Warnings: angst!, a tiny bit of violence, swear words, alcohol
Summary: Being Bucky’s best friend (after Steve of course) gets a lot of perks - but being in love with him WHILE being his best friend means that your adoration must be kept a secret. That also means you have to silently endure every single encounter with women he has whether he tells you or you see it for yourself.
A/N: So this one shot is based on the Amy Shark song “Adore You” (she speaks to me on so many levels!) and I just really wanted a Bucky fic for it because he’d be absolutely clueless to someone adoring him like this…I also kind of skipped over the “oh look at him I’m in love with him” fluffy stuff and I just focused on the couple of days leading up to the point reader can’t take it anymore. I like the angst - it fuels me *evil laugh*
Y/F/I = Your First Initial
I’m just gonna stand with my bag hanging off my left arm
I’m just gonna walk home kicking stones at parked cars
But I had a great night ‘cause you kept rubbing against my arm
I’m just gonna stand with my bag hanging off my left arm
You hugged Wanda and Nat, giving small waves to the boys, before turning to Bucky.
“Hey B, I’m going to head back to the tower. The mission took a bigger toll on me than I thought.” You made a show of rubbing your neck, hoping the sadness in your eyes would be mistaken for exhaustion.
Bucky turned away from the young, curvy brunette tucked under his arm, his smile fading as his eyes scanned over you with concern. He didn’t move away from her, nor did you move any closer, instead you gripped the strap of your bag hard, until your knuckles were white, in an effort to ignore the pain radiating through your chest.
“Are you sure? Did you want me to come with you?”
You gave serious thought to saying yes, knowing he’d probably give the woman a kiss and get her phone number before following you out of the bar, talking your ear off about how she was this and that. All the while, you would be fighting the anger and nausea bubbling up your throat, fighting back the urge to scream at him to shut up about her and every other woman, just fighting to keep your face neutral as you listened to the love of your life pine after any and every other woman but you.
In which Harry is a poetic frat boy who just so happens to be the TA for your new English class.
Author’s note: This is gonna be a multi-part fic!! I’m really excited for it and would love any and all feedback. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing. Xo
You aren’t a newbie, but your frazzled appearance might portray you that way.
Autumn air nips at your cheeks as you rush around the corner and continue along the edge of the sidewalk. Your feet carry you around other students who aren’t as pressed for time. They give you amused side-glances as you hustle into the entrance of the closest brick building.
This was supposed to be your semester, the one where you get to class early and rewrite your notes by hand and get straight As. But one-too-many snoozed alarms later and your first day of classes has become your worst nightmare.
You take the stairs two at a time, and are rushing through the doorway to the second floor when you slam full force into a particularly solid shoulder. You’re knocked off balance and a flurry of papers careen through the air to scatter the floor around you.
Requested. Piano sex. Not sure how I feel about this, might delete it again.
Word count: 2,605
One Last Time (Smut)
You were pulled out of your blurry sleep, when the
small yet beautiful tones from the piano in the living room rung in your ears.
Pushing yourself up with your elbows, you gazed over at your phone on the
He was home again. It wasn’t that you expected Shawn
to be lying next to you, honestly, you didn’t think he’d come back tonight.
A/N: an anon requested a poly!hamilsquad x reader soulmate au and i had no idea how to do it so it’s been in my inbox for like a month. im so sorry i took so long ;-; i never posted this late (or early before so enjoy!)
“Y/N, for crying out loud, aren’t you the tiniest bit curious as to who it might be? I mean, come on, you have an incomplete triangle on your wrist!” Angelica said, trying to pull up your sleeve. You swatted her hand away, pushing it back down. She always pestered you about the mark on your wrist. Since she does not have one of her own, she tells you that she lives vicariously through you.
There were only a handful of people in the world that had markings on their skin. It was what scientists called soulmate links, people you were meant to be with. Unfortunately for you, and this was your opinion, you hated being one of the few to have it. You didn’t believe in people “meant to be together”, and would rather just find someone that you loved for who they are, not what your skin says.
And the mark on your wrist was so small, it could just be a birthmark.
~Sometimes you need to flip the tables on your man…~
Sam x Reader
Warnings: NSFW. PWP. Sub!(ish) Sam Smut! (he’s tied up) Just dirty, dirty smut.
A/N: This is a drunken tag-team effort between myself and my buddy Jess @wi-deangirl77. We were chatting and this happened. Hope you enjoy ;)
He was just a little too long for the motel bed, but you made it work. With his legs and arms spread wide, he fit just fine. His navy striped tie held his wrists high above and the cuffs you’d lifted from Dean’s duffel had his ankles bound to the foot board. Thank God for old fashioned beds…
Although he knew he couldn’t move, he still tried. His muscles bulging and twisting, and the light sheen of sweat that began to cover his body just added to that Greek God look.
