#captain america shield pillow

[nerdycreationsstudio]

Here’s a look at a Captain America pillow I made recently! If you’re interested in it or a different custom pillow, check out my Etsy store NerdyCreationsStudio!

[georgiapeach30513]

Steve Rogers x me 🙋‍♀️ number 32 or 50 please

Oh!! I love this one so much, but...just don't hate me with this.

There Goes My Life

Summary: just one last time

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, PIV sex, a smidge of dirty talk, creampie, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 1.2K

Series Masterlist

He sighs as his blue eyes peer at your sleeping form. You never listened. It was too easy for him to get in through your window, and just gaze at you while you sleep. He warned you that there was a target on your back. Especially the moment you left SHIELD. It just didn’t seem right anymore. Not without Steve, and not knowing what you now know.

You look peaceful, which is more than what he can say for himself. Your windows seem smaller now, or maybe it was just because he felt he could never get too close to you. The picture of the two of you still sits beside your bed, and he feels an ache in his chest as you cling to his pillow. By now his scent would have worn off considering how you had your face buried into it.

“Cap, you have a short window. I’ll buy you some more time. Enjoy your girl.”

“Thanks, Sam,” he whispers, leaning over to remove his boots. If he didn’t have this need to hold you and enjoy you while he could, he would tell you how stupid it was to leave your window unlocked. But he also knew why.

You are also painfully aware that Steve had someone watch your place. Everything changed in such a short time. You didn’t think he would be coming back, much less as often as he did.

Removing his suit, he lets the mess of what was Captain America drift into your floor. Fully naked, and for a reason, he lifts the blanket on his side, and slides in. His eyes rake over your beautiful sleeping face. There wasn’t enough time for him to just watch you, but he did it all the same. He missed you so much it hurt. So much that he couldn’t even focus on the task at hand because he was waiting on you to tell him what to do. But this isn’t SHIELD, and you no longer were in his ear.

Your full lashes flutter with his warm breath. Your body sidles up to his even more. He’s so proud of you, even in your sleep you knew it was him. He reaches to pull the pillow from your grasp, wanting you to use him instead when your sleepy eyes blink away the clouds from your vision.

“Steve?”

“Shh,” he whispers, his nose pressing up against yours. Every moment with him is bittersweet because you know he’ll be off somewhere else before you wake up again. Leaving you feeling like everything was only a figment of your imagination.

Your lashes flutter close as you absorb his warmth. His breath. And when his lips press against your trembling ones. “Sugar,” he pleads, but you don’t want to waste time. Each time he visited you felt like it would be the last time, and that killed you inside. “Stop.”

“Steve, just take me. Make me forget that you won’t be here in the morning.”

“You make me feel like the biggest asshole.”

“Language, Captain,” he chuckles on your lips. Hoisting his body to hover over yours. His legs positioned in between your own, and he slides his apart as he sinks lower over you. His silky steel cock, lays over your bare mound, and you shutter at the feeling.

“I really hate that you were privy to that moment.”

“Why’s that?” You tease as he grips his length in one hand and runs it through your slick.

“Because every time I growl out filth in your ears, I want them to be your words only. Because even though you hold your head up high, and you look so regal walking into SHIELD, you’re my dirty little slut.”

“Your dirty little slut wishes that you would just fuck her…ahh,” you gulp as his thick veiny member plunges into your depths. Fully sheathing himself into your wet heat, and his weight settles on yours. It is the best kind of smothering. “Tell me you love me.”

“I love you so much,” he grunts as his hips piston in and out of your walls. Pushing and pulling into every bit of you. Molding the two of you together again, and you hope that this was the normal. That you didn’t have to wait months until you got to feel him again. That this was a bad dream, and Steve wasn’t an enemy of the country.

You focus on the way his body cages around yours and how the two of you had so many beautiful plans. Feel only the way his thicker body made you feel so small. The tickle of his beard as he nips along your neck. You swear every part of him got thicker. And it made you more needy for him.

You took every bit of his hard and deep thrusts because your body was made for him. Nobody pulled out the sounds from your lips. There was nobody else you trusted the way you trusted him. In a different world you and Steve would have already been married, and have a baby on the way. He would have given up this fight with the Avengers just to live a normal life.

But those dreams weren’t reality. Now it was a dream that the man you love was becoming so feral with the limited time he had with you. His hands slam on the headboard above you, and his hips stab into you with so much force you start to see stars. This is how he always ended things. He wanted to make sure you almost passed out with pleasure and pressure.

His thrusts make the picture frames rattle on the walls. Your hands cling to his wide hips as you feel yourself start to go blank. Damn this beautiful man. He couldn’t even bear to say goodbye. The solution was to fuck you stupid. Fuck him.

You try and hold on. See the image of Steve gritting his teeth as he forces his orgasm away. Waiting on you to succumb to your exhaustion. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as your walls clench down tight around his cock, and he gets a few more ruts into you before ribbons of hot thick cum fill your belly up.

He stutters his movement as he watches your head lull to the side, and he hates himself for doing this. Hates having to be so careful. There is nothing he wants more than to bask in your silky walls all day. He pulls himself out of you, and smiles when you sleepily whimper at the loss of him.

Giving himself just a moment to stare at your gaping cunt leaking of him. “Captain, it’s time. We gotta be careful.”

He leaves you laying there, but covers you back up. Leaving behind the scent of him on your sheets, and the regret that things aren’t different. This had to be the last time. He was putting you into too much danger. Slowly he’d call the eye from watching you. He’d let you go because that’s how much he loved you.

“I’m always careful,” he says, slipping back into his suit.

But this time — he wasn’t…..

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @floral-recs @pandaxnienke @harrysthiccthighss @donutloverxo @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @bambamwolf87

[lavykitty]

Bunny Play Time

Bunny gets into an accident in the SHIELD labs. Steve ends up seeing her tattoo and he decides he must properly thank her for entertaining him every night.

You were working on a new weapon. It was a small flame thrower that packed a serious punch. You were making progress but you accidentally set it off while you were working.

You cough as smoke fills the air. Your lab coat sleeve has been seared off and your skin feels hot. You don’t have any burns, but your soothes are ruined.

You decide to leave and clean up, heading up to the avengers kitchen area so you can use their washing machine. You take off your lab coat and take notice of the damage. Your lab coat is completely destroyed so there’s no use in keeping it. You pitch it in the trash and turn to leave.

You accidentally run into a tall build. Your eyes slowly look up and you see Captain America smirking down at you.

“What happened sunshine?”

You huff, a little embarrassed. “Accident in the lab. I completely ruined my lab coat.”

You pout causing him to laugh a little. Then his eyes drift down your frame and rest on your arm. His eyes go wide, but you don’t know what for.

He clears his throat, “I like your tattoos.”

You smile at him, “thanks”

You see Steve debate whether he should do something, and before he can decide against it he smirks: “you know, I really enjoy your videos”

You look confused but when realization hits you, you turn red. You try to deny it but Steve is staring at you with a huge amount of lust.

“You watch my videos?” you ask meekly.

Steve nods, and he smirks. “You’re very entertaining”

He gets closer to you and whispers in your ear, “I’ve got to say you’re my favorite, Bunny”

Your face starts to flush, but the embarrassment of getting caught turns you on. Especially when it’s Steve. He notices this and takes another step closer to you, causing his body to press into yours.

“How about I help you, with your next video?” He smirks down at you as he slowly bites his lip.

You giggle a little but nod, “you want to be a cam boy?”

Steve chuckles, “well if it means your my cam girl”

Steve stands in front of you wearing only his boxers. His boner straining against the fabric, making your mouth water. You are wearing your bunny buttplug and bunny ears as you look up at him.

Your eyes are filled with lusts as you crawl towards him. Your ass on full display for the web cam set up on the desk. Your tail poking out of your round cheeks. Steve’s cock twitches in excitement when he sees you moving towards him on all fours.

With your teeth you start to take off his boxers causing his cock to spring free. Steve’s tip is red and swollen, already leaking precum. With soft licks you start to take him in your mouth.

Steve throws his head back in pleasure as you suck his tip. Your pretty lips looking plump and pouty around his cock. His hands find their way into your hair as he pulls your face closer.

Your nose brushes against his pubic bone, his cock tickling the back of your throat. You start to gag around him as you suck. The wet sounds filling the room.

The camera has a full view of you with his cock in your mouth. Your hand goes up to caress his balls, making him shiver. He moans as you take him deeper in your throat.

Steve feels his high coming, resulting in him pulling out. He pushes your head down into the pillow and starts to stroke himself.

Your ass is up and in view of the camera. Steve spreads your ass cheeks wide, allowing the camera to see your butt plug and nude pussy. He swipes his dick a few times in your folds earning a moan.

He slowly pushes in making you scream out in pleasure. He starts to thrust his hips. His thrusts cause you to moan as your insides are pounded into. His cock hitting deep inside.

Steve continues to fuck you, and then the pleasure starts to build. Steve’s hand goes down to your ass and squeezes it. Instead of going back to your hips, his fingers go to your butt plug. He teases it gently, pushing and pulling it. You start to whimper when he takes it out. Leaving your gapping hole exposed.

Steve’s finger starts to circle your asshole, stretching it open. The mix of pleasure causing you to reach your high.

Steve just smirks at this, but he’s still hard. He pulls out of your wet pussy and takes the camera in his hand. He positions it and starts to jerk himself off. He releases, cumming all over your gapping asshole. Steve sensually pushes some of his cum inside your hole, before taking the butt plug and plugging you up again.

He gives your ass a kiss before ending the video. “Something tells me that’ll be a good one”

[eva-knits12]

More CE characters as dads

Pete Brenner

Pete loves being a dad.

You both wake up before Zoe.

Every day, you bring lunch and Zoe to the office.

Pete gets to spend every afternoon with his daughter.

Pete is very protective of you and Zoe.

"She's not dating until she's 30!"

Pete loves watching Zoe dance.

He watches Bluey with her.

Pete loves cooking for both you and Zoe.

He finds cooking to be very relaxing.

He loves making ribs and chicken bites.

He loves making soups, chili, and even tacos and fajitas.

Movie nights involve Disney films, and even stuff that you and Pete will watch after you put Zoe to bed.

Pete loves reading to Zoe.

Family days are often spent at the library, the bookstore, picnics in the park, apple and pumpkin picking in the fall, and decorating the Christmas tree in the winter.

Halloween involves you staying back to pass out candy, but Pete and Zoe often go trick or treating.

Pete will have some decaf coffee, while he pulls Zoe in her wagon or even walk her in her stroller.

Zoe gets tons of candy.

Pete is an amazing dad.

When you were pregnant with Zoe, Pete was a doting partner.

Foot rub and back rubs were a must!

Pete wouldn't let you carry anything, walk without assistance, or do anything without assistance.

Pete takes Zoe and you out on a nice, casual family night.

Pizza is a must with Zoe.

You and Pete often get Mexican food or even Chinese.

Pete wouldn't trade this for the world.

You and Zoe are his world.

Zoe eventually gets a sibling! She gets a sister!

Now, Pete has three favorite girls!

Cole Turner

Cole is a doting partner.

He's more nervous and anxious than you are.

You have to push the twins out!

Every day, Cole goes through the hospital bag.

He prepares for each scenario, including needing to give birth before you guys get to the hospital.

You actually give birth to the twins-when Cole is rushing you to the hospital!

You give birth to the twins in the back of the car!

Lucas is born first, then Dawn is born.

Cole called an ambulance, but the twins were coming, whether you wanted them to come out or not.

Luckily, Cole has seen this quite often on the farm, so he immediately sprung into action.

He knew how to check to see how far you were dilating, and you were at ten centimeters before you got the hospital, and your contractions got to two minutes apart, Cole removed your pants and your panties, and told you to start pushing!

Yep, you're one of the few wives who can say that her husband delivered her babies. He didn't help deliver them, Cole actually delivered them.

