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#anthony mackie fanfic
cevansbrat0007 · 2 years
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The TikTok Terror Rises Again
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Summary: The TikTok Terror is back with some new pranks for her poor men. Pray for them. Chris Evans x Black!Reader x Anthony Mackie
*Warnings: Shenanigans, Fluff, Some Smut, MFM, Angry Chris and Anthony, Possessive Behavior, Cursing, Bratty Reader, Petnames, Minors DNI
A/N: Thanks to @ljej95​ for one of the suggestions included in this fic! As always, I’d love your feedback, so please let me know what you think. Semi-proofread. Not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.
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“So you thought it was funny to take a good 10 years off our lives?” Your Honeybear is pissed.
“I almost had a fucking stroke.” And so is your Dumpling. He hops off the counter to shut the oven door.
“Yeah? And I’m pretty sure I have a concussion.” Poor, poor Honeybear.
“Oh, Sweet Dumpling.” He glares at you. “I’m pretty sure you forgot to baste the roast.” You bat your eyes at him.
“Get. Her.” He growls.
You take off running, laughing when Anthony slips and falls as he tries to give chase. You make it to your office and lock the door, Still giggling, you use the adrenaline coursing through you to position your rather heavy desk against the door. 
Looks like you’d be sleeping in here tonight. You grab a blanket and some snacks that you’d stowed away and curl up on your couch. Guess it was time to see what’s new on Kindle.     
TikTok Prank #11: The Pickle Jar Hack
“Is it just me, or does anyone else feel like it’s just kind of…mocking us now?” Sebastian asks as he glares down at the source of his irritation.
“Mmhm.” Anthony grunts in response. “No, no. I feel it too. Like, if it was 6” and a man, I’d have to take him out back and give ‘em the business.” 
“Well it’s not going to win, I can tell you that much.” Chris asserts with a growl as he picks up the pickle jar. “Gentleman, to the garage.” 
You struggle not to laugh, but you could’ve sworn Chris had said that last line almost the same way he would say “Avengers Assemble”. Anthony, Chris, and Sebas had been trying to open the jar of pickles you’d placed in front of them for the better part of the last 20 minutes. “Guys, it’s okay. I really don’t need pickles that badly. Really it’s -”
“No!” Anthony barks as they head out to the garage. “It’s the principle of the thing. And if my baby wants pickles, my baby gets pickles.” 
“Damn right she does.” Chris grumbles as he stomps out the door. “C’mon Seb.” And out they go. 
It’s only when you hear the door shut that you allow yourself to give in to the giggles bubbling up in your chest. They had been so sweet when you’d approached them and said you’d needed help opening that damned jar. You’d seemed so frustrated, and of course you knew they wouldn’t hesitate to show off their strength. It was a man thing, you know? 
But what they didn’t know, and what you had purposely neglected to tell them, was that you had already managed to open the jar on your own. And then you’d super glued it shut again. Nice and tight.
You fish out another jar of pickles from your secret hiding spot, along with a fork, and happily begin munching away. God, how you loved them. Your mother had eaten them all day long when she was pregnant with you and once you’d emerged from the womb, you had never been able to get enough. We’re talking Dill, Kosher, Garlic, Zesty Garlic…you could go through a jar on your own in like a day. 
Allowing yourself one last spear, you return the jar to its home and wait. 15 minutes later, your favorite men and their friend return looking somehow both sheepish and triumphant. 
“Well, Y/N.” Anthony coughs. “After employing the use of a couple tools, some mental prowess, and a little bit of elbow grease, we managed to get it open.”
“My heroes.” You bat your lashes at them. Their chests puff out a little at your praise. 
“You know, uh, I’m actually the one who finally got it open.” Sebastian is proud to tell you. Chris and Anthony turn to scowl at him. “It was a group effort.” Your boys mumble.
You go to hug Sebastian first, which clearly irritates the others. He wraps his arms around you and then stiffens. He sniffs the air. “I’m sorry, but do you…do you smell like pickles?” 
“What?” You cry out in indignation and back away, but not before grabbing the jar from him. “Of course I don’t!” Anthony and Chris’ heads swing to you. “She smells like pickles?”
“She does.” Sebas confirms, crossing his arms over his impressive chest. “See, this right here is the reason I have trust issues.” 
Chris crooks his index finger at you. “C’mere, Y/N. Let me smell you.” You balk at that. No way, dude...
“First of all, I gotta tell you that that is such a weird thing to say. Also, no.” You reach for the glass of water sitting nearby, which only seems to arouse further suspicion. “If you must know, I took a couple shots of apple cider vinegar while you were out there. For the health benefits.” You shrug. “The smell is just probably in your nose or something.”
“Right.” Sebas mutters. “In my nose. Y/N, I think I speak for all of us when I say, you are so fucking lucky we love you.”
Anthony lets out a low whistle. “Don’t worry Sexy Sebas. We’ll deal with our girl tonight, and if necessary, you’ll get your apology tomorrow.” 
“Yes you will.” Chris confirms. “Enjoy your pickles, sweetheart. Hope it was worth it.” And with that they head outside, mumbling things about women being bizarre as hell. Oh well. 
More pickles for you!        
TikTok Prank #12: Pretend To Throw Out Your Man’s Prized Possession(s)
“Oh good god!” Chris screams from the top of the stairs as you are helping Anthony run lines for his next role. “Guys, we’ve been robbed!” Both men had just returned home from separate promotional tours. Anthony on Tuesday and Chris on Wednesday. You both immediately perk up at the sound of the panicked man’s voice.
“We’ve been what?!” Anthony’s wide eyes stray to yours. “What?” He breathes.
“I - I…” You stumble as you meet his gaze. “No - no we weren’t…I would have known…”
“And you would have said something, right?” You aggressively nod your head as Chris races down the stairs. 
“Dumpling, baby, there’s no way we could have been robbed.” You coo softly as you get up from your seat to stroke your thumbs over the apples of his reddened cheeks. He pulls your hands away to face Anthony. 
“Mack, you don’t get it. I went to add my latest pair of designer shoes to my collection, and every pair was gone.” He’s breathing hard now, his breath coming in quick hot bursts. “I’m not talking one or two! When I say every fucking pair, I mean every fucking pair!”
“What are you talking about, man?” Your other boyfriend asks as he tries to process what his best friend is saying. “Y/N has been here the whole time. If there was a break-in then she would have known. She would have called the police and then us, way before now.” He looks to you for confirmation. “Right?” He tries again when you don’t respond quick enough.
“Come see for yourself then, Mack. I swear to god that I’m not making this shit up!”
“Um, okay…about the shoes…” You nervously twirl your thumbs as you look away. Silently you turn and head up the stairs, knowing they’ll follow. After a moment, you reach your bedroom where Chris’ sneaker collection had once lived. It also held Anthony’s expensive ass watch collection as well. But you weren’t brave enough to ever try anything with those.
As you expected, they are hot on your heels. You stop when you reach your room, the tense silence hanging thick in the air. “So about the shoes…”
“Yeah, tell me all about my goddamned shoes, Y/N.” He folds his arms over his chest, as does the other man standing next to him. Neither one of them look even the slightest bit happy with you, and there’s a part of you that knows things are only going to get worse before they get better. 
“I may have…sold them while you were gone.” Seemingly of their own accord, your eyes close as you brace for the tidal wave that is Chris. Instead your ears are met with the sound of strained laughter. You open your eyes to see the man in question looking at you in disbelief as he laughs. The only real indication that it’s not any kind of a good laugh is the one lone tear that trails down his cheek as he does it. Anthony rests a comforting hand on his back.
Chris had snapped.
“Sweet girl…” Anthony is clearly digging deep for patience as he watches his friend sink to the ground, awash with grief. “Why? Just give me one good reason as to why you would have done that?” His voice is hard, which has you anxiously bouncing on the balls of your feet.  
 “Well, because he had said he wanted to do some spring cleaning and make some space. So I did that. But I didn’t just want to throw them out, so I sold them.” Chris looks ready to have an aneurysm. “But we made good money off it. $10,000, in fact!”
“$10,000?” He whispers to Anthony. “She sold my babies for $10k.” Aw, shit. Is he hyperventilating now? “Y/N, that was a $100,000 fucking shoe collection! For fucks sake!” He lays down on the floor. Your other boyfriend goes to sit next to him. 
“Y/N, sweetheart.” Anthony grits out. “You know how much we both love you, but right now I think you should leave. Just go downstairs or something until I can get him together.”
“But I -”
“GO!” They both point at the door. If you didn’t know what was really going on, their response would have made you cry. A lot. 
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” The sniffle you let out as you turn to leave is very real. “But before I do -” They both turn to glare at you so fast as if daring you to continue. “Come with me. What I have to show you might make you, both of you, a little less upset.”
You boys continue to glare at you. “Honeybear, help him up and then come on. And after, if you want, I’ll go. I’ll even leave the house and get a hotel.”
“She had better get a -” Chris interrupts. 
“Stop, man. Our girl is not leaving this house.” They both get up and let you lead them down the hall to a different room. You enter and then open a closet door before flipping on the light…
Surprising them both with a renovated and very generously expanded closet that contains all of the missing shoes. Every. Single. Pair. Anthony pulls you back against his big chest as Chris brushes by you with an excited screech. “They’re all here, Mack! All of ‘em. Right here!”
“I had the work done while you guys were gone.” You mumble, staring at the floor. 
“Y/N, baby…” Anthony leans down to whisper: “why do you always like to play such dangerous games with us?” He nibbles the shell of your ear.
“Thank you for the gift, sweet girl.” Chris murmurs from his place on the floor as he admires his collection. “But I’m going to warn you that as soon as I get the feelings back in my legs again, you need to be afraid. Very afraid.” The dark sincerity in his voice has you choking on air.
Meanwhile, Anthony’s arms remain firmly wrapped around your middle. “I’ve got her right here, homie. So take your time, because our baby’s not going anywhere.” His hand slips down your pants and into your panties, his fingers lightly swirling over your clit. He keeps going the longer Chris gazes at his shoes, his rhythm picking up, making you keen. 
“Can you at least allow me a head start for my good deed?” You whimper. Kind of pathetically. 
“No, Y/N. You’re staying right here. I’ll hold you all night long if I have to.” 
TikTok Prank #13: Tell Your Man That You’re Meeting Up with Your Ex
You’re sitting on the couch in the living room with Chris. He’s on one and you’re on the other, with some random CNN special quietly playing in the background. Your man is reading the latest issue of Time Magazine, while you’re busy wasting time on your phone.
After a while, you let out a sigh. You can feel him look up at you, but you choose to keep your eyes on your phone. When you don’t say anything more, he goes back to reading. A few minutes later, you sigh again and mumble “okay, okay, Eric, fine”.
Chris perks up again, his head tilting to the side. Eric? He thinks to himself. Wasn’t that the name of…no it can’t be. There’s no way you would even think of talking to him.
You fling an arm over your head and stretch. “Hey Dumpling? I gotta head over to my ex’s for a minute.” Flashing him an “it is what is” style grin you go to get up off the couch. 
“Excuse me.” He hisses. “Where do you think you’re going?” The look on his face lets you know that if he has any say about it, Eric’s house is the last place you’ll be going. 
“It’s no big deal, baby.” You try to reassure him. “He just told me he found some of my stuff and wants me to come pick it up. I said I would because I want it back.” Chris throws his magazine to the floor as he stands up. 
“What kind of shit could you possibly need from him after two and a half years?” Yeah, he’s pissed. And confused.
“Um, he told me found some of my books, a few pictures, a couple hoodies. Yeah, I definitely want those back - the books and the hoodies I mean.” To say Chris is anything but flabbergasted is putting it mildly. 
“Oh fuck this game.” He mutters. “Anthony!” He bellows. “Anthony, get down here!”
“Dumpling, wait - please.”  Chris holds up his hand at you. 
“No, you wanna go to Eric’s place? Then I guess we’re all going to Eric’s place. I don’t even get why you want some fucking hoodies you haven’t missed or worried about in almost three years.” He’s in full rant mode now. “You don’t even wear the ones you have, you always steal ours and –.” Chris pauses. You can see the wheels turning in his head, right as Anthony comes down the stairs, wearing nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants. 
