sam wilson with a bratty girlfriend that was put on this earth to stress him out…..and he wouldn’t change it for the world. he knows no matter what happens,you and your attitude will forever be his problem. he loves how you flit around on his arm,curl up on his lap and ask for a foot massage after a long day of lounging around in his tshirt and watching reality tv,loves the petty arguments you decide to start in the morning as a form of foreplay just so he can rail you on the kitchen table as soon as he gets home.
the words rushed out of his mouth before he could stop himself.
"iloveyou-"
you stared back at him, irises locking with his. there was a crinkle around his eye, and a furrow at his eyebrow. his fingers were nervously tapping against the table. he was scared. scared of what you'd say. scared of being rejected.
you smiled apologetically up at him.
"i'm sorry, baby."
his eyes creased in confusion and regret, highlighting the ridges of his tired face. "what?"
the waitress arrived with a glass of water, interrupting him. but as he turned back to ask what you meant, he found himself staring at an empty chair.
Dad!Stucky & Teen!Reader
Your Dads' try to get to the bottom of your recent bad mood
[A/N] No time to write a whole new fic today, I was at work for most of yesterday and then I wanted to enjoy my day off so I got the train to a nearby town for a little mooch 🥰 This was an old one from my drafts that I finished today, hopefully you guys enjoy it! 😘
Steve hears the door open and looks up from his paperwork “Hey kiddo! You’re home earlier than-” His voice trails off as you stomp past the kitchen, going upstairs and slamming the door shut behind you.
He turns his attention back to the work in front of him, trying his best not to mind. Going up after you right now would be a waste of time - best to give you a chance to cool off first. He and his partner Bucky had adopted you when you were little and they loved you more than anything in the world. You’d always been a relatively easy, happy-go-lucky kid but they’d noticed a change in you ever since you’d started High School. Steve was worried about you whilst Bucky was happier to roll with the punches “Teenagers are moody. That’s part of the package deal,” He’d said. “It’s not like they’re out getting up to the mischief we were getting up to at their age.”
That was part of the problem though. In middle school you’d had a good group of friends that you spent most weekends with. Lately though your social life seemed to have fizzled out. There was one kid that you seemed to spend some time with but your old group had seemingly gone off the radar.
Steve had been pleased when you’d told him and Bucky that morning that you’d be home later than usual because you were going to try out for the school musical. Acting had interested you right from when you very little and you used to put on plays for your Dads’ in the living room. When you got a little older they’d bought you a video camera and you’d spent an entire summer making movies with your friends, much to their amusement. It was good to know that through all those teenage hormones you were still you.
Yet you were home a lot earlier than Steve had been expecting and clearly upset about something. He’s not sure what to do. Steve prided himself in his ‘Dad talks’, the way he could usually find common ground with you and you could both resolve any issues you had together. Bucky was the ‘fun parent’ whilst Steve was the ‘default parent’, the one you came to when you were worried about something or needed a question answering. Bucky teased him about it a lot but Steve secretly loved being the dependable one, the one that his kid could count on in an emergency.
Now you were a teenager, he felt way out of his depth. Most of your co-operation was gone, replaced with eye rolls, sarcastic comments and heavy sighs. You’re still a generally well-behaved kid and Steve knows it could be worse but he still feels nostalgic for the days when he could suggest a family outing that wasn’t met with over dramatics as if he were suggesting a day of torture.
Bucky comes into the kitchen, raising his eye-brows “Something tells me the school musical didn’t go well.”
“I’m going to find out what’s wrong,” Steve says, standing up. He’s given you ten minutes, more than long enough in his opinion.
“I’ll come too. You’re gonna need back up.”
They both head up to your room and Steve knocks gently on the door. When you don’t answer he opens the door, finding you sat on your bed, hunched over your phone. Steve hates that thing. Him and Bucky had held off for a long time but towards the end of Middle School you’d insisted that you absolutely needed a phone. Steve knew that was true, you were the only one of your friends to not have one so they’d caved and given you one for your birthday. Now you were always scrolling through it, always plugging your headphones in and messaging someone. It drove Steve mental when he spoke to you only to realise you hadn’t heard a word.
“Hey kid,” Steve says gently. “Everything okay?”
You don’t reply and the two of them step into your bedroom. Bucky folds his arms “You came home pretty early.”
“I’m not doing the musical.”
Your voice is dull and defeated, gone is the enthusiasm you had this morning. Steve sits down next to you, trying to look at your phone screen but you quickly turn it away. He puts his hand on your shoulder “Did something happen?”
