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witchywithwhiskey · 5 months

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the alpha next door

pairing: alpha!steve rogers x omega!female reader

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

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

word count: 8.9k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The alpha next door was just so…sweet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steve. You wanted Steve. You needed Steve.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor · 2 months

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Bad Bosses AU

The Devil Wears Armani | Tony Stark

1 💼 2 💼 3 💼 4 💼 5

Office Space | Nick Fowler & Jonathan Pine

1 💼 2 💼 3 💼 4 💼 5

Monster, Inc. | Lloyd Hansen

1 💼 2 💼 3 💼 4 💼 5

Code of Conduct | Steve Rogers

1 💼 2 💼 3 💼 4 💼 5

Backburner | Sam Wilson

1 💼 2 💼 3 💼 4 💼 5

Paradigm Shift | Bucky Barnes & Loki

1 💼 2 💼 3 💼 4 💼 5

Unorthodox | Captain Syverson

1 💼 2 💼 3 💼 4 💼 5

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thezombieprostitute · 1 month

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Tech Tuesday Masterlist

Introduction

Bucky Barnes & Sweetie

Part 1; Part 2;

Curtis Everett & Heart

Part 1; Part 2;

Double Gs (God the Bounty Hunter, Geralt of Rivia)

Part 1

Jake Jensen & Sunshine

Part 1; Part 2 (prequel); Part 3;

Johnny Storm & DarkAngel

Part 1

Jonathan Pine & Rose

Part 1; Part 2

Lloyd Hansen & Maestro

Part 1; Part 1.5 (Lloyd's perspective); Part 2

Mike & Boss Lady

Part 1

Ransom Drysdale & Bubbles

Part 1; Part 2

Steve Rogers & Newbie

Part 1

Syverson & Darlin'

Part 1; Part 2;

Walter Marshall & Spitfire

Part 1; Part 2;

Asks

Friends

Intimidating Eyes (Double G's)

Trading Desks (Jonathan Pine)

#tech tuesday #bucky barnes #curtis everett #god the bounty hunter #geralt of rivia #johnny storm #jake jensen #jonathan pine #lloyd hansen #hellraiser!mike #ransom drysdale #steve rogers #captain syverson #walter marshall

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bigtreefest · 7 months

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Chapter 3: Honey Trap

From: You Catch More Bees With Honey Series

Pairing: Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader

Summary: A Farmer’s Market and Pouring out your heart over a beer leads to Bucky learning more about his favorite mysterious farmer

Content/warnings: mentions of previous heartbreak and descriptions, a surprising amount of crying/near-crying, soft mobster Bucky, Heartless Jake, Creepy Cole, mentions of blood/period (not graphic and should be normalized because this happens to me all the time and I know I’m not alone in that), excessive drinking and lowkey alcoholism, cowboy hat rule, mutual pining and reluctance towards that, y/n used like three times

Word Count: 5,295

A/N: I didn’t mean for this chapter to be this long, but also, I definitely meant for it to be this long. Sorry for making dear, wonderful, Jake Jensen out to be a bad guy, and NOT sorry for making Cole Turner a creep. Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks are SUPER appreciated. Thank you for reading, I love you *gives forehead kiss*

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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Bucky knew lots of languages. Country was not one of them. You would think it would be, with how many arms purchasers were from the south, but he kept his dealings with those folk as short and formal as possible. It was better for his sanity and everyone else that way.

He’d been running into a lot of country folk today, helping you run this farmer’s market out of one of your barns. Half of his conversations with people were full of twangy words and phrases he didn’t understand, so he just lightly laughed, hoping that was the right response. The other half were children, asking him what the bump was on the side of his head, the result of the bee incident earlier this week. Before, it was slightly swollen and red, but it was nearly back to normal. Darn kids have keen eyes, though, and no shame. He’d just about had enough. These people were too polite, besides their annoying children. Lucky for him, though, he’d sold off the last of the turnip greens, and his cash box was full, so he made his way over to you at the stand holding the freshly jarred honey you’d successfully, and he’d not-so-successfully harvested earlier in the week. It was just in time to catch the tail end of a conversation he saw you were having with a slightly older woman.

“You’re like our very own honeybee”

“Oh please, Mrs. Jensen, you know the bees do all the work. I just put it in a jar”

“You’re too modest, dear. My Jakey says no one makes sweeter honey than you. I always tell him to come back and help if he loves it that much, but it seems he’s too late now. Looks like you’ve got yourself a new farm hand who’s easy on the eyes”

Bucky glanced up at her through his eyelashes with his signature smirk, raising to a stand from setting the empty turnip green crate at your feet. “Well you know what they say, honeybees don’t work alone. And their hard work makes the world go round.”

For some reason unbeknownst to him, Bucky slung his hand over your shoulder. Was it jealousy he was feeling? Possessiveness? Why, he didn’t own you and he promised himself he wouldn’t fall, physically or metaphorically (although it was far too late physically, and he didn’t want to think about how close he truly was metaphorically). Plus, it’s not like he was having the best time right now. This whole week was a nightmare, and the only reason he was in a decent mood was from seeing your smile as you interacted with the town’s folk today. You were a person of the people, in juxtaposition to how Bucky was often only looking out for himself. So why did the mention of Jakey make this feel necessary and why did it feel so right? Either way, he was proud of you and your hard work and the way it made people beam as bright as Mrs. Jensen. But he’d never say that. Where he’s from, hard work is expected and definitely not praised, although not nearly as manual. But seeing all the effort for that couple jars of honey made him question if the work he was even doing was that hard. Maybe he’d been away from the city too long and was losing perspective. Yeah. That had to be it.

“Well, either way, bless y’all’s heart for putting in the work. I’ll tell Jake you say hello.”

You and Bucky both waved goodbye.

“Well how about it Honeybee, Jakey appreciates all your hard work” he smirked, but watched the smile slide off your face.

“Try telling me that with our awful breakup years ago” you shrugged off with a small chuckle, but Bucky could see the light drain out of your eyes a little. He had obviously struck a nerve, but didn’t want to push farther, at least not now when there were still a few customers aimlessly shopping around for the last bits of produce left. Maybe he’d catch you once the two of you were alone.

You turned away from him to hide your grimace. Thinking back to that whole situation with Jake, on top of serving others all morning had completely drained you and it was quickly catching up.

“Um, why don’t you finish cleaning up the rest of the empty crates after you ask those last few people how you can help them with anything” you waved off Bucky back towards the other end of the barn, head down, starting to look through the cash box he had handed you. You waited until you could hear his receding footsteps on the hay floor to sniffle and take a deep breath. Bucky had keen ears, though, and hesitated hearing your sigh, before he continued on, giving you your chance to regroup. He had never seen you like this before, you were normally chipper and full of energy, often a little too much for his liking, but luckily it was Friday, and after he closed these deals, you both were home free.

Bucky quickly helped the last few stragglers take their rather large haul back to their car. An older man and woman who owned the bar in town had come to get some fresh vegetables for their salads, and Bucky convinced them to take the lot with his charm. That, and he wanted to make sure he didn’t have to carry them all the way back to storage. That was a long way, and you made him walk it. He rolled his eyes when you had told him about the task, too, handing him the handle to a little red wagon with a beaming smile on your face, insisting “that’s how Pappy did it before his first tractor” and “what did you think, I like wasting diesel for food that’s supposed to have a low carbon footprint? That’s why I’ve got you, Bucket.” So Bucky grumbled under his breath at first light, angry, yet amused that the nickname stuck, but still too tired to react any differently when he started the first of his dozen trips to move the produce from storage into the farmer’s market barn. And there was no way he was gonna do that again, so he convinced the couple to take the lot, even offering to carry it out to the car for them, because that was better than the quarter mile walk both ways through the tall grass of your fallow fields to return them.

“Thank you so much for your help, Jamie. You’ve taken such good care of us, you should come by the bar later if you can get some free time from Miss Y/L/N over there. She’s quite the hard worker, maybe bring her along. Drinks on us.” The older lady looked at Bucky with a soft smile.

Jamie, no one had called him that since his mom. Country folk and their want for instant closeness. He hardly knew this lady and already she was trying to be endearing, but her forced charm was nothing compared yours even when you weren’t trying. She looked over Bucky’s shoulder at you carrying a stack of heavy wooden crates out of the barn, hardly struggling, but very determined before sliding them back into the truck. Bucky’s eyes followed hers, a small grin of admiration creeping onto his face at your independence and mastery at everything you do, no matter how simple.

“Yeah, hardest worker out there. I’ll see if I can convince her to take a break.” He turned back and walked the lady to her door, opening it for her to get in.

“Drive safely. Hope to see you later Mr. and Mrs. Carter.” He shut the door and made his way back over to your truck. You had already gotten in and started it with the windows down. Bucky slid into the bench seat to be met by you with your forehead resting on the wheel in between your hands. You took a sharp inhale and shot up, putting on a fake smile, albeit less forced than earlier.

“Ready to go meet Curtis? We’ve just gotta touch base with him and then we’re good to be done for the day.”

“Um, yeah. Sounds good.”

Bucky wasn’t sure how to continue with you in that mood. Should be keep talking? Did you prefer the silence to think? The radio was low on the dash, but not silent, so he decided to speak up.

“Did you see who I was helping? They said they own the bar in town. Maybe we can go for a drink tonight? Celebrate a long week done?”

You sighed. Again. “Um, yeah. I actually think that sounds really good. We both need the decompression. TGIF, ya know?” You forced out a small laugh which Bucky returned and he turned forward as you continued the drive back toward your house.

When the two of you entered the farmhouse, your were greeted by Curtis, your weekend farmhand, sitting at the dining room table. He had already helped himself to a glass of sweet tea you kept in the fridge, mainly for him, which was made from your Aunt’s recipe he loved so much.

