#sams ears keep popping up so i will have to pin them down a bit more (but i cant find my fav needle 💔) and i gotta figure out some

[crunchchute]

tumblr is being nice so here you can have a look at my cosplay wips :]

[alrxiin]

"Losing My Mind"

Sam x Darlin' (GN! reader) || angst

TW's : Non-consensual turning, blood, mild character violence, emotional distress, Sam going off the deep end.

Summary : It's been a while since your talk with Sam, and his fears have been slowly making him worse and worse... He one day comes home and when you don't respond, his paranoia takes over.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

It was a normal night at work, and a calm way back home. Nothing in the world could have been wrong, nothing but Samuel's own mind.

Ever since the Vamp had a talk with his lover, his already worried thoughts of the Shifter somehow leaving him earlier than anyone could have predicted, have at least tripled in the last weeks.

Unlocking the house, he slid off his shoes and hung his jacket up beside the door with a soft call-out to his love.

- "Darlin', I'm home." — Yet he received no reply.

It should've been normal, since it was still night, and they were most likely still asleep in their shared bed.

The only wrong thing was his now overflowing thoughts. Worry shot through the man and he started his search, going from one room to another only to see no sign of the Werewolf.

His callings went on deaf ears as Darlin' slept on the couch, a pair of earphones in their ears, playing music to keep them occupied, had only made them fall asleep waiting for Sam.

When the, now completely panicked, Vamp had finally found his mate on the couch, all bad thoughts jumped into his head with a renewed power.

He knelt down beside the couch, gently shaking Darlin'. Seeing as they slept heavily from the overthinking of their last talk, shaking them seemed to have no affect for a while, only when their mate had gone into something like a manic episode, had they stirred awake.

- "Sam?.. You're home?" — Their sentence gets cut short as he brings them into a tight hug.

- "Holy shit, you gave me a heart attack Darlin'." — He nuzzles his face into their neck, shivering when he feels the blood glowing under their skin. So close yet so far.

- "What? How, I don't think I did anything... Are you alright?" — Worried for their mate, they gently pulled Sam's face away from their neck, earning a soft almost growl from the man, confusing them even more.

- "Sam?–" —

- "Darlin', I don't think I can keep going like this." — His voice strangely stern, the Shifter couldn't help but look at him almost hurt.

- "What do you mean? Love, please, now you're giving me a heart attack." — They chuckled awkwardly, trying to de-stress themselves at least a bit.

- "I can't bare being worried about you every day. I can't lose you... I won't lose you." —

Before they could get any word out, the Vamp pinned Darlin' to the couch as softly as he could, his overpowering strength finally showing as they let out a yelp of surprise, squirming under his touch.

- "Sam, what's going on with you?!.." — But he didn't seem to hear them, or at least didn't want to.

- "I'm so sorry Darlin'. But I can't let you leave me, I've been so close to losing you, too many times to count." — As they looked up into his eyes, there was no Samuel there, only red piercing eyes staring into theirs. He put his hand up to his mouth, and perfectly on command his fangs popped out, piercing his skin.

As blood flowed, he put the bleeding hand on Darlin's mouth, forcing it open as gently as he could make himself in the state he was in. He leaned down, ignoring the whimpers of his sweet mate and pulling their head to the side.

- "This has to be done, Darlin'..." — Was the last thing he whispered out in a falsely comforting tone, before sinking his fangs into his lovers neck.

Blood flowed into his mouth, an overpowering metallic taste sending sparks down his back. And at the same, Darlin' drank from his hand, the Vamp's blood strangely tasty yet unwanted.

When he pulled away panting, they were dizzy, but not dizzy enough. As Sam was finally coming back to his senses, they put the last bit of their power into work, bringing themselves to half-shift and push the Vampire off of them.

With tears in their eyes, they stumbled to their feet, looking down at the man in betrayal.

This wasn't the Samuel they loved, the one who was so gentle, and who always assured he would never mistreat them like a certain rogue Vampire had back in the day.

- "What the fuck is wrong with you?.." — Were the first words coming out of their mouth, a hand on their neck where Sam had bit them, blood still flowing.

- "Darlin'–" —

- "Don't even try that with me, Samuel. I learned my lesson with Quinn and I'm not gonna let myself get hurt again..." — Unsure on what to do, he only looked up at them in shock, bits of blood still tingling on his lips.

- "I can't believe you, after everything... You only turned out like him." — They sniffled, quickly turning around on their heel and bolting it out of the mans house, leaving him with a sting in his heart and an overwhelming awareness if what he had done.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

That was the day Darlin' had lost their love, and the ability to shift...the only thing that they could have been proud of themselves for. In their eyes, the pack would never see them as family again, and so they left Dahlia for the last time, alone.

With Sam...Their once shared house now so empty again, the Shifters things were still scattered all around from the decorating they have done over the years, for they haven't come back for them. Days had gone by, turning into weeks, and Sam was yet again left alone in the woods.

The loneliness he once wanted and cherished so bad, now bringing him down with every day, and the moment he betrayed his love replaying in his mind.

"You were so afraid to lose me in years after, you had lost me even sooner. I am no longer Darlin', I am Tank to you."

That's the message he had gotten from them, spoken through William when he had to meet with him.

Like Maker, like Prodigy... right?

[pizza-is-my-buziness]

Fictober Prompt Day Three! Prompt: "Okay. Show me."

Pairing: Deena Johnson/Sam Fraser (Fear Street)

Read story below or on Ao3!

Somewhere near the middle of Nebraska, Sam rolls the window down and lets in the breath of late summer air, sharp and smelling of baked asphalt and the fields they’ve been driving past for what feels like days. The wind toys with the loose strands of her hair, as well as the scattering of candy and chip wrappers, and the carefully copied directions that sit on the dashboard, thankfully pinned into place by a Portishead tape. The action isn’t entirely a surprise, given that sometimes the AC craps out or they need a break from the recycled air and the monotony of the road or, as evening stretches into night and they’re still miles from the next cheap motel, a sudden jolt of fresh air to bring them back to life. But still, Deena looks over at her, eyebrows arched in amusement, and Sam looks, well…Sam looks far too good for someone whose been traveling in a car for three days, the afternoon sun on her cheeks, the wind tangles of her hair caught in the breeze as she leans her head to get a better look at all the nothingness around them.

Deena rolls her window down too to keep her ears from popping, trying to keep half her attention on the empty road, most of it on Sam. “You’re not gonna jump out or anything right?” She teases, mostly. “I mean, I know the drive is boring but-” 

Really, this is a bit of a stretch. If Deena hadn’t already been stupid in love with Sam, this drive would’ve definitely cemented that feeling right in the center of her chest, like the sturdy roots of a tree growing to push out everything but that fact. Because the drive really hasn’t been boring, not with Sam beside her. They’ve cycled through all the tapes they’d brought in a collected three shoeboxes more than once, singing along when the time was right, giving each other shit about the music choices they didn’t have in common, or sometimes scanning through radio stations from every town and city they’d driven through, trying to find something good among the static. Right now, they’ve managed to hook onto some underground college station for far longer than Deena had expected them too, all the way out in the middle of nowhere, Joy Division proclaiming mournfully that love will tear them apart. And, over the steady stream of music, there had been the cheesy, childish car games, endless rounds of I, Spy that had continued until one of them had been laughing too hard to continue. Conversations about what they would do once they finally made it to the end of what Deena is already starting to suspect is an endless road trip to some mythical Oz with a magical, perfect new life waiting for them at the other end. Silences that had felt just as comfortable as all the rest of it. 

Though, there isn’t much to be said about their scenery for the past hour or so. I, Spy would’ve ended quickly enough: something brown, something flat, something endless. Deena can feel the steadiness of it, the rumble of the car, the melancholic mood of whatever college student had programmed this particular broadcast, the endless expanse of earth and sky starting to wear on her, creating a fuzzy-headed exhaustion that certainly doesn’t bode well for the hours they still have ahead of them.

Sam laughs, settling back down in her seat and letting her arm hang out the window instead, her fingers tapping against the side of the car. “No. I just thought we could use a little bit of air.” She looks at Deena, her other hand reaching up to comb through her hair, to brush it back over her shoulders, only for it to be taken by the wind once more. “You okay? Pull over if you want to switch.”

“Nah, I’m good,” Deena assures her and the radio station finally succumbs to the static she had long been anticipating. She pops the cassette back into place, one of Sam’s picks: Weezer and the jarring guitars of “Say It Ain’t So.” “It does kinda feel like we’re the only two people left alive though, right? Like…when was the last time we even saw another car?” 

Sam leans forward, carefully collecting the pages of directions they’d put together over afternoons spent shoulder to shoulder in the Sunnyvale library, road maps and atlases spread out around them, the thrilling promise of escape making them lean a little closer than they might have otherwise. When suddenly everything was tied to the countdown, it all felt slightly more bearable: finishing her classes in Shadyside; having to say goodbye to Sam each afternoon with a furtive kiss several blocks away from the house where Sam’s mother would be waiting impatiently for her return; the memories and nightmares she would rather forget. Deena had planned out most of the route, her mind whirling through miles and hours and the amount of time they could feasibly spend on the road each day, even with the two of them trading off time behind the wheel. Sam had filled in the stops in between, gas stations and motels and those ridiculous roadside attractions like the largest chair or a place that promised a trained alligator wearing a tutu. Most of the time they didn’t really linger, not with all the driving they had ahead of them, the days and days that it would take them to finally make it to Portland. But they had at least stopped in to see the alligator, which had been wearing a tutu but seemed to be trained to do nothing but sit around. 

“There should be a gas station in a few more miles,” Sam says, the papers fluttering in her hands, the wind humid and hot but not entirely unwelcome. “We can get out there and stretch for a bit.” 

At the mention of it, Deena’s muscles immediately start to feel sore and achy, voicing their own complaints about the drive that feels like it’s taken far longer than the four hours they’ve spent on the road today. She rubs at the back of her neck and looks at Sam and feels that bubbling excitement start in the center of her chest, spreading through her with a thrumming fizz that makes it all too easy suddenly to ignore stiff muscles and endless fields. Fuck. They’re doing this. They’re really doing this. Even though it’s been days since they’ve left Shadyside behind, it still feels like it hasn’t fully sunk in, the fact that they’ve left and that every moment spent on this stupid, endless road is a moment that takes them further away. They’ve got everything they couldn’t stand to leave in the trunk the car, suitcases and laundry baskets in the back, and some place to call home waiting ahead of them. 

Sam catches her eyes and smiles and there’s something in her face that lets Deena know that she gets it, that she feels the same way, that it all seems too good to be true. Sam leans forward to stash the directions carefully back on the dashboard, reaching for Deena’s hand with hers, and says, “Would you rather only listen to Madonna or Whitney Houston for the rest of your life?”

They argue over this for the next twenty miles, until Sam finally abandons her point long enough to point out the sign of a rather questionable looking gas station. Though they’re down to a quarter tank and Deena thinks her muscles might atrophy completely if she doesn’t get up right that minute, so they pull up alongside one of the four pumps outside the building. There’s another car, a minivan seemingly full of kids and dogs, a weary looking man studying a map spread out across the hood while a woman fans herself in the heat and checks her watch. Neither of them glance over when Deena pulls into the parking lot and Deena can only sympathize with their weary expressions. Games of I, Spy in that car have surely gotten unruly. 

Sam gets out, stretching her arms and tipping her head back toward the cloudless sky overhead and Deena presses her teeth together because she really, really wants to kiss her, and fully intends to as soon as the world shrinks to just the two of them again. Again, that startling feeling of excitement starts to sneak its way through her, enticing and terrifying all at once, whispering that soon there will be a place where she can do exactly that, always. 

Instead, Deena only watches as Sam disappears into the store to pay for the gas before leaning against the warm side of the car, eyes studying the road ahead of them, the miles and miles to go before they sleep and all that. 

And Mrs. Johnson thought she never paid attention in English class. 

Finally, the bell above the store’s door chimes and Sam appears once more, grinning in a way that leaves Deena feeling both curious and slightly wary of what might have put that particular smile on her face. Sam lifts her eyebrows, coming to stand in front of Deena with her hands behind her back. “I got you something.” 

Okay, definitely more wary then. “What?” 

“Guess.” Sam’s grin only widens. 

