#Peggy is better than us all

[kikixreverie]

Your boys

Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x Female reader

Summary - The war has been a brutal reality check for you in more ways than one, the first being that life is far more fragile than you thought, and the second that you were deeply in love with not one… but both of your best friends.

Word count - 8k

Warnings - (18+) Smut, threesome, oral sex, handjob, mentions of war and homophobia.

A/N - Hi, im still here kinda. Suffered a pretty rough, year long writers block and then was finally able to edit this one shot I wrote ages ago. I hope you enjoy it and all its filth.

________________________________

The half-empty bar rings with laughter and the clinking of glasses as its patrons drown out their sorrows with liquor, a temporary haven for those seeking distraction from the heartlessness they've seen in the past few years. The smoke in the air was thick, but better than what you were used to, the scent of tobacco, not fire out on the field, though it lingers in your nose all the same. 

The music, a familiar jazz tune carries through that thickened air, paired with deep laughter from rowdy men trying to ignore the sickening sense of dread they all pretend not to feel. Your attention however, is divided. Humming softly to the tune you can only half remember, your focus stays fixed on him—Bucky Barnes, gazing from afar at his wide, mirthful grin, those blue eyes of his reflecting the low lighting of the bar as he sips at yet another beer. 

You watch as Steve walks over to rejoin them, more drinks in his hands which he passes to the surrounding men with a nod, which they each take from him, too distracted with their chatter to thank him. Bucky chuckles, shifting back from the group to say something to Steve, a sly grin gracing his lips, smirking as Steve laughs softly at his joke, sadly too far away for you to be in on it.

You get lost in the sight of the men you've known far longer than you haven't, and have seen sink into themselves more and more in recent years, weathered by war, and yet, beneath the surface, your heart can still manage to find a lesser problem to dwell on—feelings you never even asked for becoming even more known to you the more you watch them, both so pretty. They’d always been pretty.

"Come here often?" 

You sigh at the unexpected voice, an instinctual reaction at this point, and regretfully you looked away from the two men, staring down at your glass for a moment before you tilted your head to the left and eyed her with fake annoyance, staring deadpan at the mischievous smirk playing on her red lips. You both know she caught you staring.

You look down at your drink again, watching the amber liquid swirl in the glass as you lift it to take another sip and wince, "No, should I?" 

Her smirk grows wider, resting her elbow on the sticky bar top. She shrugs, "Depends what you're here for."

You pause for a few seconds, squinting at her as if flicking through the possible reasons to be in this dingy bar, other than an easy escape from the war outside. "Alcohol?" You ask, raising a brow. The only reason you were in this bar would be for Bucky and Steve. 

"Ah, well in that case, no. The beer here is watered-down and overpriced." She quips, clinking her glass with yours before taking the seat beside you.

"Oh, that explains it." You respond, sighing dramatically as you take a swig from your glass. Peggy hums softly, her fingertips drifting over the lip of her glass. You can feel her eyes on you, as usual, watching, assessing the situation, and you take a risky glance at her, slightly apprehensive, not looking forward to the way she's going to read you like a goddamn book. "What?"

"Why are you over here, all by yourself?" She asks, her head tilted with curiosity.

You take pause at her question, setting your drink back down with a sigh, gaze drifting back over to the group of men talking loudly with warm grins on their faces, all the happiest you'd seen them in weeks if not months... actually years. 

"I don't know, I just needed some time alone I guess." You shrug, which immediately earns you a disbelieving scoff.

"Bullshit, the one thing no sergeant would want at a time like this is to be alone. It's a tough job, we all survive on these rare few moments when we get to feel some resemblance of normal. Now tell me why you're sitting here alone."

You don't respond for a long moment, eyes flicking over to your childhood best friends again, as they often do when you find yourself in any room with them. "I'm just in my head. I can't stop thinking about what could happen... and what will. I just- I wish I could go back just for a moment, just to remember what it was like before everything went to shit. I'm sick of thinking the worst every time it falls quiet." 

She listens quietly, then nods, her hand moving to your arm to give a reassuring squeeze, "I think we all understand that feeling." 

You nod too, chewing nervously on your lower lip, feeling that sinking feeling like you've ruined the small moment of fun you’d been granted by taking notice of those anxious thoughts. Bucky's hand rests on Steve's shoulder as he talks into his ear, his lips curling up as he laughs through his own words, Steve blushing beside him, shaking his head and looking down at the floor.

"I'd give anything to go back." You whisper, eyes glued to them, thinking about the times Bucky would drag both you and Steve out dancing with him, and Steve would always step on your feet, and then apologise with pink cheeks each time as you reassured him you lost sensation in them two songs ago. 

"I'm guessing you're talking about your boys." Responds Peggy and you nod before your eyebrows furrow, turning to her quickly with a confused frown on your face.

"My boys?" You repeat, ignoring how the notion of it makes you feel, because it just sounds completely ridiculous - and yes, they are your boys.

"Yes. I mean, they are your closest friends, aren't they?" She laughs, and you give your sad attempt at a normal laugh back to her. 

"Yeah, of course. We've been best friends since we were kids." You say back, cringing at your awkwardness and sipping on your drink to try hide it. 

It falls silent for a moment, which was a nice respite to the conversation that was making you anxious enough. Peggy obviously breaks it again. "You miss them." 

It wasn't a question, so you don’t answer, just stare down silently at your glass, swallowing the lump in your throat, that anxiety just getting worse, weighing you down onto your seat. You nod because it's true. With how hectic and scary the past few years have been, all three of you have changed in some way, and you've not had time to get to know those differences. You'd barely spoken to them about anything other than mission plans in weeks, everyone just more than eager to win this war and get home.

"Go talk to them, I'm sure they miss you too." Peggy offers softly, patting your shoulder again before giving you a smile. She slips off her chair, finally leaving you with your thoughts, walking across the bar to sit with the howling commandos with a half-empty drink in her hand, saluting the very boys you were just talking about, and you fight to ignore the stupid jealousy you feel when they both return the gesture to the gorgeous woman.

You’re in way over your head.

You’d hate to admit it, but she’s right, you miss them, very, very much. Things haven't been the same since the war started, and you know it'd be naive to think it will ever go back to how it was. You feel that breath-stealing sadness whenever you look at Steve, a feeling you know is mutual for Bucky too. You still don't always recognise him when he's facing away from you, searching in a crowd for a small, delicate Steve that no longer exists, before you remember the beast of a man he'd become and feel a different kind of warm flutter when you see him. 

Bucky is different too, quieter, rougher around the edges, darker. You miss that boyish charm of his, the easygoing, easy-loving James Barnes everyone knew. He always wore his heart on his sleeve, but he guards it now, keeps it locked away for safekeeping. He barely spoke for weeks after Steve got him out of that place, barely ate. You haven’t seen him cry in months either, which is somehow much more worrying than if he were to break down into tears each night like a lot of the boys do in secret. 

It hurts when you think back to before, a time when the three of you were so close you spent most nights sleeping at each other's houses, a time when your biggest worry was that the neighbours were gossiping about your 'morals', despite how many times Bucky reminded you that the old lady next door's opinion shouldn't matter to you. 

But it did. Sometimes even you worried about your 'morals', a socially-expected guilt clouding the thoughts you'd have about them, both of them. It's always been more. A part of you always knew there was a deeper understanding the three of you had for each other, like how soulmates would be described in the romance books you had read, only it couldn't be so easy that you were in love with one of your best friends, it had to be both.

A person sits beside you again, and you roll your eyes with a small smile, turning towards them and expecting it to be Peggy back to drag you over to everybody else, but you quickly drop the expression at the sight of a man you had never seen before, smiling at you as if you'd invited him to sit there.

"Come here often?" The man asks, not sounding the slightest bit ironic, as amusing as that is for you. You hide your laugh behind your almost empty glass, which doesn’t help you one bit seeing as the glass is clear. You resort to biting your cheek when he just stares back expectantly, apparently waiting for you to swoon and faint into his arms. 

You shake your head, reminding yourself to definitely not come here often. "No, sorry." You respond, mentally scolding yourself for apologising for no reason, and then scolding yourself for scolding yourself. Can he just fuck off maybe?

"That's okay. Pretty dame like you in a bar like this, you here with anyone?" He sounds like Bucky, you think to yourself, only its not charming one bit when this stranger calls your a ‘dame’. He moves closer to you, his arm almost touching yours, which was immediately enough for you to shift away, feeling uncomfortable and annoyed that he was in your space. You scoff, deciding you've seen far too much to give a shit about upsetting some creepy guy in a bar. You open your mouth to shut him down.

"Yeah, she's with us." 

For fucks sake why can't I do the fun part? 

You already know it’s Steve's voice, strong with that Brooklyn accent, even stronger with the distaste in his voice. You don’t turn to look at him, still trying to keep the distance between you and the guy who’s staring wide-eyed up at Captain America.

"Maybe go and bother someone else." Bucky adds, moving in behind the guy, his tone much less polite than the Captain's.

The man doesn’t say a word, much to your amusement, just puts his head down and stands, walking away, probably going to find some other poor woman to bother, or nurse a stronger drink and lick his wounds.

They sit either side of you, Bucky's hand moving to your back. "You alright, doll?" 

You sigh and nod, rubbing your forehead and smiling softly at him "I'm fine, Buck. You know I could've easily scared him away." 

Bucky nods, smirking softly. He's seen you shut down many a guy before the war,

"I know, just making sure." 

It falls silent for a moment, Bucky doesn't break eye contact with you and you can't bring yourself to do it for him, his gaze soft and inviting, almost as distracting as the way he wets his lower lip the way he often does. 

"Why are you sittin' over here?" Steve asks, and it finally draws you to look away from Bucky, clearing your throat before turning to Steve on your left.

"Just lost in thought I guess." You respond with a shrug, deciding not to disclose the fact that you were lost in thought about them, as per usual.

Steves cheeks remain a little pink and you don’t get why, wondering if he had noticed the weird staring going on between you and Bucky, which only makes you blush just the same in embarrassment. 

"Thinking 'bout what, doll?" Bucky presses, his warm breath brushing against your shoulder. You don't let yourself look at him again, staring straight ahead as your stomach flutters with nerves and something else you don't want to think about yet.

You shrug, breathless as Steve inches slightly closer to you too, as if he and Bucky had some nefarious plan to make you want them impossibly more, his shoulder pressing against yours. 

"I don't know. Just lost in thought about... how bad the beer is." You say, sheepish at your stupid response, but Steve laughs sweetly, which only makes you smile. 

Bucky only hums in response though and you look over at him again, that enticing look in his eyes, "How about we get out of here? Just us three, we can swing it like old times, got a fairly decent bottle of whiskey in my room that's waiting to be drank." 

You inhale softly in surprise and excitement. It certainly wouldn't be the first time the three of you had gotten drunk together alone, but it's been a while, and for some reason, it seemed like something different now, something new.

You glance over at Steve to see him waiting for your response, seemingly already aware of Bucky's idea, so you nod, not trusting yourself to speak and not look stupid.

You all leave the bar together after gathering your things, purposefully ignoring the smirk Peggy gives you as you walk past, just wanting to get out of the stuffy bar and away from the noise for a while.

It was a silent taxi ride the whole way back to the hotel you were all currently staying at, though not awkward. You sat between the two men, Bucky's thigh pressed against yours while you and Steve sit shoulder to shoulder. 

You'd always thought that taxis were fairly spacious until you had to share one with a super-soldier and James Buchanan Barnes.

Steve pays the taxi driver with the best tip he can afford and soon enough you were all piling into Bucky's room. 

You sigh when you walk through the door, not giving a second to hesitate to go to the bed, falling forward with another sigh as you stretch out across the mattress, kicking off your uncomfortable shoes and letting them hit the floor with a soft thud. It wasn’t often you had access to an actual bed.

You can hear Bucky and Steve laughing as they take off their jackets, which you didn't have the nerve to watch them do.

"Comfy?" Steve asks, walking over to the small radio on the bedside table and switching through the channels till he found some decent music to have on quietly in the background. 

You nod, humming softly and closing your eyes, "You try wearing heels for a whole night only 3 days after getting off the field." 

Bucky sits beside you on the bed, looking down at you as you hesitantly peek your eyes open to look at him.

"Can't imagine the pain, doll. Want a foot rub?" He teases, a lopsided smirk playing on lips.

You scoff in response, laughing softly and definitely not considering his most likely joking offer. Instead of putting your sore feet on his lap, you just blush and sit up, shoving at his broad shoulder. "Shut up. Where's that decent whiskey you promised, hm?"

He laughs, picking something up off the floor from beside the bed and holding up a full bottle, passing it to you as he takes a glass from the bedside table near him, holding it out for you to pour the liquid into it. 

"Hey guys, I'm gonna go change, then I'll be back, okay?" Says Steve, a smile on his face as he walks back towards the door, and you and James both nod, watching the tall man duck slightly through the doorway and leave room gently shutting the door behind him.

Its comfortably quiet in the hotel room, though the atmosphere slightly different. You sip at the strong-tasting, barely decent whiskey, the liquid burning its way down your throat to settle in your stomach, warm and familiar.

Your gaze again drifts to him, watching over the rim of your glass as Bucky moves to sit against the bed frame after pouring his own drink, shoes kicked to the floor, watching you right back, his head resting against the dark wooden frame, a soft look on his handsome face. A strand of his dark hair falls onto his forehead, and you follow it like an arrow pointing down to the white shirt he's wearing, the top few buttons undone as some sick way to punish you even further.

"You're always so sweet on him." He murmurs quietly, breaking the silence. He doesn’t sound one bit jealous, only fond, his head tilted slightly, his tongue casually dragging across his lower lip.

"Aren't we both?" You tilt your head at him as you ask the question. It feels serious, despite the sweetness of his smile, theres something more hidden in the words, but neither of you are ready to say something like that out loud, the denial comfortable for a moment longer.

He goes quiet again, chewing on his lip as he stares down at the bed sheets, sighing softly. "I guess it's hard not to be. I know he's all tall and macho now," He pauses to huff a laugh, you watching and listening quietly and intently, him looking up to the ceiling as he continues, the smile fading to something softer, "But he's still Stevie."

A hint of a smile pulls at your lips, and you nod, holding your drink up to not spill anything as you shuffle over on your knees to sit beside him against the headboard, huffing softly at the movement, then propping up pillows behind you to be more comfortable as Bucky watches with an amused smile.

"And you're still Buck." You add once you’re settled, looking at his gorgeous face, your chin tilted upwards, and his down. He swallows softly, and you notice the movement of it, his adams apple moving in a distracting way that you swear makes you feel thirsty, so you take another sip of your drink, hoping it will settle the feeling it obviously wont.

"You sure about that?" He asks, his eyes flicking down, watching the whiskey swirl in his glass, lips set in something closer to a frown now. You know he's hurting, even if he hasn't felt ready to confide in you about it yet.

"Very." He looks at you when you say it, and you hold his gaze this time, his stare so intense, eyes so blue, lips so pink. 

It takes your dumb, denial-stuck mind a moment longer to realise that you were looking down at his lips and that he was looking at yours at the same time, and there was no actual effort to either of you leaning closer, just a magnetism and a feeling spreading through your chest and butterfly filled stomach that you don’t even question it, don’t think once about the consequences, and technically its Bucky that ends up closing the tiny gap you’d made for him to do so, putting his glass down at the bedside table closest to him as his soft, warm lips make contact, eyes drifting closed,his hand then reaching across you and taking your glass too placing it down.

With his hands free, they move to cup your face, lips moving against yours, the kiss soft and sweet as your fingers drift up to the nape of his neck, his right hand reaching down for your thigh, grabbing flesh and trying to pull you closer as your lips move faster, a realisation that this kiss can’t last forever and you both swear you need it to.

It shifts from sweet and soft, to passionate and fast-moving, an almost desperate feeling urging you to press closer, your lips coaxing Bucky's to open as his hands grip your skin, your hips, waist, thighs. You just want to taste him, just like you'd always dreamed of doing. It barely feels real, but you barely think about it when you slide your tongue against his lips and earn yourself a soft, heated groan in response.

The booze doesn’t matter, you were drunk on him, butterflies in your stomach, heart hammering in your chest, an ache forming between your legs.

You'd never experienced a kiss like this before, never this intense desperation, so needy for more, clutching at eachother and shifting on the bed, breathing against his cheek.

Time is far lost to you both, only warm skin and hot mouths and soft lips, but the noise at the door breaks through the goodness of the moment, and you and Bucky quickly pull away from each other, panting for air as your heart hammers in your chest. Steve stands at the door wide-eyed.

Bucky licks his lips wordlessly as he tries to calm himself down, sighing and pushing his hair back, looking down at the bedsheets. 

"Steve?" You ask when he doesn’t say anything, anxiety clouding the heated memory replaying of the kiss, as you wait for any reaction from Steve.

