#Steve rogers!AU

[moonpascal]

self insert x canon will always hold a special place in my heart

[witchywithwhiskey]

the alpha next door

pairing: alpha!steve rogers x omega!female reader

summary: you and your neighbor are harboring feelings for each other, but both of you think the other is too sweet. then, things take a turn when your first heat since moving in hits, revealing the depth of your feelings for the alpha next door—and his for you.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), omegaverse AU tropes (heats, knots, purring, mating, scenting), piv sex, breeding kink/pregnancy kink (reader's on birth control tho), accidental voyeurism, masturbation (m + f), dirty talk, praise kink, daddy kink, little bit of mommy kink, size kink, pet names (baby), mutual pining, idiots in love, dual pov

word count: 8.9k

a/n: here's my entry for @stargazingfangirl18 and @labella420's Cum Together Extravaganza!!! i used the A/B/O AU and breeding kink prompts—and this is my very first omegaverse fic!!! so uhhh please be kind because i don't know what i'm doing 😅 also loosely inspired by "too sweet" by hozier!! anyway, this ended up a lot longer than i thought it would be....whoops!! hope y'all enjoy!!!

When you first moved into the little pink cottage next door, Steve Rogers decided that you were too sweet for an ex-soldier alpha like him. An omega like you was filled with sunshine and gentleness, and you deserved an alpha who would treat you like the precious thing you were. 

The kindest thing Steve could do for you was stay away. The thoughts you inspired in his alpha hindbrain had him hating the rough and greedy animal side of himself. He wanted to dig his fingers into your plush hips and bend you over, make you present your pretty little body in the way the alpha in him craved. 

But he reminded himself you were too sweet. Too sweet for the obscene thoughts that plagued his mind. Too sweet to be defiled by a big alpha like him. Too sweet to be swollen and round and glowing because you were carrying his child…

Still, you were his neighbor and Steve couldn’t avoid you entirely, even though everything he saw only reaffirmed his belief that you were too good for him. 

The little pink cottage beside his house had come with a front garden filled with pink roses and all manner of other pink flowers that Steve couldn’t even begin to name, but you tended to them like you’d planted them yourself. Steve would get home from work, park his truck in his driveway—which had a perfect view of your front garden. He’d watch you from behind his tinted windows as you took care of your flowers, looking like a garden fairy come to life.

When Steve eventually grew uncomfortable with how long he’d been watching you, he would get out of his truck and call a gruff hello to you as he made his way inside. Your melodic voice returning his greeting would follow him into his house, where he’d close his door and lean against it, panting like he’d just escaped a warzone while his cock strained against his jeans. But Steve wouldn’t stoop to jerking himself off to the thought of you—at least not while you were just outside. 

On weekends, Steve would work in his backyard, mowing the grass and tending to the shrubs that ran along the line separating his property from yours. When the weather was nice and pleasantly warm, you would sit out on your small back porch, curled up in a wicker chair reading some book or another.

Steve would offer to mow your lawn, just for an excuse to stay outside longer, and be a little bit closer to you. You’d let him, and thank him for his efforts by giving him some ice cold lemonade, smiling up at him while he drank it. Steve wasn’t the least bit surprised the lemonade was more sweet than tart. 

As the weeks and months passed since you’d moved in, Steve couldn’t help but feel his desire for you growing, becoming a living thing curling around his heart, making it beat for you. You were the sweetest and prettiest omega he’d ever met, and he’d be lucky to be your alpha, but he kept his distance, certain you could do better than him.

That is, until your first heat after moving in next door changed everything.

That was when Steve learned you were far more than the innocent little omega he’d determined you to be—you were a creature of sex and desire, made to take an alpha’s knot and be pumped full of come in the hopes that their seed would take root in your womb. When your heat hit fully, your keening wails echoed from your cottage, and they were a siren song that called directly to Steve’s alpha heart.

But he kept himself away. After all, there were polite ways of going about these things, and he’d never even asked you out on a date, so he certainly wasn’t going to assume you wanted his help to get you through your heat. Besides, you hadn’t asked for him to join you, anyway.

That didn’t stop Steve from keeping an eye on you, though.

He’d noticed the slight change in your scent a few days before your heat truly set in, his cock reacting even more to your perfect omega body than normal. Steve felt like he was walking around with a constant bulge in his pants after getting a single whiff of your scent, but he ignored the niggling feeling telling him he needed to be close to you and did his best to hide his reaction. He knew you had other things to worry about than the comfort of the alpha next door. 

Even though something in him compelled him to go to you, Steve couldn’t bring himself to walk over to your cottage. It occurred to him that even if you didn’t want him to help you through your heat, he could offer to go to the store to get the food and provisions you’d need. But he didn’t. He was worried about what he’d do if he looked into your home and saw your nest and smelled your sweet perfume. 

So Steve kept his distance, watching you from his truck and the windows of his house as you brought home a week’s worth of provisions—protein bars and sports drinks that would keep you nourished enough to make it through your heat. Steve wished he could carry the heavy-looking bags into your home, but his cock was pitching a tent in his sweatpants, and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable with the way his alpha body reacted to your omega scent. 

Finally, as your heat drew closer, you locked up your cottage, closing all the windows and drawing all the curtains. Steve couldn’t help but notice, though, that you left the skylight in your bedroom cracked open a tiny bit. Steve’s alpha hindbrain itched at the thought that you’d only left it open because you couldn’t close it yourself, and he had to hold himself back from going over to your cottage to offer to close it.

Steve knew omegas liked to keep their nests dark and warm and locked up tight. They wanted to keep all the scents created during a heat trapped in their nest, at least until their heat broke. So it was curious that you’d left the skylight open, even a little bit. 

But when your heat hit in earnest that evening, your pitiful whimpers and desperate moans filtering through the open window and directly to Steve’s ears—through the window of his bedroom that he’d thrown open the moment he’d heard you—he forgot about what omegas typically wanted. Instead, all the blood in his body rushed to his cock, making him harder than he’d ever been in his life. 

Steve stood at the window of his bedroom, which overlooked your cottage, his eyes glazing over as he listened to you pant and whine and cry out for an alpha that wasn’t coming. Because of course Steve had noticed that no alpha had arrived to help you through your heat. He assumed you were using any number of the toys that were sold precisely to help unmated omegas get through their heats without an alpha’s help. 

But it meant you were alone, in your nest, riding out your heat on some silicone knot. That thought nearly made Steve storm from his house and barge into your cottage to demand you let him help you, but he reminded himself you were too sweet, too sweet, too sweet for him. So instead, he fisted his cock and listened to your raspy pleas fill the night sky.

“Need your knot, alpha, oh god, please,” you babbled, your voice beautifully melodic to Steve even when you were desperately begging for something he knew he shouldn’t give you. “Fill me up, daddy, I need it—need your knot, alpha—daddy, daddy, alpha, please, please, please!” Your moans grew louder and Steve could only imagine the thick silicone knot that was filling you up the way he should be filling you.

One of Steve’s hands gripped the frame of his window tightly, using the feel of the wood digging into his palm to keep himself grounded as he physically fought with his alpha instincts. He wanted to break into your cottage and rip your toys away from you so he could help you through your heat. Like he was meant to. It should be him inside you, sinking into your warm, welcoming cunt while you looked up at him with those beautiful eyes of yours.

Steve’s other hand gripped his cock, pumping his hard, stiff length with a fist so tight, it was nearly punishing. It helped a little, but his fist was a far cry from your perfect cunt, which would be gushing with wetness and so hot, Steve would feel like he was sinking into heaven and hell at the same time. And when he came, it wouldn’t be anywhere near as satisfying as emptying his balls right against your cervix, pumping your womb full of his seed while knot locked your bodies together so it would be almost certain he’d knock you up. 

That is, if you weren’t on birth control. Which most unmated omegas were, Steve reminded himself.

Still, the alpha in him was a beast barely caged—he wanted to breed you. 

Steve wanted to see you impaled on his cock and his knot, so bloated from how full you were with his come that he could see it in the way your belly bulged, giving a preview of what you’d look like growing with his child. He wanted to knock you up, he wanted to see you swollen and round with his pup. 

He wanted to keep fucking you even as you carried his child, watching you bounce on his knot, your tits swollen with milk and your belly big and round while he tried to fill your womb with another before you’d even popped out the first. Steve wanted to keep you pregnant all the time, your pretty little omega body always ripe and swollen with his pups, taking his knot and his come every moment of the day so he could make sure you were always glowing with the radiance of motherhood.

It was that image of you—beautiful and knocked up, your eyes hazy with pleasure that came only from being impaled on his cock, and being locked on his knot—that made Steve come. 

He grunted as the pleasure of his fist and his thoughts of you finally became too much, wrapping both his hands around his thick length, one squeezing his knot while the other pumped the rest of his shaft. His come erupted from the tip, streaming over the windowsill and dripping down to his bare feet on the wooden floor of his bedroom.

A growl tore from Steve’s lips while he came, a deep, dark part of his alpha hindbrain responding furiously to the fact that he was wasting his seed. He should be emptying his balls deep in your fertile cunt while your slick walls gripped his knot and milked every drop of his seed into your womb, where it belonged. 

Steve’s release seemed to last for ages, longer than he’d ever experienced before, and if it wasn’t for the fact that his head finally started to clear when it abated, he would’ve been worried he’d gone into rut. But finally, Steve surfaced from the depths of his pleasure, and winced when he remembered the thoughts that had made him come.

Steve was appalled by the direction in which his imagination had gone, and felt guilty for imagining you in such a state as pregnant and bouncing on his cock—even as the reminder made his cock leak one last spurt of his release. Cursing and castigating himself, Steve moved away from the window to clean himself up and wipe down the spot where he’d been standing. 

The entire time he was cleaning up after himself, Steve felt off-balance. He’d never felt such a pull toward an omega before you, and he’d never been so close to going into rut just from listening to an omega whimper and moan. If he didn’t know better, he would think you were his mate—the one omega in the whole world who was perfect for him. 

But Steve pushed that thought aside and reminded himself you were too sweet for an alpha like him. You might’ve sounded desperate and needy while you suffered through your heat alone, but you deserved better than an alpha who could think of nothing else besides pumping you full of come and knocking you up with his child.

Steve felt disturbed all over again when he thought of the vivid, obscene things he’d imagined while he’d jerked himself off. He’d never been the type of alpha to get off on the idea of breeding, let alone pictured anyone swollen with his kid while they were impaled on his cock. Steve felt so far out of his depth, he swiped his clean hand down his face to try to regain the equilibrium that had been shattered by your pretty omega sounds.

Thankfully, you’d gone blessedly quiet at some point when Steve had been coming all over his windowsill. He tossed the rag he’d used to clean up his mess into the laundry and flopped down on his bed, knowing he wouldn’t be getting any rest that night. It was a good thing he’d called out of work on heat leave.

Even as Steve lay in his bed, the refrain that you were too sweet for him repeating in his mind, he couldn’t help hoping that you were getting some much-needed rest. He’d never been one to worry over much about whether someone was sleeping or eating, but he wondered if you’d had a protein bar and drank a sports drink before falling asleep. He knew you needed to keep up your strength if you’d make it through your heat. 

His thoughts spinning around in his mind, Steve fell into a light, fitful sleep, his alpha hindbrain remaining alert and attuned to the sounds coming from your cottage. Little did he know, it wouldn’t be long before everything would change. Something would happen that would force Steve to finally give in to the connection between him and the omega next door.

When you woke on the second morning of your heat, it was to a burning need cutting through your core, urging you to roll onto your knees and sink down on the silicone knot toy that had slipped from your pussy while you slept. Unbidden, the face of the alpha next door, Steve Rogers, popped into your mind and you sobbed through another wave of aching desire, wishing desperately that he was with you to help you through your heat.

You hadn’t met the alpha until after you’d moved into the little pink cottage next door to his much larger home, and you were instantly smitten with the former soldier. He was big—so much bigger than you—with broad shoulders and bulging biceps that were barely hidden beneath the tight t-shirts he always seemed to wear. But it was Steve’s thighs that were always so distracting to you, so thick they made you want to ride them until your slick was drenching his jeans.

A pitiful moan fell from your lips as you reached between your thighs, grasping blindly for the toy you’d discarded in your sleep. With your face still shoved into a pillow and sleep still clinging to the edges of your consciousness, you slid down on the thick silicone cock, pretending it belonged to Steve. 

The alpha next door was just so…sweet. 

It hadn’t taken you long after moving into your cottage to learn your neighbor’s schedule, and you made sure to always be working in the garden in front of your home when he got back from work. You lived for the growly greetings he would call to you, and the faint blush that would graze his cheekbones, like he was shy around you, his harmless omega neighbor. 

And on the weekends, when you knew Steve wasn’t working, you sat on your back porch reading—though you were more often ogling the fit alpha’s shoulders and arms as he worked in his backyard. The sun would shine on Steve’s blond hair and make him look like a golden god, with sparkling blue eyes that would occasionally flick in your direction, though you didn’t think he was really looking at you.

Of course, when he’d offer to mow your lawn, you’d let him. Then, to show the alpha your thanks, you’d make him some nice refreshing lemonade. If that meant you could watch him quench his thirst while you imagined his sweet mouth on your body, drinking your slick as eagerly as he drank your lemonade, then that was just a bonus to being a good neighbor. Right?

It had become abundantly clear to you that you harbored a crush on Steve, and it was nearly excruciating living next to him when he didn’t seem interested in making a move on his omega neighbor. After all, it had been months, and he’d been nothing but friendly and respectful and sweet. 

It was obvious, at least to you, that Steve was too sweet for you—too sweet to be the rough, dominant alpha you craved. Too sweet to bend you over and impale you on his thick cock with one stroke. Too sweet to shove his knot into your cunt and make you come so hard you saw stars. Too sweet to knock you up over and over again, filling up that big house of his with pups that you’d created together. 

You’d told yourself it was for the best that Steve kept his distance. If he couldn’t be what you needed, then you didn’t want your crush to develop into unrequited feelings. But your heart didn’t listen, so you kept putting yourself in situations where you’d get to see your neighbor—working in your front garden when he got home, sitting on your back porch while he was in his backyard. 

Then, you began to feel your heat coming on, and your thoughts about the alpha next door only worsened. It wasn’t uncommon anymore for unmated omegas to ask alpha friends or acquaintances to help them through their heats, but the prospect of asking Steve for his help, getting to come all over his knot for days on end, and then trying to go back to the way things were sounded torturous. 

Instead, you went about your heat preparations as you always did, gathering supplies from the grocery store and stocking up the minifridge in your bedroom with sports drinks while you piled your bedside table high with protein bars. You closed and locked all the doors and windows of your cottage, drawing the curtains tight to keep out the sun. 

You knew you were a bit of an odd omega, and you didn’t like total darkness in your nest, which was why you had been the only one interested in the little cottage. It had a skylight in the bedroom that any other omega would want closed and covered during their heat. The window itself was covered in a film that dampened most of the direct  sunlight and you enjoyed the natural light, even when you were deep in your heat, so it was perfect for you.

It occurred to you, as you were preparing your room, that if you cracked open the skylight, the sounds you made during your heat would filter out from your cottage. Your desperate cries for a knot might even be heard by the alpha next door…

Later, you’d blame your decision to leave the skylight open on the dangerous combination of your pre-heat brain and the exquisite agony of your crush on Steve. But by that time, the little decision you’d made in the urgency of your heat preparations would’ve irrevocably changed your life—for the better—and you wouldn’t give a thought to regretting what you’d done.

Still, on that second morning of your heat, when you were woken by the need to be knotted and flooded with come, you didn’t even remember that you’d decided to leave the skylight open. So you had no idea whether it was working or not, whether Steve could hear you—but he wasn’t far from your thoughts as you rode your silicone alpha toy, trying to slake the need that burned through your body. 

Your heats were always a little hazy, like most omega’s, with desire and need pounding through your blood so insistently, you couldn’t form any coherent thoughts. Your mind could only focus on getting a cock inside you, then a knot and, if you’d had an alpha to help you, the gush of their come. Since you were so mindless, you uttered words that you’d forgotten the second they fell from your lips.

The first night of your heat, when you’d had a moment of clear-headedness enough to gulp down a sports drink and scarf a protein bar, you’d hoped you hadn’t cried out anything that would embarrass you—like Steve’s name. You’d had a vague memory of calling out for an alpha, which was normal for an unmated omega, and a daddy, which was normal for you, given your desires when you weren’t going through your heat. But you’d breathed a sigh of relief when you didn’t remember calling out for Steve specifically. 

You couldn’t imagine what would happen if you cried out Steve’s name while in heat. But you were about to find out.

The silicone toy in your cunt wasn’t cutting it. It had been just fine that first night, though you hadn’t felt as satisfied as you normally did, and you hadn’t slept as long as you typically did in between waves of your heat. Something about this heat felt different. You weren’t just desperate for an alpha’s knot and come, you wanted more…

You wanted a pup. You wanted an alpha’s cock shoved deep in your cunt, unloading their come against your cervix, filling your womb with a seed that would take and knock you up. You wanted to be bred—and not just by any alpha. You wanted the alpha next door to breed you.

Steve. You wanted Steve. You needed Steve. 

“Please,” you gasped, the word leaving your lips as you thought of your big, sweet alpha neighbor. His face came easily to your mind, those sparkling blue eyes and soft lips, that strong jaw and the way a blush turned his cheeks the most perfect shade of pink. “Please, alpha, need your knot, need your come,” you whined, speaking to the image of Steve in your mind.

You pushed yourself up onto your knees, grabbing one of the many pillows from your bed and shoving it between your thighs, forcing the silicone alpha cock deeper into your cunt. Still, it wasn’t enough, even as you tried to make due. 

You rocked your hips, trying to replicate the feeling of fucking yourself on an alpha’s cock, but it paled in comparison. A desperate whine worked its way up your throat, filling your room and slipping from the skylight into the morning air.

“Please, daddy, wanna have your baby,” you cried, your hands going to your tits and tugging on your nipples so roughly, pleasure and pain swirled through your body, creating a tornado of sensation that only fed the need burning in your core. “Wan’ you to knock me up, alpha, wanna give you pups, wan’ you to suck on my milky tits while you fuck me, daddy.” You groped your breasts, pinching your nipples like you were milking yourself, the sensations making your cunt gush slick all over the toy inside you. 

The pleasure was gathering in your core, making you more desperate to reach the pinnacle of your climax. Your hips worked, humping the pillow and cock between your thighs, shoving yourself down against the knot at the base of the toy, knowing it was what you needed to come, but your pussy was still too tight to take it. 

“Oh god, I need it, alpha, I need it, I need it,” you babbled mindlessly, fucking yourself furiously on the toy and still wishing it was Steve’s cock. 

You pictured him beneath you, his cheeks tinged pink, not with a blush, but with the flush of his desire for you, his blue eyes nearly black from his pupils blowing wide as he stared up at you. His soft mouth parted as he groaned, his thick cock buried in your tight cunt, twitching as you squeezed him.

It was with that image in your mind that the fateful words spilled from your lips. You cried out desperately, “Knock me up, daddy, gimme your pup, please—please, breed me, Steve!” 

So close to the edge of your release, you barely heard the distant crashing sound that echoed between your little cottage and the house that belonged to the alpha next door. All you heard were your gasping breaths and mindless moans, the toy shoving into your cunt making low squelching noises that only managed to turn you on more. 

It was only when a much closer smashing sound preceded the swirl of cool morning air infiltrating your home, and flooding into your nest, that you were able to drag your attention away from your own desperate frustration. Your omega instincts were going haywire, part of you telling you something was wrong, while another part unfurled and shifted, like a flower blooming toward the sun. 

Blinking your eyes to clear away the haze of your heat, your mouth fell open in an ‘o’ of surprise at the sight of the alpha in your bedroom doorway. 

Steve’s big body filled the doorway, his hands clutching the wooden frame while his chest heaved with heavy breaths. It looked like he was trying to hold himself back, his grip so tight on your doorframe that a distant part of your mind worried it might splinter beneath his palms. But you couldn’t think too closely about that, not when your neighbor was staring at you with a crazed look in his eyes, like he wanted to fill you with his knot as badly as you wanted to be filled.

Your too sweet alpha neighbor’s mouth—which was normally curved in a soft, friendly smile—was twisted with ferocious lust, and when he spoke, his voice was a rough growl like nothing you’d ever heard from Steve. 

“Invite me into your bed,” he rumbled, the order clear in his voice even if he didn’t use his alpha command. “Ask me to help you through your heat, tell me you want me here,” he went on through clenched teeth, an edge of desperation in his tone that called your heart—and your cunt. “Tell me you want me, omega.” His fingers gripped the doorframe tighter, and you heard the wood creak beneath his strength. 

Your pussy spasmed and your heart lurched when Steve called you by your designation, but it was when his scent hit you that you felt something inside your being shift and lock into place. Steve smelled like home—like safety and security and love. He smelled like a future of wrangling children together and making love together and sitting on a porch swing together and growing old together. 

In that moment, you knew what your instincts had known from the moment you met Steve—he was your mate. He was the one alpha in all the world who was meant for you, just as you were the omega meant for him. And once you knew that, it was the easiest thing in the world to part your lips and beg him to join you in your nest, in your bed, and help you through your heat.

“Please, Steve—please, mate, please help me,” you begged, your voice breathy with need and excitement, tears of joy shining in your eyes. 

Something shifted in Steve’s expression when you called him your mate. You watched as he took a deep breath, scenting you the way you had him. A riot of emotions swirled in those beautiful blue eyes of his—disbelief, acknowledgement, acceptance, satisfaction, pride. You saw the moment he realized what you’d only just discovered, a smile flickering at the corner of his mouth.

“My omega, my mate,” Steve growled, finally letting go of the doorframe and launching himself at you.

Finally—finally—Steve was coming to you, closing the distance between you, and you’d never been happier in all your life. The alpha next door was your mate, and you hoped that meant he would be more than willing to knock you up and breed you like you needed.

Steve had woken from his fitful sleep to the sound of your sweet cries that morning, though they sounded much more desperate to his ears. He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or not, but you sounded less than satisfied with whatever toy you were using and Steve slid a hand down to his already hard cock, thinking you should’ve been riding him instead of some silicone dick.

He’d lazily stroked his cock, trying to restrain himself from coming all over his stomach, while listening to your increasingly desperate cries. Steve had fisted a hand in the sheets of his bed, hoping it would be enough to hold himself back from storming over to your cottage and taking your heat into his own hands. 

Then, Steve heard you cry out his name and something in him snapped. Before he even knew what he was doing, he’d thrown on some boxer briefs and stormed out of his bedroom, leaping down the stairs and throwing open the front door of his house so ferociously, he’d ripped it off some of the hinges. 

Not even caring that he was leaving his door open, Steve charged over to your cottage, taking a little bit more care with your front door when he broke the lock and pushed it open, flinging it closed behind him. He knew it was likely stuck closed thanks to the broken lock, but Steve only cared that it would prevent anyone else from getting into your home. He’d deal with getting out later. Much later.

Finally, Steve got to the doorway of your bedroom, your nest, and he’d stumbled to a stop at the sight that lay before him.

You were perched in the center of your big bed, a pillow wedged between your thighs, the knot of a toy barely visible while you humped futilely on the fake cock. Your delicate fingers groped your tits, squeezing your soft flesh and pinching your nipples like you were milking yourself—that thought making even more blood rush to Steve’s cock. Desperate whimpers and whines fell from your lips, more pleas to be knocked up and filled with pups, and they were nearly his undoing.

At the last second, Steve gripped the doorframe, holding himself back from pouncing on you, as he tried to remember why he shouldn’t be there. You were an unmated omega, in heat, and he hadn’t gotten permission to be in your nest, let alone help you through your heat. And you were too sweet for him…

God, you looked sweet, though. Sweet enough that Steve’s mouth watered with the thought of how slick you were, how good you would taste on his tongue. Even from the doorway, he could see the way your wetness had soaked the pillow between your thighs. He wanted to taste you, to scent you, he wanted you. 

Steve was seconds away from launching himself at you when your gaze finally landed on him. It was the delighted surprise in your eyes that urged him to ground out a desperate plea for consent to enter your room and help you through your heat. Blessedly, you seemed coherent enough to answer—but you didn’t only answer and beg for his help, you called him your mate.

That word struck a chord in Steve’s chest, his heart pounding even harder at the impossible prospect that you were his mate—that you were meant to be his. But he took a deep breath, taking in the scent of you and opening himself up to the possibility that you were his. 

You even smelled sweet, like the pink roses in your front garden—or, rather, the peace Steve felt when he came home to find you tending to your flowers. You smelled like the warmth of a gentle fire and the giddiness of butterfly kisses. You smelled like life, like the time unfurling before the two of you, years and decades spent with each other, making each other happy. 

It was as if Steve truly came alive for the first time when he scented you, and the last tether of the self-restraint holding him back from you snapped. 

“My omega, my mate,” he rumbled in a low purr, a voice he’d never even heard himself use before. But he didn’t have time to think about that too closely—he only knew he needed to get to you. 

As quickly as he could, Steve surged into your room, tearing off his boxer briefs—the only clothing he’d had the presence of mind to put on, and he was thankful for it, since it saved him the grief of a public indecency charge—in the few steps it took to get to your bed.

By the time Steve tackled you into the tangle of blankets and pillows, he was naked as the day he was born, his cock throbbing with need and brushing against swaths of your soft, bare skin, leaving his precum behind. The alpha cradled your body in his strong arms as he rolled you beneath him, his narrow hips slotting perfectly between your plush thighs, his hard length resting against your mound. 

But there was something in his way, something that shouldn’t be inside you and Steve couldn’t help but growl, “Get that fucking toy out of my cunt, ‘mega.” He softened the fury in his voice with light, fleeting kisses to your cheeks and temple and forehead, greedy to taste the sweetness of your skin.

“Yes, alpha,” you gasped, fumbling between your bodies to wrench the silicone dick from your tight hole. 

The sweet submission in your voice was too much for Steve—he had to taste it. Slanting his lips to yours, Steve kissed you for the first time, groaning into your mouth at the wondrous feeling of your mouth beneath his. You tasted better than you smelled, like radiant sunshine bursting on his tongue and casting a golden glow over his entire body. 

Deepening the kiss, Steve plundered your mouth, stroking his tongue against yours and nipping at your lips until you were gasping and panting beneath him. Your entire body trembled with unslaked need, your fingers clinging to his bulging biceps as you cried out for him, all of which stroked Steve’s alpha ego so much, his cock twitched and leaked against your belly.

“Please, Steve—daddy—alpha—I need you inside me,” you wailed in a broken voice and Steve’s instincts took over.

He shifted his hips back, the tip of his cock finding your slick hole and he pushed forward, sinking his hard length into your cunt with one thrust. Steve’s entire world realigned, his heart stuttering in his chest at the feeling of your tight heat consuming him, overwhelming him. An animalistic groan left his lips, and he buried the sound in your neck, breathing in your scent as he tried not to come immediately.

With Steve’s cock finally buried inside you, he felt your body relax beneath him, your moan of pleasure dissolving into a sigh of relief. Steve’s hindbrain felt a deep satisfaction at the way you melted in his arms, your submission to him apparent in the loosening of your muscles. Finding your lips again, Steve kissed you sweetly, cherishing the moment of calm before your heat urged the two of you to move.

“Thank you, alpha,” you whispered, your voice soft and blissful and the most content Steve had heard it since your heat began in earnest the day before. “The toys weren’t working.” You pressed a kiss to Steve’s cheek on your way to burying your face in the crook of his neck, breathing so deeply he could hear your inhale, making his cock twitch in the depths of your pussy. 

Then, your words pierced through the haze of pleasure in Steve’s mind and he purred, smiling into your neck when you relaxed further beneath him, responding to him.

“You needed your mate, didn’t you, baby?” Steve cooed, lavishing your neck with kisses until you were whining and squirming beneath him. “Needed your daddy to pound your needy little cunt like only your alpha could, huh?” He started rolling his hips in tight circles, grinding into your cunt, his knot rubbing your clit in a way that had you clenching deliciously around him. “Needed me to pump your sweet little womb full of come, huh, needed me to give you a pup?” 

As soon as the heated words fell from Steve’s lips, he wished he could take them back. He’d heard you beg him to breed you, but that was when you were riding a silicone alpha dick, not when you were seconds away from taking Steve’s knot. 

Mentally, Steve chastised himself for letting his mouth run away from him so soon. He’d barely gotten his cock in you and he was already talking about knocking you up. He didn’t want you to think he was that kind of alpha, one that only wanted an omega to pump out babies for him—even though the thought did make Steve rock hard.

“Sorry, ‘mega,” Steve mumbled, shifting his arms beneath your body so he could cradle your head in one hand, holding you still while he rocked his hips into yours, kissing your cheek and jaw and neck and anywhere he could reach. 

“Sorry for what?” you asked on a gasp, hooking your legs around Steve’s sides and clinging to him so you could grind on his thick cock. 

Thankfully, you didn’t seem turned off or scared by Steve’s breeding talk. If anything, the way you arched your spine and shoved your cunt down on his dick made him think you liked it. But surely that couldn’t be true.

“Didn’t mean to mention pups so soon,” Steve said gruffly, hiding his face in your neck so you wouldn’t see the blush that he knew was turning his cheeks pink. 

“Oh god,” you moaned, your cunt squeezing Steve’s cock as your body writhed beneath his. “Wanna give you so many pups, alpha,” you cried, humping up from beneath Steve’s big body, riding his cock harder than you’d been riding your toy when he’d walked in. 

Steve went cross-eyed at the assault on his senses. Between the perfect heat of your slick pussy gripping his cock, teasing his knot every time you rocked against him, and the sound of your sweet voice confessing you wanted him to knock you up, Steve’s body shuddered with the effort it took not slam his knot home and flood your womb with his seed to give you exactly what you wanted.

“You like that idea, huh?” Steve rumbled, hungry passion and desire coursing through his body and urging him to move faster, to fuck you harder. He pulled out of your fluttering pussy and slammed back inside, relishing the desperate cry that left your lips and the way your fingers dug into the muscles of his arms. “You like it when your alpha tells you how much he wants to breed you?” 

Despite his best efforts, Steve could hear the thread of insecurity in his question, and he wasn’t surprised when you cupped his face and moved his head up so you could look into his eyes. What he didn’t expect was the sheer amount of pleasure and desire in your hazy gaze, or the mixture of sweetness and depravity in the little smirk you gave him.

“I do, daddy,” you said, your voice breathy but no less firm in your resolve. “I want to hear everything you’ve thought about doing to your little omega—want you to breed me, alpha.” 

Everything else in the world melted away as Steve focused on you—his omega, his mate—and the fact that he was going to try his damndest to give you what you wanted. After all, that was his duty as your alpha. You were his to take care of, to provide for, to protect, to cherish—to fuck and to knot. 

You were his to love—you were his to breed. And Steve planned on loving you and breeding you plenty.

You’d never felt anything so good as Steve sinking his thick alpha cock into your weeping cunt, and you nearly sobbed in relief as the edge of aching, burning need finally abated. This was what you needed—not a toy or any alpha’s cock, but your mate’s. Your body and omega instincts had known something was wrong, and it had taken a slip of your tongue to fix it. 

Even if it had been an accident to cry out Steve’s name, you couldn’t feel embarrassed about it, not when you finally felt something like satisfaction. The need of your heat still burned bright beneath your skin, but for a moment, you could revel in the feeling of being so intimately connected to your mate, your Steve—the alpha next door. 

The words of thanks had slipped past your lips before you could stop them, and you loved the teasing way he responded. But then you felt a shift in Steve. He’d seemed to feel guilty for mentioning pups, but even his apology turned you on, making your arousal burn hotter. Your body had been unable to still when you needed him so badly—needed to give him pups, needed to grow round with his child and know that he had claimed you in the most primal way possible. 

Your brain had short-circuited when Steve had said he wanted to breed you, but you’d still heard the anxiousness in his tone and you’d guided his head up so you could look at him. The uncertainty and guilt in Steve’s beautiful blue eyes nearly broke your heart. He was too sweet for words, wanting to make sure you were comfortable with even the words he said in the heat of the moment. 

Between one breath and the next, you fell in love with Steve Rogers. He wasn’t simply the alpha next door, he was your mate, and he was yours. A fierce possessiveness filled your chest as you smirked up at your alpha, determining to show him exactly how much you wanted everything he’d said.

“Want you to breed me, alpha,” you begged on a moan, your hips rising up off the bed to meet the brutal thrusts of your mate. “Fill me up with your pups, daddy, please, I need it!” You held Steve’s gaze, letting him see the pleasure on your face, hear the genuineness of your words. 

You saw the moment Steve’s insecurity and guilt melted into desire and determination. His blue eyes darkened and his face twisted into a mask of sinful resolve. He looked like a fallen god, with his golden hair and tanned skin, framed perfectly in the little bit of morning light filtering in through the skylight above your bed. Your pussy clenched around his cock, fluttering as he thrust inside you, teasing your hole with his knot.

“Don’t worry, ‘mega,” Steve rumbled, ducking down and capturing your lips in a sweet kiss that left you gasping for breath. He pressed his forehead to yours, staring deep into your eyes. “We’re making a baby today.”

“Yes, alpha,” you cried, spreading your legs wider in an effort to let Steve fuck you deeper. He grinned, shifting his hands to your thighs and pushing them up against your chest, folding you in half and pounding you into the bed. 

“Gonna fill up your perfect cunt with all the seed in my balls, and if it doesn’t take today, ‘m gonna fill you up until you’re overflowing with my come—until your belly’s bulging with it,” Steve growled, rutting into you with a ferociousness you never would’ve expected from your sweet alpha neighbor. But Steve’s sweetness was never far from the surface, and he proved it by lowering his voice to a deep rumble that you felt in your belly, asking, “Mm, ’s that what you want, baby, want daddy to give you a pup?”

You were pinned beneath Steve, his cock fucking you so hard, your room was filing with the wet squelching sounds of your soaking cunt and the sharp rhythm of your alpha’s thighs slapping against your own. But still, it was his words that seemed to have the most effect on you, turning you into a writhing, needy creature who’d only be satisfied when Steve emptied his balls deep in your cunt. 

“Yes, alpha,” you cried, your fingers clinging to Steve’s shoulders, digging into his warm, golden skin while he fucked you into oblivion. “Want you to knock me up, wanna give you a pup, wanna grow big and round with your child and feed you both from my milky tits,” you babbled, throwing your head back and screaming when Steve’s cock hit against your cervix, pleasure and pain swirling like an inferno in your body. “Please, daddy, god, I need it, I need it—knot me, breed, me, Steve, please!” 

“Baby,” Steve groaned, capturing your lips in another kiss while he rutted into you faster and harder, his knot pressing against your tight hole with every thrust and teasing you with the stretch of it. “You’re gonna get a pup, alright,” he growled when he pulled away, pressing his forehead to yours. “You’re gonna pop out a kid for me and then I’m gonna fill you right back up.” Steve moaned, his body shuddering and you knew he was close. “Wanna watch you bounce on my cock with your belly ripe and swollen with my pups, your tits heavy with milk—the prettiest mommy and mate an alpha could ask for.” 

“Steve,” you sobbed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to hold him close, kissing him and thrusting your hips up to meet his. “Please, make me a mommy, alpha—wanna be a mommy, please, daddy, daddy, please!” Then your lips were too preoccupied with Steve’s, kissing him messily in between desperate moans while he fucked you hard and fast. 

Finally, Steve pulled back and thrust forward with so much power, his knot pushed inside your tight cunt and you screamed in pleasure, the feeling of his thick bulge stretching your tight hole sending you over the edge into the most earth-shattering release you’d felt in your life. It was a transcendental experience, coming on your mate’s cock, your alpha surrounding you and filling you up in every way possible.

As your body squeezed Steve’s cock, he groaned loudly in your ear, burying his face in your neck while his hips stuttered against yours, trying to fuck you with his knot but unable to move because your bodies were locked so tightly together. Then, with a moan of, “my mate,” you felt the moment Steve began to come. His cock twitched deep inside your cunt, a warmth filling you as he shot rope after rope of come against your cervix, filling your womb.

For a long time, the two of you stayed locked together, riding out your releases in each other’s embrace. Giggles and moans filled the room, each of you kissing the other wherever you could reach while you basked in your pleasure together. You breathed in the scent of Steve, your lips dragging up and down the column of his throat while he kissed your neck and shoulder and just beneath your ear, making you shiver. 

Eventually, when the squeezing of your cunt was reduced to a flutter and your body had milked every last drop of seed from Steve’s cock, the two of you settled. Your heat had abated for the moment. Though need still burned low in the core of your body, reminding you it wasn’t over just yet. 

But you had a bit of a respite, and you took the time to revel in you newfound mate. Turning your head, you pressed a kiss to Steve’s cheek, which was flushed pink with pleasure.

You felt Steve’s smile against your skin and then he was rising up so you could see the full blush that tinged your alpha’s cheeks. He looked so sweet and ruined, his blond hair a mess, his blue eyes bright with satisfaction, a deeply smug smile on his plump lips. 

“Feeling better, ‘mega?” he asked, though there was so much male satisfaction in his tone, you were certain he already knew the answer. 

Still, you liked seeing this side of Steve. Typically you didn’t like cocky alphas, but Steve looked so hot when he was confident, your pussy fluttered around his knot at the sight of his smirk.

“I am, daddy,” you said softly, smiling up at your alpha, enjoying the way his smirk deepened as you confirmed what he knew. You couldn’t help but stroke his ego a little more. “Now that you’re here to take care of me.”

Steve’s eyes softened and he pressed a heated kiss to your lips. “Good,” he said when he pulled away. Then his arms were wrapping around you and he rolled onto his back, dragging you with him until you were splayed across his broad chest, your bodies still locked together by his knot. 

It would deflate soon enough, but you reveled in the feeling while it lasted, snuggling into Steve’s arms. Sleep called to you, but Steve was still moving and you when you opened your eyes, you found him reaching for your stash of provisions on your bedside table.

“Gotta eat and hydrate, baby,” Steve murmured as he unwrapped a protein bar and began feeding it to you. Even though you were exhausted, you knew he was right and you let him feed you, only sitting up when it was time to gulp down some of the sports drink he offered you. “Good girl, ‘mega, doing so well for your alpha,” Steve said, praising you while you ate and drank.

When you were done, Steve tossed the empty wrappers and bottles back onto your bedside table and relaxed into the many pillows on your bed. You settled down on his chest, your body sated in every way possible, muscles going loose when your alpha began to purr. 

“Thank you, alpha,” you mumbled, the urge to sleep more insistent since you were fed. Steve’s hands smoothed down your back, tracing your spine lightly with his fingertips in a way that made you melt even further into him. 

“Don’t need to thank me,” he grumbled, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple. “You’re my mate, ‘m gonna do everything I can to take care of you—and our kids.” He added the last bit like it was an afterthought, but you knew Steve meant it, and your heart warmed at his protectiveness. 

You smiled into Steve’s warm skin, nuzzling into his neck beneath his jaw, breathing in the scent of him—the scent of home—but his words made you remember something you should tell him. 

“Steve, ‘m on birth control,” you murmured sleepily, pressing a lazy kiss to the thick column of his neck. “Thought you should know.” You snorted a little, laughing at yourself for the silliness of your last statement, even though it was true.

The rumble of Steve’s purr changed as he chuckled, his strong arms tightening around your waist for a moment before he grabbed a blanket and pulled it up over your cooling bodies. “Figured, ‘mega,” he rumbled, his voice so warm, you could hear his smile. “Doesn’t mean ‘m gonna stop picturing you round with my pup, even if it’s a while before that happens.”

“Mm,” you hummed in acknowledgment, then pouted as you processed his words. “As long as it’s not a long while,” you muttered, hardly listening to what you were saying because you were so close to sleep.

Steve chuckled again, his hands squeezing you lightly. “It’ll be as long or as short as you want, baby,” he assured you in a gruff voice that was thick with just as much tiredness as yours. “I’d give you a pup today if I could.” 

You smiled, your heart filling with emotion, and pressed your lips to your alpha’s neck. You might’ve been exhausted, but it didn’t stop you from murmuring the words your heart urged you to say, “I love you, Steve.” 

Steve’s purr deepened, and he held you close, no hesitation in his voice when he said, “I love you, too.” Your alpha brushed a kiss to your cheek and smacked your ass very lightly. “Now rest, omega, we still have to get through the rest of your heat.”

You fell asleep with a smile on your face, feeling safe and protected and satisfied in the arms of your mate, your bodies still locked together by Steve’s knot. You never would’ve expected anything to come of your crush on your neighbor—and you never would’ve expected he’d be a perfect fit for your desires, let alone your mate. 

But, you knew the two of you were going to live a happy life together—and you couldn’t wait to spend every moment of it with the alpha next door.

[espinosaurusrexex]

Bad Boys Don't Buy Flowers

CEO!BuckyBarnes x Female!Florist!Reader AU

read Steve's story here

summary: Bucky would have never thought, he’d be chasing after a girl. Not when all of them usually fell at his feet. But when he finds himself entangled in a deal born out of a desperate argument with his assistant, he realizes there is nothing he wouldn't do for you: The independent florist who is adamantly dragging him to the homeless shelter every chance she gets. There is just one problem: Bucky doesn't know how to tell you. And the teasing from his friends is certainly not making things easier for him...

a/n: I should be working instead of writing long ass billionaire love stores, but here we are: you and me both... happy it happened and already regretting the tasks we neglected because of it (please enjoy this wholesome piece of imagination - I know it's long, but I hope you’ll give it a try nonetheless)

word count: 16.4k 😬

warnings: play boy behavior/talk, a reader that knows what she wants, Bucky falls first (and hard 🤭), mentions of war, injuries, and death (all not applying to Bucky for once), just so much fluff, questioning life choices (angst with happy ending!), smut (this is freaking love making okay?!?!? praise and confessions, dry humping, fingering, multiple orgasms, squirting, touch starved Bucky - in a way…, sensual and beautiful, protected p in v, cock warming, and aftercare) !MINORS DNI!

ﾟ✫ 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ✶ 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒐𝒏 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*･ﾟ𝒄.𝒂𝒊 ｡✭･ﾟ

"Did you place the order?" Bucky leaned back in Steve's office chair and watched as his friend paced the space with a hand in his pocket. 

Steve was grinning like an idiot when the answer on the other side satisfied him and Bucky felt a tiny little spark in his chest at the sight. He'd watched his best friend go through life with a default tension in his shoulders for what seemed like forever. All until he found Bambi - a sweet and incredibly clumsy woman who was formerly his maid. But they found each other and Steve had been a happier man ever since.

Bucky was happy for him, too. He was a lot more fun to be around ever since, but it did remind him that Bucky himself had yet to find the one that would make his heart beat faster. 

It was a ridiculous idea, of course. Bucky was never the one for relationships or long-term commitment in the romantic department. To be honest, he wasn't even sure he was capable of love - not that he needed it, anyway. He had no problem with having a new plaything every other night. It was fun and kept him on his toes. 

"Perfect. Okay. Thanks, Sharon." Bucky sat up straighter in the chair. "Yeah, next Friday. See you later."

Steve sighed as he slumped on the sofa across the room. He watched the ceiling, looking like a love-drunk schoolboy, even though he tried so hard to conceal it. Bucky knew him too well.

"Dinner is booked.”

“You’re really doing it huh?"

“Yup." There was no doubt in Steve’s answer, but rather a special kind of excitement Bucky rarely felt.

The brunette just nodded as he looked to the ground, the chair swaying as he pushed his knees from one side to the other. 

Steve just grinned in response. "So when are you gonna let me help you find the one?"

Bucky perked up, amusement seeping through his gaze when he answered his best friend. ”Me? No no. I’m fine."

Steve shrugged. ”You know, that’s exactly what I said about a year ago."

"No offense, Stevie, but you and I were in vastly different sex universes back then. I’m getting laid - I’m aaaaall good." He leaned back with a smug grin and Steve just frowned in response. "You can be as happy as you want but don’t start trying to get everyone on the girlfriend train. That’s a Rogers and Wilson thing. I don’t need that type of commitment."

Steve remained silent as he watched Bucky stand up and head for the door, a thoughtful look on his face when his friend passed him. 

“Look, I’m happy for you, truly. I just don’t see myself in that type of life.” Bucky’s hand squeezed Steve’s shoulder just as the blonde cocked his head to the side. 

“Never?”

Bucky winked at him. “You know I like to live in the present. But speaking of the future... You’re still up for tomorrow night, right?”

“Tomorrow night?"

"Ironbar."

Steve’s eyes widened. ”Shit. No, I promised Bambi we'd-" Steve stopped when he saw Bucky's eyebrows raise in amusement. “...next time."

Bucky sighed in defeat. "Tell her to leave some Steve time for the rest of us, will ya?" And with a laugh of Steve’s, he shut the office door, walked past Sharon’s desk, then Natasha’s, and then into his own office.

❁ ❁ ❁

The clock hand barely struck 8am when another set of files hit Bucky’s desk. 

Bucky huffed as he watched Natasha stand before him with an amused smile, her hands on her hips that were hugged by a tight pencil skirt. “Looking for something, Boss?”

“No...”

“Something like... the invitation to that business dinner on Thursday?” She mused and carefully pulled a piece of paper from the stack between them. 

Bucky snatched it with a glare. “It would be much more helpful if you sorted this chaos rather than stand here and be a smartass.” He looked at the invite, the familiar company logo printed in the top right corner. “And why are people even sending paper invites anymore? We’re a security firm,” he sat the paper down and tapped on it with his index finger, “just shows how desperately they need consulting.” 

“Don’t blame me for it.” Nat threw her hands in the air. “And stop complaining. I know you’re the cyber guy but a couple papers shouldn’t faze you. I’ve got more important things to do that don’t particularly fall in your area of expertise.” She turned to leave but Bucky stopped her before her heels could reach the threshold. 

“Are you saying your job is harder than mine?” Bucky watched the mess on his desk, then the computer screen with his calendar and the impending meeting with those jackasses from Hydra Enterprises. There was no way sorting a couple of papers could be worse than Alexander Pierce and his nephew Brock Rumlow. One of them barely knew how to send an E-mail and the other kept subtly asking if it was legal to install cameras in the lady’s room. 

“If you’re referring to your inability to sort a couple files, then yes, I assume you wouldn’t last a day with my tasks.” 

“Now that’s bullshit.”

“Is it now?” She raised her left eyebrow with a half-smirk. “I want to see you deal with idiots when scheduling appointments and keeping everyone’s day structured while also organizing the annual fundraiser.”

Bucky huffed, leaning back and crossing his arms before his chest. He averted his eyes from his assistant and the stupid pile of paperwork in front of him. He really did not want to sort through all of that. 

“Call me old fashioned but I believe assistants should sort files.” He shrugged, knowing Natasha wouldn’t let him off that easily. They had been working together for years, he respected her as much as his other friends. And presenting the fierce redhead with a challenge to get out of some annoying tasks was something he would gladly do. 

“I’ll tell you what. I will sort your papers in my assistant duties.” She made a mockery curtsy - as much as her skirt allowed - and then lifted her finger before the smile could spread on Bucky’s face. “If... you plan the charity event.”

Bucky was shocked. He didn’t expect her to play dirty - well to be fair, it wouldn’t be Nat if she weren’t teasing a little bit - but still. “You think you can handle that, boss?” 

Bucky closed his mouth and eyed her suspiciously. It couldn’t be that hard to do. And certainly would be a nice distraction from the impending meeting of doom as well as the following consulting sessions. He let his head fall back and stared at the ceiling. 

Was he really going to trade some papers for a whole Gala? That paperwork really sucked. He loved how easily he could wash through files on his computer. Sadly, his programs didn’t help much in the analog part of the job. 

“Are you backing down, Barnes?” Nat’s teasing voice rang through to him and he snapped back into his attitude. 

“Never.” He stood up, fixed his suit, and then reached his hand toward her. Natasha shook it with an evil smirk. “Always a pleasure doing business with you, Ms. Romanoff.”

And with that, she took the papers from Bucky’s desk and carried them out of his office with a triumphant smile. 

❁ ❁ ❁

It wasn’t long before Bucky regretted his decision. 

What had he been thinking? A Fundraiser... a fucking fundraiser. Bucky couldn’t care less about them. 

Okay, that wasn’t true. He deemed charity to be a very important part of society... and economy. There were times in his life when he was close to needing their help as well. And Bucky swore he’d never let that aspect of his story slip from his mind ever. Still, it didn’t prevent him from living lavishly and making use of the things he had access to now. 

Usually, the organization of the charity gala was stuck on Nat and Sharon. Mainly because they had always done an amazing job. The tabloids had only positive things to write about it and always pushed the number before Christmas even higher. Which urged Bucky even more to do just as good of a job this year. 

There was just one problem. 

He had no idea how to organize events this size. Bucky could program a software from scratch, hack into classified state files on a bad day. Hell, he could track every person’s phone in New York in his sleep. But he never expected to be overwhelmed by a couple invites and color palettes. 

Though as little as he knew about his new task, he liked a challenge, and he would most certainly not give Natasha the satisfaction of asking her for a checklist. 

So, the internet had to do for now. He’d found a blog by a highly motivated suburban mom, that led with step-by-step instructions on how to plan the perfect event. It might not have been on the scale of what Bucky had to do, but considering his lack of knowledge on the topic, he figured this would do until Natasha snatched the task away from him again. 