The ambulance arrives, and you were taken to the hospital, with Cole following.

Who knew that the same place where you got a flat tire, wound wind up being the same place where you gave birth to Lucas and Dawn?

Cole teaches Lucas and Dawn about plants and animals.

He reads to them, because Cole is an avid reader.

At the end of the day, Cole cooks for you.

Hot sandwiches with mashed potatoes and gravy, meatloaf, burgers, sausages, pork chops, baked chicken, fried chicken, Cole cooks it.

Cole finds cooking helps him relax, and it helps with his anxiety.

Movie nights with Cole involve popcorn, pillows, cuddling, and foot rubs.

Cole loves giving you a foot rub at the end of a long day of teaching.

For your birthday, anniversary, even a date night, Cole always remembers your favorite flowers and chocolates.

Cole loves making the baby food-he insisted that the baby food be homemade by him using vegetables from the garden and that it's organic and low in sugar-and giving Lucas and Dawn their bottles.

When Lucas and Dawn are older, they have a little outfit they wear when they are helping daddy on the farm. It involves a bucket hat, jeans, and a cute denim over shirt for Lucas, and cute overalls, a cute sun hat, and cute rubber boots for Dawn. Lucas has his own pair of rubber boots with the Captain America shield on it.

Lucas and Dawn follow Cole with their cute, plastic watering cans, pails, and shovels.

They even have baskets to pick the veggies.

Date nights are the best!

It involves the theatre, the movies, the beach, even the museum.

Cole wouldn't trade this for the world.

Ari Levinson

Ari is an amazing husband.

You have your kids later than most couples.

You were diagnosed with cervical cancer during your first year of marriage.

Ari was with you the entire time.

He would fuss over you.

You could only keep down pancakes and chicken broth when you were undergoing chemo.

When you found out were pregnant, Ari wouldn't let you lift anything, carry anything, or do anything.

You could go on walks.

You give birth to Zachary Andrew and Elijah Matthew.

A few years later, you give birth to Lillian Eve.

Ari loves taking you on date nights.

Family movie nights involve watching a movie that both boys pick out without arguing.

Popcorn is a must.

So is dollar store candy.

You and Ari often cook together.

Gyros are a family favorite.

(I love gyros, and they're popular around here. I like lots of Tzatziki sauce on mine.)

Ari will often a make a Greek salad to have on the side.

Ari loves making breakfast.

Ari and you often enjoy some coffee when you can actually have some peace, and that's after you put Lillian down for a nap.

Ari works from home, since he's runs an online import business.

He used to run a resort at one point.

He was even a high school geography teacher.

But, he quit those to run an online import business.

You work as a medical coder, and work from home.

You and Ari both have a shared office.

It works out, because you are both home with the twins and the baby.

Date nights are amazing.

It can involve an escape room, watching the sunset, going to open mic night, an evening picnic, even seeing a movie in the theatre.

Ari and you get the kids and Ari gets Lillian to sleep.

He puts the covers over you, and kisses your cheek just as you go to sleep.

[abarbaricyalp]

If Only In My Dreams

It's not Christmas anymore. To be fair, I had this dream on the 27th anyway Some SarahBucky Christmas chaos You can find this fic on AO3 here

It was well past two in the morning, but Sarah was nowhere near sleep. She could feel exhaustion swirling at the edges of her subconscious, but adrenaline, fear, and a fair bit of anger was keeping it at bay. It was Christmas Eve (Christmas Day now?), and instead of being at home, putting out her mama’s reindeer food with the boys and wrapping last minute gifts, they were all sequestered to the new Avengers Headquarters in DC. The building wasn’t even finished yet–there were no other heroes here–but the threat against Sam “and his family” was severe enough to land them here.

She was pretty certain the boys hadn’t realized how serious this was yet. Sam had the same voice their mama did when it came to pretending that things were fine when they were not. Sarah hadn’t inherited it. She developed her own as a parent, and she was sure the boys were slowly beginning to pick up on it the longer she used it. But they didn’t recognize Sam’s, so they believed him when he called this a ‘fun sleepover’ and a ‘secret mission’ instead. But Sarah had heard it. It had sent her heart roiling against her ribs and it hadn’t stopped since she’d answered the phone.

She hated this building. It was so industrial. There were few windows. By design, she supposed. The living quarters were small and bland. There were no colors, no soft spaces. Someone had put two beds into the same room for the boys to use. Someone–Sam or Bucky probably–had thought to grab their blankets and pillows from their rooms at home, but there were no other comforts for them.

Not that they seemed to notice. Someone–again, Sam or Bucky–had converted a meeting room into a movie theater with every other set of bedding in the compound, she thought, laid out on the floor to make a huge movie pit. They’d had full run of the place for the last few days and had charmed all of the extra security that had been assigned to Sam for this threat.

Sam stayed near her and Bucky stayed near the boys, which meant they were all usually in the same room. For the boys, she imagined this did feel almost completely right. All the important people were around them. They were baking and watching movies and concocting ridiculous games with indecipherable rules. 

Sarah, though, knew that tomorrow there’d be no presents, no tree, no reindeer prints on the front porch. The stockings were left over the fireplace, along with the CDs that always played all morning. There’d be no Christmas service and no community party afterwards. She knew it was ridiculous to worry about things like that when there was real danger, but it was Christmas. The boys deserved those things.

Behind her, someone pointedly knocked their knuckles on the doorframe and then came into the kitchen. Sarah looked up from the sugar cookie she was decorating and found Barnes making his way along the perimeter of the space, clearly counting cabinets as he went. He was barely dressed down for bed, in a t-shirt and athletic shorts, rather than the half-done gear he’d been wearing during the day. She imagined he only wasn’t fully done up because he was entertaining the boys, rather than standing sentinel. Still, he looked terribly real like this. It brought some of the comfort of home to this sterile place. She’d woken many mornings to find him halfway through cooking breakfast in an outfit very similar to this. Usually he was barefoot at home, but the even the sneakers he wore now weren’t his typical ready-to-go-boots. 

He finally stopped in front of a cabinet and opened it to reveal rows of blank white mugs. He took down one of a handful that didn’t match–a huge blue thing with the Captain America shield on it–and then set about getting an electric kettle going and tearing open a hot chocolate packet.

“Sam said you were practically nocturnal, but I didn’t believe him ‘cause you sleep like the dead at my house,” Sarah greeted as she went back to the cookie she was decorating.

Bucky snorted. “Sam only says that ‘cause I’m better at napping than him. Sorry to bother you. I didn’t know you were up too. I mean, I thought you might be when the door was open but…”

The kettle turned on and Bucky came to sit in the chair next to the one Sarah was sitting in at the head of the table. In front of her, four pans of sugar cookies sat with various degrees of decorating completion done on them. Most of them were simple. Stars and trees and stockings. But Sarah had created royal icing and found, of all things, a piping set. The decorations were elaborate and lovely. Also kind of boring to do over and over again. She kept jumping to the next shape to keep her mind and hands occupied.

“These are like the videos Sam’s always watching online. This is great. I didn’t know you could do this,” Bucky complimented. He reached out for a Santa hat and traced the seams of the icing colors.

“My college roommate was a baker,” Sarah explained. She’d had to take a deep breath, center herself back to someone pleasant and accommodating, rather than scared and scatterbrained and feeling particularly solitary. Bucky, of all people, would understand, but Sarah still wouldn’t take the risk, wouldn’t put all of that one the man trying to keep them safe. “I spent a lot of time helping her decorate. She’s got a whole confectionary shop in New Orleans now. It’s amazing. The best beignets I’ve ever had.”

“Yeah, Sam said you knew what you were talking about when it came to sweets. I couldn’t just bake my way out of the doghouse.”

Sarah chuckled softly. “Now I can say, Sam only said that ‘cause you can absolutely bake your way out of his doghouse. Boy’s got about 32 sweet tooths.”

“Yeah, I noticed that in his coffee order,” Bucky agreed. He fell quiet again, watching her studiously.

Barnes was something else. From what she’d seen of him, there was nothing to complain about. He was helpful and kind, fiercely loyal and protective. The boys, Sam included, had taken a shine to him that probably would never tarnish. He was handsome and charming in a way that made her stomach get kind of swoopy sometimes like it hadn’t in a while. And she wasn’t blind. She had seen him trip over all his suaveness in an attempt to impress her too. She’d seen him blush when she caught him staring. And she caught him quite a lot. His stare was easy to feel on her.

At the same time, she knew about his history. Sam had told her quite a bit and then Bucky had sat her down as well, before he’d moved to Louisiana himself. The conversation had taken days as he recounted terrible things that he’d done and that had been done to him. She’d read what she could, tried to remember all those news stories from 2014, but she’d mostly been so angry and worried about Sam at the time that she hadn’t paid much attention to the other actors in the whole spectacle.

She tried to find the threads connecting that man to the one beside her now. It was something she did often. But they were expertly tucked into seams and embroidered over. No more puppet strings. No more leashes. Just the foundation strands he’d built upon.

“I’m sorry about all this,” he said suddenly.

Sarah glanced up at him from where she was dotting lights onto a tree. “Did you call in the threat?” she humored.

Bucky ducked his head and then shook it. “Nah, I just mean taking you away from home and all. These things happen all the time.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

Bucky blushed deeply. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean…I don’t want you to worry. You’re safe here. We’ll get this taken care of.”

“I know,” she said and let her own doubt into her voice. She finished the lights on the cookie and then looked at him again. “Why are you here? Why aren’t you part of the team trynna find the guy threatening Sam?”

Bucky looked surprised for a moment. “Sam wanted me here. He gets antsy when I have the chance to make a bad decision. There was this woman a few weeks ago who–” He clicked his teeth together with an audible snap and glanced at her apologetically, though he hadn’t gotten to the bad part yet. “Uh, well, anyway. I just don’t like people messing with him. Or any of you guys. And with the kids and you here, we thought it was best if we both stayed.” He was quiet for another second and then added, “I am helping. Going through the data. Directing teams.”

“Strike Team Winter Soldier?” Sarah teased softly.

“Ha! That would be a great name for a team. You’re a natural at this. Let me see about getting you a job with us.” He smiled his dazzling smile and Sarah had to look back to the cookies she was decorating.

It was different than the way the butcher down on Main would wink at her as he air-boxed with Cass and complimented her outfit, no matter how messy she was. Different than Carlos’ shameless flirting when he wanted some free fish. Something about the way Bucky smiled at her, like the way he looked at her, warmed her straight down to the soul. There was no pretense, no hiding, no airs.

Which was to say nothing of the way he hugged her too. The world could stop spinning during those hugs.

Even just his presence in this ridiculous cutting-edge, bland, silver kitchen had warmed the space more than the oven running for hours as she baked.

Just for now, she was going to put away the fear and anger and worry. She was going to set aside all the things they weren’t getting this year. She wasn’t going to think about her house and its lights and the tree in the window. She was just going to enjoy a few minutes with a handsome man who liked her so blatantly it made her go lightheaded.

“Nah, I couldn’t work with you,” she said flippantly, even as her stomach somersaulted. “You’d be too distracting.”

“Oh, would I?” Bucky asked and raised an eyebrow. He scooted his chair closer in some slick move that meant his hands never left the table as he moved them closer to hers. His long fingers trailed over hers until he could coax the icing bag from her grip, and then he pressed her open palm to his, held his other hand over hers. “How could I possibly be that distracting?”

Sarah turned her hand over between his and traced the inside of his wrist. His metal hand was beneath hers, so his pulse fluttered against her touch now. Nothing, other than a hitch in the base of his neck, gave away the tripping of his pulse. He kept his face smooth and amused and endeared.

“Well, take tonight for example,” she said. He hummed encouragingly. “I was here, working away, and you showed up and literally took things out of my hands.”

“Oh, well, in that case,” he apologized dramatically and made as if he was going to get up.

Sarah curled her fingers around his wrist to keep him still. His pulse jumped again as he settled back into the seat. “And I think you’d be very serious at work.” He tilted his head at her. “So I might spend a lot of time trying to make you smile.”

