ashychangeling

[ashychangeling]

I realized I forgot to reblog this. I really like this series. I love that Bucky realizes he has to be nicer. Is Bucky the large wolf in the castle and that was following reader in the woods? Does he not remember when he shifts into a wolf, because he acts like he hasn't seen her before now? You don't have to answer that if that will give stuff away, but I really like this series.

Trying To Save Me, Part 3

Summary: you make a deal with the white wolf

Pairings: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Rating: mature

Warnings:  explicit language, crude language, crude sexual talk, bit of a mention of a breeding kink, teasing, a bit of a chase kink, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 4.5K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*Moodboard created by @theinheriteddutchess *dividers created by @firefly-graphics

Bucky’s crystalline eyes peer out into the early morning frost. White and ice. The only thing he has ever seen outside his window. He was promised so many things, and while some of those promises are just right outside his door, he feels further away than he’s ever been.

His chest rises and falls peacefully despite the irritation that courses through his blood, and he tries to keep it controlled. Control is something he’s been lacking. You just make him feel so feral. You breathe the possibility of a normal world without snow, and still you refuse him. Denying your fate, and the prophecy itself. But also him. It’s infuriating.

An arm lays over his body, and it takes everything inside Bucky to not recoil in anger. They were all wrong. Sex without feeling pleasure really isn’t even worth it. They meant nothing to him, apart from the need to quench his unsatiated desire, but they never do. Their scents were disgusting, cloying even. And this one in particular is becoming the bane of his existence.

Her hand roams further down his body, traveling so low that she grips the base of his soft cock. A deep rumble erupts out his mouth, and she doesn’t get the warning. Her lips start kissing over his naked back, although it’s more eating him with her open mouth, and disgusting saliva dampening his flesh. His breathing comes out in low growls. He wants her gone. Wants her hands off him.

She moans at the feeling of his heated skin. Not realizing the heat is emanating his anger. She annoyingly whines out, “Your highness,” before pulling him towards her, so he lays on his back, and her leg swings over his body. “Fuck me,” they always desire more the next morning, and he rarely gives in to them. He’s tired and has received nothing from her. “Come on, baby, fuck me.”

“No,” he answers simply, but she grinds down viciously, continuing her pleas. Bucky allows her another few rolls of her hips before an animalistic noise barks out, and he snaps his teeth. The woman scurries off his body, pulling her tattered clothes around her. “You may leave.”

Stunned, she looks at him oddly. He hates this kind of woman. “Go!” He shouts, throwing a blanket at her. “Get out!” Gathering up the blanket, she wraps it around her body before fleeing his chambers. Meeting Steve on the way out.

“I thought I told you to leave?” Bucky says with no emotion.

“You didn’t,” Bucky peeks his eyes open, and looks at his friend blankly. “Your princess is getting more irritable, and cold in her cage. I think it’s time to cover your body, and tend to her.”

“She won’t let me,” not in the way that he wanted to tend to you. You didn’t even want him anywhere near your body, much less allow him to show you some kindness. A stubborn mule.

Steve goes to the king’s closet before tossing a few things at him, “I didn’t say fuck her. I said tend to her. Do you honestly think a girl who has lived alone, survived alone, and was taught to fear us, and you particularly you, is going to get on her knees and beg you to fuck a baby in her?”

Bucky’s brow cocks up as he stretches in the bed. He throws two legs over the bed, and reaches towards his clothes, “It’d be much easier if she did.”

“And then she wouldn’t be who the prophecy talked about, now would she?” Bucky supposes Steve is right. Doesn’t mean he wished he could easily fulfill their destiny, and his undying need to breed. It was nothing but what his body yearned to do, find its mate. So he was told that is what his unique urges meant. Maybe everyone was wrong.

“A woman like that will need time,” time that really wasn’t available. The kingdom is growing weaker from hunger.

“Do you think we have the time?” He asks, pointing towards his windows.

“I don’t think we really have a choice,” Bucky’s gaze goes blurry. Staring at absolutely nothing, but letting the words set in. He is the sole person responsible for changing the world. Well, with your help. “I don’t think taking the time to get acquainted with her, and to give her time is a bad thing. You could do with a bit more humanity.”

Bucky snorts, stretching his aching bones again. Winter is bitter in so many ways. “Might I suggest the sacred garden?”

“No,” it’s premature to take you there. To give you a taste of what could be outside. You hadn’t earned that place yet. “She can go outside, and look at what was the garden,” Steve only shrugs as he opens the door. And Bucky walks to it, getting an eye full of you glaring up at him through furrowed brows.

“You appear cold, Lumi,” what you appear is irritated that some whore came out of his bedroom again. “Although the cold does make your nipples look especially delicious,” Bucky gets a knock in the back of his head from Steve, “I apologize for my outburst. Steve, go fetch Wanda, so she can get dressed.”

You didn’t want or need her to help you again. You are fully capable of getting yourself dressed. Unless it’s yet another layer upon layer of skirts. Lacing up a corset would pose some difficulties as well. Okay, maybe for this type of dressing you did need someone.

Bucky leans up against the opposite side of the hall, his cold eyes never stopping their assessment of you. “Do you have to stare at me like you’re going to be quizzed about my anatomy?”

“Does it make you uncomfortable?”

“It’s fucking weird,” Bucky groans, but doesn’t stop looking at you. You’ve never had someone study you quite as hard as he is. He looks positively enthralled with you just sitting there, doing absolutely nothing but staring right back at him.

Wanda comes to you, her hands filled with skirts, and silks. Clearing her throat, Bucky at least turns around, giving you the tiniest bit of privacy, even though you’re in a hallway. Without speaking, you just allow Wanda to assist you in every aspect of getting dressed. Gone would be the pants, and ability to flee quickly. And even in this fortress of a castle, you didn’t have enough wits about you to get out of the winding maze.

A deep growl grows from Bucky’s chest, and you glance up to him. His face is reddened, and teeth baring, “Turn. The. Other. Way,” he grits, and you look over your shoulder to see a man retreating down the hallway.

“Wanda,” Bucky turns towards her as she pulls the silk dress over your head. Bending down, she straightens everything up before she stands upright to look at Bucky. “Have Steve bring the cage into my bedroom. I won’t have people coming up and viewing their future queen in such an intimate way.”

While you’re thankful, you want to roll your eyes. Wasn’t it him that had you on all fours, looking at your cunt while his court was in the same room? Maybe they were different. Wanda places the necklace that is actually Bucky’s leash for you over your neck before curtsying and leaving you and Bucky alone.

He surprises you by holding up a hand for you to take, and greedily, you accept. For as cold as you always are, Bucky’s hands are more like a crackling fire. Everything about him is warm. Except his cold eyes and demeanor. His body, and movements radiate heat. And while he’s alone with you, even his attitude isn’t quite so cold.

“You’re not the only one thrust into this prophecy, you know?” A decades old prophecy that had cursed your father, and family. And cursed Bucky. What a stupid curse to affect the entire kingdoms. Kingdom. Seeing how there’s only one now. “I didn’t want to marry you either.”

You scoff, looking over towards him, “I mean,” he stutters. Did you actually make him rethink his approach? “Imagine being told your whole life you were to marry someone you didn’t know. Imagine having this madness consume you as you searched the snow for one person. Wildlings are a bit more adept in the winter than most of us here. My people have become spoiled and lazy on how to protect themselves, relying only on the castle, and our army.”

“You’re using ‘they’ as if you’re not doing the same thing,” he huffs out of a laugh, and you wish he would tell you more. There’s more to Bucky than you initially thought. But his hot and cold behavior are more than you can stand. “What do you know about the life outside of these walls?”

“You’d be surprised. A king doesn’t just sit on his throne, while everyone else around him gets worked to the bones. No, I like to dive in and just be as big a part of something as my soldiers. Sometimes more,” you highly doubt that. You even doubted that Bucky went outside the castle city. He stayed inside the walls for protection. None of the wildlings were particularly fond of the king and his court. Not that they ever could control the wildlings. It’s a cruel and harsh world out there. Most just leave them to their devices.

“You doubt me. I’ve been further past the castle walls than most would believe. I’ve always had this ability to look completely different if I will it. Nobody ever wonders if it’s me,” it isn’t quite difficult to accomplish that. If he dressed in different clothes than his finery, then he would blend in with the crowd. “What was it like to live out there?”

“You live in constant fear,” Bucky’s gaze turns towards the front, ignoring you beside him. “Especially once my tribe was killed off. Malik was murdered, and I think I know why now. My mother — she died of pneumonia. Jarrod was the last to die, or maybe he lived. He fell through some ice, so I’m assuming He perished. Everyone else it was different things. We were nomads, so we were more vulnerable in ways.”

“Why were you nomads?”

He looks back towards you, and your mouth quirks up, “We were trying to avoid you,” you chuckle, realizing how stupid you had been. If you were always going to end up in his clutches, why run? Why allow yourself to waste away out there, becoming more weak. In here, you could fight back. “Seems pointless now.”

“Maybe that’s the way it was intended,” he swings open the door to a smaller more intimate dining area, waiting for you to enter first. He’s such a strange and difficult man. He’d almost be likable if it wasn’t his quick need to go completely feral with sexual comments.

You retreat into your mind as you think about the alternatives, weighing out the pros and cons of being here. With him. Who would you be if you decided to let destiny control your life? Could you kill Bucky? Would that end this stupid prophecy? Allow him to live long enough for winter to be over, and then kill him. That doesn’t sound like the worst idea. Not by a long shot.

“We should get some food in you. You need to gain weight,” for him to see if gaining weight would round you out enough for your first cycle. You’re not blind in his thinking. But if the food here is as good as it was the other night, it would be worth it.

You take a peek towards the king as he guides you through the icy gardens. It is unsettling. Frozen statues, and fountains. The trees are more of a shell than a living thing. Everything has a sharpness to it. Pointed lines where they should be soft and curved, instead now they had icicles growing off of them. Giving them a nearly demonic appearance.

Bucky walks quietly with you. His breathing constantly changes as he starts to say something to you, but then changes his mind. He’s been a bit strange since breakfast. Normally he never shuts up with his disgusting tongue, and now he can’t come up with the words to say.

“How did you remain chaste?” That didn’t last long. He seriously is a pig. “Especially when you were alone.”

“Do you think it was easy to not find company in a man?” His brows turn into hard lines as he stares at a frozen fountain. “You men are all the same. You can’t think straight when there’s warm flesh around you.”

“It sure beats the cold,” he mumbles more to himself, but you hear. You hear everything. “So you’ve never once thought about inviting some man into your tent with you?” You laugh, starting to walk away from him. He would open his mouth and ruin the somewhat nice morning.

“What’s so funny?”

“Sex has blinded you, Your Highness. You don’t think women are worth anything more than laying on their back, and taking your seed. Waiting for them to become round and full of you. Can you not look out here and see why that is the worst thing that you could possibly do? Why would I bring a child into this chaos of winter? Why would I allow myself the vulnerability to submit to some man.”

“You’d enjoy it,” you scoff, turning a corner, right into a frozen hedge maze. Sex could not be all that great, not when you had the consequences of raising a child in this cold hel. Bucky stays right on your heels. He breathes in deeply, and if you were a crazy person, you’d assume he was scenting you like a wild dog would. “Oh, you’d enjoy being on your knees as I fuck into your warmth. Your toes curling right as I hit that spot deep inside you that makes your eyes go cross, and your fingers can’t grab onto anything to steady you enough.”

“Just sex, hmm?” You’d heard that there is so much more than the physical activity of a man entering inside of you. You’d heard of men that feasted between a woman’s legs, while she goes outside of her body from blinding pleasure.

He snarls as he walks in front of you, sniffing up your body before you spin around and go down a different way in the maze. “What’s got you so riled up?” He spits out, but doesn’t follow you.

“Excuse me?” You ask, stopping to look over your shoulder. “What do you mean riled up?”

“I mean that your heart is speeding up,” you place a hand on your heart before you angrily walk faster. “That vein on your neck is pulsing just as quickly as the throb between your legs,” he didn’t know shit. He knew nothing about you.

“Oh, I see, you want romance. You don’t want to be the only one to submit. You want me down on my knees while I drink your essence. Have my tongue driving into your tight little hole before sucking on that pretty little clit,” you turn right, practically running to get away from him. “Would it be so bad to see me feasting on you like a starving wolf, while my eyes stare up at you like a helpless lamb?”

You wish he would shut up. He is clouding your brain and judgment, and you can’t think with his voice ringing in your ear. Turn left. Starting to pick up speed to get away from him, “I wouldn’t run if I were you.”

“Fuck you,” you flee. You run as fast as you can in these stupid skirts. Why were there so many layers? Why are you here alone? He could take you right here, right now, in this maze and nobody would be any the wiser. Left.

You peek over your shoulder, and see no one. Picking up your speed when you take another right. Running deeper and deeper into the center of the maze, and further from any exit or entrance. You need to be back in the castle. Back where there could be an audience, and they might stop Bucky. Away from him alone.

He’s wrong. “I’m not wrong, Lumi!” Fuck him. That was just luck. He had no idea what thoughts you had. You stop in the center of the maze, in a big round opening as you spin around. There are too many options on which way to go. It hurts your head to think about. Taking one step forward, Bucky lands in front of you like a wild man.

You cower backwards before ultimately falling on your ass. You hate him and his ability to humiliate you. “What are you doing?”

“You were going the wrong way,” you open your mouth to speak before he covers it. “If you say, ‘fuck you,’ again to me, I just might. Don’t tempt me. You’re a complete, and utter mess,” he lends you a hand, but you refuse it, and stand up on your own.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he circles around your body, his crystal eyes dark pools of lust. He bares his teeth as he sniffs you again.

“I can smell your pussy from here,” Bucky looks down at your body with the most devilish grin. “Don’t act like you don’t want me to rut into you like a dog. You’re quivering, slick, and swollen, and just so curious about what my cock will feel like in your cunt.”

“What would you know?” You ask him as he continues to circle around your body. A wolf playing with his food before he attacks. It’s haunting, and you try not to think about just how terrified you are.

“I know that you can try to deny who you’re destined to be. But you will fail. And you will let me mount you like the bitch in heat you are,” you glare at him, letting him walk around you again before he stands right in front of you. His stature towering over you.

“You’re disgusting,” you whisper, but his grin gets even more menacing.

“Yeah? Then what does that make you?” You didn’t fully understand what he meant by that comment. “I bet if I just settled my hand over you cunt, I could feel how hot you are. Aren’t you curious to know why your pussy is fluttering so much?”

Yeah, but you weren’t going to tell him that. “It’s who you were meant to be. Mine. Yeah, you’re making me completely feral with your refusal to mate with me. I’m going crazy here, smelling you, and feeling the vibrations off your pussy. You’re destined to be mine, and even your body knows that. It knows how amazing it will feel to have me buried so deep into you, there’s nothing that will separate us.”

He sniffs again, smiling when he looks down. You don’t know how he knows, or what it is he’s doing, but it hurts. There’s an ache so deep in your core that you squish your thighs together. Bouncing back and forth on your feet, and it offers you a little comfort. “What’s wrong princess? Is your body aching for friction?”

“Your words!” You scream, pushing at his chest, but he grabs your wrists, and pulls your body flush with his. “I hate you!” He settles your hand over his heart, and he’s just as hot and calm as ever. The beat steady, low, and barely there. He must be inhuman.

“Yes, while you’re heart is racing out of your chest, mine is soft. Are you jealous?” No. You’re infuriated that he has a hold of you. He flattens a hand on your chest, shushing you when he feels just how fast it is beating.

