#sam wilson blurbs

[notafunkiller]

best daddy ever

Summary: When Sam drops by unannounced, he discovers something new about Bucky.

Pairing: thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: teasing, pet names, daddy kìnk, language, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 1K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I really hope you’ll enjoy it!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

“You know that’s not funny, right?”

You giggle when you hear his broody tone as you make your way to the kitchen. You don’t realize that his words are not directed at you until you almost have a heart attack.

Of course you scream in shock when you see Sam sitting casually at your table while Bucky is leaning against the fridge with his arms crossed.

He immediately rushes toward you, though, when you place a hand on your chest. Your heart is beating so fast.

“Are you okay, honey?”

The way he casually wraps his arm around your waist casually to pull you closer in front of Sam makes you melt. You might never get used to him initiating PDA, but it makes you really happy.

“I’m okay, I’m sorry for screaming.”

You know he’s about to scold you for apologizing, but thankfully Sam speaks first.

“Hi, cutie. No worries, I came to annoy your tinman.”

You don’t even have to look at Bucky to know he’s rolling his eyes, his grip tightening on your hip as he groans.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call her that?”

“So you don’t think she’s cute?”

You bring your hand to his chest just to distract him a bit. Sam loves to push his buttons almost as much as you do.

“Yeah, James, don’t you?”

You know you’re playing with fire after earlier, but it’s too fun not to. Especially when he gives you that look... you’re in trouble look. And you love to be in trouble with him.

“Get out of our house, Cap, so I can show her exactly how cute I think she is.”

Neither of you expected this since you both gasped. Bucky is sassy, that’s for sure, but you didn’t anticipate this type of casual sexual innuendo comment. Because he meant sex, right? There is no way he didn’t unless he is cruelly teasing you in vain.

“Guess the Winter Soldier is not so wint-” But Sam doesn’t finish his sentence, throwing his hands in the air in defense while still laughing when Bucky looks at him again. “Glad it still works, I was a little worried.”

“No need to worry, Sam, I promise.“ You smirk, patting Bucky’s ass twice before going to the coffee maker, stealing a whine out of him. “Want to stay for breakfast?”

“No,” Bucky answers for him, and you roll your eyes. You know Sam doesn’t mind his attitude because he’s known him for a long time, but you still want to be a good host.

“I can make crepes if you-”

“Doll, please.”

Sam looks at Bucky, then at you, and winks, smiling widely. “I’m leaving, I’m leaving. But don’t forget what I told you and stay out of trouble.“

It’s too vague for you to understand, so you’ll just wait for Sam to be gone to interrogate Bucky.

“Goodbye, Cap.”

And there he is, softer Bucky. You grab a cup for him too, and he smiles. You’ve never seen a more beautiful man in your entire life. He is magnetic and charming, and you feel like kissing him all the time. You don’t know how you managed to get him as your boyfriend, but you’re grateful.

“What is this? Oh my god, you kinky old man!”

Confused, you immediately make your way to the living room, following Bucky. You don’t know what Sam could have seen to say that, and you definitely didn’t expect him to hold Bucky’s cap in both of his hands, analyzing it. Your gift... Shit!

“Best. Daddy. Ever?”

You close your eyes, embarrassed, but Bucky, surprisingly, doesn’t seem to feel the same way. You don’t sense any shame or change in his vibes or posture. He simply stares at Sam as usual and snatches the cap from his hands.

“That’s mine.”

“I realized, daddy.” Sam can’t stop laughing even when he turns his head toward you. But when he sees you all serious, his face drops. “Or do you mean…”

“Mean what?“ You snap, a bit annoyed about the fact you two got busted in such a stupid way. And it’s all Bucky’s fault since he’s the one who left it there.

Only when Sam lowers his eyes to your belly, do you realize what he means.

“No, she’s not pregnant, idiot!”

“So you really have a fucking daddy kink? How do you even know-“ He stops mid-sentence, still totally taken aback, and Bucky sneaks behind you to open the entrance door. “How did you manage to corrupt this old man?”

You can’t help but laugh this time. If only he knew the truth...

Bucky puffs, pushing Sam out. “Goodbye, Sam!”

Thankfully, before Bucky could close the door in his face, you manage to say goodbye and wave:

“Trust me, I was not the one doing the corruption with this.”

You wish you could see Sam’s face. What a loss!

“He won’t stop talking about this, you know that, right?”

“You’re the one who left it here, so blame yourself.”

You take the cap from the table, where he put it, and walk straight to him, getting on your tiptoes before placing it on his head. Bucky looks at you with a mix of surprise and amusement as you adjust the cap to sit just right. He is the best daddy ever, indeed. If Sam heard how dirty Bucky could get during sex, he’d die. Contrary to what he believed, Bucky is the one who came up with this whole daddy thing while you were in the middle of fucking raw, right after he finished a mission. It rolled shyly but naturally of his tongue, and of course you liked it. You love calling him daddy even if you do it just to tease him. But it must be so hard, probably, for Sam to picture this mountain of a man, quiet but also sassy, knowing his past, like this.

“You’re staring.” Bucky smirks, and you feel your knees weakening. God, that smile! “And you’re horny.”

“What if I am? Gonna take care of me, daddy?”

[cillianate]

dancin' round the kitchen, in the refrigerator light.

(gif is not mine, credit to owner!!!)

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

warnings: smoking (don't smoke, say no to drugs kids!!), nightmares, slight nudity, a mention of cancer, mentions of torture, mentions of murd3r, pretty much everything winter soldier.

summary: bucky wakes up in the middle of the night after a nightmare and aches to hold his girlfriend.

content type: blurb, one-shot

The bright red text on the digital clock read- 2:37 AM. Bucky sat up panting, his chest gleamed with sweat. As he breathed heavily, he became suddenly aware of the non-existent mellow breathing that would usually calm him down in a time like this. You weren't there. As he patted around the bed looking for you, he became increasingly worried.

Just as he got out of the bed to rummage the apartment for you, a cough comes from your balcony. Realization crossed over him. He padded his way over, donning only blue and white checkered boxers.

There you were, sitting on the railing of the balcony that over looked Brooklyn, a cigarette lodged between your index and middle finger. Your body was covered in goosebumps, made more prominent by your lack of clothing. Only your underwear and Bucky's 'The Smiths, Hatful of Hollow' T-Shirt covered your figure.

"Doll," he said, his voice coming out frailer than he had intended, "why are you up?"

"Buck. Sorry, did I wake you?" You had said, immediately putting out your cigarette.

"No its fine. I just had a nightmare. Woke up and you were gone." He calmed you. He strode to you slowly, planting his hands on your hips once he reached you.

"Oh, i'm so sorry, babe. Do you want to talk about it?" You apologized, gladly embracing him when he folded his head into your neck. The scruf he had grown over the last few months ticked your soft skin, making you let out a soft breath.

"No, it's fine. Same as usual, y'know? I get tortured, I kill someone. Whatever. Just wanted to hold you." He spoke, his deep voice rang through your body.

"It's not nothing, James. But I won't pester you. I'm here now for all of your holding needs." You responded. His eyes now looked into yours as he had separated his head from your neck.

He brought your foreheads together and said, "You should quit, those things are cancer machines."

"I know." And that was that. It was a conversation that had been brought up before, but the idea had always been that, an idea.

There, in the crisp fall air, Bucky held you for what felt like hours. The cold left both you long ago, the others body heat warming their counterpart plenty. The pair of you swayed back and forth as a silent oath of "I have you, and we'll be alright."

"We should head inside, just because I can't get sick doesn't mean I want you getting pneumonia." He said as he grabbed your rosy hand.

"But Buck, i'm not tired." You whined, as he all but dragged you back into the loft apartment.

"Well I didn't say we had to sleep, now did I, doll?" He said smugly, that smirk you'd come to know so well stretching over his tan face.

Bucky let go of your hand as he flicked on the small stereo that had found its place on your counter many months ago.

The soft lullaby of 'Graceland Too' by Phoebe Bridgers graced your ears, being the last song you had listened to from yours and Bucky's mix tape.

Bucky grabbed your waist softly, pulling you into his chest. You wrapped your arms gracefully around his neck as he swayed you slightly to the music.

For the next hour, you and Bucky danced around in the kitchen illuminated by the refrigerator light. Your serene moment soundtrack to songs you adored such as: All I Need To Hear by The 1975, False God by Taylor Swift, and Smoke Signals by Phoebe Bridgers. And though Bucky refused to admit he listened to anything other than Louis Armstrong, he silently loved them too.

Actually, he loved everything you loved. He loved you. He would shout it from any rooftop without being asked. You were his lifeline. The moment he met you, he promised himself he'd do anything to be able to hold you. Now that he could, he wouldn't be silent about it. And he wasn't.