“Oh, good, you’re back from chores already.” Curtis had been kind enough to come in today to work on some tasks since you and Bucky had your hands full with the market. He usually only worked Saturday and Sunday since this was his second job, but he’d sometimes come in to help extra, like today.

“Bucket, this is Curty b—oh sorry, Curtis. He’s the one that makes sure things run smoothly when I’m not. He’s a whiz at fixing the machinery, perks of him also being the best mechanic in town.”

Bucky warily stepped forward, eyes narrowed, barely noticeable, and shook Curtis’s hand. Who is this guy who let himself into your house? “Bucky is fine, really.”

Curtis let out a chuckle, “nice to meet you, Bucket. It’s ok, I talked to Y/N about making cheese curds once, and she’s called me ‘Curty boi’ ever since.”

Bucky laughed and shook his head, looking over his shoulder. You just shrugged with a small smile on your face, already more relaxed and relieved to be inside your home with someone you didn’t feel like you had to put up a front for, that was reassuring. Bucky went into the kitchen to get you both a glass of water as you sat next to Curtis at the table, joined by Bucky sitting across after he handed you your glass. The three of you briefly talked about the chores Curtis had done that day, how the farmer’s market went, and what all needed done that weekend.

Curtis seemed nice, not threatening. The visceral tinge of jealousy left Bucky’s body as the conversation went on. If Curtis was going to make a move, he would’ve done it by now, surely. But the two of you were clearly just close friends. Why did Bucky keep feeling like this?

As you wrapped up, Curtis slapped his knees with both his hands and went to stand. “Well, I better get going, sun’s starting to get pretty low.”

Curtis and Bucky had been getting along pretty well, so you spoke up. “Well actually, Bucky and I were gonna go to the bar in town tonight. Care to join?”

“Yeah, I’d love to. There are just a few things I’ve gotta check on in the shop first, but I can drop by after. Does that work?”

“For sure. We’ll see you then” You and Bucky shared a small smile before you closed the door behind Curtis and turned back to the mob boss standing in your foyer.

“Ok, Cowboy. Good job today. Go take a shower, we’re going out.” Bucky beamed, which you returned, and he felt a warmth bloom in his chest at your praise.

“Yes, ma’am, Miss Honeybee” you smiled and rolled your eyes as he ran up the steps, following behind to get ready, yourself. He was really glad your mood was starting to turn around.

As Bucky went to his room to gather his clothing, his mind started to drift towards why he cared how you felt. He was just here for business, right? So why did it bother him if you were sad? If anything, he should want you vulnerable to help him come out on top of your business, but something deep inside of him felt more satisfaction when you were winning. He shook the thoughts from his head. Maybe a cold shower could help him sort this out.

Bucky came down the stairs and sat on the couch just as he heard your hair dryer start up. He had gotten ready quickly, throwing on one of his henleys, his nicer jeans, and a pair of boots Sam had sent him this week when he had heard about the whole ‘borrowing clothes situation.’

He shot Steve a text, telling him that the two of you were going out to the bar with Curtis, to which he replied Have fun, Bucket😉.

Ugh, why did he have to tell Steve about that, it was never gonna go away now. Bucky had gotten a call from Steve each evening giving updates on the business, with Bucky doing the same on his end, keeping it short, only noting the highlights and trying to keep his emotions in check and out of the updates. His best friend knew better, though, even if Bucky wasn’t fully aware of the extent of his feelings yet.

Bucky got up and walked around, looking through the photos and knick knacks in your living room, before stopping by the mirror behind your front door and checking his appearance. This look wasn’t what he was used to. He was extremely dressed down compared to the designer suit he’d likely be sporting in one of his clubs if he were back in the city. He hadn’t even bothered to gel his hair because it seemed you didn’t care when he did, plus, he wanted to save that valuable product for a real occasion, no use in wasting it to go slum with a bunch of hillbillies. He looked to the coatrack next to the mirror to see a hat that matched his boots perfectly and plopped it on his head, swaying side to side to see how it looked.

Just then, you started to make your way down the stairs but stopped in your tracks seeing Bucky in that hat. His head snapped up to look at you.

“What? Does this hat make me look dumb?”

You smiled and shook your head.

“No, not at all” Bucky could see tears well up in your eyes, accompanied by sparkles of fondness and, sadness?

“That was my uncle’s hat. He taught me everything I know”

“Oh, I’m so sorry” Bucky went to take the hat off but you stopped him.

“No- it’s okay. It looks good on you. Go ahead and wear it out tonight.”

Bucky looked back at you with a somber nod as you continued back down the stairs, taking a deep breath to settle the emotions that had nearly breached the surface.

Even in this state, you looked gorgeous. Hair flouncing in the breeze that was created as you drifted down the steps, wearing makeup he hadn’t seen since the first time you two had met and a sundress that blew him away. You were gorgeous in all states because you were you. Bucky looked down, kicking his feet, to pull his magnetic glance from you. He’s really gotta switch up the power dynamic here, and if there was one place Bucky could feel at home after a week of embarrassing himself, it was a bar. He grabbed the keys and you followed with an eye roll, getting into the passenger seat of your own truck. He didn’t even know where he was going, but he looked at you with a sly grin. Like for the first time, he had the upper hand, and that would only come from being anywhere but on your farm.

Bucky was a good driver, despite his statements about some guy named ‘Gio’ and grumbles about Sam, who you had met once before. Besides that, the drive was filled with laughs reminiscing all the mishaps he went through that week, well, mostly you laughing, and Bucky doing his best to hold a smirk from showing too obviously, his eyes narrowed at you in contrast.

The two of you pulled into town as you pointed Bucky towards a decent-sized building which housed the bar, still nothing compared to what he was used to. The two of you hopped down from the truck and walked through the front door, which jingled, signaling your entrance.

Bucky was greeted by the smell of old wood and stale beer, the dim atmosphere lit with old neon beer signs and fluorescent lights which hung over the pool tables. You looked back at Bucky as you crossed the threshold where he held the door for you.

“Hey, all I’m saying is, I bet you wouldn’t last a week in my world the way I did in yours.”

You rolled your eyes as you sauntered up to the bar, taking a seat at the corner, Bucky next to you, and a few more empty seats to the other side of him that would hopefully stay that way until Curtis came. As the two of you had walked up to the bar, you had seen a bunch of girls groups whose heads turned, seeing the stranger that was Bucky make his way across the floor. Why couldn’t he be ugly? And why did you let him wear that hat? Bucky didn’t even notice. His eyes were only on you, besides his trained peripheral vision catching the eyes of men whose heads turned towards, doing the same.

“Oh please, Bucket, you hardly made it through this week. I’ve never seen anyone cut their finger on wheat before. How did you even do that? You were literally up on the tractor… wheat should not have been anywhere near your hands, yet you came to me with several paper cut-looking marks. And what do you even do all day? Your hands have calluses but a totally different kind. You can hardly toss a hay bale a story high into the barn loft. I’m sure it wouldn’t be that hard for me to just sit at a desk, bark orders, and sign paperwork all day.”

Bucky’s mouth gaped open as he feigned offense and put his hand on his chest.

You flashed a fleeting smile at him in satisfaction as you waved down the

bartender ordering two shots of whiskey and two beers.

“Now just because that’s all you’ve seen me do for work, doesn’t mean that’s all there is to it.”

“Oh really? Please, Bucket, then be my guest…indulge me.”

“Well, if I told you, I’d have to kill you, so take that as one of the common requisites.”

He smirked at you, obviously more comfortable in this bar environment before your phone dinged and it was a message from Curtis.

Hey Y/N. So sorry, something came up at the shop. Rain check?

Yeah, no problem. Hope all is good, see you tomorrow?

Yep! Ty

“Well, looks like Curty boi isn’t joining us, so it’s just you and me, Bucko”

At that moment, the bartender set down the drinks in front of you and you and Bucky took a shot together, ordering an appetizer sampler platter to go with your drinks.

As the two of you nursed your beers, you joked more about Bucky’s farm mishaps and talked about all the men you had turned down from Bucky’s organization to get him out here.

“I’ve gotta be honest, I don’t know how you turned down both Sam and Steve. I’m hardly immune to their charms some days”

You laughed and threw your head back. “It’s not easy. They’ve both got these puppy dog eyes they make when I say ‘no’ to them, but they seemed pretty satisfied with the fact I wanted to see you in person.”

“And why exactly was that? You never quite said”

“Well, at first, it started as a way to delay the deal, but then I realized, if I’m going to be making some major changes to somewhere I consider a sanctuary, I wanna make sure it’s with the right partner” you nudged him with your elbow playfully and Bucky gave you a small grin. “But honestly, if I’m going to do something these days, I wanna do it at the source. I hate hearing important news from third parties, I mean, you’ve seen how I do business. It’s all me at the end of the day. Sure, Curtis helps out, but otherwise, it’s better to deal with things on my own and a few trusted people” you finished that statement breathless from your heated ramble. This didn’t go unnoticed by Bucky at all. Where did that come from? At first, to him, you were just another bug to be squashed in order to get more control over his industry, but did he care now? Did he truly care about what was upsetting you? What caused that hurt you were obviously tampering down? Does this have to do with Jakey?

Bucky hadn’t realized he said that last part out loud until you responded.

“No! Well, maybe? Like, sort of?”

“Can I ask? Can I ask what happened there? Only if you want to share”

“Um… yeah, sure, I guess. You’ve embarrassed yourself enough this week so I think you’ve earned this a little bit.”