“I hate you,” you repeat. You hate him so much. You’re forced to be at his side for all eternity? Fuck that.

“I know you do, but I can offer you something that no one else ever has.”

“A cock? Several men have offered, and one even got his cut off,” Bucky’s maniacal chuckle echoes out into the icy garden before he bends his knee, and yanks you over his thigh. Hands on your hips he starts moving you over his leg, and you annoyingly sigh.

“Relief,” he’s such a cocky asshole, but this isn’t too bad. It’s quite nice, and you know you’re making yourself a fool in front of him, but this is the most relaxed you have ever felt. It’s the best you’ve ever felt as warmth builds up from the inside out. “Doesn’t that feel nice, Lumi?”

“Unfortunately,” he growls before he buries his face into your neck. His lips are so warm despite the frigid air outside. He softly kisses up your neck before nibbling right below your ear, and you whimper when he pierces the skin slightly. You claw at his arms to drive you harder over his extended leg. While it feels good, surely it could feel better.

“Now, imagine yourself sitting on my knee, facing me while I pinch those pretty little nipples of yours. Urging you to go harder and faster on my knee, while you make such a filthy mess of my leg. You’re such a desperate thing, in need of more pleasure than this. Your pent up energy has weakened you, and you don’t realize it it. Don’t you want that, princess? Don’t you want to feel this good all the time?”

“Uh huh,” idiot! Why did you whine and say that? You are stronger than the primal feeling burrowing into your gut, well, more like your pussy at this point. You have always fought this urge, and now you’re a blubbering idiot that can’t contain your pleasure. Chocolate is better than this. Okay, maybe not. But this is cruel. Sex is a basic instinct, and he’s using it against you.

“You’ll look so pretty swollen with my pups,” an odd name to call children. “Together we can end this dreadful winter.”

You have a duty to the world. You could end winter. You alone, well, and Bucky could end the suffering. Are you ready to relent? To give in to him? Him of all people? The world is spinning, and if this feels good, what would laying down with him feel like?

“Only if…” you begin, trying to catch your breath. Your voice is wrecked, and you can’t think clearly. You are not the whining girl that lays down with a man for protection. You have a duty. This man is ruining you, and your new clothes. “Ultimatum.”

He stops his movement, pushing you off his leg, and straightens himself up. You’re thankful a tiny bit about the halt, but you also whimper because you want to feel more. Cursing yourself for wanting to continue the movement.

“I’m listening,” he arrogantly says. You straighten out your skirts before standing up straight, and looking into his darkened eyes.

“No more whores,” he nods his head once. He’d been waiting on you to ask that of him, and he will gladly oblige. “We go at my pace, not yours.”

“You go very slow,” Bucky tsks. Time is of the essence. The world is blanketed in a blizzard, and you wanted to be romanced.

“We go at my pace!” It isn’t a yell, but you raise your voice enough. “And you make me fall for you.”

“Marriage isn’t about love, Lumi,” it could be. But maybe you didn’t possess the power to fall for him either.

Backwards thinking of the royals. “Is it purely about pleasure then?”

“It’s about expanding your family legacy. Not to mention ending this snow globe we’re in.”

“Fine. If you can’t make me fall for you, then you need to make me tolerate you enough. I won’t be disrespected by you. I won’t be just a slab of meat for you to fuck. I will be your equal. If both of us end this terrible winter, then I’m just as important as you are, and I’ll be treated as such,” he snarls, but nods his head. “And you can quit being so fucking cruel.”

“Is it cruel of me to give you some relief?” He thought he was being kind to you. You needed it. You need more.

“Cruel is showing my pussy off to your court. I don’t want that,” he smirks. You might have been slightly humiliated, but you also liked everyone staring at you as your king inspected you. “Cruel is smelling me.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t smell so delicious. Your arousal is strong, and oh so sweet. You’re such a desperate little bitch that needs…” his fucking mouth!

“And can you quit talking like that? Ugh, you don’t make me want to fuck you, you repulse me when you call me a-a-a desperate little bitch.”

He chuckles, and nods his head. Is that so? “What’s so funny?”

“Because when I say it, and also when you say it, did you know that your heart rate peaks?” No it doesn’t. “It does. You’re curious. You want to know what it means. You want to not just take my cock, but also my,” he stops his words, and shakes his head. He walks right past you and back into the maze. His what?

“Well, lets go. It’s getting cold, and we have some sleeping arrangements to deal with.” We? “Yes, we. Your kennel can be put in my room, and maybe if you promise to behave, I’ll let you sleep in the bed with me.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Hmm,” he shrugs, taking a right into the maze. No, you’d rather be on his knee while he coaxes you through your first orgasm.

“What?” He’s frustring you. Know-it-all.

“Wouldn’t you like to know how good grinding on my thigh would be with your bare pussy?” Yes. No. Ugh! He’s obnoxious. “I know I would. I’d love to see just how wet you get.”

“You’re talking disgusting again,” you remind him. This is only going to work if he doesn’t have his foul mouth.

“How about I make a deal?” You’d prefer it if he didn’t. “I can talk filthy when it’s just us. You can say what you want, too, princess, and your scent is getting that much sweeter. You’re heating up so fucking much. It’s delicious. I think you need to get out of your head. Let me privately offer you some relief.”

“Only if I ask for it or you,” he doesn’t quite enjoy that thought. He’d much rather have you be putty in his hands. But you can handle him. His filthy mouth is annoying if not invigorating. But maybe you can tame the beast that resides inside him. But even your white wolf didn’t act like this. Bucky always seemed like he was in a need to rut.

“Am I allowed a pet?”

“No,” he answers shortly. “There are to be no animals in the castle. We’re struggling to feed our people. We don’t need another mouth to feed.”

Hmm, he says that, but the wolf always finds a way to you. Bucky will just have to deal, or you might feed him to your wolf.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai

@smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989

@pandaxnienke @rogersbarber @theinheriteddutchess @buckybarnesisdaddy

@jesevans @alexakeyloveloki @bean-bean2000 @sebastians-love

[ashychangeling]

yay! Reader let him stay. I love this story.

Hold You Tight: Part 14

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 13 | Series Masterlist | Part 15

Chapter Word Count: Over 5k

Chapter Summary: The manager of The Red Room gives you a little advice regarding your situation with Bucky.

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, backstory, reference to stalking, hopelessness. inner turmoil, slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight! I realize some of this may feel like filler, but it's happening for a reason. Thank you for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Ray kept a close but respectable distance as he took you to his car. It was similar to the vehicle he drove Bucky around in, but a slightly different shade of black that wasn’t as flashy. You should've spotted it sooner, but you weren’t exactly looking for it, were you?

“Have you just been driving around following me all day?” you asked once you were in the car.

“I followed you on foot, too. I’m good at blending in,” he said, giving you a sideways glance as he buckled up and made sure you were buckled up, too. There was no boasting in his statement, just truth. “It wouldn't surprise me if I’m the one asked to stay nearby when you join your friends on Saturday.”

“But perhaps if she really does want to go and you’re unable to accompany her, boss, someone could discreetly keep an eye on her.”

With his looks and massive build, he shouldn’t be able to blend in so easily. How many people paid that close attention to their surroundings though? You hadn’t before. You needed to be on guard more. And what was that going to do to your stress levels?

At least it would be Ray watching if he was asked and not one of Bucky’s other friends.

“Well, I hope watching me drink wine doesn't bore you,” you said, glancing out the window as he drove off, watching the cars and people go by. “How did you get so good at what you do?”

“Making sure you're safe doesn't bore me,” he said. Ironic considering his boss put you in danger. “And I think that’s a story for another time.”

Ray said he had been working for Bucky for a few years. You wondered just how they met. There had to be a story there. “Do you ever think about walking away from it?” you asked curiously, bringing your gaze back to him while he kept his eyes on the road. “I mean, you have a life outside of this, right?”

Did he have family? Friends? A loved one? He had to have a hobby at least. Something.

He tapped a finger on the steering wheel. “Do you think one simply walks away?”

“No, I guess not,” you replied. It was unlikely that you would ever escape, but you didn’t know how it was for people who willingly ran in circles with men like Bucky. You still had a lot to learn. “But I’d like to think there’s hope for you if that’s what you want.”

“I appreciate the hope and I don’t want you to lose that,” he said, sparing you a sad glance. “But you should place it elsewhere.”

Where exactly would you place that hope when Bucky continued to infect everything in your life?

You nodded once, feeling a bit sad for him, too. He just seemed different from the others Bucky surrounded himself with. “Sorry for the questions.”

“Don't apologize,” he said, tapping the steering wheel again. “It’s nice that you care enough to ask.”

You smiled to yourself, content to sit in silence after that. Grabbing your phone from your bag, you aimlessly scrolled through your messages and stopped at Bucky’s name. There were no new messages, but would he send something at the stroke of midnight? And if he was in a mood without you around and Ray eventually told him that Zemo introduced himself to you, what would he do?

“We’re here,” Ray said after a minute, parking his car in front of a tall, sleek building and getting out. He held up a hand to stop the valet from opening the door for you, opting to help you out himself. “This way.”

The sleek theme continued as you went into the lobby and you understood why it was called The Red Room. The color was everywhere, balanced out by a mix of black and gray and soft lighting. The nearby sofa and chairs looked high-quality, as did the art. It appeared to be an oasis of luxury and a place for a well deserved break.

You stopped Ray before you got to the desk. “How much is a room? I get paid tomorrow, but…” You had some money in savings you could transfer over to cover what was surely an expensive cost.

“You haven't checked your account today, have you?”

Taking out your phone with a furrowed brow, you quickly logged into your bank account. An embarrassing squeak came out when you saw the amount, your eyes wide as you looked between your phone and Ray. That had to be some sort of mistake. There was no way…

Bucky.

“He put money in my account?” you whispered, double checking the amount to make sure your eyes weren't deceiving you. Why did he do that? “I can't…”

“He did and he won't take it back if you try,” Ray confirmed. “Regardless of how much you now have, if my boss found out that I suggested you stay here and made you pay he’d have my head.”

“Well, what’s the point of having this money then?” you pressed.

Not that you intended to use it. Spending even a dime of it would likely encourage Bucky to give you more. Or was it a test to see if you would spend it? Would he know if you did?

Maybe, just maybe, you could get Addison and Brady a nice wedding gift.

“To make sure you're taken care of in every possible way,” he said, gesturing to you to move forward.

“Welcome to The Red Room,” a woman in a black dress smiled, Ingrid from the name on her tag. “Do you have a reservation?”

“We do not,” Ray said, sliding a card over. “And I’ll need to speak with Natalia regarding a room, please.”

“Natalia?” Ingrid’s smile didn’t slip, but a hardened look took over her eyes and you suddenly felt uncomfortable. “I’m afraid that’s-”

“It’s fine, Ingrid. I’ll be happy to take care of them.” A redhead in a similar black dress walked over, her heels echoing on the marble floor. She carried herself with grace and power and looked like she could snap your neck without breaking a sweat. So did Ingrid for that matter. “Why don’t you go on break?”

“Of course.” Ingrid’s smile was back on her face. “Enjoy your stay,” she added, gliding away.

“Raymond. Good to see you,” Natalia said, her voice warm as he gave her a nod. “You’ll have to excuse Ingrid. She gets a little protective when anyone asks for Natalia. You know you're one of the only men around who still calls me that.”

“It’s your name, is it not?” he asked, though her tag read Natasha.

“Indeed it is. Maybe one day you’ll call me Natasha,” she said, cocking an eyebrow at you. You didn’t think she was judging you, but you still felt a little self conscious under her gaze. “I wasn't supposed to meet you until later. I also expected Bucky to be with you when that happened.”

You held your breath before you remembered that Ray said the manager had worked with Bucky before. “So you know who I am,” you said. For Bucky to preach about your safety, a lot of people were aware of who you were. “Does everyone know who I am?”

The corner of her lip quirked up. “Not everyone,” she said, turning her attention to Ray. “Why is she here early? Did something happen?”

“She needs a place to stay for the night and she’s not to be disturbed. That includes my boss.”

She raised an eyebrow again. “Understood. I’ll give her suite 213 and put you just across the hall.” Her fingers flew across the keyboard before she slid the card back to Ray. “Follow me.”

“Isn’t a suite a bit much?” you asked. And for Ray to pay for that, you had to pay him back somehow.

She paused to stare at you. “All of the rooms here are nice, but the suites are a bit more spacious. It’ll give you room to breathe while you relax,” she gently spoke. “You look like you could use some rest.”

Did she know the extent of what you had gone through? You weren’t claustrophobic but with Bucky smothering you, breathing and rest didn’t come to you as easily. “I appreciate that,” you said. A spacious area would feel nice.

She nodded, pressing the elevator button. “You’re also welcome to book anything in the spa at no charge and whatever you’d like from the restaurant or room service menu is on the house.”

You gaped at her. “So because I’m Bucky’s girl, you’ll just give me these things for free?” you asked, noticing that she stood on one side of you and Ray on the other. “I mean, I’m not trying to sound ungrateful, but there’s no need for the special treatment.”

Everyone so far in Bucky’s circle fawned over you. But what had you done to earn anything? Nothing. All you did was catch the eye of a powerful man.

“Nothing in life is free. There’s a price for everything,” she said above a whisper. “And I know you’re not ungrateful. You’re just not used to it.”

You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to it since you grew up with the belief that you had to work for what you were given. “You asked why I was here early. When exactly was I supposed to meet you?”

“Not to spoil the surprise, but Bucky booked a dinner reservation and our best suite for a romantic evening.” She gave Ray a glance, who didn’t look too pleased. “I think he plans to tell you the day of, if I had to guess.”

“Wonderful,” you muttered, a shiver running through your body. You weren't an idiot. If Bucky booked a suite for the two of you, he’d expect you to sleep with him.

“I thought you were good at keeping secrets, Natalia,” Ray uttered.

“I’m very good at keeping secrets that are actually worth keeping, Raymond,” she retorted.

“I’m glad you told me,” you said. In her defense, you asked a question and she gave you an almost direct answer. “Besides, it’s just another thing to add to the list of ‘surprises’ for today. Bucky having Ray follow me. Meeting Zemo.”

“Zemo?” She didn’t give anything away, but she gave Ray another look. This guy didn’t seem to have a lot of fans. “You met Zemo? When?”

“He introduced himself to me at the park just before we came here,” you replied.

She pursed her lips when the elevator door opened. “I can’t wait to hear how Bucky responds to that.”

Your stomach sank. You saw what he did to John after he insulted you. Zemo likely wouldn’t fare much better, but he also seemed to be a bigger player in whatever went on in the city.

“Will you let me do a sweep before she goes in?” Ray asked before Natasha could open the door.

“No one has been in this room and no one knew you were coming here, but I know you'll be chewed out if you don’t,” she said, stepping aside for him.

“You’re not planning to bug the place, are you, Ray?” You didn’t want to think he would, but you had to ask.

He didn’t look offended by the question. If anything, he seemed to understand your concern. “This is meant to be a safe haven for the rest of the day. I won’t take that from you,” he promised, shutting the door behind him. It was nice to have him somewhat on your side, even in the smallest capacity.

The hall was eerily quiet as you stood alone with the redhead. Your gaze darted back and forth, expecting Bucky to waltz in and tell you that this wasn’t a haven at all. That he’d drag you to the suite bed and do whatever he pleased.

“I’ve been told you have a kind heart,” Natasha said, bringing your attention back to her. “That’s good for Bucky.”

