#also more of Steve’s beard

[ivysos2001]

Never forgiving marvel for not giving us a rogue avengers movie bc we didn’t get enough of these three being badasses on the run together

I’m basically imagining catws meets buddy cop movie vibes (with some romanogers thrown in there ofc bc I’ve been rooting for them since 2014)

Like I love this trio sm and this would’ve been such a cool era to see on screen so I’m sad marvel left us almost completely in the dark about it

[steddiealltheway]

Something that is canon in my mind that I forget to tell people:

The reason why Steve can’t get bitches in his Scoops Ahoy era is because there’s a rumor going around that he’s gay (probably because someone caught him hooking up with Eddie)

[deoidesign]

Adam's turn... <3

I really like doing portraits like this... if they didn't take so long I'd do them way more

[jamesbukkakebarnes]

>:)

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Dinner with the mobster | Bucky Barnes

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> Mob!Single!Dad!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> Your boss - who is also the most feared man in town - asks you to go out for dinner with him. When he suggests taking his daughter with him, you agree to go out with them.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 2.295

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> (G) none, just fluff

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 -> Hi I absolutely love your work. I was wondering if you could write a mob boss! Single dad!Bucky Barnes x reader. Feel free to ignore if it makes you uncomfortable. Thank you 🤎🤎

𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you so much for your nice words, they really mean a lot and thank you for the sweet request. I wanted to write more for Mob!Bucky and your request was the perfect opportunity to do so. I hope you like what I made with it.🩷🩷 Divider made by @firefly-graphics.

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 -> AFG Fluff Bingo | Row Two-One | First Date | @anyfandomfluffbingo

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

James Buchanan Barnes, the most popular mobster in town, has at least one hundred men who are protecting him and another one hundred men as well as women who clean his house, cook for him, or do other chores. His house - his villa - near the forest is almost not even in town anymore. The man could have every woman, and almost every woman admires him. He has long brown hair, mostly tied into a bun; his beard is trimmed; he has ocean blue eyes; and he has a smile that could light up the darkest night. James has a muscular body, is tall, and is just the dream of every woman. But even though he could have it all, he lives with his daughter alone. But he has an eye on someone, someone who doesn’t look really interested in him, which slightly confuses him but makes her more interesting for the mobster.

“Daddy, look what I found,” his princess says with a proud smile, holding up a book in her hands.

He furrows his eyebrows, his legs spread, while he sits on his couch and waits for the woman he asked to come into his office. In his hand, he holds a glass of his favorite Bourbon while he looks at his daughter. She walks closer to him, pushing herself up to sit on his lap before she holds the book closer to his face. James reads the title on it and smirks.

“That’s the book your friends - my employees - wrote into, isn’t it?” he asks with a smirk.

He told all his closest employees to write into the book after his princess was sad about having just four people - next to her - written into it. Those people were James, Sam, Steve, and Natasha. And then she asked her daddy if he knew if some more who wanted to write into it. Of course she also has friends, but the little girl prefers the big men around her, commanding them around like her daddy does, and he enjoys seeing his well-working education.

“Do you wanna see it?” she asks, kissing her daddy’s cheek softly.

The small girl looks like James - just the smaller, female version - but she has the same brown hair, ocean blue eyes, and the same smirk and pout on her lips as her daddy.

“But just until Y/N is here,” James says, and he turns his daughter around.

With his hands wrapped around her tummy, he looks over her shoulder. Her small back is pressed against his broad chest. Then she opens the book and waits for her daddy to start reading. James does, and his princess is always telling him something about the pictures before he can turn to the next side.

After a few minutes, it knocks at the door, and he looks up to see you standing there, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. You play with your fingers, looking down, while you just stand there and wait for James to give you instructions.

“I- I can- I’m sorry for distracting you,” you mumble when your nervousness grows.

“No, it’s fine. I asked you to come here, so please come in,” he says with his rough voice, and you shiver slightly.

When you met him for the first time, he was scary, and being so close to such a dangerous man can still be scary, but he is all soft and sweet around you and makes you feel like you are special to him. Little do you know you’re special to him, and he would buy the whole town, the moon, or the whole universe for you just to see your smile and hear you laughing while he is the reason for it.

James leans closer to his daughter, kissing her cheek before he lifts her off his lap and places her in front of him.

“Tell Uncle Stevie he has to give you some cookies,” James says, laughing when he sees his daughter jumping around with a giggle before she runs out of the room.

His ocean blue eyes then meet you again, and he gets off the couch as well. James walks closer to the door, gripping the doorknob while he waits for you to walk into the room to close the door behind you. It makes you a bit uncomfortable to be all alone with him in a room, but you know you’re safe.

“Wanna drink something, Bourbon? It’s a good one, my favorite bourbon.”

“N-no, thank you. I- Uhm- I’m fine, really,” you mumble.

You could face palm yourself when you realize what you just said. He didn’t want to know more, just if you wanted to have a drink. You inhale deeply while he leads you to the couch. When the two of you are taking a seat, he smiles and turns his head toward you.

“Do you have any plans for tonight?”

“N-no. I can take care of your daughter when you have plans for tonight.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” he laughs softly and takes a sip of his bourbon. “More like, do you have time to go out with me?”

Your mouth drops open, and you swallow hard, rubbing your palms over your pants to dry the sweat.

“I- You’re my boss, James,” you say quietly, turning your head away.

He chuckles softly and slides his hand to your back, stroking it softly while he takes another sip of his bourbon. The shiver along your spine makes him grin even more, and the way your body reacts to his touch lets him admire you even more.

“I’m not asking you, actually. Babydoll, let me take you out, please.”

“I-I don’t want to overstep boundaries. I- James, I should go back to my room,” you mumble.

Bucky chuckles; the way his body vibrates against yours sent another shiver along your spine. His thumb moves closer to your lips before he slides it over them, making you gasp. Your boss is so close, you can feel his hot breath on your skin; his touches are like electricity, causing more goosebumps all over your skin. Bucky leans closer, his lips almost touching your ear, inhaling your scent before he kisses your earlobe.

“How about we take Mia with us? You love her, and she loves you.”

None of the two of you mentioned that there are feelings between you and Bucky. You nod softly, but he sees it and smiles, kissing your earlobe again. Then he pulls away.

“I will pick you up in an hour,” he says, getting up, and you follow.

The two of you walk to the door. He opens it and runs his fingers over your back before you walk out of the room and to yours to change into something better to go out with your boss.

Like he told you, he is knocking at your door an hour later, wearing a suit - like always - his cologne all around you, and you smile softly when you look into his beautiful face. His brown hair is tied back, and he holds the tiny hand of his daughter. She is smiling at you as well as her daddy, both admiring you in your dress. Bucky in another way as the girl, but they both can’t get their eyes off of you. Bucky clears his throat and takes a step to the side, letting you walk out of the room.

“You look beautiful, doll.”

You blush, scratching the back of your neck.

“Daddy said we gonna go to my favorite restaurant,” she tells you with a proud smile.

You’re still not pretty sure what to say or how to act since your boss has invited you to go out with him. So you smile nicely and walk with him and Mia to the cars in the garage.

Bucky is a gentleman, opening the door for you, making sure you’re comfortable, but always taking care of his daughter too.

When you arrive at the restaurant, he takes your hand in his, stroking his thumb over the back of your hand. He makes sure you’re comfortable; otherwise, he would immediately let go of your hand. But there is not even a hint of discomfort on your face, just a small smile on your lips. Together with you and Mia, he walks to the entrance, letting the two of you walk into it before he follows you.

“Good evening,” the waiter says, his muscles tensing when he sees Bucky.

“Good evening, a table for three by the name of Barnes.”

The man in front of Bucky nods and shows you the table. You’re helping Mia out of her jacket and talking to her while you walk through the restaurant. The eyes of the people widen when they see James walking with his daughter and a woman through the room. He smirks when he offers you a seat, takes your and Mia’s jackets out of your hands, and sits across from you, smiling widely with his steel blue eyes piercing into yours. His tattoo-covered arms rest with the sleeves slightly up and his arms on the table, and he just admires you while you look between Mia and him with a small smile.

“Good evening. Have you already decided what you like to eat?” a woman asks, her smile shy, and her eyes dart from Bucky to you and back to the muscular man.

“As always, for my daughter and for me,” he says, then turns his face to you and smiles softly. “And you, doll?”

A shiver rushes through your body, and butterflies go crazy in your belly when he calls you by that nickname in front of other people. Then you look at the waitress and order your food as well. She just nods, takes the menus, and walks back to the kitchen.

“Y/N?” Mia asks, her hand touching yours.

“Yes?”

“Do you like daddy?”

You almost choke on your own saliva when she asks that. Of course you do; who doesn’t? He is a gentle and soft man; he is beautiful, muscular, and makes you laugh. You feel safe with him, not just because there are always some of his men around, but just because of him. On the other hand, he doesn’t act in a soft way with others like you always thought, which makes the feelings you have for him stronger. Bucky doesn’t say anything to the question; he just smirks and waits for you to answer, wanting to know what you think about him.

“I-I- He is nice, but he is my boss,” you mumble.

“But you like him?”

“Yes, but I like you too, Mia.”

“So do you want to be my new mommy?”

This question caught you off guard, and your jaw drops immediately. Bucky chuckles are low and rough, causing your skin to tingle. He makes you feel things you never thought you would feel, especially not for him. The most fearful man in town, a mobster. But also your boss, a wonderful and sweet man and daddy of a beautiful and cute daughter.

“Say yes, and I’m gonna make you mine tonight,” he says.

Your breath hitches, your body shakes softly in anticipation, and you nod. Do you want it? Want to be his? Of course, you definitely want to be his.

“Y-yes.”

Mia smirks, ready to throw herself around your neck, but the food arrives at your table and she learned manners from her daddy, so she just squirms a bit in her seat but starts eating and smirks the whole time at you. Your cheeks are red, and you fix the plate with food in front of you instead of facing Bucky. What if he just wanted to know what you feel for him, but he just wants to play with you? But he is just so soft with you and not with any other woman around him.

“Doll?” his rough voice interrupts your thoughts, and you look at him. “Please let me make you mine. I know the way you look at me, and you’re the only woman I want to have. I have loved you since we first met.”

“O-Oke. B-But I can’t work for you then. H-How can I pay for my things?”

“You don’t have to pay anything. Don’t forget who you’re talking to; you will get everything you need, and you just need to ask me,” he tells you with the softest smile you have ever seen.

When you nod again, his eyes light up, and he can’t help but get up to walk around the table. He gets on his knees next to you, capturing your cheeks with his big hands before he leans closer and presses his soft, plumb lips on yours. Kissing you in a way no one has ever kissed you before, so filled with love and passion. When you kiss him back, he smirks, pulling you even closer, and your hands grip his shoulder, your fingers sliding along his neck. Mia cheers quietly, giggling and looking at the two of you in awe while he bits into her nugget. You blush when Bucky leans back, his thumb stroking your lips, and his blue eyes say more than words could ever say.

“I love you, doll. My precious doll.”

“I-I love you, too.”

“Andddddd I love you. And my nuggies,” Mia says, holding her nugget up to show it.

“Yeah. We love you too, little girl,” Bucky laughs and kisses you again, then he gets up and takes his seat again to finish eating.

Your cheeks are still red, especially when you recognize that everyone in the restaurant was looking at the two of you. But when you look at Bucky, every fear fades away, and you feel just loved by him.

┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨

𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬

┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛

Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @lives-in-midgard @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

whoops, dropped this…

{Bucky and Steve being the readers roommates and both really liking her and after months of borderline stalking her, they both just decide to both seduce and share her 😉}

Ours » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier and Steve Rogers/Captain America

Pairings: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Roommate!Female Reader x Roommate!Steve Rogers

Summary: Bucky and Steve like you so they decide to seduce you and share you.

Warnings: Smut (18+), language, stalking, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, fingering, female receiving, face sitting, blowjob, handjob, unprotected sex, threesome, metal arm kink, praise kink, size kink, spanking (playfully), pet names

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creator.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

Bucky and Steve promised each other years ago that they wouldn’t let a girl come in between them. That was until they met you and the three of you became roommates. They both like you. They have been following you around without you noticing. They were trying to figure out how to get you all to themselves. They talked it out and came to an agreement. They decided that they wanted to share you.

Steve and Bucky walked in the kitchen to see you cleaning the dishes from dinner. They walked up on either side of you, getting really close to you.

“Oh hi, boys. Do you need something?” You asked, turning your attention to them as you dried your hands.

They didn’t say anything. Bucky spun you around so you were facing him and your back was facing Steve. Bucky placed his hands on your waist while Steve put his hands on your hips.

“What are you two- oh!” The words died on your tongue when you felt Steve’s lips on your neck.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you tilted your head back against his shoulder, enjoying the feeling of his lips on your neck. Bucky’s metal hand found its way to your clothed pussy, his metal fingers rubbing your pussy through your shorts. A breathy moan fell from your lips.

That’s how the three of you ended up on your bed completely naked. Both of them marked you up with hickeys. Bucky was fucking you with his metal fingers. You were leaning against Steve’s body and your legs were held open by his legs. Steve’s hands were occupied with your breasts, his fingers were pinching your nipples every now and then. His lips pressed kisses along your neck and shoulders.

“Tell us how much you want us.” Steve says.

“I want you guys.” You say, more in a whimper.

“That’s not good enough.” Bucky says.

Bucky took his metal fingers out of your pussy, making you whine in frustration.

“I want both of you! I want both of you to fuck me!” You blurted out in desperation.

Bucky and Steve looked at each other and smirked. Bucky laid down on his back on the bed while Steve stood up on his knees.

“C’mere, babydoll.” Bucky says.

You got on top of Bucky, your pussy above his mouth. You moaned when he licked from your clit to your wet entrance. The stubble of his beard was scratching your inner thighs which added to the pleasure he was giving you. Steve moved himself in front of you, pumping his cock in his hand.

“Open that pretty little mouth, sweetheart.” He says, tapping his cock against your lips.

You parted your lips just enough for Steve to slide his cock in your mouth. You bobbed your head while looking up at Steve with an innocent look in your eyes. You moaned around Steve’s cock when Bucky unexpectedly slid two of his metal fingers in your pussy. He curled his fingers, hitting your sweet spot. He was also flicking his tongue against your clit. One of your hands blindly felt for Bucky’s cock. You wrapped your hand around it and pumped him in your hand, using precum as a lubricant. Steve put his hand on the back of your head, making you take more of his cock. You gagged a little when his tip hit the back of your throat. Spit pooled in your mouth, a little bit rolled down your chin.

You moved your hand faster on Bucky’s cock. He moaned against your pussy, sending vibrations against your pussy. Bucky’s free hand roamed your body, stopping on your ass cheek and gave it a squeeze. A surprised squeal left your lips when Bucky playfully slapped your ass cheek. He smirked to himself and did it again on your other ass cheek, earning the same reaction from you. He went back to pleasuring you. You continued sucking Steve’s cock while your hand was jerking off Bucky’s cock. You blindly felt for Bucky’s tip, swiping your thumb over it, causing him to moan against your pussy.

Steve’s hand remained on the back of your head while he thrusted his hips, fucking your mouth. You flatten out your tongue, allowing his cock to slide against the wet surface. You felt the veins of the underside of his cock against your tongue. Your eyes fluttered shut for moment, a soft moan leaving your lips. Your moment was cut short when Steve’s hand lightly tapped on your cheek. Your eyes opened and flickered up at him to see him looking down at you.

“Keep those pretty eyes open and on us, honey.” Steve says.

You hummed around his cock in response, sending vibrations against Steve’s cock, making him moan. Bucky’s metal fingers curled against your sweet spot. Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head and a loud muffled moan left your lips.

“Did I find your little spot, doll face?” Bucky asks.

You hummed as an answer. Bucky looked at Steve with a smug smirk plastered on his face like he was trying to make him jealous. Steve lightly growled at his best friend. He put your hair in a makeshift ponytail and wrapped his hand around it as he fucked your mouth to his advantage and you let him. Your hand moved as fast as it could on Bucky’s cock. Bucky’s tongue flicked against your clit while his metal fingers fucked you faster.

Your cunt clenched around his metal fingers when he curled them against your sweet spot again. Your orgasm was building up. You felt your lower stomach tighten. Bucky sensed it and quickened his movements with his tongue and fingers. It felt like you were about to fall over the edge. You whimpered, trying to tell Bucky that you’re about to cum.

“Gonna cum, doll?” Bucky asks more in a coo.

You hummed around Steve’s cock in response.

“Nothing’s stopping you, doll face.” He says huskily.

The more Bucky’s tongue flicked against your clit was about to send you over the edge. Soon enough you were right there. A loud muffled moan left your lips as you came. Bucky’s tongue gave your clit one last flick before licking up your release. Steve and Bucky were on the verge of cumming as well. Steve’s thrusts in your mouth got sloppier as he got closer to the edge. You moved your tongue along the underside of his cock, licking along the veins of his cock. That pushed Steve closer and closer to the edge. He finally came in your mouth and you swallowed all of it. A little bit of his cum rolled down your chin. Steve pulled his cock out of your mouth and you looked down at Bucky’s cock, helping him come closer and closer to his orgasm. You swiped your thumb over his tip a couple more times before he got sent over the edge and came. His cum got on your hand and some of it got on your chest and stomach.

Bucky eased you down to the bed and sat up next to Steve. Both Super Soldiers stared at you with hungry eyes, eyes clouded with lust. They licked their lips at the sight of their cum on you.

“Who do you want first, sweetheart?” Steve asks.

Before you could answer, you felt his fingers rubbing your clit. A moan left your lips instead of words.

“Use your big girl words, doll.” Bucky says.

“I want Steve to fuck me.” You finally answered. “I want to suck your cock, Bucky.” You say to Bucky.

“Hands and knees.” Steve orders.

You obey his orders and got into position. You stared up at Bucky with an innocent look in your eyes. His metal hand caressed your chin for a moment before rubbing his metal thumb across your bottom lip. You parted your lips just enough to poke your tongue out and lick his thumb. He slid his thumb in your mouth and you swirled your tongue around it like you’re about to do to his cock.

Steve positioned himself behind you. You jolted forward a little when his cock bumped your clit. He wrapped his hand around his cock, stroking it a couple times before lining it at your entrance. Bucky took his thumb out of your mouth and lined his cock at your lips, tapping his tip on your bottom lip. Your hand replaced his, stroking it while maintaining eye contact. You swiped your thumb across his tip, using his precum as a lubricant.

Steve slid his cock inside in your pussy, inch by inch. Your mouth fell open and your eyes fluttered shut when you felt how big he is. His hands found their place on your waist when his cock was deep inside of you. His thrusts were fast and hard, but also loving. You licked the veins on the underside of Bucky’s cock. He tilted his head back and moaned, enjoying the feeling. You licked from the base of his cock to his tip. Your tongue swirled around his tip a few times before you wrapped your lips around it, sucking on it as you took his cock in your mouth.

Bucky’s right hand gathered your hair in a ponytail and pushed your head further down on his cock to get you to take more of his cock. You gagged a little when his tip hit the back of your throat. He pushed your head all the way on his cock, your nose touching just above the base of his cock. One of your hands grasped his thigh, your nails digging in his skin.

“Breathe through your nose, babydoll.” Bucky coos. “Just like you did for Steve.” He says.

His metal hand around your jaw, tilting your head back just enough to get you to look up at him. You looked at him with teary eyes, a couple tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Aww, are our cocks too big for you to handle, doll face?” Bucky playfully mocks.

You tried your best to shake your head no, trying to tell them that you can take their cocks. You continued to look up at Bucky with an innocent look in your eyes as you sucked his cock. Steve was continuing to fuck you at a fast, but loving pace. He held onto your hips as he fucked you. Steve occasionally pulled you back towards him when he thrusted into you.

Bucky’s right hand reminded in your hair and he thrusted his hips forward, catching you off guard when the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, making you gag. He smirked to himself, liking the sound of you gagging on his cock. You bobbed your head faster. Saliva pooled in your mouth, a little bit of it rolled down your chin.

“You’re being such a good girl for us, sweetheart.” Steve praises, patting the side of your ass softly.

You moaned around Bucky’s cock in response, sending vibrations against his cock. Bucky moans softly and tilted his head back slightly at the feeling. One of Steve’s hands left your hip and found its way to the front of your body, blindly feeling for your clit and found it with ease. Your pussy clenched around his cock when his fingers began rubbing your clit.

“Fuck…” Steve moans at the feeling. “So tight.” He moans again.

Steve sped up his thrusts a little bit. You managed to take Bucky’s cock out of your mouth to catch your breath, even with his hand in your hair. You wrapped one of your hands around his cock and stroked it while you caught your breath, maintaining eye contact with him. While still maintaining eye contact with Bucky, you leaned your head forward, tilting it to the side. Your tongue licked from the base of his cock to his tip.

“You’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing that, doll face.” Bucky says, followed by a moan.

“Isn’t that the point, Bucky?” You playfully asked with a small giggle.

You sucked on his tip a little bit before putting his cock back in your mouth. You moaned around his cock when Steve’s fingers applied more pressure on your clit as he continued to rub it. Your pussy clenched around Steve’s cock again. Your orgasm began to build up the more he rubbed your clit. Steve could sense it.

“Gonna cum again, honey?” Steve asks.

You tried your best to nod your head yes while still sucking Bucky’s cock. Steve fucked you faster and continued to rub your clit. His cock hit your sweet spot at just the right angle. Your pussy fluttered around his cock at the feeling. You also moaned around Bucky’s cock.

“Fuck, doll…” Bucky moans when he felt the vibrations of your moans against his cock.

That’s when you knew he was getting close to cumming too. You decided to take his cock out of your mouth and jerked him off in your hand. You looked up at him with an innocent look in your eyes and bit your bottom lip. The innocent look almost made Bucky cum right then and there, but he wanted to hold back until you came. So did Steve.

You felt your lower stomach tighten. It felt like a tidal wave was about to come crashing down on you. Your pussy fluttering around Steve’s cock let Steve know that you were about to cum.

“Cum for us, sweetheart. Nothing’s stopping you.” Steve says.

That’s all it took for you to cum. Their names fell from your lips in a loud moan when you came on Steve’s cock. Steve fucked you through your orgasm and gave your clit one last rub before focusing on his own orgasm.

Your hand quickened its jerking movements on Bucky’s cock, bring him closer to the edge as well. You kitten licked his tip while still jerking him off. That was just enough for him to cum. Bucky tilted his head back and cursed, cumming on your face and chest. Your hand stroke his cock a couple more times to get the last of it out before stopping.

Steve’s hands tightened their grip on your hips when he fell over the edge. A loud curse word followed by your name left his lips when he came inside of you, painting your walls white. He thrusted a few more times before his thrusts came to a halt. He slowly pulled out of you and let go of your hips.

You fell over on the bed. Your body was spent and covered in sweat and cum. You couldn’t care less in the moment. Steve and Bucky stared at your naked body, covered in their cum, making them smirk to themselves. You didn’t even notice that one of them got off of the bed to get a wet washcloth from the bathroom to clean you up and the other one maneuvered you so you were laying properly on the bed. They then laid on each side of you, covering the three of you up with a blanket.

“Get some rest, sweetheart.” Steve says, kissing your forehead.

“You’re gonna need it for when we do it again, babydoll.” Bucky says, kissing the side of your head.

Their words sounded soft. That was the last words you heard them say before falling asleep. You had your head on Steve’s chest with his arm wrapped around your shoulders. Bucky had his metal arm wrapped around your waist protectively.

🩵💙🩵💙🩵💙🩵💙🩵💙🩵💙🩵💙🩵💙🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[buckyalpine]

Bucky feral over pregnant reader

Pure pregnancy fluff and filth. This was meant to be pure fluff and then as usual, I got carried away, idk why I decided to make it this dirty. 

I can’t get over Bucky being obsessed with you carrying his baby. Yes he’s excited to be a dad but there’s something about the fact that it’s you. You’re pregnant because of him, it’s his little one in your perfect belly. Every tiny change he notices in your body makes him swoon from, from your swollen achy feet to your tender breasts, and your slightly plumper cheeks. 