Damn is he fine. Both your men were.
“What, man?” He asks, clearly irritated. “I’m trying to get dressed.”
“Well then hurry up, because apparently the three of us are taking a trip.” He glares at you. “To Eric’s house.” Anthony looks at him as if he’s hit his head. “And just who the fuck is Eric, and why do we have to go there?”
You open up your mouth to respond, Chris isn’t having it. “Why, that’s Y/N’s ex. Apparently he’s been texting her.” Anthony’s full lips twist into a perplexed scowl. “He wants her to pick up some of her stuff after almost three years. Some books and some hoodies. Which she wants.”
Oy. Now they’re doing that thing where they talk about you as if you’re not here. 
“And why the hell would she want those? It’s not like she even wears the ones she has. She’s always wearing ours and -” Now the gears are spinning overtime in his brain too. 
Biting your thumb you try to interject, but they just keep going. “Chris, you and I both know we’re not letting our girl go to some deadbeat’s house to pick up some stupid fucking hoodies that she might’ve gotten from another man.”
“You’re right, Mackie.” They turn their heated gaze to you. “If our girl wants to wear a hoodie, she’s happy to raid one from either of our closets. She can even double up for all I care.”
“True enough. Because she knows that we were never a fan of the way he treated her in the first place.” Anthony crouches in front of you before gripping your chin in his hand. “And our sweet girl knows that if I saw him, I’d have to pop him in his mouth, and then it’d have to be something.”
Chris smirks at his words. “We both know that little bitch wouldn’t do shit.” He responds in reference to your ex.
“Right.” Anthony leans in to kiss your nose. “Which is why Y/N knows she’s not going over there. And if she can’t say “no”, then we’ll happily do it for her.” You’ve been so focused on your Honeybear that you’ve failed to notice that Chris is now hunched down next to you as well. 
“Do you need to give me your phone, baby girl?” Anthony coos softly, which is in sharp contrast to the fire in his eyes. “Do you need us to tell that little sad sac that you have all the hoodies you’ll ever need?” 
“No.” You whisper softly. “I - I got it. I’ll just block him. I don’t need those hoodies that bad.” You chuckle nervously. 
“There we go.” Chris purrs. “See, Mack? I knew she could be a good girl. It just takes a little coaxing.” Anthony slowly lets go of your chin.
“Thank you.” He grunts. “Now can I please finish dressing without any more interruptions? I’m looking at you, baby.” You quickly nod your head. “I’ll bring you one of my hoodies when I come back down. Little brat. 
TikTok Prank #14: Hide Under the Bed 
Since you enjoyed scaring your boys so much the first time, you figure it’s worth another go round. Tonight you tell them that you’re going out with your friend, Serena. Which you are. You just plan to arrive home earlier than they expect. Which you do. 
You know from the numerous, mildly tipsy texts that you’ve been receiving from them that they’re on their way home. Good. They’ve been teasing you all night, sending you message after message detailing how they plan to take you apart, work you over, and then put you back together again.
Knowing they’re due to arrive at any moment, you make your way upstairs. Stripping down to your black panties, pink cami, and black bra, you climb under the bed. It’s a tight fit for sure, but you’re committed to your cause. 
You lie in wait, only perking up when you hear Chris and Anthony make their way into the house from the garage. The sound of their raucous laughter warms your heart. You positively adored your men, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t love fucking with them. So you stay hidden. You’d made sure to silence and hide your phone in your underwear drawer, so even if they called you, they wouldn’t know you were already home. 
It takes a little while, but eventually you hear their heavy footfalls coming up the stairs.They begin talking softly when they enter the room.
“Aye Chris, what time is Y/N coming back? I want our girl home, man.”
You hear Chris sigh. “I don’t know, but hopefully soon. Give me a little more time to sober up and we’ll go get her.”
Anthony lets out a giggle. It’s manly, but it’s still a giggle nonetheless. “She’s gonna be so mad if we do that.”
“Yeah, but I kinda like it when she’s mad. She’s such a little handful.” The warmth in his voice has you positively melting.  
“Mmhm, but then we get to settle her down. Trying to get our feisty wildcat to purr like the little kitten we both know she is…man...”
“But you gotta love the fact that she only purrs for us.” Chris’ voice is positively dripping with pure male satisfaction. 
“I really want to make her purr right now.”
“Then let’s call a Lyft and go get our lady. Imagine how much fun we’ll have wrestling her into the backseat.” They both chuckle at that. 
And that’s when you realize that you’ve been so caught up in their conversation that you’d forgotten you had a job to do. Taking a deep breath, you take your fist and bang it against the wall, causing a loud “thump”. Both men go quiet.
“That was the house settling, right?” Anthony breathes out, suddenly sounding nervous. “Please tell me that that was the house settling.”
“Uh, yeah. Of course it was, man. In fact, it sounded like it came from this wall over here.” Their socked feet move closer to your hiding spot under the bed. Not being able to resist, you slowly reach out to tickle their ankles. 
“OH SHIT!” Anthony and Chris both squeak, yes squeak, at the same time, before suddenly leaping onto the bed and out of sight.
“Something touched me, bro.” Chris wheezes, clearly trying to catch his breath.
“Must have been a draft…” Anthony whispers, sounding rattled.
“Yeah, yeah. Except, the ceiling fan isn’t on and none of the windows are open.” They’re both breathing hard and on full alert. You pick that moment to bash one fist against the boxspring, while banging the other against the wall.
“FUCK THIS!” Chris all but bellows. But Anthony, well, your sweet Honeybear has had enough. From his position on the bed you hear him shout: “I don’t know who or what the fuck is in here, but our girl is coming home soon, which means me and my boy here are going to have to fuck you up!”
You hear Chris’ sharp intake of breath. “That’s right, Casper! So - so come on out and take your ass whooping like a man!”
You cover your mouth, torn between feelings of pride and straight up laughter. They were so cute that you decide it’s finally time to reveal yourself. 
“You really want to fight me, boys?” You giggle from underneath the bed. “I mean, I’ll take you on. But can I at least stretch first?” You’re actually surprised when you hear them laugh. You’re talking about deep, gut-busting laughter coming straight from your men.
They climb off the bed and kneel on the floor to peek at you. “You are in so much trouble, sweet girl. Get your ass out from under there.” They help tug you out, still laughing. Anthony kisses your forehead. “You just took another five years off our lives, honey. That puts you at fifteen.”
Chris’ hands go to tickle your waist. “Mackie’s right. Now how do you plan to make things up to us before we expire?” 
You drop down to your knees in front of them, hands going to the fastenings on their pants. “Hmm, I think I can come up with a few things.” You shoot them a mischievous as you take them into your mouth, one after the other. Over and over again
TikTok Prank #15: Get Your Man’s Reaction to the Infamous TikTok Leggings
Today you were going on a morning run. Your men were still sleeping, which gives you time to quickly tug on your new pair of those leggings everyone had been raving about on TikTok. You follow it up with donning a black sports bra and a baggy t-shirt, just before Anthony starts to wake.
“Mm…Y/N?” He murmurs sleepily, his hand reaching out in search of your warmth. Your men were so cute when they woke up. “Where you goin’ baby?”
“Just on a run, honey. Go back to sleep.”
“Skip it and come back to bed. Need you to keep me warm…” 
“Shhh.” You whisper, not wanting to risk him waking Chris. You brush a quick kiss over his forehead. “Sleep, big man. I’ll be back soon.” You watch as his eyes flutter closed. Adorable.
Lacing up your shoes, you head downstairs to grab your phone, headphones, arm band, and a spray bottle before heading out through the garage. You pause at your car, opening the trunk where you deposit your t-shirt and grab another package. And then you were off. 
Your run lasts about five minutes - just long enough for you to turn the corner and make it to your friend Rachel’s house. She greets you at the door with a mimosa. 
….
After about an hour you say your goodbyes and take off for home. You knew your men would be awake by now. But before you leave, you take your spray bottle full of water and wet yourself down so it looks like you’ve really worked up a sweat.
As you near the house, you notice Anthony is outside talking to a neighbor. He notices your approach before your boyfriend does. “Good morning, Liam!” You wave at him. Anthony turns around and stops in his tracks, momentarily stunned, his smile frozen on his face as he takes in your attire. You sidle up next to them. 
“Hey there, good lookin’!” You chirp, rising on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. You chuckle inwardly when you feel Liam’s gaze stray to your ass. “I just had the best run, but I am absolutely parched. See you guys later.”
You turn to walk inside, taking note of Anthony’s strangled gasp when he gets a load of your booty. Too bad you couldn’t shake it right now, but you make sure your hips sway with every step you take.
Two minutes later, you hear Anthony behind you. “Baby, I’m so glad you had a good run but…” You reach into the refrigerator for a bottle of water. “But what, honey?” He hops up and down just a little with restless energy. 
“I was just thinking that maybe you should workout inside from now on.” Your only response is a raised brow, lips coming together in a firm line. “You know we’ve got that whole home gym downstairs that we barely even use.” Huh?
“Oh? Could’ve sworn you and Dumpling used it all the time.” He struggles to answer just as Chris walks in. 
The other man immediately takes you in his arms. “Good morning, sweetness.” He growls into your neck. “Missed you in bed.”
“Oof!” You growl playfully. “Get off silly. I’m pretty gross right now. All this sweat and stuff…eww!”
“Aww, stop it, Y/N. You are the furthest thing from gross.” What you don’t know is that Anthony is behind you, motioning for Chris to look down. And when he finally does, he is mesmerized by the sight of your ass. “Damn.” He mouths at Anthony.
“I was just telling our girl here about the home gym downstairs.” He aggressively mimes for Chris to understand, which he quickly does. 
“He’s right, he did. But I didn’t forget it was there. You boys use it all the time. And I like to run. Outside.”
“But baby…” Chris murmurs as he releases you. “We could work out together.” You take another pull of your water bottle. “Me and Mack could lift, you know? Curl some weights. And you…you could run on the treadmill.” You blink up at him, the look on your face letting him know that you are so not convinced. 
“That’s right!” Anthony chimes in. “It’d be a whole little family affair.”
You turn your nose up at that suggestion. “Nah, running on a treadmill makes me feel like a hamster. Plus you guys make way too much noise when you workout. All that grunting and groaning…it’s too distracting.” You turn to head upstairs, giving both your men a good look at your legging-clad backside. You giggle softly when you hear their twin moans.
“Y/N, baby, but when you run outside you’ve got to think about cars…” Anthony growls as he jogs behind you.
“Thanks for the concern, Honeybear. But I run on the sidewalk, not in the street.”
And then comes Chris. “What about wild animals? Have you considered those?”
“Yep, he’s right, Y/N. We’re talking about stray dogs and cats…”
“Thanks for the concern, boys, but I’ll be fine. And you already know if I see either one, I will try to bring them home myself. So I’ll the one responsible for that battle.” You reach your bedroom and let out a sigh. Of course they’re still with you. 
“But then you’ve got to think about coyotes! They are taking over!” Anthony exclaims.
“He’s right. I just watched a whole special on it.” That makes you roll your eyes. 
“Coyotes? In the daytime? In this neighborhood? Okay.” You proceed to start getting undressed. “You know boys, typically I’d invite you to shower with me, but you’re both being weird so…” You take off your sports bra, letting your breasts go free. 
“Guys.” You whip around to face them. “You’ve never been this odd about my runs before. Does this have something to do with my leggings? Do you…not…like them?” Both Anthony and Chris immediately focus on your chest. You cross your arms, inadvertently pushing them up even higher. You then watch as their heads simultaneously tilt to the side.
“They’re the breast.” Chris coughs. “I mean the best!”
“Baby, we love your leggings. It’s something about that ass that has us all twisted up.” Anthony breathes as his large, rough hand goes to rub at his hardening cock. 
Paying them no mind, you yank your remaining clothing off your body and pad to the shower. “Well, gentleman, I’m about to shower. If either one of you can manage to untwist yourselves while the water heats up, then feel free to join me. If not, well…your loss.” With that you blow them both a kiss and stride into the bathroom.
“But if we untwist, then can we at least talk about the importance of stranger danger?” One of them cries out.   
