#bucky barnes x original character smut

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Temporary Custody"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky; Steve x Bucky

Word Count: 3620

Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, referenced childhood abuse and resultant mental health issues, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange

Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.

Trigger warnings: This story contains themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, childhood abuse, self-harm, and alcohol abuse.

Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter of this fic! Story Masterpost

6. Somethin' with Bananas

Steve

Steve wakes up to Bucky spooning him, pressing his morning wood against his ass. He hums with his eyes still closed, enjoying the feeling. “Mmm, g’morning.”

Hands slide onto his hips. “Mornin’ Sunshine.”

Steve smiles. “Sunshine” is one of Bucky’s favorite pet names for him. Steve is rather fond of it too, after so many years together. His husband has a knack for making him feel special like that. “What’re you doin', Buck?” he warns softly, still smiling because he likes the feeling of being explored, even if they can't take this far right now because of—

“She left for work a while ago,” Bucky murmurs, the answer to a question that Steve hasn’t asked. Alone time doesn’t happen as much as it used to, these days. "Left a bunch of baking stuff out on the counter. There's a note threatening us with mortal peril if we eat any of her bananas."

"Hmm." Steve yawns deeply and wiggles his butt back against his husband's noticeable hardon. "Whas'she makin'?"

"Dunno. Somethin' with bananas." Bucky’s hand slides to the juncture of Steve’s legs. He palms the half hard line of his cock from over his briefs, massaging the bulge as it grows. Steve moans a little and tips his head back to Bucky’s shoulder, a wordless request for kisses. Bucky starts lavishing his neck with attention while his hand continues its slow work.

Steve loves moments like this. Early morning, the sun barely out and the world quiet, the bedroom air still and thick from sleep; easy, instinctual fucking; simple and not complicated, just the two of them loving on each other. He inhales a little sharper when Bucky finally slides his hand under the waistband of his underwear. “Yeah,” he whispers.

“Mmhm.” Bucky kisses his neck. “This what you wanted, Honey?” His hand is wrapped flush around Steve now, skin on skin. He strokes once up and down and gives a squeeze, starts up a slow, tight rhythm.

“Oh.” Steve bites his lip, eyes closed as he just feels what Bucky’s doing to him. “Mm. Mmhm. S’real good.” He shivers when Bucky’s thumb swipes at his cockhead, spreading the wetness around and pressing firm against his slit. “Fuck …”

“Always were a leaker,” Bucky says lowly. “You get so wet, Honey.”

“Buck,” Steve whines. He loves Bucky’s talk in bed but he’s never been able to handle it. It turns him into a pitiful mess, every time.

Bucky

Bucky just chuckles, knowing the effect he has on him. He’s Dominant. Winding Steve around his little finger comes naturally to him, and Steve can’t say he doesn’t like it. “You were making pretty sounds in your sleep,” Bucky says, murmuring the words in between kisses on Steve’s neck. “Moaning and moving your hips a little.” He demonstrates, pushing his own hips up against Steve’s ass. Steve makes an embarrassed, whimpery sort of noise that goes straight to Bucky’s cock, and he shushes him. “Shh, no. It was hot, Stevie. You were feeling real good in your sleep, huh?”

“Y-yeah.”

“What were you dreaming about?” Bucky presses his thigh forward, between Steve’s legs, crowding him that much closer. “Hm?”

“Her,” Steve says breathily. “I … h-her.”

“Mary?” Bucky grins against the skin of his neck. “Having dirty dreams about our girl, huh?”

Steve moans—whether at Bucky calling her ‘their girl’, or at the way his other hand is now reaching down to cup Steve’s sac, isn’t clear. Bucky gives a gentle squeeze and tug, then rolls the weight of his testicles in his palm. Steve, who’s always been keen on having his balls played with, moans louder and nods against the pillow. “Didn’t mean to,” he says, as if he needs to defend his character.

Bucky grins like a shark and nips his earlobe. “Course not. You just couldn’t help it, could you? She’s always there, moaning around bites of cream filled pastries, showing off her ass in those leggings—”

Steve groans.

“—Giving us attitude every day like she wants a spanking, but dropping so sweet by the end’a the night.” He can see pink spreading around to the back of Steve’s neck and shoulders now. His Stevie colors so easily. Bucky licks delicately along the shell of his ear and whispers, “Tell me. Tell me what you did to her in the dream.” Steve moans and doesn’t answer for a long while, maybe too distracted by Bucky’s hand that’s still stroking him slowly. Bucky stills, opens his hand and presses Steve’s cock up against his stomach. “Steve,” he warns. “Tell me.”

“... Wasn’t me,” Steve mumbles, embarrassed. “It was you. You were touching her, fucking her.”

Bucky’s guts tighten in arousal. “Oh?” he breathes. “You like thinkin’ about that? Like thinking about me laying her out? Her spreading her legs for me right here on this bed?” Steve groans and nods, whining impatiently and humping forward for more. Bucky chuckles and takes him in hand again, squeezing his shaft and fondling his balls. They’re tighter now, drawn up closer to his body as he gets more worked up. “So?” Bucky needles, when he still hasn’t gotten an answer. “Is that what you want?”

“Bucky, nngh, Yes, alright?”

“Mmhm.” He chuckles softly and nuzzles Steve’s neck, enjoying his husband’s flustered state. “But you know, I think I’d like to watch you.” He can just picture it: Steve’s muscled, strong body moving over her soft curves, his big hands holding her open gently—because everything Steve does is gentle—while he makes her cum on his cock. “Yeah. You like that idea, Big guy? Me too. I wanna watch this big fat dick—” he squeezes his fist on Steve— “plowing her sloppy, making her cum so good she even cries a little bit.” Steve whines again, and Bucky hums in agreement. “Mmhm. It’d be so hot, Stevie.”

Steve squirms against him in distress. “I, I’ve never … With girls I mean. I’m not … I’ve never …” he peters off, and Bucky’s got no idea what he’s saying.

“What?” He frowns and ruts his erection against the cleft of Steve’s ass for a little relief. “What’re you talking about, Baby? You’ve been with women before. College?”

Steve shakes his head against the pillow. “No, I mean I … I don’t know what to do. To make ‘em feel good. I’m … not good at it.”

Bucky actually stops what he’s doing. Steve grunts at the lack of touch, but Bucky just hushes him and pulls on his shoulder, urging him to turn over. “Hey. C’mere. Look at me.” Steve’s face is indeed colored pink when he turns to lie facing Bucky. His eyes flick up briefly, but dart away again, shy. Bucky’s heart squeezes. “Oh, Honey,” he says, bringing a hand up to cup Steve’s jaw. “Who told you that?” He thinks of murdering whatever coed bitch might’ve made Steve feel self-conscious.

Steve looks mortified. “Nobody did. Just … I could tell. The times I was with ‘em. I couldn’t make them, you know, cum.” He looks so ashamed as he admits it, and Bucky wants to grab him and kiss all over his entire face.

“Aw, Steve,” he coos. “Is that it? You’re nervous about being with a woman again? Not confident?”

Steve nods. He tucks himself against Bucky’s body and presses his face in his neck, hiding there. “Women are hard,” he mumbles. “I like ‘em, but it’s not easy.”

Bucky chuckles a little. “Yeah, that’s for sure. But it’s not that bad, baby. You just gotta know a few basics. Gotta take it real slow and feel them out, find out what makes her feel good. Every girl’s different. That’s the beauty in it.”

Steve grunts and ruts up against him, their cocks knocking together between their bellies. “Tell me?” he asks, eager and sweet. “Please, Buck? Tell me how.”

Bucky feels like half the blood leaves his brain, his dick throbbing anew. “Fuck,” he breathes, crazy turned on at the idea. “You want me to teach you, Stevie? Teach you how to get her crying? Dripping wet? How to touch her so good you make her cum?”

Steve shivers and nods, grinding his forehead into Bucky’s shoulder in embarrassment. “Yeah, yeah I want you to. Want you to teach me.”

Bucky pulls Steve’s head up to make him look at him. His face is pinched—embarrassed but wanting. Bucky curses. “Fuck. Yeah, yeah baby I’ll teach you how. C’mere.” He moves up the bed, pulling Steve’s meaty shoulders to get him to follow, directing him to sit in his lap, back to chest as Bucky props them up against the headboard. He spreads his legs wide to accommodate Steve’s bulk, wrapping his arms around him from behind. “My little overachiever,” he murmurs. “Such a Boy Scout, always wanting to be the best you can be.”

Steve huffs. “Don’t think they gave out merits for eating pussy,” he quips, uncharacteristically lewd. 

Bucky barks out a laugh in delight. “Well pay attention, Sweetheart. You’re about to earn that badge.” Steve shudders against him, but he’s leaning back against Bucky, slumped just a little lower in his lap. He’s ready to listen, and Bucky’s fucking hot at the chance to tell. “First thing you gotta know,” he says, speaking delicately and smoothing his hands over Steve’s sides. “Is forget what you’ve seen in porn. They make that shit for us, not them. It’s all fake. No better way to make a girl miserable than to go pounding into her or whatever else.”

Steve makes a questioning noise, and God bless him, Bucky knows instantly that this is news to the big dummy. “But …” he hedges.

“No buts, Honey.” Bucky kisses his ear. “You gotta be so gentle. Always start soft, always go slow. Start that way and pay attention to her reactions.” He skims his fingertips up Steve’s ribs, tickling lightly over to his pecs and back down, making him gasp. “Yeah,” Bucky hums, “Just like that. She might be quiet at first, girls don’t moan all loud right off the bat. They don’t get worked up as fast as we do. They take time.”

Steve nods, panting a little as he listens to him. “W-what then?” he asks.

“Listen to her breathing, the sounds she makes. She’ll start breathing heavier when you’ve got her feeling good, start making little sounds without even realizing she’s doin’ it.” Steve looses a tiny whimper and Bucky grins. “Yeah, just like that.” He reaches down and finds Steve’s cock again, and god it’s sexy how wet his fella can get. He strokes him a few times, just languidly, letting the precum guide the slide of his fist. Not hurrying. Showing Steve what he means when he says ‘slow’.

“Oh,” Steve breathes, sounding gone for it.

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees. “And then when she starts moving her hips?” He presses his crotch into the small of Steve’s back. “Just rubbing herself against you or humping up in the air a little? Oh yeah, that’s when she’s into it.” He brings one hand up to cradle Steve’s pec. “Girls are more sensitive here than we are,” he tells him. He’s looking over Steve’s shoulder now, eyeing up what he’s doing. He flicks his thumb over the nipple—so freaking small and petal pink where Bucky’s are darker. And he’s so responsive, the nipple pebbling up with hardly any effort on Bucky’s part. “Mmhm,” Bucky hums approvingly. “You want to try different things. You can just hold ‘em …” he uses both hands and cups the meat of Steve’s chest, giving a proprietary squeeze. Steve moans and Bucky smiles. “Yeah. But not too hard. Treat her tits like they’re something delicate, somethin’ special.” He makes the motion to Steve’s pecs like he would do to lightly bounce a woman’s breasts in his palms. “And Mary, she’s got smaller tits. A nice, healthy handful, just like you.”

Steve whines and squirms impatiently in his lap. Bucky glances down to check, and sees Steve’s cock; abandoned on his stomach, dark, and leaking. It’s so heavy and thick, the foreskin drawn halfway down the head, showcasing the shiny pink tip of him. Bucky curses softly. Fuck, but he wants to wring an orgasm out of that cock like ten minutes ago. But he forces himself to stay the course.

“When you use your mouth on her nipples,” he whispers, voice soft like velvet in Steve’s ear, “You can lick. Or nibble a little.” He mimics each option with a stroke and then a pinch of his fingers on Steve’s nipples, flicking out with his tongue to get the shell of Steve’s ear. “But I’ll tell you what: most of ‘em like it best when you suck.” He uses all five fingertips drawn together to pull gently at the peaks of Steve’s chest, and Steve makes a hurt, wanting sound. “Yeah,” Bucky agrees. “Suck her nipples. Then fit as much of her in your mouth as you can and suck that too.” He takes pity on Steve and reaches back down for his cock. Steve cries out, and Bucky gentles him. “Shh sh sh. Remember: slow.”

Steve groans, his tight hips flexing and pushing his cock up into the curl of Bucky’s fist. “Buck, please.”

“It’s not about you,” Bucky chides. “You’re a man. You get to cum so easy and all the time. You gotta help her get there, give her what she deserves.”

Steve sobs a little, so worked up from all the teasing, but he falls back into Bucky, relaxing against his chest and laying himself open for Bucky to continue. Pride and adoration for his man well up in Bucky at the show of submission. “Good,” he praises, giving an extra indulgent twist on the next upstroke. Steve’s foreskin moves with the motions, making soft, wet noises with all the precum he’s leaking. Bucky hums appreciatively. “Yeah, lookit that.” He draws his hand all the way up, tight, and then dips his thumb into the folds, rubbing into that wetness, against the sensitive head. “If you’re doing it right, touching her enough, she’ll be wet by now,” he says. “But you still shouldn’t go for her pussy yet. Not yet.”

“What … what else?” Steve asks muzzily, like he can’t think of anything else to do that doesn’t involve his dick getting jerked off or sticking it in a hypothetical pussy.

“Tease her,” Bucky says. “Run your hands all over her body, all over her soft skin.”

Steve sighs happily. “I like how soft they are. Smooth.”

Hearing Steve talk about what he likes about women makes Bucky’s dick throb, and he grinds it against Steve’s lower back for some relief. “Mmhm,” he agrees, moving his hands up and down the skin of Steve’s ribcage, his belly, grabbing on at his hips and giving a proprietary jostle. “Dig your fingers into her, gentle but insistent. Let her feel how much you love her body.”

“Now?” Steve asks.

“Not yet,” Bucky whispers.

“Fuck. Bucky.”

“Tease her,” he insists, ignoring Steve’s pleading. He slides his hands down Steve’s thighs and inwards, pulling them apart. Steve moans and spreads them wide. “Exactly,” Bucky says. “You want to touch her here. Run your hands all over, so close to where she wants it. Remember, if you’ve been doing this right, she’ll be wet by now.” He goes back and strokes the wetness along Steve’s shaft. “Sink down between her legs and kiss her thighs—you’ll smell it.”

“Oh my god.”

Bucky smiles, in love with his husband for how easily he comes apart under his care. He traces down to the base of Steve’s cock, making a vee with two fingers and rubbing the skin on either side. “Put pressure on her mound, really close but not touching where she wants it. Not yet.” His other hand slides down and delicately traces the seam of Steve’s sac. “Tease her, trace her folds. Get a little bit of that wetness and rub it around to make her even more sensitive. And then …” He blows gently on Steve’s ear. Steve moans. “Just like that. You want to wait. Don’t give her your mouth until she’s whining and shovin’ up at you for it.”

“Nngh,”

Bucky chuckles and circles the wet pad of his finger over one testicle and then the other. He nudges at Steve’s taut sac and whispers in his ear. “Push her lips apart.”

Steve is breathing hard through his nose, tense, his dick bobbing rock hard and angry in the air. Bucky has mercy on him and reaches for it, and Steve chokes out a sob of relief at only the slightest touch.

Bucky kisses his temple soothingly. “Shh. Here. Riiight here.” He holds the head between his thumb and fingers and starts jacking just the tip of him, foreskin tugging and gliding in that way that he knows feels amazing for Steve. “Right above her sweet spot, see? You rub on her like this, up and down, back and forth. Work the hood over her clit juuust like this.”

Steve makes a debased groan at the echo of what Bucky’s saying, and how he’s working Steve’s foreskin over the head of his dick. “Fuck, fuck,” he hisses.

“Yeah, you’re close. She’s soaked by now. You think it’s time to give her more?”

“Bucky. Yes, yes, please.” His hips are straining upwards but he lets his head loll back on Bucky’s shoulder, open for what he’ll do next. “Please,” he begs.

“Now this is important, baby, so pay attention,” Bucky says. “Some women like a mouth on ‘em down there, some don’t. Some do, but they have a hang up over how they think they look or taste or something.” Steve makes a sad noise at that, matching Bucky’s opinion that: yeah, women shouldn’t worry so much. Pussy is just generally fucking awesome. “Tell her how much you love it,” he says. “The taste of her, the shape of her lips. Make her feel pretty and wanted.” He’s fondling Steve’s balls anew as he says this, rubbing and rolling them, then cupping his whole palm over them and dipping behind to dig fingertips into his taint. “Come on, Stevie,” he goads, “Let me hear it. Tell me what you’d say.”

It takes Steve a few tries before he can pull enough of his brain out of his dick to rasp, “S’fucking gorgeous p-pussy. So … so wet. Can I lick it Honey, huh? Please lemme lick it. Wanna taste that sweet cunt.”

Bucky gasps, shocked and delighted at Steve’s dirty talk. “Oh, Stevie,” he groans. “Baby. Fuck, yes. I didn’t know you had it in you.” He wraps his hand fully around Steve’s cock and starts jerking him off fast, fast enough that it’s obvious he’s finally aiming to make Steve cum, and Steve chokes on a relieved heave of breath. 

"Yes! Oh, thank you!”

Bucky attacks Steve’s neck with his mouth, biting and smearing spit and scraping his teeth over the wet skin. He growls as he watches his fist working furiously over Steve's red, hard dick. “Suck her clit while you fuck her on your fingers,” he rasps. “Tell her she’s a good girl, tell her to ride your face, grind down on your hand. Make sure she knows she’s allowed to let go.”

Steve cries out, guttural and loud like he always gets when his pleasure is cresting. “Bucky, Buck. Honey, oh. F-fuck, m’close.”

“Mmhm. Thaat’s it, Princess,” he says, pitching his voice just so and using that name so that Steve knows. Knows he’s talking to her.

Steve whines, his whole body tight and straining into Bucky’s grip.

“Curl your fucking fingers in her,” Bucky growls. “She’s close. Don’t slow down. Don’t even speed up. She likes what you’re doing now, so don’t you dare fucking change a thing.”

“Bucky!”

“That’s it, Princess, just like that. You’re almost there.”

“Fuck, fuck … ssshit …”

“Ride Daddy’s hand, fuck back on it. Good girl.”

Steve jerks and shouts, cock pulsing in telltale contractions, before searing ropes of come shoot up his stomach and all over Bucky’s hand. “Oh, oh, oh!” He grunts through it with gorgeous sounds, and Bucky’s so in love with the sight of it that he’s not roleplaying anymore when he purrs, “Fucking beautiful, Sweetheart.”

Steve slumps when it’s over, still panting from the pleasure. Bucky eases off, sets his wet and slowly softening dick gently against his stomach. He moves them, guiding Steve to turn over and lie out on his front. He shoves Steve’s legs together and straddles them, swipes his hand that’s covered in Steve’s release into the tight space between his thighs, wetting him up. He growls viciously, pent up and rock hard and ready to fucking cum. He ruts into the wet clench of Steve’s thick thighs, fucking him like he’s got a loose, easy cunt. “Fuck, baby,” he grits, close within a matter of minutes. He chases his orgasm and collapses onto Steve’s broad back when it hits, grinding in hard one last time and shouting loud and guttural with how goddamn good it feels. “Fuck! Ughn, f-ffuuck.” 

He comes down heaving, panting against Steve’s skin. Steve is strong enough that he can roll out from under his weight, and he pulls Bucky into his arms and draws his head onto his chest. Bucky goes gratefully, happy to have Steve’s firm pecs as a pillow. “God, honey,” he breathes, wrung out. Steve makes a noise of agreement. They just lie there together, sweaty and spent, catching their breath for a long time.

“... Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“… You’re a good teacher.”

Bucky laughs and crawls up to kiss Steve on the mouth. “Yeah,” he says when they part. “But that wasn’t even the main event.” Steve looks confused for a second, before Bucky slyly clarifies: “You still gotta fuck her. And you know you want to make her cum at least twice.”

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

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[imawreck]

Project G.H.O.S.T. Masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier x Original Character

Summary: Bucky finds out he isn't the only Super Soldier left... that Hydra had created something worse. Based loosely on some phases of the mcu.

Warnings: This story contains a lot of dark subjects, gore, betrayal, and drama. So, readers be warned! Every chapter will have brief warnings, so be sure to read those if you're sensitive to certain subjects. Read at your own risk!

Author's Note: You have started a dark path, my friend, and you may hate me by the end of it but you're too far in to give up now >:)

Unknown

Cargo

Holding Cell

Interrogation

Experiments

Pancakes

Shopping Trip

Poetry

Perfect Soldier

Amends

Game Night

Warning

Memory

Wild Card

Mission

Killer

Demands

Pulling Teeth

Sweater Weather

Breakfast

Dress Up

Carnival

Dinner Date

Trigger

Consequences

Nightmare

Ballroom

Massacre

Monster

Fights

Changes

Lightsabers

Trap

Innocent

Unsaid Goodbyes

Torture

Loop

Present

Status: Active

Lead

Copycat

Escape

Revenge

Soldat (Coming Soon)

[avengerscompound]

The Tower - Under the Table

The Tower - Under the Table

Series Masterlist

Pairing:  Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 4585

Warnings:  smut (ten personal bixexual orgy, oral sex, vaginal fingering, anal sex, some use of powers, blindfolds)

Synopsis:  It’s Elly’s birthday, and after dinner the group have their own special kind of party game, one where they find out how well they know each other, and who can keep a good poker face.

Author’s Note:  Long time no update! I’ve been writing really slow at the moment.  But I am still doing these if you have requests.  This one was Requested by bubsanddoll21 on Wattpad. You can send in your requests too.

Takes place between The Tower and The Holiday Special

Under the Table

In the early days of my relationship with the Avengers, it was a rare event that all of us had a meal together at a table.  Ten people at a table felt more like a dinner party than a date.  Sitting around on the couches just felt more familiar and comfortable. So when we did sit down to eat, it was a special occasion.

This one was my birthday.

The others had wanted to do something special, so they decorated the conference room and Bucky, Sam, and Wanda had cooked a large meal.  It was nice and at the point where most of us had finished eating, Tony leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head.  “We should have brought some games up with us,” he said.  “I could go a few rounds of Cards Against Humanity right now.”

“I could go down and get something,” Steve offered.

“You’re still eating, Steve,” Wanda said.  “Someone else can go.”

“Or!” Clint said, waggling his eyebrows.  “Or… we could play a different kind of game.”

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re not talking about charades?” Sam asked.

“Because you know me too well, Sammy,” Clint said.  “I saw this thing…”

“What have I told you about watching that stuff on the company wifi?” Tony scolded.

Clint smirked at him.  “To invite you along when I do,” he teased and stuck his tongue out at Tony.  “Anyway, as I was saying; I saw this thing.  Someone gets under the table and starts going down on someone.  And if the person getting blown or eating out gives it away that it’s happening to them, they have to go under the table.  And if someone guesses the wrong person, it’s them.  Like a Blow Job Roulette.”

“Okay, that sounds fun,” I said.  “Can we?” 

There was a murmur around the table, and one by one everyone agreed it sounded like it could be fun.

“Birthday girl goes first,” Sam said.

“Shouldn’t I be the one that gets eaten out first?” I countered. 

“But then we’d all know it was you, and you’d just end up under the table,” Sam argued.  “You might as well start down there.”

I laughed.  The logic was flawed, but I figured it was as good a place as any.  “Alright, pants off everyone,” I said, slipping off my chair onto my knees under the table.  Everyone shuffled around, some of them just opening their pants and pulling their cocks out, while others stood and pushed their pants all the way down.  Wanda and Natasha were both wearing skirts, so they just took off their panties and hoisted up their skirts.  It was quite a sight under the table.  Nine people all around me, pants down, and legs spread.  Some of the men were already half-hard.  I looked around, picking my target.

Of all the members of the group, Wanda was calling to me the most.  She was wearing thigh-high black socks, heeled boots, and a black skirt that was bunched up.  Her legs were spread and the little thatch of pubic hair glistened invitingly.

I crawled over to her, putting my hands on her thighs.  She tensed and I ducked my head forward, licking up her slit.  I wondered what she looked like right now.  How she was hiding what was happening.  If she was hiding it.  From where I was, it seemed so obvious.  Her muscles had clenched and she’d tilted her hips forward.  I could even feel a slight shake in her thighs.  I couldn’t imagine it not being totally obvious from above the table, but if she was, no one had said anything yet.

I pushed my tongue inside her and flicked it up over her clit, painting little shapes over it.  She squirmed and her cunt flooded, and as the tart, musky flavor of her slick filled my mouth, Bucky, Tony, and Clint all called out at once. “Wanda!”

“No fair!” Wanda whined as I pulled away.

“That’s the game, Wanda,” Sam said.  “Now under the table.”