Steve couldn’t look more shocked, unable to look either of you in the eye, standing sheepishly at the door as he flushes pink.

"Sorry." He mutters, reaching for the door handle and making his turn to leave, and your heart lurches, sitting up to stop him, but Bucky speaks up before you can remember what words are. 

"Steve." He says softly, and the blonde pauses, looking over at Bucky and waiting to be chastised for entering the room without knocking, but Bucky only offers a small, hesitant smile, "C'mere." 

Poor Steve stands frozen for a while, face only getting redder as you and Bucky stare back at him, the image of the two of you kissing, Bucky's hand squeezing your bare thigh under your dress, yours tugging on his hair, its heavy in the forefront of his mind, and it sets something off in his stomach, something he likes the feeling of.

Bucky gesturesfor him to sit on the bed with them and slowly, Steve does. 

"I didn't mean to-" Steve begins, but Bucky cut him off and you watch dumbly as he handles the situation.

"It's okay." He assures, falling silent for a moment as he tries to find the words to say what he really wanted to, "We're all friends, right? It shouldn't be awkward." 

It’s actually incredibly awkward, but denial was a much easier option, and so you simply avoid eye contact with either of them as you think you’re so good at doing, as you reached over Bucky for your drink again, taking a long sip of the alcohol, focusing on the burn in your throat rather than the ache between your thighs.

"Yeah," Steve responds, sounding as breathless as you feel.

"Maybe-" Bucky stops himself, and you lookover at him, waiting with bated breath for him to say 'Maybe we should just forget it ever happened' but his mind goes elsewhere, "Maybe you two should kiss. You know... make it even." 

The tension in the room couldn’t be any thicker, and so completely silent, not a breath between you. You chance a risky glance at Steve and he stares straight at Bucky, mouth agape, eyes wide.

You feel like you need to say something, feel like you’re fighting between your mind, your heart, and your… The nerve builds up quick and words rush out of your mouth, just needing to escape this awkwardness, "Bucky, I don't think Steve would-" 

"C'mon, I'm not blind, I see the way you two look at each other. You're telling me neither of you is at least a tiny bit curious what it would be like?" Bucky cuts you off, looking between you and Steve with a raised brow, "Don't feel forced to do anything, of course. Just... I don't know... Think about it?"

Oh, you’re thinking about it, you have been thinking about it, for years, in fact you’re imagining it in way too much detail, but acting on it like this, rather than a random, heated frenzy like with Bucky, is much more nerve-wracking.

Its when you risk a glance at Steve that the doubts starts to slip away slightly. its so painstakingly obvious, the blush on his face, the way he can’t look you in the eye and he seemed just as deep in thought as you. You remind yourself who you're with, though much taller now, he’s still Stevie. Your teeth catch your lip, nerves fading enough that you feel less awkward and more anticipating. It already feels like it's the end of the world anyway, actions tend to feel much less consequential. 

"I don't know, Steve..." You start, watching with rising butterflies as he looks over at you, his lips parted, "Maybe he's right."

James grins like you’ve joined the dark side, smirking down at his glass, just listening to you shift into a second devil on Stevie’s shoulder.

"P-pardon?" He almost whispers, and you smile softly, still polite Stevie.

"Maybe we should kiss." You manoeuvre onto your knees, and James wordlessly takes your drink again, placing it back down and inhaling softly, leaning back against the bed frame again and just watching quietly. Steve breathes in, watching you move closer. "Only if you want to, of course." You add for good measure, and Steve gulps, lips parting as he looks over at Bucky, as if for reassurance, Bucky just stares back. You crawl over, settling in front of him, "Do you want to?"

He takes another moment, before softly, he nods, taking a deep breath. 

You look into his eyes, scooting close enough for your thigh to touch his, and you reach for his broad shoulders, biting your lip softly. You can’t quite wrap your head around the idea of kissing either of them ever, especially not both... in front of each other in the time span of five minutes... but there’s no room for regret, just you and your boys...

Your hand glides over to his face, holding his jaw softly as you tilt his head down to you, pressing your lips against his.

This kiss was softer, slower. You knew Steve had kissed before, you were the one who heartbreakingly caught him with not one, but two USO girls, but hes certainly not as experienced as Bucky, nervous and shy, so you stay as gentle as possible, not pushing him to go any further than the gentle touch of your lips until he presses for more, tentative, but he follows your lead, his right hand hovering over your waist before he pulls it away, and you kiss him once more before breaking the contact. You can tell how nervous he still is. 

The room is still as you and Steve pull away from each other, Steve's focus stuck on you as you sit back slightly, looking over at Bucky, as your lips tingle from the kiss, curious to see his reaction, and the sight of him makes your stomach flip.

He sits rested back against the headboard again, legs splayed out in front of him as he watches the two of you with a clearly lustful gaze, his lower lip caught between his teeth, this dark desperation in his eyes, and its like you can read the dirty thoughts clouding his mind.

You don’t think at all when the words left your mouth, but they do, "Your turn."

Buckys lips part, eyes widening slightly and Steve takes an audible breath from beside you.

"What?" The blonde gulps.

You swallow your nerves again, Bucky was right, he could see the way you and Steve look at each other, because you've always looked at each other that way, just like you and Bucky look at each other, just like Bucky and Steve.

It's something that none of you had ever addressed until now, something you'd never let yourselves act upon, but who cares what people think at this point, who cares where this could lead you. If the war has given anything but trauma to you, it's shown you how fucking fragile life is, how much you'd regret it if you never acted upon these feelings, how much they'd regret it.

"You two should make it even, right?"

Steve stares at you, not letting his gaze drift to Bucky, but Bucky stares right at him, something intense in his eyes, something between realisation and surrender, and its clear that he’s waiting for Steve to reject it, to reject him, to wrinkle his nose at the disgusting notion of a man kissing another man, just as everybody else would do, but Bucky knows that wasn't a fair assumption to make about the golden-hearted man he knows their Stevie to be. He still waits though, preparing himself to have to have to take the rejection.

"I-" Steve starts, the very same worries as Bucky filling his head.

"Steve, aren't you at least a tiny bit curious?" You ask gently, using Bucky's previous words in hopes of lightening the mood slightly, which seems to work when Steve huffs a small laugh, though he gives no response. 

You look at Bucky, seeing the heartbreaking disappointment and acceptance in his eyes. You nudge his foot, giving him a soft smile of encouragement when he looks up at you.

He gives you a small smile back, before looking over at Steve, wetting his lips.

"Stevie." He almost whispers his name, and his gaze is soft when it meets Steve’s, "Come here." 

Steve decides not to give himself the chance to hesitate, moving towards Bucky before he can think about what he’s doing, and Bucky leans forward to meet him halfway, his palm sliding across his cheek, thumb smoothing along the skin before he closes the space and Bucky and Steve are kissing right in front of you. 

Its gentle for a few seconds, hesitant on both parts before Steve’s reaching out, hands clutching the material of Bucky's shirt, pulling him forward, pulling him closer. 

Their kiss was rougher, all tongue and teeth and the sight was a lot to try to handle, all you could really do was squeeze your thighs together and enjoy the sight of your two favourite boys, enjoying how eachother kiss. 

Bucky detaches his mouth from Steve's to meet your eye, pulling you closer as his hand holds the side of your neck.

He kisses you, open-mouthed and needy as his tongue glides across your lip, steve groaning softly at the sight, his hand once again hovering over the curve of your waist.

"It's okay, Steve." You murmur against Bucky's lips before you pull back to look at Steve, gripping his hand with your own and guiding him to touch you where he had wanted to, "You can touch me. You can touch me anywhere you'd like. Both of you." 

"Fuckin’ Christ, doll." Bucky sighs, lips mouthing across your jaw, his head dipping lower to kiss your neck, "You want that huh? Want both of us to touch you?" 

You nod as you kiss Steve, Bucky giving you a hickey just below your ear like a goddamn teenager. Bucky makes his way to Steve's neck then, curious to what noises he could pull from Captain America himself, and he chuckles against Steve's neck when he sighs softly into your mouth, as sensitive and worked up as Bucky had always wondered he'd be. 

When Bucky and Steve start kissing again, you take the opportunity to catch your breath, sitting back for a moment to watch the way Bucky pushes Steve down against the mattress, everything escalating so quick and yet feeling exactly like the way it should be. He adjusts his hips over Steve, pressing against him, and Steve groans softly, his rising up to meet bucky’s.

You bite your lip at the sight, your hand almost subconsciously sliding between your thighs, applying slight pressure against your underwear as your thighs squeeze together again. 

It just feels so right, and your body is reacting like it never has before, all reservations out of the window when you fingers press against your clit ever so slightly, breath catching when Bucky starts talking.

"Y'see that Stevie? Look how desperate our girl is for us. She just has to touch herself, doesn't she? Think we should help her out?" He murmurs, speaking the words into Steve's ear, though saying them loud enough for you to hear them too, and Steve nods quickly, no more hesitation, panting for breath, lips a pretty shade of kissed.

Our girl. 

"God, yes." Steve answers.

Their attention turns to you, Bucky with that mischievous, knowing glint in his eye, "Why don't you help her out of that dress, Stevie."

Steve nods, following orders like this was a part of his training, moving closer towards you, more confident though a bit sheepish.

"Go on, honey." You say to him, kissing his jaw as his fingers brush against the zipper at the back of the dress. He somehow manages to unzip you as slow as physically possible, fingers dusting along your back in a way that brings on a shiver. He finally pulls the dress off over your head and Bucky gives a low whistle at the sight of you, their pretty lady just in her undergarments.

Your head tilts back when Bucky leans towards you and kisses your collarbone, the kisses trailing lower and lower until he was kissing across the tops of your breasts. You sigh at the sensation, loving the attention on you but it doesn’t seem vert fair you’re in your bra and panties only and these two were fully dressed. You tug at both Steve and Bucky's shirts until they get the hint and both start pulling them off, Steve's going over his head while you help Bucky undo the buttons on his. 

From then on the clothes seem to keep coming, and you chuckle softly as Steve helps Bucky unbuckle his belt and pull his pants off. It doesn't take long before they're both left in only their underwear, and neither you nor Bucky give Steve the chance to blush or second guess anything when you lean towards him, kissing his shoulder and Bucky kissing his lips. 

You'd think it would be overwhelming, but god it just feels so right. 

You hum as fingers drift across you back to the clasp of your bra, Bucky looking at you, waiting for your permission, which you quickly give, nodding your head breathlessly before he quickly undoes the clasp, helping you out of the straps and then finally pulling the bra away. 

"Fu-" Steve stops himself, staring down at your uncovered breasts, your peaked nipples, soft pretty skin, waiting desperately to be touched and he forces himself to close his eyes, convinced for a second that that was it, he was going to come right here and now in his briefs. Bucky chuckles, that cheeky grin on his face as he dips his head and kisses his way across your now bare chest, cupping your left breast gently and mouthing over your nipple, smirking as your fingers thread through his hair, swirling his tongue.

"I think we're corrupting our sweet little Stevie, love," Bucky murmurs, and you hum back at him, looking over at the blonde who sits in amusing deep concentration, trying desperately hard not to lose himself. 

"I don't know, Buck. I reckon Stevie's much less innocent than you think. Plus, he's not so little anymore..." You tease, knowing he’s listening, so you reach over, your palm against Steve's thigh, "Why don't you show us, honey? Get out of that head of yours, and come play with me and Buck."

Even Bucky groans at that, pressing his face into the crook of your neck as he continues to kiss you with a bit more hunger now.

Steve looks wrecked already, opening his eyes to look down at the two of you, skin against skin, waiting for him to come back to you. 

"Why don't you tell us what you want, Steve?" You ask him, moaning softly when Bucky rubs his thumb over one of your nipples.

"I want.." He licks his lips, looking down your body, eyes lingering on the one place you’re still covered, "I want to touch you." 

"Then touch me, Stevie." You respond and his hand drifts slowly to your thigh, Bucky still busy paying attention to your chest.

Steve's fingertips brush against the edge of your underwear, looking up at you for reassurance, "Even here?"

You sigh when Bucky grazes his teeth across your skin, tugging on his hair, "Especially there."

"Go on, Steve, I think she's still a bit overdressed," Bucky adds, encouraging him to strip you of your final layer, and Steve does so, feeling his cock throb as your bare pussy comes into view. 

You part your legs for him, your inner thighs already showing how wet you are, waiting patiently for someone to finally touch you where you needed most, and when Steve brushes his fingers through your folds, tentatively exploring, nudging against your swollen clit as he did so, you moan openly. 

Bucky leans back, looking down at you laid out across the mattress, completely bare beneath them as you lift your hips to meet Steve's hand, needing more pressure. Bucky reaches down for Steve's hand, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth as he assists him. 

"Touch her right here with more pressure. Make small circles." Bucky directs, and Steve gladly follows the instructions given, watching as you get more and more breathless as he touches you, his fingers getting covered in your slick as you whimper softly, "Just like that, Steve."

Steve bites his lip at Bucky praising him like that, his cock throbbing so hard in his briefs as he focuses on trying to make you feel good, before Bucky takes a hold of Steve's fingers, guiding them lower and lower until they were sliding into you. You gasp softly, head tilting back at the slight relief of no longer being empty, but you’re still no way near full, needing more and more, still, you enjoy this, shifting your hips as Bucky instructs Steve to curl his fingers. 

A pretty sounding moan slips from your open mouth when Bucky really starts participating, leaning on one arm as the other hand moves down to you, his thumb almost softly rubbing over your clit, watching in gentle awe and focus as him and Steve’s hands take good care of you, Steve's two fingers fucking into you as Bucky builds a steady rhythm on your clit. It doesn’t take long of the repeated pattern before your hips roll forward unknowingly, getting closer and closer to coming, the heat in your body rising, every nerve tingling... so close.

"James, I'm-- Fuck, Stevie." You moan, enjoying having two names to beg to, feeling your body tighten up as they both continue until you’re over the edge, coming on your best friend's fingers, your body vibrating as they ease you through the strong orgasm, Bucky not stopping until you reach down and gently move his hand away, bordering on overstimulation as your body becomes overly sensitive. 

"Holy fuck." Steve murmurs, and Bucky laughs at him, nudging his arm.

"Language." He teases. 

"Shut up, punk." Replies Steve, pushing Bucky’s shoulder back. You lay there catching your breath, humming with a gentle smirk as you watch them act so casual after both giving you the best orgasm of your life, so far.

"God, just make out already." You joke, grinning at the two, your body relaxed, and Bucky gives you a look as you sit up. 

"Oh, you'd like that wouldn't you." He nips at your shoulder, and you roll your eyes playfully, enjoying seeing him like this again, the happiest and most like himself you'd seen him in weeks, "Good, thing I'd like that too. Steve?" 

Steve looks over at Bucky, nodding and moving closer to him, kissing softly.

You give yourself a moment to gather yourself, catching your breath, relaxing in the afterglow of the first orgasm you’ve had in a while, admiring them for a short while, and then eventually joining them, kissing across Bucky's shoulder, raking your nails through Steve's hair. 

"Think Stevie's ever had someone's mouth on him before?" You murmur into Bucky's ear, feeling pride in the sigh he gives in response, pulling away from Steve's mouth, humming against your skin as he leans into you, head laid back against your shoulder, nose tucked against your neck.

Steve just couldn’t stop staring, his erection straining against his underwear, both of you watching him with those eyes. None of it feels quite real, like it’s all too good to be true, yet so much better than he imagined. He groans softly when Bucky moves his hand down, watching him as he presses his palm against his cock over the fabric.

"How 'bout it, Stevie? Think you could handle someone's mouth on your cock?" God, the words are so obscene, yet so natural as they fall from Bucky’s lips, Steve all but whimpers when the both of you start kissing on his neck, "Ever done that before, Steve?"

He shakes his head, hands reaching to touch both of them in any way he can, "God, please."

"Not God, angel." Bucky starts, the pet name rolling off his lips, smooth as butter, sweet as honey, "Just us."

His briefs were off, his cock springing up when it was finally released from the far too tight confines of his underwear. Bucky leans forward, kissing Steve as he guides him to lay back on the mattress, hovering over him. 

The sight couldn’t be more mouth-watering, his cock a deep shade of pink as he leaks pre-cum onto his stomach, so desperate, kissing Bucky back like his life depended on it. 

His stomach tightens when you start kissing your way down his chest until you finally reached the tip of his cock, wrapping a hand around the base, kissing the tip, hearing Steve moan into Bucky’s mouth.

You lick along the underside of his shaft, swirling your tongue over the head and liking the salty taste it left you with. Steve’s an utter mess, bucking his hips and squirming beneath you and Bucky when you finally put your mouth around him, no longer having the focus to continue kissing Bucky, instead just letting his head fall back against the pillows, breath laboured and heavy as you start to suck. 