END
305 notes · View notes
mojiitoos · 7 months
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So marvel made bucky look at sam like that and they're nothing much than «besties»
Please, i was looking at my best friend like that before i knew i was in love with her.
Don't mess with me, i am not the one🤺
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anyca786 · 1 month
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Press Conference
Platonic!Marvel cast (Chris Evans, Sebastian Stan, Benedict Cumberbatch, Anthony Mackie, Tom Hiddleston) x actress!reader
Summary: When a notorious press member became too personal,your marvel family stood up for you.
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The flashbulbs exploded in synchronized bursts as you entered the Endgame press conference, the air thick with anticipation. You, the newest member of the MCU family, were the talk of the town, and tonight, all eyes were on you.
The lights dimmed, a hush fell over the packed auditorium. All eyes swivelled towards the entrance as the press conference host boomed, "Let's give a warm welcome to Y/N L/N, our newest addition to the Marvel Cinematic Universe!"
Chris Evans, seated beside Benedict Cumberbatch, couldn't help but steal a glance, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. Sebastian Stan, across from him, mirrored the sentiment, his gaze lingering a beat longer. Tom Hiddleston, ever the gentleman, offered a small, knowing nod, while Anthony Mackie, your on-screen partner, winked playfully, muttering, "Ready to steal the show, Y/N?"
After introductions and greetings, everyone settled into their assigned sofas, you positioned amongst the Avengers heartthrobs. The press conference began, questions flying thick and fast, your name met with excited murmurs and camera clicks.
You settled onto your designated sofa, a nervous flutter in your stomach. But as the press conference began, you found your rhythm, your wit and intelligence shining through your responses. Your laughter filled the room, captivating not just the audience, but also the men around you.
Their gazes, once discreet, became bolder. Chris leaned in, his smile widening with every insightful point you made. Benedict chuckled at your witty retort, his eyes sparkling with appreciation. Sebastian's lips twitched, and Tom offered a thumbs-up, his smile tinged with a hint of something deeper. Even Anthony, usually the joker, seemed captivated, his gaze lingering on you with newfound respect.
Then, the atmosphere shifted. A reporter, notorious for his inappropriate remarks, directed his attention solely at you, his motives seemingly more personal than professional, began peppering you with flirtatious questions, his gaze lingering a little too long on your figure. The room grew tense, and you could sense a change in your fellow MCU stars. Chris's normally relaxed posture stiffened, his jaw clenching imperceptibly. Sebastian's smile vanished, replaced by a steely glint in his eyes. Tom, even Tom, seemed to radiate a cool disapproval.
"Y/N," the reporter drawled, his voice dripping with insincerity, "you're absolutely captivating. Tell us, does playing alongside such handsome co-stars come with any perks?"
Benedict leaned closer, his voice barely a whisper, "You don't have to answer that, Y/N. He doesn't deserve your attention." His words, laced with a quiet intensity, sent a wave of gratitude through you.
You gave him a polite smile, your response witty and deflecting. But you saw Chris clench his jaw, and Sebastian crossed his arms, a scowl forming. You appreciated their silent show of support, focusing on the next question.
However, the reporter persisted. "Come on," he pressed, "surely there's some juicy behind-the-scenes romance brewing..."
Before you could even formulate a reply, a chorus of voices interrupted.
Suddenly, Chris interrupted, his jaw clenched, stood up, his voice low and dangerous. "Excuse me, but your line of questioning is overstepping boundaries."
Anthony, equally protective, rose, his voice booming, "Show some respect, man!"
Benedict, ever the diplomat, interjected, "Let's keep things professional, shall we?"
Sebastian, his eyes narrowed, added, "We won't tolerate any further disrespect towards Y/N."
Tom, ever eloquent, finished the thought, "Her talent speaks for itself, no need for cheap tactics."
The reporter, flustered and intimidated, stammered an apology, slinking back in his seat. You sat there, speechless, the warmth of their protectiveness washing over you.
The press conference continued, but the mood had changed. The air buzzed with a new energy, a silent understanding between you and the men around you. You were no longer just the newest star; you were their colleague, their friend, and they would fiercely protect your place in their universe.
Later, after the formalities were over, Chris approached you, a sheepish grin on his face. "Sorry about that," he muttered, "we don't take kindly to anyone disrespecting our team."
You smiled, touched by their protectiveness. "It means a lot," you admitted, "having you all have my back."
A comfortable silence settled between you, before Chris chuckled. "Besides," he winked, "who wouldn't stand up for someone as brilliant and beautiful as you?"
Your cheeks flushed, and you laughed, the warmth in Chris's eyes making your heart skip a beat. Maybe being an Avenger wasn't just about saving the world, but also finding a new kind of family, one that protected you not just from villains, but also from inappropriate reporters and perhaps, even budding feelings.
And as you looked around at the smiling faces of your co-stars, you knew you wouldn't trade this experience for anything, even if it meant facing a few intrusive questions along the way. After all, who wouldn't want to be protected by Earth's Mightiest Heroes, both on and off screen?
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Please suggest anything related to marvel characters, cast or actors. I'm very new to this, I just started yesterday *cries*
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mrsmischief209 · 2 months
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Let me Keep You
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AN: Mostly fluffy moments. Some angst. Yes some alluding to se-x. It has been far too long since I gave written for Sam. This is for @targaryenvampireslayer blind date challenge. First submission. Au given was Biker and quote will be in bold. All mistakes are my own. English isn't my first language so be kind. Alluding to a Dom/sub dynamics. Thanks to @firefly-graphics for the line divider.
The music wasn’t at an annoying level which you were thankful for as you walked up to Monica’s front door. This home party wasn’t something you had planned to attend this weekend. But since your fiancée Sam had been on the road longer than they had expected had you antsy. Knowing the rules of what happens on the road stays on the road.
But if being completely honest you trusted Sam. He has proved himself over the lenght of the relationship. He trusted and depened on you as well. The main concern will always be if he or any of the club had been injured or that the deal had done south which left communication to the back burner. So here you were coming to a party you had no business attending.
It will either be demise and salvation. Everything going on had you on edge. Which always lead you to go out and cause some mischief. Everything with the club has been a bit hectic. It all fell on Sam’s shoulders which meant he didn’t have as much quality time together. Of course, you tried to help as much as you could.
Between work and making sure everything back at home still ran smoothly the time you had left went to going to the club house to make sure everything was stocked and to control the club bunnies who decided to test the bonds between the bikers and their partners. Watching day in and out how Sam step into the shoes that the previous club president. Sure, as Vice President it was his to step into. But he also had to make sure that all the members would be behind him through thick and thin as a brotherhood.
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Of course, Bucky had Sam’s back not just because he was rising to the rank of VP but as a brother. Bucky and Sarah had gotten married last spring. Since both Sam and Bucky were gone, it would benefit you and Sarah to be in one home since it was always easier to get out together if needed or just hunker down and wait out.
The vibrations in your back pocket had you reaching for your phone. The background picture was of you and Sam both back in Delacroix right after Bucky and Sarah’s wedding. On his parent’s boat smiling as the sun set. Sarah’s text message preview had you opening your phone.
Monica’s voice caught your attention as she came to the door. “Oh my God. You actually came to the party come in please.” The smile came easily as you walked into Monica’s house. “Yeah, it has been a while since we have partied together and there is no time like the present right?”
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The house party was a lot crazier than you had anticipated. Sure, the music was lower but the shenanigans happening inside did not match. Honestly once you were in the kitchen grabbing a drink you wanted to tuck tail and go home.
But this was meant to allow you to take you mind off the sinking feeling in your chest that had been pressing down on you since Sam became president of the Avengers.
Your worry for the love your life needed to leave your mind. You needed and wanted to be strong for Sam. He had so much on his shoulders now. Adding your own intrusive thoughts to weigh him down wasn’t a option you wanted to give into.
With that in mind that had you pushing through your instincts and had you drinking enough to lull you into a false sense of safety.
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It had been two hours since Sam came home. He went directly to his sister’s house. He wanted to see his nephews and sister sure. But he needed to see you. He was running off the high of everything turning out perfectly. Wanting to celebrate with the love of his life had him running on the edge of holding you close and wanting to lavish you with all the love he felt. As well as wanting to worship you so thoroughly that you couldn’t think straight for the next two days.
He had to hold back his own desires until he could get you home was becoming more and more agonizing as the distance to you was a few feet. Or so he thought.
The first thing he hears from his sister is that you had not made it home after work. She did know that you had been considering going to a house party of one of your coworkers. Honestly any other time there wouldn’t be any issues or concerns. But right now? There most certainly there was.
You were keeping him from you. All he wanted to do was to pull you close to him and to be lost to the world for the next week. But now not now he wanted no he needed to remind you why you followed the rules. How much you enjoyed being good for him.
As you took a seat on the now empty love seat. Feeling the vibration in your back pocket had you remembering the last message you had missed earlier. As the phone lit up so did the hair in the back of your neck. You were soo in trouble. You had missed Sam coming home.
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Sarah had texted you to let you know that Bucky had called to let you know they were an hour out from being home. Looking at the time let a shiver run down your spine. It had been more than two hours since that message was sent.
A new message came in as you heard a commotion at the entrance of the house. Happy cheers and greetings as the words typed into your messages “You’re so in for it when we get home.” As you lifted your eyes from the screen of your phone you met the eyes of your beloved. His eyes played with an emotion you had seen before. The smirk that played on his lips had you clenching. Oh, you were so in for it. Being aware of everyone trying to calculate how fast it would take you to get out of the house.
His sweet smile and the tilt of his head had you jumping to your feet and walking backward as he sauntered forward. “What is wrong mon cher? Not going to come and greet me properly? I have missed you soo much.” The soft sonorousness of his voice made your stomach flutter as the warmth in your chest spread. All you gave him was a small smile before you turned and bolted for the back door yelling over your shoulders.
“Got to catch me first mon coeur”
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ramp-it-up · 1 year
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The Sweetest Nectar
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Pairings: Sam Wilson x Reader. Steve Rogers x reader
Summary: Steve is pining for you and the fact that you are Sam’s girl doesn’t mean a thing.
Word Count: 1K.
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. SMUT, 
Warnings: Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT! Read at your own risk; curate your own experience. Soft Dark Subby Nomad Steve Rogers. Darkish reader. Mention of pre-serum Steve, Lap dance in public, voyeurism, masturbation, mention of drugs and alcohol, pining, angst, teasing, exhibitionism (on reader’s part), possible non con exhibitionism (on Sam’s part). Oral sex (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up), sloppy seconds, possible cheating. All errors my own.
A/N: Thanks for this ask! It streched me.
I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘
I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
You were giving your boyfriend a lap dance on Steve’s couch, and it made the host irrationally happy. 
Steve was glad that Sam had someone, especially someone as sweet as you. Damn, you were probably so fucking sweet.
Steve licked his lips as he watched your hips undulate in front of Sam’s face. This was the perfect opportunity to watch you and ogle your body, because everyone was a little tipsy and a little high and doing it too. 
It was all in fun, right?
You glanced at Steve upside down as you gyrated on Sam’s lap now, and bent backward all the way over, your braids touching the floor, giving the room a view of your luscious tits. 
Yeah. You were perfect. And this night was the highlight since Steve came out of the ice.
You winked at Steve and his face grew red, but he played it off by taking another drink and rubbing his beard while flipping his long hair out of his face.
It worked on countless other women, but you just sat back up and pulled Sam’s face into the valley of your breasts, gasping as he motorboated your clothed breasts and grabbed the glorious globes of your blue-jeaned ass. 
People laughed, but Steve’s mood changed; he started plotting dismemberment and where to scatter body parts when Bucky came up to stand beside him and watch.
“Hold it up a little higher, buddy.”
Steve didn’t tear his eyes away from you as he took another drink and replied.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“That torch you’re carrying. Maybe she’ll see it if you hold it up higher, Lady Liberty.”
Steve just scoffed and drank some more, not denying anything that Bucky had said.
Bucky laughed and went to get another beer, as Steve practically cried in his, his heart silently aching for you.
—-
You and Sam were in Steve’s bedroom, taking advantage of the fact that everyone else was doing body shots in the kitchen.
“F-f-fuckkkkk! Samuel T-t-t-hom… fuck, Samuel Thomas W-w-wilsonnnnn.”