I crawled out and wriggled out of my pants as Wanda climbed in under the table.  I sat down and nothing seemed to happen for a while.  I could hear Wanda moving under the table for a moment, and then after that, it was just the sounds of people picking at the last of the food and random conversation in the group.

All of a sudden Clint yelped and practically rocketed up off his chair. “Wanda!” he scolded.  “No powers!”

She got up giggling as everyone burst out laughing.  “Did someone get invaded by some pink light?” Tony teased.

“That’s one way to put it,” Clint said as he climbed under the table.

It took a really long time before the next person became clear.  I was studying everyone very closely, and the only thing that had me wondering was the slightly bored looks in the eyes of Natasha and Tony.  Which made me think it was more likely Tony as he usually dominated the conversation.  It wasn’t until his brow furrowed and he moved his hand under the table that I knew for sure it was him.

“Tony!” I yelled, pointing at him.  “It’s you!”

“Ah, shit,” Tony said, reaching under the table with both hands and began to rut his hips.  “Wait, Clint, I’m nearly done.”

“Hey now,” Steve said.  “You can wait like the rest of us.”

Clint made a choked sound and stumbled out from under the table, his eyes watering, and he wiped his mouth.  “Jesus,” he cursed.  “Tony was a terrible choice.”

“Oh, baby,” Tony said, as he smoothed down his shirt.  “The amount of calls I’ve taken while I’ve been balls deep in someone.”

“Alright, alright, get under the table smart ass,” Steve said.

Tony laughed as he climbed under, and I decided on a completely different strategy.  I glanced around the table, trying to see if anyone had given it away, but at the same time, I tensed my hands and took in a shaky breath.

“Elly!” Clint, Steve, Natasha, and Sam all said at once.

“No!” I shouted and Bruce groaned. “It’s Bruce!”

“You little…!” Natasha scolded.  “That was evil!”

Tony had broken down into laughter under the table and he crawled his way out.  “That was awesome,” he said.  “Now what?  Do all of you have to get under the table?”

“Might I suggest that we alter the game?” Thor asked.  “Perhaps, rather than all of us trying to work out who is being pleasured, Lady Elise should be blindfolded and have to work out which of her lovers is pleasuring her.”

“I think that sounds like a fantastic idea,” Natasha said.  “If she can guess, then they can make her come.  If not, she just gets edged.”

“What do you think of that, Elise?” Steve asked.

I nodded enthusiastically.  “Yes, please. It is my birthday after all.”

“We might need lube and something to blindfold El with,” Sam said.  “I mean - if we’re going to have real fun that is.”

Wanda lifted her loop scarf off over her head, and Tony, Clint, Natasha, and Thor all fished in their pockets and pulled out lube.  What was funny was none of them had the same kind of lube.  Tony had the warming gel kind, Clint’s was espresso flavored, Natasha’s doubled as a massage gel, and Thor’s was an oil he’d brought from Asgard and came in a delicate-looking, hand-blown glass bottle.

Steve and Wanda approached me as the others started clearing the table.  “Let’s get you ready, Elise,” Steve said.

Steve lifted my shirt off over my head and Wanda unfastened my bra.  I let the fabric slip down my arms and Steve tossed both it and my bra aside.  Wanda kissed me softly and then wrapped the scarf around the top of my head, obscuring my vision.  When it was in place properly, and I had assured them I couldn’t see anything, Steve lifted me and put me on the table.

I lay back and lifted my legs, spreading them and resting my feet at the edge of the table.  They made me wait a moment, and while I waited, they were clearly not keeping their hands to themselves.  There were moans and the soft wet sounds of kissing around me, which only made that wait worse.

My thighs were trembling by the time someone touched me.  Right away I knew it was one of the guys and not Natasha or Wanda, and given the fact that he touched me with both hands, and they were both flesh, I knew it wasn’t Bucky either.

There was no preamble. Whoever it was just lunged in and began to lap up the length of the slit.  They didn’t even try spreading me with their fingers, rather their tongue pushed between my folds and just got to work.  I could feel the scratch of their beard.  Yet, even without that, they were very skilled with their tongue.  It started wide, sweeping up from my entrance to my clit, and then began to focus on the little but, sending little jolts through me.  I didn’t even need the extra sensation of their long hair tickling the insides of my thighs, I knew it was Thor.  The size of his hands, the beard, and the technique all screamed the god of thunder to me.

“Mmm… Thor,” I moaned, lifting my hips to meet his mouth.

A deep booming chuckle sounded between my legs and Thor sent a jolt of electricity right through my clit making my body jerk up hard.  I nearly came just from that.

“How do you even do that?” Tony laughed. “You are too good at this game.”

“You gotta make me come now,” I said breathlessly, reaching down to tangle my hands into Thor’s hair.

“Don’t worry, lover.  I will,” Thor said.

He was good to his word.  He pulled my clit between his lips and began to flick his tongue over it.  Every now and again, he’d send another spark into it, that made my core muscles clench completely out of my control.  It brought me careening to the edge very quickly and the fourth time he did it, the dam burst and I came, arching up hard off the table as my orgasm crashed through me.

“Fucking hell!” I cried out.

“Damn, Thor,” Sam said.  “That had to be some kind of record.”

“I am a god, Samuel,” Thor bragged.

There was only a short wait for the next person to move up.  It was another one of the men and once again, clearly not Bucky.  This person was much more tentative than Thor, spreading my folds with his fingers, and slowly swirling his tongue over them.   He was tender and methodical, and it sent a warm buzz through me, oozing out like honey on tiles.  There was no beard, and the very faint tickle of the hair on his head on my thighs.

“Bruce,” I moaned, arching my back and lifting one leg so it was draped over his shoulder.

“What the fuck?” Tony cursed.  “You’re gonna be having so many orgasms tonight.”

“I know you all too well,” I moaned.  “Gonna have to mess up on purpose so I don’t die.”

“Let’s see how you go,” Bruce said and eased two fingers inside me.

Bruce was slower and more methodical about things than Thor, at least initially.  He pushed his fingers in deep, touching my g-spot and then stroking over it.  As he did, he pulled my clit between his lips and flicked his tongue over it.  The louder I moaned the rougher he got, so it wasn’t long before he’d gone from careful and slow, to rough and fast.  His fingers hammered into my g-spot, over and over, sending sharp jolts right through me, making it so I couldn’t think straight.  Beside me, someone had started having sex, and from the sounds of it, it’d be a while before Clint was down between my legs.

My orgasm peaked and Bruce pushed his fingers against my g-spot and twisted his wrist, and I came, my back arching off the table as I cried out, shuddering with it.

Bruce hummed and pulled away. “Mmm… I love seeing you come,” he hummed, leaning down to kiss me.

I sucked my slick from his lips and he pulled away, running his hand down my stomach and patting my pussy before pulling away.  I didn’t have to wait very long before the next person to take their place.  Right away I could tell it was one of the women, which narrowed the choice down to two.  I almost wanted to just take a shot in the dark and really freak them out.  I didn’t even need to though, the slow tease of her fingers up my thighs, and the way she ran her nails over my hips as she leaned in, I knew right away it was Natasha.  Not because she always touched me like that, but just that it was uniquely her.

“Natasha!” I said quickly.

She cursed in Russian and Tony burst out laughing, while at least two other people applauded me.  I would have taken a bow if I wasn’t flat on my back.  “That’s my girl,” Natasha praised and got to work.

Her nimble fingers pushed inside me and immediately pushed against my g-spot. I gasped and bucked up hard against her, but she just pushed my hips back down and continued doing it.  She countered the intense pressure of her fingers against that sweet spot inside me with her tongue on my clit.  It was intense.  I couldn’t focus.  Lights popped behind my eyes and each time I tried to say something all that came out was an animalistic cry.

When I came, I gushed, spraying Natasha with my juices as I arched hard on the table.  It was so intense, it knocked every conscious thought out of my head and I just oozed down onto the table, breathing heavily, completely forgetting that there were still six more people to go.

“Well done, Mishka,” Natasha praised.“I hope you have more in you.”

I wasn’t so sure.  In fact, when the next person stepped up, it took me a moment to realize there was even someone there.  Their tongue was lapping up and down my folds before I was truly aware enough to remember I was supposed to be playing a game.

The way they lapped their tongue was almost soothing after the intensity of the last orgasm I had.  There was a scratch of beard on my skin, but my foggy head made it hard to think about which beard it could be.

Finally, it clicked into place.  No metal hand.  That cut out Bucky.  Clint and Steve were both clean-shaven.  Which just left Tony and Sam.  I was sure that Tony would want to torture me after what happened and he wouldn’t be going easy on me at all. “Sam…” I moaned, the sounds completely breathless.

“We should never have doubted you,” Thor said.  “This is truly impressive.”

“Are you sure you’re not peeking?” Clint asked.

“Just know you all,” I argued in that same breathless moan.

Sam pulled back and a moment later there was the press of his cock against my cunt. “Let’s make you come a different way,” Sam said.

He lifted my legs so they were up against his chest and he pushed into me.  As he started to thrust into me, I gripped the edge of the table to hold myself steady. “Oh fuck,” I moaned.  I was so sensitive and overworked, that I knew the next six orgasms would happen really fast.  I was going to be completely over-stimulated by the time we were done.

Sam slid his hands down my thighs and onto my cunt, and he began to rub my clit in tight circles. I mewled, arching my back and clenching tight around his shaft.  “Oh god, Sam.  Please…”  I didn’t even know what I was pleading for.  I just knew I needed something.  More, harder, slow down, be gentle.  Or maybe just to stop.

His thumb kept rubbing in tight circles on my clit and thrusting in fast and deep, and very quickly I was brought spiraling to the edge once more.  He pinched my clit and I went toppling over, crying out and clenching my teeth as all my muscles clenched up at once.

“Good girl,” Sam praised.  “There we go.”

He slipped out of me and I let my legs fall on the table.  “You still okay?” he asked.

I nodded and made an incoherent sound.  He caressed my cheek and ran his thumb over my bottom lips.  “Elise, are you sure?”

I nodded again.  “Yeah.  I can do this.”

He stepped away and the next hand touched me. Just the right hand, and it slid up my legs and when it reached the apex of my thigh, the thumb ran up and down my slit.  Someone might have been just trying to mess with me, but I didn’t think so, and when the person crouched and their long hair teased the inside of my thighs it confirmed it.  “Bucky,” I said.

He laughed. “Damn it.  I was trying not to give it away.”

“That’s what gave it away,” I said.

“Alright, alright, let’s make you come then,” he said, sounding a lot like he was pouting.

He didn’t even bother to try and go down on me.  He just pushed my legs up against my body, lined his cock up to my cunt, and shoved in deep.  I gasped as he bottomed out and I felt the sharp sting of the head of his cock hitting my cervix.  “Bucky,” I whined.

“Sorry, honey,” he said, backing off a bit.  He smoothed his hands down my thighs and began to thrust.

I reached up, grabbing his wrists as he thrust into me and I wrapped my legs around his waist, drawing him in as tightly as I could.  “Bucky,” I moaned.  “Kiss me.”

He wrapped his right arm around my waist and lifted me, so I was sitting on the edge of the table and the cool metal of his thumb brushed over my lips.  I parted them, leaning forward as I wrapped my arms around him and pushed my hands into his hair.

He kissed me, his tongue pushing into my mouth.  I flicked my tongue forward to meet his and they danced together.  Bucky kept thrusting into me and I rolled my hips to meet him.  As worked up as I was, I knew I wouldn’t last, but the way this orgasm built felt so different from the past four.  It wound around me like a warm blanket.  I was engulfed by it, cocooned completely.  It heated me from the inside and yet I trembled in Bucky’s arms.  He held me close, thrusting in deep and kissing me with a passionate intensity that took my breath away.

When my orgasm washed over me, I threw my head back and clenched tight around me.  “Oh god, Bucky,” I moaned.

Bucky’s hips stuttered and he groaned loudly, burying his head in my neck. “Fuck, Elly,” he groaned, suddenly jerking forward and coming inside me.

“Bucky Barnes, you dirty dog,” Clint scolded.  “Leaving a mess in there for us to clean up.”

I swatted lazily in Clint’s direction as Bucky started laughing. “Oh like you’re not looking forward to that.”

He pulled out of me and I lay back with a groan.  It wasn’t long before someone else was between my legs.  They lifted them and spread them wide and then did something that gave them away immediately.  They laughed.

“What’s so funny, Tony?” I asked.

“Ah fuck,” he said. “Didn’t even get a chance to trick you.  I just had plans to go to town on you.”

“Mean,” he said, reaching for him.  “Go on, you gotta give me my prize.”

“Alright, alright,” he said and pushed his cock up against my cunt.  “It’s coming and so will you be.”

I laughed, but it was cut short as he shoved inside of me.  He thrust in so hard it nearly knocked the wind from me.  I cried out and reached above my head.  Someone grabbed my hand and I held onto them as Tony began to thrust into me.

He didn’t go easy on me the way Bucky had.  He grabbed my legs, held me in place, and just railed into me.  “Fuck… fuck… fuck…” I babbled as I was jolted on the table.  My fingers tightened around whoever’s hand I was holding.  It felt like this orgasm was being hammered into me.  Each thrust of Tony’s hips just made it build more and more until I was ready to burst.

It hit me hard, lights popped behind my eyes and I cried out, my hips bucking and my body writhing under him.  “Oh fuck yes, Tony!” I mewled.

Tony kept thrusting, fucking me through my orgasm, and with a shudder he came too, moaning as he did.  “There you go, Legolas,” Tony teased as he held me in place.

He leaned down and kissed me as he pulled out, and stepped away.  A lay on the table breathing heavily, waiting for the next person the move up.

I didn’t have to wait long, and once again, I knew who it was as soon as their hands were on my skin.

“Wanda,” I said.

She giggled.  “I knew there was no point trying to trick you.  But lucky you, now you get your prize.”

She took her hands off me completely and just as I wondered what she was doing, the warm tingle of her powers touched on my feet and began to wind their way up my leg.  It was slow going, and it didn’t settle on my cunt right away, rather, it wrapped its way right around me, making my whole body buzz and tingle.

I whined, squirming on the table.  I was still holding someone’s hand, and I gripped it tighter, trying to tether myself to something real.

“Please, Wanda,” I whined, bucking my hips.

She giggled again, but things started to get more focused.  It swirled around my nipples, tugging on them, and began to buzz against my clit. I moaned, arching my back and the pressure increased.  Every moan I made made her increase the pressure of her powers on me.  My nipples hardened almost painfully and a hot current ran right through me from my clit.  I was dripping on the table as my cunt clenched around nothing.

It started to feel like some kind of torture.  I was so close, and yet she was keeping me hovering there right at the edge.  “Please.  Please, Wanda.  I need … I need…”

“Yes, Elly?” she asked.

“I need to come,” I wailed.

A jolt shot through me, and just like that, I came, arching hard off the table, and screaming as my orgasm rocked through me, making me gush onto the table.  It was the most intense orgasm yet, and for a moment everything went black.

When the world returned, I was panting heavily, completely dazed as I rode out the extreme orgasm high.

“Holy shit, Wanda,” Natasha cursed.  “That was impressive.”

“Two more left, El,” Steve said.  “You sure you’ve got them in you?”

I nodded slowly.  “Think so.”

Someone moved up and skimmed the back of their fingers up the insides of my thighs.  It was a Clint trick, but not out of Steve’s playbook. Whoever it was leaned in, ghosting his lips up the insides of my soaked thighs.  His fingers moved to my cunt, spreading it with his fingers and running his tongue up my slit.  There was no beard, but both Clint and Steve were currently clean-shaven, so that didn’t give it away.  I really had no idea who was touching me.

I lifted my feet, put them on his shoulders, and flexed my toes.  Whoever it was was broad-shouldered and muscular.  That didn’t exactly narrow it down either.  And just because Steve was broader than Clint, I chose him.

“Steve?” I asked.

“You sure about that, darlin’?” Bucky asked. 

“No… but it’s my guess,” I moaned.

Some of the group started clapping.  “Well done, that’s all of you.  How about Clint and Steve make you come together, so you only have to do one more?” Sam suggested.

I nodded emphatically.  “Please.”

Steve moved forward, the thick head of his cock pressing against my cunt.  I raised my hips to meet him, wrapping my legs around his waist and pulling him closer to me.  He pulled back just a little and with a snap of his hips, he sunk in deep.

I gasped and arched my back.  As I did, Clint moved up beside me on the table and began to flick his tongue over my clit and play with my breast.  The table was jostled beside us and Clint grunted and let out a moan.

“Who’s fucking Clint?” I moaned.

“That’d be me, honey,” Sam replied.  “You want to see?”

I nodded.  “Please.”

The blindfold was taken off as Steve continued to thrust into me.  I blinked at the light and looked around, Taking everything in.  Steve was between my legs, holding me in place, his brow furrowed as he fucked me.  Clint was half propped on the table, bent over me, licking at my clit and that base of Steve’s cock.  Sam was behind him, one hand braced on Clint’s shoulder and the other on his hip as he thrust into him, jostling him against me.  The others were spaced around the table.  Most just watching.  Thor was the one holding my hand, though Wanda was bouncing in his lap, her eyes glowing pink.

Everyone else was just kissing and holding each other as they watched Clint and Steve bring on my final orgasm.  Seeing them just added to my pleasure, bringing me closer and closer to the edge.

I relaxed back, just letting the pleasure wash over me, It encompassed me completely.  But in the end, it wasn’t either Steve or Clint that set my orgasm off, it was Wanda’s orgasm.

She cried out and her powers burst out of her and I was hit by a sudden, intense wave of her pleasure.  I came hard, all my muscles clenching at once making me arch violently off the table.  I cried out and my vision blacked out for a moment.  Wanda’s orgasm must have affected the others too.  Steve groaned and gripped my hips hard shoving into me and coming deep inside me.  Sam’s hips bucked and his head fell back as his hit too, and Clint suddenly arched like a cat and came in thick ropes onto the table.

I fell back breathing heavily as I rode the waves of my orgasm.  Steve hunched over me panting and Clint slithered down and lay there with his head on my stomach.

That’s how we stayed for a while and then Natasha stood.  “Okay.  How about we clean up here and head downstairs?  I think it’s time for a soak in the hot tub.” 

Steve sighed contentedly and slipped out of me.   He pulled up his pants and then picked me up, cradling me against him. “Good birthday?” he asked.

I hummed, snuggling against his chest and closing his eyes as I murmured my reply. “The best.”

~ END ~

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Random Thoughts: Bucky Barnes

The Metal Arm

Contrary to what most people think Bucky actually loves it when his girl touches his metal arm.

It’s one of his biggest insecurities to be sure, he has a bad relationship with it (as one would imagine) but he enjoys it when his girl enjoys it, and that’s the only time he likes it.

On hot nights when no matter how much he turns up the AC for you, you’re still hot, your period giving you hot flashes that you believe are going to be the death of you, you wrap your entire upper body around the cool metal that never seems to change temperature and you finally drift off to sleep. After a night drinking with the girls, Natasha and Pepper dropping you back off at your shared apartment clearly able to hold much more liquor than you (though Bucky notices how Pepper often ends up leaning against the assassin as well before going home) your entire body is hot and you will always strip completely bare to fix the problem. It often leaves Bucky with his own problem that he needs to take care of as he refuses to touch you when you’ve had more than 3 drinks, but once he does and he crawls into bed your body finds its way around the chilled metal and you pass out clinging to him like a baby gorilla attached to its mother.

It makes Bucky feel useful

Like the metal arm can actually do something good for once

Bucky however, hates touching you with it.

If you don’t instigate the contact then he will never let the vibranium touch your perfect skin. He knows that you insist it’s okay, and that you love it but he doesn’t love it. He knows how much you enjoy the metal fingers wrapped around your throat on those nights that you want him to be particularly rough with you and while he will always give you what you want, it scares him to see something that’s brought so much pain to people wrapped around your delicate, perfect throat.

Slowly but surely you are helping him learn to enjoy the prosthetic in some way, even if it takes a while to get there. You are nothing if not patient and that’s one of the things Bucky loves the most about you, he needs patience from people more than anything as he acclimates to living life in this century as a normal person and you know and respect that completely.

He has learned to like you holding his metal hand as well. That one took the longest, he was always afraid of breaking your fingers if he so much as twitched but you let him know he was over reacting just a bit and took your time helping him get used to it. The feeling that he has in the fake limb (which isn’t as much as a real arm but was at least some kind of sensation) was enough that he enjoyed holding your smaller hand in his own, often bringing it to his lips to kiss your skin and sneakily checking to ensure he had not bruised your soft flesh.

The arm has always been an issue for the super soldier and probably always would be in some form, but he can say you’ve helped him enjoy it at least a little bit. He is now seeing some small perks of it which is helping him live with it just a bit more comfortably and that’s all you could ever ask for. And you’re all Bucky could ever ask for.

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Random Thoughts

[ronearoundblindly]

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Romance 🔥 || Smut 🦆 || Author Fave 🍀 || Angst ⛈️ || Fluff 🌼 || Dark Fic 🌘 || *** denotes work for all ages

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist]

Bucky x Reader --

Bath 🌼🔥🦆

Noise 🌼🔥🦆

Fear 🔥⛈️🦆

Clean 🌼🔥🦆

A Long Walk In Winter *** 🌼🔥

A Casual Kiss *** 🌼🔥

A Kiss As Encouragement 🌼🔥

Bucky x OC --

The Stark Legacy (Masterlist)🍀

Ao3 Series: Bucky x Stark's Daughter from an Alternate Timeline to Endgame (epic action/adventure with minor romance)

SAMBUCKY --

Alternate Moves *** 🔥⛈️🌼

When You Wake, Love, I’ll Be There *** 🔥⛈️🌼

What Was Said, We Said For Good *** 🔥⛈️

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[sjsmith56]

Mr. Barnes Seizes the Day

Summary - AU one shot. Mr. Barnes, a bachelor grammar school principal romances a spinster teacher on his staff, after receiving his orders to report for duty in WW II.

Length: 6.5 K

Characters: James Barnes, named OFC.

Warnings: lack of confidence, fear of rejection, no smut although it is implied.

Author notes: Was going to wait on posting this but these recent pictures brought up an idea for a story. Other writers may see him as a mobster, but in this AU I see him as an unmarried school principal contemplating his life choices and deciding to do something about it.  Carpe diem is Latin, translated often to "seize the day." Images of Sebastian Stan by @popeofthebowery. 

Brooklyn, January 1943

He looked in the mirror as he did his tie, the same colour tie he had worn every school day for 18 years.  It had always been a black tie with a white shirt, a black sweater vest, and black suit, black shoes; his current uniform, soon to be replaced by a pink and green one.  The new uniform would actually be a dark olive drab jacket over a lighter shade drab for the trousers but he had it on good authority that the officers in the army called them pinks and greens.  It was going to be quite the change for the 40-year-old bachelor. 

James Barnes looked once again at the orders he received in the mail yesterday, to report for basic training, followed by officer school.  After all the years of being regarded as too soft to be anything but a teacher, Mrs. Barnes only son Bucky was going to war.  Not that the staff at the school knew him as Bucky.  To them, he was always Mr. Barnes, a quiet, bearded, unmarried man who seemed destined to always be alone.  After Ma died, he had been just that as his sisters were busy with their own families.  Well, at least with him being in the army, he would be going somewhere, doing something, instead of just being the principal at a grammar school in Brooklyn.  He sighed.  Maybe, just maybe he could get past his usual introverted nature and go out with a woman before he left.  Perhaps he could even finally get up the nerve to ask Miss Heathcott to dinner, or at least a walk in the park.  It had only been 12 years since she first joined the staff at the grammar school.  He really should have asked her out then when he was still a young man and had more to offer than the confirmed bachelor he now was.  How she was still unmarried was beyond him but maybe she was waiting for the right man.

He combed his hair into its usual place, put his vest on and went to the window, just like he did every weekday morning to see the weather, confirming that it looked like another grey winter day.  He turned around, taking in his two-bedroom apartment, his haven after a busy day dealing with the stress of running a school.  The bookcases full of his favourite titles, the gramophone, and records of the jazz music he loved, were his escape from his loneliness.  It suddenly bothered him that it would all be sitting here, unused unless he could find someone to sublet it to, someone who would look after it for him so that when he returned, he could live the quiet life again in his personal haven.