He fucking loves it. 

Your his baby mama and nothing else matters, he’s so proud and in love with you. The swell of your tummy makes his heart beat faster, and the more it grows, the more irresistible he finds you.

“You’re carrying my baby” he coos, wrapping his hands around your tummy while you stand in the kitchen grabbing a snack. He’s happy to cradle the little bump in his arms, easing some of the tension from your back, doing anything to help you feel better. He’s such a lovesick puppy, always looking at you with heart eyes and it doesn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the team. 

“Look, he’s going it again” Sam whispered to Steve, the both of them watching Bucky watching you flit around the kitchen with his chin resting on his hands, sighing, enamored with how pretty you are with your cute little waddle. 

“Does he plan on moving any time soon?”

“Nope” 

Bucky is so busy admiring you, he doesn’t realize the team has started timing records for how long he just sits and watches because they find it utterly and disgustingly adorable. 

He wants to make love to you the entire time, every hour if possible but mama also needs her rest so he doesn’t try to tire you out. That doesn’t mean he keeps his hands to himself, especially when you’re extra hormonal and needy. 

“I got you, mama” He soothes you, pulling your soaked cotton panties off and pulling up your oversized shirt over your belly, his hands gently holding onto your hips and he pushes himself inside. He loves this position with your thighs spread apart, belly on full display, watching your face contort with pleasure, watching his cock thrust in and out of your dripping cunt.

It takes everything in him not to cum instantly, fucking his pretty, very pregnant girl, knowing he knocked her up, it’s his cum that has her all round and perfect, their love making that’s giving him a family. 

“Fuck mama, m’gonna cum” He can’t help the whine and whimper of his voice, muscles tensed from trying to hold back but he can’t, your body is so warm and soft, “S’too much, balls feel to heavy, you make my cock so sensitive, s’all fucked up, I can’t-f-fuuckk” His hips stutter and he’s  spilling ropes of his creamy spend into you, already thinking of getting you pregnant immediately after. 

He can’t resist you even when you’re asleep. 

“Jamie” you whine, your futile protests turning into a needy moan when you feel his tongue brush over your clit, his head between your legs, the time on the clock 1:15AM. 

“Please mama? Wanna make you feel good pretty baby, you deserve it” He just had to get a taste and he doesn’t relent till his beard is soaked and your a shaky, trembling mess. He suckles and nurses off your clit like it’s keeping him alive, pumping his fingers in and out of you till your eyes roll all the way back and your voice is cracking from screaming. 

Your pregnancy has made him down right filthy and feral. Like when you finished up your shower, wrapped in nothing but a towel that barely covered anything. Bucky was sitting on the bed with a book in his hands, the story now long forgotten when he sees you sitting by the vanity, applying your lotion. You let the towel drop to the floor, now bare naked while rubbing silky cream onto your sensitive skin. 

“Fuck, y’can’t do that doll” Bucky groans, his eyes trailing to your peaked buds down to your stretch marks and plush thighs, the soft rolls of your back making him feral, something he desperately wants to grab and squeeze them in his hands. “Let me help you, mama” 

He’s about to set his book down but you can’t help but tease him, shaking your head instead. 

“Y’know I can do this myself baby, I need to move around, doctors orders” 

He knows you’re right but that doesn’t stop all his blood rushing down to his now aching cock, screaming for attention. He palms himself, hoping it’d be enough to calm down but nope. You start to massage your swollen breasts, the smirk on your face shows you know what your doing. His cock ends up in his hand, book thrown aside, chest heaving up and down. 

“Fuck, m’so hard” He moans, stroking himself while you giggle, continuing with your routine. “S’not fair babygirl, makes my cock hurt when you look so pretty like that” 

He’s careful to use slow, languid strokes because any tighter and he’d cum all over his fist. At some point his metal hand cups his balls because his body feels too hot and they’re so fucking full. He could cum just from watching you but he’s more greedy than ever. 

“Mama. c’mere, please” he pleads with glassy eyes between moans, struggling to keep his eyes open. 

“Need something Jamie?” You coo, your perfect naked form causing spurts of precum to shoot from his tip while you saunter over to him, removing his hand from his cock and pulling him to stand up. He’s about to ask what you’re doing, stuttering when you bite your lip. 

“Oh god, fuck, no, you-you can’t-” He chokes out while you sink to your knees, taking the head  of his cock in your mouth, swirling your tongue around. He sobs at how angelic you look, your breasts heavier than ever, tummy nearly touching the floor. You’re a whole Goddess, on your knees, sucking his dick, pregnant with his baby, Bucky swears he’s died and gone to heaven. 

“Fuck, A-angel, don’t do this to me, m’gonna cum so much, feels too good, you’re so pretty” He cups your cheeks with softly, whining when you pull of him with a pop, his arousal making your lips and chin glossy, dribbling down your neck. 

“Go on daddy, mark me” You smirk while he furiously jerks his cock above your face, cursing under his breath, his cock swelling in his fist. He feels his balls pull tight to his body, his heavy length leaking and already dripping on your face. 

“OH GOD” He nearly roars, coating your entire face with his warm, sticky spend. “FUCK YES” he lets the last few drops fall onto your belly, your body perfectly covered in him. He kisses it all off with sloppy kisses, hard again with him minutes, this time filling your perfect pussy up instead. 

By the time he’s done, you need to shower again anyway, which he’s perfectly happy with, this time excited to join you. 

“C’mon mama, lets get you cleaned up again” 

Sorry. 

[buckets-and-trees]

Obsidian Stain and Sin

Characters/Pairings: soft!dark Ari Levinson x Female!Reader, soft!dark Curtis Everett x Female!Reader, Ari x Reader x Curtis Word Count: 8.1k Summary: You've thought of getting your first tattoo for a long time. When you walk into Obsidian Stain Studio, you experience services beyond what you bargained for.

Content/Warnings: tattooing/needles, DUBIOUS CONSENT, explicit smut, semi-public sex, vaginal fingering, kissing, anal play/rimming (female receiving), eating it from behind, vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex, praise kink, innocence kink, corruption kink, size kink, manhandling, fade to black/abrupt ending

Author Notes: I've had this idea all summer. I've been eager to write it, but literally the muse only kept teasing me with it until literally about six hours ago when she said, WE'RE DOING THIS, AND WE'RE DOING THIS NOW, so it's almost late/maybe it's still you're birthday week for a hot minute in some time zone, but I'm slipping this to you @stargazingfangirl18 for your Birthday Bonenanza! Literally, when I tell you that when you originally tagged me in the announcement, and I read over the myriad of prompts, I thought, "Oh, wow, this is so tattoo Curtis and Ari coded, it HAS TO happen for Siri's birthday..." that's really how my brain thought it was finally going to get the jump on working on this. But then no. Then that other Steve story happened, and I was stoked about that. Then the new chapter for Nomad Steve, and I thought, ah well, still fun stuff, maybe someday this, and then AT THE LAST MOMENT, Muse pulled a plot twist. So here's some ruinous hoe shit. Multiple dialogue prompts from the challenge are used here, and you'll find them in bold.

A/N 2: Shout out to @vonalyn for a few convos hashing out some of this concept!

You are surprised by the tinkling of a classic bell hanging over the door that rings pleasantly as you enter the tattoo parlor.

A man behind the reception desk immediately looks up to greet you. He doesn’t shoot you a phony, business-y smile, but his demeanor is still warm and approachable. “Welcome,” he greets you. “Walk-in or appointment?” he asks.

“Um, walk-in,” you manage. In a black t-shirt with shoulders that are nearly bursting through the fabric, lush hair and beard, and striking blue eyes, he’s more than an impressive specimen. “If you’ve got an opening?” you quickly add.

“Sure, we can take you,” he says. His gaze flicks to a scheduling book in front of him on the counter. “A couple of the boys are on break or about to finish up with other clients. Your first time here, yes?”

You nod. “First tattoo ever.”

“Oh,” he says, and his eyes brighten. “Even better. Let’s get you booked in.”

He takes your name, email, and phone number to set up a profile for you in their system. There are some electronic consent forms that he takes you through and has you agree to and sign on an iPad, and then he takes asks a few questions about what you’re interested in.

“Based off what you have in mind, Curtis might be the best artist, but he won’t be finished for maybe an hour.”

“Ah,” you look at your watch. It was a bit of an impromptu idea for you to drop in to get the tattoo this afternoon, and you had time, but you had probably been foolish thinking a walk-in was any sort of good idea.

“But,” he interjects, “I’ve got two other guys who are excellent, and either one of them should be ready to take you pretty soon. Take a seat just over there, and I’ll go check in with them and get a call on time for you. I’ll also grab you a drink. Pick your poison - we’ve got water or Coke products.”

You give him your preference, and he nods and smiles.

“Right then, sit tight, and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

He disappears around the corner, and you do as you’ve been told and take a seat on one of the black leather couches in the lobby.

Now you have time to really take in your surroundings. The walls are black with white moldings at the floor and ceiling, and the hardwood floors are a warm walnut. Everything is dark but clean. Classic but clearly in line with current trends. On the wall behind the desk, there’s a gorgeous, white-lettered feature with shop name - Obsidian Stain Studio - that’s sleek and impressive. On the wall next to you, there are ten framed pieces of art on the wall in a mix of sizes, some of them hand-drawn artwork, and the rest photos of finished tattoos on skin.

You’re nervous but determined not to be, so you cross your legs and try to keep your anxious energy limited to just running your fingers back and forth over the edge of your phone. Looking at the different designs on the wall does serve to capture your attention, though, and quell your nerves slightly.

The man working reception returns and hands you the drink. “We should have you back there in a chair in ten or fifteen minutes.”

“Great,” you respond, and the nerves kick up a notch, but it’s with a surge of excitement.

This is happening.

You take a sip of your drink, grateful for something to occupy your hands. The cool liquid helps soothe your nerves a bit. As you wait, you observe a few other clients entering and leaving the shop checking in or paying as they leave. Some sport fresh bandages, while others are clearly here for consultations, clutching sketches or reference photos.

The buzzing of tattoo machines creates a constant backdrop of sound, occasionally punctuated by muffled laughter or conversation from the back rooms. The atmosphere is more relaxed than you expected, nineties music underscoring it all.

As you wait, a couple emerges from behind the partition separating the lobby from the work area. They're both grinning, the woman cradling her forearm gently. Her companion is animatedly discussing something with her, gesturing excitedly. You catch a glimpse of fresh ink on her skin as they pass – a vibrant butterfly with intricate, colorful wings.

The sight makes your heart race a little faster. Soon, that'll be you walking out with fresh art on your body. The thought is both thrilling and slightly terrifying.

But you won’t be walking out with a friend or partner.

Your gaze wanders back to the artwork on the walls. One piece in particular catches your eye – an intricate mandala design with flowing lines and delicate detail. You find yourself drawn to its symmetry and complexity.

"Which one’s got your attention?" a voice asks, startling you from your reverie. You look up to see someone you can only describe as a lion of a man standing before you. All of his attention is focused on you like you’re his next prey. He towers over you with a mane of golden brown hair that’s grown out to tuck nicely behind his ears and curls out at his neck. He’s got a broad chest and shoulders covered in a denim shirt with a few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up past his elbows. You can see peeks of ink mingled with some chest hair as well as intricate designs over his forearms. His dark blue eyes are zeroed in on you in a way that both unsettles and steadies you at the same time.

You point at the mandala, and the man smiles. “That’s one of Steve’s. He says you’re here for your first tattoo.”

“He… wait, is that Steve?” You nod and glance over at the man at the front desk who’s now consulting with an older man and showing him a few designs.

“Yep, he owns the place and loves to work the front almost as much as the back with the rest of us. I’m Ari, by the way.” He puts his hand out, inviting you to shake hands.

You push up from the couch, stand, and offer your hand for the shake. It’s engulfed easily by his big, warm, calloused hand.

“I’m the one who’s going to make your first time special.”

Your heart stutters and your face flushes. He didn’t just… your mind races. Did he?

He chuckles and drops your hand quickly. “Follow me,” he says and turns and begins striding into the back.

You fall into step behind Ari, your eyes inevitably drawn to his broad shoulders and the confident swagger in his step. The back area is an open space divided into several stations with partial walls, each with its own tattoo chair and equipment, creating semi-private booths. Ari leads you to one in the back corner.

"Have a seat," he says, gesturing to the chair.

You perch on the edge, your nerves returning full force. The air is thick with the scent of antiseptic and ink.

He pulls up a rolling stool and sits, leaning in close. "So, tell me about this tattoo you want."

You explain your idea - a simple constellation of stars for your zodiac sign - watching as his blue eyes light up with interest. He nods along, occasionally asking questions or offering suggestions. His enthusiasm is infectious, and you find yourself relaxing despite the butterflies in your stomach.

"Alright, I think I know what you're after," Ari says, reaching for a sketchpad. "Let me rough out a design for you."

You watch, mesmerized, as Ari's hand moves swiftly across the paper. His brow furrows in concentration, and you find yourself studying the angles of his face, the way his beard accentuates his strong jaw. Within minutes, he presents you with a design that takes your breath away.

"What do you think?" he asks, a hint of pride in his voice.

The constellation is there, just as you imagined, but Ari has added subtle details that elevate it beyond your expectations. Delicate lines connect the stars, and a hint of shadowing gives the piece depth and movement.

"It's perfect," you breathe, unable to take your eyes off the sketch.

Ari grins, clearly pleased with your reaction. "Great. Now, let's talk placement."

You indicate the spot you've chosen - your inner wrist. Ari nods approvingly. "Good choice. Nice and visible, but easy to cover if needed. Mind if I take a look?"

You extend your arm, and Ari gently takes your wrist in his large hands. His touch is surprisingly soft as he examines the area, his fingers tracing the spot where your tattoo will soon be. You can't help but notice the contrast between his rough, inked skin and your own unmarked flesh.

"Nice canvas," he murmurs, more to himself than to you. "Skin's good here. This'll work well." He looks up, catching your eye. "Ready to get started?"

You nod, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling in your chest.

“You’re a sweet, innocent thing, aren’t you?”

You open your mouth but shut it again, unsure how to respond, and he brushes his thumb over the pulse on your inner wrist, and you think you see his eyes darken.

He releases your wrist and turns to prepare his equipment. You’re frozen in place, but luckily that’s fine as it’s not necessary for you to move. You watch as he efficiently sets up his station, laying out ink caps, adjusting his machine, and pulling on a fresh pair of black latex gloves. The buzz of the tattoo machine as he tests it sends a jolt of excitement and nervousness through you.

"Alright, I'm going to clean the area now," he says, swabbing your wrist.

His touch is clinical now, professional, as he prepares your skin. The cool antiseptic makes you shiver slightly.

"Cold?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"A little," you admit.

"Don't worry, I’ll have you warm soon enough," he says with a wink that makes your cheeks flush.

Ari places the stencil on your wrist, pressing it gently to transfer the design. When he peels it away, you see the outline of your constellation on your skin for the first time. It sends a thrill through you - this is really happening.

"Make sure you’re happy with the placement before we start," he instructs. "This is your last chance to change your mind."

You focus to examine the design on your skin more closely, heart racing. It looks even better than you imagined.

"It's perfect," you say, unable to keep the excitement from your voice.

Ari grins. "Alright then, let's make it permanent. You ready?"

You nod, settling back into the chair and extending your arm.

Ari takes your arm gently, positioning it just so on the armrest. "Now, I need you to stay as still as possible," he says, his voice low and soothing. "It's going to hurt a bit, especially at first. But I promise, I'll be as gentle as I can."

The buzz of the machine fills your ears as Ari brings the needle to your skin. You hold your breath, bracing for the pain.

The first touch of the needle is a sharp, burning sensation that makes you wince. Ari pauses, his eyes flicking to your face. "You okay?"

You nod, determined. "I'm fine. Keep going."

“Move an inch, and you’ll be sorry.”

You open your mouth wordlessly again, and he laughs.

“Only joking. I know you’re going to be a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

You bite your lip and nod, something fluttering in your stomach, mixing wickedly with your nerves and the uncertainty around this man who skirts between being casual, soothing your nerves, concentration on his craft, and making these comments that insinuate and evoke wholly inappropriate thoughts.

He smiles, then concentrates back on your wrist and resumes his work. Gradually, the initial shock of pain fades into a more manageable discomfort. You find yourself relaxing, mesmerized by the steady movement of Ari's hand and the way the muscles in his biceps move and flex.

As Ari continues, your eyes shift to his face. His brow is furrowed in concentration, his blue eyes focused intently on your skin. There's something mesmerizing about watching him work, seeing the care and precision he puts into every line. The buzz of the machine becomes almost soothing, a constant backdrop to the occasional murmur of voices from other stations.

"So," Ari says after a while, breaking the silence without looking up from his work, "what made you decide to get your first tattoo today?"

You hesitate, unsure how much to share. "It's… kind of a long story."

Ari glances up, a small smile playing on his lips. "We've got time. I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you."

You take a deep breath, wincing slightly as the needle hits a sensitive spot. "I've been thinking about it for a while. But today… today felt like it was finally the day to take the leap."

"Spontaneous decision, huh? Those can be the best kind."

You nod, feeling the heat creep up your neck. "I guess I just wanted to do something for myself. Something permanent.”

Ari nods thoughtfully, his eyes still focused on your wrist. "Sometimes we need a physical reminder of the changes we're making inside," he says softly. "Something to look at and think, 'Yeah, I did that. I made that choice.'"

His words resonate with you, and you find yourself relaxing further. The pain has faded to a dull, almost pleasant sensation.

"So, what's your story?" you ask, curiosity getting the better of you. "How did you get into tattooing?"

Ari chuckles, pausing to wipe away excess ink. "Now that's definitely a long story. But the short version? I was a troubled kid, got into some bad stuff. Tattooing saved me, gave me a purpose."

He glances up, meeting your eyes. "There's something powerful about creating permanent art on someone's body.”

The words send another thrill through your body and you nod, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickens at his intense gaze. "I can see that," you manage to say.

Ari returns his attention to your wrist, a small smile playing on his lips. "It's intimate, you know? Creating something that becomes a part of someone forever."

The word 'intimate' hangs in the air between you, charged with unspoken tension. You're acutely aware of the warmth of his hand on your skin, the gentle pressure as he works.

“You’re the one Steve says I nearly got to mark for the first time,” a new voice startles you, and you jump slightly in your chair.

Ari tsks, but his left hand had been holding your arm down firmly.

The other man chuckles. “Sorry, sugar.”

He steps closer, coming into Ari’s booth. He looks to be slightly taller than Ari, and a shade leaner, but he’s still built with more muscles than the common man. His hair is dark, shorn close to his head, and a dark beard covers his angular jaw. Ice blue eyes pierce into you, and you fight hard to suppress an actual shiver running down your spine.

"Curtis," Ari says without looking up, his tone a mix of amusement and mild irritation. "Didn't anyone teach you it's rude to interrupt?"

Curtis leans against the partition, crossing his arms over his chest. The movement draws your attention to the intricate tattoos covering his forearms. He’s got more ink than Ari.

"Just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Steve said we had a noteworthy first-timer."

You feel your face flush, unsure whether to be flattered or embarrassed. Curtis's gaze is intense, almost predatory, as he looks you over.

"Well, now you've seen," Ari says, his voice tight. "Don't you have your own client to attend to?"

Curtis huffs. "Just finished up. Thought I'd come say hello." He turns his attention back to you. "How're you holding up, sweetheart? Ari treating you right?"

You nod, finding your voice. "He's been great," you manage to say, your voice a bit shaky. "It doesn't hurt as much as I expected."

Curtis grins, a glint in his eye. "Oh, Ari knows how to make it feel good, doesn't he?"

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks at the innuendo. Ari's hand tightens slightly on your wrist, and you see his jaw clench.

"Curtis," Ari says, his tone a clear warning.

Curtis holds up his hands. "Alright, alright. I can take a hint." He fixes his gaze once again on your face. "Maybe next time you'll let me be the one to mark you up. Lot more skin still to explore."

With that, he stalks away, leaving a charged atmosphere in his wake. You can feel the tension radiating off Ari as he resumes his work on your tattoo, his jaw clenched.

“Sorry about that,” Ari says after a moment, his voice low. "Curtis can be… intense."

You nod, still feeling flustered from the encounter. "It's okay," you manage to say, trying to calm your racing heart.

Ari looks up at you, his blue eyes searching your face. "You alright? Need a break?"

You shake your head. "No, I'm fine. Let's keep going."

He nods, returning his attention to your wrist. The buzz of the machine fills the silence between you once more. You try to focus on the sensation, the slight sting as the needle moves across your skin, rather than the lingering tension in the air.

After a few minutes, Ari speaks again. "You know, you don't have to let anyone pressure you into anything you're not comfortable with. Not here, not anywhere."

His words surprise you, and you meet his gaze. There's a protective glint in his eye, but he quickly returns his attention to your wrist. Ari's movements become more deliberate, almost possessive, as he continues working on your tattoo. The tension in the air is palpable, and you find yourself hyper-aware of every point of contact between your skin and his.

"Almost done," he murmurs after what feels like both an eternity and no time at all. "Just a few more touches."

You watch as he adds the final details, marveling at how the constellation seems to come to life on your skin. When he finally sits back, setting down the machine, you can't help but gasp.

"It's beautiful," you breathe.

Ari's eyes meet yours, a mixture of pride and something deeper in his gaze. “It suits you perfectly."

You feel a warmth spread through your chest at his words. Ari gently wipes away the last traces of excess ink, revealing the full beauty of your new tattoo. The stars seem to shimmer on your skin, the delicate lines connecting them creating a sense of movement and depth.

"Now, let's get this wrapped up and I'll go over the aftercare instructions with you," Ari says, reaching for a roll of clear film.

As he carefully covers your new tattoo, his fingers brush against your skin, sending little sparks of electricity through you. You can't help but notice how his large hands handle your wrist with such care and precision.

"There," he says, smoothing down the edges of the wrap. "All protected."

Ari walks you to the front, and your heart races when you see Steve and Curtis speaking quietly with their heads together. Ari clears his throat, and at the sight of you, Curtis nods, rakes his gaze over you once more. “Come back soon, sugar.”

You feel a shiver run down your spine at Curtis's words, but Ari's steady presence beside you helps ground you. Steve steps forward, a warm smile on his face.

"How did it go?" he asks, his eyes flickering to your wrapped wrist.

"It was amazing," you reply, unable to keep the excitement from your voice. "Ari did an incredible job." You extend your wrist, showing off your new tattoo.

Steve nods approvingly. "Beautiful work. Ari’s one of our best. Let's get you checked out."

As Steve begins to ring up your work, Ari leans against the counter beside you. His arm brushes against yours, and you're acutely aware of his proximity.

"Remember," he says softly, his voice low enough that only you can hear, "take care of it. It's a part of you now."

You nod, shyly meeting his intense gaze, looking up at him through your lashes. "I will," you promise, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ari's eyes soften, and he reaches out, his fingers ghosting over the edge of the wrap on your wrist. "Good girl," he murmurs, the words sending a shiver down your spine.

Steve clears his throat, breaking the moment. "All set," he says, handing you a receipt. "We hope to see you again soon."

You nod, suddenly feeling flustered. "Thank you," you manage to say, gathering your things.

As you turn to leave, Ari's hand catches your elbow gently. "Wait," he says, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a small business card and presses it into your hand. "In case you have any questions about the aftercare. Or anything else."

Your fingers brush as you take the card, and you feel a jolt of electricity at the contact. You look down at the card, noting the personal cell phone number scrawled on it. "Thank you."

Ari's blue eyes lock with yours, intense and filled with unspoken promise.

You barely seem to turn away, but somehow manage to break off from the eye contact, and quickly rush out of Obsidian Stain Studio.

You keep Ari’s business card, but as the weeks go by, you don’t use it.

After a couple of months, you move the card from the spot next to where you keep your keys where you see it every day, into the top drawer of your desk. Out of frequent sight, but not out of mind completely.