You were grabbing Sam’s ears as he skillfully ate you out, looking down on him between your legs as he sucked and pulled and played with your clit.
“Fucky, Baby… where did you learn to do … goddamn…”
You panted to try and catch your breath as he inserted three fingers inside you and spread them out.
“Holyyyyyy Shhhhhhh!!!!!!!!” 
You came like a freight train, your knees clamping down around Sam’s head. Sam’s large hands pried you from around his face and came up for air, a triumphant smirk on his face. He held your legs open and gazed at the pretty dark, wet lips of your cunt and the creamy liquid oozing out between them.
“Learning new techniques every day. Just to keep you satisfied, darlin’,”
Sam shook his head and watched as your pretty pussy lips sheltered your still quivering folds.
“It’s a beautiful view.”
Steve silently agreed from the closet, watching your beautiful cunt shine in the dim light from the street. He had his hand wrapped around his cock, fisting himself brutally at the sights, sounds, and faint smell of you. Steve silently willed Sam to action, wanting to hear how that wet pussy sounded when it was fucked good. 
It was just like before the war, when he watched Bucky…
“Hmmmm, Daddy. Give me some. Please? Pretty please. Will you give me some of that thick dick?”
You leaned back, legs still open, looking up at Sam, who was standing now, in front of you.
Your face, fucked out and glowing, looked up at his friend as you licked your lips was everything in the world to Steve Rogers right now.
Steve imagined it was him you were begging, and he didn’t know if he wanted you to suck Sam off or let him fuck you senseless. He just knew that wanted to bust this nut.
“Assume the fucking position then.”
You whimpered, and Steve nearly bust in his hand.
“Yes, Daddy.” 
You got on all fours on the bed and that view was even better than before. Oh, how he’d eat that ass, Steve thought.
Sam smacked both cheeks three times, and your moans and sighs alone were enough to make Steve cum. He watched his friend line up his thick dick and swipe it through your folds, and could almost feel your beautiful wetness. Stevehad to bite his lips to hold in his own grunts as Sam slowly, wetly, and solidly sank into you. 
“Ohhhhhh… shit….DADDY!!!”
“Fuuuuuccccckkkkkk!”
Sam’s head lolled back on his shoulders as he bottomed out and Steve’s eyes practically rolled back in his head as he witnessed the ecstasy. 
Then, Sam looked down and smacked your ass again. Steve watched, rapt, as Sam slowly pulled almost all the way out, then plunged quickly back into your wet goodness. He bet you were so warm. Sam did it again and again and again, faster and faster, and faster. Steve stroked in time as you moaned louder and louder and louder, oblivious to the others at the party.
Steve watched your back arch, and your flesh shake and ripple with every back shot delivered. He was so fucking close.
“Daddy? Daddy? Please Daddy.. I wanna, I wanna….I neeeeeed to…”
“Cum, Darlin’... give it to me. Fuck yeah!”
Sam’s voice was a growl and as you started shaking, Steve’s cum started spilling into his palm and the sock that he was using to contain it.
“Shhsshhhhittttttt….” Steve’s whisper was not silent, but quiet enough that you two wouldn’t hear it over your own noises.
You and Sam collapsed on the bed..
“That was great, Darlin’. You shouldn’t tease me like that in public. ‘S not gonna stop me from giving it to you.” 
Sam kissed your nose.
“I am well aware of what that does to a man. Makes it that much better, Daddy.”
Sam laughed, and then moved toward the bathroom.
“We better get outta here, before Steve catches us in his bedroom.”
You looked toward the bathroom and then sat up on the edge of the bed, legs open again.
Steve saw your wrecked pussy, the combination of you and Sam seeping out, and his cock swelled again. He nearly yelled when he saw you playing in it again. It was like you were doing it just for him.
But you stopped when Sam came back out to get dressed.
“I need a little more time to get cleaned up. You go ahead.”
“Ok Darlin,” Sam leaned over and kissed your forehead and you reached for a peck on the lips.
“You made me hungry, took all my energy. I’m going to go eat some food.” 
Sam winked and left the room smiling and happy.
When the door closed, you stared straight at the closet.
“Well? Are you going to stay in there and jack off again, or are you going to come out and clean me up?”
You leaned back on your hands, legs wide.
“Now’s your chance Steve. I know you’re in there. Are you going to come out Captain?”
Steve gulped. Then he couldn’t help but comply.
“Fuck…”
Steve emerged from the closet, the tip hard cock glistening and stiff at the opening of his undone pants. He walked toward you and dropped to his knees.
You threaded your hand in his hair, brushing it away from his forehead as he closed his eyes at your touch. You guided his head toward your throbbing cunt.
“You get sloppy seconds, but I bet that’s what you like…”
“Yes ma’am.” 
Steve nodded vigorously as his tongue collected the sweetest nectar he’d ever tasted.
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All we need is some astronaut!sambucky  
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th30ra3k3n · 1 year
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YEAH MY BOYFRIEND’S PRETTY COOL
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BUT HE’S NOT AS COOL AS ME
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‘CAUSE I’M A BROOKLYN BABY
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halfrican-heat · 7 months
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Lyv’s Library 📚
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Hey, I'm Lyv! This is my masterlist. Browse around and see what you might like. Be sure to check out my BIO and REQUEST RULES for more info. Happy reading!
REQUESTS ARE: OPEN
Legend: ANGST/FLUFF/SMUT/SERIES
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Ony's Observatory
Shorts
Backseat Driver Upstanding Gentleman
Full Fics
ALL MINE
Curated Characters
Sober!Ony Wedding Planner!Reader
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Eren's Entrance
Full Fics
FAME (1)
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Mackie Museum
S. Wilson
Take Care of You (Blurb)
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Evans Exhibit
A. Levinson
Freakum
S. Rogers
Slow&Steady
R. Drysdale
Ain't Shit.
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rqgnarok · 8 months
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catalogue - sam wilson
fandom: marvel, the falcon & the winter soldier
wc: 4,368
warnings: implied smut, mentions of injuries and scars, blood and bruises. neutral pronouns, no use of (y/n).
summary: you and sam don’t get to see each other often, but when you do, there’s a ritual you insist on going through to deal with your time apart. 
masterlist / ao3 / ko-fi
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You’re a sight for Sam’s sore eyes. 
He hasn’t seen you in over six months. It’s an occupational hazard, he knows, but it’s the worst. Being the Falcon made his personal life take a step back in his list of priorities, and becoming Captain America meant setting the list on fire and declaring Sam Wilson’s downtime practically nonexistent. As far as he’s aware, Sarah and the boys are the only exceptions to the rule.
It’s not all on him. You’re an Avenger, too, even if you’re semi-retired. Semi, because the new kids still look for guidance as much as they can and you still keep a room at the Avengers compound because of it, even if scarcely decorated. 
You make your entrance by scaring the shit out of him because of course, you have to. 
“Is this what you call watching your six?”
Sam puffs out a sound between a scoff and a laugh. It’s always an interesting mix of emotions with you, Sam has never felt so safe and yet unbalanced than when he’s in your presence. It creates a sort of vacuum in his belly that has him feeling like a kid with a crush, but he’ll die before he ever admits that to anyone. Especially you.
“You know you don’t have to sneak up on me every time.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” you quip, raising your brows and extending a hand that Sam takes to haul himself back on his feet. You click your tongue. “Gotta say, though, it’s a little less charming now that you’re Captain America. Where does that leave national security?”
Sam rolls his eyes so hard he’s about to give himself a headache, dusting off his ass and giving you a quick once-over, taking advantage of your sudden closeness to do so freely. “Thank Jesus the world still has you, then.”
“Only half time,” you shrug, unaware that Sam knows you’ve spent more time at the Avengers compound than your own apartment lately. If he has a few eyes that check up on you when you’re there, well. It’s only cause he worries. “You and Barnes playing in the Big Leagues leaves a lot of unfinished business for little guys like us.”
“Says the little guy who’s been to space,” Sam uses the same argument he always does when you try to downplay your importance in the job you do. It’s like a script, these meetings of yours, always under the excuse of responsibility until it’s not– until the conversation flows into what Sam has been aching for since the last time he saw you. 
You roll your eyes like he knew you would. You’ve been an Avenger since before they had the name for it, so if anyone deserves the semi-retirement, Sam concedes, it’s gotta be you. He won’t pretend it won’t be a big hit when you choose to walk away completely, though. Whether that’s to the business or Sam’s life, well. That’s another conversation.
He misses you. It’s hardly a crime. 
“And they’ve still got us doing intel like we’re rookies,” you shrug, lessening your significance anyway. As if you weren’t up there in the cosmos chasing after freaking Thanos, but Sam won’t argue with you about this. You already spend so little time together to waste it building conflicts between you.
“Please,” Sam’s a professional, so he doesn’t make a bitchface and say girl with disbelief coating his tone, but judging from the amusement that glints in your eyes, you read through the lines with ease. “Like we’d let the children anywhere near this.”
“Okay, Dad,” you snort. “How are Torres and Barnes anyway?”
“The kid and his grandpa are fine,” he goes for annoyed but his grin is boyish and unrestrained. “Jealous they weren’t authorized to drop by. This is practically a vacation, you know.”
You shake your head, but all in good fun. “If your bosses have you thinking that then you desperately need some real downtime.”
“This is as close as it gets, these days.” 
Torres had flown him all the way to Switzerland just so Sam could go and spend a few weeks in a rustic, semi-abandoned town on the outskirts of the city where an old SHIELD safehouse still stood against all odds. 
Why he had to go to the other side of the world for some intel, he asked and got no answer. Now it comes to mind how he has no idea where you– his contact– have been stationed lately nor what kind of work you’ve been pulling for whoever it is you answer to these days.
You don’t tell him about it, and he’s quit on trying to ask. Whether it’s because you don’t think he’ll approve of what you’re doing or because it’s strictly classified, Sam doesn’t know. 
“Blink twice if they’re holding you hostage,” you say in all seriousness, and he peels his eyes at you without blinking, getting close to your face. You laugh, pushing him away. “Alright, alright, I get it. You’re one with the nation. Let me show you these files and see what Mr. America makes of ‘em.”
The physical files you actually bring with you are minimal, and most of the data you’ve been ordered to skim through is kept in a USB you hand to Sam as soon as the coffee has kicked in. Neither of you are exactly sure what it is you’re looking for so you’re stuck in the studio of the tiny, look-at-me-wrong-and-I’ll-crumble safe house for over three whole days before you finally start gathering some worthy intel.
“I was told we’d known when we found it,” you shrug, not visibly bothered by the fact that you’ve most likely been sent on a wild goose chase. “Or if we didn’t. We might go back empty-handed after all.”
It’s not encouraging but it’s what you’ve got, even if Sam isn’t sure he’s able to be out of commission for that long. He’s realized people get antsy when Captain America isn’t seen somewhere in the world after a few days, but despite how hard he tries he’s not able to be in two places at once.
“Yet,” he tells you when you take a food break and you allow him to rant about these troubles. “Haven’t figured it out yet, but Steve kind of managed it after a few years, right?”
“Steve was superhuman,” you remind him helpfully behind your coffee cup. You’d found some old whiskey at the back of a cabinet and doused your drink with it, so you make a face when it goes down. 
“You don’t think I’m super?”
“I think you’re something, alright.”
“Aw. That was almost a compliment.”
“Can’t let it get to your head, hotshot. Ego’s already too big for your body.”
It’s so fucking domestic Sam feels the ache of it in his teeth. You, sitting at the table in your tiny kitchen while he sits on the counter, each drinking your coffee how you like it as the sun sets through the window above the sink. Talking for hours until you realize you’re practically sitting in the dark as the afternoon flew by while you were taken with each other’s company. 
But then you go back to looking at intel until your eyes are burning and you excuse yourself to pass out on the couch. You do it almost half an hour to the dot before Sam gives up himself, and he’s pretty sure you know enough of his tells to know when he’s getting tired and make an early escape so he doesn’t take the couch himself. 
“You take the bed,” he’d offered the first night, having a little trouble not making it sound like an order. By how you’d raised your eyebrow, he’d failed by a mile. “God knows where you’re sleeping these days. It’s the least I can do after dragging you all the way out here.”