"C'mon, sweetheart. You can go deeper than that." Bucky purrs, tilting his head as you look up at him through your lashes, and you pull off of Steve, using your hand to make lazy strokes up and down his cock, shaking your head at the brunette.

"He's so big, Bucky," You bite your lip, and Steve whimpers softly at your compliment, watching as you fake a look of innocence, giving Bucky those doe eyes as you brush your thumb across the tip of Steve's cock. "D'you wanna taste him, Buck?"

Bucky already knows the answer to that, his cock was throbbing at the sight of you and Steve alone, but he glances up to Steve, meeting his distracted gaze and waiting for some sort of permission, which was given almost immediately, Steve frantically nodding his head. 

Bucky smirks, winking at you as he adjusts himself on the bed, moving beside you, giving your lips a chaste kiss before lowering his head, your hand still holding his cock for Bucky to enjoy, his tongue circling the head just as you were doing only seconds ago, as you continue to stroke Steve's remaining length while Bucky starts to take him deeper into his mouth. 

Steve couldn't hold back on the sounds he’s making, he's never been so vocal, never been so sensitive to touch, but he can’t help himself, Bucky's mouth felt so warm, so wet, and when he opens his blue eyes to look down at the two of you, he know he wont last much longer. 

You bend your head down when Bucky comes up for air, tracing your tongue against Steve's cock as you meet Bucky's eye holding his heart-stopping gaze as Bucky started doing the same, both of your mouths on him at the same time. 

It’s filthy, an act of sin no doubt you'll never come back from, but you wouldn’t want to anyway, humming when Steve starts panting, his abs constricting, you wrap your lips around the tip, pumping his cock with your hand until his cum filled your mouth, hearing the deep groan that reverberated through his chest as he came.

You swallow as you pulled away and a hand finds its way to your neck, Bucky pulling you closer. “No fair, you’re supposed to share, sweet girl.” He chastises softly, almost pouting, before he closes the gap to capture your lips with his own, his tongue sliding into your mouth. He moans softly at the taste of Steve's cum on your tongue, the pretty sound so perfect on your ears, only reminding you that Bucky was yet to be touched, focusing on yours and Steve's pleasure instead of his own. How very like him.

You rest your hand on his stomach as you kiss him back, gliding your fingers lower and lower until you reach the waistband of the underwear that he was still somehow wearing. You ping the elastic against his skin, smiling into the kiss when he only leaned closer. 

He shudders as your hand finally slides past the band, wrapping around his cock and pulling him out. Neither of you made any move to remove his underwear, you both knew he was far too gone, too desperate to wait any longer, so you squeeze the base of his cock, pulling away from the kiss only to look at him.

Hair mussed, light eyes the darkest you'd ever seen them, as he watches every little move you make for him, his lips red and swollen, cheeks flushed pink. He finally looks as wrecked as Steve, who was still getting over the fact that he just came in his best friend's mouth. 

You move your hand slowly at first, stomach fluttering with every strangled moan that caught in Bucky's throat, "You're all talk, ain't you Buck?" 

"Fuck, doll- please- I need to come." He groans, eyes fluttering shut when you kiss his neck, his forehead dropping to your shoulder, arm wrapping around your waist.

"You look as desperate as our Stevie right now, James." You tease, but still speed up your hand for him, swirling your thumb across the slit to hear his breath hitch in his throat. 

Bucky looks over at Steve then, giving a light-hearted scoff at the sight of him rock hard again, stroking slowly at his cock as he enjoys the show in front of him. 

"Fuckin' super soldier." Bucky laughs, laying his cheek on your shoulder, groaning softly as his eyes flutter closed.

You can tell how close he is, moving his head to tuck right into the crook of your neck, talking himself away like he tends to do, "Fuck, feels so good, sweetheart. 'M so close- Never felt this good before, doll." 

You were used to his nicknames by now, years of him calling you 'doll' more than he used your actual name usually had you rolling your eyes, but now, like this, it makes your stomach flutter. 

It wasn't much longer till he was coming onto both of your stomachs, hot spurts painting your skin as Bucky's hips twitched forward with every second he comes, groaning as you continue to stroke him.

Steve follows yet again not long after, and a glance over to him laid against the headboard with his abdomen covered in his own spend has you blushing, never mind the fact that he'd just had his fingers inside you, and his cock in your mouth. 

Bucky quickly cleans up your stomach with his discarded shirt, along with his own before he tosses it to Steve with a chuckle. 

You’re all glowing, surprised by the complete lack of awkwardness despite all the things that had just happened in Bucky's hotel room. Instead, you all huddle together on the bed, your head laid on Steve's shoulder as Bucky rested his on your stomach, your fingers naturally finding themselves threading through his hair. 

"Well, that was fucking amazing," Bucky murmurs, a content smile on his face as he looks over at you and Steve, his arms around your waist.

"Yeah, it was." Steve agrees, moving one of his hands through Bucky's hair too, before draping his arm above your head. 

You go quiet for a moment, the afterglow not quite enough to keep the anxiety at bay anymore, "I just wish we'd done this earlier."

They know what you mean, they know what you’re insinuating, and the room falls silent. None of you could deny the dangers, the uncertainty ahead of you, but that didn't mean you couldn't enjoy the time you had up until that moment you’d all have to risk everything again.

"We can't think like that, baby," Bucky speaks first, his voice soft, gentle and yet serious, "I know it's hard not to, but we can't focus on the regrets. If anything, we just need to live the best we can with what we've got... and if I've got you two, I don't need anything else."

You nod, pressing your face into Bucky’s hair, although you can’t see Steve's face, you know that he agrees, his fingers brushing against your arm affectionately. 

"Bucky's right. Let's just enjoy this, lord knows we've all been pining for each other for years." 

You chuckle softly, having needed this soft moment for a long while, feeling warm and loved between them, hoping they feel it too.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Code of Conduct 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as cheating, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss has a difficult time keeping his personal life from bleeding into his work. 

Characters: Steve Rogers, this reader is known as Rosie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

“Mr. Rogers’ office. This is Rosie, how can I hel--” 

“Where is he?” Peggy’s voice cuts over your own. 

“Oh, hello, Mrs. Rogers, he’s currently in a meeting--” 

“Get him.” 

“Mrs.--” 

“Don’t argue with me. Go get him. Are you not his assistant?” She challenges brusquely. 

Her accent adds to the sharpness of her words. Her curt demeanour is a stark contrast to her husband. Your boss is always amiable, accommodating even, but the few times you’ve dealt with his wife have been similarly tense. You put a smile on so she can’t hear your anxiety. 

“Of course, Mrs. Rogers,” you preen, “I’ll put you on a quick hold.” 

“No, you will get him. No hold.” 

You suck in a sigh and hold your breath in your chest, “of course.” 

You set the phone down. You don’t see how her hearing your desktop will be any better but you wouldn’t want to irritate her further. It must be urgent. 

You stand and smooth out your dress. You step out from behind your desk, digging your nails into your palms as you ball your fists tight. You get nervous about most things. Answering the phone took your months to get used to and even now you tend to fumble over your words. 

You go to the door and brace yourself. You don’t know why you expect Mr. Rogers to be upset. He’s never been anything close to rude. Maybe short in times of stress but not unpleasant. You knock and wait as you twiddle your fingers against your striped pleats. 

It isn’t Mr. Rogers who answers by Mr. Barnes. You give a sheepish smile, “excuse me, doll.” 

He steps past you and you bid him a good day. He leaves without further courtesy and Mr. Rogers calls your name from within, “need something?” He asks. 

“Oh, yes, Mrs. Rogers is on the phone.” 

He doesn’t seem happy about that. His cheek dimples and he nods, wiggling his pen at you, “patch her through.” 

You go back to your desk and pick up the receiver, “hello, Mrs. Rogers, he’s available now--” 

“I don’t want to talk to you, honey. Where is my husband?” 

You transfer her without another word. Phew. You almost feel bad for your boss as you hear him pick up in his office. His tone is low and dull. 

You try not to overhear, letting his conversation drone into a buzz. There’s enough work to be done without worrying about his personal life. Your own afterhours concerns are more than concerning. You wouldn’t say you have much going on and that’s the problem. It’s moment like those that ease your envy of others’ full plates. 

You haven’t seen the girls lately. The group chat’s been quiet but you suppose you could go ahead and say hi. Your weekly cocktails petered out to biweekly, then monthly, and now you can’t remember the last time you let go with a mimosa. 

You peek over your desk and back at your screen. It’s not only on them to keep things going. You pick up your phone and open the chat. The last message is a meme Elfie sent about printers. You shake your head and send a little waving sticker, keying in a message. 

‘Long time no see! I’m in need of drinks. Anyone free? When’s best? Hope you’re all taking care.’ 

You’re professional tone shines through even on WhatsApp. It’s a bit lame but you’re an entirely different person in text. Most people are surprised to meet the mousy secretary hiding behind her screen after the lively back and forth in Outlook. 

You set your phone down and try not to stare at it. A reply never comes while you’re waiting for it, nor does water boil when you’re watching it. As you click around and try to remember where you were, the silence sinks in. Your realisation brings your eyes up as quickly as Mr. Rogers shadow. 

You bat your lashes at him in surprise, “need something, sir?” 

He gives a half-smile, the type weighed down by disappointment. He sighs and crosses his arms, leaning on the door frame, “you hungry?” 

“Um, well, it’s only eleven,” you shrug. 

“Mm, yeah,” he unfolds one arm to rub his neck, “I’m restless. You feel like getting lunch early?” 

“Sure, I can run out and grab you something,” you stand eagerly. 

“No, uh,” he drops his arm back over his other, “together. I had a reservation for me and Peggy but she canceled. I’d hate to inconvenience the restaurant and I just can’t sit and mope in my office.” 

“Oh, okay, I guess that works...” 

“Do you need to ask your boss?” He scoffs. 

You laugh at his joke, “do I?” 

He smiles, a real smile and drops his arms, “my treat. You know what, you earned it. You work so hard around here, a little employee appreciation is overdue.” 

“That’s so nice,” you chime, “uh, sir, I... I should leave an away message, should I?” 

“Oh, who cares, come on.” 

“Well, I mean...” 

“Ah, I get it, boss is a real hard ass,” he winks. 

“Sir,” you giggle nervously and teethe your lip. He watches your mouth. 

“You can catch up later. Come on, I haven’t played hooky in years.” 

“Hooky?” You stammer. 

He laughs, “a goody two shoes. It’s why I hired you but it’s okay to let loose once in a while.” 

“I know, Mr. Rogers, it’s just... it’s work.” 

“Too much of it and you’ll turn into me,” he huffs. “Please, I’m sure your husband would hate if you were never home. Never answered the phone.” 

“If I had one, probably,” you blurt out then look away shyly. 

“Really? I thought...” he begins and shakes his head, “doesn’t matter. I’ll grab my jacket and we’ll go. I missed breakfast.” 

“Um, sure, sir,” you agree and put your hand on the phone. 

When he turns, you look down. Missie sent a reply; ‘please, drinks are required!’ Ooh! Yay. 

[holylulusworld]

Second Hand (2)

Summary: He only wants you.

Pairing: Alpha!Steve Rogers x Omega (fem) Reader

Warnings: mentions of rejection/former abusive relationship, scenting, a/b/o, cuddling & snuggling, hurt & comfort, fluff

Catch up here: Second-Hand

Steve never left you out of sight since that fateful day.

He cradled you in his arms for a few more hours, letting his alpha calm down. He scented you and nuzzled your neck. His teeth nipped at your marred mating gland.

The alpha wanted to mark your neck and call you his omega. But Steve is a gentleman, and old-fashioned alpha wanting to court for you instead of claiming you in a hurry.

Unlike everyone expected, you walked out of the room, unharmed. Steve held your hand and growled at Tony and Bruce. He guided you out of the room, and toward his apartment, where you would spend the rest of the night, cuddling and scenting each other.

Steve made you feel safe and warm. Even more important, you felt content for the first time since your mate broke your bond.

While you slowly got used to having an alpha watching your every move, Steve tried to find a way to show you that there are alphas who treat their omegas with respect.

One night he sneaked into your home to surprise you with flowers and take-out, only to find you curled up in your wardrobe. You were close to your heat and tried to not nest on your bed.

Steve asked you about it, and you broke down in his arms, crying. You told him everything that your mate did to you, from the abandonment for weeks to partying with his friends to leave you alone during your heat for a business trip.

You even admitted that your former mate didn’t like it when you nested on your bed and that he yelled and screamed when you did it either way.

Steve growled low in his throat hearing that your mate hit the wall next to your head when you nested on the bed. You broke down, whimpering and crying.

Since that day, you nested in your wardrobe, or the corner of your small office at your apartment. You didn’t want to anger him even further. It didn’t stop him from breaking the bond. He blamed you for not being the submissive and sweet omega he always wanted.

“You stared at the wall again,” Steve softly said. He stroked your cheek, making you feel warm. “What is on your mind, Y/N?” He sat next to you in silence. Steve knew that his presence always calms you. “If you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

Taking a deep breath, you looked at Steve. You grabbed his hand and held it tenderly.

“Today I was at the grocery store. I wanted to make dinner for us,” you sniffed and dropped your gaze. “He was there. Out of the blue my former—” You bit your tongue and shook your head. “That man stood in front of my shopping cart.”

Steve swallowed thickly. He didn’t say a thing but moved a little closer to offer his warmth.

“He wasn’t alone,” you wiped your eyes before leaning your head against Steve’s shoulder. “All those years he told me that he doesn’t want a baby. Every time I was in heat, he refused to breed me.”

A snarl escaped his lips. Steve doesn’t want to hear that you wanted someone else than him to breed you. “It’s okay, you can tell me everything. I’m here, as always. You’ve been there for me too.”

“His new mate, the woman he left me for, she’s pregnant,” you huffed. “Can you believe that he led me on only to give that woman what I always wanted? A loving mate, and a baby.”

“Hey, come here,” Steve murmured your name. He carefully helped you sit in his lap and wrapped his arms around you. You immediately buried your face in his neck to scent him. “Fate has a funny way to bring people together. You believed he was the one, and I believed Peggy was the one for me. Now we both know better.”

You nodded against him and sniffled.

“You’re my mate now, and you will never be alone again. I want you to nest on our bed, and to feel safe to do whatever you want at our home.”

He held you tightly and whispered your name in your ear. “I was frozen to the spot. All these times I imagined seeing him again, and the speech I held in my mind was just gone. My mind was blank.”

“It’s okay. Sometimes we can’t bring the words we want to say out.”

“I wanted to scream at him, and kick his balls,” you muttered under your breath. “His new mate grinned at me and rubbed her belly. She wanted to say something, and that was when Thor walked in. They blanched when he happily added things to my shopping cart.”

“You went shopping with Thor again?” Steve chuckled. He wasn’t jealous of Thor, knowing you helped Thor adapt to his new life on Earth.

“He was in his armor because he saved a cat from getting run over. They just stared at him, asking if he’s my mate,” you laughed against Steve. “Thor said no, and that he wouldn’t dare touch Captain America’s mate.”

Steve’s chest swelled with pride hearing your former mate got jealous. “I wouldn’t let him touch my mate,” Steve purred against you. “I’m already planning on giving her all the babies she wants.”

He pressed his lips against the mark he left while thinking about visiting your former mate. Steve decided against it, but he later asked Tony to keep tabs on your former mate. Just to be sure he stays away from you…

Tags in reblog.

[shanastoryteller]

Happy pride!!!! Dealers choice, but something gender?

a continuation of 1

Steve meets Iron Man and immediately wants to punch him in the face. It probably wouldn’t do much, considering he’s made out of solid metal. But it might make him feel better. And hey, he’s punched though solid metal before.

He’s sarcastic and rude and makes derisive, pithy comments and doesn’t take anything seriously. Plus he immediately starts hitting on Natasha, who’s obviously more than capable of taking care of herself, but it makes him think of all the people who used to underestimate and denigrate Peggy and he has to grit his teeth.

The worst part is it’s clear no one else feels the same way.

Everyone greets him cheerfully, rolling their eyes and laughing at his jokes. Even Natasha likes him, not flirting back but also not shutting it down, easy around him in a way that so far she’s only been around Coulson. Fury and Hill seem to be the only people that share his irritation.

Tony Stark walks onto the hellicarrier, hair short and jeans tight with an MIT sweatshirt several sizes too big, and the first thing she says to Steve is, “Heard you met my better half.”

“What,” he says.

But she’s already moved on, talking excitedly to Bruce Banner who for the first time doesn’t look like he’s contemplating throwing himself off the edge. Everyone else is ignoring her, but Steve can’t look away. She sits at the table and taps her fingers against it, finally getting fed up and interrupting Fury to call him an idiot, arguing about the cube and scepter, and for someone who hadn’t been on the ground she seems to know an awful lot. But Howard had been like that too, never involved with the actual fighting.