“Um…” Deena tries to peer over Sam’s shoulder but Sam just shifts out of the way. “I’m guessing it’s not a Twix.” 

“No.” Sam pauses, considering. “Well, I did get one of those too. But, nope.” 

Deena just shakes her head, feeling a smile of her own start to take root, coaxed on by Sam’s grin. “Okay. Show me.” 

Sam relents, grinning as she brings her hands out from behind her back. She’s holding a camo hat with a patch stitched on the front that says “hey deer” with a picture of a buck beside it and Deena blinks, glancing between Sam and the hat. “Uh…thanks?” 

Sam laughs, pulling the hat down on Deena’s head and tapping the bill lightly. “Perfect fit. I knew it.” 

“Gee, thanks,” Deena says, pulling the hat off and studying it. It’s completely ridiculous and she can’t help but laugh. “It’s just what I’ve always wanted.” 

“I know,” Sam says, leaning against the car and crossing her arms over her chest. “I definitely expect you to never, ever take it off again.” 

“Maybe you should wear it, since you love it so much,” Deena teases, turning to retrieve the gas nozzle so she can fill up the car and get them the hell out of here, somewhere where she might be able to sneak a kiss or two when she’s supposed to concentrating on the road. 

Sam shakes her head, holding up her hands. “Nope, it’s all yours. It was practically made for you…dear.” 

Deena puts the hat back on, mostly because it earns her another toothy grin from Sam, though she does her best to feign a pout. “There. Happy?” 

“Very.” Sam nods. And then her smile softens and she shrugs. “But I usually am.” 

And this…this is exactly why they’re driving across the country, throwing themselves into a life in a place they’ve never seen before, one they’ve only crafted out of conversations and wishful thinking. This is exactly why Deena suddenly has no complaints about getting back behind the wheel of the car and putting even more miles between them and Shadyside and getting them forever closer to what is waiting at the other end. 

“Yeah.” Deena nods, grinning as she looks down at her feet. “Yeah, me too.” 

[holylulusworld]

Hey Lulu..Wrote a little something for you

😈🫠🫣

( So Y/N has been teasing Dean all day since they got home, a light graze of her hand over his thighs inching higher but just not reaching where he wants to be or eating a lollipop sitting right opposite to him on the dining table looking straight into his eyes..nothing about her eating that candy is PG-13 or maybe bending down in front of dean to pick up something which she “accidentally” dropped giving him just a slight peek of…… Poor Dean has been on edge all day. But there is nothing he could do about it rn. With today being sam’s birthday, the bunker is full with their people jody and the girls, bobby, castiel, jack, charlie. The whole gang is here and he just hasn’t got the chance to get her alone..until sometime in afternoon, everyone is busy and he finds her in the kitchen baking pie. And as she turns around, she is pinned to the nearest well, Dean hovering over her tiny figure, his hands keeping hers captive by the side of her head)

Dean- So you think you can tease me all day and get away with it…

*he asks against shell of her ear, his breathing making her whimper and he chuckles a bit*

“ Oh sweet girl, there are gonna be consequences, you see tonight, i am gonna eat something even more delicious than this pie”

*he takes a bit of cream on her fingers and licks them one by one not breaking the eye contact and releases them with a pop*

“And those giggles you are having while teasing me…i m gonna turn them into moans and screams of my name…and baby…these sound proof walls won’t be able to hold them off”

*With that he winks at her and walks out of the kitchen with pie in his hands and smirk on his face leaving a flushed and well throbbing Y/N Behind*

Hear me out. Hear me out. HEAR ME OUT LOVELY! 💕💕💕

I had a very stressful day at work. It's too hot. But this made my day.

I can see Dean paying you back the sexy way. His smirk. I can even hear his voice and the chuckle when he walks out of the kitchen.

Thank you for making this stressful day better. I'm going to think about Dean teasing Y/N for a little longer...😳😳😳

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Acrylics | Headcanon

Requested? Nope

Warnings? None

CC's Included? Corpse Husband, Dream, Awesamdude, Wilbur Soot, Sapnap, BoomerNA, Punz, Quackity, Karl Jacobs

Word Count: 1,730

My first ever set of headcanons! Pls feel free to tell me if they suck or if you want more!! My requests are always open :)

Corpse

-you’ve had earrings for years now and didn’t think acrylics would mess you up

-you were definitely wrong

-you suddenly became notorious for dropping earring backs, losing them in the carpet, and fumbling around for minutes at a time

-corpse had noticed you had started to take longer and longer getting ready

-he knew you loved changing your earrings, matching them to your outfit, and making a whole outfit out of it

-and yet one morning you two were actually headed out to get breakfast together

-when you were taking a while he decides to check on you and see if you’re okay

-he walks into the room, watching you pout in frustration as you tried again to put in your earrings

-he can’t help the small smile on his lips that occurs, watching as you tried over and over to put the jewelry in your ear

-he walks over, placing his hands on your shoulders until they fall down over your hands

-“let me help”

-he takes the earrings out of your hands, nudging you to turn in his grip

-he brushes your hair back before focusing intently on putting the earring in

-he’s scared about hurting you but you’re too busy focusing on the butterflies in your stomach to even notice

-he fastens the earrings with ease and without a second thought he presses a kiss to your forehead before telling you to turn and look in the mirror and see if it’s okay

-you’re practically glowing and that alone make corpse smile

-from now on he puts your earrings in for you

Dream

-the minute you got your nails done you realized what a struggle opening cans was going to be

-you loved Redbull and soda and pretty much anything that came into a can so you were definitely struggling

-dream watches as you leverage the can tab with a knife and pop it open that way, an adoring smile on his lips

-he watches you do this for a while, finding the action absolutely adorable for whatever reason

-one day you head to the fridge and grab a can of Redbull and Dream takes it out of your hands instantly

-he pops it open without a word and hands it back, pressing a kiss to the side of your head as he walks away

-you stand in the cold air of the fridge for minutes afterward, struck at how such a perfect boy could notice something so minute about you

-he always opens cans for you now

Sam

-having a difficult time typing never even occurred to you when you got your nails done

-you figured you’d either find a way around it or use text to speech if it got really difficult

-and it did get really difficult

-you had a 10-page essay due and the idea of ripping your extremely expensive nails off had crossed your mind more than once

-when you’re on your third page and can’t type one word without a mistake you let out a muted scream before dropping your head onto the desk

-Sam who had been sitting in the room the whole time offers a concerned look

-he makes his way over to you, rubbing your back slowly

-“what’s wrong baby?”

-“these stupid nails keep messing me up,” you whine leaning your head into his chest

-he picks your hand up, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand before nudging you out of the seat

-“what are you writing about?” he asks as you plop down onto the floor

-“what?”

-“what are you writing about? I can type it,”

-you swore you were about to get down on one knee and propose to him

-“uhm it’s about the similarities and differences of an older text and a newer text and why it’s fundamental to use both”

-“alright. tell me what I need to write next”

-you spent the next few hours telling Sam your plans and thoughts about the paper while he typed, your heart slamming appreciatively in your chest

Wilbur

-you had done pretty well with your hair after getting your nails done

-brushing it out, pulling it up, even twirling it around your fingers caused no issue and all ease

-however, when you see a TikTok tutorial of a girl pulling her hair up with butterfly clips this is when the trouble starts

-you sat in front of your bedroom mirror, twisting your hair and attempting to clip it in place, and proceeding to drop the clip over and over and over

-the frustration is unreal, and at one point you almost start crying in annoyance

-Wilbur walks into the room clueless and stops in his tracks immediately

-he kneels on the ground behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders

-you lean back into his touch and let it calm you as you drop the clips from your hands

-”what’s wrong my love?” he whispers calmly while pressing kisses to your head

-”I can’t get my hair right,” an unintentional whine coming out of your lips

-Wilbur reaches down to where the clips lay on the ground and gather them up

-”what do you want me to do?”

-you’re practically crying for a whole other reason now

-”i’m just trying to twist my hair up and pin it back” you explain

-wilbur watches you pull the hair back before opening the clip and securing it into place

-he smoothes down the hair as if he’s done it a million times and presses kisses to your head

-he’s the first person you call now when you need help with your hair

Sapnap

-okay you’ve never been great at opening sauce packets before

-but now that you got your nails done it’s downright impossible

-the first time you tried you swore it took you 30 minutes to even get it a little bit open

-so when you and Sap go to Chick fil A and sit down to eat you’re already groaning in annoyance as you pull out the chick fil a sauce packet

-Sap watches with amused eyes and a slight smirk as you struggle even getting the plastic between your fingers

-he grabs it from your hands without a word, tearing it open before placing it back in front of you

-every single time you go to a fast food place now he does it subconsciously whether you have acrylics on or not

-your heart aches a little every time he does it, nothing but love for the sweet boy before you

Boomer

-alright so you’ve never been a huge gamer in life

-sure you played the occasional game when you were younger or when your older brother needed help beating a level but that was about it

-when you met Boomer you realized how little you knew about video games, specifically minecraft

-while you never played the game you listened to Boomer tell you all about it and explain

-however when he started playing Halo in his free time that’s when you became interested

-your dad used to play the game 24/7 when you were younger, beating it a multitude of times on the old PC in the computer room

-and when he saw your interest piqued, he knew he had to teach you how to play valorant

-similar shooting games, right?

-you sat on his lap, his hands on top of yours as you try to work around having the longest fingernails ever and learn a new game

-you swear instead of you actually playing Boomer was doing all of the work

-it made your heart happy anyway

-you joked with him that when the fingernails come off you’ll beat his ass in valorant

-”Whatever you say my love” he assures pressing a kiss to your shoulder

Punz

-okay but opening jars normally is hard

-how the fuck were you supposed to open them with long ass fingernails on??

-you did probably the most ridiculous tips and tricks from TikTok to try and loosen the top of the jar

-nothing worked

-punz watched you amused day in and day out whenever you tried to open any jars

-some days he even let the jar loosen before hiding it back again and watching as you cheer excitedly, opening it on the first try

-one day you’re having a particularly hard time opening a jar, going as far as cursing in frustration over the opening

-punz walks over to you, pulling the jar from your hand and popping it open with ease you watch admirably

-you lean up and press a kiss to his cheek and he flushes underneath your touch

-now every time you have a jar you can’t open you’re right by Punz’s side pouting and holding out the food

Quackity

-obviously, Alex has always opened doors for you

-he’s even gone as far as smacking your hand away when you try to open a door for yourself

-and when you get your nails done? Forget about it

-he barely lets you lift a finger, not wanting for you to ruin your brand new manicure

-he’s seen you pull off quite a few nails by missing the door handle and hitting it a bit too hard

-there’s no way he’s gonna make you lose more

-”i’m going to work!” you yell out to Alex as you walk out the door

-he rushes in behind you unexpectedly and out towards your car

-he already has the door opened and is offering a big grin

-you lean up and press a kiss to his lips, your heart surging at the idea that you had gotten the best boyfriend in the world

Karl Jacobs

-kinda like typing, you never thought you’d have an issue writing stuff down with your nails on

-however, this time around you got your nails a little longer than usual and it was a struggle

-as you’re scribbling down a grocery list you mess up practically every other word in sloppy writing

-Karl tilts his head when he tries reading the list and smiles

-”baby let me write the list,” he whines the next time you go shopping

-you tell him everything you need and Karl writes it down in perfect hand writing, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he gets up

-you’ll never not be shocked when he does something so simple but precious

[quietmyfearswith]

obssessed ; preferences

warnings — stalking, nonconsensual location/location tracking, obsessive behaviors, manipulation, knife, mentions of killing someone (no actual murder)

characters — dark!andy barber, dark!steve rogers, dark!ransom drysdale, dark!bucky barnes, dark!clark kent, dark!syverson, dark!august walker

a/n — THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH DARK THEMES,, dni if youre not 18+,, just a thought that played around in my mind so yeah. lmk what you think!

their love language | with their little | when you’re insecure | slipping into little space | fussy | happy hoelidays | cartoons

masterlist

To celebrate the case they won they held a little party at the office; though Andy wasn’t in a celebratory mood. With his hand clasped together against his lips, his eyes were watching closely his phone screen as he was awaiting a text from his beloved girlfriend who promised to be here. “Hey Andy, we’re popping the champagne already; are you joining us?” Tearing his attention away from the device, he smiled a bit as he told them, “I will once Y/N comes over.”  Tess, the assistant who invited him, chuckled a bit before leaving him alone in his office, “Staring at the phone won’t make her come over any quicker you know?” It was something they never really confronted Andy about — almost everyone at the office noticed how he had a firm grip around the girl, but no one dared to question or comment about it because they know how the skilled lawyer would come after them once they do — but silently they understood that if you spoke, let alone looked at her, badly it wouldn’t end well for everyone.