“You’re the one who keeps saying he’s on vacation,” you take your bags from his hands and drop them unceremoniously on the coffee table, marking the living room territory as yours. “And I’m sure the US government will kill me if I bring you back with a fucked up back.”
He almost suggested you could share. You have before, both out of necessity and leisure, but Sam’s sure that topic’s on the list of Things Not To Talk To You About. It might be the first one up there, in all caps and underlined with bright red. 
Sam has both held you down to fuck your brains out and held your bleeding body in his hands, pressing against a gunshot wound to keep blood flow to a minimum. It’s a fucked up type of intimacy he doesn’t share with anyone else, but he’s still hesitant to bring it up. Somehow both events keep happening whether he intends for them or not. 
It’s like he’s waiting for the shoe to drop, and it finally does on the fifth day of your assignment. 
You ultimately get a lead from the USB. It guides you to search for a random code you insist it’s on a file you’d read through already. You make a noise of victory under your breath when you spot it across the table and when you shift to reach for it, your breath hitches.
It’s a quiet thing Sam wouldn’t be able to acknowledge if he weren’t good at his job, but he is. 
“What is it?” he asks, suddenly alert, fingers twitching with the urge to hover over you worriedly. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” you shake your head. Whatever shadow of hesitance had fallen over you is pulled back into place, tucked away for Sam to blissfully ignore. 
You both know that shit won’t fly, but Sam thinks it’s cute you try anyway.
He stares at you and you avoid his eye long enough, face buried in the file, to know you know he’s noticed. It’s a silent request to let it pass. 
Tough fucking luck. Sam calls your name, admonishing.
“Sam,” you say right back at him in the same tone, still not looking at him. Sam grinds his teeth in annoyance, jaw tight. 
“Are you hurt?”
You shake your head. “I’m fine. You know how it is.”
It’s not a no. 
“I do know,” Sam agrees, but his mood’s a short fuse. “Are you grounded? Is that why you’re here? Because you’re hurt?”
Fucking jackpot. You exhale through your nose and tighten your jaw at the question but refuse to answer. You’re a couple of feet apart, divided by the desk filled with files and information, but somehow this is the closest he’s felt to you since you got here. 
You’d been hiding something since the beginning; taking the couch when you could’ve been sharing the bed from the start, touching him less than usual so things wouldn’t go further, and moving around the house with rigid, calculated movements.
“Manning the desk,” he says with a little too much bite, and he can physically watch your hackles rise; the annoyance in your eyes when they finally meet his, the biting of your cheek to stop yourself from rising to his sudden passive-aggressive hostility. “Handing me files, giving me intel. You’re flying halfway across the world to keep yourself out of the field.”
“Sam,” you say through gritted teeth. 
“You’re hurt,” he replies, not a question, nodding at your torso. It’s all suddenly painstakingly clear, the past week flashing through his mind like a movie from a different point of view. “And you’re hiding it from me, for some reason.”
“Is that all, Captain?” you ask, creating distance with the use of his new title in a way he despises and you know he does. You’re good at that, finding where it hurts and pressing methodically until the skin gives. Sam’s just not used to the trick being used on him. “Or is there something else about my person that you’ve figured out and have yet to enlighten me about?”
“Let me see,” he ignores you. It's easier than trying to match your level of cruel cleverness.  He stands to cross over to your side of the desk, staring down at you expectantly with arms crossed. “Come on, show me.”
“No,” you deadpan, but the way you wrap your arms carefully around yourself shows the defensiveness underneath your nonchalance. “Sam, come on, what the hell are you doing?”
“If you’re not hurt, then show me,” he insists but doesn’t reach to touch you without your permission. It’s a line he won’t cross. 
“Is that an order, sir?” you snap.
“I’m not your superior,” he replies, even though he is, technically, but not when you’re alone. Not when you’re hurt. “I’m your friend. And right now my friend is in pain, I’d like to be able to do something about it.”
“Like what?” you ask, and it’s as exhausted as it is conflictive. Thunder rumbles outside the house and inside Sam’s chest, two storms coming in. “Huh, Sam? What are you gonna do? It’s part of the damned job. Don’t tell me you’re injury-free right now.”
Sam isn’t. Both old and newer scars put a heaviness on his body he’s not supposed to carry, but he’s not the one hiding right now. 
“I can hold you,” he offers and watches the way you look away, imagining the sting in your eyes as they glisten with sudden tears. You very visibly refuse to shed them, tightening your jaw and passing saliva like it’s gravel. “If you’d let me. Let’s not pretend we haven’t done it before.”
“It’s different now.”
“Why?” he wonders, brow furrowing. He does his best to relax his stance and reaches to touch your tight fists where they lay on your lap. With his fingertips barely there on your skin, the tension bleeds out of them like magic almost against your will. “Because I’m Captain America? Because you won’t tell me where you’re stationed half the time?”
“It’s–”
“Classified,” he finishes for you, unmoved. “But you’re still you, and I’m still me. As far as I’m aware, that doesn’t change a damned thing.”
You close your eyes like the words pain you, resolve crumbling right before Sam’s eyes. “I don’t wanna fight with you.”
“Then don’t,” from Sam’s perspective, it’s as simple as that. “Let me see. Let me be with you, please. The last week has been torture.”
You let out a breath of a laugh that’s a little too miserable. “You’re telling me,” you say, and the slope of your shoulders falls from its tense, defensive curve. Sam takes it as the green light it is.   
You stand straighter as he kneels in front of you, his hands hovering over the hem of your shirt. He looks to you for permission and you give him a tight nod, staring at the wall instead of him, gulping down your anxieties.
Sam’s breath catches when he lifts your shirt and sees your torso, skin showered in black, blue, purple, and green bruises. “Jesus.”
“It’s worse than it looks,” you say automatically. Sam can’t see how that’s true. It looks like it hurts to even breathe, it’s unbelievable how you were able to hide it from him for so long. “Nothing’s broken, I swear.”
“What the hell happened?” he asks even if he knows you can’t– or won’t– answer. You sigh, and he watches blemished skin shake with the effort it takes. 
“I’m alright,” you say instead of the answer he wants, but your voice has softened and lost all fight response. It’s the most vulnerable you’ve been with him since you arrived and it has nothing to do with showing your skin. “Hey, I’m okay. That assignment’s over for good. I’m not going back there, I promise.”
The sigh of relief Sam lets out is shaky and doesn’t relinquish all the tension he’s been carrying. The possibilities of what must’ve happened are gonna haunt him long after this mission’s over. 
“I hate it,” he says, and he knows you know what he means. Not knowing where you are, spending more than half the year apart with zero contact, this unease between you that doesn’t let you be honest. 
You say, tired. “I know. Sam–”
Sam isn’t touching you– not yet. He’s careful so there’s no skin-to-skin contact, and you look at him with guarded eyes when he lowers your shirt back into place, standing up and towering over you. 
“What?”
You breathe air out of your nose, frustrated. “You know.”
A beat. “You sure?” he says, as plainly as he can with the tension that’s grown between you pulling him forward.
“Yes.”
He hums.
“Oh. You gonna let me touch you now, then?” he asks, still under the excuse of medical purposes only. But Sam can’t help the way his voice deepens, molten like honey. His eyes trail over skin that isn’t blemished: the curve of your neck, the lines of your arms, the slope of your fingers. 
You shiver under the attention, helpless to hide such a reaction to his voice. “Mmm? Honey?”
“Fuck you,” you say automatically, already opening your legs slightly for Sam to slip in between them, reaching for your jaw. You close your eyes at the touch, sighing away whatever tension remained in you. 
You’re too fucking easy, despite the fight you insisted on going through before letting yourself be touched, and something in Sam’s belly tightens at the idea of it being just for him.
Sam’s hands remain on your jaw and throat as he tilts your head up for a kiss, slow and deep, lingering. It’s not long before you open up for him, his tongue sliding into your mouth like it was always meant to be there, coaxing a whine from you while you search for steadiness and settle your hands on his belt. Not pulling, not searching for more– not yet– but keeping him close. 
The storm comes and goes and the files in the studio remain forgotten. Sam finally gets you on the bed and, better yet, with him in it. 
He’s a little too careful, hands cupping your ribs with extreme caution after finally getting rid of your shirt for good and laying you down against the sheets. You roll your eyes fondly and grab onto his wrists to direct him where you want him. 
He doesn’t complain as he takes your directions. The man will greedily take anything you give him in calloused, expert hands as he does his best to pull sounds out of you that are music to his ears. 
After it’s over, you both lay in bed, naked and breathless. You find a new scar on him and trace the ragged line of skin gently with your fingertip, touch featherlight, almost nonexistent. It’s been over half a year since you last did this, but only a couple of months since he got himself injured and stitched up by Bucky in the Brazilian jungle. “This one’s new.”
It had been a quick job, good enough considering the circumstances, which is to say Sam now has an ugly, uneven scar a couple of inches above his hipbone that saved him from bleeding out on his partner.
The memory holds no gentleness, but your fingers do. The haze of his previous orgasm leaves Sam pliant under your touch, melted against the sheets and uncaring of your scrutiny. “Barnes?”
Sam makes an affirmative noise, a valid enough question since sometimes he’s admitted to doing patchwork on himself for the sake of the mission, uncaring of how bad it hurts as long as it’s quick and efficient.
“Did it hurt?”
“Like hell,” he admits, feeling safe enough to do so in the cocoon you’ve built for yourselves. Sam runs a hand up and down your naked back as if trying to soothe the brunt of the memory. “Did the job, though. Got us out alive.”
At that, you lean to kiss the skin, only slipping a bit of tongue into it. Sam sighs, ignoring the prick of discomfort that’s trying to crawl up his spine and leaning towards the softer, more tender sentiment that takes over him whenever you get like this. It’s not easy for him to accept such gentleness, to let himself be cared for and lay there, unable to give something back.
He will, in a minute. But he knows you like him like this, and that alone pins him down in his place to let you work. It’d be hypocritical of him, he thinks as his hips twitch with renowned interest, to not let you fret after him when his own worry is what got you here in the first place.
After you’re satisfied, you trail the path Sam’s grown accustomed to, the very same you follow every time you sleep together after a terribly long amount of time: 
The knife scar under his pec from when they were chasing after Bucky, still the Winter Solider, superficial enough not to have caused concern at the time. The mark from when he got his appendix out, thinking nothing of the stabbing aches to his belly until he was doubling over in his bed and waking up half his platoon as he retched in the bathroom.
The dot on his finger where Riley accidentally stabbed him with a pencil once, sleep deprived and with two shots of whiskey on him. The wound had healed with ease but the mark made a permanent home on his skin, barely visible unless you leaned in close enough to look for it.
The scab on his knee from falling off his bike when he was six. Sarah had screeched bloody murder until their parents came out of the house to see what all the fuss was about. The scar left behind by a bullet on his right shoulder during his second tour in Afghanistan. 
The cut on his lip he got shaving for the first time is always last on your list. Sam has long stopped calling you out on it, how convenient it was that the cataloging of his scars always ended with a thorough, slow kiss to his mouth that usually bloomed into a second round. 
He found that you got skittish when he did so, pulling back into yourself and laying tensely in bed for a couple more minutes before you started looking around for your clothes, called out.
Now Sam only cups your jaw, tugs a little so it opens your mouth and he can slip in his tongue and steal a taste of your sigh. He wants you like this for as long as possible; vulnerable, unguarded, desperate to touch him and be touched back. Safe enough to know that you never have to ask for something he wants to give you so willingly. 
You always forget. The second you meet again, you have to start the whole dance over. Fish for excuses to meet each other in the middle, hoping for new scars to lengthen your time together. 
Sam isn’t a masochist by any means, and he’s not an adrenaline junkie asshat who chases the danger just to have proof on his skin that he can take all the grievances life throws at him.
But. But–
“We’re alright,” you say against his mouth, body warm and seeking on top of his. He’s mindful of your injuries but can’t help himself, the urge to touch you overrules any other instinct he owns. It makes him weak, on the field, but happy off of it. “Aren’t we? We’re gonna be alright.”
“‘Course we are, honey,” his southern charm pops out and you’re both parts equally pleased and unamused, a funny expression on your face that has him laughing as he cups the back of your neck to bring you in for another kiss. “What? What’s with the face?”