"I love you." He whispered into your hair as he lulled you into relaxation.

"I love you too, Buck."

[rassvetsky]

On a Leash

sam wilson x reader

"Even when everything goes downhill, Sam knows that a night spent in his arms with an episode or two of Friends might fix the gloom. Only this time, your way of thanking him was long overdue and much appreciated."

[2k] | friends to lovers, stressed out reader, playful banter, sam being a total angel (i really need this man in my life tbh), soft kisses :(, making out, lowkey getting caught but it's funny so. yes. enjoy this mess

reblog and/or like for a kiss, feedback much appreciated! not proofread.

This whole mission was a disaster. At least on your end. 

Witnesses refused to talk to you for some reason, your gun got jammed right in the middle of combat and caused you to take some nasty blows, and on top of all that, Steve & Bucky decided to leave you and Sam behind in Europe just so you could play side-kick while he gained further intel. 

You felt useless, and frustrated. 

You plopped down on the chair by the side of the wall, 70 year old wallpaper of the shitty motel making you roll your eyes. Anything could annoy you at that point. Pointing your still jammed handgun towards a safe direction, you quickly removed the magazine, and started to rack the slide over and over, until the jammed round finally fell off.

"As long as they don't charge us extra for a hole in that shitty wall," you heard Sam speak, tone soft, before heaving a sigh. You didn't hear him come out of the bathroom, where he was taking a shower. "What's got you so hot and bothered?" 

"Seriously? Are you being for real?" you snapped right back, setting the gun down on the small table with a sigh before letting your elbows fall on your knees. "The whole op was shit." 

"It so wasn't," he shook his head before walking over to the bed, not too far away from where you were seated. He plopped down on the mattress with a sigh before shrugging. "You remind me of Bucky when you're grumpy like that." 

"I'm not grumpy."

"Go look in the mirror. All Barnes no L/N." he chuckled to himself, but that chuckle died down quickly when you didn't react at all. 

He wasn't used to that. Sure, you could be a bit of a grump sometimes, but all it took was a joke or two to coax you out of it and bring you back to your senses. You looked like you were on the verge of tears and that sent Sam into a state of panic, as he cleared his throat and locked eyes with yours. "You wanna talk about it?" 

"No." 

"You're saying no now, but I know you're gonna start running that mouth at three hundred miles per hour as soon as I decide to go to sleep." 

"Sam," you sighed. "I know you mean well but you really gotta learn how to shut up sometimes." 

"That was real Barnes-" 

"Sam." 

"Right. Sorry." he nodded slowly, knowing he shouldn't take it personally. Stress got to you sometimes, and the way things didn't go your way at all during the mission must've only added to it. Pulling the blanket over himself, he watched as you heaved a sigh and kept staring at the ground. "Wanna watch Friends?" 

You thought about it for a second, without instantly dismissing it. Sam took your silence as an opportunity. "I promise I won't clap along to the intro and wake you up this time." 

With no words, you got up from where you were seated, only to push Sam a bit to make up some space for you to lay on. The bed was unfortunately a single, so this would be a tight squeeze if you wanted to lay comfortably but Sam, being the absolute gentleman he is, made sure to be on the verge of falling out of the bed just so you could have your space. Propping his phone up, he scrambled to put on a random episode, as you laid by his side with your head against his shoulder- a warm sigh leaving your lips. 

It was after two episodes that you started feeling a bit lighter, through the short laughs the two of you let out- and right as he was about to put on the third, you got a soft hold on his wrist, causing him to look at you. "Enough?" 

"No, not that." you huffed out, slowly pulling away from him to get a better look at his face. "I lashed out at you like an asshole and you're still being nice to me." 

A soft smile took over him at that. "You didn't mean to." he shrugged, setting the phone down on the nightstand just so you knew that his whole attention was on you. "I know how hard it is to be in this world. To always be in a conflict bigger than you. To have this responsibility. And it doesn't even pay well, I mean, where's my Caribbean getaway?" 

You let out a quiet chuckle. 

"We're taught to not let things out. Taught to keep the blood, sweat and tears in. Taught to man up- and that's such bullshit. That's the biggest trauma." his tone audibly softened when you curled up against him again. "I'm not gonna be an asshole to you when all you're doing is lettin' your feelings out. Whether it's through breaking a vase or two, or crying- I'm always here for you to lean on. 'Cause you've been there for me." 

"This feels like a premade Support Group speech." 

"Might've stolen a line or two from my former speeches," he chuckled. "Just- don't worry about it, 'kay? And trust me, I wouldn't even call that 'lashing out'. You ever been yelled at by Bucky Barnes during therapy?" 

Your bright laugh was enough to fill him up to the brim with happiness, as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and let his lips fall against your hair. This was new- this type of intimacy. Sure, spending hours all cuddled up was something the two of you have grown used to, but Sam never wanted more in his life than to hold you close against his chest until the sunrise before. 

You reached up a bit, until you could cup his cheek with your palm. Dark brown orbs stared right into your soul, you felt, seeing through every single secret you held. The smile on your lips said it all- but you needed to voice it out, you had to. "I'm so glad you're a part of this bullshit. Couldn't have done anything without you, really." 

"Obviously. I'm the only smart one in the team." his snicker was short-lived as you reached in to press your lips right against the corner of his, letting them stay there for a second before pulling away. He could feel them linger there, the spot burning up with an invisible flame which you ignited. His smile was almost idiotic, in terms of width. "Damn."

"Damn?" 

"Right after I give a speech 'bout letting your feelings rise to the surface," he shook his head, teasingly. "You're still not kissing me properly when you wanna." 

"How are you so sure I want to kiss you, smart-ass?" you quipped, the grin on your lips giving away the playful nature. 

"Because this feeling, it just has to be mutual, Y/N." a deep sigh left him. "Can't be the only one having a heart attack all the damn time. That smile of yours? You gotta put it on a leash." 

And you two just laughed, softly, teeth showing. No sign of hard feelings, no pressure, no worries. Just the two of you, curled up on a single bed with a shitty mattress that made a noise each time you moved around, the scent of molding walls which was probably dangerous but you didn't mind. The two of you against the universe when you finally kissed him, no rush in sight he melted right into it, taking it slow and steady just to savor the moment. Just in case he wouldn't get to do it again. 

You maneuvered on top of him then, and he even took a moment to pull the blanket up your thighs again- like a gentleman. You smiled against his lips, palms cupping his face and caressing his cheeks, the soft stubble that he was too lazy to shave off earlier, the hum of appreciation that left him when you moved closer to his chest. His arms were everywhere and nowhere all at once, one second wrapping around you tightly, taking the other to slip under the thin material of your shorts through your thighs, but nothing too immoral. 

You pulled away for air after a while, a soft gasp from his side making you chuckle and bite your lower lip. "We definitely waited too long for this." 

"All it took was a goddamn support speech. You should've joined those sessions, the storeroom is usually empty, we could've just locked the door and-" 

You shushed him with another kiss, this time shorter, earning an eye roll from him. "Three hundred miles per hour, you said?" 

"You're gettin' me all nervy. Can't really blame me for that now, can you?" 

"Well," you hummed, gestures all teasing. "We're taught to not talk, taught to keep the words in…" 

"Oh shut the hell up, get your own support speech." 

That must've been the best sleep you've gotten in over a century. You woke up with a smile on your lips and the weight of Sam's arm by your waist, your back flush to his chest and his breaths steady. 

Too steady to be asleep. You shared a room with this man for months, he usually snores like a-

"Good morning?" 

"Why did that sound like a question?" you croaked, smiling to yourself with your eyes still closed. 

"Felt like a creep just waiting for you to wake up. I got up to pee earlier and then didn't know what to do with myself so just got back to bed, I don't-" 

You slowly shuffled around in his hold, turning just enough to be able to press a kiss against his lips. "How'd you sleep?" 

"Like a log." he hummed, forehead against yours. "Literal log. Steve could split me in two and I wouldn't bat an eye." 

"You could also split me in two, I wouldn't complain." 

"Watch it," his laugh mirrored yours. "Wanna get breakfast?"

"Kinda expected you to bring that to bed." 

"I could have my breakfast on this very bad, don't know about you though-" 

"Watch it." 

"Sure, sure." 

Sam was a man of his word. 

Because weeks later, right at the Department of Veterans Affairs, he was busy locking the door of the storeroom, as you sat on a few stacked boxes, legs dangling in silent excitement. "Alright, now I need you to be real quiet," he whispered, before making his way over to you again, taking his spot right in between your thighs before tugging you a bit closer and cutting off your giggling fit with his lips. Your arms were around his neck tightly as if on instinct, legs tugging him closer and closer until he was flush against you. It was bordering dangerous, how your tongue grazed against his, and his teeth caught your lower lip just to elicit a sound and it was all just a hot mess; but neither of you could complain. 