After his usual breakfast of two boiled eggs, toast and coffee, Mr. Barnes washed up the dishes, brushed his teeth, put his jacket on, then his overcoat, and his hat, ready for the brief walk to the subway station.  When he got there a lineup awaited him.  Now that gasoline and rubber were rationed, many people had to put their cars up on blocks and switch to public transportation.  It had made commuting longer and more crowded.  He stood in the packed train car, holding onto the strap that hung down from the top bar, trying to keep a respectable distance from the women who had joined the work force since the men were called to war.  At his stop, several others got off, going their different ways after leaving the station.  It was only a few minutes walk to the school, and he fished his master keys out.  Only he and the head custodian had them.  Mr. Barnes usually unlocked the school in the morning, Mr. Santucci locked it up at night.  He turned on the lights from the master electrical panel, then entered his office, taking his overcoat off.  Checking the thermostat, he made sure it read 72°, so that it would be warm for the children by the time they got there.  Then he started up the coffee urn in the staff room, before unlocking the staff door, knowing that they would start arriving within the next quarter hour.  It was all part of his usual morning routine, and it suddenly struck him how much he was stuck in that rut of duty, habit, and dullness.  Leaning against an empty wall he wondered what he had become.

He was still standing in the staff room, waiting for the coffee to finish percolating, so he could empty the used grounds then clean the filter, to prevent the coffee from becoming bitter, when Miss Heathcott arrived.  She stepped inside, surprised to see Mr. Barnes leaning against a wall, looking down to the floor but not seeing anything.  He seemed a little pensive, then he heard her and straightened up, giving her a small smile.

"Good morning, Miss Heathcott," he said, politely, trying to restore his usual projection of calm leadership.  "You're early today."

"I had some final preparations for art class," she answered, taking her coat off and hanging it up in the closet.  "Is everything alright, Mr. Barnes?  You seem a little preoccupied."

"I am a little," he answered truthfully.  "I have an important announcement for the staff, but I'll wait for everyone to arrive before I make it.  It will only take a few moments between first bell and final bell."  He moved over to a chalkboard in the staff room.  "I guess I should put that down so that people return in time to hear the announcement.  Coffee is made if you wish to have some.  I still have to empty and clean the filter."

"Thank you," she smiled.  "I will.  I can clean the filter for you, since you were thoughtful enough to get it started."

She poured herself a coffee then opened the top and carefully lifted the filter with the steaming grounds out of the urn, aware that he was watching her.  Why it made her a little nervous today was a mystery to her.  They had worked together in the school for twelve years, her entire school career.  He had been a 5th grade teacher when she started fresh out of college.  Promoted to assistant principal ten years ago, and principal four years ago, he was still a handsome man and she had wondered if they could ever have more than a working relationship.  But his introverted nature, especially around women, became clear soon enough and she gave up any hope of him noticing her in a romantic sense, resigning herself to being a spinster since other men seemed as indifferent to her.  Still, he was always a gentleman, and an effective manager of their staff as he was quite unflappable by the shenanigans of some students, as well as being well respected by the parents.

Leaving the staff room to don his overcoat again and take on the supervision of arriving students, Mr. Barnes greeted everyone as they arrived.  There was always a persistent group of children around him, sharing the details of their lives.  He took it all in good stride, knowing from experience that for those children from a single parent family, they needed the attention of another adult to hear their thoughts and observations.  It was also a way for him to learn who was having difficulties with the necessities of life or dealing with issues that could be overwhelming.  For the children who were smaller, weaker, and prone to bullying, he was their knight in shining armour, making it very clear that particular behaviour was not tolerated at his school.  It was all part of keeping the school running efficiently while providing a safe learning environment.

Before the first bell sounded, he asked some of the more responsible students in the 5th grade to shepherd the younger students to their rooms as he had a brief staff meeting to attend.  When the bell sounded, he made sure everyone was lined up, filed inside in an orderly fashion, then he went straight to the staff room, removing his overcoat along the way.  The talking in the staff room stopped as he entered, placed his overcoat on a chair and stepped towards the chalkboard.

"Thank you for being here on time," he said.  "There is some important news to share after I received a letter in the mail yesterday.  I am to report for basic army training in one month.  After 8 weeks I am to attend officer training school, after which I will be sent to the European theatre.  I haven't informed the superintendent yet, but I will as soon as the morning classes start.  I will recommend that Mr. Miller be promoted to principal in my absence, but the final decision is with the administration of our school district, as are any decisions regarding assistant principal.  The parents and student body will be informed once we get the confirmation of the transfer of responsibility."

He waited for questions.  Since there weren't any, he nodded his head briefly at the staff, then left, picking up his overcoat along the way.  Mrs. Hardy, his secretary, followed a few minutes later, taking her position at the desk in the front office, while he hung his overcoat up.  He came out again, to supervise in the hallways before the final bell rang, signalling the start of the school day.  Satisfied that everyone was where they should be he returned to the office and sat at his desk to make that phone call to the superintendent's office.  With that out of the way, he began dealing with the school budget. 

That lasted until two boys were brought into the office by Miss Heathcott, both boys appearing very sullen.  She left them in the outer office then appeared at Mr. Barnes' door to explain the situation before returning to her classroom.  He couldn't help but watch her leave wondering why it made him feel like he was being left behind.  Putting that aside he dealt with the boys' dispute, listening to their versions of it as he sat in his chair, his hand on his jaw.  Their dispute was based on a game of marbles that resulted in one of the boys losing his boulder aggie, large agate marble for those who never played.  He told them a story of his boyhood friend who died of polio at the age of 10.  Steve and he played marbles all the time, regularly winning and losing against each other but never letting the heat of the game interfere with their friendship. 

"When he died his ma gave me his marbles, knowing that he would want me to have them.  She said I could give them to my sons, except I don't have any because I never got married.  You two remind me of us, except we never fought each other or called each other names, other than jerk or punk.  I miss him, every day of my life.  Marbles are just things, to be won and to be lost.  But friendship lasts a lifetime and beyond.  Don't let the marbles make you enemies.  Now, if you two can show me that you can get along and maybe become friends, I might be persuaded to give you a bag of marbles that have some dandies in them.  But you have to prove that you're worthy of them.  Can you boys do that for me?"

They both promised and Mr. Barnes walked the boys back to the classroom, making it clear he expected them to apologize to their classmates and Miss Northcott for interrupting the class.  With a nod to the woman teacher who smiled warmly at him in a way that he felt deep inside, he returned to his office and the matter of the budget for the rest of the day.  When classes were dismissed, Mr. Barnes usually insisted that all teachers make an appearance outside the school, both to make sure the students were dispersed and to be a visible presence for any parents who were there.  In his experience he found some parents, especially those from certain families were uncomfortable inside the school but found it easier to approach a teacher outside.  Today there were a few inquiries but nothing that wasn't handled quickly.  More than once he found his attention drawn to Miss Heathcott, her caramel-coloured hair shining in the winter sunlight and her cheeks pink from the brisk air.  Had she always been this beautiful?  The answer was yes but she seemed even more beautiful today.

Most of the teachers stayed for a time to prepare for the next day classes, but Mr. Barnes was always the last one of out the school, other than the custodians.  It was just the way he was.  Walking through the hallways to find out who was still present before he finally left, he was surprised to see Miss Northcott still in her classroom, considering she was in early that morning.  He watched her for several moments, unseen by her.  Intently focused on some papers on her desk, strands of her hair had worked their way over her face, and he wondered if it was as soft as it looked.  Knocking gently on her door frame, he stood in the doorway, as she looked up at him.  Her eyes were a little red.  Had she been crying?

"You're here late.  Is everything alright?"

Embarrassed, she looked away briefly.  "Mostly."  She gave a nervous laugh.  "I know that's not much of an answer.  I guess I'm a little concerned about you going to war.  It will be different here, without you."

He approached her desk, deciding to be bold for once in his life.

"Would you go out with me?" he asked.  "Dinner, or even just a walk on an afternoon this weekend?"

She looked up at him again, noticing how his distinctive blue eyes held their gaze on her.  She could get lost in those eyes.

"A walk sounds nice," she said.  "Here, or in the city?"

He smiled, his even white teeth adding to his handsome features.  "Central Park.  I can meet you at the subway or there at the park."

"At the park is fine," she said.  "Saturday, at 2 pm, at the boathouse ice rink?  Perhaps we can rent skates."

Envisioning the possibility of his arm around her waist as they skated in Central Park he agreed to her suggestion and the date was made.  As he waited for her to put her coat and galoshes on in the staff room before he left, he was filled with an anticipation he hadn't felt in years.  For the remainder of the week, it was challenging to keep their mind on their work.  Both of them, alone and lonely, wondered if perhaps this could be the beginning of something wonderful.  It was difficult not to imagine a future together, even though they had no idea if they were compatible beyond a good work relationship.  For the first time in a long while, both individuals dared to dream of a future with someone at their side.

Then Saturday morning dawned, and Mr. Barnes looked out his window in dismay at the heavy snow that was falling.  Quickly turning on the radio he listened to the announcer describe a weather system that was supposed to go north to Canada, but instead came east to New York.  Temperatures were expected to plummet throughout the day.  It was suggested that the next few days of snowfall could shut the whole city down with the amount that was expected.  Sitting forlornly at his kitchen table, Mr. Barnes made the decision to cancel the date and pulled out his list of teacher names, addresses and telephone numbers.  As he picked out Lucy Heathcott's name in the list, he noted her address was within walking distance of his apartment.  As the phone rang, he suddenly thought of another way to see her.  It was quite improper to ask this of Miss Heathcott, but something told him that if he didn't take this chance, he might regret it for the rest of his life.  For too long he had followed the path of least resistance.  Now was the time for confidence.

"Carpe diem," he said out loud, just as the receiver on the end was picked up.

"Hello?" said a voice on the other end.  He recognized it as Miss Heathcott.  "Who is this?"

"James Barnes," he replied.  Bold, be bold.  "It seems that the weather will make our plans for Central Park unwise, but I wanted to suggest an alternative."

She was quiet for a moment.  "I'm listening."

"You don't live far from me," he said, "and I would be willing to come over and walk you back, but would you consider coming to my apartment?  We can have lunch, listen to music and talk."

He let out a shaky breath.  He had done it, had suggested something as an alternative to cancelling the date.  She was quiet again, then he heard it, an almost imperceptible whisper of carpe diem.  Was it possible that she also wished to throw caution to the wind and do something completely out of character?

"It's supposed to get worse during the day," she said, hesitantly.  "What if by the time I have to go home it is isn't possible?"

It wasn't an outright refusal, but he understood that her reputation was on the line.  She was an unmarried woman, in a position of responsibility.  If it wasn't possible for her to go home, then she would have to stay at his apartment which could reflect poorly on both of them.  He did have a second bedroom.  Why couldn't Miss Heathcott be his guest and stay in the other bedroom?  That wasn't improper, was it?

"You can stay," he answered.  "I have a second bedroom.  It was my mother's before she passed away.  You would be my guest."  He breathed out.  Carpe diem.  "It's just that I was so looking forward to spending time with you.  When I saw the snow, and heard the forecast, it made me feel that perhaps fate was conspiring against us.  Then I realized that life is a choice.  We either accept the limitations placed on us, or we strive to overcome them.  If you insist on returning to your rooming house before dark, I will make sure you get home safely."

He closed his eyes, praying that she would accept. 

"Meet me halfway," she said, after a long silence.  "I live in a rooming house and the landlady would be bothered by a man picking me up.  I'll bring some things to stay, just in case, but I don't promise anything."

An hour later Mr. Barnes met Miss Heathcott, both bundled up enough to cover their faces, but he recognized her scarf and approached her as the snow fell in large wet clumps.  Extending his hand, he took her small valise from her, then offered her his other arm for the walk back to his apartment.  It was the first time they had ever touched and her presence on his arm felt wonderful to him.  They didn't speak until they entered his building and stamped the snow off their feet.  In his apartment they removed their galoshes, and heavy overcoats, hanging them up in the closet by the door.  Both quickly ran their hands through their hair.  He took her valise, leading Miss Heathcott, Lucy, to the second bedroom, handing her luggage to her at the door.

"I'll leave you to get settled," he said.  "Would you like a coffee or would a tea interest you?"

"Tea would be nice," she answered.  "Milk, no sugar.  Thank you ... James."

Lucy came out to a tray set up on a table in the living room, with a teapot, two cups with saucers, and milk.  Taking a closer look at the living room space, she thought it felt very comfortable, with good quality furniture and decor.  Although it was not what she was expecting it showed her host in a positive light.  Noticing the full bookshelves and the record collection she smiled, somehow not surprised at what Mr. Barnes ... James, did to relax.  He came out of the kitchen, carrying a small plate of cookies, wearing a pair of brown trousers, a grey shirt, and a pullover sweater with an argyle pattern of brown and grey over it.  She must have made a noise because he looked at her, then at himself, suddenly self-conscious.

"I've never seen you wear anything other than your black suit and white shirt," she said.  "You look nice, like a different person."

"My first principal insisted on all the men teachers wearing the same suit," he answered.  "Said it was a mark of professionalism.  It just became a habit, I guess.  I usually wear something like this on the evenings and weekends.  In the summer I'm even more relaxed in appearance."  A compliment on his clothing should be returned.  "You look good, too.  I've never seen you in slacks."

"With the cold weather I thought it was prudent," she breathed.  "You live alone?"

He approached closer to where she stood.  "Yes.  My mother lived with me as my sisters are married with small children.  She became too ill to live at home and had to go into the hospital.  She passed away about three years ago.  My father died shortly after I graduated from college. I assumed responsibility for caring for my family."

"I'm sorry.  My folks are still alive but they're in Illinois.  I only get back to see them at Christmas and in the summer." 

They both stopped talking and stood there, unsure what to do next.  He gestured to an armchair for Lucy to sit in, while he sat on the couch.  Pouring her tea first, he handed her the cup and saucer, then poured some for himself.  They sipped from their cups quietly, letting the warmth of the liquid rejuvenate them.  Sitting back, Mr. Barnes crossed his legs at the knee.  Lucy stayed upright in the armchair, crossing her legs at the ankle and angling them to one side. 

"How long have you lived here?" she asked.

"10 years," he answered.  "After my sisters got married my mother's health took a turn and she was unable to be in a place with stairs.  This apartment had elevator access which was easier for her.  Taking care of her took up most of my spare time outside of the school and left no time for courting."  He sipped again.  "I don't want to give it up while I'm away so I'm looking for someone to sublet it while I am overseas."

"It's a very nice place," said Lucy.  "It feels comfortable."  I could be happy living here.  It's much nicer than the rooming house.

He suddenly leaned forward and picked up the plate of cookies offering it to her.  With a polite smile, she took one, placing it on her saucer. 

"You have an interesting assortment of books and records," she said, after she bit into her cookie.  "Have you read all of the books and listened to all of the music?"

"Yes, to both," he answered.  "I taught my sisters to dance with those records, and I've been an avid reader since I was a boy.  Do you read?"

"Yes.  I listened more to the radio for music than bought records.  Who's your favourite author?"

"I was first interested in the stories of Edgar Rice Burroughs, Jules Verne, and H.G. Wells, then I discovered The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien.  It was like being transported to another universe.  Did you know he invented several languages just for the world he created, a place he called Middle Earth?  He's a brilliant man."

"I'll have to read it."  She ate some more of her cookie.  "I'm more of a mystery fan, myself.  Agatha Christie is a favourite."

"She is a good writer."  He looked towards his bookshelf.  "I have the ones with Hercule Poirot in them.  He's a fascinating character."

Lucy beamed at James, glad to have found something in common with him.  They talked more about books, music, and movies, although both admitted they didn't go to the pictures too often.  She offered to help prepare lunch and they talked more in the kitchen about food.  They spent the afternoon listening to several radio shows, sharing the sofa.  As the day lengthened into the late afternoon, Lucy suddenly moved to the window looking out over the snowy landscape.  There were no vehicles about and only a few people were walking.  The wind had come up as well, as she could hear it whistle a little bit through the window.

"I should go home," said Lucy.  "If I wait until dark it will make it difficult to see where I'm going."

"Don't go."  James said quickly.  "I am having a wonderful time getting to know you better."

"What would people say if they knew I was here?  I could lose my job."

"But they don't know," he answered.  "Did your landlady notice you leaving with your valise?"

Lucy nodded then looked down.  "I lied and told her I was spending the night with a girlfriend whose husband had just left for England.  Said she was nervous about being alone during the snowfall."

Wringing her hands a little betrayed her distress at having to lie.  Gently, he placed one of his hands on hers, stilling her motions.  It was a little presumptuous, he knew, but he didn't want her to leave.  This had been a wonderful time for him.

"I'm glad you're here," he said.  "In the morning the snowplows will likely be out, and the footing will be easier to manage."  He looked out the window.  "By the time we got halfway you would have to walk the rest of the way alone in the dark and I couldn't ... I wouldn't leave you to do that.  The odds of your landlady seeing us would increase.  Please ... stay."

Her hands were so soft that he was unaware he was gently rubbing his thumb over the back of one of them.  She looked at it, then at him and swallowed.  Smiling, he released her hands and stepped back. 

"I'll stay but you promise to be a gentleman?"

"On my mother's memory," he replied.  "I would never force myself on you."

She took him at his word.  Even though it was cold and dark outside, inside, in his heart, he felt light and young again.  Together they prepared dinner, lighting candles on the table, and listening to orchestral music on the radio.  After washing up, they returned to the living room and sat quietly again in the stillness that seemed to amplify the beating of their hearts.

"Would you dance with me?" he asked.  "There is always nice music on the radio." 

"I'm not very good," she replied, blushing.  "I rarely get asked."

"That's alright.  Neither am I really.  All we have to do is sway and move our feet a little.  Please."

She nodded and he turned the radio on, tuning in a station with slow dance music.  Taking his hand, she tensed a little at how his other hand touched her back, bringing them closer together.  Tentatively, they began swaying to the music, and slowly relaxed into it.  He placed his head close to hers, close enough to smell her perfume and became brave enough to tell her something, when The Man I Love came on.

"Every time I hear this song, I imagine I'm in Paris," he murmured.  "I'm with a beautiful woman and we're outside a café.  The music wafts out onto the sidewalk and the only light is from the streetlamp above.  Even though there are others there, in our circle of light we feel like we're alone.  It's a warm summer night.  I'm wearing trousers and a dress shirt, no tie, and my sleeves are rolled up because of the heat, while my partner is wearing a pretty dress and heels."

She looked up at him, noticing how dark his eyes seemed.  Lucy's heart was beating so loudly, she was sure James could hear it, but he just kept looking at her.

"What happens next?" she asked. 

"Suddenly, we are alone, as everyone goes inside to refresh their drinks.  I brush my fingers along her cheek."  He stopped and brushed his fingers just above her jawline.  "Then I kiss her softly on the lips and draw her into my embrace."

Looking at his lips she opened hers slightly and he leaned over kissing her gently, pulling her into his arms, as she wrapped her arms around him.  It was every bit as nice as he imagined.  Her lips were so soft and pliable, and the touch of their tongues sent a sensation into his brain that made him want more.  How her body felt, melded with his as they held each other, reminded him of the first woman he fell in love with when he was in college. The memory of how they spent their first night together affected him physically in a way he thought was gone forever.  The song finished but neither of them heard the next song be introduced or begin as they kept the sweet connection going.  Slowly, he pulled away then caressed her face.

"I've wanted to do that for so long," he said.  "Lucy, I know that we don't have long before I leave but would you allow me to see you until then?"

"To what end?" she asked.  "I've wanted to kiss you as well, but I want more than just spending time together."  She looked away, embarrassed a little.  "I felt how your body responded to me as we kissed. I know it's normal in a man, but I've never been in the position of feeling desire that way. I want more."

He gasped slightly.  What was she saying?  Carefully, he cleared his throat.

"You felt desire for me?"  She nodded.  That was unexpected.  He had accepted her caveat of being a gentleman when she agreed to stay.  "It's been a long time since I was with a lady.  College, actually.  I never expected you to ...."

She put her fingertips on his lips, and he kissed them, softening his gaze on her.  He couldn't deny that the thought of being with her in that way wasn't enticing to him, but this was new ground for him.  As a man, he wanted it but as a gentleman there was more to consider, especially for her. 

What if a child was conceived?  It would make him a cad if he was overseas and received a letter from her saying their tryst had produced a baby.  She would lose her job, be ostracized, and evicted from her rooming house, although she could live here.  He glanced around his apartment; she could live here.  What if she did so as his wife?  They had known each other for 12 years.  They weren't strangers.  He was a bachelor; she was a spinster; successful marriages had been built just on that.  With the war on, she could continue working as a married woman, if she wanted.  He looked at her upturned face, a small smile gracing it, and felt that warmth again.  Carpe diem.

"Would you marry me?" he asked.  "We could go to City Hall before it closes one day and get the licence and be married next weekend.  You could move in here, stay here while I'm away, be waiting for me when I get back.  If what we do tonight produces a child, you'll be taken care of.  If anything happens to me, all that I have will be yours."

Marry him?  Her mouth was suddenly dry, and no words were forthcoming from her lips.  A proposal certainly was unexpected.  She had crossed a boundary by coming here, then had crossed another by even suggesting they be together physically.  Now, he was offering a chance to make it right.  He was offering the protection of his name and his home by asking her to be his wife, regardless of what would come from this night.  Is that what she wanted?  Carpe diem.

"Yes."

Their kiss was brief but deep, intense, and full of anticipation. James, ever the gentleman, wanted to ensure Lucy felt safe with him. He wouldn’t be aggressive with her as it wasn’t his nature. They could begin with sharing a bed and go from there.

"Do you want to change into your nightclothes?" he asked.  "We can be in my bedroom or in yours.  Whatever you're more comfortable with."

"Yours," she said.  "I would like to change.  James, do you like me?"

He lowered his eyes and breathed out noticeably.  For a moment, she thought he wouldn't answer her or would say that he didn't.

"I have loved you from afar for a long time. If I had a flower for every time I thought of you ... I could walk through my garden forever.  Alfred, Lord Tennyson said that, and I have known that I loved you ever since the first day I laid eyes on you.  When I return, we'll have a house with a garden full of flowers.  It won't make up for the years I was too afraid to say anything, but I will say it now.  I love you, Lucy.  Now and forever, you will be in my heart."

Nothing else mattered after those words were spoken.  The kiss they shared at this moment was more intense and passionate than she had ever imagined a kiss could be.  To be wanted so much by a man, and to want him in return was the most wonderful feeling in the world.  Right now, this was their world, and they would live by their decisions.

💞 💞

June 1945

The taxi driver wouldn't take the money that Captain Barnes offered to him when he pulled up in front of the Brooklyn apartment building.  He saw the medals on the officer's uniform, then noticed the folded up left sleeve of the man's jacket.  This was a war hero, a man who lost an arm for his country, a man who made it back alive.  Today, he rode free.  With a slight smile, Barnes got out of the taxi, reaching in for his duffle bag and grasping the strap with his right hand.  As he stood on the sidewalk and looked up at the brick building that he hadn't seen in two years he wondered if Lucy would forgive him for not telling her what happened.  Might as well get it over with.

The elevator ride was slow, but it gave him time to think about all that had happened since their quick marriage, and separation after he left.  It was only six weeks into basic training that Lucy wrote him about being pregnant.  She turned the second bedroom into a nursery, selling his mother's bedroom suite, on his insistence, to pay for the baby furniture they needed.  Her letters had been filled with love and longing for the day when they would be reunited. 

When he lost his arm, just days before Germany's surrender, he couldn't bring himself to tell her.  It was hard to admit that he felt less a man than he did before.  He wasn't sure he could return to being a school principal.  Would staff and students still respect him without his arm?  Then the day came when he got his orders to report to a hospital ship returning to New York.  His stump wound was healing well so he didn't need much medical care on the trip back.  An army doctor on board told him that as a veteran he could get an artificial arm fitted, admitting they weren't the most friendly looking things, using hooks to replace a lost hand, but gave him a card for a special foundation, funded by the billionaire Howard Stark.  He was developing a new type of prosthetic for amputees and wanted men willing to try his prototypes out.  It was worth exploring.

The elevator stopped and the door opened.  Grasping his duffle bag again, Barnes walked to the door of his apartment and placed the bag on the floor, then tentatively knocked on the door.  He could hear Lucy's footsteps approaching, his heart racing with an ominous sense of foreboding.  Then it opened, and there she was, looking up at him in surprise.  Her arms went around his neck, as she cried, calling his name out over and over again.  Wrapping his right arm around her, he buried his now clean-shaven face into her neck, taking in the smell of her perfume and the softness of her hair and skin.  Then their lips met, deliriously tasting and sensing that which they had both missed since they said goodbye.  Her hands went to his arms, and it was then she noticed, as she looked from where his left arm should have been to his face and back again.

"Your arm ... you lost it."  It was said as a statement of fact.  He nodded, prepared to explain.  "Oh, my darling, my love.  If that was the price to bring you back to me then that's how it is.  For you are back, aren't you?  You are still mine?  Still my James?"

"Now and forever," he answered, almost ready to cry in relief.  He took in all of her, her face, her hair, her lips, her hands that he brought to his own lips to kiss.  "I'm home and I'm never going to war again."