It’s a solid six months before you return to Obsidian Stain again, but ultimately you do. The bell jingles above your head as you step inside.

The tattoo on your wrist had healed beautifully, and you loved seeing it on your skin. You had decided fairly soon afterwards that you wanted another tattoo, but even after saving up for your next one, it had taken you longer to decide whether to return Obsidian or not, the experience with Ari and encounters with Curtis leaving you torn between terrified and desperately curious to go back.

Ultimately the allure was too strong to deny.

But, more logically, although finally going in to get your first tattoo had been on a whim, you had been very thorough in narrowing down and exploring your options for months before. You knew they were one of the best in your area, especially for the style you wanted, and the price point you knew you could afford while still ensuring quality.

Unwilling to make an appointment, though, you were going to gamble on a walk-in again.

No one was immediately at the front desk, but at the sound of the bell, Steve quickly appears. “Welcome back,” he said, a broad grin on his face.

“Walk-in?” you ask, and remind him of your name.

“Oh, I remember you.” Steve beckons you forward. “Let me see that wrist,” he says.

You offer your arm with pride, and he smiles warmly.

“Looks good. You hit us on a slow day, perfect for a walk in. I’ll get you booked in, and then I’ll take you right back.”

You feel a mix of excitement and nervousness as Steve leads you to the back. The familiar scent of antiseptic and ink fills your nostrils, bringing back memories of your last visit. Your eyes scan the room, half hoping and half dreading to see a certain tattooist.

"Curtis is free right now," Steve says, guiding you to a station. "He'll take good care of you."

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of Curtis's name. You remember his intense gaze, his bold words from your last visit. Part of you is disappointed it's not Ari, but another part is intrigued.

Curtis looks up as you approach, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Well, well. Look who's back," he says, his ice blue eyes locking onto yours.

You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very exposed under his gaze. "Hi," you manage evenly.

Curtis's eyes rake over you. "I was hoping you'd come back to us," he says, his voice low and smooth. "What can I do for you today, sugar?"

You begin to explain the design you have in mind - a delicate, line art floral piece. As you talk, Curtis listens intently, occasionally nodding or asking questions. His focus is entirely on you, making you feel both nervous and oddly thrilled.

“And where do you want it?” he finally asks.

You trace an area of your other arm - opposite of the one with your inked-up wrist — moving your fingers over the delicate skin between your wrist and up toward the crook of your elbow.

“Hmm,” he hums. “You sure?”

Your eyes shoot to his. “Yes?” an edge of hesitation now in your voice at his query.

He narrows his eyes slightly, then shakes his head. “No.”

“No?”

“No. A piece like this could work well there, but that’s not where you want me to put this.”

“It… isn’t?”

“No, it should go here,” he says, and he reaches out and brushes his fingers lightly over your ribs instead, causing you to shiver.

He gestures for you to take a seat in the chair. As you settle in, Curtis rolls his stool closer, leaning in. "Now, this is going to be a bit more intense than your other wrist. You sure you're ready for it?"

You nod, trying to project confidence despite the nervous flutter in your stomach. "I'm ready."

Curtis grins, a predatory glint in his eye. "That's what I want to hear from that pretty mouth. Now just sit tight and wait for me while I draw something up.”

Your heart races as you lean back in the chair, Curtis's words echoing in your mind, causing heat to pool in your core. You watch, mesmerized by the intensity of his focus. After a few minutes, he turns back to you, holding up the sketch.

"What do you think?" he asks.

Your breath catches in your throat. The design is beautiful - delicate flowers and vines intertwining in a way that would perfectly follow the curve of your ribs.

"It's perfect," you breathe, unable to take your eyes off the design.

Curtis smirks, clearly pleased with your reaction. "Alright then, let's get started. I'm going to need you to lift your shirt for me."

Your cheeks flush as you slowly raise the hem of your shirt, exposing your ribs. Curtis's eyes darken as they roam over your skin.

"Beautiful canvas," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.

You feel exposed, knowing your own soft belly and imperfections, but he looks at you in a way that has your head spinning, it’s a hunger that’s almost reverent.

“Better if you take your shirt off for me, sugar,” he says, his tone firm.

Head swirling, you don’t think to refuse, just do as you’re told. With trembling hands, you pull your shirt over your head, feeling incredibly vulnerable as you sit there in just your bra. Curtis's eyes roam over your exposed skin, a look of satisfaction on his face.

"That's better," he says, his voice low and approving. "Now, let's get you positioned just right."

His hands, surprisingly gentle, guide you to lie back and slightly to the side. You shiver as his fingers trail along your ribs, mapping out where the tattoo will go.

"Nervous?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his tone.

He already knows the answer, but you nod, not trusting your voice.

Curtis leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. "Don't worry, sugar. I'll take good care of you."

Your breath catches in your throat at his words. He chuckles softly, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you.

Curtis begins to clean and prepare your skin, his touch clinical yet somehow still intimate. You try to steady your breathing, hyperaware of every point of contact between his hands and your body.

"Now, this is going to hurt more than your wrist did," Curtis warns, his voice low. "But I know you can take it. You're tougher than you look, aren't you, sugar?"

You nod, steeling yourself for the pain. The buzz of the tattoo machine fills the air, and then you feel the first bite of the needle against your skin. You gasp, your body tensing.

"Breathe," Curtis instructs, his free hand coming to rest on your hip, grounding you. "That's it, nice and steady."

As he works, Curtis surprisingly stokes and then keeps up a steady stream of conversation. Mostly it’s inquiry after inquiry, forcing you to focus on finding words, but his deep voice also helps to distract you from the pain. He asks about your life, your interests. You find yourself opening up, sharing more than you intended about your life, your dreams, your fears. His voice continues to provide the counterpoint to the buzz of the tattoo machine.

"You're doing so well," Curtis murmurs, his eyes flicking up to meet yours before returning to his work. "Such a good girl for me."

The praise sends a shiver through you, and you bite your lip to stifle a small moan. Curtis notices, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

"Sensitive, aren't you?" he says, his voice low. "I like that."

Your cheeks flush, but you can't deny the thrill his words send through you. The pain of the tattoo blends into the sensations he’s evoking as his hands move with practiced precision across your skin.

"So, sugar, what made you come back for more ink?" he asks, his eyes flicking up to meet yours before returning to his work.

You take a shaky breath before answering. "I loved how the first one turned out. And… I guess I wanted to experience it again."

Curtis chuckles, darkly. "Addictive, isn't it? The pain, the permanence... the intimacy of it all."

His words make your heart race, and you're acutely aware of how close he is, how vulnerable you are beneath his hands.

"Speaking of your first time," Curtis continues, the steadying hand that had been at your waist ghosting just a little lower, "Ari seemed quite taken with you. Did you ever give him a call?"

The question catches you off guard, and you feel a flush creep up your neck. "No, I… I didn't," you admit softly.

Curtis's hand stills for a moment, and he looks up at you, his ice blue eyes intense. "No? Now that's interesting. Why not, sugar?"

You swallow hard, unsure how to answer, yet unable to stop the words from flowing. "I... I guess I was nervous," you finally say.

A slow smile spreads across Curtis's face. "Nervous? Of Ari? Or of what you felt?”

Your cheeks flush at his perceptiveness. "Both, maybe," you whisper.

“Or maybe you were waiting for something else?" His hand resumes its work, but the touch his anchor hand seems more deliberate now, each movement charged with unspoken intent.

"I don't know what you mean.”

Curtis chuckles, a low, dark sound that sends shivers down your spine. "I think you do, sugar. I think you knew exactly what you were doing when you came back here today."

His words hang in the air between you, charged with tension. You can't bring yourself to deny it, can't even find your voice to respond. Curtis seems to take your silence as confirmation.

"That's what I thought," he murmurs, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. "You're full of surprises, aren't you?"

The buzz of the tattoo machine fills the silence as Curtis returns his focus to your ribs. You try to steady your breathing, acutely aware of every point of contact between his skin and yours. The pain of the tattoo blends with the heat pooling in your core, creating a heady mix of sensations.

"Tattoo nearly done," Curtis says after what feels like hours.

You let out a shaky breath, a mix of relief and disappointment washing over you. The intense experience is coming to an end, but part you that scares you doesn't want it to.

"Just a few more touches," Curtis murmurs, his eyes focused intently on your skin, and the buzz of the machine continues for a few more minutes.

"There we go," Curtis murmurs. He wipes away the excess ink, then sits back to admire his work. His eyes roam over your exposed skin, a mixture of professional pride and something darker in his gaze. "Want to take a look?"

You nod, not trusting your voice. Curtis helps you sit up, steadying you with a hand on your lower back as you move to face the mirror. Your breath catches in your throat as you see the intricate design now adorning your ribs. The delicate flowers and vines seem to bloom across your skin, following the curves of your body perfectly.

"It's perfect," you whisper, unable to take your eyes off the mirror.

Curtis's smile widens, and his eyes darken. "Of course it is. I knew exactly what you needed."

His words send another shiver through you, but then suddenly you feel the heat of him too close, and he’s pressed right up against your back, planting his large hands on your hips and caging you in.

"You're trembling," Curtis murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. His hands tighten on your hips, holding you steady against him. "Are you scared, sugar?"

You can't find your voice to answer, your heart pounding in your chest. You're acutely aware of every point of contact between your bodies - his broad chest against your back, his strong hands on your hips, the heat of him seeping through your skin.

"Or maybe," he continues, his voice low and dark, "you're excited."

One of his hands slides up your side, carefully avoiding the fresh tattoo, until it comes to rest just below your breast. Your breath hitches, and you see your pupils dilate in the mirror's reflection.

"That's what I thought," Curtis says, satisfaction clear in his tone. "You've been thinking about this, haven't you? Since the moment you walked in.”

You can feel the heat radiating from his body, smell the faint scent of ink and something uniquely him. Your heart races, a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through you.

"Tell me, sugar," Curtis murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. "Did you come back here hoping to see Ari? Or were you hoping it would be me?"

You swallow hard, your mind spinning. "I… I don't know," you manage to whisper.

Curtis chuckles, the sound low and dark. "I think you do know. I think you've been thinking about this for months." His hands slide up and down your sides, careful to avoid the fresh tattoo. "Thinking about what it would be like if you came back. If you let yourself give in."

Your breath hitches. “No.”

“No?” he challenges. His right hand, still gloved, audaciously slips past your waistband and down the front of your panties to cup your pussy. He laughs softly, discovering a growing wetness there. “Yes.”

You gasp as Curtis's hand begins to stroke your most intimate area, your body betraying you with its response. Your mind races, torn between the thrill of his touch and the shock at how quickly things have escalated.

"Wait," you manage to breathe out, your voice shaky. "We shouldn't…"

Curtis pauses, his hand stilling but not withdrawing. "Why not?" he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "Your body is telling me a different story, sugar."

You're acutely aware of how exposed you are, standing there in just your bra with Curtis pressed against your back, his hand between your legs. The mirror reflects your flushed face and wide eyes, Curtis's intense gaze locked on you.

"Someone could walk in," you whisper, a weak protest even to your own ears.

Curtis chuckles darkly. "They could.”

Your mind is spinning, caught between the intense sensations and the voice in your head screaming that this is wrong, that you shouldn't be doing this here, now, with him. But your body betrays you, responding eagerly to his touch.

"Curtis," you manage to whisper, your voice shaky, and tears springing up in your eyes. "We can’t—"

"Shh," he soothes, his free hand coming up to gently grip your throat. Not choking, just holding. "Don't overthink it, sugar. Just feel."

His fingers continue their exploration, finding your clit and circling it slowly. You bite back a moan, plant your hands on the mirror, and your hips rock back against him.

“Fuck, knew you wanted this,” he speaks directly into your ear.

You whimper and shake your head, but then his hand moves up to cover your mouth. “Gotta keep more quiet than that unless you want someone else to join us, sugar.”

Your eyes desperately seek his in the mirror, fear flashing in them, and the tears begin to spill over. There’s a predatory glint in his icy blue gaze.

His fingers continue their skilled ministrations, drawing forth sensations you've never experienced before. Your body betrays you, responding eagerly to his touch despite your mind's protests. You're caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions - fear, excitement, shame, and an overwhelming, undeniable pleasure.

"Look at yourself," Curtis commands softly, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. "See how beautiful you are like this."

You force yourself to look, to really see yourself - flushed cheeks, wide eyes, chest heaving with each ragged breath. Curtis behind you, his large frame dwarfing yours, his hand between your legs, the other still gently but firmly covering your mouth.

Curtis's eyes meet yours in the mirror, his gaze intense and predatory. The fear in your eyes seems to excite him further, his grip on you tightening slightly.

"Don't worry, sugar," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “I knew all those pretty tears were just for show, you want this just as badly as I do, and I've got you."

His words send a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and arousal coursing through you. You're acutely aware of how vulnerable you are, how easily he could overpower you if he wanted to. And yet, there's a part of you that thrills at the danger, at the forbidden nature of what's happening.

Curtis's fingers continue their skilled exploration, drawing involuntary gasps and moans from you that are muffled by his hand. Each deliberate movement sends waves of sensation coursing through your body, igniting a fire that you never expected to feel. Your body continues to betray you, responding to his touch despite your mind's protests, creating a tumultuous conflict within you. The thrill of the moment is undeniable, yet a flicker of apprehension lingers in the background, whispering the dangers of being caught in such an intimate entanglement, making it impossible to pull away.

"Damn, that’s a pretty sight,” a familiar voice jolts you nearly out of your skin, and you whip your head around to see Ari looming in the entry.

Curtis stops only for a moment and looks over his shoulder at the other man. "Didn't anyone teach you it's rude to interrupt?"

Ari shrugs, all nonchalance, and palms the large bulge pressing at the front of his jeans.

Your heart races, caught between exhilaration and apprehension. The sight of Ari standing there, a blend of curiosity, mischief, and lust in his eyes, adds an element of unpredictability that excites and terrifies you.

Curtis grunts, then says, “I’m not stopping, but I’ll share.”

Your jaw would have dropped to the floor in that moment had Curtis’s hand not been holding it in place, securing your response and anchoring you to the present. The idea of a threesome, tantalizing yet fraught with risk, swirls in your mind. How did this escalate so quickly? The thought of being discovered sends a shiver down your spine, but the allure of the forbidden is intoxicating, pulling you deeper into the moment.

You sob, overwhelmed and afraid, but it’s muffled as Curtis turns your body around with him, his grip firm yet reassuring His fingers are still moving, relentless and sure, and you can hardly focus on anything else. Your mind races through the possibilities, the dangerous thrill of being discovered adding an exhilarating layer to the encounter. Would Ari join in, or would he simply stand by and watch, adding to the intensity of the moment? The idea of indulging in such a forbidden experience fills you with a mix of dread and excitement, as if you’re teetering on the edge of a cliff, about to leap into the unknown.

Ari pulls a privacy curtain you had failed to notice across the opening to the booth before taking the few short steps to close the distance between you. This sudden shield from prying eyes heightens the anticipation, transforming the atmosphere into one charged with desire and unspoken possibilities. Ari traces the back of his forefinger down the column of your throat, down your sternum, between your breasts, and then circles around the expanse of your new tattoo, eyes roaming over the beautiful design.

Not to be forgotten, Curtis tweaks your clit, cracking the pleasure that had been mounting like a whip, demanding an orgasm from your body, and you tremble in his arms as you cling to him. Each flick of his fingers sends shivers through you, igniting a fiery response that leaves you gasping for more.

“Knew you were such a good girl,” Ari praises, and your chest surges from his praise, his low, sultry voice invading your mind. Then, he unzips his jeans, the sound echoing in the booth like a promise yet to be fulfilled. He goes to sit on the black leather chair, pushing his pants and boxer briefs down around his ankles, revealing the enticing sight of his big, throbbing cock.

Curtis lifts you with ease and places you in Ari's lap. The transition is seamless, and you find yourself enveloped in the warmth of Ari's embrace. His hands instinctively find their way to your hips, grounding you as you settle in. With Curtis standing close, the dynamic continues to shift and evolve. You can feel the heat radiating from both men, each one eager to exact pleasure, and you hope the fire doesn’t consume you completely.

“Take off your bra,” Ari directs you.

Your eyes widen over his immediate demands, but, nervous as you still are, you don’t hesitate to do as he says. His hands on your hips hold you steady while you reach around to unclasp, and then you let it drop and fall away, biting your lip. Ari groans appreciatively, and grinds your core against his cock. You let out a shuddering breath at the friction, but it’s a singular sensation for only a moment, because then Ari dips his head and takes one of your breasts into his hot, wet mouth, and you gasp. Your fingers tangle immediately into his hair, looking for some kind of anchor.

Vaguely you hear the rustle of fabric from Curtis close behind you, and then you feel the heat of his now naked chest press against your back. He nips lightly at your neck, but then pulls back slightly. He rucks your loose skirt up over your hips, but then he rips the fabric of your panties right off, and you yelp in surprise.

Ari’s quick to muffle your sound by shifting his lips from your breast to your mouth, but his lips and tongue are no less eager, and the kiss is delicious and demanding, and you’re easily almost completely lost in him again. But Curtis has also discarded his gloves, and now his warm, calloused hands move slowly up your thighs before squeezing your hips, then start to knead the flesh of your round ass.

Curtis places a hand between your shoulders and pushes you forward, coaxing you against Ari’s chest. Ari takes the hint and leans back in the reclined chair, pulling you with him. This exposes your most intimate parts to Curtis, and he spreads you open, then presses his tongue flat against your cunt, eliciting a moan that, luckily, is swallowed up by Ari, who’s still eagerly kissing you, and now kneading your breasts in his large hands. Curtis continues to lick and lap at your cunt, but then his tongue begins to move up, and then suddenly he’s tonguing the tight rosebud of your ass, and you whimper and freeze.

Ari stops when you stop, pulling away to look at your face and assess the situation.

Curtis teases you with his tongue for another moment before pausing to pull away as well.

“Not a virgin,” he guesses, “but never had anyone play with your ass, have you, sugar?”

You close your eyes and try to take a steadying breath, your, “no,” soft and barely audible.

“Do you want him to stop?” Ari asks, and you can feel him studying your face.

Your mind is racing, but you remain frozen, unsure of what to say.

Ari brings one hand up to stroke your cheek. You lean into his touch and open your eyes again, but still don’t speak.

“Keep going,” he says to Curtis, and Curtis does.

While Curtis works your tightest hole with his tongue, still splaying your cheeks open, Ari reaches down to slip two fingers into your dripping cunt, and you eagerly rock your hips for more. Ari smiles, then brings you down with his other hand to kiss you again.

When you’re positively humping his hand, Ari pulls back from kissing you again with a darker laugh than you expected, but you’re so far gone between them, you think of stopping or slowing at all now.

“Open your eyes,” he commands.

But it doesn’t register.

He withdraws your fingers and slaps your pussy, making you gasp and groan, and your eyes whip open.

His dark blue irises are barely visible, pupils blown wide with lust, and it just cause another surge of electricity to run through you to your core.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?”

And then it’s his cock nudging at your entrance.

“Ari,” you groan.

“Since that first fucking minute I saw you in the lobby,” he says. He taps his cock aggressively against your swollen clit, and you keen for him. “Knew you were an innocent little thing, and I wanted to absolutely ruin you.”

You bite your lip, unable to look away from him, and think of that day, too.

“We both wanted to ruin you,” Curtis adds. And his finger takes over where his tongue had been, working gently but insistently into your ass.

You moan softly, but the two men hear it and exchange a glance over your shoulder. Ari looks pleased.

“I didn’t touch you that day, only teased you, enticed you. I knew you’d be back,” he growls. “Shame I didn’t have you on my chair again, but that wasn’t going to stop me.”

He pushes your lips back to his for another devouring kiss, but it’s brief.

“You’re desperate to be filled up, aren’t you?” he asks.

Closing your eyes again, you whimper and drop your forehead to his, but your answer is undeniable. “Yes.”

“You didn’t have to wait this long, but we won’t punish you for that. We’re patient men.”

“It only gave us more time to think of all the ways we’ll take you apart, sugar,” Curtis murmurs against your shoulder, then presses open-mouthed kisses against your hot skin there.

And then Ari is slipping his cock inside of your cunt, slow, insistent, and doesn’t stop until he’s into the hilt, pushing all the air out of your lungs. He’s so big it feels like he’s everywhere, and it takes you concentrating on making your lungs work again to suck in deep breaths, impossibly full of him.

But as full as you feel, it wasn’t everything. Because while Ari was slipping his cock inside you, Curtis had removed his fingers, and now his thick cock was splitting you open and finding room in a hole that had never been filled before, and it was unfamiliar pain, but already pressing into impossible pleasure, and really, you had to press your palms to the leather on either side of Ari’s head and focus on breathing and only breathing if you were going to survive this.

And then they both began to move.

In and out and in and out and inandout.

And you were sure you were going to black out or bliss out from how full you were and all the sensations surging through your body and –

read the next part: TAKING YOU HOME

I make no apologies for this. Send me your medical bills as needed.

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[stevieschrodinger]

Part One TwentySix

Eddie climbs into the beemer, looking as hang dog as Steve has ever seen him, “what’s wrong?”

Eddie fiddles with his sweater cuffs, plucking at them with his finger nails, frowning, “we...speak English?”

“Yeah, that’s right. That’s what the language is called, English.”

“And...many more? Languages? Lots and lots, right?”

“Yeah baby, that’s right, what’s wrong?” Steve grows increasingly more alarmed, Eddie actually looks like he might cry.

“I have to learn more? Learn all?”

“Oh! Oh no, not if you don’t want to. You could learn another one one day, but only if you want to.”

“Sure? Do you promise?”

“Yeah. Yes, baby, I promise. Just this one.”

Eddie sags in his seat, whole body crumpling with relief. Steve can’t help but laugh, but he does give Eddie’s hand a comforting squeeze.

Eddie gets into the beemer holding one massive fucking sunflower. Like, the head of the thing is just. Huge.

“Too big. Too different,” Eddie elaborates, “can’t sell it.”

“Well, that’s okay, it’ll fit in perfect on the coffee table,” Eddie nods affably at Steve’s suggestion.

“Stevie?” Steve hums to show he’s listening, checking his mirrors as he pulls out of the car parking space. “Should we go to church?”

“Church?”

“Mrs. Vanderbilt,” Eddie sounds the name carefully, “say she’s worried about my immortal soul.”

“Does she now. And who is Mrs. Vanderbilt?”

“She makes flower arrangements for church. Stevie? What’s an immortal soul?”

Steve snorts a laugh, “well. Uhm. So there’s...some people believe that there’s God, and heaven and hell and stuff like that. And there’s loads of religions, like with languages, lots of places have different ones and...God is kind of like...do you remember El explaining about Santa at Christmas?”

“Yes. He has a beard and reindeer and choose if you’re good, then gifts. Not real though, fun for kids believe.”

“Yeah. Yeah God is like that, but for grown-ups. And instead of gifts you get into heaven when you die.” Steve sees Eddie’s face crinkle up in his peripheral vision, “actually, you know what, I bet there’s a book about this, library detour?”

Eddie nods, humming agreeably.

The book on religions they find at the library is probably, now, a little below Eddie’s reading level, but it seemed like the best option at the time. When Eddie looks up from it and asks, “think The Upside Down is hell?” Steve sort of regrets the idea of a book.

“No. No I don’t.”

“Sure?”

“Yeah. Hell's probably more like, fire. And brimstone. And I never once saw a little demon with a pitchfork. Also, and I know this for absolute certain, there’s no way someone as good as you comes from Hell.”

“Oh.”

“I think...it’s up to you want you want to decide baby, you read as much as you like, and you think about it, but I think it’s made up, like a-” Steve hesitates over actually saying 'fairy tale', since he’s talking to a guy who, literally, is like a character from one of those stories, “like something that’s made up," He finishes lamely. "Anyway, forget the book, come up here, I haven’t won the kissing game for a couple of days and I’m feeling lucky.”

