#and way too scared of rejection but he never stopped showing it for wilson | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

queenoftheworldisdead · 3 years

Note

I have a request with dark prompts and tropes/ kinks from the list.

The Dialogues:

“Please, I have to get home.”

“Don’t move a muscle.”

Tropes:

Stalking/obsession

Kidnapping

(With the character Andy Barber)

Thank you in advance.

Hard day's night

Warning: 18 + Only, dark theme, kidnapping, choking, bondage, non-consent, dubious consent, forced fingering, cream-pie

Note: hope you enjoy

Dark Andy x Reader

The parking garage was partially empty compared to when you first arrived to work. Your heels echoed off the cement garage walls as you searched for where you parked. Some days you were lucky to park on L3 the prized spot closest to the ground, but today you were late and in your hurry you couldn't remember if you were on L5 or L8.

With the car fob in hand you press the unlock button. The familiar beep signaled that you were further away than you anticipated.

*Honk

The loud car horn from behind had you jumping out of your skin and screeching at the top of your lungs. With your heart hammering in your chest you turned only to be immediately blinded by the car behind you.

Blocking the light with your hand, you realized you were wondering in the middle of the driving path. "Sorry" you shouted back, moving over to allow them to pass you.

The black sedan creeped up and idled beside you. You clutched your purse and moved over closer to the side as the window rolled down. You didn't have mace, but you were sure your purse was heavy enough to wheeled as a weapon.

"Sorry I scared you" Andy leaned over, smiling as he looked up at you. It was slightly jarring seeing him like that. He had been extremely combative towards your boss during the deposition, each session ending in a screaming match.

Mr. Thomas, the defense attorney you paralegal for, had always been mild tempered. The objections during Mr. Thomas's cross drew an ire that you had never witnessed before. It was as if he sought to provoke him on purpose. Tempers were so high that Judge Peters threatened both sides with contempt, forcing several recesses to cool them off.

A process that normally lasted a few hours somehow turned into three grueling days of high tensions and long nights going over transcripts.

"Sorry I was in the way. I forgot where I parked." You jiggled your keys, almost embarrassed.

"Get in I'll help you find it. It's really late and you shouldn't be walking alone in the garage like this."

The offer was nice, but getting into the car of opposing console would surely be frowned apron at your firm.

You were about to protest when he unlocked the passenger door. With a sigh of defeat you got inside. Thankfully Mr. Thomas parked in reserved parking on the lower levels. Far from the general parking on the upper floors that you used.

"I assume your late because of me" he laughed lightly as he slowly drove on.

"Yeah its safe to say you are correct" you dryly chuckled as you hid low in the seat. The garage was slightly empty, but you didn't want to take the chance of being seen as doing something inappropriate. Idiot why did you get in the car?

Aside from him being apposing console Mr.Barber made you feel uneasy. During the hours long deposition you would feel a weird tingle, that made you look up from your notepad only to look up and lock eyes with the DA. You shrugged it off as an intimidation tactic used to get under the skin of the opposition.

---

Clicking your fob again you listened for your car, but somehow you were now further than you were originally. "Oh gosh can we turn back? I think I' m further up."

Andy nodded as he continued down the path. The signs above indicating 'More parking turn left' and 'Exit turn right'.

"Why are you still here?" You questioned him as you searched. The deposition ran long, but it ended hours ago.

"Oh.." He said caught off guard as he made a right turn toward the exit. "I spotted an old colleague John Wilson. We chatted for a bit, didn't and realize how late it was until the old ball and chain called."

Your office had a few former district attorneys. Most left the DA's office for the more lucrative life of defense.

"Um Mr.Barber.. you needed to make the left to go back into the garage." You pointed back when Andy made the right turn toward the garage exit.

"You know I'm impressed by your professionalism." Andy ignored and continued down the wrong path. "Thomas is lucky to have you on his team" he explained as he rolled to a stop behind a car inline to exit.

"Um thank you." You shifted in your seat at the impromptued complement. You hadn't done anything special or out of the ordinary. You just took notes like any other paralegal would.

Was he head hunting you? You heard about big firms doing stuff like that, but not for paralegals that were a dime a dozen.

Andy made no effort to change course and you felt increasingly uncomfortable as he inched closer to the exit.

"Um...you know I will just get security to escort me to my car from here." You pointed at the man in the glass box guarding the exit. "Thank you" you reached over to touch the door handle and heard an immediate click of the lock snapping shut.

"Don't move a muscle." You froze at his command.

"I wouldn't get out if I were you." He warned glancing at the rear-view. "Your boss might frown at you getting out of the apposing consoles car."

Stiffly you turned to peak over your seat, a cold chill fell over your body at the sight of Mr. Thomas car waiting in line behind Andy's in the queue. If you got out now you would be in deep shit. You slunk down low in the seat, in a veiled effort to hide. You shouldn't have gotten in this car. What the hell were you thinking?

"Come work for me" Andy casually grabbed his ticket to feed to the machine as he rolled to a stop. So this was just a job offer? If that was the case you were sure there were better ways to go about it. You had a nice chemistry with the old defense attorney and you were not interested in the stress of the DA's office or the pay cut you were sure to get.

"Um I'm not looking for a new job." You rejected him nervously. Hoping he would turn around and let you out.

"At least here my offer."

It seemed as you had no choice in the matter as he proceeded to pull out onto the road.

Your lips pressed into a frown. If you placate him, maybe he would let you go. He was a DA after all he wasn't going to hurt you tried to convince yourself.

"Fine, what is it?"

---

"Come work for me and I don't charge you with witness tempering"

Your eyes went wild at the allegation. "What!"

A lot of firms were dirty, but yours was not one of them. The cases you handled with Mr. Thomas didn't even rise to that level. At most he handled cases of over zealous brokers, financial fraud cases or embezzlement. The only time you ever came in contact with a witness Mr.Thomas was there with you. And even if it did you would never take penitentiary chances to get a leg up on the competition.

"Don't worry it's not true. I know your a good girl" he glanced over at you with a smirk. The praise graded you as you sat still stunned. "But that won't stop me from charging you. I'm willing to bet that until you get yourself untangled from the mess I am going to make of your life, your boss and his associates wouldn't think twice about letting you go."

You stared at him in disbelief. You barely said two words to this man, yet he was ready to blow up your life. And for what? For you to work for him? "And from what I know of paralegal salaries I would bet you could afford a public defender at best."

"Mr. Thomas would defend me" you scoffed.

"I wouldn't count on it. Because I would take him down too if he tried." He was serious.

You fell back on the seat as your head swam with the madness. You tried to think what you could've done to bring this on.

You had been to the DA's office a handful of times so when you saw the familiar building in the horizon you shrunk further in the leather seat.

Andy pulled into a reserved parking spot as the clock crept closer to midnight.

You didn't belong here. Maybe if you got out you could run for it. Make a mad dash somewhere and call the cops. But what would you say? The DA threatened you with a job, kidnapped you and took you to his office? They would think you were insane.

"Let's start your interview." He announced as he killed the engine. You pursed your lips and frowned deeply.

You were being made to interview for a job you didn't want nor ask for.

“Please, I have to get home.”

Andy paid you no mind, slamming the door in the face of your plea. Your eyes followed him as he headed toward the stone steps to the building.

What did he expect for you to do? Show up tomorrow at your office and sit on prosecutions side? You doubted the judge nor your boss would allow that to fly.

You watched him as you stayed paralyzed in the car. This had to be a joke or a dream. Had you slipped in the parking garage earlier and bumped your head. You tried pinching yourself to snap out of it only to be disheartened by the gravity of this situation.

---

Andy led you down the empty hallways, until he stopped at a door that bared his name.

You stood back while he unlocked it and motioned you to go inside. You couldn't move, dread cemented you in place. It was a miracle he had got you to come this far.

Andy tsked and shook his head in disappointment as he walked inside.

You tried to play back every encounter, every word you could've uttered that could've spearheaded this, but there was nothing.

You would've been surprised if he even knew your name, you couldn't even recall it being mentioned during the depositions.

While you drowned in despair Andy shimmed out of his blazer, tossing it on a chair off to the side.

"You're wasting your potential with Thomas" Andy declared, perching himself on the edge of his desk.

"I can tell your very focused and career driven." He continued on. It was surreal, watching him unbutton and roll up his sleeves. Like a disappointed father ready to reprimand their child.

"I noticed it from the start." The anticipation of what was to come became too much under the weight of his stare. You hugged yourself defensively while warm Tears streamed down your cheek.

It was as if he were a wolf ready to swallow you whole. You squeezed your eyes shut unable to hold his stare.

"Eyes on me" he said firmly. You sniffed uncontrollably as you forced them back open. "Good girl" Andy praised, adjusting his cock. He delighted in this, wetting his bottom lip, reveling in your discomfort.

"With a little more discipline and guidance you will reach your full potential. And I want to help you do that" Andy grunted as he loosened then knot of his tie.

Andy stayed sat before you unmoved by your tears as he slipped the fabric from around his neck, pulling it taunt with one hand while wrapping it around the other.

"You just need a firm hand to mold you. Or you can stay out there and watch as I turn your world upside down."

What could you say? He had you where he wanted you. You held your head low, sobbing to yourself as you approached him. You were no match for the power of the DA's office.

Andy rose from his perch and circled you like a shark with blood in the water. "Hands behind your back." He whispered into the shell of your ear. You looked back at him eyes wet with tears pleading. He sighed disappointed again taking matters into his own hands. You whimpered as he pried your hands from their hold, forcing them behind your back.

"Please Mr. Barber " you chanted as he encompassed your wrist with the tie. Knotting it so tight you feared for the circulation of your hands.

---

Andy's firm body pressed against you, his arms wrapped around you, roaming your body freely. The fabric of the tie burned as you struggled to free yourself. He ripped open your cheap blouse with ease, groping your breast over your bra. You withered in his embrace, unable to fight back.

"You made it hard to concentrate" he hummed into your neck while he played with your hard nipples over the fabric. The heat of his breath and the kneading of your breast electrified the coil that tightened in your core.

You tried to crouch into your shoulders, but Andy cupped your chin harshly. Forcing you to expose your neck to him and endure his assault. You went rigid when his other hand started to trail down your abdomen, tunneling past your waistline in desperate pursuit of your mound.

"Sitting so quiet, taking notes."

Your tears glazed Andy's hand as he forced you to look at him as he plunged beneath the elastic of your panties. His eyes clouded with lust at the sight of your facial contortions. Your clit buzzed as his fingers moved over it. You clamped your thighs tightly around his palm in an effort to stop further intrusion, but he pressed on. Rubbing firmly against your mound repeatedly, sparking an unwanted warmth. You felt shame and guilt as heat pooled in his hand.

"Hmmm so ready to be my perfect little helper." Andy purred.

"Are you ready to be molded by me" he teased. Andy pushed his fingers inside of you, releasing a gasp you could not contain.

"Fuck you're so tight" Andy cursed in your ear while he fingered you.

You bit down on your lip to stop the moan trapped in your throat. The embarrassing wetness, the involuntary moans, it was as if your body no longer belonged to you. Andy manipulated you like a puppet on a string.

You exhaled deeply when he pulled his fingers from you and released your neck. You panted from the over stimulation.

He built up a need and left you cradling on the edge. Without warning Andy spun you by the shoulder to face him.

"Look at you my needy little helper. Ready to learn." He smirked at you.

Your eyes went wide when he began unfastening his belt. You didn't want to find out what he would use that for. Your flight response started to kick into high gear as he closed the space between you.

Reflexively you took a step backwards, almost stumbling to the floor when you tripped on the leg of the chair behind you.

There was no way out of the room without going past him. You doubted you would get far even if you tried. The back of your legs hit his desk, halting your movements.

"Gonna be my perfect little helper?"

You opened your mouth to finally scream, but Andy swiftly rushed you. The grip on your neck felt deadly as you croaked. He leaned his weight on you, tipping you over until you slammed hard on his desk.

Whatever trinkets he had on his desk dug into your back and arms painfully. Andy wedged himself between your thighs, and haphazardly fumbled with his pants. Pushing them down with one hand as he kept you pinned with the other. You bucked and squirmed when you felt his need pressed on your pelvis.

Your skirt had rode up past your waist leaving your thin panties the last line of defense.

"Don't do this please Mr. Barber please I'll work for you please." Choked out incoherently.

You bucked more feverishly when he yanked your panties to the side. The tip of his cock lined up against your entrance.

"That's it. That's my good little helper. So wet for me." Andy praised as his sunk into you as he kept a firm hold on your neck. Your pussy pulsed around him as you strained to adjust. He made you painfully full.

Andy lifted up your left thigh, allowing himself to sink deeper. The added weight of him on top of you married with the pain from your arms.

His focused grip on your neck helped muffle your mewls, but not the sloppy sounds of your cunt. You turned away from his face as he rolled his hips into you. Only to be met with the smiling faces of his family. The facade of his wholesome life seemingly entrained by your predicament.

"Perfect little cunt fits me so well."

Your pussy clenched with every praise to your shame. There was no way to bite back the need he fed deep within you. Your stomach tensed as a staggered moan fell from your mouth.

Your feet curled in the air as your thighs squeezed around him. You felt of mix of shame and disappointment as you came around his cock.

Loosening his grip on your neck Andy could no longer hold himself back. He filled you to the brim, his seed seeped out of you as you milked him dry.

He laid on you briefly, panting heavily before pulling off. Carefully adjusting himself as he watched his cum drizzle down your raw cunt. "Get yourself cleaned up. We have cross in a few hours."

#Dark Andy Barber x Reader #Dark!Andy!Barber x Reader #Dark Andy x Reader #Dark!Andy x Reader #Dark!Andy!Barber x Black!Reader #Dark!Andy!Barber x Black Reader #Dark Andy Barber x Black!Reader #Dark Andy Barber X Black Reader #Dark!Andy x Black!Reader #Dark Andy x Black Reader #Dark Andy X Black!Reader #black writer #asked and answered

206 notes · View notes

coffeecakefanfics · 3 years

Text

Mosaic | B.B x Fem!Reader

An: I can’t tell if I like this but have it anyway

Fluff? idfk

requests are open

words: 2,011

It started innocently enough. When Bucky was brought to the compound Steve had taken the young girl under his wing, treated her as his kid. Though in all fairness she was Stark's actual kid first, she never minded Steve stepping in as a second parent. She actually appreciated Steve and Bucky coming to visit her in her room or when theyd all sit in the living room and watch movies, catching the pair up on things they’d missed.

Steve had to go on a mission, it left a few other Avengers, Wanda, Nat, Bruce, Bucky, and Peter (who popped in every now and then to ask for help from the older girl).

“Hey Guys, can you do me a favor and look at this piece and tell me what you think?” She asked, carrying a large canvas into the Kitchen. Wanda stood at the stove, Pepper was sat at the counter typing on her laptop and Bucky was perched at the table, a cold look on his face.

“Show,” Wanda grinned and turned from the stove.

“It’s for my senior portfolio, my theme is “Lost in Time”,” Y/N spun the canvas, setting it on the table. It was a painting, a painting of Steve and Bucky from the forties, a painting of a picture that to Bucky’s knowledge had been lost. The breath left his lungs and tears sat at the edge of his eyes.

“I Figured I’d paint my two favorite guys, you know, since you literally were lost in time and all,” she gulped the lump in her throat at everyones silence.

“Do, do you have more?” Bucky asked barely above a whisper, his fingers willed him to reach out. Y/n slowly nodded and peeked down at the painting. It was the first thing he’d ever said to her, and her alone. It made her heart skip and her stomach flutter.

“It’s beautiful Y/n. I’m sure this is the one that’ll get you the scholarship,” Pepper smiled and stood, kissing the top of the girls head.

“Thanks Pepper, Hey Wanda how long till dinner?”

“About 30 minutes dear,” Wanda smiled at the girl.

“Okay, Bucky I can. . .Show you the others, if you’d like that,” Y/n spoke slowly, testing the waters. Receiving a nod in response the girl hugged Wanda and kissed Pepper on the cheek before leading the man up to her room. The walls were a soft white and were littered with paintings and posters and vinyl records. Bucky watched as she set the painting on an easel.

“This one is one of Steve, When he was doing the propaganda tour,” she smirked and pointed to the painting.

“That one is of a little boy i’d found in an old photograph, he’s polish. Oh this one, is actually inspired by Gone with the Wind umm, it’s one of my favorite books and movies that’s a period piece,” she motioned to a painting of a woman on a swing in one of the big puffy dresses.

“It was mine too,” Bucky almost, almost smiled.

“I have a copy of both if you’d like to ever read or watch it,” she beamed at him. It set something in him ablaze.

Here she was 25, sitting in her apartment on facetime with her little sister, working on her portfolio

“Morgan I promise to come see you and mom this weekend, I just have work,” Y/n laughed at her sister.

“But I miss you now,” The little girl frowned.

“I miss you too goofball,” her eyes welled up.

“Mommy says you’re going to be famous,” Morgan spoke pointedly into the camera. Y/n let out a chuckle at her sister.

“Don’t jump baby, I still have a lot of work to do,” she smiled.

“Mommy also said daddy would be proud of us,” her heart panged at that.

“He would Morgs, you know, Daddy loved you very much,” Y/n felt tears slip from her eyes.

“Come on Morgan, dinner, “ Pepper spoke, “Say bye to Sissy,”

“Bye, Hurry home”

“I will” Morgan passed the phone to Pepper.

“How are you doing Sweetie?” Pepper had a solemn smile on her face.

“I’m. . . “ Y/n stopped. “I miss him, everyday,” the tears spilled over.

“I know baby, I miss him too. Our door is always open if you want to stay,” Pepper tried not to cry, for Morgan.

“Thanks mom, Give Morgan a huge hug for me okay, I’ll see you this weekend,” Y/n choked. Pepper said her goodbyes and hung up the phone. (E/c) eyes drifted to the larger than most canvas across the room, the canvas covered her dining table and was adorned with a half painted portrait of her dad, Steve and Nat. The memorial piece would be hung publicly at the new Stark Memorial building. She tried to finish it, the unveiling was in two weeks, but nothing felt right. It had been 6 months, 6 long months without her dad, without Nat, without Steve.

A gentle knock drug her attention to the door. She drug her feet as she crossed the room, opening the door as much as the chain would let her standing before her was Bucky and the New Captain America, Sam Wilson himself. She gasped and slammed the door shut, flinging it open and wrapping her arms tightly around Bucky. The tears fell again.

“Holy shit, how, how did you find me?” she asked as she pulled back and threw her arms around Sam.

“Had to ask your stepmother,” Sam smirked when Y/n stepped back.

“In, come in, sorry,” she stepped aside and let the men in. The two smirked at the decor in the apartment.

“You always did know how to make a place feel like home,” Sam joked and let his eyes drift over pictures of her with the Avengers.

She turned her attention to Bucky who shifted in his shoes. “I missed you Buck,” she smiled at him.

“Missed you too doll,” he bit his cheek. “Sorry I didn’t call I-”

“Don’t” Bucky gave her a look. “Don’t blame yourself, you had a lot going on, so did I, but it’s okay you’re here now, so chill,” she smiled and nudged him, earning a light chuckle.

“So what brings you handsome men to my little home?” she joked and pulled down two wine glasses

“Well, we wanted to check on you, it’s been 6 months. Hear you’ve been busy?” Sam questioned, and thanked her when she handed him the wine.

“Yeah um, I managed to get into an art exhibit, and I’m working on a piece for the Stark Memorial building,” she handed a bottle of beer to Bucky. She’d never admit it, but she kept a six pack in the fridge for if he ever stopped by.

“Stark Memorial?” Bucky asked.

“Uh Yeah the memorial building, one of my artist friends is carving the statues out front of Steve, Nat and, Dad, I am in charge of the Painting for the entryway, the one that’ll hang above the door. The memorial is going to display the suits and tech and stuff like that I don’t know the specifics,” She stammered on. The three sat and talked for hours before Sam had to go, it was getting late and he didn’t want to miss his flight in the morning.

“Bucky?” her voice was soft.

“Yeah Y/n?” he looked at her. Regret filled his belly as he took in her frame.

“Do you mind staying a little longer, it’s been a while and I missed you,” her voice was shaking, nervous, scared of rejection.

“Of course,” he nodded and sat back down.