The first thing on the list was to find a date and venue. But since the gala of Shield Protection Services was always held at the same venue, Bucky figured they had booked it indefinitely for the event. 

Next was to find the perfect florist that ‘is able to put your vision into extravagant floral arrangements’. Yeah... that was another problem. 

Bucky didn’t buy flowers. The only women he deemed important enough in his life to get them were his sister and his mother. And well, both of them had passed away. So, picking the right flowers hadn’t been a problem until now. His mother and sister were always enchanted by the bouquets they received when Bucky was younger. He’d steal them from their neighbor‘s garden. But since he could grow a beard, Bucky hadn’t even touched flowers anymore.

Well, that had to change now. 

Bucky stepped into the elevator just to be greeted by big round eyes and an even wider smile. “Paying Steve a visit?” Bucky teased with a half smile as he hugged Bambi and then faced the doors. 

“I’m actually meeting Natasha for lunch,” she shifted from one foot to the other, “I didn’t realize she was already at the restaurant... so that’s where I’m headed now.”

Bucky chuckled at her slight awkwardness. But it wouldn’t be Bambi if she wouldn’t miss such a detail. 

“Do you need a ride? My driver’s waiting for me anyway.”

“Tha- yes that would be nice, thank you.”

Bucky just nodded and gestured for her to lead the way when they reached the ground floor. 

“Where are you going?” Bambi asked as he stared out the window of the car. They had told the driver where they needed to go. And Since Bucky had no particular destination in mind, it worked out well. 

“I’m on the hunt for the perfect flower shop to cater to my vision of our charity event.” He chuckled and shook his head at his own words. He’s never thought he’d say this.  

Her eyes peered at him with intrigue, a glimmer washing over them when she asked: “Are you taking suggestions?”

Bucky sat up straighter now. “Uh, yes. Gladly.” This was easier than he thought. 

“There is this wonderful shop in Brooklyn. It’s called AsGarden on 18th Avenue. You can’t miss it, it’s like a breath of fresh air between all those ugly beige buildings. The woman owning it has great taste, she managed to make the perfect bouquet for me without ever seeing me.” She turned forward, a little flustered, “Steve gets me flowers from there sometimes, they’re my favorite.”

“Did you hear that, Stan?” A victorious smile spread on Bucky’s face as he squeezed Bambi’s shoulder. “Next stop is Brooklyn.”

“Alright, Sir.”

“You don’t know how much easier you just made my life.” Bucky leaned forward and kissed her cheek before the car came to a stop and he bid her goodbye. 

“I’m glad I could help.” She waved back and then headed into the restaurant. 

Maybe the event wasn’t so difficult after all, Bucky thought as he leaned back in his seat, his legs spreading in satisfaction.

❁ ❁ ❁

The cool air snook through your shop when the familiar bell of a customer chimed above the door. You’d seen many people frequent your shop daily. Women, men, teenagers, elderly. All came from different backgrounds and varying stories in their repertoire. Your store was in the heart of Brooklyn - a bunch of people mixed in this town. And you’d made it your mission to find the perfect flower arrangement for each and every one of them. 

The man who had set off your little bell this afternoon was different though. A perfectly tailored coat adorned his broad shoulders. The way his hands were tucked in his pockets revealed the expensive-looking suit beneath as well as the toned chest that hid beneath the button-up in vain. His presence oozed money as he sashayed through your shop, carefully grazing delicate pedals with the aura he brought in. 

He seemed to own the world, but something about him just didn’t fit between the colorful flowers surrounding him. If you didn’t know any better, he looked a little lost, eyes glassy as they swayed through the sea of colors and shapes soaking in fresh water. 

“Good afternoon, sir. Can I help you?”

He ripped around, fixed his posture, and approached the cash desk. When his eyes landed on you, he froze. Just for a second, however, and then his jaw snapped into a handsome smile as he leaned forward. 

“I sure hope so.” His white teeth flashed between his lips before his tongue stroked over them. It was capturing. “This flower shop has been recommended to me. You wouldn’t happen to be the owner?”

“Well actually, I am,” you smiled hiding the pride swelling in your chest from the comment.

“Great. What is your capacity when it comes to event arrangements?”

“That depends...” You smiled as the handsome stranger raised his eyebrows in intrigue. “I reckon we have vastly different understandings of what is small and... big.” Your eyes wandered over his expensive coat again. The innuendo was accidental, really, but he seemed to be amused nevertheless. 

“My company is hosting its annual charity event in November... at The Glasshouse.”

“So just as I suspected...” You nodded and strode past him towards the fall flowers.

“Pardon me?”

You turned your head towards him and winked. “Bigger than I thought.”

“So?” He approached you with his hands still in his coat pockets and peeked over your shoulder. “Can you do it?”

“Totally.” Then you gestured to the flowers. “Do you have any preferences? I don’t have all the flowers in yet, but I recommend going with some soft orange and sage tones... to cater to the season.”

“Forgive me, sweetheart, but I am useless when it comes to this kind of stuff. My qualities lie more in the technical aspect of things.” A hand ran through his thick dark hair and the gesture made him look boyish.

“Alright let me rephrase my question then: Do you trust me?” A sly smile sneaked on his face, matching yours. 

He tipped his head. “My life is in your hands.” 

“Good. Then please write down your details here.” You pushed a form over the counter once you reached it again, and the man just followed you around like a lost dog. You watched as his hand swiftly filled out the free spaces on the paper, curious which company he had been referring to. 

“Wait you’re working for SPS?” 

“I own it, sweetheart.” The man adjusted his coat as you tried to look unimpressed. “My name is James Barnes, but you can call me Bucky.” His hand extended over the shiny countertop until it encased your smaller fingers and his warmth seeped through your body. 

Bucky’s smile brightened when you revealed your name to him, telling you how beautiful it was, and you began to struggle not to show the effects it had on you. Then he resumed filling out the order and slid it over to you again. 

“What cause are you raising money for this year?” You asked as you sorted the paper into your books, only to be surprised when Bucky seemed a little nervous all of a sudden. 

You knew Shield Protection Services was a pristine company with reach to people whose powers you could barely comprehend. Whatever they were choosing, it would have a big impact on the change their chosen organization was advocating. 

“Well, to be honest... we haven’t decided yet.” A silly idea hushed through your head at that, but you dismissed it. A company such as Bucky’s would raise sums only big fish could handle. There wasn’t space for the things you had in mind. 

“I hope you’ll do so soon, then.” You nodded thoughtfully and ended with a tight-lipped smile. 

Bucky nodded and smiled, then turned around and headed for the door. But before he could open it, he came back again. You looked up to see a black card held before you. 

“I’d be happy for suggestions... if you have any in mind.” He shrugged with that cheeky look of his and then left. And you just stood there, dumbfounded, and toying with the ridiculous idea that Bucky Barnes might actually be able to read minds. 

❁ ❁ ❁

“Rogers really couldn’t make it?” Tony asked as he leaned back in the leather booth of his very own establishment. He tipped his emptied whiskey glass towards the slender redhead at the bar and smiled as she rushed to get his refill ready. 

“He promised Bambi to be home...” Bucky trailed off as he watched a customer hit on the waitress - Tiffany he remembered - A pretty thing, but unfortunately incredibly hollow when it came to conversation... not that Bucky looked for anything like it.  

Tony huffed. “That woman has him wrapped around her finger!” He liked Bambi, everyone did, he just missed hanging out with his guys. 

“Just wait until you find the one, Tony,” Sam chimed in with a sly smirk on his face - a hopeful, yet cautious hint as Sam secretly loved the idea of all his friends finally finding the one. He was a romantic, Bucky knew it, even if Sam never actually said it. 

“Me? I would never give up my glorious bachelor life for one woman. There are way too many things to explore...”

“Mark my words, Stark. We’ll look back to this day and laugh about this incredibly jackassy statement. You, too will be finding the one. I just know it.”

Bucky chuckled and tipped his glass on the Table as the bickering of his friends faded into background noise. For some reason, he didn’t feel like adding to the conversation. He blamed it on the banality of a conversation both he and Tony had long decided on, but perhaps, it was because for once in his life, he considered taking Sam’s side on the topic. 

It was ridiculous, really, how fast you’d occupied his mind when it came to Sam’s comment about finding ‘the one’. He didn’t even know you aside from the ‘background check’ he conducted after his visit to your shop. That might have covered your personal details, but he still didn’t know if you were a dog person or preferred cats, or if you were vegan or vegetarian, or if you considered kids in your future. 

Bucky cleared his throat and sat up straighter when he felt the fluster creep up his neck. What the hell was happening to him? He wasn’t like this at all. Women occupied his mind for about as long as it took for him to make them come undone in his hands. When he was with them, his full attention was on them - he loved them - but he’d never let them control his life. James “Bucky” Barnes never even considered seeing them twice, let alone thinking about a future with them. 

Though, to Bucky’s displeasure - or pleasure (he hadn’t decided yet) - the thought of seeing you again wasn’t uncomfortable to him. On the contrary, he got a weird tingly feeling in his stomach when he remembered the smell of the flowers in your shop and how your delicate fingers carefully picked out the prettiest ones. Bucky sat his drink down with a clink. Maybe he’d had enough alcohol for tonight.

“Barnes, how come you’re not defending me here? Have you grown soft or something? Do you have a girl we don’t know about?” Tony’s nagging broke through to Bucky and the whole bar reached back into his consciousness.

“Sorry, what?” He stuttered, shaking his thought and trying to find a good answer to his friend’s remark. “I was distracted by Betty.” Bucky smiled sheepishly as he received a clap on his shoulder. 

“That’s my man.” Tony grinned and Sam huffed into his whiskey. And Bucky? He just sunk into his seat, feeling somehow shameful for the white lie he had made up.

❁ ❁ ❁

The SPS office was impressive. Amongst the old New York brick building surrounding it, it reached up into the sky with its glass front everything. But you wouldn’t be fooled by its fragile looks. This was one of the most secure buildings in the city. You’d read about it in an article some time back - the whole hype about the company was their way of making fragile-looking things indestructible. You couldn’t see through the “windows” from the outside. And you wouldn’t be able to launch a rocket through it either. SPS had patented their stronger-than-steel-glass years ago, making them the leading security company in the world. 

To say you had been a little surprised to see the very owner of said company on your side of town would be an understatement. But besides his incredibly adamant way of flirting, he was quite normal to talk to. He’d even asked you for advice on the cause they should donate to this year. And after having thought about it for the better part of what should have been your sleep time, you had decided to just try and pitch your idea. 

“Do you have an appointment Ms.?” A stunning redhead peered up at you from her desk, her nails clicked on the keyboard of her computer as she waited for your answer. You didn’t really know why you thought getting to Bucky was going to be easy. The security guard had already eyed you suspiciously at the front desk in the lobby. After you’d smiled at him as charmingly as you could, he’d decided to let you be someone else’s problem today - or maybe he just didn’t see you as a threat - whatever it was, it had gotten you this far. But what were you gonna say now?

Actually, I don’t have an appointment, but Mr Barnes met me yesterday and after thinking about him all night, I decided to pay him a visit today.

Yeah, that wouldn’t cut it. Not in this office. The redhead - N. Romanoff - was what her sign said, made that fairly clear with the way her lips pursed at the opened calendar on the screen. 

“You don’t happen to have to discuss something not suited for work with Mr. Barnes, do you? I know he tends to leave some of his meetings... open-ended.” 

Your eyes got wide. “God, no. I’m not-“ Your hands made a swishing motion between you two and then you took a breath. “I’m here to discuss business. Purely business. Mr. Barnes has made an order at my shop for the company fundraiser and I just want to discuss some details.” 

Her eyes glimmered when her lips pulled into a smile. “Did he now?” She peered over to catch the look of the blonde assistant a few feet next to her and then back to you. “Well if that is the case, please have a seat, I’ll tell him you’re here.” And with that, she got up, winked, and wrapped at the large wooden door presumably leading to Bucky’s office. 

She came back a minute later and gestured for you to enter. “Lucky for you, his meeting just got canceled, so you should have enough time.”

“Thank you.” And then Ms. Romanoff went back to her desk and started whispering to the blonde assistant. 

Bucky sat behind his desk, a sleek glass surface lightly cluttered with papers. Other than that, the room felt cool, the large rug by the seating area did little to cover the marbled floors. You stepped inside just as Bucky called out your name. You almost didn't see the wide smile on his face as the rising sun hung low on the horizon behind him, casting a halo-like glow around his silhouette. What a freaking entrance. Though Bucky surely couldn’t control the sun, you thought with a small smile, you really had to stop imagining this man was extraordinary. 

“You’re here.” He got up and walked towards you, his sleek back shoes echoing on the ground. And then he was next to you, leading you to the seat in front of his desk with his hand on the small of your back. “What brings me the honor of your visit, darling.”

He leaned on his desk with his arms crossed, a pleasant smile on his lips. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice that you came by, but you do have my number, don’t you?”

“I do.” You cleared your throat, trying to sound as convincing as possible. “I was hoping you had some time to spare, actually. I find the phone to be a little... impersonal.”

Bucky’s eyes shined with intrigue as he leaned forward, pinning you to the chair with his gaze. He licked his lips. “Show me what exactly?”

“You’ll see.” You smirked. “I happen to know that your next meeting just got canceled.”

Bucky got even closer, his breath hitting your neck with every word he spoke. “And I’ll gladly cancel the rest, too.” A shiver shot over your arms, his cologne seemingly intoxicating you. But before you could respond, he backed up, grabbing his coat and gesturing towards the door. “Lead the way.” 

And so you did. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky was suspicious when you pulled him into the subway, but he decided against saying something. He had told you he trusted you after all, and though Bucky considered himself a lot of things, a flake was not one of them. So he let it happen. 

It wasn’t half bad, either. Somewhere between his office door and the train, you had taken his hand in yours to pull him along faster. Bucky had noticed his lips spreading into a smile. It didn't last long, unfortunately. Because as he had made eye contact with an elderly lady who had then proceeded to tell you what a beautiful couple you were, you had pulled your hand away with an awkward laugh. 

‘Oh, God, no, we’re not together, ma’am.’ 

Admittedly, Bucky felt a little sting in his chest ever since. In fact, he was rubbing his hand over his shirt at this very moment. You were walking along a street in Brooklyn, not too far from your shop. The neighborhood was a little more run-down than he was used to, certainly nothing like the part of town he lived in. But he kept quiet still. Maybe he was a little butthurt from your earlier aversion about the couple comment, but to be fair, Bucky wasn’t used to women denying him - except Nat. 

You suddenly stopped, making Bucky almost run into you and then stare at you in question. But when you gestured towards the sign above the two-story building, his gaze softened. 

There, above the blue-painted metal doors, hung a faded sign. Bucky could make out the orange and yellow stripes on the board, a big Sunflower painted in the middle of it all. ‘Sunflower -Shelter & Food’.

“Hey, are you coming or are you glued to the ground?” Your voice rang from the entrance, he hadn’t even noticed that you already moved inside. 

Bucky gulped when his eyes swayed back to you and then down his own body. If he was going to step in there in the outfit he was currently wearing, he would look like the biggest asshole on the planet. 

“I can’t go in there.”

“Why not?”

He just gestured towards his clothes, his Rolex glinting in the sunlight for good measure. But there was no reaction from you. You stood in the doorway, pursing your lips seemingly in thought, and then shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. “I guess you’ll just have to deal with it then.”

“What?” He called your name. But when he realized you weren’t joking, he caught up to you as fast as possible. Because the only thing worse than showing up there looking like he did was doing it alone, he decided swiftly. 

“‘Think now might be a good time to mention that this is not a very good place for a date,” Bucky mumbled next to you before closing his coat, trying to hide the even more expensive suit beneath. 

“How would you know?” You turned to him. “This isn’t a date, is it?”

Bucky just smirked and then he watched you greet a young boy with a warm hug, and man he imagined what it would be like to have you hug him like that. 

“Peter this is Bucky, Bucky, Peter.” You pulled him towards you by his hand again. “I brought him along to help today, thought we always need an extra pair of hands around here.”

“Pleasure to meet you, sir.” Peter reached his hand out, slightly frowning when he took in his appearance but did not say anything. “Any help is always welcome here. Come, I’ll show you what we’re doing today.” 

Within ten minutes, Bucky had an apron and gloves on and was ordered to cut the biggest stack of potatoes he’d ever seen. You were happily chatting away with the other helpers and Bucky, for the first time in a long time, felt ...normal. 

Nobody was recognizing him in the crowd, there was no talk about business and investments, and there were no fucking cameras. Here, people recognized him for what he came to do, help. And it felt weird. Bucky wasn’t quiet about his lavish lifestyle around his crowds. He knew the privilege he had, and he had worked for it enough to be proud of it. But it was like he had entered a different universe in this part of town. All the things he deemed normal, were things so far from imagination here, they were left out of conversations entirely. So, he tried to remember this whenever he was offered a conversation. 

“You do this every day?” He asked into the kitchen while struggling to peel his 5th potato. 

“Whenever we can.” An older woman answered with a smile. She was the one who had shown him how to use the peeler faster. “They are people just like you and me. They have to eat every day, too, Bucky.”

Bucky just nodded in silence at the humbling answer, his cheeks felt hot with embarrassment at how naive he had been. 

Two hours later, he was standing by your side at the serving station, plating mashed potatoes and the accommodating ‘you’re welcome’ every once in a while. He rarely was out of his comfort zone, like today. But he also knew that, whenever he felt unsure, he’d look at you and you’d gift him an encouraging gesture that kept him going a little while longer. 

After everyone had their food, you gave Bucky a tour of the premises. 

There was a small courtyard, a couple rooms with telephones and a computer, some sofas and pillows. Nothing fancy but functional nonetheless. You led him through every room, explaining curtly what it was for and then you led him up the stairs.

On your way up, you passed Peter, who was helping a child find its toy and Bucky felt a lump form in his throat at all the new impressions he was fed today.

He cleared his throat. “Peter... is he?”

You shook your head. “Not exactly. His parents died when he was quite young. Lucky for him, though, he has always been a bright kid. He got a scholarship for every school he ever went to. But he spends most of his free time here. He has this urge to help wherever he can. Took me a couple months to keep him from skipping his lectures.” You chuckled and led him through the next door. 

Bucky nodded with adoration. Not many people dedicated their time to something that would not benefit them directly. And while Bucky knew what a dedicated mind was capable of, he had to admit that his efforts were always motivated by personal gain. 

“He’s very admirable for that.” 

You just hummed in response. “I don’t think he chose it himself. Not that I think he wouldn’t. But this shelter belonged to his uncle and aunt. They died when he was in high school. He’s working hard to keep this place alive. As do we all.”

The next room you entered was resembling a classroom. “What happens here?”

“Most of the children are registered for the public school of this district. But they don’t always make it there. This room gives them the opportunity to catch up on missed work. We also have adult classes here, preparing for job interviews and such.”

The next hallway presented doors, all leading to bedrooms, as you explained to Bucky when you walked through the corridor. The last door was larger than the others - a double swing leading to a big sanitary area. Showers, toilets, and sinks lined the walls - all run down but functional. 

“This place could use some serious renovating,” Bucky mumbled, but he was sure you had heard him. Because you looked up at him now, a sad smile decorating your beautiful face. 

“We try to make it as clean and cozy as possible here, but we just don’t have the necessary financial means for it. It works for now. The people coming here need very little. But it’s only a matter of time until the roof needs redoing or the pipes or the windows, or the-“

“Yeah...” Bucky trailed off, making you stop and giving him a break to breathe. He usually wasn’t surrounded by people unable to get out of unfortunate situations. The clients he spent his time with ordered his services to protect the material things they’d bought for status and fun. It was something entirely different when you were robbed of your place to sleep. 

“Well, this completes my humble tour.” You clasped your hands together and proceeded to look at your watch. “I think it’s time to go home.”

You descended the stairs in silence, Peter hugged Bucky goodbye and when he stepped foot back on the sidewalk, Bucky turned around to the sign once more. You stood beneath it, leaning against the doorframe and smiling at him. It was dark out now. 

“Are you not coming?” He asked watching as you shook your head. 

“Peter has an exam tomorrow. I offered to stay the night.”

“Here? Alone?”

“Yes.” 

Bucky stepped towards you again. “Then I’m go-“

“Stop.” Your hand reached for his shoulder, the touch sending him straight back to a haze. “Don’t do this. I know how you feel. There’s this sadness inside you now. You saw this for the first time. It feels awful - I know.” You retracted your hand and pushed yourself off the doorframe. “But until you don’t see anything other than pity for these people, you can’t be here without breaking.”

“Doll...”

“Bucky, I'm serious. Go home. Sleep on it. Try to understand the situation.” 

Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this helpless. He just stared at you, unable to move or say anything. He didn’t like the idea of you staying here alone at night. And though the feeling of caring for someone he’d only known for two days so much scared him, he pushed it aside. 

You leaned forward and hugged him goodbye and then the cold night surrounded him again. “Thank you for trusting me today.” And then you turned around and left him standing outside alone. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Your purple-inked pen marked the date in your calendar. 

“That’s an unusually big order, Steve...” You looked up at the blonde frequenting your shop every so often. He’d always get the pink carnations for his girlfriend. Apparently, she loved them after you bound them in the first bouquet you ever sold to Steve. He was a simple man, you could tell, so his usual orders were just as such. But not today. “Are you planning anything special?”

The handsome customer blushed with an innocent smile. “Actually...” He scratched the back of his neck. “I’m planning to propose.” He looked so sheepish when you clasped your hands in excitement.

“Oh, that’s amazing. Congratulations!”

“Well not yet.” He cleared his throat, visibly trying to compose himself. But this giant pretty man in front of you was adorably nervous. 

“I just know she’ll say yes,” you mused and made a note to reserve some more carnations for his order - a couple simple arrangements that held so much meaning.

“How do you know?”

You watched Steve peer over to you with hopeful eyes. “It’s not every day a man puts so much effort and thought into what bouquet to get his girlfriend on a casual Monday evening each week.” You winked and Steve nodded lost in thought. 

“To be honest, I haven’t even thought about her saying no. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

“You shouldn’t worry too much. You are a good man, everyone can see that. And just to be sure, I’ll make the most perfect flowers ever. Paired with your charming ways, there will be no other option but to say yes.”

He relaxed a little. “Great. Thank you.” And then he turned to leave your shop. 

“I’ll have them ready by Friday.” You smiled. 

“Thank you... so much.” Steve smiled and you knew there was so much more hidden in his gesture.

❁ ❁ ❁

It had become a habit that Bucky visited the shelter with you once a week. Admittedly, you were surprised he even cared enough to free his schedule so religiously. But as of the past four weeks, he had shown up at your shop, walked with you to Sunflower shelters, mingled with the people, and then even walked you home. 

It was actually kind of refreshing, seeing him so invested and kind of protective. There weren’t many guys in the city that cared enough to get you home safely. Peter offered more times than often, but you rather knew him safe at the shelter than try to fight a gangster double his size out of the kindness of his heart and the deep wish to somehow become a superhero one day.

So Bucky had to do it for now. Not that you were complaining. He was handsome and charming and interesting to converse with given the vastly different lives you lived. But he tried to adapt. Ever since the incident on the first day, he had even tried to wear less wealth-telling clothing, though he seemed to not always hit the mark just right. 

In a way, bucky was a little fashion icon. You’d noticed it in his colorful waistcoats, the intricate details on his shoes, or the fancy cufflinks adorning his oxford-cotton shirts. He tried to dress down. But to your surprise, the color remained. Instead of waistcoats and dress shirts, he wore regular t-shirts. His confidence never wavered.  

A little smile hushed across your face every time you looked at him. The pink shirt he wore combined with the green apron he had been given, made him look like a lollipop. A Beautiful one, that was. With a dashing smile and an adorable frown as he tried to separate the peas from the pod. 

“So... how is the gala coming along?” You teased him a little having noticed how unusual this task was for him. Throughout your few meetings, you had gotten to know Bucky quite well. And apart from his statement the very day he stepped foot into your shop, he revealed to you more and more how difficult the project was for him.

“Let’s just say I’m glad I can count on the flower arrangements,” he grumbles as a pea slipped from his fingers and across the table. 

“That bad, huh?”

His hands stopped working. “The Band canceled on me again and I seem to run after every other arrangement I have made so far. If I had known how much work-“ he huffed and then shook his head with an even deeper frown. 

“Hey, it’s okay to not be good at everything.” You encouraged him, your elbow nudging his side as you smiled lightly. “There has got to be something humbling you. Makes you seem more human.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I meant to ask you...” You picked up your task to avoid his eyes that were suddenly on you again. “How come you’re the one organizing the gala?”

Bucky chuckled, his head shaking for what seemed like the hundredth time today. “I made a deal with my assistant.” 

“What was in it for you?” You threw a couple peas in the strainer and Bucky did the same.

He shrugged. “I got to hand off some paperwork.”

Wow. “Seriously? A bit of paperwork seems like a poor trade for months of organizing something so important.”

Bucky laughed, the sound warming your stomach from the inside out and finally making you look at him again. It was little moments like this in which he felt so careless and relaxed. You liked to believe the shelter did it to him, or maybe even you. But primarily, you were glad he laid off his work self just then. “Yeah it might have not been my smartest move... but I don’t mind it really.”

“Why’s that?” Your eyes locked and you suddenly became very aware of how close the two of you were standing. 

“If it weren’t for the deal, I would have never met you.” There was something so honest and pure about the way he had stated this so plainly. And for a moment, you liked to forget that he might have just meant your suggestion to donate to Sunflower. That maybe, the funny fluttery feeling in your stomach wasn’t one-sided, and that you too meant something greater to him than the coincidences that led him into your shop that day. 

A wide smile spread on Bucky’s face and then he winked. He freaking winked at you. And while you turned back to your peas, desperate to hide the fluster on your face, you had to remind yourself that this was Bucky fucking Barnes and that he knew what he was doing.

About two hours later, you sat amongst the people currently living at the shelter, sharing the meal you had prepared for them with the hopes of getting them through another day. You and Bucky were sitting with Gabe Jones, a veteran whose post-traumatic stress disorder had cost him everything after the Vietnam War. He was always telling stories of his time on the front - a way to cope with his horrible past. By now, you and Peter had probably heard every single one of his stories twice. But Bucky was on the edge of his seat. Listening with intrigue as the food on his plate remained untouched. 

“It was ’68 when I was sent out. There were soldiers who done already survived a year or so at the front. And, son, I am sayin’ survived ‘cause you couldn’t call that livin’.” Gabe shook his head before pointing his fork to his shoulder. “Caught a grenade in ’69 and on our way to camp, they shot at the helicopter. Lost my right arm and comrade that day. The damn arm’s gone but I’m gon’ have the memory forever.”

The words didn’t seem to affect the veteran anymore, but they never failed to leave their recipients shocked and wondering. It was always the same question: How can someone fight for a country, leave their life for a country, and end up here?

And honestly? You didn’t know. 

“I’m so sorry, sir.” Bucky swallowed as his eyes fled over to yours. “Thank you for your service.”

“Notin’ to be sorry ‘bout.” Gabe waved his hand and then pointed at Bucky’s plate. “You eatin’ that?” 

Bucky just shook his head and pushed his plate towards Gabe, a somber state overtaking his body. You did feel a little bad. But you also knew that Gabe wasn’t affected by sympathies and that he was happy at Sunflower - though he preferred the street over the beds here. While he had spent just another day existing, he had simultaneously opened Bucky’s eyes to the severity of making stories like his more known. 

By now you were pretty confident, Bucky would choose the homeless as recipients for his company’s fundraiser sum. But he surprised you by getting involved with the people here over and over again, willing to learn and to understand. 

The walk to your apartment building that evening was awfully quiet. Bucky had insisted he walk on the street side of the sidewalk, buried his hands in his coat pockets, and shut up ever since.

You knew he was contemplating, letting the day play on repeat in his mind. He probably had a lot of questions, a lot of frustration, and worry. Nothing unfamiliar to you, but something you’d learned to deal with ever since helping out at Sunflower. 

“Don’t feel bad,” you said when you stopped in front of the familiar brick building you called home. 

“How?”

“Feeling bad isn’t helping them. You have the power to change things.” It was an awfully dry response, but the truth hurt sometimes. 

Bucky just looked at you through hooded eyes, a knowing nod shaking his features as he watched slowly take a step back toward your front door. 

“Thank you,” he suddenly released - steady and calm. “For taking me. For helping me see...” 

You couldn’t help yourself. The confession overwhelmed you. Knowing you had succeeded in showing him what was so important to you overwhelmed you. You leaped forward and slung your arms around him, pressing tightly into his chest. 

Bucky’s arms found their way around you in an instant, the hug conveying so much more than just a goodbye. It was a ‘thank you’ a ‘this means the world to me’.

After about a minute, you leaned up to him and placed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m also glad you took the deal, Bucky.” You whispered into his ear, feeling the smile on his face on your cheek. 

When he finally released you, it seemed like the spell was gone. Bucky was back to burying his hands in his pockets, only the faint remnants of a smile hinting towards your earlier interaction. You hadn’t realized how much this would affect him. You had forgotten how long you fought with yourself until you could act normal around the people at Sunflower yourself. 

“Do you want to come up?” You threw your thumb over your shoulder at the entrance of the building with a lopsided smile. “Don’t want that cheap bottle of merlot to go bad.”

Bucky’s eyes brightened underneath the street lights and the wide boyish grin returned to his face. “We can’t have that, can we?”

❁ ❁ ❁

To say Bucky’s heart had skipped a beat at your invitation would have been an understatement. It did somersaults and ended with an impressive backflip. He’d not expected a move from your side. Especially, since the last time he had picked you up, the universe had flipped him the bird by sending two of his former one-night-stands your way. He had been able to shake them off before they were able to yell at him or reveal more of what their connection to him was. But that marked the first time he was a little embarrassed by his late endeavors. You had acted like nothing happened, but since that night, Bucky hadn’t stopped wondering what you thought of him. 

You lead him up the narrow staircase to a red wooden door, the color chipping by the floor as an indicator of having to kick it to open sometimes. Beyond the door, it was cozy and warm. Every corner of your place had a memory placed in it - a self-made quilt or a photograph. When you walked through it, Bucky could feel the love and time this place had seen. 

It was nothing like his own apartment: a penthouse standing high above the city, with sleek black surfaces and cold marble wherever you reached. Here, he felt the need to take his shoes off, to feel the fuzzy carpets on the scratched-up wooden floors. Your place wasn’t sterile like his, it felt... like a good hug. 

Bucky snorted as the result of a breath he released. Never before had he cared about what his place lacked. It was expensive and pristine, clean and big. And even though your apartment was about the size of his living room, it had so much more to offer. 

“The living room is right through there, you can choose a movie if you like.” Your voice called out from somewhere Bucky assumed to be the kitchen as he kicked off his shoes and made himself comfortable on the rust-colored sofa that had more pillows than necessary. It was super comfortable, though. And the lack of space due to the pillows forced you to sit a little closer to him, so he wasn’t complaining.

“Your place is... cute.” He stated as you handed him a glass of wine and laughed. 

“It’s a shoebox but I do love it very much. Probably nothing compared to what you’re used to.”

Bucky shook his head and took a sip. The wine did taste cheap, but he did not care. “Bigger isn’t always better.” His arm was spread on the backrest but your whole body was turned to him. “It has a lot of character.”

“Oh god, please stop, you’re just making it sound worse.” Your hand came up to hide your face but your smile peeked through the gesture. 

Bucky laughed. “I didn’t mean it condescendingly. I really do like it. Reminds me of my childhood home.”

“Are you close with your family?” Bucky was surprised by the question. Maybe it was because his friends never talked about his family, or because the peers he hung out with tended to discuss business rather than sentimental. But he realized that nobody had asked him about it for a long time.

And so he began talking. Bucky talked about his parents and how both of them died early in his life. He told you how close he was with his sister until she got adopted into another family. He spoke about his childhood with Steve and how they’d met Sam and Tony in college, about the night they had the idea for Shield Protective Services, and finally the day he was told his sister had passed away. 

Throughout his story, you had leaned into him closer, hanging onto his every word until your hand had to support your body on his thigh and Bucky suddenly stopped talking. 

Your glasses were emptied, the bottle as well, and Bucky gulped when he felt the heat from your hand travel throughout his entire body. 

“So... that’s my story.” He had to clear his throat to gain his usual timber back, his hands becoming sweaty when you blinked next to him. “What about you, dove?”

“Dove?” You smiled, yet intrigued by the name that had slipped past his lips in the trance of the moment. He’d only ever called you that in his thoughts. Attributed the nickname to you the second he realized it was the most fitting one of them all. 

“You don’t like it?” He asked, his arm slipping towards your shoulder ever so slightly. 

“I like it.” You smiled. “I just want to know... why this one?”

A hush of giddiness crawled up his throat when he thought about his answer. It was the way you had welcomed him so easily into this world of yours. How you were willing to show him the things precious to you. That you trusted him with this very opportunity to help. Every day he spent with you he felt it, found that between coding his new security program and meeting with Hydra enterprises, its somber reality sent him into a feeling of breathing fresh air. You created a button that turned off the noise in his head. “Because you bring me peace.”

Your eyes stared at him in wonder when he tilted your chin with his thumb and index finger. There was appreciation and happiness, he could see it, feel it. 

Bucky was entranced by your stare when your voice whispered a response to him: “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever been told.”

You leaned forward and Bucky’s heart threatened to jump out of his chest, and then your face fell into his chest, your arms encasing him in the warmest hug he’d ever received. He willed his pulse to slow and wrapped his arms around you tightly. A little humbled and a little confused, but appreciative of the situation nonetheless. 

You stayed like this when you chose a movie to watch. Even after an hour, Bucky’s grip didn’t loosen. He peered down at you on his chest and watched as you fell asleep. And when he was sure you were far away in your slumber, he pressed a warm kiss to your head, lingering in the scent of your shampoo.  

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky stared at his computer screen as the pen in his hand clicked on his glass desk in perfect rhythm. The Shelter website displayed on the surface, portraying a brighter version of the sign you had dragged him to that very first day. 

But it wasn’t the heartfelt story behind the building or the way his pen clicked slightly more hollow every other tap because he turned it too much that had him zoned out at work. It was - as unbelievable as it sounded - a woman. Not just any, no. You. 

“Hey, I need a signature from you for this design draft.” Steve dropped his notepad on the desk, then rounded it and settled behind Bucky who had yet to recognize his presence. 

“This your charity suggestion?” He questioned with his hands on his friend’s office chair. 

Bucky nodded absentmindedly. Perhaps it was because he had decided to support your suggestion the second you had taken his hand on his way to the subway. Or maybe he was just letting his mind roam freely again. Mainly because it was a safe bet to call you into memory and he liked the feeling it provided. 

A pale hand waved in front of his face. “Earth to Bucky.” Steve snapped his fingers, making the brunette jump. “You seem oddly distracted.”

He had been thinking about you. Of course, he had. There seemed to be nothing else he could do lately. Every time Bucky read through his reports, he imagined what your voice would sound like reading them to him. Whenever he went down to IT, he envisioned the room decorated with your flowers and how much happier they would make the place. When he sat in a meeting with HR and watched their burnt-out faces stare back at him through their coffee haze, he wondered if you could make them as lively as you made him. 

Bucky could - so he realized after weeks of denial - not escape you. 

That was one thing. But the more chilling revelation was that he did not mind. He enjoyed the little admonitions his mind set out in his environment. He appreciated the quickening thumb in his chest, whenever he saw his calendar entries stating another meeting with you - so much so that he almost forgot how unusual it was for him. 

It was crazy. A month ago, if someone had dared to tell him he’d be finding something more than his regular flings, he would have laughed in their face. In fact, he actually did a few days before he met you. 

Bucky didn’t know what kind of magical spell you’d put on him, but within a few weeks, he’d started to become a different man. A better version of his thought-to-be-marvelous self. Now he realized what he was missing: a counterpart, someone who made life seem dull without them by his side. He wasn’t going to admit it to Sam or Steve immediately, but the idea of you being that very someone became more attractive each day. 

“Just a lot to do with the gala and all...” Bucky trailed off and spun around to Steve. 

“You know, I never took you for an event manager...” The blonde grinned and his eyes lit up in the office light. “Don’t take this the wrong way, I like seeing you try something new, but this feels very... out of place.”

“But you also know I never back down from a challenge. And I’ll be damned if Nat has something to hold against me for life.”

Steve’s head tipped forward. “We both know that woman has blackmail material for two lifetimes on us. 

“She really does.” Bucky sighed and then slumped back in his chair, the little issue he had been hiding from his best friend gnawing on his mind. 

He thought about Steve and Bambi and how he had just asked her to marry him. She’d said yes, of course, nobody expected otherwise. Steve - of all people - was living a magical fairytale life with the woman of his dreams. And here Bucky was, thinking he had figured it all out with women and relationships - or rather that he never wanted one - yet he found himself wondering why that decision bugged him so much when you came into the picture. 

“Can I ask you something?” Bucky squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, not believing he was really going to ask Steve for dating advice.

“Always.”

“How did you know that Bambi was the one?” A stupid question, really. Bucky already knew there was nobody like you. But it was best to start this conversation off lightly.

Steve smiled widely again, his cheeks tinted pink. “Well, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. And not in an I haven’t touched a woman in years kind of way... I couldn’t stop. Every second of every day, I imagined her with me. The thought of her made me happier even before she knew how I felt about her. And, well, it also hurt like hell when I thought she didn’t return my feelings... when she refused to talk to me for a day...” He cleared his throat and then eyed Bucky again. “Why do you want to know?”

“Nothing in particular. I was just wondering and I needed material for my best man speech.” But the blonde didn’t buy it. He caught Bucky’s chair when he attempted to turn away, pulling him right back in front of him. “Are you dating someone? Is it that woman from the flower shop?”

How did he know about you? “No??” Bucky squinted at Steve. 

“You know if you wanted advice, I do consider myself an expert to some extent now.” Bucky wanted to wipe the smug grin right off his friend’s face. 

“You’re an idiot.” He stood up and paced to the window.

“Oh come on, Buck.” Steve followed suit, the playful grin ever present. “You teased me for years about my love life, can’t be mad now.”

“I’m not mad.” He was annoyed. 

They stood by the glass front for a while, watching the busy city unfold beneath them in the glow of the rising sun. Bucky could feel his friend’s eyes stare at him though. And after another moment of silence, the blonde finally spoke. “You should ask her out.”

“What?” He faced him again. 

“You like her. I can tell. And you’ve never acted like this about a woman, let alone put so much effort into a relationship. I know it’s not your style, but I think it would do you good to at least try.”

“The effort is for the gala.” Bucky corrected. 

“Right. Because that’s your thing... charity galas.” Steve squeezed Bucky’s shoulder and then tapped it and then he made his way to the door. “I’m not going to tell you what to do, but I really wish you would listen to your heart and not be a stubborn dickhead for once. This could be something life-changing - something great. And it’s your choice whether you welcome it or not.”

Life changing. Bucky didn’t like the sound of that. He liked to be in control of the situation and rule over his own life. However that aspect seemed to have left the building when you entered. 

He huffed. There you were back on his mind again, and he felt the tingle creep up his throat. There was no denying it. What Steve had described with Bambi was what Bucky had with you. 

With a shake of his head, he grabbed his coat, told Nat he’d be back in an hour, and then pressed the button for the elevator. He would deny it if Steve ever dared to take pride in convincing him to do so, but he’d also be damned if he didn’t at least try to find out if you felt the same. 

❁ ❁ ❁

There was a burly-looking stranger standing at the counter when Bucky entered your shop. He had willed the traitorous voice in his head to silence all the way here. But now that he saw the handsome older man taking all your attention to the point you hadn’t even noticed him stepping in over the customer's broad shoulders, the heat began to bubble up again. 

Bucky wanted to tell himself you wouldn’t prefer the salt-and-pepper-bearded man over him. But to be honest, he didn’t even know what your type was. Yes, you had cuddled on your sofa just the other night, but since Bucky wouldn’t consider himself an expert in anything other than one-night stands, it could have been a friendly gesture for all he knew. 

“Would that be all for you?” You asked the man and handed him his chance. Bucky watched as his thumb grazed over your hand, feeling a tinge of anger starting to consume him.  

“That’s all. Thank you, sweetheart.”

“I hope to see you again soon, sir.”

“Oh, you can bet on it.” He winked then turned, nodded to Bucky in a brief greeting, and then exited the shop. Bucky’s eyes lingered on the door for a while longer. He took deep breaths as his jaw clenched and the bell above the entrance fell silent. 

“Hey.” A warm hand touched his arm, pulling him right back to your eyes. And just like that, the anger washed away a little. There were just you and him in your tiny oasis amid Brooklyn. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” He forced a smile, but the frown on his face probably betrayed him. “Just thought that man was a little inappropriate.” 

“He’s just a sweet man buying flowers for his wife.” Your eyes glimmered with mischief when you bit your lip. “Bucky... are you jealous?”

Oh, hell no.

“Jealous?” Bucky wasn’t jealous. He couldn’t be. There was nothing to be jealous of. He had no claim to you. Even if he really wished he did. And yet that man had angered him with only the touch of his hand. That was the only thing he’d ever get. Bucky knew what it felt like to have you in his arms, how your body lotion settled in his nose, how your head fit perfectly in the crook of his neck. “No.”

“But you should not be so naïve, dove. Married men are also flirting... and cheating.”

A short laugh escaped your throat before you caught yourself again and Bucky’s heart began doing that funny somersault thing. “Not to burst your bubble or anything, but I do know how the real world works.” You crossed your arms before your chest. “Besides, what do you care if he did ask me out? Maybe it has been a lifelong dream of mine to be a mistress.”

“It’s not. And I don’t. I just think you deserve someone better than a cheater.”

“Oh, like who? The percentage of good guys in this city is disappointingly low.”

Bucky snorted, guided by the excitement in his chest he opened his arms. “Please, I could name at least five guys off the top of my head who are better than whatever that was.” His left hand flailed in the direction of the door, referring to the previous customer. 

“Name one.”

“Me.”

The surprise sprung onto your features faster than Bucky realized what he had said. “What?” 

Well, this was certainly not the way he had planned to ask you out today. Damn jealousy. The only way for this to not be embarrassing was to own up to it now. It was what he had come here for after all, right?

Bucky looked directly into your eyes, his expression sincere and determined. "Yes, me. I may not have everything figured out, but I do know one thing: I care about you. I've seen the way you light up a room, the kindness you show to everyone around you. You deserve someone who sees that, who appreciates it.”

Your eyes softened when you shook your head, averting your gaze to the ground. “I don’t know, Bucky.”

He bit the insides of his cheeks, instantly hoping you’d say something else. Anything that would show him there was a chance you would change your mind. The silence was all-consuming, but he kept his mouth shut, careful not to fuck it up once again. 

“Bucky, I appreciate your honesty, I really do. But I don't think it's a good idea.”

Bucky's brows furrowed, his confidence wavering as your soft refusal hit him. "What do you mean, you don't know?" he asked, his tone tinged with a hint of frustration. He struggled to keep his composure, the unfamiliar feeling of rejection gnawing at him. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he searched for the right thing to say. His jaw tensed, betraying the hurt he felt deep down. "Forget it," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. With a curt nod, he turned on his heel, his disappointment palpable in the air as he made his exit, leaving you to contemplate his unexpected confession.

❁ ❁ ❁

“Why, don’t you just look precious!” You bent down and picked up Sam’s daughter, Darla, who had eagerly stormed through the door as soon as he’d opened it because she wasn’t quite tall enough to reach the handle yet. 

“You... I’ve missed you soooo much.” You nuzzled her into your chest and pretended to squeeze real tight. 

“Come play dragons with me!” The little one squirmed and then hopped off in her tiny knight costume.

“Nothing I would rather do,” you singsonged and then mouthed a ‘she’s grown so much’ to Sam before he closed the door with a shake of his head. 

“I know... she just does it without my permission. Unbelievable.”

About ten minutes later, you sat on the living room floor with a bunch of stuffed dragons, you had been instructed to play. Sam’s daughter was happily fighting the stuffies with her wooden sword and his husband handed you a cup of coffee with a smile. 

“So how have things been?” Matt sat down on the sofa and Sam instantly wrapped his arm around him. Your eyes lingered on the interaction for a second before your gaze wandered back to Darla. 

“Oh, you know, business as usual. The shop is doing very well... the shelters are holding up.” You smiled at her and then made a dragon fall backward in defeat. 

“Hm...” He frowned. “That’s weird... I had a feeling it was getting better soon.”

You smiled tight-lipped and wondered if you had butchered it all with your stubbornness. Matt wasn’t clairvoyant or anything crazy like it. But the joke of his other senses being heightened due to his impaired vision had carried on forever. And even though you never believed in supernatural magical things, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, there was a hunch of truth to it nonetheless. He had been right about many other things after all. 

“I don’t know,” you sighed and Darla excused herself to her room to ‘get more toys’. “Except for the shop, everything else seems to go a little downhill right now.”

“But you have been seeing someone, no?” Matt tilted his head and Sam squeezed his shoulder in an attempt to make him stop. 

“Babe, do we need to talk about appropriate prying again?” 

“Sorry,” Matt blushed, “Occupational hazard.”

You laughed and then turned serious again. “I have... but to be honest, I doubt it will have a future. It’s - I don’t know - it just seems a little too good to be true.”

“It’s been Bucky you’ve been seeing, hasn’t it?” Sam chimed in with a calm deep voice, making your attention snap to him. Your heart began to race at the mention of Bucky’s name. 

“How did you know?”

His fingers lifted in air quotes “A gorgeous girl with a flower shop in Brooklyn that somehow tries to convince him to donate to Sunflower shelters? You did not make it hard, honey.”

“He... he talks to you about me?” Well, that changes things, you thought as you watched Sam reassure you with a small smile. 

"More like a little birdy told me...." Sam shrugged. “What happened?” He leaned forward slightly, his eyes holding concern.

“Isn’t it obvious? I don’t want to be one of his many trophies. And I’m scared, I just made the chase attractive by not putting out immediately.” Your eyes turned glassy. “What if he will lose interest when I do.” Your voice broke, making you almost whisper the last part into the living room. “Because I really really want to...”

Matt cleared his throat. “If it helps anything... I have a feeling you are not going to be just another one-night stand.”

“And why is that?”

“I’ve never seen him like this.” Sam chimed in. “So butthurt about a girl or even put effort in a relationship that would only become a one night stand - which it is not - he wants more, he needs more. He sees a future with you. And as much as his bad-boy demeanor has made that pretty unbelievable in the past, he is changing. I just know, and it’s about time that he aims for peace and quiet and love and comfort.”

Turning your head with a suspicious grin, you answered: “Is Matt contagious? Because that sounded one hell of a lot like a prediction to me.”

Sam just shook his head with a smile, scooted forward on the sofa, and then took your hands in his. “Believe me when I say this: You are so amazing. And not even a douchebag like Bucky could deny it. Yes, he has had his fair share of women in the past, and he can be the most stubborn dickhead in all of New York City, but he’s not stupid. He knows something valuable when he sees it. And you, love, have given him the most precious thing he’s ever had.”

You held eye contact for a short moment, letting your friend’s words sink in and warm you from the inside until the butterflies in your stomach began to tingle. As much as you wanted to refuse, you had shown him love and acceptance every step of the way. And Bucky? Bucky had tried so hard to impress you. He had done so many things just for you, to spend time with you.

You just wrote it off as a means to get you to sleep with him. But at this point, that argument was farfetched. Because throughout the time you spent together, his presence was pleasant, casual, and... wanted. 

“So what do I do now?” You said with determination, making a smile spark on both Sam’s and Matt’s faces.

❁ ❁ ❁

“So, Barnes is unusually grumpy tonight.” Bucky heard Tony say when he came back from the bathroom, jamming his glas on the table to announce he was listening. “Did you get cockblocked or what?”

“Shut it, Stark, or I’ll personally demonstrate your very own cockblock.” Bucky pressed through his teeth. 

“Damn, Buck. What the hell could possibly throw you off this much?” Tony signaled for two more drinks to the bar as Bucky took a seat again. 

Sam looked at him with a raised brow - the fucker knew what was going on. But Bucky refused to get dragged into talking about his feelings. 

“I thought it was going good?” Steve chimed in, a question in his features. Steve, you punk. Shut up!

Bucky knew he was referring to the bouquets of flowers that subtly decorated the office now. First his own desk, then the kitchen. And when Nat had grown suspicious, he proceeded to place them on her desk to have her stop asking questions. 

It wasn’t his doing - not this time. You had just given him a bouquet of the flowers you couldn’t sell anymore every time you met. And Bucky couldn’t bring himself to throw them out. They also reminded him of you and were a nice little distraction from work. ...Not that it mattered anymore.

“Going good? What is going on? What are you talking about, Rogers?”

“Bucky met a- ouch goddamnit!” A kick was heard from beneath the table. And when Steve’s eyes snapped over to Sam, the man just tipped his head with a warning stare. “What the hell, man?”

“Okay, that’s it. I feel like you guys don’t tell me anything. I need details. Now.”

“No.”

Bucky didn’t need Tony to know. In fact, Bucky didn’t need anyone to know he had trouble talking to a woman. He, of all people, who never had any difficulties getting even the married ones - yeah he wasn’t too proud of that... But Tony would just make everything worse. And with his patience hanging by a thread right about now, he was not willing to play with fire. 