A small, shy smile came out then, like it was summoned. “And why would you do that?”

“I like your smile,” she admitted. “I think you should do it more often.”

“Even at work?” Bucky asked. “That’s hardly fair, Ms. Wilson. I like your smile too but I don’t think you do it at work very often either.”

“Well, maybe you’d need to figure out how to make me smile too,” she suggested.

“So we’d both be distracted.”

Sarah inclined her head now. “Maybe we would. So it would be a terrible idea for me to work with you.”

Bucky’s pulse, which had leveled out at a steady gallop, surged beneath her fingers. “I don’t mind being distracted. Not if it’s you distracting me.”

Of all the corny lines Sarah had ever heard, there was something about the sincerity in Barnes’ voice that made that one one of the best. “Maybe I don’t like being distracted.”

“It wouldn’t actually be a problem,” Bucky promised. “See, if you’re worried that you’ll be too busy thinking about how to make me smile, all you gotta do is come into my eyesight. I’ll smile right away for you.”

“Well, now,” Sarah said, refusing to let all of the emotions trying to make her lovesick win out, “that makes its own problem.”

“Oh, what is it now?” Bucky moaned dramatically.

Sarah stifled a laugh against her shoulder. She pressed the pads of her fingers closer to his skin, traced along the pale blue vein on his forearm to his elbow. He moved closer like she was reeling him in. “If you smiled too much around me, then I’d want you to do something else too.”

“Yeah?” Bucky asked. “Name it. I’ll do it. Anything to keep you distraction free.”

“No, this would be a pretty big distraction,” she said. Bucky, several steps ahead of her, was also swaying in towards her. She took another moment to enjoy the warmth of his arm before she pulled away entirely, leaning back in her chair and bringing her hand with her. Bucky deflated as soon as she wasn’t touching him. “So I wouldn't be able to work with you.”

Even pouting, he still looked smitten. “Ma’am, you were just the distracting one.”

Sarah laughed and shook her head. “Another reason to keep us apart during the work day. Case-in-point, your kettle’s been done for at least five minutes.”

Bucky startled a little, glancing over his shoulder at the electrical kettle, which had switched to its ‘warm’ setting and was condensating on the inside. “You want some chocolate?” he asked as he stood.

Because she was still not thinking about how terrible these few days were, she said yes and pointed to a Wilson Family Seafood mug in the cupboard. He made the hot chocolates in record time and came to sit knee-to-knee with her again.

“How did you possibly extricate yourself from the cuddle puddle the boys had you in?” she asked as she waited for her drink to cool down.

“Have I mentioned I’m an expert spy?” Bucky asked with a teasing grin. “I can get outta most places without being noticed.”

“Nah, I saw the way AJ was clinging onto your arm. I’m surprised you didn’t just take it off and leave him with it.”

Bucky laughed with his head thrown back. Sarah’s whole core warmed, from her stomach to her chest. “Now, why can’t I ever think of doing something like that?”

“Work smarter not harder, Barnes.”

Bucky grinned and drank his hot chocolate because apparently being a super soldier gave him super heat resistance. “Well, I have to admit, I didn’t come straight out here,” he confessed. “There were a few things I wanted to do first. Could I show you? It’s just in the common room.”

Sarah couldn’t imagine anything that Bucky had needed to do in the common room would have any bearing on her, except maybe if he’d actually fixed the TV so the boys didn’t have full control of the one working one in the compound. But she picked up the mug of hot chocolate and followed after him.

The common room was bathed in a warm light from the one lamp in the corner. The overhead fluorescents were off. And there Christmas lights tacked up to the wall. It transformed the entire space from something cold and foreign to a warm welcome. Beneath the lights, there were a pile of gifts.

“Are those…” Sarah started to ask, though she knew the answer. She knew what wrapping paper she’d bought for this year. She knew the sizes of the boxes.

Bucky shifted a little nervously next to her. “Yeah. When I went back to secure the house, I found them. I figured you’d want them.”

The stack looked more like a mirage, a dream, than something real. She kept expecting them to disappear when she blinked. Suddenly, all the roiling emotions that had kept her company for the past several days turned over onto their heads. She was almost so happy and grateful that it was starting to circle back around to tears.

“I, uh, had to wrap a few. I’m really not any good at it. But hopefully the kids won’t even notice,” he continued to explain in embarrassed little starts and stops when she didn’t immediately respond. “You shoulda seen the guys making fun of me on the ride back. Taped my thumb down at one point.”

Sarah reached for his hand quickly, curled her fingers around his and tugged him close to hug him tightly. “You did this for them?”

Bucky didn’t hesitate to hug her back. He held her tighter when she started to shake with emotion and rubbed her back in soothing, grounding motions. His cheek rested on the crown of her head. “Of course I did. For you too, Sarah. You’ve gotta know it was for you too.”

She pressed her face to his neck and collarbone, took in a deep breath of his clean, sharp smell beneath generic laundry detergent.  “Thank you,” she breathed and squeezed her eyes shut.

“You don’t gotta thank me for anything. This is still part of the apology. You should be at home. I just wanted to bring a little bit of home back for you.”

Sarah was still too overcome to say anything, so she just held him tighter. It wasn’t until his palm found its way to her cheek that she finally lifted her face to look at him again. In the dim lights, his blue eyes were practically sparkling, like he was some kind of Christmas card come to life.

“Hey, I got you something too. Figured it’s already Christmas, right?” He pulled a light colored jewelry box from the coffee table beside them and offered it to her. “I don’t know what makes this artisan jewelry, but I’m pretty sure these are the charms you wanted.”

The necklace had a sunflower and a butterfly charm hung on it, with a dainty stone bead between them. They were, in fact, two of the charms that she’d mentioned passingly when the catalog had come in the mail months ago. There was also a ring in the box with three hearts–one big and two little–tumbling across the band.

“Bucky,” she started to say, looking up at him. “This is–”

His hand was on her cheek again–he really did have the longest fingers she’d ever seen–and suddenly they were falling together. She’d never have really thought about the scant inches of difference between her and Bucky’s height, but now, as he dipped his face towards hers and she felt the girlish need to tiptoe up, it was all she could think about.

Bucky was as good at kissing as he was at hugging. His mouth was softer than she had imagined it would be. Not that she did a lot of imagining about Bucky’s mouth, of course. He also leaned into her like he wanted to become the thing that kept her upright, held her face preciously, swooped his thumb over her cheekbone. It all made her lightheaded. She had to place her hands on his chest to stay standing. Otherwise she might just pitch right into him and melt between his ribs.

Somehow, a stuttered breath escaped her lips and Bucky pulled back just enough to brush their noses together. Still, she could see his wide eyes and worried expression.

“Sorry, I forget I don’t have to breathe the same–”

Sarah leaned up to kiss him quiet. He made a pleased, shocked little noise into her mouth, but easily kissed her again. “I was right,” she said when she was sure he wasn’t going to argue again. “You are distracting.”

Bucky grinned and shook his head, dark hair falling into his face. “No, I was right. You’re the distracting one. I don’t know how I’m gonna do anything else again now that I know what that feels like.”

“You better figure it out, ‘cause I need you to put this necklace on.”

Bucky preened and jolted into action, taking the box from her hands and freeing the necklace. He offered the ring out without trying to put it on her finger for her. Then he brushed aside her braids, trailed his fingers over her bare neck, leaned down to kiss some number of her vertebrae reverently, making goosebumps erupt over her skin and a heavy flush follow after his lips. He pulled away after a moment, when her fingers had found his wrist again, and he carefully clipped the necklace in place. He smoothed the chain down over her collarbones, to the top of her sternum before remembering his manners and going no further.

“It suits you,” he said when she turned to face him again, eyes bright. He brushed his thumb over the chain where it sat against the curve of her neck, his hand resting high up on her shoulder, ready to go to her cheek again, pull her close once more, kiss her senseless all over again.

She reached up to touch the charms gently and smiled shyly. “Thank you, Bucky,” she said softly. “This means so much. Especially now.”

“You deserve the world, Sarah,” Bucky said earnestly, shifting his hand just enough to brush his thumb over her cheek. He took a half step closer to her. “Every happiness and beautiful things and joyful Christmases.”

Sarah finished crossing the distance between them and draped her arms around his neck. “Well, superhero, you might’ve just managed to save this one.”

“I dunno what you’re talking about, Ms. Wilson,” he teased, leaning down until his mouth was almost against hers. “This is the best Christmas I’ve had in a long time.”

“How’re you gonna beat it next year?” she wondered, closing her eyes and enjoying the warmth of his body against hers.

“Oh, you want me around next year too, huh? Already got plans?”

“So many plans, Barnes.”

He hugged his arms around her waist and nodded. “I’m all yours,” he promised.

And they kissed again.

If you enjoyed this, please consider leaving a kudos on AO3 here!

[firstelevens]

from the prompt list: 21 and Sam/Bucky ✨

21. you come and pick me up, no headlights

For a second, when Sam wakes up, he can’t remember where he is. He’s the kind of disoriented that only comes from sleeping deeply and for way longer than you’re supposed to, a little over-warm under the covers and still fuzzy on the details of the room around him.

It comes to him in pieces: the bed is perfectly firm and the sheets are comfortable the way hotel bedcovers never are. The room is cool and dark, and the pillow beside his carries the familiar scent of too-fancy haircare products. Sam presses his face into it for a moment, not quite ready to be awake but not tired enough to go back to sleep.

He’s back in Delacroix, he realizes belatedly. He’s back in his own house, in his own bed, after a mission that felt like it had gone on forever and didn’t feel finished even after he’d signed the last piece of paperwork. Being home is always a relief, but never more so than when a mission reminds him of all the things that he still can’t do, even as Captain America.

Memories of last night slowly filter in the more he wakes up: flying in on the quinjet with aching shoulders and a worrying tightness in his knee, and dreading the hour long drive to a house that would be empty, thanks to Thunderbolts business taking Bucky from Louisiana before Sam had left for his own mission.

When they’d touched down, Sam had barely managed to avoid stumbling off the jet, shield and wingpack in one hand and duffel in the other. As he picked out the shape of his truck in the distance, he spared a second to be grateful for Carlos, who’d offered to drop it off earlier so Sam wouldn’t have to wait on a ride after he landed.

He’d almost made it to the driver’s side door before getting the shock of his life, nearly dropping his bags as the supposedly-empty truck started up with a growl. Sam had been tired enough to think of that one Stephen King book and wonder if this wasn’t revenge for the new cars he had test driven last week, but the headlights weren’t on, and he seemed to remember something about those being kind of important for an evil car.

It was in the middle of that slightly delirious train of thought that the door had opened to reveal Bucky, who was out of the cab and already loading Sam’s bags into the bed of the truck before Sam had fully processed what was happening. He’d gone without protest when Bucky had chivvied him into the passenger seat, fully intent on asking when Bucky had gotten home and instead immediately knocking out once the engine started up.

Sam can’t quite remember getting home or making it into bed—there was a bath in there, maybe, and a cup of tea when he’d refused food—but he knows enough to be sure that he’d fallen asleep with Bucky’s arms around him, his face tucked against Sam’s shoulder blade. 

The other side of the bed is cold now, but Sam can hear Bucky making a ruckus down in the kitchen, utensils clinking as he talks animatedly to…someone. If they’re answering him, Sam can’t make out the voice. It’s a phone call, probably.

He drags himself out of bed, rolling his shoulders as he stands and noting with surprise that yesterday’s aches haven’t lingered as much as he expected them to. He puts a little pressure on his knee just to test it, braced for the twinges of pain that he’d felt for the entire quinjet ride, but at worst, it’s just a little stiff, and even that dissipates with some stretching.