“So therapy?” she spoke, her tone lighter. Bucky let out a groan.

“Do NOT get me started,” he rolled his eyes. Y/n let out a laugh, a laugh that he missed.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to her, in fact he would sit and watch her name light up his shitty phone. He was afraid, afraid that he would get attached, that she would leave him too. That his heart would betray him yet again. He was Afraid of losing her, of loosing the only other person he felt at home with until now.

“I’m proud of you Buck,” she swirled her wine, he hadn’t noticed she’d brought the bottle to the table.

“For?”

“Trusting Sam,” she peeked up at him. A soft pink dusted his cheeks. He took a sip of his beer, missing the feeling of being tipsy or drunk.

“I wanted to call,” he blurted out. His words took the girl aback.

“I just, I couldn’t bring myself to, not after what happened,” he cleared his throat.

“Oh Buck,” she set her glass down and stood up. “Come here,” she held her hand to him. He traced his eyes over her hand, up the expanse of her arm, over the curve of her shoulder, before allowing himself to submit to her. Her hand was soft, warm, clammy. She led him through her apartment and opened a door. She pulled him through. With a flick of the switch the room buzzed to life, her studio. His eyes danced around the murals and paintings that littered the desks and shelves and walls. His eyes were directed to a desk in the corner, a sheet was draped over a canvas. Her fingers lifted the dust colored fabric to reveal a painting that knock the air out of Bucky’s lungs and made his eyes well up. The same effect her first painting had on him now knocked him breathless once again. It was the two of them, sat side by side in the quinjet, his first mission. The two wore huge smiles across their faces. Her hair was set back neatly and Bucky had his pinned back, courtesy of the girl next to him. God only knows what had them all smiled, but that was the moment they realized they needed each other.

The mosaics of paintings around the room started to make his spin, most were snippets of them. Have you ever taken that first sip of coffee? The way it slides down your throat and hits your belly so well it speaks to the soul. The feeling Bucky felt when he looked back at Y/n again. Her hair was messy from work, her lips stained from the wine, the way her clothes fell on her body had Bucky’s head spinning. He felt almost dizzy? Is dizzy the word he felt. He let himself go, entirely, giving in to the craving of her skin on his. He enveloped her in a hug that was nothing short than the blanket of security she had longed for since her dad passed, since Steve left, Since Bucky hadn’t returned her calls. The barrier between the two crumbled as he cradled the back of her neck gently in his hand, the cool metal pressing her back to be closer, willing himself to conjoin with her, to never leave her again. Tears fell from his eyes this time.

“I was scared,” he said. “Steve left me, he chose her, and I didn’t want to lose you too,”? He choked.

“Buck?” He couldn’t respond, only nod.

“Your painting was the one to get my scholarship,” she spoke, her voice was shaky, small.

“I’m so proud of you,” he pulled back, letting his fingers brush over her cheek. “So proud” he pursed his lips.

“I buy plums and beer just in case you come by, I reread Gone With the Wind and the Hobbit when I'm sad because it was your favorite. I sleep with my window cracked because hearing outside made you sleep better. I never wash my clothes on Wednesday because that was your day. I am a mosaic of you and all of your pieces,” the way she looked at him shattered every doubt he had. The way her lips felt against his shattered hers. The two wrapped themselves in each other, relishing in the feeling of releasing pent up emotions.

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut

76 notes · View notes

missjaystone · 3 years

Text

Familiar Faces

Summary: Sam sets out to find his soulmate after his dream life wound up being just that, a dream. He just wants to find his happy ever after. Word Count: 3,930 Pairing(s): Sam Wilson x Reader Warnings: Death (mentioned), Smut, Rough(ish) sex

(This is the sequel to ‘Old Faces’, please read that one first)

Sam didn't tell anyone what happened in his dream if you could call it that; now that he was awake and knew none of that ever happened, it felt like a nightmare or a cruel joke. He dug through old boxes for close to two hours before he found what he was looking for; a box with a handful of pictures from the time he spent with you and Riley before they shipped out. You'd sent the pictures to them not long after they left, he kept them along with the letters you wrote them in a little lockbox. He always kept the key for it on his keychain. He scrambled to look at different letters and pictures for your address, he knew it was on there somewhere.

Half an hour and a dozen groans of frustration and he finally found it! '3197 N 10th St, Washington DC', it was written clear as day and he could recognize your handwriting from a mile away; it was always a little slanted to the side and it was usually smudged in at least three places because your hand always ran across it when you wrote or went back to dot your i's and cross your t's. "FRIDAY, can you look up the owner of 3197 North 10th st in Washington, DC? And their contact information?" He called out to the AI. There was a confirmation sound before it answered in 20 seconds "it's owned by Richard and Owen Johnson." He frowned some "can you look up anyone named y/f/n y/l/n in DC?" Another sound before the AI answered him "there are two thousand four hundred thirteen people with that name." He groaned "how many of them went to the FBI academy in Quantico?" "None," the AI said almost immediately. "Open the search nationwide-no, global, then crosscheck it with anyone who served or actively serves as a special agent with the FBI or any of America's agencies," he ordered, he was getting nervous. His mind started to wander; what if something awful happened to you? The AI's voice broke him out of his thoughts "there is one person in the United States that fits that criteria."

"Where? Where is she?" Sam asked excitedly. "Records indicate she lived in New Haven, Connecticut the past year but a rental application for an apartment in Greenwich Village can be found as well, both dated within the past two weeks." Sam's hopes were quickly rising as he wrote the new address down. "Where's the closest VA office to her apartment?" Sam finally asked after debating. He couldn't just show up on your doorstep out of the blue, but showing up at the VA in the hope you'd go there like any other veteran wouldn't be so weird would it? He'd look the place up online and find a meeting schedule later, now he just wanted to go back to sleep for a bit.

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

After visiting the VA for two weeks, and no sign of you, Sam was beginning to lose hope and get worried again. Steve encouraged him to go out for a drink with him and Bucky if only to distract him for a night. Bucky all but dragged him with them when Sam said he'd rather not. On the car ride to the bar, Sam figured a couple of drinks wouldn't hurt, what's the worst that could happen. He took a seat at the bar and ordered a beer, looking around the crowded bar curiously. He'd only been there for ten minutes when he decided to get out for some fresh air, slipping away from his friends while they were briefly distracted. He didn't know where it was taking him but he followed the part of his brain that told him to walk down the street. Maybe he followed his mind, hoping the pull would somehow lead to you. He wanted nothing more than to believe that soulmates had a special bond that pulled them together, maybe that's just what he needed to think to stay sane.

He needed to believe all the stories he heard growing up about soulmates being pulled together, about how nothing could keep them apart from one another. He may have denied it initially but he was well past that. No other woman he saw made him feel the way you did; he knew they never could. He started walking past a park but stopped, not giving it a second thought when his mind told him to go in. With it being almost 9 on a weeknight, he wasn't surprised the park was devoid of kids and adults. Then he saw the figure sitting on top of the monkey bars and he smiled to himself.

"Little late to be out isn't it?" He asked when he stopped a couple of feet behind the figure. "Says the man who's also out at this time," was the reply, accompanied by a quiet laugh. "I had a dream you were here, you know," Sam admitted sheepishly. If it wasn't so dark out and he wasn't behind you, you would've seen his blushing face "I mean, not here exactly, I had a dream you were in New York. I've been looking just about everywhere for you." "Work keeps me busy, I've technically lived here for two weeks but I've only spent about three days in town," you answered. "Understandable," he said with a quiet, nervous laugh. A silence filled the space around you both. Sam knew what he wanted to say, what he needed to say. He sighed quietly and bit his lip "I'm sorry I disappeared on you after we lost him. You needed someone to lean on and it should have been me. I shouldn't have let my own emotions consume me and leave you in the dust," he finally said.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Sam, losing him was as huge for you as it was for me. I was never mad at you; your feelings were your own and you did what was best for yourself. I can't be mad at you for taking care of yourself," you told him, finally looking over at him. He started to argue but you knew what he'd say "I mean it, Sam. I don't ever want you to feel bad for taking care of yourself. You knew what you needed, I knew what I needed and that's that." "I thought you blamed me for his death though, I should've-" he started to argue. You shushed him "people always want to find someone to blame when things go wrong, even if that person is themselves, it's supposed to make it easier to accept I think, because if someone is to blame, then a bad thing didn't just happen, it had a reason behind it. There's nothing you could have done to save him, you were both doing your jobs. I know you think it's your fault but it isn't, Sam, and I never thought otherwise."

Sam smiled, he felt like a weight he didn't even know he carried had been lifted. He'd heard it before but it only ever took away part of the blame he felt. Hearing it from you made it feel true, you saying it made him believe it. He felt like he could breathe again. "You know, I didn't want you to be my soulmate," he said, eyes widening immediately in embarrassment. That's not how he wanted it to come out. "Ouch," you mumbled but held back a laugh. You'd seen him nervous before, it was usually a little entertaining. "I mean I did! Don't get me wrong, god I wanted it but I always worried I'd be too old for you, you know. I didn't want you to get stuck with someone old enough to be your young dad, I thought maybe you'd be able to find someone closer to your age, someone who wasn't friends with the guy who basically raised you," he rambled quickly.

You rolled your eyes and let out a laugh before leaning over the edge of the monkey bars until you were hanging upside down, face to face with him "why would I do that? I didn't have a bond with anyone else the way I did with you. Age be damned, I was an adult when we met, and I was and am more than capable of making my own choices." "Maybe I was just too scared of being rejected then. Do you know how much it's supposed to hurt when your soulmate rejects you?" He asked with a small hum, his hand gently coming up to cup your cheek.

"Oh please, who in their right mind could reject you?" You asked and flashed a small smirk. "God you're a pain," he said jokingly before stepping forward and planting his lips on yours in a gentle kiss. It had a passionate, longing feel to it, like it was something you'd both been waiting for ages for it. Your hanging upside down made it a little awkward but that didn't deter either of you. You tried to pull him closer, only to struggle; you lightly shoved his chest when he laughed. "So, I'm not getting rejected right?" Was the first thing he said when your lips separated. His tone was joking but even in the dark, you could see the nervous look on his face. "I'd never reject you, Sam; I love you," you told him, looking directly into his eyes so he knew you meant it.

He beamed a bright grin, rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone softly "I love you too, I wish it hadn't taken so long for this to happen, for us to finally end up together." "Me too, Sam," you were grinning from ear to ear as you looked at him. "Can I take you out to dinner tomorrow?" He asked happily. "I'd like that a lot, maybe you can tell me what you've been up to and why two men are staring at us," you stated with a grin. When he gave you a confused look, you nodded past him where two men were stood at the park's entrance, trying (and failing) to look nonchalant and acting like they weren't trying to eavesdrop. "Shoo!" Sam yelled when he looked back at them. He let out an exasperated sigh and an embarrassed chuckle "just a guy who ripped my steering wheel out of my car while I was in it and another guy who likes to show off by frequently running past me. Don't worry, they're just lonely old men, I promise they won't always be around to watch like that." You laughed and grinned "well I can't wait to hear those stories."

When the blood rushing to your head became too much, you finally got off the monkey bars and stretched. You didn't hesitate to kiss him, this time wrapping your arms around him. His own arms were around your waist in an instant, drawing you close until you were flush against his chest. This one was sweeter than before, it was calm and comforting. "How about we go grab a bite to eat right now? There's a pretty good burger place open until midnight a block and a half away," he offered. "Then what're we still doing standing here?" You asked sarcastically, a teasing smile on your face as you took his hand in yours and laced your fingers together. "That's my girl," he laughed to himself and begin walking with you. "By the way, was that Captain America watching us?" You asked after walking in comfortable silence for a couple of minutes. "Yup, unfortunately," Sam chuckled. "So you're either a superhero or some kind of terrorist now?" You teased. "Yeah, but if I tell which one I'd have to kill you," he said with a playful nudge to your side. "Right," you said sarcastically, both of you immediately bursting into laughter. Life felt right. You felt happy for the first time since your godfather's death.

The walk was quick and since it was almost 9:30 at night, almost nobody else was there so you got your food quickly. "So, we're fighting this guy in an airport, and I swear I don't think he's ever been in a fight before because he is so damn talkative. I mean it, he won't shut up. Anyway, he shoots this white substance at us, which in and of itself is unsettling and we're stuck on the ground. He's still talking and it's like a villain's monologue except it wasn't terrifying, it was annoying. I call in Redwing and he just launches this guy out the window and then Bucky says 'you couldn't have done that sooner' and I so badly wanted to smack him or at the very least send him flying through a window," Sam explains, rolling his eyes dramatically while you laughed, having to put down your burger so you didn't take a bite and choke. "And Bucky's the one who ripped your steering wheel out, right?" You asked, just to be sure. "Yup and every day with that dumbass is a test," Sam laughed and grinned. "Well, it's a good thing you have experience with dumbasses, huh?" You asked jokingly. "You know I do, baby."

You and Sam actually wound up staying at the place until they closed at midnight. Once you left, you two just began walking around, savoring each other's company and getting close again. "You wanna go back to my place? It's not that far from here," you offered with a smile. "Really? I thought you lived in Greenwich, I saw the apartment application online," he admitted before coughing and clearing his throat; he really didn't want to mention how much information he looked up online. "I applied to it but found a place here in Manhattan I liked better," you'd question him later about that little tidbit of information he had.

True to your word, the walk to your home was only fifteen minutes tops. "Sorry about all the boxes everywhere, I'm still unpacking everything," you apologized with a sheepish smile as you closed the front door behind you. "I've seen worse, baby, don't worry about it," he said with a casual shrug and a smile. Another silence fell upon you as you looked at each other. Even being together, there was still a pull and you both felt it. He gently pulled you to him and kissed you. This time, the kiss was desperate and hungry, consuming both of you. He held you by your hips, keeping you as close as physically possible. Your arm wrapped around his neck while your free hand cupped his cheeks as the kiss became more heated. It was like you suddenly couldn't get enough of each other.

When Sam finally broke away from the kiss, a small groan leaving his lips as he looked down at you with lust-darkened eyes "where's your bedroom?" "Down the hall, last door on the left," you mumbled, already dragging him down the hallway as you spoke. You'd taken two steps into the room when he picked you up and semi-gracefully tossed you onto the bed. He quickly moved to cover your body with his, caging you beneath him as he attacked your neck with kisses and a few soft bites. There was an urgency in both of your movements as you each hurried to undress the other while trying to keep as little space as possible between your bodies.

Soon, clothes were strewn across the bedroom; your bra was thrown over the lamp on your bedside table, his boxes landed in front of your dresser with his pants not far away. His fingers delved deep into your core and moved slowly, the little moans and gasps of pleasure spurring him on. The way his fingers repeatedly grazed over those spots you had trouble reaching even with your best toys had you melting underneath him. He watched with a proud, adoring smirk as he brought you right up to the edge before stopping and pulling his fingers out. He chuckled when you groaned in frustration, looking up at him pleadingly "Sam!"

"Hm?" He asked, a small teasing smirk on his face as he slowly licked them clean. You narrowed your eyes for a second before returning a teasing smirk of your own "either fuck me yourself or I'll use one of my toys while you sit in a corner." Sam tried to hide the way his eyes widened briefly "you wouldn't dare." You nodded with a smug smile on your face "well, my friend got me a new thrusting vibrator as a joke gift and I haven't had time to use it yet." You looked at each other in a silent staring contest, daring the other to do something. "God damn it, I can't tell if you're bluffing," he mumbled before crashing his lips to yours in a fervorous kiss which you were more than happy to return.

Sam haphazardly wrapped your legs around his waist and after impatiently lining his member at your entrance, he slowly thrust into you. You both let out groans of pleasure, your head falling back onto the pillow while he buried his face in the crook of your neck. He started dragging his hips slowly, just savoring the feeling of being with you in a way so intimate he thought he'd only dream it. Once he got more comfortable, he set a slow pace, savoring the feeling of each slow drag of his hips. Your soft moans were music to his ears, and knowing that he was the cause made his heart swell. "I love you so much," your voice was soft and breathy, he could tell you were right there with him on cloud 9. You looked so peaceful as he slowly fucked into you and if he could take a picture, he'd do it in a heartbeat. Your eyes closed and lips slightly parted from the pure bliss you felt. If only your eyes were open, you'd have seen the switch that flipped in his mind when you softly moaned his name.

When he got comfortable, he slowly pulled his hips back until the tip was just barely in before slamming back into the hilt, smirking at the loud moan you let out. He moved his hips fast now, making sure to reach the innermost depths of your cunt with each stroke of his cock. "F-fuck, S-sam!" You almost screamed when he started roughly playing with your clit. He smirked down at you, eyes completely dark now as he asked: "yeah, you think a toy can do this? Can a piece of plastic fuck you this way?" He pinched your clit when you took too long to answer him, making your words hitch in your throat, his hips pistoning into you brutally. You quickly shook your head while your nails dug into his shoulders, a quiet 'no' leaving your lips as you shook your head. "Louder, I want everyone to hear it, I wanna hear you tell everyone who fucks you this good," his voice was becoming husky and his thrusts came harder, punctuating every few words.

"You, Sam! No-no toy can fun me like this!" You shouted, body beginning to shake as your orgasm quickly crept closer. "Yeah? Who's girl are you, huh? Don't you dare cum until I say so," He demanded, grabbing your jaw and making you look directly into his eyes. "Yours, Sam! I'm yours!" You choked out, a low whine following your words while a few tears of pure pleasure ran down your cheeks. "Who owns your cunt, baby? Scream his name so all of New York knows and then you can cum all over my dick," he demanded again, squeezing your jaw slightly. His own hips were stuttering as he did everything he could to hold back. "Sam!" You screamed his name like a prayer before being blinded by white-hot pleasure as you came undone beneath him. A strangled groan escaped his throat as he came, his face falling to your chest as his hips rolled slowly. He could hear your heart pounding in your chest before he reluctantly pulled his softening member out of you and collapsed next to you.

He watched your panting form for a few moments before he got up and went to the bathroom. When he returned with a damp rag, he moved the covers away and gently cleaned your combined arousal from between your legs, frowning some at the way your body jolted at his touch. "I didn't hurt you did I?" He asked nervously. You shook your head, sending him a lazy smile "no, no I'm fine, Sam." "Are you sure? Because I know I got a little rough. I have no idea where that came from, I just-when you moaned my name it set something off I guess," he rambled with a nervous frown still on his face. With a quiet groan, you made yourself sit up so you could look at him. You cupped his cheeks and smiled "that was the best sex I've ever had, I'm fine, just a little sore because it's been a while." "How long?" He asked curiously before he could stop himself. You laughed some "three years, like I said work keeps me busy." He smiled and laid down, carefully pulling you with him "that makes both of us, baby."

The way he slowly rubbed your back made you melt in his embrace, sighing happily. He planted a soft kiss to your temple and yawned "I love you so much, (y/n). There's no place I'd rather be in this moment, or ever again." "I love you too, Sam, so damn much," you whispered, eyes falling shut as you snuggled close to him. A comfortable silence filled the room but only for a minute before Sam spoke again "wait, are you on anything?" You shook your head "we'll deal with that in the morning, I don't have the energy right now."

He fell silent but you could feel his eyes on you. When you opened your eyes again to look at him, you couldn't quite read the expression on his face "what?" He bit his lip in thought, debating on whether to say what was on his mind "well, what if we didn't deal with it?" "What?" You asked him, your confusion evident. "I'm just saying, what if we didn't deal with it, y'know. What if we just let whatever happens happen?" He suggested sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke. "Sam, are you suggesting that we-?" You asked, your brain unwilling to find and utter the words. "Look, (y/n), I spent all these years without you and now I feel like I have to make up for lost time. Don't worry, I'll respect if you aren't ready or don't want that. I just want you to know that's where I'm at," he said softly, absentmindedly playing with your fingers.

You'd never given much thought to family life but thinking about it with Sam, having children and raising a family together, it sounded appealing. It suddenly felt like something you couldn't live without. You pecked his lips softly before resting your head back on his chest, closing your eyes "let's just go to sleep and see what happens in the weeks to come." You could hear the fondness in his voice when he spoke "if it's a boy, can we name him Paul after my dad?" "Obviously, now turn the light off and go to sleep," you mumbled tiredly, earning a tired, quiet laugh.