As the door shut once Tess walked away, his intense gaze returned once again to the mobile phone as he awaits a response from his girl. “Baby! I’m here now,” Snapping his head to the source of the sound, he immediately stood up and hugged Y/N as he let out a relieved sigh. “Where were you? And most importantly why didn’t you answer my text or return my calls hm?” Rolling her eyes with how her boyfriend was grilling her as if she was one of the witnesses he had on his case she apologized, “I’m sorry, baby. I got held up at the salon because my mani took longer than expected,” Her manicured nails then raised her phone to show how even as she pressed the button it wouldn’t turn on, “And my phone ran out of battery.” Wrapping an arm around her, he removed her bag and left it by the coat hanger and guided them to where the party was. “I’m gonna buy you a portable charger, baby; that way you won’t ever run out.” Innocently, she smiled and thanked him with a kiss on the lips before saying hello to his colleagues whom she got along well. That way the tracker I put on your phone will always be turned on, he deviously thought to himself as he sipped some of his champagne.

“Another long day huh?” August asked as he peeked his head around Y/N’s cubicle. It was quite odd to say the least — a field agent of his caliber not having his own office instead opting for a cubicle beside one of CIA’s lanky desk jockey? It was one of the questions she asked the infamous Hammer as he settled on the office cubicle beside hers, “Why settle for a tiny office station?” She asked to which he chuckled at as he explained, “Half the year I’m somewhere around the world; so what’s the point of having a big office if I don’t enjoy it all year round?” It was a good, solid point — one she so easily believed without a second thought — but unfortunately it was all a lie. Ever since Walker saw her once at a meeting Sloane held, he was hooked. Initially it was just her beauty and energy, but as he got to know her more he fell for who and what she was. “Yeah, I might need to stay a bit longer than usual,” She replied as she lifted the files she held, pinning the blame on the current target that needed to be researched on. “How ‘bout some coffee then?” Ears ringing with joy at his offer, she looked at him with an appreciative look as she nodded. Chuckling at her reaction, he stood up and trodden over the pantry. Installing surveillance devices on her work computer and cameras around her desk paid off since it allowed him to know everything there is to discover about her — her favorite artists, pet peeves, how she liked her coffee, home address, mobile phone number, even her social security number!

“How’d you know how I like my coffee?” She asked after taking a sip of the hot beverage; with a smile he shrugs as he pretends to get back to the work on his computer, “Well it was just a wild guess.” In her mind however, she did find her tastes to be quite basic and didn’t doubt August which was a relief to the field agent. “I think I’ll be going home now,” She announced as she shut off her computer and began to clean up her desk. “Need a ride home?” He knew she did, since he overheard her talking to a mechanic earlier that day about a defect her car suddenly had, “Yeah I do actually, but I wouldn't want to hassle you.” Quickly putting on his brown coat, he was standing up as he fished his keys out, “Nonsense! I don’t mind helping a colleague out.” Conceding, she took up his generous offer with a smile. As they were making an easy-going conversation, Y/N gave her address; but what she didn’t know is that not only did August know by heart where she lived, but he had also paid her house a visit multiple times in the past.

With an arm draped around her shoulder, Bucky and Y/N walked around the farmer’s market; the latter whined endlessly to her boyfriend how she wanted to buy some products. And though the thought of going out in the crowds wasn’t at all appealing to him, the need to make her smile made him go anyway. Leading him up to the different stalls, the former Winter Soldier couldn’t help but chuckle at how she would coo and be all excited for the different groceries, clothes, and figurines. “Slow down, doll. The market’s not going anywhere,” Bucky told her as he tailed behind her as he carried over 10 different bags filled with her purchases. It wouldn’t normally be a problem for him to look after her, but as the path became filled with people and him being preoccupied with the bags he held made him unable to keep a grip on her. With worried, drifting eyes, he was searching for his girlfriend who seemed to have blended right up with the bustling crowds, “Y/N? Doll? Where are you?” 

Setting the bags down on a vacant table, he then spotted her standing by a stall that sold her favorite food. His relieved smile was soon being replaced with a scowl as she was talking and laughing with another man. Whipping out the knife he kept on the pocket of his jeans, he was ready to torture the man. But as Y/N turned to him with a wide smile, it had him hiding the knife out of her sight, “Bucky! Look it’s Sam, my cousin!” Upon her introducing who the man was, the knife that was hidden was being kept back into its original hiding spot before he shook hands with the man, “Oh! Nice meeting you same, I’m Y/N’s boyfriend.” As they shook hands Sam had given them both a look as he sassed, “I know who you are! This one,” He referred to Y/N by pinching her side as she smacked his hand and giggled, “Won’t stop gushing about you every time we talk.” Seeing how she was clinging to his metal arm as she nuzzled her cheek to his side was all the confirmation Bucky needed; Sam then excused himself, “Well you got to swing by one of our family gatherings, yeah Bucky?” Nodding, they all exchanged farewells before the couple headed to the table where their bags still were — thankfully not stolen. “You shouldn’t have run off like that, doll. Got me real worried for a second,” He gently scolded her with a stern look. Pouting, she defended herself, “I’m sorry, Bucky! I just saw these cute little mason jars, but they were too expensive so I walked away. Then I smelt something delicious so I followed it and it turned out it was my favorite food; but Sam was there so I chatted with him instead.” Ending her enthusiastic breakdown of events with a sweet peck on the lips, he told her, “Doll you know that I would have bought you anything your sweet heart wanted. Just don’t go anywhere without me okay?”

The soft ping on his phone made Jensen pause his movements as he was selecting  a movie that you both would watch; eyebrow raising when he noticed that a certain “Steve” was texting you. Opening the text through the software he installed on both your phones allowed him to see every activity you do on your phone — but it wasn’t the only feature it had for it also allowed him to change the texts, emails, and other settings on her phone. A frown graced his handsome features as he read the text, “ Hey Y/N I can squeeze you in on Thursday, at 3pm. Are you free by then?” Displeased, he then sent a text to the guy saying how his assistance wouldn’t be needed any more. And he edited the text Steve sent her to make it seem that it was Steve that texted how he could no longer accommodate her. “Got some chips and chocolates!”

Her excited voice brought his attention from his phone screen to her excited face as she plopped herself beside him. “Thanks, babe,” Kissing her forehead, he sneakily looked over to where she was unlocking her phone and reading the text; noticing how she pouted he inquired, “What's wrong, babe?” Snuggling up to his side after sending a reply, she explained, “Steve said he can’t meet up with me anymore.” As he was rubbing her back, he faked the symphony, “Aw that’s too bad; why did you even need to meet up with Steve anyway?” She did not pick up on the faint hints of darkness on his tone, “He was my dentist! He was going to determine whether I need to have surgery for my tooth, remember?” At the revelation of who Steve really was, the  communications and technology expert felt slightly guilty but he was quick to reassure her, “Don’t worry baby I know a dentist who can help you.” Feeling her hum appreciatively against him, she planted a kiss on his cheek as they both focused on the movie; and as her eyes were trained on the screen, he whispered lowly, “You're only gonna be around people I trust, babe.”

There was a reason Sy had chosen a house that was nearly thirty minutes away from downtown — it was so their friends and families would feel lazy or discouraged to visit them due to the distance and time it took to get there. “Where on earth do you need to be today, petal?” Sy’s morning voice huskily rasped out in her ear; they both had just woken up and as Y/N was moving to stand up from the bed, she was being trapped in his muscular arms for a hug. Giggling at how he was being, she rolled around so they would be facing each other, “‘M going out with my friends today — Sophia and Rose have been bugging me about how we don’t hang out as often anymore.” At the mention of her going out and leaving him, Sy’s mood deflated and his eyes went wide; this wasn’t how he pictured this day going. “But petal, you’re gonna leave me all alone in this big house? ‘M gonna miss you so much,” The former army captain whined as she got out of his grasp and heading to wash up in their ensuite bathroom — not before bopping his nose as she reminded him, “Well you chose this house, bear. Plus, it’s only just for a while.”

Sitting up on their bed the man could only cross his arms and grumble, which was interrupted with her phone ringing. After seeing that it was her friend, Sophia, who was calling he then answered it for her, “Hey Y/N! Can’t wait to see you; we’ll pick you up in 20 minutes okay?” Taking the opportunity, Sy then decided to fabricate a lie, “Oh hey Sophia, it’s Sy,” He paused before saying the next parts in a hushed tone, “Y/N won’t be able to make it since she hurt her foot two days ago when going down the stairs. I know she was so looking forward to seeing you. Will do, bye.” With a smirk, the man set her phone back down on the nightstand, just in time since Y/N exited the bathroom, “Who was that, bear?” Making his way over to her, he hugged her as he kissed her forehead, “Sophia, calling to say she’s gonna have to cancel because she’s sick. And Rose was called in to work.” It was clear on her face that she was disappointed because she was looking forward to catching up with her friends, but her boyfriend tried to mirror her expression when in reality he was overjoyed with getting her all to himself. “Guess that leaves just the two of us, petal. Don’t worry, we’re gonna have fun today.” 

“Fucking hell,” Ransom cursed as he was speeding to go to where your tracker said you were. He had gifted you a necklace six months into the relationship, and it was costly not just because of the intricate design it has but also because he had put a tracker on it to keep tabs of your whereabouts — not that you knew about it. You both had a fight the night before, and it didn’t end well since it led to the two of you sleeping in separate rooms and Ransom drinking away his misery. So imagine his surprise when he woke up and found how you weren’t in the house and he noticed as well how a duffel bag that was in your shared walk-in closet was gone; the writer thought of the worst possibilities. And his anger went through the roof when he saw how you were at his grandfather’s house; it was one thing that you guys fought, but to involve his family in this? That was bound to be a fucking mess. As he parked the car by the driveway, he stepped out in rushed steps that were slowed down by the two dogs barking and crowding him, “Shoo, get away, mutts!” He scared them away and entered the house, “Alright where is she?” His yell echoed through the walls as Marta who was walking from the kitchen and into the foyer was startled, “Hugh, what brings you here?” 

“Where’s Y/N?” Knowing Y/N’s secret, the nurse swallowed nervously as she reluctantly told the truth, “She’s with Harlan at the gathering area.” On his way there he noticed how there were some party decorations — some colorful streamers and balloons — on the walls before he saw his girlfriend who was looking through something on her iPad, “What the hell are you doing here?” His voice caused her to gasp out loud as she looked like a deer caught off guard by headlights; standing up she walked towards him, her hands gripping onto his forearms, “We fight and you end up here to my grandfather to what? Complain and seek refuge?” Though his words stung she chose not to feed onto his anger, “Can you promise to listen out to me first?” Seeing how she was calm and not as mad as the night before, he gulped down and nodded. “When you accused me of cheating on you, it hurt because I knew that that wasn’t the truth,” She paused briefly to monitor his reactions, and she knew that he would then ask what was up with her behavior so she addressed it before being prompted to, “And the reason why I seem to be distant or busy these past few days is because I was planning on throwing a surprise party for you — for the success of your book.” At her explanation he could feel his entire body relax at the relief of him not having to kill anyone; also it made sense to him why his grandfather’s house had some ornaments hanging. Pulling her close to him, he hugged her tight as he kissed the top of her head, “Princess, I was so close to killing someone, you have no idea.” Swatting his back, she laughed at him, “I think you owe me an apology, mister. Not only did you ruin the surprise but you also accused me of cheating on you.” Smirking at her he replied, “I’ll make it up to you for the rest of our lives, princess, don’t you worry about it.” And he meant every single word of that promise; for he knew he wanted no one else but her.