“Nothin’, pumpkin,” you imitate his accent and Sam focuses his ministrations on your jaw and neck, trying to get you to break character. “We’re gonna be just fine, sugar plum. You’re sure lookin’ very pretty tonight, peach fuzz.”
Sam splutters out a laugh. “Peach fuzz?”
“That’s what you sound like!”
“See if I ever call you something nice ever again.”
“You can’t resist me,” you say seriously, though a smile keeps trying to break your facade. “You literally lasted five days before taking me to bed. That’s on being weak, Wilson.”
“Some might say it’s a world record for me, baby,” he says, poking at your face until you show teeth, happy and at ease in his arms. “The six months before that were a little bit of a stretch, too.”
Your mood dampens a little but Sam won’t let it, nudging his nose against yours to catch your attention again. “Hey. What did I just say? We’re gonna be alright. Five days, six months, five years, it’s nothing. They mean shit when I get to see you again.”
The mention of the Snap unguards you further. He’d been gone while you tried to keep your life together, ignoring the Sam-shaped void in your surroundings. The first time you got together after he came back had been tainted by the grief of losing three of the best people you’d ever known, and he’d done his own reconnaissance of your skin as he took in new scars, new hurts that had happened and healed while he was gone.
You smile again, but it’s softer, fonder, a tender tilt of the lips for the man you managed to find in this chaotic line of work that became your whole life.
In another five days, you’ll once more be on opposite ends of the world without any idea of when you’ll see each other again or what new marks you’ll have on your skin that describe your time apart. You haven’t even put a name to this– this relationship that both of you are still too hesitant to define as such, but that’s okay. 
It’s okay. It’s more than enough. The path of scars will be there to take when you meet again, permanent proof that you’ve survived to find the way to each other over and over and over again. The map that leads to you, every goddamn time.
___
hi!!!
hope you like this one! i’ve been putting this fic on the back burner for almost a month now, but i’m so glad to finally have finished it! i hope to put out the tommy miller sequel for dial drunk next week before school starts :)
thank you for reading, liking, reblogging, commenting, etc.!
<3
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wwilsonbarness · 28 days
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when we get home
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pairings:  sam wilson x bucky barnes 
summary: Bucky opens up to Sam about his past.
warnings: mentions of sexual assault, mention of Bucky’s being held by HYDRA, flufff
word count: 1271
a/n: i’m trying to get back into writing so this isn’t written the best but I really wish we got a conversation like this in the show :( 
Feedback, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :) 
I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated on any other platform.
masterlist
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“Are we gonna talk about it?” Sam almost whispers. Not one word had been spoken between them since they arrived at Sharon's safehouse. 
Bucky doesn’t move his eyes from his hands where he was playing with his fingers. “Talk about what?” 
“You know what.” Bucky takes a deep breath, he wishes he didn’t know. He knows already that him and Sam aren’t really friends, yet something in him feels safe enough to open up to him.
Sam moves closer to Bucky, close enough that their thighs brush together. “Buck..” 
Bucky can feel his eyes grow wetter as the flashbacks of his time at Hydra flash through his mind. He turns to Sam and looks into his eyes, they’re full of trust, full of care. “I just.. I haven’t spoken about that with anyone before.” 
“Look, you don't have to talk about it.. just know that you can anytime and I’ll listen.” 
“You won’t judge me? Or look at me any different?” 
Sam shoots Bucky a slight smile. “I promise.” 
“I only remember parts.. a lot of my time with Hydra is still full of gaps, it comes back sometimes at random times but I remember..” Bucky pauses for a second and tries to think of a way to word this.
Sam puts his hand on Bucky’s thigh and squeezes slightly. Once his hand makes contact he worries he might have overstepped but Bucky leans into his touch and pushes those concerns away. 
“At first when they found me in the snow it wasn’t bad, I honestly felt relieved that I had been found, but then they told me who they were and I knew I wasn’t safe. I noticed too late, there was no way for me to escape. They locked me in a room and left me there for what felt like days. Food and water would appear in my room but I never saw anyone come in or out. I later found out that they would put gas into my room to knock me out.” Bucky feels like he is going off topic but Sam reassures him he’s okay to continue. 
“Once they’d gotten in my head with those damn words, they controlled everything I did. They would use me for their missions as you know, but it didn’t stop there. At one point, I don’t even know when but they moved me to a room and it had windows. At first I thought this was a good thing but then I realised they were only one way windows. I couldn’t see out but they could see in.”
Sam didn’t say anything but nodded, urging Bucky to continue. 
“They would take turns coming into my room, one at a time but I could hear the others on the other side of the window. They made me do different things and I’m still putting the pieces together but I remember one in particular. He would make me stand right in front of the mirror and take my clothes off.” Bucky felt Sam tense beside him and looked at him, checking if he should continue. Sam’s heart melted at Bucky, even at his most vulnerable he was checking on others. 
“It’s okay, only keep going if you want to.” 
Bucky nodded before continuing. “Once I had my clothes off, sometimes he would make me..” Bucky’s voice grew smaller and smaller as he continued, so much so, Sam could almost not hear him. “He would make me touch myself, whilst they all watched. I could hear them laughing, like they were enjoying themselves. The guy in the room, he would keep telling me what to do but he would stop right before I..” Sam gave Bucky a look of understanding, Bucky was thankful he didn't have to say it. “He would do it over and over again, never letting me finish.” Bucky cringed slightly at his wording but kept going. “Once they'd had their fun they’d just leave me there in pain.” 
Bucky suddenly felt like he had to defend himself. “And it’s not like I wanted to.. but anything would have been better than having to wait it out.” 
Sam can feel his anger rising, thinking back to earlier in the night. Zemo asking Bucky to go back into that mindset and let him touch him was uncalled for. He felt guilty for letting it happen even though deep down he knew it had to happen. Still he made a mental note to apologise to Bucky when the time was right.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to defend yourself. I can’t imagine how hard that would've been.” Bucky felt relieved at that, he almost felt silly for thinking Sam would judge him but after a second he realises probably not everyone would react this way. He really was grateful for having Sam. He made him feel safe and listened to so he kept going. 
“There was another man, he only came in a few times and he would touch me.. but…” Bucky took a deep breath and paused for only a moment. “He wouldn’t use the words. He just told me to lie down and I would do it. I just let him.” 
Sam didn’t want to interrupt Bucky but he couldn’t let him blame himself for that. “Bucky.. That wasn't your fault. Whether he used the words or not, it was against your will.”
“But I could have stopped him, If i’d just been toughe-”
“Bucky no. Please listen to me when I say this.” Sam shifts sideways slightly and grabs Bucky’s hands. He looks up into Bucky’s eyes and continued. “None of what happened to you is your fault, you had no choice in what happened.” 
Bucky can feel a tear run down his face before he can stop it. He quickly brings his hand up and wipes it away. “I’m sorry for this. I know you probably don’t want to hear about it.”
“Buck” Sam chuckles lightly. “I like to think we’re close enough now that we can vent to each other. This is gonna be pretty tough if we can’t.”
This brought a little smile to Bucky’s face. “Thank you for listening to me Sam, and thank you for not looking at me like I'm some freak.”
“You’re not a freak. You’ve been through a lot, that doesn’t make you a freak, that makes you strong. I know this was hard to look back on but I’m glad you felt safe enough to..with me. I’m here for you okay? From now on, we have each other's backs, no matter what.” 
“I’m here for you too. You can talk to me, I know I’ve been a bit of a dick in the past but I promise I got you. You can talk to me about anything, I know you’ve been through a lot too. It must be ha-” 
Before Bucky could finish speaking, the door swings open and Zemo walks in. “Gentleman.” Bucky pulls away from Sam and wipes his face once more, he absolutely does not want Zemo to crack any jokes about this. He shoots Sam an apologetic look but there's no need, Sam understood and nodded slightly to show that. “ Are you two ready to leave? We’re waiting.” 
Sam and Bucky both clear their throat before standing up. Both mumbling a response that sounds like a mixture of “Yes” and “Let’s go” 
Zemo leaves the room first and Bucky goes to follow but not before looking back at Sam and grabbing his hand. 
“When we get home.” They both smile slightly and Sam squeezes Bucky’s hand. 
Sam nods before responding “When we get home.”
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sarahrogersevans · 1 year
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Not A Monster To Me- Bucky Barnes xAvenger Reader Fan Fic
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Summary: Reader is an Avenger and working alongside Bucky and they’re friends and one night something changes their dynamic
Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of hard past, mentions of self doubt, let me know if I miss anything
(Y/N’s POV)
Since working with Bucky and the rest of the avengers team it’s been great and I’ve gotten really close with Bucky but tonight he just seems very distant and will barely say anything to me. Usually would Bucky would make a smart joke or comment on something but I’ve felt like I’ve been talking to a wall all night long, I should probably see if he’s ok I’m worried about him. We’re at a bar trying to blend in as a couple while waiting for our target to show and I sipped more of my drink and looked at Bucky and said “hey, Bucky you’ve been quiet all night are you alright?” I try to put my hand on his but he moved his hand away and said “I’m fine doll it’s nothing we need to stay focused.” I heard Sam Wilson on the comm in my ear saying “hey you two there a problem over there, you’re suppose to be keeping an eye out” I felt like Bucky was mad at me and it was starting to bother me more and I said “Bucky are you mad at me?.. I feel like you don’t even wanna be here with me.” Bucky looked at me and looked upset and said “no.. it’s not that doll I’m sorry, it looks like they’re not gonna show, let’s get out of here and we’ll talk.” He signaled me to follow him and I walked out of the bar with him and we went back to my place to talk.
(Bucky’s POV)
We got to Y/N’s place and I could tell on the way here that she didn’t say much and I could tell I upset her and I don’t mean to I just.. I worry she won’t understand what’s going on. I sat down across from Y/N and said “hey Y/N before we start I just wanna let know it’s not you ok? I love spending time with you but doll I’m.. I’m going through a hard transition at the moment, ever since I lost my best friend Steve after I came back it’s been hard and I’m just afraid of being close to you.” Y/N looked at me worried and said “why are you afraid Bucky can we talk about that? I promise I’m here for you and I would never try and replace Steve I care about you.” I shook my head and said “it’s not that doll, I’m afraid of hurting you.. I killed people Y/N I’m a monster.” I started crying and said “I hate myself for it ever since stark found out what I did..” Y/N came to sit closer to me and said “no.. don’t doll.” Y/N hugged me close and said “shh just let me, I’m not afraid of you Buck, you’re not a killer or a monster not to me, you wanna stop that, I see this big hearted soft person who cares so much and someone who wants to change and help people.” I didn’t know how to feel because I’ve never had anyone treat me this way.
I hugged Y/N and said “why I was acting so distant towards you earlier, I wasn’t trying to upset you Y/N but I realized after all the time we spent together that I loved you and I was just trying to protect you because I don’t wanna hurt you and what if I accidentally end up doing that? I would never forgive myself because I love you doll you mean so much to me and you’re so kind to me, no one has ever shown me such kindness.” Y/N smiled and said “I love you too Bucky and there’s nothing to be afraid of Bucky I love you and you’re not that person you’re you ok?” I smiled at her feeling my heart flutter, this beautiful sweet woman every time I’m around Y/N my heart skips a beat knowing she sees me for who I am and not as a killer. I cupped her face in my hands and asked her “Can I kiss you doll face?” Y/N nodded with a smile and said “yes you may sir.” I leaned in closer to kiss her sweetly and said “god I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.. I love you Y/N, thank you for not giving up on me, you’re so pretty you know that?” Y/N blushed and leaned in to kiss me and said “I’m not going anywhere Bucky I love you so much, it’s gonna be ok I promise.” God how did I ever deserve such an amazing woman? I finally felt good about myself for the first time in so long all thanks to my amazing girl.