He took notice of the way you oh so subtly grinded against him, your lips traveling down to his neck to give him the attention he certainly deserves. Soft nips met kitten licks against the soft skin, and the sigh he let out was to die for. But before he could do anything to return the favor, a knock on the door was heard, as you slowly raised your gaze up to him like a deer at headlights. 

"Mr. Wilson? If you and your wonderful girlfriend could give me a second, I'm just gonna grab the mop real quick." 

His annoyed gaze had you pressing your palm against your lips to stifle a giggle, as you reached in to kiss his cheek. He was the most beautiful, a grin lingering on his lips even though he looked like he was a second away from a temper tantrum, and he could probably say the same. The way you looked up at him as if he hung the moon, with that playful smile and those gentle eyes that he would take a bullet or two for… He was-

Another knock. "I know you're in there. I saw you go in and had a mental breakdown over the fact that I really need that mop." 

[velvetcloxds]

if you're too shy- send me a character and a scenario and I'll write a little baby blurb for it

sam wilson + fake dating bc reader's parents really just won't leave her alone or the reader really needs a plus one at her cousin's wedding and also bc the reader doesn't want to be teased about how she "can't get some"

WHAT FRIENDS ARE FOR | S.W.

word count: 0.6k

warnings: two oblivious idiots, pretend sam isn't outside in the gif lol

"I'm sure they didn't mean it like that," you're pacing, missing the sympathetic smile on your best friend's lips as he watches you from your couch, cold beer in hand as he waits for a reply, knowing you're not even truly listening to him.

"Like why would they assume that I'm coming alone? Is it really that unbelievable that I could find a plus one?" you paused, eyeing Sam for his reaction, pouting at him, silently begging him to set your mind at ease. "I could, couldn't I?" his eyes were soft as he nodded at you, beer abandoned on the coffee table, hand gently taking hold of your wrist to pull you towards him.

"Of course, you could, baby," he was convincing, the friendly nickname aiding in his plea as he guided you to sit down on the table in front of him, thumb brushing over your pulse point in an attempt to keep you settled long enough to actually hear what he's saying. "Look at me," he insisted with a little scoff, waiting ever patiently for you to stop being stubborn and meet his gaze and it took a second, a minute, but you finally looked up from your knees, pout very present still as you did. "Don't let this get to you so much, you could get any guy you want if you tried."

"Oh, I'm sure."

"Well, I am," he wasn't pleased with your objection, finding it very much offensive that you'd question his word when he considered himself a very honest and straightforward man, very rarely wrong but he'd never tell you that. "You want me to go with you? Haven't been to a wedding in forever, plus the world should get the chance to appreciate my dancing."

"I don't want a pitty date, Sammy," you sighed, carelessly taking his hand into your lap, fiddling with his fingers, tracing the lines on his palm, something you would've questioned in its casualty if you weren't so comfortable with him. "I want someone to want to go on a date with me because they like me, maybe cause they find me pretty."

"I like you," he argued with a scoff. "And I think you're way past pretty," he added and you were the one to scoff, narrowing your eyes at him, demanding some contradiction to his statement and receiving none as he shrugged. "Come on, you know I like seeing you all dolled up and looking fine, it'll do my ego good being seen with a stunner like you," his tone was teasing yet the way his eyes roamed your features made it clear that he was sincere. After all, you were his girl in every way but the way he wanted, his best friend, his human, the only person he'd be caught being so soft with, and even though he always thought there was more there, he wasn't going to force it, not until you showed any sign of wanting the same.

"You know my mom already thinks we're secretly hooking up," you mentioned and he shrugged again, smiling as you looked down shyly, heat rising up your neck at how casual he was being about this. "The rest of them would eat their hearts out at the sight of someone as good-looking as you walking in with me," you were starting to cave, seeing the pros to this little ruse and selfishly, you always enjoyed the way Sam pulled you just a little too close while dancing with you.

"So, you going to let me take you then? I'll buy you a corsage and everything," he offered and you laughed, not fighting against the grip that pulled you onto his lap, booping your nose as you giggled.

"That's for prom, Sammy, not for a wedding," you smiled, content as his arms wrapped around you in a platonic embrace, a comfortable position as you reached over to bring his beer back to him. "Will you go dress shopping with me too?" you quipped, watching with curious eyes as he took a slow sip, following his adam's apple as he swallowed, cursing the way it made your stomach flutter.

"Course, I will, you could give me a little fashion show while you fit them."

"Then yes, you can definitely be my date."

[ghostofskywalker]

Omg can I have a drabble of Sam Wilson with love confessions (very soft, very fluffy)

this is a contender for the softest thing i've written in a while, i hope you enjoy :)

words: 486

sam wilson masterlist

An outstretched hand appeared in your field of vision, and you looked up to see Sam smiling at you. “You promised me you would dance at least one time tonight,” he said. “And so far I haven’t seen you out there once.” 

“I can’t get anything past you, can I?” you asked, playfully raising your eyes at him. 

Of course not. I know everything.”

You laughed. “So you know that I have no idea how to slow dance?” It was that part of the night where the DJ was playing nothing but ballads and softer, slower music, and even if you had wanted to dance, you had no idea how to do it without stepping on anyone’s feet. That, and you would have needed someone to dance with. 

“Then it’s a good thing I know how to slow dance then,” he said, reaching down to grab your hand and pull you to a standing position. “Come on, it’s not that difficult.” 

If it was anyone else on the team you might have offered more resistance to the idea, but Sam was your best friend, and there wasn’t anyone else you trusted more than him. He even acted graciously as you stepped on his feet a few times by accident (you weren’t kidding when you said you didn’t really know how to dance). 

For the first time all night, you felt at ease. These types of fancy gala events were not your thing, but it was a requirement to attend some of them (the Avengers’ PR director, had made you a list of which ones you had to attend). Dancing with Sam made you smile, and you told yourself it was because you were simply friends with him, but you knew that your real feelings were a little stronger than that. 

He held his arm out and guided you into a spin at the end of the song, and for a moment you were worried that you would fall over and embarrass yourself in front of everyone, but thankfully that didn’t happen. As you moved closer and closer to him again, you couldn’t hold in your feelings any longer. “I love you,” you said quietly. 

If he didn’t return your feelings, you would have to move out to Iceland and become a sheep farmer, but it seemed that this time you were safe from that kind of nomadic lifestyle. “I love you too,” he responded, his hands finding your waist and pulling you slightly closer to him. When his lips finally landed on yours, you decided that you never wanted to forget this feeling. 

Even before you broke apart you could hear the whoops and cheers of the onlookers around you, and there was certainly a part of you that was embarrassed for making a scene, but you couldn’t really bring yourself to be too annoyed about it, especially after Sam leaned in and kissed you again.

[babyjakes]

one boy's hero. [blurb.]

[disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog’s commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here.]

event masterlists | nyx's half, eun's half

summary | riley's dad is his biggest hero, in every way imaginable.

featured from the wilson family | sam wilson (dad), riley wilson (8 year old son)

warnings | just very sweet and cute and fluffy :'-) i love sam dad a whole lot holy moly, also he named his son after riley<3<3

an | starting this special event off with something sweet and special, for one of my absolute favs— sam <3 this is my first time writing for him, so i hope i did him justice! just the thought of him having a son who looks up to him so much made me sooo soft, hope you guys like this one and enjoy the rest of the event :'-)<3!!!

As he stood before his third-grade class, his little notecards shaking in his hands from excitement, Riley could hardly contain the smile on his face. Standing beside him, as steady a presence as always, Sam was doing everything he could to keep from tearing up. Placing a hand on his son's shoulder, he gave him a smile as the small boy looked back up at him with an indescribable sense of pride shining in his gaze.

Turning back to face his class, Riley cleared his throat before beginning, "My name's Riley, and my special person is my dad." The kids ooh'd and ahh'd in their seats, some of them recognizing him from his line of work. "He's an Avenger!" a young boy from the second row blurted, earning a gentle hush from the teacher. "Yeah, I know," Riley laughed, "Pretty cool, right? Lots of you've probably seen him on TV— to everyone else, he's the Falcon. But to me, he's just Dad." The sweet boy turned to give his father a side hug, earning 'aww's from the audience as Sam fussed his hair playfully.