The mission went well since the new agents did their jobs well — even exceeding Steve’s expectations of how they would handle the pressure and what decisions they would make in order for the mission to be a success. As the quinjet landed and they were given the clearance to exit the aircraft, the super soldier frowned when he took note how his girlfriend wasn’t anywhere near the landing pad. She always welcomes me back, he thought. The weight of his duffle bag on his arm didn’t matter to him as the feeling of worry and anxiety about his girl was way heavier. Immediately, he headed to their shared living quarters where he hoped she would be, “Kitten? I’m home,” His voice bounced off the walls as he dropped his bag on the floor and looked through every nook of the room. Now his anger and confusion was through the roof and he then decided to consult, “Friday, where’s Y/N?”

“She’s at the common area with Sam and Pietro, Captain,” As soon as AI mentioned where she was he found himself striding briskly towards her location. If she was with Bucky, it wouldn’t have alarmed him as much. But the Captain had a hunch that Sam secretly liked his girl and had plans of stealing him away from him; while Pietro was a natural flirt and joker. Even just by standing at the doorway he heard his beloved’s giggles as Sam recalled an exaggerated story. “There you are, kitten,” He let out, relieved upon seeing his girl alive in one piece. Turning her head, she smiled widely upon seeing her boyfriend and abandoned her conversation with the two Avengers to run to Steve with open arms. “Steve! I missed you so much,” She squealed as the super soldier caught her effortlessly and wrapped his thick arms tightly around her figure. “What are you doing with these troublemakers, kitten?” He wondered out loud, completely ignoring two offended looks from the said men. “I was bored of waiting for you in our room so I went here,” She was cut off from her explanations when Sam added, “That, and we missed hanging out with Y/N!” Even though Y/N giggled, Steve was trying his best to control his rage; but Pietro wanted to push him further to his limits by saying, “You hog her all the damn time we forget how great her company is!” the only girl in the room squealed as she was being carried off by Steve, “Well I don’t want you around her that’s why I hog my girl around.” Everyone around the super soldier still thought that he was joking and decided to laugh it off; Sam’s voice called out to them once more to tell a joke before they both had fully exited the room, “Yeah? Well why don’t you just lock her up in a secluded house then?” That’s exactly my plan, Sam, Steve smirked to himself quietly.

Clark needed an escape that night; for someone who has inhumane powers the stress of his job at the Daily Planet can definitely take a toll on one person — so he decided to go flying around at night, just to take his mind off things. As he was flying, he sensed trouble and decided to check out what was happening. It was a woman who was being bothered by her ex who was clearly under the influence, “Goddamn it, Alex! I told you I don’t want to talk to you!” Y/N was trying her best to push him away, but even in his drunken state he had a  tight grip on her forearms. “Just wanna talk to you, baby,” He sing-songed as he tried to push his body closer to hers. “I think she made it clear that she doesn’t want to,” A booming voice spoke up, causing Y/N to gasp out loud when she saw Superman himself; Alex however grunted at the searing pain on his shoulder caused by the mysterious man, the pain weakening his hold on the girl to the point where he tore his hands away from Y/N to push away the weight on his shoulder. In his drunken state, he failed to piece together how it was the infamous hero in front of him — instead all he saw was a tall, muscular man and decided he didn’t want to have his face beaten up so he just walked away with his arms up in surrender. “Are you alright, miss?” Clark gently asked the woman who felt relieved she was no longer being bothered by her ass of an ex. “I am, thank you.” She nodded and before she could ask how’d she find him he offered, “Would you need help getting home? Just to make sure he won’t follow you again.” He was quick to clarify, in hopes she won’t find him creepy. “I know you have good intentions, but it’s fine. I don’t think he has the balls, let alone the energy, to bother me. At least for tonight.” With that she waved at the hero goodnight before getting into her car and driving into her apartment — but she didn’t know how up in the sky above, a certain pair of blue eyes followed her journey home.

“Hi! You must be the one who moved next door?” Y/N politely greeted the man as she was leaned by her front door. Clark smiled as he adjusted his glasses — suddenly feeling nervous upon seeing her beautiful face once more, “That is me! Though the one who moved next door is quite a mouthful; you can just call me Clark.” As she laughed at his lame joke she told her name, “And feel free to knock if you need anything, okay?” Taking his nod of agreement as a cue that their conversation ended, she entered her apartment. The son of Jor-El II went inside his own apartment that was directly next to hers  — he did so because days and nights of following her didn’t satiate his hunger for her, so he decided that perhaps this would be a clean way of easing her into a relationship — and busied himself with organizing his belongings in his apartment. Hearing Y/N’s increased heart rate and her voice raised, he opened his door to check out what was going on; and the sight of her ex bothering her once again. “Come on, Y/N! You need to take me back!” Displeased with how the imbecile failed to grasp that Alex should not reach out to his girl anymore. Letting his rage get the best of him, he walked over and pushed Alex off hard enough he landed on his bum, “When a woman says she doesn’t want to see or talk to you, then you better comply with her request.” Gulping down, he recognized the strength as the same one who grabbed onto his shoulder — and now as he was sober Alex decided to respect her wishes and hastily stood up to leave the apartment building. “Are you alright?” Seeing how Clark stood up for her, it made her reminisce about how she was reduced two weeks ago by Superman, “I’m fine, Clark,” She nodded as she grounded herself back to reality and stared into his concerned, blue eyes, “Thank you, by the way.” As he smiled at her she offered him for some snacks in her flat, which he gracefully accepted. “You know, you’re the second person who helped me get rid of Alex,” She mentioned as she handed him a snack; feigning innocence he tilted his head up as he inquired, “Oh? Who’s the other one?” Taking a small bite of the snack, she wiped her mouth free from the crumbs before  replying, “You probably won’t believe it, but it was Superman,” She laughed along with her new neighbor who didn’t find it unbelievable and instead played along as he spoke, “Who’s to say I’m not your personal superhero, beautiful?”

[crimsonbubble]

[4:09 PM]

(warnings: m!reader, handjobs, threesome, voyeurism, cum eating, cum play, finger sucking, spit play, praise, nipple play, light marking and biting, overstimulation, brief edging, pet play, anal fingering, oral, face fucking, creampie)

*more and taglist after the cut*

note: inspiration taken from this and pls don't bash me for my poor attempt at writing a male reader, I'm trying my best 😃 also how tf did I manage to write this much [1.8k words]

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You tried to muffle your moans as Yunho stroked your cock with quick movements. His lips grazed your neck, laughing as you writhe under him in your bent over position. You lean your weight on the dresser you're bent over, your legs going weak as Yunho thumbs your slit. "Come on then, pretty, cum for me." Yunho lets out a small chuckle as you rut into his hand, his palm rubbing over your tip. "My good little pup, cum all over my hand."

Your hips stutter as you desperately grind into his hand. Yunho's hand slowed down a bit, making you whine in frustration. You turn your head, locking eyes with San, who is stood in shock by the door. You had completely forgotten that San would be coming home soon, a feeling of shame and embarrassment flooding over you. You go to pull Yunho's hand off your throbbing cock, but Yunho tightened his hand around you, stroking you faster than you got embarrassed.

You let out a lewd whimper, your face burning ad Yunho continues to jerk you off. You feel a cold hand trial under your shirt, bunching it up to feel over your back. You let out a moan as you finally realize that's it's San's hand. You shiver as he ghosts his fingertips over your spine, making goosebumps arise of your skin. "Hmm, you weren't lying when you said they were your pretty pup." San mused as he dragged his nails down your back lightly.

You let out a mewl as San talked to Yunho like he wasn't stroking your dick. Yunho rubbed his palm against your tip, making you lose all shame. You let out a choked moan, your knees buckling as you release. Your cum paints your chest, stomach and Yunho's hand. Your orgasm surprised both San and Yunho, making them both groan as you rock your hips into Yunho's hand. "Such a good boy, did so well." Yunho pulls his hand away from your twitching cock, turning you around to pin you against the dresser again.

Your cheeks heat up as both men scan up and down your quivering body. Yunho's cum coated hand is held up, making a soft whine leave you lips, looking away from the mess you created. Yunho lifted your head, turning your head to the right, making you watch as San took hold of Yunho's wrist, lapping at the cum that stained his fingers and palm. Your felt your cock twitch again, watching San take Yunho's long fingers into his mouth. Yunho chuckled, wrapping an arm around you, pulling you into his chest.

You rested you cheek on his chest, watching as San covered Yunho's fingers in his spit. Your right hand trailed down Yunho's stomach, tugging at his pants, before diving under his boxers. Yunho jerked at the sudden warmth around his cock, feeling his body stiffen against yours. You giggled softly, using his pre-cum as lube to stroke him. San pulled off of Yunho's fingers with a pop, leaning up to mouth at his neck. Yunho groaned when your fingers circled his head, his hips jerking as you watch as San places sloppy kisses on Yunho's neck. "Fuck it, on the bed." You and San listened wordlessly, pure need overtaking you as you press your lips to San's.

San let out a sharp gasp, pushing forward against you. Yunho sat back against the headboard, tugging his pants down to his thighs. He wrapped his lubed fingers around himself, pumping slowly as you and San exchanged spit. San pushed you down onto the bed, licking into your mouth. You whimpered into his mouth as his hand wrapped around your cock. Your back arched, your legs closing in on either side of San. San moaned into your mouth as you palmed him through his jeans, his hands caressing your hips and sides.

San kissed down your neck, biting into your skin as you tilt your head to give him more space. San tightens his hand around your dick, stroking you hard and fast. He leans back, watching as you shake, trying to get away from the overwhelming pleasure. Pathetic cries leave your mouth, your hands clutch onto the sheets for dear life. You can't keep still as San pinches and rolls your nipple, making you let out a whorish moan of his name. San chuckled darkly, his tongue peeking out of his mouth as he focus on jerking you off.

"S-sannie, 'm close." San 'awwed' at your call, biting his lip as he swiped his fingers through the mess on your stomach from before. He presses his messy fingers against your lips, groaning when you open your mouth and lap at the cum on his fingers without a seconds hesitation. "You've trained them well, Yun." San snickered as he looked over at Yunho's disheveled appearance. Yunho looked over at you shaking figure, stroking himself faster at how fucked out you look.

Your cheeks flushed, your eyes hooded and teary, hips jolting as San slides his thumb over your tip, thighs trembling as San grips the base of your cock tightly, holding back your orgasm as you squirm under him; Yunho could cum at the mere sight of you, your lips stretched around San's fingers, and your cock twitching against San's palm. "San, San, gonna cum-" Your back arched painfully, ropes of cum landing on your already cum stained torso.

San watched with sharp eyes at how you buck into his hand, your toes curling as you fuck his hand. Yunho pulled his hand off of his cock, ridding himself of his clothes. San strokes you slowly, helping you ride out your second orgasm. San pulls his hand away, locking eyes with you as he licks the cum off of his hand. You whimper at the lewd sight, your thighs clenching together as San, moans around his fingers. San licks his fingers clean, pulling off of them with a slick pop.

"Arms up, puppy." Yunho pulls your shirt over your head, while San occupies himself but fully ridding you of your pants and underwear. You lay naked under San and Yunho, looking at them with glassy eyes. "Lay by the headboard, baby." San cooed, pushing the hair out of your face. On shaky limbs, you move to lay your head on the pillows by the headboard, watching as San stood up to rid of his clothes. San came back on the bed, hovering over you as Yunho traced a finger over your puckered rim. San marked over your neck, while Yunho slowly pushed his finger past your ring of muscles.

You let out a small whine, grabbing onto San's hair and Yunho's free hand. Yunho brought your hand up to his lips, leaving a soft kiss on the back of it. Yunho carefully pumped his finger into you, curling it to hit your prostate. "Such a good boy, taking my fingers so well." Yunho wiped away your stray tears, gently adding a second finger. He scissored your tight hole open gently, shushing you as San pressed his lips to yours to distract from the light discomfort.

Yunho felt you clench around his fingers, curling them to brush against your prostate. You let out a moan, tugging at Sam's hair. Yunho quickened his pace, fucking you deeply with his fingers. He let out a deep breath, watching as you take his fingers whole. "Pretty little pup, having fun with kitty?" You and San both whined, making Yunho giggle as he fingered you open. San tangled his tongue with yours, sloppy slurping sounds filling your ears. Yunho pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine into San's mouth.

