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askstevella · 2 months

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—This Day Aria / 💍💒👰‍♀️🤵

The man huffed and puffed punching a wall after wall so hard some completely collapsed, grunting loudly then gasped seeing the bitch who fucked up his best friend wedding. His so called bride! He tackled her onto the ground, causing both of to go tumbling and hitting a wall.

“Bucky stop!”

His fist was curled hovering over her as his chest began to tighten sending daggers her way. His face looked straight at her brown eyes, scared face, bruised body and knotted hair. He thought it was a trick and yelled, “Why should I?”

She gulps tiredly, “Because I know you..your mother was named Winifred but everyone called her Winnie, you’re a night owl and your favorite music is 40s Jazz, the classic kind.”

“True again. Anyone could know that, Steve must’ve told you about that.”

“You have a secret crush on Sam. You won’t admit it but you care about him dearly, you only ever told me that information.”

That caused the man who shake his head and uncurl his fist sighing as he repeatedly apologized for what he done. Stella smiled softly and tiredly rubbed her face explaining what happened, how she ended up here in the first place.

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

~~~💍~~~💍~~~

The bride to be grinned staring at the mirror in her long blushing white gown, tied up curls already pulled back into a high positioned bun and makeup done just right. She turned around and hummed walking around the room and then turned over her shoulder.

“This day is going to be perfect. The kind of day of which I've dreamed since I was small.” She said in a singing voice smirking as she walked around grabbing the face of the mannequin.

“Everybody will gather 'round. Say I look lovely in my gown.” She continued and yelled, “What they don't know is that I have fooled them all!”

~~💍~~~

The two were racing looking for a way out, Bucky helping Stella stand up in support despite them being surrounded by rock and dust from the caves. He gave her a soft smile, repeatedly apologizing and wondering how he is gonna explain to his best friend he tackled his bride to the ground.

He shrugged muttering, “Ah he’ll be fine.”

“This day was going to be perfect. The kind of day of which I've dreamed since I was small.” She hummed looking at him with tears in her eyes, “ But instead of having cake. With all my friends to celebrate.”

 He sighed keeping the soft smile as he’s hearing her sing the words, “My wedding bells, they may not ring for me at all..”

~~~~💍✨~~~

“I could care less about the dress. I won't partake in any cake! Vows, well I'll be lying when I say.” She sing smirking with pride, pushing the female mannequin out her way, staring straight up at the one of the groom, “That through any kind of weather. I'll want us to be together.”

 Her smirk only grew as she cupped the face of the mannequin that was shaped like a groom as she continued, “The truth is I don't care for him at all! No, I do not love the groom. In my heart there is no room! But I still want him to be all mine!”

~~💍🎵~~~

Bucky and Stella raced for their lives, using their strength and endurance to make a big impact into the walls of the cave.”

“We must escape before it's too late. Find a way to save the day! Hope, I'll be lying if I say..” Stella sings running and climbing up the rocks, following Bucky in between the narrow halls.

 She glanced at him, “I don't fear that I may lose him. To one who wants to use him.” She grabbed his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her secure position as they jumped and landed on steady ground as she hummed, “Not care for, love and cherish him each day!” 

Bucky smirked finding an old abandoned cart down the mines into the river that will allow them to probably. The two of them pushed as Stella smiled at her friend and promptly sang, “For I oh so love the groom. All my thoughts he does consume.”  

He returned the smiled helping her into the cart, launching himself inside as the pair rolled down the tracks into the river. As they did, Bucky swiftly turned around and sang, “Oh, Steve! We’ll be there very soon!”

~~💍✨🎵~~

The wedding marches were held high and mighty. The crowd gathered around dressed in plenty of glamour outfits, bridesmaids were wearing their best all designed by Liane and Amelia. The Avengers, The Young Avengers, Fantastic 4, X-Men and many others surrounded the place in glorious colors.

Steve was standing there smiling having recently seen nursing a headache with Nat and Sam beside him. A few faces looked indifferent while others were more than pleased with the outcome of the event.