“No, I just- I don’t want to do it.”
Bucky rolls his eyes “Sure. You don’t want to do it. You were looking forward to it only this morning. So what happened between now and then that made you change your mind?”
You don’t say anything and Steve sighs “Which musical did they pick?”
Steve’s alarmed to find your eyes water at that question. That morning you’d been buzzing with excitement, looking forward to finding out which musical they’d picked and suggesting your favourite ones. It had been a flash of the old you and Steve had been thrilled. Now you look dejected and he wants to know what happened.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Clearly it does,” Steve says quietly. “Was it one you don’t like?” He finds that hard to believe given there aren’t many musicals you dislike but you nod. “Which was it?”
You swallow hard, looking down at your phone again and Bucky sighs heavily “Kid, we can’t help you if you don’t tell us what-”
“It was ‘Rogers: The Musical’. Okay? And everyone was staring at me and the drama teacher was making eyes in my direction clearly expecting me to audition to play Papa and it was so embarrassing, I-” You cut yourself off, a tear escaping down your cheek that you quickly swipe away.
Steve and Bucky exchange a glance before Steve looks back at you, squeezing your shoulder “That must’ve been difficult. Does that happen a lot? People talking about us and then looking at you?”
“Every day. Everyone knows and they make fun of me all the time.” Now that you’ve started talking you’re finding it difficult to stop. “They’re always playing your PSA’s in class and everyone looks at me and then they make fun of me afterwards and it’s so… It’s so embarrassing.”
Steve feels himself cringe as he remembers the PSA’s he’d agreed to record. At the time it had seemed like a good idea but he can see now why it might be causing you a problem. He looks down at the bed “I’ll call the school. Tell them not to do that stupid musical-”
“It’s not just the musical!” You burst.
Bucky sits down on your other side “Out with it kid. Tell us what’s been going on.”
You run a hand through your hair, clearly torn before handing your phone over to Bucky. When he unlocks it he finds that you’re part of a group chat that has been completely tearing Steve apart – sending you cruel memes, videos and calling you names. Just because you’re Steve’s kid. Bucky feels a stab of anger and he pockets your phone, glancing at Steve. Not wanting to tell him but realising he’s not going to have much choice. In the meantime, he’s keeping hold of your phone. You don’t need to be subjected to this crap on top of everything else.
Before Steve can ask what Bucky found on your phone you burst out again, your eyes watering all over again as you sniffle “It’s every single day. They never leave me alone about it. And now I hate being your kid.”
Steve feels his stomach twist with guilt at your frustration and how hard you’ve been having it. He’s known for a while that whilst he’s popular with younger kids and with adults, he’s never really been a hit with the teenagers. Most of them have seen his PSA’s and have a cynical attitude towards him. It had never crossed his mind that people would take it out on you though.
“I’m sorry kiddo,” Steve says, squeezing your shoulder.
The way he looks at you, not at all mad about what you’d said, only understanding and patient makes you burst into tears. Steve doesn’t waste any time, pulling you into his lap and rubbing his hand up and down your back “I don’t hate being your kid, not really,” You sob. “I just- Everyone looks at me all the time. My History teacher is always asking for my opinion in class. He even has a signed picture of you on display-”
“Jesus,” Bucky says, rubbing his forehead with his metal hand. “Does he have a picture of me up?” You shake your head and Bucky rolls his eyes “Figures.”
“Bucky,” Steve says, giving him a firm look before kissing the top of your head.
“I’m sorry Papa, I didn’t mean to say that-”
“It’s okay,” Steve reassures you, leaning his head against yours. “I’ll be honest kiddo; I don’t know how to solve all of this at once. But it’s not fair that you can’t take part in the school musical because of the one that they picked and that is something I can rectify. It was really thoughtless of them to pick that particular musical and make you feel excluded. We’ll get them to pick something else.”
None of you had watched that stupid musical. Steve had been invited to the premier but hadn’t gone, having thought it was a bad idea from the beginning. He’d heard from Clint that it was incredibly cheesy and had been glad he’d stayed away. It hadn’t occurred to him that a High School would attempt the performance, let alone his own kid’s High School.
“We need to have a word with the school about this group chat as well,” Bucky says. “Who added you to it?”
“I don’t know. Every time I leave the group they add me back; it’s different people every time.” You lean your head on Steve’s shoulder, feeling a weight off your shoulders now that they know and they’re not mad at you for feeling this way. “I dread going to school now.”