The both of you pull away, panting as you pull San back in to lap over his tongue. San pulled away for air, his fucked out expression mirroring your own. "Think you can take my cock down your pretty throat?" San panted as you nodded eagerly, waiting for San to push his cock past your lips. San straddled your chest, stroking his cock languidly, before shifting forward to tap his tip against your bit swollen lips. You part your lips quickly, letting San sink his cock into your mouth. You let out a low hum, feeling San twitch in your mouth. You gag slightly when San hits the back of your throat, your eyes peering up at him through wet eyelashes.

Yunho positioned himself between your thighs, holding them open as he pushes inside you. You moan around San's cock, rolling your hips against Yunho's when he bottoms out. Your hands slide up San's thighs, nails digging into his skin as he holds your head in place, using your mouth to get off. Yunho wasted no time in picking up his pace, making you whine against San. San cursed loudly, fucking your mouth with little to no remorse; not that you minded of course. Yunho groaned as he pinned your hips down, pounding into you.

You let out a whimper, dipping your tongue into San's slit. Yunho moaned shakily as he bucked his hips into you. Your hole tightened around him, his hips angling up to brush against your prostate. You cock throbbed painfully, slapping against your stomach as Yunho's nails dug into your hips. San let out a soft whimper, coming undone as you hollow your cheeks. You held the bittersweet liquid in your mouth as San used your mouth to ride out his high, letting you lap up every drop of his cum.

San whimpered as he pulled out of your mouth, moving off your chest to sit beside you. San leans over you to press his lips to yours again. You moan into his mouth as your hands grabbed at the sheets. Yunho sat back on his knees, pulling you down to lay on his thighs as he fucked into you deeper. You nearly screamed as Yunho started hammering into you. San happily swallowed your loud whimpers, his tongue tracing over yours. San trials a hand down your hip, tracing a finger around the base of your cock. Your back arches, your brows furrowing as Yunho hits your prostate with each deep thrust.

San sucks on your tongue, clearly not minding the fact that his cum is still on your tongue. He helps your face firmly, keeping his lips on yours as he pants into your mouth. Yunho moans loudly, his cock pulsing as he feels euphoria wash over him. You whine at the feeling of Yunho's cum painting your walls, another mewl leaving your lips as San wraps his hand around your neglected cock. He stroked you hard and fast, making you squirm under him as you cum. Yunho slowly pulled out of you, watching with glazed eyes at how his cum looks, smeared all over your fluttering hole.

"Look at my pretty pup, leaking with my cum. I'm guessing my pretty kitty had fun too."

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@a-soft-hornytiny @cometoceantrenches @ddeonghwva @hanatiny @hyetiny @latte-fairytaekwoon @multidreams-and-desires @mingisstar1117 @serialee @seongsangsgf @strawberry-joong @tinkerbellwoo @vocalyunho @woowommy @yunhoiseyecandy @yunhofingers @mingi-ivity

[creativeashproductions]

When Fate Intervenes // Luke Patterson

IN WHICH: Fate intervenes with a trio of musicians on the night that was supposed to be legendary. Fate puts the reader with a special ability that may or may not be able to save them. Fate puts a clairvoyant, an accidentally upsized pizza and thirteen year old oddly obsessed with a rock band.

Warnings: Swearing, food poison, death, and fluff

Words: 2.8k

A/N: Time to get rid of some fic ideas from my TOO LONG of a list. It’s Julie fault, she keeps encouraging each fic idea I tell her.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

The Orpheum, 1995

The line up comprised of countless girls wearing homemade band shirts for the new band performing. Your little sister, at thirteen years old, had pleaded for weeks if not three months to go watch it. It was odd since she was more in the pop scene than the rock music. Your parents would never let her go to the rock show at night, so it was you or no show. It took a promise of doing your chores for an entire month and her dessert for two months. That was why you stood beside Harper among the fangirls while you clicked through the camera you’d saved up for years.

“I’m so excited.” Harper buzzed dancing on your feet as the time on her watch dwindled down more and more.

Your eyes flitted from the screen to the ball of energy you called your little sister, “I can tell. Which one do you have a crush on?”

“Reggie. He’s the bassist and so fucking-sorry freaking cool.” Harper gushed, “A good portion of the fans are obsessed with the lead singer Luke. Bobby is the rhythm guitarist, and he’s a ladies man, but he’s sweet about it.”

“And you’d know that how?” You questioned letting go of the camera around your neck. Your e/c eyes meeting her matching pair of irises; well yours were a bit more vibrant.

“I just know.” Harper retorted before beaming as she roughly poked the pin she’d made herself, “This represents all of them. Red for Reggie’s plaid shirt he always has, orange for Bobby’s love of oranges, yellow for Luke’s energy and pink for Alex because he loves the colour!”

The pin had their band design with Sunset Curve on it with the words outlined with a sunset made up of red, orange, yellow and pink just as Harper had pointed out. By far, it was her best work, but that was expected from an art student at Los Feliz High School. An art school for artists and performers. You attended for photography and creative writing just as Harper attended for art.

“That might be your best work Harps.” You complimented your little sister who shivered in the cool night breeze. You didn’t even think about tugging off your warm jacket to place on her shoulders.

You’d rather be cold than your little sister no matter how much you fought with each other, the Y/L/N siblings had each other’s backs no matter what.

“Thanks.” Harper murmured, leaning closer, “So do I meet Reggie?”

Your eyes widened slightly at her subtle goading to a part of your life was cinematic. It was a piece of you that very few people knew about, only your parents and Harper. Like most of the women in your paternal lineage, you carried the ability to foresee events in the future. A clairvoyant.

“Harper!” You scolded the young teenager who blatantly was just over-excited to see the band she’d been talking about constantly.

Harper’s cheeks turned a cherry blossom pink under the crappy lighting from the marquee sign. Even in the light, you noticed the changes in her face as she matured into a young woman, her cheeks while still full didn’t have that baby cheek look now. You saw a stubborn zit that you could see under the makeup that didn’t entirely match her skin tone. It caused an ache in your heart to know that soon she’d have the experience of heartbreak.

“Sorry!”

“You told me these guys are my age. Need I remind you that you are thirteen? If anyone older than thirteen makes an advance I’ll put my softball skills to the test.” You sternly informed the shorter girl with the pout that screamed rebellion, “Just be a kid Harps.”

“Like you said Y/N, I’m thirteen. I’m not a kid anymore.” Harper dropped the attitude to adopt a more mature soft tone. You could see the tinge of sadness in her eyes at losing the part of life where it was easy.

“I know. I can wish you’ll stay that annoying little kindergartener that stole my clothing.” You chuckled, “You’ll always be the Stephanie to my DJ.”

The two Y/L/N siblings momentarily glanced around before hugging as quickly as possible, they still had reputations to uphold. Had you been actually paying attention, you and Harper would have noticed the commotion from the people behind you.

As you and Harper had the sweet moment, the very band performing had raced out the alley into the street. What brought you back to the surroundings was the pizza boy delivering the pizza box to you. 

“Wait, we ordered a small!” You exclaimed finding the boy holding an extra-large pizza. You only received a shrug in response with the right change given back. 

Two things happened with this food mistake, you didn’t have to pay more than what you actually ordered, and you still got the larger pizza. However, the Orpheum didn’t allow outside food, meaning you’d have to force-feed yourself all the pizza or trash more than half. 

“We could shar-” Harper was cut off as a blinding white light became your focal point. Harper knew what was happening by the specific groan coming from your lips.

A nauseating scent of cheap meat, gas and chemicals flooded your sense of smell in the dingy alleyway. It was nighttime with a few people in the general vicinity with a dilapidated table and mismatched chairs on the walls’ edge. A poorly made sign with Sam & Ella’s and going by the vendor selling the hot dogs the name fit. Sam & Ella sounded like salmonella.

From a distance, you couldn’t quite hear the conversation between three male teens, but you had a bad feeling. They all migrated to a ratty couch that had been better days, a rat wouldn’t even crawl on it you swore.

The first boy had slicked back hair with rosy cheeks you dubbed innocent and cute that juxtapositioned his rocker attire. He had polished black leather shoes, pleather if his choice of food was an indication, a leather jacket and a red plaid shirt around his waist. His attention focused on the two guys beside him. In the middle, the boy had the blue hood of his sweater pulled over his messy brown hair as if hiding. Nothing stood out about him, and it seemed like that was intentional. On the other side, the last one was the tallest with his blonde hair hidden by the backwards black hat. A distressed dark grey jean jacket open to proudly display his pink hoodie. Each one wearing black pants and adorning rings.

“This is awesome, you guys. We’re playing the Orpheum!” The middle boy joyfully spoke head in the clouds instead of the questionable surroundings. He arguably had the loveliest smile you had ever seen, and his friends had nice smiles at that as well.

Yet even if this hadn’t taken place, however, it still felt like you were intruding on something incredibly private, “Why am I being shown this?”

Your question went unsurprisingly unanswered.

“I can’t even count how many bands have played here! And then ended up being huge!” He happily sunk into the back of the couch, thinking of all the bands he had CDs to in his room, “We’re gonna be legends!”

“Oh.” You breathed as you caught a whiff from the boys that quickly gave you the understanding of why you saw this. You could only smell what you had dubbed as death, the scent unchanging from the first time you’d encountered it.

The death stench accompanied a clairvoyant vision if the object of your vision was sick or about to die. The first time you encountered, it was a vision of two cars colliding, the sound of shattering glass and crunching metal, the scent of burning flesh overpowering the milder stench. The next morning school was cancelled after a teacher died in a car accident on the way to work.

“Eat up, boys. ’Cause after tonight, everything changes.” The only vocal one continued with his two friends silently listening. The trio toasted their food together.

“No!” You exclaimed as each boy took a bite. You held your breath, hoping that the inevitable in the vision wouldn’t occur.

Unfortunately, it was right away the warning appeared. The blonde one the most affected, “That’s a new flavour.”

“Chill, man. Street dogs haven’t killed us yet.” The leather jacket guy proudly spoke, the least one concerned. 

Even the guy in the middle was concerned but ultimately continued eating.

“Stop it!” You shouted, but it was no use. As with every vision, you had the potential to stop it from coming true, but while in the vision, you couldn’t interact with the people or surrounding. No matter how much you wanted to slam the food out of their hands.

But one thing sends shivers down your spine. The one in the middle made direct eye contact with you. Something that had never happened before nor to any previous clairvoyants. He kept eye contact as he slowly grew sicker and sicker.

The three boys had no chance as the ambulance rushed to the alleyway to save them. The paramedics weren’t as quick as the vendors who’d already packed and fled to protect their own hides.

You watched as the paramedics did everything in their power to save the young teenagers with everything possible. Just like Luke sang in their last song, the boys felt the darker version of an electric hammer to the heart. The clocks freezing in place as they each took their last breathe in the oddest of deaths. You saw the blonde guy die painfully first before followed by the formerly hooded one, the terrified cries of the last one haunting your phantom ears.

How did three healthy teenagers die on the same night of the exact nature within minutes of each other without one surviving? Maybe it had something to do with the hot dogs chilling in the liquid that was a cesspool of bacteria compounded with tained condiments from battery acid.

You roughly came out of the vision shaking and pale-faced frantically scanning the surroundings. Harper had a grip on the extra large pizza box while the other tightly held yours to ground you in the present.

“Are you okay?” Harper softly questioned with the panic hidden inside her body. Harper knew that this vision had been one of the bad ones. The haunted look in your eyes hinting towards death in the near future.

“We need to go.” You frantically replied, grabbing the pizza that would hopefully have a hand in saving three hopeful teens.

Your gym teacher would be proud of the distance diminished and speed you kept towards the area that would further shatter you. Foreseeing death and sometimes unable to stop it always had a nasty impact on you. 

“Where are we going?” Harper yelled, “We’ll miss the doors opening!”

“We’ll miss them if we don’t hurry up!” You shouted back at the disgruntled little sister but at the moment that didn’t matter. 

What mattered was three hungry teenagers about to gorge themselves on death dogs if you didn’t make it in time. It appeared for the first time you’d actually manage to stop the deaths, unlike the previous three times. 

“-tonight. Everything changes.” The chill-inducing rasp helped navigate you to the disgusting couch. Your cold hand slammed the hotdog from the blonde’s hand, the shocked reaction halting the other two.

“Don’t...eat...it.” You heaved bending over at the waist to catch your breath. Wheezing sounded from your little sister as the running and seeing her favourite band up close settled.

“Excuse me! I paid for that hotdog!”