#Sam Wilson Fic #Sam Wilson Smut #Sam Wilson #Falcon #Samuel Thomas Wilson #MCU #Marvel #James Barnes #Dark!Steve Rogers #Anthony Mackie #We need to give Sam Wilson more love #ByJayStone

85 notes · View notes

sebbytrash · 4 years

Text

Riley

Summary - Sam is having one of those nights so you take him to your secret happy spot within the compound.

Pairing - Sam Wilson x Reader

Warnings - None that I can think of.

A/N - Short but sweet. written for Samtember for the “Riley” prompt @samwilsonfest

It’s dark. The complicated kind, the kind that can go one of two ways, coax secret smiles and tentative touches or ragged breaths and haunted eyes. Neither are the kind you want, and so you sit idly in the kitchen of the Avengers compound, wishing for the first and avoiding the second. The coffee in your mug is cold, barely touched, sitting abandoned on the table beside your head.

Footsteps, quick but quiet, interrupt your thoughts about nothing and you sit up quick enough to forget about the mug and send it crashing to the floor in a wave, a sad brown sea of forgotten.

Sam halts in front of you, wide eyed and wary, his muscles rigid underneath his shirt pulled tight across his chest. Oh, what a chest. “Shit. You scared me.” He says it like an accusation, and then bends to pick up the pieces of your broken mug as you slide off the table and hope that the ground will give way and let you be swallowed up if only to avoid his eyes.

“Sorry, Sam.” You say automatically, and then add, “In fairness, you scared the shit out of me, too.” You mop up the coffee with your sweater, stripped from you in a less than graceful motion and still, ignore Sam’s eyes.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’m sorry, too.” He laughs low, stands with the pieces and throws them in the trash, you watch wistfully and half heartedly wish to be one of those pieces, anything to avoid Sam’s scrutiny in the dead of night, “I wasn’t expecting anyone to be up.”

“Oh, you know me. Anything for the last slice of Bruce’s apple pie.” You stand, attempt to scoot past him to wring your sweater in the sink and brush up against that oh so lovely chest of his, feel the weight of your fingertips just aching to touch.

“Any reason why you were lying on the table like an animal?” He asks, amusement evident in his tone and so you look, finally, at his eyes and allow yourself a small smile, a tiny moment of self indulgence to get lost in the decedent walnut depths and find yourself somewhere along the edge of his lips.

“I heard it’s good for posture.” You blink away your stares, pray that none of that want shows on your face, “Why are you up?”

His face crumples, not into a feeling but out of one, it crumples into a blank dust and you wonder if you can catch the particles in your hands, if you can mould it back to that smile he had just for you. “Couldn’t sleep.” Is all he says and you know instantly that he’s having the second kind of darkness, forcibly stopping your arms from reaching for him when you see the sadness that hides in his eyes.

“Riley?” You whisper it, like a knifed secret and he nods, once, the tiniest dip of his chin and you wonder how much it cost him to admit even that. You have no words to offer him, no wisdom or advice as you sit here avoiding your own traumas and so you grasp at something, anything, that might chase away the shadows behind his eyes. Finally, you consider it, your secret and it takes less than a second to know that Sam is worth the reveal of it. “Wanna come somewhere with me?”

“Sure.” Even he seems surprised when he agrees so readily, takes a step toward you, almost eager and you fight the urge to do the same, to finally find out what it would be like to have that marble-solid body pressed against yours. You mentally scold yourself for the constant turn of your thoughts, that even when he’s a little lost, you still find the time to admire.

You take his hand, a bold move your heart mutters, and lead him to the stairs, up and up and up you both go in the quiet echo, surrounded only by the memories and the glaring fluorescent lights. He lets you lead him without question, even when you pass the communal floors, still says nothing when the last floor dies away and the stairs continue and the cool air begins to spill in beside you. You thrust against the final door, using all your bodyweight to nudge it open and let the breeze dance along your skin.

Sam follows you out onto the empty rooftop, looks around in confusion, “I had no idea this was here.”

“Yeah, nobody does, for some reason.” You walk to your spot, affectionately named but marked only by the memories in your eyes, “I come here to get away. Never seen anyone else up here.”

You wonder if he’ll hear what you say without saying, how you’ve never, not once brought anyone here and yet here he is, brought on the basis of bad dreams. He looks at you and you think he just might.

You sit down on the hard concrete and pat the spot beside you, slip your shoes off and wait until he sits with you, until his body heat bleeds into yours and then lay back. In an instant, the worries disappear, you feel weightless, the sky above you carries it all off and lets you float in the air in between the stars. It’s always like this for you, the sky and the stars, and sight of them here so unhindered by city lights and tall buildings, a solar dusted blanket that wraps around you each night.

“Oh, wow. That’s a view, right there.” He sounds how you feel, and you try not to notice his arm pressed along yours, or the way he smells like hopefulness.

“You see that one there,” You point, try to adjust your angle for him, “That’s Polaris. The North Star.”

“I see it.” He keeps his voice low like he feels the weight of the stars like you do.

“And that there, if you follow it, is the Little Dipper. And there is Cassiopia.” You whisper into the night, watch the breeze carry away your words and the night swallow up your ghosts.

“I didn’t know you knew so much about stars.” He turns to look at you, his now russet eyes that look a little less sad than before, reflecting all that quiet endurance. You grin before you can stop it, the relief at having helped even just a little is simply too large and it overwhelms the rest. There’s just something about the sky up here, with all those stars and worlds and lifetimes in view that makes you a little calmer. Clearly, it was doing the same for Sam.

“I dabble.” You blink at him, refusing to be the one to look away from that stare, “There’s something a little humbling about the sky, dontcha think?”

He looks away and up to the sky, the stars reflect in his eyes like the night sky itself and you know then that you’ll never only see the sky again. Forever it’ll be, the sky and Sam. You hate how much you love it.

He makes a noise of agreement and then, softly, he lets his fingers tangle with yours in that narrow space between you. Your heart leaps straight from your chest and dances among the stars. The breeze picks up, perhaps in response to your heart rate, and you shiver, a little from his touch and a little from the cool air, belatedly remember that your sweater was now a soggy heap in the sink and sigh.

“Your cold.” His fingertips disappear and you ache at the loss and wonder if the moment is over now, if he’ll make you go inside but he simply slips his arm around you, and pulls you tight to him, letting your head rest in the crook of his shoulder, “Here, let me help.”

If there’s a heaven, you think, it’s pretty damn close to this. Or perhaps, it’s less heaven and more purgatory since you both love it, and want more. Ache to be closer than even this.

It’s hours, or minutes, later when the sky is a little less dark and a little more wakeful that he speaks, “Can I ask you something?”

“Hmm? Yeah, of course.” You say, distractedly, caught between the stars and his heartbeat and never wanting to return.

“Why did you take off your shoes?” The question startles a laugh out of you, the unexpected pop to a dazed bubble.

“Oh Sam,” You smile, tilt your head to look at him better, “How else will the stars get in?”

He looks at you in buttery confusion, and then suddenly, like he’s never seen you before, or is seeing you anew. There’s stardust in his eyes and it’s spilling into yours, his moon-washed smile lights up the sky with his resilience and promise.

“Sam…” You begin, and find the word itself swallowed by his lips, gentle against yours with the stars inbetween. He kisses you, all the weight of the sky wrapped up in it and you kiss him back just the same. All the months and weeks of restraint come loose in a tidal wave of want, and need, and love. It lasts a lifetime in a minute, so many unsaids and maybes passed between your lips and his.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while.” He sighs, forehead pressed against yours like he can’t bare to be apart now that he’s been this close. You know the feeling, fingers gripping his shirt so that the moon can’t carry you away when it leaves.

Still, the admission surprises you, having spent so long hiding your own feelings for fear of rejection, “You have?”

“You are hilariously oblivious, you know that?” He kisses away the protest, kisses you and shows you how much he’s been wanting it, you, and you feel every word of it written on your lips. Even the stars don’t compare. “Ever since I walked in on you trying to sneak that goat into Stark Tower.”

“Sam…” You laugh, both at the memory and of when, “That’s the day we met.”

He smiles, wisps of red and orange from the rising sun dance along his skin, his eyes alight with the fire from within, “Oh, I know.”

Your heart lifts with the sun, a painted star on your soul that begins the new day, your new day. When you kiss him again, in answer to a question that was never asked, you feel the glow on your face and within your chest together, and are reminded, tenderly, that the sun is also a star.

Forever Tags:

@manawhaat @captainrogerss @higherfurtherfasterbby @peculiar-persephone @captain-rogers-beard @chrisevansnco @howlingbarnes @poealsobucky @samingtonwilson @vintagevalentinex @abovethesmokestacks @imhereforbvcky @avengerofyourheart @stormy-thomas @danijimenezv @betheboo55 @palaiasaurus64 @raxacoricofallapatoriuspotter @johnmurphys-sass @katbird787 @sexyvixen7 @jobean12-blog @justreadingfics @justareader @smoothdogsgirl @theliarone @aikibriarrose @timeladylaurel @badassbakers @earinafae @tardis-is-mine @httpmcrvel @bucky2-0 @mocking-rain @sociallyimpairedme @jezzula @bless-my-demons @ign-is @indominusregina @-supernatural-coffee-llama @alwayshave-faith @shifutheshihtzu @mizzzpink @yknott81 @haven-in-writing @xtina2191 @reniescarlett @notsoprettykitty @wickedwerewolf @tatalopes23 @pineapplebooboo @mizzezm @thefridgeismybestie @memory-of-a-goldfish @supernatural-girl97 @standing-onthe-edge @ruinerofcheese @mysweetcookie99

#kale writes #sam x reader #sam wilson x reader #falcon x reader #marvel fanfic #samtember 2020

191 notes · View notes

buckybeardreams · 3 years

Text

Unwanted

Chapters: 5/11

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Brock Rumlow, James "Bucky" Barnes, Clint Barton, Harley Keener

Additional Tags: Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Steve Rogers, Omega Tony Stark, Service Top, Dominant Bottom, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Virgin Steve Rogers, Brock Rumlow is a Good Bro, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Romantic Soulmates, First Meetings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sappy, Romantic Fluff, Awkwardness, Drinking to Cope, Self-Worth Issues, Insecure Tony Stark, Insecure Steve Rogers, Age Difference, Harley Keener is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Bonding, Claiming Bites, Claiming, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Non-Explicit Sex, Light Dom/sub, Mutual Masturbation, Coming Untouched, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000

Series: Part 1 of Second Chances

Summary:

Steve is a soft Alpha and Tony is an in charge kind of Omega with no desire to find a mate. He doesn't want to find his soulmate and when he does meet Steve he's determined to stay away from him.

That is until he realizes just how right they are for each other.

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10 Ch 11

Can also be read here

Words: 2,258

Tony bit his lip, looking at his reflection in the mirror. His hair was sticking up in weird places from trying and failing to sleep last night. There were bags under his eyes that made him look like he hadn't slept in weeks and, well, really that wasn't too far off. Sometimes he drank enough to pass out for a little bit here and there, but he never just got a solid night's sleep. To be fair, Tony didn't sleep all that well even before he found his soulmate and then pretty much rejected him by never calling him.

Tony didn't sleep well when he was alone, but even when he wasn't and he did fall asleep instead of tossing and turning restlessly before giving up and going for a cup of coffee, Tony didn't sleep more then five hours tops unless he was passed out drunk. So maybe that's one of the reasons that he drinks so much.

He wasn't drinking right now, well, not much. He had a couple of beers, but that was nothing. Just a little something to take the edge off before he went to re-meet Brock's new mate. Tony sighed, took one last look at his disheveled appearance and flinched away from it, grabbing his jacket off the back of the couch before heading out.

It was a cold day, windy and blustery with clouds hanging overhead that threatened to soak the inhabitants of the city as they walked down the street in large groups, pushing and shoving, each desperate to get where they're going before the rain ruined their hair or makeup. Tony was far less concerned and when the rain did come down and he was left with wet hair clinging to him and soaked clothes and a gloomy atmosphere that the rain couldn't wash away, well, he thought at least his hair wasn't sticking up all over the place.

He showed up on Brock's doorstep and was relieved when it was Brock who opened the apartment door. Brock was grinning, but it faltered slightly when he saw Tony.

"Hey, you okay?"

Tony nodded.

"Yeah, 'course. Now are you gonna invite me in or make me stay out in the hall for dinner?" Tony said, trying and failing to sound like his usual snarky self.

Brock still looked concerned, but he nodded and stepped aside to let Tony in.

"Yeah, of course, come in."

Tony entered into a small hall, kicking off his shoes before heading further into the apartment. He froze when he saw Steve sitting on the couch next to Sam. Tony's heart raced in his chest and his mind was thrown through a loop, because what the fuck was his soulmate doing here?

"Tony, this is Steve, Sam's friend." Brock watched him anxiously, wondering how he would react.

Steve was staring at Tony, clearly just as caught off guard as Tony was. Steve looked far more put together than Tony did, like he wasn't completely miserable about his mate rejecting him, and didn't that just make Tony feel way worse about looking like a wet rat. Sam's confusion quickly gave way to understanding as he put the pieces together. Anthony, who works at a bar, and is Steve's soulmate. Of course it would be Tony. By the looks of it Brock was already aware of this. Sam sent Brock a stern look and Brock returned it with a sheepish one.

"What?" Brock asked innocently, going to settle in his Alpha's lap.

Sam rolled his eyes, but hugged him close. Tony and Steve were still staring at each other, neither one moving or saying anything. Tony was the one to break the silence after a few more awkwardly drawn out moments.

"No, you're not Steve." Tony shook his head in denial. "You can't be Steve."

Steve's mouth opened and closed a few times like he was trying to say something, but couldn't quite get the words out.

"I am... um, Steve," Steve managed to get out, blushing over how awkward it was.

Tony rubbed at his temples and shook his head again.

"No, I can't- I can't do this right now."

Tony headed straight back to the door, grabbing his shoes, not even bothering to put them on, and walked out. Steve whimpered, looking hurt and lost and like he kinda wanted to chase after Tony, but was also afraid of just being rejected again. Brock just groaned, grumbling under his breath about being way too fucking stubborn before heading after Tony.

"That's- That was my soulmate," Steve said, somehow sounding both shocked and heartbroken.

"Yeah, I kinda got that," Sam said, resting a hand on Steve's shoulder. "You okay, man?"

Steve swallowed and nodded, but truthfully, he had no fucking clue if he was okay or not. He was completely blindsided by the sudden appearance and then just as sudden disappearance of his soulmate and he had no clue how to feel about that. He thought devastated might be the right word, but then somehow that didn't seem like it fit at all. Steve felt like he was dying, and no, he did not think that was an exaggeration.

*****

"Tony, stop!" Brock called out to him. "Don't make me run after you."

Tony groaned, coming to a halt at the end of the hall and turning to glare at Brock.

"You knew," Tony accused.

"I did, or at least I was like ninety percent sure about it."

"You should have told me. You know how I feel about Alphas."

"I know, but you told me-"

"I know what I said!" Tony snapped. "Don't use my own words against me. I confided in you and you used it against me."

Tony swallowed back the lump in his throat, feeling betrayed and confused. He wanted an Alpha, but he didn't want the things that inevitably would follow, like being controlled or looked down on. Most of all he was scared that Steve would be perfect and Tony wouldn't be good enough for him.

"Tony... I'm sorry, but I knew you were going to be stubborn about this. You told me that you regret not calling him. This is your chance to get to know him. You might like him if you give him a chance."

Tears pricked at Tony's eyes. He wasn't worried about not liking Steve, well, he was worried about that. Mostly though he was worried about falling too hard, too fast, only to be rejected. He wasn't the kind of Omega to just submit and say yes, sir. He had opinions and dreams and no intention of letting anyone else tell him how to live his life, but those weren't the kinds of things that most Alphas wanted in a mate.

"Tony, I've spent time with Steve and he's literally the softest Alpha I've ever met, and I'm mated to Sam so that's really saying something. My Alpha is totally wrapped around my finger."

Tony smiled a little at that.

"Sam does seem nice... for an Alpha," Tony teased.

Brock laughed and nudged his shoulder.

"He is and Steve is too. Just talk to him, Tony. See what happens."

Tony groaned, but let Brock lead him back to the apartment. Steve was still in shock, only a few minutes having passed since Tony walked out. It wasn't nearly enough time to process what had happened and suddenly Tony reappeared. Tony shifted on his feet, his hand slipped into Brock's, his palm sweaty. Brock squeezed his hand encouragingly and leaned closer to whisper in his ear.

"Do you want some space?"

Tony licked his lips, not sure he wanted this at all, but he owed himself this. He needed to at least try or he'd always be left wondering if it could have worked out. Besides, Brock was not going to let this go until Tony at least gave it a try. He swallowed down his fears and nodded. Brock nodded, pressed a kiss to his cheek, and pulled Sam deeper into the apartment. Steve and Tony stared at each other and it started to feel tense and awkward.

Tony groaned.

"We need to talk."

Steve looked nervous, certain that Tony was about to reject him, but he nodded.

"I don't like Alphas," Tony blurted out when the silence dragged on.

Steve flinched like Tony had slapped him.

"Oh," Steve said, unable to hide his disappointment.

He just knew that his Omega was about to reject him and Steve wasn't sure he would survive the rejection.

"Yeah..." Tony said. "I'm willing to give this a try though, but if you try to go all Alpha on me..."

Tony shook his head and Steve's brows furrowed.

"I don't like the way Alphas feel entitled to an Omega's body. Like Omegas are beneath them and only there for an Alpha's pleasure."

Steve bit his lip, not wanting to get his hopes up. He was pretty sure his Omega was suggesting that he wanted to be the dominant one in their relationship. Or maybe he was just saying he didn't want to submit to an asshole Alpha. Either way, Steve could definitely work with this.

"I would never force myself on you, Anthony."

"Tony."

Steve blinked at him in surprise before smiling softly. He didn't want to assume that Tony was comfortable enough with him to use a nickname, but it touched Steve to know that his Omega was trying. Tony wanted to give this a try even if he was worried about it and that was enough for Steve. He would be the best Alpha ever, because he would be exactly what Tony needed him to be. He knew already that he'd give Tony anything he wanted and he'd try his best to be whatever Tony wanted him to be.

"Tony," He breathed out.

The word rolled off his tongue like velvet and Tony felt all fluttery inside. He cleared his throat, feeling the urge to escape the foreign sensation.

"How old are you even?" Tony blurted out, feeling awkward and uncertain in a way that he hated feeling. He was so not used to the warm feeling inside of him or the desire to go to Steve and touch him and be held close.

Steve blinked at the question, caught off guard by it.

"Um, I'm not that young."

Tony raised a brow at him and Steve squirmed.

"You look young," Tony pointed out.

"I'm legal!" Steve said defensively.

"So you're what? Eighteen?"

Steve looked down at his feet, looking awfully small for a six foot, two hundred pound hunk of pure muscle. Tony took that to be a yes.

"You're what? Ten years younger than me?" Tony said, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're practically still a pup. I can't date you."

Steve pouted.

"I don't want to date you. I want to mate with you. I want you to be mine."

"That's infinitely worse," Tony said, flinging his hands up in exasperation. "You do realize that right? That's so much worse."

"No, it's not. There's nothing wrong with an age gap, besides no one would judge us for it. The goddess chose you for me," Steve insisted.

Tony rolled his eyes.

"Or maybe she chose you for me. Ever thought that maybe it's not the Alpha that owns the Omega, but the Omega that owns the Alpha?" Tony snarked.

Steve blushed.

"Okay," Steve said, a little breathless. "I'll be yours, if only you'll have me."

Tony narrowed his eyes at him.

"You'd let me own you?"

"God, yes. Please, just don't reject me."

Tony licked his lips.

"Okay, come here, pup ."

Steve's blush deepened at being called a pup, but he didn't object to it. The moment Steve was within reach Tony grabbed his shirt and slammed their lips together, turning them so he could shove Steve up against the wall. Tony's hair was still dripping wet and his shirt was drenched. It got Steve wet, soaking through his own sweater, but he didn't care.

"Okay, then, pretty Alpha. You want to play, then let's play," Tony said, coming as close to a growl as an Omega could.

