I post mostly for Supernatural, Marvel, Hannibal and 00Q
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
If you like my fics, consider submitting your prompts here on Tumblr in my dms/asks, or in the comments on any of my works. Can't promise I'll write them but I'll let you know if I do!
I take requests for Supernatural, Marvel (any universe), NBC Hannibal and 00Q. I'll list my main ships below, but I'm open to writing others.
oh blorbo from my shows? haha yeah man i love that guy. i hope something terrible happens to him in front of his loved ones that he barely survives and i get to watch.
mymusician... oughh my little bug [remembers parasocial relationships are bad] [remembers infantilization is bad] this complete stranger is their own huge bug
for whatever reason tumblr has flagged this post from a deleted blog as explicit so I can't even reblog it anymore which is a shame because it's one of my absolute favorites
No but Pornstar!Sam constantly fucking with Pornstar!Bucky about when there gonna have another threesome lol. Like he calls Bucky on a random ass Thursday like
Sam: whatâs your plans for this weekend?
Bucky: no clue đ€·đ»ââïž you?
Sam: damn I was hoping I could do yâall this weekend? You know I love that thing she did with her ââ
Bucky: Donât start Sam!
Sam Wilson had a talent for ruining Bucky Barnesâ perfectly quiet Thursdays.
It was always the same damn script. Bucky would be halfway through a protein shake and some mindless scrollingâmaybe catching up on whatever old war documentary Netflix was pushing this weekâwhen his phone would buzz. Heâd glance at the screen, already knowing who it was, and mutter a low âFuckinâ hellâ before answering.
âWilson.â
Samâs voice came through bright and smug, like heâd been waiting all day for this exact moment. âWhatâs your plans for this weekend, Buck?â
Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose. âNo clue. You?â
âDamn,â Sam drawled, stretching the word out like warm taffy. âI was hoping I could do yâall this weekend.â
Buckyâs eyes narrowed at the ceiling. He could hear the grin in Samâs voice, that cocky, shit-eating grin that sold millions of subscriptions on its own. âDonât start, Sam.â
âIâm just saying,â Sam continued, completely ignoring the warning. âYou know I love that thing she does with her tongue when sheâs got both of us in her mouth at the same time. The little swirl thing? Jesus Christ. I dream about that swirl, man. I woke up hard as a rock at 3 a.m. last night thinking about it. Had to jerk off twice just to get back to sleep.â
Buckyâs grip tightened on the phone. Heat crawled up the back of his neck, equal parts irritation and something a lot less innocent. âYouâre a menace.â
âIâm a professional,â Sam corrected cheerfully. âA professional who knows chemistry when he sees it. And the three of us? Baby, thatâs not just chemistry. Thatâs a goddamn fireworks show. Remember last time? When she came so hard she cried and you looked at me like you wanted to kill me and thank me at the same time? I still watch that clip when I need a pick-me-up. Top-tier content. Five stars. Would recommend to all my friends.â
Bucky dropped his head back against the couch cushion, staring at the fan spinning lazy circles overhead. âWeâve got schedules. Sheâs got that solo shoot on Saturday. Iâve got the new scene with Sharon on Sunday. Itâs not that easy to line up.â
âBullshit,â Sam laughed. âI checked the shared calendar. Youâre both free Saturday night after eight. I already cleared my evening. Told my manager I was taking a personal wellness day. Which I am. My wellness involves your girl riding my face while you fuck her from behind. Thatâs self-care, Buck. Look it up.â
Buckyâs jaw flexed.
The mental image hit him like a freight trainâyour thighs trembling around Samâs ears, that wrecked little whimper you always made when you were getting close, Buckyâs metal hand fisted in your hair while he told you how good you were taking them both. He shifted on the couch, already half-hard just from the memory.
âYouâre really gonna keep calling me every week until I say yes, arenât you?â he asked, voice rough.
âEvery week,â Sam confirmed happily. âEvery day if I have to. Iâll start sending you voice memos of me moaning her name if that helps. Iâve got a whole folder. Labeled âFor Buckyâs Stubborn Ass.ââ
âAnd I know you want it too. I saw the way you looked at her last time we wrappedâeyes all soft, like you were two seconds from proposing instead of pulling out. Youâre whipped, Barnes. And Iâm not even mad about it. I just want in on the next round before you two decide to go full domestic and start filming couple content only.â
The worst part? Sam wasnât wrong.
The three of you had been dancing around this for months.
What started as a one-off collab for the studio had turned into something electricâon camera and off.
Sam brought the filthy charm and the stamina that made you scream.
Bucky brought the intensity, the quiet dominance that left bruises in the shape of his fingerprints on your hips.
And you⊠you were the center of it all, the spark that turned their rivalry into something filthy and perfect.
But Bucky was the cautious one. The one who overthought every schedule clash, every possible rumor that could leak, every way this could blow up in their faces. Sam was the chaos agent who just wanted to feel good and make you feel better.
âSaturday,â Bucky said finally, the word dragged out like it cost him something. âAfter eight. But if she says sheâs tired, we cancel. No pressure.â
Samâs victory whoop was so loud Bucky had to pull the phone away from his ear. âThatâs my guy! Tell her Iâm bringing the good lubeâthe one with the little sparkles she likes. And maybe some strawberries. I wanna feed her one while sheâs got my dick down her throat. Multi-tasking, baby.â
âYouâre gonna get us all fired,â Bucky muttered, but there was a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth now.
âNah,â Sam said, warm and sure. âWeâre gonna get a raise. The numbers on our last threesome vid are still climbing. Fans are thirsty for round two. And between you and me? Iâm thirstier than all of them combined.â
Bucky exhaled a laugh that sounded dangerously close to surrender. âYouâre buying dinner first. Real dinner. Not that protein-shake bullshit you call a meal.â
âSteakhouse on me,â Sam promised immediately. âThen dessert back at my place. Or your place. Or a hotel. Hell, Iâll rent the damn studio if she wants the big lights and the fancy bed again. I donât care. I just want my hands on both of you.â
There was a beat of silence, charged and comfortable all at once.
âSam?â Bucky said quietly.
âYeah?â
âDonât tell her I caved so fast. Make her think I put up more of a fight.â
Samâs laugh was low and fond. âYour secretâs safe with me, old man. See you Saturday. Try not to jerk off too much before thenâI want you desperate.â
The line went dead before Bucky could curse him out.
He tossed the phone onto the cushion beside him and dragged a hand down his face, cheeks warm, cock half-hard in his sweats, and a stupid, helpless grin he couldnât wipe off.
Saturday couldnât come fast enough.
And if Sam kept calling every Thursday after this? Well⊠Bucky would keep answering. Every single time.
Because some kinds of trouble were worth it. Especially when the trouble came packaged with Sam Wilsonâs filthy mouth, your pretty moans, and the kind of weekend that left all three of you sore, satisfied, and already planning the next one.
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