“Buck, we- they’re your friends. They deserve to know, especially if things are as serious as you told me.” Bucky just stared at Steve in silence, his gaze trained on the crystal class in front of him with the amber liquid untouched. Steve always had a need to calm the storm. And maybe, Bucky would let him do it this time. 

Truthfully, Bucky couldn’t imagine a life without you anymore. His friends would sooner or later hear about you - if he had not fucked it up entirely. So, it was better to rip the band-aid off now than peel it back painfully slow in the future. 

He crossed his arms and exchanged a brief glance with the blonde, and Steve understood that he was allowed to proceed. 

“Bucky met someone. He’s organizing the charity gala this year and she’s the florist doing the flower arrangements.” He had never noticed it before, but ever since Bambi had entered Steve’s life, his best friend’s fable for romance became more and more apparent to Bucky. 

“She’s also helped him find a cause to donate to. She’s been taking him to the Shelter she has worked at for years,” Sam chimed in and Bucky didn’t even question where he got his information from anymore. Steve and he had always been close, and though Bucky didn’t believe Steve would tell Sam his most private conversations, Sam always had a way of finding out. 

“Event planning? Florist? Who are you and what have you done to Bucky?” Tony looked seriously stunned, But Bucky didn’t expect anything less than incomprehension. He had always been the only one in the group Tony could relate to and talk to when it came to women and lifestyles. Now, that very thing was slipping away. 

Bucky just shrugged, uncertain how to answer. It was true: He had changed quite a bit ever since meeting you. But they weren't bad changes. He actually liked them. 

Steve cleared his throat. “I thought things were going great, just the other day he talked about asking her out. And there were all these flowers in the office, I just assumed...”

“Yeah well, they weren’t.” Bucky interrupted as he felt the frustration creep back up. There were so many new feelings mixing within him that he didn’t know what to do with them. 

“Well it’s good to have you back, I guess. Can’t imagine how that would’ve turned out.” Tony’s hand landed on Bucky’s shoulder, who immediately brushed it off. 

“What do you mean ‘turned out’?”

His head swayed from left to right and his hands turned outward. “Well, we all agree it would have never worked out right? You’re not the one for relationships and she was clearly using you for that charity money.”

What the actual fuck?

“You don’t know her. So don’t you dare assume anything about her.” Bucky sprung up, his hands hitting the table with a thump. “Dove has the kindest, most beautiful soul on this earth.” He wouldn’t let Tony, of all people, insult you. Not you. Not his dove. And, yes, maybe it also hurt a little that his friend did not believe Bucky could change for something truly important. And maybe it scratched his ego that this might have been the reason for your rejection the other day. But all of that seemed unimportant now. 

“Look at you growing all protective.”

“Tony.” Steve’s condescending tone rumbled over the booth. 

A look at Tony and Bucky wanted to smack the smirk off his face. Another look at Sam, whose eyes had grown soft with empathy. And one last look at Steve, who’d only wanted him to be as happy as him. Damn it. 

“You wouldn’t fucking know what I’m talking about, Stark.”

And then he stormed out of the Ironbar and into the night, head fuming, heart racing, and only one thing on his mind. 

❁ ❁ ❁

You were pretty sure Bucky would have kicked your door down had you not opened it the second time he wrapped his fist against it. Now he was standing in front of you, cheeks reddened from the cool night air, chest rising with deep breaths, but still devilishly handsome. 

“Hey, Bucky!” You smiled until you noticed the irritated look in his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

He seemingly ignored you, stepping into your home and then turning once you closed the door. “Do you think I can change?”

“What?”

“Do you believe I could change? That I could become the person you would date?” His eyes were pleasing, his head cocked to the side - fidgedy.

“Is... is this about the other day?”

Bucky looked nervous, vulnerable even. “Just answer my question, please.”

“I believe everyone has the ability to change. But I also know not everyone wants to.” You looked at your hands, suddenly feeling a bit awkward.

“Then why... why do you think I haven’t. Through all the times we’ve gone to the shelter, through all the conversations. I’ve never had that with someone before... what I have with you.”

There it was. You knew you had to talk to him about it sooner or later. Sam and Matt had suggested as much. You just didn't know it would be this soon.

“Bucky, I just don’t want to end up as one of the women passing you on the street, throwing side eyes at the newest one you’re having on your arm.” Yeah... that encounter had been a rather awkard one. Not to mention how nervous you were that night, hopig Bucky had only played it cool in order to protect you.

“See, but that wouldn’t happen to you, dove. It wouldn’t. Because I realized that you are the reason that makes me want to change.” Bucky's gaze softened as he spoke, his tone gentle yet resolute he stepped closer. “I'm not perfect, but I promise you this: I'll always try my best for you. So, yeah, maybe it's a long shot, but I think I could be good for you. And if you'd give me the chance, I'd love to show you.” He took your hands in his, then closed his eyes and came even closer. “I know I'd treat you right.”

Throughout his confession, your gaze never faltered from his face. You could feel the desperate honesty in his tone, in the way his hands lightly trembled. He was scared, and he lay that emotion in your hands - for you to do whatever you needed with it. 

Your voice was shaky when you answered, a light hue of shame fogging the question on the tip of your tongue. “But how do I know...?” That this is not what you’re telling every woman in this godforsaken city? 

But Bucky understood. Because apparently that pull you'd had toward him had been there for a reason. “Because the things you make me feel scare me.” His face was mere inches from yours now, you could see every speck of color in his irises. “They scare me because I’ve never felt them before. Every time I’m not with you, I think of you. In every situation I am in alone, I imagine how much more exciting it would be with you in it. I’m going crazy. I’m lost without you, dove.”

A single tear ran down your face at his confession. This moment felt so raw, his words so sincere. But most importantly, it made your heart pound with excitement. 

“Will you be mine?” His forehead leaned against yours, his hands moving up your arms and to your neck. “Please say yes,” he whispered and his breath tickled your nose. 

He just felt so right. Bucky felt right in your home, in your arms, in your life. “Yes.” You finally answered and as soon as the syllable left your mouth, his lips came crashing onto yours. 

Within seconds, Bucky had you pressed against the door. His hands held your face lovingly, his hands warm and big on your skin. The kiss was deep and so unbelievably pure, it punched the breath from your lunges the second your lips connected. And suddenly you knew that Bucky’s words held far less emptiness than you had feared. Nobody could kiss like this and not be sincere. At least you hoped it to be true because once you’d gotten a taste, you knew you would never want to try anything else. You could get drunk off him. Forever.

Your hands wandered beneath Bucky’s coat, settling in the warmth of his back beneath the thick wool and feeling the muscles ripple when he pulled you even closer. 

You sighed into him because the moment felt so right, so perfect, so tailored to the two of you and Bucky brushed his tongue over your bottom lip. The tingle from the gesture traveled down your spine. Before you could hold yourself back, you let his touch swallow you whole. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky moaned, a feeling so warm and enjoyable taking over his body with every breath you stole from him. He had wanted for this to happen for weeks. And the real thing did not disappoint. 

Your hands roamed his back until they hooked onto his shoulders and began shrugging off his coat. He tried hard to keep your lips on his during the action, not wanting to miss a single moment without them anymore. You were here, you were his, and it was perfect. 

“Bucky,” you whimpered when his thigh made its way between your legs. A move so instinctually feeling for him. But all the other women he’d been with before only seemed like practice now. Preparation to be the best lover you’ve ever had and ever will have. Because you were the real thing, the grand prize, the best person to ever happen to him. 

You ground down on his legs in rhythmic motions, Bucky could feel the heat seeping through his expensive dress pants and it made him feel even hotter. He pushed his leg higher, reveling in the sounds that came from your lips and the very knowledge he was the one providing this pleasure. There was nothing more exhilarating. 

But still, it wasn’t enough. “There are too many layers of clothes between us, dove,” his wet breath brushed against your cheek as he pulled his thigh back for you to take off your jeans. 

“You’re so right.” You grinned and then pulled them down in one swift motion only to reveal a pink pear of panties underneath. 

In an instant, his body was pressed to yours again, his lips attaching to yours like magnets - he couldn’t get enough of the taste of you. But instead of placing his leg right back to get you that delicious friction, his hand began traveling down your front until it disappeared in your underwear. 

If you were any other woman, Bucky would’ve gone down on you. He would have dropped to his knees and eaten you out because he knew it was the fastest way he’d make you come. And he took pride in the fact that the women he was with always had at least one orgasm more than him. But he didn’t do so with you. 

Why?

Because Bucky Barnes got high off of your lips, and he couldn’t possibly imagine not seeing your face, feeling your mouth shape in a silent scream when he would make you come for the first time. 

So his hand had to do for now. His fingers slipped past the thin pink cotton and over your mound to gather your slickness. He gasped when he reached your heated core. “You’re so wet for me, love. So ready.” He pecked the corner of your lips. “So perfect.”

“Yes!” You whined and pressed your pussy into his touch. Bucky immediately started to trace circles on your clit. He took his time to find the motions with which your breath staggered, or your fists clenched in his shirt. With every whimper, every stroke of his hand, he felt his dick strain his pants a little more - the aching exciting him for when he could finally sink into you. 

“Shit, don’t stop. I’m so close.”

“I don’t plan on ever stopping.” He growled into your mouth, his hand movements becoming more frantic, the wet noises filling your apartment. Frankly, Bucky didn’t believe he could ever stop giving you pleasure and having you writhe in his arms with deep sighs. Not until he knew how you sounded cumming on his hand, on his face, on his dick, on the sofa, on the bed, and every other surface he could possibly imagine. Your body was like ecstasy.

Your walls began to clench around his fingers, every drag becoming harder as he imagined his cock being squeezed by you instead. “There you go, Baby. That’s it.”

“OH MY GOD!” You screamed as your hand pulled on his hair, your body growing rigid with pleasure and Bucky kissed every curse word from your lips. 

After a minute, he slowly pulled his hand back, the other caressing the skin on your cheek. “Are you okay?” He whispered, his eyes boring into yours in genuine concern. 

“Are you kidding? I’m more than okay. That was incredible.” Bucky couldn’t help the small chuckle from leaving his lips at your praise. 

“You look really fucking pretty when you come.”

“I’m glad. Because I want you to make me do it again.” You kissed his cheek. “And again.” And then you gently stroked his cock through his pants. “And again.”

And the second you said that Bucky pulled you onto the floor with him. He took his time removing your clothes, kissed the trial of your bra strap all the way down your shoulder, licked and bit at your hips all the way down to your ankles where he finally pulled off your underwear and pressed his lips to the soft skin of your leg. And when you were fully naked, he paused. Bucky’s eyes roamed your body, taking in every divot, every mark and curve of yours.

He sat back on his haunches, his head getting dizzy when the butterflies took over. “God, you’re so beautiful,” Bucky softly wheezed, his hand slowly stroking your leg as you lay spread out in front of him. 

“Come here.” You gestured with your arms open, welcoming him in your embrace with a wide smile. Bucky supported his weight with his arms on either side of your head and let your hands bury in his hair. He closed his eyes letting the warmth of your touch overtake him. Your thumbs stroked over his brows before you whispered: “Look at me.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry I doubted you. I feel the appreciation in the way you talk to me and touch me. It was unfair of me to assume you are your reputation.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s not like I made it easy for you to believe me.”

You chuckled and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Well, I do now.” Your eyes locked with his and a new fire lit within them. 

“Good.” He smirked and then rolled you over so that you were straddling his waist. The cool wooden floor hit his bare back as you had bunched his shirt up on the way, now pulling it over his head and revealing your satisfied stare when your hands traced over his abs.

You shook your head and released a breath. “Shame on me for refusing this for so long.” Your fingers passed his happy trail and began working on his belt. Bucky’s thumbs stroked your thighs as he watched you undress him, the tent in his pants ever so present and growing with every brush of your fingers. 

“Don’t worry, dove. We have all the time in the world to make up for it.” When his pants were off he pulled you forward again, kissing you ferociously. “‘Cause I’m not planning on leaving.”

You smirked and ground down on his cock, interrupting his speech and ripping a guttural sound from his chest. 

He had been holding back. Ever since you'd dragged him into that shelter, he had not touched a woman, because you had him hooked the second you had taken his hand on the way. And now he had to bite his tongue to keep himself from coming in his boxers like a school boy. 

“Are you getting nervous, Bucky?” You grinned and moved again to tease him a little more.

“Can you blame me?” He clenched his jaw when you rocked forward again, his hand stilling your hips with a near-bruising grip. “I’ve wanted you ever since I stepped foot in your shop.”

“You did?” Your head cocked to the side, surprise washing over your face and his dick twitched making Bucky’s cheeks heat up. 

“Yes...” He confessed only to be attacked with your kisses again. He groaned and bucked his hips up until you were a moaning mess on top of him. His hands reached around you, settling on your ass and giving it a small clap. 

“Hand me my walled, baby. It’s in my pants.”

“Why?”

“We need a condom if you don’t want to keep dry-humping me.” He smirked, knowing, feeling there was nothing dry about this anymore. Your arousal was already drenching his boxers. The slick pushing him close to losing it. 

“It’s okay. We don’t have to, I have an IUD.” 

“As much as I want to, we should be safe...” Bucky swallowed and averted his eyes in regret. “Have to get tested again.”

“Oh, ok.” You were disappointed, he could tell. And Bucky was too. It was the first time he ever regretted all his one-night stands because he would kill to fuck you raw and feel all of you. And as hazy as your body made him, he could not ignore the fact that he did have several different sex partners before. It would have to wait a few weeks. And when he would come back clean, he would keep you in the bedroom for a week straight.

You must have noticed his misery because you leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Then you scooched back and retrieved the condom from his wallet. Bucky held his breath when your fingers hooked into his waistband. And when you pulled them down, his cock stood proud and thick with precum already pearling from his tip. 

He reached for the shiny packet in your hand but you pulled your arm up, your eyes stuck on his cock. “Let me.”

“Okay,” he breathed out as he watched you rip the packet. His shaft twitched when your careful hands rolled the condom over him, another bead of precum dripping into the condom and before he could collect himself, you rubbed your pussy all over him, coating him in your arousal. 

Bucky’s hands turned into fists at your sides as he watched you finally sink down on him - inch by inch, your heat welcomed him, his body sparking with pleasure all over. You moaned in unison when he was fully seated inside you, his cock being hugged tightly in your warmth - he’d barely held it together then. 

You planted your hands on his abdomen and rocked forward, sending the both of you reeling. It took a second for Bucky to collect himself. His eyes closed and his nose huffing, he reminded himself of what he had promised you and what he wanted his first time with you to be. When he opened his eyes again, his hands moved over your body with determination. One setting over your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers, the other began tracing tight circles on your clit. 

Your head fell back, a vision of ecstasy and pleasure unfolding before him when he sent you over the edge a second time. He slowed your hips on his and rubbed your pussy with his thumb. He needed you to come again. And then again, and he had to hold out for that long. But the way your chest heaved, the light sheen of sweat forming on your skin, made his plan more than difficult. 

It took all of Bucky’s willpower to pull you off his cock and push you to his legs. He sat up and kissed up your neck until he reached your lips. “What are you doing?”

“Giving you what you asked for.” He mumbled against your skin and then licked over your nipple, the other being caressed by his fingers. His free hand found its place right between your legs again and when you moaned lowly, he slipped two fingers inside you. 

Your pussy was squelching, the lewd sound traveling across the living room as Bucky worked you towards another release. You were already squirming in his hands again. Your fists pulled at his roots, sending a shiver straight to his cock when you leaned his head back. “You’re amazing.” Your breath was hot, fanning over his lips only to be replaced by them again. His tongue slipped inside and mimicking the movement of his fingers in your pussy. 

“Right back at ya, dove. I can't wait to be inside you again.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“For you to come again.” He bit your lip and sped up his fingers already feeling you squeeze him tightly. “So you’re satiated when I come deep inside you, feeling you squeeze me with that perfect pussy of yours until you see stars.”

“Shitshitshit. I’m coming!” A series of curses flew past him when you pulsed around his fingers, gushing all over his hand and lap until he finished rocking you through your third orgasm. 

“Fuck,” Bucky licked your juices off his fingers and his eyes rolled back into his head. 

“I don’t think I have another in me, Bucky.”

“Don’t worry, love. I got you.” And with that he hooked your legs around his waist, falling forward until you were with your back to the floor, Bucky hovering over you and aligning his length with your entrance. 

He couldn’t wait anymore, in one swift motion, Bucky fully bottomed out until his balls hit your ass. And when he was confident you were comfortable, he set a relentless pace. He had been on the edge this entire time. You had almost made him come just having him watch you let go. But there was nothing like the feeling of your pussy hugging him tightly, your body writhing beneath his, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure and nails raking down his back. 

“You feel so good,” he grunted and you just moaned in response.

“Look at me, please.” His hand turned your face. “I need to see you.” 

Bucky snapped his hips into yours even faster, your walls already clenching tightly around him and he threatened to burst. Your eyes opened and fell to his and Bucky couldn’t stop his orgasm from ripping through him anymore. His strokes stuttered, his balls tightened, but he held eye contact with you, searching your hand behind his back to lock your fingers with his. 

The white pleasure exploded within him, elevated by your own peak hitting with full force. He kissed you then, feeling like he was somewhere between heaven and your living room floor. His mind was consumed by you, his body tingling in aftershocks as he rocked you through your highs. 

His damp chest fell into yours when you came down. He rolled on his back, taking you with him, pressed deeply into his body, his cock still buried inside you. Bucky’s chest was heaving, the last remnants of pleasure sparkling in his nerves. He kissed your hand and cuddled you closer. 

This was what he was made for. To be with you, to be consumed by your affection and warmth. 

He smoothed over your head and felt your lashes flutter on his skin. His heart was blooming with contentment - all the fear he’d felt to commit was miles away, lost somewhere between the Ironbar and your doorstep. There was nothing he was more sure of. 

“Let me do this right. Let me take you out.” He whispered into your hair with a smile, trying to remember a time he’d ever been this happy. 

You snorted as your hand gently stroked over his chest. “Bucky, you’re literally ballsdeep inside of me right now.”

Bucky chuckled as well, his hand rubbed down your bare back in a soothing motion when he kissed your head. “Nothing like a convincing argument, huh.”

🫵 You cant get enough of this character? Go check out the chatbot I made for him! This way you can explore different endlings, plotlines, or just enjoy his company for a while longer 💕

You already know your girl couldn't decide which GIF to use. So here are the extra ones:

Woooow, you've made it this far! Thank you so much 💕 If you have some time to spare, I would reaaaally appreciate some feedback from you. A comment or a reblog can help so much to reach more people and improve writing. Talk to you soon ~Meg 💞

Wanna be added to the taglist?

@circe143 @valkyrie418 @mirikusashes @noideawhyimdoingthislol @nikkitc0703 @lethallyprotected @erynnnn @misshale21 @wattpaduser200 @buckyseddie @adoreyouusugar @km-ffluv @mcu21lover19 @almosttoopizza @royalwritersoftheuniverses @i-l-y-3000 @mrsgweasley @prettylittlepluviophile @dinwifey @stuckysgirl27 @wintermischief @broadwaybabe18 @fridayiaminlove @buckybarnessimpp @goodkittyspost @justafangir1 @simpxinnie @blackhawkfanatic @augustbucky @kandis-mom @harleycao @ashhsage @hhiggs @scott-loki-barnes @gabshouse @barnes1031 @am-3-thyst @awkotaco24 @fangirl-swagg @she-wolf09231982

also tagging my steve tags (for everyone who wanted an update on Bambi) 🤗 :

[imyourbratzdoll]

Breeding Kink Steve/Bucky eventho you already have a couple of kids 🫣

hi baby! I'm so sorry for taking so long, I hope you like what I wrote.

summary - breeding kink gone wild, your husbands take it to the next level by forever wanting you to carry their child.

warning - smut, breeding kink, sorta dubcon but not really, mentions of pregnancy, creampie, threesome.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

“C’mon, Doll. Let us pump you full, want you to have our babies.” Bucky groans in your ear, pressed against your back where you can feel his bulge. You whine, letting out a breathy whimper as Steve grips your hips, pressing soft kisses to your neck, occasionally marking it as well.

“What do you say, Sweetheart? Wanna be full of our cum?”

You squirm, vision becoming hazy as lust clouds your mind. “B–but, we already have two…” Your head falls back, moaning loudly as their cocks slide inside of you without much warning. You didn’t even see them take their cocks out. Your cunt clenches around them, arousal dripping down their thick members, making it easier for them to thrust into you.

“Doesn’t matter, Doll. We wanna breed you forever and watch you grow with our child.” Bucky thrusts in and out, hands sliding up your body until they grasp your breasts. His moans so close to your ear that it causes tingles to spread throughout your body, your cunt clenching around your men. 

Steve groans, biting down on his bottom lip hard as he looks down at you with dark eyes. Your own cloudy ones connect with his, lips parting as you feel them pulse inside of you, gripping them tightly when they hit your sweet spot. Steve’s eyes roll to the back of his head and groans slip past his lips as he pounds into you hard and fast, feeling your little cunt clench around him from his brutal thrusts. 

They continue to have their way with you, fucking you so hard that you see stars. Your juices squirt out of you, causing their cocks to twitch and pump you full of their cum once again. Filling you with large amounts that will likely be the cause of your next pregnancy. Steve and Bucky take turns kissing your lips before cleaning you up. They lay you down on your large bed and grin as they caress your stomach, waiting for the moment you pop this one out for them to start all over again. 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

blushing birthday

a/n: iihhh! first story in this slutty au! felt like this was a good place to jump off from. and also, i just wanna point this out because i nearly never do and perhaps some people don’t realise it, but if you have a thought, an idea, a wish or request in this au (or any other, my inbox is always open for requests) then feel free to click on my ask button and send it my way ♡

summary: “so, what I was thinking,” you tilted your head, “was that before I go give him his present, you guys could maybe help me prep a little bit, warm me up and stretch out my ass enough to fit his big fat cock. Would you guys like that?”

warnings: various x camgirl!reader, smut, porn au, college au, roommate!bucky barnes, roommate!steve rogers, roommate!curtis everett, ex!ransom drysdale, dilf neighbour!andy barber, reader's porn name is cherry blossom (UrLittleCherry), friends with benefits, happy hippie fun poly vibes, curtis’ birthday, partying, alcohol consumption, kissing, masturbation, impact play, fingering, toys, edging, clothed sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, dirty talk, size kink, manhandling, multiple orgasms, anal, penetrative sex, unprotected sex

word count: 3953

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

sugar & spice au masterlist | 101, intro to the au

masterlist | join my taglist 

The last rays of sunshine for the day streamed in through the half-drawn curtains and cast soft shadows across your form as you sat cross-legged on your mattress. 

With your reach outstretched towards your laptop propped up on the chair situated at the foot of your bed, you clicked on the go live button and watched as a countdown appeared on the screen, overlaying your visage staring back at you as your gaze briefly flickered around to check your gear one last time. 

Thanks to your three roommates who’d insisted on helping you upgrade your setup, there wasn’t just one, but two cameras pointing directly at you. One angle to catch all of your frame and one zoomed-in to capture a perfect close-up between your legs. 

“Hey guys!” a warm smile swiftly dazzled your features as you watched the first few people jump at your notification, “good evening or good–, whatever time of day it is for you.” 

The messages in the chat started rolling in, some with usernames you recognised and some you didn’t. 

TheFrogo: Hi Cherry! How are you? Have you had a good day so far?

DrownByPussy: Omg you’re finally live! I’ve been hard all day knowing I’d get to see you today.

“Hi Frogo, yeah, I’ve had a pretty good day, but I’m hoping that it might get even better, because I’ve got something pretty fun planned for tonight,” your hands absentmindedly fidgeted along the length of your legs as you spoke, “so, today is a friend of mine’s birthday and–, wait,” you paused and leaned in closer to catch a better look of the scrolling messages, “I haven’t seen you write in the chat yet, but birthday boy, if you’re here, you better log off right now or you’ll ruin your surprise,” you warned, glancing straight into the camera, “I’ll give you five seconds get off,” a pointer finger then kissed each of your digits as you counted down, “five… four… three… two… one,” you squinted a moment longer before a giggle bubbled out, “okay, so now that it’s just us, I can tell you what I’ve got planned,” you switched up your seat, moving your legs to comfortably kneel on the mattress with your frame slightly turned at an angle for you to better see the screen, but retroactively grant everyone a view of the curve of your spine as the line swooped down over your waist and blossomed into the plush of your ass, sinfully on display in the pastel blue, mesh lingerie you wore, “there is one thing in particular that he has just been begging for… any guesses?”

A_B_Cunt_Destroyer: Hmm… is it a particular fantasy? A little bit of roleplay action? 

8inchStallion: Threesome? 

“Nope. All fun suggestions, but no.”

TittyCokeKingXXX: Is it to bang in public?

Cream314159: How about anal? 

“Cream! Yes! You guessed it!” you excitedly threw your hands up in the air, “it is anal that he’s been dreaming about.”

Ddadddy6969: I mean, who can blame him.

ItsBradBtch: Fucking same.

TearinYoBootyUp: Wish it was my birthday today so you’d let me fuck your tight little ass.

“So, what I was thinking,” you tilted your head, “was that before I go give him his present, you guys could maybe help me prep a little bit, warm me up and stretch out my ass enough to fit his big fat cock. Would you guys like that?”

KyleKyleson: Yes!

UrPervyDaddy398: Hell yeah, let’s get you ready to take that monster cock.

Casting a glance out of the nearby window, your eye couldn’t help but catch sight of the neighbouring house. It didn’t look like the divorced dad who resided there was home, though you still nevertheless searched for him. You weren’t completely clueless to his infatuation with you, though it had almost turned into a game, always trying to catch him peeping at you through the windows, or even taking it further by purposely wearing something skimpy when you’d go get the mail or other activities where you would know you’d bump into him. You didn’t judge him to be the type of man to ever really do anything about it, to actually reach out and grasp a wet dream of a girl so much his junior, but the teasing had become too much fun for you to stop, you were too far gone to draw the curtains closed now. 

As a quiet jingle sounded from your speakers, indicating that someone had tipped you, your gaze flickered back towards the computer screen. 

A_B_Cunt_Destroyer: Is that the underwear set I bought you off your wishlist? You look even more gorgeous in it than I imagined.

“Oh, thanks A,” you let your palms graze down over the thin mesh, feeling your pussy clench as your touch brushed over your nipples poking through the baby blue material, “yeah, it is. It matches the dress I’m planning on wearing tonight, so I thought I’d be cute.”

Call_Me_Sir_844: Turn around, Cherry. Let us see it from the back.  

“Yes, sir, of course,” you chuckled lightly before shifting around, purposely arching your back as you glanced over your shoulder. 

729AlwaysHard: How is your ass even real?

Like1OfUrFrenchGrls: Damn, that butt is just begging for a spanking.

Raking your touch down your sides, you smirked, “oh, you want me to spank my ass?” before the jingle of a tip echoed from the computer, “alright, baby,” and like a cat, your frame scooped down, gliding on to all fours and sticking your bottom high up in the air, “how many do you think? Let’s say, highest tipper gets to decide, but please, be kind, I still have to be able to dance the night away tonight.”

TittyCokeKingXXX tipped $50 – 10 spanks, with a paddle

BootyLover47 tipped $35 – 4 spanks

MrHansen tipped $100 – 6 spanks 

“Thank you guys,” you wiggled playfully for them, “and Mr. Hansen, wow, thank you so much!” you squeaked ecstatically, “well, I guess I better start counting then.” 

After each smack your palm landed on your propped-up bottom, the coinciding number rolled off your lips till your ass was tingling and sore for all your viewers to see. 

WinterIsCumming: Fuck, just seeing your little pussy through those panties… they’re soaked, aren’t they?

Gliding a hand down between your legs, your fingertips ghosted over the sheer fabric that clung to your core.

“They are, Winter,” you blinked up at the camera, “man, I wish you were here to give me a hand.”

NastyBoi: Show us that pretty little pussy, come on, don’t be shy now.

“You want me to take my underwear off for you? Take them off so that I can really play?”

And with the chimes of tips swiftly ringing in your ears, one of your fingers then hooked in the gusset and carefully peeled it to the side, letting it act as a frame as you momentarily teased them with just a glimpse of your glistening folds, before you slowly slid them off completely. 

Eventually, after your slick digits had gotten a chance to warm you up and tease you till you were practically buzzing on both of the camera angles that now displayed you, as it hadn’t taken you very long till you switched to a split screen, both your face frozen in a silent moan and your pretty holes drooling for attention pressed up against one another, side by side on the stream, your fingers then reached for a toy, the pretty glass dildo you had picked out just before the show.

You first popped the toy in your mouth as you flipped around and relaxed back against your pile of pillows. Letting your gaze flicker over the downright filthy comments rolling across the screen, you sucked on the toy for a bit before pulling it out and letting it float down south. 

“Fuck,” your eyes fluttered slightly as you rubbed the tip gently against your little rosebud, “oh, that feels so good.” 

Cream314159: Yeah, Cherry, tease that little ass like a good slut.

8inchStallion: Fuck, you’re gonna make me blow my load soon if you keep looking like that. 

Ddadddy6969: Has your fuck buddy really never had your ass before? Tbh kinda hard to believe considering what a whore you are for all of us. I love your anal shows, they’re always my favourite. 

“I know, daddy,” a light giggle tore through your form, “I’m honestly kinda surprised as well, but no, it hasn’t happened yet.” 

BongDong420: Wait, are you an anal virgin? Plot twist. 

“No, no, I’m not, I love anal,” you sucked in a gentle gasp as you let just the tip of the toy breach your tight opening, “I just haven’t really done it yet with too many different people. Actually, I’ve only done it with one so far, now that I think about it,” you swiftly shook your head and forced your eyes to flicker to the messages to rid your thoughts of your ex. 

Call_Me_Sir_844: Please open your mouth, I’m gonna cum!

“Oh, yes, please cum for me, sir,” you answered the comment and then let your lips part wide. As your tongue stuck out as well, a string of saliva soon dripped down as you waited, the spit colliding with your tits and running down your cleavage. 

A_B_Cunt_Destroyer tipped $550 – Don’t let yourself cum. Edge yourself so that you can be all drippy and dumb for him like a good little present should be. 

Since you and your roommates lived in a residential area too quiet for college ragers, some of the guys Steve and Bucky were on the football team with offered to throw the bash at their fraternity. 

Music blared, nearly making the entire house rumble, as you walked around the place, searching for the one of your roommates who the party was in honour of. 

Fiddling lightly with the hem of your silky dress as you peeked into the room where a rowdy game of beer pong was afoot, you still felt a little dizzy as desperation soaked through your ruined panties. 

Though, as you checked the kitchen, a bulky frame bumped into you, though it wasn’t just any run-of-the-mill frat boy, incapable of watching where they went, it was the very last person you wished to lay your eyes upon. 

“Y/n, hey,” the trust fund kid caught your arm before you could slip away. 

“Ransom,” you couldn’t help but clench your jaw as you tried to free yourself of his hold, “hello.”

“I didn’t know you were gonna be here tonight.” 

“Why wouldn’t I be here?” you nearly scoffed as you squinted up at him, “it’s my roommate’s birthday party.” 

“Right, forgot you moved in with all of them, became just one of the boys…” as a beat of silence fell over him, he let his gaze then rake over your form, lapping up the soft blue material that draped across your curves, “you look good tonight, by the way.”

“I–…” your eyes fluttered shut as you let out a sigh, “Ransom, can we not? Just for tonight, can we not do all of this? Just let me be here, celebrate my friend, and then after that, if you so wish, we can get back to our regularly scheduled program. Just one night of peace, that’s all I’m asking for.”

His dark brows then furrowed as he cocked his head, “babe, come on–”

Cutting him off with a scoff, you spat, “I haven’t been your babe since you broke up with me.”

He had been all for landing a girl that was essentially a wet dream come true when it came to all of the sinful areas you were itching to explore with him, but what hadn’t been a part of his plans was having a girlfriend who wasn’t exclusively a slut for him and him alone. He’d told you to choose between him and your dirty little hobby, but to his surprise, you hadn’t even hesitated when you didn’t choose him. 

A low sigh then puffed from his lungs, “fine.”

Heatedly ripping your arm free, you echoed, “fine,” before turning on your heel and exiting the kitchen. 

Luckily, your search didn’t drag on too much further before you stumbled upon your celebrated friend. 

“There you are!” you exclaimed, your voice ushering Curtis’ head to twist in your direction, his glance shifting from the pool table before him. 

“Baby!” he swiftly threw open his inked arms and pulled you close, “hey!”

Hearing the heavy balls clank around on the table, you asked, “are you in the middle of a game or could I steal you away for a sec?”

“Nah, not this round,” he withdrew only ever so slightly, letting one of his arms stay draped over your shoulders, “what do you need?”

Pulling him with you in the direction of the wide staircase, you smirked, “I just have a present to give you…”

“Another one?” he blinked as you dragged him up the steps. 

“Well, you deserve the world, so yes, you get another one this year,” you offered him a warm smile. 

“Man,” he exhaled as you reached the upper level, “happy birthday to me,” a smirk spread across his features as he willingly let you push him into one of the rooms. 

It was a study room filled with long communal desks, tall bookcases and velvet armchairs. It was also, thankfully, vacant of any other partygoers. 

“Happy birthday, Curtis,” you didn’t waste any time, the door barely managed to slam behind you, before you yanked him in for a kiss. 

It took him a second before he caught up with your sudden actions, but as soon as he did, a gentle giggle rumbled from his intoxicated form and vibrated against your lips as he enveloped his long arms around your frame. 

Feet shuffling, your roommate soon bumped into one of the tables, lending him to half sit on it as you let your touch rake down his figure. Even with the swift and determined pace your desperation drove you to have, it still didn’t take that long for Curtis to be on the same page as you, and when your palm fluttered down to cup him through his pants, the tent twitched beneath your touch. 

At first, when you then withdrew from the kiss, Curtis instinctively followed your disappearing lips till he noticed your knees buckling as you sank down onto the floor. 

“This is so much better than losing at pool,” he gazed down at you between his thighs, nearly hypnotised as you tugged at his zipper.

“I’d sure hope so,” you nearly scoffed as you freed him of his binds, not hesitating to lean in and swipe your tongue silkily against the very tip of him as soon as you had the chance, “although, you know I never mind being a consolation prize.”

“Consolation prize?” his tone filtered through a soft groan as your fist enclosed around his base, twisting slightly as it jerked up to graze your mouth, “that’s not what you were last week.”

“Yeah, but that was different,” your giggle vibrated against him, “it’s okay, baby. Maybe next time we play at home you’ll get to win and show the others who’s boss,” you purred before your lips enveloped fully around his fat girth. 

When spit and slobber soon bubbled out and dripped down onto your chest from your efforts, you got back up to your feet. As you let the back of your palm wipe a bit of the mess from your chin, you twisted your frame around and let your spine melt back against this broad chest. 

As you felt Curtis’ fingers dig into your dress and hike it up, you rolled your hips back against him, nearly dizzy with want. Gliding a hand down between your thighs, you captured the sodden material, utterly ruined and clinging to your core, before you yanked it to the side, the leaky mess not yet ready to let go of the panties and spiderwebbing to where you pulled it to the side.  

Reaching around, your grip captured his cock once again as you tilted him to teasingly brush through your folds, your activities from earlier made it almost pathetic how sloppy you got him in a matter of seconds. 

As his lips pressed to your cheek in a hot kiss, you glanced over your shoulder to catch his eye and take in his reaction.

You didn’t warn him, nor say anything at all. Only a smirk glimmered on your lips as a forewarning before you led him away from the leaky entrance he naturally assumed you’d let him into, and instead arched your back and eased his slicked-up length into somewhere else. 

“Oh–, holy shit,” his eyes flickered down to affirm what you were doing before blinking up at you in the assumption that it was a mistake, “baby, you’re–”

“I know,” you smiled at the way his chest heaved at the realisation. 

“Wait, seriously?” 

“Told you I had another present for you,” your gloating grin softened at the moan that slipped out as you sank down just a little further upon his dick. 

His fingers dented both sides of your hips as you slowly let him feel more of you, “oh my god, you’re the fucking best…” 

It was shallow at first, gentle as you controlled the pace, though still mind-meltingly intense as you fucked back against him till your knees began to wobble, feeling each and every little detail of his stretch your little ass out. 

You felt his hot breath on the side of your face between the lazy pecks he planted there and occasionally veering further south to try and mark your neck up with his bites. 

“O-oh, fuck,” you whimpered when one of his inked arms snaked around to your front and stretched down to rub your clit, swollen and throbbing between the pads of his rough fingers. 

Since you’d backed away from the edge not too long before, its overwhelming return was swift and quickly rendered you a shivering mess in his arms as your rhythm came to a rest and the tight circles he drew over your puffy pearl pushed you into insanity. 

Eyes still shut as you were panting for breath, you felt Curtis pluck up your chin and tilt it so that his lips could seize yours. 

Though the blissful pause didn’t last very long before he manoeuvred you around, manhandling you into a new configuration, though all the while never slipping his cock out. 

His palm was heavy against your back as he whirled you around and bent you over the table. Cheek smooshed against the smooth wooden surface, the thunderous snap his hips then offered caused the desk to rattle beneath you. 

However, just as you sensed him begin to lose himself, burying his cock so deep inside of you that it caused you to see stars, the creaking sound of the door to the study swinging open sliced through the lewd harmonies already filling the room.

Even though you couldn’t really glance over your shoulder to see who it was that entered, the recognisable voices that then found your ears calmed your worries about why Curtis’ pace for some reason hadn’t slowed down in the slightest. 

“No, I’m not kidding, that’s really what–, oh,” Bucky’s sentence paused as soon he spotted you, “hello you two.”

You attempted to tilt your head against the table as the last of your roommates came into view, shut the door behind them and stepped closer. 

As you reached out a wobbly hand to grasp Steve’s, he sweetly caught it in his and chuckled at your cock drunk visage, “hey.”

“Hmm–, hi…” you attempted to greet them, Bucky swiftly bending down to briefly be at your height, letting his fingers brush some of your hair out of your face as Curtis’ efforts jolted your frame against the table at every feverish thrust. 

“Was wondering where you guys were,” Steve held onto your hand a little longer as his glance met the blissful gaze of the man who was balls deep inside of you, “I thought she already gave you her little present.”

“You knew?” Curtis tilted his chin, to which you tried to explain with a mumble, though one of your roommates didn’t hesitate to playfully ask you to clarify.

“I’m sorry what was that? You’re being too much of whore right now for me to understand you,” Bucky pressed a peck to your brow before straightening back up, “look, I would have totally told you man, but she threatened us not to ruin the surprise.” 

“Yeah, said that if you didn’t get to take a dip first, then none of us ever would,” Steve added. 

“Aw,” you felt Curtis kneed your bottom as he slammed into you, “you’d really have done that?”

“I did say you deserve the world, so yeah,” you managed to squeak. 

“It’s so cute how sappy birthdays make you,” Bucky smirked, “such a shame not one of us even hesitates to exploit it.” 

As one hand stayed glued to the curve of your ass, his thumb hooked in your underwear to grant not only him but the rest a perfect view of just how well you took him, Curtis’ other hand then stretched out to grasp the half-empty beer that Steve handed him, briefly taking a swig before handing it back. 

“Yeah, she really is just such a good little girl, aren’t you?” Steve found a seat on one of the nearby chairs. 

“Mhm…” you barely caught sight of how both of them palmed themselves for an ounce of relief. 

Sitting down as well, Bucky squinted cockily back at you as your hazy eyes briefly caught his, “what was that, sweetheart?”  

“I’m a–,” you blubbered as Curtis’ cock stretched you so wide that you even felt it press against the sweet spots in your throbbing pussy, “I’m a g-good girl–”

“Yes, you are, baby, that’s right,” Curtis chuckled warmly behind you before offering your ass a swift slap, “the fucking best.”

“Oh, oh! She’s so close to cumming, I can see it!” Bucky exclaimed in an almost mocking tone as your eyes began to roll, “just look at that face,” he nearly jumped to get closer, “so fucking pretty.”

“Come on, Y/n,” Steve leaned back in his seat and squeezed his hard-on as he stared at your fucked out form, “give us a good show. Make it good for the birthday boy.” 

Although, unfortunately, you were already too far gone by then to take any of their lewd comments into account as you tumbled over the edge, floating in the sea of your cheering roommates as a soundtrack. 

After your friend had emptied himself into your haven, he simply slid your panties back into place so that his cum could leak out of you for the rest of the party and ruin your sheer underwear completely, perhaps even give up entirely and run down your shaky legs for all to see.

Bending down to smother you back to life with kisses, you also felt Curtis’ arms tangle around you as he hugged you and slowly lifted you off of the table. 

“You wanna go down and dance?” his low timbre tickled the shell of your ear. 

“Just give me a second,” you breathed through your hazy smile as you fought to blink your eyes back open, “my legs will first have to start working again. Maybe you could take over the music for a second and queue up something slow,” you light-heartedly suggested with an airy chuckle. 

“Don’t you worry, baby,” Bucky smirked from across the table, “we’ll help keep you upright.” 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[ironshieldchild]

a little something i made lmao

[buckyalpine]

18 + That is your warning so stop reading. Imagine being an absolute slut for your bodyguard Bucky even though your very much so dating Steve.

"You're thinking about him, aren't you" Steve snarled, picking up his pace while you hiccupped, "You filthy fuckin' slut, you worked up and down on his cock didn't you, I'm the only one who gets to fuck you like this"

“But I love riding his dick daddy” You wailed while bouncing on Steve's cock, biting you lip, your eyes rolling back thinking about how Bucky stretched you open like a whore, splitting you in half. "I wan Bucky's cock" You sobbed, sounding needier than ever and it made Steve leak.

"Fuck sugar, that right? You're that much of a desperate slut, you want my best friends cock?"

"Uh-huh" you nodded, nearly going cross eyed, making an utter mess all over the dark blond curls at the base of Steve's cock. He didn't stop his harsh thrusts as the door clicked open, your body guard striding into the office, his cock already rock hard.

"Hey pretty girl" Bucky cooed, smirking at how cockdrunk you were while he rounded he corner of the desk to where you were splayed across Steve's lap where he sat in his office chair. He traced your pouty bottom lip before slipping his thumb into your mouth, humming in satisfaction at the way you sucked it, moaning around the metal digit.

"Go on, finish what I started" Steve nodded while you squeaked as Bucky picked up you up effortlessly off of Steve's cock, and tossing you over his shoulder.

"Need my cock, huh Bambi, that all?" Bucky's wide palm rubbed your sore ass where Steve had spanked you, turning over to place a quick kiss onto the hot skin before laying you down on the table. You let out a needy moan at the sound of his belt hitting the floor, so deep in subby space, spreading your legs extra wide as he pulled his pants down just enough to free his cock.

"Look at that, such a good girl, spreading her legs for me" Bucky leaned over to take a good look at you, your dazed expression and wiggling hips making his balls impossibly heavy. "Wanna show Steve how well you take my cock baby? Show him how I make you moan and cum, n'how I play with that cute little button between your legs?"

"Mph, Bucky please" You whined, pouting at the disappointed tsk Bucky made.

"That's not what you call me Bambi, c'mon, whose cock do you want, say it"

"Fuck me, Sergeant-OH-MY-GODD" You cried out as Bucky slammed into you, setting in a brutal pace without waring, your body bouncing against the desk as he gripped onto your hips.

"That's-it-good girl-good. fucking. girl" Bucky snarled through gritted teeth, slamming your body down onto his cock, his head thrown back, moving one hand to wrap around your neck. He was too enamored with you to notice the way Steve's hand was wrapped around his cock, working his swollen, silky tip, watching his pretty princess take his best friend like her life depended on it.

Bucky spat right onto your clit, rubbing tight circles around you with a feral look on his face feeling you squeeze around him, bending your thighs up till they hit your chest, hitting a deeper angle.

"Feel that? M'so deep in your pussy baby, s'fuckin' deep, can feel your little clit throbbing, it's all swollen huh Bambi, you're soaking my cock, make a mess all over it princess, it's all yours"

"Sergeant-gonna-I-" You couldn't forumalte words, tears streaming down your face and falling onto the desk under you, the band in your belly ready to snap-

"You gonna cum for my best friend babygirl?" Steve's focus was locked in at where Bucky was connected to you, watching his cock slam in and out of your tight cunt, stretching you wide open, his own cock growing impossibly harder, "Fuck, you're a dirty slut, I'm gonna-fuck m'cumming" Steve's voice was breathless, his chest heaving as he worked his cock faster, eyes rolling back as white streams of cream decorated his black shirt, nearly shooting to his beard. "Holy shit"

"BUCKY M'CU-UMINGG" You wailed, your back arching off the table, screaming with every muscle in your body pulled taught. You couldn't tell where your orgasm began or where it ended, unending waves of pleasure drowning you while Bucky began to chase his own.

"Cum for your Sergeant baby, that's it, such a good girl, you make my cock so hard Bambi, y'feel so good, not gonna last, shittt-HNG" Bucky let out a guttural moan, not giving a fuck that Steve was right there, pumping you full of his cum until his balls were empty and his cock was soft. He tucked himself back in his pants before removing his shirt to wipe you down and picking you up, letting you wrap yourself around him like a koala. Your boyfriend followed closely behind, smirking at the needy noise you made, checking to see that Steve was also coming for some post sex naps, sighing contently when you saw him following near by.

"Off to bed, Bambi"

[hansensgirl]

☠️ — 𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝

summary. | Steve Rogers and his wife have a precarious arrangement in which she can have as many affairs as she likes, as long as she doesn’t ask for a divorce. But a man like him only has so much patience. And there you are, his child’s babysitter, too sweet to resist.

pairings. | Dark!Steve Rogers x baby-sitter!fem!reader, Steve Rogers x Peggy Carter (brief), Peggy Carter x numerous OMCs (implied/mentioned).

warnings. | NON/DUB-CON (leaning more towards dubious consent), smut, age gap, Halloween celebrations, deceit, manipulation, Steve is mean to his wife, obsession, possessiveness, implied murder (not the reader), mentions of masturbation (m), fingering (f), kissing, nipple play, Sir kink, mild Daddy kink, creampie, dirty talk, power dynamics/imbalance, praise, mild degradation, pet names (sweetheart, sweetie, honey, baby, love), missionary, rough sex, mentions of exhibitionism, mentions of riding, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

word count. | ~4.8k

author’s note. | hello! happy belated halloween! i know i’m a bit late—i’m sorry. here’s the dark!steve fic i was talking about. it’s a Deep Water!AU. please enjoy and heed the warnings! thank you @cuttlefjsh for beta-ing and putting up with me! let me know what you think. thank you for reading! taglist: @hansensfics. MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY

The leaves fall apart underneath the pace of his feet. The hill slopes downwards, and the branches snap and hit the ground. Steve keeps pushing—keeps running even though he’s long devolved from a jog. The burn in his lungs is beautiful. He’s breathless.

For once, he doesn’t have to think about little Sarah and her mother. He doesn’t have to worry like a housewife, even though he was once the man of the house.

Millions in revenue. Two vacation homes. Endless income. But it’s never enough for her.

When Steve reaches the creek, he stops. The Apple watch on his wrist clocks in an unhealthy amount of steps. Unhealthy for everyone else, at least. He’s always been above average, and now he’s just like the rest.

Another greying head in the sea of a crowd. Another typical client his shrink has with the same old problems—a cheating wife, a midlife crisis.

His phone buzzes, and Steve half-expects a reminder he doesn’t need. But it’s better—so much better than he could ever predict.

It’s you—your name with a heart. His spouse doesn’t even have that—she’s just got her entire government name with “wife” in parentheses.

Hi, Mr. Rogers. Hope you enjoyed your weekend! I wanted to confirm that I’m coming tonight. I texted Mrs. Rogers yesterday, but I haven’t received a reply yet. Sorry to be pushy. I just need to know in time. Thanks, and Happy Halloween! 🎃

He sighs. He’s never understood why you always go to Peggy first, even though you’ve seen her incompetency more than you do your own family. He’ll have a talk with you tonight—while Peggy is out on a date with her latest suitor.

Hey, honey. I hope your weekend is as wonderful as you are. Yes, we’re still on for tonight. Don’t worry about my wife. From now on, just come to me, okay? Be here by 7:00, please. Thanks. Happy Halloween! 👻

Steve replies a few minutes later, but you read his message immediately. The timestamp makes him smile. Soon, the ‘typing’ icon pops up and following it is your message.

Great, thank you so much! See you then :)

You even leave a ‘heart’ on his text message; he does the same to yours. A sigh escapes the older man’s chest. His heart has returned to its regular rate, and the sweat on his back has cooled.

The scene before him is gorgeous—but doesn’t even hold a candle to your beauty. The thought of you is more addictive than any illicit substance. It calms him down when he needs to and riles him up at the worst times.

Steve says it’s not fair. Peggy shouldn't have all the fun with her boyfriends—even when her husband gets rid of them quicker than need be. It’s exhausting to deviate from law enforcement for a woman who doesn’t care about her own family.

She gets to devise grand schemes and say mean words to him. She doesn’t bother with her own daughter. She doesn’t lift a finger or pay for a thing with money she earned. Steve has to live in the shadows—and he’s tired of it.