Absently, Sam rubs at the spot on his lower back that always hurts after a long day with the wings on and finds that that feels better, too. He’s confused until he spots the little jar of muscle salve that Bucky always grabs when they’re in Wakanda, some kind of superpowered Tiger Balm that he usually rations between visits in case his shoulder flares up. Sam makes a note to tell Shuri that they’re running low so that Bucky doesn’t have to go without.

He just needs coffee, he decides, and starts making his way to the kitchen to find some. When Sam gets to the landing, he stops for a second. He just means to listen to the sounds of home for a second: birds chirping outside and Alpine playing with whatever her latest bell-and-sparkly-tinsel toy is and Bucky clattering around the kitchen, fussing with the newest recipe that he’s been taught by the circle of parish grandmas, all of whom are technically younger than him. (Sam would be hard pressed to admit it, but watching Bucky and Miss Irene and Miss Letty commiserate over how terrible powdered eggs were back in the forties ranks among the top ten cutest things he’s ever seen.)

It’s Bucky’s voice that stops Sam in his tracks, carrying out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Over the years, Sam has heard the Brooklyn accent peek through from time to time, rearing its head when Bucky’s tired or he’s spent a couple days around someone who hits their vowels the same way. In all that time, he can’t think of a moment when he’s heard it this thick, sweet and almost crooning.

He’s so distracted by the accent that Sam doesn’t even think about who Bucky might be addressing, transfixed by how much younger he sounds, how much lighter his words are.

“Did you do that all by yourself?” he’s asking. “You’re so smart, bubs. I didn’t realize we had a prodigy on our hands.”

Sam frowns, trying to figure out who Bucky could possibly be talking to. The most obvious choice would be Alpine, except she’s curled up in the sun at the foot of the stairs, and while both Sam and Bucky tend to baby her, he’s not sure either of them would shower her with praise for doing the exact thing that she spends roughly fifty percent of her time doing.

(Okay, maybe they both would do that, but Alpine is out here with Sam and not in the kitchen with Bucky, so this can’t be about her.)

As if in direct answer to Sam’s unspoken question, a baby’s laugh sounds from the kitchen, giggles rising in pitch until Bucky is shushing them, and now Sam is only more confused.

Where on earth did Bucky get a baby? Does it have to do with the Thunderbolts? Is that why he came home earlier than expected from his mission? That makes sense, honestly. Sam’s met Val; if there were a choice between leaving a baby with her or a literal tiger, he might seriously consider the tiger. 

“Take it easy, huh?” Bucky says, as the baby coos at him. “We can’t have you tiring yourself out, can we? How’re you gonna charm everyone at the park today if you’re napping?”

There’s a pause for the babble that the baby offers in response, and Bucky hums thoughtfully at the end of it.

“That’s a good point; you probably could charm them all even if you were sleeping,” he says. “Like I told your Ma, you’re too cute for your own good. You gotta learn to use that power responsibly.”

The baby babbles again, punctuated by another shriek of laughter. Sam stops spinning out baby acquisition scenarios to appreciate how adorable it is that Bucky is talking to this literal infant like they’re having a full blown conversation.

“Come on, kiddo,” says Bucky. “I thought we had a deal. You don’t wake up Sam while he sleeps off this mission and I play peekaboo with you until my arms fall asleep.”

“Bah!” is the baby’s emphatic response, and Sam’s not sure what that’s supposed to mean, but Bucky is.

“Oh, yes we did. We shook on it.”

A gurgle, and then another laugh.

Bucky lets out a dramatic sigh. “Okay, fine, I shook on it and you just tried to eat my left hand. Still. That’s a gentleman’s agreement.”

Sam muffles a laugh behind his hand, and the sound is apparently enough to disrupt Alpine’s time in the sun. She casts an imperious look back at him before curling up in her spot again, having sufficiently expressed her distaste. Sam wonders if her mood has anything to do with the fact that Bucky’s attention has been claimed by a different adorable someone, and confirms his theory by sitting down on the stairs and waiting her out as he listens to the conversation in the kitchen.

The step squeaks under him, but he’s pretty sure he gets some cover from the baby yelling, “Buh!” and clapping excitedly.

Alpine startles at the noise and gives Sam a look like, Are you seeing this right now? He shrugs at her in a way that he hopes is commiserating, and she responds with a flat stare that she unquestionably picked up from Bucky.

From the kitchen, Sam hears Bucky say, warm and encouraging, “Yeah, that is a bird. You want to go look at the birdfeeder?”

The baby makes another noise that must be a yes. Alpine, now probably offended by the baby and the talk of birds, has begun a stately prowl up the stairs. Sam avoids looking at her as she makes her way up, but immediately offers chin scratches when she settles in his lap.

There’s a running commentary on the birds at the feeder now, finally giving Bucky a use for all the bird facts he picked up while helping Cass with that project on local ecosystems last month. 

“That’s a goldfinch,” he’s explaining, and the baby lets out a soft ooh at whatever the bird is doing. “Uh-huh, he’s real pretty, right?”

Alpine curls up more comfortably in Sam’s lap, and he rests his head against the railing and lets Bucky’s voice wash over him, comforting the way it always is, even when they’re arguing over something stupid.

“You see that one over there on the railing? All showy with the blue and white? That’s a blue jay. Sam likes those, but there’s this red finch that’s his favorite.” He pauses for what Sam assumes is more baby babble. “You, too, huh? Yeah, I guess they’re nice. Not my favorite, though.”

The baby must make an inquisitive noise, because then Bucky’s humming thoughtfully.

“I’m trusting you not to tell anyone, okay? This is top secret stuff.” The baby gurgles and that seems like reassurance enough, because Bucky goes on to say, “All these years and my favorite bird is still Sam.”

Sam snorts and shakes his head. At some point, that joke is going to get old, he’s sure, but as far as Bucky’s concerned, it hasn’t happened yet.

“I know, I know,” Bucky’s saying. “But the first time I saw him fly, he literally knocked me off my feet. That sort of thing tends to leave an impression.”

More cooing from the baby.

“Yeah, okay, so I’m a little biased,” says Bucky, and punctuates it by blowing a raspberry that sends delighted giggles carrying through the house. “But you’ve never seen him fly. He’s nice to look at all the time, but when he’s up in the air? It’s like he was born to be up there. There’s nothing better.”

It’s quiet for a moment, Sam’s heart too full to even think of a quippy response.

“He really is beautiful,” Bucky says, completely sincere, and the part of Sam that hasn’t completely turned to mush feels a little bit guilty for eavesdropping on Bucky like this. The feeling immediately dissipates when Bucky adds, a little bit louder, “It almost makes up for how bad he is at sneaking around his own house.”

Sam looks down at Alpine. “This is your fault,” he tells her as she looks up at him. “I was just trying to figure out if your dad had stolen a baby. I would’ve been like a ghost if I hadn’t sat down to pet you.”

There’s a snort from Bucky, who appears in the doorway to the kitchen with a curly-haired baby on his hip. “Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”

“I will,” says Sam. In his lap, Alpine perks up as soon as she hears Bucky’s voice, then rears back at the sight of the baby. They watch her hop off of Sam and flounce her way into the family room, probably in search of Fig. “So are you gonna explain where this baby came from or…?”

“I’m not sure I have time for an entire birds and the bees talk right now,” Bucky says, blinking at Sam as innocently as possible. “I’d offer to give you the highlights but I think Jordan’s a little young to hear all that.”

“You’re not as funny as you think you are,” says Sam, as he takes the last couple of steps moves towards the kitchen. He smiles at the baby, holding a finger out for him to grip. “Hi, Jordan. You have fun birdwatching with Bucky?”

Jordan looks at Sam, wide-eyed at the sound of his own name, and grabs onto Sam’s hand before turning to Bucky with a beatific if gummy smile.

“Did you say hi to Sam?” Bucky asks, tickling Jordan’s stomach and making him giggle. “Did you tell him you like blue jays, too?”

There’s something about the way that Bucky moves with a baby in his arms, swaying and bouncing just the right amount, alert but not tense. He’s confident anytime they’re out in the field, and time in Delacroix has helped him shake off the shyness and hesitation that colored his earliest visits here, but there’s an element of this that goes beyond that. It seems instinctive, somehow.

Sam has the mildly embarrassing thought that he could watch it for a while and not get bored, and decides not to test how obvious this inclination is by coming up with a distraction. “I’m starving,” he says. “Have you eaten yet?”

Bucky shakes his head. “Got a little distracted when Miss Letty showed up with this one,” he says. “And he keeps touching my left hand, so I didn’t want the metal heating up near the stove.”

“If I make breakfast, you think you and your co-pilot over there can handle putting on some coffee for us? Is there a stroller or something that we can put him in?”

“Don’t worry about it,” says Bucky, waving a dismissive hand. “I’ve had plenty of practice.”

“Juggling a kid and making breakfast?” asks Sam, as he pulls eggs and milk out of the fridge. “Who are you, June Cleaver?”

“You know I don’t know who that is.”

Sam just shrugs, letting Bucky have the out if he wants it, and gets a mixing bowl from the cabinet so he can start making pancake batter. After a few moments of working in relative silence—Jordan is still as chatty as ever, and Bucky keeps up his end of the conversation—the coffee maker starts burbling, and Sam feels Bucky come up to stand beside him, his chin resting on Sam’s shoulder as he peers into the mixing bowl.

It’s like waiting Alpine out on the stairs earlier. Sam keeps working, measuring out his flour and whisking in baking powder and salt. Bucky nudges the carton of eggs over before Sam has to reach for them, and he just hums in acknowledgment when Sam thanks him.

“Evie went through a phase,” is what he finally says, when the batter is nearly done. “Right after Rose was born, when she wasn’t the baby of the family anymore. Any time she saw Ma holding the new baby, she’d want to be held, too. I got real good at juggling a two year old in one arm and whatever I needed to get done in the other. Then Ma went back to work, and I would sit up with Rosie when her colic got bad, walk her around the apartment until she calmed down enough to sleep.”

Sam can picture it perfectly: teenaged Bucky, still growing into the dashing good looks that were memorialized in all the textbooks, but with the same sense of duty that would keep him at Steve’s side years later, soothing tears and finishing fights in the same afternoon. There are so many skills that Bucky carries that Sam has watched him struggle with, not knowing whether HYDRA put them there or why he might have needed them. He can’t help but feel relieved that Bucky also gets to keep this, too, this muscle memory that belongs wholly to the person he was before tragedy could touch him.

It’s rare for Bucky to talk about his childhood at all, between the gaps in his memory and the grief over what he’s lost. As a rule, Sam tries not to make a big deal out of it when it happens, so in spite of how full his heart feels, he just leans into Bucky’s warmth, pressing a kiss to his cheek before he can pull away.

“Sounds like they were lucky to have you,” Sam murmurs.

“Yeah, maybe,” says Bucky, sniffing a little. “I guess so.”

“They were,” says Sam, more firmly this time. “Trust me. I know the feeling.”

He has the sense that Bucky’s about to argue, but then Jordan cuts him off with another well-timed, “Bah!”

“See?” Sam says, pointing at Jordan. “You have to listen to us. You’re outnumbered.”

Bucky lets out a gusty sigh, looking down at Jordan, who just coos at him. “I can’t believe you’d betray me like this.”

“He saw a better deal and he took it,” says Sam. “Sorry, baby.”

“Fine,” grouses Bucky. “I’m conceding, but I’m gonna be persnickety about it.”

“You can be as persnickety as you want, as long as you know I’m right,” says Sam, carrying the bowl of batter to the stove.

“In that case, if I tell you that you’re right again, will you add those pralines we bought to the pancakes?”

“I’m above flattery, Barnes,” he says, but now he’s thinking about brown sugar and pecan caramelizing against the pan and it sounds delicious. “But yeah, maybe.”

Bucky sets a coffee mug on the counter in front of him and steals a kiss. “Chocolate chips, too?”

“Don’t push it,” says Sam, but he’s already turning to grab the Toll House bag from the pantry, and he can’t even be that annoyed about it when Bucky crows about his victory.