She caressed his face, then kissed him again, a sweet and gentle peck that was just as loving as the passionate one shared moments earlier.  Stepping back into the apartment as he picked up his bag, she waited for him to drop it off inside the door, then he took his cap off, placing it on a side table.  Leading him into the living room where a playpen held his son, James Barnes Jr., she dropped his hand.  The toddler raised his arms to Lucy, and she scooped him up.

"JJ, this is your daddy," she said.  "Daddy's home from the war.  Can you say hi and give him a kiss?"

The little boy's attention was taken by the medals on his father's uniform, reaching for them with his chubby hands.  Holding his right arm out, Bucky held him firmly on his hip, looking at the blue eyes, and Lucy's hair on this beautiful child, his child, conceived on a wintry night when a lonely man and woman, who thought life had passed them by, decided to seize the day and reach for happiness together.  His lips trembled and his eyes watered.  He had never been so happy, as he was right this moment.  What would the future bring?  Whatever they willed it.

One shots masterlist

[galacticwildfire]

Excerpt from Young and Beautiful

40s!Bucky Barnes x f!oc

Tags: tooth-rotting fluff, excessive use of pet names, enthusiastic consent, penetrative smut, unprotected sex (in the context of the full fic the oc is a former black widow and infertile), newly established relationship.

Word count: 1k

Full fic is on ao3

~

I struggle for words as he walks to the fridge, whistling a familiar tune and debating what to make for breakfast. No room has ever seemed so bright, and I never knew I could feel so much and not have it be in pain. 

"James."

"Yeah sweetheart?"

I say the only words that could begin to express just what I feel. "I love you."

He looks back at me and his face softens. "I love you too." He leaves the fridge to come over and take my face in his hands. "My angel."

“My soldier.”

He kisses me and nothing has ever felt as blissful as this. The adrenaline of falling and knowing I’ll land safely… my heart feels as if it may burst. My head’s light and my body’s aches as my hand slips into his short hair from where I'm perched atop the table, pulling him closer. My legs uncross to allow him between them and his hands settle on my waist, but only briefly before wandering to places that have me gasping into his open mouth. 

This time it becomes quite clear that breakfast will have to wait another hour or so and I’m laughing as he reaches back, fumbling to turn off the stove before lifting me up and carrying me into the living room.

We end up on the couch and he pulls me into his lap, leaning against the back of it as I straddle his hips with nothing beneath my nightgown, my fingers trailing along the length of his abdomen until they reach the waistband of his trousers. 

He breaks the kiss to check “You’re not sore?’ 

“Need you,” I breathe with a shake of my head and he quickly helps me remove his trousers before positioning me firmly atop his lap. His cock rests between my slick folds, hard and aching as I grind myself along the length of him until I’m sighing his name into his mouth.

He gently slips the straps of my nightgown down so the fabric falls to expose my breasts and he lifts me up enough to take a nipple in his mouth, his tongue skilled in its caress. His cock nudges at my entrance from this angle and he searches my eyes, waiting for my nod of encouragement before helping guide me down onto it. The stretch of him is anything but painful and I’m hyperaware of every ridge and vein of him dragging along my walls until finally I’m seated fully. He’s almost too much to take like this, but still comfortable enough that I can grind myself down onto him at the right angle. 

“Shit,” I breathe, the head of him pressing into the deepest part of me as I roll my hips into him. “James…”

My forehead falls against his and his chest’s flush with mine, my nipples grazing his skin as I begin to move, chasing that sensation that’s already steadily building with each grind of our bodies. He bucks his hips up, meeting the grind of my hips with languid thrusts and I begin to fall apart far sooner than either of us anticipate. 

“Fuck,” I rasp, his fingers digging into my hips, helping guide my rhythm when I begin to falter. “You feel so damn good.”

“Me?” he says with a breathless laugh, our bodies starting to become slick with sweat. “Baby you aren’t sitting where I am.”

He punctuates his words with a hard thrust up into me that sends me near collapsing on his chest, fingernails digging into his shoulders as he sets a harder pace that has me seeing stars.

“That’s it angel,” he praises, nipping softly at my pulse as he helps keep the now desperate rhythm of my hips. “That’s my girl, just like that.”

My lips crash into his and it’s his own rasp of my name that sends me crashing over that edge, collapsing on his chest and dragging my wet lips along his jaw. He’s still hard within me and panting as he gently lowers me down until my back rests on the couch, tucking a cushion beneath my head and the armrest. 

I’m whining as he pulls out, kissing over my breasts and running a soothing hand along my thigh to give me a chance to recuperate before settling back between my legs and lowering his body onto mine. He strokes my hair out of my eyes, peppering soft kisses across my face and squeezing my thigh as he murmurs “Can you keep going, sweetheart?”

I smile breathlessly against his lips, nodding my confirmation and telling him “I want you to finish inside me.”

He exhales with a smile and kisses me again before reaching down between our bodies to guide himself back inside me. My head falls back against the armrest as he again fills me and he reaches to lace my hand with his, moving gently at first until he’s sure I’m not in any discomfort and then setting a faster pace that has him trembling above me. 

Just as quickly I begin approaching my second orgasm, grasping at the back of his neck with my free hand and urging him on with the grip of my legs around his hips. 

“Got another one in you doll?” he asks and he’s answered by the cry that’s torn from my lungs as he shifts angles to grind against me. “Sound so pretty baby.”

“James,” I whimper, my body still electrified from the first position and tender from our late-night tryst. “Fuck-”

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs against my lips, his voice breathless now. “Tell me what you need baby.”

“Harder,” I request and he gives it to me, dipping his head down to my neck to suck a mark above my pulse, his teeth only just sinking into my skin but the effects are explosive. “Buck-”

He drives hard into me and I’m clenching around him, a hoarse groan escaping him as he spills his warmth into me and his body all but collapses on top of mine. For a few moments neither of us can form words, instead we lay there in blissful relief with my fingernails gently running through his short hair and his hand soothing my body, feeling the warmth of his panting breath across my shoulder until it’s replaced with the softness of his lips.

He works his way back to my lips before pulling back with a breathless smile as he takes me in, and I’m returning it at the sight of the utter adoration in his eyes. I tilt my head to kiss our laced hands that rest beside my head, utterly lost in the bliss of being his. 

[mrsaguapapi]

Ch 1  Ch 2  Ch 3  Ch 4  Ch 5  Ch 6  Ch 7  Ch 8  Ch 9  Ch 10  Ch 11 Ch 12  Ch 13  Ch 14   Ch 15 Ch 16  Ch 17

Chapter 18

My Sunshine

The Vibe:

Corinne Bailey Rae 11. Seasons Change

"Wanda is dead. I saw her die" Stranges says pacing away in his office. Looking absolutely ridiculous with his lounge clothes and a cloak.

"She's alive Stephen." I say exasperated

"Okay, I'll play. Let's say she's alive, which she's not. Why of all people would you go to her?" he gestures to himself, "I can help you."

"I'm not letting you anywhere near my memories thank you very much." I scoff at him, "I don't have time to bring you up to speed, I need to speak with her, and considering with what happened in Westview and your little multiverse incident, I don't know where her head is at mentally. All I'm asking is that you watch my back and be on standby" I plead

"Look I want to help you but that last thing we need is to instigate another fight with Wanda Maximoff, IF, she's even alive," Strange says. "If she's alive, I theorize she won't be happy seeing me, so no, I'm not going with you," I roll my eyes and stand up, ready to walk out, "I didn't say I wasn't going to help you," he says stopping me in my place

"Okay well, Stephen can you just spit it out some of us have shit to do," I say holding my hands out annoyed

He rolls his eyes and pulls out a display and uncovers it revealing a floating crystal ball, "This is the Orb of Agamotto. This allows me to monitor the universe and other surrounding dimensions. With the ability to 'Livestream' other planets and pinpoint magic users anywhere, except for those with the power to block its view. I can use this to watch you from a distance and if anything goes wrong, I'll portal to you and help"

I take a moment to think about it, "Fine, you have a deal" I say holding out my hand to him

He shakes my hand and smiles, "Does this mean I'm forgiven?"

"Ugh and you ruined it," I say, dropping my hand, rolling my eyes, and grabbing my sling ring, "For the record, I never really blamed you, and neither does Peter. You just happen to have an annoying face and that I can't forgive" I laugh to myself," Give me your phone" I say to Strange. He hands me his phone and I put my number in it and call myself so I have his number, "When I get there I'll call you and have you in my ear." I say putting an airpod in and giving back his phone. Pausing for a moment I take in a deep breath and exhale allowing myself to relax before opening a portal to the shuffling streets of Sokovia.

I step through turning to look at Strange, "If she's alive and as powerful as before she could easily sever my connection. Just keep that in mind." He warns. I nod my head and close the portal.

"Okay let's get this show on the road," I say to myself walking the down the city streets

----------------------

After getting some food and thinking about the next approach I decided instead of using a locator spell and exposing her safe space, I figure I'll summon her to me. So I picked the most public place I could think of.

A playground

Sitting on the bench watching the children play, I say in my head, "Wanda, I need your help" I call out to her making sure my intention is clear and that I mean no harm, "That should do the trick" I whisper to myself. I pull out my phone to call Strange, "Hey, she'll be here any minute. Can you see me?"

"You chose to bring 'The Scarlet Witch' to a playground?"

"She won't hurt the children," I say

"I once thought that too until she tried to murder America Chavez in front of me" he quips

"Yea well this time will be different Stephen," I say annoyed "Have a little hope will ya?"

He sighs, "You never told me why you need her specifically."

"I was told by my dead mother to go to her directly. She didn't say why, but I trust her judgment. Wanda may also have some info on someone else I'm looking for." I say rather quickly and annoyed

"So the short answer is you don't know," he says

"I've been on the phone with you for 2 mins and I already want to kick your ass," I say making us both laugh

"What's so funny?" I hear someone say near me, causing me to damn near jump out of my skin. It was Wanda sitting next to me in civilian clothes with her hair dripping wet.

"Good lord girl. You don't have to be so creepy" I say clutching my fake pearls

"You started It. I heard your little whispers in my ear while I was in the shower. I thought you had the drop on me." she laughs under her breath, "So why are you here? Don't you know I'm 'dead'? I'm sure Stephen told you. Right Stephen?" She asks a little louder

She knows

"Did you think I wouldn't know?" Wanda Asks

"Millie she's blocking me, I can't see you anymore," Stephen says in my ear, "I'm coming to you"

"Hold off Stephen," I say out loud, "It's okay" I pause looking at Wanda with a small smile, "Do you blame me? If I didn't come with some sort of backup, I'd be pretty dumb don't ya think?"

She looks at me for a while like she was searching for something in my face eventually looking away and letting out a large exhale, "I have been a real witch lately" she says causing me to laugh, "You said you needed my help and I could really use a distraction right now, so what can I do for you?"

"Hey, Stephen you still there?" I ask

"I'm still here. You still alive?" He asks

"Yep. I'm gonna let you go, I'm okay" I say to him

"Are you sure?"

"Mhmm, I'll text you later," I say before hanging up on him, "Let me buy you a drink. We've got a lot to talk about." I say standing up and holding out my hand to her

"One drink isn't going to cut it," She says taking my hand "Might have to buy the bar," she says making us both chuckle.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wanda and I have been venting and drinking for an hour or so at this dingy little bar in the middle of town. We both are sitting in a booth in the back of the room effectively away from the other patrons.

"So," I say before throwing back another tequila shot, "So out of grief you kidnapped and brainwashed a random town in New Jersey, Created a fake husband and children, and then traveled through other universes, blindly looking for said fake children?" I ask

"Well," Wanda taking a sip of her bourbon, "I feel like you're oversimplifying it a bit. Westview wasn't a random town, Vis bought us some land there to build us a home and my children are only fake here, they're very much real elsewhere, but... essentially yes you are correct." She says finishing the drink

"Wanda," I say rubbing my head from the sudden rush I'm feeling, "That like really sucks"

"I Know right? "Oh and let's not forget Pietro, my dead twin brother," She says nonchalantly

I burst out in laughter, I couldn't help myself at her candor, "I'm sorry that was so mean" I said trying to control myself.

Surprisingly Wanda joins me, "You are fucked up, you know that?" She says laughing with me

"I know! I know! I'm sorry, it's either you laugh or you cry and I'm tired of crying" I say catching my breath from laughing

"Couldn't have said it better myself" Wanda says collecting herself from laughing with me"So enough about me and my lifetime of trauma, fill me in on what's going on; why do you need my help?"

"Can I just so show you? It will be quicker" I ask holding my hand out to her

"Is it going to hurt?" She asks hesitantly

"No. I mean no one has complained before?" I say smiling and shrugging. She places her hand in mine and I use my memory transference on her filling her in on everything; my ghost mom and her past with the darkhold, the books from Wakanda, how peter found me in the lake, and my lack of memory.

"Wow," Wanda says taking her hand back, "You've got some serious power Millie, your magic is vast." She says rubbing her hand "Unpredictable too... It's very familiar."

"Well that wasn't ominous at all," I say a little creeped out, "Can you help me?"

"Yes, I think so. We'll need an open field and it's probably going to hurt" She says standing up "Come on we should get going"

"Fine," I say standing up and throwing some cash on the bar, "But can we not skip over the whole 'it's going to hurt thing"

"I imagine being struck by lightning doesn't feel good," She says walking out

"Well Fuck" I say following her

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Vibe:

Bishop Briggs - Lessons of the Fire: Official Lyric Video | Devil In Ohio | Netflix

Wanda takes me to this field on the outskirts of town. It was surrounded by overarching trees and we were in the open center. When I look up I see nothing but a full moon and stars. The air was cool and the energy surrounding us was peaceful. Wanda had set up several candles around me in a circle and stepped out leaving me alone in the center

"Explain it to me one more time, " I say a little freaked out

"You need to summon the lightning to strike you"

"Okay but why?" I say a little freaked out

"The connection you and your ancestors have with nature runs deep in your blood. Channeling the weather seems to be something engrained in your DNA, specifically thunderstorms and lightning. A storm woke you up in that lake; you were struck by lightning. I'm hoping that with almost the same conditions, it could do the same for your mind. Make sense?" She finishes

"Yes, it does, I think. I'm sorry but I am scared the last time this happened it left me with a giant scar across my body." I say unconsciously rubbing my scar, "Are you sure you can't do some kind of spell?"

"I can't. Quite frankly I'm afraid too"

"What does that mean?" I scoff

"You possess multiple forms of magic. It shouldn't be possible to have more than 2 or 3. Millie, from what I felt from your hand and what you've shown me in your memories, you seem to possess 4. I'm afraid if I go poking around in your brain that you will unconsciously retaliate and that's the last thing we want to do."

Why is she being so cautious?

"What forms do you think I possess?"

"1 being eldritch magic, which you learned from the sorcerers. Accessible by humans, eldritch magic can be properly controlled by those with highly disciplined minds who have been trained in casting spells. Your ancestor Ayesha was a sorcerer supreme, so it's only natural that you have an affinity for this form. " Wanda pauses, I can tell she's a little hesitant to continue.

"Go on it's okay, I can take it," I say trying to convince her, and myself

"The second being Dark Magic, also known as Witchcraft. An extremely powerful and difficult type of magic used by sorcerers and witches to achieve their goals through morally questionable means.

"Morally questionable means? I would never hurt anyone.." I begin to say

"You wouldn't now, but what about you before your memory loss? Who's to say you weren't a bad guy? In your memories when your mother died you were taken by a coven of witches led by Agatha. Agatha isn't exactly a good witch; she's ancient and she's evil. I wouldn't be surprised that her influence on you wasn't positive, especially considering that she's also possessed the darkhold." Wanda sighs. "She was a pain in my ass, I'll take you to her after this."

She has a point, what if my memory comes back and I still have an allegiance to her? What If I lose my feelings for my current loved ones...

"Anyways" Wanda continues pulling me back from internal panic, "Dark magic can be combined with other types of magic, which leads me into your last 2 forms, darkhold and chaos Magic. When your mother was using the darkhold while pregnant with you, a portion of its power embedded itself in you.  I am almost positive that's why are you able to use magic just by mentally displaying your intent."

"I can understand why I may have dark hold magic but chaos magic feels like a stretch. Due to its very nature, chaos magic is extremely unstable and requires a massive amount of energy and control to master it; I don't feel I'm at that level. I would have noticed by now right?"

"Like me, you were born with latent magical abilities, yours coming from your ancestors. Your generational power bestowment has given you vast immeasurable strength that was the perfect breeding ground for chaos magic. Let me ask you, have you been losing your temper or lost control of your powers lately?"

"Yea I have been losing control of my powers," I say thinking back to the incident in my bedroom and outside of the royal palace in Wakanda, "I also almost killed a man yesterday. Honestly, I think I could have done it if I wasn't stopped."

"Key signs. I knew your power felt familiar, I felt the chaotic energy pulsate through your veins; You're like me. If I fuck anything up messing with your memories you could go crazy destroying everything in sight. Do you get it now?" She says to me very seriously

"I do" I pause lost in my thoughts. After a few more seconds I hear a loud beep come from my pocket. I pull out the source of the noise and realize it was my pager.

It was a new voice message from Namor, I hold it to my ear and listen, "I miss you more Ki'ichpan"

Through messages and he still makes me swoon.

Feeling a little relaxed, I take in a deep breath, "What do I need to do"

Wanda holds out her hand, "Give me your beeper and your cell so they don't get destroyed." Doing as she says I throw my things in my sling bag and hand it to her, "Okay do what you need to do, to feel as connected to the nature surrounding us"

I take off my sneakers and socks linking my feet to the grass, "Okay" I nod to her

"You can already control the basic elements correct?"

"Yes," I say

"What are the conditions needed to cause a storm?" She asks me

"Storms form when warm, moist air rises into the cold air," I respond

"Make that happen," She says plainly

I silently nod my head and close my eyes; my feet are firmly planted on the ground and my hands are open at my side. I begin to box breathe:

In 1,2,3,4

Hold 1,2,3,4

Out 1,2,3,4

Repeat

Eventually, I feel myself relax, I'm only focused on the surrounding sound of the night; the wind around me was nothing more than a breeze. I was in a total moment of zen and for a while it was quiet. After minutes of silence, the wind around me began to dance and I feel the hair on my arms stand, "It's coming I can feel it" I said as the wind begins to pick up rapidly.

I open my eyes and lift my hand to the sky calling the lighting to me. I see storm clouds forming over us almost fully blocking out the moon, nearly leaving us in total darkness if not for the candles, "Come on" I yell to the storm. For a moment it grew eerily quiet but suddenly flashes of lights began to paint the sky; it was my lightning. Just as I began to smile with pride from the storm I created, a giant bolt of lightning makes it's way down, connecting to my hand and making my whole body seize.

The pain I feel is almost indescribable; not only did my body feel like every inch of me was on fire but my head felt like my brain was boiling inside my skull. For what felt like an eternity, but in reality, it was only a matter of seconds, the pain stopped and I fell to the ground. The only thing I remember before fading away was Wanda rushing to me, "Millie Wake up" she says, "Millie don't g-", was all I hear before slipping away.

----------------------------------------------

The Vibe:

Breathe me -- sia

It's dark and quiet. I can't feel anything. I can't move.

"Mom.." I hear a males voice whisper

Who's voice is that?

I hear the voice speak again, "Mom I-" he coughs not being able to finish his sentence.

I know that voice.

"Momma I can't move" he speaks clearly before coughing and gurgling. That voice is so familiar. It's warm like the sun. The sun...

You are my sunshine

My only sunshine

You make me happy

When skies are gray

You'll never know, dear

How much I love you

Please don't take

My sunshine away

I love the sun. My son. I named him after the Sun God; the creator of the universe. He's my sunshine, my world, the center of my universe. My Amun.

"Amun!" I yell jolting up. When sitting up I instinctively grab my stomach in utter pain. Looking down I see I'm bleeding, I'm assuming a stab wound. Looking around I see I'm back at that same awful place. Kissena Park.

"Mom," Amun says

I hear my son call to me again; I snap my head in his direction and I see my son lying on the ground covered in blood, "No!" I scream crawling to him, "No, no, no"

When I reach him and scan him a little closer I can see he was stabbed like me but it must be somewhere fatal spot because he was coughing up blood, "He stabbed and knocked you out" he says in between coughs, "I tried t-to protect you but I wasn't strong enough, I'm s-sorry Mom"

"Hush now baby," I say panicked and in between tears, "I can heal you," I say holding my hand over his wound.

"You're too w-weak, you'll die," He says

"I don't care. You are my son, my life means nothing without yours. Just breathe baby" I say trying to calm him and myself down

"Momma, who is that? Sh-she looks like you" He says looking past me. I turn around and see no one.

"Amun baby no one is there," I say

"Momma she's so warm. I think- I think I'm going to go with her" Amun says to me

No.

"No baby stay with me. Don't go." I say my voice begins to shake, "Stay with me, I can fix you, Please" I beg

"It's okay momma, I'll be fine." He says before looking behind me and nodding his head.

I turn around and still see nothing, "What am I to do?  How do I breathe without you?"

Amun takes my hand and squeezes it and smiles before taking his last breath. His hand relaxed in mine, and his eyes glossed over. As he took his last breath he took a part of me with him. I pull my son's body to me holding him tightly never wanting to let him go.

"Well that was dramatic" I hear a man say from behind me, "It was a shame he went down so fast, I expected more from him considering his lineage."

I gently put my boy's body down leaving a kiss on his forehead before standing up and turning around. It was the faceless man in the black suit, "Bring him back"

"Like mother, like daughter. What are you willing to trade for his life? Your mother gave me her power. What do you have to barter?"

"Take anything, my power, my life, my soul. I don't care to take it all"

"No" he responds, "Why would I bring him back? I was the one who killed him."

"Y-you attacked us?" I asked. My voice was shaking; I was filled with not only grief and sadness but an overwhelming sense of rage, "Why? We lived in peace, I have atoned for my past. How did you even find us, we were so careful for years."

"Your family has always been on my radar, But you should thank your friend Agatha, she pointed me in your direction." He smiles as my heart drops

Agatha why?...

"I knew one day eventually one of your family's descendants' power would rival mine and I just can't have that. I figure it's time to end the whole bloodline. You should take some pride that it ends with you, you are the strongest and with more time you could have been more powerful." He steps closer placing a hand on my cheek. I look at him where his eyes should be, "It'll be easier if you just surrender Millaenyia"

"All chances of me surrendering left when you Killed my son." I sneer

"So be it," he says disappointed. Before I knew it his hands were hovering at the side of my head, he was draining me of my power and my life, "Don't worry this won't take long" he says softly

I fall to the ground, no longer able to stand up. If I don't act quickly, I will die.

Maybe I should let him.

I ponder on that thought for a while and just as I was about to accept my fate the man speaks up, "Almost done, you'll soon be with your son"

My son. He killed my son.

I snap out of it, realizing I was about to let my son's murderer roam free, I quickly devise a plan.

I'm too weak to kill. But I think I have enough in me to trap him.

I look up and see the man holding his head back as he was draining me, he wasn't paying attention to my hands. I lift my hand out toward the tree behind him; I use what's left of my powers to form an opening in the tree that was big enough to hide a body within it. Once done I call to the roots and branches of the tree, willing them to slowly creep up behind the man and gently wrap around his legs and arms. He was so focused on the feeling of this newly acquired power of his, that he didn't notice he was being detained until it was too late.

"What is this?" He says seeing the branches wrapped around his hand, "What are you do-" the man says before whipping back into the tree. His arms were now behind his back being thoroughly wrapped in roots followed by the rest of his body. The only exposed part of him now was his neck up, "This won't hold me, you child"

I stand up and walk to him, "You will rot in here" I sneer before wrapping my hand around his neck quickly taking back my power and life force. "All you care about is power right?" I ask knowing the answer, "I'll take that too" I say now draining him of his energy and power, leaving just enough to keep him alive so he can rot here for the rest of days.

"Let me-" he struggles to say "Let me ou-" The roots cover the rest of him effectively muffling his words. I step back holding my hand out to the tree and use my powers to close and seal it shut. I place my hand on the tree and close my eyes:

To be Seen or Unseen.

Never in the focus of one's eye

Of nature's age, it does defy

To be Seen, or Unseen

With this spell, this tree will never age. It shall never be directly seen but it will always be here.

Once done with the small runes are now etched around the tree sealing his fate. I walk back to my Amun and look at him one last time.

I need to bury you, my love.

When I go to pick him up I see he had the journal he made of me tucked away in his jacket. Not wanting to leave the journal behind for someone to find and use, I grab it and bind it to my wrist before I pick Amun up. I walk towards the lake and will the water to separate allowing me to walk down to the center of the lake. Once I make it to the spot I place Amun down. I kiss his forward one last time, "My sweet boy" I say before I hold my hand out and use my power to have him sink into the dirt, fully burying him.