“You’d be buying yourself death literally. Your dreams of playing the Orpheum would be extinct.” You sighed, chugging the water from the pocket of Harper’s backpack for a few seconds before the owner took it back.

“Okay, look I don’t know how you found us but-”

“You don’t have to believe me ’cause I sure as hell wouldn’t have but don’t jeopardize your dreams. Look my little sister wanted to see your show so I brought her and we ordered a pizza. They fucked up the order by giving us an extra-large pizza. We’ll barely eat a quarter of it, and the venue is strict on the rules.” You rambled using tour hands to elaborate the story before Harper roughly elbowed your ribs, “Ow!”

“Oops.” Harper faked a sugar-sweet smile for your benefit as the interaction with the three musicians slowly dove into embarrassment.

“-sorry. You’d be doing us a favour by not wasting our money and food. What do you say?” You hesitantly asked the trio who didn’t speak vocally; their eyes meeting in a silent conversation.

Reggie sighed as he begrudgingly dropped his hotdog in the bin near the couch, “Pizza outranks street dogs even if the dogs are heaven and to die for.”

“Literally.” You grumbled forcefully pushing the obscenely large pizza box into the middle one’s stomach, “I’m Y/N, this is my little sister Harper.”

“Hi.” Harper shyly waved with cheeks turning a dust pink concealed by the dark of the alleyway. The boys’ lips all quirked at the sudden contrast from the confident sister slamming her elbow in you to the bashful teen.

“I’m Luke. This is Reggie and Alex.” The hooded one, Luke, introduced his bandmates as best he could with his hands occupied by the pizza box.

Without the threat of death by the hot dog, you actually took the time to look at Luke with appraising eyes. His eyes were like oceans of blues, greens and even a brown that both exhilarated you; the desire of studying them not surprising. His smile outshone the sun on the hottest day in August.

“Nice to meet you.” You informed the trio with a beaming smile that matched your starstruck little sister. The interaction gave you the opportunity for immense and untiring future teasing on the teen that daydreamed of the bassist. 

You had to admit the trio were incredibly attractive.

“Come back to the dressing room. We can eat there out of the cold.” Alex courteously invited the two formerly strangers. His blues sharing his pure intentions to repay you for saving their lives and offering pizza. 

“Of course.” Harper nodded her head with her eyes barely meeting the ones of the boys. The shell was broken when Reggie piped up.

“That’s a really cool pin! Where’d you find it?”

Gated Community, Los Angeles, 2002

An off-tune humming filled the modestly sized home in the suburbs of Los Angeles, California with the sound of water splashing. Doing the dishes was a mindless chore that typically didn’t bother you, but the pain in your lower back protested. You’d have used the dishwasher, but the thing was perpetually breaking down. Didn’t seen essential to replace when washing dishes by hand was just as productive.

Or it was when you didn’t have the extra weight in your midsection, a symbol of your love with your husband. In fact, you would have avoided doing dishes if you hadn’t just used the last clean plate and glass at breakfast plus Luke hadn’t been home in the previous week.

Sunset Curve had gone on a press tour for the upcoming album and tour planned for next year.

“Oof.” You moaned as the little rascal once more hit your bladder, “Are you breaking electric guitars in there?”

“Not a soccer player?”

“With you as their father? Not likely.” You snorted as the sudden appearance of Luke became clear. You hadn’t been expecting him, “I missed you. We missed you.”

As had it since you first told him Luke’s warm hand came to rest on the front of your swollen belly. In a short month, you’d be cradling the newest member of the Patterson family with Luke singing the lullaby he solely made for baby P.

“Still haven’t given in?” The lead guitarist teased you with a beaming smile splitting his face, “Go sit down. I’ll finish the dishes.”

You didn’t need to be asked twice. 

“I’m not abusing my clairvoyance to foresee our child’s gender, name and appearance.” You pointed one finger in his direction, “I refused Bobby’s pleading to see which models he would bed. The only time I did something like that was to reassure Alex that he would fall in love with a lovely guy.”

Luke’s heart burst with sheer adoration at how easily you had sunk into the friendship with the band after that one night. A night that had given birth to a friendship that slowly evolved into a romance and marriage. To this day, the group got together as much as possible.

“I love you.” Luke chuckled, “Even-”

“-if I came into your life like a completely crazy person?”

“We’re all a little crazy.”

Your house surely would be when a little tornado with Luke’s energy took over the home you’d made with Luke. The very home you would have more children and grow old together until soon you held your grandkids on your laps.

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[queenoftheworldisdead]

Mr. President

Part 1, Part 2

Summery: After the election the Presidential nominee, Steve Rogers, takes an interest in his campaign manager.

Warning: non consent, light bondage, choking, violence, smut

my first real smut. love to know where i could improve.

Dark Steve x Reader

Being Captain America's campaign manager had to be the easiest campaign you ever managed. The perfect soldier put Americans at ease. Especially with the current administration self sabotage. Although he would be the oldest president to date he didn't look it. Not to mention he would be easily the sexiest president since Kennedy.

Tonight the votes were counted and America's golden boy won. Steve swept the election to become the next President of the United States.

Streamers and confetti rained down as the announcement came through. After the press interviews and the almost endless congratulations you lost track of the President elect.

You blamed it on the champagne that flowed through the event like water. You toasted almost every staffer you came across, hugged donors and party members.

By the time you caught sight of Sam you were most definitely buzzed. He was celebrating too with some blonde campaign aid that's named slipped your mind at that moment.

"Hey Sam! Have you seen Steve?" You shout at him as you make your way through the room. You needed to discuss the plans for tomorrows press tour before you called it a night.

Pulling himself away covered in lipstick his heavily lidded eyes looked at you. He managed to inform you of Steve's whereabouts, he had snuck off to his Presidential suite. It made sense, the super soldier could never get drunk and was seen as a prude much to the delight of the more conservative  supporters. A fact that helped them over look his non marital status.

You remind Sam to not have too much fun tonight before departing. It took some effort, but you managed to cut through the crowd without having to stop for too long. Compared to how you felt you were sure Steve must have been exhausted.

Finally you slipped out of the hall, down the corridor and into one of the elevators. The slow ride up to the Presidential floor gave you a respite of peace. When you made it to his floor you got off and from down the hall you saw two FBI agents at his door.

It was a standard procedure for agents to be assigned to the parties nominee. The sight of which always made you giggle. You knew it was standard practice, but Steve was not only a super hero. He also had the support of the Avengers so you didn't see the point in it.

As you approached the door the agents stopped to do their standard protocol. They checked your I.D. and patted you down before allowing you to enter in.

Since you were in charge of his campaign you had a key to his room so knocking never crossed your mind. As the door swung open you could hear the faint sounds of slurping. Furrowing your brow you scanned the room as you entered.

Though the couch faced opposite the door you could see the back of Steve's head. He looked so relaxed, his head lolled backwards with his arms out stretched on the couch.

When the door clicked shut a second head popped up beside Steve. He was not alone and when that fact registered your stomach fell.

Unlike the Aid you saw with Sam you knew this one, Charlene. She reminded you of a younger you, ambitious, a go-getter, with an interest in the maddening campaign process. You had practically taken her under your wing. So the utter shock of seeing her head pop up from what seemed to be Steve's lap had you speechless.

The aid's eyes widen when she turned around to find you at the door with your mouth ajar. Steve's back was still to you, but you could see him whisper in Charlene's ear. She got up with a jump instantly, disheveled, fixing herself, her head down as she walked towards the door. Her head never lifted as she scurried past you, your head following her out the door, closing shut behind her.

You turned back to Steve, who was currently standing and tucking himself back into his pants. The shock of it all was quite sobering.

"What the hell Steve!" You scream at him. You were taken aback by the volume of your own voice.

"You just won the election and this is what you do! Are you insane!" You march over to him.

"Calm down...relax" he lifted his hands in defense with a soft smile on his face.

Why the hell is he smiling?

"Calm down? What do you mean calm down? A scandal like this your first term! What were you thinking?" Your mind immediately thought of how the opposition basically crucified Clinton.

His nonchalant attitude only served to further rile you. Then it clicked.

"This wasn't the first time was it? Was she the only one? How many?" You paced back and forth in the living room of the suite. Your brain was in damage control mode.

He sighed racking his fingers through his hair with the other on his hip.

"It's not the first time and she is the only one." He sighed as you stopped and stood there while he explained.

The news though not as bad as you anticipated was still not good. You crossed your arms and contemplated strategies.

Digging out your phone you look through your contacts to pull together a strategy meeting incase things come out.

Everyone was more than likely drunk off their asses, but this was a code red. But as you were lost in thought and your phone Steve stepped towards you. His hand snatched away your phone, dangling it above your head as you jumped and grab for it.

"Steve what are you doing I need to figure out a plan to get ahead of this if this gets out" you say frustrated as you continued to jump and try to get your phone back.

You place your hands on his shoulder to help you get more lift from your jump. As he dangles the phone just out of reach again his other arm wraps around your waist on your descent. When you feel his arm lock you in place you gasp as he pulls you into his chest.

The way your breast bounced as you fought fruitlessly to retrieve your phone made is already hard cock ache with anticipation. Looking down at you Steve fought the urge to take you right then and there.

Though you had interrupted the fun he was having his cock was undeterred. Maybe if you weren't so preoccupied by his antics you would have noticed that his cock had yet to yield. But when Steve pressed your body to his he couldn't fight back the grin as he watched your eyes grow wide.

He made his member jump in his pants and you pulled back when you felt the movement.

"What are you doing? Stop!" You demanded as you tried to push off him, but his grip was unrelenting.

"You don't have to worry about her I've gotten it taken care off" Smiling at you his bright eyes so innocent had now become dark.

He found it funny how you struggled, pushing and pulling away.

When he released you, you stumbled back a bit. "If I didn't know any better I would think you were drunk" you say frustratedly straightening your clothes as you collect yourself.

While you were distracted he began stuffing your phone in his back pocket.

"This is serious Steve" you huffed out trying to brush off his antics.

He didn't reply. He just stared at you. A look you never seen on him and it was very strange to you. His normally wholesome, boy next door, all American look was gone. Now a darkness stood in its place, something filled with a carnal hunger.

Steve was a man at the end of the day. A man in need of release. When you were brought on to lead his campaign he thought nothing of you. But that didn't last long. The longer you stayed around him it was hard to not developed feelings. You were a constant in his chaotic political life. You styled him, coached him through speeches and debates. A cheerleader he didn't know he needed and wasn't sure that he wanted to let go even though the campaign was over.

He knew that during the electoral race you would never jeopardize the campaign with such a scandal. So when you introduced Charlene to him, he decided she would be a meager substitute as he bid his time.

Loosening his tie just enough that the loop passed freely over his head.

"Look I know your upset..." he said walking over to you casually with tie in hand. "You don't have to worry about her"

You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut off your words and proceeded onward. "I've been in love with you for quite sometime." The confession was a shock. You had no clue he had ever thought of you more than just a friend.

Slipping the tie over the crown of your head much to your bewilderment. Pulling the knot tight as it passed your chin. Resting the heart on the middle of your throat.

"This is serious we need to get..." Brushing off his confession as you spoke he cinched it tighter, too tight. The fabric was hugging your neck uncomfortably, making it hard to breathe. You pulled at the fabric as it restricted you, but he slapped your hands away.

"I wanted to wait until after the inauguration to ask you this." He spoke coolly straightening the tie again as you start to gasp at the lack of circulation. Your hands shoot up again only to be thrown aside.

Every inhale was starting to become a struggle. "I think the nation deserves a First Lady." Stepping back he admired you while keeping one hand trailing the end of the necktie halting at the hilt. "Don't you?"

"What are .... What's gotten into you Steve.... this isn't funny" you gasp out as you reach to untie the knot again.

His face frowned when you clawed at the fabric. He yanked on the tie so hard you felt like a yo yo smacking into a wall. Pinning your arms to his chest he snaked his arms around you locking you in place.

There was no music, but he swayed with you in his arms. Your foot catching his foot on every odd step, but he wasn't bothered. As he slow danced with you, you try and pull away but he would not stop.

"I need you to calm down and relax. I'm the new commander and chief now and throughout this process I realized how much you've done for me and how much I need to keep you in my life."