It’s good to be home, he thinks, and throws a chocolate chip at Bucky’s head for good measure.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Thinking about nearly completely feral, Nomad Steve Rogers and soft, Wankandan Bucky Barnes sleeping next to each other.

Although, this time I'm thinking about Steve coming home to Bucky; home is Bucky and right now Bucky is in Wakanda. So that is where he goes.

Steve comes home to a hut that he can slip into soundlessly--carefully pushing aside the cloth Bucky has hanging in the entry way as a soft, easy barrier. Here--surrounded by native flora and fauna as well as other goatherders and their flocks--it's safe enough that he doesn't need a door, let alone a lock.

At first, without a greeting and without being able to spot Bucky out and about feeding, milking, or sweet talking his goats, entertaining the nearby kids, or even chopping or gathering firewood, Steve figures Bucky must be in the city. Maybe visiting Shuri and the King. Maybe enjoying local sights. However, upon entering Bucky's small, cozy hut, Steve picks up that that is not the case. Bucky isn't gone. Not at all. He's here. Sleeping softly. His face and body untense, spending some time in a light, airy unconscious space of mind.

As silently as possible, Steve sheds his torn, ripped, and his dirty shirt. He already removed his weathered jacket on the quinjet, the heat and humidity turning up when they were still two hours out from Wakanda. However, at the same time he gets out of his shirt, Steve thinks what the hell, my pants are stained too with mud crusted into them, so he might as well take them off too.

He sheds them all.

He sheds his shield too, it's not the one he broke fighting Thanos, taking the power of the snap with everyone's hands helping, one hand on his shoulder, a hand on that persons shoulder and so on: a chain of defense. But its also not the shield Sam has. Sam's is circular and classic, he is captain america now after all. Steve is just... avenging? He smirks to himself, taking in his ruined civilian clothes clashing with his shield. He doesn't wear a uniform these days. His shield, unlike Sam's, is more like the one Peggy shot at a lifetime ago. Sliver. Plain. This one is not new. It is riddled with scratches and dings and dents--well used and a little aged... just like Steve feels. Though, Steve still shudders with an icicle of fear tracing down his bare spine. He will always remember the heart-racing fear of being shot without knowing what he really was capable of- capable of surviving.

Steve shakes his head. He sighs. Quietly. He still is doing everything he can to not wake Bucky.

Bucky continues to lay peacefully in his nest of blankets and pillows, huddled in the corner of the hut. Sleeping. His chest rises and falls. Evenly. His arm is wrapped around his own waist, hugging himself as he rests.

Steve could use some rest too. His back and legs are sore from riding his motorcycle before he hopped onto the quinjet--the bike was built with his own hands from the ground up; satisfying when he did it orginally but now inarguably ancient and uncomfortable with all the vintage, mish-mashed parts he's used for it. Not that he change it if he could though, it's got history, so much that Steve can feel it in his palms, through his roughened, fingerless gloves as he rides, purring between his legs...

Off his bike, off the roaring jet, standing in silence, Steve's ears ring. It'll go down soon enough, once his healing factor kicks in. Just like soon enough his shot voice won't rasp and won't be useless at talking or even whispering. He's spent too long bouncing only between being by himself, not needing to speak, and yelling while fighting the good fight--tearing into people who deserve it. He can't be thinking about those people though. No. Not here in this cozy space with the smells of spices and wood smoke from home-cooking melding together in a strangely nostalgic way even though it's not a smell from Steve's past.

Here and now, safe and sound, Steve can recognize how much he smells-

He smells like he hasn't bathed (he hasn't, there had been no opportunities recently) but also like gasoline and wind. It's the scent of tearing through cities, mountains, and coastal highways, on the prowl, alone with his thoughts and his single minded mission...

He is not alone.

Bucky yawns, huge and endearing. Steve's hearing picks up the sound of his jaw cracking as he wakes. Bucky sits up slowly, drowsily.

There are no words are exchanged between them. They don't need them.

They haven't seen each other for long enough that Bucky probably should have a reaction to all of Steve's bare skin--an unconcious siren call of want. But, Bucky isn't drawn into it's melody this evening. He can read the exhaustion tugging at his bones. It calls to him more than his lust as he stirs, hearing Steve shuffle about. Sensing him as if they're bonded. Ha.

Still, there are no words are exchanged between them. They still don't need them. And yet, Steve's head ends up in Bucky's lap like they planned it. His too long, blonde hair falling over his face. His unthrimmed beard scratchy against Bucky's thigh where the fabric of his tunic has ridden up in his sleep.

Studying him, looking down, Bucky finds a linear scab--a healing scratch through his eyebrow and one over the bridge of his handsome nose. The gash is already healing. There is no reason to fret. There is nothing to do but wait. Yellow, brown, and purplish hues hide just under Steve's skin in the pattern unfolding petals.

Bruises.

Bucky traces them with all of the gentleness he possesses and some he doesn't. Watching his lover with patient, knowing eyes, Bucky finds himself wishing he had two hands once again just so he could touch more of the other man a once. Feel more of him. Know he's alive and safe.

In the silent but communicative air, Steve catches Bucky's hand with his own. Hair shadows his forearm and the back of his hand now that he's not maintaining that pristine image. Steve, himself and nothing more, tugs Bucky's hand to his lips.

He kisses his palm just as his lashes flutter closed. Sleep calling to him. He knows Bucky will be there when he wakes up.

[notinthislife50]

Chapter 3

Meeting the Avengers

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As the other avengers crowded in to the meeting room. You stood in the door way. Anxiously looking up and down the hall and taking note of where everyone stood in the room, you were always planning your escape, you had to. You were panicking a bit more this time though as in front of you, you had the avengers. Could you even escape this time if you needed. “They are here to help, they are to help” you kept repeating in your head. “None of their names are in the brief case” you reminded yourself hugging the brief case close to you. “What's with big brother?” Tony questioned nodding at you before adding " isn't she on the missing list?” Steve replied “yes,  but she is now under our protection, no one is to know she is here, no one” ‘“So no one?” Stark replied rolling his eyes. Before Steve had a chance for a retort, you butted in. “I’m glad you think this is a joke Mr Stark” trying to sound confident. “Oh she speaks” Tony raised both arms. “Tony” Natasha shook her head “this is serious” “It’s okay Miss Romanoff, let him have his laugh” you dead panned “but while this may be funny for you Mr stark,  I have my ex husband, the new captain America” you confirmed  “and Hydra trying to kill me, so they can get their hands on this case” you held up your arm " so yes,  pardon me if I’m a bit nervous.” You glowered at him. “Why what’s in the case?” Sam asked. “Well Mr. Wilson, it's proof John is working for Hydra and names of all those in shield who are also working for hydra.” You stated “any jokes you want to add Mr Stark?” staring at him. Looking around the room you saw the looks of shock. “Shield is working for hydra, no way” Bruce said. You sighed “I’m afraid so Mr. Banner, it’s all here and until agent Coulson comes back from where ever he is, you guys are my only hope” you tried not to break down. “Okay then princess Leia” Tony spoke up “I guess your staying with us for awhile” Natasha walked over to you and asked “would you like me to show you to your room?” “Yes please but” she cut you off confirming “Of course we can take the stairs” you smiled at her. And with that you both walked off. “Your room is beside me and Wanda's. It's an all female wing.  I know your don’t trust us, but if you need anything,  we are right beside you” “Thank you Miss Romanoff” you said sincerely. “You can call me Natasha. You can call us all by our first names,  we aren’t that formal round here” she tried to comfort you. “I’ll try,  but John always made me call everyone Mr and Miss or Mrs” you replied. “Well thankfully John isn’t here” she smiled reassuringly. As she opened the door to your room she give you a nod and walked back to the team. you made a mental note of the window, again in your head trying to calculate an escape route. You placed the duvet and pillows right at the door knowing that’s where you’d be sleeping.

[marveltrumpshate]

November 2023 MTH fills

Are you in the festive holiday mood? See all the fills that people gifted in November below!

The best way to see all the fills that have been shared with us is our monthly roundups tag or our #MTH-fills channel on our Discord, but you can also view them through the following methods:

Our Tumblr tags: 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022, 2023

Our AO3 collections: 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022, 2023 (only has works posted to AO3)

Completed works tag list

To find specific content, use our completed works tag lists above which includes instructions on how to search for a particular character, gen or romantic relationship, universe, and fanwork type. 

SOLO CHARACTERS

BUCKY BARNES

Ginger/@your-ginger-angel - Cross-stitch piece of Bucky holding flowers based on art by eklixio for epicstuckyficrecs (MTH 2022)

LOKI

Eustacia Vye/@eustaciavye28 - "Glorious Purpose" (post-Loki S2 finale fic where Loki visits the people he cares about) for moonyroony

KAMALA KHAN

Jason K Jones/@jkjones21 - Art of 616 Kamala in her X-Men uniform running and raising her embiggened fist for illogicalkat

Jason K Jones/jkjones21 - Art of 616 Kamala chilling out reading fic for psychiccatpanda

MIGUEL O'HARA

@caiabresebun - Art of shirtless Miguel toweling his hair after showering for nostalgicatsea

SAM WILSON

@ghostcwtch - Handmade ceramic mug featuring Sam's Falcon symbol for bulkyphrase

STEVE ROGERS

ghostcwtch - Handmade ceramic mug featuring the Captain America shield for bulkyphrase

RoseRose/tehroserose - "Wherever Flames May Rage" (an AU sonnet about firefighter Steve) for starksnack

TONY STARK

@deehellcat - Fingerless knitted Iron Man gauntlet gloves for hannahshattuck

RoseRose/tehroserose - "Interrobang" (a sestina about Tony finding joy in discovery) for @kerravonsen

VENOM

deehellcat - Tiny crocheted Venom dragon for Turbulent Muse

GEN/PLATONIC RELATIONSHIPS

AVENGERS TEAM & TONY STARK

@queenofalotofdifferentworlds - "The Customer" (bakery AU fic where Steve and his team run a bakery and meet Tony) for sofreakinmanyfandoms

BRETT MAHONEY & MATT MURDOCK

@not-madder-red - "Saved" (canon-divergent MCU Brett & Matt fic where Brett is the officer who came to the scene in Daredevil S1E8) for kimmycup

PETER PARKER & FLASH THOMPSON

seekrest/@seek--rest

- "on little light" (Devil Wears Prada-inspired secret identity AU fic where Peter works as Tony's assistant at SI) for LoveReading84

PETER PARKER & TONY STARK

Khalixa/@khalixascorner

- "Made From Love" (fluffy AU fic where alpha Tony is a single dad to omega Peter) for muscatlove (MTH 2022)

seekrest/seek--rest - "on little light" (Devil Wears Prada-inspired secret identity AU fic where Peter works as Tony's assistant at SI) for LoveReading84

SHIPS

BRUCE BANNER/THOR

@cthooliac - Matching chibi MCU Bruce/Thor charms for @blueeyesblazing (MTH 2022)

BUCKY BARNES/CLINT BARTON

cassandrasfischer - "Espresso" (MCU Bucky/Clint fic where Clint tries to figure out what kind of coffee Bucky likes) for effervescentaardvark (MTH 2022)

BUCKY BARNES/NATASHA ROMANOV

@spinachgarden - "no grave can hold my body down (i'll crawl home to her)" (canon-divergent post-Blip MCU Bucky/Nat fic) for call-me-kayyyyy (MTH 2022)

BUCKY BARNES/SAM WILSON

@sumbacky - Art of Sam and Bucky on holiday together for yavannie (MTH 2022)

BUCKY BARNES/STEVE ROGERS

@cutecumber-flower - Art of Steve and Bucky visiting a war friend's grave for randomosityb (MTH 2021)

BUCKY BARNES/STEVE ROGERS/NATASHA ROMANOV

@cristinuke - "l'enfer fini" (Bucky/Steve/Nat MCU A/B/O fuck or die fic) for zepysgirl (MTH 2021)