I lay beside him now, with the intention of ending my life and resting beside him for eternity. But I couldn't bring myself to do it, something was stopping me like there was someone in my ear telling me no. So, still intending on resting beside my son, I decide that if I'm too cowardly to end it now, I don't deserve to remember him in case I wake up:

Forget me not

Forget me now

Forget the past

Forget the sound

Forget the memories

Forget the love

Forget it all

Forget it now

As I finish the spell, I feel myself begin to fade away and sink to the ground. The water released and is slowly filling the lake back up; I find comfort in my last lingering memory of my son's laughter before I'm completely asleep.

---------------------------------

The Vibe:

Labrinth & Zendaya - I'm Tired (From “Euphoria” An HBO Original Series – Lyric Video)

"Millie wake up!" That is all I hear before I feel water being poured on me.

The sudden feel of cold water all over me jolted me awake. I sit up completely dazed; my eyes were fuzzing and my ears wear slightly ringing. Eventually, the ringing faded and my eyes clear up. I look around and see Wanda sitting next to me, looking like she has seen a ghost, "Are you okay?" She asks, "Fuck you are still steaming, does that hurt? I thought the water would help," she says concerned.

"I'm okay," I say plainly.

"Are you?" she says. I look to her with expressionless eyes and nod.

My body feels numb, it's because of the lightning... No, I remember...

"Did it work? Do you remember?" She asks

"I remember everything," I say beginning to cry, "My son..." I say holding my stomach, I feel like I'm going to throw up, "Oh god my son" I say sobbing

[voiceoffenrisulfr]

Hurt/Comfort Bingo Masterlist

'Human Shield to "I'm Here For You."' On The Tide - Chapter Ten. James 'Bucky' Barnes x Original Male Character. Winter, Greg and Neri do what they do best, with both expected and unexpected results. CW; Dead body, canon-typical violence, gun use, graphic violence, risk of MCD, implied sexual violence, human trafficking references.

'Sleep Deprivation to Hand Holding' Silver & Gold - Chapter Ten. Natasha Romanoff (ish) x Original Male Character. The final chapter. CW: Smut, Keeping Secrets, Vomiting, Pregnancy mentions.

'Broken Ribs to Stitching Up Wounds' On The Tide - Chapter Nine. Bucky Barnes x Original Male Character. Winter’s captors reveal their true intentions. CW; Kidnapping, torture, physical abuse, slave sale, non-con virginity auction.

'Held at Gunpoint to Taking Their Mind off It' On the Tide - Chapter Eleven. James 'Bucky' Barnes x Original Male Character. The boys live with the after-effects of the kidnapping, and how to move forward… Together. CW: Discussion of gunshot wounds and captivity, non-graphic medical care, smut, AAAALLLL the smut. Full smut warnings in prompts.

'"I'm so sorry." to stuffed animal' Nightmare. James 'Bucky' Barnes x Steve Rogers. Steve supports Bucky through his nightmares Post-HYDRA, and Bucky realises that his apartment is slowly filling up with Steve's things. CW: Smut, some angst.

@sweetspicybingo

This was a LOT of fun, even though I didn't get a bingo... I'm looking forward to seeing what comes next from SSB!

[pascaloverx]

Forbidden Romance (+18)

Summary: You are in love with Prince Thor. He will soon be King and is hosting a ball between Kingdoms so he can find his future bride. Unfortunately, the Kingdom of Asgard is not ready to accept the Chief of the Royal Guard as the new Queen.

Warnings: inappropriate language, use of violence and adult content in the future of fanfic. some characters belong to the Marvel universe and others were created by the author. This chapter has adult content (smut). Minors do not read or interact with this fanfic.

chapter four chapter six

Chapter Five

The next day, you feel the weight, the weight of being practically engaged to Prince Steve, of having broken up with Thor, and mostly of having drunk too much alcohol. You get up, preparing your bathtub for a bath. You take advantage of your last moments of privacy. Or so you thought, until you hear someone knocking on your door.

"Who is it?" You ask as you take off your sleepwear and get into the bathtub.

"Your future husband." Says Steve from behind his bedroom door. It would be inappropriate to be seen alone with him. But you're far from adequate anyway.

"Come in, future husband." You decide to say this in the hope that he will come to you.

"Do you think it's appropriate?" He asks without even entering your room. You smile softly thinking that if it was Thor on the other side of the door, he would already be inside your room and more specifically inside you.

"You're the prince here. Tell me what you think?" You say, passing the soap over your body gently. He then enters your room, closing the door behind him, you can hear him hesitate a little to get close to you.

"You didn't tell me you were busy." Steve says as he sits on the edge of your bed. You move your hands over your body while he watches you.

"Prince. You want to marry me, then let's be honest with each other. I'm not the type to be shy in situations like this. If I asked you to come in, it's because I don't consider what I'm doing now, something I can't do in front of you." You say, still bathing while Steve seems to want to understand you. He must be intrigued. Perhaps in his kingdom, there is not so much sincerity or debauchery.

"Since we're being honest, can I join you?" He says pointing to the bathtub. You smile, while shaking your head positively. Minutes later, Steve was naked. It even surprised you how quickly he took off his clothes. He then got into the bathtub, while groaning a little from the temperature of the water.

"Sorry for not letting you know, I usually take colder showers than normal for royalty. If you want, I can go get more hot water." You say as you approach Steve.

"Can you hug me? I think I'll feel warmer this way." Prince Steve speaks shyly and you get even closer, hugging his naked body. His body was a little sensitive, you felt him shiver when you got closer. However his penis seemed to be excited by your presence.

"Can I ask you a personal question, given the fact that we are so close?" You ask as you hold Steve tight against your body.

"You can." He speaks close to your ear while resting his head on your shoulder.

"Does it bother you that I had a relationship with Thor before?" You speak and he sighs.

"No. I don't care. In fact I may be embarrassed right now but I also have my affairs. Even Barnes and I were involved." Steve speaks casually while holding your waist, making you feel lighter while you're in the bathtub.

"I sensed an atmosphere between you two. I must admit, I thought about having something with Barnes but I always thought he didn't know how to be casual." You say, approaching Steve, feeling his penis rub against your pussy. You let out a low moan feeling your body tense.

"Do you think we can be casual? Leaving aside the fact that I will be your husband, of course. You will not be obligated to do anything. If you want, we can only interact with the intention of producing an heir." Steve speaks assertively and you just move getting on top of him, making the edge of his member enter you a little.

"My heart, Your Highness, is busy. But my body and mind are available. You will have a place by my side as long as you know how to value me. Are we understood?" You talk going up and down Steve's lap, feeling him slowly enter and exit you. You both moan as you cling to each other subtly. Until then, neither of you had kissed the other. Just thrusts of him inside you while you hold him against your body. Which was delicious. And slow, oddly enough.

"I'll show you that I know how to value you better than anyone else." He speaks close to his face as he thrusts into you faster. You can't concentrate on the conversation but he manages to concentrate enough to capture Steve's lips on your lips. You kiss him passionately as you hold him closer to you, feeling your orgasm coming. Steve looks like he's going to explode as he practically swallows your lips. Minutes later you and him cum while kissing.

“You are promising, Your Highness. I have to admit." You say as you feel his body under yours, he seems tired.

"Now I definitely don't know why Thor didn't make you Queen." He speaks and then laughs a little. You kiss his neck, and then help him take a shower properly. You get out of the shower soon after and get ready, as later you will formally announce the marriage to King Odin.

"Your Highness, I recommend that you prepare yourself, we will have a busy day today." You say, kissing Steve softly on the lips and opening the door to his room so he can leave. Unfortunately for the two of you, Thor is standing in front of your bedroom door.

"I thought it would take you longer to get over me." Thor says as he watches you and Steve. It's obvious that he knows that you guys have sex.

"If you came here to complain, I suggest you look for someone interested in listening to you." You say responding seriously to Thor. Steve remains by your side, as if he had your back.

"I might add that I don't think it's appropriate to discuss this here." Steve says looking firmly at Thor who seems very uncomfortable.

"Don't worry, Rogers. I only came here because it is essential for you to know that King Odin is ill. His immediate rest has been requested and I as primary heir to the crown, will be replacing him in his duties as King." Thor says looking at you and Steve. There is a certain sadness and superiority in his eyes.

"I will lend my support to the King. Be well, my bride. And my condolences Thor, I hope your father recovers soon." Steve says kissing his forehead and quickly going to the King. Thor continued looking at you. You wanted to ignore him and went ahead to see but you couldn't. You hugged him instead. You knew that Odin was very important to him.

"I will forgive your betrayal because I understand that you are hurt. But know that if it depends on me, no man, no matter if he is a Prince or King, will marry you. You are mine. Don't forget that." Thor says as he hugs you and you feel heavy in his arms. It seems like it will be harder than you thought marry Prince Steve.

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Temporary Custody"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky; Steve x Bucky

Word Count: 3658

Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange

Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.

Trigger warnings: This story contains background themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, self-harm, and alcohol abuse.

Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter of this fic! Story Masterpost

3. Cream filled Sponge Cakes (with chemicals)

Bucky

They plan out what they’re going to do when they get to the hospital on the car ride over.

“I think it’s best if you wait outside at first,” Bucky says, glancing away from the road for a second to try and gauge Steve’s reaction to this. He looks neutral. “Just because she’s already pissed,” he adds. “And it’ll probably be overwhelming having one person telling her they’re taking custody, let alone two.”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees. “That makes sense.”

Bucky holds his hand out over the center console, waiting for Steve to take it. He does, and Bucky grips his hand tight. “I’ll get the initial stuff out of the way. I’m sure there’s gonna be a ton of paperwork.”

“What if she refuses?” Steve worries. “She can, right?”

Bucky sighs. “Yeah. I don’t have any legal hold on her. Yet. I’ll just have to try and talk sense into her, get her to see that we’re better than the alternative.”

Steve gives his hand a squeeze back. “You can do it.”

Bucky sighs. “I hope so. I really do.” Inside though, he’s already not so sure.

They get to the hospital about forty-five minutes after Bucky’d hung up from the phone call with the police officer. He spots a cruiser parked outside when they approach the emergency room, and it rankles his nerves to think of Mary being forcibly shoved into the back seat of said car.

He goes to the check in desk with Steve and asks for Officer Santiago. “I got a call about an involuntary hold. My submissive,” he says. 

The woman at the desk does a double take at that, looking up and down Bucky where he stands like she’s just realized he’s a different species. “Oh,” she says. “You're one of those?” 

Bucky ignores it, but he can sense Steve tensing up by his side, indignant on his behalf. “Yes,” he says. “I am.” He’s not going to waste time getting on his spiel about mental illness and stigmatization. They’ve got bigger problems right now. “I’m going to need her records,” he says, injecting authority into his tone. “And any paperwork for transfer of custody. The cops brought her in. Name’s Mary.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and tries to look self-assured while he waits, because he doesn’t know what he’ll do if the woman demands a last name.

It takes her several minutes to gather everything up for Bucky. She hands it all over to him and says, “That’s the paperwork for custody. The attending physician should be able to provide you with her medical workup.” She points to a set of double doors. “You go down that hallway and to the left. Bed number four.”

Bucky nods and thanks her, then turns to Steve.

“I know,” Steve says, putting on a brave smile. “I’ll wait here.”

“Baby.” Bucky steps close, pulling him into his arms. Steve’s physically just a little bigger than him, and Bucky has always liked the novelty of that. He kisses him gently and then rests their foreheads together for a moment, letting Steve feel their connection. “I love you,” he says quietly. “You’re the best thing I could ever hope for, you know that?”

Steve’s smile is more natural, now. “Yeah I know it.” He gives Bucky another kiss and stands back. “Hey, what about this?” He knocks on Bucky’s shoulder—the metal one. “She know about that?”

Bucky realizes that he’s not wearing his glove, and tries to remember if he’d had it on at the café. He frowns. “Oh well. I don’t think that’s going to be her main focus, not after I explain everything to her.”

“Yeah.” Steve gives him a light push. “I Love you. Now on and get the hard part over with. I’ll be here when you need me.” 

Bucky nods. He knows he will. He goes back to the check in desk, one last question on his mind. “Is there a food court or something around here?”

Mary

Mary’s taken a break from saying pissy things to the cop who’s guarding her. She’s been so angry, she’s felt like her skin’s boiling. But now she’s starting to get tired, too. She hadn’t slept last night, just stayed up and gabbed on the phone to that crisis counselor. 

She grits her teeth as she fumes about that, feeling betrayed all over again. That bitch had called the cops on her!

“You can tell me anything you want to. I’m here to listen, remember?”

Liar!

“I hope you know I don’t have insurance,” Mary snaps at the officer. He’s sitting in a chair in her little curtained off area. He regards her coolly, saying nothing, and she jerks her head to indicate the emergency room. “And I’m not paying a single red cent for any of this.” So far, they’ve taken her blood, her pulse, an EKG, and sent in nurses, a resident, and several shrinks. They’d tried to put an IV in her but she’d ripped it out as soon as nobody was looking. “I’m suing the hospital,” she adds. “And you. I’m suing the whole police department.”

“Okay,” Santiago says, annoyingly calm.

Mary growls, rattling her hand where it’s cuffed to the bed rail. “This is unconstitutional!”

There’s the sound of a throat clearing, and then the curtain to their area is being pulled aside. Mary’s eyes go wide when she sees who it is. “You?!”

Bucky smiles politely at her. “Me.” He steps into the curtained room, a little snack bag in his hand. He holds it up to show her, and she sees the Hostess logo. It’s a bag of little … sponge cake pastries. “Best I could do on such short notice. They’re for you, if you behave,” he says, talking to her like a pet being offered a treat.

Mary wrinkles her nose. “Pass. D’you even know all the chemicals they put in those things?”

Bucky shrugs and turns to offer them to officer Santiago, who more than happily accepts. Mary pouts as she watches him rip open the bag and stuff one in his mouth.

“How are you doing, Mary?”

She turns her attention to Bucky and scowls at the way he uses her name like he knows her. “Awful,” she says. She jerks her head at Santiago. “Officer Dickwad over here won’t let me have my phone.”

“Language,” Santiago says dispassionately, through a mouthful of cake. 

“Shut up and eat your fucking donut, Rent’a’cop.”

Bucky

He puts his foot down once she starts flinging curses and insults at the officer. As a paramedic, Steve is always in and out of emergency rooms, often working in coordination with law enforcement to deal with uncooperative patients. So Bucky knows just how much drama and belligerence these guys have to deal with on the regular. 

“Hey,” he says sternly. “Don’t disrespect him. He’s just doing his job.” He’s not mean about it, but it’s verging on what Steve likes to call his “Dom” voice, and Bucky can see how it affects Mary. She freezes up, all of her focus on him. For a few seconds, she even forgets to be angry. Bucky takes the opportunity to step close to the bed. He eyes where she’s cuffed to the rail. “Mary,” he says gently. “I know you don’t want to be here. I know you’re angry.”

“You’re damn right I am,” she growls. “They just showed up and threw me in a cop car! Didn’t even give me a choice!”

Bucky reaches out and places his hand atop her cuffed wrist. It’s his metal hand. Her eyes widen when she sees it, but she doesn’t pull away. “I know,” Bucky says. “And I’m sorry it happened that way. But do you understand why people were concerned for your safety?”

Her face tenses up as she tries to hold back some emotion (something tells Bucky it isn’t anger, this time). “They called the cops,” she pouts. “They lied to me.”

“They did,” Bucky agrees, wanting to placate her. “But you were hurting yourself, honey. And you were talking about doing worse, weren’t you?”

She can’t meet his eyes, instead staring at where he’s holding her wrist. “I … I talked about a lot of things,” she mumbles. “It was just talk. I don't even remember half of it. I didn’t … I wasn’t really gonna do anything.”

“Can you show me where you hurt yourself?” Bucky asks, careful to keep his voice gentle. “I want to see how bad it is.”

Mary shivers, shaking her head sadly. Her hair is loose and hanging messy around her face, so Bucky reaches up to tuck it behind her ear. He hears her give a quiet, shaky inhale. “Come on now,” he coaxes. “Let me see.”

For a long moment, it seems like she won’t obey, but then her shoulders sink down and she takes a deep breath and lets it out, whispering a tiny little. “... kay,” as her hands creep down to take hold of the tee shirt she’s wearing. It’s extra large, going all the way to her knees, and it’s all she’s wearing. Bucky doesn’t know if the police brought her in that way, or if it’s something the hospital gave her to put on after being examined, but either way, he schools his expression as she edges the tee shirt up her leg, higher and higher, until it becomes apparent that she is wearing underwear, and she’s bared her hip to him.

Cutting, then.

Bucky looks her over, not as upset by the fresh cuts so much as the old ones. They litter the skin of her upper thigh and hip—some so old they’re scars, some still in various stages of healing. Bucky forces himself not to touch, even though his brain is screaming at him to fix fix fix! There’s nothing here that can be fixed easily—certainly not with a bandaid. Bucky takes a moment to calm himself down before he asks, “How long have you been doing this, honey?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she whispers. She shoves the tee shirt back down and meets his eyes. “Why are you here?”

Moment of truth, Bucky thinks. “The police called me. They got my number from your phone. They wanted to call your Dom to come get you.”

She frowns, looking confused. “But … you’re not—”

“Officer Santiago,” Bucky says quickly, cutting her off. “Could you give us a moment alone please?”

“Sure.” Santiago gets up and takes his bag of cakes with him. “Just a couple’a minutes,” he warns, then steps outside the curtain and pulls it shut. Bucky can see as his shoes walk away.

“You told them you were my Dom?!” Mary hisses.

Bucky looks at her sternly. “No. They assumed I was. You had me in your phone.”

“I … I did?”

Bucky’s mouth quirks. “Yeah, you did.”

“Well that doesn’t mean anything,” she huffs. “I’m not even submissive.”

“I think you know that’s not true,” Bucky says. He reaches up and gathers her hair back in one fist and pulls—gently, just enough to put the barest of pressure on her scalp—forcing her to raise her chin. She visibly reacts to it, softening into his grip, eyes slipping closed and features going slack. “You like that,” Bucky says, making it a statement rather than a question, because it’s obvious she does.

Her eyes open slowly. “S’nothing. It doesn’t mean anything.”

He releases her hair, cupping the back of her neck instead. He grips her firmly in his hand, and this time she nearly moans, lips parting and the sound coming out before she can fully stifle it. Bucky’s mouth curls and he hums. “And that? Is that ‘nothing’ too?”

“Please.” She’s having a hard time maintaining eye contact, which is typical. There’s a little pinch between her eyebrows that’s so sweet and needy, Bucky wants to kiss it. It makes her look like she might cry, and that thrills him too. “Please,” she whispers. “I just wanna go home.”

“You’re not going home, Honey,” he tells her, keeping the grip on her neck steady and petting at her hair with his other hand. She’s going down a little, likely so easily because of the alcohol in her system, because of how deprived she’s been until now. She whines a little at his words and he shushes her. “They won’t let you. You’re either gonna have to let me take you, or else stay here in the hospital, in the psych ward.”

Mary whimpers. “No.”

“Shhh,” he soothes. “I know. I don’t want that for you either, but you have to make the choice. If you want to leave here, then you have to sign the paperwork that gives me custody of you.” He tilts her chin up. “Look at me now, Honey.” She’s sluggish, so it takes a second, but her eyes come up as she obeys. They’re a little glossy, pupils blown wide, and Bucky gives her neck an encouraging squeeze. “Good girl,” he praises.

She practically melts at hearing that. “Please …” she says again. 

Bucky would bet money that she doesn’t know what she’s asking for. He does, though. He knows down to the marrow of his bones what a ‘please’ like that means. “Don’t worry, Doll. I’ll take care of you. I will.” He bends and pecks a kiss to her forehead, then steps away. She makes a weak noise of protest and he shushes her. 

“I’m just gonna go get officer Santiago back. … And my husband, Steve.”

She blinks at the word ‘husband’. “Steve?” she repeats, shoulders shrinking as she pulls into herself. “But—”

“It’s okay,” Bucky promises. “He’s a very nice man. You’ll like him.”

Mary looks unsure. Bucky’s glad she’s down, otherwise he’s fairly certain she’d be arguing by now, maybe even pitching a fit and cursing. Instead, what comes out of her mouth is a hesitant little, “... He’s like you?” 

“No. No he’s not designated. He’s—”

“Normal.” She says it so sadly, sounds so demoralized. Bucky has to fight the urge to correct her, to give her a speech about how, ‘just because they’re designated, it doesn’t make them abnormal’. He bites his tongue. What’s more important right now is that she’s making progress in accepting the reality that she’s almost certainly submissive.

“Yeah,” he says. “Steve’s not like us. But I wanted him to come in here and meet you. Do you think you can do that for me, Sweetie?” The pet names come naturally, are a part of his dynamic as a Dom, and Bucky can tell that she responds favorably to them. “Hm? Answer me, Mary.”

(And of course, the use of her name gets instant attention and obedience.)

“Okay,” she says. “Yes.”

He smiles and gives her a heartfelt, “Good girl,” wanting to show her that he’s pleased, that she’s doing well. “I’m gonna go get him, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Steve

Steve is equal parts excited and nervous to meet the woman Bucky has found, the woman they’re going to be taking care of. … Maybe more, if things work out. 

He holds Bucky’s hand as he’s led back to where the emergency room beds are. Bucky draws back the curtain and Steve sees the cop sitting there, looking bored, … and her.

“Oh,” he breathes. “Hey.”

She’s pretty—which is saying a lot, because that’s Steve’s first thought, despite the state of her. She’s got goo gobs of dark eye makeup that it looks like she put on once she was already drunk, and by now it’s been smeared to kingdom come by tears and her own hands. Her hair sits messy and unbrushed around her shoulders, and her eyes are glazed and tired from a high that’s probably going to wear off soon and leave her looking even more exhausted than she already does. 

“Hey,” Steve says, eyes flicking up and down her body where she’s sitting on the bed. She’s wearing nothing but a big tee shirt, and Steve allows himself one glance down at her shapely legs, then resolutely keeps his eyes trained upwards. She’s a disheveled mess, but even like that, Steve can see how she drew Bucky’s attention, that day in the café.

“Hi,” Mary says.

Steve smiles hopefully. By his side, Bucky squeezes his hand in encouragement, and offers, “Mary, this is Steve, my husband.”

Steve watches her face, curious to know what she thinks of Bucky being married. He’s expecting displeasure maybe, imagining that a submissive would feel jealous or upset, if their prospective Dom was already attached to someone else.

But she seems to stay calm, sitting there and taking Steve in with slow blinks, even looking a little bit shy herself. “... You’re big,” she eventually says. “I thought you’d be smaller than him.”

Steve grins and he hears Bucky’s scoffed, “Size has nothing to do with our dynamic.”

Steve knows he’s got half an inch on Bucky, more muscle mass too, but he’s never felt bigger than his husband. Bucky’s personality, his dominance, is larger than Steve.

Mary’s still staring at him, a thoughtful little pinch between her eyebrows. Steve waits in expectation of a question, but none comes. “What?” he asks. He pulls up the room’s extra plastic chair and sits close to the bed, offering her his hand. He’s surprised when she takes it. Steve stares thoughtfully at his hand as she drags her fingers over his fingers, his palm, still not saying anything. He looks over at Bucky, concerned. “Did they give her drugs?”

Thankfully, Bucky chuckles and shakes his head. “She’s down,” he explains.

Oh. Okay. That’d explain her calm affect. Steve had come in here halfway expecting a screaming hellcat. He hadn’t expected this. He turns back to Mary, giving her a friendly look. “Did you have questions you wanted to ask me?”

She bites her lip, clearly working something out in her head. “Bucky said you two have a ‘dynamic’.”

“He did.”

“But he said you’re normal.”

Steve’s lips thin once he figures out what she means. “We’re all normal,” he scolds. “But no, I don’t have ‘Dominant or Submissive Personality Disorder’, if that’s what you mean.” He puts sarcastic quotes around words to clearly convey his distaste for the classification. He wants her to know how ridiculous he finds it.

“Babe,” Bucky warns quietly from behind. “We’re not getting political right now, okay? Just focus on her, on what we have to do.”

“Right, sorry.” He knows that Bucky’s right, so he tries again, telling Mary, “I’m ‘normal’, but Bucky and I still have a very intimate relationship together. We’re husbands. So yeah, we’ve developed our own dynamic. When I’m with him I tend to follow his lead, so to speak.” He smiles and shrugs. “It works for us.”

Mary looks like she’s thinking this new information over. There’s a slowness to her, a dreaminess in her expressions and her reactions.Steve figures it’s a combination of her being down, and not being sober. In fact, he can smell the vodka leaking out of her pores. It’s actually pretty horrible. “So does that make sense?” he prods her gently. “Mary?”