The doors opened as the bride sung proudly, “Finally, the moment has arrived! For me to be one lucky bride!”

She dressed trailing behind her in glory, her headdress perfectly matched and the whole thing was all set in motion. With help from Leo and Cassie, she stood above the steps looking at the groom who’s eyes were more blue than before, with a hint of green in the middle being mind controlled to look like a mild headache. His blonde hair was swept back and his tux was fitted to match the theme of the wedding.

~~💍🎵✨~~

They were almost there as Stella looked at the broken clock with tears filling her eyes. She gasped as she sing, “Oh, the wedding we won't make! He'll end up marrying a fake!” 

Bucky sing the continued line rubbing her shoulder and huff, “Steve will be...” 

~~🎵💍✨~~~

 “Mine, all mine.” Sang the bride, her eyes flashed a deep green for a second before returning back to normal brown.

——————

Soo tell me what do you think? 💒 hehe I was listening to the song and decided why not.

Did you guess who the other Stella is? 💍😏

Tags: @missstrawbs2001 @purpleprincessonfyre @meiramel @gcthvile @rickb-chaos @gaminggirlsstuff @wizzzardofoz @cherrysft @thechoooooosenone @luna-d-marsh @rooster-84 @sherloquestea and etc

#mlp #this day aria #favorite songs #song lyrics #stevella #ask the super spouses #askstevella #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers #stella #mcu x oc #anne hathaway #liane felton #sam wilson #bucky fanfic #sambucky #the avengers #fantastic four #x men

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tickle-bugs · 2 years

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Itchin’ For Your Smile

Summary: Bucky has some...creative methods to deal with hard-to-reach itches. Sam inherits his curse. Domestic, romantic WinterFalcon. They’re dating but they don’t know it yet.

Watching Bucky is by far Sam’s favorite activity. It’s like people watching, but one person, and the person in question never ceases to be utterly fascinating. Even now, when he’s slumped over the kitchen table like a sack of potatoes, unmoving and half-asleep, Sam likes to watch his little mannerisms. Bucky hides in his arms from the sun but snuggles into the warmth of it. When the glare off his arm starts to annoy him, he makes a grumbly, defeated noise and sinks deeper into the table.

This is the same man that could catch a knife in mid-air and return it to the sender with just as much force. Same guy.

“Coffee or juice?”

“Juice is fine.” Bucky sighs, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. His dog tags bounce rhythmically against his bare chest, catching the morning light and scattering it across the room. His hair sticks up in all directions, sorta like a hedgehog, and Sam has to duck to hide his smile.

“You look like you slept well.” Sam turns the eggs over once more, for luck, and pushes them onto two plates. He scrapes the extra cheese onto Bucky’s plate. He likes when it crisps in the pan.

“I did.” Bucky stretches, voice straining with his muscles. He’d finally started sleeping--and on the couch, no less. The first few days of staying with the Wilsons were utterly restless. Sam had to pretend he didn’t hear the back door creaking when Bucky came in, drenched in sweat not entirely from the exercise, drinking from the tap like a man who’d been lost in the desert.

“Good.” Sam turns his attention to the bacon--nearly done, but not quite crispy enough. A bit of grease pops on his hand and he curses softly, running his hand under the faucet.

A strange scraping noise, dull and slightly muffled, grabs Sam’s attention and he spares a peek in Bucky’s direction.

Bucky’s dragging his back against a corner in the living room, scraping the sharp point of the wall from shoulder to shoulder. Every once and a while he does a little shimmy and rubs his spine against the drywall.

Sam knows how much effort and trust it takes for Bucky to even sleep in the house, let alone feel comfortable enough to do whatever Yogi Bear nonsense he was doing at the moment, but he has to say something. He has to. A super soldier—Bucky specifically, the king of severity—is scratching his back like a forest creature...in his living room. A better setup would never come again.

The image of Bucky’s haunted face flickers across Sam’s mind. If Steve was wrong about you, then he was wrong about me.

Hm. Not worth it.