You took a deep breath and began. “Jake and I grew up together. We met in kindergarten in school and were instantly close. We were the only two gifted kids in class, so the teacher sent us to the side for extra lessons while the rest of the class learned with her. From that point on, we were inseparable. Two smart little twerps who took on the world together, but our lives were so different. In middle school, I started to take on more responsibility on the farm and he started getting into computers, but we’d still see each other. In high school we started officially dating, and I was so happy to be with someone who I felt like intellectually got me. I think it was the same way for him, too. He’d crack such nerdy jokes, and no one got them but me”

You smiled nostalgically at the memory. “When our senior year came along and my uncle wasn’t doing that well, I applied to more local schools, but he didn’t. We had always talked about going off to college and living together, but he wanted that life to be far away from here, and I had obligations. I got into the local college on a full ride for agriculture and civil engineering, and he decided he’d rather go to MIT for computer science. I asked if he’d be willing to stay since he got into college around here, too, but he said he wanted to be around people who were ‘more like-minded to him.’ As if we hadn’t been the only ones who had understood each other for over a decade.”

Bucky gave you a sullen look as your head fell and you looked down at your hands. He signaled to the bartender for a water and two more rounds of shots.

“I just, I just didn’t understand how he could act like that after so long. So I asked him when he was leaving so I could see him off. We were still friends, after all, but he left without a word. When I saw him again over Christmas break that winter, I felt like he had turned into some overweening, highfalutin, jerkwad. I didn’t really know him anymore, and I had enough to focus on already, so I just kinda stopped talking to him. As you could see today, his mom still comes around, but it’s not really the same. I don’t think she ever really truly saw the way he changed, she’s too caught up in having a son who lives in Silicon Valley now, but apparently he still asks for stuff from the farmers markets.” You shrugged and thanked the bartender for the shots, pounding all four before you excused yourself to the restroom, leaving Bucky to sit there shocked.

He had known where you went to college and how smart you are, but things like what happened with Jake don’t show up on paper. However he clocked you before, you were even stronger than that, because despite how you were hurt, you still wore your heart in your sleeve and showed compassion to everyone around.

You washed your face and looked in the mirror. Sure, that experience with Jake sucked, but it’s been years and you were over it now. Didn’t mean it was fun to relive it all. You decided to go into one of the stalls, the alcohol already kicking in and making you have to pee. You sat down and that’s when you saw it: blood. So that’s the reason for the waterworks all day today. That’s why you felt so tired and couldn’t help tearing up at the slightest things. Luckily the girl in the stall next to you had some products. You cleaned up and washed your hands, forcing a smile in the mirror until it became real, honestly relieved at having a reason for your out-of-character behavior. You headed back out to Bucky in a much more chipper mood and he looked up at you with a quirked brow. He figured you’d taken the time you needed. He was appreciative of you being so open with him, and wasn’t going to question the switch-up since he was just so happy to see you being yourself again after a long day.

“Up for a game of pool, cowboy?”

“Oh, you’re signing up to lose, Honeybee”

“Ok, ok, best four out of seven” Bucky whined as you giggled, whiskey shots catching up to you as you held another beer bottle in your hand. Bucky was hardly affected, he essentially rocked this much alcohol in his system by noon on a daily basis. Just then, his phone rang, and he motioned to show you it was Steve. You gave him a thumbs up and started to rack the balls to set up for the next game.

You watched Bucky walk out the door as you felt a presence looming behind you. You turned around and stood up, eyes tracing up a body dressed in brown hues until you reached a set of blue eyes shaded by a cowboy hat brim.

“Oh, howdy, can I help you?”

“I sure hope so. Can I get you a drink? Two whiskey sours” the stranger yelled over to the bar.

“Oh, uh, thanks.”

“My name’s Cole, Cole Turner. What’s a pretty girl like you doing here all alone?”

He was handsome, there was no denying that, but something seemed off. You plastered your best fake smile on your face. You didn’t need a confrontation tonight, not in your favorite dress. You didn’t want to taint the memory of it because of some rando. Wait. Was he a rando? Where have you heard the name ‘Turner’ before? Before you could continue your train of thought, a waiter came over with your drinks. They were very sweet compared to what you’d had all night, just like his demeanor, which seemed like a thin veil over the surface. You tried to channel your drink’s energy into your words to sweetly reply until you could properly remember who he was through your alcohol-fogged mind.

“Oh, I’m not here alone. I’m here with a friend”

“Hate to break it to you sweetheart, but I don’t see anyone around. You up for a game?”

Before you could even open your mouth to respond, he grabbed a pool cue and made a move to break. After that, he was keeping a little too close to you constantly. You did your best to stay kind, but must’ve been sending the wrong signals as he asked you “You wanna get out of here? I’ve got a hotel room down the road.”

In an attempt to change the subject you asked “Oh, so you’re not from around here? What are you doing in town?” Looking towards the door hoping Bucky would be done with his update any minute now.

“Ah, I used to live around here. My family owns a string of dairy farms. I’m here to try and convince these small-town farmers to give up the land.”

Your eyes went wide. Luckily you were facing away from him. He was that Cole Turner. The one whose family ran a packaged beverage empire and prided themselves on squashing the little guy. You were lucky he didn’t seem to recognize you yet, as the last remaining competitor in town. The one he had probably come in to squash. Just then, lost in thought, you felt a hand snake around your waist and you flinched.

“Relax, Honeybee, it’s just me” Bucky whispered in your ear. Your shoulders visibly relaxed as you turned around and threw your arms around his neck, holding on for dear life. You pulled away, but not enough for Bucky’s hand to leave your waist, and looked between the two men, grabbing Bucky’s hat and placing it on your head immediately.

“Uh, James, this is Cole. He’s visiting town.”

Bucky reached out his hand Cole shook it. Cole took a large step back after, respecting the hat on your head, and, was he intimidated by Bucky’s stature? Sensing your discomfort, Bucky spoke up. “Nice to meet you. Shame we’re heading out now.”

You grabbed Bucky’s hand, not looking back, and headed straight to the door as quickly as your numb, wobbly legs would take you. Once you were met by the cool, crisp night air, you sighed in relief and rested your forehead on Bucky’s shoulder.

“Thank you for helping me get out of there”

He shuddered at your proximity and the comfort you felt in this type of contact. It felt natural and he never wanted it to stop. With a soft smile and a glance at the top of the hat, he said, “No problem, Honeybee. Let’s get home.”

He helped you get up into the cab of the truck, sliding you across the bench seat before he got in and started it up.

“So what was the deal with the hat? And that guy?”

You yawned and stretched, settling in against Bucky’s shoulder.

“Uh, when a girl takes a guy’s hat and puts it on her head, it means she’s going home with him. And don’t worry, I didn’t mean it like that, I just wanted that guy to get off my back. We can talk more about that later.”

You wiggled to get more comfortable, your hand still in Bucky’s as he used the other to steer the truck down the old country roads. Your eyes fluttered shut as you fell asleep on him. His eyes flickered between you and the road in the headlights ahead. He luckily had a good sense of direction and was able to remember how to get home from your instructions earlier.

When he pulled into your gravel driveway, your were sound asleep, softly snoring, drool having dripped onto his Henley, but he didn’t mind at all. He lifted you out of the truck and carried you up the steps, taking off your boots before tucking you into bed for the night.

Next >

Bonus A/N: so where I’m from, “Turner’s” really is a beverage empire and they make really good products. I just figured I can’t make a farm AU without putting Cole in it, no matter how inaccurate to character.

Series taglist:

@scuzmunkie

@openup-yourmind

155 notes · View notes

howlingday · 1 year

Text

Weiss: Wait, where's Team JNPR?

Ruby: Jaune said that he was gonna do his own superhero thing.

Blake: Really?

Yang: Mhm. But he didn't say who with.

Nora: Aw! I've never seen him so happy! (Sniffles) Nora need tissues... (Takes tissues) Thank you, Hulk.

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

Jaune: (Web-swing) THIS IS THE GREATEST DAY OF MY LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIFE!

Hulk: Hammer girl welcome.

Ren: How long will that thread last?

Spider-Man: It was a spare cartridge, so it should last a few hours. You know, I do have another one if you'd like.

Oscar: Uh, n-no thanks. I'm, uh, not a big fan of heights.

Captain America: It's okay if you don't. There's no shame in being afraid.

Pyrrha: I never thought of it like that. I'm not sure my semblance works like that, though.

Magneto: Polarity and magnetism are not so different, as I'm sure you know. When you dedicate yourself to a cause you believe in, there is little that can stop you.

Pyrrha: Hm...

#rwby #weiss schnee #ruby rose #blake belladonna #jaune arc #nora valkyrie #lie ren #oscar pine #pyrrha nikos #yang xiao long #marvel #bruce banner #the incredible hulk #peter parker #spider man #steve rogers #captain america #magneto #max eisenhardt

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mandyyvibes · 4 months

Text

Steve still felt a little guilty that Bucky was willing to do all that for him. Did he really deserve his unconditional loyalty? He could’ve picked anyone at school to be best friends with, but he picked him, and Steve would never know how he got so lucky. The thought of running away was comforting, anyway, even if maybe they couldn’t actually leave for a while. Days, weeks, months.

In which Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes grow up together under circumstances that no child should have to face, and Bucky paints Steve daydreams of a better life together, if only they could run far enough.

For an even better look at @alwaysabrighterdarkness amazing artwork, view it on ao3! Endless thanks to the mods of @stuckybangs for putting on this awesome event, this has been so much fun to participate in.

#marvel #bucky barnes #steve rogers #ao3 #ao3 author #fic rec #fandom event #stucky bangs #stucky reverse bang 2024 #stucky #kid!stucky #coming of age stucky #modern!stucky #stucky fanfic #stucky fluff #stucky angst #mutual pining #friends to lovers

43 notes · View notes

levans44 · 13 days

Text

Apartment #3 - Chapter 7

pairing: steve rogers x undercover!reader

warnings: 18+ SMUT*, Neighbors to Friends to Lovers, lots of angst, heavy mutual pining, hurt/comfort, eventual smut/romance/fluff

summary: as an undercover agent at SHIELD, her newest assignment involves moving in across the hall from her target. she's strictly ordered to keep her distance—no personal contact besides the absolutely necessary. the only issue? her new target neighbor turns out to be Captain America.

author's note: an idea that's been living in my head ever since steve asked sharon for that cup of coffee in their apartment hallway. as a SHIELD agent, the reader's real name has been [REDACTED] to preserve anonymity.

masterlist

taglist: @tsofo26 @yvonneeeee @cass0419 @nekoannie-chan @felicitylemon @nada3000 @rorilisa @observantplum-blog @strepsils123 @mrsevans90 @smhnxdiii @rorilisa

“Geez, neighbor, you ever take a day off?”