The almost 50-year-old man follows his usual trail back home. Sirens pass behind him, heading toward some emergency that he undoubtedly has nothing to do with. Not this time, at least.

He feels like a dog in the manger. Everyone can have Peggy (to a certain extent), but he can’t have anyone himself.

Fake cobwebs and pumpkins sit outside houses on each side of the road. It’s the spookiest night of the year, yet you have no plans. No parties to attend with some stupid little boyfriend who wouldn’t know how to fuck you the way he would.

When Steve unlocks the front door, he finds his wife’s heels strewn on the floor and his daughter watching cartoons in the living room. He kisses Sarah’s head and ensures she’s eaten the entirety of her breakfast. He tried his best with ghost-shaped pancakes, though they turned out more like blobs than anything. She doesn’t mind at all.

Sarah’s a brainiac, her new hobby being those kits that teach you how to hook wires into potatoes and other vegetables. Steve applauds her creations every time she shows them off, noting the little technological genius in her that he must’ve contributed to.

That is, if he’s her biological father.

The television screen plays her choice of cartoons, with a Halloween theme for the special day. He smiles when she laughs before heading upstairs.

Peggy has the largest room with the nicest furniture. She spends little time there unless she’s getting ready to go out or recovering from a hangover.

Steve knocks on her door. Despite there being no answer, he unlocks it and lets himself in. His wife is wide awake, eye makeup smudged a bit, but she’s wearing her signature jeans with a tank top.

She turns around and smiles at the sight of him. “What do you think?” she asks, gesturing to the costume she has laid out.

It’s a vampire—that’s as much as he gathers. The little voice in his head tells him how fitting it is—Peggy has sucked the life out of him for the last seven years.

“Perfect,” Steve tells her, giving her his most forced smile, and they both know she sees right through it.

“Good. And what are you going as?” she questions, turning her back to him. He genuinely contemplates this for a second.

For the last few years, he’s always worn a cheap cape and said he’s a superhero. But he’s tired of the same thing all the time.

“I’m not sure. I’ll come up with something, though. What time are you leaving?” Steve asks. “Oh, probably around six. Don’t wait up for me. You’ll take Sarah trick-or-treating, right?” Peggy smiles, unwilling to take ‘no” for an answer.

Steve says nothing and simply leaves. He takes his phone out of his pocket—sleek screen and a photo of you and Sarah as one of his wallpapers—and pulls up his conversation with you.

Hey, hon. Do you mind coming a bit earlier? 6:30 will do.

He doesn’t even have to wait for your reply.

Sure! Do you want me to stay the night, too? I don’t mind.

Always diligent. Always a sweetheart.

Please do. The door will be unlocked.

You give his message a thumbs-up, and he sighs.

Tonight will be the night. Tonight, he’ll finally get what he wants, and no one can stop him. Not even you.

You give the door a knock three times, even though you’re more than welcome to simply enter. It feels wrong, though. Too familiar, too casual.

Halloween is one of your favourite holidays. It’s a day full of excitement and creativity, and the month leading up to it is terrific. The turning leaves and the cold weather that lets you wear your coziest sweaters. The candy is the cherry on top of the entire delicacy.

You’ve never been on for extravagant costumes due to your procrastination. Tonight, you’re an angel. You don an all-white get-up; a lace dress, sheer tights, and matching shoes. You have a borrowed halo on your head and floppy wings on your back. It’s the best you can do for now.

Steve opens the door a few moments later, and he’s wearing a black suit. His hair is gelled, and he has a toothy grin—a change from his usual scowl. You smile at the sight of him.

“Happy Halloween!” you cheer, and he laughs. “Happy Halloween, sweetheart. What are you supposed to be? The devil?” he jokes. “Hardy-har-har. I’m an angel. But what are you? A CEO?” you ask, raking your eyes up and down his body.

The older man basks in your attention, his ears burning red.

“Actually, I’m a groom. Something different from the superhero thing, you know? It was the only thing I could come up with,” he sheepishly admits, and you wave his shyness away. “I love that! I never see anyone do something simple yet unique. But no decorations?”

You glance back at his front lawn and see nothing but withered flowers and yellow leaves from the neighbour’s over-arching tree. His porch simply has a bowl of candy with a threatening “TAKE ONE (1)” sign, assumingly written by Sarah.

“Nope. But there’s always next year!” he reassures. You giggle and nod your head. Your cheeks burn from smiling so much. Do you find him amusing? Or is it forced? Steve has numerous questions running through his mind, some exciting the butterflies in the attic that is his stomach, and some boiling his blood.

“C’mon in. No jacket? You must be freezing. You’re better than that, honey,” he chides like the father he is. He locks the door behind you—chain and all. “I didn’t think it’d be this cold,” you admit, removing your shoes. Steve takes them from you and places them on the rack where Peggy’s usual ankle boots would be.

You note the absence of her items and the lack of noise from the television. You don’t pay them much mind.

“Ah, rookie mistake. If you want, you can borrow a jacket from me,” he offers, picking up a stray black feather from the floor. You set your small backpack on the bottom step and follow his lead.

“So… What’s Sarah’s costume? She kept talking about being a minion, and then a cow, so I’m not too sure,” you laugh, and Steve does the same. “Peggy wanted her to be one of those Mario characters, but you know Sarah. Tonight, she’s Albert Einstein. Including the wig, of course.”

When you enter the clean living room, you expect to see her adorable face dressed as the notorious physicist. But she’s not there—and neither are the family photos.

“Um, sir, where is she?” you question, and he gestures to one of the sofas. You take a seat and wait for his return. He comes back with two drinks and hands you one of them. “Sarah is at her grandma’s. Peggy is at one of those parties she always goes to,” Steve coolly explains.

“Oh, are we going there? Or do you want me to stay back and give candy out?” You take a sip of your drink—a cherry limeade you once raved about to him. The sparkling water fizzles on your tongue. “No, she’ll be going trick-or-treating with her cousins.”

There’s a beat. A moment. And it lasts for a while.

“Uh, so what am I doing here?” you query. “Sweetheart. I’m a bit disappointed. You probably think that’s all I want you here for, don’t you? C’mon, you’re more than a babysitter to me.”

Steve places emphasis on his last word. “I’m sorry, Mr. Rogers, but I really don’t understand what you’re implying,” you profess, downing more of your drink out of sheer nervousness. Are you being fired? Are they moving? Did you do something wrong?

“Oh, honey, c’mere,” he says, even though he comes to you. He moves from his position across from you—standing tall in his full, towering height. Steve sits down next to you and places his large, warm hand on your cold left thigh. “Don’t be scared. M’not gonna hurt you. You’re not in trouble,” he says in a low tone.

When he’s this close to you, you can see the details of his face entirely. Whenever you’ve tried to admire him from afar, it’s like he knows when you’re looking.

“You’re so sweet… So pretty. I bet you’re nice and soft, too, hm? And you’ll be a good girl for me?” he asks, and you furrow your brows. You open your mouth to say something to him, but you’re quickly shut up with a searing kiss.

Steve presses his lips against yours, and it’s better than anything he could have ever imagined. The fantasies he’s had during those late nights or showers with his fist wrapped around his cock don’t even compare.

He takes charge, pushing his tongue inside your mouth and exploring within. His strong hands scoop you into his lap, one of them holding the back of your head. You lean back as Steve’s forwardness dominates you. You’re not sure what to do, so you place your palms on his shoulders and use a bit of force to try to push him away.

The married man doesn’t budge. It’s getting hard to breathe, and you feel like he’s sucked the air out of your lungs. You sink your teeth down lightly on what you think is his tongue, and he hisses as he pulls away.

“Sir– We can’t do this. It isn’t right. I– I mean, you’re my boss, and you have a wife—and poor Sarah, she doesn’t deserve this–”

“Fuck Peggy. Do you really think she cares? I don’t love her, never have. I only love you, darling. Now, what you just di–”

“Love me? Mr. Rogers, I think you’re mistaken. Maybe it’s just because we’re alone, or you and Peggy have been distant, but you don’t love me, Sir. I won’t mention this to anyone, I swear. And I’ll find another job if you’d like,” you breathlessly explain, shaking your head.

Steve shushes you with a snarl. “You’re not leaving me.” His voice is stern, and his tone says it all—there’s no arguing. “Please,” you try to get off the older man’s lap, but he holds onto you tightly. “We’re perfect for each other, honey. Don’t you see? Sarah loves you, and you love her. And look! I’m your groom, and you’re my angelic wife,” he exclaims, pulling the halo and ripping the wings off.

You gasp at his strength and audacity. You’d try to fight him, but you know you’d end up more hurt than anything. “Please don’t make this difficult,” he demands, adding your name. The mention makes you flinch, as he rarely says it.

“Look at those eyes… All blown out. I bet you’re soaking, aren't you?” Steve asks, but you don’t reply. His blue irises seem much darker in the dim lighting. His pupils are wide, and it’s like looking at a man who’s been possessed. “You’re probably making a mess of your panties, and we’ve barely even started. Does that always happen when you’re around me? Gosh, I bet you smell so sweet.”

His words make you whimper, and he smiles. “Oh, and look at those perfect tits,” he hums, groping them. Your nipples are stiff as peaks, and the rough touch from Steve has you shuddering. “Pl– Please,” you beg as he pulls at the nubs. The pain teeters on pleasure, and you squeeze your thighs to put an end to the thrumming at your core.

“‘Please,’ what, sweetie? Hm?”

“Please, Sir,” you whisper.

The title makes him groan. “Fuck, you don’t know how long I’ve been wanting you,” Steve expresses. You don’t want to know. “Ever since we met… D’you remember that floral dress you wore? That you kept pulling up? God, I wanted to take you right there…”

You remember that day all too well. Seeing Mr. Rogers in all his glory was riveting, and the slight crush you developed lives on. Now—you’re not sure. Your brain is a mess, and you can’t think straight.

Your boss lifts you up bridal style, and he doesn’t let this go unnoticed. “See? We were meant for each other, honey. And we don’t even need a wedding.”

He sets you down on the bed in the room on the main floor. You’ve stayed here from time to time when Peggy likes to come out at two in the morning, and Steve is beyond worried for her.

Was it all a farce? You remember those times and how he never called her or insisted on picking her up.

Steve’s hands pull at your cheap dress, and he rips it down the middle. You regret your choice of not wearing a bra, but either way, it would’ve done nothing.

He cups your breasts, and you moan at the touch. He latches his mouth onto one nipple as he plays with the other. His mouth is skilled—his tongue flicking and teeth slightly grazing the sensitive skin.

Mr. Rogers’ fingers are just as talented. They pinch, pull, and twist at your other peak simultaneously. He switches eventually, and you’re a puddle beneath the imposing man.

Your back is arched slightly, and you’re practically pushing your chest into his face, and he chuckles. “So desperate. You need me so badly, don’t you?” he says, nodding his head and smiling when you mimic him for a split second. “Atta girl—so good for me.”

Steve pulls back, and you whine. He soothes you and pulls his jacket off. You can see the ripples of muscle beneath the white collared shirt. He unbuckles his belt with swiftness. You gnaw on your bottom lip despite its swollenness.

Soon, he’s back on you. Your boss hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties, and he pulls them down your legs, admiring the strings of slick that break from the distance. He pushes the cloth into his pocket, and you clench when you think of the things he’ll do with it later on.

In your mind is a tiny voice that chides your every wrongdoing—how you haven’t fought back as much as you should. But there’s a louder one that was once lovesick over the married man before you, and it’s far more convincing.

Steve spreads your legs and curses at the sight of your sopping cunt. You involuntarily clench from the exposure. “You’ve got such a pretty pussy, baby,” he murmurs, leaning over you. One arm keeps him up, and the other bends your knees, giving him better access.

His fingers slide against your folds, collecting wetness as he caresses your lips. You let out a pleasured sigh, secretly wishing he would stop tormenting you and just get it over with. “So sensitive, too. I bet you’ll make such a mess on my cock.”

You never knew Steve could have such a filthy mouth—and God, do his words have your head spinning.

He quickly finds your swollen, throbbing clit and lightly touches it. The sensations on your little pearl are mild, but they’re enough to have you writhing beneath Steve. He draws light circles with the tips of his fingers. Your mouths brush against each other, and he teases you until you’re whispering pleas against his lips.

“Shh… It’s okay, love,” he reassures. Once he knows he has you worked up enough, Steve pushes the first digit into your pussy. The intrusion has you gasping, which turns into a whimper when he shoves another in. “Lookatcha, honey. You’re takin’ my fingers like a champ. This cunt is so tight, though. I’m really gonna have to stretch ya to fit my cock in there.”

The idea of his large cock barely fitting inside you makes your muscles involuntarily constrict against Steve’s fingers.

It takes a moment for you to adjust to the intrusion, though your walls welcome him like a familiar friend. His fingers are longer and thicker than yours, and with ease, he reaches that sweet spot most boys your age miss.

Eventually, Steve begins to fuck you on his hand. His digits slide in and out of you with ease as he picks up the pace. The skin glistens from your slick, and it’s a sight to behold. He creates a scissor motion with his two fingers every now and then, stretching you out while having you at his mercy.

It doesn’t take long for your moans to get louder while your face forms a frown of pleasure. The squelching sound of your cunt and that build-up just above your core are tell-tale signs that you’re about to come. “Oh, sir…!” you wail, and Steve picks up the pace.

“I can feel that cunt clenching on me, honey. God, you’re so beautiful this way. C’mon, make a mess on my hand. Come for me,” he rasps, rubbing his cheek against yours.

Your eyes squeeze shut when you come undone on Mr. Rogers’ hand. Your aching hole squeezes his fingers, and he makes you ride your orgasm out. Your back arches, and you let out a loud moan as pleasure shocks every nerve in your body. The lewd sounds of your cunt are noisy.

You find yourself immediately wanting more, even though you shouldn’t.

“Good girl—such a good girl for me,” Steve coos before slowly sliding his fingers out your channel. Your inner walls already miss the presence of his digits. You struggle to catch your breath, but in the midst of it all, you hear your boss pull the zipper to his pants down.

“I can’t wait to get inside of you, sweetie. I need you so badly it hurts,” he says while pressing kisses against the side of your neck. Steve climbs on top of you as he frees his aching cock from the confines of his boxers.

He grips himself by the base, his entire hand wrapped around his hardness. He gives himself a few strokes as pre-cum leaks from his slit, sliding down his bulbous head. His size is marvellous, a raging purplish-red with a thick base. Steve slaps the tip of his cock against your clit, and you flinch from the unexpected jolt of pleasure. “Fuck…” he curses.

“Are you looking, sweetie? This is such a special moment for us—I hope you remember it well,” he hums in your ear, and out of your natural obedient instinct, you lift your head to where you two are about to be connected. The sight of Steve’s cock makes you whimper. “Shit, what a good little slut.”

He drags the head of his dick through your dripping folds, and then he pushes in. The sudden stretch causes your skull to fall back against the bed. You try to close your legs, but Steve’s presence makes that impossible. He refuses to let you hide what’s his.

The older man completely sheathes himself inside your pussy. The squelching sound has you cringing in shame, but that quickly disappears when the feeling of fullness takes over. Steve’s balls touch your ass when he bottoms out, and your breathing is rapid from the sensuality of it all.

A hand wraps around your throat—though gentle, it scares you at first. Your eyes meet with Mr. Rogers’, and he looks at you with what appears to be adoration.

“You feel just like heaven,” he simply tells you. “I’m never letting you go after this—never was plannin’ on it, anyway.”

Before you can even process his words, Steve starts to fuck you. His pace is slow at first, and he hits your sweet spot with ease—a feat most boys your age are incapable of. Your moans are wanton and loud, teetering on the verge of pathetic for someone who was fighting against him at first.

“Oh, fuck,” you whimper, and your reaction makes Steve smile. “You love this, don’t you? Yeah, always knew you needed a real man to fuck this cunt.”

His thrusts are a bit quicker now, and he pulls in and out of your wet pussy roughly. The sound of skin on skin is thunderous, nearly covering up the wet noises from your stickiness. His thick cock shines from your juices. Steve ruts into you like a starved man—because he is one.

His pelvic bone hits your clit every now and then, and his swollen, heavy balls are against the curve of your ass. He’s relentless in claiming you as his, sucking, biting, and licking at the skin on your neck.

“Oh my God—Steve–” you mewl, the pleasure blooming inside you almost too much to handle.

“What’s wrong, honey? Are you gonna come again?” Steve questions with faux pity. He punctuates each word with a thrust, fat cock pushing into your tightness. “What a pathetic little slut, making such a big mess on her boss’ cock. And I’m married too. You just can’t help it, can you?” he teases, and his filthy words have you squeezing his length from the filthiness. He lets a groan out from the feeling, and he keeps the fervour going.

That elastic band inside your stomach begins to tighten, and you can feel another orgasm build up quickly. “Go ahead. Make a mess on Daddy’s dick, baby,” he urges, and as if on command, you cream around his thickness.

Your back arches off the bed, but you don’t go anywhere far with Steve’s chest keeping you pressed down. Your hardened nipples rub against the cloth of his shirt, and the added friction makes your climax all the more breathtaking. The older man pounds into your cunt vigorously.

Stars appear in your vision until you come back down. Mr. Rogers doesn’t stop fucking you, forcing you to endure the overstimulation. Even with your legs shaking, he refuses to give up. “Good girl—such a good whore for Daddy,” he praises. The tip of his cock pummels against your G-spot continuously.

Your tits bounce with each push of Steve’s cock. Sometimes, he grazes your cervix, but the mild pain dulls away when he presses chaste kisses to your face and brutalizes your g-spot. “‘S too much,” you mumble, legs involuntarily trying to close. “Nu-uh—It’s enough when I say it’s enough. Don’t worry, Daddy’s gonna fill up that pretty pussy real soon,” he says, and as if on cue, there’s a change in the way he pounds into your cunt.

His thrusts become more sloppy, but they keep the same passion and desperation that he started everything with. There’s an intensity you can’t describe because it just feels so fucking good. The hand on your neck moves and begins to caress the rest of your body. Your pulsating walls hug him, practically refusing to let go. Your skin is hot and sticky, just like his—if not more.

Wandering hands grope your body, going pliant underneath Steve. Guttural groans leave Steve’s mouth while you’re gasping endlessly. “Shit—you were made for taking this dick, sweetie. I’m gonna fill you up until you’re leaking down your thighs,” he promises, and the threat of it sounds terrific to your fucked-out mind.

“Be a good girl and soak Daddy’s cock one more time,” he orders. The blur between your previous climax and the one that takes you over now has your head spinning. You grasp the bedsheets from the overwhelming pleasure. A silent scream leaves your mouth, which Steve accompanies with a grunt followed by a string of curse words. “Fuck.”

You squeeze Steve’s length tightly, soaking him in your wetness. Electric shocks run down your spine and unto every nerve in your body. You feel like you’re floating for a split second. You’ve never come that hard—ever. It’s difficult to breathe, and Mr. Rogers is mean enough to make you take the euphoria he’s doling out.

Wetness stains the skin that surrounds where you two are filthily connected. Your ass is sticky, and some of your cream stains the trimmed hair at the base of Steve’s shaft. It’s a mess—one he intends on adding to with his semen.

His cock twitches inside your pussy, and with a final shove, he stills with his pelvis pressed against your clit. Steve’s balls clench, and he shudders as he reaches his own high. Ropes of cum spurt from the fat tip of the older man’s cock, painting your insides. The feeling makes you whimper as you’re filled to the brim with his seed.

For a few moments, Steve stays in that position, catching his breath while he recovers from his orgasm. Your eyes dance along his face, taking in the pinched yet relaxed look he dons.

Eventually, your boss resurfaces from the depths of his climax. You’re more than exhausted and have half a mind to fall asleep right then and there.

But the sound of the front door opening and closing shocks you from your stupor. Worry is written all over your features when Steve looks at you. “Aw, don’t worry, honey,” he hums, and though it may seem impossible, you can feel him get harder inside your pussy,

Whether it’s your evident fright or the thrill of getting caught, you’re not sure. Both make you dizzy.

Peggy’s notable accent slurs a call for Steve. “Think we should put on a show for her?” he jokes, grinding his cock further into your pussy.

You’re sure that no matter what you say, he won’t listen. And what will follow will be a nightmare you can’t escape.

But those thoughts ebb away when you hear your other boss curse a storm and abruptly leave, even though she hasn’t walked in on the pornographic scene that’s taking place in the guest room.

“Well, there’s always next time—if she’ll even make it,” Steve grumbles under his breath, but the words are too vague for you to dwell on them. “Think you’re up for round two, love? I wanna play with those tits while you ride my cock.”

For the nth time, your body betrays you and tells him your true desires. Either way, he still would’ve gotten what he wanted. Steve Rogers always gets what he wants.

[myfictionaldreams]

Day 16: DP in 1 hole - Mafia!Stucky

Summary: You were adamant about proving Steve wrong and doing something you’ve never done before.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, threesome (f/m/m), double penetration in one hole, size kink, dom/sub, sir kink, masturbation, dacryphilia, multiple orgasms, overstimulated, teasing, kinda mean!steve, discussion of safe words, praise kink, creampie

masterlist 📚 

kinktober masterlist😈 

AO3 Link 

“Just…Just do it; I can’t take it, I promise. Please, sir!” Each word you sobbed seemed to stumble into the next as you begged so quickly, wiping your tear-stained face on the muscled shoulder. The man beneath ran his fingers over your scalp to try and calm you, ignoring the fact that his cock was still pressed so deep inside of your cunt that he was knocking into your cervix with each breath, let alone thrust. Bucky was holding you tightly from where you lay draped over his muscular body, both of your chests rubbing against one another, and from this position, it meant that the Brunette gang member could look over your shoulder to the other man on the bed.

“Oh baby girl, you sound so pretty when you’re begging like that”, Steve mocked with an air of arrogance, loving that your reactions were becoming more pathetic. One of his big hands was wrapped around his cock, pleasuring himself as he squeezed your arse cheek with the other. He had the perfect view from where he knelt in the centre of the bed, with Bucky and you led out in front of him; even though your back was facing him, he could see where your face was turned to the side, see the tear tracks down your cheek.

He couldn’t blame you for having this reaction; this had been going on for hours, and you’d been so good for him, but sometimes he and Bucky wanted to play, push you to your limits. In doing so, you became increasingly more pathetic and submissive, whimpering and needy for more until either Steve or Bucky enough was enough.

“You’ve done so well for us, Doll”, Bucky praised with a smirk as he kissed the back of your head, which, in turn, earned an eye roll from Steve as he knew his best friend was just trying to give you all the compliments so you’d cling to him more. “How many times has she orgasmed for us now, Stevie? 5? 6?”

Steve couldn’t help himself as he spanked your arse cheek, watching the jiggle of the muscle and the way you initially cried and jolted at the action but then moaned and perked your arse up to receive another one. Bucky also groaned at the impact as your walls had clamped down around his cock so tight that he almost came. Steve chuckled under his breath at the glare from Bucky, who had been trying to edge himself for the last half an hour and knowing what Steve was like, he wanted to see just how good his will strength was.

“She’s came so many times that she’s made a mess over the bed, haven’t you, Baby? And yet, you still want more? I don’t think you can handle any more, especially both of us”. Steve licked his bottom lip as he eyed your pretty hole, even wondering himself if this was even possible; yes, he’d seen it on porn, but two cocks in one hole? “We’re so big anyway, Honey; there’s no way you’ll be able to take both me and Bucky.” Steve taunts and earns even more of a desperate cry, more tears streaking down your cheeks.

“Pl-Please, Sir! Just try; I can take you both; I know I can”. To try and prove some kind of a point that you were not done with the fucking, you pushed yourself up slightly on Bucky’s chest and began to ride his cock. However, you were exhausted, and your cunt was puffy and sensitive, so it was more of a gentle roll than a harsh ride.

“That’s it, feel so good on top of me, Sweetheart”, Bucky groans, both hands on your hips to try and guide you slightly, completely forgetting about the double penetration idea for the moment all thoughts turned to the steadily moving wet warmth that moved around his shaft.

Steve’s arm wrapped around your chest from behind so that his hand secured around your jaw, pulling you flush against him; his mouth dipped to the shell of your ear, teasing with his teeth and causing a gasp to escape your lips. “If it hurts, what are you going to do?” he asks, his voice full of authority that was usually just saved for when he was at work.

“I’ll say my safe word”, you immediately answer, clarity clearing in your mind as your movements slowed, knowing that this discussion was necessary.

“Good girl. Now if my cock doesn’t fit next to Bucky’s, you’ll continue to be good, aren’t you, and not complain. We’ll just continue playing like we have been, do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir, I understand”, you say without any sort of whimper or stutter noted as your eyes finally blinked open. Bucky smiled warmly up at you, which caused your hole to clench at just how handsome he was, but before he could react, Steve was releasing his hold on your face and pressing against your shoulders until you were lying flat against Bucky again.

You stopped rolling your hips and waited patiently for the next steps, which were Steve’s fingers. He didn’t need to use lube just yet as the blonde leader gathered some of your fluid from where you and Bucky were connected onto his index and middle finger. Ever so gently, he ran his fingers around the rim of your hole, near your perineum, as this was the area presented to him and where he was hoping to slip his cock into eventually.

With Bucky still inside, Steve ended up teasing him and stroking the two of you. Adding extra pressure, Steve slipped his fingers into your hole, following Bucky’s length until he reached the first knuckle. You were snug around his fingers as he managed to push in a couple of centimetres further until nearly to the second knuckle.

Steve pressed his hand on your lower back as he observed you taking a deep breath to keep all the muscles between your legs relaxed, which made it easier for the man to continue to stretch you.

“That’s amazing, Baby, you’re taking my fingers so well. Look at that! Taking two of my fingers and Bucky’s cock, aren’t you our special girl”. Steve’s praises helped to keep you relaxed as you smiled and warmed at the words he was saying like he was stroking the happy part of your mind.

Bucky bit his lip at the sensation, which was difficult to explain. As Steve stretched your hole, it made everything feel tighter, and just as he pushed deeper, he also had the stimulation of Steve touching the sensitive part of the underside of his cock.

“Just going to stretch you a little bit first, then I’ll add another finger”, Steve explained as his eyes trained between your face and pussy. He moved both of his fingers in semi-circles, trying to see how far your walls were willing to stretch.

Holding back a groan, he could feel how much you were trying not to clench and knew if they did succeed with this, he would lose his mind. He just hoped he didn’t cum as soon as he penetrated, which was a similar thought that Bucky had.

Scissoring his fingers around Bucky’s cock, Steve shifted closer so that a third finger could be added alongside the other two. You desperately moaned in Bucky’s chest, fingers digging into his shoulders, leaving nail crevices in his one fleshed shoulder.

Steve remained still for a few seconds, allowing you to adjust before moving in and out slowly. “Fuck Steve!” It wasn’t you who moaned but Bucky who had closed his eyes to try and concentrate on not cuming before the action had even begun. It felt so good to have his cock inside your puffy tight hole, but then to have fingers as well stroking along his shaft was unlike anything he’d experienced before.

Looking over your shoulder, you took a deep breath and tried to sound as confident as possible, the tears having now stopped as you remained calm. “Please, Steve, I can take it, just try”.

Steve ignored your pleas to hurry up and continued to stretch your pussy, twisting and spreading his fingers to give his cock extra space. Even though he was three fingers deep, he and Bucky were not exactly small in the cock division. This was why this fucking session had been going on for so long because they spent so much precious time making sure you were adequately stretched to take one of their cocks, let alone two at the same time.

There had been plenty of times where one of them had been fucking your cunt and the other in your arse but nothing to the extent of two cocks in one hole.

You sighed as Steve finally pulled his fingers out and reached for the lube, coating his cock thoroughly before wiping a generous blob onto your pussy. Moving his entire body closer, Steve began to prepare for the insertion.

“Remember: Safeword”, Steve said loudly enough that you glanced over your shoulder and nodded. “Take a deep breath for me, Baby”.

You did as instructed, filling your lungs to the brim with oxygen before slowly breathing out of your mouth, which is when you felt considerable pressure between your legs.

As Steve was so thoroughly lubed, his cock nearly slid in the wrong direction, so he had to push the tip of his cock hard against Bucky’s shaft and then knock his hips with a deep thrust. At first, he wasn’t sure he would get it into your pussy with how much resistance he was met with, but then it nudged beneath the rim and was welcomed into the dangerously tight warmth of your cunt.

You had expected it to hurt in some way, but to your happy surprise, all it initially felt like was the deep burn that came with stretching your cunt for a cock, just with increased intensity. It was an odd sensation to experience, like you were going to break at the first stretch, but as your body relaxed and more of his cock pushed in, everything was just thigh highest level of pleasure imaginable.

The screaming moan you released echoed around the bedroom as Steve’s cock penetrated until he, too, was caressing your cervix with the mushroom tip of his dick.

Bucky's hands were massaging over your arse, hips and back as he tried to keep himself under control. Having Steve’s cock moving against his but pressing hard with the limited room, the difference in textures between your gummy walls and the solidness of the shaft. The tightness was another experience, almost like a pretty vice trapping his cock to perfection.

“Holy shit, Baby! That’s it; stay nice and relaxed for us. I'm just going to let you get adjusted for a moment.” Seeing his and Bucky’s lengths fitting into one hole, Steve was mesmerised. He even contemplated reaching for his phone and taking a picture to show you the wondrous thing your body could achieve.

With your cunt stretched so far, Steve and Bucky were adamant that they could feel your pulse fluttering through your walls. Not only this, but you’d squirted over Bucky from just the stretch.

You knew that you were too squished between them both to take over right now and ride their cocks and also the exercise that your body was going through; you weren’t sure you even had the energy to push off of Bucky’s chest to find a good position.

Thankfully, Steve was more than prepared to fuck for the three of you. His two meaty hands joined Bucky’s over your hips as he ever so carefully began to rock his hips in the smallest of motions so that only an inch of his cock was moving in and out of your cunt.

As more of his length edged out before being pushed in, your entire body seemed to just give up with the tension running through it with the anticipation of the double penetration. Your limbs went slack, as well as your jaw, as your mouth opened in a perfect circle to allow the animalistic grunts and moans just to seep out.

“You sound so good when you moan like that”, Bucky gasped as he tried to fuck up with Steve, causing your body to jolt with the movements.

Soon, they were both fucking your pussy, Bucky, at a slow pace that allowed his cock to brush over all of the hyper-sensitive nerves of your g-spot and with the pressure of Steve’s cock pushing on him, you could feel every since ridge of Bucky. Steve, on the other hand, was able to fuck you with a bit more intensity, sweat beginning to drip down his temple, but he couldn’t give a shit about that right now, not when his girl was taking him so well. 

“I’m so proud of you, taking both of us so well; you feel so fucking good”. Steve’s voice sounded almost as desperate as your begging did earlier as his eyebrows knitted together with the pleasure taking over his body.

Bucky was watching Steve, feeling his length fucking against his, the tightness of your pussy, the moans you were all sharing; he knew his orgasm was impending. Steve could see this from how Bucky’s hands slackened, and the grunts stopped as he tried to concentrate on not orgasming.

To be truthful, Steve was also near his orgasm, and you’d been in a constant state of cumming since both cocks had slipped inside, the coil in your abdomen tight and fluttering with involuntary contractions around their cocks. Releasing the hold on your hip, Steve reached over to grab Bucky's jaw, forcing him to look up at his boyfriend and boss.

“Cum for me, Bucky, I know you want to. Let’s fill our girl up together, yeah? Make her drip with our cum, that’s it, fucking cum for me, Bucky”.

Steve tightened his hold on Bucky’s face and slammed into you with an increased pace that your eyes rolled back just in time for Bucky to cum, hard.

“Fuck! Holy-Shit-” Bucky cried out, his body withering beneath you like he wanted to arch his back but couldn’t be with you on top. You could feel the wetness and warmth of his seed as he spilt deep inside you.

“Good boy, look so pretty when you cum. Don’t you think so, Baby?” Steve asked you, but you weren’t paying attention, not when you were deeply lost in pleasure. Steve’s pace increased further as he fucked his way to orgasm a few seconds later. More cum filled your pussy, mixing with Bucky’s as it began to drip out of you. Steve’s head tilted back as he thrust through the orgasm until the shivers ceased, and he could take a minute to catch his breath.

Sitting back on his heels, Steve’s cock slipped out of your cunt first, swiftly followed by Bucky’s, meaning the blonde had the perfect view of your pulsing, gaping hole as it leaked with their seed, dripping out onto the sheets below.

Despite being half asleep due to exhaustion, you managed to whisper, “See, I told you I could do it”.

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Mission — Heat | Steve Rogers

// Pairing // Alpha!Steve Rogers x Omega!Female!Reader

// Summary // Your best friend and you are on a mission but when he finds out about your heat he doesn’t let you do the mission — but one night in one bed is still enough to confess the real feelings.

// Wordcount // 6.714 Words

// Warnings // Explicit Content // 18+, Minors DNI, best friends to lovers, alpha/beta/omega, Alpha!Steve, Omega!Reader, Heat, true mates, smut, fingering (fem!receiving), teasing, lots of kisses, masturbation (male!receiving), unprotected p in v, multiple orgasm, squirting, little bit of degradation and begging, dirty talk, praises, fluff

// Request // Hi sweetie and happy 2K, you deserve them!! So I noticed you're doing that fun activist with prompts. I was thinking maybe: true mates who are childhood best friends? (A/B/O) It could be Steve Rogers ( I just imagine him a lot like an alpha😭) ? smut and a bit of fluff? Maybe they were supposed to go in a mission but she's starting her heat ( I think it's written like this?) so she stays behind and he offers to stay with her? they end up sleeping together and him taking care of her? ❤️ Sending you so much love!! @rogersbarber

// Authors Note // Hey, thank you for the request and for the nice words. It wasn’t supposed to be such a long oneshot but it turned out longer than expected. Hope you like it. Biggest thank you goes to my girl @bucks-babe for proofreading for me. You’re amazing and make my work so much better.

// Events // MCU Kink Bingo | O1 | Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics: true mates | @mcukinkbingo || Fandom-Free Bingo: Pride Edition | Row Three-Two | Friends to lovers | @fandom-free-bingo || FluffySteveFest | July 1: Affection | Kisses, Aftercare | @fluffystevefest

// Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist | 2000 Follower Celebration //

Being on a mission with your best friend was always your favorite kind of mission so you thought it would be like that this time too. Even though you got your heat just before you were getting ready for the mission — but your best friend knows it, he is used to it.

Steve Rogers, unmated Alpha and your best friend since childhood, the two of you grew up together, he always defended you in school, in front of other Alphas and he still does it when he notices that you don’t do it for yourself.

Even though he defends you sometimes still, he loves your attitude, your confidence and with every year the two of you grew older, things changed between the two of you — inside of him. He wouldn’t tell you, at least not yet. Steve loves the friendship the two of you have and he doesn't want to ruin it with his alpha instincts during your heats.

So little does he know that you went on the mission with him while getting into your heat. You smelled different but he was too focused on studying the file to care about your changing scent, maybe it was just another perfume you use?

“Have you read them? Sounds like they are in the hall and we ha—“ Steve says, sitting in a chair opposite you. The room has next to two chairs and a small table also a double bed — you already tested with a jump on it.

You’re currently in a hotel, waiting for the time you have the ‘meeting’ with the weapon dealer. Steve’s arms resting on his thick thighs and you looked at him up and down, while he was focused on the file. But now his blue eyes are piercing into yours, he tilts his head to the side and clears his throat.

“What are you doing there?” He asks, looking at your small construction on the bed. His shirts are placed around you on the mattress, you’re sitting with your back against the headboard and you’re focused on replacing a few of his shirts to make it more comfortable, while you listen to your best friend.

“N—Nothing, just wanted to see what you brought with you,” you say, smiling softly. Steve nods, not really believing what you try to convince him of.

“And you’re doing this by placing all my shirts around you?” His voice is soft but you can still hear a more dominant tone. You whimper quietly, trying to push all your thoughts away, you can’t let the omega inside of you get the control just yet. Not on a mission, not when you’re supposed to sleep in a bed with Steve.

“Yes? That’s a problem?” You ask, trying to sound as sweet as you can. Steve inhales deeply, and then it clicks in his mind, your scent isn’t different because of another perfume — oke at least not only because of that — it’s because you’re in heat and don’t want him to know it.

“Omega,” he growls, earring a whimper from you, knowing that he is right. “Fuck— why didn’t you tell me? Even using another perfume so I won’t smell it immediately? You can’t come on a mission with me, when— Oh fuck!”

“Language, Steve! Don’t use those words and I can! See, I'm here with you, on a mission,” you say, trying to play cool, while he gets up from the chair and paces through the room. Steve runs his hands through his hair, he loves you, he cares about you and that’s why you shouldn’t go on a mission during your heat — and especially not be in the same room — the same bed as the Alpha.

“I’m sorry, princess. But we will call Tony and get you home and I will do the mission alone or with another agent,” Steve says, frustration grows inside of him when he realizes that it’s evening and that you will have to stay the night in the same bed he does. “Or we let Sam and Bucky do that.”

“Stevie, I can do the mission with you, don’t make a big deal out of it please. It’s just my heat, oke?” You try, earning a glare that causes you to flinch and shut your mouth immediately.

“Not a big deal, huh? Do you know that most of the people we are going to meet there are Alphas? They will smell you, and when we do a mistake they will fucking get you and who knows what they are going to do then. With you — sweet Omega, they deal with weapons. Do you think they don’t have their omegas on a leash like a little pet?”

You sigh, maybe Steve is wrong but you two are a good team so they won’t get you and have you as their own personal toy, will they?

“Gonna call Tony now,” he huffs, reaching for his phone before he taps on it a few times before Tony picks up the call. You don’t really listen to the conversation, too frustrated that Steve doesn’t want to do the mission with you.

You grasp one after the other shirts of his, throwing it away. When you can’t go on a mission to him, you don’t want to be close to him. And as much as you crave your little nest with his shirts, you’re too mad to care about you. Luckily, your heat just started so you don’t have too bad cramps and when you get some you can still help yourself, you don’t need Steve or his stupid shirts — really good smelling shirts.

“What are you doing there, princess? First you build your nest with my shirts and now you throw them away, can you at least put them back into the bag?” Steve asks after hanging up and looking at you.

It only needs one look at you and he knows that you’re frustrated, that you’re going to be bratty because you’re always like that when Steve denies you. Sometimes you hate him, he is your best friend and you love him but those moments let you think if it could be a love-hate thing or something. Even though you know he is your true mate but since you’re both best friends you never wanted to risk your friendship for that, especially not because you never felt like you need a relationship just yet.

“Pick them up, ‘mega,” he growls, walking closer to the bed where you’re still sitting. You shake your head, pulling your legs against your chest and causing him to sigh. “That’s childish, you threw my clothes on the ground, now pick them up and bit them back into my bag.”

“Make me, Alpha,” you smirk when his eyes darken. Steve being feral is something you like to see, especially when his Alpha is more present, you have never seen his real Alpha side but the bits he lets slip are something you could get used to.

“Not gonna repeat myself. You’re playing with fire. Coming here in your heat, wanting to sleep in a bed with me—“

“You can sleep on the floor if you prefer that,” you shrug. Steve’s suddenly really close to you, his hand snapping forward and grasping your chin harshly. He tilts your head back, causing you to whine slightly.

“I wasn’t finished. You come here with me for the mission, you are going to sleep in a bed with me — wouldn’t I be used to it by now I would have fucked you into the mattress already and claimed you,” he groans, the thought making his dick twitch in his tight pants and he feels his boxer briefs soaking by his pre-cum.

“Calm down, you called Tony so it’s fine now? But I wouldn’t mind you claiming me, could try it, see if I would be such a sweet little omega and lie there for you,” you say, giggling softly while Steve’s features harden and his jaw clenches.

He doesn’t say anything, just letting go of your jaw and inhaling deeply. Steve turns away from you, making his way to the room into the bathroom. When the door closes a small pout forms on your lips, you never thought being close to someone would affect you like that but your best friend's short touch felt just so good. His warmth and the soft tingle he causes on your skin, you’re craving more but maybe it’s just because of your heat and nothing more.

For a moment you think about sneaking out of the room, getting some food or just for a walk. Or maybe you check out the location for the deal the next day and you will get up early to be there and help Sam and Bucky?

You decide against it, knowing that a whole lot of Alphas would smell you and no matter how confident you are, you don’t want one of them to jump on you. So you’re leaning back, your back resting against the headboard of the bed. You grasp your book, but since you destroyed your nest you feel uncomfortable.

Meanwhile Steve couldn’t stand it any longer, he needed to get out of the situation otherwise he didn’t know if he could have controlled himself any longer to not just ruin you for every other Alpha.

Your smell is so intoxicating, surrounding him like air. He had seen you in your heat so often but something changed, inside of him and between the two of you.

The warm water runs down his body, relaxing his tensed muscles but his cock is still rock-hard and there is only his hand as solution. Steve brings one of his hands to his shaft, immediately groaning quietly when he wraps his fingers around his thickness.

How would it feel if those fingers would be yours? Would your small hand actually fit around his length?

For a moment he tries to bring his thoughts to one of the porns he is watching when he jerks off but his mind doesn’t want to do it like Steve wants and he always has the picture of you in front of his eyes.

Steve slowly moves his hand up and down his shaft, the tip is red and leaking. He runs his thumb over the slit, groaning about the sensation. His hips jerk forward, meeting the movements of his hand. Steve throws his head back, fucking his fist hard and fast while he tries to muffle his groans as much as possible while biting his lip.

He wants — he needs to feel your fingers around his shaft. Or your mouth, your pussy. So warm and tight and all wet for him. Steve knows that he would stretch you like no one did before because you haven’t had many Alphas yet and Steve’s cock is thick and long.

Steve’s eyes immediately open and widen when he hears a soft knock at the door. He lets go of his cock before he mumbles a soft “come in”. You have seen him under the shower often, so it’s nothing new but he never had a hard on or at least just jerked off while thinking about you.

You open the door, walking into the room. You’re not looking at him, you don’t want him to feel uncomfortable, but you just don’t feel like being alone right now. Since you’re kids you’re used to sit in the bathroom with one another — when you were kids you also had a bath together — and just talk or be in silence.

“What’s up, princess?” Steve asks, turning around when you take a seat on the floor. You sigh softly, playing with your fingers in your lap, while Steve starts to wash himself.

“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have come to the mission with you during my heat but I thought it wouldn’t be that bad, you know? And I’m sorry for throwing your clothes away, I just got mad when you said that,” you admit, looking around while you listen to the water of the shower.

“It’s oke, princess. I don’t blame you, but I don’t want you to be in danger and you know it’s easier to smell you when you’re in heat. Just don’t want you to get hurt,” Steve says, rubbing the shampoo into his hair before he continues to clean his body while he talks to you, making you laugh over and over again.

After the shower Steve asked you to look for some movies while he gets dressed, he used the moment to give his hard cock some relief. You immediately agreed and made your way back into the bedroom. Then you looked for a movie and built your nest with his shirts again.

Steve got a few snacks and drinks for the two of you and now you’re cuddled up into his side, his hand caressing your back softly while you watch the movie. It’s almost finished and you can’t wait to get some sleep, the cramps in your stomach getting worse but you try to ignore that and hide it from Steve.

Your best friend feels your tensing, his hand snaking around your waist to your lower stomach and he draws small circles on it, cashing you to sigh softly. The cramps aren’t completely gone but it’s definitely feeling really good when Steve caresses your skin as softly as he does right now.

When the movie ends you’re settling properly in bed, your back turned toward Steve and your knees close to your chest to try to get rid of the cramps. Steve feels your tension and he would love to help you but he won’t pressure you so he just tried to get some sleep himself.

After a few hours where you just tossed and turned around, Steve is still awake, knowing that you’re asleep. Your whimpers are louder as before and your scent is surrounding him, his mind goes dizzy and he can’t focus on anything else than you.

As hard as he tries to push the alpha inside of him to the side he can’t stop it anymore, needs you — needs to comfort you and needs to be inside you to give himself some relief too.

He slowly rolls to the side, you’re curled up into a little ball next to him, whimpering and tears fall down your cheeks but you’re still asleep. Steve reaches his hand out to slide over your arm, causing you to shiver lightly, his fingers brush over the soft skin of your arm to your shoulder. He puts some pressure on you, causing you to turn on your back while he guides his fingers over your breast.

A needy whine leaves your lips and you wake up slowly, noticing the soft touches. Steve smirks when you open your eyes and look at him with your sleepy expression. You look just so adorable and he can’t get his eyes off of you.

“W—What are you doing, Stevie?” You ask, his touch is still soft but intimate already. It’s not like it bothers you but you wonder what happens because he had himself always under control.

A low groan leaves his lips and his eyes are almost completely dark while he stares at you. His tongue poking out, wetting his lips. “Need to comfort you, ‘mega. Fucking need you, ‘m so hard for you and it will help you with your cramps, omega.”

His voice is rough and you shiver when you nod slightly. Steve’s fingers wrap around your breast, squeezing the soft flesh through your shirt before he pinches your nipple slightly. He causes moans to escape your mouth, groaning when he does that, his cock twitching in his pants and he can’t wait to bury his cock in his home — your tight, wet pussy.

Steve’s hand slides lower, over your stomach to the waistband of your panties. He doesn’t have much control anymore, he just needs you so bad. While his hand snakes over your body he sits up to get in between your legs.

“Spread those pretty legs for me, princess,” he mumbles, his big hand now caressing the soft skin of your inner thigh while he pushes them softly apart. He then gets in between them, his thick thighs touching yours and you can feel his tensed muscles, his soft curly hair on his thighs against your skin.

Your best friend towers over you, his veiny hands on your thighs while you look at him. Your eyes roaming over his body, from his handsome face over his broad chest to his highly defined abs before you reach the big bulge underneath his boxer briefs.

“Look so pretty, and you smell so good. Can’t sleep with your soft whimpers and this fucking scent of yours all around me,” the Alpha groans, moving a bit until his chest is on top of yours hand he thrusts his hips forward.

You can feel his hard dick and fat balls through the fabric, rubbing against your already wet pussy and causing you to moan louder.

“That’s what you need, don’t you, omega? Need a cock to fill you. Need my cock to fill you,” he says, voice low and you can’t help but shiver about the tone in his voice.

Steve used to talk to you with such a soft and sweet voice but right now there is nothing left of your sweet boyfriend, instead of him you have a big Alpha towering above you, ready to ruin you for every other man.

“Stevie, please,” you beg, not sure what you’re asking for — probably everything he is willing to give you. He grins at you, his one hand grasping your chin to make you look him deep into his beautiful eyes while he pushes his hips forward.

“What do you want, ‘mega?” He asks, knowing exactly what you need and want but he doesn't want to give it to you just yet. He wants you begging and whining for his cock.

“Need you, please. Alpha, need your cock, please, your knot, fill me with it,” you beg, blushing when those words leave your lips. You have never felt that vulnerable and embarrassed, never begged for an Alpha's cock — and never thought you would beg for your best friend's dick.

Steve smirks, letting go of you to lean back to finally take off his clothes. You follow his movements with your eyes when he gets up and stands next to the bed, leaving you all needy and desperate for him.

“S—“ you want to ask him why he doesn’t give you his cock even though you asked nicely but just when you want to ask, he grasps the waistband of his boxer briefs and pushes them down his legs.

Your mouth drops open when his hard cock springs free. His length is huge, a vein running along the underside of it, the tip read and leaking with pre-cum. His balls are just as huge as his cock and you wanna lick them, want him to stuff them into your mouth. Your pussy clenches at the sight, arousal flowing out of you, causing a wet spot in your panties.

“Stevie, it won’t fit, y—you’re soo big,” you say, pouting softly. He chuckles before he throws his shirt somewhere in the room to get on top of you again.

He plays with the hem of your shirt, pushing it slowly up to reveal your stomach, kissing and biting into your soft skin before he helps you out of it completely. A low groan slips past his lips when he admires your tits, his lips moving from your stomach to the swell of your left breast and he licks a strap over the soft flesh.

You arch your back, pussy pressing against his cock, while Steve sucks at your nipple, his teeth scratching softly over the skin while he twirls his tongue around it. He definitely knows what feels good, and you crave more of the pleasure and of him.

Steve’s hands move to your hips, pushing you down to stop you from grinding against him. You whine, trying to push against him but the alpha is way stronger than you and you end up wiggling underneath him until he raises his head and raises an eyebrow.

“Stop wiggling like a little slut, omega. Or I’m gonna treat you like one, so stay still and let me enjoy your sweetness before I’m going to ruin you,” he growls, bringing his lips back to your chest to continue sucking, biting and licking your soft skin.

Your best friend is already addicted to your soft chest, knowing that you’re going to ruin him for every other woman just as much as he is going to ruin you for every other man. Maybe he will ask you if he is allowed to claim you later or he will do it at another point, maybe making you beg for him to claim you. But he is at least sure that he is going to make you his, with your permission but he is sure you don’t want someone else when you can have your best friend as your Alpha. Just as much as he wants you to be your alpha, he wants to wear the mark of your bond on his skin as well, letting everyone know that he belongs to you.

“Steve, please. Need you so bad, don’t tease me, please,” you whine, pushing your chest up and press it against his face. He growls against you, sending vibrations through your body, while he pins your waist with his hands into the bed.