“Is it?” you asked, looking down the hall again.

“Relax,” she urged. “You don’t have to feel nervous here. You’re safe.”

“You work with Bucky, so I’m naturally going to feel nervous and suspicious,” you said. You wouldn’t apologize for that. “How much do you know about me?”

“A man named Jake who does security and surveillance works for both Bucky and I. When Bucky needed him for an extended period of time, I was naturally curious as to why. He gave me just enough pieces to put the puzzle together.”

“So you know I’m trapped,” you said. She had to know it wasn’t a consensual relationship.

“More or less,” she said.

“And let me guess. This Jake guy specializes in bugs and listening devices?”

“Hmm. So you know about the bugs,” she said. Bucky was all too proud to share that when you asked. “Jake does specialize in those and you might meet him at some point. If and when you do, don't blame him for doing his job, please. Not everyone gets to choose their line of work.”

“Well, I wish he would’ve stopped him,” you said. You could blame this guy, but it wouldn't do you any good. Like Natasha said, he may not have had a choice.

“If it’s any consolation, he wasn’t pleased when he realized he was helping bug an innocent person's place, but he has a sister and niece to consider,” she said, giving you a hard stare when you opened your mouth. “And before you ask because I know you’ll ask, I can’t help you.”

You tried not to get upset at her immediate denial to help. “May I ask why not?”

She sighed, toying with the delicate gold necklace around her neck. You wondered if the arrow charm was symbolic. “The women who work here… We didn’t exactly have the best upbringing and we didn’t have much freedom, even as adults. Including my sister,” she explained, a haunted look taking over her eyes momentarily. “But Bucky stepped in some time ago and helped us. Without him, I wouldn’t have been able to open this place or give us normal life. I’ll be forever in his debt for that.”

“He helped you?” you asked. Marc mentioned that he donated to the local hospital and charities, but this was something else. Was this a normal hotel or some kind of refuge?

“He did. When he isn't doing bad things, he actually does some good,” she answered, still toying with her necklace. “In all the time I’ve known him, there have only been two things I’ve ever heard him say he wants and you’re one of them. If I help take you away from him, I don’t know what he’ll do.”

“So you won’t help me, but it’s really more like you can’t,” you guessed. She was essentially in Bucky’s pocket and had to think of the women under her employment and her sister. She couldn’t put them in danger. “No one will help me.”

“Barnes isn’t the kind of man you win a fight against. It’s better for most to stay on his good side than to be his enemy,” she said, putting a hand on your shoulder when you hung your head. “Hey. I’m not telling you to just lay over and accept your new relationship for what it is, but I don’t want you to be surprised when people keep telling you ‘no’ when you ask for help.”

“Everyone just looks the other way and that isn’t…” You bit your lip to keep from screaming.

“It isn’t fair. I know,” she whispered. Her sympathy didn't make you feel better. “I won’t make excuses for him because what he has done is awful, but he isn’t entirely evil. He’s… flawed. We all are.”

Would Bucky be so flawed if people didn’t enable him or look the other way? “Do you think I’ll get used to belonging to him? I keep fighting it, but…” Doors kept getting slammed in your face in terms of help and that hope continued to fade. Was it time to accept the inevitable?

She considered your question. “I can’t say if you’ll get used to it, but there’s a careful balance between embracing a circumstance while maintaining your own boundaries. You need to find that.”

“But I have no boundaries thanks to Bucky,” you argued. He took them away.

“Maybe not now, but you could get some back down the line. He isn’t a man most people win fights against, but he’s still just a man. Use what you know about him and sway him. You have a little more power than you think.”

You thought back to the club when Jax flirted with you. Bucky worked himself up, but your touch and soft demeanor helped calm him down. “I guess I could try,” you said. It seemed easy enough, but he was so good at swinging things in his favor that you had a hard time believing you had a chance.

“And it isn’t much, but I can offer you a space here to use on occasion if you need time away from him. I know you don’t believe he’ll let you use it, but I think you can convince him and you deserve a safe haven,” she said, smiling a little when she handed you a card. “I could even have one of the girls teach you some self defense if you’re interested in any lessons.”

You turned the card over. There was only a phone number listed and a black widow spider. “I appreciate the offer, Natasha,” you said, tucking it in your bag. It wasn’t freedom, but it was something. And whatever Natasha’s full story was, your heart went out to her. “Can I ask what the second thing is?”

“Excuse me?”

“You said Bucky has only wanted two things in the time you’ve known him and I’m one of them. What’s the other thing?”

She shook her head. “That’s for him to tell you.”

Ray came out of the room a moment later. “All clear. Not that I expected anything less from you and your staff, Natalia,” he said. It earned him a small smile as she passed his room card over. “I’ll be just across the hall if you need me.”

“And you can ask for me personally if you call the desk,” Natasha added.

“I appreciate it, but I’ll be fine,” you said honestly. As long as Bucky didn't show up. “I’ll just order some wine and food, curl up in bed, and finish reading my book.” You didn’t need much else.

“Are you sure?” Ray asked.

“I’m sure,” you smiled softly. He had done enough by bringing you there. “Thank you both.”

They each gave you a sympathetic gaze as you stepped inside and shut the door behind you. The red, black, and gray theme continued in the tastefully designed suite. It was the nicest hotel room you had ever been in. Too nice for someone like you.

Setting your bag down and removing your shoes, you went right to the bedroom with your phone and book. The large bed looked comfortable and inviting. Sighing as you stretched out, you stared at the ceiling and tried to reflect on what had recently transpired.

Natasha. She couldn't directly help you and she had her reasons, but she might be a good ally. She was at least in the camp that you deserved some sense of freedom and offered you a small form of sanctuary. It was better than nothing.

Ray, you still couldn't figure him out. Like Natasha, he wouldn't directly help you. Bucky said he was loyal and didn't let emotions cloud him. He seemed to care to an extent though.

You froze when a message popped up on your phone. It wasn't from Bucky though. It was from your coworker, Kate.

“Hey, girl! You know Clark? Pretty blue eyes. Super hot. He stopped in and asked when your next shift was.”

Your stomach twisted in knots. Why was he asking? “Hey. What did you tell him?”

Kate messaged back quickly and your stomach twisted up more. “Told him you’d be in tomorrow and he looked happy until Mrs. Crandle announced that you have a boyfriend?! Girl, WHAT?! I need all the details!”

You groaned and hid your face in the pillow. Mrs. Crandle meant no harm, but this was the last thing you needed. Maybe Clark wouldn't come around after hearing that. “I’ll tell you about it during our next shift together.”

You didn't look at your phone for the rest of the afternoon. Instead, you lost yourself in the pages of the book and only took a break to order a drink and meal from the room service menu. And true to Natasha’s word, no one disturbed you. The food was left outside of the door once ready. Natasha even had a nice pair of pajamas sent up for you.

It was a quiet and relaxing rest of the day.

But as the sun went down and you got ready for bed, you held up your left hand and looked at your bare ring finger. A shuddering breath left your lungs as you imagined a ring around your finger. How happy your friends would be that you found love. How happy Bucky would be to have you tied to him forever.

Glancing at the empty side of the bed after your delicious meal, you wondered how it was going to be sleeping next to Bucky. Was he a cuddler or would he want his own space? Would he hog the covers? You would find out soon enough, wouldn't you?

But for today, he left you alone. He kept his promise. Yes, he sent Ray to watch you, but he hadn't shown up or reached out. He actually gave you some space instead of smothering you. And with you in the suite, he didn't have eyes on you.

Who knows? Maybe his mood improved and he had a good day without you. One could only hope.

“Good night, Bucky,” you whispered, closing your eyes and getting the sleep you craved.

A loud knock on the door woke you. Slowly opening your eyes with a groan, you wondered what time it was. Your body alarm clock said it was too early. Stretching, you made your way to the door and stopped when you heard raised voices outside.

“Get the hell out of my way, Natasha.”

You gasped when you heard Bucky’s voice, the quick anger rushing through you making you clench your fists. God, you knew it. You knew he’d show up.

“Don't make me put you on your ass, Barnes.” Natasha didn't sound afraid at all. What was it like to not have fear? “I’ll repeat myself in case you didn't hear me the first time: My instructions were that she wasn't to be disturbed and that includes you. So unless you're checking in, I suggest you leave. The fact that you’re even on this floor after I promised no one would bother her-”

“He was up here to speak with me,” Ray cut in.

“And I did. Now I need to see her,” Bucky said, the desperation in his voice making your heart ache.

“Boss, it’s two in the morning.”

“Exactly. You need to let her sleep. It’s the least you could do,” Natasha urged.

“I promised her the day to herself, but that day is up and I have to see that she’s okay,” Bucky argued. You were lucky he didn't knock on your door at 12:01. “I just need to see her with my own eyes.”

The bugs at your place would've given him access to whatever he wanted, but he didn't have that in the suite. It was probably driving him crazy. He sure as hell sounded out of sorts.

“Wow, an entire day. How generous.” You almost laughed at Natasha’s snark. It was appreciated. “Is this about Zemo? I know he saw her at the park, but he hasn’t been around here. We both know I’d never allow him to set foot in the door without a very good reason.”

“I still need to deal with him and he’ll be lucky if I don’t kill him with my bare hands,” Bucky growled, making you tense up.

“You have enough blood on your hands, but what’s one more body?” Natasha asked, the conversation reminding you once again that Bucky was a killer. “Look, I’m not going to disturb her and neither should you.”

“Natasha-”

“No. You played this wrong, Barnes. You could've chosen a compassionate route of courting her and eased her into this, but you intimidated her from the start and made it so she won’t ever be free of you. Maybe you're more like your father than-”

The sound of something colliding with the nearby wall made you jump back from the door, your heart thudding. It took a moment to get your bearings before you threw the door open to make sure Natasha was okay. The redhead, Ray, and Bucky all looked toward you and no one had a single mark on them. The wall beside the door, however, had a fist sized hole.

“Kotyonok,” Bucky smiled the second he saw you. He looked like he hadn't slept much. Good. Now he knew how it felt.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, not having it in you to scream, cry, or anything else. “And did you just punch a hole in the wall?”

He chuckled sheepishly, brushing off his gloved hand. “Yeah, I did that.”

He was unbelievable.

“I’m so sorry he woke you,” Natasha said, putting out an arm to stop Bucky when he stepped forward. “Back up, Barnes. You’ve seen for yourself that she’s fine.”

“Yep. I’m fine.” You gestured to yourself and yawned. “Can I please go back to sleep?”

“Can I come in for just a minute?” Bucky asked, a touch of guilt in his eyes when you narrowed yours. He was pushing his luck when all you wanted to do was go back to bed. “Please?”

“Apologize to Natasha for damaging her property,” you demanded. He had no right to do that.

“I’m sorry, Natasha,” he sincerely stated.

Natasha’s mouth parted before her cool expression took over again. “Thankfully no one else was on this floor, so you hopefully didn't disturb anyone else.”

Bucky's eyes were still on you, full of longing. “May I please come in?”

You mulled over it. Technically he still kept his promise and let you be for a day. You could be angry later that he showed up so early. For now, you needed sleep.

“Come in,” you said, surprising everyone, yourself included. “It’s fine,” you assured Natasha and Ray.

The redhead nodded after a moment and lowered her arm, but the bodyguard shot his boss a subtle glare. “You know I'll have to bill you for the damage,” Natasha told Bucky.

“I know,” he said. He could afford it.

“Thank you, Ray. Natasha. I hope you both get some rest, too,” you said, letting Bucky into the suite and shutting the door.

Bucky let out a breath as he looked you over, but didn't move any closer when you backed up. Of course he had to invade what was meant to be your haven for the night. Strangely, you weren't as nervous as usual to have him so close. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you mumbled, crossing your arms when he slipped his jacket off. “You really couldn't wait until after sunrise to see me?”

“I’m sorry. I was up late at the club and Ray said you were here and… I missed you,” he explained, his expression soft.

It was kind of nice to be missed. “I’m sure you did,” you yawned again. “King of the loopholes,” you added under your breath.

He ran a gloved hand through his hair. “And I’m sorry about Zemo. I should've known he would-”

You shook your head quickly. “Nope. Not having this talk when I'm still sleepy,” you said, heading toward the bedroom. It was too heavy of a discussion to have in the middle of the night. “Take your shoes off. We both know you aren't leaving.”

He looked surprised all over again when you looked back at him. “You’re letting me stay?” he asked, a smile on his face like you handed him a gift. “You aren't telling me to leave?”

“Stay or go, up to you, but I'm going back to sleep,” you said, curling up on the bed. “And if you sleep next to me, don't you dare let your hands wander.”

“And you’re letting me lay with you,” he said, the mattress dipping beside you. “You’re being very agreeable.”

“You’re lucky I’m choosing to be nice instead of kicking your ass or letting Natasha kick your ass for disturbing me and my sleep,” you said, tensing up when he spooned you, his arm wrapped tight around you and his breath warm against your neck. “We have some things to talk about when I wake up.”

Ray following you. Zemo. Natasha’s offer. Bucky’s mom. Your relationship.

“We can talk about whatever you want,” he whispered, nuzzling you gently as your eyes shut. “Did you miss me yesterday?”

“No,” you mumbled.

Your reply didn't stop him from chuckling. “Not even a little bit?”

You sighed. “If I say ‘yes’, will you let me sleep?”

“I will,” he answered.

“I missed you a little,” you said, snuggling further into the pillow. He placed his hand over yours and you blamed your tiredness for why you didn't tense up again. “Now sleep.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to your neck, but didn't push any further, thankfully. “Thank you for letting me hold you.”

Your heart clenched. He sounded so happy just to be around you, just to be in your space. You were his everything.

“You’re welcome,” you mumbled, drifting off not long after.

Your last thought before you fell asleep was that you hoped Bucky would behave himself.

Lovelies, I think we all knew Bucky would show up the first chance he had. What do we think of Natasha? Is she being truthful that she can't help or is she biding her time? Will Bucky behave? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[ashychangeling]

Fun story. When I was actively being stalked (both online and IRL), I contacted the police exactly one time. I showed them the physical notes that had been left under the wiper blade on my car after I blocked the man on social media. I showed them the previous Facebook messages this man had sent me that described, in detail, what he wanted to do to me.

The police said they couldn’t help me because the man had not actually physically done any of those things to me. He’d just talked about his desires. They even made excuses for him. He’s awkward. He’s lonely. You’re pretty. It’s a compliment.

So friendly reminder that when a man with a record and weapons makes verbal/written threats against a woman, there’s nothing police can do.

But when a frustrated woman being denied medical coverage with no record and no weapons makes a “verbal threat” against a corporation, she’s arrested immediately.

[ashychangeling]

tumblr friendships are hard to maintain like im sorry i know i havent talked to you in 5 months but you’re still super rad and i still consider us friends im just dumb

[ashychangeling]

alright come on hazel !

[ashychangeling]

this sounds so good. I love any story with Dennis (there aren't many lol). I feel like this might be a werewolf fic perhaps. Also Ari better stay away from reader, Dennis has it bad enough 😠.

Let Him Loose (Preview)

As promised, here is a preview of what I am working on. A slow build to be sure but it's been a while since I posted something and I'm still working on closing up some fics but life has been extremely busy!

I'll also be responding to those in my inbox - I didn't forget you, I promise!

Dennis Baker x Female Reader

Word Count: 925

Warnings: None for now, just some world building.