Then there’s a couple comments about the armor and repairs and what reinforcements she’ll have to add before Iron Man is sent out again. Her earlier comment clicks into place and he blurts, “You’re married to Iron Man?”

How could an ass like that get a girl like this?

That causes the entire table to go silent.

“Wow,” Natasha says. “Does Rhodes know you’re cheating on him? That would explain why you look like you just rolled off the couch.”

“Shut up, fuck you’re annoying,” Tony says. “No, Rogers, that was a joke. He’s my highly compensated employee and bodyguard who I have strictly professional relations with otherwise Pepper will scratch my eyes out. She’s one more PR disaster away from taking an extended vacation in Bora Bora.”

“And she occasionally releases him from his services to help us fight crime,” Coulson says with a straight face.

She points a finger at him. “I’m going to start billing you for that.”

“You already bill us for texts you send comprising entirely of emojis,” Fury says, deadpan. “Don’t push your luck.”

“Those emojis were instructions on how to diffuse a bomb, and also the tech team understood it, so,” she shrugs. “Perfectly logical. If you have an issue with my billing, take it up with Pepper.”

Steve doesn’t know who Pepper is, but Fury frowns and changes the subject, so she must be pretty intimidating.

[milkyplier]

“Marin.” Warriors says, and Legend’s jaw snaps shut. His whole body stiffens, something flickers in his eyes—good natured annoyance turns to fear, ever so briefly, before he relaxes again. He’s deadly calm now, attention completely on Warriors. He doesn’t say anything, so Warriors keeps going.

“I met a girl during the war. Her name was Marin. She had red hair and a blue and purple dress and she could sing like no one else. When we met, and I told her my name, she smiled and said that she knew a Link, once. That was you, wasn’t it?”

Legend nods tersely. Warriors hesitates. Again, words evade him. Legend doesn’t care.

“That’s not everything.” His voice is almost monotone. “Tell me.”

Warriors opens his mouth. No words come out.

“Captain.” It’s harsh this time, almost anxious. “Say it.”

“…She’s gone.”

I was up until 4:30am for you

Plink???

Why???

[adrienneleclerc]

Just A Bunch of Hocus Pocus

Summary: What i believe your couples costume would be with the F1 Drivers

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: Drivers include Charles Leclerc, Lando Norris, Logan Sargeant, Oscar Piastri, Lewis Hamilton, Carlos Sainz, Max Verstappen, and the newest addition of Daniel Ricciardo. Most of the costumes were my idea but when i was stumped, i used Chat GPT

Charles Leclerc: Since Charles loves Harry Potter, i believe you two would dress up as Harry and Ginny or dress up in Hogwarts "uniforms" in general with the robe, tie, and scarf of your house. Maybe you guys would be Lightning McQueen and Sally because you sent him so many memes comparing him to Lightning McQueen. I also see you guys being Mr. and Mrs. Smith because who wouldn't want to see Charles in a suit?

Lando Norris: You two would dress up as Spider-Man and MJ/Gwen Stacy, depending on which movie or character you prefer. Han Solo and Princess Leia are also on the table, along with Mario and Princess Peach, that way you and the whole Quadrant crew can dress up as character from Super Mario Bros.

Logan Sargeant: You and the American Boy will dress up as Captain America and Peggy Carter, no question about it. Also, you two could dress up as an athlete and a cheerleader since he is, as Alex puts it, so painfully American. But to make it even better, you guys would go as Nathan and Haley from One Tree Hill OR Troy and Gabriella because whats more American than High School Musical?

Oscar Piastri: You two would be Tinkerbell and Terrence after making him watch all the movies with you. Iron Man and Pepper Potts if he wanted to go the superhero route like Logan. But he would also agree to doing a group costume with your friends and going as Numbah 3 and 4 from Codename: Kids Next Door which was one of your favorite cartoons from when you were younger, mainly because Numbah 4 is Australian as well.

Lewis Hamilton: I believe you guys would go as Michael Jackson and Britney Spears from that live performance with the green sparkling dress OR the event photo where Michael was wearing a red shirt and Britney had the leather newsboy cap since Lewis is very fashion forward. The Mad Hatter and Alice is another good one because of how elaborate the Mad Hatter suits are, it would be perfect for Lewis. Also because of your (my) obsession with Criminal Minds, you guys could go as Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia because who wouldn't want to be his baby girl?

Carlos Sainz: El Matador, el matador!! You guys would go as el Zorro and Elena and would look so cute! Another is Jack Sparrow and Angelica Teach (Puss in Boots and Kitty Softpaws if you guys want to be a little silly). However, Carlos would absolutely lose it if you guys went as Seth Gecko and Santanico Pandemonium from the movie From Dusk Til Dawn.

Max Verstappen: After you find out that Max hasn't seen the Halloween MASTERPIECE that is Hocus Pocus, you make him watch it with you and you guys dress up as Winifred Sanderson (or Sarah) and Billy Butcherson. You would also dress up as Richard Gere and Julia Roberts from Pretty Woman. I can also imagine you guys going as Hiccup and Astrid from How To Train Your Dragon so Max would be able to dress his cats as your respective dragons

Daniel Ricciardo: Hands down you guys will dress up as Woody and Bo Peep because the man LOVES to dress up as a cowboy. Barbie and Ken in their cowboy outfits is also a choice for your guys' costumes. I think he would love the idea of him being a cowboy and you as a saloon girl like in Westworld

The End

[thequeensofbeauty]

“I used to think all that stuff about women being more emotionally intelligent than men was just something people said—the way we'd say men are worse at being sick. But as I've gotten older, I've realized that we have a lot more insight into what we're experiencing. Women are so much better at dealing with challenging, complicated situations because conflict is about emotions. And it does start to feel like a superpower. In my experience, emotional intelligence is one of the only things that really matters.” Anna Kendrick photographed by Peggy Sirota for Shape (June ‘20)

[austinsastrology8991]

> SUN IN THA HOUSE < and whY yoU Be like dat

Sun is our focal point, its our brightest star > you force others to look at you and look at themselves by your star quality <

Sun in the First - Everyone knows them, and they make it a fact that if you don't see them then your the one who is blind. They have a confident swagger, but arrogance to them that begs for the attention of all around them, and everyone is locked in on how or why they have such a powerful presence. Their smiles are contagious too. Also somehow always in the perfect place to say some funny ass shit and keep their style points that they been racking up over the years "You know. You all know exactly who I am. Say my name" - W.W 'breaking bad'

Sun in the Second - Did I stutter? Im talking about what I need not what I want. These guys are possessed by themselves and everyone loves it. So focused so self contained, they don't want nothing to do with you if you can't help them achieve their goals, and that attitude is sticky and everyone wanna be glued to em because they are destined for success. So they are constantly deciding who they want to share their gifts with, because they know they got it, what you got? "Money, money, money, money, money ain't the motive, What's your name again? Nobody knows it, Don't speak to me n***a, you not important, Im focused" - Tyler, the creator 'smuckers'

Sun in the Third - The whizz kid who didn't study, but stole the test papers and told everyone the wrong answers and kept all the right ones to himself. They are smart and they dont need you to tell them this they just want some more god damn answers. And thats what frustrates everyone, because they know so much already, why they still searching? Well thats how they got so smart dummy "That's why they put my lyrics up under this microscope Searching with a fine tooth comb, it's like this rope Waiting to choke, tightening around my throat Watching me while I write this, like, "I don't like this note" - Eminem 'white america'

Sun in the Fourth - The sentimental cry baby that everyone loves to cuddle. Emotional but people find it adorable. They are the rock you can cry on if you want a rock to cry on. Nah but if you need a safe place to cry, you can cry to them, they'll protect you from the harsh waves of others emotional projections, because they get it, even when everyone else refuses to. But don't use em because that'll force them to block you out, and this decision will cause a emotional rollercoaster for the both of you and they'll blame you for it even if it was their decision "And I am done changing words, Just so my songs sound prettier, I just don't care if it hurts, 'Cause it hurts me too" - Faye Webster 'hurts me too'

Sun in the Fifth - The walking confetti explosion, always turnt up and if you trynna lower the volume then they'll oblige ya just so when the volume inevitably goes up again, they'll make it a point that its always more fun with the party up then down. Charming chameleons that are cheesin about the colours they managed to pull off. Watch em dance, watch em sing, watch em do a funny, they can do it all and laugh while doing it, the vibe is them and they are so good at inviting people in on the little big party they got going on "Man I just wanna go flex, Gold on my teeth and on my neck, And I'm stone cold with the flex, With my squad and I'm smokin' up a check" - Post Malone 'go flex'

Sun in the Sixth - Typeracer.com - nah but seriously they always working on themselves and comparing themselves just to make sure their progress is more than what they expected and way more than what others expected of them. Because they here for a reason, and they will never let a opportunity slip, because if they do, they'll stay awake over it for years, and they done wasting their good years. Basically Peggy Olsen "And when your album sales wasn't doing too good, Who's the Doctor they told you to go see? Y'all better listen up closely, All you n***s that said that I turned pop, Or The Firm flopped. Y'all are the reason that Dre ain't been getting no sleep" - Dr Dre 'forgot about dre'

Sun in the Seventh - I gotchu what you need? true homies always putting others before them, and i know this gets a bad rap these days but if you ever get one of these friends. Do yourself a favour and stop telling them to stand up for themselves, because they still standing with the weight of everyone else on they shoulders. This way they show others the power of communication. And they still sticking it to everyone who tell em otherwise, so please tell me how they not standing up for themselves? They the loyalist, you got no idea how many people rely on em and thats their pride "Every step I take, every move I make (ohh, I'll miss you), Every single day, every time I pray, I'll be missing you (yeah, yeah, yeah), Thinkin' of the day, when you went away, What a life to take, what a bond to break, I'll be missing you" - Diddy 'missing you'

Sun in the Eighth - Who went to hell and back? Well they went to a version of it. And they are done hearing whatever you done, because what they did beats your hell tenfold. They don't even wanna put you in your place because they don't wanna hear your attempts to disapprove of them because they've overcome more than some bullshit shit talking. Just put some respect on their name thats all they want. And if not it's easy pickens because think they worse than you, and if you done worse, they don't mind going badder, so be careful, they'll do it. They careful about not being careful so be careful "No I don't worry, I tell you, I'm a man who believes that I died twenty years ago, And I live like a man who is dead already, I have no fear whatsoever of anybody or anything" - Skepta 'no security'

Sun in the Ninth - I WOKE UP IN NEW BUGgATTI is how they live their lives, except miss the bugatti but keep the caps lock on. They live by a set of moral philosophies to help them get by and to find excitement/ enjoyment outta life, because they refuse to be a follower, they've seen how sad everyone else is and they just trynna make sure it don't work out that way for them. Educated idiots; making up the rules as they learn the rules to live by their own rules. They lead their own life and it rubs off on everyone on how you should live your own life > teetering the edge of danger and fortune. Also someone who'll give it to you the realest despite being the biggest clown "Black kid get shot, white man get tazed, Media spread lies, politicians get paid, Doctors wanna drug you up so you can reach an early grave, Prisons wanna lock you up so they can fill up every cage Make fifty cents an hour, they gon' work you like a slave, Government gon' play dumb but they know everythin' " - Meechy Darko 'kill us all'

Sun in the Tenth - "Who speaking about me? oh. he ain't shit" - they acting better than everyone, and its fake until it isnt. No one knows when they made it because they always acted like they did. They dont brag they let the audience speak their volumes, hum their symphonies, play their drums, tickle their balls, and they just the orchestrator of it all. Because they doin the most, and they know everyone gonna talk about it so no need to even speak on it. Classy about it too. They on the top and they don't wanna leave so they acting humble but everyone know they really feelin themselves, but hey who wouldn't "I might be too strung out on compliments, Overdosed on confidence, Started not to give a fuck and stopped fearing the consequence, Drinkin' every night because we drink to my accomplishments" - Drake 'headlights'

Sun in the Eleventh - Trend setters who leave their shit stains on every social setting they enter. They got this influence about them thats hard not to notice, because they have at least three people fawning over em, and they not doing shit. Always trying to spread their influence, so if you want someone to back you its them, because their word is worth more due to their connections. And the easiest way to connect is technology and they all up in the software and getting a hard drive about it. They say some outta pocket shit, but thats where the influenza comes from I guess. They somehow everywhere and no where at the same damn time "It's ironic you talk jail time, But you ain't never seen no central booking (yeah) It's ironic you hang with a n***a that beat women And have the nerve to call yourself "Girl Pusher" Wow! You ain't real, I'm gonna show you how I really feel - JPEGMAFIA 'baby im bleeding'

Sun in the Twelfth - Lonely introspective dreamy creative types. Is what you could say if you wanna sum them up. But there is much more to them, but they are so afraid of letting anyone in because they are so sensitive. Their empathy and ability to look at things from different perspectives is what sets them apart, and they want to be set apart, because they feel alone, and don't wanna pretend they your friend if they ain't. They are extremely creative to a fault, and a lot of people would rather make fun of their works then celebrate how special it is. Until it is widely acknowledged how gifted they are, then everyone will switch up around them. But they will never forget who said what, because they above the whats; aint got time for someone who thought they were just a what "'Cause I'm out there, Tried to tell you that I'm out here on my own, I told you I was out there, Tried to tell you that I'm out here on my own,I fell down to Earth, From a hundred miles away and somehow I still make it work, But it's overrated and somehow played out" - Oliver Tree 'alien boy'

[ourtalechara]

... thoughts? (Full idea under cut)

What if someone who knows how to use vocal synths like. Made a vocaloid version of Hamilton. Assign each member of the cast a character that sings for them. It'd probably be a community project if it happened, because that's a big undertaking, but it would also be more fun as a community thing. I don't really know how to use these programs, (I have tried to make Teto say things, and technically I have succeeded in making her say things) BUT I can brainstorm casting ideas with my limited knowledge of fanon Vocaloid personalities!

As indicated by the picture above Hatsune Miku would probably take the role of Hamilton. Her being the most popular Vocaloid makes her a prime candidate for title character. Also I just like the image above with Miku's silhouette on the star with her name.

Idk who Burr would be. Flower maybe? Off the top of my head. Is there someone who it would make sense to oppose Miku in the way that Burr does? An anti-miku? Neru? Nah, I've got better plans for Neru...

You can't spell Laurens without L en. You can spell Philip without it, but that doesn't matter, he's going to be playing that role anyway. It just feels kinda natural for me, as he's pretty young and boyish, which fits Philip, and I feel it fits Laurens too. There's no Len's-relationship-to-Miku-mirrors-Laurens-relationship-to-Hamilton to this or anything, I'm pretty sure that's the case for most of these.

Lafayette is Teto this is a fact. They're both so silly and they like baguettes they're the baguette bois I need this so bad someone give me a Teto cover of guns and ships and I will love you please I feel this in my soul.

Also, I like the idea of Teto in the second act wearing a flashy red coat and debating with Miku in the cabinet. She's perfect for this role.

Mulligan/Madison? Uh. Idk. Again. Flower? Again? Maybe Fukase? I will probably form a stronger opinion on this/borrow someone else's opinion later.

The Schuyler Sisters!

I'd say MEIKO has good strong eldest sister energy fit for Angelica. Also they're both red.

For Eliza, my first instinct is to say Luka, although there's also a voice in my head saying Gumi, and there's also probably someone outside of my head who has another idea that might be better. ?

Rin has big "and Peggy" vibes.

For Washington I want to say KAITO or Guackpo, like, a tall, imposing man. KAITO would be perfect if it weren't for the fact that in most fan works I've seen, KAITO's pretty goofy, and Washington really isn't. I think that that's probably just bias though, he's not always like that. He could make a great Washington. Idk much about Guackpo but it could probably fit. He's a samurai. I don't know if that has anything to do with anything, but maybe it could.

Philip Schuyler as Neru. I initially thought of this as a joke, as Schuyler doesn't speak a word himself, and Neru has no official voicebank (I personally headcanon her as mute), but Neru as his second act counterpart, James Reynolds, could be really interesting? Neru hates Miku so much that she decides to extort her for money and ruin her career? It feels very in character for Neru to do some of this stuff in a way, it just feels right I guess.

So that's. Most of the main characters. Or all of them. Unless I'm forgetting someone. I have no ideas for side characters other than the Neru ideas. I feel like the utau default voice whose name I don't know off the top of my head should be in there somewhere. Maybe. Maybe the one with the big blue thing on her head. The young one. In positive dance time. Idk there's lots of Vocaloids and lots of characters (but there's more Vocaloids) and I need to end this post now goodbye.

[cherienymphe]

YES girl spill the ☕️ shatter them hearts I need to consume dark dark Peter!

"She asleep?"

Peter looked up from the paperwork in front of him, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as he pushed the contents of it to the back of his mind.

"Yeah. She'll definitely sleep through the night again..."