“… Yeah, I think so.” She eyes him up and down, looking back and forth between him and Bucky. “What will you do?” she asks Steve. She blushes a little from asking the question, so he deduces that she’s asking what he’ll do with her; what their dynamic together will be, outside of her and Bucky.

“I’ll take care of you,” he says, because that’s all he knows for sure, and he wants her to feel safe. Steve knows that it’s absolutely crucial for this woman to feel safe right now, if they’re going to take her home with them. “Bucky and I both will.” He holds her hand—the one that isn’t cuffed to the bed—enveloping it between his. “It’ll be much better than staying here,” he promises. “You’ll be so safe. And much happier.”

Mary’s body draws in, seems to actually get smaller as she pulls back into herself. “I’m never happy,” she says mournfully. It hurts Steve’s heart to see it, so he knows it must be killing Bucky, given his overly protective instincts. Steve glances over at him. “Babe?”

Bucky has a clipboard full of papers, which Steve knows must be the custody orders. “Here, Honey,” he tells Mary, handing her the clipboard and the pen. “This is what you have to sign to be able to come home with us.”

It kind of bothers Steve that Bucky doesn’t encourage her to read through the documents more thoroughly, but he doesn’t say anything because he knows they have only the best intentions for her. She’ll be safe with them. He watches as she signs her signature in the places Bucky points out, trying to scan some of the fine print as she goes. Anxiety is written across her face and she starts to bite at the chapped skin on her bottom lip. “But, um … what if I’m not what you think?” she worried, not looking at either of them. 

Bucky pets her hair and reassures her. “You are, sweetheart. Trust me. And we’re gonna take you to a therapist anyway, to get an official diagnosis.”

Normally Steve would be scoffing at the word “diagnosis,” but he’s too busy watching the two of them together. There’s a strange feeling in his gut, at seeing his husband touch Mary like that, at hearing him call her pet names and calmly take control of her. Steve’s never seen Bucky dom another person before, and he … he kind of doesn’t hate it. In fact, it’s actually making him feel all the more attracted to Bucky, and curious about Mary. Like he wants to help, wants to get to know her.

She signs the rest of the documents without making a fuss, so Steve figures he’ll be getting that chance.

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

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[ravenromanova]

Winter Widow Masterlist

Hello my loves❤️🖤 welcome to the materlist for my story The Winter Widow! This story was originally going to be put on wattpad and have like 50 chapters. BUT i decided to do around 20 chapters and just make those longer on here. I will try to post two chapters a time when i do upload but don’t hold me to that lmao. But here you’ll find all the chapters linked down below to make it easier to find. I hope you enjoy the story and love it as much as i do.

Summary: Lilith Rose was taken by The Red Room when she was 9 years old. She was given to them by her parents who were in debt to Dreykov. Given the serum she was 15 Lilith was trained to be the best female assassin in the world. She was eventually trained by no other than The Winter Solider. Her and The solider got close until he left one day fro a mission and she never saw him again. What happens when she wakes up? will Lilith ever see the solider again

Warning’s for this series: Heavy violence (blood, beatings, alluding to sexual assault, use of guns and knives) Lots of angst, Mentions of the red room (slight mentions of mental and physical abuse and experimentation along with brainwashing) Lilith suffers from a plethora of mental illnesses (Ptsd, Depression, Anxiety And BPD) SMUT! 18+!!!! (Later chapters) Ill add more when they come.

ON HIATUS

Mood Boards

Where it all started

Gotta be good enough

Hello solider

Party time

chapter 5

chapter 6

chapter 7

chapter 8

chapter 9

chapter 10

chapter 11

chapter 12

chapter 13

chapter 14

chapter 15

chapter 16

chapter 17

chapter 18

chapter 19

chapter 20

chapter 21

chapter 22

chapter 23

chapter 24

chapter 25

[buckyssoldat]

Chapter 53: Desire

Warnings: smut, strong language, alcohol abuse, agression/confrontation, depression, violence/harassment, grief

A/N: This is part of my series, Forsaken - The Fallen Soldier. If you wanna be tagged in this, just send me an ask or a message. Feedback is always appreciated, don’t be shy to share your thoughts on this :)

Closer I get

Can you resist?

It's relentless

It's why

It had been a year since the Snap. Despite still grappling with the profound loss and devastation brought by Thanos’s actions, Alice tried to rebuild her life and forge a new path. She started working in a small coffee shop that was near her apartment.

Her days were always the same – wake up, work for eight hours, go home, sleep, repeat it all over again. It was a boring routine, but it brought her some kind of comfort and sense of purpose. Having a routine was good for her, but she would occasionally fall off the wagon – getting drunk and crying until the early hours of morning was something that happened at least once a month.

Those nights when she felt helpless and depressed usually consisted of the same thing – it was either drinking in her apartment, or going out to a club, flirt with someone and then bring them home for a night of meaningless sex. It wasn’t healthy, but at least it helped forget everything, even if it was just for a few hours.

Luckily for her (or not), no one from the team had tried to contact her during all those months. Not even Steve or Natasha. That shocked her to a certain point, but then she also realized that she didn’t try to contact any of them. Maybe it’s better this way, she always tried to reassure herself, but the truth was, she missed them. She missed everyone that was gone and everyone that was still alive, but she felt as if there was nothing she could do to change it. Sure she could pick up the phone and call them, or even swing by the compound, or Steve’s apartment, but pride got in her way. Maybe in a few weeks she would call them.

As Alice wiped down the counter, a man stormed into the coffee shop. As soon as he saw her, his face twisted with anger. He marched up to the counter, his steps heavy with purpose and slammed his fist down with a loud thud.

“It’s you!” he exclaimed, pointing a finger at Alice. “You’re one of them, aren’t you? One of those Avengers who failed to stop Thanos!”

Alice froze, taken aback by the sudden hostility. For all those months she had been working at the coffee shop, no one had recognized her, of if someone did, never said anything about it.

“I… I’m sorry, sir,” she stammered, her heart pounding in her chest. “I’m really sorry…”

“It’s because of you that my wife and daughter are gone!” he screamed at her. As the man’s accusations pierced through her, Alice’s heart sank, the weight of his words heavy on her shoulders. “I lost everyone I love!”

She took a deep breath, steadying herself as she met his gaze with a mixture of sadness and defeat. “I’m sorry,” Alice said softly, her voice filled with sorrow. “You’re right,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I was an Avenger. And I can’t help but feel responsible for what happened.”

The man’s eyes widened in surprise, as if he hadn’t expected her to admit to her guilt. But Alice refused to hide from the truth, refused to deny the weight of the burden she carried.

“I fought alongside my friends, alongside people who were willing to sacrifice everything to save the world, alongside the man I loved,” she continued, her voice trembling with emotion. “But no matter how hard we tried, no matter how many battles we fought, we couldn’t stop Thanos. And now… now half of the universe is gone because of it. I understand how you feel and I’m really sorry, sir.” As she spoke, she could feel the weight of the man’s accusations begin to lift, replaced by a newfound understanding.

But instead of softening, the man’s expression hardened, his anger burning bright in his eyes.

“Understanding won’t bring them back,” he said, his voice cold and unforgiving. “Apologies won’t change what’s been done. You may have been a hero once, but now… now you’re nothing but a failure.”

Alice flinched at his words, feeling the sting of his condemnation like a knife to her heart.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I’m so sorry…”

But the man turned away, his back rigid with anger and sorrow. And as Alice watched him go, a tear slipped down her cheek, carrying with it the weight of her regrets. She knew she couldn’t undo the past, couldn’t change what had been done. All she could do was carry the burden of her failures, and pray that someday, somehow, she would find a way to make things right.

As soon as Alice’s shift was over, she quickly said goodbye to her colleagues and left. She couldn’t forget the pain and anger that man felt earlier that day. No matter how hard she tried to focus on her job, his words remained on her brain, like an echo. She knew what would help her take her mind off those troubles – a night of going out, heavy drinking, and maybe meaningless sex. She wanted to feel nothing, at least for one night.

As soon as she arrived at her apartment, she took her work clothes off and put on a tight black dress with spaghetti straps that showed her cleavage. After putting on some black heels, she grabbed a bottle of Asgardian liquor, something that she mixed with the drinks she ordered at the bars to help her get drunk quicker.

Once she was at ‘Tooker Alley’ in Brooklyn, she made her way to the stools in front of the bar.

“Hey Rina,” she greeted the bartender, whom she already knew from her nights of drinking.

Rina glanced up from polishing a glass, a knowing look in her eyes as she saw Alice approach. “Hey Alice,” she replied with a half-smile. “The usual tonight?”

Alice nodded, a faint smile playing on her lips. “Yeah, hit me with something strong, Rina. I desperately need it tonight.”

With a word, Rina reach for the whiskey, pouring a generous amount into a glass before sliding it over to her. Alice then poured some of her Asgardian liquor. “Rough day?”

Alice sighed, taking a sip of the drink. “I guess you could say that,” she muttered, her gaze distant as she stared into the golden liquid. “I don’t get into it right now.”

Rina nodded in understanding, her gaze lingering on her for a moment longer before she turned to tend to another customer down the bar.

Alone with her thoughts, Alice let herself drown in the numbing embrace of the alcohol, letting it wash away the guilt and sorrow, if only for a little while. She knew it wasn’t a solution, knew it wouldn’t fix anything, but at that moment, she just needed a break from it all.

“Is this seat taken?”

She turned to see Steve Rogers standing there, a small smile on his face. Surprise flashed through her eyes, quickly followed by a mix of emotions – joy, sadness, longing – all swirling together.

“Steve…” she breathed, her voice barely a whisper, as if unsure whether he was real or just a figment of her imagination.

He took her silence as an invitation and slid onto the stool beside her. “Mind if I join you?”

Alice shook her head, still trying to process his sudden appearance. They hadn’t seen or spoken to each other for over a year. “No, not at all. I just… I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Steve chuckled softly, a melancholic look in his eyes. “Funny how life works sometimes, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Alice agreed, her heart pounding in her chest. “Funny.”

They sat in silent for a few minutes, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air between them. It had been so long since they last saw each other, since they had a huge fight.

“Look, I just wanna say I’m sorry,” Steve finally said, breaking the silence. “I took things too far last time. You didn’t deserve it.”

Alice looked at him, surprised by his apology. “Yeah, it was rough. But I was stubborn, too. You were just looking out for me, and I pushed you away, like I always do.”

Steve nodded, a remorseful expression softening his features. “I know I can be overprotective sometimes, especially when I’m worried about some I care about. But that’s no excuse for the way I acted. I should have listened to you instead of trying to force my own opinions onto you.”

Alice reached for her drink, swirling the liquid in her glass. “And I should have been more open with you, Steve. I should have let you in instead of shutting you out. I’m sorry too.”

Silence settled between them once more, heavy with the weight of their past mistakes and regrets. But there was also a hint of something else – a flicker of hope, perhaps, that they could move past their differences and find a way to reconcile.

“I miss you, Steve,” Alice admitted quietly, her voice tinged with sadness. “I miss having you by my side.”

A pang of longing shot through Steve’s chest at her words, the memory of their time together flooding his mind. “I miss you too, Alice,” he confessed. “More than you know.”

For a moment, they simply sat there, lost in their own thoughts, their hearts heavy with the weight of what could have been. But then Steve reached out and took her in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Maybe it’s not too late for us, Alice,” he said softly, his eyes searching hers with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. “Maybe we can find a way to move forward, together.”

Alice met his gaze, her heart fluttering in her chest at the prospect of a second chance. “I’d like that,” she whispered, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “I’d like that a lot. I miss my best friend.”

Steve’s heart sank when he heard her say ‘best friend’. He thought he was being obvious telling her that he missed her more than she knew. He thought she realized what he meant with that but guess not.

As Alice saw the disappointment in Steve’s eyes, she cursed herself. Maybe she said something that made Steve feel uncomfortable. But she couldn’t let this moment slip away without trying to salvage their friendship.

“Steve,” she began, her voice soft but determined. “I know we’ve both made mistakes, and I know things won’t be easy. But I don’t want to lose you again. You mean a lot to me.”

Steve’s expression softened, a glimmer of hope returning to his eyes. “Alice…”

“You’re my best friend, Steve,” she continued, her voice steady. “You’re the person I care the most about in the world and I love you.”

His breath caught his throat, the weight of her words sinking in. “You do?”

“Of course I love you,” she replied with a smile. “You’re my best friend, my person.”

“Oh,” Steve said with a sad tone that he tried to hide. “I love you too, Alice.”

“Good. So, how about we lighten the mood a bit?” she suggested.

Alice motioned to Rina and ordered a round of drinks, making sure to pour a bit of Asgardian liquor in each drink. As they sipped their whiskeys and chatted, Alice subtly encouraged Steve to have another, and then another, until a warm buzz settled over them both.

With Steve’s inhibitions lowered, Alice saw her change to suggest something a little more adventurous, something she always wanted to do with him. “How about we leave this place and go to a club to dance the night away?” she proposed, her voice laced with enthusiasm.

Steve’s smile faltered slightly, uncertainty flashing in his eyes. “I don’t know, Alice. Going to a club… it’s not really my scene.”

“Come on, Steve,” she urged, her tone playful. “Just this once, please! It’ll be fun, I promise.”

Steve hesitated for a moment longer, his gaze searching hers. But then, with a resigned sigh, he relented. “Alright, Alice. For you.” He didn’t know if it was the alcohol coursing through his veins, or his feelings for Alice that made him accept go to a club, something he had never done before.

A spark of excitement ignited in Alice’s chest as she took his arm in hers, a mischievous smile spreading across her face. “Great! You won’t regret it, I promise!”

Alice led the way out of the bar and into the night, hopeful that this adventure would be just what they needed to rebuild their friendship and find happiness once more.

As they entered the club, the thumping bass and flashing lights engulfed them. Alice couldn’t contain her excitement as she led Steve to the bar, her anticipation palpable.

“Let’s grab a drink,” Alice suggested, her voice barely audible over the music.

Steve nodded in agreement, relieved for the chance to ease into the club scene. They found an empty spot at the bar and ordered their drinks, the clinking of glasses and chatter of the crowd enveloping them.

With their drinks in hand, Alice turned to Steve with a grin. “Here’s to new beginnings,” she said, raising her glass in a toast.

Steve smiled at her. “To new beginnings,” he echoed, clinking his glass against hers before taking a sip.

The warmth of the alcohol spread through them, loosening their inhibitions. Alice couldn’t wait to hit the dance floor, but as she glanced at Steve, she noticed a hint of hesitation in his eyes.

“You ready to dance?” Alice asked, her voice filled with anticipation.

Steve hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering between Alice and the dance floor. “I’m not sure, Alice. I think it might be a bit too much for me.”

Alice chuckled, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “Come on, it’s okay. No one’s gonna be looking at you.”

“I think I’ll just watch for now,” Steve admitted, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Alice smiled understandingly, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. “That’s okay. You do you. I’ll be on the dance floor if you change your mind.”

With a parting smile, Alice moved away from Steve and onto the dance floor, her hips swaying to the rhythm of the music. She closed her eyes, losing herself in the pulsating beat as she danced with freedom.

Steve watched from the bar, his heart racing as he took in the sight of Alice dancing alone. She moved with a beauty and sexiness that mesmerized him, her energy infectious and intoxicating.

As the music swelled and the lights danced across her skin, Steve felt a warmth spread through him – a warmth that had nothing to do with the alcohol in his hand. He couldn’t tear his eyes from her, couldn’t deny the surge of admiration and desire that coursed through him.

Feeling a surge of determination and courage, Steve set his glass down and made his way onto the dance floor, his heart pounding with a mixture of nerves and excitement. As he approached Alice, she turned to him with a bright smile, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

“Steve, you made it!” she exclaimed, reaching out to take his hand.

Steve returned her smile, his nerves momentarily forgotten in the warmth of her presence. “Couldn’t let you have all the fun,” he replied, trying to sound more confident than he felt.

As the music pulsed around them, Alice took Steve’s hand and placed it on her waist, guiding his other hand into position. Steve stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do next, until Alice let out a laugh.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, a hint of self-consciousness creeping into his voice.

Alice shook her head, her laughter infectious. “You, Steve! You dance like it’s the 40s!”

Steve felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment, but before he could respond, Alice had already closed the distance between them, her arms wrapping around his neck as she pulled him closer.

“Relax, Cap,” she whispered, her breath warm against his ear. “Just follow my lead.”

With Alice’s guidance, Steve found himself moving to the rhythm of the music, his body slowly loosening up as he surrendered to the moment. At first, he felt clumsy and out of place, but as Alice pressed her body against his, he began to find his rhythm, moving in sync with her with a newfound confidence.

“This is nice,” he said into her ear.

“Yeah, it’s very nice,” she replied to him, staring at his lips. She didn’t know if it was the alcohol, or if it was the loneliness, but she wanted to kiss Steve.

Suddenly, Alice leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his as she closed the distance between them in a gentle, passionate kiss. Steve’s heart skipped a beat as he responded eagerly, the warmth of her touch sending shivers down his spine.

As they kissed, a surge of electricity coursed through Steve’s veins, igniting a fire within him that he hadn’t felt in a long time. His hands instinctively found their way to Alice’s waist, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss.

Alice’s hands roamed over Steve’s back, her touch igniting a primal desire within him. As their bodies moved in sync with the music, their kiss grew more fervent, more passionate, until they were lost in a whirlwind of desire.

But just as Steve’s mind began to cloud with lust, Alice suddenly squeezed his ass, making him pull away from the kiss.

“That really is America’s ass,” she teased, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Steve couldn’t help but laugh at her comment, the tension between them momentarily broken. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” he replied, his voice tinged with amusement.

With a playful smile, Alice leaned in to kiss him once more, her lips tasting of whiskey. As the night wore on, their dance grew more intimate, their bodies pressed together as they moved as one.

Alice whispered in Steve’s ear, her voice husky with desire. “Do you wanna get out of here?” she asked, her lips brushing against his skin.

Steve’s heart raced at the suggestion, his mind buzzing with anticipation. “I’d like that,” he replied. “My place is just a few blocks away.”

With a shared smile, Alice took Steve’s hand in hers, leading him off the dance floor and out into the night. The cool air brushed against their skin as Alice and Steve walked hand in hand through the dimly lit streets. The silence between them was charged with anticipation, each step bringing them closer to Steve’s apartment.

As they reached his building, Steve fumbled with his keys for a moment before finally unlocking the door. He led Alice inside, the air thick with tension as they stepped into the warmth of his apartment.

Once inside, a sense of awkwardness settled over them, the weight of their desire hanging heavy in the air. Steve cleared his throat, breaking the silence as he offered Alice something to drink.

“Um, do you want something to drink? I have water, beer, uh, whiskey?” he stammered, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Alice smiled reassuringly, her nerves matching his. “Water would be great, thanks,” she replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

As Steve disappeared into the kitchen, Alice took a moment to compose herself, her heart racing. She couldn’t believe she was there, in Steve’s apartment, about to spend the night with him. It felt so surreal that she started to question if it was a good idea to probably ruin her friendship with Steve just because she was lonely and horny. But that was something they would worry about the next day. Taking a deep breath to compose herself, she quickly took off her dress, leaving her only in a red lacy bra with matching panties.

When Steve returned, carrying two glasses of water, his breath caught in his throat, and he almost dropped the glasses on the floor. Alice was wearing only her underwear, her skin glowing in the soft light of the apartment.

Steve’s eyes widened in surprise, his cheeks flushing with heat as he tried to tear his gaze away, which seemed to be impossible at that moment. As he set the glasses down on the coffee table before sinking onto the couch beside her, Alice seemed unfazed.

“Here you go,” he said, handing her a glass of water.

“You okay over there, Steve?” Alice asked him with a grin, her gaze fixed on his groin.

Steve grabbed his glass with trembling hands, his mind reeling with desire. “It’s, uh, it’s… Uh, I’m sorry,” he managed to choke out, his voice barely above a whisper.

Alice grabbed his hands and made him put down the glass on the coffee table. She then leaned in closer, her lips hovering just inches from his.

“Shall we continue what we were doing back at the club?” she whispered while brushing her lips against his.

Steve didn’t answer her. Instead, he put his hands on her hips and pulled her closer to him, kissing her passionately.

“You’re way too overdressed,” she murmured between kisses as she started to unbutton his shirt. They stopped kissing for Steve to take off his shirt and throw it away somewhere in the living room. Alice kissed his neck and then all the way down to his abs, making Steve’s breath hitch.

He pushed her down on the couch, lying on top of here while they continued kissing. Alice finally made the first move – she unbuckled his belt and put her right hand inside his boxers, feeling his throbbing member around her hand. She wrapped her hand around it, slowly moving it up and down.

Steve let out a loud moan, which made Alice want him even more. But just as the flames of desire threatened to consume him, Steve pulled away. “Maybe we should take this to the bedroom,” he whispered, his voice husky with lust.

With a shared smile, they rose from the couch and made their way to the bedroom, their hands intertwined.

Once they got there, Alice pushed Steve onto the bed and got on top of him. They continued to passionate kiss each other, while she tried to take off his pants at the same time. Sensing her frustration, Steve helped her get his pants off. She then smiled at him and took off her bra, showing him her breasts. He stared at them for a few seconds until he put his hands on them, massaging them. He then took one of her nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. Alice had her hands wrapped around his neck, pulling his hair due to the pleasure he was giving to her.

As he played with her nipples, she started to rock her hips against him, making both feel pleasure. They continued this for a few minutes, until Alice finally decided it was enough and she needed more. She got up and took off her panties and then Steve’s boxers. He was absolutely mesmerized by her beauty, which made her smile.

Grabbing his dick with one hand and using the other to help her sit down, she guided it into her entrance and started jumping up and down. Steve let out a moan with pleasure, which made Alice quicken her pace. Putting her hands on her hips, he started to guide her, quickening the pace even more.

Soon, the room was filled with the sound of moans and hitched breaths as both searched their highs.

“Steve…” she moaned as she threw her head back with pleasure.

Steve reached his climax first, but Alice kept bouncing up and down, trying to orgasm. Not even a few seconds later, she screamed his name in pleasure as she climaxed. “Steve!” She pushed him down on the bed, her lying on top with him still inside her. They ended up falling asleep in that position, holding each other.

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room as Steve stirred awake. He blinked sleepily, his mind still fuzzy with the remnants of dreams as stared at Alice, who was sleeping on his chest. He looked down and noticed he was still inside her, the exact same way they fell asleep the previous night. Trying not to get aroused again, he slowly lifted her up and lied her down next to him.

Carefully, so as not to wake her up, Steve slid out of bed, put on his boxers, and made his way to the kitchen. He brewed a pot of coffee, the rich aroma filling the air as he prepared breakfast.

As the smell of coffee floated through the apartment, Alice stirred awake, her eyes fluttering open as she stretched out. She felt the pain in her muscles as she stretched out, due to the previous night’s occurrence. Grabbing one of Steve’s t-shirts and putting it on, she made her way to the kitchen.

“Morning,” Steve greeted her with a smile, pouring her a cup of coffee.

“Morning,” Alice replied, her voice husky with sleep as she sat in one of the chairs. She took a sip of the coffee, sighing contentedly at the warmth that spread through her.

They sat in comfortable silence as they drank their coffee, basking in each other’s company as they savoured the quiet moments of the morning.

Eventually, Steve broke the silence, his voice soft as he spoke. “Last night was… incredible,” he said, his gaze meeting Alice’s.

Alice smiled, reaching out to take his hand in hers. “Yeah, it was,” she agreed, her mind swelling with happiness at the thought of the night they had shared.

“So…” he stared, unsure of what to say. “What does last night mean to you?”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything, Steve,” she started. “We both felt lonely, and we were there for each other. You and me together, it feels like the right thing to do.”

Steve smiled, a tender look in his eyes. “I know we’ve both been through a lot, and I don’t want to rush into anything. But I can’t deny how last night felt to me, Alice. I haven’t felt that way in a long time.”

“Me too, Steve,” she agreed with him.

As they looked ahead to the future, Steve and Alice knew that they had found something special in each other – a stable relationship that made him feel not so lonely anymore. Both knew that the love of their lives would always be Bucky and Peggy, but they were gone and there was nothing they could do. All they could do was move on and doing that together seemed like the right choice.

tags: ​​​​​​​​​​​​​​@capswife

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masterlist

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Random Thought: Bucky Barnes

Nightmares

Bucky has very bad nightmares.

It’s just normal for him at this point and he’s gotten used to waking up every night at some point, with a horrible nightmare.