-

He keeps his eyes on the road, lifting a shaky hand to bring the insulated mug to his lips, swallowing down a sip as an 80’s synth pop song plays faintly in the background. Dennis has always been a nervous sort but today he’s much worse for wear, talkative at first about his new promotion until the city became a distant past, the highway stretching longer than before, his silence almost unnerving. His fingers grip the steering wheel tight, a cheerful commercial breaking through as you strain to listen to it.

“Come on down to Delilah’s Discount Deals! Where there’s something for everyone,” the upbeat spokesperson invites before the music starts again.

Enough is enough.

Your boyfriend’s jaw is clenched so tight that you wonder if he’ll break a tooth, placing your hand on his over the gear shift as he looks down under his clear framed glasses.

“Hey,” you begin, seeing him smile for a scant second. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he answers, his eyes going back on the road. “Why?”

“Because you’ve barely said two words since we left?”

“Sorry. Just got a lot on my mind.”

His phone alerts with another incoming text message and then another before he exhales loudly.

“She won’t let up,” Dennis says forlornly. “I’m driving as fast as I can. Why they need me there before tomorrow is ridiculous, it’s not like we’re part of their plan.”

He accelerates slightly, your fingers pressing into the plush leather armrest as he begins to slow.

It’s not a secret that he doesn’t want to see his family for the holidays. He’s been putting it off for months – years even – but a promotion, even one that he had excitedly told his parents, had been a cause for a celebration that ended up becoming mandatory, by his family offering to host you both for the holiday, not taking no for an answer.

There’s not much you know about his family. Ever since you started dating, he’s been careful to navigate how he speaks about them to you. It wasn’t the best upbringing, that much you know as he’s shared that much. He grew up poor, bullied for his glasses and calm demeanor, ostracized for leaving the small town he grew up in for a scholarship for college and never looking back, let alone to visit. His parents, Dennis had told you, were proud people – proud of who they were and where they came from.

It was obvious that Dennis didn’t agree and knowing how stressed he was, it didn’t make sense for you to push the issue, not when you knew that topic is one he still tries to avoid.

“We don’t have to go,” you speak up, Dennis shaking his head slowly, eyes still on the road.

“That won’t go over well. Just better to get it over with.”

“Dennis,” you admonish, seeing him reach for his coffee again. “They’re your parents.”

“I know. They’re gonna love you, you know.”

As much of a comfort as that gives you, it’s the sadness in his voice that almost feels envious. Still, you don’t press, quietly looking at the window as the trees whizz past.

“You don’t seem excited.”

“I’m not,” he answers matter-of-factly, picking up his phone to glance at the text message before he places it back down, a look of dread appearing on his features.

“What is it?”

“My brother will be there.”

“Oh?” you ask, watching him take another gulp of coffee. “You haven’t seen him in a while, right? Sounds like a family reunion.”

“I wouldn’t call it that but sure.”

“What’s your brother like?” you ask, trying to get him to open up. Whatever the text message was, it didn’t please Dennis in the slightest, seeing him turn the phone face down in the cup holder.

“The favorite.”

“The favorite?” you repeat, Dennis still looking straight ahead, his fingers flexing slightly.

“Yeah.”

That’s all the response you will get, you realize, Dennis giving a short shrug. You know nothing about his brother, only that he has one, something muttered when you were first starting to date but the subject was dropped quickly.

“He’ll like you,” he says, almost bitterly. “You’ll like him too.”

“How do you know?”

You sound accusatory but you don’t mean it. Dennis seems so resolved that he’ll be cast aside that you find yourself getting defensive, as if he doesn’t believe you won’t be on his side.

“Because he’s the rugged type. I’ve seen the books you read,” Dennis chides with a slight smile that is gone before you can appreciate it. “He’s like that.”

“Books are books, they aren’t you,” you remind him, flashing him a smile. “Those books don’t have your self-deprecating jokes, your thoughtfulness and care. You know that.”

He smiles finally – a real smile with a flash of pearly white teeth – before he settles back into his seat.

“Just promise one thing,” Dennis says after a short pause, slowing to look at you for a moment. “Stay inside when it starts to get dark when we get there. Probably a silly superstition but it’s important. Promise?”

You want to make a joke but you know better, especially with how serious Dennis has become again. You’ll ask your questions later, when he’s not so agitated.

“I promise,” you recite.

“Good,” he says with a sigh of relief. “My family loves their traditions, Ari even more so. Let’s just ease you in slow so you don’t get overwhelmed.”

“Who is Ari?” you ask.

“My older brother.”

[ashychangeling]

I have been looking for this fic everywhere. Very well written. So sweet and hot.

Sweet Girl.

Summary || Werewolf Bucky has been gone away on a mission for a month now - he comes back and shows how much he missed his girl.

Warning/content || A/B/O dynamics, alpha!Bucky, smut, breading kink, heat implied, fingering, oral receiving (female), a little rough but soulmate AU, soft!Bucky, so so soft.

Paring || Bucky Barnes x female reader

A/N: I never write smut, I just never did so I dunno if it's good, but I'll write more if you guys like it, let me know!

Bucky Barnes master list || join my tag list!

Bucky's nostrils flare the moment he steps through the front door, the scent is enough to send goosebumps up his skin, heart stutters inside the confines of ribs as the mate bond pulls him closer and closer inside.

The thought of seeing his girl after so long, the Moon's blessing; his soulmate makes his vision blur, his skin buzz with excitement.

There's something else, well hidden and masked away under the layers of clothes, it's sweeter and no one but an Alpha would know - your on the brink of your heat.

He should have realized, over the course of a few weeks gaining some extra weight. It carries on broad shoulders and bulges his belly; the body's way of preparing to fight for his mate and endure the strenuous work of satisfying and breeding his girl.

Bucky heads straight for the bedroom, where no doubt you're buried in a thick pile of his shirts and miscellaneous blankets by now, anything that carried his smell. His fingers grip the door knob harshly, jaw clenching at your scent, new and fresh sends shivers down his spine.

Without a second thought, he enters the cooled room watching as your head raises just to curl deeper into the comfort of a pillow.

"Hi, baby." Bucky doesn't even bother to pull the laces from his boots, instead harshly yanks them off before throwing them somewhere across the room.

His nose nuzzles your collarbone as flat mechanical hand supports his body weight from crushing you. The tip skims over the skin on the base of your neck, down the bony clavicle until he takes a deep breath - smelling from the source. "Missed you babydoll."

A soft, pink tongue reaches from pouty lips to run across the mating gland, the tattoo of his fangs that would last a life time.

"Missed you too, honey." Soft hands reach up cup his cheeks, rub finger nails against the dark coarse hair. Bushy and full, not having much time to shave. Not that you minded anyways, angling his lips to your own before pressing a soft kiss.

Those lips follow down his jawline, thick column of his neck until reaching the mark you created against his skin, scenting him. The smell of your alpha instantly relaxes you, between being on edge of your coming heat and missing him, it's exactly what you needed.

"Doing okay?"

You nod, knowing exactly what he's asking. The nest was only about three days old, the side affects just starting to set way, there's no heat waves, no pain but it's hard to feel comfortable with your Alpha so far away.

"Can't stop eating and I feel anxious when you're gone."

"I know sweetheart, I'm here now." Now he's crushing you with his weight, pressing soothing kisses - small apologies against your temple. A shewolf is always known to get a crippling amount of anxiety around this time and with the desire to start nesting it was only a matter of time before it happened. "Gonna go take a shower, you stay here. I'll make us something to eat too."

"You go shower, I'll start dinner."

"I don't want you getting up, honey. I'll cook, you lay here and look pretty. I don't want you more stressed then you already are." With the changing hormones and body's preparation for creating a new life the slightest things could send you off. "Besides, I want you rested and ready to be bred."

The words send a shiver down your spine, right to your very core. Which Bucky instant picks up on, sniffing the air as his eyes flutter close. "You make it so hard honey, you smell so good my 'mega."

Your hips lift off the bed, only to rub into the thick line of his erection, heavy and hot against your inner thigh as a small gasp leaves his lips. Gentle but strong hands cup your hips, fingertips squeezing the perfect amount to make you moan but despite your protest he pushes you back into the matress and whispers a raspy, "Behave," into your ear before disappearing into the bathroom.

Despite his clear warning, you decided to start dinner. Nothing to fancy, pasta with cheese and some home made garlic bread.

Bucky is momentarily stunned the moment he sees you - stirring the sauce in nothing but his shirt and a pair of black, cotton panties except for the fact they're growing tighter, the only thing that currently fits you at the moment and they're still so tight, causing red marks of irritation and cutting into your skin - hips and thighs rounding and fattening - preparing for the next few brutal days of being so sick to your stomach there is no time to eat. Which also explains the apprehensive appetite.

Your body is changing, bare breast rub against the white t-shirt. Bras no longer fitting due to the swelling and heaviness of tender breast, nipples already hard as you turn around to reach for the salt on the kitchen counter but Bucky doesn't give you a chance too.

With unhuman speed he has you spread across the length of kitchen island, torso presses between your legs to keep them apart. The clicking and swirling of metal plates as cool appendages cup the heaviness of your left breast, so full and big. You hiss softly, sore and sensative from the fact you don't have time to catch up with your changing body.

His erection is heavy against your clothed wound, soaking the cotton panties out of per primal behavior. He groans softly, eyes fluttering like he's in physical pain at the smell - arousal musky in the air.

"Hurts Buck, I'm sore."

"Look so good." It's barely audible as a cool and flesh hand slip under the shirt, flipping up and over your full breasts. Heavy and large like they're filled with milk, body naturally reacting to the fact it's fully capable of growing his babies and he fully intends for it to.

His top half is bare, his own weight gain is promient, broad shoulder three times bigger then normal, chest packed with muscles, stomach fit but bulking. Steel eyes filled with glossy arousal, bottom lips tucked between pearly whites and he just stares - being under his gaze is exciting, primal as darkening eyes dare you to move, to run from your alpha but that's the last thing you want to do.

"Nothing fits me anymore, babydoll." He notices you eyeing his physique but there was no doubt in your mind with the rut weight he would ever fit into those shirts - not until your heat is over.

"Me either." Hips press against his own, catching him off guard as your cloth covered pussy rubs his throbbing hard on, a soft, surprised moan catching in his throat.

His hand presses against your sternum, the other holding your hip down against the marble counter, a warning. "Stop that, honey, you're making this hard."

"I need you, Bucky." So needy, he throbs against the heat.

"Not until your heat comes, don't want to waste it." The reply makes you whine, a pout that makes breathing cease in his chest. Heats weren't regular, sometimes could take up to two years to come back and after your last one came back with negative results, he was going to make sure this time. "Gonna make sure you're filled with it all."

"Buck, I need it." Tears of frustration gather at the corner of your eyes, the hormones mixing with the uncomfortable sting that falls over your body, big fat tears slipping past eyelids. "Please, Alpha, need you."

The words would send any other Alpha over the edge - he was so fucking close to breaking but instead presses a gentle, flesh finger to gather to tears, wipe away collecting moisture on your cheeks. "Hey, hey, it's okay sweet girl, gonna take care of you."

Lips follow down the valley of your breast, over the thickening skin of your stomach, rough fingers clenching over the roundness of your thighs as a hiss of pleasure as your back arches from the cool counter top. Hands push you back down before the tip of his nose circles your belly button - a fat, wet tongue sticking out to lick a thick stripe against your inner thigh before nuzzling his nose against the cotton panties, inhaling the sweet scent of your wetness and coming heat.

Without your own will your hips press into his face, moaning softly at the contact. It hurt, practically throbbing the moment Bucky stepped into the house - his scent was enough to send you into a frenzy.

He didn't waste any time, metal hand tugging and tearing away the dark panties - not like they fit anymore anyways. Lips wrapping around your clit so beautifully you gasp, sucking and rolling it with a soft, satisfied yum.

"Oh, Buck!" Lips carve out over the hood of your pussy, sucking messily as filthy noises fill the room. He's barely even touched you but thighs squeeze his head.

He lets out a sound of annoyance like you would dare try to stop him from claiming what's his, fingers cupping the outer thighs and yanking so hard your inner ones burn but you barely have time to register as his tongue fills your pussy, skillfully flickering back and forth.

A thumb comes up to rub your clit, pressing a little to rough it makes you jump from his mouth which only earns a warning spank to the fullness of your ass. "Be a good girl."

You nod lamelessly, agreeing to anything as long as he puts his mouth back onto you. The obscene noises of your pussy will the air - the wetness combined with the brutal pace of his tongue, his need to pull back a few inches and spit before two very large fingers fill you. All but sucked inside.

"Fuck, fuck!" You moan,

Bucky pants - visibly pants as he eyes never leave your face, watching as fingers hit that delicious spot that makes your mouth fall open, curling and flickering inside you as another wave of wetness costs his hand, rolls down his wrist, down your inner thighs, you're dripping as eyes roll back onto your head.

"Doing so good for me sweet girl, you wanna come for me?"

Your mouth opens but no words come out under the brutal mercy of his pace, thick fingers quickening their past watching as eyelashes flutter against your cheeks. "You're so close, squeezing around me, jus' wanna feel it.. missed you."

Brain short circuiting, skin prickling with intense fire, ears and forehead heating making it nearly impossible to keep your eyes open as his tongue kitten licks your clit, teasing for a few times before he wraps those sinful lips around it and sucks, hard.

His other hand hand clicks as it presses up against your chin, rubbing against the fat of your bottom lip with a loud huff, "Suck."

Lips wrap around the metal phalax as it smooths along your tongue until it's so deep inside your throat, you gag. Bucky's wound up now, rutting his lips into cabinets of the island, looking for some kind of friction, relief from his throbbing cock.

He changes the angle of his fingers, hitting a different spot that makes you scream along with the harsh bite against your inner thigh and something snaps - you cum, cum so hard that it leaks all over his hand, smears his face and soaks the counter top.

He lazily lays a flesh hand onto your hip, using his thumb to rub soft, gentle circles against it as you pant loudly, crying to calm your stuttering heart. He doesn't say anything, still on his knees between your legs and rests his head on your right inner thigh but not before pressing a kiss there. "Won't be long now, sweetheart. You'll be filled with my pups before the start of next week."

The words are enough to make your heart swell - there's nothing more you want in this world but to fulfill his desire to have a big family, raise little ones together in this house he build from the ground up with the solid purpose of having babies.

He doesn't dare move from his spot instead lovingly gazes up at you, pressing a soft kiss to the rather harsh gash on your thigh. After he gives you a few moments to collect yourself, he pulls you down by your hips, joining him on the floor as your straddle his lap.

But instead of using this compromising position for his own use, he presses his nose against the healed mark of his fangs, and inhales deeply. The wolf inside him on edge, fighting the primal urge to fill his female right here on the floor.

Tiny pin pricks against it, the tip of his canines press into the skin but not enough to break it; clearly not wishing to harm you. It's not uncommon to strengthen the bond, especially after being away so long you completely understand.

"It's alright, you can do it."

"No." He mumbles and decides to place a kiss into it instead, "Already took it out on your thigh, sorry sweetheart."

"S, okay." You mumble, exhausted as eyelashes flutter against his should and he just holds you closer, whispering sweet words against your hair as he rocks you back and forth on his lap. A little calm before the storm that's coming.

What does everyone think? I'm actually pretty proud considering I had no idea what I was doing 😭 I also have a good idea for part 2 if anyone would like to read it? Comment to be tagged..

[ashychangeling]

love love this series. I loved that they finally kissed in this and the last chapter. Poor bucky. He's not a monster, gosh y/n isn't acting like me. I would've moved in around chapter 3 lol.