Steve gasped when Tony's hand grasped him in between his legs and groped him through his pants. His face lit up bright red and Tony smirked at his blushing Alpha. He was so fucking sweet. Tony thought that maybe, just maybe, this could work out, but they were going to have to agree on one very important thing if there was going to be any chance of them mating.

"Let's be clear, I still want your knot, but I'm in charge here and you do what I say or I'll throw you out and you won't get another chance."

Steve swallowed, nodding rapidly.

"Yes, sir."

Tony smirked, licking his lips.

"Good boy," Tony purred in his ear, his tongue darting out to lick his neck, his teeth sharp on his skin.

Steve whimpered, his head falling to the side to give his Omega better access. Clearly, the goddess knew what she was doing when she paired them up, because this was better than Steve had dared to hope for. Steve had always been excited about having a mate, but he had always thought he'd present as an Omega. When he didn't, he was concerned that he'd never be a good enough Alpha, but the moment he saw Tony in that bar he knew that he was in love, knew that he'd do anything to please this man.

Now here they were and Tony wanted him, wanted to use him, and Steve was in heaven. There was nothing that he wanted more than to please Tony, to be used by him, to be ordered around by his pretty little Omega.

Tony tried not to think about how young and naive Steve was. He didn't want to admit that a part of him was thrilled to be more experienced, to be the one teaching his Alpha about pleasure. It was pretty obvious that Steve had no experience, because when Tony kissed him Steve had no idea what he was doing. He had no rhythm and he clearly didn't know what to do with his tongue when Tony licked at his lips and dove inside his mouth. Tony thought it was cute though. Steve squirmed and whimpered, his blush spreading down his neck, and Tony ate it all up.

"Fuck, you're cute," Tony groaned when he pulled away. "Maybe I'll keep you after all."

4 notes · View notes

asgardianthot · 4 years

Text

Flesh And Bones – Part 9

Soulmate AU

Series Masterlist

A/N: oof this took a while! second to last :( gonna miss cracking my head with this fic lol never again shall I just wing it without a clear idea of how to end a story.

*Important: Hydra base scene but I won’t depict a tortured Bucky, he doesn’t always have to suffer at the expense of his ex-captors and I’m honestly getting tired of the obscene amount of torture fics out there!! Consider this an anti-trigger warning but also a threat? Idk enjoy

The anguish never went away.

Two days later, Bucky found himself knocking on Sam’s door, his heart on his hand.

There was no answer behind the thick walls, but Bucky knew he was there. Somehow, he felt it deep in his bones.

"You okay?" he asked.

The sound was muffled inside Sam’s room, both from the structure separating them and the external sounds that made their way in through the open window. There, Sam rested both hands on the lower frame as he stared outside, more focused on the wind and noise that drowned down his thoughts than the actual view. Bucky’s interruption made him realize he didn’t know for how long he’d stayed in that frozen position.

He slid down the window until it hit its frame, "Yeah, why?” he lied nonchalantly.

His mind was racing. As time passed and brought the team closer to the Hydra raid, Sam worried for Bucky. Not that he wasn’t prepared or that he was being reckless, because he knew that wasn’t the case. What had him worrying was the idea of Hydra potentially targeting Bucky. Although Natasha had assured him a million times that there was absolutely no chances that this was a trap, Sam’s mind couldn’t help but wander around horrible ‘what if’s, ones that compromised his soulmate because Hydra’s finest assassin had escaped them, so they were likely to want revenge on the man. Maybe even try to get him back under their grasp. And if Sam was deprived from the option of saving him, he wouldn’t know how to live anymore.

Bucky’s answer, however, got his head out of the dark cloud.

"I don't know. I feel weird." Barnes mumbled from across the door, loud enough to be heard though.

The last three words alone were enough to bring Sam towards the closed door. Bucky felt him. He felt weird, and wondered if Sam was alright, and he went to check up on him. As soon as he faced the mildly pouty lip, the big brown eyes, the badly concealed worried frown, he wished for nothing else than to kiss that pout away.

Which he did very aggressively. Sam brought his body against Bucky’s, he cupped the brunette’s face by his raspy cheeks and crashed their lips together. He didn’t wait for Bucky’s tongue to dance with his, he made it. When they stopped to regain their breaths, and the make out was over, Bucky looked confused, but in the best way possible.

He caught his breath with an amused look, "Okay."

Sam wanted to laugh with him, address his flourishing emotions, but his worry was far greater. So he showed the man inside and gestures to follow him. They both sat at the end of Sam’s bed.

“Yeah, there’s something wrong.” Sam admitted.

Barnes’ tone became sterner and more precautious, “What?”

Wilson held his hand before speaking.

"Tony said there's no rules or anything.” He reminded the latter of their informative chat with Stark, “But he did make it seem like there was some sort of... I don't know, some sort of progression.”

"What do you mean?"

Sam inclined his head like he was pushing himself to say the next thing out loud, "You've been really nervous lately."

Bucky didn’t flinch, yet he wasn’t comfortable either. The idea of Sam knowing that, finding out that he wasn’t as relaxed about the raid as he wished to play it out, was a quick disappointment.

"Guess you could say that." He looked away.

"I know that.” Sam emphasized the word while at the same time lowering his volume to attain a more intimate tone, “I don't think I should be able to."

Bucky simply shrugged.

"Why can I tell when you're anxious?” He had to insist on his concern. “How come you do too? It doesn't make any sense. Unless..."

"Hey.” The soldier stopped him, already knowing what scenario Sam was forming inside his head, “There's no step back here.”

Given Bucky’s certainty was convincing, and he was becoming aware of the fact that he was overthinking, Sam still couldn’t shake off the sour feeling of approaching danger.

“You’re supposed to be the sane one here, Sammy.” Bucky laughed, which brought a warm feeling deep in Sam’s chest because of the employed nickname, “We're okay. It doesn't have to mean anything, remember?"

That was enough for Sam’s heart rate to drop considerably. Bucky managed to calm him like that.

"Thank you.” Sam said genuinely.

Nevertheless, Bucky could read him. Hell, he could feel his dark feelings not shifting away. So he went into the gray zone he didn’t think he would be approaching anytime soon.

“Is it because of Riley?” he dared to bring up the subject.

Sam was more than taken aback, but he blinked to dissimulate. They had only ever talked about Riley once before, in another heart-to-heart, and it had brought tears to Sam’s eyes. Bucky knew everything, their friendship that was always something more, the love declarations left unsaid, the part where they saved each other’s asses in Afghanistan. Riley was the reason why Sam trusted the universe to be kind, even without a soulmate. He was the reason Sam told everyone you can love without a bond, because that memory was all that was left of the dead man.

“What do you mean?” he let the words out minimally.

“Are you afraid to lose me like you lost him?”

Sam shook his head, rejecting the mere thought of comparing the two men, almost desperately. There were open wounds that he hadn’t had the courage to heal yet. He cleared his throat and tried to shrug it off.

“He, uhm… He didn’t have that crazy serum of yours.” Sam faked an absent mind, although he failed, “You’re not the same.”

Bucky could see right through him.

“Exactly, I’m not Riley.” He grabbed Sam’s chin endearingly. “I heal fast, and you’ll feel me the entire time, and I get that you’re scared, but so am I. It’s why we got each other, right?”

Sam’s vision became less blurry when his soaked eyes dropped a single tear each. They rolled down his cheeks and were wiped away by Bucky’s thumb.

“I promise you won’t lose me.” He ensured his soulmate, who allowed himself to be held and rocked until he felt like talking again.

“Everyone on comms?” Steve’s voice barged into everyone’s earpieces.

As soon as the five other voices replied, Rogers gave them the orders required to execute the raid perfectly.

The first two floors would be empty, according to their lead, for they mainly consisted of dirty storage units meant to distract anyone from even getting close to finding the real base. So, those floors were their entrance and their escape, if ever needed. Hopefully, they would imprison everyone, realistically speaking, a few would be taken out in the process, perhaps killed. Whatever may come out of the raid, Steve Rogers had a whole alphabet of backup plans.

First off, they had to disperse. Steve and Rhodey walked upstairs as silently as possible, reaching the third floor in minutes. Meanwhile, Bucky and Natasha moved forward and explored the premises with their guards up. Romanoff’s excuse to pair with him was that they both had experience with these kind of organizations, although they everyone was rather aware of the fact that she was keeping an eye on the man Sam was worried about. Bucky ignored the reason behind it, and made no comment as the pair was left behind by Sam and Wanda, who walked upstairs.

When the first line of Avengers broke down the door in one swift blow, shield and blasters up with anticipation, they found the entire floor empty. After a confused glance between Rhodes and Rogers, they lurked around every single corner and behind every single door. Nothing.

“This wing is clear.” Rhodey said through his earpiece.

Although it didn’t seem to upset the rest of the team half as much, Sam was experiencing his fair share of anxiety. He looked up to the ceiling, as if he could burn a whole straight through and peak at the floor in question.

“Where are they?” He whispered to himself.

A minute later, Steve sent another command, “I need guns on the front line.”

Barnes rolled his eyes in mocking of his best friend.

“Nobody talks like that, Stevie.” He taunted him.

Yet Steve didn’t appreciate the joke, for he was far too tense. His eyes moved around frantically, looking for a possible trap, which his paranoia was leading to.

“Guns first.” He repeated himself clearly, “Something feels off.”

But nobody got there. Before Bucky or Natasha could even reach the stairs, a set of loud noises surrounded them. In every floor, metal doors fell from the ceiling, blocking exits and doors. These doors weren’t too intense, but their tech hadn’t picked up on them, which meant they were expected. Every Avenger found themselves trapped in their respective zones. As for Barnes and Romanoff, they were too apart from each other to even see the other’s face.

So, deep in his fear, Bucky raised his gun and checked every wall his sight could reach, almost waiting to be attacked. If Natasha was completely honest, she would have bet Bucky was a target, as well. That is what everyone’s minds went to, especially Sam’s. Luckily, he had the company of Wanda right next to him to feel calmer.

"Everyone okay?" Rhodes checked.

Sam and Wanda replied with their status and whereabouts, but after a lack of response from the other two, the man confirmed their status on his wrist screen, only to see that Barnes and Romanoff were off-line. He figured they must’ve been trapped downstairs.

"We gotta move fast.” Steve ordered, keeping his Captain-like calm, “Try to get to the control panels, if not, evacuate. They know we're here."

Wanda and Sam. Walking slowly. Careful. Not many places to hide, but there must be a way out.

“He’s okay.” Wanda let Sam know.

They walked side by side, as slowly as possible. There weren’t many places to hide nor another entrance that they knew of, on the second floor, yet they remained precautious.

“What?” Sam let out without paying much attention.

“I’m saying, he can take care of himself.”

Once Sam understood that Wanda was playing the best friend card in letting him know she knew Bucky to be strong, he realized he probably looked too worried.

He fought back his frown. “I know that. I’m just…”

“Anxious?”

“We’re trapped in an underground intelligence base,” He sighed loudly, “shouldn’t I be?”

The statement earned an acknowledging nod from Wanda, who waited a few more seconds to press his earpiece and reach the Captain.

“Steve? You think it’s okay if I tear down a wall?” She asked for permission to jump into action.

“No.” Steve denied her dryly, “Bucky and Nat are on their own, we won’t engage until they’re safe.”

The young woman shut her eyes with annoyance, “Okay, Steve? You’re not helping Sam stay calm.”

She received no further comments. Everyone felt too powerless after all. No comments.

Down in the bottom storage, the place began to look more like a maze. It was a mess of similar, dusty hallways and old, closed doors. Natasha tried each and every single one of them, but they were useless, and she figured they wouldn’t get her anywhere, anyway. It might as well have been an underground cellblock.

“Barnes, give me a sign.” She asked for a second time.

Bucky indulged her, complying with her attempts at finding each other. Together meant safer.

He thought hard about his whereabouts, “East wing’s on my… left side.”

“I can’t get through to anyone else.” Romanoff finally said what seemed obvious to both of them.

The soldier couldn’t help but take a deep, calming breath, for it was a much needed one. He gripped his gun harder, trying to ease himself.

“Me neither.” His mouth spoke in disconnection with his brain, which was submerged in paranoia by now.

Natasha could sense that.

“We’re okay.” She did her best at calming him realistically, as she looked around for a way to find him, “You said east wing? I think I got you, Barnes.”

Suddenly, a gunshot was clearly heard, making Natasha turn around in a haze, only to find herself alone, and realize that the shot came from afar.

“Crap.” Bucky groaned, his communicator still on.

After the sound of three other guns and what appeared to be Bucky’s rapid machinegun, the woman panicked.

“Talk to me.” She ordered him.

"I got hostiles!" Barnes screamed over the noise of his own weapon.

As soon as Natasha realized she could hear where the attack came from, she followed the echo, running. Eventually, the sound drowned out.

“Bucky?” she asked, fear crippling through her.

There was no reply but the sound of Bucky panting. She managed to find a grilled gate, which she shot and kicked open easily, all the while her mind raced to the worst case scenario. Sam had trusted her with his soulmate’s life.

Finally, she hit the scene: two dead bodies on the floor, both hostiles. The soulmate’s life was still intact.

“Good, you’re alive.” She breathed out, pretending she wasn’t just losing her mind mere seconds ago.

Nevertheless, she quickly noticed that Bucky’s panting was linked to whatever made him hold his ribs so painfully. Then, Bucky removed his flesh hand from that zone in order to look at it, revealing to both of them that the hand was covered in blood. As terrified as Natasha was, her expression couldn’t match Bucky’s.

"You’re shot." She stated with wide eyes.

Bucky swallowed hard, "We have to find Sam." He said roughly.

As Romanoff processed Bucky’s fear, the latter looked around for an out in desperation. He was worried that Sam was hurt. Sam, who couldn’t bleed out from a soul bond wound, while Bucky had his fingers pressed against a pool of red.

"He'll live.” Natasha approached him carefully, “You, on the other hand..."

Barnes shook his head. "Sam first."

Wanda was known to save the day without too much effort. Turns out, the Hydra base was covered in desperate traps because they were too vulnerable to withstand a raid. Therefore, the witch tore down the metal walls and flew up to help Rhodey and Steve, who didn’t need too much aid as it was. Sam stayed down, fully aware that the other three were probably kicking ass, and still worrying. He ran downstairs as soon as the blockade was taken care of, in need of finding Bucky safe and sound, even if he knew that he was.

And he knew he was okay, because Sam himself hadn’t felt a single sting. Not a gunshot, not a bruise, not even a scratch.

So, if Sam felt untouched, then Bucky must be.

Finally, he heard the pair, and found them at the bottom of the stairs. He jogged the last few steps and noticed that Bucky was holding himself up against the wall, limping. The latter looked up with big, concerned eyes.

"You okay?" He asked Sam.

That was when Sam saw the bloody hand pressed against his soulmate’s chest. Natasha was helping him stay on his own two feet, while Bucky examined Sam’s body like his own life depended on it. Technically, that was the whole deal. Wilson pushed his own hand against Bucky’s and frowned.

"Did you get shot?" he shouted in despair, his eyes as big and afraid as ever.

"I'm sorry. I tried-" Bucky tried, but cut himself off with a grunt of pain.

"Buck." Sam grabbed his torso.

"Let's go home." Bucky begged.

"Yes. We will.” Sam’s tone became serious and authoritarian, “Sit down."

"I'm fine."

"He's losing a lot of blood." Natasha confirmed Samuel’s suspicions.

In between the frantic commands and worrisome looks, Bucky couldn’t help but notice Sam’s lack of discomfort. Almost like he hadn’t felt a gunshot in his chest a few minutes ago.

He frowned with confusion, "Why are you-?"

"I didn't feel it.” Sam shrugged it off, way more focused on the open wound, “Sit down. Bucky."

"What do you mean-?"

"I didn't. Bucky!” Sam grabbed the face of the stubborn, hurt man with his free hand, smearing blood all over his cheek, and yelled to his face. “James! Listen! There was no bond. Right now, that's not important. You're bleeding out."

"They didn't hurt you?" Bucky seemed to finally understand.

“No!”

The new information hit Bucky like a soft, warm wave of tranquility. If Sam wasn’t hurt, if Hydra hadn’t hurt Sam, then he didn’t need to worry. He could breathe. And as he breathed, he felt a sharp pain in his chest, along with some heavy dizziness.

"That's good." He mumbled, looking past Sam with lost eyes.

"It is. Now calm the fuck down." Wilson begged, trying to take a good look of the wound.

Bucky nodded, finally compliant, "Okay."

With that last word, Bucky’s eyes rolled back into his skull, and he surrendered to tiredness. He stopped feeling anything other than her very light head, until everything went black.

"Shit.” Sam cursed under his breath, catching him before he hit the ground completely.

He eased his partner’s fall and let the passed out body rest against the wall.

“Give me a hand.” He asked Natasha.

They managed to sit him straight against the wall, in order for Sam to press his hand against the bleeding gunshot. Nat said something over the communicators for the rest of the team, which Sam didn’t fully catch, before she knelt down next to her friend. She examined the wound, then Bucky’s pupils and let out a breath.

“He’s gonna be fine.” She appeased Sam.

“I know.” Sam said without giving it too much of a thought.

The woman gave him a wondering look.

Sam merely shook his head with uncertainty, “I just do.”

#sambucky fanfiction #sambucky #soulmate au #fatws #tfatws #sam wilson x bucky barnes #sam wilson/bucky barnes #sam x bucky #sam/bucky #marvel fanfiction #sambucky angst #sambucky fic #the falcon and the winter soldier #tw: death #tw: gunshot

53 notes · View notes

alexisn11233 · 3 years

Text

Blog 1-6

Get Out

As someone who cannot really watch horror without having nightmares and thinking about, Get Out is a film I admired and watched even before taking this course. Watching Get Out years ago when I always stay away from horror movies is a huge step for me and I definitely did not regret watching it then. However, after watching the sensational film, Get Out for the second time, I definitely noticed large symbols depicted in the film.

I didn’t have any knowledge on the momentous symbols portrayed throughout the film when I had watched the film for the first time a few years prior. Had I never taken this course I would have never known of the hidden meanings Jordan Peele imputed throughout the film. For instance, I had never even considered the sunken place of being a symbol for mass incarceration. However, I can’t stop thinking of how talented Jordan Peele and others that have worked on the film to bring such a powerful meaning to the movie that is a large issue with people of color.

Another large symbol that was shown in the film was the deer. In the scene where Chris and Rose are on the way to Rose’s family’s home, they hit a deer. Rose is not too interested in the deers wellbeing, whereas we see Chris strongly concerned. He then finds the deer dead, which causes Chris to tear up. We then saw the deer towards the end of the movie where another deer was hung up on the wall in front of Chris while he was trapped in the chair by Rose’s family. He then uses that same deer head to kill Rose’s father. Another theme I saw with the deer was how Chris had to get out of the car after hitting it and check on the deer. Chris’s actions during that scene stems from severe trauma he has endured with his mom being killed in a hit and run. The driving deer scene is not the only segment where Chris’s actions were determined by the event of losing his mother from a hit and run. We also see Chris doing the same thing towards the end of the movie with Georgina. He ran Georgina over in order to escape from being killed, however, he couldn’t bare to leave her alone and die. This is probably because he knew there was some life leftover from the real Georgina and he didn’t want to leave her alone to die just as his mother did. The event of the hit and run with his mother had a massive impact on Chris’s decisions throughout the film, one time being life or death for him.

To conclude, there are countless symbols in Jordan Peele’s movie that have been cleverly imputed and have spoken volumes, whether it’s racial themes that exist in today’s world or connections. However, these are the symbols that really stuck out to me having analyzed the film. I am grateful to learn all of this knowledge and look at the movie differently because of this course, it made me look at this great film very differently, and see things from a new perspective.

BLOG 2

After watching Jordan Peele’s second most popular film, Us and discussing it in class there was a plethora of symbols throughout the movie. In today’s blog I’d like to get into the themes and talk about the movie in depth.

In the beginning of the movie we are introduced to a little girl and her 2 parents at the pier which we later find out is Red. Red goes to the hall of mirrors where the tethered are and comes across Adelaide. After that we are not sure why the little girl is acting differently and her parents go to a psychologist. At this point in the movie the viewers don’t know what happened until the end of the movie which explains how Adelaide switched places with Red. We are then introduced to the main characters which are the Wilsons. The Wilsons are a middle class family who take a vacation to Santa Cruz with their friends who have kids the same age. We are first introduced to this white middle class family (the friends) when they meet at the beach. This is where the first theme is seen, isolation. We can see that the Wilsons are the only black family surrounded by white families, which creates a sense of loneliness. Even though the Wilsons experience the feeling of isolation, they are a privileged black family. They can afford to rent this beautiful house during their vacation and Gabe being able to buy a boat.