Trying to refocus on the little speech he'd written, Riley then turned back to his notecards. "My dad is a superhero at work, but to me, what really makes him a hero is all the other stuff he does. Before joining the Avengers, he was a pa-ra-res-cue man in the Air Force," he sounded out his words, "and at home, he takes care of me and my sisters and Mama– and he's the best dad ever." Hearing this little presentation for the first time, Sam couldn't help but gulp down a batch of tears, his heart swelling warmly with pride. "When I grow up, I wanna be just like him: smart, kind, and always ready to help others."

At the conclusion of the speech, the class erupted in cheers. A round of praise could be heard through the room as the pair earned a standing ovation, "Wow, Sam's awesome!" "I wanna join the Air Force too!" "I wish my dad was a superhero!"

Sweeping little Riley up off the floor in a giant bear hug, Sam held his boy close as he whispered in his ear, "That was awesome, bud. I'm so proud of you."

"Proud of you too, Dad," Riley breathed into his dad's embrace, "always proud of you."

"Thank you, Riley. Class, would anyone like to ask Mr. Wilson a question?" the teacher cut in, nearly every hand in the room shooting up in the air. Chuckling at the class's enthusiasm, she turned to Riley and offered, "Riley, would you like to call your friends?"

"Sure!" the boy was pleased to agree. First he chose a girl sitting in the front row, whose eyes went wide with excitement at being selected to ask the hero a question.

"Hi Mr. Wilson!" she beamed, earning a friendly smile from the man, "My question is: who is your favorite Avenger?"

.・。.・゜ ✫ ・.・✫・゜・。.

[cornbreadbatter]

Leah Gets Micro Braids

Sam Wilson x OC

Recently Leah and Sam have been rewatching Moesha and Leah has been dropping hints about getting micro braids.

"Don't you think I'd look good in micros? I haven't had any since middle school"

"Please don't. I had to help Sarah remove hers in Highschool. I can't do that again I just can't." Sam shudders just thinking about it

"It's ok babes I can just pay my braider to take them out"

*3 months after getting micro braids*

Heyyy Boo......... Her heart drops

"Shit!"

As soon as Leah got that "hey boo" text, she started plotting on how could she convince Sam to help take down her braids.

-2 hours later-

"What is her car still doing here? I damn well that it takes well over 2 hours to take out micro braids" Sam mumbles to himself

When the smell of Leah's Salted Caramel Peach Cobbler hits Sam's nose he already knows she's trying to butter him up.

Heyy there Captain *Leah says as she akwardly salutes him*

"Leah why did you make peach cobbler ? The only time u bake this is for my birthday, Thanksgiving or when you done fucked up. " Sam says with his arms crossed

"WHAT! NO! Wow so I can't spoil my beauuutifullllll boyfriend"

"Leah😐"

"ok fine...*sighs* my braider cancelled my appointment. Can you help me with my pleassseeee" all while trying to look as sad as possible

"Please Sam. They're falling off the bone and my scalp has so much build up from edge control and-"

"Ok fine but just know you owe me more than cobbler"

"Yay!!!!" Leah jumps up and kisses Sam all over his face

*Kiss*Thank*kiss* you *kiss* you're *kiss* the *kiss* best *kiss*

"Yeah yeah" Sam mumbles while mentally preparing for the next couple of hours, hell it might be days.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

Main acc: @princesscornbread

Writer's notes: This is something quick n fun ignore any mistakes.

[turtles-alphabet]

Lost & Found WIP

SamBucky Cabin fic Hydra AU

The sun beat down on them from between the trees, sweat coating them from the intensity. The shrubbery littered on the ground crunching under their soles as they dragged themselves forward. 

“Just a little longer.” Sam groaned, “The cabin should be up ahead.” 

Bucky sighed, his body heavy with exhaustion. Sam had said the cabin was only a few paces away from the waterfall, but the more they walked, the more he was convinced they were lost. 

“Didn’t you say that last time?” Bucky muttered, annoyance clear in his tone. 

Sam turned slightly to face him while keeping his pace, “Yeah, yeah, but I swear we're almost there this time.” He turned back towards the towering trees, occasionally checking his watch for the time. 

He could have sworn he knew where the cabin was, but as he kept walking, he became more unsure of where they were going. The trip was supposed to be short and simple. A hike into the woods, a little splashing around in the waterfall, and then spending the night in the cabin. 

Instead, he’s pretty sure he’s gotten lost.

It’s fair to assume that Hydra doesn’t give vacations out to just anyone, especially not assets. Sam suspects Hydra is planning a big mission and is hoping to boost morale. Otherwise, the whole Alpha team wouldn’t be having a day off to themselves. 

Sam had thought he had everything under control; After all, he did plan it. 

Sam decided everything from the clothes they would wear to the spot they would swim. The only reason he decided against bringing their gear was for maximum comfort. 

Now that he’s most definitely gotten them lost, Hydra will never let them on another vacation. 

Bucky pulled on Sam’s shoulder, bringing him to a quick stop.

“We’re not there yet Sam. What’s going on?” Bucky murmured, lifting a brow, afraid of the worst.

Sam looked around, tense, as he tried to figure out how to tell Bucky the uncomfortable truth.

“Well…” Sam trailed off, eyebrows furrowed as he looked past Bucky.

“What.” Bucky barked out, impatient.

“We’re lost.” Sam rushed out quickly, his eyes quickly glancing around his surroundings. 

Bucky’s mouth opened and closed periodically before he could speak.

“What?” Bucky whispered, putting a hand in his hair while pacing.

“We’re–” Sam briefly started.

“I know!” Bucky yelled, exasperated. He tried to formulate plans and think about how this could’ve happened. He thought Sam knew everything about this place. This was why he always made the plans, he was thorough.

“I can already see those gears moving in a direction I don’t like.” Sam whispered out angrily.

“Yeah well, you could’ve done a better job planning, you idiot!” Bucky bit out.

Sam pointed a finger towards Bucky, pacing towards him. “Hey, now. Don’t go blaming me. I planned everything out! Something just went a bit wrong.” Sam started, getting louder with each breath. 

“We can fix this.” Sam repeated while pacing around Bucky.

“Maybe…” Bucky trailed off.

[mannien]

Recon the Power

Happy Birthday @real-jane ! I’ve been working on this piece way past your Birthday in my time zone, but I know that it’s still your day back where you are from, so please - accept my most honest and best wishes! 🥳 I made it a goal to publish something for your challenge on your Birthday, to celebrate you and give you a little gift from me. I went definitely overboard and wrote much more than I intended. It’s also the first time I’ve written anything in a while, so it may be a little rusty and faulty here and there. But it’s made with love, curiosity, and passion - just like I see your works! Mine is all over the place, but that’s how I am now. I hope I can edit it someday and show you some progress! Please accept my entry for your Escape Challenge. I hope it will not be the only entry, and that it just sparked my creativity. 

Pairing: TFATWS!Bucky x OC!Leah Novak, Sam Wilson x Leah (platonically)

Word count: 4k

Summary: Bucky, Sam and Leah (witch!OC) attend a socialite Halloween Party to get intel about the Power Broker.

Warnings: blood, cobwebs, descriptions of Halloween decor, smut (allusions to sex, fingering, dry humping), death, some violence, alcohol, adult themes

(The pic below was found on Google, if you feel like it’s yours, do let me know, I’ll credit you)

           None of them were heading into the most elitist Halloween party by choice, but the name Power Broker among the rumoured guests was too hard to pass. The task seemed simple: find the snitch who gave the Madripoor’s ruler leverage over governors and senators that played key roles in the upcoming military distribution of the US forces. Sam and Joaquin called it a simple recon, Bucky swore on his arm that they will become political puppets soon, and Leah willingly tagged along, promising that it’s just a precaution measure.

           Hotel Royal was a private property in New Jersey, owned by the former mayor. It was known for its seasonal banquets and themed parties for politicians, executives, and celebrities. In essence, the place reeked of money, gossip, and underground exchanges of power. It made them all hesitate before leaving the car and leaving it with Torres, who was supposed to be their eyes of the inside, and surrounding area during their stay. The three was left with nothing but a long red carpet stretching into the reception desk.

           They checked into a large suite on the third floor. The large, golden number 33 on the door was smeared with fake blood, and the doorknob sprayed with sticky webs that would make Spider-Man roll his eyes in embarrassment. The room itself, just like the whole hotel, looked like the time stopped in the golden era of elite cocktail parties. Dark wood furniture, golden handles, patterned walls and Parisian windows would make it a good romantic spot for a weekend getaway, only if it wasn’t crowded with the money laundering underground societies. The charm would still be there with the fake pumpkins on the tables, but Sam decided to lay out his tactical gear on the couch before dressing up. So much for a cute room from époque.

           “Remember, this is just to get information. We’re not engaging until absolutely necessary,” Sam’s decisive voice echoed through the suite, reaching down to the bathroom and the second room. Bucky walked back to him, buttoning his black shirt. “Eat, talk, be all ears.”

