her. You'd started cuddling, in a completely platonic way, of course. Wanda had shown you plenty of her favorite sitcoms, and you'd started sharing your favorite movies with her in return. She'd finally snapped after your hand had been 'innocently' rubbing her thigh for the better part of an hour, pressing you against the headboard of her bed and sitting in your lap. You were beet red, your lips parted and eyes wide as she pulled her shirt off in one smooth motion.

"I've noticed how much you like my piercings," she says, smirking at you with dark eyes. You feebly nod, and she guides one of her nipple towards your lips.

God, if you thought the sight of them was appealing, the taste of her nipples and the metal rod rolling around on your tongue had you in absolute shambles. You tease her for hours, your hands and lips constantly touching her poor nipples, until she cums from the overwhelming stimulation.

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like??? GOD she's so hot omg i want emo!Wanda with nipple piercings NWEOW good LAWD i need her carnally