He wasn’t one to submit, ever… but it had been a long day and you’d whispered promises every chance you got. He was more than ready to see what you could do. Ready to let you take control; ready to submit and let you play out your fantasy.
Help me with this scenario I have in my head. You wake up and feel shawn's boner. What does he do/happens
were brutally woken up, when you suddenly felt Shawn’s heavy weight on you,
pressing you further into the matress. It took you a second or two to open your
eyes, but when you did, Shawn’s lusting, dark once met you immediately.
breathed heavily, before licking his pink lips, not removing his stare from
you. You didn’t know why, but suddenly, you felt your cheeks heat up.
love” he breathed, his voice sounded so dark.
Your strangled voice rips through your throat, strong fingers digs harder on the sides of your hip; tearing the flesh and bruising the skin to bring your closer to his body. Sam holds you in place and torturously rotates his hips when the patch of soft curls brushes across the crease of your ass.
“Shhhh,” he warns, going still for a second as footsteps approach and move away. You nod, biting your lips to avoid whimpering.
With both hands Sam guides your movements. Dragging his swollen length out of your tight, aching channel just to jab right back in and your eyes see meet the back of your skull. “Ffffffuuckk!” you cry out.
“Could you be any louder?” he pants in your ear. One of his hands travels up your body to clasp around your neck. “We’re not even suppose to be here, remember…”
“Of course I can,” you joke but your chuckles are cut off by his grasp getting tighter.
“Always so funny, little one.” he whispers in your ear and stops moving.
“What can I say… Oooh.” He drives into you again.
You try to look at him but all you can see from your angle is his sweat soaked hair and his forehead as his grip holds your face straight. He urges your head back almost painfully and his mouth is on yours, tongue roaming aggressively around your mouth before his lips suck on your tongue.
“Nothing, you say nothing!” His strong but heavy thrusts have you pressed against the back of the supply closet door.
“Nothing,” you moan with a smirk, your eyes still on his.
“Always some clever comeback.” Sam lets you lift your head, relieving the tension from your neck. “Guess Imma have to fuck that wittiness outta you, little one” His other hand wraps around your waist, pulling you away from the door, forcing you to hold your own weight with just the tip of your toes.
Your hands hook on his venous forearms. His fingers tighten on your neck and his hips buck merciless. “You gonna shut the fuck up now and come. The only thing I wanna hear is the sound of my sack hitting your ass! ”
He’s so fucked out but he still wants more. His voice is gone from yelling, screaming, begging and so he rolls onto his stomach on the ruined sheets. He arches his ass up into the air and reaches back with one hand to pull his cheeks apart and show his puffy, pink, used hole.
And he waits. He hears the water in the bathroom shut off and the door swing open across the carpet. He hears one footstep and a deep inhale of breath followed by the thud of a wet towel hitting the floor. He smiles into the sticky sheets and arches his back even deeper.
He feels a hand on each of his ankles and his legs are spread. His knuckles go white as he tries to keep his hole exposed to the greedy eyes he can feel on his naked skin.
Suddenly, a deep, satisfied voice in his ear and the heat of a heavy body pressed into his back. “You’re insatiable, Dean. I fuckin love it.”
Summary: You like to take late night walks to de-stress, you meeet a stranger named Bucky who does the same.
Prompt(s): Okay I’m combining two: pandarosita: 93 and 94… but Reader being upset rather than Bucky? and an anon request for 64.
93.“I’m telling you. I’m haunted.” 94. “I had a bad dream again.” Bonus: 64 “Here, take my blanket.”
Warnings: angsty reader
Word Count: 3093
Author’s Note: Ah fuck. I sort of hate this but I just need to post it to get it out of my head, so here you go. Enjoy the angst. I’ll post part 2 tonight when I get to my next hotel.
Side note, please do not interpret this as me advising taking careless late night walks. Be safe, know your surroundings if you must.
You’d always been a night owl, preferring the quiet dark when everyone was asleep over the busy days in too small a home with too many people. You liked the calm stillness that fell at night when everything finally just… stopped.
There’s been a prompt in my inbox for quite some time, imploring me to write a bit of romance. Thing is, I’ve never even attempted romance. Not even once. But hell, it’s a chance to try something new. And I tried for you, anon. I tried my damnedest. So here goes.
(And many thanks to the immensely talented @edierone for her insight and suggestions!)
Summary: “And how exactly would you romance me, then? You know. Just so I don’t mix you up with any more shapeshifters.”
Summary: Chris Evans x Reader where he finds an excuse to see you at your dad’s auto body shop. Word count: 1194 Warnings: fluff, light smut A/N: dedicated to My Valentine Vic™ - @pleasecallmecaptain - for being absolutely perfect. I love you, Vic!