           “You don’t have to remind me what a recon is.”

           “I know. I wasn’t talking to you.” He nodded pointedly to the bathroom, when the makeup bag landed on the floor with a moderate thump.

           “If this is an easy recon, then why Torres is lurking around the building and we’re wearing those tiny earbuds?” she fixed her lipstick and pulled up the dress from around her hips, trying to squeeze through it and not rip it.

           “They’re called comms, Leah,” Sam was putting on his shiny black shoes that would - the kind that would get him into a ballroom dance competition.

           “She knows that.” Bucky’s mumble was shortly followed by her confirmation.

           “I know, Sam.”

           He shook his head in disbelief at the childish exchange and fixed his shoelaces.

           “Relax. We know the drill,” Bucky patted his shoulder. The tight-lipped smile was the most encouragement he could muster, but that was enough for his friend. “now, give me that tiny earbud.”

           Sam sent him a look and exhaled heavily at Bucky’s mocking chuckle. They set up the communication channel with Joaquin and put their looks together with shiny cufflinks, shirts nicely fitted into their waistbands, and spritzes of cologne.

           She rarely had the opportunity to dress up like this. Face accentuated by light makeup, hair nicely tucked away from her face with two golden bobby pins, and that body-tight dress; the faux-leather corset-like middle hugged her nicely, making her breasts curve just right. The bottom looked like a black princess gown, but cut off just below her ass. It was flowing with dark, delicate fabrics that jumped over the swell of her bum. Her body looked hellishly good in that dress, and Bucky’s mind repeated that statement to himself when he saw her appear in the doorframe.

           “Could you help me zip it?” Her timid voice was such a contrast to the way she looked, that even Sam raised his eyebrow in curiosity.

           Bucky put away his phone and walked up to her immediately, not even paying attention to the teasing look that their friend served them. She stood with her back to him, already half-zipped, so not too much of her was revealed. He struggled a little with the fastening, scrunching his eyebrows in the meantime.

           “Are you sure it’s not…”

           “What?”

           “It’s not uh…” he stuttered a little, trying to find the right words that wouldn’t offend her clothing choice. “too tight?”

           They both paused for a heartbeat, and Leah listened intently into the nervousness that started crawling out of his mind. She bit her lip and shook her head gently.

           “No, it fits. Just pull it up a bit more.” She instructed, but Bucky hesitated. He held the hem between his fingers and looked down, eyeing her bottom carefully as it slid through the material.

           “Pull it up? Doll, if I pull it up, your whole bottom will be out.” He protested, not even caring about using the pet name in front of Sam. When he heard her groan, he obeyed, and zipped up the dress and fastened the little clasp on top of it.

           Leah let out a small ‘thank you’ and shimmied about in the dress, fitting it comfortably around her. She pulled on the back to check how long it is and confidently pushed it up an inch more, covering more of her cleavage.

           “Where, uh…” He cleared his throat, lowering his voice. It caught her attention and made her look up, fixing her gaze on his wide blue eyes. “where did you get this?”

           “Why? You like it?” Leah’s voice was barely above a whisper, smiling wickedly at his stoic face that started to break with each look down her body. There was a tint of pink spreading over his cheeks. She could feel the warmth that was building up in his mind; she didn’t have to read his feelings to know that he liked it.

           “Alright, that’s it. We’re leaving now.” Sam waved at them and opened the door to the suite, inviting them both to walk out with him.

           Bucky passed Leah her comms and waited as she left the room first, making sure nothing was left behind. He walked up to Sam, pursing his lips at the proud smirk adorning his friend’s face.

           “Please use the room farthest from the door. I don’t wanna hear it.”

           By the time they made it to the ground floor, the party was in full swing. The main hall was covered in dark drapes, singular tables stood out with crimson tablecloths and crystal cutlery. The bar was visibly flowing with the fake smoke; waiters and bartenders were wearing either grim makeup, or a tad-too-revealing costumes. Politicians occupied the tall tables near the stage, where frighteningly flexible gymnasts showed off their skills on poles and hoops. The few lounge areas smelled of cigars and heavily poured whiskey. The whole floor was decorated with bloody signs, warning tapes, and random limbs of mannequins hanging on the walls.

           “I didn’t know Jersey’s senators would be into hardcore Halloween themes.” Leah’s mumble resonated in their comms. Nobody said anything in response, as they continued to stare at the bizarre décor of the place. They passed a group of A-list celebrities who were filming it and taking candid photos of the party; clad in equally form-fitting clothes, with glasses already half-empty.

           A few bystanders looked at the three with curious eyes; they weren’t necessarily hiding and did not wear their tactical uniforms. For some, such sight would be news-worthy. Bucky cursed himself for not wearing his leather gloves – the golden strokes over his fingers glistened under the dim lights and caught attention of those who knew of his past. He moved his hand nervously in an out of a fist, searching desperately for his pocket to hide his left hand. Just when he was clenching his jaw for the first time that night, Leah’s palm gently wrapped around his bionic arm, silently asking him to bend it, so that he could have her wrapped around it. She lifted up a corner of her lips when he looked at her, and saw through her action – she was calming him down. Leah eased the tension and let go of the tightly knotted nervousness. She worked her magic on him.

           They walked some more around the main room, taking in their surroundings and the guests that arrived. Governors chatted with art collectors; philanthropists made silent deals with influencers and valuable personas.

           “Guys, ten o’clock, a few gang leaders from Madripoor.” Bucky’s eyes wandered to the target offered quietly by Torres. Leah looked the other way, plastering an empty smile to her face as some performers mixed with the crowd.

           “I’m gonna go mingle.” He returned a fake smile and squeezed Leah’s palm, before wandering off.

           She swayed her hips a bit more to the heavy bass of music. Walking closer to Sam, she was about to offer him a drink, when her train of thoughts was blocked by someone’s heavy intention to talk. She saw the local governor making his way down to Sam, ready to shake his hand generously and congratulate on the latest achievements.

           “I’ll be at the bar.” Her soft voice left him with an overly excited, slightly intoxicated politician.

           The bartenders must have been paid extra, because the fire and fake blood were interchangeably accompanying each order. She found an empty barstool to sit and straightened up her back, to catch attention of the Dracula pouring another round of bloody Mary for a tech mogul’s wife.

           “What can I get you?” He offered her a little bowl of pretzels and lit up a tealight next to her.

           “Gin and tonic. Make it sweet.”

           While the bartender was fixing her drink, Leah looked around. Sam was nowhere to be found, the crowd even busier than minutes before. It made it difficult for her to read people’s feelings clearer, so she tried to listen in more.

           A creeping wave of anxiety, covered deeply by chemically altered excitement, beamed out of the short, dark-haired guy. He kept on circling his tall beer glass, as he allowed the girl next to him chat him up. He laughed at something the pretty blonde said, but he wasn’t focused on her. He kept on checking his watch and taking small, but continuous sips of his drink.

Leah wanted to read more into this, but the Dracula offered her the drink and made a show out of it, sprinkling it with edible glitter. She smiled thankfully and took a sip, admittedly impressed by the taste. She drank a bit more before turning back into focus, but her perception became clouded by the commotion in the other side of the room. Someone picked up a fight, but it quickly died down as security came out of nowhere, fully stocked with weapons to scare everyone off. The show of power resonated through the room, and the fear among the patrons dissolved quickly with fresh rounds of drinks and other refreshments.

When she turned back to the stress-drinker, he was gone. With sweet concoction in one hand, Leah stood up from the bar and tried to focus. She circled the drinking area and kept her eyes open, looking for that mop of hair and overpriced watch. She thought she saw him near the exit, welcoming someone in, but a group of laughing girls crossed her path and broke the connection. She backed off to an emptier side of the room and played with her hair, while saying,

“Torres, brown hair, short male. Sat three seats to the left from me at the bar, just came up to the entrance.”

“On it. Give me some time, let me know if you see him again.”

It went on like this for some time. She walked around, nursing her glittery drink and looking around for anything suspicious. Some people would walk up to her, chat about nothing and share empty excitement over the party. At one point, Sam’s head flashed in-between the swaying bodies. She got closer, watching carefully as a few senators shook his hand and exchanged pleasantries with Captain America in civil clothing. She rolled her eyes at the overload of testosterone emanating from them, so leaving Sam with their attention was the best choice for now. He was just fine.

Finding Bucky was a little more difficult. The mobsters changed their seats and were moving about, making it harder to navigate which group sucked him in. The last spot she hasn’t checked before was the secluded area with velvet lounges, where the skimpy dressed gymnasts came in, but didn’t leave for a while. She downed her drink and walked towards the little corridor.