“Stop the whining or you won’t get my cock at all. Had to wait to get you so long, denying me all the time,” he says, biting into the swell of your breast to underline his words — his desperation.

He slowly moves his lips further down to your stomach, his fingers gliding to the waistband of your panties and he hooks them into it, tugging at it slightly before he lets it snap back against you.

Even though he doesn’t want you to whine and wiggle, he enjoys the soft whimpers and moans that escape your lips — needy and begging for him.

Steve wouldn’t have told you that his Alpha is craving you, he knew you wouldn’t like to ruin your friendship and he didn’t want to do it either. But now? Having you whining and whimpering next to him, during your heat. His anger that you didn’t tell him and tried to hide it from him combined with his Alpha instincts makes him go crazy and feral for you.

Your best friend sits up, sliding the thin frantic down to reveal your dripping pussy. He tried his best to remove your panties without destroying them but the smell of your arousal, your dripping pussy and your fucked out look already lets him forget about his actual plan.

You hear your panties being ripped into two pieces before he throws them somewhere into the room. You want to protest, telling him that they were one of your favorite pairs of panties but every thought disappears when the Alpha places one of his hands on your lower stomach, his thumb finding its way to your clit and he presses down against your sensitive spot.

“Good girl, such a sweet omega. Look at you, dripping for your Alpha,” he says, grinning at you when he moves his fingers lower, parting your soaked folds while he admires your glistening skin down there. “Yeah, so ready for me, look at you, all ready for my cock.”

You feel your cheeks heat up with his intense stare at your most intimate part. Steve brings his other hand to your wet entrance, pushing one of his digits against your tight hole before he circles his fingers around it. You’re moaning underneath his soft touches, trying to close your legs but his thick thighs hold them spread apart.

Steve’s cock is painfully hard, leaking down his shaft and he just wants to thrust into you but he wants to be at least a bit nice and prepare you first, will he? You’re dripping down your ass and onto the sheets already, so maybe he could just push inside of you and enjoy your walls gripping his cock?

“Princess?” He asks, waiting for you to nod your head. When you do, his expression softens and he removes his hands from your pussy and brings them back to your hips. “Do you want me to stretch you open on my fingers first or would you mind me just stretching you open on my cock? I will be careful, but I need you so bad, ‘mega.”

“Split me open with your cock, Alpha, please. Need your cock, Stevie,” you beg, feeling his thick tip against your pussy. Steve groans, he wasn’t prepared for you begging for his cock like that when he offers you to destroy your pussy.

“But you will tell me to stop when you can’t handle my cock. Just say red and I will stop. Yellow when you want me to slow down and green when I can continue, get it, omega?” He asks with his soft voice and you nod, this time it’s not enough of an answer for him and your best friend raises an eyebrow at you. You shiver lightly underneath him, his intense looks and his touches make your mind go dizzy and you can’t focus on anything but him and his cock.

“Y—Yes, Alpha,” you mumble, your fingers digging into the sheet and you buck your hips. Steve’s cock slides through your folds, causing both of you to moan.

With a soft smile he leans down, his lips touching yours for a soft kiss before he snakes one of his hands between your bodies to his cock. Steve looks deep into your eyes while he lines his cock up with your entrance. He pushes slowly into you, his red tip stretching you open and your jaw drops open when you feel how thick he really is.

“Color, omega?” Steve’s one hand is still holding your waist, pushing you into the mattress while he places his other next to you shoulder to hold himself up above you. His lips trailing all over your face, leaving soft kisses while he entered you inch by inch.

“Green! It’s so fucking green,” you moan, arching your back until Steve’s chest is pressed against yours.

He chuckles at you, actually he would tell you to not use that kind of words but your pussy is hugging his cock too well to think about something like that right now. Steve pushes forward until he is balls deep into you, stretching you out like no one else could.

You’re panting, hands gripping his back while you try to ground yourself. Steve doesn’t move, waiting for you to adjust before he’s going to ruin you completely. Your pussy is burning lightly, the stretch still the most pleasurable feeling you ever had and you want him to finally move, finally fuck you.

“St— Alpha, please. Move!” You whine, legs wrapping around his legs and you dig your feet into his thighs. But Steve doesn’t move, he smirks at your desperation, his cock seated perfectly warm and wet inside of your tightness while he feels your slick flowing down your ass and all over his balls.

“You’re so desperate, gimme a moment to enjoy the moment of your pussy before I’m gonna destroy it,” he growls, smirking at you before he presses his lips softly against yours. His tone is the complete opposite of his soft kisses and you whimper.

Steve’s cock is twitching inside of you, you’re sure that you can feel every vein of his length and it makes you want him more. Your best friend bites into your lower lip, causing you to whine before he pulls his cock out of you.

“You’re sure, omega?”

“Wasn’t ever more sure than that, Stevie!”

Those words are all he needs before he slams his cock into you. You almost scream about the sudden pain inside of you. His cock hitting your cervix and your eyes widen when you realize that he is really going to ruin your pussy with his huge cock. Steve thrusts his hips forward and backward, pushing into you with such force that you’re sure you’re going to hit the headboard of the bed when he wouldn’t hold you in place by your hips.

“S-Stevie, p-please,” you beg, not sure what you’re begging for because he fucks you so hard, that you can’t ask for more but you don’t want him to stop either.

Steve chuckles, his fingers brushing through your hair, his lips trailing along your jaw, while he speeds his thrusts up. His balls slapping against your ass, his cock hitting all the right spots inside of you, while you squeeze him tightly, sucking him deeper into your greedy pussy.

“Take it, fuck— take it, omega. Doing so well, fuck, feeling so good. Pussy is gripping my cock and not letting me move easily, princess,” Steve swears under his breath, his knot growing and his balls tightening while he thrusts hard into you.

He needs you to come for him so badly, he wants you to come on his cock twice — one time just one his cock and the second time together with him. Steve wants to feel your pussy clenching even more around him and needs your walls to grip him until he can barely move inside of you.

He smirks mischievously at you, groaning when you squeeze his cock. He then lowers his face to your neck, sucking at your soft skin, he wants to claim you, but he doesn’t want to do it without asking you and he isn’t sure if you could answer properly. Steve loves you, but claiming you would mean forever and he doesn’t want to ask you when you’re cock drunk and in a state you would probably agree with everything as long as he is keeping his cock inside of you.

So he only scratches his teeth over the sensitive skin of your neck, sucking until he leaves dark blue and purple bruises all over your neck. He never slows his pace down, as much as he wants to come already, he learned to hold it for a while.

“Touch yourself, ‘mega. Make yourself come on my cock, fuck— Your pussy feels perfect around me, made for my cock, princess,” Steve mumbles. He feels your hand sliding between your bodies to your core.

He definitely needs to make you touch yourself when he is just watching you. He is sure he would almost come in his pants from just watching when you touch yourself but right now his goal is another one — making you come before he allows himself to come and when you’re just laying underneath him, cock drunk and whimpering you can at least help him to make you come on his cock.

“Stevie, please, need you to come inside of me, need your cum, your knot, please,” you whimper, circling your clit. Your eyes fall shut when you feel the knot in your stomach tightening. Your pussy is squeezing Steve more and he needs all of his control to not come immediately.

“Come, princess. Soak my cock, come all over it,” he groans, speeding his thrusts up. It only needs a few more thrusts against your sweet spot before you come around his cock.

Your cock drops open, your fingers digging into his muscular back, while Steve doesn’t slow down his pace. His cock pulsing inside of you, your walls gripping him more and sucking him deeper, making it almost impossible for him to move.

Steve slides his fingers still through your hair, fucking you through your orgasm. “Look at you, doing so well for your Alpha. Squeezing my cock so well, a feeling so perfect when you come around it, and you’re looking so fucking beautiful when you come, princess.”

Your best friend's praises make you smile softly and you open your eyes, staring into his ocean blue ones, when he slows the pace of his thrusts down.

“Don’t stop, Alpha, p-please, need your cum,” you whimper, pouting. Steve shakes his head, still moving his cock inside of you, while he calms you down.

“Don’t worry, omega. I will give you whatever you ask for,” Steve tells you, kissing you softly before he picks up his pace again. His cock slamming into you, not caring that your pussy is all sensitive from your last orgasm. As long as you don’t tell him to stop he won’t stop fucking you — his sweet little omega.

“Feel that? Feel my knot growing for you? Giving you all my cum, fuck— Princess, you feel so good. Thought I would ruin you for every other Alpha but looks like you’re doing the same with me, Omega.”

You giggle softly before Steve slams his cock back into you again. The tip of his cock kissing your cervix over and over again. Soft pain with much pleasure filling your body and you’re addicted to that feeling — addicted to your best friend and his cock.

“So cock drunk, aren’t you? Come, omega, give me another one, know you can do it, come all over my cock,” he growls into your ear, his breath hitching when you squeeze his cock once again.

You didn’t know you could come that fast after your first orgasm but you feel the pressure in your lower stomach growing once again. Your breath is heavy, your body just as sweaty as Steve’s and your legs start to shake.

“S—Stevie, I’m so close, please. Alpha, need your knot, so badly,” you utter, nails digging into his skin and you’re sure you leave marks on your back.

Your Alpha smirks at your request, but gives it gladly to you. He hasn’t planned to stop fucking you before he comes so your request is just the perfect addition to his needs.

Your walls are pulsing, his cock is twitching and you feel his knot growing inside of your pussy, stretching it even more. “Fuck, come, omega, now!”

Steve’s low voice, his demand and his cock hitting all the right spots brings you over the edge once again. You’re screaming his name, squirting all over him, when he comes inside of you with an animalistic groan. His cum painting your walls and it feels like he doesn’t stop to come at all. His knot holding his cock inside of you, Steve’s not able to pull his cock out — not that he wants to.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Feel that? Feel all my fucking cum? Just for you, princess, giving it all to you, my sweet omega,” he mumbles while you both catch your breath.

Tears fall down your cheeks and only his weight on top of you helps you to ground yourself. The feeling of your orgasm and his cock and cum so deep inside of you is just overwhelming and you can’t help but let the tears fall down your cheeks.

When Steve lifts his head to look at you his expulsion changes immediately into a worried one. His big hands slides to your cheek, wiping the tears away before he presses his lips down to remove the trails of them.

“Color, princess? Too rough? Too much? Aww princess, you were so good for me, you took my cock like a good girl, yeah, squirting all over me, was it too much?” Steve asks, not giving you a moment to answer while he praises you over and over again. You shake your head, whimpering when he moves softly, his cock shifting slightly inside of you as well.

“I— You weren't too rough, I loved it, Stevie. B—But, I-Iloveyou,” you say quietly, muffling your words when you press your face into the crook of your best friend's neck.

You didn’t think that Steve got what you said since you muffled your sounds and tried to speak as fast as possible but he understood it and smirks softly. His big hand is still caressing your cheek, while he swirls a strand of your hair around his thick fingers.

“I love you too, princess. But I understand when you don’t want me to claim you, or want to have another kind of relationship with me than friendship. I love you, as my best friend but also as my omega. But I won’t pressure you into something, princess,” he assures you, letting himself fall down on top of you, to let you feel more of his broad body.

You immediately wrap your arms tighter around his back, inhaling his scent. “Would you also— would you ever betray me when I’m not enough for you anymore? Maybe you will find a better Omega and love her more then?”

“Princess, stop that. Don’t think like that, you’re more than enough, so much love and affection inside of your big heart. Why should I ever want someone else when I can have you?” He asks, pushing you softly back while he looks into your eyes — and you see nothing but love in them, the truth, like a promise.

“Why are you always so fucki—“

“Omega!” Steve warns, raising an eyebrow when you giggle softly. You feel a tingle inside of your body and your pussy clenches when he talks to you like that. Steve growls, throwing his head back. “That’s what you like, huh?”

You nod your head, even though your pussy is answering for you too. “But you were swearing the whole time, Stevie,” you pout, giggling more when he pokes his fingers into your sides.

“That’s a difference, I just fucked you and wasn’t able to focus on something that wasn’t your pussy, princess,” he smirks, kissing you softly when you blush. “I love you, and I will protect you, let me make you mine next time. There is no one I could want when I have you.”

You nod, leaning up to chase his lips for a much needed kiss — no desperation, no roughness, just love and the promise you make to one another. “Oke, but only when I get a bubble bath now, with a lot of bubbles and you!”

He rolls his eyes playfully but agrees, kissing you softly before he turns the two of you around and gets up, his cock still inside of you, when he carries you into the bathroom to run you a warm bubble bath. He doesn’t care how late it is, that you should sleep, his princess needs a bubble bath with him? You get a bubble bath with him plus a massage and as many cuddles as you want.

“I love you too Stevie. And when you already pumped me full you could have asked to claim me already!”

“You were such a little cock drunk slut for me, princess. But I will make you mine before we go home tomorrow, we have all night to make you lose your mind on my cock,” he grins, kissing the top of your head when he slips his cock out of you and places you on the toilet to run a bath.

“I guess you’re the one who is going crazy with his cock in my pussy, Stevie. Or what were you thinking about when you jerked off earlier that day?”

You knew what he did in the shower, you have seen his hard cock for a brief moment but it was enough for you to see it being rock hard. And you’re not dumb, you know exactly when your best friend takes a shower because he needs one or because he has to need one. Steve blushes softly when you mention it, but then he smirks.

“Can’t help myself with such a sweet omega around me. My omega, princess,” Steve utters, picking you up from the toilet to place you in the warm water with a whole lot of bubbles before he gets into the bathtub behind you, pulling you close against him. Steve’s broad chest pressing against your back and you sight softly when you place your head against his shoulder and letting his big hands wander over your thighs and stomach, drawing small circles on your skin.

// Taglist // @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @somnorvos @meowmeowyoongles @felicitylemon @cjand10 @lives-in-midgard @casa-boiardi @cevansbaby-dove @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @princesscore-angel @mrs-katelyn-barnes @blackhawkfanatic @multiversefanfics @bookishtheaterlover7 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @elyse-harper81 @loki-laufeyson68

[literaryavenger]

A concept that breaks my heart: imagine Bucky that eats like he doesn’t know where his next meal will be coming from because, for the longest time, he didn’t. 

But nobody on the team knows because he never eats with them.

All it took was some absentminded comment from Sam the first time Bucky ate with him and Steve about how Bucky ate his hamburger in like 5 seconds. Sam didn’t really mean anything by it, he was just joking around, but Bucky got incredibly self-conscious about the way he eats and stopped eating in front of everybody, Steve included.

Every time the team was eating together, he’d say he wasn’t hungry or make up some excuse to get out of it but even if he couldn’t, he’d eat the bare minimum only to then sneak into the kitchen later when it was empty, make more food and then eat it in his room. 

You yourself only joined the Avengers recently, so you’ve never seen Bucky during meals with the whole team. 

But you don’t think too much of it, he always says he doesn’t need to eat as much which is a little weird because Steve is also a supersoldier and eats three times as much food as everybody else because of his faster metabolism, but Bucky’s serum was made by Hydra so, like everybody else, you just assume it allows him to operate with less need for sustenance which would make him a more efficient soldier. 

But, being a person that likes to observe more than you like to talk, you start noticing small things about Bucky that no one else seems to.

It all started when he let a compliment slip about some cookies that you made for the team, which was weird because after the lunch where you all ate them as dessert, which Bucky was once again absent from, the rest of them disappeared from the kitchen less than an hour later. You assumed it was Sam, Steve, Clint and Thor since all of them always finish the things you bake, but clearly it was Bucky.

So, he does eat. You start noticing more and more Bucky sneaking around the Compound here and there and one day you can’t help but give into the curiosity and follow him to the kitchen where you see him making himself food and then sneak back to his room. 

You don’t tell anybody though, or even bring it up with the man himself, instead you start saving food from meals so Bucky won’t have to make it himself and leave it out for him with notes so he’ll know they’re for him and nobody else will eat them. 

It takes Bucky a little bit to figure out who’s doing it, but when he finds out it’s not Steve like he suspected but you, the pretty newbie that he’s barely even talked to since you joined, to say he’s surprised is an understatement. 

But he can’t bring himself to confront you about it because he knows it’ll open up a whole can of worms about his eating habits and he’s too self-conscious about that to bring it up, so instead he starts leaving notes back every time he takes the food, addressed to you.

Now imagine this goes on for weeks, maybe months even, until one day Bucky builds up the courage to show up at one of the team meals and acts as casually as he can manage as he sits down and starts to eat. Nobody says anything or even acknowledges his unusual presence because, unbeknownst to Bucky, you’ve scolded everybody that tried to bring up Bucky’s eating habits over the last few months. 

When you join the table after Bucky, as soon as you notice him all you do is grin and sit down before you start eating your own food. This is the first time Bucky’s ever actually seen you eat and his eyes widen when he sees you eat like a prisoner sentenced to death, but nobody else seems surprised or even that bothered. The entire team is used to it by now and they couldn’t care less, much to Bucky’s surprise.

“You… Always eat like that?” Bucky asks quietly before he can stop himself, worried about offending you the second the words leave his mouth.

But, once again, much to his surprise, you look up at him with a smile and nod unapologetically. “Yeah, my dad always used to say ‘Whatever you do, do it a hundred percent.’ That means when you work, work. When you laugh, laugh. And when you eat… Eat like it’s your last meal.”

Bucky looks at you with a blank expression for all of five seconds before his face breaks into a goofy grin. Not only did he already find you pretty and adorable, but after hearing you say that he thinks you’re the most attractive woman he’s ever known, even if you’re currently stuffing your face like there’s no tomorrow.

Imagine little by little Bucky starts feeling more and more comfortable eating around others, until eventually he joins every meal the team has together. And, when they’re all doing their own thing, he still asks you to have lunch or dinner with him and the two of you crackle at the other eating like a pig, not one hint of shame in either of you.

Anyway, just a thought.

[witchywithwhiskey]

room for one more

pairing: movie star!bucky barnes x female reader x movie star!steve rogers

summary: you meet your boyfriend's best friend for the first time, and he perfectly matches the energy of your relationship. then, what was meant to be a fun night for the three of you, turns into something more.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, threesome, piv sex, anal sex, double penetration, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, oral sex (f and m receiving), anal fingering, come eating/swallowing, come play, semi-public play, light bdsm, check-ins, marking/bruises, teasing, edging, light overstimulation, some m/m (kissing and hand-holding), dirty talk, praise kink, light degradation, pet names (sweetheart, baby), aftercare, established relationship, happy ending polycule

word count: 12.2k

a/n: i was inspired by those pics from last month at the walk of fame ceremony, and this was originally just going to be a fun, flirty threesome. but then as i was writing, the characters decided we were adding some bucky/steve to the mix, so here we are!!! i haven't written anything like this before so i hope i did ok 🫣 also i did not mean for this fic to be so long but i had so much fun writing it, i just couldn't stop hahah anyway! hope y'all enjoy!!!

A jolt of excitement shot down your spine when you recognized Steve Rogers approaching through the crowd beneath the white canvas tent set up on Hollywood Boulevard. Your boyfriend, Bucky Barnes, must’ve felt the way your body tensed as you sat beside him, because his hand tightened on your bare thigh. 

Bucky wasn’t looking at you—he’d caught sight of his oldest friend, and the corners of his mouth were flickering in the way they did when he was trying to repress a grin—but you could feel his own excitement in the way his fingers dug into your soft flesh. You had a feeling you weren’t the only one thinking about the plans you, Bucky and Steve had for that evening.

But then your boyfriend’s touch was gone and Bucky was standing to greet his oldest friend with a tight hug. There were even a few enthusiastic back pats thrown into the mix. It was clear the men were happy to see each other.

You watched the interaction, fascinated. In all the time that you’d been dating Bucky, you hadn’t met his childhood friend, nor had you seen them interact, and you couldn’t help but notice the way he relaxed in Steve’s presence. Bucky’s shoulders loosened and his smile was easier. Normally, he’d be tense in a crowd surrounded by photographers, and look to you for comfort—and you were always happy to give it. 

But it seemed you weren’t the only person who could have a calming effect on Bucky, and it made you smile to see him catch up with Steve, a sense of happiness settling into your heart as you watched your boyfriend talk to his best friend. There was an easiness to their interaction that spoke to their decades of friendship, and instead of feeling put out that Bucky hadn’t introduced you yet, you understood he needed a moment with Steve. 

It had been months since they’d last seen each other, and they’d only been reunited for the Walk of Fame ceremony you were attending with Bucky, where a director he and his best friend had both worked with was receiving a star. The director had discovered Steve and Bucky when they were younger, giving them their first roles that eventually led to their careers in Hollywood. 

“Is this your girl?” Steve asked, his friendly voice pitched a little louder so you could hear it over the crowd of people all crammed beneath the tent. You looked up and found Steve’s face tilted down toward you, his attention making you feel warm all over. There was a playful, devastatingly handsome tilt to his mouth as he asked, “The future Mrs. Barnes?”

Steve held out both of his hands to you and you tipped your head back with a laugh as you slipped your fingers into his palms. He helped you to stand, his hands smoothing up your arms to your elbows, then pulled you into his orbit as he leaned in to brush kisses to both of your cheeks. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Steve,” you murmured in between skimming your lips over his whiskered cheeks, enjoying the prickle of his beard against your soft skin.

Since you were so close, Steve’s warm, woodsy scent washed over you. Somehow, it went straight to your head and your core, making you sway a little on your heels as a warmth bloomed deep in your belly. You had to repress a shiver and hold yourself back from burying your face in Steve’s neck to inhale more of his delicious smell as you leaned back from your greeting.

“The pap photos don’t do you justice, sweetheart, you’re much more gorgeous in person,” Steve rumbled, his hands giving your arms a light squeeze before he stepped back to a more polite distance.

You felt bereft without Steve’s touch, and you reached instinctively for Bucky’s hand. Your boyfriend slid in next to you, catching your fingers in one of his hands while the other settled against your lower back. His familiar cologne filled your senses and you smiled up at him, feeling steadier as you leaned into Bucky. In your chest, your heart was racing, and you tried to make sense of the riot of emotions in your belly. 

Thankfully, Steve’s comment about paparazzi got the men talking about their least favorite aspect of working in Hollywood and you could take a moment to collect yourself.

As you did, you took the opportunity to look at Steve properly. 

Of course, you’d seen him in movies, and in plenty of photos on social media. You’d even seen him in some pictures of the two friends that Bucky had hanging in the brownstone you shared together in Brooklyn. But it was a different thing entirely to see your boyfriend’s Hollywood heartthrob best friend in person.

Steve had made a name for himself in the business as the golden boy action hero, leading a franchise that had grossed over $2 billion with just three movies. In his mid-30s, he had his pick of any blockbuster movie role in town, and he had the looks and the talent to make whatever film he chose a success.

Your eyes, hidden behind a pair of sunglasses, raked down Steve’s body, and it struck you how much he looked like the epitome of an action hero with his broad shoulders and trim waist. His biceps bulged in the sleeves of his short-sleeved button-up and his thighs filled out his slacks nicely.

Trailing your eyes back up to his handsome face, you noted that Steve’s beard was well-groomed and his watch looked expensive despite its simplicity. But he managed to look much more down-to-earth with his navy blue cap and sunglasses than most of the overly shiny men in Hollywood. 

It almost made you smile how you could immediately spot so many differences between Steve and Bucky, but, at the same time, so many similarities, too. 

Although they were both actors, their career trajectories had gone in completely different directions. While Steve had become an action star, Bucky had made a name for himself in indie movies and prestige dramas. Also in his mid-30s, Bucky had a few major awards under his belt, and he was often flying around the world to promote his movies at film festivals like Cannes. 

But, like Steve, he’d opted for a more down-to-earth look for the Walk of Fame ceremony, choosing a patterned button-up tucked into simple slacks. He looked a bit more polished, in your opinion, and just as handsome as his best friend. Though he didn’t have the same broad build as Steve, he still looked strong and fit—and his ass filled out his slacks very nicely, which you’d told him before the two of you had left your hotel suite that morning. 

“It’s a shame it took something like this to finally get you both out here to LA at the same time,” Steve said, getting your attention. 

He shifted closer to your side opposite Bucky, making you feel almost caged in between their two broad chests. To your surprise, though, you didn’t mind. You felt more comfortable between them, and you wondered what it would feel like to be pressed between their broad bodies without any clothes in the way…

“I’ve been dying to meet your girl,” Steve went on, his voice dropping low so only you and your boyfriend could hear. His fingers skimmed up the back of your arm and across the bare skin of your shoulders, making you tremble lightly. Steve’s eyes danced across your face and he smirked as he said, “And I can’t wait to get to know you intimately later tonight, sweetheart.”

You visibly shuddered at Steve’s suggestive words, your mind jumping immediately to the plans the three of you had for that evening. They entailed the hotel suite Bucky had booked for the evening, and the three of you alone together, completely naked. Touching, kissing, and more.

The plans were a result of conversations you’d had with your boyfriend. Bucky had told you early on in your relationship that he had a fantasy about sharing his girl with his best friend, and you’d liked the idea far more than you’d expected. However, it had been difficult to make happen, given his and Steve’s busy movie star schedules. So, despite it being the same day you were meeting Steve, that night might be the only time in a long time that it could happen.

But something about the energy between the three of you in that warm tent made you think that even if the plan wasn’t already for you, Bucky and Steve to end up in bed together that night, it would’ve happened anyway. You couldn’t put your finger on why you thought so, but it had quite a bit to do with the hungry looks they were shooting your way—and exchanging with each other.

“Don’t get her all riled up yet, Stevie,” Bucky chided his best friend lightly, but when he cut his eyes to you behind his sunglasses, you could see a mischievous glimmer in their depths. “You keep whispering in her ear like that, and she’s gonna end up leaving a mess on her chair.”

Biting back a gasp, you squirmed against Bucky’s side, your embarrassment at his comment fanning the flames of your arousal. Your boyfriend chuckled at your reaction and wrapped his arm around your back, his fingers digging into your hip to hold you still, though that only made you want to writhe against him some more.

Steve’s eyebrows winged upward at Bucky’s comment, and you could tell from the slight shifting of his head that he was looking back and forth between your faces, a small smirk on his lips. “Is that so?” he asked, the slight edge of a challenge in his tone. 

Bucky knew your body well—he knew what turned you on and just how wet he could make you with his words and voice alone. You’d long since learned that your boyfriend got a great deal of enjoyment out of teasing you and working you up until you were begging for him. He loved seeing just how wet and sloppy he could make you, pushing you both until you were ravenous for each other. 

So it didn’t surprise you that Bucky shot his best friend a cocky grin and drawled, “Oh Stevie, you’d be surprised at just how messy my girl can get.” 

Heat flushed fast and fierce through your body and you whipped your head around to look at your boyfriend. It was on the tip of your tongue to demand he and Steve take you back to your hotel, but at that moment, the event organizers began telling everyone to take their seats. 

You were frustrated and thankful for the interruption as you took your seat between Bucky and Steve. Although the ceremony beginning meant there was no way you could convince Bucky to leave early, at least it meant your boyfriend and his best friend couldn’t continue to torture you.

At least, that’s what you naively believed. Until not one, but two hands slipped onto your bare thighs. 

“You don’t mind, do ya, Buck?” Steve asked cheerfully across you, his thumb stroking over your skin in a way that nearly had you whimpering. He wore a shameless grin as he sat forward, looking at your boyfriend while touching you.

Your thoughts had scattered, and it didn’t even occur to you how inappropriate it was for Steve to put his hand on your thigh right in front of your boyfriend. In the deepest reaches of your heart, it just felt right for both Bucky and Steve to have their hands on you. And instead of being surprised by Steve’s boldness, you just felt desperate for one of them to move their hand higher, to stroke their fingers over the spot where you needed them most. 

“Not at all, Stevie,” Bucky replied easily, his tone almost nonchalant as he dragged his gaze up from Steve’s hand to his best friend’s face. “You go right ahead,” he said, shifting in his chair, moving closer to you as he began stroking his thumb against your other leg, matching Steve’s rhythm so perfectly, it was maddening.

If you didn’t know Bucky so well, you wouldn’t have been able to detect the undercurrent of desire in his tone, or the way he was shifting in his seat to hide the slight bulge in the front of his slacks. Your whole body clenched tight with the reminder that you weren’t the only one excited by the knowledge that you would be bringing Steve into your bed that evening. 

Bucky clearly got off on seeing his best friend’s hand on your thigh and you relaxed a little. Your boyfriend’s desire calmed the anxiety you didn’t know you had—anxiety that you were the only one excited for more—leaving only arousal simmering deliciously in your belly.

As if somehow sensing your thoughts, Bucky leaned in to whisper in your ear.

“How’s it feel, baby?” Bucky purred, his voice as warm as the summer sun shining on the crowded tent. “Having my best friend’s hand on your thigh, his fingers so close to your sweet, needy cunt?” 

Bucky’s fingers slid slowly up your thigh, curling beneath the hem of your dress, teasing closer to the heat nestled between your thighs. He was so close to touching you where you needed him most, that you had to bite back a whimper before even beginning to think about answering. 

Your boyfriend’s fingers dug into your soft flesh, urging you to respond, but all you could manage was one word.

“Bucky.” His name was the softest whine lilting from your lips, carried on the gentle California breeze. Your fingers were clinging to the edges of your seat and you squirmed restlessly, already feeling wetness gathering between your legs and soaking into the thin fabric of your panties. 

“Hush, sweetheart,” came Steve’s voice, rich and deep in your other ear. “You keep squirming and whining like that, and you might draw attention to yourself.” His fingers slipped beneath your dress, slotting in between Bucky’s as both men gripped your thighs, groping you unabashedly despite the crowd that surrounded the three of you. “And we wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

Bucky’s chuckle ghosted past the sensitive skin of your neck and your shoulders trembled with the effort it took to stop yourself from writhing on your chair. Pressing your lips together, you bit back the desperate mewl that threatened to spill from your lips, heeding Steve’s warning and suppressing the urge to beg them to touch you, crowd be damned.

Steve was right, after all. You were in a crowded tent, waiting for the Walk of Fame ceremony to begin, surrounded by your boyfriend’s friends and colleagues—and there were cameras everywhere. You may have felt surrounded well enough by the broad shoulders of your boyfriend and his best friend sitting on either side of you, but it was a false sense of privacy.

You knew you needed to sit up straight and smile blandly, and pretend like Bucky and Steve’s hands weren’t slowly inching closer to the juncture of your thighs. You needed to play the part of Bucky’s devoted girlfriend, and normally it wouldn’t be too difficult. Your boyfriend didn’t usually play this game in public, since he knew you were one photograph away from winding up on the home page of TMZ with a headline calling you Bucky Barnes’ whore or something equally degrading. 

But there was something about Steve being there that was making your boyfriend act a little reckless. And, despite Steve being the one to warn you about the situation you were in, you knew he was the foolhardy one. You could feel his energy urging Bucky on, and your boyfriend seemed all too happy to match his best friend’s energy. 

“Didn’t you know, Stevie,” Bucky began, his voice quiet but easygoing, as if he was talking to his best friend about something as banal as the weather or their new movies. “My girl’s a needy little slut, and she can’t help acting like it.” 

Your teeth sank into your lower lip a mere second before the tips of Bucky’s fingers brushed so, so gently against the soaking wet fabric of your panties. A strangled moan caught in your throat and you tried to squirm in your seat, but Bucky and Steve’s hands clamped down hard on your thighs, holding you still.

“Just look at the way she’s spreading her legs for us,” Bucky went on, a new warmth in his tone, like he was wholly enjoying the way you were getting worked up. “She doesn’t even know she’s doing it.” Bucky’s face tilted toward you, and you could feel his gaze like a warm caress against your cheek as he asked, in a patronizingly sweet voice, “Do you, baby?”

Despite the chatter of the crowd around you, the sharp breath you inhaled at Bucky’s question was loud in your ears. You dragged your gaze away from your boyfriend’s face and looked down to see your thighs had spread open on your chair, much wider than was appropriate for the public ceremony, without you even noticing.

Your first instinct was to snap your legs closed, and somehow, both men seemed to anticipate it. Bucky and Steve moved simultaneously, almost as if they’d planned it, shoving their hands under your dress to be trapped between your plush thighs. Their fingertips were so close to your pulsing heat, but not quite touching it. 

Your legs clenched tight together around their warm hands, trying to force them to touch you, but it was no use. They were trapped, and so were you, unable to spread your legs and beg them for more while you were sitting in the crowded tent on Hollywood Boulevard.

If Bucky and Steve minded that their fingers were tangled together between your thighs, they didn’t show it. Both men were grinning at each other, their bodies bracketing either side of yours, heads ducked together as if the three of you were simply having a private conversation. 

But that’s not what was happening. Your body was a riot of sensation, of desperate, burning need. Fisting your hands in your lap, you curled in on yourself and shuddered, biting your bottom lip hard against a moan of pleasure and frustration. 

It felt so good to have their hands on you, but you wanted them to touch you for real. You wanted them to push your panties to the side and stroke your clit before plunging their fingers into your dripping hole. But they couldn’t. And more than that, you knew they wouldn’t. Not while the three of you were in public and surrounded by people.

Bucky’s hand settled over your curled fists, his strong fingers easing the tension from your hands until he could slip his palm into both of yours. “Sit up, baby, the ceremony’s finally starting,” Bucky murmured in your ear, not unkindly. 

His other hand flexed gently on your thigh, making you wheeze and tremble as you straightened, but your boyfriend only chuckled under his breath when you shot him a little glare. He ducked close and pressed a kiss to your cheek, mollifying you for the moment.

Your fingers tangled with Bucky’s on your lap as you sat up and pushed your shoulders back, fixing a polite smile on your face. You did your best to ignore the fact that both your boyfriend and his best friend’s hands were tucked between your thighs beneath your dress, making a valiant effort to pretend as if nothing was amiss. 

It helped that you had something to hold onto, your fingers twining idly with Bucky’s. You hadn’t realized you were fidgeting a bit too much until you felt another hand land gently on your forearm, and you followed it up to look at Steve. He gave you a small, reassuring smile, his hand squeezing your arm lightly, and you settled further. 

While the emcee of the ceremony took the small stage and began to introduce the director being honored, you managed to relax. You focused on the speech being given, and worked to remain quiet, despite the still burning heat in your blood.

You thought, once the ceremony began, the boys would behave themselves, but you were wrong.

Bucky and Steve seemed to work in synchrony, taking turns whispering filthy things into your ear that refused to let you forget you had their hands trapped between your thighs, your body aching for them to touch you.

Sometimes they’d tease you with the predicament you found yourself in, and other times they’d make promises that they intended to fulfill once the three of you were alone.

They were equally merciless, their words getting dirtier and dirtier as the ceremony went on, and your core throbbed unrelentingly, the evidence of your drawn-out arousal dripping into your panties and smearing on the plastic seat of the chair. 

It became increasingly apparent that Bucky’s playful warning would come true—you were going to leave a wet spot behind when you stood up. But no matter how you tried to rein in your desire, Bucky and Steve were determined to keep you on edge with their words and their touch alone. It was all you could do to try to portray the image of a respectful Hollywood girlfriend, and not the wanton slut all three of you knew you to be. 

Finally, the ceremony wrapped up and all around you, people began to stand and chatter again as photographers hired for the event escorted some to have their pictures taken with the director being honored. 

The reality that you’d have to stand up on legs that felt like butter melted in the summer sun hit you all at once, and you grabbed Bucky’s hand before he could stand up. You gave him a desperate, pleading look, unable to find the words to ask for help. 

But your boyfriend must’ve felt the way your leg trembled beneath his other hand, because he seemed to understand your plight. He glanced around before removing his hand from under your dress, Steve following his lead and doing the same. 

Both men had turned their bodies toward you, caging you in and protecting you from the eyes of the crowd and the paparazzi. Bucky wrapped his arm tightly around your waist while Steve braced your arm under his, and they both helped you to stand. 

It took a moment, and you swayed between their broad bodies, their scents swirling around you and making you want to sink into both of them. But after a moment, you managed to get your legs to work and hold you up with minimal help from your boyfriend and his best friend.

Once you were steady, you watched the boys exchange a look and then, in tandem, they looked over your shoulder and down at the seat where you’d just been sitting. You, however, didn’t need to look to know what they’d see, and your cheeks flamed with red-hot embarrassment, even as your core throbbed in arousal. 

Steve sucked in a sharp breath at the same time Bucky chuckled, and you knew—there was a wet spot on your chair. You tried to bury your face in Bucky’s chest, but he tutted at you quietly and gripped your chin to turn your face to Steve. 

Your boyfriend’s best friend had waited until he had your attention, then he shot you a wicked grin before ducking down and wiping his fingers through the mess you’d left behind on the seat, cleaning up most of it. As he stood back up, he popped his fingers into his mouth.

Your whole body felt like it was on fire as you watched Steve lick your arousal from his fingers, his soft groans reaching your ears over the noise of the crowd. 

“Mm, you taste just as sweet as I hoped,” Steve murmured, crowding into you with a delicious smirk curling his mouth. Leaning in, his beard brushed gently against your cheek, making you shudder. “You really are just as much of a slut as Bucky said, huh?” 

You tried to bite back a whimper, but the soft sound of desperation slipped free from your lips. “Yes,” you mewled, meeting Steve’s gaze through both your sunglasses, feeling his hunger sear you to the bone while Bucky’s hands held you steady. 

“Can’t wait to bury my mouth in your cunt later, sweetheart,” Steve rumbled, nuzzling the side of your face lightly. You could smell yourself on his breath, and it made you tremble harder in Bucky’s arms. “Gonna make you scream for being such a good girl and putting up with me and Bucky’s teasing.”

Your eyes were wide behind your sunglasses, your breathing shallow, and you couldn’t stop shaking with desire. You felt like you might explode right there on Hollywood Boulevard, and Bucky seemed to sense that you’d been pushed to your limit. 

“Alright, Stevie, that’s enough,” Bucky said as he tucked you in beneath his arm. His tone held an undercurrent of finality, and Steve backed off, nodding as he gave your elbow an apologetic squeeze.

Then Bucky’s fingers were gently nudging your chin to lift so he could look at your face and check on you. Even through his sunglasses, you could feel his gaze roving over your face and you smiled softly to let him know you were ok. Bucky pressed a sweet kiss to your lips.

“You were a very good girl, baby,” he praised in a soft rumble, swiping his thumb just beneath your bottom lip, cleaning away some of your lipgloss. “I’m so proud of you.” He brushed another kiss to your forehead and let your head fall against his shoulder, taking a moment amidst the chaos of the post-ceremony rush to hold you.

You snuggled into your boyfriend despite the warm summer heat in the tent, enjoying the comfort of his familiar scent and letting it relax you. You knew you still had a few hours before Bucky and Steve would take you back to the hotel suite your boyfriend had booked for the night, and you took the opportunity to let the desire in your body cool just a bit.

Too soon, a photographer was calling for Bucky and Steve and they left you to take photos with the director. You waited for them, long having gotten used to watching Bucky get his picture taken. 

As you watched Bucky and Steve laugh together, throwing their arms around each other, you were struck again by how much at ease your boyfriend was with his best friend. Part of the reason he’d chosen to get a place in Brooklyn was that he said he always felt awkward at Hollywood events, and you’d squeezed his hand in comfort enough times to know that to be the truth.

But with Steve at his side, Bucky looked just as relaxed as if the three of you were hanging out alone, throwing his head back as his best friend made some kind of joke just for him. 

It occurred to you that perhaps you should feel jealous. After all, you took great pride in being one of the few people who could make Bucky feel comfortable and relaxed. But instead you just felt happy—you were glad Bucky had someone else in his life who made him feel at ease.

When the pictures were finally done, Bucky cut through the crowd to wind an arm around your waist, tugging you against his body and dropping his mouth to yours for a quick kiss.

“Ready to get out of here, baby?” he murmured, a delicious smirk on his handsome face. You nodded eagerly as Steve slid in next to Bucky, joining the two of you and making a circle of three. You smiled at Steve, who gave you a devastating grin in return.

The hours after the ceremony went by in a blur. Despite your best efforts to calm yourself, burning need simmered low in your belly, ensuring your body never properly settled, even through the early dinner you shared with Bucky, Steve and some of their close Hollywood friends. 

Your pulse seemed to beat in time with the watch on Steve’s wrist, your body instinctively counting down the seconds until your boyfriend and his best friend would take you back to the hotel and fulfill their promises of sharing you. You had to keep your thoughts on other things, lest you leave another wet spot on your seat, while you smiled and chatted through dinner.

The elevator in the hotel felt too cramped for the three of you, and you clung desperately to Bucky’s hand, your fingers twisted so tightly around his, you would’ve worried about cutting off his circulation if you could think of anything else but the throbbing heat between your thighs. Steve snagged your other hand, holding it tightly and giving it an encouraging squeeze that you felt in your core.

The door to the hotel suite had barely closed when Steve pounced on you, his hand wrapping around the front of your throat as he backed you up into Bucky’s chest, his lips descending on yours as he took possession of your mouth like you were his to devour. You let out a small squeak of surprise before surrendering to Steve’s plundering mouth, sinking into the need and desire of his tongue as it stroked against yours.

Bucky’s hands circled your upper arms, holding you pinned between the two men’s firm bodies while Steve ravaged your mouth. Unable to stop himself, Bucky dropped his mouth to your neck, kissing the fluttering spot over your thrumming pulse point and nuzzling your soft skin with his whiskered jaw until you were shivering with need.

Then Steve was dropping to his knees, right there in the entryway of the suite, muttering something about needing to taste your cunt straight from the source. If it wasn’t for Bucky holding you steady, your knees would’ve given out at the sight of the golden boy action hero staring at the juncture of your thighs with such determination, it sent a quiver of anticipation down your spine.

Steve moved quickly, pushing your dress up past your thighs and ripping your panties down your legs, tossing them away. He crawled closer, throwing one of your thighs over his broad shoulder before burying his face in your cunt, groaning loudly against your slick folds.

Bucky held you propped up against his chest, his hands holding your dress up so the both of you could stare down your body and watch Steve feast on you like a starving man. While his best friend ate you out, Bucky pressed kisses and little love bites into your neck, murmuring soft praises in your ear.

Your boyfriend told you what a good girl you were, behaving so well for him and his best friend while Steve’s tongue buried deep into your pussy, his lips sucking on your clit until you came with a scream. Your spine arched, and you twined a hand in Steve’s soft blond hair while your other clung to Bucky’s arm, holding onto both of them as you shattered apart on Steve’s tongue.

After that preamble in the suite’s entryway, it wasn’t long before you were bouncing on Steve’s cock, another orgasm quickly building in your core. 

The boys had divested you of your remaining clothing and shed theirs in a flurry of hands skimming over naked skin and low, appreciative groans. You hadn’t been able to stop touching either of them, your fingers raking over hardened muscle and nails digging into golden skin. You felt drunk and gluttonous on the ability to finally touch them, really touch them, in the true privacy of the hotel suite.

As you fucked yourself on Steve’s perfect cock, your hands never seemed to stop moving, fingers digging into his pecs, his abs, trailing up the sides of his ribs until he was laughing and moaning at the same time. His face was a little flushed, rosy pink spots in his cheeks, and his mouth flattened into a determined line. Steve was just as beautiful undone beneath you as he’d been when you’d first seen him in person on Hollywood Boulevard.

“Fuck—fuck, sweetheart, your cunt’s squeezing me so fucking tight,” Steve huffed, his hips working up between your thighs, impaling you on his thick cock. “Fuck, ‘m gonna blow in your pretty pussy in no time if you keep…” 

He trailed off as the tip of his dick hit a spot inside you that made your whole pussy clench down on his hard, heavy length. Steve threw his head back with a growly groan, his fingers digging so hard into your soft hips, you suspected he’d leave bruises behind.

Not that you minded in the least. 

It felt too good, Steve’s thick, hard length pounding into you from below, bouncing you on his cock so your tits heaved and you wanted to pinch your nipples, but you were too eager to keep touching your boyfriend’s best friend to tear your hands away. 

Your gaze trailed away from Steve, finding Bucky sitting back on his knees beside you and his best friend, a satisfied smirk on his perfect mouth while he pumped his own cock lazily in his fist. His glimmering blue eyes were focused on the place where you were impaled on Steve’s cock, but when you whined desperately, his gaze flicked up to meet yours.

“Ya having fun, baby?” Bucky asked, humor in his tone as he ignored the pleading look in your eyes. A drop of precum beaded at the tip of his dick and your mouth watered with the desire to flick your tongue over his cock head and lap it up. But then you remembered he’d asked you a question.

“Yes, yes, but I need more,” you rasped, your voice husky with arousal, stuttering out of you as Steve kept pounding you from below. You arched your spine, sticking out your tits and putting them on display for the men while your fingers dug into Steve’s abs, hoping your boyfriend would take the hint,

“Greedy girl,” Bucky said, chuckling good-naturedly as he shifted closer on his knees. You angled your body toward him and he took one of your breasts in his free hand, kneading it with dextrous fingers while his mouth descended on the other. He sucked your nipple into his mouth and laved his tongue over it, still stroking his cock.

If Steve cared that Bucky’s cock was close to leaking all over his arm and ribs, he didn’t say. Instead, the blond man’s eyes glittered with desire as he watched your boyfriend play with your tits.

“Christ, Buck, you get to fuck this pussy every day?” Steve huffed, awe and a little bit of jealousy in his ragged voice. 

Bucky’s low laugh ghosted over your dewy skin. He gave your nipple one last affectionate suckle before pulling his mouth away, his other hand trailing down your body and between your thighs. Your boyfriend teased a fingertip around your clit, making your body jerk, a whine slipping from your lips that only made him laugh again.

“Stevie,” Bucky began, light admonishment in his tone. He rubbed your clit, making you wail in pleasure as your body clenched down hard around Steve’s cock, pulling a loud grunt from the man between your thighs. “I fuck this pussy multiple times a day. You know how she feels now, wouldn’t you fuck her every chance you got?”

“Yes—fucking christ, yes,” Steve groaned, his chest heaving, hips rising up from the bed as he fucked you harder, chasing his release. 

His wild blue eyes caught yours, Steve’s expression fixed into one of tenacity that made your pussy flutter. 

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he rasped, his fingers digging deeper into your hips, nearing the point of pain as he pulled you down onto his stiff length. “Come on my cock—let me feel you before I blow my load in your cunt, please.”

You didn’t know if it was Steve’s ‘please’ or his cock buried deep in your pussy or Bucky’s fingers on your clit—though you suspected it was a combination of all three—but the pleasure coiling tight in your core snapped. Electric currents of ecstasy flashed through your body as you came. Tossing your head back, you screamed your release to the heavens, your hips working of their own accord, grinding your pulsing cunt mercilessly on Steve’s cock.

Your boyfriend’s best friend was right behind you, coming with a rough shout, the tendons of his neck straining with his head thrown back on the bed. His fingers dug so deep into your plush hips, you could’ve sworn they reached down to the bone as he pulled you flush against his abdomen.

He was so deep inside you that you could feel his cock twitch and the pulsing warmth of his come as it flooded your pussy. The sensation dragged another fluttering wave from your cunt, and you writhed against Steve, both of you eking out as much pleasure from each other as possible. 

Bucky’s fingers didn’t relent on your clit until you whined at the overstimulation, your upper body swaying almost drunkenly. Your head felt like it was filled with puffy clouds of pleasure as you slowly came down from the peak of your release, enjoying the way your body buzzed and your pussy fluttered around Steve’s softening cock.

“You did so good, baby,” Bucky murmured into your cheek before kissing your temple tenderly. 

A smile flickered at the corners of your lips as your eyes slid closed and you slumped against your boyfriend’s broad chest. You pressed your face into his sternum, inhaling the comforting, familiar scent of his cologne lingering on his skin. 

For a long moment, the three of you stayed like that. Bucky’s hand trailed comfortingly up and down your spine, his lips pressing sweet kisses to your face, while Steve’s big hands massaged your hips to ease some of the sting from his brutal grip. You were still going to bruise, but you didn’t mind having his marks on you.

Unsurprisingly, their hands touching you, no matter how gentle and soft they were being, had an effect on you, and it wasn’t long before desire rekindled in your core. Your hips squirmed restlessly, feeling Steve’s cock slip from your pussy, his release dripping out of you and making a mess of both your bodies. 

“Bucky,” you whispered, fingers trailing down his chest and taking his hard length in your hand. Your boyfriend’s cock jumped excitedly against your palm, the tip leaking precum that you desperately wanted to taste. Siting up, you looked up at your boyfriend from under your lashes, the corner of your mouth curling in a smirk. “D’you want my mouth or my pussy?”

A pained sounding groan came from Steve, drawing both your and Bucky’s attention. The blond man had thrown an arm over his eyes, looking exhausted, even with the smile playing around the edges of his mouth.

“You’re killing me, sweetheart,” Steve muttered, but you could feel his cock twitching beneath your messy cunt, trying to harden again already.

Bucky laughed huskily, his hand wrapping around the back of your neck before he pulled you to him for a consuming kiss. His tongue plunged into your mouth and you wondered distantly if he could taste Steve’s kiss on your lips, but then he groaned into you and all thoughts scattered from your mind.

When your boyfriend finally pulled away, you were breathless with anticipation, your wetness dripping from your pussy to coat Steve’s already slick cock. 

“You’re gonna clean up the mess you left all over Stevie’s cock, baby,” Bucky rumbled, his hand cupped beneath your chin, fingers digging lightly into your cheeks. “While I pump your pretty pussy full of another load of come. D’you want that?”