In a herculean effort, Sam bites his tongue, pointedly fixing his attention on serving breakfast without another burn. The bacon pops threateningly at him a few times and he stabs it with the fork, beating back the mighty beast.

Bucky crowds into his space back-first without a word. Sam stares. Bucky shuffles a little.

“Can I...help you?” Sam chokes back a laugh.

“Scratch.” Bucky clears his throat. Asking without asking.

“Big bad supersoldier can’t reach his back?” Sam grins.

“Forget it.” Bucky goes to leave but Sam pulls him back by the bicep. He does a gingerly test-scratch near Bucky’s lower back and he visibly softens. Bucky’s walls recede and he opens up slowly, like a flower.

“Where…?”

“Middle.” Bucky shimmies again. Sam scratches his fingers upwards, tripping along the knobs of his spine like a ladder.

A breathy “holy shit” drips from Bucky’s lips. Sam never expected to see a supersoldier’s knees go weak during this lifetime, but he commits the sight to memory. Bucky leans back against Sam’s chest a little. Sam works around him.

“Good?” Sam hopes his voice doesn’t come out too strangled. Bucky’s warm where their bodies meet. His fingers navigate delicate scars with grace and care. He drinks in the dizzying privilege of this domesticity and holds it tight. His fingertips buzz as they roam.

“Great.” Bucky’s voice trembles on a sigh. There’s getting an itch, then there’s satisfying an itch. If the full body shiver that Bucky does is any indication, Sam’s damn good at his job. He’s supporting Bucky’s full weight while he indulges him.

“Don’t fall asleep on me, now. You’ve still got a whole shed to paint.” Sam chuckles softly, giving Bucky��s shoulders a fond squeeze.

“Hm?” Bucky’s voice actually does sound a little lax and rough with sleep. “Oh, yeah. I’ll do it.”

Sam feels like the worst person in the world. He sets aside their breakfast with reckless abandon, slamming every knob on the stove until he can ensure there’s no fire, and then he slides back into Bucky’s space.

“Get back here.” Sam goes back to gently scritching at Bucky’s back, hoping the feeling is enough to keep him from asking questions.

“‘Kay.” Bucky hums and stays right where he is, content to bask. Sam’s fingers roam a little too close to Bucky’s side. He jumps, breath hitching. A lazy smile takes over Sam’s face. This is too good.

“Ticklish, Barnes?” Sam wraps his arms around Bucky’s waist and rests his head on his shoulder.

“No.” Bucky tenses minutely. Sam grins. He reminds him of the rabbits that dart around the house in the mornings, like he’ll become invisible if he stops moving. Cute.

“Okay.” Sam pats his hands against Bucky’s stomach and lets go, chewing furiously on his lower lip to not give himself away. Bucky’s still tense, not-so-discreetly watching Sam over his shoulder. Sam starts to fiddle with the stove, not really doing anything, and waits…

“Come eat.” Sam tilts his head towards the pan. Bucky huffs softly and slides past him, reaching up for the plates in the cabinet. Sam slips behind him and burrows his fingers into Bucky’s stomach.

“I-I am gonna kill yohohou.” Bucky’s laugh is a shooting star jostled free from between his ribs. His hands immediately fly to circle Sam’s wrists and he squirms like there’s no tomorrow. Sam plants his feet so they both don’t topple over.

“Well, then I definitely can’t stop.” Sam’s fingers trip lower, grazing Bucky’s hips. He yelps and looses an incoherent string of noises before he doubles over in Sam’s arms, laughing so frantically that his body trembles with it. Bending over just pushes Sam’s fingers in deeper, really, so he takes advantage and gives the bones a test squeeze.

Bucky’s head crunches back into Sam’s nose. He stumbles back into the kitchen counter and his vision blurs for a second.

“Shit,” Sam laughs, pinching the bridge of his nose. A slight dribble of blood starts gathering in his hand and he fumbles for the paper towels with his free one. Bucky’s hand brushes his as he helps grab some—way too many, Sarah’s gonna kill them both. He hovers and stares intently, gripping handfuls of napkins like he’s gonna clean up a semi-truck-sized spill.