Hold You Tight: Part 13

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 12 | Series Masterlist | Part 14

Chapter Word Count: Over 4.8k

Chapter Summary: You're on edge, but try to enjoy the day of freedom that Bucky promised you.

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, mild dubcon (kissing, touching), tension, unease, possessiveness, inner turmoil, gaslighting, manipulation, stalking, slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight and thank you for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

For his part, Bucky behaved once you were back in the shop. He waited patiently while you tried on a couple of the dresses and didn't attempt to go back into the dressing room or force you to come out and model them. You were thankful for that since there wasn't anything to jam under the doorknob and you didn’t need him to corner you again. Who knew how much he’d push the envelope the next time.

Before you went to the counter, you grabbed a cardigan from a rack. “This, too, please” you said, handing it to the associate. It would be nice to have in case you got cold at the vineyard.

“Of course,” she smiled, ringing it up with the other garments and accessories selected.

Bucky eyed the cardigan with a small smile. “That looks warm and comfortable,” he commented, sliding a card across the counter. “I should’ve remembered that,” he said almost to himself.

“Well, part of the fun of shopping is picking out your own stuff,” you said, careful to leave the bite out of your voice.

“And part of the fun of gift giving is surprising the receiver,” he said, kissing your temple. “I was trying to surprise you by having stuff you liked ready,” he added in a smaller voice.

You didn’t miss the glance from the associate, making you feel as small as Bucky’s voice sounded. Of course, he made himself look like a doting boyfriend and your comment made you sound ungrateful. “It was a really nice gesture and I loved the dresses selected. Thank you,” you said. He showed that he knew and liked your taste like a caring partner would do. “But maybe during the next shopping trip I can go through and pick everything out myself?” It would give you some sort of autonomy.

“Sure,” he smiled, likely happy at the prospect of there being a next time.

You mumbled a thank you to the associate before Bucky carried everything out of the store, not at all ashamed to carry stuff for his girl. Another doting boyfriend gesture. He even refused to let Ray take the garments from him when he held the door open. Nor did he let his bodyguard help you into the car.

“I didn’t spoil you as much as I wanted to, but it’s a start,” he smiled once you both got settled in.

“Yeah, it is,” you said. In your eyes, he spoiled you plenty. “I really do appreciate it. I’m not used to someone wanting to spoil me.”

Past boyfriends didn't care enough to do nice things like that. The last girl Bucky dated tried to steal from him, but did she demand shopping trips? Maybe he was simply happy to spend his money beyond you being his girl because you didn't expect or ask him to.

“You deserve it,” he said, sighing as he raked a hand through his hair. “I can't believe I won't see you tomorrow.”

You glanced at him and noted the droop in his shoulders. He may have dismissed your feelings from time to time, but it wouldn't help you to dismiss his when you were stuck in a vehicle with him. “I know it'll be tough, but it’s one day and you do have a photo of me to look at if you’ll miss me.” Who knew what else he had since your place was bugged.

“I do. I’ll probably look at it all day between work and other stuff,” he smiled, tilting his head toward you. “Do you think you could do me a favor?”

You eyed him suspiciously. “Depends on the favor,” you replied. God, did he want you to send him an explicit photo of you or something?

He made sure he was looking you in the eye. “Don’t run tomorrow. Don't leave the city,” he stated.

You blinked. The man wasn’t psychic, so how could he possibly know you thought of doing that very thing? At least, to get out of the city earlier than the girls trip. Was your poker face that terrible? “You think I’ll run?”

“I think part of you wants to try. Not even because you want freedom, but because you want to rebel against me and take back some control,” he replied. For his part, he didn’t sound upset. “But I think you and I both know you either won’t get far or you won’t end up running at all.”

You opened and shut your mouth. You wanted to. God knows you wanted to get far away. “Do you think I’m a coward if I don’t try?” You weren’t sure why his opinion on the situation mattered since he was the cause of it all.

“I think you’re one of the furthest things from a coward. Given the circumstances, you’ve been extremely brave,” he said. You didn't feel brave, but it was kind of nice to hear. “But one other favor? Don’t tear your place apart looking for the bugs either.”

You practically threw your arms up in the air, his compliment of you forgotten. The man was beyond exasperating. “Oh, come on! You’re giving me the day to myself, but I still have to stay in the city and I can’t get rid of the bugs?” You smacked his chest before you could stop yourself. “Your compromises suck, do you know that?”

His eyebrows shot up. “Did you… did you just say my compromises suck?” He threw his head back, his laughter filling the car. “Your insults are just as adorable as you are.”

“Yes, that’s what I said and my insults aren’t adorable,” you said, your face hot when he kept chuckling. “And I swear if you find some sort of loophole to see me tomorrow, I will go to your penthouse and throw out all of your expensive suits for being a liar.”

That cut his laughter short, but his eyes still sparkled with amusement. “Now we both know you’d donate my clothes before throwing them out. At least make your threat credible.”

“I… Okay, no, I wouldn't throw them away,” you said, smacking his chest once more when he looked like he’d laugh again. “But you may be onto something with donating. Maybe I'll donate your first editions to someone, too.”

“You wouldn't.” He tapped the tip of your nose, sending more fire through your veins. “You’re not the vengeful type.”

Grabbing his wrist before he could pull away, you lightly bit his finger and drew a sharp gasp from him. “I might just surprise us both.”

Heat crept up your neck at the look in his eyes. “I have no doubt about that,” he whispered, holding the back of your head and closing the gap between you.

His lips were persistent against yours, but still soft. So was his tongue invading your mouth. You put a hand against his chest as he pushed further into your space, but he was an immovable wall. You should've known he’d take your action as foreplay. He would twist anything and everything you did in his favor.

His scruff tickled your cheek as you turned your head away to breathe, but the intake of air didn't slow your heart. “Did you know I’ve dreamt of moments like this with you?” His hand cupped your breast through your top as you shuddered. You were trapped once again, just like in the shop. “You riled up or flustered and you making me laugh? Just… little moments.”

“No,” you whispered, his thumb brushing your nipple until it hardened. Touching you, having you, yes, you knew he dreamt of those things. You knew he wanted a connection. Hearing how much he craved the little things made your head spin, too.

“Well, I have.” Before you could tell him to stop, his hand fell away. “I won’t bother you tomorrow,” he whispered, brushing his hair back and settling once again in his seat. “As much as I want to see you, I won't.”

You smoothed out your top and got comfortable again, too. The underlying tension didn't cease when he took your hand and you didn't flinch or pull away. He wouldn't try anything else. Not tonight. You just knew.

“Try not to run tomorrow, okay?” he asked.

You looked out the window and caught him looking at you in the glass, the semi distorted image an accurate description of your relationship. You knew it was off, that he was off. No one else would see it that way or just didn’t care.

“I’ll try not to,” you replied.

Whether it was cowardly to not try or stupidly brave to stay, you might just have to stay put.

You didn't say much for the remainder of the car ride. Bucky brought up the double date again with Steve and you didn't argue when he suggested a couple of places. Maybe you could figure out what Steve was doing to this girl and you could help each other out. At the very least, it would be nice to have a new friend who might understand a bit of what you were going through.

It was fucked up way to think.

Bucky managed to balance the books he purchased for you earlier that day as well as the clothes once Ray parked the car. “I can carry something,” you offered.

“I've got it, but thanks,” he said, refusing to let Ray help either. “And this way, I'll keep my hands to myself,” he added with a smirk.

You bristled, but recovered quickly. “I hope you have a good evening, Ray.”

He gave you a nod and what looked like a hint of a smile. “You as well.”

You were a bundle of nerves as you went into your building. You were close to having time to yourself, but Bucky was still going up to your apartment since he insisted on carrying everything. The elevator ride up was comfortably silent, but you saw the tension in his body once you got to your floor. He really didn’t want to let you go for a day.

“Thank you again for the books and the clothes,” you said, getting your keys out as he followed closely. He was practically breathing down your neck. “You can just leave everything in the entryway.”

He hummed, stepping inside once you unlocked the door. “You don’t want me in your bedroom?” he guessed.

“I think we’ve had enough excitement for today,” you said. Between kissing you in the shop and his car, you wouldn’t risk it.

He carefully set the books and garments down before he turned to you. In an instant, your back was against the wall and the sound you made muffled by his mouth. He moaned against your lips when you didn’t turn your head away, but you shoved his chest to get him away. You really thought he wouldn’t push anymore tonight. He promised. He…

He stopped.

He pulled back, his breathing ragged and a glazed look in his eyes. “I’m not a monster. I’m not,” he whispered, rubbing a hand over his face. You braced yourself against the wall as he turned to leave, pausing to look over his shoulder. “I’ve just never wanted or needed anyone like you. I’m… I’m trying.”

“I know you are,” you whispered. And he wanted you to want and need him, too.

He smiled sadly and you almost reached out to soothe him, but you refrained. “Enjoy your day tomorrow,” he said.

The door shut before you could respond, leaving you in the silence of your apartment. A minute or two passed before you went to your room. Uncaring of the bugs around your place, you began to pack a few things in a tote bag with tears in your eyes. You wouldn’t leave tonight, but you’d be prepared if you wanted to go tomorrow. Who were you kidding, would you leave at all?

You blinked the tears away when you caught the photo of you and your friends on the dresser. It was foolish to think of escaping if it meant risking something happening to your loved ones. Addison and Brady. Dana. Your other friends. Mrs. Crandle. In the end, you would have to stay for them. Your life for their safety and continued happiness.

A small price to pay.

Curling up on your bed next to the bag, you whispered, “Once again, you win.”

Would luck ever be on your side when it came to him?

There were no texts from Bucky when you woke up the next morning. It felt… oddly quiet, but you weren’t sure if that was a relief or something you didn’t want to think about. Nothing was out of place in your apartment, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were still being watched thanks to the bugs. There were no gifts outside of your door. No breakfast. Just the quiet of your own thoughts as you went about your morning routine.

You smiled as you left the apartment, but it felt different today. Somehow lighter. It was as though normalcy wasn’t a burden, but a chance to breathe, to exist without your new “boyfriend” pulling the strings. The crisp morning air felt welcoming, and the walk to your favorite cafe was like a promise that today you could simply enjoy the time you had. The rich scents of coffee and pastries greeted you like an old friend, and for the first time in days, you felt a flicker of something close to peace.

“Most important meal of the day.”

You tried to push Bucky and his haunting blue eyes from your thoughts, but his absence lingered like a shadow you couldn’t chase away. He still followed you. Today wasn’t a day for lingering on what could happen tomorrow. Today was about you and small steps, about finding comfort in simple moments, and allowing yourself to breathe without the weight of uncertainty. And kindness to a stranger seemed like a good place to start.

“I’d like to pay for the person behind me,” you said.

"Thank you so much. You didn’t have to do that," the woman said, her surprise softening into a genuine smile. Something in her tone felt warm, like the simple exchange was more than just about paying for her coffee and pastry. It felt like a shared understanding, a reminder that kindness still mattered, and that it could still find its place in a world that often felt too heavy.

You couldn’t help but smile a little wider. “I wanted to,” you said, taking your to-go bag. You were still capable of offering kindness and still held the belief that it could make a difference, even in small ways. “Have a great day.”

The next stop was the flower shop once you finished your treat. You carefully selected a variety of flowers so you could make a nice arrangement at home. You were far from sad, but it would brighten up your mood more. Working with flowers always gave you a burst of happiness.

Once you were back at your apartment, with no one waiting for you, you got to work. Humming, you cut and prepped the flowers and selected a wide, simple vase. Once you had the grid of tape on, you added the greenery, focal flowers, and filler flowers. You loved the balance and harmony it presented once finished. It was also beautiful.

You snapped a photo of the colorful arrangement and sent it to the girl group chat. “What do we think?”

Addison was the first to respond. “Gorgeous! Seriously, how do you do that? I can’t wait to see what you do for my wedding!”

Dana responded next. “Why are you not running your own shop? Mrs. Crandle is sweet, but you should be in charge.”

You giggled when Gina asked, “Can you please tell me how to keep flowers alive? I’m hopeless.” with just about everyone reacting with a finger pointing up.

“You also appreciate Words of Affirmation, even if compliments make you feel uncertain because you sometimes feel overlooked.”

You hugged your phone to your chest as Bucky’s voice echoed in your mind. The praise from your friends was warm and you felt seen, but a part of you couldn’t help but wonder if you were seeking validation. Did you need them to remind you that you were good at something? Or was it just that you didn’t want to feel invisible, even in this small corner of your world?

“Love you ladies. Can’t wait for Saturday.”

It was true. You loved them and always would. With the thought of the upcoming weekend and enjoying the time together, your doubt was silenced.

There were still no texts from Bucky as you wrapped up the morning. Things felt normal. It was almost too normal. You felt like you were still holding your breath and looking over your shoulder when you left your place again to head to the bookstore, expecting Bucky to block your path or suddenly show up.

It was silly to visit the bookstore considering you were just there and Bucky bought you a bunch of books. Like the cafe, it was another sense of comfort. You even spotted a new book you previously overlooked. It was a perfect novel to add to your collection.

“Reading has always been a hobby of mine. I even have first editions of some of my favorite books.”

Had Bucky carved out a place for himself so deep in your core that everything went back to him? Was this how he went about his day? Did he see something or do something and his mind just went to you? How did one function when someone else constantly invaded their thoughts?

“Hi. Is Marc working today?” you asked once you were at the counter. You wanted to see with your own eyes that he was okay.

“No, he isn’t, but he’ll be in tomorrow.”

“Oh, okay,” you said, stopping the associate before she bagged the book. Maybe you could find an excuse to go back or call to talk to him. “I’ll just put that in my bag, thanks.”

The weather had warmed up enough that you could go to the park with your new book in hand. Grabbing a seat on an empty bench, you took a moment to appreciate the landscape. It was one of the brightest spots in the city. You sometimes pictured having a picnic date there, looking up at the sky and seeing what shapes the clouds made.

“One day,” you smiled to yourself, getting started on your book.

You were only about one chapter in when a man’s voice jolted you from the pages. “Excuse me, miss. Is this seat available?” You glanced up to find a tall man in a turtleneck and long trench coat standing over you with a charming smile. Was he wearing purple gloves? “My apologies, I didn't mean to startle you.”

“It’s okay.” You nodded to the empty spot. “Feel free.”

“Thank you.” He sat down, his eyes on you as you tried to go back to your book. “Beautiful day, isn't it?”

“It is,” you agreed, turning a page in the hopes he’d get the hint. You didn’t want to be rude by not conversing, but you were trying to read.

“And it’s nice to finally meet the lady who has James Buchanan Barnes so enamored.”

Your heart thudded in your chest, turning to face him. He had a knowing smile on his face, like he knew you were either afraid or worried. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?”

“I don't believe you do. How rude of me to assume.” He extended a gloved hand toward you. “Helmut Zemo. James and I work together on occasion.”

“Nice to meet you.” You shook his hand, but didn't let it linger. Something about him put you on edge, a different sort of edge than Bucky. “I don't hear many people call him James.”

“He’s not particularly fond of it. He much prefers for people to call him Bucky.”

That said something about their relationship if the man didn't respect Bucky’s preferred name. “Okay, Mr. Zemo. Is there something I can help you with?” You couldn't imagine Bucky sending this man to speak to you. “And, I’m sorry, how did you know where to find me?”

He shrugged a bit. “I may have bribed someone or two. Nothing for you to trouble yourself with.”

Your stomach plummeted. What was wrong with these men? “You sound like Bucky,” you muttered. No wonder they worked together sometimes, if he was telling the truth. “And if you’re bribing people just to get close to me, I think I have the right to know exactly who you spoke to.”