Another theme would be the Preparedness and Survival Mindset. When the Wilsons first encountered the tethered in front of their house Gabe’s first reaction was to handle the situation himself. When they learned the police wasn’t coming for a while Gabe quickly grabbed a baseball bat as a weapon and was preparing. Although they were more fearful when they first broke into the house after the scene where Red explained who they were by the fireplace, the Wilsons quickly went into survival mode. Whether it was tricking the tethered or running them over with their car the Wilsons quickly got into the survival mindset and were not willing to give up.

That being said there were many themes and symbols in the film, many were not listed. This movie was very well done and was very much so a plot twist that I didn't see coming at all. The themes of isolation, privilege, and survival mindset were the ones that stood out to me the most while watching the film and reviewing the lecture.

BLOG 3

Eve’s Bayou

Eve’s Bayou is about a little girl, Eve and her family. She has 2 siblings, a beautiful mother, and a father who is a doctor and they live in this small area. The dad is seen as some kind of superhero to everyone and is unfaithful to his wife. Eve just wants to be the apple of her father’s eye but is jealous from the attention her older sister and younger sister get. The movie starts out showing a party thrown by the family. In the scene we are shown the father dancing comfortably with another woman who is not Eve’s mother so we quickly suggest something more is going on. He later sleeps with that woman in the shed where Eve fell asleep in and catches his father doing the act. Eve is traumatized and doesn’t tell her mother, but she does tell her sister. Her sister who believes her father can do no wrong and is in denial convinces Eve she made a mistake in which she saw.

The most climactic moment of the film is when Eve’s sister, Sicily is acting completely different or depressed. They don’t know what’s wrong with her and she finally tells Eve what happened to her. That their father kissed Sicily then hit her. Eve is infuriated that her father abused her sister but is not allowed to tell anyone what Sicily told her in private. She decides to go to the “crazy” voodoo woman so she can kill her dad for what he did to her sister. The dad eventually dies not from the voodoo but from being shot by an angry husband whose wife Eve’s father was having an affair with. We then later learn after the father is dead, that Sicily was lying and twisting the story the whole time. Sicily was in love with her father and was rejected by him when she tried to kiss him. Eve is furious once she learns this and believes she is the one that killed her father for no reason.

In the film, we saw the themes of curses, voodoo, manipulation, and deception. Eve’s aunt Mozell loses her third husband in a car accident and everyone including herself believes she is cursed. We see the theme of voodoo with the woman with the face paint who has a stand at the marketplace who Eve goes to for help in killing her father. We also see manipulation from Sicily when she tries to convince Eve that she didn’t see anything happen in the shed because she was in love with her father. She also manipulated and deceived her sister into thinking that her father hit and abused her, when she twisted the story because she resented him for rejecting her love.

To conclude, Eve’s Bayou included many themes and is very different than other black horror films, which I really enjoyed. I wasn’t scared or waiting for something horrifying to happen, but I was very much intrigued.

BLOG 4

The Girl with All the Gifts

When you first watch the movie, we see a bunch of normal looking kids in a prison setting who are locked into chairs. We are then shown all of the kids in a classroom where there are guards watching them and they are strapped into their chairs. We are then introduced to the main character, Melanie and Ms. Justineau. Ms. Justineau is not like the rest who treat the kids like monsters and are disgusted by them. She sees them as children and is particularly fond of Melanie. She even nuzzles Melanie��s head in the same scene in which the guards barge in and forbid her to do that ever again and show what these “abortions” are capable of. We, the audience also learn more that these children are called abortions.

Abortions are half human half hungry but they are still considered alive. They are kept in this prison strapped into the chairs in order for the humans to be safe and in control of them. However, they are also experimented on and killed by Dr. Jean. The reason why they are experimenting on the kids is to create a vaccine. The rest of the world is filled with hungries that are trying to dominate the world and unless they find a vaccine the rest of the humans will become hungries.

Eventually they need to evacuate just as Melanie is about to be killed by the Dr. The hungries take over. The guards, Ms. Justineau, Melanie, and the Dr. venture out keeping Melanie in this mask like thing to control her urges at some extent. Throughout the journey Melanie helps them survive and they start to look at her differently, everyone but the Dr. who still sees her as a test subject that is the key to the vaccine. During the trip the Dr. gives some information to Melanie in which Melanie later remembers that causes everyone to become hungries. This is when Dr. Jean is almost about to die and gets Melanie alone and tries to manipulate her into letting her experiment and kill her for it will help Ms. Justineau. As Melanie is about to give in and is having a heated conversation with her she remembers what Dr. Jean told her about the growing spores they had seen. She asks the Dr. why it must be us sacrificing for you guys (humans). She then leaves the Dr. and runs to light the spore like tree on fire, which will either be destroyed or the disease that makes humans into hungries will be airborne, therefore, everyone will turn into hungries. Well, it doesn’t get destroyed and everyone is turned into hungries. During this time Sergeant Parks who was once disgusted with Melanie and her kind went out looking for Melanie to make sure she was alright. He was then exposed to the airborne spores and was turned into a hungry but did not want to end up as one so he told Melanie to kill and shoot him immediately, in which she did. This showed me that as soon as the Sergeant began to let his guard down and see Melanie as a caring child rather than a monster he ended up turning into something horrible. The ending was the most interesting for me. Ms. Justineau was in the enclosed pod teaching a class to the Hungries and Melanie only this time she was the one “locked up” and they were free. This showed the domination of Hungries being the new humans of the world.

BLOG 5

Candyman

Candyman is like the boogie man in which he is an urban legend. They say that his spirit can appear by someone who says Candyman fives times in the mirror. Once he is there he kills the person who summoned him using his hook that is attached to the bloody stump of his arm. Helen, who is a white woman, hears a rumor that someone was killed by him and that there have been tons of similar murders. Helen and her friend then decide to say Candyman in the mirror, however, no one appears and nothing happens. After, Helen writes about how people use Candyman as a way to deal with their problems. She and her friend then go to where a murder took place and notices offerings that were for Candyman.

Helen and her husband then go out with a Candyman expert, who tells them that Candyman was the son of a slave who was also an artist who painted portraits of rich white people with land, as well as their families. But then he fell in love and had a kid with one of the daughters of the white landowners. The expert then says that a lynch mob set up by the daughter’s father came after him where they cut off his right hand. Not only that, they took his cut hand and put honey so he could attract bees to sting him, so he can be stung to death. They then burned his corpse and scattered his ashes on the land that was now Cabrini Green.Helen is later attacked by someone who is in a gang and calls himself Candyman, all while carrying a hook. After she is assaulted and tells the police, they believe he is responsible for the murders. But then, Helen is approached by the real Candyman in a parking garage, he tells her she has discredited him. Helen then becomes unconscious and wakes up covered in blood. He then later breaks into Helen's apartment and cuts her neck, she then bleeds and passes out. Bernadette finds Helen at her apartment and is killed by Candyman and Helen is blamed for the murder, they then place her in a psychiatric hospital. She tries to prove she’s innocent when she speaks with her psychiatrist and summons Candyman, who then appears and kills the doctor. A lot happens after but basically Candyman was in love with Helen, but she died in the end.

The new adaptation of Candyman has many differences. One being that the new one is set in the United States, instead of the UK. Candyman is black and is a victim of racism and the setting takes place at a black housing project, Cabrini Green. Helen, the lead white woman is attacked in this film by black thugs and Candyman is actually falling in love with her. Candyman can also be summoned by someone if they say his name five times in the mirror.

BLOG 6

Beloved

The movie Beloved is about a former slave, Sethe, who is living in Ohio post Civil War. However, her and her three children are terrorized by this demon-like creature that scares away two of her children. Years later, it’s just Sethe and her one daughter named Denver. Until one day a former friend of Sethe, Paul shows up. He decides to stay with Sethe and Denver. One day Denver finds Beloved and loves to have her around, but then finds out she is actually Sethe’s reincarnated daughter. Sethe’s daughter, Denver decides to keep this a secret from her mother. However, one night Beloved casts a spell on Paul and rapes him. Paul then wants to tell Sethe what happened but then professes that he wants to have a baby with her. But then when a confidant of Paul hears of this, he tells him the story of how Sethe was raped by the nephews of the schoolteacher. And how they whipped Sethe leaving nasty scars on her back. She was very pregnant with her child and she was trying to escape. She was then raped while searching for her husband in the barn. The nephews pinned her, raped, and took her breast milk.

When she managed to escape she met a white woman, Amy Denver who helped treat her and her injuries, as well as delivering Seth’s child (ther daughter is named after this woman). She then got to Baby Suggs house, but the schoolteacher came to collect Sethe and her kids. In a panic, Sethe slit her eldest daughter’s throat, as well tried to kill the other children. She said she rather her kids be dead than enslaved. But they stop her and leave disgusted. Paul now understands where the poltergeist comes from, and decides to leave. After, Sethe then discovers that Beloved is actually her dead daughter. She then spoils her, while forgetting Denver. But shortly after, Beloved causes chaos and things start to fall apart. Sethe is unable to work and Denver becomes depressed.

To solve the problem of Beloved, Sethe’s coworker performs an exorcism. It leads to the disappearance of Beloved and Sethe and her family are finally free. A few months later Denver and Paul run into each other in town and he sees a change in her that she’s grown up and matured. But when he comes back to the house, he finds Sethe to be very sick. She tells Paul that she lost the best thing, Beloved, where Paul tells her that she herself is the best thing.

#blackhorror

1 note · View note

afictionaladventure16 · 5 years

Note

Could you do an imagine of peter Parker having an older sister and is dating Bucky Barnes (maybe make her personality all shy and clumsy)

Sorry, this took so long!! I Kept editing it!! Anyways, hope you enjoy it!!

Bucky Barnes x Peter Parker Sister!Reader (Imagine)

“Come on, Y/N!” you heard your little brother Peter say as he ran up to the building ahead of you guys, he’d been wanting to show you the famous Avengers building ever since he himself has become one. You were one of the only ones to know about Peter’s secret, after all, Peter couldn’t keep any secret from you. You would instantly know if he were hiding something. That’s just how close you two are, even with the six-year age difference.

“Slow it down, Parker! I’m an old lady!” You could already tell Peter was rolling his eyes.

“I’m just excited to show my older sister off,” this made you roll your eyes.

“I got a bad feeling about this,” you muttered to yourself. You followed Peter into the building, he called out to his friends or co-workers, you’re not sure what to call them.

“You’ve got a bad feeling about everything,” Peter whispered, “come on, Y/N, I just want to show off my older sister, you’re never around anyway.”

That stung you for some reason, you always tried to be there for Peter but since you’ve been traveling for so long, you have been distancing yourself. “I know and I’m sorry for that, Peter. But I promise all that’s going to change now, especially since I’m home now.”

Peter smiled at you, “I’m so glad you’re home,” he walked up to you, engulfing you into a brotherly hug.

“That was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen!” An unfamiliar voice said, you quickly turned around and noticed a man with a goatee staring at you and Peter, a man known as Tony Stark.

“Mr. Stark! I want you to meet someone!” Mr. Stark made his way over to the both of you.

“I’m assuming you’re Peters older sister, the one he won’t stop rambling on about,” He gave you a small smile as you shook his hand.

“That’s me,” you said as you gave Peter a small glare.

“He speaks so highly of you, trust me, spiderboy won’t shut up about it. Get’s annoying sometimes,” Tony said with a sigh.

“I had to live with him, I know how annoying he can be,” you said with a small smirk.

“Hey!” Peter defended.

“Anyways, Vision wanted to speak with you,” Tony said to Peter. Peter looking over at you, “don’t worry, I can give her a tour, honestly, I give the best tours here.”

Peter rolls his eyes, “I’ll see you later for lunch, sis!” he looks over at Tony, “take care of her,” he said softly as he walked off.

“Charming young man, isn’t he?” Tony said as you both watched him walk away.

“Yeah, he sure does act like he’s older than me, though,” you scoffed, you always thought it was annoying, but you knew he only did it because he cared.

“He cares,” Tony smiled, “Come on, let me introduce you to some friends.”

I followed Tony towards what looked like a living room but it was so spacious. “Wow,” I mouthed as I looked around the room, I noticed a group talking amongst themselves.

“Well, well, well, who is this fine young lady?” I heard a voice say,

“This is Peter’s older sister, Y/N,” Tony said as he gestured towards me.

I saw a man walking towards me, gently grabbing my hand as he placed a small kiss on my hand. He sure was a charmer but not my type, “It’s very nice to meet you, Y/N.”

“And you are?” I asked as I gently yanked my hand away from his grip.

“Sam Wilson,” he grinned.

I gave him a simple nod, “rejected,” I heard a lady’s voice say. I couldn’t help but stifle a laugh, “this is Nat,” Tony said as he gestured towards her. “Famously known as the Black Widow.”

“It’s so nice to finally place a face with the name, you know your little brother doesn’t stop talking about you,” Nat said as she walked up to, giving you a firm handshake.

You smiled, oh how you were going to use this to your advantage later with Peter, “so I’ve heard,” you said.

“Hi, I’m Steve Rogers,” An all too familiar looking guy said as he came up to you, giving you a handshake.

“You’re Captain America,” you whispered. You noticed that you were about to fangirl, I mean, how couldn’t you? It’s freaking Captain America for heaven’s sake! “Sorry,” you quickly apologized but he just grinned, “it’s perfectly fine,” he said.

He turned to a dark-haired man, that stood behind him, “this is Bucky.” He seemed shy, from everything you had known about Bucky Barnes from all the history museums on Captain America, you had thought that Bucky would be more extroverted in a way. Never shy.

“Nice to meet you,” you gave him a small smile and for some reason, you didn’t know why but you just felt so shy in front of Bucky. He gave you a smile, and you swear you felt your heart melt.

Tony introduced you to the rest of the Avengers. Nat was the first to suggest drinks, of course, you couldn’t help yourself to a drink though.

“She’s cute,” Bucky said to Steve as they stood a distance from Y/N.

“Who?” Steve asked as he looked around.

Bucky rolled his eyes, “Peter’s sister.”

“Ahhh, explains why you went all shy in front of her,” Steve mumbled, “Why don’t you go talk to her?”

“talk to her? You crazy?”

“Hey, the Bucky I remember would’ve had her number by now.”

“Yeah, well this Bucky is different, plus girls now are different… Also, I haven’t been on a date in a… A LONG TIME,” Bucky sighed, “What would I even say? I don’t have any pick-up lines…” He wanted to go over and talk to you, but he noticed that you were deep into a conversation with Nat. So instead Bucky just stood there as Steve began to have a conversation with Sam about who knows what.

Bucky couldn’t help but notice the way you threw your head back as you laughed. He found your laugh to be the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. He thought of what Peter might do if he found out that he had gone and asked his older sister out, I mean the kid was strong enough to beat him in a fight. But it was worth the try.

“I’m going to do it,” Bucky smirked,

“You don’t even got game,” Sam said.

“What does that even mean?” Bucky looked at Sam with a confused expression, Steve just shook his head, knowing exactly what his best friend was about to do as Bucky walked up to you. Bucky leaned his elbow against the counter and winked at you, “How you doin’?” You stifled a laugh.

“Oh Buck,” You heard Steve mumble.

But you found Bucky attractive and charming, and you knew his story, so you found it adorable that he used a Friends line on you, “pretty good baby, how about you?” you winked. You don’t know why you did that, you felt so embarrassed inside for doing that. Bucky looked at you shocked, surprised that you had responded that way, “don’t test me, boy, I’m a huge friend’s fan,” you defended

He was still in awe, “I just finished it! Peter actually got me to watch it.”

“Oh yeah?” He nods.

“He’s a good kid,” Bucky said.

“Yeah, well, I helped raise him, I mean yeah Aunt May put in most of the work but for a while, it was just me and him and well… after what happened to Mom and Dad… Peter and I needed each other more than anything.” You chuckled, “I’m sorry, I tend to overshare when I’m comfortable.”

“It’s okay.”

You got up from the stool, but your foot got caught in the bottom of the stool, you were expecting the impact of the floor meeting your face but instead, you felt someone’s arms catch you.

“Should be more careful next time,” Bucky breathed out.

You chuckled as Bucky helped you to your feet, “yeah, I have the tendency to trip over the air.” You grabbed your glass that sat on the counter, “want to join me on a walk?”

“S-sure!” Bucky seemed surprised you had asked him to join him. You guys began to walk down the hall, “So, how big is the age gap between you and Peter?”

“Six years,” You said softly.

“So, that would make you-“

“Twenty-two going onto twenty-three.”

“Any boyfriend?”

You blushed and shook your head, “No,” You whispered, “absolutely not.”

Bucky wondered why you were so negative about it, “any particular reason?”

“Have you seen me?” you chuckled, “it’s the main reason as to why.”

He shook his head, “I have seen you and trust me, I am so surprised you are not taken.”

You blushed again, “you’re just saying that to be nice.”

“No, I’m not,” Bucky said, “You’re gorgeous, I mean, Sam instantly hit on you as soon as you walked through those doors.” You shrugged but you knew he was right, “You know, I went over to you with the intentions of asking you out,” Bucky said as a small blush flooded his cheeks.

“Really?” You couldn’t believe it. Bucky nods, “so, why didn’t you?”

“Well, I remembered what Peter can do and I kind of got scared,” he chuckled, “but-“

“But?”

“Ah, fuck it,” He sighed as he stopped walked to turn to you, “Y/N, would you go out with me? I would love to know more about you because I find you to be the most gorgeous girl, I have ever laid eyes on.” You could feel your cheeks warming up, you instantly covered your face, but you felt Bucky’s hands on yours as he pulled your hands down so you can look him in the eyes, “what do you say? Go on a date with me, doll?”

Your heart melted even more at that nickname, you smiled, “yes.”

“Whoaa! I leave for like thirty minutes!” You heard Peter say, you rolled your eyes, “it was an hour and I’m a big girl, Peter.”

You could feel Peter glaring at Bucky, “you hurt my big sister.”

“I know what you’re capable of, no need to warn me,” Bucky said as he let out a small chuckle, “and trust me, I have no intention of harming your sister in any way.” Bucky looked at you and winked. You didn’t know what lied ahead of you, but you had never felt so happy in your life. So excited for the adventures ahead of you.

876 notes · View notes

angry-slytherin · 4 years

Text

Heaven Help Me(Ch 2)

Jo is reading scans from an email on her cell phone when she hears a voice behind her.

“Hey, Jo, wait up!” Jo whips around on her way to the coffee cart outside the hospital. She stops just short of the doorway. Amelia is walking briskly toward her.

“Okay so I know probably shouldn’t tell you this, but I’m dying to tell someone. Meredith is going on a date with Hayes. Don’t tell her I said this, she’ll kill me.”

Jo gives Amelia a look of confusion. “Uh, first of all I don’t know who ‘Hayes’ is and why are you telling me this?” Jo and Amelia had of course met through Link, and Jo likes her well enough, but she feels it’s weird that Amelia is sharing personal information about her sister’s dating life with her.

“Doctor Hayes! Pediatric co-chief of surgery! And I told you before, I needed someone to tell. You were on the way to the coffee cart and I don’t think you’ll blab to Meredith.”

Jo nods, “Right. You getting coffee?” Amelia frowns.

“No, I have surgery.” She says, and Jo just watches her walk off towards the elevator. Jo is just glad Amelia is self-aware of her crazy. That much is true.

Jo sees Rayn coming up the hall and quickly turns back toward the doors.

“Before seven is mine, Doctor Rayn. I told you this.”

“Doctor Wilson, I think you’ll want to come see this.” Rayn is tight-lipped.

“Fine; tell everyone I’ll be there in ten. I need sustenance or I’ll be crankier than normal. You don’t want that.”

Rayn agrees, still somber. “See you in ten. And I know we’re professionals, but I think it’s important you know that know my first name is Carleen.”

Jo studies the younger doctor carefully, realizing she reminds her of herself during her early residency years.