He couldn't stop the small chuckle that escaped him at that, recalling how your eyes had drooped after your second orgasm of the night. You'd been a whimpering mess, sleep threatening to take you from him before he was able to come.

"Good. If this house wasn't so big, she would've woken Sarah up several times over with all that screaming she used to do," Steve sneered, and Peter closed the folder in front of him. "...and then you'd have no choice but to put her in the basement then."

"You want me to put her down there anytime she doesn't smile," Peter scoffed, standing and shaking his head. "She's not Peggy, you know. You can't tell me how to discipline my girl."

"You're too soft."

It was something Peter had heard before, many times, and not just from Steve.

"Didn't Peggy make a run for it the first two times you let her out of the house?"

He didn't even try to hide the smugness in his tone, and at Steve's sour look, Peter's smile grew.

"Y/N didn't even try...didn't even take another step away from me," he proudly reminded him, making his way to the bar and making a face at the selection. "So, knock my methods all you want, but give it another month, and she won't even want to leave me alone."

"Or she's biding her time."

Steve's tone was teasing, and Peter gave him a look because they both knew that wasn't true. You were a mess, not even knowing which way was up half the time, and Steve knew that you didn't even have the capacity to fake anything. It was something Peter liked about you, how open you were with what you were feeling at all times.

"...or I'm just that good and she won't get enough of me," Peter told him.

Steve sat down with his drink, taking a sip of the brown liquid.

"You already know what I'll always suggest."

How could Peter forget?

The first time Steve fucked Margaret out there for the whole household to see, Peter had hoped that when he finally chose his wife, he'd never have to resort to that. He wasn't knocking Steve's methods. They were effective, after all, but Peggy's love for Steve had bloomed from a place of fear.

Peter didn't want that.

He liked that you looked at him as some sort of shield from the strict blond, like some twisted savior. He could still remember the near breakdown you'd had when Steve had mentioned him going back to work. He'd never been harder in his entire life than he was while hearing you beg him to stay.

Not even when you'd been digging your nails into his back and drawing blood from his skin.

"I'm starting to think you just really want to see Y/N naked," Peter drawled, turning to look at the blond.

Steve didn't respond, a small teasing smile dancing along his lips, and even without that glint in Steve's blue eyes, Peter knew the answer to that accusation.

"I want to see her completely broken down and humiliated...yes. She needs to be put in her place, Peter. Reminded who is actually in charge," he told him, taking another sip. "...and what better way to do that than to strip her down and remind her of what and who she's made for?"

Peter rolled his eyes.

"She wants to behave like a brat? Then tame her like one. She wants to behave like an animal with no home training? Then train her like one," he slowly said. "She needs to understand that she no longer belongs to herself, but you, and the best way to get that through her head is to show her that you can and will do whatever you want with her and she'll have no choice but to take it and accept it."

Steve's lip curled over his teeth.

"No more tantrums, no more crying fits at the table. Just pure obedience."

"Or..." Peter slowly began, walking around the room. "I can make myself her only safe space, her only confidant, to the point where the mere thought of upsetting me will make her feel bad."

His dark eyes met familiar blue ones, and Steve smirked to himself, shaking his head.

"Her friends are dead, she's never seeing her mom again, and I am the only support she has," Peter reminded him. "Why would I scare her into obeying me when I could make it so that she thinks chooses that all on her own?"

He grabbed the rest of Steve's drink, and Steve merely gave him the stink eye for that.

"Come on, big bro. You know how that saying goes..."

Peter downed the rest of it, the corner of his lips curving upwards.

"You catch more flies with honey."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Someone New 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’ve had a crush on your best friend for years, but you’re slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor

Note: why am I so anxious all the time?

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

If Peggy’s party promised everything would change, the ‘yes’ you give to Arturo pays on that promise. Almost at once, everything is different. Your boring, orderly life is suddenly thrown into chaos. You have a hundred worries at once and not enough times; passport, visa, packing, flights. Not too mention all that you’re leaving behind; apartment, furniture, and... friends. 

It’ll be good. You keep telling yourself that, just like Arturo, just like Sam. They seem more excited than you are. You struggle to see past the grief of saying goodbye to the life you built there; the life you built around Steve and false hopes. It’s foolish and naive but it still hurts. 

And you’re scared. Norway. It’s far away. And you’ll be all alone. You survived college because you found Steve; you could stomach the furor of the city for Sam and Bucky, but on your own, what could you do? You’re not brave or bold or anything like that. 

It doesn’t matter. You’re going to work. To forget. Focus on the dig, don’t think about everything else. 

You’ve already lost so much. Steve’s busy, you are too. Maybe that’s good. You have to condition yourself for the trip. For a new life. A year is a long time. You feel like the newly graduated teen heading off to college, the one who walked into the wrong lecture hall on that fated day, the one he picked out and put firmly in her place; a friend, just a friend. 

As you sort through your closet, tossing fabric into one pile or the other, your music stops playing and your phone buzzes loudly against your nightstand. You hurry to pick it up as that noise makes your neck bristle. You hate it. 

You pick up without checking the display. You hope it’s the visa office. No, it’s Sam. 

“Hey, chicky poo,” he chirps from the other end. 

“Chicky poo?” You echo flatly. 

“Hm, you’re right, I’ll keep workshopping,” he chuckles, “so you’re leaving in a week?” 

“As long as my paperwork shows up,” you sighs and cross your arm over your middle. You sway as you look around at the clutter of your bedroom. “And I can get all this shit out of my place.” 

“When’s your flight?” He asks pointedly. He’s not subtle. Men never are. For years, you’d hoped Steve was being subtle and look how that turned out. You know now he was so obviously not into you.  

“Thursday, 5am,” you answer. 

“Ah, that’s pretty early to be hungover but it will be worth it.” 

“Hungover?” You wonder as you slowly sit on your bed, “why?” 

“You’re leaving us so obviously, you need a final hurrah,” he insists, “I’m throwing you a going away party. Just the four of us, unless you have any plus ones?” 

“Going away party?” 

“Neither of the other jerks are gonna do it,” he scoffs, “nothing fancy, promise. Just some drinks.” 

“What about Tuesday? Give me a day to recover?” 

“Wednesday works. Steve’ll be back by then.” 

“Back by then?” You must sound like a parrot. 

“Oh, yeah, the lovers went up north to look at venues for the engagement party. Too bad you won’t make it. I’ll have to drink myself into a stupour all by myself,” he intones. 

“Yeah, sorry about that,” you grumble and pick at a wrinkle in your pants. 

“Don’t be sorry. You deserve this. I’m so fucking excited for you,” he chimes, “you have to tell me everything. I want pictures of vikings and castles and stuff. All of it.” 

“Sam, I’m just going to be digging,” you mutter. 

“And? You can’t just go over there an put your head down. Go sightseeing, go out on the town, have a wild one-night stand--” 

“Sam,” you drone. 

“You need it,” he cackles, “it’ll be a story to bring home with ya. Make us all jealous with your wild Norwegian adventure. Hey,” he pauses and sucks his teeth, “you’re like Uno reversing a whole country. Vikings used to invade others, this is your chance to go right in there and raise hell.” 

“You’re stupid,” you laugh and shake your head. 

“Never said otherwise.” 

“Hm, fine, Wednesday,” you agree, “if I'm gonna be there, I gotta get all this shit packed.” 

“Did I not say if you need anything? I can help,” he offers. 

“No, no, I got it,” you say, “really, it’s not that much.” 

“Right, well, I should get back to it and let you do the same,” he says in a resigned tone. 

You hang up and heave. You put the phone down and drop your head into your hands. You feel like you should cry. You’ve felt that tide of tears pushing on your eyes since the party but they just won’t come. All that tension is driving you mad but you just can’t dislodge the nail driven deep into your chest. 

💟

Your life is hectic but you’re not surprised Steve isn’t part of the whirlwind. Why would he be? He has so much going on. A wedding is much more important than what could possibly be the most spontaneous and naive decision of your life. Impulsive more than anything. Cowardly when you think about it. You’re running away because you can’t face the truth. Because it’s just easy to leave your emotions in New York. 

Still, you thought you’d hear more than this. More than a thumbs up emoji or hearsay from Sam. Even after your conversation on the balcony and his reassurances, you still feel his discontent. Will he really miss you that much or is he just upset you won’t be there to celebrate the love of his life? 

It doesn’t matter, does it? 

It’s gone so fast and you hope the next year goes just as quickly. That all this passes. Not just the trip but everything else. The sadness, the pain, the fear. You try to be positive. You thought college was scary and look how that turned out. 

Ugh, you’re really doing this. You're leaving is all behind. You’re leaving your friends and your family and your home. You have no one to blame but yourself. You could’ve gotten over Steve Rogers a decade ago. More than that. You couldn’t rip the band-aid off, you had to pull it slow so ever hair rends painfully from the flesh. 

The GPS guides you between the shining marquee. You can see the pulsing dot of your destination on the screen. You don’t drive towards it, instead hunting for a parking spot among the cramped lots and lined curbs. You should’ve taken a cab but you’re only having one drink and you’re saving for the inevitable expense of hurling yourself halfway across the world. 

You get out and grab your phone, your purse hooked over your elbow. You raise the small screen and get your bearings, squinting as you set yourself in the right direction. Just across and at the end. 

As you approach the bar, you stop short. This isn’t exactly the flavour. Well, not for them. You peer up at the neon light in the shape of a martini, a bright pink beacon, under which a large group of women cluster. Whoops and hollers go up as they enter and leave you standing out in the technicolour-tinted night. Did you get the address wrong? 

You check your messages with Sam. No, it’s correct. Strange. Maybe he didn’t know. 

You pull open the violet-shaded glass door and peer around as you step out of the way of the patrons behind you. You text Sam to check if he’s there already. You can’t seem to keep up with the clock hands these days.  

As you wait for a response, you glance around. It’s like a Sex and the City reenactment. The guys always teased you for your rants about Carrie Bradshaw’s selfishness. They weren’t much for the genre. With them, it’s sports bars and beers and what ball game is in season. They never notice your cute new earrings or your efforts to spruce up your work clothes with a flashy belt. 

‘Here. You’re looking cute.’ Sam’s response comes.  

You narrow your eyes and stand on your toes to look around. He’s sitting at a tall table with Bucky, the two of them looking out of place before the feathered centerpiece and glitzy wall art of high heels. You can’t help a grin. This is absolutely ridiculous. 

You weave through the tables and bodies, past the bar of gabbing girl groups and a few men mixed in. You near your friends and claim one of the tall stools around the round table. You use the bottom bar to haul yourself up onto the seat and hang your purse from your knee. 

“Hey, this place is... sparkly,” you look around with a dumb smile. You can’t help it! You never get a girls’ night. 

“It is,” Bucky agrees in a grit. 

You stop short. You look at him then at Sam. You didn’t notice before. They’re wearing bows on their heads. Sam has a head band with a gregariously big pink ribbon, whereas Bucky has a glittering purple bow pinned into his thick locks. You laugh and smother it behind your hands. 

“What is this?” You snicker. 

“We are your ladies tonight!” Sam announces and shifts to stand, bending under the table, “and you get to be queen bee!” He reaches to the floor and you lean to see the huge tote underneath, “here is your tiara!” 

He pulls out the plastic tiara with fake pink gems and white feathers. You giggle again as he places it on your head. This is too much. 

“Sam! How—this is so stupid. You didn’t have to do all this.” 

“What? It’s about time. Don’t worry about us. It’s all about you,” he snaps his finger and points at you, “we’re going to order girly cocktails and dish on the cute dudes.” 

Bucky shakes his head as he fixes the bow in his hair, “I wanted a flower.” 

You bring your hands down to your next and wiggle on the seat giddily. This is amazing. Your eyes sting and your throat locks up. You’re going to miss these idiots. 

“You guys,” you breathe. 

“No crying!” Sam claps his hand, “I already got this guy moping around.” 

“I’m not moping,” Bucky sniffs. 

“We have to decide who’s who. I know you hate Carrie so we’ll save that for Steve. He is the stuck up blond, after all,” Sam smirks, “I’m definitely Samantha, it’s already in my name. And you,” he points at you, “Miranda. The level-headed one who has to put up with our BS. That means Bucky--” 

“Charlotte?” Bucky frowns, “can’t I be Stanford?” 

You nearly gasp, “Bucky, are you a stan?” 

“I’ve seen some episodes,” he shrugs. 

“Well, that’s decided,” Sam checks his watch, “where’s that bozo?” 

You frown and look around. You look at your phone. You were just on the cusp but Steve is late. Bucky takes out his cell too and all three of you scroll through your screens. 

“Whatever, we don’t have to wait for him, drinks,” Sam blacks the screen and sets down his phone. He reaches for the pink pleather drink menu, “I was looking at the Paradise Punch. Sounds interesting.” 

“Mm, I’m just having one,” you state, “I gotta drive home.” 

“Pfft, don’t worry about it. You can get your car tomorrow.” 

“Sam, I leave at five in the morning.” 

“Fine, I’ll take care of the car. You’re storing it, aren’t you?” 

“I wouldn’t expect--” 

“Tonight is going to be fun. No arguing,” he points a long finger at you. 

The phone jitters and his phone lights up. He picks it up as your cell remains lifeless in a rare moment of peace, though it’s fraught nonetheless. You peek over at the empty fourth stool. 

“He’s not coming,” you utter. 

Sam huffs and puts his phone down, “he’s not. Peggy has a work dinner and he’s invited.” 

“Oh,” you nod and try not to deflate entirely, “that’s... that’s fine. He said he’d come to the airport but I wasn’t counting on that either.” 

“Asshole,” Sam sneers. 

“Hey, no,” you shake your head, “he’s busy. He has a wedding and all that--” 

“You’re going away,” Bucky surprises you with the emotion in his tone, “and he can’t be here.” 

“Really, it’s not--” 

“It is,” Sam insists. “How long are you gonna let him walk all over you? Isn’t that why you’re leaving?” 

“It’s work, it’s nothing to do with Steve.” 

“Sure,” Sam accepts hotly, “keep telling yourself that.” He cringes and swallows, “tonight isn’t about him. For once. It’s about you. Us. Having fun. Saying goodbye. It’s gonna be terrible without you. I hope you know that.” 

You could laugh at his rebuke. The conflict between celebratory and reproachful is amusing. You exhale and put your hands up. 

“Alright, I got it.” 

“Buck,” he gestures to the other man, “go.” 

You turn to the Bucky and he slides off his stool. He reaches down under the table and brings up a gift bag. Your mouth falls open. Your chest tweaks, a mixture of glee and guilt. You’re happy to have friends with them but you feel so bad for not seeing it earlier. For being so tunnel-visioned that you couldn’t appreciate them fully. 

“This is so—you didn’t have to,” you say. 

“We did. Obviously,” Sam scoffs, “don’t worry, my gift is the grand finale.” 

“Right,” you smile and accept the bag from Bucky. You push through the tissue paper and pull out the heavy shape inside. You reveal it and just as quickly hide it back in the polka dot bag, “Bucky!” 

You let go of the taser and retract your hand. Sam guffaws and Bucky gives a confused grimace, “you need it.” 

“What?” You hiss. 

“You’re going to be all alone over there. You should be safe.” 

“I... appreciate the thought but it’s a bit extreme.” 

“He’s right,” Sam adds, “you know, going to the land of the vikings, you can never be too safe. I’ve heard they like to carry women off in their boats.” 

“You two,” you roll your eyes. 

“My turn,” Sam says, “you’ll love this.” 

He once more searches under the table and the tote crinkle. He pulls out an envelope and you tilt your head. Really? 

“Money?” You wonder. 

“What am I? Your grandma?” He snorts, “here.” 

You take the envelope and turn it over. You pull the flap open and reveal a pamphlet within, along with a second slip of paper. A reservation... 

“I found this place over there. It’s at some coastal castle, there’s a spa and all that. They do like ancient types of treatments, hot rocks or whatever,” he explains, “I made sure you can adjust the dates too if you need. You just have to call.” 

“Wow, that’s... Sam, I’m going to be so busy--” 

“I told you not to work yourself too hard. That’s a good excuse for you to get your head out of the dirt. Literally. Just think of me when you’re in a mud bath with a glass of champagne.” 

You put the envelope next to the gift bag and drop off the stool. You open your arms to them. Sam is up first and Bucky drags himself to his feet. You wrap them in a hug and they do the same in turn. It must be an absolutely ridiculous sight but you don’t care. You tuck your head against Sam’s arm and feel a rumble in Bucky’s chest. 

“Sam, that’s my ass,” Bucky snarls. 

“I was just making sure you didn’t forget your wallet,” Sam chuckles. 

“You’re a moron,” Bucky pulls away and shoves him. 

“Peas in a pod, bud,” Sam lets you go as the hug breaks up, “now, I need a drink and you...” he points in your direction, “need a double.” 