“As I said, it’s nothing for you to trouble yourself with.”

You looked around. There were others at the park, but no one paid any attention to you. What would happen if you screamed? “What do you want from me?” you asked. Was this one of the things Bucky meant when he said it wasn’t safe for you?

He held his hands up. “I mean you no harm. I just wanted to see you face-to-face since I didn't receive an invitation from James to meet you at his club. I’m sure it… slipped his mind,” he said with a bitter smile that had you shifting away from him. “I must say, you don't strike me as the type to fall for a murderer.”

You swallowed a little. “A murderer?” Bucky had referred to himself as a monster who hurt and killed.

“Oh, yes. The blood of many stains his hands, don't you know. Alexander Pierce. Brock Rumlow. Jasper Sitwell. Howard Stark,” he ticked off names like he was listing ingredients for a recipe. “He even killed-”

“I think your time’s up.”

Both of you looked behind you to find Ray standing feet away. It was one of the first times you ever saw the stoic man look angry. “Ray?”

“Ah, Raymond!” Zemo smiled, pushing himself up from the bench. He didn’t look at all intimidated by Bucky’s bodyguard. “I was wondering which one of you would show up. Good to see you still have work.”

Ray blinked twice. “Indeed. And I’m sure you’ll hear from my boss very soon,” he said, walking around the bench to put space between you and the virtual stranger. “For now, you should go back to your side of the city and leave her be.”

“We were only talking.” Zemo held his hands up again. “You don't think I'd pose a threat to the property of James Barnes, do you?”

“I’m no one’s property. I'm a person,” you seethed, holding your head high. You were tired of everyone around you thinking of you as an object. “And I agree with Ray. You need to go. Now.”

“Such unexpected fire,” Zemo smiled, making your skin crawl. “I didn't mean to upset or offend you. I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon.”

Ray’s jaw clenched. “Walk away and don't look back at her,” he ordered.

Zemo glared at Ray, but walked away without another word, his jacket flowing in the light breeze.

You breathed properly again as Ray took a seat next to you. “Are you okay?” He shifted toward you when you nodded. “I’m so sorry he bothered you. He was supposed to be out of town.”

“Who is he? How did he know where to find me?” You narrowed your eyes at Ray and he didn't flinch under your gaze. Much scarier people stared him down. “And how did you know where to find me?”

“Zemo works with Bucky from time to time. He has his own club blocks away, Echo Scorpion. Lots of money and resources and far from being Bucky’s friend,” he explained, blinking twice again. “Boss wanted to make extra sure you were safe and he thought I was the best for the job.”

“What?” you asked over a whisper. Bucky and his fucking loopholes. “Have you been following me all day?”

“Yes,” he answered.

You slowly breathed in and out to remain calm about the fact that Bucky stayed away, but still had you followed. It didn’t calm you down. You were upset. So upset that you let out a shout of frustration loud enough that a few people looked your way, but no one stopped to check and make sure you were okay. Maybe they thought you were crazy. Maybe you were at this point.

Ray didn’t look at all surprised by your outburst. “Not to defend my boss, but he is keeping his promise by not contacting you himself if that is any consolation.”

“He still sent you, Ray. He can say all he wants that it’s for my safety and maybe it is, but it’s still a control freak move and he’s probably demanding that you give him every detail about my day,” you argued, shoving your book into your bag. “And today was going so well.”

“It still can.”

“You’re still going to follow me though.” With Zemo showing up, maybe it was for the best that Ray showed up. “That Zemo guy. Is he going to hurt me?”

“No,” Ray said with certainty. Zemo still wanted something though. Maybe he wanted to get under Bucky’s skin since he wasn't asked to meet you. “He knows that would start a war of sorts. Try not to worry about him. We’ll deal with him.”

“Start a war? You’ll deal with him? You speak so casually about violence because I assume it’s violence that’s intended,” you said as Ray looked in his lap. “He said Bucky is a murderer and he listed names. He killed those people, didn’t he?” you pressed, shuddering a bit when Ray didn’t deny it. God, he really was a killer. Why? For his own gain? “I need to sit down,” you said when your vision began to blur.

“You are sitting down,” he gently pointed out, scooting over and tenderly placing a hand on the back of your head. “Deep breaths. Put your head between your knees. It’ll help.”

You bent over, taking a few deep breaths like he instructed. “You said I can do this, but I don't know if I can, Ray. I’m not brave,” you said in a small voice.

Bucky didn't have anything to fear. He was a king who ruled his city and decided what to do with the peasants. You didn’t ask for him to entangle you in anything of his, the peasant that you were. You just wanted to survive at this point.

Ray surprised you by rubbing your back, your head starting to feel normal again. “Yes, you are. You just don't believe it because you’re not in your element,” he said, helping you sit up properly again after a minute. You did feel a bit better. “Try not to think about this and enjoy the rest of your day. You owe it to yourself to have some peace and relaxation.”

Glancing at your tote bag, you had to agree. You did owe it to yourself to have a bit of peace and relaxation. “Bucky asked me not to run or look for the bugs, but I can’t have complete peace today if I go back to my place for the night,” you said, glancing at the blonde beside you. “Is there anywhere I can stay where he won’t have direct eyes on me?”

Up until Zemo showed up, it was a normal day. A good day. You wanted that to continue.

Ray thought it over. “There’s a hotel not far from here, The Red Room. We can get you a suite for the night. I will warn you before you ask, the manager has worked with Bucky before.” He stopped you before you could get up and leave. “But she won’t breathe a word to him about anything you do. Her staff is very discreet.”

You weren’t sure whether to believe him or not. At the end of the day, he worked with Bucky and his loyalty remained with him. “Why The Red Room and not just another hotel?”

“Because it’s safe there,” he said.

You sighed and slowly got to your feet. It wasn’t getting away, but it was a small win and something told you to trust Ray. “Before we go, is Bucky doing okay today?” Part of you was curious.

Ray shook his head. “He’s in a mood and he misses you,” he replied. You pushed the guilt away. Bucky had to learn to handle time apart. “Shall we go? Are you okay to walk?”

“I’m fine. Just lead the way,” you answered.

Spending time in a hotel suite would relax you. It would give you time to read your book. And it wasn't like Bucky would show up and ambush you.

Right?

And Zemo has entered the picture. What will Bucky do when he finds out he made contact with his girl? Is Ray really looking out for you? Will anything happen at the hotel or will our girl get the rest she more than deserves? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[ashychangeling]

Recent commission piece of Halsin stocking up for winter season! Feels so good to draw him again!

[ashychangeling]

omg this is so good, cant wait to read the next part. I would love to hear ari's side of things from when he bumps into her. This is a good pairing.

a kiss out of envy + ari 🤭

As promised, love, I give you...

frat boy!Ari Levinson x reader, one of my Valentine's Fics of 2024 (yes, you read that correctly, and no, I don't want to talk about it. 🥲 It's been a rough year lol.)

Summary: You and Ari want each other for all the wrong reasons.

Warnings (regarding both parts of the story) for drinking and partying, language, shitty behavior from...yeah everyone is a bit of a mess in this ngl (it's college), vaguely taboo mutual pining, and not-really cheating/implied cheating (applies to multiple people). This is an angsty weird fluffy sorta romance with an ambiguous ending because no one can communicate to save their f**king lives...BUT HEY! KISSES. MINORS DNI. There's plenty for younger readers on my Light Masterlist, but not here! WC 3.9k

A/N: This is the first half from Reader's perspective.

College is…predictable.

You spent the first weeks of your freshman year faking self-assurance you didn’t actually feel because confidence is sexy—or whatever the saying is,—and if you had to start from scratch, you might as well start from a place you’re proud of.

You made friends. You went out with your roommate. You stayed out late with lots of people you don’t know, and you smiled. Holy shit, did you smile…

The attempt to ‘get out there’ brought constant stress; you wanted to define your social life right off the bat, but good people are hard to find.

You officially decided you were looking in the wrong place for any good people while at the Lawn Party three-quarters of the way through your first semester.

Finally, you’d tried. You pulled out all the stops. You wore the nicer, trendier clothes that you splurged on for events just like this. You put on extra makeup, brought some with you in your little purse to touch it up, and when you smiled in the mirror seconds before running out of the dorm with your roomie, you really were self-assured. You felt sexy.

Though the party was outdoors, you stuck with just the one layer of a light-colored, flowy top, something whimsical and fun, something less useful and more useless, but that’s the idea of fashion, you suppose.

When the breeze caught the fabric, you imagined you were in a movie, one of those scenes where the heroine is about to get noticed by the man of her dreams.

That is exactly the opposite of what happened.

You’d been there all of half an hour, your roommate off to get drinks (after you whined and waited and stalled, hoping to strike up some conversation without partaking in the shared, bad decisions of the swath of 18-22 year olds meandering across a grass field behind the sports complex), when you heard a really loud, shrill laugh behind you and turned.

A red Solo cup crumpled against your boob and beer exploded across your chest, drenching your shirt and dripping grossly down your stomach.

“Wooooah,” the big guy still gripping shredded plastic drawled, eyes glued to your see-through blouse as it clung to your front. “Sorry.”

The girl who laughed with him put her hand up to her mouth. “Oh. My god.” Yet she just laughed more.

That was it. That was the sum total acknowledgment of your destroyed outfit and evaporated dignity.

“Ari,” someone called, startling your assailant to look away with his unresponsive, blown pupils.

You noticed a few drops of beer on his letterman jacket, so, sure, in comparison to your entire front half being soaked, that seemed a fair-and-equal trade for your embarrassment.

Then he was gone, the laughing girl following the asshole, Ari, and his idiot friends as they recapped the football game from…whenever.

You left the party once the waistband of your jeans felt soggy.

You spent longer washing your beer-sponge bra in the dorm sink than you did on the lawn.

Now you know college is a fucking joke. That party became a defining moment in your social life. You realized men—no, boys—like Ari will never care about you as you really are, and finally, you’ve accepted that you don’t want them to.

They don’t deserve to know you.

Sophomore year. Women’s Studies. Of all the fucking classes…

On day one Ari plopped down in the desk next to you.

He plopped because his whole left leg was strapped into a thick brace that kept it straight and jutted out, unable to fit in the tiny seat. He’s so tall his thonged foot tapped at yours beneath your own chair.

In your utter frustration and irritation (since the professor had already started talking), you automatically muttered an apology—to Ari, like some pushover—and moved your legs.

“Not your fault,” the footballer softly chuckled, taking another long moment to settle his crutches on the floor.

Were there no other seats?

You sighed and knew, you just knew down in your bones, that this would be a long damn semester. You also had every faith, however, that this fuck-boy classmate would do just about anything to stay in the course dedicated to his favorite pastime: women.

Though that was an assumption, Ari proved you right, and it sucked.

It took all your innate kindness and compassion not to spit on him. Honestly, the guy is just…dumb. When your eyes wandered every so often, you always found him looking confused, but he wouldn’t ask questions. Several times you caught him sneaking peeks at your notes. You just couldn’t take it.

He fell asleep in one class!

With the course final mere weeks away, the OCD part of your brain kicked in and shoved several sheets of important points you’d written down into his lap before he fully woke up.

His brace was off by then, but Ari still moved slowly.

Again, he looked so confused.

“I expect them back on Wednesday,” you said with a tight jaw, barely restraining the choice names you’d wanted to call him.

You’d been conditioned so heavily to be nice that you smiled at him. A small smile, yeah, but you smiled at the coddled asshole who did not deserve to pass the class. You should have let him fail. You should have let him lean harder on that damn scholarship.

Football held his dead-weight up this long; what’s a few more years?

Nearly the end of your Senior year. Off-campus. You’ve tried.

Socializing is a hit-and-miss game, and you’re learning that sometimes the miss happens slowly, without failed plays, with all the effort you could muster.

“Look, if we’re not doing anything here, then I’m going to the party. You coming? The house is two blocks away.”

Your boyfriend, Billy, stands with his apartment door open and his roommates calling to him from down the hall. He’s frustrated, you know that, but his frustration doesn’t negate the uneasy twist in your gut you get whenever he tries to take things further than making out.

Billy is perfect on paper. He studies hard, has a job already lined up for summer, is driven to achieve…and desperately wants to get laid.

He’s cute, totally adequate in that department, yet still, you can’t force yourself to let him touch you any more than absolutely necessary. You two have excellent conversations, multiple shared interests, and you have no words to describe your lack of…want. It eats you up right along with that twisting aversion to fuck him—because it is specific to him.

You don’t lack for interest in men, even if these are still boys around you. You’re attracted. Kinda. You thought attraction could grow from affection, too, but it hasn’t in months with Billy. It doesn’t make you think he lacks in some way; you feel lacking.

Maybe you lack sympathy. Maybe you lack understanding. Maybe you are just as superficial as those slutty girls you hate, the ones sure to be at this party. Maybe Billy thinks those girls will rub off on you if you’re surrounded.

There’s no one thing, no quantifiable logic; he just doesn’t do it for you. That won’t change.

Your relationship has an expiration date, and you feel it approaching.

Unsurprisingly, you can’t bring yourself to be mean and tell him an outright ‘no.’ It’s rude to say ‘I’m not attracted to you,’ right? You’re a nice person, and it’s not nice to hurt someone who hasn’t done anything wrong.

The heavy pain in your belly grows dense, but still, nothing changes.

The compulsion to be kind and quiet continues as you follow him out, tucking your hands under your arms so Billy won’t try to touch you, but it doesn’t matter. He walks a few feet ahead to keep up with his friends on the walk down the road to the Kappa house.

The two-story, plantation-style home is packed to the gills, making it hard to maneuver past the front door, and of course, the first person you recognize is a brother of the fraternity living there.

Ari Levinson stands halfway up the staircase overlooking the crowd like a king surveying his domain, hair grown long and a beard worthy of his fifth-year undergrad status. He’s wearing a button-up linen shirt as if he just walked in from the beach, perpetually sun-kissed skin glowing, the carefree blue fabric matching his eyes.

Asshole.

He probably showed up to his own damn house, cocked his head, and smirked.

“Y’all having a party?” he probably asked, chill as fuck.

Idiot…probably. You don’t know what happened to him after Women’s Studies, but you can’t imagine he got better. Nothing changes.

His queen-for-the-day leans into his ear, her chest covered only by a red bandana and not much below that hidden by a miniskirt.

What sluts. Both of them. They deserve each other.

He’s so sexy though.

His smile is bright while he doesn’t spill the contents of his red Solo cup on anyone beneath him on the stairs. Seems his drunk coordination has improved at the very least.

“Babe,” you hear yelled close to your ear, “take it!”

Billy shoves one of two cups he’s carrying into your hands and shouts to follow him. He wants to play beer pong in one of back rooms downstairs, a room with no space to stand and watch. There are no chairs, but Billy asks if want to play with him. In no reality would he think you’d answer ‘yes’ in this chaos, but then again, he hasn’t noticed you won’t take a sip of the drink you didn’t see poured either. That’s not even a trusting him problem; for all you someone else made the drinks for Billy, and then you absolutely don’t trust it.

If he can’t manage to notice your reticence, why should Billy care if you’re comfortable?

You yell back that you’re going to find a seat somewhere. Billy gets whisked away for the next partnered game, and relief washes over you.

The only open spot that isn’t a squeeze beside couples going at it in public is a bench underneath the cutout of the staircase. You take a detour to dump your cup in the crowded kitchen’s sink and sit alone for a while, people-watching, wondering vaguely about the king and queen above you on the steps.