You smiled and nodded eagerly, not even needing to think about it. “Yes, please!”

Both men chuckled at your enthusiastic response as they began shifting on the bed, rearranging themselves to make Bucky’s words come true. 

Steve dragged his half-hard cock from between your messy folds, making you whimper at the loss of him as the cold hotel air rushed in against your throbbing core. The blond man smirked a little smugly, ducking forward and capturing your lips in an apologetic kiss.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he rumbled when he pulled away, laughter in his tone. “You’ll have my cock again before tonight’s over.” He dropped one, last smacking kiss to your lips before shifting up the bed. He flopped down in the mound of pillows with a contented sigh and spread his thick, golden thighs for you to crawl between. 

You bent forward onto your hands and knees and slid up the bed to settle between Steve’s legs, your fingers playing with the golden hair covering the taut muscles of his thighs as you pressed your face to his hip, leaving a lingering kiss against his skin. 

You felt Bucky moving into position behind you, and you smiled against Steve’s abdomen when your boyfriend’s hands grabbed your hips. A shiver of anticipation raced down your spine as you kissed closer to Steve’s cock.

Bucky adjusted your body until your ass lined up with his lap. His cock pressed between your closed thighs, sliding through the slickness of your and his best friend’s releases to coat his hard length, and you moaned into the thick thatch of hair at the base of Steve’s cock. 

Turning your head to the side, you lowered your shoulders so your boyfriend could see you nuzzling his best friend’s hardening dick, which was still soaking wet with a mixture of his come and yours. The scent of your release mixing with Steve’s while Bucky teased you from behind was a heady thing and your hips swayed from side to side, your pussy aching desperately to be filled again.

“Ready for me, baby?” Bucky teased, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. He dragged the head of his cock through your dripping slit, making you whine and try to push back onto his stiff length. 

Cutting your eyes over your shoulder, you gave your boyfriend a pleading look. “Please, Bucky, just fuck me,” you mewled, arching your back and spreading your thighs as much as you could, presenting your pussy to your boyfriend the way you knew he liked. 

You could tell by the way Bucky’s blue eyes darkened and dropped to the cleft of your ass that he liked what he saw. His big hands groped your thighs, then your ass, spreading your cheeks wide and grinning as he ran his thumbs along the seam of your pussy, pulling you open for him. 

“Well, since you begged so pretty…” He trailed off as he lined himself up with your hole, and then he was shoving the full length of his cock deep in your cunt.

You cried out in pleasure as Bucky speared into your sensitive hole, your face pressing against Steve’s cock, which jumped in response as if begging for your attention. 

Looking up Steve’s muscular form, you found him propped up on the pillows at the head of the bed, one arm angled behind his head. His bicep bulged in a way that made your mouth water, wanting to trace the veins of his arm. Instead, you put your tongue to use on his cock, dragging the flat of it up the entire length and humming a satisfied sound as the taste of your combined releases filled your mouth.

“Christ, sweetheart,” Steve groaned, his hips jerking up off the bed, pushing his hardening length against your kiss-swollen lips as if begging for more.

You acquiesced to his body’s wordless plea, taking the tip of him into your mouth and sucking softly, swirling your tongue around the head, wringing a grunt from Steve. His hand fell gently to the crown of your head, petting you affectionately as you worked his cock deep into your mouth, your lips forming a seal as you sucked him to full hardness.

“Oh f-fuck,” Steve moaned, a slight tremor working through his thick thighs on either side of your body. His fingers flexed against your head, but he didn’t push you away or pull you closer. “Jesus, Buck, you didn’t mention your girl’s mouth felt like fucking heaven,” he ground out through a clenched jaw, his eyes flicking to your boyfriend over your shoulder.

Bucky chuckled, fucking you in slow, lazy strokes, seemingly content to watch you suck off his best friend. 

You knew exactly what he was doing, taking his time to give Steve the chance to recover so the two of them could take you at the same time. When you and Bucky had first discussed details about inviting Steve to join you for the night, you’d admitted that you’d fantasized about being spit-roasted, and you knew your wonderful boyfriend was making sure it happened before he took his own pleasure.

Bucky groped your ass tenderly, bringing you back to the moment as he laughed at Steve’s comment. 

“Some things you just gotta figure out for yourself, Stevie,” came your boyfriend’s snarky reply, but his voice was low and gruff. 

You could hear just how much your boyfriend was affected and you smirked around Steve’s cock, refocusing on your task so the two of them could fuck you properly and Bucky could come. 

“Just wait till you feel her ass,” Bucky went on, surprising you by rubbing his thumb teasingly over your tight rosebud. “My girl’s tightest hole will have ya seeing stars.” 

You hummed a pleased sound at Bucky’s praise, wringing a grunt from Steve as the vibrations travelled down his cock, and pushed your ass back against the tip of your boyfriend’s thumb. He chuckled, pressing past the ring of muscle in your ass and making your entire body melt when all three of your holes were filled.

Your throat relaxed enough that Steve’s cock slid into it, and you swallowed around him, making his hips stutter up off the bed again at the squeeze of your muscles. It seemed to take him effort to settle back onto the mattress, his hand flexing furiously against your head.

“F-fuck, sweetheart,” he groaned, while you bobbed up and down on his dick. Spit and drool coated the length of him, slipping past your lips and down your chin, making a new mess on his cock. “You’re gonna suck out my fucking soul if ya keep doing that.” 

You huffed a laugh before taking Steve to the root and looking up at him from under your lashes. His blue eyes were glittering with desire, but there was something else in his gaze, too. Something deeper that you couldn’t quite name, but made your heart pound a little bit harder.

Looking away from his searing gaze, you refocused on sucking Steve’s cock and reveling in the feeling of Bucky’s dick in your pussy while his thumb stayed buried in your ass.

The three of you lapsed into silence, save for the grunts and groans from Steve, and the rumbling growls from Bucky as he kept his self-control on a tightly held leash and fucked you in firm, steady strokes. Your own sounds were muffled by Steve’s cock, but the soft, wet noises added to the small cacophony of pleasure filling your ears.

Finally, when Steve’s cock was twitching and so slick with your spit that he was sliding easily into your throat, he used his hand on your head to gently pull you off him. When you glanced up at him, though, he wasn’t looking at you. Craning your head to look over your shoulder, you saw Bucky give his best friend a nod and you realized he must’ve shared your fantasy with Steve.

The realization didn’t bother you, and you paused. It should bother you that your boyfriend shared something so intimate about you with his best friend, shouldn’t it? But you found you didn’t mind, because you liked Steve. Not only did you like him, you trusted him. 

If you’d been able to think about it more, you might’ve realized that what you were beginning to feel for Steve was deeper than like and trust, but your boyfriend’s best friend was moving, dragging your attention back to the moment and the heat building steadily in your core.

Steve ducked forward to capture your lips in a quick kiss, tasting himself on your lips before he shifted up onto his knees, moving closer to you to line up the tip of his cock with your mouth. With one fist wrapped around the base of his length, Steve ran the tip along your pouting lower lip, leaving a trail of precum that you eagerly licked up.

“Eager little cum slut, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Steve rumbled with a low chuckle. He barely gave you time to grin and nod before he was pushing his cock between your lips like he was too impatient to wait for your answer when your hot mouth was so close to his hard length. “That’s it, take my cock—I’ll fill your slutty tummy with all the come in my balls.”

When he was buried in your throat, you moaned as loudly as you could manage, a shiver racing down your spine as you basked in the feeling of being filled from both ends. Bucky’s thick, hard cock was buried to the hilt in your pussy, his thumb still filling your ass, and Steve’s dick was pressed so deep in your throat, you could only breathe through your nose.

“Careful, Stevie,” Bucky warned, but there was more warmth than menace in his tone. “If you keep spoiling my girl, you might have to join us more often.” He pulled his hips back, until only the tip of his cock remained inside you, before snapping them forward more forcefully against your ass. The sharp smacking sound of flesh meeting flesh met your ears and you moaned again.

“Jesus, Buck,” Steve groaned, his cock twitching in your throat as he grabbed the sides of your head and began to pump shallowly into your mouth. “I might finally move back to Brooklyn if you promise I can fuck your girl with you on the regular.” He bit back a moan, gritting his teeth as he fucked your mouth faster, matching Bucky’s pace. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of burying my dick in one of your girl’s tight holes.”

You purred in pleasure at Steve’s praise, the corners of your mouth curling into a faint smile as he spread your lips to bury his cock in your throat. Your boyfriend’s best friend grunted in pleasure and he shoved harder into your mouth, pushing your nose against his abdomen until you were fully pinned between the two men and impaled on their cocks. 

It was heaven, your mind floating with ecstasy as you gave yourself over to sensation. The slick drag of Bucky’s cock in your cunt, fucking Steve’s come deeper into you as he pounded your hole while he used his thumb in your ass to pull you back onto his hard length. Steve’s cock was thick and throbbing and delicious on your tongue, your lips closing around him to suck on his hardness as much as you could.

“Shoulda known the only way to get you back to Brooklyn was luring you with my girl’s pussy,” Bucky grunted, laughter in his voice. His hips slapped roughly against your ass, his free hand kneading your soft flesh and making you moan around Steve’s cock. “You can stay with us while you look for a place,” he offered, his tone snarky despite his obvious arousal. 

Pleasure swirled through your body, filling your head with fog, and it took you a long moment to understand Bucky’s words. If it had been anyone else, you might’ve been annoyed at Bucky for offering to let someone stay with you both without asking you first, but because it was Steve, you didn’t mind. In fact, the idea of Steve staying at the brownstone you and Bucky called home sounded perfect—not the least of which because it meant he and your boyfriend could fuck you whenever they wanted.

Your response to your boyfriend’s offer was delayed by the consuming pleasure they were giving you. So you moaned your delight belatedly at what the men were discussing, making them both chuckle. 

Steve stroked his thumb over your hollowed cheek, tilting your face up so he could look into your eyes while he kept fucking your throat. 

“You like the sound of that, sweetheart?” he asked, his tone patronizingly sweet. “Are you so much of a needy slut that you need two cocks to keep your cunt satisfied?”

Before you had a chance to nod or offer some other answer in the affirmative, Bucky huffed a laugh and spanked your ass lightly, the sound cracking through the hotel suite’s bedroom.

“Oh, she’s definitely that much of a slut,” he rumbled, his tone thick with love and affection, making you purr again. “Aren’t you, baby?” 

Obediently, you nodded your head, bobbing your mouth on Steve’s cock in the process and pulling a grunt from him even as both men laughed at your response. The boys fell silent again as they focused on fucking you, but your boyfriend didn’t seem able to stay quiet for long.

“If you do stay with us, watch out, Stevie—my girl loves sucking cock first thing in the morning.”

Your heart raced with excitement at the implication of Bucky’s words. It was one thing to be fucked by your boyfriend and his best friend in a random hotel room across the country from your home. It was another thing entirely for your boyfriend to let you wake up his best friend with a blow job. 

You couldn’t help but wonder if, in this hypothetical situation, Bucky was watching you suck Steve’s cock first thing in the morning. And, if so, was he in bed with his best friend… You began to suspect you and your boyfriend had a few things to talk about once he and his best friend were done fucking you.

“You kidding me, Buck?” Steve rasped, pulling your attention back to the present. “Waking up and immediately draining my balls in your girl’s perfect mouth sounds like a fucking dream.” 

He groaned, fucking your mouth harder, his thumbs swiping away the few tears that were falling onto your cheeks. Your heart beat harder, loving the way Steve was with you, so rough and gentle at the same time. So much like how Bucky treated you. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’d always have the taste of my cock on your tongue if I had anything to say about it,” Steve cooed down at you, making you hum happily as pleasure swirled through you. Your lips curled, trying to smile as much as you could manage as you stared up at Steve.

“Fucking hell, Stevie,” Bucky growled, sounding angry at his best friend’s words, but you could feel the way his cock twitched inside you. 

Steve, though, wasn’t afforded the knowledge of Bucky’s body’s reaction to the thought of your mouth always tasting like his best friend’s come and he laughed abashedly. 

“Sorry, Buck, ‘m sure you don’t wanna be thinking about my cock while you’re kissing your girl.” 

Your boyfriend was uncharacteristically silent for a long beat, and both men slowed their movements. Steve’s hips stuttered to a stop with your face pressed to his abdomen so you couldn’t look up and see what was happening. 

The men must’ve been exchanging a wordless look because you could feel the energy in the room changing. It was uncertain at first, then tentative, then all-consuming.

“Fuck,” Steve wheezed, his chest heaving with deep breaths as he grabbed your head and held you still so he could pound into your mouth.

“Fuck ‘er good, Stevie,” Bucky rumbled, his command drenched in desire. “Fill her mouth with your come, and coat her tongue in it.” 

Behind you, your boyfriend’s thrusts turned hard and rough, his thumb sliding free from your ass so he could grab your hips hard. His fingers dug into your plush curves hard enough, you knew he was going to give you a second set of bruises to match the ones Steve had left. Something about that felt perfectly right.

As for you, you were pinned so firmly between the two men, all you could do was suck Steve’s cock and moan at the ravenous pleasure burning through your body. 

It wasn’t long before Steve’s length twitched against your tongue and he pulled back until only the tip of his cock was in your mouth. He groaned loudly a second before he erupted in your mouth, filling it with rope after rope of his come, just like Bucky had told him to. 

It covered your tongue and slid down your throat, and you worked to swallow all of it while Steve furiously jacked off the rest of his stiff length, making sure he drained every drop from his balls.

As Steve came, Bucky’s hand curved around your hip and slipped between your thighs, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it hard just the way he knew you liked. In just a few seconds, Bucky had you shattering apart beneath him, your body trembling as you moaned around Steve’s softening cock, the vibrations making one last rope fall onto your tongue.

Your boyfriend must’ve been holding out for your release, because at the first clench of your cunt around his hard length, he was groaning. Bucky’s cock throbbed in your pussy and he buried himself to the root, filling you up with even more come and painting your cunt with his spend. 

The three of you writhed together as you each drew out each other’s orgasms. Your mouth popped off the end of Steve’s cock to suckle on his balls, making him shudder and let out the most tortured groan that was music to your ears. Bucky kept fucking you through the aftershocks of your release, ensuring every drop of his come was buried deep in your cunt.

Finally, when all three of you were exhausted and sated, you collapsed together on the soft hotel mattress. Bucky’s arm wrapped around your front and he hauled you up the bed to settle on your back against the pillows between him and Steve. Your legs were all tangled together and you couldn’t help the blissed out, happy smile that spread across your face as you looked from one man to the other.

“That was fucking amazing, sweetheart,” Steve murmured against your cheek before pressing a sweet kiss to your sweat-slick skin.

Bucky chuckled but nodded his agreement, dropping a kiss to your shoulder. “You were such a good girl, baby, you took both of us so well.” His fingers were dancing over your ribs, making you giggle and melt beneath their affectionate kisses and warm praise.

But something was niggling at you, a reminder of the moment Bucky and Steve had shared while they’d been buried inside you. The words Bucky had growled to his best friend flitted through your mind and you cut your eyes to your boyfriend, before shifting your gaze to his best friend, wondering if either of them were going to bring them up.

The energy in the room wasn’t awkward, but you could tell by the way they weren’t looking at each other, and were only paying attention to you that neither of them was going to revisit what was said between them in the heat of the moment. Rolling your eyes to yourself and huffing a silent sigh, you reached up and grabbed Steve by the back of the neck, pulling him to you for a messy kiss. 

He groaned when he tasted himself on your tongue and you could feel the corner of his mouth curl in a self-satisfied smile. But before the kiss could last too long, and too much of Steve’s taste could be washed from your tongue, you pulled away.

Turning to Bucky, you looked your boyfriend deep in the eye, a question in the slight raise of your brow. It took him a moment to understand what you were doing, but when he did, his gaze darkened with desire and his eyes dropped to your mouth. 

Then Bucky was kissing you—no, devouring you. His tongue plunged into your mouth and stroked against yours like he was licking it clean. A deep, guttural groan shuddered through your boyfriend when he tasted his best friend’s come on your tongue, and you could feel his cock twitch against your hip. 

Bucky kissed you until Steve’s taste was gone, and then he kissed you some more, his mouth worshipping yours in a way that stole your breath from your lungs. When he pulled away, he gave you a long, loving look, before his eyes lifted to his best friend. 

The men stared at each other for a long moment. You waited quietly between them with bated breath, wondering what would happen next…

For years to come, Bucky and Steve would fight good-naturedly over who leaned in first—who took that leap forward to turn their friendship into something more. Both of them would boast that they were the brave one. 

And every time they had their little fight, you’d get to tell Bucky and Steve that they both leaned forward at exactly the same second. That was the truth, and you knew because you’d been there to witness their first kiss.

Bucky and Steve’s mouths came together in a primal clashing of teeth and tongues, their lips consuming each other as they both groaned low in their chests. Years and years of friendship, and the something more that had been simmering beneath it, came to the surface, both men pouring their feelings into their kiss.

All you could do was watch, part of you shocked and part of you entirely unsurprised.

It was a wondrous thing to behold, your boyfriend kissing his oldest friend with just as much fervor as he kissed you after being gone on a long film shoot. They were both so gluttonous for each other, and you could feel the depth of their love changing as the kiss slowed into something tender.

You’d have been lying if you’d said the sight of Bucky and Steve kissing hadn’t rekindled the heat in your body that had been sated just moments before. But it helped that you could feel both of their cocks twitching and hardening against your hips while their hands buried in each other’s hair.

Since you didn’t want to ruin the moment for either of them, but you also couldn’t remain still, not with your pussy pulsing desperately for attention, you slipped your hand between your legs. You trailed your fingers through the mess of wetness dripping from your cunt, pushing both men’s come back into your hole as you watched your boyfriend make out with his best friend in front of you.

You must’ve made a sound—or your thoroughly sopping wet pussy did—because Bucky and Steve finally pulled away from each other. Your boyfriend’s gaze dropped immediately to where you were fingering yourself, chuckling a low, filthy laugh.

“Looks like our girl doesn’t appreciate being left out, Stevie,” Bucky commented, using his grip on Steve’s hair to tilt his best friend’s head down to look at your cunt.

You spread your thighs, showing the men how you were using your fingers to push their combined releases back into your cunt, letting out a wanton moan as you watched their eyes darken further with desire. 

“Mm,” Steve rumbled in agreement, flicking his gaze back up to Bucky’s. “Think we should do something about that, Buck?” he asked, humor in his tone. “After all, our girl’s been so good for us today.”

You whined a little at that, agreeing without words as you shoved a second finger into your well-used cunt, trying to sate some of the desire that was burning through your body with a renewed hunger. 

“That she has,” Bucky agreed, still talking to Steve like you weren’t even there. Something about that—about both of them ganging up on you, made you hotter, wetter, and your thighs fell open even further. 

Before you could take a breath deep enough to let out another whine, Bucky was rolling over and grabbing some lube from the bedside table and tossing it to Steve. Then the boys were hauling you up from the bed and arranging you on your knees between them, your back to Steve’s chest. 

He was firm and steady behind you, his heart beating against your spine with just as much excitement as you felt in your belly. 

You could feel Steve messing around with the lube, but your attention was solely on Bucky, who was pumping his thick cock in his fist. You could still see the sheen of your release on his thick length, but you didn’t have time to appreciate that when he was pulling you onto his lap. Bucky impaled your pussy on his cock, shifting your weight to lay against his chest so Steve could spread your ass.

Steve’s cock pressed against your tight rosebud and both men used their hands to soothe your body and urge you to relax for them. Bucky cooed praises in your ear, telling you what a good girl you were for him and Steve. Your boyfriend caught your lips in a lazy kiss while Steve worked his cock into your ass, huffing and puffing the whole time.

“Fuck, I can feel you inside her, Buck,” Steve wheezed when he was fully seated inside you. His head dropped to your shoulder, pressing kisses along your back while the three of you got used to the feeling of being joined together. “She’s so fucking tight.”

You could practically hear the muscle in Steve’s jaw pop as he gritted his teeth. His cock twitched in your ass, making both you and Bucky moan. It felt so perfect, having them both inside you, filling you. You didn’t think you would ever get enough of having Bucky and Steve inside you at the same time, overwhelming you as they pressed you between their broad bodies.

“Mm, you’re making her tighter, Stevie,” Bucky murmured against your lips. Then he pulled back so he could look into your eye. “You doing ok, baby?” he asked, checking in with you. His eyes were filled with concern, but it wasn’t warranted.

“Sooo good,” you moaned, your voice drenched in pleasure and a dazed smile curling your lips, “feel sooo full.” 

You swayed a little, and your hands searched for something to grab onto, finding Bucky’s hand with one and Steve’s with the other. Their fingers laced with yours, their other hands on either side of your hips, holding you between them. 

You couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect and right it felt to be with them, before your thoughts were scattering at the sensation of them shifting inside you. A broken moan fell from your lips.

“I don’t think she’s gonna last much longer, Stevie,” Bucky warned, his voice a low rumble, his hips beginning to rock and fuck you on his cock. 

Steve huffed a laugh, rolling his hips in tandem with Bucky. “I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer, Buck,” he rasped. “Our girl’s ass is so fucking tight, I feel like I could blow any second.”

You whined at the comment, unable to form the words to protest that idea, and Bucky immediately understood your distress. 

“Don’t worry, baby, we’d never get off without getting you off first,” he assured you, ducking forward for a quick kiss as your bodies writhed together.

At the same time, both Bucky and Steve’s hands slid down between your thighs. There was a moment of hesitation from both men, and you could practically feel them exchanging a look over your shoulder, but then their fingers slotted together, the tips finding your clit. 

You didn’t know which of them was rubbing you or if they both were—and you didn’t care. You just felt the burst of pleasure bloom from between your thighs and spread in a warm wave through your body. Your head fell back on Steve’s shoulder as you rocked between their firm, muscular bodies, their cocks filling you up so much you felt like they were imprinting themselves on your soul.

Though it was difficult with how tired you were, you kept your eyes cracked open, staring at Bucky and Steve, a part of you wishing they’d kiss again—knowing they both wanted to. But instead, they kept exchanging heated glances, their gazes darting from you to each other.

Still, their hands curled together against your pussy as they fucked you and got you off together. You squeezed their hands in your own and they smiled, first at each other, then at you. You could feel something building between the three of you. Not just your pleasure, but something deeper, a bond that you knew was going to be the foundation of your new life together.

Spurred by Bucky and Steve’s cocks and their fingers on your clit, your release rolled over you like the crashing of a thunderstorm, shaking you to your core. The tightening of your body pushed both men over the edge at the same time, and they grunted and groaned their pleasure as the three of you rode out your releases together.

That time, when you collapsed to the bed, you were all finally fully sated. 

Soft words and praises were exchanged as the three of you cleaned up in the bathroom, Bucky and Steve taking turns washing you in the shower before they scrubbed off themselves. 

When you were towel dried and clad in one of Bucky’s t-shirts, Steve left the suit to grab his things from the room he’d also booked in the hotel. You’d grumbled at that, not wanting him to leave even for a moment, but Bucky distracted you with a kiss while Steve ducked out.

While Steve was gone, Bucky used the opportunity to wrap you up in his arms and ask if you were ok with everything that had happened. 

“Bucky,” you murmured, rolling onto your back on the bed, pulling him with you so his head lay on your chest and your legs tangled together. “I’m more than ok—everything we did tonight feels right. Didn’t it?” 

Bucky hummed in thought as you raked your nails through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp in the way you knew he liked. “Yeah, it did,” he admitted after a moment. You could feel his smile through the cotton of your shirt a moment before he lifted up, his mouth finding yours in a slow, sweet kiss. 

When he moved back to lay on your chest, he squeezed you tight, murmuring his love for you into your sternum, right above your beating heart. You carded your fingers through his hair, trailing them over his bare shoulders since he’d only put on a pair of boxer briefs to sleep in.

By the time Steve returned, you and Bucky were half asleep, laying entwined in the bed that was more than big enough for the three of you. Still, Steve paused at the edge of the bed, wearing his own pair of boxer briefs, and looked at the two of you as if unsure whether he should join you.

“Room for one more?” Steve asked, and you could hear the hesitance in his voice. 

A soft smile curved the corners of your mouth and you took a second to look at Steve. He was just as handsome in the dim light of the hotel suite as he’d been in the bright sunshine on Hollywood Boulevard, but you felt more than just excitement seeing him. 

You may not have loved him—yet—but you knew you could love Steve just as much as you loved Bucky. And you suspected Bucky’s feelings for his best friend were well on their way there already. 

Steve wasn’t just some Hollywood heartthrob to you anymore, or even just your boyfriend’s best friend. He was yours, and Bucky’s, just like you and Bucky were his.

Raising your arm to gesture Steve into bed, a giggle slipped from your lips when you realized you and Bucky had reached for him at the same time. 

“There’s plenty of room for one more, Stevie,” Bucky rumbled, beckoning his best friend to get into bed. 

“Yeah, Stevie, come cuddle,” you said, laughter making your voice lighter. 

Steve shot you both one of his devastatingly charming smiles and then he was crawling into the bed and sliding beneath the covers. He curled into your side, laying his head beside yours on the pillow and the three of you finally settled down. 

Before sleep pulled you under, you felt Steve and Bucky lace their fingers together against your hip, their hands holding onto each other as they both held onto you. With a happy smile on your face, you fell asleep, looking forward to starting the new day with Bucky and Steve. 

There wasn’t just room for one more in the bed—there was room for one more in your life with Bucky, and you were so happy to have Steve join you both.

[espinosaurusrexex]

Watchful Eyes

CEO!SteveRogers x Female!Maid!Reader AU

read Bucky's story here

summary: When your best friend gets you a new job, cleaning the apartment of the most successful man in New York City, you don't hesitate to accept. The pay is more than good, and the man himself is better than any eye candy you have ever seen. Unbeknownst to you, you've caught his attention just as much. Steve can't keep his mind off you, so much so, that he drives everyone around him insane with his grumpiness when you aren't around. It seems like he has to take matters into his own hands when he realizes, you're too shy to take things further yourself.

a/n: So that just happened... I don't know where it came from, but please enjoy. (Please don’t be discouraged by the word count - I promise you it’s worth it and I kindly ask you to at least try 💛)

word count: 10.8k

warnings: power differences, Steve is pining, watching someone over secret livestream (is this stalking?), women being referred to as objects (not by Steve), just so much fluff, and also angst (there is a happy ending!), smut (masturbation - m, praise kink, oral - f receiving, dirty talk, orgasm control, overstimulation, unprotected p in v, size kink, breeding kink) !MINORS DNI!

ﾟ✫ 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ✶ 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒐𝒏 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*･ﾟ𝒄.𝒂𝒊 ｡✭･ﾟ

“Can you start Monday?”

“I can start Monday.”

“Perfect.”

Holy fuckidy fuck fuck. 

You had a job. A job that would crinkle some noses but it would pay money. Good money actually. Well, better than other offers in the branch.  

It had been luck, really. Because during one drunken night, which had originally been dedicated to drowning yourself in self-pity over the last job that had let you go due to staff cuts, your friend Natasha had crashed your party with Chinese food and gossip from her workplace. She was an assistant for one of the CEO’s of Shield Protection Services. And during her lunch with Sharon, the other assistant, Sharon had complained about Steve Rogers and how he had fired the third maid this month because they, apparently, were taking pictures of his home or selling some of his things. 

There might have been some talk about how picky and stuck up he could be but the important info was that Sharon was desperate at this point and had asked Nat if she knew anyone with the decency not to breach privacy and willingness to clean the CEO’s home. 

The good thing - or bad thing, you weren’t sure - was, Nat knew you were desperate too. So she gave Sharon your number and before you knew it, you were an employed woman again. 

❁ ❁ ❁

It was too early for you to be roaming the streets of New York, but you had gotten instructions and so you had gotten up at 6 and headed out to the address. And when you arrived, it felt as though it was the first time you blinked since the subway - you were that tired. Definitely not a morning person.  

The building was huge, tall glass fronts stretching into the sky and the ride up to the penthouse took longer than your average elevator rides did. 

The doors opened and revealed a beautiful open floor plan. A whole wall of windows brought natural light into the place and offered a view so breathtaking, it took you a moment to collect yourself. The place was ginormous - a lot to clean up - but seemed tidy enough to at least get started right away. 

You placed your bag on the counter by the kitchen and took more of the place in when suddenly, a voice startled you. 

“Who are you?” You whipped around, big eyes searching for the source until they landed on a tall man standing in what seemed to be a dining area - well, one of them at least. He had broad shoulders, neatly styled hair and one of those toothpaste smiles you only ever saw in magazines. He was wearing office attire, blue dress pants that slightly stretched over his muscled thighs, and when your head wandered back up his body, piercing blue eyes seemed to stare right into your soul. 

Holy Shit. 

Before you stood Steve Rogers, three-time Forbes Magazine cover story, young entrepreneur turned filthy-rich hunk of a man, and CEO of the most successful security firm in this country. And he was talking to you - staring at you... waiting for an answer. 

Talking, you needed to start talking, you reminded yourself.

“I’m the new maid, sir. I’m so sorry I was told to come here at 7 as you leave for work before that.”

Mr. Rogers looked at you with an unintelligible stare. Meanwhile, you were nervously wringing your hands in the doorway, looking down. You hadn’t planned for anyone important to see you today. The worn-down Fleetwood Mac shirt you didn’t mind getting bleach on hanging over some pants you pulled from the back of your closet definitely wasn’t the kind of outfit you expected to greet Steve Rogers in. Great start. This was going awful.

“Well I’m here aren’t I?” His arms folded before his chest as his eyebrow raised, impressive biceps bulging beneath the white button-up, and - damn - it was hard not to stare. 

“Right. Yes. Sorry. I’ll come back later.” You turned to leave again but he stopped you.

“No need. I am on my way out.” The left corner of his mouth twitched into a cheeky grin when he grabbed his bag, left the newspaper discarded on the table, and placed his coffee mug in the sink. Interesting.

“Don’t snoop.” He whispered teasingly as he passed you, a whiff of expensive cologne paralyzing your senses and you weren’t sure if he was making a suggestion or actually warning you. That damn perfume seemed to hypnotize you. 

Your eyes followed his broad shoulders until they disappeared behind the corner and then the elevator doors shut. It seemed to take all the tension from your face. You exhaled long and then began to look around some more.

The place was huge, you’d already established that. But when you found the third bedroom amongst the private office and Pool table room, you knew you had to make a weekly plan to work off. You had to give Mr. Rogers credit, though. There was rarely any clutter lying around - it wasn’t dirty per se - just had the usual dust you’d expect in a place this size with only one person living in it. 

You huffed, resting your hand on your hips once you completed the tour. And then you got started. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve peered up from his computer screen when Bucky strolled through the doors of his office. A coffee in hand he had most likely tweaked from his assistant's desk on the way here, he shot a grin to his oldest friend and business partner. 

“What ya doing, punk?” The brunette asked teasingly when he circled the desk and settled on the window sill behind Steve. 

“Just making sure things stay in order.” He leaned back and turned around slightly, just in time to see his friend nod knowingly.

“Heard Nat got you a new maid.” Bucky dipped his chin towards the laptop still open on the desk. “That her?”

His eyes wandered to the screen where a live feed of his apartment streamed you changing his bedsheets. He hummed in agreement. 

“She’s pretty,” Bucky commented before sipping his coffee again and Steve felt an unfamiliar feeling bubble in his stomach. “But I bet you don’t care anyway. You’re all ‘don’t sell my stuff’ and ‘having things stolen from a security firm CEO is embarrassing’. Wouldn’t know a pretty thing like that if it climbed you.”

“Because it is embarrassing. And I highly recommend you monitor your staff to make sure they don’t do the same.” Of course, Steve knew you were ‘pretty’. Exactly his type, to be honest. He had noticed it the second you stepped into his apartment this morning. The way your hands wrung beneath you. And he had shot you a teasing remark in hopes of discovering a sassy fire in those timid doe eyes of yours. But you had stumbled over your words like a fawn.

Bucky clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Nonsense. Peggy is great - and too old to even carry anything valuable out of my place. I trust her with my life and house keys.” And then he pushed off the sill. “I think it’s time for you to get laid again. And that’s why I’m a great friend and organized dinner and drinks with Tony and Sam tonight.”

Steve fell back in his chair, hands over his eyes. “I don’t need your wing-maning me. I’m perfectly fine on my own.” 

“Sure.”

“I’m serious, Buck.”

“You can thank me later.” He stout towards the door. “You know... after you’ve been devoured by the pretty little waitress at the Ironbar.” Bucky winked before his face disappeared again. 

Steve just huffed as his eyes landed back on the weekly report on his desk and then swayed back to his computer screen. 

As unwilling as he was to admit it, it had been some time since his last late-night rendezvous. And as he saw you crawl up on his bed to place the bedsheets properly along his mattress, he felt his pants tighten slightly. 

❁ ❁ ❁

“We’ll get one more round of the good stuff.” 

“Of course Mr. Stark.” Tony winked and patted his waitress’s butt before she stalked away on her high heels and towards the locked glass cabinet behind the bar. 

Steve had designed it himself, a fiberglass shrine-like display for ridiculously expensive liquors, only to be opened by a passcode that got regenerated every week. He watched as Betty - the young and lanky waitress - retrieved a crystal bottle of whiskey and filled four glasses with the golden liquid. 

“God, I love that thing,” Tony sighed next to Steve and watched Betty with a satisfied smile.

“You better be talking about that cabinet, Stark.” Steve shook his head with a frown only to receive a wink from Tony, who was sitting closest to him at the round table. 

“So...” Bucky leaned over to Steve and spoke in a hushed voice. “You see anything you like?” He gestured at the bar where Tony’s carefully picked waitresses passed with filled and emptied glasses and bottles. They were all wearing tight black t-shirts and skirts or shorts that counted just as scandalous. One could foolishly mistake this place for a Hooters if Tony hadn’t made it one of the most pristine bars in all of New York City. 

It was popular amongst the clientele which mainly consisted of bored rich men that came here to get something to look at without being judged for it. But Steve wasn’t feeling the girls today. When Betty shoved her breasts in his field of view, all he could think about was how he had never gotten the idea to get his maids a uniform that catered to his... liking. And when Betty swayed her hips on her way to the bar, his thoughts became clouded by the image of you in a short little skirt, riding up just a little to tease I’m about what was hidden underneath when you kneeled on his bed to get the sheets sorted. 

Steve adjusted his pants at the little flashback, clearing his throat and sitting up straighter in his seat. 

“Oh, apparently you have...” Bucky grinned before his eyes hushed down to Steve’s crotch and back up just as fast. “Well then,” he leaned back with a satisfied grin. “Which one is it? Samatha? Tiffany? Though I think Megan is more your type.” 

“Just shut up, punk.”

“Okay you don’t have to tell me me... either way, my job here is done.” He brushed his hands off fake dust and smiled smugly. “You better be in a good mood tomorrow.” 

Steve just huffed and waited for Betty to come back with ‘the good stuff’ to hopefully drown out his annoying friends for the rest of the night. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them. No, he would do anything for the people he chose to have in his life. The group he found himself in right now had been through thick and thin with him, stayed through his fame and fortune, and was just as supportive before it had all happened to either of them. He was happy having the guys because they built each other up and aimed for greatness - together, they were fucking invincible. 

But sometimes, Steve felt a little out of place amongst Bucky and Tony. It was in situations regarding women most of all because he could never adapt the attitude to talk about them the way they did. And he never had the headspace to juggle as many as they did. He had tried the one-night stands. But he struggled to navigate the superficial pleasure maze New York City provided in masses. Because just as the ever-passing smiles on the streets, it wasn’t fulfilling enough for Steve. At least not in the way it was for his friends. 

He wanted what Sam had. A partner, a family, something constant and beautiful. And that was, why he found himself asking for pictures of Sam’s kids and nephews rather than listen to Tony’s latest bed bunny endeavor whenever the conversations took a turn in that direction. 

“Earth to Rogers,” Sam’s finger snapped in front of Steve’s face. “What this I’m hearing? You got a new maid? What happened to the old one?”

“She sold his stuff on Craigslist.” Bucky snorted and took a sip of the drink that had magically appeared in front of them. 

“You aren’t serious.” 

“I really liked that tie,” Steve grumbled into his cup. 

“Man, I’m glad I don’t have to deal with things like that. You rich people really are a different breed.” 

“You’re rich, too, Sam.” 

Sam just smiled above his crystal glass, having fun with the little joke he liked to pull for ages now. He wasn’t any less successful than any of the other men at their table. But other than them, he had settled in a beautiful neighborhood - despising the concrete jungle each of the other guys lived in. His house felt like home, like a cozy place that had seen love and time and nothing like the polished and sleek man caves the rest of them owned.

“Well, anyways, my amazing assistant organized him a new one, the prettiest thing - really. But he’s refusing to see it.” 

Tony chuckled. “Well, that's Rogers in a nutshell, isn’t it.” 

Sam just pursed his lips and glanced over at Steve with a soft smile, ignoring the comments of the other guys. They never explicitly talked about it, but Sam was a smart man, and it would have surprised Steve, had he not already figured out that he was more of a family man than their friends were as of right now. 

“To new maids that aren’t selling your clothes on the internet then.” He raised his drink and winked at Steve once their glasses clinked. 

And Steve? He visibly exhaled, silently thanking Sam for pulling the tension out of their conversation. 

❁ ❁ ❁

It had been a little over a week. And so far, things had been going great. 

By now, you had cleaned through the entire place once and set up a plan of what to do on which day. You weren’t surprised it actually took a full 6 days to cover every single room in Mr. Rogers’s apartment. You had already figured out which tasks were going to be your favorite and which weren’t. Like his bedroom. You liked doing that. Because even though the sheets were a bitch to get on the ginormous bed, you kind of liked the smell the room had. His pillows smelled of the cologne you couldn’t forget ever since the man had brushed past you on your very first day.

You were pretty sure you would never forget that since your knees literally felt like giving in at that moment.  

Today, it was bedroom day. That and the on-suite. 

With a smile on your face, you entered the apartment on the top floor, each day secretly hoping you’d catch a glimpse of the CEO before he took off to work. But even though you tried to arrive ten minutes earlier (you really couldn’t spare any more sleep for your own good), the first day remained an exception in Mr. Rogers’s daily schedule. 

You placed your bag on the stool at the open kitchen island, changed into some other shoes, and headed for the supply closet. Despite the size of the place, you actually got around pretty easily. Mr. Rogers was a very organized and neat man - you’d noticed that the first and only time you met him. So things were almost always where you’d think they would be. Which made your job just that much easier. But also prevented you from the advised ‘not snooping’ you desperately wanted to do. 

You knew better though. 

People like Steve Rogers probably had cameras installed in this place. And you would certainly not go and rummage through his underwear drawer after he had personally told you not to. Who knows what strings powerful people like him could pull. So, for the sake of not waking up on a cargo ship to Madagascar one day, you restrained yourself as much as possible. 

Of course, you didn’t stop your eyes from wandering whenever you swept the shelves in his walk-in closet or closed the drawers in his office space. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. And this girl had a nosy best friend on her back that wanted to know every little detail of her new job... and was also way too invested in celebrity gossip.

Though, as always, there was nothing out of the ordinary today - there never was. Sure, it was still exciting to see how the filthy rich lived but other than that, no scandalous collection of women’s underwear, or drug lord papers lying around. You started to believe that Steven Grant Rogers was a very boring man. Not that you could properly judge in your position, seeing as you did not really know him, but the whole being in his home seemed a little too intimate not to do so. 

So that day you finished the tasks for the day, packed your stuff, and made your way back home, hoping to see him in the morning or to at least find something more interesting than dust in his home. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve greeted the concierge of his building when he entered the marbled entree hall. With a little frown and a look at his watch, the man greeted him back before he resumed his work. 

Yes, Steve was home earlier than usual. He regularly stayed even longer than his original work schedule intended. Today, however, he was home even earlier. But after another banter with Bucky about Steve’s non-existent sex life, he couldn’t imagine making it past five in the same building as his persistent best friend. So, he fled the office and decided to work through the rest of his papers at home. 

Of course, Steve knew that Bucky only wanted the best for him. But the ways he tried to approach the supposed bothersome loneliness Steve had in his bed just weren’t for Steve. Those might have worked on Tony - hell, Tony probably invented setting his friends up with one-night-stands - but not on Steve.

He huffed and swiped some loose hairs from his forehead as the elevator dinged at the top floor. The doors opened to the window front of his penthouse apartment and Steve stepped over the threshold, immediately stopping in his tracks when he took in the scene before him. 

The vacuum was running while you were kneeling on the floor, wiping up some water he only assumed came from the vase missing next to his sofa. He would have found it rather amusing if it weren’t for the way you carried yourself today. Something wasn’t right. 

Steve knew that you weren’t usually this messy - that much he could tell from the livestream that had become a constant in his office by now. Your head hung low, your motions hurried and sloppy. He watched as you swiped the floor, one of your sleeves constantly slipping down your arm again until you angrily pushed it up further than necessary. 

It was worrisome. 

He couldn’t place the feeling he felt in his chest when he sat his briefcase down and approached you from behind. His foot carefully turned off the vacuum and then he stood still, careful not to startle you when you finally looked up at him. 

He could see it in your eyes then. The panic, the uncertainty, and something else he hadn’t seen in them before.

You looked around you as if you were seeing the mess for the first time and when Steve was still watching you with an arched brow after a minute of silence, you suddenly sprung up to your feet. 

“I am so Sorry, Mr. Rogers. I didn’t realize it was this late already.” You turned a full 360 until your eyes landed on his again. “I’ll have this cleaned up in no time and I'll be out of your way. I promise.” 

Steve watched as you scrambled to gather the vacuum cord, struggling with it when it didn’t immediately snap back into the caster. “The subway was stuck in a tunnel for an hour because some guy decided to pull the emergency break for fun. And then this lady passed out next to me and when the fire department finally got us out and the paramedics packed her in the ambulance, I realized that I still had her purse.” You finally got the cord in turning so fast that the wet rag in your hands sprayed some water on Steve. “And do you know how difficult it is to find out which hospital they’re taking people? Because it’s so much more difficult than it looks in the movies. I didn’t know that! And then it was almost 10 a.m. when I got here. I am so sorry. This won’t happen again I promise-“

“Hey,” Steve finally stepped forward and caught your flailing hands with his and it shut you up. “It’s alright.” He spoke softly, guiding your hands down and proceeding to carefully stroke your arms down. “Are you okay? Do you need a day off?” 

Your doe eyes stared up at him, round and shiny as if you couldn’t believe he was actually standing in front of you. And Steve had to admit, besides the concern breezing through his body, your face was capturing up close. He traced your lashes with his gaze, the way your lips were parted slightly, your teeth showing past your upper lip, and the way your eyebrows were raised in shock. 

“No... no, I’m fine.” You finally stammered and it made Steve relax a little. 

“Then take a breath for me, please.” You nodded and Steve watched as your shoulders moved when you inhaled with your eyes closed. It shook Steve out of his trance. He cleared his throat and retreated his hands from your arms, awkwardly standing up a little straighter now that there was no excuse to touch you anymore. 

You were fine - that’s what you had said. But you didn’t quite seem that way. 

He watched as you opened your eyes and gifted him a small smile. Then your gaze dew to the floor and the mess you were standing in. Your smile turned awkward. 

“I’ll clean this up real quick and then I’ll be out of your hair.” 

Steve shook his head with a smile. Maybe this was a nice opportunity to do as Bucky had suggested. It was true, Steve hadn’t been interested enough before. Had he taken more time to know his former maids better, he could have probably prevented his things from being stolen and sold. Maybe it wasn’t exactly what Bucky had meant by ‘interested’, but Save decided it would do for now. “You can do what you need to and you can take as much time as you need to. I’ll be in my office for some time, so please don’t rush. I didn’t mean to freak you out by coming home earlier.” 

His arms reached up to scratch the back of his neck and your eyes landed on his bicep. Those damn doe eyes. “O- okay.”

He nodded, buried his hands in his pockets, gifted you a tight-lipped smile, and then proceeded to grab his briefcase and disappear into his office at the end of the hall. 

After some time, he heard the vacuum pick back up. Steve peaked through his open office door and caught a glimpse of you roaming his living room every now and then. It was relieving to know that you were functioning again. You had him worried for a second there - a feeling the successful CEO hadn’t welcomed in a hot minute. But it was kind of nice, made him feel a little more human than usual. So he didn’t mind having you work while he was home. On the contrary, actually, even though he had a huge stack of papers to go through, having to do them with a little bit of white noise was much more efficient than he had thought. He liked it when the occasional sound of items being set down snook its way to his office just to be interrupted by the vacuum again. And before he knew it, the workload he had taken home with him today, was worked through. 

Steve made his way to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. Though, as he waited for the machine, he found himself leaning against the counter and watching you work in front of him. You were currently bent over the sofa, arranging the cushions after shaking them out, your shirt riding up ever so slightly and exposing a strip of skin on your back. 

The fresh grounding of coffee beans covered the way Steve gulped loudly at the sight of you in front of him. This was definitely different than watching on his laptop screen. He felt his pants tighten ever so slightly as he imagined walking up to you and just taking you from behind. Your face would press into the pillows as he would easily push into you, hearing your drawn-out moans through the cushions. 

He couldn’t help himself, you were just so pretty. 

The smell of coffee drew Steve back to reality. It wasn’t that simple. Because Steve wanted you to want him as well. But you didn’t know him well enough yet. 

You pulled the vacuum around the corner and seconds later the sound of the storage room door closing echoed through the apartment. You walked back into the living room, adjusted the book on his coffee table, and then looked at your work with your hands on your hips. It was kind of cute to watch, Steve had to admit. 

“Well done,” Steve praised and your shoulders jerked in surprise. 

“Woah, didn’t see you there, Sir.” You relaxed again and then moved to change your shoes, before packing the other pair in your bag. You looked like you were about to leave, but Steve didn’t want that. 

“Would you like some coffee?” He offered and turned to grab the mug that was just filled with the steaming hot beverage. 

But you shook your head, raising your hands. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude. I’m sure you’ve got work to do...”

“I wouldn’t have asked if it were an inconvenience.” 

You looked down and nodded, which made Steve smile and hand you the cup. Your hands encased it like it was a cold winter's day, timid looks roaming the room and landing everywhere but him. 

“You seem uncomfortable,” he tried, cautious not to intrude. 

“I’m not. It’s just that... I’m not used to,” you gestured around the kitchen, “all this.” 

“I know it sounds stupid but sometimes I feel the same.” Steve took in the high ceilings and shiny surfaces, the expensive paintings and furniture he had no part in picking out.

You just stared at him again before nodding and averting your eyes once more. It seemed like you were holding back, but Steve didn’t feel like he was in the position to ask. So he just had to do with your fleeting glances and diffident presence. It was fine for now. Though he didn’t know if he could actually stand it for long. 

“You got this job through Bucky’s assistant, right?”

“Natasha, yes. She’s my best friend.” Your eyes lit up and Steve celebrated the little victory in silence. He had finally found something to talk about with you. 

“How long have you known each other?” He took a sip of his own coffee, acting indifferent, though his gaze hung on your lips. 

“We’ve been friends since high school. But then we went to different colleges and for a moment, we lost contact. But when I called her after graduation, we reconnected. We coincidentally both moved to New York. It’s nice to have her back.”

“That does sound nice. I know a thing or two about reconnecting with old friends.” Steve smiled reminiscent. 

“Right, your business partner. Mr. Barnes.” You set your mug down when Steve shot you a surprised look. “Sorry, but it’s hard not to know things about you when every tabloid in the country has covered your story.”

Steve nodded, being reminded once again how different his life was now. Not that he didn’t appreciate it... it just used to be simpler. 

“Yes, Bucky is my oldest friend... we’d lost contact in-between as well. Now we spend so much time together, I sometimes wish it was that way again.”

“You don’t mean that,” you laughed and Steve swore it was the prettiest he’d ever heard. 

“Of course not.” He set his cup down once he noticed that you had finished your coffee and had grabbed your bag from the stool. 

“I should go,” you smiled sadly and Steve just nodded with a similar expression on his face. Then he pushed off the counter and walked you to the elevator. He caught your small wave before the doors closed, leaving his stomach feeling warm and fuzzy. 

This was definitely new.

❁ ❁ ❁

The next week was pure torture. 

Steve couldn’t work from home like he had wanted to. He also couldn’t go to work later to at least catch a ‘good morning’ from you. 

It had only lasted a couple more days. He had managed to trap you for a conversation with coffee two times after the first one and then it all went downhill from there. 

Steve’s work seemed to pile up in unusual amounts of papers on his desk. His e-mails and meetings were longer than ever and his frustrations built with every new message Sharon redirected to his phone.

It wasn’t until Bucky pointed out how unusually grumpy he was, that Steve realized, he missed you. How could that have happened? He barely knew you and talked to you even less than that. But he knew he was missing you. Because as silly as it sounded, the time he spent with you, he was more relaxed than ever before. 

“I’m headed home, now. Do you need anything before I go?” Sharon popped her head through the door of Steve’s office after the knock she placed there. 

Steve just sighed as he closed one of a dozen tabs on his computer. Then he shook his head. “See you tomorrow.”

“Bright and early!” She beamed and Steve just waved her off. 