[veltana]

Mafia AU prequels - Steve's break-up

✦ Pairing: Stucky/Fem!Reader ✦ Word count: ~1k ✦ Rating: Teen ✦ Warnings/tags: hurt/comfort, mild swearing, lots of fluff and feels, platonic cuddling, mention of peggy carter, sharing a bed. ✦ Summary: Steve is heartbroken and you're worried. ✦ Note: This is a prequel to No one as sweet as you set while they were living together in college, which focuses on their growing relationship and how Bucky and Steve started to develop feelings for Sweets as more than just their best friend. You don't need to read No one as sweet as you to get this but I recommend it. (Also posted on AO3)

Series masterlist

Masterlist | AO3

The door has been closed for five days, or at least not opened while you’ve been awake. You stare at it and chew on your thumbnail, so engrossed in worry that you don't notice Bucky coming up beside you until he puts his arm around your shoulders, startling you. “Sorry,” he frowns but you wave it away. "He hasn't come out yet?" You shake your head. "Have you knocked?" You nod. "What did he say?" "Told me to go away," you mumble.

At that moment Steve's door opens and his disheveled face appears. He hasn’t shaved and the stubble together with his bloodshot eyes and swollen face makes him ten years older. Seeing him like this makes your heart ache and you can’t help the small breath of his name that slips from your lips, out of instinct you reach out for him, but he pulls back and you quickly retreat.

"Leave me alone," Steve says with a tired voice and you take a step back but Bucky has had enough. For someone so wide, he moves quickly and you barely register it before it happens.

In a flash, he grips the back of Steve’s neck, pushes him down until he’s bent over, and grabs his arm to push it up against his back. "No," Bucky answers. "You have been in there for days, you smell like shit and you look even worse."

Steve tries to argue, “Buck, if you don’t fucking let me go right this goddamn second I’m going to fuck you up until-” You don’t think you’ve heard Steve curse so much through your whole friendship but Bucky is unfaced as he drags Steve out and towards his own room. You follow behind them, a little horrified by Bucky's treatment.

"You are gonna take a shower, eat dinner with us, and then we're all getting some fucking sleep." Bucky releases him inside the bathroom of his room and then closes the door behind him.

He glares at the door, daring him to open it but when the shower turns on both of you head to the kitchen. While Steve gets clean, you and Bucky look through the fridge for dinner. It’s not much for three college students but Bucky is excellent at making something out of nothing and you’re happy to assist.

“He’s so fucking stubborn,” Bucky complains. “Reminds me of someone else I know,” you murmur and then chuckle when Bucky gives you a sideways look, but you wave the carrot you’re holding at him threateningly and he smiles.

Steve steps out of Bucky’s room a while later, looking a little better, dressed in some of Bucky’s clothes. Without saying another word he steals a piece of the carrot you’re chopping and walks up to Bucky, who turns to him and opens his arms.

Steve doesn’t even hesitate to wrap his arms around Bucky’s waist and bury his face in his shoulder. Ladle still in one hand, Bucky hugs him back and you turn back to the vegetables. They exchange low words that you can’t quite make out and you’re happy they can find comfort in each other.

Suddenly arms wrap around your waist from behind, lifting you and causing you to drop the knife, making it clatter on the counter. “Hey!” You begin but Steve doesn’t listen. Instead, he spins you around and puts you down so he can turn you towards him, before lifting you again to place you on the kitchen table.

“Bucky says you’ve been worrying,” his voice is soft as he cups your face, his eyes are red and tired, but also laced with concern. Tears burn in your eyes too, because you hate seeing him like this, but you won’t cry, not when he needs you. It’s so typical of him to worry about your feelings when he can barely keep it together. Taking a steading breath you explain, “Of course, it’s tough seeing you this heartbroken.” And place your hands on the outside of his.

“Can I-” Steve hesitates and you squeeze his hands, encouraging him. “Can I hold you? Just for a second?” He’s so timid when he asks but you smile at him and hold out your arms. “Take as long as you need,” you tell him.

Steve’s arms wrap around you again and much like he did with Bucky he buries his face in your neck. You caress up and down his back, his nape, run your fingers through his hair and don’t comment when you feel wetness on your skin.

Steve’s not always talkative when he goes through something, but if he’s tactile at other times, it’s amplified when he's sad. So when dinner is ready he sits between the two of you and makes sure your thigh is resting on top of his and that Bucky’s arm is pressed against his own while eating.

When all of you are done, Steve gets up first and grabs the dishes. Bucky and you follow and together you help clear the kitchen and it's like everything is normal for a few minutes.

It's not even eight but Bucky points toward his room. "Go." So you take Steve by the hand and he doesn't protest. More often you use Steve's bed because it's a little bit bigger, but his room is always littered with art supplies and since he's been in there for a while it's probably a bigger mess than usual. And your bed is too small to accommodate all three of you.

Lifting the covers you let Steve climb in first before dimming the lights and then sliding in beside him. Immediately he pulls you in until you're lying on his chest and that's how Bucky finds you. You can make out a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth and you know it’s not because he’s happy about Steve’s situation, but because just like you feel, it makes him happy to see Steve find comfort.

It's a tight fit but Bucky tucks himself into Steve's other side and finds your hand, tangling your fingers together on top of his chest. A moment later Steve's breath hitches but you don't move, just share a glance with Bucky. Steve cries silently and then starts talking, about how much he misses Peggy and how it feels like he'll never be able to find someone like her again.

None of you try to tell him it will get better, because for him, right now, it will never get better. But with the help of time, you and Bucky will patch his heart until it's as good as new.

next

[captainsophiestark]

The Arena Club

Peggy Carter x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2024!

Requested by @trekkingaroundasgard! Hope you like it Nicola! 💗

Fandom: Marvel

Day Seven Prompt: "Follow me if you want to live!"

Summary: The life of a reporter can get a little dangerous, especially when going after powerful, deeply corrupt men like those in the Arena Club. Thankfully, Peggy Carter's around to help in a pinch.

Word Count: 1,943

Category: Fluff, Action?

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

The evidence presented in this article is just the beginning. Tireless detective work has uncovered much, much more, which we hope to verify and expose to the public as soon as-

I broke off typing abruptly, my attention snapping up from the typewriter in front of me. A thud had just come from somewhere else in the office, and I knew for a fact I was the only one here.

I'd decided to stay late to make sure this story got finished in time to go out tomorrow morning, and I'd been words away from finishing it up. I'd been investigating a conspiracy with deep roots in LA for a long time now, and I finally had the evidence put together to expose them, once and for all. Unfortunately, having a bunch of knowledge about a shady secret society had made me jumpy as hell for the past week at least.

I waited, listening for anything else out of the ordinary. When I didn't hear anything after a few long moments, I took a deep breath and returned my attention to my typewriter.

Almost at the exact same time, the door to the room came flying open. I snapped my head up and shot out of my seat, reeling backwards as three armed men flooded the office. My heart almost stopped in my chest when I felt someone take my hand from behind, and I whirled around to see a beautiful brunette woman staring at me.

"Come with me if you want to live!" she said, pulling me away from my typewriter and the armed men all at once. My brain froze, but it was clearly unsafe to stay here, so I followed her. Even through the shock, I knew she was a better option than the guys with guns.

I followed the woman through the back hallways of my office building, the sounds of crashing and gunshots echoing behind us. My heart raced, but she seemed calm as could be as we ducked around one corner and through another door.

We wound our way through the building and gradually down the stairs, the woman me never once pausing to check directions or look back at me. Finally, we made it out a door on the first floor into the back alley and she dropped my hand. I was surprised to find that I was a little disappointed.

"Get in!" she called, pulling open the driver's side door of the car. I hesitated. She'd definitely helped me out of a tight spot upstairs, but getting into a car with a stranger was a whole different situation.

Apparently, she noticed my hesitation. She stopped halfway through climbing into the car and came back to me.

"I'm sorry, I forgot to introduce myself, didn't I?" She reached into her jacket and pulled out a badge, which she held up for me to read. "Agent Peggy Carter. I'm with the SSR. We've been chasing the same group you've been investigating for quite some time now. We can protect you from them and their men in the building, but we have to go right now."

I just blinked at her for a moment, until a shout from somewhere inside the building finally snapped me out of it.

"Okay. Okay, yeah, I'm coming. Thank you."

She nodded and gave me a smile, then started the car as I climbed in the passenger seat. We pulled away just as the men from before came busting into the alley behind us.

We turned a corner onto the main street before they managed to take a shot at us. I slumped back into my seat with a sigh.

"You alright?"

I turned more fully to face Agent Peggy Carter behind the driver seat. She kept her eyes on the road, speeding through the LA traffic as fast as she could. I sighed.

"I... I don't know. Nothing that's happened in the past ten minutes has felt real. Those guys were really going to kill me, weren't they?"

This time, Peggy spared a second to glance in my direction. She looked sympathetic, which was all the confirmation I needed.

"They were, yes. They're the enforcers for the group your story's about. The Arena Club. We've been dealing with their members for quite a while now."

"Is that why you were there tonight? You knew they were coming after me?"

Peggy hesitated. "Not... exactly. I was more there to scope out the situation, see whether you'd uncovered anything we hadn't yet. I saw the enforcers on my way up to your office, and realized I might need to take a more active involvement."

I huffed a laugh that was mostly an adrenaline release.

"Well. I guess that was lucky."

Peggy shot me a grin. "Yes. I suppose it was."

I shook my head, a small smile spreading to my own face despite myself. Probably the shock just hadn't worn off yet. But something about Peggy's energy was just contagious.

She continued to weave through traffic for a while, apparently working to put distance between us and anyone who might be following us. At last, we pulled up outside a building and Peggy put the car in park. I glanced out my window, then frowned when I saw the window decal for a talent agency.

"Don't worry," she said, opening her door. "It's a front for the SSR. You'll be safe here."

I nodded, following her out of the car and into the darkened building. After our mad-dash through my office, I was a little jumpy, but Peggy quickly led me to the back rooms and through a literal secret doorway into the heart of the SSR.

I trailed behind her, head on a swivel as we walked into a well-lit office building. A few people milled around despite the late hour. Apparently the work never really stopped here.

I followed Peggy into a bigger room filled with desks. Only one other person was there, and he looked up the moment we entered. His brow furrowed as soon as he saw me.

"Peggy? What happened?" he asked. She came to a stop just in front of him, and I followed her lead. "I thought you were just going to scout the place out."

Peggy sighed and put her hands on her hips as she answered.

"That was the plan, but they attacked at almost the same time I arrived. So, now we're here."

The guy sighed, looking absolutely exhausted. He closed his eyes for a moment, then took a deep breath and nodded as he opened them again.

"Okay. I'll get some guys on the scene to collect evidence."

"I'll take care of our guest."

They nodded to each other, then Peggy turned to me with a smile.

"Right this way."

I followed her, still feeling a little out of it. Armed men had burst into my office less than twenty minutes ago, but my brain just wouldn't let me process it. Every time I tried, it shut me down.

Peggy seemed to notice something in my expression when she led me into a smaller room with a couch and a table. She gave me a soft smile as she motioned for me to take a seat on the couch.

"You look like you could use some tea," she said. I shook my head as I sank down on the edge of the couch. I looked around, the nerves coursing through my body despite my brain still not having totally processed the reasons for them.

"I think I'm okay, thanks."

"Please," she said, pausing to look me in the eyes. It stilled me for a moment, grounding me and giving me room to take a breath. "I promise, a warm cup of tea will help. It's a big one for us Brits. We swear by it."

I huffed, the ghost of a smile finding its way onto my face.

"Well... okay then."

She gave me another reassuring smile, then started making a cup at the kitchenette taking up the opposite wall. We must've commandeered the break room.

"So... what happens now?" I asked. "I mean, my story was supposed to break tomorrow morning-"

"We're most likely going to have to delay it slightly, but you should still be able to put it out at some point soon," she said, returning to me with two cups of tea in hand. She held out mine, and I sipped at it. She was right; it helped.

Peggy sat down opposite me on the couch with her own cup of tea, giving me a soft smile. I barely knew her, but somehow, she managed to put me more at ease.

"We have almost everything we need to put the Arena Club and their lackeys away for good," she continued. "But we have a few holes in our evidence. I was hoping you might be able to help us fill those holes."

I nodded slowly, mostly in thought. I wasn't sure what I might've found that the SSR hadn't, but if those men had come after me, maybe I was a better investigator than I realized.

"Listen." Peggy set down her tea on the coffee table, turning on the couch to face me more fully. "I know this has been... quite an evening for you. And whether or not you agree to help us, we'll make sure you're safe. But you've clearly put as much work as we have into exposing this conspiracy and trying to take down men with power who think they're untouchable. If you're up for it... I'd be happy to help you continue that work."

I took a shaky breath, then set my tea down on the table, too. Then, I straightened and met Peggy's eyes again, my spine straight despite the lingering shaking in my hands.

"I'm in. I want to help. I've spent a long time trying to take these people down by exposing them to the public, but if I can help you get them off the streets and out of power, too? Even better."

Peggy grinned. "I was hoping you'd say that."

My heart raced as she leaned forward, but then she stood.

"I'm going to go get our case files. We can go through them together tonight, and you can tell us about anything you've found that we haven't. Then, in the morning, you and I can go and gather your evidence and bring it here. Assuming, that is, that you have backups? I doubt anything incriminating in your office is still there."

Now it was my turn for a grin. "Of course I have backups. This isn't my first time exposing some government corruption."

"Perfect. Then I'll be rigth back."

She moved past me towards the door, and maybe it was the lingering adrenaline from the day, but I reached out and took her hand to stop her before I could overthink it. She stopped and turned back to me with a raised eyebrow, but didn't pull her hand away.

"I just wanted to say... thank you. For saving me. And for letting me be involved in the investigation, and everything. I appreciate it. And... I'm looking forward to working with you."

Peggy smiled, and my heart skipped a beat.

"Happy to have you aboard."

We shared a look, then Peggy squeezed my hand and gently let it go. She carried on out of the office, and I watched her go with a smile. I picked up my mug of tea again and settled back against the couch.

Tonight had been absolutely wild, and I knew for sure I hadn't totally processed it yet. And clearly, things were only going to get crazier, since I apparently needed SSR protection for the forseeable future. But still. I couldn't help being a little excited about getting to work closely with Agent Peggy Carter.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

Marvel Taglist: @valkyriepirate @infinetlyforgotten @sagesmelts @gaychaosgremlin

[imaginedanvrs]

my demon gave me everything

part 1 | masterlist

summary: dark!natasha romanoff x reader. Natasha Romanoff saves the world. Morals, lifestyle and past aside, the fact is that she puts her life on the line for everyone else. And for this, she believes she’s owed something. She saves billions of lives on the regular, so why not take the occasional one for herself?

word count: 3.7k

warnings: kidnapping, drugging, stalking, character death, obsessive behaviour

“Hi, Peggy,” you greeted the veteran warmly, pulling her from the memories playing before her in the photos by the impeccably made bed. Though the quality of the crumpled papers weren’t the finest of that generation's technology, the scenes that the woman could recall just from a glance at the hazy faces were enough to bring their characters and stories to the present. In the months that you had known Ms Carter, you had spent hours listening to her adventures from the war, enthralled by every word. Of course, you weren’t meant to have favourites, but Peggy’s life had been unmatched, so naturally, her presence was too. You missed her greatly in the months that followed. 

  “Hello, dear,” Peggy replied with an aged smile. “How are you?” She asked, lifting her hand to you. You took it in your own and rubbed your thumb over the back of her hand with a shake of your head.

  “You know that’s what I’m meant to ask you,” you tutted, though of course appreciating the care she showed. 

  “Yes but I’m not the one on my feet for twelve hours a day,” Peggy was swift to respond. 

  “And I’m not the one that’s fought in a world war,” you countered, earning a soft chuckle from your resident. You placed her hand back down on the soft sheets gently and set about busying around her room. “I heard Steve’s coming in to see you later,” you said as you began watering some of the pots along the window frame.

  “That’s the plan,” Peggy agreed. Of course she understood better than anyone that the job of someone like Steve Rogers meant that plans could be cancelled at a moment's notice. Majority of the time though, he made it. Luckily for the super soldier, the home was discreet enough that he didn’t have to worry about any press or genuine threats interrupting his visits with the woman he loved. The home was tucked away just outside the city and only housed a manageable amount of residents for a small team of staff. It was perfect for a retired war hero, even if she did have some complaints about being in a home to begin with. 

  “I believe he’s bringing Natasha with him as well,” Peggy added. 

  “Really? Do I need to get the spare red carpet for her too?” You quipped as you smiled at the last flower pot, fully aware of the look Peggy was sending your way. 

  “Now dear, don’t you start making a fuss too. You’re the only one who doesn’t treat them like a touring rock band.” Peggy sighed. “You’ll give them a complex.” At this, you couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Bit dramatic, don’t you think?” You chuckled as you folded and put away the cardigan that wouldn’t be needed for the rest of that day. 