“Thank you, Rayn. I’ll be there in ten.”

Rayn goes to turn away, but Jo finds herself compelled to speak again.

“My first name is Jo.”

Rayn grins wide at Jo, before rushing back to the lab. Jo finally reaches the doors, stepping outside into one of Seattle’s rare clear mornings, and takes a deep breath. The fresh air helps to clear her mind.

“Good morning, Doctor Wilson.”

Jo jumps. Behind her is Alex Karev, scowling.

“Jesus, you scared me. Good morning to you too. What’s got you in a mood?”

“Got into a fight with my wife.” He practically tears his wallet out of the pocket of his jeans, and opens it.

“Oh, well. Don’t let it get to you too much. She loves you. And you don’t have to harp on it if it’s nothing that important.” Jo then remembers to take her wallet out of her own purse, fishing out a couple dollars.

“It was about— You know what, it doesn’t matter, you’re right. I’m just going to forget about it.”

“Right then,” Jo awkwardly moves on, “Did you read the article on ex-lap efficiency from Doctor Yat-Sen at UCLA? It was really interesting, the way he argued that you can minimize OR time by immediately doing a biopsy on the healthy tissue also.”

“I actually did. I dunno if it’s practical for me. It’s harder to decide on things like that with kids. They’re so compliacated. Like my wife.”

Jo openly laughs at that.

“Don’t hate on your wife. I thought you were forgetting about it?”

Alex groans, scowling again, “Right.”

“You’re right about the kids part though. Peds was super fun to me, but in the end I ending up in general, specialty-less.”

“Any particular reason?”

“Indecisiveness in the end. I never thought too far enough into it in the first place. Plus now, I have my research.”

Alex stands behind her on the coffee line, and Jo orders a lemon scone.

“What do you want, Karev?”

“I can pay for my own coffee.”

Jo turns to the clerk, “One black coffee please.” She smiles and hands the clerk the money.

“How could you possibly know how I like my coffee?” Alex says, accepting the cup.

“Please, you’re clearly not a sugar and milk person. You’re such a grouch.”

Alex keeps his scowl, but thanks Jo nonetheless.

***

“Good morning, all.” Jo greets the team as she enters the research lab. ‘The team’ being surgical resident Cross, oncology intern Rayn, and three biomedical engineers— John, Armani and Deborah.

“Doctor Wilson, we have great news. The mice are fine.” Deb is smiling, and the other engineers follow in suit.

“I don’t understand. That means our cells are flawed.” Cross furrows his eyebrows Jo sighs.

“Yes. It means we have lots more work to do. Actually, that’s the bio engineers’ job. Us doctors have to sit back now. Doctor Rayn, you’re of course welcome to help, as you’ve got the most extensive knowledge of cancer. Doctor Cross, thank you for all your help, but your services are no longer needed here.”

“It was wonderful to meet you Doctor Wilson. Hopefully we can call you back soon, once we’ve better understood this in our lab.” John sticks his hand out, and Jo shakes it.

“Thank you all. I look forward to it.” Jo nods, and she and Cross exit the lab.

“Doctor Cross, you should scrub in on as many surgeries as you can. I appreciate all of it, but your time spent here has set you back as a surgeon. Take some extra nights on-call for a while. Thank me later.”

Cross looks both solemn and grateful, and he simply walks away. Jo feels surprisingly upset at this; she knew her idea wasn’t the end all be all, but she had hoped it would’ve fleshed out more. All she had done was make mice ill, not help anyone.

She had gone and given up a great surgery fellowship, for one of her ideas to fail within only a little more than a week. Her favorite research already up in flames.

Then her pager goes off, and she is being briefed by a senior resident on a hernia patient who came into the ER last night. The woman whose scans she recieved this morning.

“Audrey Davis, 36. Came into the ER last night complaining of abdominal pain. After CT, it was concluded she has an epigastric hernia.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Jo nods to the resident.

“Doctor Wilson,” a medical student begins, “Am I correct to assume you’ll be performing a hernioplasty?”

“I will. Does anyone know why?”

“Yes. Mesh has proven to be exceedingly effective in long-term hernia repair.” A third-year resident answers.

“Doctor Wilson, will you be using an animal-based mesh or a composite synthetic one?” Another medical student.

“A bio human-based one. Why?”

“Because there’s a lesser chance of rejection.” A second-year.

“Alright, anyone who answered a question can join me in the OR today. Baker, scrub in. The rest of you can watch in the gallery. Find me later if you have further questions. Now excuse me.”

Jo makes her way into the patient’s room and the woman is surrounded by multiple people, ranging from toddlers to elderly. Jo counts thirteen.

“Good morning Ms. Davis, and family. I’m Doctor Wilson, and I’ll be your surgeon. I’ll be performing a laparoscopic repair for your hernia, and then hopefully in a day or two, you can go home. Do you have any questions?”

The elderly man speaks up, “Honey, are you the nurse? Because you need to speak up. I have hearing aids for god’s sake.”

“No, sir. I’m the doctor. Doctor Wilson, the surgeon who’ll be operating on Audrey.” Jo tries her best to muster a smile.

The patient rolls her eyes, “I’m so sorry Doctor. He’s especially irrational when he’s stressed. My mom was the first one in our family to have a surgery, and she died a year ago.”

Well that explained the whole gang showing up.

“No problem, Ms. Davis. I will see you in surgery.” The patient nods and Jo moves on to her post-ops. One med student trails her, with a concerned look on his face.

“How could you possibly not yell at that old man, it was crazy sexist what he said.” Jo faces the not-yet doctor, sighing.

“It’s the world we live in. As a female doctor, you learn to get used to it. You could probably ask your female peers” He frowns at Jo, shaking his head.

“Somebody should change that.” Jo is nearly crushed by his hope.

“Somebody should.”

She bumps into Izzie Stevens as she walks past the med student.

“Sorry, Wilson. I should’ve been looking where I was going. It’s been a long morning.”

Jo remembers Alex’s grumpiness this morning and guesses he probably slept on the couch.

“Don’t worry about it, I understand.”

“Are you married? Have you ever been married? It’s exhausting.” Izzie says it tiredly, not antagonistically.

“No, I mean I- yes. I have been married. But not anymore.”

Jo does not wish to share her own experience with marriage. She feels bad for Stevens and Karev, but their petty arguments hardly compare to her memories. She went to therapy for a long time after it ended.

“My husband — I think you know him — Alex, is just exhausting. He always thinks he’s making me happy, but half the time it’s just him pushing his wants onto me and calling them mine. Sorry, you probably don’t care.”

“It’s okay, I could use a break from my own thoughts.” Jo gives her a small smile, but the other doctor is right, she doesn’t care.

“Sorry, sorry again. Goodbye Doctor Wilson.” Izzie rushes off.

Jo finds several residents and med students waiting for her at Willy O’ Connor’s room.

***

After performing two appendectomies, Jo takes respite on a hallway gurney. She rubs her temples, leans her head back against the wall, and closes her eyes.

“Feeling okay? Fellowship life getting to you?” Link’s voice rings in her ears, her head pounding. She feels him sit next to her.

“I feel more tired than on a 24 hour shift as a resident. I research, and then I do surgery, and then I do more research, and then I do more surgery. It’s like everything I’ve ever wanted but it is so draining. I am so tired.” Jo opens her eyes and looks at her friend, fatigued.

“Ah I remember when I was a fellow, I actually slept through a M&M. The resident next to me who’d been there all night woke me up. It’s so much better than residency though. You’re basically an attending and still learning.” Link looks at Jo.

“Yeah,” Jo lets out a breath of air.

“So how is wedding planning going?”

Link smiles, “Well we set a date. July 18th. At the Old Mill Factory.”

“It’s gorgeous there! Oh I’m so happy for you both!” Jo squeals and suddenly she’s energized.

“Speaking of my wedding, how would you feel about being my best man?”

Jo smiles slowly, “Really? I mean I would of course be the best woman but minor details. Yes, of course Link, yes.”

Link grins at her. “Not that I’m doubtful, but I’m going to need you up there. Because me and Amelia will both be nervous wrecks.”

Jo bites her lip, “I bet. It’s gonna be great.”

***

Jo makes her way to the attending’s lounge on the third floor, but her desire for hot chocolate and a comfortable seat is prohibited by a screaming couple in the room already.

Jo decides she’s had a long enough day and braves the sparring lovers. It’s Alex and Izzie, of course. Jo shrinks, just wanting hot chocolate. That’s all she wants.

“-well that’s rich! You haven’t thought about what I want in a long time!”

“Oh so now you don’t want kids? We’ve always wanted kids, what changed?”

“Of course I want- that’s not what I’m saying, I’m saying I can’t give up more time for maternity leave. I have a lot going on right now with my patients and I need you to be willing to take time!”

“And I’ve told you I’m willing. But I’m not being a parent alone. That’s no— Iz.” Alex looks over at Jo and she widens her eyes, scooping up her mug.

She awkwardly smiles, “I’ll just be going now.”

God, she thinks, what a mess.

Alex follows Jo out of the lounge.

“Sorry about that.” Jo furrows her eyebrows, frowning.

“I thought the argument this morning wasn’t important.”

“It wasn’t.” Alex grunts. Jo doesn’t want to aggravate him more, but kids seems like a big topic. Kids are always a big topic.

“Kids are a big decision. I was a kid no one wanted, not even my own mother could stand to keep me for more than two days. She was under different circumstances, but no kid wants parents who can barely agree before they’re even a clump of cells.”

Alex fumes, “Who the hell says you get to comment on my marriage? What gives you the right? You’re not married, you’re not a parent. You have no idea.”

Jo rolls her eyes, “You’re right, Alex. But I’ve been married before, and I- you should think about what you’re getting into.” Alex waves her off.

“Screw you, Jo.”

Jo takes a deep breath, moving on to her surgery.

#grey’s anatomy #grey’s anatomy fanfic #grey’s fanfiction #jo wilson #jo karev #alex karev #izzie stevens #atticus lincoln #amelia shepherd #jolex fanfic

11 notes · View notes

themyskira · 5 years

Text

One of the things that’s so irritating to me about G. Willow Wilson’s run is that she’s actually taking the story in directions I really want it to go, picking up on plot threads ignored since the end of Rucka’s run, bringing back the mythology and resolving (finally!) Diana’s inability to return home with a development that enables the Amazons and Themyscira to be a recurring part of Wondy’s ongoing story again… and yet somehow she’s doing it in the blandest, most uninteresting way imaginable.

A lot of it isn’t technically bad. She’s not pulling any James Robinsons here. But there’s no emotional punch, no surprise, no heart to it. At the end of the day, she’s just moving pieces around a board.

As an example of this, let’s talk about her writing of Veronica Cale.

Veronica sees love as a weakness. When you open your heart to others, you give them power over you, hanging only to trust and blind hope that they won’t use that power to hurt you, to betray you, to destroy you. When you allow yourself to love, you make yourself vulnerable. You cultivate avenues by which your enemies can attack and manipulate you.

Veronica: Wonder Woman’s been here all of six months and she’s lecturing us about how we need to love one another. That through love we respect each other. That we will appreciate one another and this beautiful, precious world of ours. Adrianna: So it’s naive, maybe, but-- Veronica: It’s not naive, it’s a lie. Love has never solved a problem, Adrianna... all it does is create them.

And this was her mindset before the only two people in the world she’d let into her heart were stolen from her by a pair of sadistic gods seeking to use her to get to Wonder Woman.

Years of tucking an empty-faced, inanimate child into bed each night while her daughter’s soul screamed from the prison of the fear-gods’ gemstone. Years of being forced to scurry at Phobos and Deimos’ bidding as they held Izzy’s life in their hands. It sends her down a very dark road, one that leads ultimately to her ruin and that of everyone around her.

Veronica will not be controlled again, and so she works systematically to control everyone and everything around her. Every person and every resource is a potential tool in her cause, and she’s willing to hurt, kill, torture, manipulate, exploit, curse or destroy anybody if it gets her a single step closer to rescuing her daughter.

All of this comes to a head at the end of Rucka’s run. Due in part to Veronica’s own actions, her daughter is lost to her forever. Safe but unable to leave Themyscira, Izzy must remain with the Amazons -- to be raised by the people of the woman Veronica loathes most in the world.

Sick with grief and self-loathing, she lashes out at the only other person who cares - Adrianna, the AI patterned after her lost friend. She rejects that friendship, denies Adrianna’s personhood and dismisses her as a tool, seeding the beginnings of a rift.

She’s attacked by a murderous Cheetah, symbolic in that moment of everything she’s burned and broken and corrupted in her fruitless quest, only to be rescued at the last by none other than Diana.

Which leads to this heartbreaking exchange:

Veronica: We’re never going to be friends. You understand that. Diana: I understand we could have been. I understand that you see weakness in the places where I find strength. And I understand something more. Veronica: Do you? Diana: That you will always be alone, Doctor Cale.

And that’s where we leave her, alone amid the rubble of her life.

As significant as she is to Diana’s Rebirth story, it’s no surprise that the writers who followed Rucka (James Robinson, G. Willow Wilson) wanted to return to her. Unfortunately, neither of them seem to have known quite what to do with her beyond ‘Veronica is rich and powerful and hates Wondy’.

To be fair to them, this would be a challenge for any writer. Rucka created this version of Veronica with a very defined character arc, from the kidnapping of her daughter that begins her descent into villainy, to her tragic ruin which sees her daughter put forever beyond her reach. For ten years her sole motivation has been saving Izzy no matter what the cost, and now that’s gone. What is there left for her? Where does she go from here?

And the easiest answer is, well, she still hates Wonder Woman and blames her for what was done to Izzy, so I guess she’ll just make it her new mission to fuck with Diana by creating new metahuman villains to run rampant or launching a campaign to destroy Wondy’s reputation.

Robinson goes the former route, in the process reducing Veronica to a sadistic mad scientist, throwing monsters at Diana and conducting experiments on her foes simply because she likes hurting them.

“She tried to kill me, did you know that? Came close, too. I swore then that she’d be my property again, if I ever got the chance. So yes. Thank you, Adrianna... let the hunt begin.”

Wilson opts for the latter, and on its face this route has more promise. The celebratory news coverage of Wonder Woman and her (infantile, lecturing, false) mission rankled Veronica even before she became ensnared in Diana’s orbit. Being surrounded by it now, all this fawning over the woman Veronica believes ruined her life? That must burn her. It’s not hard to imagine her launching a covert campaign to show the public the ‘true’ face of Wonder Woman.

The problem here is that such a story has been done, and done very effectively, in Rucka’s first run on Wonder Woman, where he first introduced Veronica Cale. If you want to avoid simply retreading old ground, you’re going to need something more, a new angle.

Wilson has one, but it’s not good.

For context, Wilson’s run begins in Ares’ Themysciran prison, now also home to Grail. In amongst the other weapons littering their cell, Grail idly picks out a sword named Godkiller. Ares (who, apropos of nothing, has decided to stage prison break so that he can live a reformed life as a Noble and Just god of mass slaughter, wtf Willow) demands that Grail use it to kill him.

For reasons that, nearly twenty issues later, still have yet to be satisfactorily explained, Ares dies and is immediately resurrected, resulting in a “cosmic paradox” (?!) that tears Themyscira, Olympus and all their connected realms asunder (?!?!), spitting confused divinities and mythical beings out into the mundane world.

Veronica, observing the appearance of these gods, immediately begins investigating and comes to the bewildering conclusion that Themyscira is gone and therefore Izzy is dead.

This immediately makes no sense. Veronica spent ten years doing everything she could to get Izzy back, in the face of impossible odds. The scientific analysis may be pointing to Themyscira’s collapse, but that’s purely theoretical — and all around her, as gods and monsters materialise from nowhere, Veronica is being presented with evidence that she’s closer to Izzy than ever before. You can’t tell me that this woman, with her single-minded purpose, would give her daughter up for dead before she’d seen a body.

But okay. She thinks Izzy is dead. She’s hurting and she wants Diana to hurt, too. So she decides she’s going to tear apart Diana’s reputation.

By sending the goddess Nemesis to blow up a city street, waiting for Diana to show up and fight her, then storm in with cameras declaring loudly that “Wonder Woman attacked my employee in the course of her job protecting Cale Enterprises from superhuman threats” and then proceeding to file a massive lawsuit against her.

“Let the record show that Wonder Woman attacked my employee in the course of her job protecting Cale Enterprises from superhuman threats. If superheroes want to work, they must do business like everyone else. Register. Pay taxes. Otherwise, it stands to reason that they risk running afoul of the law.”

This is… so far from Veronica’s MO it’s not funny. She’s a meticulous planner, operating from the shadows, never showing her hand before she’s well and ready. Diana was clashing with Veronica’s people for years before she had the slightest idea who they were working for or what they were trying to get from her. She wouldn’t needlessly expose herself to media scrutiny with a stunt like this — not when she could far more effectively demolish Diana’s reputation from a distance with a team of PR operatives, some high-level media and political connections, and an AI ally capable of getting in almost anywhere.

But it turns out Veronica is kind of being controlled by Nemesis, who’s stoking her grudge against Diana (because, in an outrageous bit of mythology fail we don’t even have time to get into, Wilson thinks Nemesis is the goddess of… nemeses), so maybe we can explain away her brash incompetence as her not being in her right mind.

That doesn’t explain why, upon Diana’s breaking the spell, Veronica immediately bursts into tears and starts babbling, “I just want her to be safe— I can’t stop thinking about it— about her being alone and scared and not understanding what was happening—” And sobbing into Diana’s shoulder, she agrees to drop the lawsuit if Diana will search for Izzy.

“I--” [sobbing] “--I just want her to be safe-- I can’t stop thinking about it-- about her being alone and scared and not understanding what was happening--”

Remember, two of the very first things we learned about Veronica: she believes love is a weakness that her enemies will exploit, and she does not fucking trust Wonder Woman. She’s spent a long time cultivating a stony facade to hide her vulnerabilities. She’s not going to let that drop for Diana, not easily. She’s certainly not going to trust to Wonder Woman, the person she blames for Izzy’s loss, the task of recovering her daughter.

But that’s exactly what she does.

So then we get to WW #76. Diana has found Themyscira again, but before she can get caught up with her family, Diana wants to get Izzy back to her own family.

So naturally she LEAVES IZZY ON THE ISLAND and flies off on her own to pick up Veronica and bring her back.

“A reunion that is within my power to grant… yet it means bringing my enemy to the shores of my homeland.”

NO IT DOESN’T YOU ARE MAKING THIS NEEDLESSLY COMPLICATED FOR THE SAKE OF MELODRAMA

So Diana drops into Veronica’s house all, ‘hey, I found your daughter, she’s in the place you hate most in the world, so I thought I’d bring you to her rather than make this easy on you’.

And Veronica, rather than saying, ‘if you found her, why didn’t you bring her with you?’ or ‘why should I trust you?’ or ‘what’s the catch?’… drops her gun and dissolves into a weepy emotional puddle. VERONICA.

Veronica: [wiping away tears] You’re s-still my enemy when all this is over. Diana: You’re still my enemy now. Come. No more tears. There’s a young woman anxious to see you.

Where Robinson erased Veronica’s love and desperation to rescue her daughter in favour of a simplistic villainous portrayal, we see Wilson doing the exact reverse -- erasing Veronica’s viciousness in favour of a simplistic portrayal of a forlorn mother who thinks only of her baby.

And again, NONE OF THIS IS NECESSARY, YOU COULD HAVE JUST BROUGHT IZZY HERE.

Bad characterisation and hacky dramatic devices aside, what makes this story thread particularly bad is that it effects a significant change both in Veronica’s individual arc and in Diana’s relationship with Veronica without actually adding anything to either. There’s no conflict, no complication, no trade-off, no character growth. It’s a half-arsed quick fix, removing an obstacle without any effort or repercussions, which is flat-out bad writing.

And what sucks is it didn’t have to be this way.

Consider this: What if, instead of instantly giving up her daughter for dead, Veronica immediately gets to work hunting for a stable path through the cracks in the worlds? And what if this time, rather than her efforts being a threat to Themyscira and the mortal world, they’re the key to Diana finding her way home and saving Themyscira?