Alright hey lovelies 😊🤍🤍 I thought the idea for this fic was a really sweet idea 🥹 hope you all enjoy xx
Taglist:
@lokiandbuckysdoll
@jessybarnes
@incorrectmarvelquotesss
@chrisevansdaughter
@sunshine-on-my-mind
@marvelstarker-mha98
@writersblog20
@delicatecoffeepeanut
@imyourbratzdoll
@vrittivsanghavi
@nana1000night
If I forget to tag anyone please let me know xx
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cevansbrat0007 · 1 year
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The TikTok Terror Series Masterlist
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Features Chris Evans, Anthony Mackie, and a bratty Reader who lives and dies by TikTok pranks. Warnings: M/F/M situations (no M/M), spanking, cursing, smut, and more. Enjoy! (**) = Smut
TikTok Terror: You find yourself falling down the TikTok rabbit hole and decide to try your hand at pranking your boyfriends. Not all of them go over well.
The TikTok Terror Strikes Back: Sequel to The TikTok Terror. After your men punish you and ban you from using TikTok, you start plotting your revenge. Some of it is sweet, some of it is hot. But all of it is satisfying. **
The TikTok Terror Rises Again:  The TikTok Terror is back with some new pranks for her poor men.
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bergarasunsolved · 8 months
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Making Magic
Summary: Y/N is an equestrian, and has been for years. Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan are her mentors and father figures. It's Y/N's first show, what could go wrong? Or in her case, what could go right?
Pairings: Sebastian Stan x teen!reader, Chris Evans x teen!reader, Anthony Mackie x teen!reader, RDJ x teen!reader, Scarlett Johansson x teen!reader, Tom Holland x teen!reader, Mark Ruffalo x teen!reader
Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, anxious thoughts, some hurt/comfort, parental issues, and tooth-rotting fluff
Word Count: Around 3.6k !
A/N: this was requested by @ladki-ki-kathi <3 kind of love this! part 2 is in the works :)
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The funny thing about horse show days is that no matter how stressful they are, anyone in the "show business" would rush to defend them the second someone starts to talk negatively. It's not that they're wrong, though; horse shows can be some of the most exciting and rewarding experiences in the equestrian world. Y/N knew this personally, being an equestrian for most of her life. Having been riding all her life, she's been to countless shows. Normally for her, days like these were not at all stressful, but today was different. It was Y/N's first show, and she was petrified.
After waking up at the crack of dawn to get the trailer ready, she finally made her way over to the stable where she took the route to Mac's stall by memory. Mac somehow seemed to know that today was a big day for them, and the minute Y/N stepped in the stall, he came over and nuzzled her. With a smile on her face, she sat down and cuddled him for a minute. Knowing the coming chaos of the day, a little more time spent bonding and trying her best to relax couldn't do any harm.
Much to Mac's dismay, she stood up five minutes later, taking a deep breath as she put his halter on. Y/N knew they had a little time to spare, so instead of leading him straight to the trailer, she led him to a tack stall. Grabbing her grooming bag, she took out her curry comb and began to brush gentle circles to rid Mac of the dirt that he somehow managed to accumulate the prior night. Y/N fell into a daze as she followed the familiar routine. She had always found it easy to let herself get lost in horses. Her relationship with her parents wasn't the best, but fortunately her father was an actor in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. This meant she had connections to almost everyone who'd ever acted in a Marvel movie. Even though her dad was absent, she was pretty thankful that she at least has this- it gave her someone to be able to look up to.Except it wasn't just someone. The whole cast, when they found out about her situation, had made it their mission to be there for her as much as they possibly could. This meant 75% of her time was spent with at least one member of the cast. It was a little overwhelming at first, but she'd grown to love it-they were genuinely the most caring people she'd ever met. She was close with all of them, but especially Sebastian Stan and Chris Evans. They took on the role of mentors and father figures in perfect stride, and Y/N couldn't be more appreciative of how easily they took on the roles.
If Y/N was honest, the only reason she was where she was right now was those two. When they found out about your pure passion for horses and realized she didn't have the resources to do it how they wanted her to be able to, the first thing Chris did was research. A lot of research. After about a week, he and Sebastian approached her asking if they could help you out. At first, Y/N said no, but they just kept asking and asking. She finally gave in, albeit reluctantly, and found out they managed to buy an old barn for her. She was absolutely flabbergasted, and kind of angry they didn't ask her first, but that settled down when she saw the place.
Seb and Chris had insisted it wasn't a big deal, and logically Y/N knew it wasn't. They had so much money they didn't even know what to do with it, and it made sense to them to buy it for her. After all, they'd both come to see Y/N as a daughter figure to them, and they loved her so much. When they saw the barn online, they were instantly charmed and knew she would be too. So they did the logical (okay, maybe not logical) thing, and bought it.
As soon as they pulled up to the place, Y/N instantly fell in love with it. It was a bit old, but it was obvious that the place could be great with a little work put into it. It was slightly tucked away in a quiet area with trees surrounding the property, which just made it more charming in her opinion. The paint was faded, and the barn itself had 5 stalls. The pasture was huge, and Y/N was so excited to see what she could do with the place.
It took the three of them (with lots of help from the whole cast) about a year to get it fixed up, but when it was done, it was the most gorgeous barn Y/N had ever seen. It had an aura that was comforting about it, and she took solace in that every chance she got. When she got Mac, her days were no longer spent making repairs on the barn, but taking care of her new horse. Mac's a gorgeous Palomino Thoroughbred, and he's about 15.4 hands. He does showjumping best in Y/N's opinion, but he's pretty awesome at dressage and eventing.
A tap on Y/N's shoulder brings her out of her thoughts, and she turns around to find Chris with a soft smile on his face.
"Hey, kiddo, how ya feelin'?" he asks kindly, looking Mac up and down as if to make sure he's still there.
"I'm alright, just lost in thought. Where's Seb?" she questions, as he's normally attached her & Chris' hip.
"He's hanging out in the truck. He's very excited to make our first pre-show Starbucks run!" Chris says with a teasing smile on his face.
Y/N rolls her eyes, having expected that. It's a well-known fact Seb's a sucker for Starbucks-he doesn't hide it very well. Knowing all of Mac's tack is in the trailer already, she puts the lead rope back on his halter and leads him to the trailer with Chris following close behind, a smile on his face the whole time.
Luckily for Y/N, Mac goes in easily. After securing the knot on his halter, she closes the doors and walks around to the front door of the truck. Climbing in between Chris and Sebastian, she grabs her seatbelt and fastens it.
"Ready for Starbucks, Y/N?" Sebastian's eyes lit up with anticipation, and he flashed a grin that revealed his teeth. He leaned in, and the corners of his mouth twitched as he asked for your answer. You returned the smile, nodding your head as fast as humanly possible.
30 minutes and a coffee run later, the trio was finally headed to the showgrounds. Y/N stole the aux as usual, playing her favorite music(to the annoyance of Chris and Sebastian of course.) The sun had just started to come up, making one of the most beautiful sunrises Y/N had ever seen in her life. The ride there was peaceful, a stark contrast to the events that were to come. The second they parked, the mood shifted from peaceful to anxious. Y/N instantly got out of the truck (climbing over poor Chris in the process) and got Mac out, walking him around and the other two prepared what they could for her.
Seb walks over to Y/N first, noticing her anxious manner as she walks Mac around the parking area.
"Hey, you okay darlin'? I know you're nervous, but pacing with Mac isn't going to help. What do you need me to do?" he questions, concern evident on his face.
"I honestly don't know. I need to go lunge him, but I'm so stressed I feel like I'll trip over my own feet. I'm so scared." she admitted in a soft tone, Sebastian's heart clenching at her words.
"Okay, how about this. I can come in the ring with you to lunge Mac,or I can go grab Chris if you want. Remember how you taught us all that stuff about horses? We've gotcha, kiddo. Let us help."
Y/N wasn't expecting tears to form in her eyes at his words, so instead of showing her face, she barreled into him for a hug while holding Mac's lead rope at her side. Seb's arms came around her, and she took a second to breathe before she pulled away.
"Okay. Can you come in with me after you go let Chris know where we'll be? I know he'll want to come watch, even though I'm not even on the horse." she smiled, and Sebastian nodded and headed off. Y/N got his lunge rope on his halter and led him into the ring, making sure they were alone so she could safely lunge him.
A few minutes after she gets him into a working trot, she sees Chris smiling from the edge of the arena, and Seb heading towards her. He cocks his head as if to ask if she needs any help, but Y/N just offers a reassuring grin and looks back at Mac. When she finally gets him into a working canter and warmed up, she pulls Chris over.
"Could you just go set up some jumps? I'm gonna lunge him over some smaller verticals.Maybe 2'3?" Y/N asks.
"Absolutely, I'll set a line up. Want me to get Sebastian to hold him while you go get changed? I know it's a little early for that, but it's kind of cold. I don't want you getting sick."
Y/N nods as she heads towards the truck, gathering her clothes in her arms as she heads into the back of the trailer to change. She decided on a long-sleeve white riding top, and a pair of her favorite sweatpants. She wanted to put off actually changing into her real riding clothes until she tacked him up.
Y/N gets back into the arena to see an absolutely adorable scene. Sebastian is holding Mac while snuggling his neck, and Chris is sitting on a jump trying to measure it. She grabs her phone out of her pocket and snaps a quick picture, heading over to help Chris out and take Mac from Seb. Bringing him to a canter, she lines him up with the line and he jumps it flawlessly. She can't help a smile from forming on her face as she lunges him over it again, confident she can raise the vertical again.
Y/N made the decision to show in the 3 foot jumpers as well as the 2'8, so she had Chris set up two verticals and an oxer. The oxer was 3'2, just in case, and the verticals were 3 feet. She spent about half an hour lunging him until she was satisfied, Chris and Sebastian watching the whole time in awe.
"Ready to tack up?" Chris asked as she walked over. She nodded and together they all headed up to the barn area, Seb checking them in while they found Mac's stall. The barn itself was deserted-it was around 9 A.M. and the show started at 11. Putting Mac in his stall, she ran to the truck and grabbed her tack box.
She'd decided on a wintergreen saddlepad, a choice much approved by Chris. Y/N hooked mac onto the crossties and began to brush him again, getting the dirt off as much as she could before she started to warm up. Putting the saddlepad on, she adjusted it a little bit and threw the saddle & girth on. A minute later the bridle was put on. Y/N lets Seb hold Mac as she ran to the barn bathroom to change again. She changed out of her sweats to her "show-worthy" breeches, and zipped her boots on. Grabbing her helmet, she walked out and met Chris and Seb by the warm-up arena. After adjusting her stirrups, Chris gave her a leg up and she situated herself.
Thankfully the arena was empty, so she sent the boys off to set up the same jumps she lunged Mac over earlier. Taking a deep breath, she came into a posting trot, doing a few laps around the arena before picking up a canter. Finding her distance, Y/N lined herself up with the jumps and sped Mac up a little bit. She soared over the first one, and had a little bit of a wonky distance for the second one. The adrenaline started kicking in as she went over the last two easily, giving Mac a little pat as she brought him down to a trot. Coming back around, she went over them again, this time trying to perfect her technique. She got lost in the sounds of Mac's hooves, allowing herself to ride the jumps almost perfectly. Going over a few more patterns and heights, Y/N finally got off and checked the time. Leading Mac back to his stall, she calculates the time in her head. She shows at 2, and it's 10:45. 3 hours to prepare. As she looks around, she slowly notices the amount of people there. Naturally for her, Y/N's brain sets off into a spiral. What if she's not good enough? What if she embarrasses herself in front of everyone? What if she falls?
Not even a minute later, Seb and Chris walk over. If Y/N didn't know any better, she'd think that they could sense her negative thoughts. They both had a feeling something was wrong with her when she started staring off into space, and that feeling was confirmed when they saw the tears in her eyes.
"Hey sweetheart. I know it seems fucking terrifying, but you know you're just as good as everyone here right? You deserve to be here, and we're so proud of you." Chris nods along as Sebastian talks, and they both pull her into a hug as she feels her anxiety start to calm down. "Now, how about we go check out your course?" He smiles, as they both take Y/N's hand and lead her to the paper. Of course she'd studied the course the nights before, but you never know. They both wanted to make sure she felt as prepared as possible, knowing how bad her nerves could get. They also knew it was amplified by the fact that it was her first show, so they were trying their hardest to help her feel comfortable.
"I wish the others could be here," she mumbled, staring at the sheet as she got lost in her thoughts again.