It’s a warm, sunny Wednesday when she runs into Steve again. She sighs out a laugh, spotting her neighbor from down the hall who’s jumping up the last few steps of the stairwell. Clearly coming back from a run in a compression shirt and running shorts, though it looks like he’s barely broken a sweat.

He looks up and notices her gaze, smile growing wide. Reaching her in a few long strides, he slips the earphones out of his ears and hangs them around his neck. It’s an endearing detail, really—when’s the last time she’s seen someone with non-wireless headphones? The music blasts loud enough for her to hear from a few feet away, though she can’t quite make out what song.

“Sorry,” He smiles apologetically, reaching into his pocket and pressing pause.

“… couldn’t hear you over the music. What was that?”

“Nothin’” She smiles, double checking the lock on her door before slipping her keys into her tote, turning back to face him. She hoists her bag over her shoulder and looks up at Steve, watching as his eyes flit down to the bag then to the rest of her outfit—a bright sundress adorned with baby blue flowers and sage leaves, a pair of sunglasses hanging from the sweetheart necklace—it’s obvious she’s determined to take advantage of the rare sunny day before the temperature starts dropping again.

“You look, uh…” He halts mid-sentence, eyes darting off to the side and he runs a hand over the back of his neck.

“…is this your day off?”

She blinks, his reaction a reminder that this was the first time he’s seen her without those ugly blue scrubs and the dull backpack she takes to ‘work’ every morning.

“Yeah, thought I’d head to the store. Get some groceries for the week.”

And for once, she wasn’t lying—on her rare day off from SHIELD, she’d planned an ideal day of leisurely grocery shopping at the cute supermarket she’d been eyeing down the street, perhaps picking up a few flowers on the way back to spruce up her lifeless apartment.

Steve nods, smiling, and she notices there’s a little bit of pink in his cheeks that match the shade of his lips.

“Sounds fun.” He taps his keys against his palm absentmindedly, eyes glancing back toward his door. Then, he takes a pause, pursing his lips before adding:

“Hey, uhm… do you mind if I come with you? I’ve actually been meaning to grab a couple things.”

She blinks, taken aback by his question. She takes a moment, searching for a good enough excuse to turn him down. When she fails to find a way to reject him without sounding like an asshole, she nods, leaning against her door.

“Sure, Steve, but only if you promise to carry my groceries on the way back.”

The brief walk to the store feels strange with Steve by her side.

It’s the first time she’s hung out with Steve outside of their apartment—their tiny little bubble. And suddenly, it feels an awful lot like a whole different occasion.

Like a date.

She tries to shake off the thought, but every time his arm brushes against hers as they walk alongside the cobblestone sidewalk, the feeling in her gut only grows stronger.

She’s almost relieved when they reach the shop at the end of the block—a small local business with only a few patrons inside. The bell at the door chimes softly, and she’s immediately calmed by the scent of pumpkin and cinnamon—part of the early thanksgiving decorations adorning the entrance.

They make their way through the store slowly—Steve pushing the cart, steps parallel to hers.

She’s not sure why, but it takes her by surprise just how comfortably Steve moves around the store. Every moment spent with him reminds her of how little she actually knows about the famed super soldier.

Captain America plucks a block of gruyere off an overwhelmingly vast array of cheese with ease. Flawlessly explains the difference between heirloom and on-the-vine tomatoes, and what to look for to pick out the sweetest strawberries. Like a curious child, she’d find herself peering over his shoulder, fascinated by the extent of his knowledge on things that likely hadn’t even existed during his time.

Plus, the thought that they could have easily met somewhere like this, in the organic produce aisle of a local grocery store, makes her a little lightheaded.

It’s strangely intimate to discover what kind of toothpaste Captain America buys, the scent of soap he prefers. To see him reach into the back of the shelf for the same brand of coffee she buys. To share her favorite bag of sour gummies with him, dropping two in the cart so he could bring home one to try.

As they approach the floral section of the shop, her gaze wanders over to the colorful array—potted mums in shades of blue and purple, bundles of red roses wrapped up in cellophane, and copper buckets teeming with golden marigolds.

“Flowers?” Steve remarks gently, curiously eyeing the floral array from beside her. Out of everything in the grocery store, this was perhaps the only domain she knew more about than Steve.

“Yeah. Thought I’d decorate a little.” She remarks distractedly, eyes narrowing as she bends down, picking out a vibrant pot of grape hyacinth. She steps back, admiring the deep blue hue of the star-shaped petals before looking up at Steve.

“See any you like?”

Steve blinks, and it takes a second for him to register her question, eyes flitting away from the flowers in her hands as he starts to shake his head remorsefully.

“Oh, no, I can’t. I’m… away so often, I’d feel bad if I got something I couldn’t keep alive.”

She nods understandingly, pursing her lips as she turns her attention back to the floral section. This time, her eyes trail over to the array of succulents and house plants.

After another moment of consideration, she lowers her flowers into the cart before reaching forward for a clay pot with a plump, green succulent.

“What about this one? It’s called Echeveria. It’s pretty low-maintenance and can handle a bit of neglect.”

Steve blinks, an unreadable expression crossing his face as he eyes the tiny green plant she’s holding up in her hands. A small moment of silence passes, and finally, he nods.

“That’s perfect,” he says quietly, his gaze lingering on the soft, rosette-shaped leaves. “I think... I could manage that.” His voice is thoughtful, and she senses something unspoken in his reaction.

“Good choice,” she murmurs, giving him a small smile as she lowers the plant into their cart before continuing down the aisle.

The warm feeling swirling around in her stomach suddenly dissipates when they reach the register.

Her eyes snap over to a rack of newspapers nearby, immediately zeroing in on the bolded headlines that contain the word ‘SHIELD.’ A quick scan and she realizes the article was describing a recent alien attack on Times Square, one that had her working overtime this past week.

“Ready to check out?” Steve’s voice interrupts her thoughts as she perks up, glancing over at him.

Leaning against the handle of the cart, he’s smiling at her expectantly, oblivious to what’s behind her.

“Uh, yep, all good.” She murmurs, maneuvering around the front of the cart, shielding the newspaper rack from him view.

She doesn’t know why she even feels compelled to hide the news, seeing as how the Avengers had been the first to be deployed to the scene.

Perhaps some part of her wished that, for one moment in her life, she could imagine a life that wasn’t tangled up with SHIELD.

One where an alien attack could just be an alien attack.

Where Steve could just be her neighbor.

They move up toward the only open checkout line, and she smiles at the cashier—an older man wearing a green apron with a crooked name tag clipped to the front: Terry R.

As soon as the store clerk spots Steve behind her, his face lights up.

She immediately grows tense, worried that he might’ve recognized Steve’s face. She holds her breath, fearing the worst.

Instead, the clerk nods casually at the super soldier, grinning widely.

“Steve, how you doing my man? Been a while since I’ve seen you.”

Her eyes widen in confusion and she glances over at Steve. He only smiles, shaking his head.

"Sorry, Terry, didn't mean to fall off the map. Been a little busy these days.”

“Oh I bet.” Terry chuckles, sliding a loaf of brioche across the scanner.

From the vagueness of that response, it’s difficult for her to decipher whether Terry was privy to Steve’s superhero alias. Regardless, it was clear that Steve was a regular patron of this store, enough to be on a first-name basis with the workers. Before she can dwell on it much further, though, Terry’s gaze travels over to her.

“This your friend?” The man smiles warmly at her, crow’s feet tugging at the corners of his hazel eyes.

Steve nods, smiling as he looks over at her.

She leans forward, meeting Terry’s hand from behind the register.

“Hi, I’m Jess, nice to meet you.”

“Terry. It’s nice to meet you too, young lady.”

A small pause as Terry surveys her with a smile, warm light behind his eyes.

“How do you two know each other?” He continues, scanning the last of their items. His hands move expertly across the screen as he types into the cash register.

“We’re neighbors. Jess moved in across the hall from me." Steve responds with ease, stepping closer to her so he could help bag the groceries that had been scanned.

"That right?" Terry hums, turning to her with a raised brow. "How do you like the neighborhood, Jess?”

"It's amazing, actually."

“Good, good. Glad to know you’ve got someone like Steve looking out for ya.”

Another vague comment that leaves her wondering whether Terry knows that his favorite patron is actually Captain America.

Distracted by her thoughts, she almost misses the moment when Steve reaches into the back pocket of his jeans, pulling out a brown leather wallet.

“Oh, no, I got it, most of this stuff’s mine anywa—” She tries to interrupt, digging for her wallet in her tote, but she’s too late.

“—gotta be faster than that, hon.” Terry laughs from behind the register as her gaze snaps up, realizing Steve had already handed over a 50 dollar bill.

She purses her lips, knowing that her stubbornness was no match for his, so she finishes up gathering their groceries and bagging them up.

“Alpine still around?” Steve asks casually, glancing around the store as Terry prepares their change.

“Ah, probably out and about somewhere. She’ll be back by dinnertime though.”

Steve nods, a soft smile on his face as he takes the receipt from Terry and drops his change in the donation jar by the register. They both thank him, waving goodbye as they carry their bags out of the store.

“Uncalled for, neighbor. I asked you to carry my groceries, not pay for them.”