Eddie leaves the book, forgotten for a while, and Steve decides the first chance he gets he’s taking that one back.

“Stevie!” Eddie bursts through the door of family video, luckily it’s the middle of the day and the place is dead. He breezes straight past Steve and presents four pink roses to Robin, “from Chrissy,” he tells her, causing a spectacular blush to form on Robins cheeks before she sinks down behind the counter.

Eddie completely ignores her. “Knock knock.”

“Who's there?” Steve asks reflexively.

“Eddie with some flowers,” Eddie says proudly, and then promptly bursts out laughing.

“Uhm...Eddie with some flowers who?”

“What?” Eddie looks confused.

“...what?” Steve asks, feeling as confused as Eddie looks.

Eddie brightens again a second later, “knock knock.”

“Who’s there?” Steve asks again, cautious this time.

“Family Video.”

“Family video...who?”

“Family video not house!” Eddie declares, and then laughs uproariously.

From behind the counter, Robin Whispers, “what is happening?”

“I have...absolutely no idea,” Steve answers, right before Eddie starts again on another nonsensical knock knock joke.

There isn’t much that Eddie does that annoys Steve, to be fair, there’s not really anything. But this. By the time he gets home he’s had enough of Eddie’s one man comedy act. “Joyce,” he hisses down the phone desperately, “you don’t understand how shit they are; they don’t even mean anything.”

She has the audacity to laugh at him, “I remember the boys going through that phase. They both did it when they were...four? Maybe Jon was five.”

“How long does it last???”

“Oh, I don’t know, few months maybe, off and on?”

Steve, very gently, bangs his forehead against the wall.

Eddie’s holding a bunch of something pink and only, maybe, a tiny bit wilted. He’s bright eyed as he gets into the car, “Stevie, Chrissy say at me about a new thing. We can try?”

“Sure, baby, what is it?” Steve has the car in reverse, checking his mirrors as he pulls out of the spot.

“Blowjobs.”

Steve’s really pleased with how well he just...doesn’t react to that. Because, truthfully, he’s thought about it. He has. Really. But...well. Eddie’s teeth are sharp. And it’s not that Steve thinks Eddie would ever, ever hurt him on purpose, but that doesn’t mean Steve doesn’t have some, potentially, unresolved toe loss related trauma. And then there’s Eddie’s dick, and how...wriggly it is. How the end opens up and the...well. Just the whole thing, really.

“Stevie?”

“Why...are you and Chrissy talking about blowjobs?”

Eddie shrugs, “Chrissy not really like them, she ask if I liked them. I say I not try them. She said…” Eddie frowns, thinking, “she said, ‘you never get a blowjob?’ and got...angry sad? At Stevie?”

“Oh, she thought I was getting blowjobs but never giving you blowjobs?” Steve can, vaguely, feel his eye starting to twitch. He also can’t help but be fucking irritated with Chrissy, not only is it not her business, but he also can’t really be annoyed with her because...really if that’s what she was worried about, she is only sticking up for Eddie. He’s so naive, there’s no way Chrissy hasn’t picked up on just how innocent Eddie is, so Steve can't really blame her for thinking that anyone could take advantage of Eddie.

Even if it is fucking annoying.

“Yes, but I tell her no blow jobs at all. But we can try now, right?”

“Right. Right. Yeah. Sure. Uh hu.”

Eddie nods, “when we get home.”

“Right,” Steve says, with far more confidence than he feels.

“Stevie? Why not tell about blowjobs before?”

Steve hums, “just kind of...was saving it for a special occasion?” He tries desperately, he can’t look at Eddie as he speaks, keeping his eyes on the road, “didn’t want to go through all the good stuff too fast, you know?”

“Oh okay.”

Eddie limpets himself to Steve the second they’re over the threshold, demanding kisses, his fingers already exploring around Steve’s jeans button, “hang on hang on, couch or bed?”

“Couch,” Eddie answers easily, still kissing Steve as they walk awkwardly though the house. Steve sits, letting Eddie kneel between his legs, fumbling with his zipper.

And, the thing is, Steve really, genuinely believed he could do this. He trusts Eddie, he does. He loves Eddie, really, but he’s not even half hard when Eddie gets him out. And like Eddie...is, he tends to just go for things. Steve catches sight of the teeth and just...can’t. His hands are in Eddie’s way and he’s tucking himself away again before he can really think about it, “could we, maybe, leave this until...later?”

Eddie pouts, “want to try.”

“I just, I don’t want to do this right now, okay?” And the guilt Steve feels is a live thing. He remembers so clearly when he’d been frightened of Eddie’s dick, and how upset Eddie had been. That same fear raises it’s ugly head.

“But why? Chrissy tell me boys really like it-”

“I mean, I do. Kind of. But I just think we could...not do this.”

“But Chrissy say-”

“Jesus Christ Eddie.” Steve snaps, getting angry now. He’s not going to be prodded into doing something he just doesn’t want to do. Especially not by Chrissy Cunningham. “Since you’ve been working with her it’s been Chrissy this and Chrissy that, can’t you just, leave it? For once?” Steve gets up, needing to be away from this conversation.

“But why?”

“Because I just don’t want to, okay? Why don’t you go and ask Chrissy since she knows everything,” Steve snaps again, he knows he’s snapping, and it’s just making him angrier at himself for reacting this way, but he can’t seem to stop himself, defensiveness fueled by the guilt eating at him.

“Maybe,” Eddie says, hands on hips, frowning from the doorway.

“Go then. Go ask her what I should do about it.”

Eddie’s frown is nuclear now as he faces Steve across the kitchen, he tries to speak, half formed words at first, Eddie clearly struggling as he gets upset, “you think? You think?? You promise forever! Stee scared of Eddidie more! Eddidie different! Stee tell away!”

“You are though, you are different!” Steve knows he's wrong the second he says it. He knows Eddie well enough that saying that in anger is a cheap shot, and unforgivable low blow.

Eddie’s mouth pops open, shocked and affronted. He goes to speak but just...doesn’t. He turns and leaves...Steve hears the front door go.

“For fucks sake,” he sighs to himself, angry and upset with himself, the fight goes out of him as he’s swamped by guilt. Steve makes himself move to follow Eddie out. He opens the door just in time to watch Eddie pull the beemer out of the driveway, “oh fuck.”

“There’s pretty much only one place he would go, I think.” Steve tells Hopper, “so I’m pretty sure he will be there.”

Hopper hums from the drivers seat, “and what exactly did you two fight about?”

“I...well. I think this is one of those times where you don’t ask unless you’re really sure you want to know.”

“I don’t want to know.”

“Yeah, there it is,” Steve breathes a massive sigh of relief, the beemer is parked near the florist. Tight to the curb too, a good parking job, and there’s not a single mark on her. The florists however, is shut for the day.

Steve bangs on the door, peering through the glass. It’s dark inside, but there’s some light shining through that little door in the back. Steve knocks on the glass again, and eventually Chrissy appears. She unlocks the door, immediately telling Steve, “he doesn’t want to see you.”

“Kid, can I go?” Hopper calls from where he’s half tucked the truck out of the way.

“Yeah,” Steve waves him off, turning back to Chrissy, “I need to apologize to him. Please.”

She scowls and makes a vague humphing noise at him, “fine,” Steve slips awkwardly through the gap Chrissy allows him, and once in she locks the door behind him. Steve follows her into the shop, “Eddie, I’m putting some stuff in the car out back, you come get me if you need me, okay?”

Steve comes around the doorway to see Eddie nodding sadly, he’s sitting in what must be their tiny break room. There’s two chairs and a beat up Formica top table, a little electric kettle on top of a under counter refrigerator. Eddie’s got a scrunched up wad of tissues in his hand where he’s clearly been crying.

“Hi Eddie,” Eddie fiddles with his tissues and keeps his eyes on his knees, not looking at Steve, so he pulls up the other chair, “I’m really sorry.” Eddie nods, but doesn’t say anything.

“I just,” Steve sighs, rubbing at his face roughly, “I did get scared okay? But I shouldn’t have...I should have just explained, I shouldn’t have shouted.”

Eddie nods, shredding the tissue, “I sorry too.”

“It’s...not you're fault. Not really. I just...Eddie, your teeth are really sharp you know, and my dick is...my dick. I know you’d never hurt me on purpose, okay, I know that but…”

“Chri-” Eddie bites it back, and stops speaking again.

“Yeah. I’m sorry about that too. It’s good you have a friend okay? It’s good she’s...teaching you things I haven’t thought of. It’s…you can talk about Chrissy, it’s fine.”

“Chrissy say...no people should do anything they don’t want to. Especially with sex stuff...so Eddie a bit wrong,” he sniffles, “but she help me dig hole anyway.”

“What hole?”

“For your body. Dead soon, but that...kind of funny joke?”

Eddie says it in a way that means he did not find it funny at all, and Steve snorts a laugh, “yeah. Yeah, she’s a good friend.”

They sit in silence for another minute before Steve offers, “you did a really good job of parking the car...do you want to drive me home?”

“Yeah,” Eddie stands, and so does Steve, and then they both move in for a hug at the same time, Eddie desperately throwing his arms around Steve's shoulders and holding him as tight as he can.

Steve swears to himself he’s going to do better with this stuff, and lets himself nose at Eddie’s ear, his skin tickled by Eddie’s new curls.

Eddie answers the phone, “Harrington residence,” he says carefully.

Steve watches him frown for a second, before he says, “yes, wait please,” and then offers the phone to Steve, “doctors.”

“Oh, right, yeah,” Steve takes the phone, confirming his address and date of birth, before the lady tells him his test results are ready to pick up.

He hangs up, and Eddie’s there, offering him a pen, “that your birthday?”

“I- yeah. Yeah it was.”

Eddie nods, “should be on calendar before, Stevie,” Eddie admonishes gently.

“Okay, I’ll do it now, and then we can go get my results, okay?”

Eddie nods, “no more condoms,” he says solemnly.

Steve snorts a startled laugh.

There’s a frantic banging on the front door, then the bell rings. The bell rings again before Steve can even clamber up off the couch. It’s Eddie and Chrissy, and they hustle into the house before Steve even has the door all the way open.

Steve’s already alarmed, he isn’t due to pick Eddie up for another hour at least, and Chrissy wouldn’t just close the store unless it was an emergency.

“What happened?”

“There was a man,” Chrissy explains a little breathless, “Eddie hid behind the counter the second he saw him, and I’m sure he didn’t see Eddie, I’m sure. But he was asking questions. If a young man worked at the store, weird things about Starcourt. I just kept telling him no Steve but- he’s definitely looking for Eddie.”

Steve feels a mounting sense of dread as she speaks, “Eddie, did you know him?”

Eddie nods, looking frightened, “Starcourt. When I was in tank.”

“Tank?” Chrissy pulls a face, “what tank?”

“Uhm,” Steve suddenly realizes that Chrissy maybe shouldn’t be here for this part, Steve definitely needs to call Hopper, “Chrissy, thank you, but maybe you should go-”

“Absolutely not. Not if Eddie’s in trouble-”

“Okay, but the thing is-”

“Steve.” Chrissy huffs, “I know, okay?”

“You know...what?”

“I don’t know!” She flails a little, “I don’t know what I don’t know! But I do know that Eddie had never heard of the moon landing! He didn’t know that the guy on the five dollars is Abraham Lincoln! He didn’t know that other languages exist and he certainly can’t speak anything other than English even though, according to you,” she pokes Steve in the chest, “he should be able to speak Finnish! And he can’t!”

She’s getting worked up now, and Steve finds himself taking a step back, his hands up in defeat. For a tiny cheerleader, Chrissy’s kind of scary.

“He can find one bug in a delivery of a hundred stems Steve! And do you know how, he told me he can hear them! Hear them! I’ve watched him trim anything from daises to roses to full on sunflowers with his thumbnails Steve! He can cut baler twine with them. And don’t get me started on the florist wire, do you know what he does with that? He just straight up fucking bites through it!” Chrissy gets louder and pinker the longer she rants.

“He came to work with a mashed potato sandwich, like that's normal!! His tears are fucking brown! Brown! Those fingernails, that’s not polish, they’ve never been chipped, not once, they just grow that way, right? And I might be a blonde cheerleader but I am not stupid. So no. Okay, no. I don’t know what Eddie is. But I do know he’s my godamn best friend and if he’s in trouble, I want to help, okay?”

She’s all bright eyed and kind of breathless, and just a little terrifying. Eddie’s got his hands up in front of himself, nervously pulling at the threads of his cuffs, eyes big and worried as they slide back and forth between Steve and Chrissy.

Steve sighs, “okay. Okay. We can explain, but I just...I need to make a call first.”

Part TwentyEight

[navybrat817]

I picture Bucky as a good dad. Like you're tired and he takes over without hesitation.

Oh, he's an amazing dad, nonnie. I agree he would take over immediately.

Sleepless Nights

Pairing: Woodworker!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky offers to check on Jellybean so you can get some rest. Word Count: Over 1k Warnings: Fluff, insecurities, early parenthood, reflecting, nickname (daughter is called Jellybean, reader is called Jewel), feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes as a dad (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Sorry it isn't much, but here's a little something with our woodworker. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone​, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky was already awake when he heard fussing in the next room, every cell in his body on alert at the sound. He was a light sleeper to begin with and always had an ear open, but having a baby in the house gave him all the more reason to pay attention to every noise around him. You began to sit up with half open eyes and a groan when the fussing turned to cries, your instincts likely calling to you through your exhaustion to soothe your baby. You were a wonderful mother through and through.

But you had only fallen asleep a few minutes ago after feeding and changing her and you needed as much rest as possible.

“No, no, no,” he whispered as he brushed his lips against your temple and helped you lay back down. “It’s my turn.”

“You sure?” You asked, trying to stifle a yawn. “I don’t mind.”

“I’m sure,” he assured you, giving you another kiss. “I offered, remember?”

It wasn’t easy for you to relinquish control or ask for help out of fear that you weren’t a good enough mom, but he was quick to squash that insecurity. He didn’t want you to feel any sort of guilt or shame over needing rest. You also didn’t have to go it alone since you had him by your side.

You were equal partners and parents.

“Thanks, Hunk,” you smiled tiredly.

He smiled back and tucked the blanket around you. “You don’t need to thank me for being a dad,” he teased before you closed your eyes. “Just get some rest for the both of us, Jewel.”

Once he was sure you wouldn’t try to get up, he went to check on your daughter. His daughter. One of the two lights of his life.

Living proof that his heart had room for two.

Carefully opening the nursery door, his heart almost stopped as the cries increased. The sound evoked many things within him, like the need to protect her and the worry that he wouldn’t be able to comfort her the way you could. Pushing his anxiety aside, he approached the crib with a soft smile when she whimpered and immediately reached in to pick her up. The vibranium arm cradled her lower half as he rested her against his chest.

The previous metal forced upon was meant to inflict pain, but the vibranium provided hope.

“Hey, Jellybean,” he whispered, brushing his nose against the top of her head and taking care not to scratch her skin with his beard as her whimpers stopped almost immediately. The sweet scent was so distinctly her, a biological perfume that he could pick up even if she was surrounded by other babies. “Can’t sleep, huh?”

Bucky had heard from others that babies had distinct cries, but he didn’t realize how true that was until he began to decipher Jellybean’s sounds. Since she couldn’t tell either of you with words what or how she was feeling, she did so with sounds and visual cues. There was no yawning, so she wasn’t sleepy, and no lip smacking, so he ruled out hunger. She didn’t squirm in his hold, so discomfort or a dirty diaper were out. Coupled with the fact that she grew quiet the second he picked her up told him all he needed to know.

His baby just wanted some attention.

“I’m sorry if you wanted Mama, but she needs her rest,” he whispered, taking a seat in the rocking chair he built. He covered you with a soft blanket next, a gift from Steve and Tippy. Ironically enough, you got them a similar blanket for their little Peanut. “So do you.”

He began to hum a lullaby as he glanced around the room. Jellybean’s laughter would fill it one day and provide another memory he’d make sure not to forget. Even in the dark, he could feel the care crafted within every inch of the space. Beams and walls helped make the house, but it was a home because of the love you poured into it.

It didn’t always feel real though.

Some days, he feared he’d open his eyes only to find himself back in the chair, shaking from the pain and electroshock. Or that he’d be back on ice, reaching out a hand for the two of you before he froze. He had to remind himself that the worst part of his life was over, that the nightmare was finished and you were his dream come true.

The person who helped him pick up the pieces of himself, one at a time.

“You know, I spent a long time believing that I wasn’t a good man. That I’d never be worthy of you or your mom. That I didn’t deserve this,” he told her, a shuddering breath leaving his lungs as he exhaled. “But I am a good man and I do deserve my family.”

And all he wanted was to be a good husband and father.

His daughter’s tiny hand moved to his chest and he had to blink back tears at the small source of comfort. She was vulnerable, inspiring, a precious gift, and a token of the love you had for him. Looking at her for the first time and seeing purity and wonder in her gaze was like rekindling his best sense of self.

He may not always be able to catch her when she falls, but he would pick her up, dust her off, and let her try again.

“Maybe I needed to hold you tonight as much as you needed to be held,” he smiled softly. It wouldn’t have surprised him if she sensed it. “You’ll hear my story one day. No matter what you think of me after I tell you, I’ll always be your father and protector,” he promised as she started to doze off, completely at ease in his arms. He shut his eyes and allowed himself to relax, too. “And I’ll always love you and your mom, Jellybean.”

And in the room next door, you gazed at the baby monitor with watery eyes. “We’ll always love you, too, Bucky.”

I'm so soft! Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[cherryblossom-heart]

Could you love me one last time? (B.B ModernAU!)

Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Masterlist

Summary: It was inevitable, everyone else around you could see it. You and Bucky Barnes were meant to fall for each other. Unfortunately you were also meant to break each others hearts. You left, he stayed and you thought that was it, until a wedding made you come back to face the past you left behind.

13.1 k words

Content warning: ANGST, toxic 'situationship' between Reader and Bucky, heartbreak, alcohol comsumption, +18 SMUT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT Bucky and Reader sleeping with other people while they have their situationship going on.

A/N: It's been a long time since I posted. Ik I teased this a long time ago but life got in the way and I forgot about it but now I'm back with this so I hope you guys like it. You're welcomed to send me an ask with any comments, questions, etc., you have on this 😊

Post dividers by @firefly-graphics

Peggy’s dress was surprisingly beautiful. The first time you had seen it in pictures, the dress up in a hanger, you had thought of it a bit ugly to your liking. The long, slight puffy sleeves, the plain A skirt, and the square neckline made for an overall boring piece of fabric, and when she had asked you over FaceTime what your thoughts were, you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. But now, as she walked with a smile on her face to her soon-to-be husband, you were happy you kept your mouth shut. It wasn’t the dress or the makeup or the hairstyle that made her stunning, it was the love and care in her eyes. It was the happiness in her face whenever she looked at Steve.

Just as she reached the end of the aisle, taking her place next to you and the rest of the bridesmaids, a pair of familiar blue icy eyes caught your attention. Bucky looked good, you could admit to yourself, even after not seeing him for the past almost six years, it seemed that time had just made him even more attractive. He no longer was the youthful, long haired and clean shaved guy that had once dared you to see who could fit more grapes in your mouth, accidentally spitting one to your face as he tried not to choke with them. The traces of his fuckboyish persona were long gone too, instead replaced by a seriousness you had only seen on certain occasions. This Bucky was no longer a boy that enjoyed playing with feelings and breaking hearts; this was a man. A man that looked slightly older had light wrinkles and shorter hair that came with a slight beard. This was a Bucky changed, mature.

This Bucky wasn’t the one you had left behind when you moved away.

His eyes stayed on you during the whole ceremony, and you couldn’t help but stare back at him.  For years you had wondered what you would do if you ever saw him again, you wondered if things would be awkward, or perhaps he would act as if nothing had happened, as if both of you hadn’t ended up with a broken heart that night. A part of you thought it would still hurt as it did almost six years ago, maybe the anger would still be there and it would end up with both of you avoiding each other as much as you could. You saw a hundred scenarios running through your head all through your seven hour flight, but you never considered this one.

You never expected he would be so direct, or to look at you with such intensity. You were sure that after all this time he would have already forgotten about you, leaving your memory buried in the back of his mind as he easily replaced you with some other girl. Yet the way his eyes screamed for your attention made you think otherwise, a deep-rooted desperation washed over them, and you understood what he said.

“I’ve missed you.”

You weren’t the only one to notice it. Once the party started and the bride and groom were going around tables greeting everyone, Natasha, Wanda, and Pepper dragged you to the venue's private dressing room to drill you with every question they could think of. You were thankful Peggy was too busy with her new husband, or else the interrogatory would’ve been ten times more exhausting.

“What the hell is going on?”

“Have you guys talked?”

“Are you going to talk to him?”

“Why is he looking at you like that?”

“Do you still love him?”

And that was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it? Did your heart still belong to James Buchannan Barnes? Was your heart still yearning for the tumultuous yet passionate and ultimately toxic relationship that had ensued between both of you?

The answer to all of that was yes and no. You didn’t miss the person you had become at the end of your "relationship," if you could even call it that; you didn’t miss the fights, the crying, and the resentment. You didn’t miss the uncertainty that came with being with young Bucky Barnes or the hole in your chest that you felt whenever he would leave.

However, you did miss his company. Not the bullshit, flirtatious, overly confident, and emotionally distant persona he would often put out. No, that dickhead was one of the reasons you never worked out. Instead, you missed the Bucky that would buy you a coffee every morning, the one that would make you laugh until your stomach hurt, the one that would invite you over to have a movie night and buy your favorite snacks.

You missed Bucky, who used to be your friend.

Natasha, the ever-observant of your group of friends, had warned you before it started. She had seen the way you eyed each other at a party one drunken night, both your eyes burning with desire as a product of the growing sexual tension you have had ever since you met for the first time.

As it turned out, Natasha was not only beautiful but also intuitive.

“Nat, please—” you drunkenly argued. Your red cup filled with liquor spilled as you tried to walk away from the redhead, but her hand stopped you.

“Listen to me. I know you want to fuck him, but you have to promise me you won’t do it.” The seriousness behind her voice didn’t register in your intoxicated brain, though, and you kept rolling your eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You half slurred, half laughed.

“I see the way you look at him; I also see the way he looks at you. Maybe one day you guys could be a good couple, great even, but right now the only thing that could come out of you two hooking up is one of you getting hurt, if not both.” Her hands grabbed your face, and green eyes met yours. “You will break each other's hearts. You already love each other; we can all see it, but neither of you is ready to be in a relationship or to compromise yet. So please, for the love of God, do not sleep with him.”

Natasha’s words were wise, and with time, they turned out to be true. The next morning you had woken up in bed alone; the only memory of him was the smell of cheap beer, sweat, and the cologne he always wore.

That was the first time Bucky had broken your heart.

Truth be told, as much as you had blamed Bucky for the downfall of your situationship, you were as equally guilty as he had been. The loneliness, the anger, and the resentment you felt throughout the relationship were probably reciprocated because, as Nat had said, you weren’t ready to be together.

Both of you loved each other deeply, but you didn’t know how to do it. Not in a healthy way.

So you tore yourselves apart, sleeping with one another but never brave enough to define things. You acted as if you were a couple, but neither of you would admit your feelings, not even to each other. It was a cycle of stability and sex that always crashed down with one of you being scared, perhaps both of you at the same time, of giving your heart away.

“Hey”

Your heart drummed against your chest, and a warmth spread over your cheeks. You had missed his voice, the sweet baritone of his voice had always made your body react like that. And now, after years of not hearing it, you finally realized how much you had craved for it.

He carried two flutes filled with champagne and passed one to you, which you gladly took.

“Thanks.” you said with a smile.

Both of you took a sip from your drinks, unsure of how to start the so needed conversation. Fortunately, Bucky decided to take the first step.

“They seem happy, huh?”

You chuckled mentally at his opening line, but you admitted to yourself you couldn’t do better.

“Yeah.” You took a second sip of your drink. “The happiest I’ve ever seen them.”