The door fell shut once again and Steve moved to close a second tab. The one open beneath was the video footage of his home. It was paused because Steve had categorized it as ‘not suited for work’ once he saw you climb on his bed to straighten out the sheets and his dick reminded him just how deprived he really was. 

Looking at the paused video now, his pants tightened again. There you were, on all fours on his bed, tugging the sheet under the headboard side of his mattress - ass up and struggling. Fucking hell. 

His hand instinctively moved to his crotch to relieve some tension and then his eyes fell to his office door. Sharon had gone home. He was likely the only one left. His gaze wandered back to his computer screen and before he knew it, he was rubbing his hard cock through his pants. 

He groaned lowly at the feeling spreading through his body, the image on his screen just intensifying the scenarios he usually imagined when he got himself off. Because now they had your face. And your perfect body. If he squinted at the screen, he could actually see a sliver of your underwear peaking out the top of your pants. 

“Jesus Christ,” He pushed through his teeth when his hands worked to open his belt and pulled his rock-hard length out. He was already leaking from the angry red tip. 

His thumb grazed over his sensitive flesh, spreading the beads of precum and his whole body shivered when he imagined you doing it instead. His knees spread further apart in his office chair as he squeezed the base of his cock, concentrating on his breathing to slow. And then, without thinking, his other hand moved to play the video. 

Steve’s eyes never left the screen as he watched you tug the sheets tight. Your ass bounced up and down with the motion and he began to pump his shaft, imagining pushing into you from behind. Then you crawled back slowly, careful not to pull the sheet off again, but one corner came loose anyway. As you leaned forward, your new position seemed even more obscene - with your arms stretched forward and your ass still slightly lifted off the mattress. 

Steve’s fist pumped harder up and down his cock, he was panting. He could already feel the orgasm building. His balls were on the edge of bursting - but he wanted to hold out a little longer. 

For a second, his gaze jumped to the little speaker icon at the bottom right corner of his screen. His right hand still pumping with a tight grip, the left moved to slightly turn up the volume on the stream. 

Just then, you released a frustrated groan, followed by a throatier, softer noise that could almost be mistaken for a moan and Steve lost it. His fist stroked his thick cock in hard fast motions, the tingle in his body building with every heavy breath you released. His thumb grazed over his tip when you fell forward like a fawn and it was enough to make him burst. 

He closed his eyes and threw his head back on the chair. With a last firm push, he tumbled over the edge, squeezing his flesh as he felt the hot ropes of cum cover his hand. His heart beat in his ears once the ecstasy subsided, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths.  

Steve stared at the ceiling, sighing in defeat. He was in deep now. 

❁ ❁ ❁

“So... how’s it going?” Nat’s voice rang through your speaker and you pressed your phone a little harder to your ear to hear her over the street noises. 

“It’s going really good. I don’t see him that often but he’s not messy at all, so it’s really not that bad.”

“Good, I’m glad!” Nat cheered on the other end of the line and you could hear her computer keys clicking beneath her fingernails. “Anything you wanna tell me?” Her tone was suggestive, and you kind of hated how well she knew you. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on, we’re stating the obvious here. He’s hot!”

“Nat!” You gasped appalled. “I’m not going around asking you if you think your boss is hot.”

“Why not? I'm not ashamed to admit it. My boss is hot,” she stated plainly and shorty after a distant ‘You got that right, doll!’ was heard through your speaker. 

“Oh my god,” you muttered, watching around you as if anyone could hear what Nat was saying. 

“So...?”

“Okay, yes he’s super hot and I wish he would just grab me with his big muscled arms and kiss the life out of me every time I see him. Are you happy now?”

“Yes, very.”

You waved at the concierge when you reached Mr. Roger’s apartment building and then stepped into the elevator. “Good. I can’t believe I just made me say that out loud.”

“We both know it’s true. No shame in a little crush.” You could practically hear her grin through the phone and it just annoyed you even more. How could she call you out when she was a mile away?

“Great, now I’m actually imagining kissing him and running my hands down his chest,” You huffed as the elevator door opened and turned the corner just to stop in your tracks. 

“I knew it!”

“Nat, I’ll call you later.”

“Okay, but-“ and then you ended the call as your eyes were glued to the kitchen counter. 

You stepped closer, your eyes never leaving where they had landed upon your arrival. There, on the polished black marble, stood a vase with a beautiful bouquet of pastel flowers. 

Your breath hitched in your throat as your fingers traced the colorful petals, and you leaned in to smell them. This was so sweet! A little giddiness shot through your body at the sight of the flowers. You’d never expected them from Mr. Rogers and it was nice to be appreciated. 

Feeling excitement all over, your fingers reached for the little white card lodged between a eucalyptus branch. But when you turned it over, all of it fell like someone had turned on gravity again. 

Happy one month!

Your mind repeated the words over and over again until they registered.

Happy one month.

You dropped the card and it made a dull clicking noise on the counter. How could you have been so naïve? Nat had put this stupid haze in your brain, getting you all giddy and excited. Of course, he had a fucking girlfriend. How could he not? He was Steve fucking Rogers.

You needed to take a step back and breathe. Those were a few too many emotions to feel in the early morning for you. Now you even felt guilty about wanting to run your fingers down his body. God, you’d even said it out loud - how embarrassing! 

“Okay, girl. Relax. Nobody heard,” you reminded yourself out loud. And then you took a deep breath with your eyes closed. 

“It’s not embarrassing if nobody saw. I’m the only one that can decide the level of awkwardness here.” Maybe stop talking to yourself then. You nodded and carefully placed the card back in the bouquet. 

“This never happened,” you whispered, more so to ensure yourself. “Just move on with your day.” 

Thank god it wasn’t kitchen day - you wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of those flowers any longer.

With your shoulders pulled back and your head held high, you made your way to the supply closet and got to work. 

It’s just another day. You reminded yourself when you pulled your cleaning supplies out and into the office. 

Just like any other day...

❁ ❁ ❁

Boy, had you never been any more wrong. 

Your phone rang at 7.30 that evening. You had already made yourself comfortable on your sofa, ready to binge a whole season of Gilmore Girls, after a successful day of pretending you hadn’t gotten the biggest turn-down of the century this morning. You had finished your cleaning plan, you had gone grocery shopping, bought yourself some own damn flowers, and even showered all before the sun had set. 

But now your phone rang and the caller ID could not mean anything good. 

“Hello?”

“Good evening!” Your name echoed through the speaker of your phone, a - for your taste - way too cheery woman on the other end. “I am very sorry I have to call so late. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“That’s alright, what do you need?” You bit your lip nervously, only dreading the next words of Mr. Rogers’s assistant.

“Well, actually it is not I that needs anything. Mr. Rogers requested for you to see him. Is that possible?”

“What? When?”

“Now would be amazing.” Your eyes widened at her words. Mr Rogers wanted to see you and it couldn’t wait until tomorrow? You must have done something horribly wrong. Oh, god, had he noticed you messed with the flowers? Had he seen you sniff his pillows? All possible scenarios of wrongdoing swarmed your head when you sprung up and bolted for your closet. 

“I can be there in thirty minutes,” you hurried through the speaker just to receive a satisfied hum from the other end. 

“Amazing! Thank you so much.”

She had hung you before you could even answer. It didn’t matter. You looked through your clothes, trying to decide what an appropriate ‘getting fired’ outfit would consist of - probably no sweatpants, so you could find the closest bar and drink your sorrows away in connection to the dreaded talk. 

You pulled out something, you could see yourself crying in and headed for the door.

❁ ❁ ❁

8.00 pm on the dot, the elevator doors opened to reveal a beautiful New York Skyline. Unfortunately, you neither had the headspace, nor the time to appreciate it properly. As soon as you turned the corner you saw Mr. Rogers casually leaning on the kitchen island. 

Instantly, you felt intimidated. He had never done anything to make you feel scared or in danger, but his mere presence was so powerful, you didn’t quite know how to act around him. Especially, because on top of it all, he was the most attractive man you’d ever laid your eyes on. 

“What did I do?” It just sprung out of you, your arms wanted to hug your body but you willed them still. He didn’t need to see how worried you really were. 

To your surprise, however, his face scrunched up in amusement instead. He pushed himself off the counter and gestured towards the flowers still standing proud on that polished marble top. 

“You forgot your flowers.”

“My... my flowers?” He nodded with a small frown, probably confused by your reaction. And to be honest, you were too. 

“Yes... I got you flowers. You’ve officially been working here for a month. That’s a record.” He shook his head with a chuckle and then rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m... very picky.”

His eyes met yours and a whole new wave of uncertainty washed over you. You didn’t miss the hesitation in his tone, the carefully chosen wording for something he didn’t exactly say. 

“So, I’m not fired.” God, why did it take so long for you to register. You just looked so stupid right now. 

“On the contrary.” Mr. Rogers took a step closer, though still keeping a respectable distance. “I think I can trust you. I’m very pleased with your work. You deserve them.”

“I do?” You looked up at him with big eyes when he took another step closer. He was so tall, you had to tilt your head up now that he was so near. 

“Can I trust you?”

His chest would almost touched you, if you were to breathe any heavier. Your breath hitched in your throat when the faint remains of his perfume reached your nose. It was as intoxicating - the way his eyes stared down at you - intense and looming. “Ye- Yes.”

“Good.” His voice was a raw timbre. His gaze drifted to the side, where his hand slowly reached up to lay on your shoulder. You felt warm and tingly from the touch. 

Not knowing what to do exactly, you just held your breath and stared up at his eyes. They were so blue - and up close, they were so much more captivating than any magazine photograph could ever display. 

You wanted to touch him, reach out, and pull him down towards you, but he had just told you he trusted you. Were you really going to risk this perfectly good job for a heated moment?

His other hand came up to graze your cheek with a careful touch and the worry of losing your job suddenly became very small. Mr. Roger’s hands were warm, his fingers almost hot even compared to your heated face. 

So you did it. Your hand reached forward and landed on the top of his chest, one of them traveled down the hard plane of his torso while the other clawed at his shirt collar. His thumb traveled to your lower lip, pulling it down and then stroking over the soft flesh, touching your teeth as well. 

Guided by the heat traveling through our body, your right hand tightened around his shirt and pulled him down and onto your lips. The blonde man jerked forward until his mouth crashed onto yours, immediately moving in perfect sync with yours. 

Your insides were tingling from the kiss when you felt his lips pull into a smile. His big hands roamed your body until they snook around your back, pulling you flush against his body and making you sigh contently. 

Mr. Rogers chuckled and then kissed you deeper. His touch was everywhere, yours too. Your mind was free of anything that wasn’t the tall, built, blonde man in your arms as soon as his tongue traced your bottom lip - asking for you to let him in. And you did just that. When he began to explore your mouth, you melted even further into his embrace. 

No man had ever kissed you like that. Which was why you dreaded the moment you had to pull away for air. 

Your hand landed on his cheek, thumb softly stroking his beard, eyes locked with his. 

“You’re very good at this.”

He just chuckled and pecked your lips once more. “Up.” He demanded, suddenly, he grabbed your thighs and lifted you as if you weighed nothing. 

“What are you doing?”

“I'm gonna show you how good I am at this.” 

Then he set you down on the bed and pushed you back until your head hit the comforter. His scent, the one you’d secretly been craving ever since you started working here, engulfed you like a big blanket. He stood above you, big and broad-shouldered, looming over you like a wild animal. But you weren’t scared.

“You know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” His lips attached to your collarbone, sucking and licking bruises to your skin until you moaned beneath him and your hands clung to his hair. “I’ve been watching you,” he murmured to your neck and a shiver traveled down your spine. 

“I knew it,” you gasped when he reached a spot behind your ears that sparked more pleasure. The thought of him spending his day watching you made you all excited and impatient. 

“The way you stumble about this place when you clean it... How do you navigate the world being this clumsy, Bambi?” A whimper escaped you at the nickname he chose for you. “You need somebody to take care of you, huh.” 

You arched your back to brush up against him. His hard cock was already straining his pants, pressing into your own deliciously. “Ah, yes.”

“Don’t worry, Bambi, I’m right here. I’ll take real good care of you.” His fingers traveled down your body until they reached the hem of your jeans and began to tug on them. 

You pulled him down to your lips once more, guiding his head back to that spot behind your ear that had you squirming on the sheets. “So needy.”

His voice was so low and husky now, you barely noticed he had already worked your pants open and halfway down your legs. You kicked them off the rest of the way and arched yourself back against him just to have him grind down on your core. 

“Feel so good, so big,” you mumbled through the haze you already found yourself in. God, what was it with this man - he was out of this world. 

“You can’t wait any longer, can you, Bambi?” His hands moved beneath your shirt and began to massage your breasts. “But I get it. I don’t wanna wait any longer, either.” 

In a swift motion, he had you flipped on your stomach, his hands traveling to your hips to pull you on all fours in front of him. Then the bed dipped and you felt his fingers press to your soaked underwear. He rubbed the drenched fabric over your entrance, only driving you wild with need when his fingers reached higher to your clit. “So pretty.” 

“I need you,” you whined, “need you so bad.” 

“Believe me, I need you too.” He pulled the black lace over the curve of your ass and you felt the cool bedroom air hit your wet core, only making you shiver once more. 

“You’re so fucking perfect, you know that.” You could only whimper in response when his hand pushed your head into the comforter and his face suddenly pressed into your pussy from behind. 

“Oh, god.” A yelp escaped you as his tongue teased at your entrance, only to be pulled back to lick a long strip from your clit back to it. His hand massaged your cheeks and the constant moaning to your core shook you from the inside out. 

“This isn’t enough, is it, Bambi?” He dragged a strong finger up your spine. “You need me to fill you all the way up, don’t you? Need me to mark you, show everyone you’re mine.”

“Yes, yes, fill me up, give it all to me. Fuck me and make me yours.” You were so desperate at this point. His mouth had you squirming and aching for the promising bulge beneath his pants and you couldn’t wait to feel him raw - you’d let him do anything. 

You turned your head and watched as he unbuckled his belt. Within seconds, his cock sprung free from its restraints and your breath hitched in your throat. He was thick and long, a prominent vein running along his side up to his tip, pink and already decorated by a bead of precum. Of course, Steve Rogers had a pretty cock. What wasn’t perfect about him?

“You’re so wet already, Bambi. So ready for my fat cock, aren’t you? You’ll suck me right in, I just know it.”

“Please! I wanna feel all of you.” Another whimper got swallowed by the mattress when you waited in anticipation for him to finally fuck you. 

His one hand grabbed your ass and the other aligned his cock with your entrance. You could feel his head already breaching, a delicious stretch sending shocks through your body in hot and cold waves of pleasure. 

He groaned lowly and it sent shivers down your spine. “Relax, baby girl. You’re so tight. You’ll be so stuffed with me.”

“I need you de-. I- ah just please!”

He worked himself forward with small rocking motions, each time reaching a little deeper into your core and when you thought he was finally all the way in, he pushed even further until your ass was pressed flush to his thighs. 

You screamed into the covers and reached for something to grasp when he groaned behind you. “Gripping me like a vice, Bambi. Are you gonna be able to take it?” He shivered behind you and you could tell he was struggling to hold still until you answered him. 

“I can take it. Your big cock feels so good inside me. Oh, god, please move.”

“Fuck.” Wet noises filled the room when he drew back almost all the way, just to slam back into you. In this position the curve of his cock stroked your walls perfectly, making it hard to hold back the building orgasm. 

“I’m so close already, sir. I’m-”

“Fucking call me Steve,” he roared and pushed your face further into the covers. “You gonna come? Gonna squeeze my cock with your pretty little pussy already, huh?”

You could only whimper in response, the steady stroke of his body clouded your mind until you felt like you were floating. 

“I-“Another scream ripped through your speech when the pleasure exploded within you. Steve slowed his motions, seemingly unable to move with the way your muscles contracted around him. And when the pulsing pleasure lessened after what felt like minutes, he picked his pace back up again. 

“That was so sexy. You gonna do that again for me? I’m so fucking close.”

His hand reached around you and began to massage your clit in tight little circles and your body lifted off the bed. Steve had pulled you up flush against his chest and watched his hand work on your clit over your shoulder. 

“’S too much! Ah!” You were still pulsing around his cock with every circle he traced on your bundle of nerves, making your legs quiver.

“You’re doing so good, Bambi. You can give me another. Milk my cock dry.” He kissed your neck and bit your skin. “So fucking beautiful, how’d I get so lucky?”

“Steve!” You felt another wave of pleasure approaching, just for his fingers to still on your clit, his hand now pressing into your stomach. 

“I’m almost there, baby. Hold it a little longer.” His face fell into your neck and you could feel his cock twitch inside you while his hot breath licked down your shoulder. “Don’t you fucking cum until I say so.”

“I don’t know if I-“

“Yes, you can!” Steve pushed you until you fell onto all fours again and then guided your hips to meet his hard strokes. His movements became frantic and fast, making you lose your mind. 

“I’m gonna fill you to the brim, Bambi. Make you drip with my cum for days. You’re mine.”

“Steve! Steve!” You couldn’t hold it any longer, it was too much. He was so big, and his movements so fast, there was no way you were lasting any longer. 

“Wait. Almost there.”

“I can’t. I can’t! I’m- Oh my god!”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuck.” With one last hard slam, Steve shot his hot seed in your pussy. Your walls clenched with every lewd sound he pushed through his heavy breaths. “Cumming so much for you, Bambi. All for you. Uhnggghh.” He rutted into you a couple more times and once the intense feeling faded into lazy pulses, he fell forward and pulled you into his chest. 

Still buried deep within you, Steve pulled the covers over your bodies. Every little movement made you squirm and your pussy clench down again, drawing small grunts from the man behind you. 

“You did so good.” His hand stroked over your hair and his face nuzzled into your shoulder. “Now, rest. You deserve it.”

And with that, you let your body fall into its well-needed sleep - warm, content, and without a care for the morning.

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve woke up to the sound of his alarm. He smiled before he opened his eyes, his mind still reminiscing the night before. He felt warm and content at the thought of it. Your kiss was like nothing else.

He felt around his bed blindly after turning off the alarm only to be met by a cold mattress. Opening his eyes, he called out your name and sat up in bed. But when no answer sounded from his apartment, he got up and looked for you. After a few minutes of searching, he was sure you weren’t there. And it worried him. He had planned to order you breakfast. He wanted to talk about last night. He wanted to tell you how much it had meant to him. 

A look at the clock on his wall made him frown. Maybe you’d gone home to change for work. He decided to wait and get to work a little later today. It would all resolve itself, Steve was sure. 

But when seven rolled around, there was no sign of you. And even after another 25 minutes, there was no indication you’d show up soon. Steve really couldn’t push his time anymore. There was a lot of work waiting for him at the office. So he got up and grabbed his briefcase, only to be interrupted by his phone. 

“Good morning, Sharon.” 

“Good morning, Mr. Rogers. I’m just calling to let you know your maid just called in sick.”

“What? Until when?”

“She didn’t say. But she’ll call when she is better.”

“Do you know what she has?”

“I believe that’s private. Mr. Rogers.”

Steve just hummed absentmindedly. His brain already playing all the possibilities in his head. 

“Would you be so kind so send me her number?” He asked almost hesitantly, but still demanding enough for Sharon to agree right away. 

“Of course, one second.” And then his phone pinged with a message from his assistant. 

“Thank you.” Sharon just hummed in response and then she hung up the phone, ever the busy assistant he knew her as. 

Steve didn’t hesitate to call you right away. With every peep. His heart hammered faster in his chest. And when he was about to give up, a familiar rustling rang through his speaker. 

“Hello?”

Steve took a second to breathe and then he said your name - steady but careful. 

“Mr Rogers,” you sounded surprised, and Steve tried to suppress the sting in his heart at the sound of his last name. You had called him Steve just last night. Why’d you stop?

“Yes... I heard you’re sick. Do you need anything?” He cringed the second he said it. You obviously didn’t want anything from him given that you had fled from his apartment before he even woke up this morning. 

“No, no. I’m good thank you.” There was an awkward tension in the static connecting the two of you. But Steve didn’t understand where it came from. Had you not enjoyed last night. Had he only imagined the affection you gifted him then?

“Well... I hope you are able to come back soon.”

You huffed into the phone. “Uh, yes. Okay.”

“Alright, then. I’ll see you.”

“I’ll see you.”

And then the line went dead. And Steve couldn’t shake the feeling that you had sounded a lot colder than before...

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve had taken the next day off. His mind was too occupied to work, anyway. He had caught himself glimpsing at his video feed several times that day, even though he knew you weren’t going to show. He guessed, somehow that you would appear anyway. It didn’t happen of course.

So today, Steve had to learn to do nothing. That included not thinking of you as well. Because as much as the thought of you distracted him from work, not working wasn’t exactly the best move to get rid of his thoughts. 

First, he had tried to stay in bed until 6. That was hard enough. Then, he worked out a bit, read an article, made a smoothie - okay he ordered one - and then he sat on his sofa watching as the clock above his fireplace ticked to 7 a.m. 

It was ridiculous. If every hour would pass this slowly, he’d go insane.

His fingers taped on his thigh as he watched the seconds hand tick. He had to do something, anything. 

The moment this thought passed his mind, he heard the elevator door ‘ding’ at his level. And before he could even turn around, your bag hit the ground with a loud thud. 

Steve stood up straighter, adjusting a tie he was not wearing, but the motion had become a habit. He was excited you’d shown up - visibly well and healthy that was. 

You stared at him for a solid minute and neither of you said a word. Your stare was unintelligible to Steve. He had to admit, that he didn’t know you well enough to read into your silent conversation yet, but he wanted to - he wanted to so badly. 

His hands moved to clasp in front of him and then he cleared his throat, but as he was about to say something, you moved past him, straight to the supply closet, and then disappeared into his guest bedroom. 

He followed you before he could tell his feet to stop, halting in the doorway of the room and watching as you dusted off the tall shelves above the sideboard. 

“What are you doing?” His voice was higher than he anticipated. 

“I’m working,” you answered bluntly, moving to the next object to dust off. 

“Why?” Steve had promised to provide for you just the other night. And, yes, while he might have been hazy from the incredible pleasure you had created, he had meant every word.

You suddenly turned to him with an angry stare. “I’m working because, unlike other people, I can’t just do whatever I want and not deal with the consequences,” you spat and then turned around again. The dusting motion turned a little more aggressive and Steve felt a cold shiver run down his back. Feisty.

Though, Steve couldn’t quite place your anger. Had he said something to offend you? How did the other night play into any consequences and why the hell were you working still? You’d said it yourself, you wanted to be his. And that was all he ever wanted. It just didn’t make sense.

Steve didn’t move. He just stood there like an idiot and watched you work your anger away on the poor dusty decorations of his home. You obviously didn't want to talk to him and he had no idea what to say to you. So he just watched... and watched until at least ten minutes had gone by. 

You were at a completely different corner of the room by now, trying to grab a book to dust off, but couldn’t quite reach. Steve had been standing in the doorway this whole time so he just assumed he was blocking your way to a ladder. But he took it as an opportunity instead. 

In three Long strides, he had walked up to you, reached for the item you stretched toward, and handed it to you. And for a second there, he could see those doe eyes return to your face, staring up at him.

Maybe he had misread the situation after all because your gaze drew him in again. He slowly closed his eyes before he could reach your lips, excitement rising in his veins when he thought back to the feeling of your lips on his–

*smack*

His eyes shot open when your hand collided with his cheek, a fire flickering in your eyes that made him take a step back, holding his heated skin. 

“You don’t have to mock me, okay?! I know it’s embarrassing and it’s stupid what we did, so please don’t make this more difficult.”

“What?” Steve was baffled, hurt. 

It was stupid what we did. Your words echoed in his mind until your voice penetrated the mantra. 

“Just leave me alone. Don’t you have work to do?”

He shook his head with an aching heart. You really had no idea. You thought he had used you, made you a bed bunny like Tony or Bucky would - he’d never do that. “I called in sick. I was so... forget it.”

You resumed cleaning and Steve just stood in your way watching. His chest stung with every second he spent with his eyes glued to you, knowing what you thought of him. He couldn’t stand it. He never wanted to make you uncomfortable, much less convey he’d only use you. 

“Can I ask you a question?” You ignored him, but he could see your movements stagger for a second. “Do you really regret what we did?”

Then you paused, your eyes trained to the surface in front of you. When you finally looked at him, Steve could see the tears shimmering in them. 

“No,” you whispered softly, Steve had almost missed it had his heart not skipped a beat. 

He instinctively stepped closer to you again, though cautious not to scare you away. He’d come this far and didn’t want to mess it all up again. “Then why are you ignoring me?”

“I'm not ignoring you.” It shot out of you like a bullet. You sighed, took another breath, and set the duster down. “We don’t know each other. We live in completely different worlds. There is not one scenario in which we could exist together as anything more than... this. I know that now.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re you and I’m just the maid.” You gestured to Steve and then yourself and Steve hated the way you degraded yourself just because he had a couple dollars more in his bank account. It wasn’t right. 

He shook his head, his hand reaching out to you but dropping just before he could actually touch you, curbing into a soft fist instead. “And what if I told you that you are much more to me than that?” Now he finally dared to lay his hand on your cheek, tilting your head so he could come closer to you and still stare into your eyes. “I like you. And the night– ever since you came into my life, my days seem just so much less dull.” 

He smiled with shiny eyes, afraid your silence would last forever. “Please say something, Bambi.”

“You like me?” There was awe and disbelief in your voice and Steve wanted to kiss it away until every last doubt was erased from your mind. Whoever had made you this insecure about affection would eat his fist. 

Steve bit his lip to hide the chuckle threatening to spill. “I do.”

He slowly got lost in your eyes again. Those beautiful innocent orbs looked at him like he was a different type of special. He loved it so much. 

His gaze dropped to your lips, slightly parted and full, and then back up. And before he could lose himself in them again, your hands latched onto his collar and pulled him down toward you. 

The kiss was all tongue and teeth, need and desperation melting into sighs and tingles - he could feed off of it forever. His hands roamed your body and pressed you deeper into his. Your arms reached around his neck as your noses bumped against each other in eager anticipation. 

Nothing ever felt this right. Steve couldn’t possibly believe you’d doubted the chemistry for a second. Not when it felt like that. But he wouldn’t need to think back on it anymore now... now that he finally had you.

🫵 You cant get enough of this character? Go check out the chatbot I made for him! This way you can explore different endlings, plotlines, or just enjoy his company for a while longer 💕

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[anika-ann]

The (Un)Expected - S.R.

Type: one-shot, soulmate AU, good ol' meet-cute (soulmates meeting for the first time prompt)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader   Word Count: 8k

Summary: 

A soulmark shows the first words your soulmate will speak to you. A soulmark tells you there is the person for you out there. A soulmark tells you what to expect.

For that, Steve’s is a source of comfort and anxiety to him. You always had a complicated relationship with yours.

But maybe they will teach you a lesson in the end – that the only thing one should really expect, is the unexpected.

Warnings: brief angst, mention of cancer (not reader), canon-typical violence, mention of death (no major character), blood and injuries, language, FLUFF so take it easy on sugar before reading

A/N: written for the Community Revival Extravaganza hosted by the wonderful @stargazingfangirl18 and @labella420 . Thank you both so much for hosting and stirring life in the fandom! I loved seeing the traffic and positivity on my dash - you're doing god's work 💕

A/N 2: DIVIDER by @firefly-graphics; enjoy y'all 🥰

Steve Rogers was a sickly child.

He spent too much time to his liking in his bed – and even more time outside of it despite feeling sick for he couldn’t bear resting anymore, craving to explore the world instead – and was sneaked into a doctor’s office by his mother quite often as well. She only got him in as a favour, courtesy of her own good name – a nurse working double shifts and lending a helping hand wherever she could, a single mother working herself to a bone to take care of and set example to her only son.

A single mother, a nurse, a good person – a beautiful soul. She left this world too soon, but she left an imprint on Steve’s heart larger than any other person, perhaps besides Bucky, ever could.

All that told him, even as indirectly, that his soulmate would be one special dame. She would be kind, she would be brilliant and for that alone, he knew she would be beautiful.

Steve knew that as soon as he could read, as soon as he could decipher the words on his skinny forearm.

In a world where first words your soulmate would tell you were laced into your skin for you and your soulmate’s eyes to see only, his words told him his soulmate was a little miracle.

'I’m not a doctor yet.'

Steve had spent a fair amount of time around nurses and doctors to know that all nurses were women and the overwhelming majority of doctors were men – by the time he was ten, barely a few women were allowed to attend medical schools, let alone graduate. But you, you would be on your way to reach that. Brilliant. Driven. Desiring to help people, to heal.

It was only when other children, other guys and girls alike, began laughing at him for being too little, too weak, too bony, when his heart began to ache for a different reason than illness. If you were to be all these amazing things he had dreamed of, what were you to do with a sickly fella like him? With your words to him being these, it was a fair assumption to make that you would meet due to his health issues, perhaps a smart dame taken under a more experienced doctor’s wing during your studies. How disappointed you would be when your soulmate, the one person meant for you and chosen by destiny itself, would be… that?

That upsetting idea haunted him, hurting more than the bruises that had formed under fists of bullies Steve kept trying to save those even weaker than him from, more than stick and stones and words alike.

Then again… there was a little silver of hope in his heart, a little shy voice in his head. If you were to be his true love, then certainly you’d accept him, yes? If he tried, if he tried hard enough to be a good man, the best possible version of himself, if he worked hard to protect and feed his future family, set a good example for your future children as his mother had, worked towards making a better world, you’d accept him? If he could live with not being as great as others but never stopped trying, you would respect him and perhaps even loved him for what he was?

Then, of course, war came and those thoughts were pushed aside.

Then, he grabbed at his chance to fight that war, to do his part, to help – and incidentally, he also earned his chance to literally grow. Healthy. Strong. More worthy; but remaining good, because that was the one part of him he wanted to hold on to no matter what, that one part he would wish his love, wherever she was, would love him for, even if he suddenly shrank back into the back of skin and bones he used to be.

Then, he lost his best friend Turned into a failure.

And then… then he died.

One of his last thoughts were of you, a beautiful woman with vague appearance but strikingly kind heart and sharp mind. He prayed you’d get a new soulmate somehow, even as those cases weren’t heard of. He prayed you’d live a happy healthy life without him, at least as good as he would have tried his best to give you, to build with you, even as his own heart was breaking to pieces, regret veiling his body as water and snow and icy wind would, regret for missing his chance to meet the most special person in his world.

When he closed his eyes and still saw the white of ice and the blue of the deep sea, he’d swear he saw your face, crystal clear, for the first time – and the last time – in his life.

Seeing you, a stunning mirage, his last thought was that you were an angel gently leading him into afterlife.

When he woke up to a new millennium, one of the first things he did was checking his forearm; he words still sat there, taunting, mocking and heartbreaking, another screaming reminder of him not belonging here.

As years passed by, the sense of alienation subdued. Steve Rogers learned to belong, even as a piece of his heart was missing, longing for the past life – and the life he had never got to have – always humming in his chest quietly.

The mark on his forearm remained, a sad memento to a soulmate he had never met, turning him into a martyr.

But many people had rejected the idea of soulmates in this time, rebelling against their so-called fate, taking off on a path of searching love on their own. Steve learned they did so for various reasons – a sense of adventure before they’d truly find their one true love, a quest to choose the fortune and love on their own terms, a fuck-you to the universe when their soulmate turned out to be less than they imagined and hoped.

His own reasons, as he reluctantly started to look for a person to share his life with, were rather unique, but no one looked at him through their fingers for that. If anything, those who cared about him encouraged him, wishing for his happiness.

It was only when he got Bucky back – one of his greatest regrets not erased, not lessened since Bucky had endured unimaginable pain, but transformed, a piece of Steve’s past brought back to life – that he began to wonder about the almost blasphemous thought he had forbid himself from entertaining when he had been first brought back to life from ice.

Were you still there somewhere?

And then, a shier thought:

Is there still a chance for me to find my true soulmate?

And then, the shiest one of them all:

Is there a chance for me to find happiness with you?

When he had thought of that before, he was certain that since you were still alive – he had read reports of people claiming their soulmark changed colours if their loved one died – he had thought of you as an old lady who had hopefully lived her life as he had genuinely wished for her.

But what if fate, that little minx who had taken his best friend for life from him only to give him back, had somehow blessed Steve with a soulmark decades before you were even born? What he hadn’t lost his chance, what if you were still young enough to build a life with him? Was that even possible? There were aliens, flying suits of armour, other realms, downright magical weapons… he had been given a second chance at life. There were things happening Steve would have never thought possible before. So was there a chance…?

The idea of you being a doctor became much more plausible too – in this century, female doctors were a much more common occurrence. That, naturally, did not diminish your brilliance whatsoever, the fundamental idea of who you’d be never changing in Steve’s mind. The image only became less surreal in one way and a whole lot more surreal in another.

For his own sake, he didn’t give in into that hope fully; at least he told himself that despite lying awake at night, a ghost of a woman he had never met lying next to him, radiating non-existent warmth he wished with his whole being he could touch.

He wasn’t chasing after the ghost, didn’t allow himself that – there was no way to do so to his knowledge anyway – for the chances of success were rather slim.

But there was always hope, wasn’t there?

And the longing for love, whether it was in the hands of fate or in his own to find it, remained, built into his very body; etched into his bones, flowing through his veins, laced into his skin beyond the words on his forearm, always humming quietly in his heart.

In the age of information and science, the concept of having your ideal partner for life chosen by some mysterious abstract entity called Fate was literally otherworldly. Alien. Absurd even.

And yet, it still ruled the lives of many.

Which, in all honesty, was almost even more fascinating than the existence of soulmarks itself – the belief people had for them despite being no logic to them at all.

Perhaps it was the little piece of human soul, an inner child people so desperately wanted to cling to for its own beauty and purity, a child who never wanted to stop believing in magic, fate, dragons, mighty knights and kind-hearted ladies, in all things of fairytales and happy-endings the most. Because to a point, that was what soulmarks were – and little fairytale-like book of destiny.

One that not even science seemed capable of beating.

And you should know; you were somewhat of a scientist yourself. And despite how unfathomable the nature of soulmates was, you could not say that you rejected the idea of them, of someone who was born to belong with you, someone you could share your life with, the right partner in the crime of life. Basic bodily needs aside, wasn’t that the most fundamental need of all? To love and be loved; to belong?

Who wouldn’t wish for that reassurance that they could have that, that some strange force of universe itself created a person like that for them? They were the god’s strongest soldiers you supposed; because you were certainly not immune to that tempting comfort.

But you weren’t obsessed – and you prided yourself in the fact. Mostly because the sheer fanaticism of the world over soulmarks, the one thing that kept defying science – besides alien portals, magical blue cubes, demigods walking the Earth and things alike – was dialled up ad absurdum.

There could be billions of dollars poured into research of curing cancer. Cure autoimmune diseases. Helping the homeless. Slowing down global warming. Erasing poverty and famine. Protecting nature, endangered species. Discovering new worlds, exploring space.

But no. Governments poured billions of dollars into researching soulmarks. How was it they existed? How was it you could cut through skin, you could cut off skin and the mark would reappear somewhere else? What was the grand scheme of them? Why was it that only two people who belonged together could see them and the person speaking the words could only see it on their soulmate’s skin after they spoke the words, almost like a fail-safe that couldn’t seem to be broken with any tricks?

It wasn’t a question of physics as far as people knew; they had tried to build sets-up of various optics, thermovision cameras and complex sets of lenses and mirrors, and none of the reports you had ever heard of claimed success. It wasn’t genetic markers either; no one had discovered a sequence of DNA responsible for soulmarks, let alone turned whatever discovery they would have made into a tool of reading anyone’s but their own and their soulmate’s mark. It didn’t seem to be chemistry either; no one had made a groundbreaking discovery or at least they hadn’t informed the scientific or any other community so far.

But by gods, forget the space race. Attempting to be the first one to somehow read everyone’s soulmark and then create an algorithm to monetize it as the one and only soulmate dating app, now that was a competition overflowing with cutthroat madmen. Not to mention the crowds looking to temper with soulmarks, to make another one appear on someone’s body; or worse, to erase the original soulmark and instead design one capable of manipulating the outcome of a soulmate match.

You found the force of that obsession insane – and frankly, all the attempts morally wrong. While dedicated to science and loyal to discovery, you found soulmarks to be something sacred, one of the things that should not be touched by filthy human hands; god knew humanity, while doing a lot of good, had mucked up about just as much.

You were not alone in that belief. There were, in fact, numerous demonstrations against scientists experimenting with soulmarks, people protesting against anyone creating such tool and using it to temper with natural course of things no one fully understood, not for the lack of trying. However – as expected everywhere where politics and money were involved – these protests were in vain.

They were as vain and futile as the research of the marks itself.

As for your own soulmark, you had a rather complicated relationship with it.

On one hand, it gave you a sense of peace – there was someone for you, even as sometimes it did not feel plausible at all. You had time too – because based on those words, you would not meet your soulmate until in your twenties at least. You had plenty of time to become who you were meant to be before a man could turn your life upside down, even as that was not supposed to be what soulmates did, at least not in a bad sense of the word.  

On the other hand, it was a ball and chain. You would not find you soulmate sooner than in your twenties and sometimes, you missed them despite not having met yet. When imagining what your meeting could be like based on their first words etched into your skin, you feared they might be a little disappointed – even as you did not let that stop you from pursuing the life you wanted. And despite you wanting to choose the career either way, it felt like someone – be it god, fate or another cosmic entity humanity was yet to discover – had chosen the path for you the moment you had been born if not before.

'Doctor, are you alright?'

Four simple words that couldn’t be more ordinary and yet extraordinary for they represented one of the most meaningful encounters of your life. The source of as much comfort as anxiety.

You couldn’t stand hospitals ever since you were a child. The cold environment reminded you of the strange icy feeling that had settled in your chest over the months you had been visiting your dying father, your naïve eyes watching cancer bite off his energy and smiles first, before it swallowed his whole body and soul. He had been a ghost long before he passed; and in your mind, despite all rationality even years after, that ghost haunted any hospital you visited.

Learning what your soulmark was as a child, you had spent countless nights crying, soul torn into pieces, pushed and pulled between the visceral desire to live up to your soulmark and the crippling nausea at the mere thought of dealing with people drowned in misery caused by any illness in the cold institution they called a hospital.

However, the curious kid you had been, you had fallen in love with science itself.

And that one day at school, when a classmate of yours had brought their father to the class to talk about his job as a doctor, you had burst into tears. You began to sob in the middle of him explaining to third-graders that he was not a medical doctor, but a physicist with a doctorate earning him the degree of a doctor as well. You remembered your teacher leading you outside of class, concerned and absolutely baffled, trying to sooth you helplessly even as you were completely inconsolable – because you did not need consolation.

You were crying the happiest, most relieved tears of your life.

You could still be a ‘doctor’. And you genuinely wanted to be one, not just because of what your soulmark read. You had always wished to help people indirectly, even as you looked back at your life now. Sure, your soulmark could have been adding fuel to your drive when your motivation had been running low, but this was who you desired and was meant to become.

A molecular biologist. A doctor in making. Researching the effects of medicinal drugs with hopes to improve them.

A scientist not researching soulmarks, thank you very much.

And yes, there was the lingering feeling of missing a person you hadn’t even met yet – especially when Doctor Simmons’ face lit up like fluorodeoxyglucose in PET scans whenever she saw Doctor Fitz – but you had other things to focus on. And you had time. There was no pressure.

You were not a doctor yet, after all.

Naturally, just because you dodged the joys and sorrows of being a medical student and later on, a medical doctor, it did not mean that you had it easy. No one working on their doctorate did. But when you decided to pursue your degree and work in research, you signed up for that.

You signed up for a lot of things.

It was a little peculiar for you to be on the SHIELD campus in the science division without a doctorate. It was a known fact that SHIELD only recruited best of the best, this Science ad Technology in particular: you needed at least one doctorate to even walk through the door, which was something you were reminded a lot because you did not meet that requirement and here you were.

But SHELD owned the best equipment and you were fortunate enough to get in by the lovely game of fate, being good and driven enough and having met the right people at the right time. SHIELD Academy’s Science & Tech division had the unique equipment you often needed for your research. Your research was interesting enough for people who had perhaps more power over your little life than fate itself. Stars aligned.

It was no walk in a parc, but you were no fool; jumping after that opportunity after having one too many doors shut into your face was a no-brainer. Even though it meant signing up for a whole extra load of shit.

You signed up to be the weird girl. The privileged girl. Hell, even the stupider than local average girl, because you were only an engineer at this point.

You signed up for being the young girl, even as you had met a few people there who had started younger, having actually earned their first PhD at age 17 or less.

You signed up for mockery and misogyny, for as you were aware the level was blissfully low here compared to other workplaces, especially where science was concerned; in exact science, you observed, more than anywhere you ever heard of, it was customary to keep that one insufferable employee, because they were simply that good at their job, no matter that they had cost the department a few other employees.

You signed up for living on campus with other SHIELD recruits, which meant living in close quarters with other divisions; as a result, some days the whole area seemed to swim in testosterone emitted by the hulking special agents in making from Operations.  

But that was okay. You could do it.

There were bright sides too, many of them. Like pursuing your dream career. Being among like-minded people whose brain, to a large point, ran on the same wavelength. Hooking up with a handsome but notbrainless recruit from Operations or Communication here and there, some flings, some relationships, because if you were to wait for the love of your life, you might as well not wither completely. You were only human and you had needs along with your lifegoals.

You more than willingly signed up for working with Agent slash Doctor Jemma Simmons.  With her two PhDs and rich experience from the field, she had left the action behind in order to work on her third PhD and help humanity without having her life on the line every day. She was hard-working, with no-nonsense approach and lovely sense of humour with plenty of stories to back it up; she was overall pleasant person to work and be friends with and despite having been through amazing and terrifying experiences other people couldn’t even imagine, she remained surprisingly down-to-Earth.

Sure, she had her quirks like insisting on having a gun at hand at all times and stashing a few small vials of altered Molotov cocktail, a mixture of chemicals which would ignite upon the vial breaking, in one of the nearby cabinets – but you supposed there were worst things to get used to than that in a coworker or a friend. She used to be an active agent after all; in fact, unofficially, she remained one. Much like anyone, you knew that certain habits died hard and being through what she had been – she confessed to you that she once spent months on a nearly deserted ancient planet, among other things – left a mark. If this made her feel safer, you’d take it.

Another great thing about Jemma, Doctor Simmons, was that she was adorably English and was in dedicated relationship with Doctor Fitz who was a Scotsman, so that was the spice of long workdays at times; especially if you agreed to play Scrabble with them and a few friends in the evening.

But there were things you had not signed up for when following the alluring promise of a prestigious spot and unique equipment.

And one of them was a damn Nazi revival group in the form of fucking HYDRA attacking the lab while you were in the peaceful process of waiting for your PCR to finally be finished.

Influx of men in full tactical gear interrupting Jemma updating you the vacation plans, Fiji and all the rare species of fishes that could be observed there when scuba diving.

When you heard the first shouts, breaking of glass and dull echoes of gunshots from afar, your immediate thought was that you had been having a good day and that the experiment had been coming along nicely – and that whatever mess was happening was for sure about to ruin all your progress.

By the time panic settled in, Jemma was practically tackling you down, hand over your mouth to muffle your startled squeak at the sudden movement, her eyes alert and serious, screaming at you to keep quiet.

The sickening shouts of HAIL HYDRA, COOPERATE AND YOU’LL GET HURT LESS was what sent your brain crashing into reality; that and the distant agonized cries of people, coworkers and recruits you knew and met in the hallways every day, following the sounds of gunshots growing in volume and frequency.

You could hear Jemma shuffling next to you further.

You yourself were unable to move beyond stifling a cry behind your suddenly sweaty palm as another female voice wailed in pain.

Blood seemed to freeze in your veins despite your heart thundering in your ribcage and your temples and it helped you shit at all that you were aware that was such thing was literally impossible. By the time Jemma’s hand grabbed yours again and squeezed hard, you realized you were shaking – half in anger, half in paralyzing fear, half in utter shock. It didn’t matter it didn’t add up.

What mattered was the gun in Jemma’s hand. She was holding a gun, ready to shoot, because there were enemy agents, fucking HYDRA burst through the door, guns blazing. And killing people.

You were whispering with exasperation worth of a shout before you knew what you were doing.

“Why?! Why the fuck-“

“Probably the samples they brought in today, precious cargo,” Jemma whispered back frantically, loading the gun and reaching into another cabinet behind her. You only stared at her in utter confusion and mute horror, rapid heavy footsteps approaching and sending your already racing heart into a madness. “Gun or cocktails?”

“I can’t shoot a-!”

Before you could finish, the familiar sound of the sliding door opening and a horrifying echo of tactical boots reached your ears, a set of vials pressed into your palm.

You gulped, pulse thundering in your temples.

Those goddamn Simmons’ cocktails as you named them since she had insisted on keeping around.

You couldn’t believe the moment was here that you were actually grateful for them, even as they seemed to burn in your hand even with the vials themselves intact.

Your eyes snapped to Jemma’s face to question it wordlessly at least, but she wasn’t looking at you; she was listening intently, lying in wake as if she was the predator and not the prey you felt like.

Your own breathing seemed too loud as you allowed yourself to squeeze your eyes shut for but a moment, a desperate attempt to wake up from the nightmare; but the morning didn’t come.

Instead, a gunshot rang in the room, glass shattering somewhere above your head to your right, sending a waterfall of shards flying next to you.

And causing you to cry out in fright.

Which revealed your position to the agents flowing into the lab.

Without a thought you snapped your eyes opened, jumped to your feet and threw two vials in the direction of a black blur with a shockingly clear red patch of the mythical Hydra monster in the middle; peripherally, you saw Jemma attacking as well, deafening noise of gunshot nearly blowing your eardrum.

You crouched back behind the counter so fast you felt vertigo swing you to the left, sharp pain erupting from your palm. It was pure miracle your right hand didn’t clench in instinct and shatter the two remaining vials, setting yourself on fire as well.

As well.

Someone was screaming – a man, you realized – the acid smell of burned flesh and plastic and various chemicals punching your nose and your stomach hard. You had hit someone with the vial. They screamed because of what you had done. You had-

You had no time to feel sorry. You had no time to properly think fucking serves them right.

More steps, more gunshots, movements you weren’t sure how happened or came to you in the first place, flashes of light and crimson and noise and godawful smell--- and pain erupting in the back of your head and suddenly you were barely catching yourself on the counter with your slippery palm--- your fingers brushed metal, knees weak but hands grabbing with all your might, lifting and swinging, a sickening crack on your right before you were falling, landing on your wrist, back hitting the cabinet door and making even more noise as you sent equipment clattering around.

However, the loudest sound was another gunshot; but the strangest sound was unfamiliar whizzing and metal hitting metal and someone most definitely shouting “clear!” that sounded as distant as a whisper over the ringing in your ears.

Instinctively, your head snapped to the voice as you tried to prop up on your hands to see; the world swam in front of your eyes, dizziness forcing you to fall back on your ass and squeeze your eyes shut in hopes to stop the world from spinning, a sting in your palm drawing a hiss from your lips.

You could hear Jemma’s talking to someone, her words blurred into a mumble despite her voice sounding firm and methodical; footsteps, quick and heavy but somewhat soft, accompanied by a brush of air against your skin, making you open your eyes again just as navy blue with speckles of silvery grey glinting in a flickering light filled your vision.

Then, a face; an extremely handsome face even as a helmet made of blue similar to the rest of his suit covered the upper half of it, framing a pair of the dreamiest blue eyes you had ever seen, as beautiful as blurry as a dream indeed.

Somewhere in the back of your brain it started clicking into place – that the man in front of you looked a whole lot like Captain America and he was there to kick HYDRA’s ass; he was hunk and looked righteous and unfairly pretty, the cut of his jaw sharp enough to appear as if sculpted by ancient masters of art and it might be softened by the leather strap holding his helmet in place but that only brought out the sheer beauty of his lips even with a small bloody split on them.

And he was talking to you, his leather-clad hand gently grasping your arm as you involuntarily swayed to side when moving your head to take in the entirety of his large figure.

“Doctor, are you alright?” he asked slowly, velvety voice sweet and heavy with concern at once, the gentle but firm hold on your arm growing stronger when you blinked owlishly, the connection between the meaning of his words and his apparent intention to talk to you slow and fragile.

Your tongue felt as if made of lead even as it tasted of bitterness of adrenalin, but you willed yourself to answer, a knee-jerk reaction more than anything else.

“’mm… not a doctor yet.”

As you responded, you brain began to clear; and it occurred to you that it was a fair assumption for him to make.

You had grown used to clarifying, but hadn’t done so in months, because everyone already knew. However, he was an outsider to this lab and he couldn’t know you were the exception to the local rule. And you were wearing a lab coat, one that now had to be covered in mixture of chemicals you did not wish to identify, but perhaps you should try, because your forearm was beginning to burn.

The beautiful man kneeling in front of you silently observed you for what seemed like an eternity and half, surprise written all over his face. You couldn’t blame him; you were the weirdo of the lab. The fact the person who had purposely stacked explosives at hand was less of an anomaly than that was a thing to consider, but your head hurt too much to think about that and your heart was still beating unhealthily fast and his error seemed so insignificant in the grand scheme of things of HYDRA having attacked your lab and Captain America being right in front of you, holding onto your arm.