"I know love, but you know how Chris is. He's going to be taking a video of the whole thing." Seb smiled, turning back to Chris with an excited smile on his face.
Little did Y/N know, Anthony, Robert, Scarlett, both Toms, and Mark were going to be there to surprise you. Chris had gotten into contact with them a few days prior telling them about her first show, and managed to organize the whole thing. They were so excited.
Once Y/N was confident she had the course down, Seb and Chris set to finding as many distractions as they possibly could. They took her to the show shop, and grinned as she started in awe at all the merchandise. Her eyes kept wandering back to a grey hoodie with the show's logo on it, but she dismissed it. Chris walked off with her to the cafe, and Sebastian stayed behind to get the hoodie for her. After all, it was her first show-he wanted to indulge a little bit.
The time flew by faster than she thought it could, and soon enough, it was time for Y/N to get her number and get Mac warmed up. Chris and Seb did all that they could for her-tying the number on her belt, leading Mac to the ring, and of course feeding him a couple treats. Y/N's nerves got worse as the stands got more crowded, but the boys managed to get her distracted long enough to calm her down. As she went into the final warm-up ring, the boys ran to the gate, making sure that they could send her off when she got in line. They saw her jumping and were so excited to see her compete. Scanning the crowd, the boys saw the cast members in the front seats. They knew it would be impossible for Y/N not to see them when she came out, and got even more excited.
As soon as she got in line, they came running over. They wore the biggest smiles she'd ever seen on them, in turn making her wear an ear-splitting grin.
"Holy shit!!" Seb whisper-yelled, getting some death stares from other riders in your class. He didn't mind though-it was worth it.
"I fucking know! I'm terrified. I know the course though, and Mac is definitely ready. I'm just lucky I have the same course for my 4 o'clock class." she says, a shiver running down her spine for the poor souls who had to learn a whole now course in two hours. Chris reaches up to give Mac a pet on the neck, and Seb does the same with a smile.
"You've absolutely got this in the bag, kiddo. There are so many people out there and I'm confident you're going to beat everyone's asses." Chris says with a shit-eating grin on his face.
Y/N rolls her eyes as an involuntary smile comes across her face at Chris' words. As they move up in line, her smile only gets bigger.
"You feelin' ready?" Seb asks, for the 50th time that hour. She smiles and nods, letting the feeling of the reins in her hands and Mac's breaths
ground her.
After a few more minutes of talking, Y/N is up next. She watches the rider before her with bated breath. Said rider knocks a pole off and ends up falling, and Y/N starts freaking out again.
"Shit shit shit shit shit." she mumbles, as Chris and Sebastian stand there with their jaws clenched. They know this only made her anxiety worse; so far, no one had gotten a clear round. Chris grabs her leg and gives it a reassuring squeeze and Sebastian does the same to her hand- a reminder that they're there. The previous rider comes out of the gate looking devastated, and all three of the trio feel their hearts beat a little faster.
Y/N steps into the gate and the arena as the announcer begins her speech.
"Next up we have miss Y/N L/N! We've heard very good things about her, and cannot wait to see her ride. She's on her horse Makin' Magic, aka Mac, a gorgeous Palomino. We wish best of luck to you both! You may start your round at the buzzer."
She starts her courtesy circle, bringing Mac up into a canter around the arena. Looking out at the crowd, she sees something that makes her do a double-take; her cast is here! Her heart beats a little bit faster as the pressure she's under increases by ten, but the smiling faces of everyone, most importantly Sebastian and Chris, calm her down.
As soon as the buzzer goes off, she makes her way towards the first jump, counting her strides. She soars over it without effort, and immediately realizes she needs to speed up if she doesn't want any penalties. As she takes a deep breath, Y/N squeezes Mac with her heels. He immediately goes where she wants him, and they continue to jump rather easily. When they come to the second-to-last jump, however, Y/N starts to freak out. This is the jump two riders fell off on. Time seems to slow down as she looks for her father figure's faces in the crowd, making eye contact with them. Taking a breath, she counts her strides carefully. She eases him into the distance, keeping her eyes focused on the jump. They get there a stride too early, but Y/N puts all her faith in Mac and they manage to hop over it. She's launched out of her saddle a little bit, but what matters the most is that they got over it without knocking anything down. One jump left. Lining herself up once again, she pushes Mac to his max- getting the strides perfectly. The second they hit the ground, loud cheers break out from the crown. The most noticeable to Y/N, though, and the boys' cheers. She smiles to herself as she waves at the crowd, and can't help but full-on grin when the announcer sounds shocked.
"There you have it folks-our last rider for this class, Y/N L/N, has the first and only clear round. That was truly amazing." She says, a smile evident in her voice. Y/N trots out of the arena and straight to the cast, laughing as Chris, Anthony, and Tom Holland ran up screaming.
"Holy shit!" Chris yells.
"Holy FUCK, Y/N!!!" Anthony screams.
"Oh. My. God." Last but not least, Tom stands shell-shocked as he spits those words out.
Everyone that didn't run up screaming congratulated her, smiles on their faces. Y/N couldn't help but be excited for her next round.
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Text
Kinktober Day 22- Phone Sex
Sam Wilson x fem!reader (no use of y/n)
Word Count- 929
Warnings- smut (18+ only), masturbation, feelings, established relationship
Notes- I always tend to lean towards soft sex with Sam, but he deserves all the love!! List provided by the lovely @the-purity-pen​!
To say up to date on when I post, follow my update blog too and turn on post notifications @flightlessangelwings-updates​​. Reblogs highly appreciated!
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~
“Hello?” you answered your phone the moment it rang. Even in the middle of getting ready for bed, you were always quick to your phone whenever Sam was away. You were so worried about missing his call that you kept it glued to your side, “Sam?”
“Hey baby,” Sam’s soothing voice on the other end of the line made you drop your shoulders in relief.
You glanced over at the clock, “Isn’t it the middle of the night for you?”
Sam sighed as he ran his hand across his face, “Yeah,” his voice dropped, “But I missed you baby… I just had to hear your voice.”
“I miss you too, Sam,” you breathed into the phone as you sat down on your bed, “It’s lonely here without you,” you grabbed your pillow, “The bed feels cold when I’m by myself.”
“So I’m just a bed warmer for you?” he laughed as he joked with you.
All you could do was moan softly at the sound of his laugh, “Why else would you call me in the middle of the night, Sam?” your tone dropped.
“You got me there, baby,” Sam’s tone matched yours as he made himself comfortable on his bed, “Maybe I missed more than just your speaking voice.”
You bit your lip to stifle another moan, “So it’s that kind of call then?” you positioned your pillow between your legs as you settled onto your knees on the mattress, “So I can pretend this pillow I have here is you…”
“Fuck baby,” Sam groaned as he wrapped his hands around his cock and stroked it lazily, “In that case I can imagine it’s your hand on my cock instead of mine.”
“Oh fuck,” you moaned as you slowly rocked your hips across the pillow, “I wish I had you here with me right now, Sam,” you breathed heavily, “Wish I could make you feel good, baby.”
Sam pumped his cock faster at your words, “You already are making me feel good baby,” he groaned, “Just hearing you right now is everything I need.”
“Sam…” you breathed as you rolled your head back and rocked yourself against the pillow, desperate for more friction. 
“That’s it, baby,” he purred as he worked himself more, “Let me hear how pretty you sound for me.”
Through yours and Sam’s moans, you heard the slick sound of his cock in his hand, and it made a rush of arousal jolt through you. It drove you wild to imagine what he looked like in that moment, laid out on whatever bed he was on with his cock in his hand. Was he alone in the room, or did he risk getting caught while on his heated phone call with you? Truthfully, you weren’t sure which turned you on more.
“Sam…” you moaned his name as you rubbed yourself against the pillow harder, “Want this to be you I’m riding, not a pillow.”
“Cause I’m harder than a pillow?” he chuckled lowly into the phone. But the thought of you riding your pillow and pretending it was him drove Sam wild, and it made his cock leak with precum.
“Yes,” you let out a soft laugh.
“Let me hear you cum, baby,” Sam groaned your name, “I need to hear you cum,” he pumped himself harder and faster to the sounds of your moans.
“Oh fuck… Sam…” the sounds of the fabric rustling harmonized with your moans as you rocked against the pillow faster. You bunched up the fabric to create extra friction with the folds of the pillowcase. 
The extra bumps in the fabric along with Sam’s encouraging words was just enough to send you over the edge and with his name on your lips you fell apart. Your body trembled as waves of heat crashed through you as you imagined it was Sam below you.
“That’s it, baby,” Sam purred as his own climax quickly built as he stroked himself, “That’s my girl. You sound so beautiful, baby.”
“Sam…”
With the sound of his name in your blissed out voice, Same came hard. He groaned your name as his release splashed into his hand. His mind swam as he listened to the sound of your heavy breaths on the other end of the line as he rode out his climax on his hand and imagined it was yours instead.
“Fuck, baby,” Sam exhaled deeply once he rode out his climax.
“Sam…” you pleaded his name as you laid down onto the bed and held the pillow close, pretending it was him you held.
“I know, baby,” Sam blinked his eyes open and almost forgot that he was actually alone, “I shouldn’t be gone too much longer… Then I can make it up to you. We won’t leave our bed for days.”
You smiled brightly, “I’d like that,” you sighed dreamily, “You just make it back home to me, alright?”
“You know I always do, baby,” Sam grinned, “Promise.”
“I love you, Sam Wilson,” you almost sounded sad, but it was just because you missed him so much. You had to admit though, when the two of you started your late night dirty phone calls, it did help. But the pang of being alone after it was finished still stung. You just had to hold onto the promise that he’d be back soon.
“I love you too baby,” Sam’s feelings reflected your own, “I’ll see you soon, I promise.” Nothing would keep him from you, especially when he knew what you had in store for him when he made it back to you.
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grippingmcbucky · 1 year
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The way the Marvel men has us in such a choke hold I literally can't cope.
How dare they.
The audacity.
In other news I will willingly swallow all the cum at once goodbye
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thornsnvultures · 2 years
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earned it ♤
Sam Wilson x Fem!Reader
summary: mean!Sam taking what he deserves
warnings: SMUT (p in v), choking, light daddy kink, unprotected sex, pet name (babygirl), degradation kink
words: ~350
a/n: this is for @samwilsonsbabymama 💕 you didn't ask for this but your post about mean!Sam inspired me lol hope you like it!
a/n pt2: this is unedited stream of consciousness so if you see any errors, no you didn't :)
18+ BLOG, MINORS DNI. IF YOU INTERACT AND YOU DON’T HAVE YOUR AGE VISIBLE ON YOUR BLOG YOU WILL BE BLOCKED. 18+ BLOG, MINORS DNI.
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(straight into smut under the cut)
"Filthy lil slut. Taking this cock so well. You were made to take cock, huh princess?"
Sam's hands squeeze tighter around your hips in a punishing grip with every thrust. You can barely breathe with your face pressed into the mattress like this but you don't give a fuck. He can pound out every last breath from your lungs and you'd still say thank you.
Your hands curl in the sheets below you in an imitation of reaching out for him. Desperate to touch any inch of his sweats slick skin. But he'd never allow it.
"You wanna get pounded like a whore? Whores don't get to touch. You're gonna bend over and take Daddy's fat cock. Now."
God only knows if he's kept you on your knees like this for minutes or hours or days. You've come around his cock so many times you lost count. But Sam doesn't care. He's taking what's his. What you were so fucking desperate to give him.
And it's still not enough. You're begging for his release inside you. Begging for the cream he's been churning up just for you in his heavy sac that beats a cruel rhythm against your clit.
"You want me to fill this cunt up, babygirl? You think you deserve Daddy's load in this hot little pussy?"
He pulls you up to his chest by your throat as you scream that yes, yes you deserve it. You want it so bad you're crying for it, your tears running down your face as proof.
"That's it," his hips stutter in eagerness when he sees those pretty little tears. He growls low in your ear and pounds harder. His other hand falls from your hip to work two fingers furiously over your clit. Giving you all he's got and then some as he pumps his hot load deep, coating your walls as you fall with him, the feeling of his release pushing you over the edge one last time.
He lays both of you down, curling his arms around you in a tight embrace.
"Did such a good job, babygirl. My perfect little girl."
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