She huffs, turning back to Steve once they’re out of Terry’s earshot. She’s got a paper bag clutched her chest, struggling a little under the weight as she pushes on the glass doors with her forearms.

He chuckles from behind her, transferring his bags over to one hand while pushing the door open for her with ease.

"Don't worry about it. Consider it payment for letting me come with you today.”

She shakes her head, rolling her eyes as they make their way out of the store.

“Fine, but I’m buying next time.”

"Next time?”

He gives her a sideways smirk, and she immediately feels her cheeks heat up.

"Yeah, you know, if I ever need a hand with the bags again."

He only nods in response, a smile lingering on his face as his gaze returns forward.

They set a slow pace as they head back toward the apartment, moving in comfortable silence.

“I’m glad you got to meet Terry.” Steve remarks, stepping closer to her to let another pedestrian pass by.

“Yeah, he seems nice. How do you two know each other, by the way?”

Turn’s out, Terry was the store’s owner. One of the first people Steve had met after moving to Brooklyn. He’s always given Steve discounts on bread and other groceries in exchange for weekly banter.

“I don’t think he’s got much of a family besides his cat.”

“Is that who Alpine is?”

“Yeah. She’ll show up around the shop occasionally and say hi. I’m glad Terry’s got her to keep him company.”

She can't help the small smile that pulls at her lips, a warm feeling blooming in her chest.

“Well Terry’s got you too, doesn't he?”

Steve pauses, before glancing back at her with a soft smile.

“Yeah, I guess he does.”

When they reach the apartment, she finds herself bounding up the stairs, even with an armful of flowers and heavy groceries.

She nods along to Steve’s story, smiling as he recalls adopting an alleyway cat with Bucky when they were younger.

“I bet you were a good kid, huh? Let me guess. Class president? Never got into any trouble?

“Ah, the opposite, actually. Bucky and I used to get into all sorts of trouble. We’d skip last period to catch a trolley to Coney Island."

“Coney Island?”

“Yeah, have you been?”

She shakes her head, which immediately elicits a frown from Steve.

They reach the top of the stairs when he halts dead in his tracks. She swivels around, glancing up and down at him, amused at the apparent look of shock on his face.

“You’ve been living in New York for, what, years and you’ve never been to Coney Island?”

She blinks, taken aback by how Steve seems genuinely offended by something so trivial.

“No offense, Steve, but isn’t that place a little… old-fashioned?” She trails up, squinting up at Steve as a smile tugs on her bottom lip. “…it hasn’t been renovated in decades.”

He scoffs, shaking his head incredulously as she starts smiling harder.

“You say that cause you’ve never been.” He smiles, quirking a brow. A small pause, a few more steps down the hallway, before he takes another breath.

“…are you busy this weekend? Bucky and I have been talking about going, if you wanted to come with us.”

“To Coney Island?”

“Yeah to Coney Island.” He nods, and the smile he gives her is so bright and sincere that it makes her heart lurch a little.

She purses her lip, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. This would make it the nth time she’s violated Fury’s orders—so many that she’s virtually lost count at this point.

“I, uhm—”

She’s graciously interrupted by the sound of footsteps emerging from down the hall—Steve’s head snaps up in the direction off the stairs before he immediately lets out a polite smile.

“—Mrs. Rockwell! How are you?”

“Sam, is that you dear?” She follows Steve’s gaze to find Mrs. Rockwell shuffling down the hallway, leaning on her cane.

She steps back, smiling at the way Steve rushes forward to offer the old lady a hand and help her to her door, and again at the way she pats his hand with a gentle smile.

“Thank you, Sam.” He does’t correct her, just nods with a polite smile as the woman enters her unit at the end of the hall.

“Of course, let me know if you need anything else.”

When Steve returns back to her spot, she’s awaiting with a teasing smile.

“You sure are a good neighbor, Sam.”

He brushes off with a quiet chuckle, as she reaches for her keys, stepping back in the direction of her door.

“So, I’ll see you this weekend?”

Shit.

Unable to reject him outright, nor give him an adequate excuse, she settles for a playful shrug and a quick:

“Maybe.”

“Alright, just let me know.” Steve nods, and if he’s disappointed by her response, he doesn’t let it show.

As she steps inside her apartment, her heart races immeasurably faster, grocery bags still clutched tightly in her hands. She closes the door behind her, resting her forehead against it for a moment, trying to steady her breath.

“Maybe.” she mutters to herself with a sigh.

But even she isn’t sure what that means anymore.

Apartment #3 Masterlist

note: a very very late update, I know, but I needed to see this fic through b/c I have so much in store for these two 😖 thanks for sticking around!

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darsynia · 2 years

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Just Right Masterlist | Steve Rogers x F!Reader Complete

Summary:

You’ve been in love with Steve Rogers for at least a year, but he treats you the same way he treats every other member of the team– with respect, but nothing more. It takes an inter-dimensional mistake and a whole second, more assertive, actually interested Steve for you to realize that you don’t want just any version of Steve Rogers– you want the one you’ve been pining for all this time.

Warnings: (two Steves? Do we warn for two Steves?) allusions to the blip

Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader

@avengersbingo Square Filled: 'Is it permanent?'

Length: ~28k

Notes: A story about shaking up the status quo and knowing when to let yourself break the rules. Rated T for swearing and kissing. Mostly fluff with a side serving of light ok that was a damn lie angst.

MAIN MASTERLIST | MCU MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8 (complete!)

(planned smut sequel: RIGHT THERE) <- honestly Steve is STEVE so this might be a while (or a time jump)

Taglist: @ronearoundblindly @munstysmind @tiny-anne @themaradaniels @starryeyes2000 @chickensarentcheap @isasalom @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @deepbatched @qvnthesia @ekoannie-chan

#avengersbingo #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america x f!reader #captain america x reader #captain america #steve rogers #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x you #captain america x you #romance #pining

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callalillywrites · 1 month

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A Dream on a Mean Machine 1

I'm going to start by saying I wasn't expecting this to be such a beast of a first part. That said, I'm not unhappy with the results. I definitely tried to create more tension between the two of them compared to the fluffier stuff I normally write.

Bucky is really such a sweetheart while Steve is a pure menace in this.

Welcome to the first part of my Cool Rider Barber Shop and Hair Salon series.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Other Characters: Reader's brother, Steve Rogers

Word Count: ~7100

Summary: Bucky's going on his first date since getting free from Hydra. In order to look his best, Steve drags him to the Cool Rider Barber Shop and Hair Salon for a haircut and a shave. There, Bucky meets the famous, Stephanie Zinone (Reader's codename), who owns the place and does his hair.

Warnings: insecurities, mentions of violence (nothing too graphic), some language, Steve being a menace, anything I forgot let me know

A/N: I wrote this beast of a story in a few hours. While I did go through and proofread, any mistakes are mine and mine alone. Yes, Reader has a codename (used all of like 4 times), but she's still a reader who may or may not share some personality traits of the character she's chosen for said codename. She's still a blank slate to fill in as you desire.

I do not give permission for my work to be copied or posted on other sites or fed into an AI machine.

“Hey, Stef, you going to be okay?” your brother asked from the back doorway.

You looked up from where you’d been giving your workstation another spot clean. Nothing could be less than perfect for this next client. Not with the obscene amount of money being paid to rent out your entire salon for this new VIP.

“I’ll be fine, Davey. Take the others out to a nice lunch. I should be done here in a couple of hours.”

Your brother hesitated another moment before he finally nodded. His footsteps retreated until you could no longer make them out.

A glance at the clock on the far wall warned you your client should be there any moment.

When you’d spoken to both Pepper Potts and Tony Stark about renting out your salon, they never once mentioned who the client would be. If you had to guess, it had to be an Avenger. A simple agent wouldn’t warrant this level of privacy.

Then again, none of the other Avengers who’ve quickly become loyal clients of your salon never really bothered with having the place vacated for them, either. Sure, they picked the slowest times to schedule their appointments to keep their celebrity down, but that was about the extent of it.

You had to smile at the thought of a new Avenger joining the growing list you already had as clients. If they weren’t yours directly, they came in and worked with one of your fabulously talented employees. The fact that your talented staff came in such high demand had you ready to do a little victory dance where you stood.

It was really a dream come true how far your barber shop and salon had come in the years since you first took over.

All that was missing was someone to share your success with. Someone to call yours and you theirs.

Before you could get too far down that thought trail, a knock came at the front door.

You locked it earlier to keep any would-be walk-ins from trying their luck. Not that your place allowed walk-ins with the clientele you’ve built the last few years.

Going to the door, you smiled upon seeing the golden god of a man known as Steve Rogers.

With a twist of your wrist, the lock released. You pushed the door open and said, “Well, long time, no see, Goldie.”

“Goldie? That’s a new one, Steffy.” Steve chuckled. His eyes always sparkled with a bit of mischief every time he came around. This time was no exception.

Your smile widened. “Well, your hair’s gotten too dark for me to call you Blondie or Honey. So, it’s Goldie now. You my special client? Surprised you want the whole place to yourself. Something I should know about?”

“No, no,” Steve quickly assured before his head shifted to his right. “It’s not for me. It’s for…”

Your gaze followed the direction of Steve’s until it collided with the solidly built man leaning sullenly nearby. At least you thought he appeared sullen until you noted how his gaze never settled in one place for too long. His alertness had gone into overdrive.

A soft exhale was wrenched from you when his gaze landed on you.

Oh.

You’d recognize this man anywhere.

James “Bucky” Barnes, WWII vet and former Winter Soldier turned Avenger.

More importantly, your grandpa’s biggest hero.

Far greater than the blonde standing in front of you.