  “I don’t think so, dear. Things aren’t how they used to be, you know?” You smiled as the familiar rant about the changing world started again. “When me and Steve fought, we fought for freedom and only that. Now you have so many so-called ‘super heroes’ out there showing off their gifts for the crowds instead of using it for good. And that’s not even the worst of it. I’m sure some are all together corrupt,” she said with a disappointed frown. “Steve earned his abilities because he’s a good man but there are some that-” Peggy’s rant was cut off by the chesty coughs that stole her breath. She leaned forward to best support herself as you grabbed her glass of water and knelt besides her, masking my worries as best you could. It was easy for you both to forget the veterans age and limits. 

  “Take it easy,” you encouraged with a gentle hand on her back. Peggy gratefully took the water and allowed it to ease her irritated throat before leaning back into her bed with a tired sigh. “Okay?”

  “Best I’ve ever been,” you hummed and refilled her glass before setting it on the bedside table again. 

  You took Peggy’s hand in my own once again and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I should hope so, you have to come with me next time I go back to England,” you said matter of factly. Prompting Peggy to chuckle, more than happy to go along with the fantasy. 

  “Ah yes, I still haven’t met the queen and she’s been on the throne almost as long as I’ve been alive,” Peggy exclaimed. 

  “Would be pretty nice if she could pay for our plane tickets,” you added to which the older woman continued to chuckle just as a light knock could be heard from the other side of her door. 

  “Come in,” she invited, the hope in her voice clear and thankfully rewarded when Steve poked his head around the door with a broad smile to the older woman that he extended to you after a second. You placed Peggy’s hand back to her bed just as a shorter woman crept in behind Steve. 

  “Oh Steve,” Peggy beamed with a twinkle in her eye she reserved solely for the Captain. 

  “Hey Peggy, how’s my favourite girl?” He greeted, his eyes just as full of love as Peggy’s as he knelt down where you had been a second before. “Hi, y/n,.” he said, his voice still nurturing. 

  “Heya Steve,” you smiled back and glanced away from their embrace. Too often did you try to live through them in hopes of experiencing a love nearly as strong as theirs some day. 

  You glanced towards the silent woman who was already looking at you with interest. “Hi,” you muttered, finding it near impossible to hold such an intense gaze for more than a couple seconds - not that you were the first to find difficulty in making eye contact with the world’s greatest assassin, of course. She was the Black Widow. For a second you had to remind yourself that she was a good guy and that you had nothing to worry about. 

  “Hi,” she replied, a friendly smile taking over her features so smoothly you wondered if it was sincere. 

  “I’ll leave you guys to it in a minute but before I go, Peggy, are you comfortable?” You asked. “Not too hot?” You knew the older woman didn’t like to make a fuss and that if you didn’t ask then, she wouldn’t say anything until her visitors left.

  “A little,” you were glad to hear her admit, “perhaps there’s no need for the extra blanket.” You nodded in agreement and took the extra blanket off her bed and put it away in her cupboard to grab again before the night. “Thank you, dear,” Peggy said with a grateful nod. 

  “No problem, just shout if you need anything,” you said as always as you made your way out the room and shut the door behind you, unaware of the eyes that followed you the whole way. 

*

Natasha didn’t believe in any kind of instant connection. She had never looked at someone and felt a desperate need to have them, kiss them, date them, fuck them. It had simply never occurred and she didn’t believe it happened to others. She believed anything remotely close to ‘love at first sight’ was some bullshit horny people told lonely people in order to get in their pants faster. You were no exception. 

  What Natasha did experience was interest. Interest of woman she would typically define as her ‘type’. It wasn’t that she saw a hot woman and wanted to fuck them, instead, Natasha saw fragile women and wanted to break them. She wanted to surgically remove every part of them that made them the picture of innocence and ruin it. Because no two people are the same. No two people can have that many overlapping traits. Everyone was unique which meant everyone had a unique way to be broken, that was what sparked Natasha’s interest. 

  In less than a minute in the same room as you, the spy had watched how you interacted with Peggy, a vulnerable lady that you had ensured the comfort of. She had watched how unfazed you were by two superheroes that many had paid thousands just to shake hands with. It had sparked her interest and made her wonder how you would respond to numerous scenarios. She wondered what you would look like when your mind and body had been broken, if it would be any different than the women before.

  The one thing Natasha knew for sure was that she was going to find out. 

*

Peggy’s death came two weeks later. Steve couldn’t be there at the end but he thanked you that you were. You held her hand as she passed and told her it was okay, managing to hold back your tears until her final breath. You all knew this meant she wouldn’t have to suffer anymore, but the absence of her presence was felt across the home and would for a while. 

  The funeral was a blur, a lot of people were invited, unsurprisingly. Peggy had touched many lives that you were beyond grateful to receive an invitation yourself, even if you didn’t know anyone there except for Steve who had enough people to greet. You stuck to the back of the hall and made small talk with a few people and managed to hold back tears until the end of service when you snuck away to the bathroom. 

  After ten minutes of hardly effective breathing exercises you found on the internet, you made your way back out, hoping to say goodbye to Steve before you left but figured he had to leave early as he was nowhere to be found. You tried to make an unnoticed exit but the small touch to your back told you that you failed in that. You spun around to see Natasha with that same, slightly off, smile you hadn’t forgotten.. 

  “Hey,” she greeted, putting her hands back into the pockets of a coat that probably cost more than a year's worth of your salary. To be fair, she saves the world. 

  “Hey yourself,” you said with a weary smile, hoping your eyes weren’t too red from crying. She looked perfect. 

  “Y/n, right?” She tested.

  “Yeah and you’re… Natasha was it?” You tested back, making the redhead’s smile become more real.  

  “That’s me,” she chuckled. You eased up slightly, finding her presence less intimidating than your last meeting. “How are you? I mean, how are you doing?” She continued, her softer gaze becoming more watchful again. You wondered then if that was just her way of showing she was listening and giving her full attention. 

  “I’m alright,” you lied. Natasha noted it internally. “How are you? How’s Steve?” Another note. 

  “I didn’t know her all that well but Steve’s not having the easiest time.” You nodded, recalling the affection that never faltered when he looked at Peggy. “He’ll be okay though, he’s a tough guy.” 

  “Is he here?” You skimmed the faces in the crowd once more but still couldn’t find the blond.

  “No, he had to go,” Natasha said.

  “He doesn’t need you to help save the world with him?” you teased to try and distract from the resurfacing raw funeral feelings. 

  “It’s not bad enough to require my skill set,” the spy quipped with some undisguised smugness. You hummed. That was pretty hot. “So seeing as there’s nothing that requires my immediate attention, you need a ride home?” Natasha offered with expecting eyes.

  “Thank you, but I can just order an uber I’m not too far-”

  “Then you won’t be out of my way then,” Natasha called over her shoulder as she headed for what you could only guess was the flashiest car on the grounds and left no room for arguing. You trailed along behind her as Natasha opened the eagle doors from her keys while you pretended not to be completely awestruck by the vehicle and its driver. 

  “So was this a gift from Nick Fury or…?” You asked as the spy revved the engine and swiftly made her way out of the parking area and started on the long lane out of the grounds. 

  “You could say that,” she smirked, making you wonder if there was a story behind the car's ownership. “Do you drive?” The redhead asked instead. 

  “Um, no. Haven’t really gotten around to it, you know, what with moving here a year ago from England and all.” You admitted in a quick attempt to cover the embarrassment you always felt when people asked. 

  “That’s fair.” Natasha nodded understandably. “Besides, what are you? Twenty?” She continued with her eyes staying on the road. 

  “Nineteen,” you corrected. Natasha hummed and you suddenly wondered how old the Avenger was. Definitely not too old for you to see her as attractive but probably too old for her to see you as attractive, as if that were ever a possibility. 

  Once you reached the main gates to the grounds, Natasha pulled up her screens map and asked you to put your address in then continued on in that direction. 

  “So how long are you planning on staying in the states?” The spy inquired. 

  “My visa doesn’t actually last much longer than a year so I’ll have to head back home soon.” You explained, counting down the weeks before your flight.

  “Oh? You reckon you’ll come back?” Natasha continued, stopping herself from pushing as much as she wanted to.

  “I’m not sure yet. I mean it’s pretty nice here but it’s not home, you know? That’s where I want to be.”

  “Yeah, nothing beats that,” the older woman muttered. You were about to ask Natasha about her own home when the car pulled to a stop outside your three story apartment building. “But I suppose this is it for now.” 

  “Pretty different to yours, I bet,” you mused, only imagining the kind of place she lived. 

  “Wouldn’t you like to know,” Natasha chuckled. 

  “Kinda,” you admitted with a light laugh as you got out of the fancy car. “Well, thanks for the ride, it was fun,” you smiled gratefully towards the redhead. 

  “Anytime,” she winked and sped away once you were a couple steps back. As you watched her go, you assumed that would be the last time you ever saw Natasha Romanoff. 

*

It’s pretty nice but it’s not home. That’s where I want to be.

  Natasha had pondered on that as she pulled into the rusting garage, only being lit by the glow from the inside of her car. She tapped her steering wheel and considered what that meant for her. It meant you were going back to England and you probably weren’t coming back. The redhead hummed as she pulled up your visa on her tablet, seeing the expiration date was only a couple months time and concluded you could be leaving any day between now and then. When she returned home she would find what date you had booked your flight for so she could know for sure. 

  That was new. The spy had never faced a deadline with any of the past women. It was exciting, adding a new risk she hadn’t encountered before. It made the challenge all the more enticing. With that on her mind, Natasha left the garage through the back door and had to give it several kicks when shutting it back into place. 

  Shit hole.

  The building wasn’t really that bad, more just a little run down because it was in the forgotten part of town, just outside the busy city that had no time to acknowledge it. Natasha, being far more used to her luxury penthouse suite in the heart of New York, thought it was below her and couldn’t wait to show you just how differently she lived. 

  Once the redhead made her way up to the top floor, and assuring no one was around to see, she slipped inside the empty one bedroom apartment and headed straight for the window at the opposite end of the living space. Sitting in the sturdy foldable chair, Natasha peered through the S.H.I.E.L.D issued camera that was already staring right into your bedroom window down the street. 

  You were crying again. Natasha tutted. She had liked getting a sneak peak at how you looked when you cried the first time, but had since grown irritated that she wasn’t the one causing those tears to fall. It made her agitated and grew her need to have you. 

  When you finally took your shirt off, the spy’s interest peaked again and she gave a light groan. It was only the second time seeing you without it and the first time had only been through your webcam. You usually knew to close your curtains when getting changed but the emotions clouded your better judgement. 

  Such a dumb pup. 

  You dipped out of view to remove your bra so Natasha switched tabs on her laptop to peer through yours. Turned off. She switched to my phone. In another room. 

  “Fuck,” Natasha huffed, pulling a cigarette from its packet on the windowsill and grabbing the lighter from her pocket. She held the flame against the end and waited for the orange glow to send off its small grey whisps. 

  The Avenger had put cameras in some of the other women’s apartments, but given that she was able to see through several of your windows from across the street, she didn’t deem it necessary for you. She preferred it that way. She wasn’t exactly desperate to see you naked. That wasn’t a big part of it. She just wanted to see you. She enjoyed learning your small habits from afar, they would help in a few days. She enjoyed seeing you all on your own and knew it bothered you. You craved companionship and it would make you more open to hers the more desperate you got. It was just a shame she couldn’t drag it out for longer. 

  When you reappeared, you were in my unicorn pjs. Natasha smiled at the innocence of it all. Nineteen. The redhead didn’t usually go for women that young but you were an adult by law so she deemed it okay. Besides, she knew of your exes. She knew that older women were your type and that thirty definitely wasn’t too old. The spy also knew those exes were inadequate and what Natasha could offer you was something you had yet to experience from anyone, even them. She wondered just how badly you craved it and how soon you would admit it to her.

  All that mattered was that you would never experience it from anyone else. 

*

Several days passed since Peggy’s funeral and things were returning to how they were before you met the veteran. Her room at the home was still empty and you hoped it would be until you left. That would always be Peggy’s room. Thankfully, you were able to distract yourself throughout your working days by completing unnecessary tasks to make the day go quicker and stop your mind wandering too much to how lonely you were again. Peggy had been a friend, granted an unlikely one but a friend at that. 

  You were able to keep yourself preoccupied outside of work too. Whenever the weather permitted, you headed out into the parks in town with your sketchbook and spent hours, sometimes most of the day, doodling pretty much anything you could see. The crowds of flowers around the edges of the park; the moments different wildlife crosses paths; the unique landscapes when the city turned to town; the families and couples enjoying the last of the summer. Everything had a spot in your nearly full sketchbook that you had gotten especially for your trip. You were hoping to recreate them digitally when you got home. 

  The silver lining in it all was that you slept soundlessly through the nights. From the moment your head hit the pillow you were fast asleep and woke up feeling refreshed until grief gave you a sudden slap. But it wasn’t just you that benefited from my new found deep sleeping habits. In fact, it was what made Natasha able to make her move so fast. 

  It was 3:36 when the spy stepped foot in your apartment. She crept around without a single breath to be heard and peered around the studio apartment. Due to the layout, Natasha was able to see your sleeping frame as soon as she stepped into your living space. You were of course sound asleep when she saw you, but Natasha still noted where the creaky floorboards were and swiftly manoeuvred around your apartment. 

  The redhead didn’t make her way immediately to you as she knew you wouldn’t stir. Instead, she took some time to feed her curiosity and opened the cupboards in the kitchen she hadn’t been able to see. You had a lot of snacks, most of which Natasha didn’t approve of, and less ingredients for actual dinners. She knew you weren’t much of a chef and more often than not just put a collection of snacks on your plate for dinner than cook. The older woman would fix that for you soon enough. 

  She was pleased to see that you kept the studio pretty much spotless. There was no washing up left out, no crumbs on any surfaces, the floor didn’t need to be moped. She wouldn’t mind if you managed to stay in her home a while. 

  After a few more minutes of assessing the rest of your living space, Natasha continued back to you and hovered over your sleeping body for a while, knowing you wouldn’t have a rest this peaceful for a while. Luckily she had something to make sure you could make the most of it. The syringe in the leather pocket was only a slim one with a needle small enough that you wouldn’t feel it in your sleep. She traced along your neck with the back of her finger before sinking the needle in and flushing the liquid into your system, ensuring you would be no trouble when getting home. 

  “That’s it, detka,” Natasha cooed when you turned onto your side facing her and nuzzled further into your pillow. She leant down and placed a gentle kiss on your temple and the trace of a smile fluttered across your lips. “Get lots of rest.”

[siancore]

SamBucky | E | 2.7k | AO3

Summary: Steve doesn't deserve Sam. He doesn't want Sam as much as Bucky does. Bucky knows this, and now he will get the chance to show Sam.

Content: Anal Sex; Rimming; Tender Railing; Not Steve Rogers Friendly; Language

A/N: Written because of this conversation. Dedicated to @jemgirl86

The hushed sounds can be herd through the walls of the bathroom. Bucky thinks it sounds like Steve and Sam are having a disagreement, but he cannot be sure. Their ‘relationship’ has been tumultuous from the get-go and he has often found himself present with Steve when Sam and the former are at odds.

Bucky combs his hair and muses that Sam deserves better. Better than his friend who will not commit. Better than not being at the center of the whole entire universe. Bucky has certainly had enough of watching Steve put Sam through this farce of a relationship; he can only assume Sam has had enough, too. With a sigh, Bucky checks himself over in the mirror and then exits the bathroom, making a beeline for the common living area he shares with Steve.

There, he finds Sam sitting on the small sofa and Steve standing near the door. The tension between them is palpable. Steve looks apologetic, Sam looks annoyed.

“Everything alright?” asks Bucky of Sam.

“It’s fine, Buck,” says Steve firmly.

“Ask your friend,” Sam replies at the same time.

Steve sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose before saying, “I’m not doin’ this right now, Sam.”

“Nah, of course you’re not,” Sam replies. “You’re runnin’ off to get your dick wet somewhere else, uh?”

Steve narrows his eyes, grabs his jacket from the hanger, and says, “This thing between us ain’t that deep and you know it. You know that. Christ just grow up, Sam.”

He then walks out of the door and slams it behind him. Bucky looks from the door to Sam as Sam gets up from the sofa and rushes into the nearest bedroom, closing the door behind himself.

…..

“Sammy?” Bucky calls out as he raps gently on the door. “You okay?”

He hears some mumbling from the other side.

“Can you unlock the door, please?” he asks. “It’s my room, remember?”

There comes the sound of footfalls and then the click of the lock. Bucky turns the doorknob and pushes it open. He finds Sam standing there looking annoyed.

“You okay?” asks Bucky, reaching out to place a comforting hand to Sam’s upper arm.