BUCKY BARNES/STEVE ROGERS/TONY STARK

Dodo/@dodomedic - "The affairs of Tsums and Dragons" (Steve/Bucky/Tony dragon A/B/O tsums AU fic) for aquatigermice

BUCKY BARNES/TONY STARK

@kandisheek - Bucky/Tony package including lavender-scented pillows, earrings, bracelets, necklaces, magnets, and Avengers stickers for ruquas (extra photo)

ERIK LEHNSHERR/CHARLES XAVIER

flightinflame - "What Makes You Stronger" (post-X-Men: First Class Charles/Erik soulmates fic) for redgauntletblueshield (MTH 2022)

JAMES "RHODEY" RHODES/TONY STARK

holistic_alcoholic/@holistic-alcoholic - "The Power Throuple of the Century" (MCU Rhodey/Tony fic where everyone thinks Rhodey, Tony, and Iron Man are a throuple due to Tony's secret identity) for sofreakinmanyfandoms

LOKI/MOBIUS

WinterRaven/@ravensonata - "Alchemy of Love, Illusion, and Fire" (shapeshifting dragon!Loki/knight!Mobius AU fic) for mirilya (MTH 2022)

LOKI/TONY STARK

SpaceCrazyArtist and @arabesqueangel - "Centuries Old and Unbending" (Loki/Tony arranged royal marriage AU fic which SpaceCrazyArtist is illustrating) for Xavier845 (MTH 2021)

NED LEEDS/PETER PARKER

happyaspie/@yes-i-am-happyaspie - "Catalyst" (MCU Ned/Peter fic where they get together—awkwardly—with a little push from MJ) for Lady Gigi

PETER PARKER/MARY JANE WATSON

seekrest/seek--rest - "everywhere, everything" (Marvel's Spider-Man 2 (PS5) Peter/MJ hopeful epilogue fic where Peter takes a break while dealing with his guilt) for metaderivative (MTH 2022)

PETER PARKER/TONY STARK

khalixa/khalixascorner - "Like Father Like Son" (dark Peter/Tony AU fic where Loki messes with them with a fake paternity scare) for guardianofthepeanutwrites (MTH 2022)

stillheremydear - "The Best Kept Secret" (canon-divergent Peter/Tony secret identity AU fic) for muscatlove (MTH 2022)

STEVE ROGERS/SAM WILSON

ghostcwtch - Handmade ceramic mugs featuring the Captain America shield and Falcon symbol for bulkyphrase

STEVE ROGERS/TONY STARK

queenofalotofdifferentworlds - "The Customer" (Steve/Tony bakery AU fic where Steve and his team run a bakery and meet Tony) for sofreakinmanyfandoms - "Captain Obvious and Oblivious Man" (post-Avengers Steve/Tony fic where Tony gets kidnapped) for starksnack - "Nowhere Else To Go" (Steve/Tony AU fic where warlord Steve offers himself to king Tony to save his people) for oper1895

RoseRose/tehroserose - "Pride Blinds" (2012 MCU Steve/Tony enemies-to-lovers sonnet) for starksnack

[avengerscompound]

Small Gods: Little Traditions - 6

Little Traditions: A Sam Wilson Fanfic

Little Traditions Masterlist | More Small Gods PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Sam Wilson x F!Reader

Rating: E

Word Count: 1941

Warnings: smut (FM, oral sex, vaginal sex)

Synopsis: Since the blip and Steve Rogers giving up the mantle of Captain America, Sam’s life has been chaotic.  It’s not enough that the world has moved on in the five years he’d gone, and that he’d missed so much, now he has to live with everything it means to be Captain America.  He feels like he’s losing all the things that make him him.  A venture to the supermarket to recreate one of his parents’ famous recipes brings him to you.

Chapter 6

Sam woke as the sun only just started to peek through the window.  It was still ingrained in him to wake at dawn from his time in the air force.  Of course, meeting Steve who had that same ingrained behavior, didn’t help.  The two of them would get up at dawn and run together every day they were in the same city.  It was their little tradition, and it had kept that internal alarm set to dawn, so that even well after Steve had gone back to the past and lived his life, Sam still had that habit.

He opened his eyes just a crack and in the dim light, seeing you sleeping peacefully next to him, he decided it might be time to reset that tradition too.  He’d need to train - he was Captain America after all, and unlike Steve, he didn’t have super soldier serum to fall back on if he got lazy with his fitness.  But - he needed to have a life too, so maybe one or two times a week he could sleep in and have a lazy morning with you, the woman he was falling for.

He rolled over, draping his arm over you as he closed his eyes again, and just enjoyed the comfort of his bed and the warmth of your body pressed against him.

Sleep didn’t come for him again, but he did doze peacefully, his mind using the opportunity to sort through his feelings about everything - from Steve’s appearance with the shield by the lake - all the way up to being here in bed with you.

As the sun moved higher and seeped through the curtains, a beam of light crept up the bed and bathed you in the soft morning light.  Dust motes floated through the beam, the golden orbs dancing around you like pixies, making you look every bit like the goddess you were.

Your eyes twitched and you moved into his chest, your lips pressed against his skin, softly kissing him in a trail along his pec. Sam hummed.  It was a deep rumble of a sound that came from his chest and bubbled up inside him.  His hand moved over your scalp and down the back of your neck.  “Good morning,” he said, the gravel of sleep still thick in his voice.  “How’d you sleep?”

“Really good,” you replied, your eyes cracking open just enough to meet his gaze from your spot at his chest.  “Thank you.”

You started to kiss down his body, your lips trailing down his abdominals.  He watched as you disappeared under the sheet, and then let his head fall back on the pillows and just enjoyed the feel of your lips on his skin.  You paused at his stomach, swirling your tongue around and grazing your teeth over his abdominals, sending a shiver up his spine.  It made his already hard cock jump and a bead of pre-come formed on the tip.

He let out a moan as you moved lower, your teeth softly scratching down the line of his Adonis’ belt.  When you reached his cock, you ran the tip of your tongue up his shaft and caught the bead of precome from the tip, humming as you licked it up.

The wet of your mouth closed around the head of his cock and he moaned again, louder this time as he lifted his hips in an unconscious attempt to get more.  Your hand wrapped around the base of his shaft and you began to pump as you lowered your mouth down, swallowing his cock.  You started to bob your head, just shallowly at first.  It was like you were trying to tease him or warm him up.  Almost as if you wanted him to beg for more.  Yet each time you lowered your head you took just that little bit more.

Heat began to build inside him like a fire had been stoked in his gut.  He ran one hand over your head, his fingertips scratching over your scalp as you took him deeper and deeper.  The sounds of your moans and the wet slap of his cock penetrating your mouth floated up from under the blanket. It wasn’t long until you were deep-throating him and he could feel his cock starting to pulse.

“Baby,” he moaned.  “Stop, babe… wanna fuck you.”

You pulled back with a graphic slurp and crawled up his body straddling his waist.  As you leaned in to kiss him, he rolled you both so you were on your sides facing each other, and he reached over and fished a condom from his side table.

When it was rolled on, he eased his cock into your soaking cunt.  The two of you moaned together as he slowly filled you.  Sam was in no hurry.  It had been a long fucking time since he last had this slow, lazy, morning sex and he was determined to enjoy every second of it.

The two of you moved together like you were a single organism.  Your hips rolled with his, and his lips caressed over yours.  He ran his hand down to your thigh and pulled it up higher on his waist, making it so that he could penetrate her deeper.  He dragged his hips up with each roll of his hips so the base of his cock rubbed against your clit.  It made you moan every time he did it, but the sound was swallowed by the kiss.

He could feel your orgasm getting closer as your cunt fluttered and your muscles pulled tight.  You stopped kissing him back as you held your body rigid with your lips parted.  Each breath you exhaled he inhaled so the air between the two of you became thin and warm, and lacking oxygen.  “Sam… Sammy.  Oh gods, yes,” you babbled.

“That’s it, baby,” he groaned.  “Let me feel it.”

You moaned and your head fell back as your orgasm hit.  Your cunt clenched tight around his shaft, milking him for all he had.  He kept thrusting but he had already been close himself and with a shudder, he came too, his cock pulsing inside you as your pussy clenched around him.

“Fuck,” he groaned.  “God, you’re amazing.”

You smiled and your hands went to his jaw, your fingertips tracing over his skin.  “You’re the amazing one.”

Warmth flooded his whole form and he leaned in and kissed you, determined to spend as much time enjoying the morning as he could.

After spending some more time cuddling and making out, and following that up with a shared shower, Sam took you downstairs to the kitchen to get breakfast started.  He was surprised to find Cass and AJ alone and fixing themselves some cereal.  Sarah was big on giving them a full breakfast and for a moment he was worried that there had been an accident with the boat.  It didn’t take long for his rational brain to catch up.  It was Sunday.  The boat didn’t go out on a Sunday.  She may be sleeping in because she wasn’t feeling well, but she was safe.

“Where’s your mom?” he asked the boys as you followed him into the kitchen.  He looked around the room to see if there were any signs of life to figure out if she’d gotten up and gone outside or - well anything, and he noticed the second strange thing.  The couch hadn’t been slept on.  Wherever Bucky was, he hadn’t come home.  That did worry Sam.  If Bucky hadn’t been home at all, he was likely on a mission, and Bucky didn’t go on missions without trying to drag Sam along with him.  Sam was going to have to follow that up.

“She’s still in bed,” AJ said.

“You’re sure of that?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, we knocked and she said don’t come in and she’d be out soon,” AJ explained.

Sam’s eyebrows knitted together and he looked back toward the door to Sarah’s room.  As he did it opened and Sarah came out, tying off her robe around the middle.  Relief washed over Sam, though it was short-lived.  The emotion he had next wasn’t even one he could pin down.  Surprise was there.  Maybe anger too - though anger didn’t seem to be the right way to describe it.

Stepping out of Sarah’s bedroom just on her heels, was Bucky.

“Sarah!” he yelped.  “Bucky!  What the…?  You … Since when…? Bucky!  That’s my sister!”

“Oh, calm down, Sam,” Sarah said.

“Yeah, Samuel,” Bucky added, though he did have the good sense to look a little sheepish.

“How long has this been going on?” Sam asked.

“It’s been a while,” Sarah said. “So relax.”  She looked over at you. “Good morning.  Are you staying for breakfast?”

You looked from Sarah to Sam with your eyes wide, resembling more of a deer caught in headlights than a serious girlfriend.  “I was thinking about it, but if you all have something to discuss…”

Sarah looked at Sam and raised her eyebrow in that way only she could.  It was a look that she had perfected ever since their parents were killed and Sam stepped in to head the family.  It was a look that said ‘Sam Wilson, I love you, but you are overstepping.  Back off or I’ll make your life a misery.’

His eyebrows drew together as he considered the implications of all of this.  He had specifically told Bucky not to flirt with his sister.  He liked Bucky.  Part of him felt responsible for Bucky.  But there was that - and then there was having the guy sleep with his sister.  If they broke up it would be a goddamn nightmare for him.  So there was that too.  Plus Sarah was his little sister and sure she was all grown up and had kids, but he still felt protective of her.

Still, there were worse guys for her than Bucky Barnes, and she was a grown-up.  It wasn’t really his place to say who she could and couldn’t see.  Part of him felt he was allowed to tell Bucky who he could and couldn’t see, but probably that wasn’t true either.

The thing he wanted most of all though was for you to stay and for everyone to get along.  He wanted this to be the start of something new.  A new family dynamic.  A new tradition.  Maybe one that might get altered and changed over time.  Maybe he’d get his own place with you one day so it wouldn’t be breakfast anymore, but rather Sunday dinners when everyone was in town.  Maybe one day more kids would join the family.  He could see a lot of potentials and he wanted to take the leap.

“Stay,” he said quickly, turning to you and taking your hand.  “Please stay.  I’ll make pancakes.  I promise - if my sister is happy, then I am happy.”