Before she could turn the corner, a familiar, female voice resonated from the side. Leah could swear she knew that tone; she couldn’t make up the face, but her mind screamed at her to follow it. She pushed the heavy curtain and took a step inside, trying to be subtle and quiet. What she didn’t expect though, was the strong arm pulling her back forcefully, backing her to the main hall swiftly. Her brain didn’t warn her of any danger lurking behind, so she turned on her heels to be met with Bucky’s heavy gaze.

“I wouldn’t go there.” His low whisper was confident enough that Leah didn’t question him. He gestured with his head to the other way of the room and lead her away, making them blend in with the crowd again.

They found the bar with the same Dracula for a bartender, and Bucky pushed his way through enough to locate an empty bar stool for her. He gestured Leah to sit down, as he leaned on the counter and waved the bartender over to make an order.

She spent a minute taking him in. His suit still crisp and without a wrinkle on the shirt, face hard yet a tad softer, when he turned to her. She swore to limit her use of powers on him to bare minimum, so she didn’t read his emotions. She allowed him be, order them a drink each, and make himself busy for a moment.

“You good?” She asked finally.

Bucky took a swing from the beer glass and licked his lips from the excess foam that gathered around his lips. Absentmindedly, he nodded, looking around before speaking.

“Sharon Carter is here. She’s doing a dodgy business with some jocks, I don’t even know who they are. I don’t want to know. There are people involved.”

That made sense. Leah connected the dots and could hear the voice that she heard moments before; it definitely was the toxic blonde that hid more behind her fake smile, than one would have imagined.

“What are you thinking?” She searched for his eyes. He wouldn’t look at her at first, so she reached up with her palm to touch his cheek gently. It got his attention and made him return the look of concern, locking their gazes in a heavy stare.

“The short guy that Leah paid attention to, he invited Sharon Carter in. She was on the list, so, nothing out of ordinary here. Keep looking.”

Torres’s voice never did sound more annoying. Back to square one.

It was past midnight when they reunited with Sam. The whole evening, he was held up by senators and influential figures, all of which were stakeholders of the military programs. He fished for intel, for anyone to sell any lead as to why the Power Broker would want the US military to be involved in their business, but to no success. He made a few friends that potentially could spill a rare detail in the future, but nothing that would help them find the snitch during the party.

They waited out until the main show would slow down. Sam joined their private pity party with Dracula the bartender, and they just watched. A few people would come up to them to say their goodbyes, but Leah wasn’t even sure who they were. Her mind went on a road trip across the whole room again, scanning everyone and everything around. She was focusing so hard that the plastic straw she was holding, broke between her fingers. She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, and gently massaged her forehead.

“Hey, you alright?” Sam nudged her in the ribs, and then looked over her head at Bucky.

“Yeah. I’ve been feeling a lot, but never releasing it. It gets heavy.” She mumbled with a groan, closing her eyes for a second.

“You guys go upstairs for a while, get some quiet time. I’ll keep watching,” he nodded toward the exit. “Torres, you still there?”

“All eyes and ears, man.” The connection was still strong, but Joaquin was just quieter, probably more bored and tired with each passing hour.

“Alright. Keep us posted.”

Bucky stood up and took Leah’s hand, pulling her away from the dirty countertop and making her walk away with him. Some security guards nodded at them, almost as if they knew them personally. They stepped into the small elevator and waited patiently for the faulty door to close behind them. She then leaned into him, resting her forehead on his shoulder and letting out a heavy breath. He held her waist and massaged it gently, for reassurance. The elevator stopped at their floor with a little bell sound, and so they walked in silence into their suite.

They left the room clean, and it calmed her senses. They lit up all of the lights and pulled the drapes over the windows. Leah took off her high heels in the middle of the room, not caring about the mess she was leaving behind anymore. Her head was pounding with sudden silence that hit her mind. A shocking wave of unexpected peace made her shudder with relief. She threw herself onto the nearest bed, breathing in the softness of the mattress. She turned on her side to watch him move around the room; he took of his suit jacket and sat down at the couch across from her, legs spread wide comfortably, head resting on the back cushion.

The boiling power bubbled inside of her – her body always sought harmony. She did not use her power physically today, so the accumulated feelings were overflowing. Her eyes were shining with the icy blue hue, making her attention span shift significantly.

She crawled up from bed and slowly made her way to Bucky. He watched her carefully, trying to understand her and her needs. She climbed over his lap, hugging his hips with her thighs. Leah leaned in, resting her forehead on his, locking their gazes in a silent stare off. His hands wandered to her hips, holding her steadily, but lovingly. He massaged her body, trying to ease any discomfort that her body might feel. In return, she leaned down to kiss him on the lips sweetly. Their mouths moved in sync, creating a steady rhythm that started to sway their entire bodies. He knew what she needed and he was more than willing to help her out.

Cold, metal hand palmed her ass cheek. It easily brushed over the delicate material of the dress, making his fingers slip across her body with ease. He repetitively squeezed the firm flesh beneath her clothing, which made her move her hips in unison with his gentle pushes. His harsh tugs on her butt made her grind over his groin, earning a hearty moan out of her throat.

Tight dress slowly hiked up her ass and gave him easy access to the heat of her skin; he released it and quickly grabbed it again, catching it mid-jiggle and making a loud, slapping sound. She kept on moving her hips, feeling her core warm up and soak her panties. Sloppy kisses were interrupted by sudden breath intakes and impatient moans. The steady movement of her hips helped her find the growing bulge in his pants. When she started moving along its length, she let go of his lips with a smack and started kissing his cheek, jaw, and neck. Shamelessly grinding over him, she took a hold of the collar of his shirt and unbuttoned the very top of it. Leah sucked and bit lightly on his neck, not getting enough of the taste of his skin.

Bucky pulled at her panties and moved them to the side, dipping his hand between her ass cheeks and lower. She moaned loudly, feeling the slick wetness leave her core.

“Fuck, baby” Leah almost sobbed, feeling her powers tickle her nervous system. Each movement was more electric and bringing her greater ecstasy. She needed him to touch her, love her, kiss her, and fill her.

“What do you need, doll? Tell me.” He mumbled in between their hot kisses. They were all spit and tongue, teeth clashing when Bucky dipped a finger into her.

She whimpered, stilling her movements as he worked her up. She shook with the overwhelming feeling of pleasure and much needed release.

“Tell me, baby, what do you need?” He pulled out his finger and squeezed her ass.

Too stunned to speak, with shaky hands she reached down to his pants, doing her best to undo his belt and unzip it. She held up her hips to have easier access, fumbling with the zipper and quickly pushing her fingers through the waistband of his boxers. He stopped her by grabbing her wrists in one hand.

“Talk to me,” Bucky made her look down at him, scanning through each other’s faces with attention. “I’ll give you the world, but just talk to me. Just like you make me talk.”

Tears welled up in her eyes; she was overloaded with emotions; her mind powers took a toll on her and she just needed to release it. She couldn’t start shooting up her magic just because she felt like it, so she had to get rid of the heaviness of it all.

“I love you, James,” She kissed him on the lips and looked him straight in his blue orbs, making hers lit up. “I love you so much, and I need you to make me feel so good, that I can forget about everybody’s pain for a moment.”

He smiled with this warm, adoring expression. His face was sparklingly beautiful and looked only at her, nothing else.

           What happened next, neither of them expected. Leah was so focused on getting rid of her emotional overload, that she blocked everything else. The lights suddenly switched off, the room drowned in uneasy darkness.

           “Sam?” Bucky’s expression hardened, his arms held Leah tighter against his chest.

           “The power’s out here too. Joaquin, anything?”

           The only thing that Bucky could make out in the room were her eyes. They shone their delicate blue hue, grounding him in distress.

           “You have incoming from the main entrance. I can’t scan them, so brace yourselves.”

           “Are you gonna be okay?” He whispered to her, not sure how much of their conversation would be muted from Sam and Torres’s comms.

           She nodded rapidly, but did so while rapidly wiping at her cheeks. She was letting go of the feelings through heavy tears. Bucky held her by the cheeks and pressed a hard kiss to her lips.

           “I love you and I will take care of you, alright?” She nodded in understanding, but sniffed uncontrollably.

           They helped each other fix their clothing and blindly search for their weapons. Bucky left the room first, listening in to any sounds on their floor that would suggest any danger. Leah let the blue sparks circle around her fingers, ready to burst up in magical flames to protect them. She lit up the corridor with the blue swirls of energy and followed Bucky down the stairs.

           Leah stopped Bucky from leaving the staircase, pointing to the side where she could feel a few people running. They waited out the unwanted company and entered the ground floor, where they saw the backs of the group running away. The one person that turned their way for a split second was the tall blonde, clutching her gun tightly.