"I understand Steve I do, but that’s not what you need to focus on right now...." That was a struggled to get out with the tie on your throat. "This is a fragile time" you managed to breathe out. He stopped maybe he was starting to finally listen to reason.

His lips crashed into you without notice. Your mouth felt bruised as a result. He started nipping at your bottom lip, your mouth fell open as you hissed in pain his tongue invaded you. It didn't take long before the choking restraint of the knot and Steve's kisses made you breathless.

Your vision was starting to fade and a panic set in.

Get it together and focus.

"St.." you try to speak, but his mouth swallowed your words.

"Mr. President" pulling back he corrected you. His voice dipping to a low growl. "Say it."

"Mr. President" The words felt foreign as it passed your lips. He was starting to scare you.

When he cocked his hand back you hadn't noticed. Not until his massive palm collided with your ass you screamed on impact, but  he only swallowed it. Gripping your ass tightly the sting of the smack had you trying desperately to get away.

You hadn't realized you were crying until the salty taste hit your tongue. He must've tasted it too. He moved from your mouth to kiss along your cheeks moving methodically to your neck. The sensation of which you couldn't deny felt good. So good you were stunned to hear the faintest of moans leaving your mouth.

While one of Steve's hands gripped firmly on your ass the other moved between your bodies. You stiffen at the realization of where it was heading. Stopping at your waist he unfastened the button on your pants and slowly dragged the zipper down.

"Steve.. please" you beg. Your arms were useless against his strength.

The hand that gripped your ass smacked you again for the infraction making you yelp. It took too much energy to push away than for him to hold you in place. That coupled with the lack of oxygen you felt like your body would collapse so you held his shirt to keep from falling.

"Mr. President please" You cry out but it sounded more like a moan. That must have urged him on because he began sucking on your neck with such force you were sure you would have hickeys that no amount of concealer could hide.

When his fingers grazed your panty line you shoot yours down to try and stop him, but the super soldier just flicked you off. When that failed you crossed your legs tightly together, but his knee forced them apart. Allowing your pants to pool at your feet. The cold air of the room prickled your skin helping to only intensify your trembling.

Pushing past the elastic his meaty digits separated your folds. He hummed on your neck as he felt them slicker from your wetness. Shame filled you as tears continued to roll down your face.

"Stop please" Your sob of protest were cut off as two digits thrust into you. Steve curled them inside of you the feel of which created a wave of pleasure that radiated through you. Biting your bottom lip you fight the fire he was stoking. It felt so good his fingers deep in you.

"Fuck!" you blurted out as you reach up to grip his shoulders. You could feel your toes curl as pumped in and out of you.

"Mr.President" you didn't recognize your voice as you panted out. He dipped deeper inside you, your juices coating his fingers.

Leaning away from you he stared at you, drinking in the sight of you coming undone from him.

"Take off your top" his voice commanded.

When he sensed your hesitation he slipped in another digit. You bit down on your bottom lip hard as you try and choke down a moan.

"I won't ask again." The thickness of his voice had you fighting against your better judgement. You looked at him and his face was serious.

Your hands rose and you begrudgingly start to unbutton the blouse. He could see your bra, leaving one hand inside you the other sought to free your globes. Pulling them free with a grunt. You hissed and mewled at every pinch and twist of your nipples. He didn't stop until both were hard.

"Do you like how I make you feel?" He asked but by the look on your face he knew. When you didn't answer he twisted your left  nipple.

"Yes" that answer wasn't good enough so he twisted harder.

"Yes Mr. President" as a reward he licked circles around your aureola. Kissing it, licking your throbbing nipple with his tongue.

Through your moans you hear the traitorous sounds of your sex. Your heat was coming to its precipice. You gripped his shoulders as to stead yourself from collapsing.

The squirming of your body only seemed to encourage him as he used the heel of his palm to press against your clit as he violated you.

You were getting close, your pussy started to tighten around his fingers.

"Hmmm nope none of that." He growled again. " we just got started celebrating."

Taking his fingers from you, your mouth released a whimper.

Grabbing the end of the tie again. "On your hands and knees"  his lips stealing kisses before stepping back. You shakily lower yourself.

Lowering your head in shame for allowing him to treat you this way. He started to walk as you pressed your palms on the cold marble. Your knees mopping the floor as you trail behind him.

When he reached the open door of the master bedroom he jerked the leash of the tie to hurry you forward. You stopped beside him in the doorway and he crouched down to meet you at eye level. His wholesome smile appeared to you as he lifted your head with his index finger.

"OK up on the bed."

Rising to your feet walk over to the bed as he stood in the doorway watching you.

"Take it all off" he said coolly as he tossed his blazer to the floor. Unbuttoning his shirt then his pants.

Sniffing as you unfastened your bra letting it drop past your arms throwing it on the ground. Lying on your back you raised your butt to slide you ruined panties down, kicking them to the floor.

Before they hit the ground the speed at which he met you was neck breaking.

He stood at the edge of the bed his bright blue eyes grown dark with lust. When he placed a knee on the you felt your heart race as it the bed dipped. Your arms cover yourself as you press your legs firmly together. The warmth of his hand on your knee mixed you with fire and dread. His hands began pulling your legs apart with ease despite your resistance.

Lowering his head he places kisses along your inner thigh. The sensation of his lips on your skin make you inhale sharply. Licking your folds and sucking on your clit you grew wetter.

You started hating yourself for loving the way he lapped you up. Licking in-between your folds. Pushing his tongue in and out of your pussy as you fight off another moan. Flattening his tongue he raised it past your lips taking care to linger on your clit before he began to kiss up your tummy.

Stopping on your breast he took your wrists and held them above your head. Holding them with one hand he used the other to massage and gently kiss each breast. Taking your hard nipples into his teeth pulling and sucking on them again as his other hand played with he other.

"Shit" you exclaim. He looks up at you with a frown lightly smacking your breast.

"Language" he said with a stern voice. Moving up again his lips  kissed along your chest and up your neck.

The closer he got to your neck the more you could feel his cock proud your entrance. His pre-cum mixing with your slick lips. You moved your hips but his cock pressed harder as it followed.

"Steve please" you try again to reason.

At the sound of his name he impaled you fully. Bottoming out inside your pussy stretched to receive him. You shrieked and instinctively tried to get away from him. Snacking an arm around your back he locks you in place. Each thrust sent shock waves through your body.

"Mr. President" you say as his cock filled you past your limit. "Fuck!" You were becoming delirious with every stroke the pain had you crying out.

"So fucking tight" He slammed into you unforgivably. The pain started to mix with pleasure. You could feel the warmth again. The need to cum and it was becoming harder and hard to resist it.

For one lucid moment you tried tearing out of his grip and pull yourself backwards, but he held you like a vice. Your pussy started to tighten around his cock as he continued to impale you.

"That's it" he growled as your climax build.

"Tell me what you want?"

Ashamed you tell him you want to cum. He released your hands and settled on your neck. Even with his grip on your throat you could still feel yourself about to explode.

You were so dizzy with pleasure you couldn't comprehend what he asked.

"Tell your president you want to cum all over his cock"

"Mr. President" you croaked. "Please let me cum Mr. President!"

"Good girl cum for me" as the words left his mouth you clinched his cock coming so hard you saw stars and stripes.

As you came his movements became erratic. The clinching of your pussy milked him. His cock twitch and pulse inside of you as he emptied himself into you. His arms gave out and he fell on-top of you crushing you under his weight. You both lay there exhausted, sweaty, falling into a slumber.

It wasn't long before you awoke. Steve was sitting on the edge of the bed studying you.

"You know I think you might be right." He said as your eyes began to open. "I think a family lifestyle might not be what the nation is looking for in me."  

"That post nut clarity...huh" he chuckled.

"Steve..." You try and croak out but he was already on your neck. You scratched and dug into his skin, but to no avail. Your vision became spotty and within seconds the lights were completely out.

Despite his buddies political victory Bucky was resigned to stay in his room. He was watching the broadcast of the announcement that was happening in the same hotel he was in.

He had been told to stay out of sight throughout Steve's campaign as to not tarnish the golden boys image.

Though he had long since been freed from HYDRA'S brainwashing and has more than once proven himself a patriot he still had to stay back.

*Ring Ring

When his cell phone lit up he was surprise to see that it was Steve.

"Congratulations Punk" he smirked over the phone.

"Ha" Steve laughed softly. "Can you come to my room if your free?"

When he arrived he wasn't surprised to see Y/N. This wasn't the first time he had been called to do clean up duty.

Rolling Y/N in the duvet and he got to work.

"Hey Buck" Steve called from the duvet bedroom.

Bucky turned to meet his friends gaze. Steve dug out your cell phone from his back pocket. He tosses it over to Bucky.

"Charlene too"

With a nod Bucky left the room with Y/N over his shoulder. Steve didn't need to worry about security cameras Tony would handle that. The agents at the door would be taken care of by Wanda.

As the elevator doors closed that’s when he felt it. The duvet moved.

[hanoella]

Affettuoso- With Feeling (Part 8)

Pairing: Bucky x Pianist!Reader

Set after the events of TFATWS: In an effort to start over and make a home in Louisiana, Bucky meets a friend of Sam’s who ends up being his landlord. With only a driveway to separate them, he finds that he’s not the only one looking for a fresh start.

Series tags/warnings: Slow Burn, Eventual Bucky x Reader, Mentions of Domestic Abuse, Canon Level Violence, PTSD, PG-17 Romantic Content (oooooh), talk of sex

Part 8 Word Count: Just under 8k

A/N: It's starting to heat uppppppp👀. I always sort and curate the music so that you can listen to the music as you read the story and match the tone, starting from where I insert the song. Unfortunately, tumblr is being idiotic, and now I can't post the songs to play in-app for some reason. Sorry guys😭 If you haven't given it a try, I highly recommend!

Once again, thank you for all your support! Every heart and comment motivates me and is just so wonderful.

Taglist!: @vicmc624 @officiallykuute @undiadeestos @tailsoflightning @buckys2thicc @mischief-siriusly-managed

Winter

Bucky looked in the mirror nervously, mussing his hair up. It was a bit longer than when he had first come to Louisiana, and he had been overwhelmed by the sheer number of choices when it came to men’s hair products. He thought it looked okay, using the man on the front of the packaging as reference. It was a good thing you two were taking your car. He wasn’t sure if his work would’ve survived the motorcycle helmet. Glancing over the rest of his ensemble, he gave himself a nod of assurance. It was concert weekend, and also the day you were going on your first date. After contemplating on when to go, you had suggested a late night dinner after that weeks second concert and Bucky had thought it was a fine idea at the time. Though, now, he realized that he would have to sit through the concert first.

He picked up the bouquet of flowers he had gotten with the hair product the other day and headed to the door. Before leaving, he bent down to pet a sleepy Alpine, who was currently dozing peacefully in the last rays of the sun for the day.

“Wish me luck.” He said to the cat, who purred in response.

He left and crossed the driveway to your house. Knocking on your screen door, he waited expectantly.

“Come in!” He heard you call from inside.

He opened the screen door and crossed the threshold. He’d done it plenty of times before, but this time felt different. Seeing that the living room and kitchen were empty, he headed down the hall to your bedroom, where the light was filtering out of. Cautiously opening the door, he saw you sitting at the vanity, dressed in your typical rehearsal outfit of a blouse and slacks, and putting on the final touches to your makeup. You blinked to adjust to the mascara and turned towards him, a smile spreading across your cheeks.

“Hey!” You stood up to hug him and then take him in. “You look great, Buck.”

“Thanks, you too.” He replied, still coming across rather stiff from the nervousness. You looked up at him, slightly amused but keeping it to yourself. After a moment of gazing at your features that were complemented by the makeup you had just put on, Bucky cleared his throat and gifted you the bouquet.

“Oh, these are beautiful. Thank you so much.” You said as you admired the large white peonies, accented by bundles of pink hydrangeas and various types of eucalyptus. A green satin bow held the stems together as you felt the velvety petals between your fingertips. You grabbed his hand afterwards and squeezed it as you held the bouquet to your chest. “Thank you,” you repeated as you looked up at him. Bucky felt slightly more at ease, giving you a small but genuine smile.

“Of course.”

You set the bundle down gently before going over to your bed and unzipping the garment bag and holding the dress out for him to see.