“M’fine, Buck. Suffered far worse for stupider things.” Sam sniffs and dabs at his nose with a napkin from Bucky’s stash. It throbs dully, but he’s lucky it’s not broken. Probably. He’s had worse.

“Can’t think of anything stupider than trying to tickle a super soldier.” Bucky huffs a laugh, light and easy. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans his hip against the counter.

“Huh. I can’t think of anything better.” Sam grins. He throws away the napkins and washes his hands, watching as Bucky turns rosy pink.

Goosing Bucky’s side as he walks by is well worth the revenge of getting tickled within an inch of his life, pinned underneath the man whose orbit keeps him steady. They’re both immature children, but they’re safe. They’re home.

…

Sam finds himself suffering The Itch just two days later. No matter how he contorts, he can’t reach, and his shoulder’s starting to scream with that ‘dislocation risk imminent’ type of burn. He’s starting to understand the appeal of using walls for backscratchers. This shit’s excruciating.

“Buck!” Sam groans loudly into the couch.

“What?” Bucky bristles, nearly sloshing his tea onto the hardwood. He slams his copy of The Two Towers shut around his thumb. He’s become one with the leather armchair.

“C’mere.” Sam flaps his arm in his general direction.

“Why?” Bucky narrows his eyes.

“Just get over here.” Sam waves him over frantically. When Bucky sits down his tea and steps cautiously into reach—it takes literal years—Sam snags his wrist and slaps Bucky’s hand bodily onto his back.

“Scratch. Right there.”

“Seriously?” Bucky chuckles at him.

“Do it.” Sam wiggles insistently.

“You’re ridiculous.” Sam can hear Bucky’s eye roll but he doesn’t care. He’s a desperate man. Blunt nails scritch at the center of his spine and Sam melts into the couch. He lets out a shivering little breath and clutches a throw pillow for dear life.

“Up, up—okay now left—yeah, that’s it,” Sam sighs. The silence from Bucky is suspiciously fond.

“I hear you laughing at me,” Sam mumbles into the couch. If his bones hadn’t turned to jelly he’d lift his head to glare, but Bucky’s slowly taking him apart at the seams. He’s sand free of the hourglass. He’ll have to be surgically removed from these cushions.

“Me? I would never.” Bucky’s other hand touches down near Sam’s shoulder. His fingers pass over Sam’s shoulderblade and he yelps, rolling over quicker than he ever could in the air. He raises his hands in preemptive surrender.

“Bucky.”

“Sam,” he grins. His eyes glitter with a manic sort of playfulness.

“Bucky.”

“Sam.” They stare at each other for a long, tense moment.

Sam throws himself over the back of the couch, knowing the bruises will be well worth it if it means he’ll escape. A cold grip clamps around his ankle and pulls him backwards into two strong, foreboding arms. He manages to spin around and face Bucky, but then there are traitorous hands tickling up his spine and he can’t do much else.

“Your back? Really?” Bucky muses. Sam starts to slide down under him to get away. Oh, this is so stupid. He thought he’d outgrew this.

“Y-You’re one to talk!” Sam’s voice crackles around his laughter and he writhes. Bucky finds a spot on the back of his ribs and Sam jumps. Bucky makes a thoughtful sound, the bastard, and keeps his fingers wiggling steady there until Sam’s throwing his head back

The crossed wires in Sam’s brain spark and he pulls Bucky down into a kiss before he can think better of it. They both freeze and pull apart. Bucky hovers in his space, his dog tags dangling between them. He doesn’t look at Sam as much as he looks into him. His gaze flits to Sam’s mouth and he darts in to pull them back together.

Sam’s knee slides up and his hand sits heavy on the back of Bucky’s neck. His thumb swipes at the short buzz of hair there and he slides his fingers fully into the scalp. Bucky makes a quiet noise into his mouth and tilts into it, licking gently at his bottom lip. He’s solid and sweet as his hands roam down Sam’s chest.