Parties…are not all that fun when you don’t feel safe, welcome, or seen. College is predictable this way.

You’re not sure how much time passes before a light blue linen shirt invades your view.

Looking to your right, you don’t see anyone paying attention, and looking to your left you see a sloped wall.

He’s looking directly at you.

“Thirsty?” Ari asks casually, offering the only cup he carries.

You wave it off with a polite ‘no, thank you,’ even though that should be sketchier than your boyfriend getting you a drink.

Ari takes a huge gulp and shuffles his broad body onto the too-short edge of the bench beside you. He seems careful not to touch you or invade your space, the barest graze of a short-sleeve cuff brushing the skin of your upper arm.

Again, Ari tilts the cup toward you. “Jack and Coke,” he shrugs, lifting his eyebrows, “mostly Coke though. I’ve been here a while. You’re basically late.”

You can’t help but blurt, “you live here.”

“That is an astute observation, smartie pants,” he adds with a proud smile. Those, you imagine, might be the biggest words the guy knows.

You also imagine he wouldn’t drug himself with anything,, and worst case, Ari’s already much drunker than you.

You pluck the half-full Solo from his hand, your pinky running the length of his forefinger in the process, knuckles hard beneath callused skin, and take a small sip. He’s right about one thing; you can’t smell or taste any alcohol.

His smile softens. Your pinky tingles even after you return his drink.

“Where’s whats-his-face?” Ari scans the hall. “Probably getting you something better, huh?”

You can’t help but frown and sigh as he takes another swig of soda, pink lips nearly hidden beneath the hair of his beard, but you remember they are quite plump. He only had stubble in class two years ago. You shouldn’t be thinking about what those lips might feel like. Hell, you shouldn’t be sharing a drink with anyone because that’s more intimate than anything you’ve enjoyed doing with Billy recently.

Billy is pushy and inexperienced. Every time he goes to touch you, it reminds you that he’s desperate for it, but…not in a flattering way. It’s difficult to describe.

“Where’s your girlfriend?” you throw out loudly, keeping your guess silent. Perhaps hugging the toilet bowl?

Though a simple question, Ari looks somewhere between giddy and chided while contemplating his answer. He’s so dumb, poor thing. “Flying with the pigs,” he settles on.

“What?”

He repeats himself, and then, seeing your confusion, he leans closer to clarify, “she doesn’t exist. I don’t have a girlfriend.”

Ow, rough gig bandana girl. That’s a little harsh: being fobbed off mid-party. Although, you aren’t exactly replacing her. Ari is just talking to you. It doesn’t mean anything. He’s sitting beside you, only a little closer than Women’s Studies, sharing a sip of soda. That’s all.

“So, genius—”Ari elbows you gently, taking advantage to stay arm-to-arm this time “—how you been?”

You notice you’ve been shrinking against the wall and straighten as best you can without looking as if you’re pushing your boobs out.

“Fine. Just…busy with school work.”

Internally, you groan, hating to sound so boring and feeding into this idea you are nothing but a bookworm.

Ari swallows the last of his drink, and you watch as his adam’s apple bobs lewdly—at least, it should be considered lewd with how the motion leads your eye down to the matching dark chest hair peeking behind the shirt collar. He scrunches his nose when the bubbles hit the back of his palate.

“Good. You always seemed happy. Bet you’re top of our class.” He emphasizes the year because he should have graduated already. Originally, he was a year ahead, but then he took a red-shirt year while injured. Ari doesn’t appear to mind that’s something else you share.

You bite your lip and wonder if he’s baiting you. If there’s one thing you’ve heard consistently in your whole young adult life, it’s that you ‘look angry’ and could ‘benefit’ from smiling more.

“I’m…somewhere up there, yeah,” you allow.

He points over his other shoulder and shimmies the empty cup in front of him. “You want one? What’s your favorite?”

For the first time all night, what you want has been considered. Not only if you want a drink, but which one do you want. Such a small thing, and yet the twist in your stomach unfurls a little. The drink itself doesn’t matter; the thought does. That, and being comfortable near him.

“Whatever you’re having.”

Ari flashes that megawatt smile of his and says he’ll be back in a jiffy.

The true value of a beautiful idiot is you don’t have to be on edge. Your basic knowledge of any subject (save sports) would read as genius to a guy like him…which is also why it feels so unbelievable Ari’s choosing to hang in this corner with you. He’s friends with everyone. He could get anything from anybody here. It’s nice to be wanted, not needed.

He returns with two cups, one with a couple shots worth of Jack Daniels, the other full of CocaCola. He looks at you for approval, hesitating in case you want just plain soda, and then makes a huge show of his ‘mixing’ skills.

Absolute moron did not consider the carbonation exploding with every pour back and forth.

It’s a horrible mess of foam and splashing liquid. Both his hands are dripping and sticky, but you laugh freely by the end. You never thought you’d see the day Ari Levinson spilling a drink wouldn’t be triggering.

Not even a fleeting image of that ruined blouse crosses your mind while you weakly clinkthe plastic cups together. It’s the epitome of the college experience in your eyes. For once, you aren’t upset by that fact.

You keep smiling, wrinkling your nose at the fizz bursting on the back of your tongue. You can’t help it.

Ari is a happy drunk, and he starts talking, joking with you, tucked away in your own little bubble.

It’s the most you’ve ever heard him speak.

He’s self-deprecating about the same, drunken party behavior that you have watched him participate in for years, and yet you dismiss that as nothing, normal even, and unconsciously nudge closer to Ari, your side flush with his as you bend to see the person he’s bad-mouthing now.

He seems to like the irony in that and chuckles as he says someone over there is getting sloppy, lifting his Solo to his mouth with a dainty pinky raised in defiance. He’s a goofball. You haven’t been so relaxed with someone in…months.

Both drinks are finished quickly, and Ari offers to grab more.

The warm buzz humming beneath your skin tells you ‘yes,’ but your higher brain function steadfastly puts a foot down.

“I shouldn’t,” you mutter, sounding undecided.

He shrugs. For whatever reason, you appreciate that Ari isn’t pushing for anything from you, but that’s exactly what makes you want more from him. He stacks the empty cups and mentions walking you home. He could use some fresh air, he says.

“I should find Billy…”

Ari rolls his shoulders and thinks, his eyes follow suit, scraping his peripheral vision for an alternative that never presents. He stands up, arms akimbo, dramatically squinting to ‘think’ harder.

“He was wearing that red ball cap, right?”

“What?” You’ve never seen your boyfriend don a hat once but suddenly remember the pong partner who pulled him over. “No, that’s Leo,” you scream over the noise now that Ari is standing a few paces away. “Billy’s in, like, a neutral t-shirt.”

Ari smirks, scanning. “One beige Billy, coming up!”

Off he darts into the crowd, much faster than you’ve ever seen a drunk man move, and you skitter behind, realizing Ari stops at the kitchen only when you slam into his back.

He throws the empty cups into the trash and turns to the sink, washing his hands with dish soap, drying them on his shirt, leaving darker streaks of blue.

“Okay, not sticky,” Ari beams, “so now we go.”

Easily, naturally, his hand scoops up yours, and Ari leads you deftly through the throng.

He’s holding your hand. It’s damp and rough and cool and warm all at once. And you grasp it. You’re holding his hand back.

Though tall enough to see over most heads, Ari takes a good long while to notice everyone because they keep moving about. 

Pointing with your still-joined hands, you shout to check the beer pong room, but no Billy.

You two amble through the entire lower floor, stopped several times by people greeting Ari, and he introduces you automatically. You hope none of these other drunk frat boys remembers seeing you hold his hand while asking where your damn boyfriend is.

Without fail, each friend asks if you two are together, and to his credit, Ari quickly changes to “have you seen a guy…” and describes Billy.

“Dunno, man. Check upstairs?”

Ari thanks them and glances at you, a look of defeat creasing his forehead.

He drums his free fingers on the banister. He hesitates.

“Wait here?” he offers but drops your hand and doesn’t pause for your reply.

Using a football drill tactic, Ari bolts expertly up the stairs while you get waylaid by some girls holding up a selfie-stick to make a video. They bitch at the angle, ignoring you, and have to reshoot. You can’t get past.

Yelling.

Suddenly, there’s lots of yelling coming from the packed second floor and a door slams. Half the people in the stairway and hall look up.

More crashing and thudding noises ring out.

With everyone frozen, you shove your way through.

“What the fuck,” you hear just as some guy backs away, almost knocking you down. “Who the hell do you think you are, man?”

Your legs take you inside though your heart lodges in your throat.

Ari’s got Billy pinned over a wrecked desk on the other side of the room while the girl with the bandana top stands by a bed, pulling down her mini skirt. She snaps for Ari to mind his own business, and Ari immediately shoots a glare at her over his shoulder, keeping Billy pinned beneath him.

“Beks, for fuck’s sake,” Ari starts, but quickly, the guy who pushed you in the hall cusses her out louder than anyone else.

“Serves you right for getting back with Erin,” Bandana Girl snaps.

“Eat shit, Rebekah. You don’t actually care!”

What…is going on? These people are nuts.

At least four more bodies squeeze through the door, all looking blazing-mad while you get pushed farther into the suffocating room. You’re bewildered and overwhelmed.

Blocker Guy lunges forward and shoves Ari off of Billy.

Your hands are up, claiming space to breathe, but there’s way too much going on. No one—not even you—can hear your voice crying to be let out.

Funny thing is, you aren’t crying for Billy to help you. Only after you yell for Ari does your brain process that your boyfriend’s fly is down, his jeans unbuttoned, too.

A large, rough hand grabs your wrist and yanks you to the door, barreling you both through the crowd to another room down the hall. It’s surreal to see the group descend on the fight like moths to a flame, drawn to watch what horrible thing these students will do next.

Ari man-handles you inside without hitting a light switch. It’s pitch black, but the closed door at your back muffles only a fraction of the commotion.

From the other side, you hear Billy calling your name, but Ari’s soft, panting breath steals your focus as it gusts across your neck.

His lips shift close to your ear.

“Don’t do it, smartie,” he whispers. “Leave him.”

The stale smell of beer wafts forward when you lean farther into that letterman jacket Ari keeps prominently hung. You feel the ribs of the cuffs against your bare arms until, suddenly, it’s the ridges of Ari’s rough fingers ghosting over your skin.

If Billy’s still screaming, you can’t tell. Your heart thunders in your chest as the hot breath rolling over you moves up your neck and over your jaw.

He’s right there.

He’s right there. He’s drunk. He’s stupid. He doesn’t matter. You don’t matter to him. It’ll never work and it doesn’t have to. This could be so simple.

You envy how easy this is for him, always another girl around the corner, in the next room, who will want him, but you can’t bring yourself to feel bad about wanting to use him. He’s right there, willingly, single or not, sober or not, and so you grip the soft linen of his shirt collar and tug him straight to you.

It doesn’t matter how sloppy you are, how shy or how forceful you get, because you live like him in this moment.

Ari doesn’t care about anything. Self-assured. Confident. Sexy. Popular. He doesn’t have to care.

Now, neither do you.

[Next Part]

⬅️ Steve Rogers and a kiss where it hurts

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[ashychangeling]

omg so good. It's truly sinister where this cliffhanger stopped tho lol.

Unexpected Request

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4,235 Summary: As much as you wanted to kick your own ass for it, you couldn't help but be drawn to Steve. Warnings: A/B/O AU. Explicit language. Mild sexual content. A fucked up verse where omegas are treated more like pets than people. Sassy, emotionally constipated!omega. Doctor!Steve. Lots of feels. Reference to a scar and past physical abuse. Omega in heat.

A/N: Eeeep, so excited to share PT!Steve’s next part with you! If you’re new here, be sure to read their previous installments linked in the masterlist below. Enjoy! ❤️

POUND TOWN MASTERLIST

In the month or so that followed that first night at Steve’s apartment, the two of you had fallen into a new routine together. 

Steve, being the stealth shit that you were learning him to be, no longer left food and supplies for you outside on his fire escape. 

He left everything inside for you, as well as leaving his living room window open just enough that you could easily get inside when he was at work or otherwise out. 

At first, you had scoffed at Steve’s sheer stupidity. 

The idea of him leaving his apartment accessible to a near stranger…it was just outright dumb.

But the longer you had shivered out on his fire escape the first day he had changed up the norm, scowling at the open window and the dark, empty apartment beyond that beckoned to you, you had felt something other than anger and annoyance…

A teeny, tiny part of you–most likely your stupidly naive inner omega–had felt…hopeful.

Touched, even. 

Steve’s actions were so far above and beyond what anyone had ever done for you in your entire life. 

On the one hand, the pessimistic part of you kept returning to Steve to prove your suspicion - that he would get bored of you, of helping you especially, and eventually turn his back on you like everyone else in your life had done.

And yet, you always found Steve’s home awaiting your arrival, and it had been so long since you had real shelter, since you felt safe, since you wanted in a way that didn’t make your stomach churn–that felt thrilling–that you kept returning day after day. 

You just weren’t able to help it and wanted to kick your own ass for being so reliant on another person, on another alpha, of all people.

When you thought about it all too much, your pessimism tended to veer into panic, so you tried to just ignore all the thoughts–and fears–riddling your brain and instead simply take advantage of Steve’s kindness for as long as it was available to you. 

Because the reality was, he’d get sick of giving you handouts, and you’d be back on the streets–all on your own–and struggling to survive in no time at all.

So you might as well take what you could get for as long as you could get it.

Which is why you were currently freshly showered and wearing a clean pair of Steve’s oversized clothes, curled up on his sofa and enjoying the warmth of his heated apartment as you read an actual book for the first time in ages. 

Steve found you just like that a little while later, when he arrived home from work and smiled softly at your presence as he closed the front door behind him and set down his things. 

Before he could even greet you, you were sassing him, “Do you know how easily I could steal from you, Hercules? Strip your apartment bare to make some quick cash? And you’d just be asking for it too, leaving your window open for a complete stranger.”

Steve’s smile was easy as he joined you in the living room. “I think you’re worth the risk.”

His words, and the weight of them–the fact that Steve thought you worth anything at all–momentarily struck you dumb. Then you blurted something you had only ever felt and thought but never spoke aloud before, “I’m not worth anything.”

Steve’s smile immediately fell, his brows furrowing in concern–in sadness–as he replied, “That’s not true at all.” 

Something about the way he was looking at you–so warm and soft and wanting–had your face igniting with the kind of heat that made your belly swoop in response. When your gaze met Steve’s head on, you could see how highly he thought of you shining in the deep blue pools of his eyes. 

His lips parted, and you knew that he was about to say something meaningful, something that might even change things between you, and fear reverberated through your entire being, making you go on the offensive before he could utter a single word. 

“Are you sure you’re a doctor, because you seem pretty dumb,” you scoffed, guiding the conversation back to its origin point and why you were even here in the first place. 

You quickly looked away from Steve’s knowing gaze, fixing your eyes on the book in your hands and not seeing a solitary word on either of the pages before you as the large alpha sat down on the other side of the sofa with a quiet laugh.

“That’s fair actually,” Steve hummed, sighing tiredly as he sank back in his seat. “My ma always used to say that when I prioritized my feelings over my logic, it made me dumb as a bag of bricks.”

You didn’t look at him directly as you snorted in amusement and barely suppressed a cackle, but you could see from the corner of your eye the way Steve rested his head on the back of the sofa, looking exhausted as his eyes fluttered shut for a moment. 

It was instant, how your inner omega perked up, absolutely dying to comfort the handsome, gentle alpha who so obviously needed in that moment.