“You must be proud.” he pointed out. You looked at him, confused at what he meant. “Of your matchmaking skills. This wouldn’t have happened without you convincing Peggy to let Steve show her around the city when she first moved here.”

Ah, of course. A sweet smile placed on your lips as you remembered Steve’s adoration showing on his face the first time he saw Peggy after coming to visit you. She, on the other hand, thought nothing more of him than just a pretty guy, but you could see that behind the tough façade she always displayed towards men that tried to flirt with her, she was interested in him, his character, and the kindness he always displayed.

So naturally, you intervened. And you got the perfect opportunity when Peggy got offered a job in New York.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You smirked at him.

“Sure,” he chuckled.

A heartbeat passed, and blue eyes connected with yours once again. The more you looked at them, the more you could feel all the things he wanted to say—a storm of words locked behind them and almost ready to spill. But above all, you could see a bit of sadness, and he found himself finding the same in yours.

His hand twitched in instinct, wanting to caress your face to comfort you, as he had done for so many years, but he caught himself before doing it. It was too late though; you caught it the moment you saw his eyes tense up.

“Do you—” his words died on his mouth, the rushed beating of his heart stopping them. He cleared his throat, trying to push out more confidence than he actually felt. “Wanna go take a walk?”

You didn’t answer immediately. You couldn’t. Every rational part of you was screaming at you, scolding you for even thinking of going with him. You couldn't do it, you couldn’t fall for the same cycle you had run away from in the first place. You weren’t the same person as you were before, you matured, and you learned from your mistakes. Going out with the man that always seem to bring your deepest, darkest, and most unwanted feelings was something you couldn't do.

You couldn't.

You shouldn’t.

You shouldn’t.

“Yeah. That sounds nice.”

You were convinced that whoever planned Steve and Peggy’s wedding was into sorcery, or at the very least a clairvoyant. When Peggy and Steve chose this place along with a terrace to host the ceremony, everyone had been skeptical of it, as having a wedding outside in the middle of April wasn’t a good choice. As the day of the ceremony closed in, the rainy days did too, and five days before it wouldn’t stop raining all day. Steve and Peggy had expressed their concerns to the wedding planner, but they only got a confident response that nothing would ruin their day. And the wedding planner had been right, not a single drop fell that day in the middle of April; instead, a cool, warm day had welcomed the newlyweds.

As you walked the chilly but comfortable night streets of New York, you thanked the wedding planner and their perfect timing. Even walking in silence along him brought your heart back to the many times you had done the same thing back then, back when you were just two college students without any idea what the future held for you.

“So... how you’ve been?” He asked, unsure of what else to say.

“I’ve been alright. Work has really taken over my life.”

He chuckled. “You? A workaholic?”

It wasn't that you had been irresponsible or a mess back in college, but you had always been more of an adventurer, and you had always pointed out your desire to never lose your freedom.

He had been the same.

“Look who’s talking, Mr. ‘I have my own firm’,” you teased.

Steve had told you a couple of years ago about their idea of opening his own firm, alongside Bucky and Sam. You remember your heart stopping at the mention of his name, but you didn’t tell Steve to not mention him; instead, you asked more about it. It was the first time in years you got any updates on his life, and you allowed yourself to dwell in it. That call stayed on your mind for weeks.

“Shut up,” he smirked.

That was all he needed to open up about what had happened to him. He told you about his old firm and how he hated to work there. How he wanted to have a place where working pro bono wasn’t such an impossible thing to do, he wanted to do more than just defend white collar rich people that seemed to think the law was always above them. He told you how scared he was of leaving somewhere where he had stability but was ultimately convinced by Steve to make a big move, follow what he wanted to do.

In return, you told him about how scared you had been of building a new life in a different country and how you thought your job would suffer from it, as you had thought that as a journalist with a lack of connections and knowledge of the place would put you in a thought position. You told him how you had met Peggy when you were interviewing a couple of government officers for alleged corruption practices, and out of everyone there, Peggy seemed to be the only one that had taken any concern in it. You told him about the job offer you had gotten for a company right in New York that you weren’t taken so seriously but you still wanted to see what it was.

The more you heard him speak, the more happiness grew inside you. Sometimes you wondered whether you had made the right choice or not when you left him behind, but hearing everything he had accomplished, both of you, you were confident you had done what was right for you both.

You turned to him, both of you stopping in your tracks, your hand moved before you could stop it and found it’s place in his, and he reacted on pure instinct, his fingers intertwining with yours.

Bucky’s touch had always brought you warmth on cold days. Ever since the first time you shook hands, there had been an invisible force that made you crave his touch, your hands prickling wherever he had touch. With Bucky, you had always felt safe, even when he was breaking your heart.

You searched in his eyes for any signs of uncomfortableness or rejection at your touch, your heart aching in your chest at the thought of it, but there was only surprise and vulnerability in them. The corner of his eyes lowered as his eyebrows furrowed and his thumb swept over your skin, sending sparkles all over your body.

He had missed this, more than he would ever admit.

“I’m proud of you, Jamie.” His face lit up, a happy smile spreading over his face. “I always knew you would do great things.”

Bucky’s hand leaves yours, a sudden ache installing in your chest, but it didn’t stay there long as he engulfed you in a tight hug, one of his arms surrounding your waist and the other one going behind your neck.

Your head found its place in the crook of his neck, and his hand held the back of your head. His eyes closed as he smelled your lavender shampoo.

“I’m so proud of you too, my beautiful angel,” he whispered next to your ear, making your eyes prickle with the treat of tears spilling from them. “Peggy told me how hard you’ve worked for your position. You have the job of your dreams, you deserve every promotion you’ve gotten, every award, and every adventure you’ve had. I’m proud of the life you have built for yourself.”

The hug became tighter as you both relished in each other's touch and smell, a memory of the past that still ached but also brought you the sweetest of comfort.

Even after all that had happened, the love and care, no matter how tainted it had ended up as, still remained there. Deep down, in the bittersweet memories of how good things had been and the old promises that were never kept, the feelings were still there.

After a few minutes, the embrace was cut short, both of you now slightly embarrassed for the sudden display of affection. The heat in your cheeks made you cringe inwards, and you forced yourself to look away. You shouldn’t have done that. You shouldn't have enjoyed it as much as you did. You promised yourself you wouldn’t do this, you wouldn't feel so deeply for him.

As it turned out, stopping loving Bucky Barnes wasn’t as easy as you had thought.

His hand wrapped yours, taking you by surprise. A charming smile showed his white teeth, and the little wrinkles around his eyes made your heart melt. You smiled back at him, the butterflies in your stomach growing stronger and stronger; perhaps they never left.

“Remember that old bar with the arcade inside?” he asked out of nowhere.

“The one where we found after the whole John Walker thing?” He nodded. “Yeah, what about it?”

“Let’s go grab a drink there.”

Electricity ran through your veins at his words, and you felt like you were a freshman in college again.

“Aren’t we a little too overdressed to go to a bar?” You question. Bucky’s navy blue suit that was paired with an expensive-looking pair of black shoes and your lilac flowy long dress were definitely too much for a dinky little bar.

Bucky’s eyes shone with a youthful spark you had seen so long ago as he squeezed your hand.

“Who cares?”

When you got accepted into your first college choice, you thought you might have been dreaming. The chances you got accepted were the lowest of every place that you had applied to, but by some miracle you got it. You had dreamed of what college life would be—the classes you would take, the new and interesting people you would meet, and even the parties you would attend. You had prepared yourself for a life full of work and perhaps adventure.

But not even a lifetime of daydreaming could’ve prepared you for Bucky Barnes.

Life is filled with an ocean of coincidences, but the ones that always lingered in your mind were the ones that brought you to him. If Natasha’s phone had not died the night before, she would’ve woken up in time to get to class, and she would’ve taken her preferred spot in the middle of the class. If she had woken up in time, she wouldn’t have ended up sitting in the only available seat, which coincidentally was next to you.

If Natasha had woken up earlier, you would’ve never ended up talking to her and subsequently going to go grab something to eat; she would’ve never introduced you to her roommate Wanda or her longtime friend Steve. Also, she would’ve never invited you to hang out with the rest of her friend group in the exact same bar that you would adopt for a weekly Friday reunion for the rest of college.

And perhaps you would’ve never had met Bucky Barnes, or you would’ve ended up being one of many nightstands. Or maybe life would’ve ended up bringing you to him no matter what, because after meeting him you started to believe in soulmates. Not in the typical type of soulmates that, with just one glance, you weren’t that naive, but you did believe in the type of soulmates that would understand you unlike anyone else. There had always been an emptiness in your heart that you never noticed, not until he held you for the first time after a bad day.

Bucky was your soulmate because things had never been complicated with him, not even the first time you met each other. Talking to him, opening up, and letting him see the ugliest parts of yourself was almost second nature to you. You were convinced that the only person who could see the world the same as you was him. He saw the good and the bad in you because, in the end, the same parts in you that were broken were already broken in himself.

Maybe this was why you didn’t work out.

At the time you didn’t care, the only thing you cared about was the fact that being with Bucky made you feel good. That’s why it wasn’t so hard to convince you to go with him to do things that weren’t necessarily smart, wise... or legal. Things like breaking into a party that was hosted by Bucky’s college nemesis and spray painting in his room the words “You are nothing without Daddy’s money.” Bucky had always been talented at hitting where it hurt, especially when it came to someone who had jeopardized his scholarship.

John Walker had been furious later that night when he had brought a girl upstairs only to fund the stench of the spray pain nauseatingly filling his room. The black letters still dripped from the freshness of it, and Walker had gone in what could only be described as a temper tantrum at the age of twenty, at least that’s what everyone had said next Monday when you went back to class.

That night you had decided to celebrate, roaming the streets of New York in search of a bar that would take your fake ID’s and wouldn’t think twice about it but could also drink in peace without having to fight for a beer. Unfortunately, everywhere seemed to be either packed or the bartender would intensely check everyone's ID, driving you away from there. You had already paid a good amount for them, you didn’t want to risk losing it.

Almost close to giving up and just going back to Bucky’s apartment, a neon light caught your attention. Big, bright cyan letters read “Blue Circuit,"  a lonely bar in the middle of town that not a lot of people seemed to go to. A bar that would become a place just for you and Bucky, away from everyone else, from people’s expectations, and above all, away from the real world. As long as you were there with him, nothing mattered, and no one else could break apart what this place meant.

But if things had gone the way they were supposed to, then you wouldn’t have left, and even after all these years, this place would still be yours, and his eyes wouldn’t have looked at you with such hatred when he had caught you in the bathroom with a random guy you met at a party.

“C’mon!” Bucky yelled once your character had gotten the last winning hit on his. The animation of the pixelated woman with steel fans using them to cut his character's head officially proclaimed your victory.

With a cocky smile, you took a step back, winking at him as you took a sip of your drink, and the taste of rum filled your taste buds. “I don’t know why you’re so surprised, I’ve always been better at this than you.”

His body came close to you, close enough to smell the beers he had been taking, and with a seamless swing he took your glass away from your lips and brought it to his, his body ever so slightly trapping you against a table.

“That’s because you always cheat.” He said, with a playfulness in his eyes that made your heart pound against your chest. “You do your little cheat codes that I’ve never learned.”

“You mean learning the combos and using them?” You questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“Sure, if that’s what you call them.”

You took back your drink, placing it on the table behind you, before grabbing his hand and guiding him through the other machines, scanning them with your eyes as you passed the few that still remained there. The classics were still there: Pacman, Space Invaders, MK, Tetris, etc; but those were still games that Bucky still struggled with. You remembered you used to tell him he had an old soul, and that’s why he always struggled to play any videogames, no matter how old they were.

“So, what do you want to get your ass beaten on now?”

His eyes swept through the room until they finally landed in a new addition to the bar, a brand new air hockey table. He didn’t even have to say a word, once his eyes had reached yours, you knew it.

With a happy smile, you rushed to the table. The way you both laughed reminded you of the way you would run hand in hand to your next class when you were late, the rushing in your veins and the tingling sensation of his touch in your skin being the only thing that mattered once you caught a glance of his face. A silly crush, you had deemed it. As if his smile wouldn’t warm up your inside, as if his presence wasn’t the only one that you could tolerate sometimes. As if he hadn’t managed to become one of the most important people in your life in just six months.

As if he wasn’t your first actual love.

College me was so naive, you thought amused with yourself. What you weren’t expecting was the speckles of bitterness that lingered in your mouth moments after it.

“You wanna make this more interesting?” Bucky broke you from your thoughts.

Right, air hockey.

“I’m listening.” A smooth tone filled every letter you said, making his skin filled with goosebumps.

He dug into his pockets, pulling out the change he had previously gotten from the bartender so you could use it and putting it in the side of the machine. One flat hockey disc fell, and he placed it on his side.

“Let’s make it a challenge.”

“What do you mean?”

James, the man whore seductress he always was, began uncuffing his sleeves off, folding them up until they reached right below his elbow. At first you would’ve thought of it as a way to get himself comfortable for the game, but the way he leaned over the table, his muscles popping discreetly against his shirt and his eyes burning you with something you were familiar with, you knew it was intentional.

“If any of us score a point, we get to ask a question to the other person , whatever it is, and we have to answer it, no bullshit allowed.”

Bucky was tempting you the same way he used to do it. He had something in mind he wanted to ask, and he was fishing for an in. He knew how to sweet-talk to you to give in, he knew how attractive he was, and he had learned what worked on you to the tea. James knew what he was doing just as much as you knew it, and that wasn’t even the worst part.

The worst part was how much you wanted to give in.

“No bullshit, huh?” You asked, downing the rest of your drink before grabbing the mallet in your hand. If James Buchanan Barnes knew something was how to bring excitement to your life. You missed that. “Alright, ready to tell me your deepest, darkest secrets?”

He chuckled at your words, an ever so attractive smirk placing in his lips as he moved medium length hair away from his face. “Overconfidence is going to be your downfall, angel.”

Ah, there it was again. Angel.

He was trying, you could give him that. He really was trying. He knew that nickname always made your heart race faster. Sure, it wasn’t the most original one, people had called you that before, but it the way he said it that made it special.

He always made you feel special.

“It’s not overconfidence, old man. It’s just a fact.”

“Hey, fuck you. I’m only a year older than you.” You gave him a blank stare, knowing fully aware that wasn’t what you meant. “Besides, people say I have an old soul.”

And with that, the game started.

He took you by surprise, the little shit. A hard swipe, and the disk went zigzagging through the table until it got past your guard. The sound of the disk falling back for you to pick it up finally reached your ears before you could even process what was going on.

“That was cheating!” You argued, picking the disc back up.

James shrugged. “What? Now that I score a point, you're going to call it cheating?” He started to shake his head. “Such a sore loser.”

Ok, alright. He wanted to play like that, you could play the same.

“Fine.” You grunted. “Ask away.”

He took his time, a couple of seconds in, and you could see the question forming in his mind. Your heart pumped against your chest so rapidly, anticipation building up at what he was going to say.

“What was the first thing you thought when you saw me again?"

“Uh,” you stammered, You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to ask, but it still took you aback. “That’s your first question?”

James shrugged. “I’m just curious.”

“Well, I thought you looked more mature.”

“You mean old?” He questioned, half offended.

"No,” you chuckled. “Mature in the sense that I can’t see that same childishness I used to see all over your face ever since I met you.” You threw back the disk in the table and shot it with your mallet, the disk zigzagging all over the table. Bucky’s reflexes were good though, he blocked it right as it was about to go through and the next round began. “A part of me expected to see the same smug, cocky smile that followed me all through college but with a couple of wrinkles, maybe even a few gray hairs.” He chuckled. “But it’s not there. Well, it’s still there, but not in the same ‘I’m Bucky Barnes, I’m a total 10 and I know it and I definitely think I’m the hottest shit around’ type of way” You paused for a second, before almost whispering. “I was glad it isn’t there anymore.”

For a moment his eyes left the table and went to see your face. You thought for a second your words might’ve offended him, but the smile plastered all over his face brought relief to you.

“I was that annoying, huh?” he chuckled.

“Just a little bit.” You shrugged.

With an abrupt movement, you stopped the black circle and looked directly at him. Blue eyes looked at you confused until he saw the coy smile on your lips, your eyes looking deeper into him and making his spine shiver.

You gave him “the eyes.”.

“I also thought I almost forgot how good you look when you wear blue.” You told him before sliding the disk right across the table.

Score.

Not only could you play the same game as him, you could play it better.

After all, it was you that made the first move that night.

“Are you sure we can go up there this late?” You questioned as the imposing building in front of you two seemed locked for the night.

Bucky’s hand squeezed yours harder while still guiding you towards it. “Trust me, I’ve spent my fare share of nights here.”

He knocked on the glass doors, as they were already blocked at this time of the night. A man dressed in a security guard outfit came close to the door, a tired smile on his face.

“I’m starting to think you don’t actually own a house, Mr. Barnes.” He joked while searching between his keys.

The security guards comment made him chuckle. “What can I say, Jeff? There’s nothing like the smell of a copy machine to put me to sleep.”

“I can tell.” Jeff let you in, closing the door quickly behind you. “And I see you brought some company this time.”

You smiled at him shyly, extending your hand to introduce you as you told him your name. “It’s nice to meet you, Jeff.”

“Nice to meet you too, maybe you can convince this one to stop sleeping here every once in a while.”

“I’ll try my best.” You smiled at him.

After a few more inoffensive jabs from Jeff, you and Bucky made your way towards the elevator, the doors closing as you waved goodbye to the old, gray-haired man. You chuckled one last time at his jokes, and you laid against the wall. There was something about this building that you couldn’t shake off, the layout seeming all too familiar, scratching the back of your mind, but you weren’t able to see why.

“Have I been here before?” You told him.

He turned around with that playful smile he always had, and your heart skipped a beat. His eyes looked at you, and you could tell his mind went to the past, a memory he seemed to treasure.

“I’m surprised it took you so long to recognize it.”

“I don’t remember it, it just seems familiar.”

A small flash of disappointment crossed his blue eyes, and it made you feel a little guilty, but his little smile stayed the same.

“Maybe once we reach the top you’ll remember.” He told you, his fingers sliding between yours once the door opened.

You walked through the hallways of the office space, a lonely desk welcoming you both with a big plaque behind it that read “Rogers & Barnes” with golden letters. He had told you about his partnership with Steve, but having actually seen it made you realize how real it was.

Bucky deserved it; they both did. Everything they had worked for they had earned it with sweat, blood, and tears, and if there was anyone that had ever deserved success, it was both of them.

You kept walking, turning in some hallways and walking up some flights of stairs, passing conference rooms, what seemed to be a communal eating space, and office floors filled with computers and documents. Your journey came to an end once you reached a door, his name engraved on the dark chocolate wooden door.

Once you were inside, you left your coat on one of the three deep blue couches that occupied the center of the room.

“I’ll be right back.” He said before turning around and leaving you alone.

You took your time admiring the place. His desk, big and magnificent, looked clean and professional—not a single paper out of place. On the sides of the room there were bookshelves, some of them filled with books, others with binders of what you assumed was important documentation. However, what caught your eye was the pictures displaying on them.

There was one of Steve and him, both dressed up, and the golden sign in the entrance behind them. You assumed it was taken when they had opened the office, a big, almost juvenile expression on their faces. The next one was one of him with his old college football team, you saw similar faces popping up, Thor, Sam, Clint, Tony, Pietro, Steve, even young Peter was in it. They were all sweating, but the grins on their faces made you think this was after one of the games they had won.

You expected to see pictures from before, but you never thought you would see your own face in them. Almost all of the group pictures that showed all of you had him next to you, his arm around your shoulders or your waist, his grip pressing you against him. In all of them, you were both happy, except one of them caught your eye. It was a normal group picture on the surface, but this time his eyes weren’t on the camera taking the picture.

His eyes were on you.

“Having fun?” His words broke you out of your thoughts. You turned around, his hands holding two glasses and a bottle of scotch.

“Just looking at your collection of mementos.” You answered, leaving the picture in its rightful place.

You accepted the drink, taking a small sip of it as the bitter taste reached your tongue.

“So, you still don’t recognize it?” he questioned.

You shook your head. “Nope, I got no idea where we are.”

He guided you to the big glass wall to the side of his desk, and you saw it, overwhelmingly beautiful and majestic. The city looked bright, colored vibrating lights filling the scene while skyscrapers rose above everything, its architecture set in a messy yet harmonious display.

“What a view.” Was the only thing you were able to say, your hand reaching to touch the glass.

“Now look over there.” He pointed to your left.

Your eyes squinted, trying to search for whatever it was that he was trying to show you, but the darkness of the night didn’t help at all.

“On that tall building, under the light.”

You scanned the scenery, this time more carefully, until you finally found it. Your heart pounded against your chest, the tears almost filling your eyes instantly. That old brown wall was lit up by a single lamp, but its brightness was enough for you to read the graffiti on it.

If it’s meant to be, it’ll be.

Once sentence, and you were twenty-two again.

Tony’s party had been more fun than you had thought. When he had invited you all to the inauguration of this building, his building, you guessed it would be filled with pompous and uptight rich people. Maybe there would be boring classical music in the background and the menu would be entirely of caviar, Iberic ham, and some weird meat like kangaroo steak or something like that.

You should’ve known better than that.

Tony Stark, the only heir to the Stark fortune, was known for his rebellious ways. If he was throwing a party, it would definitely be wild; it didn’t matter what the setting was. So, in true Tony Starks style, the party ended up being a music and alcohol fest, to his father's dismay. Most of the attendees were his “party friends,"  with the exception of his parents and a few of their friends, and what was supposed to be a dull night ended up almost being a college party.

You and your friends had fun dancing, drinking, and laughing in the best clothes you owned. For you, it had been a green sequin dress you had the fortune to have found in a thrift store, as being a college student didn’t really allow you to spend hundreds of dollars on a dress. Bucky's suit had been an old deep blue one his mother had bought him for when his sister got married.

He looks amazing, you thought to yourself.

She looks breathtaking, he thought to himself.

He had spent the whole night by your side, as this had been one of your “good streaks,” as you called them. Neither of you had started a fight in a while, there hadn’t been any angry calls, tears, or ignoring each other, nor was there any jealousy, petty revenge, or hooking up with strangers. The last three were the worst; those usually happened when shit hit the fan, more often than not, and would leave you with an empty feeling after the storm had cleared.

Fortunately, this night instead had been filled with dancing, kisses, and lingering touches that would make you feel as in the highest of clouds. You loved the way his lips would kiss your neck, or how his fingers would caress your face, one of his hands in the back of your neck. You loved the kisses, how his lips tasted, the smell of his cologne, and the way his hair would fall on top of his eyes. You loved the way he smiled when he looked at you, how when he started to notice you, you were overwhelmed by everyone around and took you to explore the new but somewhat empty hallways.

You loved the way he made you laugh.

You loved the way he always knew how to say the right thing, even when everything else was bad.

You loved the way he made you feel.

You loved that you felt safe.

You loved— You loved—

You loved hi—

“Let’s go, around here.” Bucky pulled you with one hand, the other holding a bottle of champagne.

After a couple of minutes more, you finally found an empty office, all the way back into the room. An impressive big glass wall on the side of the office lets you see the whole city at night. It was beautiful.

Bucky took out his jacket, putting it on the floor so both of you could sit on top of it. After settling down, he opened the bottle, the cork flying behind you. The both of you stayed there for a while, your heads resting against his shoulder while you passed around the bottle.

“Could you imagine having an office like this?”

You chuckled. “Only if I win the lottery. Or marry a rich guy.”

“Too bad I’m broke.” He retorted, taking a sip.

His words took you aback, once again. Bucky had a tendency of saying things like that, and you weren’t sure how they made you feel. Sure, you could clearly see a future with him, but that wasn’t what you had agreed on. After that first night, you had agreed you were better as friends, but the next weekend ended with the two of you sleeping together again, and you decided that perhaps adding some benefits would be the best. Always friends, but never more.

Then why would he always say things like that?