Bucky pulls back first, but he doesn’t pull away. He cradles Sam like a heroine in a romance novel, which is fucking ridiculous but not unwelcome. He looks down at Sam with glittering awe and a well of fondness. A gentle hum resonates in his chest and passes through both of them.

“What?” Sam huffs. He feels dizzy. Bubbly. There’s an addictive buzz beneath his skin that he wants to chase. Bucky smirks. Sam resists the urge to kiss him again.

“Nothin’. Just can’t believe you thought that would work.” Bucky shoves his hands under Sam’s arms and he flails. Fucking traitor. Sam cackles and writhes under every twitch of his fingers. He honest-to-god snorts at one point, curling in on himself. Bucky laughs.

“Don’t--”

“Oh, I will.” Bucky’s eyelids lower and he presses back in, searching for the sound again. Sam slams his head back. He’s vicious, gentle, and precise, and Sam might be losing his mind a little. If not now, definitely for future him who’s never gonna win another argument in his life. If there’s anything Bucky has besides jokes, it’s audacity.

Bucky leans forward, a teasing grin dancing on his lips, and tickles just so at Sam’s top rib. Sam flinches forward so hard that the room spins.

Crunch.

Sam pulls back with a gasp as his laughter dies, sudden and startled. Bucky holds a hand underneath his nose but he’s grinning. Blood drips onto his fingers and he tries to catch it. Sam’s soul leaves his body. He pushes a chuckling Bucky into the kitchen.

“Sam, I’m fine--”

“Sit. Shut up.” Bucky does as he’s told, but not without a token eye roll. Sam pulls out way too many paper towels and shoves them in his hands. Bucky giggles, a bright and delirious sound. Sam wants to capture it in a jar and let it light his life like a firefly.

“Eye for an eye, nose for a nose. We, uh. We match.” Bucky squints at him with a ghost of a smile. His voice is kind of nasally. Sam snorts.

“You’re ridiculous.” He puts a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles bandaid over the red line starting to form on the bridge of Bucky’s nose.

“You love me.” Bucky rolls his eyes and sniffs. He balls up the paper towels and throws them at the trashcan. When he makes it--of course he does--he gives Sam a cheeky grin.

“Yeah, I do.” Sam shakes his head and lets his smile run wide. Bucky’s gaze turns soft and mottled with surprise, like he’s slowly melting into the emotions rolling over him. His eyes drop to Sam’s lips, then flick back up through his lashes. His mouth falls open slightly.

He leans forward dangerously on the stool, gripping it to keep his balance, and presses his lips to Sam’s oh-so-gently. He falls forward onto his feet and manages to keep the stool from falling without breaking the kiss. Warm hands raise to tenderly cup Sam’s jaw. Their bodies fit together beautifully.

“Hi,” Sam breathes, watching Bucky’s eyes flutter open. He’s starting to freckle from the constant touch of the Louisiana sun. Sam brushes a thumb over his cheek.

“You love me,” Bucky repeats again, slowly, and his eyes frantically take in every aspect of Sam’s face. It’s the same tone he uses to reassure himself of the world around him. As if Sam and all his love might disappear. Like there’d be anywhere worth going without him.

“Don’t let it go to your head. Your ego’s big enough as it is.” Sam lightly swats his chest. Bucky catches his hand and presses it to his chest, right over his dog tags. Bucky’s pulse flutters under Sam’s palm. His grin is small and bashful, threatening to bloom fully.

Sam could cry, really. Tender is the word turning over and over in his brain, fresh and warm like a blanket out the dryer.

“You’re a sap.” Sam wiggles his fingers and Bucky chuckles with a flash of teeth. Oh, the cities he’d burn to protect the sanctity of that smile.

“You lo—“ Bucky gets a cocky little look to him. Sam kisses him before he can finish.

#my fics #bug’s greatest hits #fatws #marvel #winterfalcon #sambucky #ticklish!sam wilson #ticklish!bucky barnes #sam wilson #bucky barnes #these two make me absolutely insane #domestic sambucky is my favorite just. they're healing. they're making breakfast. augh.

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