Sarah kissed his cheek. “Thank you.  I am happy.  And for the record, I feel the same way about you.  It’s about time you had someone special in your life again.”

“You too, Sare,” he said.

“What - you don’t care if I’m happy?” Bucky teased.

“Watch it, Barnes,” Sam warned.  “You’re still on thin ice.”

Bucky laughed and held up his hands as the rest of his family started getting the things for breakfast ready.  This was nice.  Good.  Not at all what he’d planned but he’d needed this.  He needed to keep Sam Wilson alive and not get lost in what it was to be Captain America.  This was how he was going to do that, holding on to the ones he loved and creating new traditions with them.

~ END ~

[mediocre-daydreams]

(ch. 2) wild heart | bucky barnes x reader

love’s a state of mind

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: bucky barnes is a brooding, unsociable, inconsistent grouch, so you can’t understand why you find him so curious. bucky barnes knows nothing about you other than the fact that you’re already awfully affectionate with sam, so why does your laugh have such control over him?

warnings: swearing, oddly specific descriptions of bucky’s personality skdjfh

w/c: 1.5k

once in a million years a lady like her rises

oh no, rhiannon, you cry, but she’s gone

your life knows no answer

you decided very quickly that you loved game night. happy had yet to arrive with your belongings, so you and wanda shuffled though her closet for pajama bottoms—you had settled on a pair with a captain america’s shield pattern, which you thought would be a fitting “thank you” to your tour guide from this afternoon.

“give me a twirl!” wanda commanded. you put your hands on your hips and took a few runway model steps, shaking your hips with attitude, before flipping your hair and giving a little spin. you and wanda shrieked in delight.

“what’s going on in- oh, hey there beautiful,” an unfamiliar voice streamed into the room, followed by a grinning man in breakfast food-themed pajamas. “i’ve heard all about you. sam wilson, at your service.” sam dipped his head in a small bow, looking up at you from his position slyly.

“looking good, guys.” steve came up behind sam with an approving look on his face as he took in your pajama bottoms. “and i’m loving your pajama choice.”

“hey, how come i don’t get pajamas made after me?” sam whined, leaning a shoulder against the doorframe as he winked at you.

you rolled your eyes at his endearing flirtatiousness, just as ready to reciprocate. “i don’t know if it’s just me, wilson, but how is anybody supposed to tell the difference between falcon and hawk patterned pants?” you laughed at sam’s fake pout. “but don’t worry, i’ll wear your clothes regardless.”

sam and wanda roared with laughter while steve’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “i love you! i love you, man. you can wear my clothes anytime, gorgeous.” sam winked theatrically.

wanda nudged you with her shoulder, pushing a small pillow into your hands. “i didn’t realize you were such a flirt! how come i don’t get any of the love?” she teased, grabbing a pillow of her own.

you pressed a kiss to your fingertip and tapped her nose. “i couldn’t let sam get away with being the only asshole here.”

“woah, woah, woah, what happened to our connection? i thought we had something special going on here, girl.” steve chuckled, clapping a hand on sam’s shoulder to push him away from wanda’s room.

“c’mon, let’s start game night. hurry up, you two!”

it didn’t take long before you found yourself laughing alongside the avengers. squeezed between wanda and sam on the push couch of the common area, you were obnoxiously celebrating your monopoly win by rubbing it in tony’s face. as the group around you laughed and enjoyed themselves, you took a second to assess your surroundings. there you were, in a room full of some of the most incredible people on earth, and you felt like you completely belonged. you couldn’t remember the last time you felt like you belonged somewhere. you couldn’t remember the last time you were helpful to someone.

“-and we couldn’t have won without our favorite capitalist,” sam slurred, leaning his entire body weight on you as you giggled in surprise. “so cheers!” sam offered you a sip of his drink and then left a quick peck on your cheek, to which you ruffled his hair.

from across you on a stack of pillows, natasha grinned, eyes flickering between sam and bucky, who sat on the floor just a few feet away from the two of you. bucky’s eyes were trained on sam’s head which rested on your shoulder, and his fingers were tapping restlessly on the neck of his beer bottle.

the clinking of bucky’s vibranium fingers against the glass was a nervous metronome to the cheerfully buzzing, slightly tipsy room of avengers. you glanced over at bucky, and for the fleeting moment the two of you locked eyes, you felt something akin to curiosity. but just a moment later, he looked away from you with indifference and you wondered if maybe there was something you had done to provoke him into such unstable behavior.

“sam?” you whispered into his ear, which was already right by your lips.

sam hummed, looking up at you leisurely from his shoulder and batting his eyelashes dramatically. you laughed, indulging in his comical actions.

“sam, is he always like… that?” you hissed, jerking your chin to the disgruntled supersoldier who was now glaring holes into the carpet.

“ohh, bucky? yeah, he’s kind of a grinch. like an all-around black hole, you know? he just sucks the fun out of everything. like,” sam’s head left your shoulder so he could look you in the eyes as he leaned in, whispering conspiratorially. “he’s like if you took a 13 year old emo nihilist and crossed it with the apathy of a 100 year old man (which he quite literally is),” sam put his hand up to his mouth and waggled his eyebrows for humorous effect. “the kind of old man who sits on their porch waving a cane around at the kids on his lawn, you know? yeah, that’s kind of like him.”

you choked on a laugh, not wanting to be rude to one of the first people you’d met since coming to the compound. you had to admit, though, sam was right. even from the side, you could see the deep press of his eyebrows and the repeated clenching and unclenching of his jaw, that little strand of hair that fell into his eyes as he stared at the ground, and you couldn’t help but fixate on his hands—those perfect hands—as they came up to brush the small curl away. vibranium or not, you wondered what it’d be like to hold them.

shit. no, fuck. you just fucking got here. you’re not going to fuck things up even more than you probably already will by thirsting over the first man you see. get ahold of yourself.

“i- i kind of see it,” you admitted, pushing sam’s body away from yours. “jesus, dude, you’re hot.” sam’s eyes widened smugly and you stammered. “as in, your temperature is uncomfortably high. you’re overheating me. but yes, sam, you are quite the looker. don’t worry.” sam looked victoriously at natasha, who had been eyeing him, annoyed, all night. (he knew she didn’t mean it.)

wanda leaned over. “just wait until you see him in the morning, when he’s all grumpy and pouty. he’s not so pretty then,” she chided, pulling laughs from the rest of the group. tony guffawed.

“hell, he could give our second favorite resident grandfather a run for his money,” he wheezed, watching as bucky broke from his intense stare-down with the air to whip his head around the room, disoriented. when he pieced together that you were all laughing at his expense, he scowled once more.

“you all are the worst,” he grumbled, crossing his arms. you couldn���t help but giggle at the sight of him; his big arms over his burly chest made him look like a stubby, upset toddler. he raised his head at the sound of your laugh, which cut through the static noise of the rest of the room.

bells, he thought. your laugh was like bells. he wasn’t sure if he loved the comfort and nostalgia he could pull from the sound, or if he resented having to relive the memories of a lifetime that had been stripped away from him. either way, your laugh had too much control over him and that was a liability.

that night, bucky laid awake in his bed, sheets wrinkling under him from his tossing and turning. he hadn’t bothered with a blanket; he was always too warm anyways. even with the overhead fan quietly buzzing away, he could hear the scraping of cardboard boxes across the floor of your room, which shared a wall with his. he wasn’t very excited about that. every interaction he’d had with you had been embarrassing at his expense, and yet, you never seemed to look down upon him for that. he’d slammed the door in your face only for you to smile and laugh it off, and then he’d barged in on your tour with steve and tried to flirt with you, only to get cockblocked by his best friend, and then he’d been teased in front of the entire team at game night, but you’d still walked down the hall with him and bid him goodnight before turning in to your own barren bedroom.

he pulled a pillow over his head, but if he was being honest with himself, it wasn’t to block out the noise of your shuffling and unpacking. it was to get the thought of you out of his mind, because it was quite stupid, really, that he had let you infiltrate his brain so quickly. he’d known you for less than a day, but you had some sort of magnetism about you. to the extent of his knowledge, you were no witch. you weren’t a SHIELD agent, nor were you a tech genius with a suit or three PhDs. you were just… you.

but surely, you must’ve been here for a reason. thoughts of you kept him tossing. who were you? why were you here? what were your intentions? and what had you done to him?

lyric analysis:

once in a million years a lady like her rises // oh no rhiannon, you cry, but she’s gone // your life knows no answer

“rhiannon” has a powerful charisma to her. she’s distinct, and the few people who are lucky enough to meet her should cherish her presence; as when she’s gone, their lives will never be full again.

tag list: (comment if you want to be added!)

@im-a-slut-for-fluff​

[on-the-outside]

orange spice tea

For Peter, the worst kind of nightmares aren't the bad ones. They aren't the ones where the buildings fall or the aliens come pouring from the sky.

Those ones haunt his mind and leave flickering images behind his eyes, but they're not the worst.

The worst nightmares are the happy ones.

***

He’s sitting at the dining room table, spooning his favorite pasta onto a chipped ceramic plate, patterned with roses. Ben cooked that night, so the food is good, and Peter is excitedly explaining to Ben and May about what he learned in Science that day. Peter knows that they don’t understand, but they nod along and at least try to pretend. When he talks about his new friend, Ned, who likes science too, Ben and May give each other soft, happy smiles. Ben cracks a joke, which sends Peter into a fit of giggles. May looks at them fondly.

That night, after Peter has brushed his teeth and changed into his favorite Iron Man pajamas, May brushes his hair off his forehead and kisses his cheek as she’s tucking him in.

“Goodnight, Petey Pie,” Ben whispers from behind her. May takes Ben’s hand.

***

And then Peter wakes up.

He always wakes up.

His room at Stark Tower is the size of his old apartment, so full of empty corners and shadows that it makes him paranoid. He still hasn't decorated, so the walls are plain white. It feels like he’s drowning in his comforter.

It takes a moment for him to realize where he is. The emptiness comes, then. The feeling that he’s missing the biggest part of himself. Peter can still feel May’s kiss on his cheek and smell her coconut shampoo. If he concentrates, he can hear Ben’s faint voice, wishing him goodnight.

Sobs wrack his whole body, shaking his shoulders and rattling through his head. Peter curls in on himself and soaks his pillow, knowing they will never be there to comfort him again.

The happy nightmares are the worst, because he can push every building off his shoulders and he can defeat every otherworldly attacker, but no matter what he does, he can never get his aunt and uncle back.

****

The first thing Natasha asks when Peter stumbles into the kitchen at three in the morning is,

“What kind of tea do you like?”

Peter looks up, eyes red and stinging, still breathing hard. Nat smiles back softly, waiting for his answer.

“Orange spice, please,”

She nods and rips open a packet. Peter slumps on one of the stools next to the island.

“Want to talk about it?”  Nat asks while she fills the kettle with water. She looks more relaxed than usual in red pajama bottoms and an oversized black shirt instead of her usual

weapon-loaded bodysuit.

“.... Ben and May.” Peter mumbles. He avoids her eyes and instead stares out the floor-to-ceiling windows. He’s never noticed how bright the city looks at night.

Nat pours hot water into a mug with the Captain America shield on it. The tea bag floats to the top and slowly sinks back down, sending plumes of orange into the clear water. Nat waits until he’s taken a sip before asking, “Did I ever tell you about Phil Coulson?”

Peter shakes his head, “Who is he?”

“Phil helped train me when I was first recruited . He was one of my best friends at SHIELD. Coulson, Hill, Clint, and I. We were unstoppable. They were my family, for a little while,” She smiles, remembering.

He sadly realizes she’s talking in the past tense.

“What happened?” He questions tentatively.

“Loki. Coulson tried to stop him, but…well, a human against a god isn't a fair fight. The scepter went straight through his heart. We got to him too late,” her voice is matter-of-fact, like she’s describing the weather, but there’s a current of sadness under it all. Peter knows that forced-casual tone well.