You stood up, coming close to the crystal wall in an attempt to escape the overwhelming thoughts that plagued you once you thought about your "situationship." After a few seconds, he stood up too, placing himself to your right.

“I would like to work in a place half as nice as this.”

“Maybe you can ask Tony to give you family and friends a discount."

Your retort was met with a sarcastic laugh. "Yeah, right, even then I’d have to sell one of my kidneys to be able to afford one month's rent.”

“I’d tell you to sell your liver after, but with how much you drink, it’s probably already damaged goods.”

He laughed. He always looked so beautiful when he laughed.

Why were things so simple yet so simple with him? Why was being friends with him so complicated? You wanted more, you knew that he wanted more, but for some reason neither of you would say it. None of you were brave enough to say it.

Maybe the bad things about your “situationship” would go away once you were together. Maybe if you finally decided to take the first step, whether you felt ready or not, then the things that he did that broke your heart would stop. Maybe you would also stop trying to break his in return.

“I—”

Before you could even get one full word out, he interrupted you.

“What the fuck?”

His eyes were looking at some of the buildings below, an amused expression on his face.

“What?”

“Down there, there’s a guy doing graffiti.” He pointed.

You scanned the buildings over where he pointed, thankful that your eyesight was good enough to be able to spot a person with a red hoodie painting on a big wall that he had just covered with a lot of strokes of blue, purple, and pink, all of them mixing together to form what looked like a galaxy. He had just started to paint something on top of it, so his body was blocking the progress he had made, but you could tell he was writing something.

“What do you think he’s writing?” You asked him, your eyes fixated on the stranger.

“Something that will make us question the meaning of life.” He stated in an all-too-serious tone. “Or maybe he’s just writing his name.”

You chuckled. “Maybe he’s writing something like ‘peace’ or ‘love’, something nice.”

“Or, hear me out, something about being chill or keeping it real.”

After a few minutes of brainstorming options, Bucky pointed out the stranger had finished. After a few seconds of squinting your eyes, you saw the white letters that were still dripping with the freshness of the paint, and it read:

‘If it’s meant to be, it’ll be.’

Your eyes welled up with tears.

You were sure things were meant to be with him, but you weren’t ready to say them out loud. Not when you were so scared. Not when you couldn’t even tell him how you felt. Not when you couldn’t even bring to think those three words that would linger in your brain.

Not when a small part of you hated him when things were bad.

Instead of risking it all, you grabbed the bottle from his hands, taking a sip of it and rasing your pinky finger. “Let’s make a promise.”

His finger held yours.

“About what?”

“That no matter what, we’ll always be friends.”

“I thought that was implied already.” He joked.

“Promise it.”

His grip got tighter.

“I promise. Until death do us apart.”

And with that, he pulled towards himself, his arm around your shoulder as you both looked at the city lights.

“And who knows, maybe once you graduate you’ll get a good job, save some money, and have your own firm here. Or maybe get Tony to be your sugar daddy and gift you the whole building.”

He chortled. “Only if you promise you’ll stop by once in a while to have lunch with me.” He kissed you at the top of your head before continuing. “And to help me break things up with him after he signs the deal.”

“Promise.”

As life would have it, every promise you made each other was broken.

“How?” You questioned him, still taken aback.

“When Steve and I were planning on opening our own place together, we couldn’t find a good place to rent, so Tony offered us a space here.”

“He offered you this office?”

“Well, not this one exactly. I asked him if we could get this one.”

You didn’t utter a word for a couple of minutes, the silence of the office drowning you. A thousand questions ran through your mind as you processed what he said. Only after you were sure you could speak, you let out one word.

“Why?”

Bucky's eyes changed, the creases in the corners of his eyes pulled them down, and his eyes were clouded with a sadness you weren’t sure how to describe.

“You know why.” He whispered, so quietly you almost didn’t hear it.

Heartbreak.

That’s what you saw in his eyes.

A heartbreak that you thought you had left behind so many years ago.

You took a sip of your drink, hoping the burning of the alcohol would take away the knot in your throat.

“Well, that realization came in a little too late, didn’t it?” You remarked. You sounded bitter, it wasn’t intentional, but your mouth seemed to be acting before you could stop it.

“Yeah, I guess it did.” He muttered.

Why did he have to bring this up? Why couldn’t you just keep pretending like you were catching up as if you were just old friends who hadn’t seen each other in a while? Why couldn't you just keep pretending?

You left the glass on his desk and grabbed your coat.

“It’s late; I should probably go back to my hotel. I gotta prepare for my interview.”

“Don’t leave yet, please.” He begged.

He grabbed your hand, his touch breaking your heart once again. You didn’t move away from it though, you weren’t sure you were able to hold yourself together if you broke apart. You didn’t want to break apart. He came closer to you, his hand going to your waist as the other one wiped away the stray tears that scaped your eyes.

Bucky’s eyes looked at your lips before turning his attention to your eyes. He wanted to kiss you, he craved it like a madman in a dessert that hadn’t had water in weeks. He needed to kiss you, but he was still looking for something in you that would stop him. The sound of your coat dropping on the floor and your hand on top of his was the answer he needed.

His lips tasted like scotch and longing. Your arms surrounded his neck in an attempt to bring him closer to you. You could feel his heartbeat against your skin, the desperation of his touch as his hand pushed the back of your head to him. The kiss wasn’t pretty to watch either, but you liked it this way. It was messy and hurried, but you could feel everything he felt.

The side of you you had buried half a decade ago was crawling back to the surface, it’s claws filled with love, passion, admiration, and all the good things that came with Bucky. But it also brought everything that was unfinished, all the fights, the pain, and worst of all, all the resentment that you had never spoken about.

It was all at once.

And it was too much.

“No.” You pushed him away.

You needed to get out. You needed to run away.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I loved you before.” His voice was rushed, he knew his time with you was coming to an end. “I was an idiot, I was scared—“

“I don’t want to hear it.” You bent down to grab your things, but your belongings had come out of the pockets, your purse spilling its contents.

“— and for the past six years the only thing that’s been in my head is that I should’ve told you that day how much I loved you—”

“Stop.” You were trying to pick up everything.

“—and I know I should’ve went after you, I should’ve apologized for everything I did to you—”

“Stop it.”

“—but I was a coward. I’m still a coward because that’s the first thing I should’ve done when I saw you. But I’m here now because—”

“No.”

“— I still love you,—”

“Stop.”

“—I never stopped loving you—”

“Fucking stop!”

Your scream resounded in the office, the echo bouncing off the walls. Your words made him back away, as if you had burned him.

“Just—” your voice cracked, the tears prickling your eyes. “Just stop.”

He took a step forward, his hands hesitantly moving towards you, but you slapped them away.

“Why are you telling me this? Why now?”

For a few seconds, he remained silent as if he didn’t know either.

“Because I lied. That night you left my apartment, I lied when I said that I didn’t want the same thing as you.”

“You alright? You sounded weird over the phone.” Bucky asked as he opened the door.

Your hands were shaking with anticipation, your heart beating against your chest so quickly you thought you were about to have a heart attack.

“Yeah, I’m alright.” You answered as you made your way to the couch, your hands gripping on the side of it in an attempt to calm down.

His steps echoed behind you, the sound of a glass clinging was followed by running water.

“You want anything to drink?” he offered.

“No thanks.”

"Ok, just give me a sec, and I’ll be with you.”

You assumed he was doing the dishes by the amount of noise he was making. Bucky had always been a loud person, this being a clear example. A somewhat annoying  charm of his that right now was calming enough to make your pulse settle, at least enough to let go of the poor couch.

Instead, you just rested your hands on the side, caressing the fabric. Your whole focus on it until you felt a change in the texture. You looked at your hand, almost in between the cushions, and saw something that looked and felt like lace. As you pulled it out, you recognized it was underwear.

It wasn’t your underwear.

Don’t think about it, you said to yourself.

Someone else was here.

Don’t think about it.

Who was it?

Don’t think about it.

Was it Dolores again?

Don’t.

Think.

About.

It.

“So, what do you want to talk about?” He said behind you.

Quickly, you put the underwear back in its place, tucking it. He sat next to you, his back reclined.

The next few minutes were a blur in your mind. Sure, you had prepared a speech that you had gone over and over again until you had seen all possible scenarios and you had prepared for every possible answer he could have. What you didn’t expect was for you to black out while doing it, only remembering a few sentences.

“I know we said that we would leave things be, that we were good as just friends, but from the very beginning I’ve wanted to be with you, not just as friends. You make me happy, you make me feel safe, you make me feel alive.”

“You have become the only one in my heart, I can’t feel like this for anyone else. I don’t want to feel like this for anyone else.”

“Things haven’t been exactly light and breezy as we expected, but I know that we can be better. We can be good. It’s not too late for us.”

“I love you. I’ve loved you from the very beginning. And I think I will always love you.”

You knew things were over. What gave it away wasn’t the fact that he remained silent, letting both of you simmer in the echo of your words, it wasn’t either that his body had positioned as far away as the couch could allow it, with him almost sitting in its arm.

It was the eyes. The cloudiness in them, along with a mixture of emotions that were happening too fast for you to process. For a millisecond, there was a tenderness that made your heart melt. He wanted it too, you were sure.

That was until you saw the fear.

“I—I can’t.”

Two words and your world shattered.

“What?”

He stood up, beginning to pace back and forth. The fear that you had seen was being replaced with anger.

“We agreed to be just friends. You even said it was for the best.” He argued

“I wasn’t being honest. I was afraid.” You tried to reason with him, but he wasn’t listening. “I was afraid that you didn’t want it, or that this could ruin our friendship.”

“And this isn’t going to ruin us?”

It hurt. He must’ve seen it so he went up to you, his hands cupping your face.

“We are better off being like this.  I’ve never wanted a relationship, and neither have you, and you know it. We care about each other, and sure, we sleep together, but that’s what works out for us. What’s so wrong about being friends who sleep with each other?”

You didn’t answer for a while, your heart trembling in your chest.

“You…” Your voice was barely above a whisper, your throat closing as you fought the tears that wanted to escape your eyes. “You don’t love me?”

His forehead touched yours before answering. “Of course I love you. You have become one of the most important people in my life, and I lo– I can’t explain the way you make me feel. But this is not about that, I can’t love you the way you want me to love you. What we have is good, why can’t that be enough?”

He loved you but didn’t want to love you. Why?

Because your love was never good enough. That’s why there’s someone else’s underwear stuffed between the cushions. 

You scoffed at him, pulling yourself apart. “Good? You mean is good for you because you get to fuck me and anything that walks without feeling guilty?”

Your words were venomous. You wanted to hurt him, you wanted him to feel like you. And above all, you wanted to win, you wanted him to hurt more than you.

He turned around, looking as if you had just slapped him.

“Don’t fucking start.”

“I mean, that’s all you care about, isn’t it?” You pulled out the underwear and threw it to his face, a shocking expression as he grabbed it with his hand before throwing it away.

“Where did you get that?”

“It was in the fucking couch.” You threw him one of his couch cushions. “Let me guess, Dolores?” you asked, bitterly.

His lack of answer was enough.

You laughed sarcastically. "You’re fucking pathetic, you know that? Honestly, it’s getting really sad to watch you grovel around that upper class bitch, hoping her daddy will let you get an interview in his firm. At least have some self-respect and accept the fact that no matter how many times you screw her, you’re never going to get out of the shithole you were born in.” You got close to his face, so close you could feel his breath on you.

His fists clenched until his knuckles turned white. He was angrier than you had ever seen him before, but the pain in his eyes was the thing that you noticed the most. You had hurt him where it hurt the most.

Good.

Except he wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

“At least I’m not the one that came here expecting something more out of this because I’m the only man that has stuck long enough in your life and didn’t just fuck you and leave. Now that’s fucking pathetic.”

Silence. He regretted the moment the words left his mouth as your eyes clouded with tears, but he couldn’t say sorry, not after what he said.

This was the end.

It was always meant to end this way.

“I never meant any of the things I said that night.” Bucky pleaded.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. We can’t change the past.”

You walked away from him, opting instead to look at the city lights outside of the window. Your own reflection welcomed you at the same time, tears ruining what once had been a nicely applied makeup. Dark speckles covered the top of your cheeks; your eyeliner was almost gone, with the puffiness starting to settle instead.

This image seemed way too familiar; the last time you saw it was almost six years ago.

Bucky walked behind you.

“I’m sorry.”

A bitter laugh came out of you unexpectedly. Things never really change, do they?

You whipped your tears away, suddenly feeling as if you had run a marathon. The weight of everything made you think you weren’t going to make it past the doors of the building.

“I’ve heard that before.”

You turned around, little droplets streaming down his face.

“I love you.” His voice trembled.

You came close to him, your hands whipping away his tears.

“And what good has that done to us?”

If you hadn’t been so drowning in the sense of despair that didn’t seem to want to leave you, you might’ve found it funny the fact that every time you were in this room you ended up with a broken heart.

Your words had seemed to leave Bucky speechless as he only stared at you while a thousand thoughts ran through his mind, his eyes coming to the realization that you were right. What good is love when the only thing that you get out of it is pain?

His forehead was warm when you placed a kiss on it, but his body was still not moving. His breath hitched for a second when you cupped his pace, his eyes finally staring at you, empty.

Familiar arms wrapped around you, his arms encasing you in an embrace that yelled misery, a misery that could almost be compared to yours. Your legs started giving in, the imaginary weight of the situation taking a toll on you like nothing before.

People say that the way to stop hating someone is forgiveness. You had healed, you had reflected, and you had learned and forgiven. You had been right before when you said you didn’t hate him anymore; no matter how much you tried, you couldn’t hate him forever.

You knew how to forgive.

But how do you stop loving someone who's hurt you as much as you have them?

“I still love you too,” your lips trembled, a bitter sensation placing on your throat. “Why do I still love you?”

You trapped your love for so long you had convinced yourself it was gone along with the hate. It was only natural, wasn’t it? You had fooled yourself, though. It was always there, burning deep in you along with all the pain it had brought with itself, and now that you allowed yourself to admit it, it came in as if it were the first day.

“I don’t know,” he whispered against your lips. The warmth of his hand against your face made you yearn for a different outcome. “But not even thousands of miles between us and a hundred years could make me forget about you. Nothing can.”

His eyes looked at yours, desperately as if the words were rushing out of his mouth, running out of time.

“Nothing.”

You kissed him.

You kissed him with hunger.

You kissed him with anger.

You kissed him violently, desperately, passionately.

You kissed him with love.

His hands reached back to your zipper with a movement so quick you didn’t know how your dress ended up on the floor. Your chest was exposed as the dress you were wearing couldn’t be worn with a bra. The desire in his eyes made you shudder; his pupils had seemed to grow, and the look on them seemed almost animalistic.

You were like a drug to him, and this was the first time in years he had seen you like this.

Who were you to deny him when he looked at you like that?

You were never a romantic when it came to sex. The slow kisses, the soft touches, and the caresses were never your thing. You craved for the roughness, the possessiveness, and the fire. You were never a romantic when it came to sex, but with Bucky, there was always a layer of care, even in the roughest of times. His eyes always looked at you with a softness that made your heart pound against your chest.

Perhaps sex was never pretty whenever you two were together, but it sure as hell felt amazing.

Somehow his clothes were on the floor along with yours, both of you using them as a way to avoid the coldness of the tile. His hands dragged along your skin, his touch burning you with passion as they made their way down to your underwear. You were thankful you had chosen a semi-sexy pair of black panties instead of the almost grandma but extremely comfortable ones you had thought of. His lips went for your neck, nibbling just a little in the right spot to make your thighs clench.

A part of Bucky was relieved that he hadn’t forgotten how to touch you. He remembered the spot on your neck, right below your ear, that made you shiver. He remembered the way you liked when he toyed with you, his fingers just barely brushing against your slit over your panties. Your nails scratched his arm, a confirmation for him that you needed more of him.

Bites and licks traveled down your body, invading your senses. Your hands pulled on his hair hard, guiding him to kiss you again as your hands pulled down the edge of his boxers. You couldn’t take him anymore; you needed him now.

You both looked like teenagers, fighting to get out of the final remnant of your clothes while looking desperate to finally be able to fuck. In any other situation, you would’ve laughed at the sight of it, but now there was nothing you could think of more than having Bucky inside you.

Perhaps deep down you were still those dumb teenagers.

His fingers played with your clit, drawing slow and dragged circles that overloaded all your nerve endings. He knew the pace you liked, the muscle memory acting by itself. In return, yours also acted the same, drawing small little circles on the top of his cock. His breath hitched once your finger dragged along the vein of his cock.

One of his hands went to your neck, pressing slightly hard.

“You missed this, didn’t you?” He whispered against your ear. You couldn’t talk, the hand on your neck making sure of that, so you nodded. “I missed this too, angel.”

His fingers made their way inside you, your wetness letting them go inside easily as he reached inside for that little spot you loved so much. You couldn’t control the moans that came out of your mouth, and you were thankful there wasn’t anyone else on this floor.

You were getting close, your thighs clenching along with your walls, but his fingers left you once you were on the edge. You opened your eyes to look at him, anger clear on them, but you just saw him placing himself between your legs, his body on top of yours.

He was bigger than you remembered, his cock sliding into you slowly, allowing you to take your time to get used to him. You were waiting for the hard thrusts as soon as he knew you were ready, but instead he cupped one on your cheeks.

He kissed you.

He kissed you, but it wasn’t like before.

It wasn’t filled only with lust, dominance, and passion.

His lips tasted sweeter, his touch seemed warmer, but most importantly, his feelings were different.

He was kissing you with so much love it was almost overwhelming. He wasn’t stopping himself from showing it anymore; he allowed himself for the first time to be honest with you, but above all with himself.

He loved you.

He loved you intentionally and wholeheartedly.

He loved you eternally.

The sunrise shine began to make its way above the darkness. A couple of glasses with whiskey and a packet of crackers lay in front as you covered yourselves with a blanket he kept for when he stayed.

His fingers were drawing lazy circles on your skin as you were playing with his hair. A few stray kisses would sometimes land in your cheek, making you giggle like a teenager.

“Angel,” He called your attention, his eyes looking nervous. Your mind raced as you waited for him to find the words he wanted to say.

Maybe he was about to say it was a mistake. Maybe he had a girlfriend he hadn’t told you about. Maybe he was trying to kick you out.

Thought after thought flooded your mind until he spoke.

“I’m sorry.”

His words took you by surprise.

“I–“

“Wait,” he interrupted you. “I need to say this before chicken out again.”

You nodded, unsure of how you felt.

“Remember the first time we met?” He asked, a warm smile placed on his lips. You nodded again, the same smile on yours. “I don’t think I’ve told you this, but I was ready to make a move on you as soon as I saw you.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Well, Nat kind of warned me not to try anything. I didn’t really matter anyway; if anything, it made you seem more enticing.”

He chuckled as you rolled your eyes. Bucky was always Bucky.

“Anyways, when I first got to the bar, you were with Wanda and Nat while you were doing shots with them, and Wanda said something that made you laugh, and you ended up spitting your drink all over me as I was about to introduce myself.”

The once uncomfortable moment had lost its awkwardness and was now a funny memory to you.

“I don’t blame you for not sleeping with me after that; having tequila in my eyes would really put me out of the mood too.”

He chuckled.

“It wasn’t great, but it didn’t really put me off.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.” He said as he played with your hair. “You took me to the bathroom and helped me clean my eyes on the sink, and you started to say the most outlandish shit ever.”

The cringe got in you, your body slightly retracting itself as you remembered everything you said.

“I was drunk and nervous. Besides, I thought you might sue me because Nat told me you were a law student.”

“I considered it.” He joked. “I knew I liked you from that very moment.” He whispered, almost as if he were doing it with fear. “I never met anyone that made me laugh like that; even when it felt like my eyes were melting out of their sockets, all I could do was laugh at everything you said.”

Your hand reached to his chest, trying to give him the push he needed to keep going.

“I also remember the moment I realized I loved you. Remember that fight we had at Quentin’s party?”

“Which one?”

“The one with John Walker.”

“What are you even getting angry about?” He yelled as he chased you.

You were fighting against a sea of drunk college students, and the more you fought, the more you found yourself being pushed around. You heard him behind you, calling your name, but you had no intention of hearing him. You weren’t even sure why you were so angry, but you knew that you had to get away from him.

His arm finally reached you, dragging you to the side.

“Leave me the fuck alone.”

“What the fuck is your problem?” The smell of beer hit your nostrils as soon as he spoke. It was strong—almost too strong.

You shook off his hand.

“My problem is that you supposedly left to get me a drink, and then when I go looking for you, you’re getting all cozy with Dolores, and you just forgot about me.”

He rolled his eyes.

“She stopped me to talk; what was I going to do? Ignore her?”

“Maybe. But what you don’t do is tell me you’re going to be back and disappear for forty minutes.”

“Are you mad because I didn’t come back or because I was talking to Dot?”

Dot.

What a fucking asshole.

“I don’t care who you talk to, but you don’t leave your supposedly best friend stranded like that.”

“Well, sorry for thinking that my best friend was a grown woman that could take care of herself. I didn’t know you needed me to be by your side all the time.”

He didn’t mean that. He shouldn’t have left you alone in a party this big, not when it was only the two of you out of your friend group.

“Then why the fuck you brought me here if you were just going to fuck off as soon as we got here? You’re basically the only one I know here.”

“Then go make some friends.” He should’ve stopped there. If he hadn’t been drunk, maybe he would’ve just said sorry, and you two could’ve had a good time. Unfortunately, his brain and his mouth would sometimes lose against his own stupidity. “Maybe you’ll even find someone that’ll take that stick out of your ass too.”

Your eyes watered for a second, but you were never going to let him see you cry.

“Fuck you.” You muttered before submerging yourself in the sea of people again.

You drank.

The more you drank, the angrier you got. And the angrier you got, the more you wanted to hurt him and forget.

The next time Bucky saw you, you were on top of John Walker, your mouth against his as his hands squeezed your ass.

“When I saw you with him,“ his voice faltered. “It hurt. I thought it hurt because you were with fucking John Walker and I fucking hated his guts, but it wasn’t just that. Even if you had been with a random guy I’ve never seen before, it would’ve still hurt the same.”

“Bucky…” You try to apologize, but he’s quick enough to stop you.

“I’m not saying this to make you feel bad. It’s my fault how all of this ended. If I had been honest with myself about you, then none of this would’ve happened. I have loved you for so long I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like to not love you, and now that I have finally said it, I don’t think I want to forget, even if we are not together.”

You didn’t say a word, not sure that you would be able to talk without breaking down, but when you saw his eyes, you couldn’t stop it.

“We hurt each other so much, didn’t we?” He nodded, a sad chuckle along with it.

The irony of it. Love could conquer everything, except the pain that you had caused each other.

“I’m sorry too.” You whispered. “I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for wanting to hurt you.”

His arm went over your shoulders, squeezing you tightly against him.

“I’m sorry for disappearing; I know it hurt you when I left. Steve tried to tell me, but I wouldn’t listen, but I could see he was worried.”

“It was rough.” He hesitated to answer, not wanting to make you feel worse about it.

“I’m sorry for everything.”

His lips kissed the top of your head, both of you turning to see the sunrise.

“I forgave you a long time ago.” He whispered. “Can you forgive me?”

You smiled as you squeezed his hand. “I forgave you a long time ago too.”

You didn’t say anything for a while, deciding on just taking in the view of the city that was once your home. And just like that, sitting on the floor with Bucky at your side, you finally felt your heart truly healing.

“I missed this.” He said.

“Me too.”

“We should’ve taken a cab.” He said, watching you walk uncomfortably.

“And miss the opportunity to get this fucking deliciousness? No fucking way.” You take another big bite of your bagel, squeezing it a little too hard and making the side push out the cream cheese. “Besides, we’re almost there.”

After a couple more blocks of walking, talking, and eating, you finally reach your hotel. Once you get to the steps, you hop out of the uncomfortable heels that had been punishing your feet for the whole walk, a sigh of relief so loud it made Bucky laugh.