How did none of his photos, past and present, do him any justice? It wasn’t fair how handsome this man was as you took in his features without trying to appear too creepy about it. Those steel-blue eyes damn near hypnotized you without trying. They reminded you of a clear Nevada sky. Then, there was his long, dark hair that called out to you and your fingers. It dared you to see if the strands were as silky as you hoped they’d be.

“Buck’s got a date tonight,” Steve said, breaking the silence. “Think you can work your magic for him?”

Well, that news sent a bucket of ice water down your back. It took everything in you not to shiver at the chill and give away your thoughts to these two men.

Instead, you made sure to keep your smile on your face as you nodded. “You doubting my skills, Rogers? Don’t make me buzz that glorious hair. You know I’ll do it.”

Steve’s hands came up in surrender. He quickly stepped into the shop and took a seat in the small waiting area.

You had to bite back a laugh at the way his features shifted from horror to pleading. The poor guy really could look like a kicked puppy when he wanted to. Simply wasn’t fair he could use that face and get away with anything, but then, it was one of the reasons you two had become friends. You really couldn’t resist his sweet face.

It was that sweet face that made you even more determined to find him someone, too.

If anyone deserved all the love they could get, it was Steve Rogers. You weren’t put off, either, after learning that the famous Black Widow was also on the same trail for him. Between the two of you, you were going to get Steve his happily ever after.

“Alright, Goldie, sit there and behave. No more quips about my skills, or you’re next.”

Satisfied Steve would listen, you turned your attention to the man who’d crept in behind you. His quiet steps nearly unnerved you. He really had no right to have all that muscle and build and be so quiet with it.

You gently introduced yourself to him, extending your hand.

His brows drew together as he blurted, “Thought your name was Steffy. Isn’t that what Steve just called you?”

“Codename. We all have them here. Can’t be too careful nowadays. Only a select few know our real names, and that includes you now.” You dropped your hand since he hadn’t tried to take it. Instead, you gestured toward the chairs. “Shall we? You have your pick: T-Bird or Pink Lady.”

The clueless expression on his face had you biting back another smile.

“Ah, another newbie to the musical greatness that is Grease and Grease 2. Come, I’ll educate you while we get you set up.”

You moved around him and stepped further into the salon where he could see the alternating chairs in black and pink design. On the back of the black chairs was the trademark logo of the T-Birds. The pink chairs bore the Pink Ladies trademarks. It was well worth the expense of having.

Nodding toward the different chairs, you continued toward the closet where you kept all your capes and other necessary items.

“Feel free to drape your jacket on one of the other chairs. It’ll be easier to cut your hair without the collar getting in the way.”

You didn’t stop as you spoke, or you would’ve seen the way Bucky froze at your words. The idea of taking off his jacket hadn’t crossed his mind and had him threatening to spiral a bit. While he’d worn a long henley in deep blue, he still wouldn’t be able to really hide his left arm from you. For some reason, he really wanted to hide it from you.

He couldn’t help thinking about how beautiful you were. How confident, too, in your space.

As he took in the shop’s décor, he could almost feel like he was back home in the forties. Sure, there were aspects that didn’t fit, but it had a welcoming aesthetic that called to those old memories.

Soft music played in the background, which you’d turned on near the back wall. While he didn’t know the song, he liked how it reminded him of simpler times. His memories might still be jumbled from all his years under Hydra’s control, but he could pick out pieces here and there.

It took him another moment and a deep breath to remove his jacket.

He set it on one of the T-Bird chairs while he settled into one of the Pink Lady chairs. They didn’t remind him of that awful chair Hydra used to strap him in. The soft leather even felt nice under his hand as he tried not to grip it too tight to leave impressions of his fingers.

“Hey, you okay?” You asked, coming to stand in front of him. A frown had replaced your bright smile, and Bucky already wanted to find some way to bring it back. “We have all the time you need. We go at your pace. Promise.”

As if to solidify your words, you brought up your hand again. This time, you extended your pinky and waited for him to make his move.

You couldn’t quite hide your surprise or your pleased grin when he finally brought his pinky up and looped it with yours.

“Alright, now that’s settled.”

Showing him the cape, you waited for his nod before placing it around him and cinching it loosely at his neck.

“Not too tight?”

He shook his head.

“Perfect.”

You spun the chair until he faced the mirror. It’s not lost on you when he grimaced at his reflection, but you wisely kept your mouth shut for the time being.

“I’m going to touch your hair now, okay? I want to get a feel for its thickness and texture. Stop me if it gets too much.” You kept your voice soft as you spoke, not wanting to spook him.

As before, you waited until he nodded to proceed.

You graced him with another smile for being so cooperative. Your fingers started at the front and gently combed through the locks at his temples until you reached the tips. As you guessed, the strands had a decent thickness with a silkier texture than you first imagined. It wouldn’t have been hard to continue to just run your fingers through his hair. But you had a mission, and you weren’t going to let him down.

What would your grandpa say if you didn’t do your absolute best for Bucky Barnes?

Returning your attention to your job, you met his gaze in the mirror. “Have an idea of what you’d like done? A trim or something a bit more dramatic?”

His eyes clouded while his lips thinned.

You could feel his muscles tense despite her fingers still running through his hair. The tension radiating off him had you wanting to wrap him up in a tight embrace and comfort him. You could well imagine all this had to be overwhelming. That begged the question of why he was going on a date tonight. He didn’t even seem all that thrilled, but then, you didn’t know him well enough to know for sure.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. With what Stark paid to rent out my place, I’m more than happy to just sit here with you and talk. Or not talk if that’s what you would prefer. You want me to simply wash your hair and style it, I can do that, too. Whatever you want. You have my word, Sergeant.”

His eyes widened while his entire body shifted from tense to shock.

“Yeah, I know who you are. James Buchanan Barnes. Sergeant from the 107th Infantry Division. WWII. POW. Veteran. The man who saved my grandfather at Kreischberg.” You gave him a warm smile, happy to find the tension slowly ebbing out of him.

Deciding it best to continue, you added, “You took his place when they were experimenting on Allied soldiers. Sick as you were, you still stood up for him. He died last year before he got the chance to know you still lived. He did get to see his second favorite hero though before he died.”

Before Bucky could ask, your gaze drifted over to where Steve sat in the waiting area.

“I know everyone adored Cap over there. My grandfather did, too, but he never failed to talk about you more. You certainly left a lasting impression on him. He even named my father after you and Cap. James Steven. A lot to live up to, but my dad was never one to back down from a challenge.”

When you said your grandfather’s name, Bucky’s eyes widened. He remembered that name. Your grandfather had been built a lot like Steve before the serum. It hadn’t been much of a stretch for Bucky to become protective. Your grandfather had been a fresh-faced eighteen-year-old, too, if his memory recalled correctly. How could he not do what he could, sick or not, to keep your grandfather safe from Hydra’s hands?

Another thought niggled its way to the front of his mind, pressing to ask, “Is Steve…”

“A good friend, yeah.”

Resuming your earlier ministrations, you decided to use this time to talk. You both had plenty of time to get to the actual haircut if Bucky changed his mind.

“We actually met during that alien invasion a couple years back. I wasn’t even sure it was him until his helmet thing came off, and I saw his face. He took a nasty hit from one of those Chitauri guys. Knocked him flat onto his hands and knees. Such a cheap, cowardly blow, too. Deserved what it got for doing that.”

“What did it get?”

Your gaze dropped to Bucky’s hair, intent on combing through the strands with your fingers. He’d begun to relax again, and you wanted as much time as you could just being allowed to touch him like this. You had a feeling that could so easily change if he let you get near with your scissors or shaver.

“My best pair of scissors lodged in its neck. Grandpa always loved that you were a sharpshooter. Taught me everything he knew. Competed for several years during my high school and university days. He was also the reason I got into dagger and axe tossing as well. I’m a pretty good shot. As Clint likes to brag, I can never seem to miss.”

“She’s not wrong,” Steve hollered from his seat in the waiting area. “She took that thing down with little effort and cursed it out for ruining her scissors. Never thought I’d hear a dame with a mouth like hers. I still maintain I had it handled.”

“Sure you did, Goldie,” you shouted back, doing your best not to laugh. You failed as your shoulders shook despite your best efforts. Dropping your voice to a whisper, you brought your head closer to his so you weren’t far from Bucky’s ear. “Wanna know the real reason why I call Steve those nicknames of mine?”

Bucky swallowed at your proximity. Everything in him screamed to have you come closer as you continued to soothe him in ways he hadn’t felt in so long. He really wanted you to keep playing with his hair.

When he nodded, you bit your lip before admitting, “He just reminds me of a golden retriever. In the best way though, so please know I mean no offense.”

“You’re serious?”

You nodded, then called out, “Hey, Steve, come here a sec, would ya?”

It didn’t take Steve two seconds to come bounding into the heart of the salon. When he stopped, he shifted from one foot to the other as though he couldn’t settle while awaiting whatever orders you had for him.

You had to bite your lip harder to keep your laughter at bay.

“Can you fetch me that folder from Goose’s station? I wanna let Bucky check out some of the newer styles. See if he likes any of them.”

It took everything in you not to burst out laughing at how quickly Steve followed your orders. He had the folder in hand within moments and erased the distance between you two. When he held it out to you, his head tilted to the side as if awaiting a treat or another command. You just knew he would be wagging his tail if he had one.

“Thanks, Goldie. I’ll let ya know if I need you again.”

Steve nodded, then retreated to the waiting area.

When he was out of sight, you returned your attention to Bucky with a ‘see what I mean’ look.

“That was so wrong,” Bucky said, but a chuckle escaped him. An honest-to-goodness laugh escaped. His eyes scrunched at the corners as he tried to hold back more laughter at his friend’s expense. “You have a mean streak, doll. I like it.”

So lost in the realization that you’d made Bucky laugh, you almost didn’t hear, let alone comprehend, the pet name he’d given you. When you did, you could feel the heat suffusing your cheeks in pleasure.