“I’m sorry, Nat,” Peter whispers.

“Phil was one of the bravest people I knew. He joined SHIELD after his parents died,

because he wanted to make the world a better place. You remind me of him, you know,”

Peter looks up at her. “Why?”

“Not many people can see the things you have and choose to keep going. After everything, you’re still out there, fighting and protecting people, every day,”

Peter supposes this is true. But it's not like he can take credit. He doesn’t do it for himself.

“It’s not… There have been plenty of times I've wanted to give up. But, I can't. My uncle died trying to help someone. I owe it to him to continue what he started. He said to me, before he died, ‘with great power, there must also come great responsibility’. I've spent every day since then trying to live by that. I know It won’t change anything, or bring them back, but…I don't know,”

Natasha looks up at him. “Won't change anything? Маленький паук, you have helped all of us in more ways than i can count. I promise you, wherever your uncle is, he’s proud of you.

Peter blinks hard, a sudden wave of grief consuming him. He lets the tears spill. Natasha comes around the island and wraps her arms around him. She smells like lavender. Then Nat kisses his head, and something inside him dissolves. He can't tell if it's good or bad, but it makes him cry harder.

“I-I just miss them-” He chokes out between sobs. He thinks Natahsa is crying a little too.

“I know, Маленький паук,” She mumbles into his hair, “I know,”

Eventually, they move over to the living room and finish their tea. Peter talks about May and Ben, tells stories about holidays and trips to the science museum. Nat, in turn, tells him about living with Coulson and Hill and Clint, and later, funny stories about her time with the Avengers, before Sam and Peter and Wanda. They fall asleep on the couch together, Natasha’s arms still around his shoulders.

****

They wake up the next morning to find several snickering Avengers grouped around them. Nat glares at them all until they scatter, and the two snatch up plates of breakfast.

“Here, паук,” Nat says softly as she hands him his plate.

“Thanks, Aunt Nat,” He replies on refex. He see’s Nat’s eyes widen and turns away, smiling slightly.

His old family might be gone, but maybe, just maybe, he can make a new one, all on his own.

[stevetonyweekly]

SteveTony Weekly - July 10

Happy Sunday!! Here’s what I read this week. Be sure to leave your author a comment or kudos if you enjoy a story! 

***Marks my recent favorites 

~*~ 

champagne laughter by cryptidpoet

“I love you,” you huff out, half-breathless, half-laughing. You didn’t even mean to say it. But he’s attempting a turn, getting twisted in your arms, bright laughter in his eyes. It slipped out, but you meant it, and when he twists to stare at you, something akin to confusion skittering across his face, you say it again. “God, I love you, Harley.”

He lets your hand go, steps back, and at first your heart bursts, because he opens his mouth. But then he turns away, jerks out of your hand grabbing at his shoulder, and the look on his face-

Not horror, not hate. Not even sorrow. 

Just… 

You’re not actually sure.

can i go where you go? by meidui

Tony always imagines Steve with his shield.

Free Bird by Captain_Panda

"Lord, I can't change."

Steve loves the rough-and-tumble lifestyle of S.H.I.E.L.D. Tony is just there to sit back and watch the show.

Too bad there's no "viewing room only" in Steve Rogers' life. You either get in the ring or get out. Tony gets in the ring.

can we always be this close? by ArabellaAM, meidui

Tony shows up at Steve’s house in the middle of the night, tonight.

i'm yours, body and soul by meidui

When Tony wakes up in his husband's body at six in the morning hundreds of miles away from his conference, he almost puts a pillow over his head and goes back to sleep because, really, stranger things have happened.

Becoming Better by scifigrl47

Just a melancholy short story on July 4th, in honor of Steve's birthday, when the United States of America really isn't living up to Steve's expectations, or mine.

love me naked by meidui

What kind of man wears makeup? Steve thinks to himself.

polaroids on the hardwood floor by ohjustpeachy

"What were we thinking, partying all night? We're no spring chickens," Tony groans.

Steve follows him with his eyes, watching as he takes in the detritus of the birthday party the team had thrown for him today. Well, yesterday, technically, but it still feels like his birthday, sitting here with Tony in the quiet of the morning, the sun just peeking up at them over the horizon.

"Hey," Steve teases, poking Tony in the side. "Speak for yourself."

this wind won't blow our summer away by meidui

Tony plans himself a grand trip for his twenty-first birthday, but he doesn’t make it past Ireland.

dust off our new love by ArabellaAM

Tony’s clothes are full of dust when he finds the box.

the two of us by meidui

It's one of those summer afternoons that seem to glow forever and the two of them lay there on the floor of their treehouse, fingers sticky with melted ice cream from the parlour down the street, and Steve dares Tony to kiss him.

The Pleasure of the President by betheflame, FestiveFerret, starvels (dinosaur)

During an interminable meeting, Steve, Tony, and the dick of Tony's amour, take a lunch break.

Reach For You by hollyandvice (hiasobi_writes)

When Tony gets captured, Steve comes after him. The result is disastrous.

To the Future by Captain_Panda

Steve gets a promotion.

It brings out painful memories of what will never be. Tony helps remind him he's worthy of what is.

duck, duck, goose by meidui

Tony's a special kind of drunk at Pepper's pool party.

clint barton's backwards morning by meidui

Clint just wants to eat his sandwich and cookies and drink his milk, but Steve and Tony are acting weird.

On the Ropes by Captain_Panda

Tony Stark, present day, accidentally lands in a dying western town known as Timely, circa 1872.

He's about to meet the Sheriff, who doesn't take too kindly to strangers that don't recognize the law of the land.

Creating the Perfect Love by hollyandvice (hiasobi_writes)

When Tony can't find pleasure in sex with Steve after his Snap, he thinks his relationship with the great Captain is all over. How wrong he is.

I Know a Thing or Two About Bloodstains by hollyandvice (hiasobi_writes)

Steve hides in his room for three days after getting hit with an energy blast in a fight. Tony's worried, so he gets to the bottom of it.

Our Future History by ralsbecket

Tony glances up to the black chalkboard menu hanging above them, squinting at the neon chalk that's lit up with a blacklight. With a furrowed brow, he questions, “What the hell is a ‘blonde Americano’?”

“You’re lookin’ at him,” a voice chimes in. The man behind the counter throws Tony a lopsided grin, brushing his fingers through a head of silver strands. “Or, well, I used to be.”

Mr. Rogers by goobydooby

When single father Tony Stark hears his son Peter going on and on about his new Kindergarten teacher, Mr. Rogers, he'll be the first to admit that he thought of a friendly old guy, like the Mr. Rogers on TV. It’s safe to say he did not expect Mr. Rogers to be some twenty-something, all-American, blonde-haired, blue-eyed grade A hunk of beef. He especially did not expect said hunk to have a biting sense of humor or to care so much about their rag-tag family.

(( where Tony is a sleep-deprived single parent, Steve gets in over his head, and Peter insists on giving them both a heart attack ))

Earthbound by Captain_Panda

When Steve Rogers crash-lands the Valkyrie, his left leg is grievously injured. Help will not arrive for sixty-seven years.

Coping with a failing leg might make the rest of the twenty-first century seem almost easy.

Then he meets the rest of the Avengers, and things get really complicated.

[azira-fells]

tagged by: @wllbyers (ty Dani <3)

tea, coffee, or soda? coffee

dogs or cats? yes

can you play an instrument? does having once upon a time played piano, violin, and guitar as a kid but not having done so in years count?

what's your sun sign? Libra

first song lyrics that pop into your head? "deep in the meadow, under the willow; a bed of grass, a soft green pillow; lay down your head and close your eyes, and when they open, the sun will rise; here it's safe, here it's warm; here the daisies guard you from every harm; here your dreams are sweet, and tomorrow brings them true; here is the place where I love you"

do you have any tattoos? I have two, a captain america shield and the meteor from the final fantasy vii logo :) but I want to get more for sure!!!

favorite place you traveled? I miss living in Okinawa, tbh,,,,

what's the last movie you watched? The Hunger Games: Mockingjay part 1

what languages do you speak? English, and I plan on (re)learning Japanese

do you have any hobbies? writing, drawing, video games, roleplaying

you can hang out with one fictional character for an hour, who do you choose? either Bucky Barnes or uhhhh Aqua from Kingdom Hearts. just to get to meet them tbh

compliment yourself: I've come so far from where I used to be, mental health wise, and I'm thriving now and I should be proud of myself :)

tagging (with no obligation): @playablekairi , @judesstfrancis , @lightyourowntunnel , and anyone who wants to say I tagged them <3

[mistiell]

Hi

I just started following, but I would like an Arcane match-up (male character), if it's alright? I binged it 2 weeks ago after my brain decided it needed new blorbos

I am 26, she/her, nickname JCat. 155.5 cm tall (or a little over 5'1), fair-skinned with moles (but I call them [human] sum spots) stocky build and with fluff (I am a good pillow according to the animals and children that have fallen asleep ob me). Medium-length blonde hair and blue-gray eyes with green around the pupils. Wear glasses and have really poor eyesight (near-sighted)

Personality-wise: in character comparison, I am a genderbent, human Toothless from HTTYD, or a combo of Steve Rogers/Captain America and Loki from the MCU (or Phil Coulson if you've seen Agents of Shield). To clarify, I am a pretty friendly and easy-going person, with a streak of mischief. I tend to be a mom-friend in a sense that I make sure that my friends take care of themselves and give good advice (compliment from my friends). While mostly someone who entertains, I can be quite the trickster should the need arise. But I often try to stay within my morals and make sure I don't intentionally hurt those on my side.

While very good with kids (which is why my mom got me working at a daycare for about 3 years) I don't want my own, due to fear of pregnancy and my driven need to venture out and explore the world. But when it comes down to it, I'd probably adopt an orphan if I've taken a big liking to them.

I'd honestly be the Golden Retriever gf ✨️

Likes include: mythologies, animals, cuddles, adventures, sci-fi, magic/fantasy, plushies, D&D (or any Pen and Paper); LOTR, MCU, HTTYD, Star Wars, and Pokemon are my big main fandoms. I adore the A Capella group Voiceplay.

Dislikes: people being taken advantaged of, narrow minded people...well just people being negative, neglectful, and/or abusive towards each other and nature

A few last notes: I have depression and anxiety, social introvert, neutral good alignment (with some chaos), INFP, Ennegram Type 7.

Hope this helps with the match-up

Have a wonderful month

Urfriendlyneighbornightfury

I match you with…

Viktor!

- You guys would be such a great fit

- He’s also into mythology and sci-fi stuff so you guys would have lots to talk about!

- He’s never had much of an interest in fantasy type things, but it wouldn’t take much convincing to get him to read your favourite fantasy book

- Definitely gets him hooked on the genre

- He considers it a guilty pleasure (even though you have told him several times that it’s not something to be guilty for)

- His response is always, “But Darling, I’m a man of science!”

- You’re both mischievous

- Jayce has his hands full whenever you drop by the lab

- He’s not great with kids, but he’s also not bad with them either

- It’s more that he just has no idea what to do with them

- He he’s honestly pretty indifferent towards having kids. If you don’t want them, he’s totally fine with that

- Most of your dates would probably be something cozy where it’s just you two since you both don’t like going out very much

- He finds your desire to care for your friends and loved ones endearing

- He can’t count how many times you check in on him throughout the day and he’s always grateful when you bring him something to eat when he’s forgotten.

- He does his best to help you through your rough patches with anxiety and depression

- reads up on it and researches different coping strategies

- He loves how excited you get about your interests and will absolutely listen to you and ask questions

[the-sappho-of-lesbos]

Seeing all those teenage dirtbag videos is so funny to me

Because when I was a teenager I had a captain America decked out room , including kids toys and a shield back pack I took to school (also let’s not talk about the pencil case, stationary set, necklace etc), an anime body pillow and anime shirts (+ anime hair clip) as well as a pile of gay literature I was probably too young to be reading