In this scenario, Themyscira is not under attack from within (i.e. the civil war resulting from Grail’s overthrow of Hippolyta), but from without. Evil spirits and mythical monsters have been spilling out of the Underworld through the cracks in reality and the Amazons are engaged in a desperate fight to subdue them and stabilise their world before it becomes subsumed into Hades’ realm. (You could do some cool stuff with the topography of the Underworld beginning to bleed into Themyscira - the flaming river Phlegethon slicing through the landscape, the city strangled by poppies and asphodel.)

The path that Veronica locates leads through the Underworld, so instead of a wacky journey through the ~wild world of Hippolyta’s imagination~ we get an awesome katabasis story! One way or another, Diana and Veronica’s paths converge in the Underworld and they end up unwilling allies, relying on one another to fight their way through.

This unlikely team-up also gives us the opportunity to examine the characters’ conflicting worldviews and unresolved issues with each other. Greek mythology is full of daimones, personified concepts (e.g. grief, rage, nightmares), which provides some great opportunities to bring personal insecurities to the surface and make literal characters’ battles with their fears.

So they make it out of the Underworld and into Themyscira. They find their way to the Amazons’ stronghold, where Veronica is finally able to embrace Izzy. It’s an emotional reunion, but one fraught with uncomfortable edges. Veronica’s spent ten years on a very dark road. She’s committed monstrous acts, ruined lives, doomed souls in her quest to get her daughter back. If Izzy knew the woman her mother had become, it would terrify her.

And as the Underworld encroaches, threatening to swallow whole these women who welcomed Izzy in as family, Veronica’s faced with a choice: save herself and her daughter, while breaking Izzy’s heart — or be the hero Izzy still believes her to be and stand with her enemies to save Themyscira.

With Veronica’s help, they triumph. But the new status quo brings new challenges - maybe Themyscira is pulled into the earthly realm. Maybe the walls between dimensions, while stabilised, remain porous, riddled with cracks through which gods and monsters can escape and wreak havoc. And of course, Ares is now loose in the world, unchained, along with Phobos and Deimos, whose actions brought so much misery on Veronica and her loved ones — and who, now that they’re free, have some scores to settle.

And so, while Veronica is able to bring closure to one awful chapter, returning home with her daughter, she emerges with a new resolve: to monitor, control and — if need be — destroy these gods that now lurk in the world. Because she’ll let the worlds burn before she lets them touch a single hair on Izzy’s head ever again.

Godwatch is back online.

But nah, what we get instead is a trite little reunion that ties everything up in a neat bow for Veronica, with no sacrifices required on her part and no consequences for her terrible actions, because it’s easier to portray her simplistically as a bereft mother than to remember that, HEY SHE’S ALSO MURDERED A LOT OF PEOPLE HERE.

#g. willow wilson's wondy is an exercise in disappointment #wonder woman #veronica cale #comics talk

29 notes · View notes

maladaptive-ninja-returns · 5 years

Text

Without Question (6)

Steve Rogers x Reader

Content: angst?? ending in fluff

Warnings: second-hand embarrassment. heh. Cameo by another character but a bit later in the chapter. A little nakey nakey.

Word Count: It’s not a thing here. It's never been a thing here.

A/N: It’s late. Really late. Too early. I didn’t edit it properly but I hope it was decent enough.

MASTERLIST

The warmth you feel around you takes you by surprise for a moment making you feel your body shift in sleep.

Your fingers register something soft and balmy covering you. It takes a few seconds for your eyes to open, the reluctance of the tired lids fully recognisable to your conscience. A royal blue blanket covers your entirety while your head rests on a soft pillow.

Your head- tipped up to take this in, sure of the fact that you had passed out in cold surroundings inside a glass cylinder- feels a swerve and a piercing ache, forcing it to fall back into the pillow.

One long inhale.

You breathe in a strange essence from the pillow.

Another long inhale.

You feel the memories resurface, driving away the fog of fatigue like a cold, chilly wind and forcing your eyes to open fully; partly because of the rush and partly to make sure you were not in that Quinjet anymore.

The surface you lay on is same as the floor, warm too when your feet- which were still marked with dried blood-touch it. The moment you get up, the makeshift bed goes down and becomes one with the surface underneath you, leaving the blanket and pillow as the only evidence of uncalled gratitude post your existential crisis in the worst sense.

The glass walls are white on your side and black on the opposite arc, split by another glass layer; the black side pretty much a shower temple.

Grade-a luxurious prison cell with privacy. I'm flattered.

You look around for any buttons or switches, anything that can be used to talk to someone outside this cylinder but find none. With one stretched sigh, you push the glass partition and step inside.

The moment your hands go to the hem of the sweatshirt, Steve's image comes to your mind filling you with worry, sadness and dread, in that order.

Stripping down his clothes, rostering his lingering scent in your mind, you twist the shower knob and let the water wash away as much of the turmoil as it can, the burning pressure scathing your skin.

The torture by the heated water over your layers somehow feels redeeming and you let it linger for half an hour more.

Everything does seem to be washing away- the blood, the sweat, the remnants of your tears- everything but the mark on your shoulder.

By the time you close the water and wring out the excess from your hair, your skin is pulsating with red all over.

A robe lies in the corner, fuzzy to the touch- blue on the outside while the inside is lined in green. You slide it over your body, feeling it capture the heat radiating out of you. And just as you do, stepping out of the shower temple, the glass division, shower, and the black tiled floor, everything disappears down in the surface, replacing it with the exact replica of the side you stand on.

The black dissolves and you feel the lights over you dim to the same concentration as the ones coming from outside.

The lab.

There are screens showing your name, biodata and vitals in red. One of them displays ‘Categorised as ally/enemy: Unknown’, drawing an aching breath inside your lungs.

There is no soul in sight in the part of the dim lit lab you face till you shift your gaze towards the wall that overlooks the hanger where the Quinjet stands and a screen is playing the recording of the events that happened on the way back.

A familiar figure stands by the window, looking out at the carrier, his arms crossed, his Dorito figure still as a frozen tree.

Watching yourself in a possessed state over the screen while the man- who was basically the reason you were alive- seems to be evaluating your existence makes you turn back into your shell, building up the walls that had lasted longer than any relationship you ever had.

“How are Wilson and Barton?” You hear yourself say.

You feel a shift in his neck before his shoulders move as he inhales but speaks nothing for a moment.

“Recovering,” comes a hoarse reply.

You can clearly see his black shirt tighten around him as his hand curls up into a fist at the side.

“I'm sorry,” your voice falters as your own arms wrap around your torso.

“How are you feeling?” His tone is measured, making you retrieve more into the dark corner of your shell.

“How am I supposed to feel?” The snap in your voice dying as soon as the words leave you.

He makes you vulnerable, doesn't he?

You step towards the glass, waiting for him to turn but not wanting to see his face for the fear of seeing despondency and rejection, your own head playing games with the emotional turmoil inside you.

“Scared,” you finally croak. “I feel scared.”

He finally turns towards you. And you feel yourself falling for him all over again.

His blue eyes are dark, dilated in the poorly lit room. His brows turned in a hint of worry and thoughtfulness. His beard hiding the cut that goes down his right cheek, right where the bruise is visible; right where you punched him. His arms hidden under the black sleeves, hiding more bruises from the fractures that you so vividly remember giving him.

He slowly steps towards you, bending down to his side to click something that turns off the recording and shuts the window, making your breathing flutter, the air caught in your lungs.

“How...how are you-how is your-”

He is closer to the glass now, his eyes fixated on you, making you forget where exactly your mind was going with this.

“How is your wound?” He eventually asks, making you mentally touch your shoulder while you hear yourself say, “I don’t have any.”

“The bite mark on your shoulder.”

There is a sudden rush of a cold tidal wave inside you which you cannot seem to place the origin of. Your hands feel heavy as they rise, sliding the robe away just a bit to reveal the torn skin coloured dark; dots looking like miniature passageways to some hollow abyss.

His lose hands at the sight in front of him come together, one thumb pressing over the palm of the other in some calculating thought.

The dots are hidden under the soft fabric as you step closer to the glass, placing your palm over it.

“Are you still…”

There is a gush of emotions inside you as mentally complete the sentence with the most dreaded version.

“Am I still what?” you feel the pitch grow. “Infected? Housing a...a demon inside me?”

“It’s a parasite.”

“That does not make it better.” you nearly hiss at him before finding your composure. You were still sitting in your cocoon, your entire being riding on autopilot right now, not caring what was going on around you except for the eyes of the man in front of you.

This entire time his ocean was not the similar one you had seen before. This one was shallow to the eyes but for some reason felt dreadfully deeper; clearer than the sky but hiding something beneath those clean waters. A part of you was scared. The other one, the one talking did not seem to observe it whatsoever.

I am finally going insane.

“Do you feel it? Her?”

“No. Not right now, I don’t.”

He doesn’t speak anymore. Neither does he make an effort to come closer and reduce the distance to just the glass between the two of you.

“It’s not my fault, Steve. I had no idea this thing was inside me,” you lament, your eyes welling up with tears.

“Please, you have to understand, Steve, I never meant to hurt anyone.”

The tears fall. “I never meant to hurt you.”

His eyes do not leave you when the movement in his fidgeting hands stop before driving his dense hair back. A deciding breath later he turns towards the screens and clicks a few buttons. The screens that were showing the lab’s live feed, go dark.

“Others don’t feel the same way as me, believe me,” he mentions, coming back to you, his shoulders visibly loose now.

Steve, what are you doing?

“What do you feel?” your question is straightforward. “Do you believe what I just said?”

“I believe,” he declares, his stoic figure standing right in front of you as he looks down at your glistened Y/E/Cs, “that Y/N had nothing to do with it.”

You feel your cowering figure pause and straighten in the shell, paying rapt attention to what more he has to say.

“What-”

“You,” his eyes burn at you, sending a fiery spark throughout your body, “on the other hand enjoyed breaking my ribs. Fault is practically your identity right now, darling.”

All breath escapes your lungs as your bewildered eyes look back at him, another tear escaping the trough.

“Steve, what the hell are you talking ab-”

“Save it,” he growls, his voice never rising beyond a limit, “if it was actually Y/N speaking right now, she would have cursed me twice to have not killed her or thrown her down in the Pacific somewhere.”

You- the real you sitting in that shell- breaks in a laugh at the scenario unfolding in front of you, watching the parasite embarrass itself.

That’s right, bitch. I’d rather die than let you out.

Your devastated expressions go blank before Steve; your defeated shoulders squaring up, as you took in a fresh breath, swelling up your chest with some unreasonable pride.

“You really are smarter than your crushing looks, captain,” you moan, you lips bearing a smirk.

“I somewhat get why she likes you?”

His gaze flinches a bit, stretching your smirk further.

“Y/N, she really likes you,” you see yourself claim, feeling like throwing a punch at yourself. “The things she has thought about you, captain. Oh!”

The shell heats up at the humiliation coursing through you while Steve just stands there never faltering his gaze, increasing the flush of shame tenfold.

“It’s quite vivid, her imagination. I can even smell your scent when you are worked up and looking down at her like you would devour her. The way she wants to run her fingers in your hair or chase your lips with hers,” her voice is almost a whispering moan as she steps closer to the glass, “the way she wants to dig her fingers into the skin on your back as you make her scream with pleasure in a hot spring in the middle of a forest.”

Stop! Is all you can muster from where you sit inside yourself, feeling yourself grin shamelessly.

“So,” you coo, as your hands suggestively stretch the belt around your robe, “what do you say, captain?”

The belt comes undone and your fingers open up the robe wide for the man to see your naked form in full glory forcing the real you to shut your shell, close your eyes and groan.

“Shall we give her something more to think about?”

There is a deafening silence around you for a moment; nothing but the sound of your scared heartbeat, which the parasite has no worries about. A good moment later you hear the hiss of the door opening, making you open your eyes, wishing to take control over your vision as you see Steve’s figure enter the space.

The shell opens a bit as you find his familiar scent enveloping your safe space when he comes and stops right in front of you with negligible space between your bodies.

His eyes don’t leave yours for even a second.

They never linger away to your bare form; completely devouring your gaze with this burning blue surrounding the dilated darkness.

But his hand.

His hands rise up. The fingers graze your right shoulder, causing both parts of you to flinch, burning your skin as the hairs rise up in silent prayer when they travel down your back. The other hand touches the marks left by the parasite’s fangs, tracing every bite as his fingers curl as they reach the nape of your neck- perfect flints over your flammable skin- before travelling back and up into your hair. His pink lips peeking through his beard, inhaling you in completely.

And just like that, you feel him tighten his grip in your hair while the other one is teasing the small of your back, sending the most incoherent vibrations down to your core.

You feel your body rise a little on your toes as it tries to get your cold lips closer to his.

“What are you waiting for, captain?” you hear an erratic whisper.

The fingers leave your back and a smile runs over Steve’s lips.

“Waiting for you to be distracted, you filth.”

A pocket dimension opens right behind you, near his hands, making him grab a black dagger- a blade split into three, twisted and pointed at the ends, almost like a miniature trident- and shove it in your back.

A gasp escapes you while an inhuman wail leaves the other. You feel a rush inside your body as the parasite retrieves through your nerves, turning away from away sensation, leaving all the controls and curling up into a ball somewhere in a dim lit corner inside you, finally allowing you perceive everything first hand- which disorients you for a moment, making you collapse in Steve’s arms.

“Careful now, love,” an unfamiliar voice comes out of him one moment and a dazzling ray of gold shifts over him to reveal someone completely different.

“Who are you?” you ask, finally able to feel yourself speak, the relief quite evident to the God that held you right now, who smirked at you before letting go of your arms to move his behind you to bring up your robe.

“Loki!” Steve shouts from somewhere behind you, his voice seeming distant.

He stands outside the lab’s door, his entire body tensed up in the time it took for him to cover the distance between the common room and the lab when Loki disrupted the feed.

“I am an ally made during the war,” he smiles gently at you, “I heard you needed an expert in parasite removal.”

With one sway of his hand, Loki opens the door and brings back the live feed, coming back to covering your shivering shoulders.

“She won’t disturb you for now,” the green-eyed God declares to you as he carefully works with the belt around your waist to hold your robe.

“And I suggest you should have a chat with her as to why she is keeping you alive,” he whispers in your ear, done with the knot before he hands you over to Steve.

You give him a knowing look and a slight nod before you feel familiar shoulder taking your defeated figure in a tight embrace.

Before Steve can even breathe out the question from his worked up lungs, Loki manages to read his eyes.

“She’s fine. A little shaken by the first-hand embarrassment she had to go through but she will pull through,” the trickster assures him.

“Why did you shut off the cameras?” you feel his voice vibrate near your ear through his chest, your eyes darting towards Loki in mild horror. He reads them. All too well.

Loki narrows his eyes before rolling them at the captain before getting out of the Vault. “Like I just said- the first-hand embarrassment. Nevermind. Here,” he brings forward the dagger from his pocket dimension and hands it to Steve, “in case the parasite tries to be naughty again.”

“Thank you, Loki,” your hoarse voice states, making Steve bring you closer to him.

He says nothing as he looks at you with an evaluating glare.

“Thank you,” Steve too says assuringly, his relieved features on full display for the God to see.

He nods at both of you. “Say it before it’s too late,” he asserts before walking out of the lab, leaving you to ponder upon his statement.

You try to push yourself away from him, your feeble strength clearly nothing in comparison to his.

“Steve, I-” Before you can utter anything more, your brain starts tilting the room.

“Easy,” he whispers as he wraps his arm around you to keep you from falling back, “easy. Here, let me help.”

You feel yourself step away from the floor and rise, realising a bit too late he was carrying you- all of you- in his arms.

“I just woke up. How can I-” your words stop coming out as everything keeps spinning.

“Loki said the parasite keeps on a stable rush when it is active inside you. The moment it is sent into a dormant state you feel like coming down from a high. So, you just need a good night’s sleep and then some food to get back to normal.”

You hear the elevator ding, no longer able to keep your eyes open.

“Steve,” you whisper.

“I’m here, Y/N. I’m right here.”

The elevator dings again and you hear Friday greet you and Steve as she tells him the rest of the Avengers are back from Bruce’s lab and are waiting for them in the common room.

“Friday open the door for me, will you?” is all he responds with.

A click is heard and you feel him slow down his steps before you are gently put over a semi-hard mattress. You hear a familiar whine and feel Stacie’s nails hitting the bedside to watch you.

“I’m fine Stace,” you mumble, making the corgi stop and curl up at the bedside.

You feel the warmth of a blanket with your favourite essence in multi folds all over it before a hand raises your head a bit to plant a cool pillow below it.

A comfortable silence settles around you, making you wonder if you had been left alone again.

“Steve?”

You try to hear his movement while finding a few long breaths in your aching lungs but hear none.

And then you feel the bed dip behind you.

“I’m here,” he finally speaks as you turn towards him, planting one lingering kiss on your forehead, dissolving all your worries for now.

“I’m here. I’m not leaving you.”

(I thought two could play the game so I brought HIM over *wink* *wink*)

TAGLIST

Permanent

@magiclolipopqueen @choke-me-sweet-pea @smexylemony @hazzastyles2471 @lokis-lady-death @lokixme @l0kisbitch @tarithenurse @hiddlestonstansworld @itheoneofmanyfandomsi @nalokoniloki @fuckidontknow @qualitynerdwasteland @cryinglots @unipanda1006 @literalangels @meganlikesfandoms @kcd15

@avenging-blackwidow

@gemgemswift @supernatural-kinda-girl @jessicagoddamnjones @klmpun

#steve r #steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers series #steve rogers soulmate #steve rogers smut #marvel #marvel smut #marvel fluff #marvel soft smut #fluff #smut #fanfic #avengers #loki

38 notes · View notes

thefatedthoughtofyou · 7 years

Note

Wade is having a difficult time saying I love you to T'challa. He can show it to him physically and by cracking jokes but, he's terrified of actually saying the words. Thinking T'challa would reject him.

( Thank you so much for this prompt i loved it! Sorry it took me ages to write and post! I hope you are still around and that you enjoy it darling! Thanks again!!!!

46 times. He’d tried and bailed, 46fucking times. Wade was determined. But his mouth wouldn’t fucking listen tohis brain, and normally that would be good for him, normally that would begreat and probably prevent him getting a bullet shot into his body. But notnow. Now all he wants is to tell his boyfriend slash cat-man that he loves himand his mouth won’t. Fucking. Say. It.

It was easy to show it. He couldshow it all damn day. And he could wise crack about it all day AND all night. Sayingstupid shit about them being meant for each other every time they were salty aboutsomething together was the easiest thing in the world. But his mouth keptputting sarcasm and over dramatic tones on his words when he just wanted to sayit, and mean it, and that’s it.

Showing your love for a man whodresses up as a cat and fights crime that you love them is easier than youmight think. All you have to do is find all kinda weird cat shit from all overthe world and give it to the cat-man and you’re set. T’Challa loves cat stuff.He won’t admit it, not to just anyone. But Wade had been in England and he’d foundthis small round cat pillow, the cat had its eyes closed and its tonguesticking out, and it honestly looked really weird. But Wade bought it andbrought it back and handed it to T’Challa with a smile and the look on the man’sface had been fucking adorable. Wade was pretty sure he almost cried. So he’dstarted buying anything cat related he could get his fucking hands on.

T’Challa had a whole fucking roomfor all the stuff Wade had gotten him, but that little pillow was on their bed,right in the center. Wade had caught T’Challa straightening it once, a fondsmile on his face. It hadn’t even been crooked.

Wade hopped out of the shower andsighed. He got dressed and shuffled into the kitchen slowly, T’Challa wassitting at the table, his tablet open, scrolling through the news or probably watchingcat videos. Wade knew he watched cat videos, he’d checked his search history,he just needed to catch him in the act. But the adorable asshole was sneaky asshit. Wade brushed his hand over T’Challa’s shoulders, pressed a kiss to histemple, and sat down.

“No cat videos this morning?” Wadeasked calmly, stabbing his fork into the stack of pancakes on the table andplopping them on the plate that had been set for him. T’Challa glanced at him,watched him pour a very large amount of syrup over his pancakes, and lookedaway again.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” T’Challa said, Wade saw the corner of hismouth twitch. He stared at the man until he squirmed and looked at him.