The nightmares had made him a bit self conscious about being with you. You had slept together quite a few times but Bucky always left before the end of the night and it took him a while to realize it bothered you. Not realizing that it made you feel like he only wanted to sleep with you, he kept it up for a while. It was nearly a month before you told him how you felt and he swears he felt his heart break in that moment at seeing your sweet face afraid he was only into you for sex

He quickly broke down and told you the truth and you were very understanding. He didn’t think you wouldn’t be but he was embarrassed that he was a grown man having debilitating nightmares. You reassured him though, swearing that after everything the Sergeant had been through that it was more than understandable and that even people who haven’t been through horrific trauma have nightmares sometimes.

You convinced him to stay that night and it was the first time in a very long time that he slept in a bed. It was odd for him but holding you as you fell asleep actually assisted him in drifting off on the foreign feeling plush mattress. He did have a nightmare that night and you were awoken to the sound of him mumbling quietly, the words all being Russian meaning you couldn’t understand but it didn’t matter. You pulled his head to your chest and ran your fingers through his hair, jostling him as you did to ensure you woke him and the mumbling stopped as you ran your nails across his scalp and whispered sweet words to him as his eyes opened. He didn’t jump up or startle himself awake like he had told you, he woke gradually and calmly which was more than he had ever done before since being free and he clung to you tightly, face in your neck as he relaxed and actually drifted back off to sleep quite quickly. After that he slept through the rest of the night, staying asleep until his alarm went off at 7:00am.

You quickly changed his sleeping habits! You refused to continue to be awoken by a god awful alarm at 7 in the fucking morning so Bucky ditched the alarm, only waking early when he needed to, coming to very much enjoy sleeping in with you and having sleepy/snuggle days.

Sleepy days in bed or on the couch with you became his favorite kinds of days, not because of how often you would have sex but because you gave him something he hadn’t had since he was a child. Naps!

Bucky Barnes hadn’t had a nap since 1928 when he was 11 years old. It was very rare that he had a nightmare when he napped beside you but when he did, there you were to scratch your nails along his head and tell him that he was safe beside you like you did every night.

He had nightmares every night when he slept on missions, though there was rarely a time for sleep at that point. When he was in the field and he got some shut eye the nightmares always came crawling back, probably having something to do with being in an unsafe environment once again.

It didn’t take long for you both to decide him sleeping with you was actually helpful for not just his recovery but his overall mental state and he moved into your apartment. You were relieved as he would have access to a bed to sleep in every night, being appalled and outraged that Bucky didn’t have a fucking bed in his apartment.

The nightmares never went away and he didn’t think they ever would completely but they did lessen. So much so that he went an entire week once without having a single nightmare and you for sure celebrated that. They may never be gone but they’re getting better and Bucky is comforted in knowing that when he has a nightmare he will never again be alone for it

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Random Thoughts

[buckysqueen80]

Warning: smut, artistic expression

Red Strokes

I stood in front of the canvas, just staring at it, not sure what I was going to do with it. I had visions dancing around in my mind, but every time I looked down at the paints, and back up to the canvas, what I was originally wanting to paint skipped away.

Sighing in frustration, I covered the paints and put the brushes away.

I would have covered up the canvas before leaving, had I been able to start something, considering I was always very protective of letting anyone see my work before it was ready (sometimes that didn’t happen at all, and the canvases got dissolved of the work that was on them, the paint thinner running down on the floor to the drain.)

I went to the one corner of my studio, where my bedroom was, flinging open my closet door, and rummaged around for my favourite oversized sweater, flinging my tank top aside and removed my shorts to wiggle into a pair of skinny jeans, and threw the sweater over my head, picking up my hair that had fallen out of my messy bun, and pulled it back into a wavy mess of a ponytail.

I grabbed my bag, making sure my wallet, keys and phone were in it, before darting out of the apartment.

I didn’t really know where I was going, but the first thing I needed was coffee.

I ran down the steps and walked down the street, turning the corner, heading to the cafe that was just around the corner.

I took my place in line, tilting my head to the side, looking at all the pastries that they had out on display. It was then that my stomach decided to remind me that I hadn’t eaten yet that morning. When it was my turn to order, I went to open my mouth, and before I could say anything, someone came to stand beside me on my right, putting their order in first.

“Large, two cream, three sugar please. And can you please put it on my tab, I have to go!” said the deep baritone voice.

Feeling a sense of disbelief that they would cut in front of me, I turned to my right, a barb set on my tongue to unleash on him, when it felt like the wind was knocked out of me.

There stood a tall man, very well built, dark chestnut brown hair, beautiful cerulean blue eyes that shone with the promise of mischief when they looked back at me, and a perfect set of lush pink lips.

Feeling like I had to swallow to wet my suddenly dry throat, I took a breath to speak but was cut off before I could start.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to cut in front of you, and I apologize. I just have to run, I’ve been paged and really have to go. I hope you understand?” the man said.

“Ssure! Not a problem.” I whispered, completely in awe of him.

Sensing that I was staring at him, he turned back to me when he got his coffee, tilting his head at me.

“When I get back into town, I would like to make it up to you, if you’d let me? Say dinner?” he said.

“I, um, sure, that would be nice.” I said, turning to quickly place my order.

The man waited until I got my order, and followed me back onto the street.

“I thought you had to go?” I comment, giving him a side eye.

“Well I didn’t want to just leave after basically asking you out without getting your contact details. If you want to give me your number, I can call you when I’m back, and we can set up a time to go out?” he said, taking his phone out and opening it to the contacts list, handing it to you on a blank contact.

“Sure!” I said, taking the phone and plugging in my details, and then saving it before handing it back to him.

Looking down at his phone, a huge smile crept upon his lips.

“Isabella? That’s a beautiful name, for a beautiful woman.” he said, his voice dropping down a bit, sending butterflies erupting in my stomach at the way my name sounded coming from his lips.

“Y-yeah!” was all I could muster, while looking down at the ground.

“Well Isabella, I’m James, but those close to me call me Bucky!” he said, extending his hand towards me, as I placed mine in his, electricity snaking through my skin, as a blush crept up my neck and burned my cheeks.

“Nice to meet you, Bucky!” I said, shaking his hand, a sudden spurt of inspiration, hitting me.

Pulling my hand away, I backed up a pace, turning my head to look back in the direction of home, before turning back to Bucky.

“I um.. You said… There’s something I need to get back to, and you said you needed to go, right?” I said, trying to calm down a bit.

I watched his face fall a bit, not realizing that my sudden attempt to leave was coming off as not wanting to be around him.

“Text me or call me when you get back into town, and we can go from there?” I said, an air of excitement in my voice, both at the fact of seeing him again, but also to get back to my canvas.

I watched as he took his phone, and started typing a message. Suddenly my phone dinged.

I looked down at it and saw a message from an unknown number.

“Hi, it’s me, Bucky! 🙂”

I couldn’t help but smile, as I quickly replied back.

“Hello it’s me, Bucky! 🙂 It’s me Isabella, but you know that cos I’m in your phone already 🤦”

As soon as I hit send, his phone went and dinged.

The most beautiful sound I had ever heard came from that man.

How is it that everything about him seemed amazing on the surface?

Shaking my head to clear thoughts, I smiled back at him.

“Perfect, I’ll call you when I’m back in town. I can’t wait!” he said, turning partially to take a step in the direction he needed to go.

“I can’t wait! Take care!” I say, giving a bit of a wave before turning to head back to the studio.

Once I got back into the apartment, I changed back into free fitting clothes (hate feeling restricted when I work), and took my hair from the ponytail and put it back into a messy bun.

I set my coffee cup on the table, turning to all the paint containers, taking the lids off, and grabbing a handful of brushes.

I grabbed my pallet, before looking back at my paints, grabbing various shades of red, squeezing the tubes onto the pallet.

Dipping my brush into the paint, I turned back to the canvas, taking a large stroke, followed by several others, letting out a breath I didn’t realise I’d been holding when I started.

I continued painting, the paint and the strokes flowing freely over the canvas.

I didn’t stop until I took a step back, setting my pallet and brush down, only just noticing that the sun had started to set, casting shadows across the floor.

I looked at the canvas, content with what I had created.

Normally, once I had completed a painting, I was tapped out of creativity until the next time inspiration struck.

However that was not the case currently.

There were so many thoughts in my head going on, that I put that canvas off to the side to dry, and hauled up another one, cleaning my brush, setting it aside to let it dry, grabbing a new brush, dipping it into the new paint I set out.

This time, the strokes came quicker, smoother, the different shades of red marking the canvas, giving almost a foreboding feeling, but I couldn’t help it, the tone was there, deep and dark, my mind already racing with another idea to paint.

I continued to paint for several more hours. Producing several pieces that I was pretty proud of.

I sat down on the couch, pulling out my phone, checking to see if there had been anything else from Bucky.

Messages: 0

Oh well, maybe he’s busy.

I opened my phone to my messages, scrolling down until I found the thread I had going with my best friend and my manager.

I hit dial, putting the phone on speaker and wait for the endless rings to stop before a voice came on the line.

“Hi! You’ve reached Carla. I can’t come to the phone right now. Please leave your name and number and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible. And if this is Jimmy… you can forget my number!!”

Beep!

“Hey Bitch! You better not be screening your calls from me!? Anyyyyhooo! I figured I’d give you a shout. I know you’ve been hounding me for some new pieces for a show you’ve got coming up, and I’m happy to tell you…. Oh, hold on…”

I pulled the phone away to see who was calling me, only for my smile to grow wider when I saw it was you calling me back.

I hit the end call button and answer the incoming call.

“I was just leaving you a message, Girl! How’s it going?” I asked, leaning back against the couch.

“It’s going okay. How’s it going with you? Hmmmm” she asked, and I knew by the tone, she was on the other end being her charming self, while wiggling her eyebrows.

“It’s going fine. Actually it’s going better than fine. I had inspiration hit me today. Well it didn’t hit until after I ran into the most beautiful man ever to possibly exist. And then when it did hit, it hit me hard!” I said, not paying attention to how I worded that.

“Oh! Really? A beautiful man gave you inspiration? That’s amazing…… Does this beautiful man have a name by chance? Or were you your awkward self again and didn’t get a name?” she all but squealed, her tone teasing.

I could feel my cheeks grow warm at what she said, and frankly at how I worded it.

“It wasn’t like that, to be honest. I went to the coffee shop when I couldn’t get any sort of inspiration, and when it was my turn to place my order, he cut in line placing his order first. Said he had to get going, that he was called away.” I said, trailing back to the interaction.

“Okayyyyyy, but did you get a name? Tell me you got the name of the man who clearly has your attention? What does he look like? How tall? Gimme the details woman!!” she begged.

“Yes I got his name!” I said, chewing on my bottom lip, debating if I should tell her just his first name, or the nickname that he told me.

“Well???” she said, sensing my hesitation.

“It’s James.” I said, going with the safer option. I don’t know why but I felt protective of him and his privacy all of a sudden.

“Okay, and what does James look like? I’m not going to let this go until you tell me!!!” she said persistently.

“Don’t you even want to know what the sudden inspiration produced?” I asked her, trying to steer the conversation away from Bucky.

“Oh! Yes!” she said squealing at the fact that she would have some of my new work to sell at the exhibit a week from today.

I stayed on the phone with her for about another hour, taking pictures of the pieces I had created, listening to her reaction when she got the photos. Basically setting everything up for the exhibit.

When I finally hung up the call, my phone dinged in my hand.

I looked down at it and suddenly felt a huge smile on my face.

Bucky:

“I’ll be back in town by the end of the week. If you’re still up for having dinner with me, text me your address and I’ll pick you up Friday @ 7pm. Wear something nice and comfortable. I can’t wait to see you again 🙂”

I couldn’t help but hug my phone to my chest, excited that this was actually going to happen.

Isabella:

“Define nice and comfortable? That could mean my nicest silk pajamas. Where are we going so I can have a better idea of what exactly to wear? 😛”

Bucky:

………..

I watched as the little dots bounced while he was writing and then stop.

Maybe it was an overshare about the pyjamas for a first date, but.. That’s what I considered comfortable.

Just as I was getting up to get ready for bed, my phone dinged again.

Bucky:

“You know, as much as I would love to see you in your pyjamas on the first date, I think that’s better left for down the line, no? 😈”

Isabella:

“Ah, so you’ve thought about me in pyjamas. ‘How scandalous good sir!’ (insert fake British accent here) 🤭”

I let out a huff as I put my phone down, refusing to believe that I just attempted flirting with a man I just met, over text.

Maybe he does give me inspiration.

Bucky:

“There’s a lot of things I think about, more so the things I think about since I met you. 😉”

I couldn’t help the blush that evaded my cheeks.

The man was straight up flirting with me.

I put the phone down, trying hard to calm my now thunderous heart.

Isabella:

“You’ll have to tell me about these things some time. You know, after our run-in earlier, I was able to come back home to do some work. Something I have a hard time doing lately. I have been having a lack of inspiration. After walking away from the coffee shop, I had to come straight home as an idea popped into my head, and you were the inspiration. So I really do need to say thank you, Bucky 🙂”

Once I hit send, however he took that, it was up to him.

I really didn’t expect a response from him but imagine my surprise when he responded yet again.

Bucky:

“Well, if I was your inspiration, would it be possible for me to see what I inspired in you? I promise I will be good. 😇”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at the angelic emoji he put. Something told me that this man knew how to toy the line between good and bad.

We continued texting back and forth for a bit, me having changed into my nightshirt and climbing into bed.

Isabella:

“You know, it’s almost 1 am here. How come you aren’t asleep? Are you a night owl like me? 🫣”

Bucky:

“I have a hard time sleeping most nights. It’s like my brain won’t shut off. Especially when I’m away from home. Why are you still awake, hmmm? 🤔”

Isabella:

“That’s a good question. Why am I still awake? OH! I know, some handsome man has my number and has been texting me and forth for hours now.” I was proud of my response.

Bucky:

“You think I’m handsome?! 😊”

Oh there I went and did it. I could sense the smugness from here.

Isabella:

“What? YOU? Nahhhh.”

Bucky:

“Oh, so you’re texting someone else as well? Okay, I will leave you to go to sleep then! Have a good night!”

I could feel the panic rise in my throat.

Isabella:

“No, wait! I’m only talking to you!! I don’t have time to have a million guys on the go. I barely have time for myself.”

Bucky:

“It’s okay, I get it. I do want to take you out still, so I will let you go to sleep, and I’ll text you when I’m back in town on Friday. If you need too, you can text me anytime, and I’ll respond when I can. Sleep well Bella 😉”

I blushed at the nickname he gave me.

No one has ever called me that, and when I put my phone down for the night, I fell asleep with a smile on my face.

The rest of the week went by relatively fast.

I got texts here and there from Bucky, it having become a night time routine for us to text before bed.

Friday came with a blink of an eye.

I woke up that morning stretching as the sun peeked through the curtains. Once I had finished stretching it dawned on me what day it was.

I excitedly threw off the covers and bounced out of bed.

Today was finally the day.

To pass the time I went towards my supplies having changed into my painting clothes, and put a new canvas up on the easel.

I stared at it momentarily, when an idea struck.

Lately I had been painting with a lot of reds, and I couldn’t help it, but this time, I had added some blues as well.

I worked like a mad man, paint flying all over the place, but landing where I needed them to be.

I stepped back, hours later, looking at my creation.

You know how they say that the eyes are the windows to a person’s soul?

That’s what I created.

The eyes that stared back at me were of the purest blue, but the pupils, it showed of a tormented soul, one with a dark past.

The eyes reminded me of Bucky’s, but I couldn’t place why I would think his soul is tortured?

Content with what I created, I took a picture of it and sent it to Carla with the caption of Windows to the Soul.

Almost immediately my phone rang, and Carla’s name and photo popped up.

“Hey! That was quick even for you!” I said, trying to tease her, but there was something about the painting that was putting me on edge.

“Hey yourself! Did you just do this piece? I must say, none of the others that you have done, and I will admit, they are all amazing pieces, holds a candle to this one. Let me guess, your beautiful man was the inspiration again behind this piece?” she asked.

“I guess you could say that yes.” I gushed out, turning again, to look at the painting.

“ Well damn! I think this one should be showcased on its own, away from the other pieces. When can I come pick this one up?” she asked, quizzically.

“How about Sunday?” I mused.

I pulled the phone away from my ear to look at the time.

5:00 pm

Shoot! I need to start getting ready.

“Hey Carla, mind if I call you back later on? I’ve got to go get ready for my date with James in a bit.” I tell her.

“Sure, send me alllll the juicy details later on, okay? More so that I know you are alive!?” she said, making me not only sigh but roll my eyes as well.

“Yes mom!” I mocked, laughter in my voice.

Before she could say anything else, I hung up the phone.

I made my way into the bathroom, where I took a shower, getting ready for my date.

As I stepped out of the shower, I wrapped a towel around me, and another one around my hair.

I started getting my make up ready, going to an all natural look, then started to style my hair when my make up was done.

Once I had that finished, I walked over to my closet area, and by area I meant it was a bunch of dress racks in a row.

“He said to dress nice, but comfortable. Hmmm” I mused, going through my clothes.

After scanning through them I found the perfect thing to wear.

I reached over and grabbed my crimson sweater dress, and pair of capris leggings to go under. I paired it with a black belt and let the dress hang off my shoulders.

I reached into my jewellery box and found the few pieces of white gold that I had, putting on my earrings and a ring on my thumb and turned to look at myself in the mirror.

I took a full length selfie and sent it to Carla for approval.

Carla:

“Damn girl! James is not going to know what to do with himself when he sees you! 🔥”

I chuckled at her reaction. I just hoped Bucky’s was similar.

6:59pm

I sat on the couch, patiently waiting.

Then as if on cue I hear a knock at my door.

I get up off the couch and walk to the door, opening it, taking a deep breath when my eyes were blessed with the vision of prayer in human form.

“Hi, Bella!” Bucky said, taking my hand in his, bringing it up to his lips to brush them over my knuckles.

“You look amazing, stunning even. The picture of a dream!” he continued.

“Hi!” I managed to squeak out, a blush creeping across my cheeks.

“Do you want to come in for a drink before we go?” I asked, remembering my manners.

“Sure, if that’s okay with you?” he countered, politely.

As I stepped away from the door, I let him come further into the loft.

“This is some place you have here. Oh! You’re an artist! That’s what you meant by inspiration!” he said, turning to look at me, a smile beautifully stretched across his lips.

I had to swallow as his smile made my throat go dry.

Then I remembered the painting on the easel from this morning.

I walked briskly over to it, hoping to get to it before he saw it, but it was too late.

“Is that new?” he asked.

“Mmmhmm! Yes, I painted it this morning, actually!” I whispered, embarrassed that he’d recognize them as his eyes.

He walked up closer to the canvas, and took a good look at it.

“The eyes do something. It makes you feel. What I can’t pinpoint. What made you paint them?” he asked, turning around to look at me.

“I… um… well… remember what I said about inspiration? Well it seems like you did it again.” I started, taking a moment to sigh.

“Yes?” he edged on.

“Well.. the truth is..” I mentally face palmed, not believing that I was going to tell him. “Your eyes have been at the forefront of my brain since we met in the coffee shop. They are like the colours of the purest rivers off the glaciers, a cold crystal blue. They’ve captivated my every thought, until I painted them.” I finished with my confession.

“And the pupils?” he inquires, his voice full of intrigue.

“There was something about your eyes that held promise, and held on to something good, but the pupils make me feel like you’ve suffered a great deal, but you don’t share it. That it’s a burden you keep to yourself.” I breathed out, not knowing if my oversharing was going to ruin this date before it even got out the door.

“You got all that from just my eyes?” he asked in awe.

“Mostly, yes.” I said.

That’s when he turned to completely look at me, full on.

“Do you not know who I am?” he asks.

“Your James, Bucky to those who know you. Am I supposed to know more than that? More than what you have told me?” I questioned.

“So you haven’t run to fact check who I am? What I have done?” he questions.

Oh God! My mind starts racing around a mile a minute, worse case scenarios coming to mind.

He sees me starting to panic and he takes hold of my arms softly.

“I swear you are the first person to look at me like I am normal. Not like I’m some freak with a metal arm!” he said, taking off the glove from his left hand, the light glistening off the metal, as he goes to sit on the couch.

I stared at his hand for a moment, transfixed at this.

“Y-you have a metal hand?”I started stating the obvious, and was met with a chuckle.

I looked up at Bucky, questions circling around in my head, trying to find which one I wanted to ask first.

“What happened?!” I asked finally.

“The short of it, I fell off a train and lost my arm.” he said, matter of factly.

My instinct was to reach out and touch it, but I stopped mid way.

“You can touch it, you don’t have to be afraid. I won’t hurt you.” he said, sensing my hesitation.

At his urging, I let my fingers trail over the metal, noting how cold it was.

“Does it hurt?” I asked.

He shook his head.

“Not really. Sometimes I’ll get phantom pain, but that’s only after I wake up from a nightmare.” he admitted, looking down at the floor.

“Look, if you’re uncomfortable, I can go.” he said, looking back up at me, his eyes holding mine, hopeful that I won’t tell him to go.

“No! No, of course I’m not uncomfortable. I’m actually surprisingly comfortable. It’s not every day I get to meet someone with a metal arm.” I said, excitement coating my voice.

“Okay, then shall we go to dinner? I promise you can ask me any questions that come to mind.” Bucky said, standing up and holding out a hand for me to take.

I put my hand in his flesh hand, and electricity shot through me as he gave my hand a little squeeze.

We made our way to the restaurant, where I had to admit, Bucky was the perfect gentleman. Pulling out my chair for me, and even when the female wait staff kept ogling him, he gave me his full attention.

“So how come someone as beautiful as yourself is single?” he asked me.

“I never seemed to have found someone that can understand me. That gets me when I put my all into my creativity. That and my last boyfriend was a real piece of work. Took one of my paintings and passed it off as his, and it sold for a lot of money. Needless to say he was confused as to why I broke up with him, although that should have been the red flag for him. What about you?” I said.

I could see him visibly tense, as if debating on what he was going to tell me.

He took a deep breath before reaching across the table, brushing his fingers over the back of my hand, looking like he was trying to ground himself before he spoke.

“My past reputation isn’t really one I’m proud of. The accident I told you about? Well my first metal arm came from the people who found me. They weren’t good people. I was held captive for several decades before I was able to break free from them. That is all thanks to my friend Steve really.” he said, watching me to see if I was putting together the pieces.

I sat there, thinking about all that he was telling me.

I really didn’t know why it sounded familiar.

Just before I was about to ask him a question, someone came up to the side of our table.

With how quiet the restaurant was, and the other ambiance, the guy's voice was quite a stark comparison in volume.

“You’re the Winter Soldier!! Why would anyone let you into this place? You have no right to be here, no right to be in public where you can easily hurt people!!” the man raged, as Bucky sat there, frozen while watching my reaction.

“I’m sorry about him Sir, Ma’am. Please accept our apology for the interruption!” said the maitre d.

As the staff led the gentleman away, I turned back to look at Bucky.

Everything at that point clicked into place.

“You’re James “Bucky” Barnes? Best friend to Captain America?!” I said in awe, as reality caught up to me.

“Yes!” came a feeble response.

“So when you had to run that day at the coffee shop, that was because you were on a mission?” I asked.

Bucky looked at me quizzically, unsure of what to make of my reaction.

“Yes. I was leaving to go on a mission. I have to admit. I’m surprised that was the first question you asked after learning that I was the Winter Soldier.” he said, his voice low, as if still waiting for the blow up.

“I believe one’s past doesn’t define a person as to who they are. Unless you’re my scumbag of an ex. Also, if I remember correctly, you didn’t have a choice. You were brainwashed and coerced into doing the things they wanted you to do. Yes I do remember hearing about the Winter Soldier, but I always had kind of a soft spot. And besides, who knew that the Winter Soldier would be a source of inspiration for my work!” I said, wiggling my eyebrows at him, causing him to laugh.

“Do you want to get out of here, and maybe go for a walk before I drop you off at home?” he asks, feeling relaxed again.

“I’d love that!” I said, feeling the heat spread across my cheeks.

He called the maitre d over for the cheque, and when they came over, it was told that everything had been taken care of because of the rude guest earlier.

I watched Bucky place a large tip on the table, and put his hand on my back to lead us to get our coats.

As we walked along the sidewalk, the sky was clear of clouds, and shining bright with stars.

All of a sudden Bucky points up to a spot in the sky.

“You see that cluster of stars that looks like a zig zag?” he asked.

I strained to see where he was pointing, until I could finally see what he was talking about.

“Yeah?!” I said, turning back to look at him.

“That’s Cassiopeia. It’s named after the vain queen Cassiopeia, who was the mother of Andromeda, based in Greek mythology.” he said, blushing as he realised he sounded a bit nerdy for knowing this.

“That’s incredible. Do you know anything more about stars?” I asked him, not wanting him to feel embarrassed.