The folder turned out to be a good idea.

Bucky flipped through the various photos of different styles that had either gained popularity or regained it in the last two years. He finally landed on one that seemed to hold his interest the most.

The model had a shorter, more dramatic cut.

Bucky would be losing all but five-eighths on the sides. The top would keep some length though nothing compared to what he currently had. It’d be enough to keep hair pulling or tugging an option. You always liked guys who kept enough hair on top for gripping, but…

You shut down that thought train before it could get properly started.

He wasn’t cutting his hair for you. Not that you would ever ask him to with how pretty it looked with its current length.

Though, a girl could dream, couldn’t she?

As you continued to study the one he liked, you couldn’t help thinking how he wouldn’t be able to hide behind his hair with this style. His eyes would be allowed to pop, too, when he wore the right colors. This included the henley he was wearing.

Hell, he could probably wear almost anything, and he’d be devastating.

His date was one lucky lady.

Shoving your unprofessional thoughts aside, you picked up your shaver and showed it to him. “This okay? It’ll go quicker than me manhandling your hair with my fingers and scissors.”

“We had them back then, doll. Not as fancy as that one, but they did exist,” Bucky said.

If you knew him better, you would recognize the teasing in his voice as he met your gaze. He actually liked how much care you were taking with him, wanting him to have the best experience at your salon. It’d been a long time since someone had shown him any type of kindness.

When you didn’t move, he realized he didn’t exactly answer your question. He still couldn’t believe that you were holding to your promise not to rush him and check in with him. Not even the other Avengers had handled him with such care since bringing him onboard some months ago.

“Go for it.”

You smiled at him.

Oh, he was getting addicted to your smile. It just brightened the whole room and made him almost believe that he was worthy of it.

Lost in thought, he didn’t see you move behind him. That surprised him as he always kept his guard up, especially around new people. He’d long since learned he couldn’t trust others, not with what he’d done as one of Hydra’s assets. Danger always lurked in strangers’ motives.

Yet, he wanted to trust you.

Steve trusted you. So did the other Avengers.

“Such pretty hair,” he heard you murmur before your hand ran through his locks. He had a feeling he wasn’t supposed to hear that with how low you spoke, but the words continued to ring in his ears and through his mind. He hadn’t been associated with pretty in so long. Maybe never.

The shaver clicked on after another moment, taking the first of many paths across his head. His long locks fell to the ground around him until he had quite the pile surrounding him. Closing his eyes, he let the sound of the shaver and your soft humming lull him until he jerked back to reality when you clicked the shaver off some minutes later.

He couldn’t believe he’d actually nodded off.

That had never happened before.

When he glanced in the mirror, he stared in shock at how different he looked. You weren’t done by any means, but he didn’t look like he had minutes ago. He wasn’t even sure he recognized the guy staring back at him.

“Come on, stud,” you said, nodding toward the sinks. “Let’s wash your hair now, then I can finish up the rest of your new look.”

Again, he chose one of the Pink Lady chairs near the sinks. It took him a little bit to relax before resting his head in the cutout of the sink.

“Doing okay?”

He breathed in and out, then nodded.

You smiled at him. “Yeah, you are. I wish all my clients could be as great as you’re being. I’ll have to see if I can find you a treat when you’re done. I think Rizzo has some lollipops stashed at her station.”

“I don’t need a treat, doll. It’s fine.”

Bucky figured you dropped the argument when you didn’t counter his words. He couldn’t tell if he was more relieved or disappointed that you didn’t.

That thought soon disappeared though.

The water hit him at exactly the right temperature, dousing his head until his hair dripped.

Then, your hands performed their magic with the sweet-smelling shampoo your salon used. The way you massaged the shampoo into his scalp nearly had him moaning aloud. It just felt that good, and he hadn’t been prepared for it. Neither had his body with the way it reacted to your hands in his hair. He’d never been so grateful for the cape covering him.

You soon rinsed out the shampoo and followed it up with a conditioner that had the same sweet smell. Your hands repeated the same process as the shampoo, making his body even more aware of you and your closeness to him.

It really wouldn’t take much to grip your hips and tug you closer. The desire to do just that nearly overwhelmed him. To keep himself in check, his hands gripped the chair.

He could make out the floral notes of the perfume you used. It intoxicated him.

The sweet torment of your touch, smell, and proximity ended all too soon.

Water doused his head once more, removing all traces of the conditioner. It was soon replaced with a towel that quickly collected the stray water droplets that tried to break free and race down his neck as you helped him sit back up.

Before he knew it, you were leading him back to your workstation.

Taking his seat, you moved behind him again and lowered the chair for the first time. You even shook your head as you mumbled, “Tall guys. I just have to like tall guys.”

Bucky swallowed at that. Could you like him? Would that even be possible?

No, he had a date tonight. He shouldn’t be thinking about you like he had a chance when he should be concentrating on his date.

As if you had the same thought, you asked, “Tell me about your date tonight. What’s she like? Or he? They? I don’t want to assume.”

“She,” he said, a small grin at your need to correct yourself. You might have a mean teasing streak, but you weren’t unkind. “I, uh, don’t know much about her. Sam set it up for me.”

“So, it’s a friend of Wilson’s then? He didn’t give you any information on her?” You picked up your scissors and a comb before turning toward him. “I’m going to start in the back and work my way forward. Okay?”

He nodded.

After you got started, he recalled your questions. “She’s not a friend. Sam said I needed to date. Put me on some of those apps. Tinble or something like that.”

Your brows lifted as you bit your lip.

He caught it in the mirror as his eyes haven’t stopped watching you since you started working. It took everything in him to ignore the way your fingers danced through his shorter locks.

Just as it was taking you not to laugh at whatever he said that was so funny.

You soon enlightened him by asking, “You mean Tinder? There’s also Bumble. It’s newer. I can’t blame you for mixing them. There are so many out there nowadays. Makes my head spin with the many options.”

“Do you use them?”

You shook your head. “Nah. Too busy with my salon here. Besides, I know what I’m looking for, and I know I’m not going to find him on any dating app.”

“What are you looking for?”

When you smiled, it had a dreamy quality that had Bucky holding his breath. Oh, how he wished he could be exactly what you wished to have.

To his surprise, your smile turned cheeky when you said, “I’m looking for a dream on a mean machine.”

Whatever he’d been expecting, it hadn’t been that.

Steve’s loud laugh echoed through the shop, having heard her answer from the waiting area. The punk followed it by saying, “Thanks for that, Steffy. I got that reference.”

“You should, Goldie. It’s a requirement you know it if you’re wanting to be a client here at Cool Rider.”

Now, that had Bucky’s attention. Before he could stop himself, he blurted, “You have requirements for your clients?”

“Just the Avengers. Well, mainly Tony. Such an insufferable ass though he does have a few good points to redeem himself now and then.”

That didn’t answer his question at all, but you weren’t finished thankfully.

“After saving Steve that day, he was the first to stop by my salon. He really liked the aesthetics. Reminded him of the old days. While he didn’t know anything about Grease or the best musical ever, Grease 2, he kept coming back. Eventually, he brought some of the other Avengers with him.”

You snipped several small swathes of his hair before you continued.

“One of those times, Tony tagged along. That man, I swear, wouldn’t stop commenting on my Grease theme and décor. Then, he had the nerve to tell me he’d never seen either film. After all his badmouthing, I’d had it. Told him I refused to service him again until he watched the movies and could be quizzed on both.”

A small chuckle escaped.

“He had no idea I was mainly teasing him, but the threat worked. From what Steve told me, Tony made all of them have a movie night where they watched both musicals. He even came up with every possible question I could quiz them on and made them answer each question correctly. Never would’ve guessed I had that much power over a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Did I get that right, Goldie?”

“Yeah, sounds about right,” Steve hollered back. “He’s been complaining about his hair getting too long, so I’d expect an appointment soon from him.”

“And why didn’t you tell me this earlier? You know we need all the warning we can get when it comes to Tony, Goldie. He always shuts down my place at the worst times. Doubling my rate. Tell him that, won’t you?”

Steve acknowledged he heard you.

Satisfied, your voice returned to normal as you shifted to Bucky’s left side.

He did his best not to tense at your proximity to his metal arm. If you hadn’t mentioned it, then he didn’t want to point it out. Maybe there was a chance you didn’t know he’d been used as a weapon for so long. Though, he had his doubts as you’d known everything else about him.

“So, where are you taking your date tonight?” you asked, changing the subject with a quickness that Bucky feared he wouldn’t ever be able to keep up with you.

How he wanted to do just that surprised him, too.

He finally named the restaurant. It was a fancy place that Tony had set up for him, which meant at least a nice suit and tie. Both of which, Bucky really couldn’t stand to wear.

Maybe he wouldn’t mind so much if his date was anything like you.

Stop it!

“I’ve heard some nice things about that place, but you really strike me more as a smaller, cozier type of restaurant guy. Any reason why you chose something so fancy?” You paused then as though the words you just spoke finally hit you and the implications you’d made with them. Horror entered your eyes as they met his in the mirror. “That was…so rude of me. I apologize. I shouldn’t have made assumptions like that.”

Bucky shook his head, letting his smile emerge albeit awkwardly. “It’s fine. I know you didn’t mean any offense. Tony made the reservation. Told me to wine and dine her with the best the city had to offer. But you are right about me.”

Relief washed through you. Your smile returned as you finally asked, “Name your favorite place then.”

There was no hesitation as he named a little Italian bistro near your salon and the Tower.

Your smile grew. “That’s one of my favorites, too.”

He bit his tongue before he could think about asking you to join him there sometime.

Silence fell between you for the next few minutes.

In that time, you finished clipping his hair down to the right length and adding some layer and texture to it. You moved from his left to his front and finished on his right. Your movements had been smoothly fluid. Almost like a dance you’d learned long ago.