“May I help you?” he asked. Waderaised his hand slowly and moved it toward T’Challa’s face. T’Challa pulledaway until he couldn’t go any further and then he watched wide eyed as Wade’shand kept coming closer. Wade pressed his finger to the corner of T’Challa’smouth, pushing in until his finger was sunk into T’Challa’s cheek.

“I saw that. That right there. Thisright here.” Wade said, wiggling his finger and then pulling it away quicklyand taking a huge bite, staring at T’Challa as he chewed, his cheeks poofingout. T’Challa squinted at him, like he wasn’t sure what he was looking at.

“What?” he breathed, sounding horrifiedthat Wade had just poked his face. But Wade was pretty sure he was morehorrified that Wade had just shoveled two more fork fulls of pancake into hismouth.

“It twitched.” Wade said after he’dswallowed his mouthful. T’Challa looked at him for a long time and then smiled.

“Did it?” he asked, dropping histablet on the table gently and reaching for a strawberry on the table. He bitinto it and smiled again when Wade licked his lips. Wade made a disgusted soundand finally looked away.

“You’re a monster.” He mumbled andshoved more food in his mouth. T’Challa chuckled and shifted in his seat,pressing his knee to Wade’s and throwing a strawberry onto his plate. Wade madea small disgusted noise and stabbed it with his fork. He looked at it,shrugged, and then shoved it into his mouth too. He chewed his food and staredat the table cloth. Thoughts running through his head a mile a minute. His eyeswent foggy and then he felt a warm hand on his arm. He blinked slowly a fewtimes and then shook his head, then looked at his arm. T’Challa was looking athim, concern etched into his features.

“Are you alright? You’re quiet thismorning.” T’Challa said, he seemed to think for a moment before he correctedhimself.

“You’re quiet, for you.” He said,his lips twitching again. Wade smiled a small smile and looked at him.

“Yeah. I’m good. I’m…good.” Wadetrailed off. T’Challa’s brow furrowed and his head tilted.

“Wade. What is it?” he asked. Wadefelt like he’d been punched. He sounded so concerned for him. Wade shrugged,one shoulder lifting and then falling.

“It’s nothing. Just tired. I have aboyfriend who keeps me up all night ya know.” Wade said, pushing a cheery toneinto his voice and wiggling his eyebrows and then shoveling more food into hismouth. T’Challa watched him a moment longer and then sat back in his chairagain, eating his own breakfast in silence.

“Ya know what no.” Wade said,slamming his fork onto the table. T’Challa didn’t even flinch. He just set hisown fork down and looked at him.

“Just tell me Wade.” He said, hisvoice calm.

“I-“ Wade started, cutting himselfoff and swallowing hard. T’Challa bit his lip.

“It’s just that-“ Wade tried again,stopping and shaking his head before he got going. He sighed and hung his head.

“Never mind.” He muttered, standingup and grabbing his plate. He walked to the kitchen and tossed the dish intothe sink. He braced himself with his hands on the sink ledge, gripping it sohard his knuckles turned white. He growled in his throat and slammed his handsdown hard.

“How can I help?” T’Challa’s quietvoice came from behind him. He was always so kind to Wade. An irrational angershot through Wade and he spun around.

“Why are you with me? Huh? I mean, I’mfucking… a fucking terrible excuse for a human being. I’m- I’ve killed people.So many fucking people. I like doing it. I’m good at it. You’re a good man T’Challa.Why the fuck would you even want anything to do with me?” Wade asked, his voicea little hoarse, his eyes stinging. T’Challa frowned at him and then walkedinto the kitchen. Wade backed himself against the sink and shook his head, T’Challaheld his hands up and stopped walking forward.

“I know all these things Wade. Iknew them when we started this. And I’ve known them during. And knowing themdoesn’t change how I feel about you.” T’Challa said, his voice calm, Wadeswallowed and wrapped his arms around himself.

“Well maybe it should.” He mumbled,looking at his feet. T’Challa walked closer and stood next to Wade.

“Wade. What’s this really about?You’ve been distant lately. And you’ve been forcing jokes. I know you don’t thinkI’ve noticed. But I have. Of course, I have.” T’Challa said, still speakingsoftly, like he was talking to a frightened animal. And hell, Wade sure as shitfelt like one at the moment. T’Challa leaned closer and bumped their shoulderstogether.

“I just- I’ve been trying to tellyou something. Something you’ve told me already. And I wanted to say it sobadly but I just fucking can’t get it out. And now-“ Wade stopped and looked upat the ceiling.

“And now?” T’Challa prompted,bumping him again.

“And now I’m thinking I shouldn’t.”Wade said, looking at T’Challa and then away quickly when he saw the way T’Challawas looking at him. His serious features were draped in sadness.

“Yeah. That’s the face I waswaiting for. The face I knew I’d cause.” Wade turned to him.

“I’m just gonna hurt you. That’s whatI do. I get close to people and then I fuck things up and they get hurt.” Wadesaid.

“And that scares you.” T’Challasaid, it wasn’t a question.

“Of course it scares me.” Wadescoffed.

“I don’t wanna hurt you. I lo-“Wade bit his lip and breathed in harshly through his nose. He shook his headand looked to the floor again.

“You deserve someone better than me,T’Challa.” Wade said to his feet.

Wade heard T’Challa sigh and thenwatched his feet come into view. He watched T’Challa’s arms reach out and letthe man lift his head with two fingers under his chin. T’Challa’s sad featurescame into view again and Wade blinked back tears. He sniffed and moved his eyesaround the kitchen. He hated being looked at. Hated it. He never really hatedit so much around T’Challa though. He never looked at him like he was disgusting,or a monster, or with pity in his eyes. Wade swallowed when T’Challa moved hishands to the sides of his face and made him look at him.

“Wade Wilson. You are a good man. Donot roll your eyes, you are. I know that you’ve done terrible things. But youhave a good heart.” T’Challa said, his voice going quieter still.

“And that heart, is the mostwonderful thing about you.” T’Challa paused, his eyes moved down and then backup quickly.

“Well, aside from your ass, I quitelike that as well.” He said, smirking. Wade snorted and laughed, it burst outof him, shocking him, and smiled at T’Challa. T’Challa smiled back.

“There you are.” He whispered,brushing his thumbs gently against Wade’s cheeks and then moving his hand toWade’s neck. Wade relaxed a little and sighed. He looked into T’Challa’s eyes andfelt his heart beating fast in his chest. He swallowed and wiped his palms onhis pajama pants.

“I love you.” He said, his voice a littlescratchy, his nerves attempting to close up his throat. T’Challa breathed out asmall laugh, his eyes closing as he leaned closer and pressed his forehead toWade’s.

“I know.” T’Challa whispered andmoved forward, his lips against Wade’s making him shiver. Wade moved his handsto T’Challa’s waist and pulled him closer, T’Challa smiled against his lips andwrapped his arms around Wade’s neck, deepening the kiss. Wade hummed and thenpulled back suddenly and gasped, his eyes going wide as he stared at T’Challa. T’Challa’stongue swiped across his lip before he pulled it between his teeth.

“You did not just Star Wars meduring my first love declaration!” Wade accused, his fingers digging into T’Challa’ships a little. T’Challa let his lip go and smiled.

“I’m pretty sure I did.” He said,his voice low, a smirk on his face as he looked at Wade. Wade sighed dreamilyand bit his own lip.

“God I love you.” He said desperately,surging forward and kissing him again. T’Challa made a small noise against hismouth before melting into the kiss. Wade pulled him closer and couldn’t help butthink he should have done this way fucking sooner.

#pantherpool #pantherpool prompt #requests #i know it took me ages but here you goooo #thank you again!!!#anon #my writing #Anonymous

16 notes · View notes

lady-thor-foster · 7 years

Text

Run To You // Sam Wilson x Reader P3

Pairing: Sam Wilson x POC Reader Word Count: 2k+ Warning: fluff, language, angst, abuse mentions, violence (justice) , FEELINGS

Summary: Andrew finally gets what he deserves. Steve makes a mistake. Healing from psychological trauma is always a lot easier said than done, but your newfound family makes sure you know you’re not alone.

A/N: Holy hell! You guys are absolutely fantastic with your feedback! I can’t believe you like this so much! This is probably going to end up have way more than 4 parts lmao. I cannae be stopped.

Inspiration: “In Repair” ~ John Mayer

“Too many corners in my mind, So much to do to set my heart right. Oh, it’s taking so long, I could be wrong, I could be ready. Oh, but if I take my heart’s advice, I should assume it’s still unsteady. I am in repair…I’m not together but I’m getting there…”

PREVIOUS CHAPTER // NEXT CHAPTER

Andrew got the surprise of his life when two Avengers showed up at his front door. He’d never felt so lucky or terrified.

“Can I help you gentlemen?”

“We’re here for [Y/N]’s things,” Bucky all but snarled. Andrew dropped his façade immediately.

“Is she fucking both of you too? You should probably get yourselves checked she’s always been a who—.” Andrew didn’t have a chance to finish his vile sentence before Bucky sucker punched him square in the jaw. Stumbling backwards in shock, Andrew balled up his fists to retaliate but the murderous glint in not just Bucky’s eyes made him reconsider.

“What the hell was that for, you fucking psycho?!” he screamed. Bucky moved to punch him again but Steve stepped in, grabbing the appalling man by the throat and slamming him into the wall.

“Listen here and listen well, asshole,” Steve hissed, “You’re not to ever call [Y/N] or any other woman that word again. In fact, you’re not allowed to even breath in [Y/N]’s general fucking direction. If she gets so much as a papercut in your vicinity I will hunt you down and put you in the ground myself. I won’t even need a metal arm to do it. Is that clear?” Andrew didn’t even have the dignity to keep from wetting himself out of fear. Steve released the atrocious man with disgust.

“Where are [Y/N]’s belongings?” Bucky demanded. Andrew pointed to a pile of three messily packed boxes next to the front door. Steve and Bucky grabbed them hastily, not wanting to stand in the same room as this cowardly reject of man any longer than necessary. On the way out the door, Bucky turned around and leveled Andrew with his gaze.

“You better pray I don’t ever hear your name again or I’ll find you and show you exactly how HYDRA turned me into the Winter Soldier.” Andrew’s eyes widened in absolute terror as he wet himself even further; Bucky rolled his eyes in revulsion and stalked out of the house. Absolutely pathetic, he thought to himself.

You woke up exceptionally warm. Your face was smushed into a familiar broad chest which made breathing just a tad difficult. Sam had always been a full body snuggler and last night was no exception.

“Oof, Sammy!” you whined into his chest while simultaneously trying to separate your limbs from his.

“Wha-What?” Sam mumbled, still half asleep, “[Y/N], what’s wrong?” Your determined movements pulled him into consciousness.

“I can’t breathe!” you complained.

“Oh shit. Sorry, Tink,” he laughed. Rolling your eyes, you rubbed feeling back into your aching limbs. You’d never get used to just how heavy he was.

This was the first time Sam had woken up next to you in his own room. He always loved how adorable you looked with sleep mussed hair and a cranky disposition. You disappeared into the bathroom. Despite everything that transpired yesterday, last night was the best night’s sleep he could ever remember having. A plume of hope flared in his chest at the idea of being able to wake up next to you for the rest of his life. He shook that thought from his head immediately; you weren’t his. You were never his.

You still couldn’t bring yourself to meet your reflection. Seeing your hands clearly for the first time terrified the hell out of you. You turned your back on the mirror; some things you just weren’t ready for yet. Peeling off your shirt, you forced yourself to look at the finger shaped bruised that angrily decorated your harms. Anger boiled inside of you. How dare he?! How dare he think himself so mighty that you were a plaything for him to toss around? Looking down at your protruding ribs, your anger melted into shame. How dare you allow yourself to become this way just to please someone else? Hot tears spilled from your eyes as you wrenched your shirt back on. How would anyone be able to love you now?

A soft knock came at the door. Sam groaned inwardly; he had hoped he’d get you all to himself just for a little while longer. Apparently life had other plans. Pushing himself to leave the warmth and comfort of his bed, he stalked grumpily to answer the door. It was a a bit of a shock to find Natasha and Wanda standing on the other side.

“Uh…hey... What’s up?” Natasha revealed a small bundle of clothing, she’d been concealing behind her back. Wanda held up hair supplies. Sam couldn’t help but grin at them, one of these days he’d finally be used to the never ending kindness of his teammates.

“Is she here?” Natasha whispered gently. Sam nodded and stepped backwards, allowing the women to enter his room. You heard faint voices and poked your head out of the bathroom in curiosity.

“Hey, Tink?” Sam called. Rolling your eyes, you stepped back into the room. Gesturing to the unfamiliar women, Sam introduced you.

“Nat, Wanda, this is [Y/N]. Or as I like to call her: TinkerBell.”

“Saaaaaam,” you whined, “you know how much I hate that nickname.”

“I can’t help it; you’re as cute as a Disney fairy.” You rolled your eyes and stuck out your tongue; you would never admit it but you actually really loved it when Sam called you that. It was something sweet shared just between the two of you. Both Wanda and Natasha snorted at the two of you. Suddenly you remembered your manners.

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry! It’s really lovely to meet the both of you! I promise I’m not usually this rude. Life has a way of demanding my full attention 10 minutes after I wake up,” you babbled.

Natasha waved your apologies away, “It’s perfectly okay. You should see Bucky or Barton in the morning. They’re real assholes before coffee.” You giggled.

“You laugh but she’s being completely serious, Tink. I’d face a thousand Chitauri armies before I faced Barton or Barnes without coffee in the morning,” Sam said.

“So,” Wanda interjected, “Nat and I thought you might be in dire need of some fresh clothes and maybe a hairbrush or two?”

Their sudden kindness stunned the hell out of you. Truth be told, you weren’t sure how the other Avengers would take to your presence on the Compound, especially after they found out what you’d been through. You’d never tell Sam, but you were absolutely terrified that Earth’s Mightiest Heroes would turn you away to deal with your own problems. Your self-worth had dwindled so much that you wouldn’t have even blamed them if they did. You were overwhelmed with their unprecedented compassion that you couldn’t help but burst into tears. That wasn’t the reaction anyone was expecting.

“Hey, hey sweetheart, please don’t cry,” Wanda rushed to you, doing her best to soothe you with her soft words. Natasha and Sam were close behind. Wanda wasn’t sure if you’d be okay with her touch so used her powers to send feelings of calm to you. The pain of your broken psyche was so severe that her gentle attempt to soothe you had no effect. Her eyes widened in shock; there’s only been one other person whose pain was so horrific that Wanda’s first attempts to soothe them failed. Bucky.

The exquisitely mammoth pain you carried around was enough to nearly bring Wanda to her knees. She was impressed you even had the strength to still stand upright. Wanda was no stranger to pain herself; she understood the mask you wore. She didn’t need her powers to see through you were now and who you had the capacity to be. The two of you had just met but Wanda already loved you. You were hers now; no one else would hurt you so long as she loved you.

“Nat,” Wanda pushed into the older woman’s mind while Sam pulled you into a bear hug. Natasha’s eyes narrowed at the mental intrusion.

“Yes?” she pushed back.

“She’s just like Bucky. I tried to calm her down and it didn’t work,” Wanda admitted ashamedly. Natasha’s eyes narrowed even further. It took every ounce of self-control she could muster not to leave the Compound, hunt down that abomination of a man and rip him to shreds. It was one thing to be abused and trained into a weapon for use; it took a special kind of civilian monster to do this just because they could.

“She’s under our protection. No matter what the cost.” Natasha pushed into Wanda’s mind. She didn’t have to be a telepath to know Wanda felt the same. No one else would hurt you as long as they had a say about it. Never again.

Sam and the women were more than understanding through your outburst. It was such a foreign feeling, having someone look at you with care instead of malice in their eyes. You kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. You kept waiting for the tables to turn.

Natasha and Wanda were right about how good a fresh change of clothes would feel on your battered body. They even managed to scare up cleansing conditioner and helped you return some life to your once bouncy curls. Two pairs of gentle fingers gently massaged your scalp, carefully working out the knots and kinks of your thick hair. The three of you bonded easily over everything; you found yourself becoming enamored with them. Two strong and fierce women that life snatched nearly everything from stood before you just as loving and empathetic as you could have ever dreamed. It gave you hope. You weren’t together yet, you probably wouldn’t be for a long time but with the love and care of your newfound family, you’d get there.

Sam stood in the doorway of the kitchen watched contentedly as Natasha and Wanda coaxed you into eating. Seeing two of the women he had become so fond of caring for the one he loved most in the world was a sight to behold. He wasn’t sure what he did to deserve this kind of love in his life but he damn sure wouldn’t question it. He was so enraptured with the sight he almost didn’t notice when Bucky and Steve walked up behind him.

“Hey Sam,” they greeted him. He grinned in response. Steve beckoned them to the living room. Sam and Bucky followed close behind and made themselves comfortable in nearby chairs.

“What’s up, Steve?” asked Sam.

“We’ve retrieved all of her belongings,” Steve said firmly. Sam looked back and forth between Steve and Bucky. He wasn’t sure how to properly react to the fact that his teammates had stepped up in such a monumental way. His shoulders sagged as he exhaled in relief.

“You—you don’t know what this means to me guys. Thank you, seriously.”

“She won’t ever have to worry about him bothering her or anyone else again,” Bucky growled.

“Wait—you didn’t…?”

“No,” Steve reassured Sam, “but you don’t know just how close I came. How anyone could treat someone they claimed to love with such abhorrence is beyond me.”

“He doesn’t deserve to live,” Bucky stated. His metal fist clenched and unclenched as he fought to keep his rage under control.

“We don’t get to make that choice, Buck.”

“But he—!”

“No!” Steve half shouted. Your head snapped up at the sound of Steve’s raised voice. Cowering into yourself, you pushed away the soup Nat and Wanda had spent the last 30 minutes trying to convince you to eat. Suddenly the prospect of food was no longer appealing. Wanda pulled you into a gentle hug and pressed a soft kiss into your hair. Patting your shoulder gently, Natasha stood up from the table and stalked into the living room where the men were currently residing.

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about in here but that girl in there is terrified for her life and she doesn’t need you three assholes going and making things worse for her. You make one more wrong move and I will end you myself, is that clear?” she hissed venomously.

“I’m sorry for shouting, you’re right. She doesn’t deserve this, she deserves so much more.”

“It’s not me you need to apologize to, Rogers.” Nodding, Steve took steadying breath. He couldn’t believe he allowed himself to lose his temper like that with you in the next room. Natasha was right; he owed you an apology. Standing up and straightening his slacks, he made his way to the kitchen humbly.

“[Y/N]?” he called. Wanda’s grip around you tightened at Steve’s cautious approach. You lifted your head from her shoulder to meet his sorrowful gaze.

“Hello, Captain,” you murmured. He winced at your distinctly formal greeting. He owed you so much more than a simple apology.

“Call me Steve, please,” he implored you. You gave him a small smile at his request.

“I need to apologize for my actions, [Y/N]. I should not have lost my temper like that; I should have been more considerate of your feelings. I am sincerely sorry and if you would allow me to, I would be more than happy to make it up to you.”

Steve’s genuine apology was absolutely foreign to you. You’d been so conditioned by Andrew that you were half expecting Steve to force you apologize for making him yell. Logically you knew it wasn’t your fault and there was no reason for you to apologize but there’s nothing logical about an abused psyche.

“…make it up to me? Why would you want to make it up to me?” you asked. Both Steve and Wanda’s eyes widened in sheer confusion. Just when they thought their hearts couldn’t break for you anymore, you go and prove them wrong.

“That’s what you do when you apologize to someone,” Wanda said into your hair, “you apologize with your actions as well as your words.”

“Oh.” It only took one word for Steve and the rest of the Avengers to realize they had their work cut out for them when it came to helping you undo all the damage Andrew had done to you. Just one word.

“Will you allow me to make it up to you, [Y/N]?” Steve asked softly. You had to give him credit; he was trying. That was more than Andrew had ever done. He stood there in front of you radiating such pure honesty and goodness that you couldn’t help but smile. Pulling yourself from Wanda’s loving arms, you stood up and offered your hand to Steve.

“Tell you what, Steve. You introduce me to Thor and Doctor Banner and convince Mr. Stark to show me his lab and I’ll consider us even,” you said with a grin. Steve’s answering grin was brighter than sunshine.

You weren’t together yet but you were getting there.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER // NEXT CHAPTER