“Actually I know a lot about stars. One of the things they trained me when I was held captive was navigating with the stars.” he said.

“Can you tell me more?” I asked, not wanting to end the night at all.

“Sure!” he said, as I linked my arm through his metal arm, and we continued walking.

We walked and talked for what felt like hours, until we found ourselves back at my loft.

“Would you like to come in for a night cap?” I asked.

“If that’s what you’d like.” he said, blushing slightly.

As we stepped inside, I turned on the lights, tossing my coat on the back of the couch.

“Make yourself comfortable!” I called out, heading to the kitchen.

After rummaging around in the fridge, I found some bottles of beer and some cut up fruit.

I grabbed two bottles of beer and the fruit, walking back into the living room, where I handed a bottle to Bucky.

I sat next to him on the couch and as I took a sip of my beer, I couldn’t help but let my gaze wander over him.

I suddenly put my beer on the coffee table, reaching out to take his and put it on there as well.

“Everything okay?” he asks, swallowing out of nervousness.

“Mmmhmm.” was all I could muster, before moving closer to him, and gently touching his cheek.

At the mere touch of my hand to his cheek, his eyes closed, his head leaning into my touch.

“You know, that day at the coffee shop, I couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have those soft looking lips against mine.” he whispers, opening his eyes to look at me.

“That’s a coincidence. I was wondering the same thing.” I said, leaning a bit closer.

His left hand came up to cradle my cheek, his thumb gently brushing over my lips.

The next thing I know, I’m being pulled into his lap, and his lips are on mine.

The kiss was very surprising, because even though it started off slow, there was an undercurrent of energy pulsing through us both.

I could feel his tongue trace my bottom lip, and in response, my lips parted, letting him seek more.

Time seemed to stand still as we were fused together, hands wandering all over each other, breaking apart only to remove his shirt and any other clothing that needed to come off.

He effortlessly picked me up and carried me over to my bed, before gently laying me down.

I looked up at him, a soft smile splayed across my lips as I gently pulled him down to me.

We kissed more and our hands sought out more contact, as I trailed my hands down his back to his hips.

He kissed down my jaw, trailing further down my neck until he got to the spot just under my ear, nibbling and sucking on that spot, making me come undone at just his lips.

He trailed further down, nipping at my collar bone, before kissing down my chest, my skin erupting in goosebumps.

“If you want to stop, just tell me. But I hope you won’t want to.” Bucky whispered in awe, as his lips continued down.

I couldn’t formulate a proper sentence so all I could do was a mumbled “Don’t stop!”

That was all the encouragement that Bucky needed.

He shifted back up so we were back at eye level, but I could feel his body weight on me, his hand roaming down to bring a leg up against his hip.

“Are you sure?” he asks, softly.

I nod gently, not wanting to give this up.

“I need to hear you.” he says.

“Please!” I begged.

In the next moment, Bucky positioned himself between my legs and I suddenly felt delirious at the sensation building.

Bucky slowly pressed further, sliding in slowly, drawing out the sensory overload.

When he was finally in to the hilt, he looked at me, cupping my face, to make sure I was okay.

“I need you to move, Bucky. I need to feel more.” I whisper, and that was all it took.

We moved slowly at first, setting a rhythm and pace that felt right.

My hands traced up and down his back, my nails leaving faint red lines, as his other hand brings up my other leg, so I’m wrapped around his waist.

There were no words between us, just sultry sounds of pleasure that we both took and gave to each other.

A thin layer of sweat coats both of our skin as his fingers interlace between mine, bringing them to pin them to the bed.

His thrusts become more purposeful, hitting the spot that I didn’t know needed stimulation.

Our breathing becomes more erratic and laboured as we both start chasing our high.

I don’t know when it changed from slow torture to frantically blissed out pleasure.

His lips are nibbling along my skin, leaving marks, and my skin flushed from his stubble rubbing against my skin.

I could feel the coil in my stomach start to wind tight, and he must have sensed it too, reaching down to add more stimulation when his thumb started doing slow torturous circles on my swollen clit, causing me to cry out.

“Bucky!!!” I cried.

“That’s it, Bella. Come undone for me.” he whispered in my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

That was all it took for me to cum.

After a few more thrusts, Bucky let out a low rumbling moan, causing me to wrap tighter around him as we basked in the aftermath of our passion.

I feel extremely relaxed, that I didn’t realise my eyes were closed until I could feel the bed moving.

I opened one eye, peering where Bucky was and watched, my breath caught in my throat, unsure of what he was going to do.

Was he going to leave?

Was this just something casual?

My mind raced with a bunch of questions, as my self esteem started to drop.

I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn’t hear Bucky get up and go to the bathroom, let alone come back with a warm cloth.

It wasn’t until I felt the warm cloth on my skin that I realised that I was overthinking things.

I started to relax once Bucky finished cleaning us both up, and he pulled the covers over us, pulling me closer to him.

I snuggled back against him, feeling a blanket of sleep creep over me.

“Good night, Bella.” he whispered in my ear, as I drifted to sleep.

The next morning I woke up to the sun beaming into the loft and covered my eyes.

I then remembered about last night and bolted upright in bed, looking to my left side, finding a sleeping Bucky.

I reached for my phone, looking at the screen to find I had six messages from Carla, and two calls from an unknown number.

I slowly slipped out of bed, pulling on my robe, as I walked away from the bed so as to not wake Bucky.

I dialed Carla’s number and she picked up on the first ring.

“UH! Hello to you too Bestie?!? Why didn’t you answer my texts? What if I thought something had happened to you? Hmmmm? You couldn’t have been …… ohhhhhhhhh!! The date went that good, hmm?” she said, making me groan before I could say anything.

“Yes! If you must know, the date went really well, even after some guy was a jerk to Bucky, err I mean James!” I said, hoping I had caught myself on the slip up.

“I’m glad you had fun! You will tell me more details later. Right now I need to talk to you about your pieces. Even though you have the exhibit coming up next week, I have someone who’s interested in all your pieces. Including the Windows to the Soul. I’m still going to put them up, but they are already spoken for. It’s the same person that bought all of them, and he’s wanting to commission you for some additional paintings. There’s apparently a few portraits he’d like for you to do. This is a really great opportunity for you. What do you say?” Carla asked, sounding hopeful.

I was dumbfounded. All my paintings, sold pre-exhibit, and a commission for more?

I looked over at my muse sleeping in my bed, and I couldn’t hold back my smile.

“Tell him I said yes, I will do the commission pieces, but he needs to state out right how many he’s expecting!” I tell her, matter of factly.

“Consider that done!” she tells me, and by the tone of her voice, I can tell she’s bouncing on her feet.

“Great! Look, I’m going to go make something for breakfast, I’ll talk to you later ok?” I tell her, hanging up really before she could give me an answer.

I put together some batter to make waffles, and plate enough for two, adding chopped fruit and icing sugar over top.

Placing both plates on a tray, I also pour two glasses of orange juice and some coffee I brewed while I was making the waffles.

As I brought the tray over to the bed, I put it on the bedside table and crawled back into bed, leaning down to place a kiss on his temple.

Slowly he started to stir, gradually opening his eyes, squinting against the light.

I giggled and got up to close the curtains a slight bit.

“Good morning! I wasn’t sure if you were going to be hungry or not, but I made some breakfast, with juice and coffee.” I said, putting the tray in front of him as he sat up.

He looked at the tray, then looked at me, his face reddening a bit with a hint of blush.

“Thank you! No one has um, no one has ever made me breakfast before! Let alone bring it to me to have in bed.” he said softly, the gesture clearly making him feel emotional.

I smiled at him as I took a sip of coffee, watching with pride as he tackled the food.

When I didn’t say anything, he stopped and looked up at me with a sheepish look.

“Sorry, it’s the serum that makes my metabolism peak and I’m usually always hungry!” he explained.

I just continued to smile at him.

He put his fork down on his plate and looked at me.

“Something got you in a really good mood this morning?” he asked.

“A few things actually!” I started.

He arched an eyebrow at me, which begged for me to continue.

“Well, I woke up with this incredible guy in my bed, that I think I’m crushing over.” I admitted, covering my face for a moment.

When I had recomposed myself, I continued.

“And all the pieces I had just done this past week, including the Window to the Soul piece, have been bought privately, and will be on show for the exhibit next week before being shipped to the buyer. Also the same buyer has commissioned me to paint several portraits. This is actually the biggest thing to happen to me, since meeting you. Actually….” I started, getting more and more excited, the longer I continued talking about it.

“It’s all because of you!” I exclaimed.

“Me?” he said, tilting his head to the side to look at me.

“Why me? How is this because of me?” he asked, genuinely unaware of the ripple effect meeting him has had on my life after one week.

“Youuuu, because since I met you, I’ve been inspired, sometimes driven to create. So it’s because of you that my career has taken a turn for the better.” I explained to him.

His cheeks go a few more shades of red.

“Well if I gave you inspiration, I think it’s only fair you thank your muse properly.” he said, putting the tray over to the bedside table again, after which I crawled onto his lap.

His fingers quickly made short work of the belt of my robe, pushing it down over my shoulders and tossed it over to the side.

We spent the rest of the morning, kissing and teasing each other into fits of passion, where the sounds that echoed through the loft would make a sinner blush.

When I woke up again, it was late afternoon.

The sun had shifted considerably across the sky and reds and oranges were dancing on the far wall of my loft.

A sudden burst of creativity jolted through me, so I got up wrapping a sheet around me, leaving Bucky to sleep again, as I went to my easel and set up a new canvas.

I covered the canvas in shades of purples and blacks, followed by painting two lovers in bold shades of red.

I didn’t know how long I had been painting for, until I felt a pair of lips on my shoulder.

“I didn’t see this before.” Bucky said, his lips trailing over the butterfly tattoo I had on my shoulder.

“Well you were a little preoccupied last night, and again this morning, so it’s okay that you missed some detail.” I said, turning to wink at him.

He wrapped his arms around my waist, placing his chin on my shoulder.

“You are extremely talented. No wonder why your pieces sold so fast.” he said, admiring the piece I just finished.

“I’m going to call this piece, Lovers’ Passion.” I told him.

“And what may I ask, is the inspiration for this one?” he asks, his cheeks dusted with a deep red, already knowing the answer.

I turned around to face him, wrapping my arms around his waist.

“You.” I simply said.

He smiled a big bold smile before leaning down and kissing me.

“Are you hungry?” he asks.

“I could eat.” I answer.

We ended up ordering food in, me sitting around still in just the sheet, and Bucky in his briefs.

While we ate, we spent the rest of the evening talking and getting to know more about each other.

The more and more we talked, the more we found out how much we had in common.

After we showered, and had a hot and steamy passion fest in there, Bucky got dressed and was getting ready to head home.

As I stood at the door to my loft, I had the sudden feeling that I didn’t want him to go. I liked being around him and it was easy to talk to him, and he clearly gave me a lot of inspiration.

“Um, Bucky?” I started, my nerves getting the better of me.

“Yeah, Bella?” he asks.

“Would you um, well.. Would you like to be my plus one for the exhibit?” I gush out.

“Are you asking me on a date?” he countered, a smug look creeping across his face.

Taking a deep breath and biting the bullet, I look up at him, his eyes glued to me.

“Yes! Yes I am.” I mustered.

“Then, yes, I will be your plus one for the exhibit!” he responds, a huge smile across his face.

I blushed, and reached up brushing a kiss on his lips.

“I guess I will see you the night of the exhibit.” I said, slowly pulling away, wanting to stay in his arms.

“I can pick you up if you want?” he offered, gently brushing aside a strand of hair that fell across my face.

“Please.” I whispered.

“Okay, I’ll pick you up at 6 then?” he asked, tilting his head to look at me.

“That works for me. I will see you then.” I said, giving him one last peck on the lips before he slips out the door.

I lean back against the door and do a quick internal scream of joy.

On the other side of the door*

Bucky turned to look back at the door he just stepped through that had closed and couldn’t help the ever growing smile that was by now plastered on his face.

He really liked you, and really wanted to see where this could go.

He was definitely intrigued at the fact that he’s inspired so much creativity in you, and that you were quite talented.

He really hoped to see what else he could inspire you to create.

With a contented sigh, he turned and finished walking down the steps.

He couldn’t wait for the exhibit.

The days leading up to the exhibit were filled with lots of painting, and a lot more works produced.

Seems that meeting Bucky had opened the floodgates to my creativity, and there was no turning it off.

I ended up painting another ten pieces for the exhibit, this way unless the same buyer bought them already without seeing them that I didn’t know about, there were some that others had the chance of buying.

My favourite piece out of the new batch was one again done all in red.

I had found a picture of Bucky from when he had first enlisted with the Army in the 40’s. He looked young and boyish in the picture, and it made my stomach flutter knowing that this was the same man that I had met just over a week ago at the coffee shop. The same man that has sparked a renewed sense of passion in me.

I had also found a rare photo of the Winter Soldier.

The piece I created was a triple piece.

The first part was a portrait of the younger Bucky bleeding into the Winter Soldier, fading into today’s Bucky.

It turned out perfect.

But there was one thing I was hesitant about.

What would Bucky think of this?

I decided to put this off to the side for now, and was focused on getting ready for the exhibit.

Bucky was going to pick me up for 6 and I had just gotten out of the shower, my robe on, while I walked to my closet area and picked out the dress I was going to wear.

As much as I wanted to wear something extremely comfortable, I had to dress up.

I pulled out a sleek looking black dress that left my left shoulder bare, and cascaded down to my feet, with a slit up the left side.

I sat down after hanging it up on the back of the bathroom door, and started putting hot rollers in my hair.

I started doing my makeup, going for a smokey look for my eyes, while I did a light blush on my cheeks, while I did a deep red on my lips.

I took one final look at my makeup, satisfied with what I saw, then proceeded with my hair.

When I took the curlers out my hair was a bunch of ringlets.

I took a bunch of my hair, leaving strands snaking down my neck, and pulled the rest up on top of my head, fastening loose strands with bobby pins until it looked like an curly messy bun, taking additional strands out so that they framed my face along with my bangs, then securing it with enough hairspray.

Pleased with both my hair and makeup, I checked the clock.

5:45pm.

Bucky was going to be here soon, and I really wanted to be ready when he got here.

I did a quick sweep of the loft to make sure that all the paintings that were to be at the exhibit were gone.

When I didn’t see anything that had been left behind, I walked into the bathroom and put my dress on.

Once I slipped into my heels, I put on a silver bangle, and a pair of diamond earrings.

The moment I finished with the last earring, there was a knock on my door.

I straightened up and walked over to the door to open it, seeing a very speechless Bucky.

“Hi!” I whispered, blushing at the weight of his stare.

He stepped in when I nodded, wrapping his arms around my waist to pull me closer.

“You look, wow! Do we really have to go to the exhibit? Can’t they do this without the artist there? We could stay here instead?” he murmured into my ear, as he leaned in to kiss my cheek.

“You smell amazing too!” he added.

I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“If staying here was an option, I would take that in a heartbeat. You look amazing yourself.” I said, stepping back so I could admire him even more.

He was wearing a black suit, paired with a black silk dress shirt. His beard was trimmed down to stubble, which made my fingers itch to touch, while his hair was styled as if he just got a trim.

He always looked amazing, but there was something about the way he was right now, and the look in his eyes, it was going to be my undoing tonight.

“What?” he asked, his cheeks tinting a shade of pink.

I shook my head, clearing the fog of lust that was clouding over me.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. You just look really good, and I’m rethinking your offer to stay in.” I said, feeling a wave of heat wash over me, knowing if we didn’t leave soon, I’d probably let him work out his wildest fantasies.

“Thank you, Bella.” he whispered, clearly not used to compliments.

“Shall we go?” I asked, loving this side of him.

He gathers my coat and helps me put it on, pressing a kiss to my bare skin before pulling it over my shoulder.

I grabbed my clutch, and we left the loft, locking the door.

He went over to the passenger side of the door, opening it for me, waiting for me to get in before closing it, running over to the driver's side.

The drive to the gallery was quiet.

Partially because I was nervous about the exhibit, but also because I was still not sure how Bucky would react to the piece.

We pulled up to the gallery, Bucky giving the keys to the attendant, and we dropped our coats at the coat check, and walked into the warmth.

“Isabella!!” I turned as Carla came over greeting me, pulling me into a warm embrace, and then holding me at arms length so she could see my outfit.

“You look amazing!! Look at you?! God damn!” she started. “Would you believe that this is the same woman who whenever I go over to her place, is always dressed in her comfy painting clothes?! And who are you?! We haven’t met, I’m Carla!”she finished, turning towards Bucky, extending her arm to shake his hand.

He took her hand, as he leaned in to kiss her cheek before introducing himself.

“Hello, my name is James! But most people call me Bucky!” he said before letting go of her hand.

“This is James?!” Carla all but squealed. “THE James?!”she said, looking back at me, arching an eyebrow, before turning back to Bucky.

“Nice to meet you. May I call you Bucky?” she asked.

He gave a soft nod.

“Perfect!” she said, before looping her arm into mine. “Isabella, I need to go over the newest piece you sent in. It’s amazing! I know there’s going to be people going crazy for it, so we’re going to have an auction for this piece specifically, putting in some of your other pieces as well, but this one will be the last to auction off. Oh! That reminds me, the buyer, Mr. Stark will be here tonight as well. He wants to meet the artist!” she announced.

Bucky let out a soft cough at the mention of Stark, and hoped it didn’t draw attention.

“Carla, can I just have a moment? I need to talk to Bucky about something. Is there a place that we can go so we can talk?” I asked, the nerves coming back full force.

“Yeah, sure. You can go to the room that’s set up for the auction. All the pieces are there.” she said, pointing to the room off to the side. “I’ll just wait for you until you are ready.” she finished.

“Thank you!” I said, taking a deep breath.

“Bucky?” I started. “There’s something I need to tell you about one of the pieces. Can we talk for a moment?” I asked.

“Sure, Bella.” he said, taking my hand, leading me to the room Carla had pointed to.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, concern laced in his voice.

“Yeah, well, I think they are.” I started, before turning to look at him before we entered the room.

“I know we just met a week ago, and things have moved relatively fast. I’ve done some of my best pieces in the week's time frame since meeting you. Better than I think I’ve ever done since I’ve started painting to be honest. There is one piece I wanted to talk to you about before the exhibit starts. As much as you’ve been my muse with all of this, this painting is specifically about you. I can’t explain it really, so I will just have to show you.” I said, leading him to where Carla had all the pieces lined up.

I could see him scanning over all the pieces until he got to the last piece.

He let my hand go, and walked up to the canvas.

“The paint is still fresh. I can still smell it.” he says, his eyes never leaving the painting.

“That is because I painted it this morning. The paint is still relatively tacky, which is why they have it in here to help it finish drying.” I explained.

“I see.” he said, leaning closer to the image.

“You’re really good with the details.” he said, as I approached him.

“If you don’t want this piece to be auctioned.. I can tell Carla to…” I said but was quickly cut off by Bucky turning to me and crushing his lips to mine, causing my eyes to close.

Once he pulled away, my eyes fluttered back open.

“This piece is amazing. The details are exquisite, and very fine I might add. It’s weird to look at myself, almost like I’m on the outside looking in at this one. To see who I once was before, the innocence you captured, then to see who I was to everyone else, I can see how they saw me then. To know I had no choice. Then to see me as I am. The end result of the personal journey I had to take to get to where I am now. How do you do it? How do you capture emotion and put it on canvas?” he said, his voice low, and strangled, like he was struggling with emotions.

“I… I don’t really know. I just paint what I feel. And honestly, what I’ve felt this past week, since you came into my life, has altered everything. I don’t look at things the same way that I did. Now I look at things and see that there’s more to things than what is just on the surface. I try to really look deeper. And when I found the picture of you in the 40’s, I saw the vulnerability in you. Young, fresh into the Army. And then the photo of you as the Winter Soldier. The person most feared, but not by choice. Left vulnerable because of all your free will stripped from you. The last photo I found, there’s still vulnerability there but because of what’s to come, struggling to fit in a world out of your time, but wanting to do so with a purpose. The guy I met in the coffee shop had a fire in his eyes.” I explained. “And he still does.” I finished in a whisper.

“You saw all of that in those pictures? You see all of that in me?” he said, stepping closer to me, tilting my chin up so I could look at him.

“Yes.” was all I could whisper.

I saw something flash in his eyes, and before I could focus on figuring out what it was, Carla came into the room.

“Sorry to interrupt. The exhibit is going to start soon as people are showing up. Are you ready? Is everything okay?” she asked.

I blinked a moment before turning to her, nodding.

We followed her out back to the main area for the exhibit.

The place was packed with people.

I couldn’t believe it honestly.

As if sensing my being overwhelmed, Bucky reached over and took my hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

I squeezed back as a thank you.

“Can I have everyone’s attention please!” Carla announced, testing the microphone’s volume.

“Thank you everyone for coming here tonight, to support our very own artist, Isabella Santiago!” she continued, while the audience started to applaud.

At the mention of my name, my head snapped up in attention, as I gave a quick nod to her.

“Isabella has been honing her craft for decades, but recently she’s tapped into a depth of talent that has surprised not only herself, but the art world. She’s a force to be reckoned with, as several of her pieces have already sold for a substantial amount. They are already marked with the buyer’s tag, however there are other pieces that are available for auction tonight. If you open up your programs for the night, you will see each piece that is available for auction, including a very special piece that will be auctioned off last.” she started to conclude.

“So please, drink and eat as much as you want, and enjoy the pieces. Isabella will be around to answer any questions about the pieces that you might have, so please do not be shy, ask away. So without further adieu, we welcome you to The Red Strokes Exhibit. Thank you!”

She turned off the microphone and handed it to someone, and was immediately swarmed by people.

“Ms. Santiago! It’s a pleasure to finally meet the artist that has added volume to my collection. I look forward to working with you. I’m Tony Stark, by the way!” he said, extending his hand for me to take his.

I saw him glance to the side at Bucky before looking back at me, and fleetingly wondered what that was about, but didn’t have the chance to think anything more on it, before a group of people approached, questions ready to go.

After answering questions about the pieces for a while, I needed to excuse myself, and went to step out onto the terrace to get a breath of fresh air.

I watched the city lights twinkle in the dark, as the last remnants of the sunset faded on the horizon, below the skyline.

I don’t know how long I had been outside for, but after a time, I felt a pair of arms come and circle around my waist.

“Are you okay?” Bucky whispered against my neck as he placed a kiss on my bare shoulder.

“Yeah, I just needed some air. Who knew that answering questions could be so overwhelming?” I said, turning to face him, still engulfed in his arms.

“Do you need to stay for the auction?” he asked, genuinely concerned that it would be too much for me.

“Yeah, I want to know to who and where your piece goes too.” I said, resting my forehead on his chest.

“If you want to leave, just give me a signal, anything and I’ll get you out of here.” he said, making me feel cared for.

As I started to relax against him, I felt the chill of the night creep up my spine, and caused me to shiver.

“Do you want to go back in?” he asked, taking off his jacket, draping it over my shoulders and I simply nodded.

“Okay, let's go in then.” he said, ushering us both inside.

Once back inside, Tony came up to us, handing each of us a flute of champagne when the server came around.

“I have one burning question to ask about the pieces. What was your inspiration for them? I don’t mean like you saw a dog and thought it was cute so you decided to paint it. I mean what was the feeling behind each piece? Why red?” Tony asked, holding my gaze, which felt like it was trying to burn into my soul.

“I’m not sure I can pinpoint the feeling specifically, but I met someone, and there was a spark, and it just seemed like everything was a hazy shade of red ever since. Not the red one sees when they are angry, but rather the haze that’s equated to passion. I guess that’s really what the feeling was when I was painting. A burning passion to express something from deep inside of me.” I said, turning to look at Bucky, seeing him standing there with a soft smile on his face, smiling back at him, before looking back at Tony.

“That’s actually really interesting that you said that. It’s the passion that exuded from the paintings that captured my interest. I also really like the piece that is to be auctioned last. I might just have to bid on that, as it reminds me of someone.” he said, before nodding, then turning to walk away.

“Bella, from what I’ve been hearing, there’s a lot of interest in that last painting. Who knows what the final bid will be for it. Especially if Stark is interested.” Bucky said, pulling me to a dark corner for a moment.

The minute we were out of sight of everyone, he pressed me up against the wall and captured my lips with his, fighting the need to behave.

“We will see who behaves once we’re not in public any more.” he taunted me, leaning in and whispering that in my ears, sending a delicious shiver down my spine.

“Promise?” I asked, biting my bottom lip.

He quickly pulled me close to him and kissed me again before pushing me away like I had burnt him.

Pt2 to come

[marvelvillian23]

Does anyone know any Basement Wife fics. Multi chapter preferably but any fic will do.