“I’ll ask if they can stop with the stupid PSA’s, there’s surely no need,” Steve says. “You deserve to go to school and just be you, not ‘Captain America’s kid’. We’ll solve this one step at a time kid, I promise.”
You let out a sigh of relief, feeling even lighter still. Steve always keeps his promises and if he says they’re going to fix this then you know they will. You still feel guilty for saying you hate being Steve’s kid but he presses another kiss to the top of your head and you feel a little better knowing that he’s not mad at you. That he understands. Of course you don’t hate being his kid. Right now, you feel like the luckiest kid in the world to have such understanding parents’. You know that if you had the choice, you’d always choose to be their kid. Even if the other kids do make fun of you.
Can we normalize not posting memes in fic tags? 😭 I’m looking for something about Sam Wilson WHY AM I BEING BOMBARDED WITH MEMES ABOUT EVERYTHING ELSE BUT THE FICS 😭
So last month I got hit by a car and died right. Which I didn't initially realize until I watched some guy haul my body into his pickup and drive off. Which, being that it's deep in rural Michigan, I assume means my body will make some venison jerky and maybe some wall decoration, and I'll be resigned to being one of hundreds of deer ghosts floating around Saginaw, which is w/e. But then I find out the guy works at a taxidermy shop or something, and he's actually pretty good at stuffing and mounting deer carcasses, which I come to find out when I find myself face to face with my old body in the shop window. So naturally, I figure since ghosts need to possess something to interact with the living world and etc etc etc the most logical thing to do is to possess my own body, since it's basically a statue of myself. And a little surprisingly, it actually fits like a glove. Like, since it's my body, it feels like stepping right back into place. So I get out of town and back to my herd, eventually. And that's where the trouble starts coming into it, because after I get settled again, I don't know how to explain to everyone else what feels so weird. Like since I can move my body and do everything I used to do, it's functionally the same, like nothing happened. Or it SHOULD be, so I don't know how to explain how it's NOT. But it's just hard to explain it to someone who's never been hit by a truck I guess
Bucky Barnes Would Hates Rough, Degrading, Mean Sex
Listen, as much as I live for the Bucky post with degradation, slut calling, choking etc— he doesn’t do that. I will in fact be ranting about why he doesn’t— in my personal opinion. Think whatever you’d like.
ꫂ᭪ | Reasons
Bucky Barnes is a victim of sexual assault, it is implied several times.
2. He has a metal arm that he was brain washed into choking people out with for years. That last thing he wants to do is touch his liver with the arm that has killed thousands… he’s not gonna find that sexy at all. That man would be scared, might even have flashbacks and triggers from the moans, the grunts… and god forbid they cry.
3. Secondly, James Buchanan Barnes hasn’t had sex in years… the man would probably want to ease back into it. Slow, vanilla, intimate— because… he was brain washed in the forties, bro is not into hook up culture.
PS: this was my TED talk, I will forever defend slow, vanilla sex loving Bucky— and I will forever defend him wanting to take it slow. Also, I’m not re-reading this for errors.
Unpopular opinion, but Bucky would not call you "doll."
The petname is cute and all, but I firmly believe Bucky, especially Bucky now, would not call you "doll." 40's Bucky, maybe, but post Winter Soldier Bucky? Not a chance.
No, no, current Bucky, he'd pull out rare, but sweet and gentle petnames. He would normally call you by your name, or a different version of it that only you allow him to call you- but no, never "doll."
Not "doll," but you could be ranting about an interest of yours, maybe you slowed your talking, thinking no one was really listening. And Bucky would tap your cheek just once, mumbling, "and what else, sweetheart?"
Not "doll," but you could call his name, just to get his attention for something you may need help with- or even just asking him a question. And Bucky will immediately respond with, "yes, my love?"
Not "doll," but he'll occasionally replace your name with "baby" just to get your immediate attention. Sometimes you zone out, and even your own name falls deaf upon your ears, no matter who may be calling your name. But when you hear the soft, yet gruff, "hey, baby?" he knows he has your attention.
Bucky wont call you "doll," it feels foreign on his tongue. He cycled through many different petnames, trying to figure out which felt best out of his mouth, and figuring out which ones he felt suited your face.
But, by far, the one Bucky rarely ever calls you, but his absolute favorite, because it just fits you so well in his mind. Its one he only really uses when he knows you need a verbal reassurance, one he only uses when he knows you've had a rough day, one he knows you melt upon hearing. You'll hear something like; "You okay, Angel?"
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