           “Sharon…” Leah mumbled, looking at her intently, and in disbelief.

           Bucky was already ahead of her, kneeling beside a body of a middle-aged man.

           “Torres, call 911. One man down.”

           “Two more near the bar.” Sam’s heavy voice resonated in their ears, and Leah couldn’t stop the incoming stream of awareness. She kept looking back to where Sharon disappeared into the darkness, feeling the surge of feelings left behind in the air. Her tired mind was swimming fast in the depths of her power, and it helped her understand:

           “She’s the Power Broker.”

_____

tagging: @real-jane

[ijustreallylikecaptainamericaok]

Title: This Love of Mine, My Valentine AO3: Part of “SamSteve Bingo 2022 Moodboards” Rating: General Warnings: Alcohol, Food Relationship: Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson Word Count: 40 Additional Tags: Moodboard, Microfic, Fluff, Valentine’s Day, Valentine’s Day Fluff, Candy, Roses, Slow Dancing Summary: N/A Notes: Made for the @samstevebingo2022 prompt “Valentine’s Day.” And yes, I know that I’m either extremely late or extremely early with this topic, but it’s what we have to work with. *shrug* Title from “My Valentine” by Paul McCartney.

Sam chuckled, shaking his head as he grasped the red wrapping paper clad gift that was soon to join the flowers and boxes of candy beside him. “Baby, this is too much.”

Steve smiled softly. “Not for you, it isn’t.”

[mxtantrights]

NOW TAKING BLURB REQUESTS FOR MARVEL

yes my inbox is open to blurbs starting now. send in any ramblings or ideas you have! I’d love to answer and talk and create new things along with you all. or just gush over these characters. 

who I will write for 

Steve Rogers

Bucky Barnes

Sam Wilson

Joaquin Torres

Thor Odinson

Namor (K'uk'ulkan')

Alex Summers

Kurt Wagner

Peter Parker (TASM)

(and maybe more, send me an ask and I’ll let you know)

YOU CAN FIND THESE BLUBS UNDER THE TAG: #marvelblurbs

[antiquarianfics]

Accidental Blurb 1

a/n: you want more? here’s a little blurb of how i imagine bucky getting the rundown of the “drop off” going hehe

Accidental

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

A knock on the thick mahogany door rings throughout James Barnes’ office. The infamous head of the Barnes family—the most powerful and dangerous man in Brooklyn, New York—looks up from the papers sitting in front of him, eyes locking on those of his two most trusted colleagues, advisors, and—most importantly—friends.

“Buck,” Steve Rogers, Bucky’s childhood best friend and right hand man, greets as he walks in the extravagant office.

“Steve, Sam,” Bucky nods at Steve and the third man in the room, Sam Wilson. Sam is a newer friend, but Bucky trusted him just as much as Steve. Sam takes pride in giving Bucky a hard time and being one of the only people unafraid of telling Bucky when he’s being moronic.

The two men meander around the office, waiting for Bucky to say something. They know they can speak freely, but they want to bother Bucky who is most certainly busy. Bucky groans.

“What?”

“You know that errand you had me run?” Steve asks.

Bucky sits up straight, his attention fully on his friend. Sam snorts.

“Man, you’re pussy-whipped and you don’t know the first thing about her.”

Steve grins, “She’s adamant about holding up her end of your bargain, but she’s added some demands.”

Bucky’s eyebrows raise. “Demands?”

“Mhmm,” Steve hums. “Poked me in the chest and everything. Kind of rude.” He’s clearly trying not to laugh.

“What does she want?”

“Boy, don’t tell me you’re gonna let her boss you around like that!” Sam teases.

“She said, and I quote, ‘Tell James he better damn well bring flowers.’”

Bucky can’t help the blush that heats his cheeks. He can’t help but think that maybe you are a little bit interested in him, too. He can’t help but wonder what the best type of flower to get you would be.

“Look at him, Steve,” Sam says, tutting. “The woman assaults him and he hears wedding bells. She bosses him around and he’s picking out baby names. Mystery girl broke him!”

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

@cjand10 @vicmc624 @mostlymarvelgirl @livingoutsidethetardis @onceithough @thedonswife13 @kaithesimps-blog @buckitostan @julvrs @unaxv @searchn0tfound @10ava01

[rassvetsky]

Hello hello my dear :D

I love your writing so i HAD to send a request! This is probably super niche and if you dont feel comfortable writing it thats COMPLETELY okay!<3

So i have a skin disorder that makes red spots appear ALL over my skin and it makes it feel itchy and rough(now in other fanfic its normally that the characters talk about "readers soft skin" and sadly i cant relate to that)

So i was wondering if you could write Sam Wilson x fem! Or Non binary! Reader with a skin disorder :D what prompt you use, if its nsfw or sfw and how long it is, is completely up to you! I would just love to relate to a fanfic again :,)

Much love <3

thank you so much for sending this and i hope i did it at least some justice, because i've been incredibly uncreative and unmotivated for a long time now— i too suffer from a skin condition mostly triggered by stress, which makes the skin of my shoulders and upper back very bumpy (and damn it leaves scars each time) so this was insightful to think about,, most fics aren't that inclusive unfortunately (which is nobody's fault!!) but anyway, i hope you have a wonderful day, and thank you again for dragging me out of my void!!

Fifty Bucks

sam wilson x reader

"It's impossible to feel inconvenienced by anything when Sam Wilson is your personal stand-up comedian and therapist at the same time. He might demand fifty bucks, though."

[1k] | honestly not much, super short and quick anyway, fluff, reader has a skin condition as lovely anon mentioned above, swearing, sam is a blessing and not in disguise at all

reblog and/or like for a kiss, feedback much appreciated! not proofread.

You should've seen this coming.

But it's like your body and your mind operate on completely different terms sometimes, with no connection to one another whatsoever. It's impossible to control how your body might react to something that brews in your mind, and while for some it's not an issue to keep focus on; people that are blessed with one tiny little add-on to their existence like you have to be extra careful sometimes.

And good lord, you can never be careful enough.

As Sam paced around in your apartment, trying to keep your mind off of work stress and the general adulthood obstacles through a sacred quest of finding a show to watch before you could come back to the living room; you were mentally face-palming upon the sight of a red spot on the course of forming on your shoulder, and a few more down your arms. You can't control everything that happens around you, of course, but God, why is it that everyone else seems to be better at handling stress?

When you came back to the living room with a slight pout on your lips, fingers tugging on the material of your t-shirt to reveal a portion of your arms, Sam is perplexed. Remote control in his palm, he turned around to look at you, gaze flickering between your hand and your face. "Everything okay?" he asked, pointing towards the snacks laid out on the coffee table with the remote control. "It better be. I didn't pay for all those for nothing, you better cheer the hell up."

That pulled a chuckle out of you as you shrugged, stepping closer to him with a sigh, forcing the sight into his point of view. "Flaring up a bit, I think," a soft breath left you. "Figures. I was beginning to expect it at this point."

"What's that? Allergies?" he asked, following suit when you took a seat on the couch, relaxing right next to you. "Is it the lobster? Can't be, because I marinated that thing so good that people with seafood allergy could risk death to have a taste. I'm serious."

"No, it just happens." you chuckled softly, heaving a deep sigh before leaning back comfortably. "There isn't much that I can do about it now, it's just gonna itch and drive me crazy."

Sam hummed as a response, before pressing 'play' on the first comfort show that he came across, mind occupied with this newfound information. It must be annoying enough to go through, he thought, figuring that he shouldn't ask many questions— but he's a curious individual, he couldn't help it even if he tried. "Isn't there anything, like— like an ointment or something for 'em?" your slow nod caused him to hum, the intro of the show seemingly catching your attention, but not his, surprisingly, considering the fact that he often possessed the attention span of a goldfish. "Does it bother you?"

"It's not a pretty sight when the timing is wrong," you mumbled while reaching for a pack of sour candies on the coffee table before leaning back on the couch again. The cushions were soft against your back, but not as soft as your bed— which you were beginning to miss. "But I feel like I've gotten used to it, you know? Like, I learn more about how my skin reacts to certain things as time goes by and, well, I'm trying to manage it better."

"Not a pretty sight my ass," he whispered under his breath, causing you to laugh— along with him. "You could have Shrek skin for all I care. Or Avatar skin, whatever fictional world you're into— you'd still be one hell of a sight."

"Shrek skin? C'mon, you're just saying that."

"Watch it, I get real aggressive about affection," a pair of strong arms pulled you to his side and you giggled against the material of his shirt, trying to slap his arms away from you. "God was like, damn, a full package. Gotta balance it out somehow."