His soft baffled smile as he hung his head and shook it a bit with a breathless chuckle, and then lifted his downright shining gaze back to you, well that certainly made for a spectacular distraction from such unimportant thoughts.

Did his thumb just brush your arm as he still held you up a bit?

And had anyone ever told him he had a stunning smile that could melt hearts even if it was barely there and it was certainly melting yours?

“Apologies, miss. I’m going to help you get to medical, alright?” he suggested, those damn gorgeous eyes roaming your face with what almost seemed like wonder, even as his voice sounded all kinds of reassuring. “You’re safe now, I promise.”

Safe. You were safe. Because there had been HYDRA agents, but Captain America and actual SHIELD operatives had come to the rescue. And because Jemma was-

Jemma. Your straightened, dull ache pounding in your back as you did so, vision clearing a fraction with the sudden realization that you couldn’t hear your friend anymore. Your friend whom you owed your life very likely, but even if you didn’t, you would have-

You craned your neck over Captain America’s impressive frame, head snapping from left to right, nausea rising with the movement, but that didn’t matter, you had to-

You turned your alarmed gaze back to the man who was still holding you, an urgent question on your lips.

“Jemma? Is she--- Doctor Simmons, brunet, lab coat-“ you paused, realizing bitterly that you had just described half of the Science and Technology. “Female. She’s a doctor and an agent too, she was with me had a gu-“

A warm squeeze on your arm, the concern which had grown even more evident on Captain’s face melting away and giving way to a soothing smile.

“She’s alright. She’s already left to be checked up and to give her statement.”

Your shoulders sagged, your head dropping a bit; the violent vertigo that seized your body at that was not pleasant and you tried to blink it away, gaze catching the reflection of the still-blinking fluorescent lamp on the Captain’s shield.

Oh. That was probably what had made the whizzing sound before. As your brain conjured an image of that, a spinning shield flying through the air, you cursed yourself mentally for letting your mind even go there since you had already felt like you were the flying piece of metal and the thing you’d hit eventually would be the floor.

“My head is spinning,” you muttered absently as you attempted to refocus your gaze, praying to gods of religion and science alike you wouldn’t throw up on the poor caring man.

Why was he still sitting here with you? Surely there were much more important things to tend to than one little post-grad? How was he so kind and gentle? Wasn’t he known for inspiring speeches in a deep serious voice and for beating up villains with both his physical strength and brains?

So many questions and no answer in those pretty blue eyes.

In fact, the number of your questions grew exponentially when the hand on your arm released the pressure and gently rubbed your elbow instead; his free hand carefully cradled the back of your other hand, the contrast of leather and his warm skin surprisingly sensual, suddenly making you understand why so many regency era literature spoke of hand-holding as indecent even as it was barely Fifty Shades of Grey level of filth.  

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Captain Rogers said, snapping you from your thoughts. “Let me help you up and they’ll check you up too, including this nasty cut, okay?”

Huh?

Purposely slowly as not to make the vertigo worse, you glanced at your hand in his, feeling a fresh sting just by looking at your palm, your gaze instantly snapping away.

And falling straight onto two intact vials full of liquid of a distinct colour, lying carelessly about two feet away from Steve Rogers’ tactical boots. Your heart jumped in your chest, your hazy mind finally growing aware of your surroundings.

“Shoot! Careful around those, they’re highly flammable!” you warned him swiftly, his gaze snapping to the vials in question, while ours slowly trailed over the utter, utter messthe lab had become.

The sheer amount of broken glass, spilled chemicals, broken pipettes, torn papers and unidentifiable piles of junk was staggering and it was actually a miracle nothing had exploded yet – and as a cherry on top, a few feet away, a relatively small portable PCR machine, the very equipment you had been using, downright murdered along with your experiment and a smudge of blood around it. Jesus.

“Okay, that’s good to know. More the reason to get out,” Captain Rogers remarked, slight amusement lacing his voice, only growing stronger as he continued. “Keep a lot of these around?”

You could have scoffed, but you didn’t. You have no idea, pal.

“My friend is paranoid…” you explained, still staring at them, even as you mentally added ‘or not’, since those little things might have very well saved your life. As your gaze returned to Captain Rogers, your eyes caught on something else, having you sit up straighter in sheer horror. “Is that a stab wound?!”

You gulped at the sight, even as your uninjured hand instinctively reached out towards it – as if you could fix it. The already dark suit, a lovely navy blue, appeared downright black at left his side, right where it seemed to be singed by a flame.

Had that injury been there the whole damn time he had been sitting here with you, eternally patient with your slowed brain, Simmons’ cocktails lying around in one huge chemical dump in risk of exploding any damn minute?

You logically knew the answer had to be yes, but it made zero sense – and his answer made even less sense.

“Bullet, actually. Some sort of chemical damaged the Kevlar lining and they got a lucky hit. It’s just a graze.”

“A gra-“ you choked on the word, spit stuck in your throat causing you to cough and a groan escape past your lips as the sudden rapid movement sent your head pounding again.

“Hey, you-“

“You’ve been shot and you called my cut nasty?” you questioned through the tears, earning a smile worth giving up a career for – painfully warm, kind and… almost fond.

You truly must have hit your head hard.

…as if it hadn’t been evident before.

“I heal fast. You don’t need to worry about me. I’ll be alright, doc.”

A knee-jerk reaction – again. What was it with him? Had he hit his head, forgetting you had already explained – you had, you hadn’t imagined that, right? – and now he called you a doctor again, turned into a familiar nickname, no less.

“I’m not a doct---- holy shit.”

It slammed into you like a train, struck you like a lightning, even as neither of those things had ever happened to you – yet, you imagined it had to feel like this.

A massive force, a force of nature, realization as bright and as unexpected as a lightning from a clear sky.

Doctor, are you alright?

He had asked that. He had asked that. He had said your words. He had said your goddamn soulmate’s first words to you, what must have been minutes ago, and only now it hit you.

You were left staring at him with wide eyes, myriad of emotions written all over his face, including  slight amusement and what you had earlier inexplicably identified as fondness, because the reason why he was still sitting here with you – though perhaps that was what he always did when rescuing, what did you know, you didn’t, this was your first meeting, that was why he had said the words – was that unlike you, he had realized you were his soulmate right away.

He kept watching you, silently letting you process the crucial revelation, a tight but no less kind smile on his lips.

“You said my words,” you said oh so intelligently. “You--- what… what did I—say?”

It was perhaps the stupidest question of all you could have come up on the spot, but you genuinely couldn’t remember – and wanted to know what words he had been looking at his whole life.

…this part of life? Or before the ice too? How did he feel about that? How did he feel about you? Was he disappointed? He didn’t look like he was, but didn’t even know what you had said—

What you did know and remember was that you were supposed to be smart and yet it had taken you an eternity to even notice you were facing your soulmate you had been probably spewing complete nonsense, you were now stammering like an idiot and for someone who had been worried, always, even if in the back of their mind, if their soulmate would find them good enough, you were generally making a bloody awful first impression.

But seriously, what had been your first words-

“You said you weren’t a doctor yet,” Captain Rogers reminded you, voice soft with affection of someone who had imagined hearing those words at least as many times as you had wondered about yours, hoping they would be pronounced by someone who’d respect you and cared about what kind of person you were, and would hopefully, eventually care for you. Loved you even. The tender way the syllables rolled of his tongue, spoken as if they tasted of honey, nearly chased fresh tears to your eyes. Alright, perhaps your first impression hadn’t been as bad as it appeared in your – albeit injured – head.  “But if you really don’t remember saying that, that’s not a good sign. We need to get you medical attention. Come on. Hold on.”

Blinking slowly, still processing the light and yet suffocating feeling that found residence in your chest as it was starting to truly settle that this man, this painfully beautiful and criminally gentle man, was your soulmate, he was leaning closer to you, his hands guiding yours to wrap around his neck, a wordless order you had obediently followed, and then one of his arms was sliding under your knees and his other wrapping around the middle of your back.

And then your vertigo hit you anew because you were suddenly up in the air, hands gripping hard at anything you could reach – conveniently, the only thing was him, because he had lifted you upin his arms, some of your weight resting against his chest – despite the pain that shot up your left hand.

“Whoa-“ And then, because your memory did serve you at least a little: “You--- have been stabbed.”

“Shot,” he repeated patiently, fondly almost, and you did recall he had said that.

You recalled despite the scent of pleasant aftershave and peak man suddenly enveloping you as much as his arms and the firm armour – or perhaps that was the muscles underneath? And those pretty blue eyes were watching you with a glint of amusement and a surprising amount of affection for a guy saying he had been hit by a bullet, while effortlessly carrying the girl he had just met in his-- very, very strong, muscly arms and perhaps your head was not only spinning because of the sudden height you found yourself at.

…amusement? How was he amused? Was that-- was that a joke? Was he making fun of his bullet wound, playing it down? 

“That’s… really not better.”

He grinned down at you as he made his way to the exit.

Walking. Watching you. Grinning and not even really looking where he was stepping.

Oh no.

Oh no, he was one of those people. You had met men like him at Operations, except for some reason – perhaps some sort of a soulmate telepathy – you had a feeling in him, that the peculiar recklessness many people from suffered, the disregard for their safety, because they could handle it, was dialled up to eleven in him. On a one to five scale. Because scaling mattered; you were a scientist. You’d know.

However, he did make it out of the laboratory without blowing anything up – perhaps at least that recklessness was balanced up by enhanced senses of a supersoldier and indeed, healing fast. And you hoped with your whole heart that walking out unscathed was a conscious effort, be it for him (somehow you doubted that) or for the cargo he was carrying (you had no doubt about that, not when he was looking at you like that). At least he had kept the helmet on; you were thankful for that, even as you’d love to see him without it.

See your soulmate.

You knew what he looked like everyone knew what he looked like. If they had missed the WW II. ed, they could barely miss the news about an alien invasion he had had a hand in stopping, the fall of majority of SHIELD, and other exciting horrifying news.

“I’ll be fine, doc. Now let’s get you away from exploding vials and lab equipment you could knock me out with. I’d rather be safe when I ask you out for dinner.”

You gulped, gripping him a bit tighter as a memory hit you – literally.

The PCR machine. You had done that. You had grabbed it and used it to smash into a HYDRA agent’s face, using the nearest improvised tool of defence. Jesus.

I really did that?

“You… saw that?” was what you asked instead, a few second ticking by as the rest of his words registered in your brain – and god, you really hoped your cognitive abilities would restore soon and the head injury had not caused permanent damage. “Oh.”

As much as your heart started pounding at that, a pleasant somersault in your stomach for a change, it was a little unfair to sort-of ask you when you were in your current predicament. Being carried like that, so close to him, so gentlemanly and tenderly handled despite your weight no doubt straining him, especially since he had been shot – grazed –, yoursenses wrapped in everything that was him and pulling you in, you were fairly certain you might say yes to just about anything he’d ask.

And not just because he was your soulmate.

Your soulmate carrying you in his arms, while wearing a very flattering suit of armour.

“If you’d like, of course,” he added with slight hesitance that only made your heart race further, because he was laying out his own heart for you already, expressive, genuine, and maybe sweetly handsy but not pushy despite his title and rank technically giving him every right to do whatever the hell he wanted. “But either way, I’ll save the real question for when I know you’re not suffering from a concussion. That sounds good?”

“Yes, Captain,” you replied dutifully. It did sound good, his consideration warming you from inside out. His voice sounded good too. “Sounds good to me.”

His smile was bright as the sun itself and basking in its light and warmth felt just as precious. Except he was to be your private sun forever shared with other to a point, but yours. Chosen by fate itself, defying all you had ever believed, beating time by decades, only so you could find each other.

“Looking forward to it, doc. Maybe I’ll get to know your name too while we’ll be at it,” he teased lightly, but without malice. “My name is Steve.”

Steve.

You knew that. You liked that.

Hand trembling a little, but not because you worried he’d drop you as you partly let go of his shoulders, you reached for the clasp on his helmet, a fluttery feeling in your chest eager to indeed see Steve rather than the Captain.

You felt your lips curl up and mirror his when he gave a tiny nod at your brief hesitation, your fingers finally undoing the strap and revealing his face with his help.

His hair was adorably ruffled, a slight shade of dust on his cheeks whispering of where the protective gear had been; but scientifically speaking, as well as speaking directly from heart, he was absolutely beautiful, his tender smile telling you he thought the very same about you.

He was meant to be yours; as you were meant to be his.

And you couldn’t wait to get to know him.

You could tell there were people around you and they were probably staring; but for the moment, you didn’t care at all. You had just met your soulmate.

And you weren’t even a doctor yet.

“It’s really nice to meet you, Steve. But I have to admit…” you said, teasing him with a pause, rewarded by his eyes earning a curious glint, “that the Doc nickname is kinda growing on me.”

Complete masterlist

Steve Rogers masterlist

Oh this feels like coming back to my roots 🤭 but hey, this challenge is a revival of all thigs good of the past, so why not go with the good old-fashioned soulmate meet-cute with a little angst beforehand, right?

AND BEHOLD I WROTE SOMETHING SHORTER THAN 10K. SHORTER THAN 8K ACTUALLY! It’s an extravaganza miracle 😂

Also. There might be some unrelated smut in the works, but I will not finish that today so... won't be part of the cum together extravaganza... ah well 🤭

Thank you for reading and potential feedback 💕

May the Fourth be with you and the rest of May be kind ✨

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Honey Girl.

Synopsis - The Universe shows you your soulmate when it feels like you need them most. When you least expect it, you're given yours - Bucky Barnes. Your Dad's best friend. You can try to refuse it all you like; but the Universe wants what it wants. There's no denying fate.

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 5.1k

Warnings - cursing. sexual content towards the end. mild alcohol consumption. age gap. smut in next chapter(s).

Author's Note - part one is finally here!! thank you so much to everyone who asked to be tagged, and who liked and reblogged the masterlist. i am SO excited to share this with you. i've built this world in my head and trust me it is gorgeous - salty ocean breezes, sunsoaked sailboats and billowing white linen shirts. i hope you can lose yourself in my little seaside town with bucky for the time it takes you to read this, just as i did while writing it. i can't wait to write more of this series for you x

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Requests. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

next chapter (two).

Tethering /tɛð(ə)rɪŋ/

An event in which two soulmates are bound together forever. Only occurs when the Universe decides it is time. No sooner, no later.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The gentle ocean breeze gives you a moment of respite from the scorching sun that's beating down. You're half asleep, laying on the cool tile of your balcony when your phone rings.

"Babe! Babe! Babe!"

"Lacie? Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"I am freaking out right now, oh my god. I didn't know who to call. You'll never guess what just happened to me!"

You can guess. In fact, you already have.

Lacie's Tethering. It's finally happened.

You're taught, growing up, that your Tethering is the biggest moment of your life. It shapes who you are forever. Sets you on your eternal path. You're presented with your soulmate in a big display of love and affection and metaphorical fireworks. It's supposed to be magical.

You wish people would shut up about it.

The World seems to be split into two categories - the people that have been Tethered, and the people that haven't.

You fall into the latter.

You're repeatedly told it'll happen one day. It'll happen when the time is right. It'll happen when you least expect it.

You're not sure you ever want it to happen.

The idea that the Universe determines the person you're with forever has never sat right with you. What happened to free will? What happened to personal preference? You believe you should at least have a choice in the matter. It's your future, after all.

Not everyone shares the same sentiment.

"Babe, you still there?"

Lacie's excitement filled voice pulls you back to reality.

"Yeah, I'm here."

"Are you busy? Can you meet me for coffee, like, now?"

You take a deep breath and plaster a fake smile on your face.

"Sure. I'll see you in ten."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Oh my god babe, it was just incredible! You won't even believe it. There's nothing like it, truly."

You remind yourself quickly that Lacie is your best friend, and that you owe it to her to be happy for her. Personal feelings about soulmates aside.

"Tell me all about it, Lace!" you encourage, grabbing a hold of her hand excitedly.

The blonde girl squeals before shuffling closer to you, pressing her knees against yours.

"Okay, so. Picture this. I'm at my gym, doing my usual routine. I'm wearing my super cute pink Lulu Lemon set, you know the one with the flowers?"

She waits for you to nod in affirmation before she continues.

"So, I accidentally drop a weight on the ground, and it makes the biggest noise. I'm super embarrassed, and I'm trying to pick it up, but it's so heavy. And then, the hottest guy I have ever seen appears. Like, seriously gorgeous."

As much as you despise the whole soulmate thing, you can't deny how happy Lacie seems. She's almost vibrating with it, bouncing up and down in her seat.

"He comes over and picks it up for me, sets in back on the rack. And then he introduces himself, and shakes my hand, and it happened."

"What was it like?" you smile, eager for her to carry on.

"Like fucking magic."

You've heard that before. A million times. From literally everyone. Surely it can't be that magical if billions of people have experienced it.

"Magic?" you prompt.

"It is indescribable, babe. It's like... it's like everything just falls into place. Like everything finally makes sense!"

She jumps out of her chair, hugging you tightly. She's practically sat on your lap in the coffee shop, but neither of you really care.

"So, what's his name? What's he like?"

"His name is Cameron. He's new in town, he just moved here for work. He's a personal trainer, so he's like, super fit. And gorgeous. Did I mention gorgeous?"

"Maybe once or twice," you laugh.

"I'm so happy," Lacie whispers, emotion choking her voice. "I can't believe it finally happened. This is the day I've been waiting for since I was a little girl."

You hug her tighter, and ignore the look you get from the barista.

"I love you," she declares, suddenly serious. "You know that me being Tethered now doesn't change that, right?"

"I know," you confirm. "I love you too, Lace. I'm really happy for you."

You genuinely mean it. Lacie has talked about meeting her soulmate every day since you met her in the 3rd grade. You may have never quite shared her enthusiasm, but you admire her passion. And you adore her, more than anyone.

"So, what now? Are you gonna get married tomorrow and run off into the sunset?"

"I'm choosing to ignore your sarcasm because I know you're using it as a coping mechanism," she tells you pointedly. "And I know that there's a tiny part of you that wishes you'd been Tethered already, so you don't have to deal with everyone talking to you about it."

Jackpot. She's read you like a book.

"No, we're not getting married tomorrow," she rolls her eyes before continuing, "but we are going on a real date tonight. We're gonna get dinner and get to know each other. Isn't this crazy? I'm going on a date with the guy I'm gonna be spending the rest of my life with!"

"That is kinda crazy, actually," you laugh. "What are you gonna wear?"

"It doesn't matter - we're going to be together forever anyway!"

You make Lacie promise to send you a picture of her outfit as you're leaving the coffee shop, which she agrees to with glee. On your way home, you pick up some of your Mom's favourite wine, and prepare yourself for another soulmate based conversation that will inevitably happen when you tell your parents the events of the day at dinner tonight.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Hi, sweetheart!" your Dad beams as you step through the front door of your childhood home.

"Hey, Dad," you greet, allowing him to pull you in for a hug. "Where's Mom? I brought wine."

"Kitchen," he gestures with a nod of his head. "She's making that mango dessert you like."

Walking into your Mother's kitchen is like dipping your feet into a pool on a scorching hot day. The windows are propped open, curtains billowing softly in the wind. The ocean breeze drifts through the room, ruffling your Mom's dress and floating the hair away from her face. The evening sun beams in, illuminating the space with a golden glow. It smells like fresh fruit, mint, and salt water. It's a haven.

"Hi, Mama."

"Oh, my love! Just in time. I was about to call you to see if you were alright."

She makes her way over to you and kisses you on the head swiftly, before walking to the cabinet to grab wine glasses.

"Sorry I'm a little later than I said. I changed my outfit three times - it's warmer than I thought it was going to be."

"I know! Summer, finally. We've been waiting long enough."

She takes the bottle of wine from your hand and pours it into the glasses.

"You've poured four, Mama."

"Didn't your Dad tell you? Bucky's joining us for dinner."

"Oh. No, he didn't mention anything."

"He's back from his vacation. He promised he'd show us all of the pictures he took!"

She grabs the glasses and floats out of the room, leaving you alone in the kitchen, thoughts of Bucky Barnes swirling around like dust in the sunlight.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky.

Your Dad's best friend.

They met a few years ago, when Bucky moved to town. He said he was looking for something quieter, sick of city living. He wanted to slow down a bit, finally take a breath.

He was out for a run around town, getting his bearings, when he stopped your Dad on the driveway to ask about his car. They bonded over their love for motorcycles and vintage vehicles, and the rest is history.

Bucky's been a regular fixture in your life for so long, you can't remember a time before. All you know, is that it was probably a little more peaceful. His boyish charm is infectious, bringing out the youth in your Dad. They're like teenagers, when they're together. Long lost frat brothers, your Mom jokes.

She's got a soft spot for him. Most people do. It might have something to do with the fact he's devastatingly handsome.

It's no secret that Bucky Barnes is a ladies man. He is without even trying. He's charming, gorgeous, funny in all the right ways. He's mysterious, but not disarming. Tough, but not scary. Rebellious, but not a liability. He's a catch.

A catch, with a taste for beautiful women.

Your Dad always jokes that he's the towns most eligible bachelor. You can't count on two hands the amount of women you know that have dated him - but nothing seems to stick. He isn't Tethered, after all.

Some people choose not to date, if they haven't met their soulmate. They wait and wait, and when the time comes, they're complete. Others take pleasure in dating before it happens. Might as well make the most of the freedom, Bucky said once. You can't help but agree.

Might as well make the most of the freedom.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Hey, buddy!" you hear from the hallway. You make your way out of the kitchen to be met with the sight of Bucky, sun-kissed and practically glowing. His hair has a few light streaks from the sun, and the faint freckles on his cheeks are more prominent now. His steel blue eyes meet yours, mischief rife in them.

"Hi, honey," he greets, draping an arm around your shoulders. He kisses you on the cheek, light stubble scratching your skin. You throw an arm around his back and look up at him.

"There's no way this tan is natural," you tease, nudging him slightly.

"It makes me even more gorgeous, doesn't it?" he jokes, winking at you. He squeezes your shoulder before letting go, grabbing a bottle of wine from his bag.

"I brought your favourite, Lori."

"So did I," you echo, laughing.

"Great minds, honey. Great minds!"

"You can never have too much wine," your Mom yells out from the kitchen doorway. "Bring it in here, Buck. I'll put it in the refrigerator."

"Yes ma'am," he obliges, making his way to her with a smile on his face.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Guess what happened today," you begin, in between bites of your strawberry salad.

The three of them look at you intently, urging you to continue.

"Lacie got Tethered."

"How exciting!" your Mom squeals.

"That's a long time coming," Bucky chimes in. You look at him and smirk.

"Tell me about it."

"Here we go," your Dad smiles. "Our two anti soulmate protestors."

"Don't make it sound so political," Bucky laughs. "She's the only one that gets it."

"I've said it a thousand times, and I'll say it again. Just. You. Wait," your Mom lectures. "The two of you don't get it."

"Magic, fireworks, eternal love, blah blah blah. Trust me, I get it."

"She gets it," Bucky echoes. "And so do I. The Universe decides our fate, and we get no choice whatsoever. I don't believe in it, is all. I have no faith in the system. I should get to choose."

"But you feel like you are choosing," your Dad defends. "It didn't feel like it was being determined for me. It's hard to explain."

"It's just so... backwards," you justify. "I can't believe we live in a Universe where we have all the choices in the world, but don't get to choose the person we spend the rest of our lives with."

"It's worked out pretty well for us," your Mom smiles.

And it has. The first thing anyone notices when they meet your parents is that they are undeniably in love. You've never met two people more perfect for each other - which should solidify your belief in the Universe, really. But it doesn't. You can't explain where your lack of faith in it came from. It just appeared one day, and you haven't been able to shake it since. You're grateful every day to have two Tethered, happy, smitten parents. You've seen how hard it is for people with Untethered Mothers and Fathers. The judgment, the uncertainty, the hushed whispers. It sounds unbearable.

"Yes it did," your Dad confirms, shaking you from your thoughts. He reaches for your Mom's hand and kisses the back of it tenderly, eyes never once leaving hers. You look to Bucky next to you, who smiles at you gently. Feelings about soulmates aside, the both of you love these two people sat across the table with all your heart.

"Trust me, sweetheart," your Mom begins. "I know you're against the idea now - God knows I was the same at your age. But when it happens, you'll forget about all of your rebellion. You'll just be happy."

You nod in agreement, praying for the conversation to be over. As if he can read your mind, Bucky pipes up.

"Let me show you some pictures from Italy. I did promise I would."

You shoot him a grateful look before picking up your empty wine glass and making your way to the kitchen for a refill.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The dining room is now lit solely by candlelight, wax dripping onto the white lace tablecloth like condensation on a cold glass. The sun fell asleep hours ago, the four of you enjoying each others company with no regard for time.

"Oh, shit. It's late," your Dad says suddenly.

"You got big late night plans?" you tease.

"We have Clara and Mike's wedding at the weekend, so we're flying out tomorrow. We should probably get some sleep, so we're not exhausted."

Your Mom rises from her chair and kisses you on the head, before grabbing the dessert bowls from the table. Your Dad helps, smiling every time his hand brushes hers accidentally.

"Thanks for coming, kiddo. Your place next week?"

"Of course. I think I'll try that salmon recipe you sent me."

"Can't wait," your Dad assures you, giving you a one sided hug. He squeezes you once before letting you go to grab your shoes.

You can hear your parents saying their goodbyes to Bucky as you tie your laces, smoothing out the skirt of your dress as you stand. They all join you in the hallway, Bucky leaning over to grab his jacket from behind you. Fuck, he smells good.

"Have a great time at the wedding, you guys. Send me pictures, please!" you say as you hug your Mom goodbye.

"We will! Drive home safe, the both of you!"

They shut the door softly, leaving you and Bucky stood on the porch. The evening air chills your bare legs, salt in the breeze sticking to your lips.

"Where's your car?" he asks, looking around.

"Oh, I walked. It was a nice day, and I'm trying to be a little greener. Save the planet, and all," you chuckle.

"You want a ride, then?" he offers, leaning against the side of his truck.

"Uh - maybe," you hesitate, shifting your weight from foot to foot. You feel antsy, for some reason. There's a buzz flowing through your veins, making you a little restless.

"Maybe?" he smirks.

"I just, I'm not sure if I wanna go home yet. It might be that I've had three glasses of wine, but I'm kinda... jittery? Think I need to burn off some energy. Maybe I'll walk home."

"Like hell you will," he grumbles.

You quirk a brow in confusion.

"It's dark, and all those college kids are in town on their break. I don't trust 'em."

You fight to keep the grin off your face. You weirdly like it when Bucky gets protective. He's always so calm, so relaxed - it takes a lot to rile him up. He looks hot with a clenched jaw.

"Why don't we go somewhere?"

"Where?" you ask tentatively.

"I don't know," he thinks for a second. "How about the beach?"

You smile, gazing at him with a twinkle in your eyes.

"I fucking love the beach."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The ocean waves break the shore steadily, the repetitive pattern calming you both. You're sat on the sand, grains slipping through your hands where you're pouring it out through your fingers. The light of the moon reflects off the surface of the sea, illuminating the abandoned cove. It's just you, Bucky, and the night sky.

The alcohol in your system has evened you out, warm buzz keeping you sheltered from the chill. Bucky's stretched out next to you, strong arms folded underneath his head. His shirt rides up slightly, exposing a slither of sun kissed skin. You pretend not to notice his Adonis belt, or the little trail of hair that leads down into his waistband.

The silence is easy, comfortable. You don't get to hang out like this often, just the two of you. It's nice.

A notification on your phone breaks through the tranquility. You both flinch.

"Sorry," you mutter, checking the screen. "It's Lacie, telling me about her perfect date."

He chuckles lowly at your tone, sitting up to look at you.

"This is hard for you, isn't it?" he asks. "You hate the whole soulmate thing, but you like seeing her happy."

Bingo. It's like he's read your mind.

"I don't know why I hate it so much" you confess quietly. "It's a part of life. I can't avoid it. I just think - what if... what if I'm like, the exception, or something? What if I never meet my soulmate - or - what if I meet them when I'm like, seventy? That happens, you know! And then I'll be fucking cursed to spend my entire life feeling like this."

"And what is this?"

"Hopeless. That's what this is. I just feel pretty fucking hopeless."

You're not sure why you're baring your soul to Bucky tonight. You could blame the wine, but you know that's not what it is. Maybe it's because he seems to be the only one that understands.

"Me too," he whispers.

You whip your head around to stare at him in shock. He laughs at the look on your face, and continues.

"You're young - you have time. I'm forty in a couple of years. Every single one of my friends is married to their soulmate - except for me."

You bite at your lip nervously, but refuse to tear your eyes away from his steel blue ones. His face is lit by the glow from the moon, and it takes your breath away for a second. He looks almost ethereal.

"You always act so... unbothered. I didn't realise... I guess I just, I didn't -" you try to gather your thoughts before continuing. "This fucking sucks, huh?"

He laughs with his whole chest, and you're convinced the sound is so special, so rare, that you should bottle it. Sell it as medicine. It'd cure anything, you're sure of it.

"Yeah, it does," he agrees with a chuckle. "It's the waiting around that's the worst part. The unknown. It could be minutes, it could be decades. I just don't know."

"At least for now, we have each other," you joke.

"Every cloud has a silver lining, huh?" he teases, nudging you with his shoulder.

You allow your weight to press into his side a little, leaning in. He's warm, and he's familiar, and in this moment, he understands you better than anyone else in the world.

"We'll be okay, honey," he murmurs. "It'll all work out the way it's supposed to."

You close your eyes, and allow his words and the breaking waves to calm your nerves. Bucky wraps an arm around you, and all the tension melts from your muscles.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You're not sure if it's the honest conversation, or the brisk ocean breeze, but you've sobered up in record time. Your body registers this, and sends a shiver down your spine.

"You cold?" Bucky asks you. "You wanna go home?"

"Not yet," you whisper. "Not yet."

He shrugs off his worn brown leather jacket and slips it over your shoulders. It smells so strongly of him that it makes you dizzy. Bucky settles back down in his original place, returning his arm to where it was draped over you. His rough fingertips rub patterns into the material that now covers your arms, and you wish, for a fleeting moment, that it was your bare skin instead.

"You been working on anything new recently?" he enquires in a hushed tone, careful not to ruin the atmosphere.

"I made a damn good batch of macarons yesterday," you reply, beaming smile etched across your face. "Raspberry and lemon. I'll bring you some, next time I pass the Garage. You're gonna love them."

"You know, I think the only reason I ever get Mechanic of the Month is because you bring by all of your sweet treats."

You laugh melodiously, and the sound makes Bucky's heart stutter in his chest without warning.

"Happy to be of service," you tease. "I take requests, too, if you ever want something specific. Just let me know."

"You're the best, sugar."

You sink into Bucky's hold a little, daring to rest your head on his shoulder. When he doesn't stop you, you exhale, and relax even more.

"Are you working tomorrow?" he asks.

"Nope. You?"

"Nah. I'm going sailing, finally. It's been way too fuckin' long," he grumbles. "Your Dad's usually my right hand man, but he'll be in Ohio. You wanna come?"

The idea of laying on the deck of a boat in the blazing sunshine with a shirtless Bucky Barnes sounds like heaven. Who could say no to an offer like that?

"Yeah, of course. I'll bring a picnic, if you like. It's the least I can do."

"Sounds perfect," he replies, squeezing your shoulder.

Suddenly, he rises to his feet, extending a hand out to you. You grab it, and he pulls you up, the both of you shaking sand off yourselves.

"It's late, and dark, and a little cold. You ready to go?"

You nod your head, and make your way over to his truck, ignoring the heat that blooms over your chest when he opens the passenger door for you before his own.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Thank you, for tonight," you say as he pulls up in front of your apartment building.

"Thank you," he replies, killing the engine. "It's nice to have you back, you know. Wondered if you were gonna finish college and stay out there in California. Thought we might not see you again."

He almost sounds... relieved. The idea that he might have missed you if you didn't return effects you more than it should.

"I liked it there, but... I don't know. My family's here. I'm only twenty three. I've got time to move around the country. I missed this place too much when I was away."

"Never thought I'd hear you say that," he chuckles.

"I know, trust me. They do say absence makes the heart grow fonder."

"Yeah, they say a lot of fuckin' things," he jokes.

Bucky swings his door open, hopping down from the drivers seat. He makes his way over to your side, holding out a hand so you can jump out.

"Careful," he warns. "It's higher than it looks."

You grab his hand, and step onto the metal sill. Your foot slips slightly, sending you tumbling down and forward, out of the truck. Luckily, Bucky catches you, one hand in yours, other on your hip.

"Woah, easy. You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good," you breathe.

He places his hands on your cheeks and cradles your face, searching for any signs of distress. You place your palms over his, silently reassuring him.

And then, it happens.

Warm, golden, molten electricity surges through your veins, lighting up each and every one of your nerve endings. Your surroundings explode into glorious technicolour, everything suddenly brighter and more vibrant. It feels like your heart is being ripped out of your chest, only to be replaced by one that beats in a slightly different rhythm. There's flowers blooming in your ribcage, new life happening inside of you. You catch eyes with Bucky, expecting to see his stormy blue ones looking back at you. Instead, all you see is your future.

Vivid, flashing images of Bucky Barnes fill your mind, each one of them tinted with a warm, rosy hue. You feel like you're being reinvented. Your skin is alive, hyperaware of the way Bucky's palms are still gently cupping your cheeks. Your fingertips tingle with anticipation where they rest on his, itching to touch every inch of him. You feel as if the oxygen has been stolen from your lungs, and replaced with love.

Your knees are the first to buckle, the weight of the moment taking you down. You hit the ground, and so does Bucky, his palms not once leaving your face. You're both kneeling on the warm concrete, ocean waves providing a distant soundtrack. Blood is rushing in your ears, and you wonder for a second if you're about to pass out. You squeeze Bucky's hands so hard, it's a miracle you don't break his fingers. He squeezes back, eyes locked on one another.

After what feels like an eternity, you both break out of your reverie. You lean forward, resting your forehead against Bucky's, both of you panting.

You're trying to catch your breath unsuccessfully. You move one of your hands to rest on Bucky's chest, right on his heart. You swear the steady beat of it spells out your name.

He mirrors you, and moves his own hand to rest above your frantic heart, the other still glued to your cheek. You both breathe, in and out, trying to match each other. When you finally do, it's as if time stops. It's just you and Bucky. One heartbeat. One soul.

You break away from him to look into his eyes again. They look different, you think. He looks different.

He gazes back at you, cheeks flushed and chest heaving. The moonlight dances off your faces, illuminating the moment both your lives changed forever.

"It's you," he breathes in disbelief.

A laugh escapes your chest, surprising you both. He chuckles with you, and before you know it, the both of you are in hysterics, sitting on the sidewalk at three in the morning.

"Of course it's me," you giggle. "The two people that hate soulmates, Tethered together. You couldn't write it."

Bucky grins at you, clutching at his stomach.

You both take a breath, and realise your surroundings. Bucky gets up first, heaving you up by your arms. He towers over you, suddenly close. Not close enough, you decide. Never close enough.

You lunge forward and crash your lips to his. Bucky instinctively wraps one arm around your back, moving his other hand to hold you by the back of your neck. He tastes like salt and spearmint and every kiss for the rest of your life.

Bucky presses himself into you, attempting to tangle your bodies together. He wants to feel every inch of you against his skin, willing you to come closer. He aches to climb into you, sew himself into your ribcage. He'd be content to live there, beating your heart, forever.

You whine, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, exploring eagerly. You tilt your head back, and fist your hands into his shirt, plastering yourself to his front. He shoves his thigh in between your legs, the rough denim a welcome contrast to your soft skin. You buck your hips forward, and the friction is so delicious it makes you dizzy. You've never been kissed like this. It's almost feral. You're both surrendering to your fates, giving in to the animalistic urges coursing through you.

A seagull caws on a nearby street lamp, and the sound makes you both jump. You suddenly realise your scenario. Your Dad's best friend, who also happens to be your soulmate, has you pressed against his truck in the street, kissing you like he's running out of air and you're his only oxygen source. If it goes any further, you'll both get arrested for public indecency.

"Fuck, sugar," he murmurs against your mouth. "My pretty girl. My honey."

"My soulmate," you whisper.

The reality of it comes crashing down like a tsunami, drenching the both of you.

Bucky kisses you again, gentler this time. The tenderness makes you want to cry.

"What do we do now?" you mumble, fear coating your voice.

He senses your trepidation instantly. He feels it, actually, right in the front of his chest. It's like you suddenly share one body. There's no guessing, anymore. He knows exactly how you feel.

He takes a deep breath, trying to settle his building anxiety. He knows that if he stays calm, you'll stay calm. That's how Tethering works, right? He has to keep it together for the both of you, despite the panic that's rising in him, vibrating in his bones.

"How about... how about we both go to bed, get some sleep - and then we go sailing, later on today, just like we planned? And no matter what, we take everything one step at a time."

"One step at a time," you repeat, attempting to pacify you both.

"We'll figure it out," he reassures. "I know we will."

You find the will to step apart, which proves harder than you thought. It's like Bucky's an anchor - fastening you to peace, to happiness, to serenity. The more distance you put between your bodies, the more unsettled you feel. When you're not touching him, it's as if everything becomes unsteady, more difficult. You feel like you're on a rogue sailboat, battling the waves, threatened to be thrown overboard. Bucky is your lifevest, your lighthouse in the dark night. You're not sure how you're supposed to live your life any more than two feet away from him at all times.

You breathe, and smooth down your dress, running your fingers through your hair. You reach out and adjust Bucky's shirt where it's been wrinkled due to your tight grip.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," he murmurs, fingers tangling around your own.

"Goodnight, Buck," you echo.

He leans in to press a chaste kiss to your lips, savouring the taste of your cherry lip balm. He wraps his arms around you, unable to resist. Bucky breathes you in deeply, smiling uncontrollably. Nudging your nose with his, he murmurs gently against your mouth.

"My honey girl."

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[deliciousangelfestival]

The Imperfect Couple - 3

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.

A/N: Steve Rogers is older than Bucky here.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9 , Chapter 10 , Chapter 11 , Chapter 12 , Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

You arrived at the new apartment, feeling a small sense of relief for finally being under a different roof than Caroline’s. The thought of enduring the same torture as before made your skin crawl.

As you settled in, you broke the silence. “Your mom offered the attorney to us.” You remembered how you had insisted the divorce attorney make it as quick and painless as possible. “Why didn’t you finalize it?”

Bucky’s gaze remained steady. “Not once did I think you were actually going to leave me.”

“There’s no marriage between us,” you shot back, your voice sharp. “If you’d finalized it, you could’ve easily married a woman your mother approved of.”

Flashback Start

You recalled every time Caroline mentioned another woman’s name as if they were more suited for Bucky. “You know, Rachel just graduated summa cum laude from Harvard in social politics,” she had said at the rehearsal dinner.

Then, on your wedding day, as you and Bucky sat together, trying to enjoy the celebration, Caroline approached, holding hands with a stunning woman. “Bucky, look who’s here? Katherine just arrived from London.”

Caroline’s voice dripped with approval. “Both of them went to the same law school.”

You clenched the fork in your hand so hard you thought it might snap.

Why the hell was she introducing another woman to you on your wedding night?

Did she expect you and Bucky to have a threesome with Katherine?

From that moment, you knew your place—an outsider who didn’t come from the pedigree Caroline so desperately wanted for her son.

When you finally left the house, you remembered her raising her champagne glass with a smirk. “I always knew you weren’t the one.”

Flashback End

“They need someone with a spotless record,” Bucky said, breaking you from your thoughts.

You stood there, your emotions a mix of anger and disbelief.

“I’m not making excuses for you. I know the old me wasn’t good enough, that I couldn’t be the man you could rely on,” he admitted, his voice thick with regret.

He looked at you with a desperation that caught you off guard. “You could poison my drink, stab me in my sleep. I wouldn’t fight it. I’d let you.”

His eyes, usually so confident and composed, were now filled with a deep, pained sincerity. The weight of his guilt seemed to crush him, and the shadows of remorse darkened his features. His hands trembled slightly, betraying the calm facade he tried to maintain.

Your breath hitched, your heart pounding in your chest. How could he say that so casually? What kind of twisted love was this?

“That’s how much I need you,” he confessed, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You’re using me,” you accused, your voice shaking with a mix of fury and sadness.

Bucky didn’t deny it. “Like I said, it’s a business relationship. But I’ve trusted you from the beginning. Put my faith in you.”

He reached out, taking your hands in his, holding them together like a prayer. “And I hope we can work together. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime chance to work in the White House.””

🌸🌸🌸🌸

The following day, you met Steve, the future Presidential candidate. He greeted you warmly, his genuine smile easing some of the tension you felt. You’d met Steve and his wife, Peggy, a few times before—honest people who never treated you like you didn’t belong. Steve had even defended you whenever Caroline or others looked down on you for not being in the same league as them.

"I’m so glad you’re here," Steve said, clasping your hand. "When did you arrive?"

You chuckled softly. "Well, when three Secret Service agents showed up at my door, who was I to say no?"

Steve chuckled too, though there was a hint of awkwardness in his eyes. He tilted his head slightly. "Let’s talk."

You walked together, the air thick with unspoken words. "I know it’s difficult for you to be here. I owe you big time," Steve began sincerely. He had witnessed your marriage crumble, and despite his and Peggy’s best efforts to support you and Bucky, things had fallen apart.

You sighed. "What confuses me is, why me? He could’ve chosen another woman, someone way more qualified."

Steve leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper. "To be honest, I think you’re the best option. He probably won’t show it, but Bucky was happy when he heard you were coming."

You scoffed, glancing over at Bucky, who was watching the two of you from a distance. "Impossible."

As you scanned the room, you spotted someone familiar—your brother, Tim. Excusing yourself from Steve, you made your way over to him.

"I’m glad you’re here," Tim said, his voice filled with warmth, though his eyes carried a weight of their own.

You narrowed your eyes at him. "I can’t believe you. You knew what I went through, and yet you’re working with him? You sucked up to him."

"Look at me," Tim said firmly.

You glanced down at him, seeing the determination in his gaze.

"Who’s going to hire a disabled person like me?" Tim who seated on his wheelchair, his voice wavered slightly as he spoke. He had been born with both legs, but when bone cancer struck his left leg, the doctors recommended amputation to stop it from spreading. That surgery had shattered his dreams of becoming a professional tennis player.

"It was James who offered me a job," he emphasized, "with a high salary."

Tim continued, "You can keep your anger, but face it, Y/N—they won’t pay the bills. For people like me, I need more money to survive in this world."

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, Bucky appeared beside you.

"Hi, Tim."

"Hey," Tim replied.

"I'm going to steal your sister for a bit." Bucky turned to you. "Our next schedule is couple’s therapy," he said, his voice calm but authoritative, cutting the conversation short.

You hated this part. The thought of attending therapy with Bucky made your stomach twist with unease. You shot Tim one last look, a mixture of concern and frustration in your eyes, before following Bucky out of the room.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

As you and Bucky sat across from Aiden, the therapist, the atmosphere was thick with unresolved tension. The room was simple yet comfortable, with soft, neutral tones that were supposed to be calming but did little to ease the storm of emotions swirling within you. You could feel the weight of Bucky's presence beside you, a familiar heaviness that both comforted and suffocated you.

Aiden leaned forward, his expression neutral but attentive. "So, what are you feeling right now?"

You hesitated for a moment before speaking, your voice laced with frustration and exhaustion. "I don’t think I have the courage to live another day in his family. His mother is the devil spawn. Even seeing her shadow triggers me." The words spilled out of you, raw and unfiltered, a reflection of the years of pain and resentment you'd kept bottled up.

Aiden nodded, his gaze shifting to Bucky. "And what about you, Mr. Barnes?"

Bucky's eyes remained fixed on a spot on the floor, his voice steady but lacking its usual conviction. "I didn’t think that way. As long as we stick together, we can get through everything." There was a hint of desperation in his tone, as if he was trying to convince himself as much as you.

You turned to look at him, disbelief and anger simmering beneath your calm facade. "From the beginning, we should’ve never gotten married. You only focus on yourself, never bothering to look behind you. Me, trying my best to fit into your circles."

Your voice wavered, the painful truth of your words cutting through the silence like a knife. You had always known you were out of his league—young and innocent, believing that love could conquer all.

But you had been wrong, and the reality of that mistake was too much to bear.

His mother’s voice echoed in your mind, the countless times she’d told you that you weren’t good enough, that you didn’t deserve him.

"Your mother was right. I don’t deserve you," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky’s expression tightened, his guilt etched into every line of his face. "I’m sorry. I really am sorry." His voice cracked, the weight of his regret finally breaking through.

He had never wanted this—to see you hurt, to see you broken because of him and his family. But the damage was done, and the guilt gnawed at him, relentless and unforgiving.

Aiden observed the exchange, his eyes narrowing slightly as he spoke. "I see that you’re the victim here, ma’am. And your former mother-in-law is the main reason why." He glanced at Bucky, his voice firm. "Mr. Barnes, your mother hurt her deeply, and now you must do everything in your power to make amends."

Bucky nodded, his voice thick with emotion. "I will. I'll do anything to erase the hurt you’ve received from her." The sincerity in his voice was palpable, but it was clear that the guilt weighed heavily on him. He had failed to protect you, to shield you from his mother’s venom, and that failure haunted him.

Aiden’s voice softened, but there was a steely resolve in his words. "Use this pain, both of you. Let it fuel you to confront Caroline, to reclaim your strength. Don’t let her win. Turn this pain into power."

As you sat there, the enormity of the situation began to sink in. You had been through so much, and the path ahead was uncertain. You had expected to loathe the couple’s therapy, but surprisingly, it turned out to be a beneficial experience.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

After the couple's therapy, the silence between you and Bucky was palpable, each of you grappling with the raw emotions that had surfaced.

The therapy had stripped away your filters, leaving you both exposed—your anger and frustration flowing freely. Bucky remained stoic, absorbing your harsh words with an almost resigned patience.

Returning to the Barnes household, the atmosphere was thick with tension. The room was filled with Bucky’s family: his parents, Julius and Caroline; his brother, Shawn, who struggled with cocaine and felt diminished by his inability to meet Caroline’s lofty expectations; and Hazel, Bucky’s sister and Nate’s mother.

Hazel, having felt overshadowed as the spare child, had chosen a career in fashion to escape the constant comparison to Bucky, who was seen as the golden child.

You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for Shawn and Hazel, both of whom shared your misery under Caroline’s disdain. But that sympathy was tempered by their enjoyment of watching you suffer, thanks to their mother’s contempt.

Greg, a family friend, was the bearer of the news that the whole family would attend the upcoming convention event.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you said firmly, your tone clipped.

“Why… why?” Greg asked, confused.

Caroline rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Here we go.”

Bucky tried to interject, “Don’t…”

You cut him off with a steely gaze. “After that consultation, you still want to continue this?”

Caroline's eyes narrowed. “I knew we couldn’t trust her.”

Shawn chuckled, and Hazel remained indifferent.

“Quiet,” Julius commanded, his voice brooking no argument. The room fell silent.

With a sense of finality, you approached Caroline. “You’re so jealous of me,” you said, your voice dripping with disdain.

Caroline’s eyes widened, a mixture of anger and shock. “What are you talking about?”

“Because you know I’m going to get what you can’t have,” you smirked, savoring the moment. “Being the wife of the Vice President.”

“You bitch,” Caroline spat, something snapped inside her. Deep down, you were right—she was jealous of you. You were younger, smarter, and luckier. It was her dream to be in your position, but now it seemed like she had paved the way for you instead. What’s worse, you didn’t fit her criteria at all. She felt you didn’t deserve this.

Without warning, Caroline lunged at you, grabbing your hair. The two of you were soon locked in a fierce struggle, yanking each other’s hair and grappling with a fury that left no room for remorse. The physical confrontation was liberating, an outlet for all the anger you had been holding back.

You felt no fear and no guilt towards the seventy-year-old woman. At last, you could release all the anger you had been holding in.

Waiting for karma takes too long, and you can’t expect God to do all the work. So you took this chance to give her a lesson she won’t forget.

“Stop! STOP!” Bucky and Julius’s voices cut through the chaos as they tried to separate you. Shawn and Hazel, their faces a mix of curiosity and apathy, slowly backed away from the scene.

It was a struggle to pry you apart; Caroline, in her rage, was more unruly and disheveled compared to your own controlled fury.

“Hufft,” you adjusted your disheveled dress and hair, glaring at Caroline with a fierce, triumphant look. “You know what? I hope your son wins, so I can rub my new position right in your face.”

Caroline’s expression was one of shock and fury, her face a portrait of someone who had been dealt a blow she wasn’t prepared for. Her eyes were wild with a mixture of anger and disbelief.

“You’re absolutely right,” you looked at Bucky, your voice steady. “It’s a once-in-a-lifetime chance to live in the White House.”

Caroline’s gritted her teeth.

“If the world wants to see us as a happily married couple,” you said with a cold smile, “I’ll give them the most blissful marriage they’ve ever seen. It’ll be the kind of marriage everyone talks about when they mention a perfect union.”

Bucky’s eyes widened in surprise at your cold declaration. For a moment, he was stunned, but as he processed your words, admiration and pride flickered across his face. He straightened, a hint of a smile forming, clearly impressed by your bold resolve and newfound strength.

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