Reciprocate all of his kindness and caretaking in some small way. 

Huffing quietly, you marked your page in the book and set it aside, stamping down the stupid, biological urges stirring within you. 

“What’s wrong with you?” you snapped, eyes narrowed as Steve blinked and rolled his head your way. 

“M’just tired,” he murmured. “I worked a double.”

“See, now your job is taking advantage of your kindness, too. It’s time for you to wise up and stop being a doormat, it’s embarrassing.”

Instead of being angered by your insult, Steve’s lips curled into an amused grin. “I’m happy you’re here.”

When you just blinked stupidly, mouth gaping because you were not expecting that response, of all responses, Steve chuckled, sighing again as he sat up straight. 

“Is it okay if we just order dinner tonight? I’m too tired to cook.”

Noticing the dark shadows beneath Steve’s eyes, you bit back another sassy response, shrugging instead. “Whatever.”

Fishing his phone from his back pocket, Steve tapped and scrolled before handing it to you. “It’s a food delivery app, pick where you want to order from and what you want, and then I’ll pick my own meal once I’m out of the shower.” He rose to his feet. “I won’t be long,” he promised, lips twitching as he watched the way you so carefully cradled his phone in your hands as you frowned down at it. 

You just hmphed quietly, waiting until Steve’s back was turned as he moved toward the hallway to look up and stare after him. 

Once again, you found yourself bowled over by how easily and thoroughly he trusted you, wanted to take care of you, and how happy it seemed to make him. 

And how not angry and quite the opposite of grumpy it made you in return, damnit.

A little while later, your belly was pleasantly full from your takeout, and your eyes were starting to droop as you watched the movie Steve had encouraged you to pick for the both of you. 

Speaking of said alpha…

You glanced over to the opposite end of the sofa to find Steve completely passed out, his head tipped down, chin nearly touching his chest, and his arms crossed as he slept. 

It was the way his big body was slightly angled toward you that had something inside of you swooping and fluttering. It was like he sought you out even in sleep, when all of his defenses were down.

Steve wanted you even when he wasn’t consciously aware of it, and that thought had your insides fluttering wildly some more as your inner omega reveled in happiness. 

You didn’t even realize what you were doing as you reached for the TV remote and turned the volume down, wanting to preserve Steve’s rest.

You just watched him for a moment, assaulted by all of these feelings you couldn’t even name the longer you stared at Steve. Swallowing hard, you ignored the sudden lump in your throat and the way your heart rate picked up as you inched closer to him, keeping your movements careful as not to disturb him. 

Breathing in deeply, your entire body lit up as Steve’s alpha scent filled your nose. You tried your best to ignore the way your pussy fluttered in response, the way it seemed like each and every nerve ending in your body crackled with electricity as you basked in Steve’s presence.

Your gaze was greedy and eager as it flickered over his beautiful face, drinking in his flawless skin, the light dusting of freckles across his nose and cheeks, just how full and tempting his lips were. 

A hank of his golden blonde hair hung out of place over his forehead, and your trembling fingers were reaching for it before your brain even caught up to your intention. 

Your breath hitched as your fingers touched Steve’s soft hair, and you oh so carefully tucked it into place, the hot burn of tears lingering at the back of your eyes as something else rose up within you, something causing you to recoil and want to flee altogether–

Terror.

It scared you how much Steve made you feel, the way he made you want and yearn for the first time in so very, very long. 

The thing that terrified you most of all was how attached you were getting to Steve. How the idea of all of this just being taken away in the blink of an eye–him deciding to retract his kindness and his attention, his obvious desire for you–it made your stomach churn violently. 

It made you want to curl up and cry for the first time in God knows how long.

Shuddering, you inhaled long and slow, trying your best to ignore the way your inner omega was staunchly against the idea of Steve doing any of those things, of him so easily disposing of you. Reminding you how he had done nothing but show you kindness and grace over and over and over again.

Sniffling, you shook yourself, desperately needing some fresh air, some space, to think and recalibrate and just take a break from Steve and all of these new feelings he had surging within you.

Yet as firm as you were on your need to leave and get away for a little while, you found yourself lingering, looming over Steve as he continued to sleep on the sofa, completely unaware of you and your turmoil.

And that it all stemmed from him.

Again, you found yourself moving before your brain caught up with your body, and it was like an outer body experience as you watched yourself tug the throw blanket from the nearby armchair and carefully drape it over Steve’s large frame.

He slightly shifted in his sleep, sighing in content before just the hint of an alpha purr rumbled in his chest as he got a whiff of your scent, and you all but bolted toward the cracked window to get away from him and his response to you.

As you eased the window up, grateful for the silence that accompanied your actions, your heart hammered away, your chest clenching tightly as you stole one final, longing look at Steve before ducking outside and out into the cold, dark night, alone.

The next day, when Steve stepped inside his apartment after running some errands and found it empty, the same disappointment he had felt that morning when he awoke to find you gone rose within him once more. 

Because the truth was, he really missed you when you were gone.

Steve knew that he was becoming extremely attached to you, irrevocably so. Those moments when he found you awaiting him at home after a long, exhausting day at work, or when you shimmied your way inside his living room at night to join him in watching mindless TV - it was like his whole world instantly lit up.

Because of you.

So in those moments without you, his world seemed just a little bit darker, his mood just a little bit duller. As much as Steve knew it was likely a fleeting thing–you being here and visiting him–he was so greedy for each and every second of it. 

Sighing, he moved into his kitchen and began to put away his groceries. He was so absorbed in the task at hand, at trying not to think about you and yearn for you–especially since you weren’t even close to being his omega–that Steve didn’t even realize you had stolen into his apartment from the fire escape until your voice was sounding from beside him and making him jump in surprise. 

“What’s for dinner tonight, Hercules?”

Steve’s startled gaze shot to you, and the way your face positively lit up with deviant glee at having snuck up on him and causing such a reaction had you giggling. 

And then you immediately scowled at him, slapping a hand over your mouth to stop any more of those stupid sounds from escaping as your now thoroughly unamused gaze bored into him. 

“I didn’t hear you come in,” Steve admitted, huffing a laugh as he finished putting the final few items in the fridge. 

“Obviously,” you deadpanned, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned back against the kitchen counter and shot him an expectant look. 

It took Steve a moment to remember your original question, especially with the way he could smell your combined scents on his hoodie that you were wearing. His gaze lingered on you, on how his sweatshirt draped over your much smaller frame. 

At how comfortable you looked in it, in his clothes.

Nostrils flaring as he took a deep breath that had him biting back a groan–and his inner alpha stirring with interest–Steve shook himself. “Uh, I was going to make spaghetti. Is that okay?”

“It’ll do,” you sniffed, trying to look unimpressed at the very same moment your stomach growled loudly.

As your features twisted with annoyance and you glared down at your stomach–the stupid betrayer–Steve softly smiled at you, reaching past you to the recently  replenished fruit bowl and grabbing an apple before holding it out to you. 

You eyed it, lips tilting into a smirk as you snatched it from his grip. “Don’t mind if I do. One of these a day keeps you away, right?” Your eyes sparkled at him as you took a bite, chewing slowly as Steve’s gaze dipped to wear some stray apple juice ran down your chin.

Before he could stop himself, he reached out, thumbing up the streak of apple juice before lifting his thumb to his mouth and sucking the juice off his skin. His eyes danced at the way your gaze went wide and you went very, very still, save for the hitch to your breath as you watched him. 

Something about your reaction had him feeling bold, and Steve grinned at you, his words teasing as he hummed, “I don’t think that’s what you actually want, omega.”

Then he winked at you, nearly laughing as you squawked in offense at his audacity, before he turned toward the cabinets and began to gather the dinner ingredients needed to cook for you both.

Like many other nights before this, post dinner found both you and Steve on the living room sofa, half-watching some TV show as you tried not to focus too much on each other’s presence.

Well, tried not to be too obvious about it anyway. 

Feeling squirmier than usual after that apple incident earlier, you didn’t even realize you had started to play with the sleeve of your hoodie, pushing it up until your fingers found the familiar patch of raised skin along your inner wrist.

Your touch mindlessly strayed along the ugly scar for a beat, and then it was like you were suddenly hyper aware of Steve’s presence, and the way he was staring at your scar with a troubled expression twisting his handsome features. 

Feeling a wave of shame wash over you, you quickly yanked down your sleeve, covering your scar before you hugged yourself tightly, unconsciously cradling your wrist against your chest.

“What happened?” Steve asked, his voice quiet as he turned his full attention to you.

You glared over at him, but you couldn’t even really be mad at him, not with how gently he was watching you. It was the fact that there was more concern–not morbid curiosity–gleaming in Steve’s eyes that had you finally, reluctantly answering.

“Just something and someone I’d rather forget.”

There was a moment of long, heavy silence, where Steve just watched you with a look so penetrating that you could feel it down to your very bones, before his quiet voice washed over you.

“You had an alpha?” he guessed.

You flinched at the mere reminder, your stomach twisting violently as he flashed through your mind. 

Just the memory alone had your omega scent souring with fear and disgust, and you shuddered, trying to shove all of that down deep, burying the horrific memories in the darkest depths of your soul, where they belonged.

“He hurt you?” Steve asked, shifting closer.

You glanced over at him, unable to meet his gaze but watching the way his big hands curled into fists atop his thighs. You could tell he was itching to move closer, to comfort you, but Steve knew you well enough by now to know not to do that at all.

That knowing and respect for you–the way he prioritized your want over his–had you giving him an actual answer, again.

“Who hasn’t?” you shrugged, confirming Steve’s suspicions. 

“I never would.” His tone was so vehemently earnest that you couldn’t help but finally meet Steve’s gaze.

His eyes were fixed on you, shining with a myriad of emotions: horror on your behalf, anger at your old alpha, the gentlest of concern for you, and the ardent need to take care of you, to keep you safe.

Your belly fluttered to be on the receiving end of that look, your lips curling at the corners as you hummed, “I almost believe you.”

“I’d really like to hurt your former alpha though,” Steve gritted. “Omegas are a gift to be cherished and protected, it seems like he needs to learn that lesson the hard way.”

You couldn’t help but grin at Steve’s scowl, especially since you so rarely got to see it. “You know what? I’d genuinely love to see that. Pretty sure you could break him in half with your bare hands, Hercules.”

Some of the ire bled from Steve’s features at the playfulness to your tone, at the obvious way in which you were trying to keep things light and move away from this topic of conversation. 

Steve followed your lead, lips tilting into a wry smile as he huffed a laugh. Shaking his head, he replied, “That sounds more like your kinda move, trouble.”

Preening at his response–and the new pet name that went along with it–you couldn’t stifle your grin as you chirped, “Why thank you.”

As was his new norm, Steve was already looking forward to hopefully seeing you before he even cleared the first floor of his apartment building. 

Since it was a Friday, and he had the entire weekend off, he was hoping he'd be able to talk you into staying a little later than usual, maybe even bunking in the guest room to keep you from sleeping outside in the cold. 

Of course he’d made that offer a handful of times already, and you never took him up on it, but you seemed to be growing more comfortable around him–more open with him, too–so Steve hoped that maybe, one day, you would.

It sure would set his mind at ease to know you weren’t out on the street all night long, fending for yourself.

Steve was mulling over how to frame the offer that night when he unlocked his front door and stepped inside his apartment, then instantly froze.

Because his home was flooded with the heavy scent of a desperate omega in heat.

And not just any omega, but you.

The tantalizing smell was so thick that Steve swore he could taste it on his tongue. Your usual scent of crisp apples was at the forefront of the aroma, but now it was tinged with a spicy musk that had Steve’s inner alpha instantly alert and itching to provide.

Steve carefully set down his duffle bag and keys, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it aside as he moved deeper into his apartment. 

The living room was empty, but he noticed the throw blanket wasn’t on the armchair, and a few of the throw pillows were missing from the sofa as well. Following your scent down the short hallway, he eventually found you in his bedroom, like he expected, as that was where his scent was strongest.

You had arranged his king-sized bed into a makeshift nest, using the pillows and blanket from the living room to add to the pile. You were curled up in the middle of it all, wearing one of Steve’s old college t-shirts as you clutched your stomach in agony. 

The moment Steve’s alpha scent registered in your brain, your head shot up, your eyes dark with lust and need and your face shining with a sheen of sweat as you whined, “Finally.”

“How long have you been here waiting for me, and suffering?” Steve frowned, immediately moving closer as the need to tend to you consumed him.

“Long enough,” you huffed. Weakly pushing yourself up into a sit, you gritted your teeth through another intense wave of painful need before you explained, “I used to have a lady from a local clinic who was getting me suppressants, but that fell through, and I ran out, and then my heat hit out of nowhere, and it’s totally your fault–”

“My fault?” Steve asked, eyebrows shooting up as guilt and happiness warred within him.

Because it wasn’t unusual for heats and ruts to be triggered by courting type situations or the like.

And although Steve hadn’t been blatantly courting you in the traditional sense–because he knew that would drive you away more than anything–it was obvious that the two of you were drawn to each other and there was something there, something special.

You must have been able to smell the happiness on his scent, your own senses heightened, and you gave him the stink eye in response.

“And you came here once your heat hit?” Steve murmured, unable to fully suppress his smile.

“Oh god, can you stop fucking fishing for labels and declarations right now, and just fuck me into a coma so I’m not suffering over here?” you hissed.

Steve’s eyes widened–comically so–and you couldn’t help but laugh before it turned into a groan of pain as you doubled over, panting through it.

“Okay,” Steve shook himself, moving closer and smoothing a hand over your head as you whined in agony. “You’re okay, omega, I’ve got you.” He swallowed, hesitant still despite your bluntness as his hand moved to cradle your sweaty cheek and you surprisingly leaned into his gentle touch. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

You rolled your eyes, huffing out a terse, “Don’t make me beg, because we both know I won’t.”

“I just…don’t want to take advantage of you,” Steve fretted, crouching down beside the bed so he could meet your gaze at your level. 

“It’s just sex, Steve,” you scoffed, the slight tremble to your voice belying your words. “And you were the one who was so eager to help me in the first place,” you glared at him for his kindness, like your biological reaction was his fault. “Well, guess what, buddy? It looks like your handouts have leveled up, lucky you.”

Steve couldn’t help but crack a grin. “Christ, you’re something else.”

“Yeah, and I’m also dying over here, so I need you to alpha up, get naked, and knot me already.”

Your demand–and the unapologetic nature of your need, for him–had a low-timbered growl rumbling through Steve’s chest. When you chirped in response, your breath hitching to boot, his nostrils flared and then he was slowly rising to his full, looming height. 

“Alright, omega, if this is what you really want,” he murmured, tugging his button up from where it was tucked into his pants before starting to unbutton it.

“It is,” you answered, too mesmerized by the glimpses of Steve’s muscular chest that you were getting right now to be embarrassed by the breathiness of your voice. “It’s what I need.”

Steve shrugged off his shirt, his big hands dropping to undo his belt. “Then present for me, omega, and I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of you the way you deserve.”

Swallowing hard as your heart began to hammer in anticipation, and your cunt clenched around nothing, you rose up onto your knees, shamelessly tugging Steve’s t-shirt over your head and flinging it away. 

Then you turned, dropping onto your hands and knees, and for the first time in years, you presented for an alpha.

And for the first time ever, you were excited to do so.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! THESE TWO!!!!!! 

Please take a moment to drop me a reblog or comment with your feedback!! I am so excited to see what you think about this part! Thank you for reading! ❤️

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Normalize this response

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THIS IS KILLING ME