It was incredible, how fast Sam could get you laughing. But there you were, laughing at his antics with the show long-forgotten on the screen, his arms secure around you and a pretty smile on his lips. He was a man of acceptance, after all, and you were sure that given the chance, he could restore world peace in a week with his delicious cookouts and wonderfully thought speeches.

"Shut the hell up," you chuckled, shaking your head. "It doesn't even bother me, it's my own skin. Just makes me wish that I was a bit luckier."

"That's a good thing, you know, being alright with it." his fingers found your hair then, giving the area a few loving pats before carding them through your locks. It was as if his tone changed when he started to speak again, and you'd recognize that speech pattern anywhere. "Health-wise, accepting and embracing something kinda works like a placebo, you know? Whether it's a mental thing or, you know, something physical— when you're like, alright, I'm doing this and that to cure this thing, but at the same time, I'm not gonna be all like, damn this thing—"

"God, not one of these speeches again—"

"Listen, you ungrateful brat," his faux offense made you laugh again, as you watched him press his palm against his chest where his heart is supposed to be. "People don't pay therapists for nothing."

"I know, I know." you cuddled onto him more. "M'sorry, go on?"

"I will, for fifty bucks."

"FIFTY?!" you raised your head from his shoulder to look up at him, eyes wide in shock.

"Do you have any idea how expensive therapy is?! Thirty at most, pay up or shut up!"

[velvetcloxds]

about you- send me a character and a combination of any two of the previous choices and I'll write a little baby blurb for it

sam wilson + co-workers to lovers au + "why did you come here i told you it's dangerous" "to save your save, I cant have you dead yet"

is this okay?

FALLEN | S.W.

word count: 0.6k

warnings: kind of out of the marvel loop atm, don't remember the deets from the movie

Sam Wilson was stubborn, unimaginably so, it was one of his more infuriating characteristics, but it was also why you had very surprisingly fallen hopelessly in love with him.

You sighed, again, you were sure that Sam was keeping count of them by now. A knowing yet silent look shared between him and Steve as you pasted a bright pink band-aid on Bucky's head, the now-present super soldier not daring to object to the notion as he too picked up on the tension in the room.

"What?" you breathed, looking over the long-haired man with an accidental glare, stuffing the rest of your first aid supplies back in your bag as he shrugged defensively, hands lifted in surrender as Sam snickered behind you, already expecting the similar though notably more terrifying look you gave him.

"Stop that," he mused and was far too quick to help you up from the ground, not missing the brief moment of hesitation you had when allowing him to do exactly that before stepping back. "I said stop," he repeated and you knew what he meant, he knew your act was getting old, anger wasn't truly anger more just annoyance with his stupidity. "Let's go," he was pointing at the open door, not taking any objections as he grabbed your hand to pull you along, careful yet stern, the Sam special. "What is your damage, sweetheart," the man demanded as if he had no idea.

"You," you deadpanned, hands now folded as you scorned at him. "You, Sam, idiotic, stubborn, reckless man, are my damage. What the hell were you thinking helping Steve? He decided to start a war and that's on him, not you. But no, you are a good lap dog; you just jump when he calls, and then I have to come to clean up your mess again."

"Now hold up," he scoffed, it was the type of scoff he reserved just for you and your attitude as he liked to call it even though you both knew it was just because you cared. "I didn't ask you to come here, in fact, I specifically told you not to come here because it was dangerous."

"Of course, I came here, that's the problem. I have to come to save your ass, every damn time."

"And why is that," the step he took towards you was painfully subtle, and the hand that took hold of your wrist to stop it from gesturing around was too, it was the touch that wasn't, it was scorching, accusatory.

"I can't have you die on me," you admitted, allowing his grip to soften, allowing his hand to slide down, his fingers to lace together with yours. "And you're hellbent on trying."

"I'm not, promise, it's the very last thing I'm trying to do," he defended and your frown dipped into a pout, his eyes softening as a delicate smile sifted into his lips. "I'll try to be more careful though if that keeps me from being on the other side of one of those glares of yours."

"Shut up," you sighed and your head fell to his chest, a soft slap to his bicep not derailing him from his mission.

"No, no, you really know how to lay into a man, damn," you were giggling, his own laugh picking up barely a second later as his other hand came up to squeeze your waist, both of you very content to stay like that for a while.

[mgparker]

recruitment gone… right?

platonic!steven grant/marc spector x teenage!reader

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

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

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

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

“It shouldn’t be too hard.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is like being a salesperson. 

Shudder. 

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

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

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

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

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

Showtime. 

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

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

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

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

Steven. 

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

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

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

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

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

There was nothing peculiar or odd about his fellow commuters. 

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

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

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

“Oi, who’s there?”

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

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

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

“AH!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ha! Colonel Sanders.

Steven wished there was a way to punch Marc.

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

“Ouch, hard feelings?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

With a sigh, Steven allowed Marc to front.

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

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

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

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

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

Captain America? He gripped the crescent blade tighter. 

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

“That’s bullshit.”

“That’s- that’s amazing!”

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

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

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

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

‘They’re too young!’

‘They can barely contain their abilities!’

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steven ignored him and looked at you expectantly.

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

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

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

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

You narrowed your eyes at him.

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

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

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

Steven pursed his lips at you. 

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

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

“Marc is on board?”

“Absolutely.”

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

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

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

“... now?”

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

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

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

—————> the big champs + bucky

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

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

you: 😐

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

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

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

you: wtf is tweet

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

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

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

ha ha

— elle <3

[yourlastbraincell-kiwi]

A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts and I fixed it up and decided to post it as a little blurb. Enjoy!

No mention of skin color, but the reader is the daughter of Sam Wilson!

Pairing: Peter Parker x samwilsondaughter!fem!reader

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” Sam said, walking into the Avengers tower, holding the door open for everyone behind him.

“When do you ever think something is a good idea?” Bucky replied.

“All the time, all the time, but this one right here? Is not it.” Said Sam, as he walked further away from the group, and sat atop of a table.

“Well, this a great opportunity for the both of them.” Steve said.

“For what exactly?”

“Maybe they’ll bond over something and get close with one another.” Natasha replied, sitting next to Sam on the table.

“Yeah, and that’s what scares the hell outta me.” He responded and stood up from the table and began to pace.

Sam has always put an overprotective bubble, over (Y/N). Her being both his only daughter and child, he just wants the best for her. And (Y/N) sees that, but he doesn’t know that she’s losing the opportunity to be a teen.

She wants to go out with friends? It was a lovely day, until she caught him watching her and her friends through some bushes, with goggles and full on camouflage.

Yeah, now she only sees those friends during school hours.

Sleepover with the besties? Yeah, just ready for constant check ups and phone calls. He wants to know what you’re doing 24/7.

And suddenly those sleepover invitations get lost in the mail.

Don’t even get him started on dating. Sam will not allow it, until he’s ran an entire background check on the guy.

Now none of the guys at her school talk with her, everyone sees how protective he is of her. It’s sweet, but also completely unnecessary.

The door swung open as Peter ran inside trying to shove something into his backpack. “You wanted to see me, Mr. Wilson?” Peter asked, feeling nervous and on the verge of sweating.

“Oh, don’t be silly. Call me, ‘sir.’” Sam said, as Natasha game him a look, but he shrugged it off.

“I called you here, because I wanted you to meet someone. She should be here any moment.”

Not too long later, she walked inside the building and Sam immediately stood next to her. “Peter meet-”

“(Y/N)? Hey! How are you?” Peter says, as (Y/N) got closer to him and hugged him tight.

“Hey! I’ve been good!” They both smiled at each other, as they let go of one another, then they both looked away from each other, feeling embarrassed and flustered.

“Sooo.. you too already know each other?” Steve asked, and Peter was quick to answer.

“Yeah, I mean we,” Sam stared at him giving him a slight death glare. “We don’t actually, I don’t know her. Who are you again?” Peter said stumbling over his words, scratching the back of his head.

I rolled my eyes and stepped forward, “Peter and I met in school, he’s a good friend.” I smile at him, as Peter gave me a nervous smile.

“Good, that’s great! How about you two catch up and reminisce about, whatever things teens do these days. We have to have a quick talk with your dad, (Y/N).” Nat told me, I nodded and took Peter somewhere else in the tower.

Once they were out of earshot of everyone else, Peter let (Y/N) know just how nervous and frightened he was.

“He’s gonna kill me isn’t he? Like I know I offended him in some way so like, I might not wake up tomorrow, and-”

“Peter! Relax.. he won’t do anything to you. I promise.” I replied and Peter calmed down almost instantly, and took some deep breaths. “Hopefully..” I murmur to myself, underneath my breath.

“What??” Peter asked, clearly hearing what was said. I laughed running off and he began to chase me around.