“Yeah,” Sam replies, placing his hand over Bucky’s and giving it a squeeze. “I am so fucking done with Steve. He’s a dick.”

Bucky nods his head and then closes the door behind them.

“I know you’re not exclusive. I know he runs between you and Peggy. I know that’s not what you want.”

He sees the pang of hurt flash in Sam’s eyes before Sam drops his head.

“He’s not good enough for you.”

Sam looks up through his long, pretty lashes. There’s the hint of a question forming there. Bucky keeps talking.

“He doesn’t want you like I do.”

“Wh- what?”

Bucky lets out a little amused laugh and says, “Come on, Sammy. You gotta know how much I want you.”

There is a change in the air as it is suddenly filled by tension. Of all of the words Bucky has wanted to say to Sam; every confession that ends up stuck in his throat. Of all of the deep feelings swirling around inside of him. All of the late nights spent awake because he cannot shake Sam from his mind. The aching in his chest because he cannot remove Sam from his heart. There is a change in the air and they both feel it.

“Well,” asks Sam nervously, his pupils dilated. “What were you waiting for?”

“For you to give me a chance,” Bucky replies.

“A chance for what?”

“To show you how much,” he says while reaching his hand up and cupping Sam’s face.

He can feel the slight tremble as he holds Sam’s jaw. Sees how Sam’s lashes flutter against his cheeks as his eyes almost close. Can feel the heat of Sam’s breath as he ghosts his thumb over Sam’s parted lips. Feels his own heart hammering in his chest in anticipation.

“Show me,” Sam whispers softly against the pad of his thumb and Bucky almost doesn’t hear him.

“What’d you say, Baby?” he asks.

“Show me,” Sam repeats. “Show how much you want me.”

Bucky smiles, then. That is all it takes to cement in Bucky’s mind that this is going to happen. He is going to have Sam; to show him what real want feels life. He moves closer, keeping his steely gaze fixed on Sam’s.

Bucky knows what he must look like to Sam, the moment Sam’s eyes widen as he crowds his space and backs him against the wall. He must look feral with want as a look of abandon and pure lust covers his handsome face.

Sam bites his lip and Bucky’s eyes track the movement. He rubs his thumb over the spot, causing Sam to release his lip from between his teeth, just before Bucky leans in and takes Sam’s willing mouth in a kiss.

Bucky’s gluttony for Sam leads him to swipe his tongue along his lips to deepen the kiss. Sam takes it in stride, matching Bucky’s fervor as he sucks on Bucky’s eager tongue and melts into the kiss. Bucky holds Sam in place. They spend some time exploring each other’s lips before pulling apart, breathless.

Bucky cups Sam’s face and stares into his eyes before saying, “I knew you’d taste sweet.”

Sam giggles – fucking giggles – as he dips his head slightly and looks up through his lashes.

“I’m not always sweet,” says Sam as he bites his lip once more.

Bucky smiles at him and says, “I know.”

Then, he brings his lips to Sam’s jaw, pressing kisses right up to his ear, before trailing them down to his neck. Bucky’s hand slides down to the curve of his neck, his thumb resting over Sam’s pulse point, as he bites and laps at the skin there. Sam lets out a needy moan that goes straight to Bucky’s dick.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ hot, Sammy. You know that, right?” asks Bucky, scorching against Sam’s skin.

Sam’s hand comes down to cup Bucky through his sweatpants before he says, “I know you’re hot for it.”

Bucky covers Sam’s hand with his own, guiding him down the length of his hardening cock as both of their breaths hitch.

“Let me show you,” says Bucky.

Sam swallows hard and nods his head before saying, “Yeah. Yes, please.”

Their lips come crashing together in a desperate, heated kiss, as Bucky’s hands move to Sam’s ass. He lifts Sam and wraps his legs about his waist, not breaking the kiss. Sam clings to him as he carries him toward the bed and lays him down. Bucky covers Sam’s form with his own as he settles between Sam’s legs.

“You want this, right?”

“Yes, Buck. I want this. I want you.”

Bucky gives Sam’s lips one more kiss before he leans back onto his knees and then shuffles off the end of the bed. He pulls his shirt over his head, keeping his eyes locked onto Sam who mirrors him. Bucky steps out of his sweats before helping Sam to remove his pants. His eyes roam hungrily over Sam’s body and his smooth, dark skin. Sam is breathtaking. Bucky can’t look away.

“I knew it,” says Bucky as he climbs back onto the bed, placing his hand to Sam’s thigh.

“Knew what?” asks Sam, looking somewhat shyly at the other man.

Bucky leans down, presses a kiss to Sam’s thigh, and says, “I knew you’d be perfect all over.”

He kisses his way up to Sam’s abs, sucking and biting as he goes. Sam threads his fingers through Bucky’s hair and relishes in the feeling of his lips and teeth; the way his stubble drags across Sam’s skin. The way his hardness rests against Sam’s thigh. A shiver courses through Sam’s body as Bucky kisses his chest and then makes his way back up to capture his lips in another searing kiss.

“Can I fuck you?” Bucky whispers against Sam’s lips. “Wanna fuck you raw, Baby.”

Sam moans and tightens his grip on Bucky’s hair before saying, “Yes, shit yes. Do whatever you want.”

Bucky smiles against Sam’s lips before kissing him hungrily. Then, he pulls back, dragging Sam’s lip between his teeth. His hands find Sam’s hips as he flips him over onto his hands and knees. He runs his palm over Sam’s plump ass, tracing the delicious curves, admiring the stark difference of their complexions.

He cups Sam’s ass with both hands, an appreciative growl slipping from his lips as he spreads Sam’s cheeks and sees his pretty, puckered hole. He licks his thumb, presses it to Sam’s opening, and watches it pulse as if to draw Bucky in. Bucky salivates at the sight. He leans down and presses his tongue to Sam’s hole, eliciting a pleasured moan from the other man. He licks and sucks at Sam’s entrance, while reaching between his legs to take hold of his dick.

Sam curses out loud and grips the sheets as Bucky alternates between eating his ass and sucking his cock from behind. He wants to worship Sam; to revere him. He wants to show him exactly what he has been dreaming of doing for the longest time. How he has wanted to taste Sam. How he has wanted to take Sam apart.

He pulls off of Sam’s cock and gives him a few more strokes before rubbing his finger over Sam’s hole once more. He places wet kisses to Sam’s back as he reaches over him grab the lube from his nightstand. He kneels behind Sam and uncaps the lube, pouring a hefty amount onto his fingers. He takes a moment to warm up the substance before pressing the pad of his finger to Sam’s opening.

“Hmmm,” Sam moans as his hole pulses again, as if trying to pull Bucky in.

“Fuck,” says Bucky, as his cock is set harder still.

He grips hold of Sam’s hip and teases his entrance. Sam whimpers, almost pleadingly, as Bucky circles his hole. His cock leaks precum onto Bucky’s duvet as he rocks backward, trying to get Bucky to press into him.

“You want more?” asks Bucky, to which Sam moans in the affirmative.

Bucky give’s Sam’s ass a squeeze and says, “Alright. I got you, Baby.”

With that, he eases a finger inside of Sam’s tight heat. Sam is so hot. Takes his fingers so well. Bucky’s cock pulses out of jealousy. He adds another finger and begins to work Sam open. His moans urge Bucky on. The way he clenches around Bucky’s fingers spurs him forward. He curls them deftly and Sam calls out his name. Bucky almost comes then and there. Instead, he takes a deep breath and continues to finger fuck Sam’s pliant little hole.

Sam spreads his legs wider and rocks back, trying to take more of Bucky. Begging with his body and his needly little whines. It’s almost too much for the both of them. Sam, being taken care of, and Bucky, watching Sam take what he needs.

“Fuck, Baby, you’re pretty like this,” Bucky whispers, low with lust.

“More, please,” Sam manages as he fucks himself back onto Bucky’s lithe fingers. “Please, Buck.”

Bucky curls his fingers once more, eliciting another pleasured yelp from Sam, before removing them. Sam almost cries at the loss. Instead, he turns around to look at Bucky. What he sees nearly makes him pass out. The sheer want in his gaze. The darkness of his eyes. The need therein.

Bucky holds Sam’s gaze as he slicks his cock and then presses his large crown against Sam’s hole, open and willing. He places his knees behind Sam’s, pushes inside, and both of their mouths fall agape from the searing heat. Sam’s head drops to his forearms as Bucky’s eyes roll closes.

“Fuck, Sammy,” Bucky breathes as he bottoms out.

“Jesus, Buck,” Sam whimpers as he spreads his legs farther apart, pulling Bucky in deeper.

Bucky swears he sees stars as he withdraws to his hilt, and then snaps his hips forward. Both men let out deep, guttural moans as Bucky thrusts inside of Sam again and yet again. Chasing the moans that are almost drowned out by the forceful sound of damp skin smacking against damp skin. Bucky watches as his thick cock slips in and out of Sam’s pretty hole over and over for as long as he can.

He needs to see Sam’s face. He needs to see him. Bucky fucks into him a few more times with more fervor, before he pulls out, grips Sam’s hips, and rolls him to his back. Sam reaches for Bucky and pulls him down into a wet, desperate kiss. Their bodies mesh together, slick from sweat, chests heaving with each pant. Bucky slides against Sam, pressing Sam’s hardness deliciously against his firm abs. Sam moans into the kiss as he wraps his legs around Bucky’s hips. Bucky reaches between them, takes his dripping cock in his hand, and slides back inside of Sam. He kisses away their moans and begins to fuck Sam once more.

He is truly beautiful like this, Bucky finds the presence of mind to realize, as he rocks on top of Sam. As they hold one another and take their pleasure. In this moment where nothing else matters but what they are feeling.

Sam’s composure crumbles first as Bucky strikes at his spot just right. He clenches his thighs tighter, pulling Bucky deeper, and then he comes hard, with thick, white ribbons coating both of their chests and abs. Sam’s pulsing around Bucky’s cock pulls his orgasm from him. Bucky tenses a beat and then fills Sam with his seed. Both men collapse in a sweaty heap and fight to catch their breaths. Bucky kisses Sam’s damp brow as he slips his spent cock out of Sam.

After a moment, Bucky goes to get a warm, wet towel and returns to his bedroom. He finds Sam lying on his stomach with one leg bent at the knee. He’s stunning as he lies there coming down from his climax. Bucky stares a moment longer, his cock twitches at the sight of his come dribbling from out of Sam’s well-fucked hole.

“I got you,” says Bucky as he begins to clean Sam gently; Sam allows it, relishing in that feeling of being taken care of.

When Bucky is pleased with his efforts, he pats Sam’s ass and says, “Hop up a sec, let me change the covers. We made a mess.”

Sam looks at him and says, “Dude, I don’t think I can stand after that.”

Bucky lets out a little laugh, reaches out a hand, and helps Sam to his feet. He wraps his arms around Sam’s waist and stares into his eyes. They share a soft, chaste kiss before holding one another and swaying together.

…..

Later, the sheets are clean, and Sam and Bucky are spooning in the bed, sated and happy, with a movie playing on Bucky’s laptop. Bucky runs his hand up and down Sam’s arm and peppers soft little kisses to his neck.

“I meant what I said before,” says Bucky, causing Sam to pause the movie and roll over to face him.

“What?” Sam asks as he tucks Bucky’s hair behind his ear.

“Steve,” Bucky starts. “He isn’t good enough for you. You deserve better. You deserve better than to be held at arm’s length. Treated so fuckin’ casually. You deserve the world.”

Sam’s breath catches at the sincerity behind Bucky’s words. He reaches his hand down to cup Bucky’s chin, resting the pad of his thumb in the small dimple there.

“And you wanna be the one who gives it to me?” asks Sam, almost afraid of the answer.

“If you’ll let me,” Bucky whispers in reply. “Doesn’t have to be today or tomorrow. I’m not makin’ assumptions because we had sex. If you need time, I’ll wait for you until you’re ready.”

“Really?” asks Sam.

“Yes, really,” Bucky supplies in earnest. “I care about you, so fucking much.”

“I care about you, too,” says Sam before leaning in to kiss Bucky’s lips. “Will you really wait until I’m ready?”

“Yes,” Bucky promises with a kiss to Sam’s brow; a promise of a future together; a promise of care and consideration. “You are so worth it, Sammy. You are so worth the wait.”

[imyourbratzdoll]

Could you do Bucky's POV for "she was his angel and he was her knight"? I would just want to know if Bucky did feel guilty but he was just hiding it.

I like your storys very much wether if it's smut, fluff or angst!❤❤❤❤

hi honey! thank you so much!

this is a sort of part 3 of you aren't nat, and she was his angel and he was her knight.

summary - bucky tries everything to destroy your happiness.

warning - angst, no happy ending for bucky.

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips and @firefly-graphics

“So… You fucking my best friend now?”

The words echo in Bucky’s head.

“Can’t say I’m surprised. You have always been super easy.” 

He stares at himself in the mirror, following the bruises he received.

“I bet he wishes it was Natasha or maybe even Sharon. Do you really think anyone would want you as their first choice?”

His hand opens and closes. 

“Why should I? It’s not like you like her, and she’s just your rebound because you can’t have who you really want.” 

Bucky’s eyes connect with his own.

“Go on, Stevie. Tell her the truth, c’mon. Doesn’t she deserve to know that you aren’t better than me?”

His anger grows inside of him, remembering it all.

“You can’t take me, Steve. You’re weaker than I am.” 

All because of you, Bucky had lost his best friend. You just had to go and spread your legs for anyone who paid you enough attention, and Steve was the poor soul caught in your web. Bucky hated you and had hated you ever since he met you. When you asked him out, he found the perfect opportunity to make Natasha jealous and possibly hurt you simultaneously. Bucky really had no reason to hate you. When you met him, you welcomed and treated him like family. But the more you hung around him, the more he had grown to hate you, and now he hated you even more because you’ve turned his best friend against him. 

Bucky had come out of his room and headed to the loungeroom, noticing you and Steve curled into each other and Natasha and Sam the same. He scowled. He wished you would just disappear. No one wanted you here. He smirked. Maybe he could prove that Steve was just using you, yeah. He’d do that, and there’d be no way you’d ever compare to the Peggy Carter. He abruptly left the room, coming up with the perfect plan. 

A few weeks passed, and you and Steve were happier than ever, and it was pissing Bucky off. He smiled as a woman walked into the room and toward him. She was the spitting image of Peggy, which should make you see that no one wants you. “Bucky?” He nods, surveying her and feeling happy she kept with the 40s style. “What exactly am I doing?” 

He smiled charmingly, “You're just going to be my date to a party. Is that okay?” She nods, linking arms with him, and they head off to the party Tony had organised. More like yours and Steve’s engagement party, but if Bucky had it his way, there’d be no engagement, wedding, or you. They had entered the room, and Bucky grinned when Steve’s eyes widened slightly. His focus was on the woman beside his ex-best friend. When you saw what Steve was looking at, Bucky's smile widened even more. The smile on your face had fallen.

Bucky began to lead the woman over to the happy couple, feeling his heart skip happily as Steve’s gaze focused on the Peggy look-alike. “Hello, I guess congratulations are in order.” He watched you gulp, your eyes flickering between Steve and the woman. “Oh, right! This is my date.” She smiled, introducing herself and shaking your and Steve’s hand. 

Steve squeezes your side and smiles. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Steve, and this is my beautiful fiancee, Y/n.” Bucky frowned, wondering why he was now looking at you, not the woman he had brought. Steve’s eyes moved to Bucky’s icy blue ones and hardened. Bucky didn’t know that Steve wasn’t like him, even if he liked to think he was. Steve really did love you. He had loved you when you first met and loved you through it all. No other woman could compare to you, and Bucky had to realise that. 

Months after the party had passed, and Bucky tried everything to get rid of you, to hurt you. But it seemed like nothing fazed you anymore. Steve had clouded your mind from Bucky, and he couldn’t even ruin your wedding. 

Bucky sat outside, glaring at everything, not noticing Steve making his way over. “You know, she never did anything to you.” His gaze moved, and he glared more, “I don’t know why you hate her, and I don’t care anymore. You need to stop trying to ruin our happiness, do you understand?” Steve stared into the distance, where you stood, hand placed gently on your stomach.

“Please, you don’t love her.” He grunts as Steve slaps him across the back of his head. 

“Shut the fuck up. I love that woman with my entire being. We’re happy, Bucky. You should’ve been there as my best man. You should’ve been happy for me. You should be the fucking godfather to my child! But for some fucked up reason, you hate my wife. She treated you like a human from the beginning, and you just threw that kindness away. For what fucking reason?” Bucky stared at his old friend as Steve spoke, tears in his eyes with every word. “You don’t even have one. I don’t even know who you are anymore.” 

And with those words, Steve left, leaving Bucky alone. And for many years, Bucky would continue to be alone.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.