“Well, this is my stop.” You gesture towards the building behind you.

“Yeah.”

A certain heavyness settles on both. You don’t want to say goodbye.

“I didn’t even ask you, how long are you staying for?”

“A couple of days more. I still need to catch up with everyone else.”

“Good, good.”

He’s the one to hug you first. His arms around your waist pushed you against him, the small remnants of his cologne filling your nostrils. Your arms clung on to him, clutching him in between them.

Minutes went by, and you were the first one to let go as you kissed his cheek.

“Don’t be a stranger.” You said.

You walked up the steps towards the entrance of the hotel, your mind just now processing everything that had happened that night. You never thought you would talk to him again, let alone spend a whole night with him.

It was a good night.

It was a good goodbye.

Your hand reached out to open the door to the lobby, but Bucky called your name. You turned around, not sure what he was going to say.

“Do you think you could love me one last time?”

You smiled at him. The so-ever dramatic and romantic Bucky Barnes had never changed. He laughed along with you, knowing you found him a little ridiculous.

“I’ll see you around Jamie.” You said as you turned around.

None of you were sure what was next. Maybe it was best if you stayed friends and rebuilt the relationship you both had tainted so badly. Or maybe this was a new opportunity for something that could be the best thing of your lives, or perhaps it was the last time you saw each other. Whatever it was, you were sure of one thing. You were never going to lie about your feelings again, and neither would he.

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[hannibals-favourite-meal]

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.⋆｡Midnight Swim｡⋆.

Steve Rogers x plus size reader

Being on the run doesn’t exactly get you a comfortable life, but finally, there’s a chance for you to relax, if only you could find your swimsuit… or not

Warnings: skinny dipping, nudity (obvi), brief mentions of the events of Civil War, implied smut WC: 1.4k

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Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

You ached, putting it lightly. Months of running from virtually every government on the planet didn’t exactly give you the luxury of relaxing or unwinding after a long day. The rooms you stayed in never had baths to soak in or even a comfy mattress to sink into so when Steve announced that the motel you were going to had not only a jacuzzi but also king sized beds, you thought you had died and gone to heaven. 

“I hope you don’t mind sleeping on the floor, gorgeous, cause I will be spread eagle on that bed.” Sam wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you climbed the cement steps up to the second floor. 

“Don’t worry about me birdie, that hot tub is calling my name.” You moaned, giving the man a light shove.

“We leave at sunup, don’t get too comfortable.” Steve’s voice broke the little bubble of happiness around the two of you. You looked back at the man, his brow was furrowed, the muscles in his jaw clenching. It wasn’t hard to see that he was different now; gone was the hopeful and starry eyed golden boy, instead you were left with a man who was only trying to survive in the face of complete betrayal of everything he held dear. Throw in a beard and a whole new uniform, Captain America was no more.

“C’mon Steve, we can afford a couple days of rest. We’re all exhausted.” Natasha laid a hand on his arm. “Besides, I think we all need to have a proper shower and do laundry.” You smiled gratefully at her as Steve sighed.

“Alright, just don’t draw too much attention to yourselves. Nat, how about you room with Sam?” 

“It’s my turn to get Y/L/N.” Sam stopped in front of the door to his room, shooting a puzzled look at you. Nat matched his expression but still stepped forward to take your spot next to the man. 

“We both know you’re gonna fall asleep immediately, just like Nat, and if Y/N is going down to the pool, someone needs to stay up to make sure she’s ok.” Steve shoved the key in the door, not bothering to even look in your direction. You met Sam’s gaze but he could only shrug at you as Nat wiggled her eyebrows.

Of course the woman knew about your crush on the ex-Captain, given that it was the one reason you had yet to room with him despite the rotating roommates you agreed to when you went on the run. Your stomach rolled as you tried to come up with any excuse to not walk in that room and have to face the reality of sharing a bed with the man who’s responsible for the mass ruining of your panties. 

The light in the room clicked on just as the door next to yours snapped shut. “Fuck me.” You hiked your duffle bag higher on your shoulder, took a deep breath and stepped inside.

Steve had already dropped his bag on the side of the bed closest to the door and shed the heavy jacket that shielded his toned physique from the world. He barely glanced at you as you entered but you knew his guard was still up, you doubted it had ever come down since what happened at the airport.

“You don’t have to wait up for me. No one else is staying here, the front desk guy said so himself.” You unzipped your bag. 

“It’s my job to look after you.” He retorted. You huffed and started pulling out your clothes in search of the singular bikini you had managed to obtain in your ‘travels’.

“Really? What’s your 401k look like?” Even without seeing it, you knew he was rolling his eyes at you. “Dammit.” You hissed as your fingers brushed the bottom of the bag, no trace of the thin material in sight. 

Steve turned from the desk where he had laid out a map of the area and raised an eyebrow at you. “I lost my swimsuit,” Your shoulders dropped in disappointment, “No hot tub for me I guess.” 

You shoved the empty bag and pile of clothes onto the floor before flopping down onto the bed. “This sucks.”

The desk chair creaked. “Just go in your underwear.”

Your head turned against the sheets, the thick cotton of the duvet brushing against your cheek. Steve was leaned forward, elbows planted firmly on his knees. Dark blue eyes stared right through you and suddenly, you couldn’t remember why you were upset. “Um, yeah I guess. But I don’t have any extra bras at the moment though.” You gestured to your discarded clothes.

Steve’s lip quirked up briefly before settling back into his now usual stern expression. “I’ll wash your stuff for you in the morning.” 

“Since when do you offer to do other people’s laundry?” Your hands slid up to rest beneath your head.

“I’ve been pushing all of you too hard. Maybe I want to start making it up to you.” He leaned back in the chair, the sheer mass of his seeming to grow as he rolled his broad shoulders. Unable to help yourself, you let your eyes trace the sharp muscles of his arms. It had been a long time since he was this relaxed in front of you.

“So maybe there is a bit of America’s Golden Boy still left in there.” He rolled his eyes and turned back to the desk.

“Go, before I change my mind.” You slinked off the bed with a smile. 

“Don’t wait up.” You cooed as the motel door shut behind you.

——————

The silence was a welcome friend. No cars or sirens, just the soft bubbling of the jets and your own happy groans as your body finally unwound. Steam billowed up from the water, disappearing into the night sky, brushing against the stars. The heat bled into your bones and it was all you could do to not melt.

You felt like you could wash away everything from this past year. 

You sank deeper into the water, the gentle ripples now brushed your neck, making you hum in satisfaction.

“Y/N, I was thinking that maybe I could grab some takeout from that 24 hour restaurant we passed a little while back, you hungry?” You lazily looked back over your shoulder just as Steve slipped past the high fence that enclosed the space. You watched as his gaze travelled from your body over to the pile of clothes on the deck, your panties and bra prominently displayed on top.

“Sure, I could eat.” You shrugged, swallowing down a smile at his now blank expression. Steve was frozen in place as the realisation dawned on him.

“Doll.” A shiver ran through you, that was definitely very new. A sudden confidence filled your veins as you watched his Adam's apple bob.

“Steven.” You turned around so that you were now kneeling on the bench, the water now barely covering your breasts. Blue eyes slowly trailed down from your face, following the droplets of water that clung to your skin. “Actually, now that I’m thinking about it, I don’t think I’m craving take out.”

The water lapped at your stomach as you sat up. Steve’s eyes immediately darted to your face as a deep blush crawled up his neck. “Doll, what is your underwear doing on the deck?” 

“I think that’s quite obvious Cap.” The muscles in his jaw rolled as his expression grew darker. Heat curled in your stomach. “I didn’t want to get them wet. Well, more wet than they already were.”

“It’s dangerous to be out here alone like this.” He took a tentative step towards you, the lock on the gate clicking shut. 

“Well then, it’s a good thing I have you here to protect me.” You sank back into the water, moving backwards until you could sit on the other side, giving yourself the perfect view of the super soldier. His jacket dropped first, then the ratty baseball cap that covered his darker hair. You bit your lip as his t-shirt followed.

There was a spattering of light hair across his chest, getting thicker and darker along his torso, until it disappeared beneath his pants. His hands interrupted your view but you wouldn’t complain, not when they were undoing his belt. You fought a moan as the button popped open and his fly was slowly drawn down. 

“You gonna join me Cap? The water is just perfect.” The dark material of his jeans slid down and you wondered if Commando was a better fitting title for the man. 

Steve smirked as he stepped into the tub. “I have to look out for you don’t I?” His hands grabbed at your wide hips and tugged you against his body effortlessly. “It is my job.”

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Indecent Exposure Pt. III: Poolside Promises

Summary: You convince Ari to finally let you have a little fun this summer. But at what cost? Check out Part One!

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, Dad's Best Friend Themes, Older Men/Younger Women Themes, Brief Allusion to Oral Sex, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Please heed all warnings. Part of my Indecent Exposure Series. If you'd like to be added to the tag list, please let me know.

Almost Two Weeks After Your Father's Departure...

You glide through the water effortlessly, seeking a brief relief from the summer heat. While the news had promised you and everyone else that today’s weather would be one for the books, the warnings still hadn’t been enough to prepare you for the heat that assailed you the moment you’d stepped out the back door. 

However, it’s not until you allow your head to break through the surface that you realize you were no longer alone. You had company. And he was also staring at you.

Again. It was something he had a habit of doing.

“Can I help you?” It’s a flatly delivered question. 

The man only shrugs, dragging a hand through his shaggy, chestnut brown locks. Frankly, he looked so much like his brother you were almost surprised that you’d never really noticed just how many similarities they actually shared.

Same striking blue eyes. Same massive build. Same chiseled jaw that looked great with or without a beard. But where Steve always possessed an aura or control, Ari emanated something a little more raw and untamed. 

You found found that it sometimes did funny things to those annoying butterflies that had seemingly taken up residence in your belly these days.

“Did you need something?” You try as you continue to tread water in the middle of the pool.

“Nothing you're quite prepared to give, sweet Clover.” Ari responds cryptically, his head cocking to the side as he continues to survey you. 

“Then why the hell do you keep staring at me?”

That was another thing you’d recently come to learn about Ari over the last couple of days. He didn’t seem to care whenever you decided to take a spicy tone with him – a fact you’d discovered when you’d found him sitting in your father’s study just the other morning.

You’d been so happy until that moment, especially since you’d previously been granted three days free of Bucky, Steve, and Andy. Your time alone had been glorious, even if it had proved to be short lived. 

You watch the older man closely, fascinated by the increasingly pronounced tick in his jaw. Hell, if he was allowed to stare then so would you. However, the question was, who would blink first?

Turns out, that award belonged to Ari. 

Humming a tune under his breath, he proceeds to grab a lawn chair before pulling it closer to the edge of the pool. Neither one of you says a word as he takes a seat, his sinewy muscles bunching and flexing beneath the thin fabric of his light gray t-shirt. 

“Just came out here to check on you.” He reaches up to scratch at his beard. “See how you were managing in this heat.”

“I’m managing by planning to spend all afternoon in the pool, like any other sane person would.”

“Ya know, I’m pretty sure Bucky and the boys made it clear that they don’t appreciate your little penchant for snark.” He muses, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.  

Probably. You inwardly concede. It definitely hasn't been winning you any favors. Which is why you often preferred to play the part of a mute. Whenever they allowed you to, that is.

“Doesn’t seem to bother you.” You respond honestly before closing your eyes and flipping your body so that you can float on your back, giving Ari a glimpse of your peaches and cream-colored bikini.

“That’s cuz’ not too much bothers me. I don’t allow it.” 

“Hmm…” You spread your arms, silently wishing you could simply float away from this conversation entirely. “Maybe you should talk to the others about that. Seems like I find a new way to piss them off every time I open my mouth.” 

“Nah.” Ari shrugs away your words as he continues to appear unbothered by the heat. “Something tells me they don’t quite know just what to do with a pretty little thing like you.” 

“Oh. And you do?” Well, you could safely say that you hadn’t been expecting that answer. 

“I’d certainly like to think so.” 

His statement hangs in the air as you both fall silent. While you weren’t quite sure what your would-be caretaker was talking about, it was definitely enough to make you think. And it’s at that moment that you decide to change tactics. Instead of floating here annoyed, perhaps it was time to use Ari’s seemingly indulgent personality to your benefit. 

A friend of yours was throwing a party tonight. And you wanted to go. 

When you’d previously brought it up to Bucky and Steve, they’d both hemmed and hawed over the subject – asking you all kinds of questions and refusing to give you anything more than a non-committal “we’ll have to see” or "we'll have to sit down and talk about it". And when you’d tried to play the ultimate trump card by calling your father, he’d sided with them. 

“I’m not there, pumpkin.” Your Dad had said while you’d been holed-up pouting in your room. “I asked your Uncles to watch over you, which means I’m gonna have to defer to them in situations like this one."

And, as luck would have it, you hadn’t been able to get your answer before they’d just up and disappeared on you like the overbearing assholes they were proving themselves to be.

“Yeah, well, I’m not sure I trust the judgment of anyone who’s crazy enough to sit out here in this heat and roast – not when there’s a perfectly good pool, like, right in front of them.”

“Not sure that pool of yours is big enough for the both of us.” Ari mutters, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. Although you get the feeling he’s talking more to himself than you. 

“It’s plenty big.” You eagerly reassure him, adjusting your position so that you can float closer to where your pseudo-guardian is sitting. “See? There’s aaall this space.”

For a second Ari appears unsure. And the closer you get, there’s no denying the fact that he was finally showing signs of feeling the heat. It’s hard to miss the thin line of sweat dotting along his brow.

“C’mon…” You urge, playfully splashing him. “Don’t be such a hard ass, Uncle Ari.” You decide to tack on the last bit for his benefit, all the while trying hard to keep the edge out of your tone. But if he notices, he thankfully doesn’t comment.

“Fine. Melt.” You heave an exasperated sigh when he still doesn’t move. Climbing onto a nearby pool raft, you turn your attention back to your companion. “Jesus, you guys are always so serious, like all of the time. I mean, what’s wrong with having a little fun?”

“Alright.” That’s all you get before he reaches to pull his shirt over his head, revealing the sculpted body hiding beneath.

You scarcely have the chance to appreciate the sight before you’re treated to the sound of a splash. You let out a squeal as water goes splashing everywhere, rewetting your already rapidly drying body. Seconds later, Ari’s head breaks through the water.

“Happy now, princess?” He disappears again, only to reappear closer to where you’re currently lounging. 

“Depends.” 

“On?” He asks, seemingly content to tread water alongside you. You’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t at least admit that the man was kind of attractive.

Or, as your friends had put it, sexy as hell. Yeah, you weren’t quite sure how you felt about that one.

“Well…” You hedge, giggling when he splashes you to encourage you to hurry up.

“Out with it, Clover. A closed mouth doesn’t get fed.” Or fucked. He silently adds.

“There’s this party I kinda wanted to go to tonight. All my friends will be there and I haven't really had the chance to celebrate my birthday with them yet.” You finish, your teeth going to worry your bottom lip. 

Ari studies you for a moment as he tries to figure out the best way to respond. “What did Uncle Steve and the others say?” He already knew that you'd asked them, and he wanted to make it clear that he’s not one to be so easily manipulated. “I’m assuming you asked them first.”

“They said “maybe”. Well, two of them did anyway. But then they left without ever giving me a real answer.” 

“I see.” He offers you a cheeky grin while pausing to swat at a wayward fly. “Maybe we should call them. See if they’ve finally made up their minds–.” 

“No!” You shoot straight up on your perch, accidently flipping the raft and sending you tumbling back into the icy cool water. You come up sputtering and coughing, and while you can’t quite tell, you’re also fairly certain that Ari is laughing at you.

“You all good?”

“Yeah.” You gag, hating the taste of chlorine. 

Ari nods before moving to retrieve your float. He’s even kind enough to hold it still long enough for you to climb back on it again. Only once he’s satisfied that you’re secure does he seem interested in continuing the conversation. 

“So…it sounds like you really wanna go to this party. Don’t you, Clover?” 

“Yes.” You breathe, refusing to say anything more than that just in case he was actually considering it. You’re so desperate that you don’t even balk when he begins swimming towards the edge of the pool, dragging you along with him. He doesn’t speak again until he’s reached his destination. 

“Tell me, will there be any drinking at this party?”

“Wha–no!”

“Now’s not the time to lie to me, princess. Will people be drinking at this party?” He reaches up to cup your chin, his brilliant blue eyes boring into yours as if he's attempting to unravel all of your secrets.

One by one.

“I swear! Grace’s parents would positively kill her if they found out she threw that kind of party.”

Ari quietly mulls over your answer before deeming it to be honest enough for his liking. “How about boys?”

Fuck. While you couldn’t be honest, you also didn’t want to lie. Not when you were this close to getting what you wanted. Which was freedom. 

“Her little brother will be there. He’s a couple grades below us. But it's not like she can kick him out or anything.”

“Just her little brother, huh?” You could tell he was feeling more than a little skeptical. However, you’re surprised when he seemingly lets it slide. Releasing his grip on your chin, he gives you a little push, content to let you float away. 

“I swear. We can’t do anything too crazy with him around – he’d rat us out sooo fast.”

Please believe me. Please believe me. Please believe me. 

Holding your breath, you watch as he climbs out of the water. He makes a beeline for your towel, patting himself dry to the best of his ability before draping it over his shoulder. 

“Okay, sweetheart. I might be willing to make an executive decision on this one, provided you’re willing to do something for me in return. Something that’ll keep at least some of the heat off of me when it comes to dealing with Steve and the boys.”

What you didn't know was that they had already discussed your desire to attend this party – him, Bucky, Andy, and Steve – and they'd decided that the answer was "no". But since you'd gone the last couple days without throwing a tantrum, Ari felt inclined to give you what you wanted. It also helped that he found your bratty ways to be rather endearing.

So long as you weren't outrightly disrespectful.

“Anything.” The word flies out of your mouth before you can catch it. And just like that, that damn tick in his jaw is back.

“The only way I feel comfortable enough letting you go is if you promise to text me every 30 minutes. Doesn’t have to be long. Just a message to let me and the other guys know you’re okay.”

What the hell?

You open your mouth to protest before deciding you’re better off not. Right now, you’d take the win and try to renegotiate the rest later. 

“Take it or leave it, princess.” 

“I’ll take it!” You reply, albeit probably a little too enthusiastically. “Thank you so much!”

Ari doesn’t even crack a smile. Instead that damned tick of his only seems to grow even more pronounced. “Alright.” With that, he turns and begins striding towards the door. “I’ll, uh…I’ll get you another towel.” He pauses once he reaches his destination, turning to face you once more. 

“And Clover?”

“Yeah?” You call back, feeling happier than you have in almost two whole weeks. 

“Don’t make me regret this." Ari rumbles, allowing you to get a good, long look at his muscled, hair covered chest. "I'd hate for my kindness to come back and bite me in the ass. It would be a shame to start the summer off on such a bad note.”

“I…”

His words leave you so speechless that you can only watch as Ari proceeds to waltz through the sliding door, leaving you outside all alone once more. But not before reiterating his promise to bring you another towel so that you can get ready for lunch.

“Well, fuck…” Is all you can muster before rolling yourself off your float and into the cooling expanse of the water. You swim down to the bottom, touching the floor with both hands as you work to center yourself. 

You hold your breath for as long as you’re able before the need for oxygen forces you to resurface. As you greedily gulp air into your burning lungs you tell yourself not to give a fuck about Ari and his bullshit. Instead, you decide to focus on the most important aspect of tonight, namely…

Just what in the hell were you going to wear?

END

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[ronearoundblindly]

Hideout (Interlude)

touch-starved!Nomad Steve Rogers x motel employee!reader (see series)

Written for @whiskeytangofoxtrot555's birthday from her premise ask 💜 but also serves as a wee prezzie for @blogbog710, @targaryenvampireslayer, @navybrat817, and (belatedly) the lovely @ellethespaceunicorn! (What the heck is in the water?? So many bdays I didn't know about!)

Summary: Your birthday ritual is interrupted.

*You do not need to know anything about this series to enjoy this blurb.* Warnings for suggestive eating, a sweet kiss (literally), cuddling in minimal clothing, but otherwise, just fluff and feels! WC 1.2k

Of course, you don’t always do this. Sometimes you’re out with friends. Sometimes your parents make a huge deal out of late dinner. Sometimes you draw the short straw and have to work the front desk, but not tonight.

The searing red of the digital clock counts down for you (or up depending on how you look at it). Soon—very soon—it will be midnight, and you can wish yourself the first ‘happy birthday.’ To some that might seem sad, but it’s become a ritual of you putting yourself first. Birthday parties may be for children but celebrating YOU should never go out of style.

The red flickers. New numbers. New you. Older, wiser, and alive. It’s a beautiful thing.

Your eyelids fall heavy after your long soak in the tub, the lingering scent of the bubblebath still warm on your skin. You’re content and tired. You hum as a smile tugs the corners of your mouth.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Why you aren’t startled is a hope you don't admit aloud, a greedy, gluttonous vice that piles on to a reality you cannot share with a single living soul except…

Steve Rogers, the fugitive Captain America, crouches outside your window, nimble and stealthy, having climbed to the slant of roof without you noticing.

But you wished for him. You always wish for him to come back.

Your smile grows as you slide off the edge of your bed and press your hand to the pane of glass. He mirrors the gesture, unhurried, soft. It’s just a moment more before you lift the latches and invite him in.

Whispers of ‘hey’ are exchanged while Steve crawls through, but he only answers your surprised “what are you doing here?” with a kiss to your forehead and a long hug.

You taught him how to hug like that. He's taken it to another level as anxiety melts out of you faster than it did in the bath.

His warm skin smells of pine and leather, likely from wearing his decrepit Cap suit to sneak around the woods behind your house. It fits his mountain-man vibe these days--full beard, hair curling beneath his ears, desperate loneliness he uses you to brighten.

You're not sure Steve comprehends how much light he brings to your life in return, but you soak up what you can.

He stands tall, still grinning, and drops a small, structured backpack to the floor. From it he pulls a pastry box, a little pack of candles, and a lighter. He goes through the entire process of preparing your cupcake in his palm before stretching out his hand.

The tiny, flickering flame shimmers in his twilight eyes.

“Happy birthday, Tops.”

As you gently take your treat, it occurs to you that you’ve never told Steve Rogers your birthday. 

“How did you know?”

Technically, the question is casual, but you’re still curious.

His eyebrows shoot up, dramatic and comical shadows cast across his handsome features.

“Well, see, in my…position—” Wax drips onto the towering icing while Steve rubs his neck, guilty and avoiding your eyes. “I have to take certain…precautions, and I was just—” 

“Did you look me up? Online? Do some research, huh? Check up on me?” 

You’re teasing him, but it is fun to see the huge man kneeling at your bedside squirm. His blush is crimson in the candlelight.

You poke his burly shoulder. “You were checkin’ me out…”

“It’s not like that,” he whispers. “Anyway, make a wish, birthday girl.” Steve pushes the cupcake higher in your hold, encouraging you with a wry smile.

Your breath is swift and precise, your desire so clear at the forefront of your mind that picking a wish—another wish, since he’s already here—takes no time at all.

Steve maneuvers himself to sit up on your bed, pulling you to into his lap.

“Good surprise?”

“The best,” you whisper.

You remove the candle and hold the bottom to Steve’s lips. “Lick.”

He sucks off the icing slowly, keeping his eyes locked with yours.

You playfully run your finger through the frosting and taste it, too. If you ever told him your favorite cake flavor, you can’t remember that either, but he clearly knows.

“Tasty?” he asks, a swipe of his tongue wetting his lips.

“Uh-huh.”

You take another dollop and offer your finger to him.

He chuckles. “It’s all yours. I’m not fond of super-sweet things.”

“Oh?” You let the whipped, buttery sugar dissolve in your mouth, thinking. “You’re fond of me, so…are you saying I’m not sweet?”

Your concern is overly dramatic, but Steve stares, biting his bottom lip. “No.”