He had to admit he was mesmerized watching you work so quickly and efficiently. Watching you move the way you did. You never seemed to second guess where you needed to cut or the way it would look once you did.

That was something he’d never really experienced outside of the jobs he’d been forced to do for Hydra. Get in, get out with the least amount of mess left behind. He’d been good at it. As sick as it was to admit, he knew it was the main reason the newly reformed SHIELD even allowed the Avengers to take him on. Fury wanted him for his expertise with quick, efficient asset recovery and cleanup. Extract and sanitize wrapped in nicer packaging all over again.

It wouldn’t do to dream of being anything more. To dream about being with someone like you. You deserved someone without half the baggage he came with. You deserved someone more like Steve if he was being honest.

He really needed to put you out of his mind before you nestled too deep. Before you could manage to sneak your way somewhere even more locked away than his head. A place like his heart.

Crazy. It was crazy.

The two of you had just met. He shouldn’t feel like this about you.

Yet, he couldn’t deny that he did. He really did. That scared him, too.

You would never be safe with him in your life. Compared to the other Avengers, he would always be a target, and anyone attached to him would have the same mark on them. It would only be a matter of time before you’d had enough of him and being in constant danger because of him.

No, it was better to make this the first and last time he ever saw you.

Even if it hurt him to never see you again.

Something dark had entered Bucky’s mind. You could sense it in the way he tensed his muscles before forcing them to release, only to repeat the cycle all over again.

You had to find some way to distract him.

Landing on his face, you noted the way his full beard didn’t really fit with his shorter hair. As much as you liked its fullness, you could see the potential of trimming it down close to his face. It might even lessen the strain you could make out around his mouth.

Okay, you really shouldn’t focus too much on his mouth. You really didn’t need to go down that road, or you might start thinking about what kissing him would be like.

Get it together, you silently admonished yourself.

Even still, you couldn’t stop yourself from running a finger along his bearded cheek, drawing his attention back to you.

“Your beard is beautiful, but a trim might be in order. What do you think?”

You mentally high-fived yourself for how normal you made yourself sound right then. Hopefully, you could keep it up until he finally left your salon, ready for his date that evening.

“I, uh, whatever you think is best,” he said, his voice deeper than it’d been before.

Could it be that you affected him as much as he did you? Oh, now that was a dangerous thought.

Bringing yourself back, you shook your head. “Against the rules, stud. It’s your decision whether the beard stays or goes, not mine. I will say that our beard trims and shaves come with a facial massage and skin treatment.”

He shifted in his seat.

You could make out his hands rubbing up and down his thighs. Even without the cape, you recalled the way his legs had filled out his tight jeans. The man had actual thighs of steel.

He finally nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay, what?” You couldn’t help prodding him a little. After all, you needed to hear the words. If this was going to be his show, then he needed to decide and say it clearly, so you understood. After all his years of having no control over his life, you wouldn’t take even a second more from him if you could help it.

“I think it’s time for a shave, too. Go big or go home, right?”

You smiled. “Right.”

Since your station didn’t normally carry any of the items you’d need, you headed over to Goose’s station and picked through what he had. Thankfully, you had understanding employees who didn’t mind sharing when something came up. Plus, Goose’s equipment surpassed those of Kenickie or DiMucci.

Not wanting him to get nervous while you set up, you decided to ask him another question. It was nice to hear how he opened up in a way you had a feeling he didn’t do all that much with others.

“Well, we’ve covered who your date is and where it’s taking place. How about what you’re driving to get yourself there? It’s safe to assume you’ll be wearing a nice suit, so…” You allowed your words to trail off in the hopes he’d picked up from there.

Bucky didn’t disappoint you, either.

“Well, I don’t have much besides my bike, but I could always take the bus or subway to get there.”

“He’s taking one of Tony’s lesser fancy cars,” Steve offered so helpfully, still eavesdropping with little to no shame. You could almost imagine he wore a shit-eating grin every time he jumped into the conversation to appear so helpful. “I think Tony mentioned one of his BMWs.”

“Of course, he did,” you mutter, shaking your head.

Tony Stark was nothing if not pretentious in the types of cars he liked to drive and be seen in. You couldn’t really see Bucky wanting to drive something like that, but then, you doubted he’d have much choice with the restaurant he was going to.

Deciding to keep that observation to yourself, you said instead, “Well, it’s nice to see Tony knows how to share.”

With everything in hand, you headed back to your station to drop them off, then went off to retrieve a hot towel.

“I’m going to cover your face for a few minutes,” you held the towel up for Bucky to see, “but I won’t be far.”

His grin appeared again. Almost cheeky in the way one side curved up as he said, “I’ll be fine, doll.”

Oh, you just knew he was aware of the effect he had on you. It simply wasn’t fair when you were certain you didn’t have the same power over him. The nerve of this man to call you ‘doll’. It was so wrong the power of the pet name had, going straight to the heart. A dangerous man indeed.

Shoving those thoughts aside with all the other inappropriate ones you had for this man, you covered his face, taking an extra moment or two to ensure the towel covered him. No folds were in sight. You spared another moment or two of massaging his face through the towel to ensure it sat properly.

Satisfied, you went to work on building up your favorite lather, also stolen from Goose’s stash. You preferred this gentle soap as it had little fragrance and tended not to irritate clients’ skin.

To your surprise, he broke the silence with a question. “What do you think of flowers?”

Your brows rose before they drew together, unsure what his question hinted at. There were so many different directions you could answer it, but you didn’t want to say the wrong thing and put him off. So, you did one of your worst pet peeves. You answered his question with a question. “What about them?”

“Guys still bring them for their dates these days?”

Oh.

How did that make him so much hotter?

You seriously needed to get a grip on yourself or risk falling hard for a man that would never be yours.

“Not so much, no,” you finally managed to say before quickly adding, “but I think they’ll be a nice, unexpected touch. Is that what you did before the war? Bring flowers to your girl?”

“Girls,” Steve offered up. “Buck was never without a girl on his arm. Sometimes, two if I was meeting up with him. Pity date and all that for the scrawny Brooklyn boy.”

“Steven Rogers, you are not a pity date for any woman. Now or back then. I’ve seen pictures of you, and there was nothing wrong with you. It was always their loss if they didn’t see the rare gem you were and still are.”

You lifted the towel off Bucky’s face and flashed him a smile. Your voice dropped low, so Steve wouldn’t overhear as you said, “Your past doesn’t define who you are, either. Sure, it’s a part of you, but so is the man you are now and the one you were before Hydra got their hands on you. You are worthy of every bit of love you can find in this world.”

Bucky’s Adam’s apple bobbed several times.

“I see it now.”

“What’s that?” Your brows drew together.

Bucky’s lips curved up at the corners. “Why Steve likes you so much. I get it now.”

You beamed at him. His praise meant far more than it should for such a short acquaintance. Yet, that didn’t stop you from having to blink back tears before they managed to run down and mess up what little makeup you’d put on that day.

“Alright, mister, let’s get you finished up for your big date. You’re going to knock her socks off if I have anything to do with it.” If your own socks were already knocked off, then that would be your secret and yours alone.

The first few strokes of the lather brush felt a bit awkward since it’d been a minute from the last time you shaved a client. It came back to you though and soon you had him covered with the first application. When you were satisfied, you rushed over to grab a second towel from the warming rack.

With the same care as you used before, you placed it over Bucky’s face, molding it to the lather. You shot him a small grin as you whispered, “Doing so good here, stud. Almost done.”

Goose’s everyday straight razor took a minute to sanitize and reset with a new blade. He preferred using single-use blades for their easier disposal over sanitizing and reusing a conventional straight razor. That wasn’t to say he didn’t have one, but no one, not even you as his friend and boss, were allowed to touch the reusable one or its strop. That was his and his alone. His most prized possession.

With the razor intact and ready to go, you turned back to find Bucky’s eyes on you. You did your best to hide the warmth his gaze caused, but you were almost certain you failed at this point.

To hide the way he affected your nerves, you quickly removed the first lather you applied and the towel covering it. You’d never been so satisfied than in that moment to see it all came off without missing a spot on his face or neck.

“Alright, stud, I’m going to need you to stay as still as you can for me. I’ll make this as quick and painless as possible. Really don’t want to nick your handsome face before your date tonight, okay?”

The small grin he shot you had you nearly dropping your lather cup. “I’ll do my best, doll.”

“It’s not nice to tease a lady with a razor, Sergeant.”

The nerve of this man, you couldn’t help thinking as he didn’t appear the least bit repentant.

Not to be outdone, you lathered him up again, making sure you covered every inch you needed before you picked up the razor and made the first of many gentle scrapes across his skin. Muscle memory had you finishing up within minutes of starting.

The rest of his shave went smoothly until you got to the last step.

“Which one do you prefer?”

You held up two bottles of aftershave, letting him take and inspect them at his leisure. One had a spicier scent while the other had a cleaner, more natural scent to it.

He chose the latter.

It took you moments to pat it into his skin until you were certain you’d done your job well. The same moments you realized you would shortly be forced to say goodbye to him.

Before you could think better of it, you leaned into his space and pressed your lips as softly as you could to his cheek.

His breath hitched at your action, but he didn’t appear upset.

Taking that as a win, you retreated with a small smile. “A good luck kiss for your date tonight. It was an absolute pleasure to meet you, stud, and to work with you. I really hope we’ll get to do it again.”

*****

Main Masterlist

If you'd like to be tagged, reply to me here or message me. I do expect Bucky's story to span a couple more parts. If you want to be tagged for the whole series with the other characters, please reply to the master post.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #female reader #x female reader #steve rogers #platonic steve rogers #barber shop au #hair salon au #grease theme #grease 2 theme #a dream on a mean machine #cool rider barber shop and hair salon #fluff #meet cute #mutual pining #slow burn #first date

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