“Then what do I add to the flavor?” You pull down a corner of crimped paper to try the cake itself. He’s still pondering when you clean lingering stickiness off your thumb.

“Clarity,” Steve finally says. “You offer clarity in a very blurry life.”

His hand on your back shifts to cradle your head, bringing you closer until you’re captured in an intense but chaste kiss. He cups your cheek in his other palm and licks across your sweet lips until you open for him. Steve devours you like you are the real treat, uncaring if his offering splats on the floor. It’s not on fire anymore, so who cares?

Something else occurs to you, jolting you to break away.

“How long can you stay?”

Steve pets down his beard, restarting his brain. “Till morning, I guess, but then I should go. I don’t want to ruin any of your other plans.”

Unbidden, you inhale swiftly and are overtaken by a yawn.

He’s wildly amused by that. “Tired, Tops?”

“No,” you lie, feeling another one coming on. “If I eat the rest of this, I’ll have energy.”

“Or—“ Steve plucks the confection away before you can slam it in two bites flat “—you can finish this for breakfast and get some sleep.”

You whine in protest because every minute you sleep is a minute with him wasted. He senses exactly that.

“I promise to stay right here all night. Come on. Get comfy.”

He repackages your cupcake to keep it fresh while you crawl into bed. You’ve never seen Steve have to remove his suit, and to watch, it looks tedious and involved.

“Took a second to master, I tell ya,” he mutters once the top is off.

Another minute and he’s shuffling under the covers beside you, aligning his body to snuggle yours, keeping you facing him.

Again his hand finds your cheek, his thumb brushing across your skin gently. He’s purposefully lulling you, placing the most delicate kisses over your forehead, his beard tickling your nose and making it scrunch up.

“Sorry,” he breathes.

You tilt upwards to steal the apology right from his lips. Usually, your time together is dictated by his needs, even if he doesn’t ask for the attention. It’s uplifting to have no worry of caring for him explicitly. This is just you with him, zero pressure, tons of love, nothing between.

“Hey, Steve?”

You wait for the deep rumble of a hum from his chest

“Thank you. I don’t think I ever said that.”

He smiles against your mouth, breaking away with a swift double peck.

“My pleasure, sweetheart.” He pulls you flush to his chest, sighing happily when you toss your leg over his hip. “Happy birthday,” Steve whispers into your hair. “Thank you for letting me in.”

You fall asleep with him everywhere, in your arms, in your lungs, and in your heart. Your wish is that he never leaves, and for tonight, he’s doing the best he can to make your every wish come true.

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

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[buckys-wintersoldier]

Heyyy, my talented friend ♡

I want to make a lil request for a drabble from His Forever And Ever series ;) 

Mob!Bucky's reaction to Y/N dating someone else after him?? (maybe we can see a glimpse of a jealous boyfriend 👀) Heehee i just know it's gonna be amazing 😉 pls take your time, no pressure 💕

Also have an amazing day ! ✨️

Hey, thank you for the sweet words and the request. Bucky being jealous mhmm- I like that and I gives me a lot of filthy thoughts.🤭😂

// Paring // (Ex-)Boyfriend!Mob!Bucky Barnes x (Ex-)Girlfriend!Reader

// Summary // After the break up Bucky sees you flirting with another guy.

// Wordcount // 1.160 Words

// Warnings // bit of stalking behavior, mention of sexual content (blink and you miss it), insults

// Authors Note // This is a Drabble which could be a possibility situation in the “His forever and ever” series. Plus it’s a bit changed because don’t wanna hurt our poor Bucky! Hope you still like it.

// Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist //

// Series Masterlist //

Bucky knows that you tried to move on, but it doesn’t mean that he will let you off that easily. Seeing you working and hanging out a lot with your best friend, Steve, doesn’t annoy him that much. But the thing — the person that really annoys him — John Walker.

How can you even dare to think that this blond haired little bitch could be as Bucky, could make you feel like him, could give you what the monster could give you, or love you like Bucky loves you.

He doesn’t really understand how you be can close to the other man without a disgusted expression. Bucky only has to hear his name or see him appearing somewhere and he immediately wants to beat that blond haired man up.

“She is in the bar with him,” Sam says, standing in front of Bucky’s desk while the mobster is growling. You’re out with John way too often for his liking, why can’t you see that Bucky’s the only one who loves you like you deserve it?

He messed up and he knows it but there can’t be a man who can love you more than Bucky does. If he wouldn’t love you, he wouldn’t keep an eye on you, he wouldn’t follow you and he wouldn’t need so much time because of his nervousness to talk to you.

“Gonna need to talk to that guy, thinks he can touch my girl,” Bucky groans frustrated while running his hand through his long brown hair.

His beard grows just as his hair. Bucky likes that style, especially because you always loved his beard and maybe he gets you back when he shows you how good his beard is working in between your legs?

“Don’t you think you shouldn’t do that? When she finds out she will be mad,” Sam mumbles. Luckily he is one of Bucky’s best friends and he knows that no matter how angry Bucky is he often listens to him or at least doesn’t throw him out when he says something.

“And then he is gonna fuck her? No! She is mine and I won’t let Walker touch my girl!” Bucky says through gritted teeth, getting off the chair to make his way to the door and drive to the bar where you’re going to meet John.

Sam sighs, following his best friend out of the room before he turns around a corner and makes his way into the office. He is just going to work — he knows how much you mean to Bucky.

Bucky walks to the car, two of his bodyguards going with him. And while they are in the car, the mobster already makes a plan how he is going to get you back and how he tells John that you belong to Bucky.

"Bucky, please," you say, pushing him back by his chest, his eyes darken and his jaw clenching while he looks at John. He doesn't know what you like about the other man, he isn't - he isn't Bucky.

"Only when that son of a bitch fucks off and never talks to you ever again," he growls, his hands gripping your forehearms firmly. A big grin forms on his plump lips when John walks a few steps away from you.

Bucky’s blue eyes are on the other man, while you hold Bucky pressed between the bar behind him and you. You know that he could push you away easily but he doesn't. Especially not when he can be so close to you, feeling your soft skin underneath his fingers and inhaling your sweet, intoxicating scent.

"I'm sorry, dragâ mea," Bucky apologizes when John finally leaves the bar. His head falling forward to rest against your shoulder. And suddenly there is nothing left of the big, fearful mobster he usually is. He inhales deeply, tears that flow down his cheeks soak your shirt and you're surprised that he lets his emotions out in public.

"Bucky, you can't come here and just insult the guests," you mumble, sliding your fingers through his hair. He isn't the only one who missed one, and sliding your fingers through his soft hair gives you a moment of everything back that you miss.

You don't support his behavior, nor like it but you can't deny that it shows that he still loves you. You still have the same comforting and calming effect on him. It only needs your arms around Bucky, your intoxicating scent and your soft voice to make the muscular let go of everything because he knows you will catch him if he falls down.

"B-But he can't have you," Bucky whispers, knowing that he shouldn't stop you from being happy. But can you be happy when he isn't with you? "'m sorry. Doll, I miss you, y- I can't be without you. I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have done that, but I miss you so much."

"I miss you too, but there are better ways to talk to me. And he could never replace you, he came here a few times, asking me out but whenever he did-" you inhale deeply, feeling your own tears building up in the corner of your eyes. "I always thought about you, I couldn't go out with him, because he isn't you, Buck."

"I don't want someone close to you who isn't me. Please, come home, it's so empty when you're not there, no light, only darkness. I messed up, but I will make it better this time," Bucky mumbles, lifting his head to look at you with his red eyes.

His heart is racing while he waits for you to answer. He wouldn't be mad would you say no, how could he? He messed up but you still help him calm down, you don't kick his ass for interrupting you. But living with him is more than just a hug that calms him down.

"I asked Sam to help me with the work to have more time for you," Bucky adds when you don't answer after a moment. You chuckle, knowing that he really means it when he lets someone else do the work he thinks is important. Bucky loves having control and giving his work to someone else always scares him.

"You get the chance to prove it to me, to prove that I'm not self-evident for you," you say. Bucky eyes immediately light up and he nods his head. His big hands make their way to your face, cupping it. He pulls you closer, his lips trailing over your nose to your forehead where he presses them softly against your forehead.

"Thank you, I love you, dragâ mea," Bucky mumbles, smirking against your forehead. He will prove it to you, prove that you're not self-evident and that he can be the best version of himself for you. That's what he wants to show you and he will, and he does with the brightest eyes and the widest smile.

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[espinosaurusrexex]

Revision

Professor!SteveRogers x Student!Female!Reader AU

summary: Professor Rogers was a lot of things, but for you, he was even more. A secret affair? A fun little side thing? You didn’t know yet. But you'd gladly seek out every possible moment with him until you did.

a/n: once upon a time I had a crush on my professor… this is what came out of it (don’t worry it didn’t really happen) but shame on me for keeping this in the drafts for so long

thank you @sebsgirl71479 for finding this gif and also very special thanks to @urcatslitterbox for taking the time and making one herself! you are the greatest!

word count: 3.3k

warnings: age gap (reader is of legal age of course), student/teacher relationship, a little fluff (because apparently I can’t do it without) this is obviously smut (dry humping, praise kink, unprotected p in v - wrap it before you tap it guys, slight overstimulation, voyeurism - if you squint), I don't know what else to tell you !MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

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

“Do you know why I asked you to stay, Ms. Y/L/N?” His arms crossed before his chest as his gaze followed the last students roaming amongst the rows of the vast lecture hall, a blonde strand of hair falling loose and settling in a soft curve over his eye. Professor Rogers looked intimidating, but so damn sexy as well. His biceps bulged beneath the checkered white and blue button-up, his sleeves halfway rolled up, restrained by his evenly muscular forearms.

“To be perfectly honest, Professor,” Your voice stayed even, a slight mockery undertone by the use of formality when you had called him far more personal things than that before. Steve, Stevie, Daddy... you shook out of it - there were still people here. “I don’t. I was quite confident that my assignment was to your... satisfaction.” A smug grin hid behind the last word, as you remembered the actual satisfaction that assignment had brought you as well.

Steve had to hide his smile, too. His eyes darted with amusement when he tilted his head forward to peer up at you through his thick lashes. Your eyes wandered to his legs. His tan chinos were tight on his muscular thighs and the way he leaned back with his knees spread even wider - holy mother of god.

He knew damn well how hot he was, and the annoying thing was that he also knew how to make it work for him. Steve reveled in the power his body language had over you.

He watched as your tights clenched together behind his desk. The simple movement of his fingers on a desk could make you keen thinking about the places they had done that before. His confidence seeped though every fucking vein in his body, dripping in thick undertones and slight remarks out of his mouth and invading your senses through his touch and smell.

He was to die for. Tall, muscular, charming, and older.

You looked him up and down again and as his head tilted to the side you knew exactly that he could read your every thought. His arms opened when the door closed behind the last student, one hand gliding to his inner thigh while the other motioned for you to step closer.

You did.

It was like an automatic response of your body. Though you leaned forwards on the wooden desk, your arms pushing inward to help the cleavage peeking through the collar of your top, Steve’s eyes pulled down in an instant as well. 

“It certainly was.” He rubbed his beard. “I just thought it would be beneficial to go over it once more, highlight the good parts and make sure you know what made them so... enticing.” He leaned forward now, his fingers brushing yours on the sleek surface of the polished wood, though his eyes remained on your breasts. Steve wet his lips before his eyes flicked up to yours again. “I’m willing to thoroughly talk you through the rougher bits as well.”

“Are you implying they weren’t all good?”

“Oh, they were good, just not as good as other parts.” 

It was a game. You knew that, and Steve knew that too. But the little role-playing brought an excitement to this ordeal that couldn’t be denied by either of you. He was like a magnet and your entire body felt like it was made of metal with the pull he had on you. You stood on your toes, pushing yourself further over the table, where Steve stayed entirely still. He was observing you, though. The slight intrigue in the twig of his brow when your lips came dangerously close to his. A fast glint to the double doors leading to the hallways full of students rushing to their next classes. There was no nervousness in his stare though. Steve actually liked the potential threat of getting caught. It spurred him on, enticed him, and turned him on beyond belief. You had learned that just the other week when he had dragged you behind the open door to the janitor's closet of the history building. He had absolutely no shame in getting his hands dirty while all the students walked past the dark room where Steve had his hand firmly pressed above your mouth as his other relentlessly plunged in and out of your wet cunt. 

“Huh.” You pushed back. And even though the muscular blonde on the other side of the desk tried not to react, you caught his shoulder slouch in disappointment. You liked playing tough, though. While his perfume worked hard to pull you back into him, your feet shuffled a little further back, looking him up and down again. His legs were still manspreading on the chair and damn did those thighs look inviting. You knew they were. 

The clock above the double door clicked louder now that the students outside had passed on to their next classes. You had one, too actually. But the professor was boring as hell and who wouldn’t trade a creepy scarf-wearing weirdo for this specimen of a man in front of you right now? Exactly: no one. But they didn’t have that chance. Steve had chosen you, reserved his glances and touches, and kissed for you and it was exciting. Getting to share his experiences, letting the older man take control of your body in such rough yet gentle ways. 

Your legs strode around the desk as Steve’s eyes followed you through the room. His arms had reached out to you once you were close enough for him to grab and once his index finger looped in the belt loops of your jeans, he pulled you onto his lap. As your hands wandered to his shoulders, his snook around your waist, his thumb gently stroking the skin beneath your top. A shiver ran through you when he leaned back, his icy blue orbs piercing the air as they focused on yours, a small smile twinkling in the corner of his mouth. 

“You look good.” You whispered, a hand smoothing over the collar. Steve’s lips escaped a laugh, and even though the sexual tension you build up with the sneaky conversation still lingered in the air, there was a softer, sweeter sound invading the atmosphere right this moment. 

“I know you like the blue.” He mumbled when he dipped forward, his nose brushed your neck and a trial of goosebumps traveled down your back. The rasp in his voice stirred something in your stomach, a slight tingle shooting up to your brain and telling you ‘hey that’s hot!’ In bright and blaring neon lights. 

Steve’s fingers ran down your legs and began massaging your thighs on each side of him. Another strand of hair came loose and fell forward. It tickled your neck as his mouth began to suck its way up to your sweet spot, your hands frantically cramming his shirt at the sudden attack. His tongue shot forward, soothing the place his teeth just nibbled on and the familiar burn ran over your skin as hisses and moans mixed in your mouth. Your hips jolted forward when he finally reached that spot behind your ear, hot breath blowing over the wet skin and a soft kiss right after. 

“You smell...” A growl broke through his speech when your hips ground a second time. “So sweet...” 

A jolt of confidence placed a grin on your lips. The perfume you wore had turned some heads before, but the only one that mattered was Steve’s. His mouth resumed his caress of your skin as his hand wandered to your ass, slowly pushing you forward and guiding you over the growing bulge beneath his pants. 

“Ah, yes!” It was only a breath out when the seam of your jeans was pushed into your clit by the hardness in his lap, but - God did that feel good! Your back arched when he continuously ripped you over the spot, your hands buried in his hair, pressing him deeper into your skin, encouraging him to keep going. 

“Goddamn...” His head switched to the other side of your neck, the skin on the neglected one already hot and tingly. But your sole focus lay between your legs, where his cock massaged your clit in perfectly firm rocking motions. The roughness of the jeans just added to the pleasure creeping through your body.

You could’ve gone like this forever, with the heat rising in your belly and Steve’s muffled panting lingering in the air, but Steve pulled away. A whine brushed over to him when his lips left your skin. You were burning from his touch but at the same time, a cool brush of goosebumps covered your body. It was crazy how much you craved his touch even when he was sitting right in front of you. His stare alone lit a fire within your stomach, butterflies flying wild patterns through every nerve ending when his light blue eyes found yours in the distance of the lecture hall. It had happened suddenly and spiraled beyond your control within days. And then, when he had finally kissed you, it was pretty clear that there was no going back. Steve was like a drug. Something you shouldn’t play with and something that was definitely illegal to pursue, but so so so freaking good because he made you feel things you could have never imagined. 

His voice pulled you back to reality.

“As much as I like your ass in those jeans...” Steve tugged on your Jeans with dark eyes, the silver button glimmered in the lecture hall light when his rough fingers yanked on the material. “They need to go.” That last part was just a growl in your ear but the tire of it made you eagerly wiggle out of the blue denim.

You stepped out of your jeans once he had finally opened them and when his eyes fell on the underwear covering your heat, he pulled you closer by your hips. His thumbs drove circles over your skin, sending yet another tingle of excitement up your spine. His hands wandered back to your behind, squeezing and needing the flesh all while pressing you into his front. 

Your lips attached to his neck like a magnet, your hand scraping the gruff on his chin with excited circles. A growl traveled past his lips when you reached his sweet spot - the one right beneath his ear, making him melt every time. A deviant smile spread about your face but before you could revel in the control you had over him - even if it was just for a short moment - he had you turned around, facing the rows of desks stretching to the walls.

“You’ve been doing this on purpose, haven’t you?” His hand wandered past your breasts down your front and stopped right by the edges of your panties, the other holding you by the hip, pressing his hard-on right to your back. The excitement shooting through you did nothing to hide, slick pooling between your legs, and your nipples already hard pebbles on your skin. “Putting on these scandalous little lace things thinking about how I’ll be seeing them today...” Warm breath tingled at your ear when he leaned closer, pushing his hand past the hem of the lace. “...taking them off of your perfect body.”

You moaned when his fingers slit past your folds, gathering some slick to smoothly roam about your clit.

“Maybe...” The shivers erupting from his touch interrupted your speech until you could collect yourself. “I’m always thinking of you, Stevie.” He bit your neck before his tongue smoothed over the spot again. It was a perfect interplay of pleasure and pain, the wet warm strokes of his tongue soothing the stinging and adding fuel to a desire only he could evoke in you.

“Say it again,” he growled, adding more pressure to the swollen bundle of nerves between your legs. You squirmed as the muscles in your abdomen tightened, clenching around nothing and reminding you what you had been missing. “What else are you thinking about?”

“Your hands all over my body...” Your hand guided his over to your breasts encouraging him to squeeze the soft flesh and breathing heavily when his thumb brushed over your hardened nipple. “Pushing me to bend over that desk while you fill me up with your big cock.”

“Nothing I’d rather do, doll.” Before you knew it your face was gently pressed against the cold and polished wood. Warm hands wandered to your ass where they pulled down your underwear painfully slow, having you fiddle in place impatiently.

“Now, don’t be so hasty, love. I gotta take my time.” You heard his belt unbuckle.

“Unfortunately, Professor, time is the one thing we do not have a lot of...” His hands stopped moving as you called him ‘Professor’, though you knew it wasn’t a bad thing. If anything, it probably turned him on more, which would hopefully speed up the process of him finally filling you up to the brim. Your pussy clenched at the thought of it again - a frustrating reminder of the emptiness you so wished to disappear. 

“Too bad, I would have loved to play with you a little more.”

“Tick Tock...”

“As you wish, princess-” And before the words had even reached your ears, you felt his swollen tip nudge at your entrance, stroking up and down your slit to cover in your arousal as a sinful sound escaped Steve’s lips.

His hands found their way back to your waist before he finally pushed fully into you, leaving you no time to adjust to his size as he started pounding into you with an unrelenting pace. The burn wasn’t painful though. You knew he was big, and even though you had not believed that he would ever fit inside of you, Steve had managed to not only do that but also ruin you for every other man to ever come. 

“Look at your greedy little cunt begging for my cock, practically sucking me in, doll.”

You couldn’t answer, too focused on holding onto the desk and controlling your body not to melt with his strokes as he pushed into you over and over again.

“Gripping me so tight... perfect little pussy.” A slap landed on your ass cheek to which you responded with another loud moan. If there had been a care for anyone to hear you doing the indescribable in this lecture hall before, Steve had certainly fucked it out of you by now. You turned your head watching as he spit down on his cock before it disappeared in you again, his head falling back with shut eyes while he reveled in every piece of pleasure you gave him.

“Fuck!” He locked eyes with you, a determined smirk painting his face when his hand wandered around your body again, finding your clit and rubbing tight little circles over the nub.

Your vision blurred as the hot pleasure crept up your spine. There was something about Steve’s touch that made you feel as though every nerve in your body fired twice and fast. You clenched around him again, watching with pleasure as his brows furrowed.

He picked up his pace, kicking your legs further apart and hitting an even deeper angle now.

“Oh my god!” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head before you closed them, trying to last longer than this. The feeling was just too good to let go of so soon. But with Steve’s hunky body towering over you and his cock stroking just the right spot with every moan he pulled from you, that seemed like an impossible task. You tried your best, though, but right when you thought that you would last a little longer, his fingers changed the direction of the circles on your clit and turned your brain to mush.

“I’m gonna- ah”

“The hell you are.” He pulled away, leaving you to whimper with the empty feeling you had never wanted back. But Steve pulled you up and turned you around in one swift motion, walking forward until you were pressed against the desk again. This time, though, he made you lay on your back with a hazy smile.

“I wanna see your pretty face when you come all over my cock.” He placed your legs on his shoulders and grabbed his dick to line it up with your entrance again. Then, he made sure to keep eye contact while he pushed himself into you once again, but this time, painfully slow.

You gripped him tight when he bottomed out, stroking the flesh on your thigh while he pulled back just to pound back in again.

“I fucking love this pussy,” he growled as his pace picked up much to your delight, “it’s mine. Tell me, baby.”

“Yes. Yes, it’s all yours, Stevie.” You couldn’t even focus on the words leaving your mouth at this point. You would say yes to anything he said just to make the feeling of his cock stroking your walls last forever.

“That’s a what?” He halted, raised eyebrows watching you expectantly.

“Yes, sir,” you smirked.

“Good girl.” The pressure built up again and when his hand found its way back to your clit, you felt like exploding. His pace didn’t falter, determination taking over while he watched himself slip in and out of you with hungry eyes. 

You would be busting in seconds if he kept it up like this, your walls clenching tighter and tighter, your stomach feeling rock solid from the pleasure building up with every circle of his thumb and every stroke of his cock.

“Don’t hold back now, sweetheart. Let go. Give it to me.”

That was all it took for the knot to finally come loose. “Ah!” Your back arched off the table while your hands frantically searched for something to grip, the walls of your pussy fluttering and making your core be on fire with pleasure. It just intensified when Steve slowed his strokes to let you ride on the wave of bliss that made your body tingle.

When you relaxed again, you felt your walls pulsing with lazy delight. A weak smile shining through your hooded eyes when you watched him intensify his strokes again. Shaky whimpers left your throat when his cock brushed over your sensitive parts. He was close, too. You could feel him twitching inside of you, waiting for the perfect moment to let go. And you would give him just that.

“You make me feel so good, sir. Your big cock stretches me out, fills me up. I want you to come inside of me.”

“Fuck, keep going.” He closed his eyes, speeding up his movements and making the pressure build right up for you again.

“You’re so big. I can feel you in my stomach, baby. Make me come by just thinking about you. So sexy and strong and- ah oh!”

Steve’s movements staggered his cock twitching as his face contorted into pleasure while you felt his cum spill inside of you. The scene was erotic, and the sounds coming from the man above of you made you reach another orgasm, milking the last drop from him with every pulse of your walls.

Your chest heaved as you leaned your head back, watching the clock above the door. It was too sad this moment was ending.

Though Steve took his time. He watched his juices drip after he pulled out, whispering a low ‘perfect’ into the room that made your head feel hot. 

How was this man making you flustered after shamelessly rearranging your guts in a public lecture hall?

“Put your jeans back on, doll. I don’t wanna get in trouble today.” He winked at you while he zipped up his pants and secured the buckle on top. You stood, fixing his slightly tossed hair and leaving your hand hovering over his jaw.

“Where’d you put my panties?” He kissed you.

“I think I’m gonna keep these,” Steve smiled while stuffing them into his back pocket.

“For revision, I presume?” You smiled with wicked eyes.

“Exactly.”

Here it is - finally! Please tell me what you think (hopefully it was worth the wait)! I've missed you guys so much; life is keeping me busy and excited for more. How have you been?? 💛

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