“Is this too much to wear for the concert and then dinner? I figured I’d dress a little simpler so I don’t stand out too much at the restaurant.”

Bucky stepped closer and touched the luxurious navy blue fabric. The dress was cut so that it had a slight halter neckline, exposing minimal shoulder. It wasn’t until he saw the bottom end of the dress that he caught a glimpse of what you normally liked to wear. Flowers and greenery adorned the bottom half of the skirt, detailed in such a way that it looked like they had been painted right on the dress. The soft pastel brushstrokes formed rounded petals and long wispy leaves.

“It’ll look great on you.” He said with affection in his tone. “But you don’t have to change anything for me. All the gowns that you wore before looked great too, but what really makes them is the fact that you’re wearing them.”

It was your turn to blush, turning slightly to try and hide the pink on your face. You thanked him softly before excusing yourself to the kitchen to get a vase for the flowers. As you were filling the vase with water, you held your hand to your cheek in an effort to cool down your face. Coming back to your room, you put the flowers in water and turned to Bucky, who had sat himself down on the edge of the bed.

“Ready to go?”

---

Bucky sat on the green velvet couch in your dressing room, reading something on his phone as he listened to the rustling behind the room divider behind him.

“How do I look?” You asked, coming out from behind the divider and into the room. You were dressed in the gown from earlier, now with black flats and earrings that mimicked flower petals falling in the wind. You had decided on a more romantic look for your hair, settling on large loose waves, one side pinned back with a dainty silver bar clip.

He couldn’t help but smile.

“Beautiful.”

Who knew one word could give you such a fluttering in your stomach.

“Thank you.”

You sat next to him, folding one leg underneath of you and leaning against the couch, facing him.

“Are you going to be okay up in that box all by your lonesome?” you teased, reaching across and grabbing the tips of his fingers with yours.

“I hope so. I’ve got a date tonight.” He replied playfully. He always felt so warm, so comforting. You looked at him with affection before your eyes flitted to the clock behind him.

“I should probably get to the stage.” You sighed while you said it, reluctantly starting to get up and pull your hand away. Before you could completely escape his grasp, he squeezed your hand slightly.

“You’ll do great. See you after?” His look was slightly reminiscent of a puppy. You smiled wistfully and squeezed his hand back.

“See you after.”

You separated in the hall, you going one way to the stage and him going the other way to the box. Before he stepped inside, he realized he didn’t have a program. He made his way to the front and found an usher with a stack of programs.

“Can I have one of those?” He asked, coming off slightly more gruffly than he meant to.

“Sure, sir.” The usher handed him one and Bucky thanked him before turning. Halfway down the hall, he picked up the whispering of another usher who had come up to the one that had the programs.

“Is that Ms. Novikov’s boyfriend?”

“No way, is that who that was?”

“He always sits in her own personal box. It has to be.”

Boyfriend. Such a funny word. Bucky hadn’t been anyone’s boyfriend in decades. It almost felt silly to be dating somebody. It was like someone blowing all of their money on something they couldn’t afford. It felt reckless to invest so much feeling and time and emotion when he had so little of those things on his own. Yet, what little he had, he gladly spent on you.

“He is so hot. I would just let him-“

Bucky’s eyes widened as he heard several terms he didn’t understand. Clearing his throat, he walked a little faster back to the box.

---

You had laughed so hard that you were crying as Bucky tried to repeat some of the stuff he had overheard. Deciding to check on him during intermission, you had popped up to the box for a minute. After complimenting you on your playing, having performed what Bucky thought to be amazingly, as you usually did, he couldn’t stop the face he had made as his mind thought back to the usher. Needing to sit down, you had sat in one of the seats in the box, doubled over in a combination of laughing and crying.

“It’s not that funny!” Bucky whisper-yelled at you, as you gasped for breath, face in hands. He turned around to see that the next several boxes were looking over to see what the commotion was. One particular look on an older woman’s shocked face made him turn around quickly and try not to laugh.

“It’s not funny!” He said again, though now he was obviously trying to hold back his own laugh, which just made you laugh even harder.

Starting to calm down, you leaned back onto the seat, still clutching your stomach. Letting out some deep breaths, a burst of giggles fell out of your mouth, evolving into full on laughter again.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You said, regaining some semblance and wiping your eyes carefully as to not ruin any makeup. “That is just hilarious. I love it.” You concluded as you sighed and closed your eyes.

“You are just… something else.” Bucky replied, a huge smile overcoming his face despite the fact that he was shaking his head. The lights flickered overhead to signal the end of the intermission. You got up, straightening out the skirt of your dress and giggling.

“You can meet me at the dressing room after.” You said, waving your fingers at him. He had the same smile on his face as he watched you sweep aside the curtains and disappear. As embarrassing as it was, Bucky was thankful that it had broken the ice, no longer leaving him feeling awkward, nervous in your presence. As he was turning back to face the front, Bucky made eye contact with the same old lady in the box next door. Quickly, he cleared his throat and settled in his seat, adjusting so that he was sitting up straighter.

Several minutes went by before the conductor came back out, followed by you. He gave his usual introduction of the piece, explaining the history and the background behind the melody they were about to hear. This one was another piano feature- this time by Chopin.

The opening note was long and forceful, followed by a back and forth of a set of notes on your left hand that quickly sped up into an impressive speed. Your right hand entered the melody, quickly flitting back and forth to the end of the keys. The quickening of the keys sounded desperate, like a hare running frantically to safety from the jaws of a predator.

Both of your hands ran down from the higher keys to the low ones, somehow managing to hit very precisely on each intended note on the way down. Once in the lower octaves, the melody slowed. Your hand movements were graceful, body language and tone changing to one of peace. You spent some time exploring the gentle melody, conveying a feeling similar to the quiet after the storm. Just as Bucky expected the end of the melody, what would’ve been a period in the phrase of the major key, turned into a comma. The minor key from before took control of the music once more, somehow more desperate than before. The pace of your breathing sped up as you put more force behind the fleeting notes. The minor key evolved into a more complex intertwining of notes before unraveling into a major key once again, saying its last words and taking its last breath before dissipating into the auditorium.

Applause burst forth from the crowd, conveying more than Bucky could ever put into words about how incredible your performance was. How incredible you were. Still catching your breath, you stood at the conductor’s prompting, stealing a glance at Bucky, who was standing as he clapped, before bowing in acceptance of the praise.

---

After the concert, he drove you to New Orleans. At the restaurant, you were sat at a table on the edge of the dining room behind a low privacy partition. It was dimly lit, the small candle in the middle of the table creating a very intimate atmosphere. You sat across from each other at the two-person table, browsing the menu. Yours was laid flat on the table as you leaned over it, resting your chin on your clasped hands. Bucky’s was held up, serving as a way for him to sneak glances at you. The candlelight gave your hair an ever-moving sheen. It was nothing compared to how it lit the color of your eyes as you met his eye and smiled.

The romantic piano music played softly in the background as he set the menu down and let a gentle smile overtake his features. Your eyelids slowly lowered. You loved the little crow’s feet that appear by his eyes when he genuinely smiled.

“How’d I do on the first date setting?” You asked. The cozy restaurant had been your pick.

“You hit it out of the park. It’s very nice.” Bucky replied, leaning in a little closer so that he could cross his arms slightly onto the table.

“Isn’t it? There’s a few of them across the country. I used to at the one in New York while I went to Julliard. Can you guess what I did?” You chuckled as you pointed your head in the direction of the live piano music coming from the stage.

“Hmm… Dishwasher? No wait, valet?”

Bucky lives for the smile that comes across your face when you try not to laugh at his antics.

“Absolutely. Always wanted to be a valet. It’s my dream job.” You joked back with a twinkle in your eye. The waiter came up to the table, causing you both to lean slightly back. After introducing themselves and setting two glasses of water down, they asked for your drink order. Bucky nodded for you to go first, ever the gentleman. You turned your head towards the waiter, your gaze lingering on Bucky before giving full attention towards them as you spoke.

“What are some of the best whiskeys you have to recommend?”

Bucky could’ve spit out his water. This place could not be cheap. His suspicions were confirmed as the waiter started listing off various whiskeys that were at least a decade old. About three whiskeys into the list, you saw Bucky tilt his head out of the corner of your eye. Glancing at him, you raised your eyebrows as if to ask if he was interested. He raised his eyebrows and gave a small nod.

“We’ll have that one please.” You said, stopping the waiter when he finished the description. You had selected the sixteen year old single malt with notes of plums, apricots, white truffles, honey, dark chocolate, and hazelnuts. As soon as the waiter turned around, Bucky leaned in and gave you a look of incredulousness.

“Doll, I am all for the finer things in life but that whiskey has got to be a pretty penny.”

You leaned in as well, with a dreamy look on your face.

“Well, if it gets you to call me ‘doll’ then I’ll buy the whole bottle.”

---

Bucky actually did end up liking it so much that you ordered a bottle to take home. He had tried to stop you from paying for it, but you insisted, saying this whole date was on you.

“Just pay for the next one. I picked the fancy place, so I should pay! Besides, you do so much for me all of the time.”

Eventually, he caved in and let you, the assurance of a second date placating him. Dinner had been equally as delicious and sprinkled with easy conversation. Dessert was set on the table with two spoons to share. The entire night was going wonderfully. At this point, with a few bites of dessert left, both of you were lounging while listening to the gentle music as he held your hand across the table.

A group was getting up from the table across the divider when one of them glanced over and recognized you.

“Irina Novikov!”

Your hand left Bucky’s instinctually as you looked in the direction of the voice. Easing when you realized it was a concert goer, you smiled as the group came over to your table.

“We just came from your performance, you did an excellent job. We’ve been coming all season and it’s wonderful to be able to talk to you in person.” A middle aged man said as the rest of his group nodded enthusiastically.

“The pleasure’s all mine. I’m so happy that you enjoy the music that we perform.” You said, shaking his hand.

“Would you, perhaps, be willing to sign our programs?”

“Absolutely.” You said, as you took the pen. You paused slightly before writing the signature. Bucky could tell that you hadn’t thought about it before- how to sign the new name. You signed everyone’s program, making sure to ask for their name and including a short thank you for their support.

“I look forward to seeing you in the audience the next time you’re able to visit.” You said as you handed back the last program and pen. They graciously thanked you and walked away, leaving you to look at Bucky, who was admiring you.

“What?” You asked, cheeks flushing.

“Nothing. You’re just so good to them. Does that happen often?”

“I try to be. I’m sure if I had more people always coming up to me I’d be less patient. To answer your question, it happens occasionally. It happened a lot in New York when I played with the symphony up there. But that was a long time ago.” You looked down wistfully, thinking of the past. Then, you looked up and grabbed his hand.

“But I’m pretty happy where I am now. Don’t doubt that.”

Bucky felt a fluttering in his chest.

After settling the bill and giving Bucky the bottle of whiskey, you put your coat on and held Bucky’s hand as you walked to out of the restaurant. On the way home, he drove as you hummed along to the radio, watching the road signs and the streetlights pass. Eventually the highway turned into main streets and main streets turned into side streets. Maybe if he drove slower, the night didn’t have to end.

Parking in the driveway, Bucky signaled for you to wait before he jogged around the front of the car, opening your door and holding out a hand.

“Oh, what a gentleman.” You laughed as you took his outstretched hand and stepped out of the car. Taking his arm, you let him walk you to your front door. You turned the key and opened the door, turning on the lights before facing him again.

“Well. This was wonderful. I had such a good time.” You said, hugging him around the neck. He wrapped his arms tightly around your waist.

“Me too.”

You pulled back, letting your hands run down his arms and holding his hands in yours.

“I think it’s safe to say that there will be a second date.” You stated teasingly, squeezing his hands.

“I would say you’re right.” He said, boyish charm coming through. You wondered if this is what he was like back before the war. Smiling, you looked into his eyes.

“Thank you for taking me out. You’re so lovely to be with, and it feels unreal to be with you. I think I’ve wanted this for a long time.” Affection was laced throughout your tone.

Bucky opened his mouth to say something and nothing came out. He squeezed your hands once, as if to make sure you were real, and shook his head.

“You took the words right out of my mouth. That’s exactly how I feel about you.”

There was a slight pause before Bucky closed the gap between you. Your bottom lip was between his and you closed your eyes as your hands held his face to yours. You felt your fingertips scrape across his stubble as he held you in his arms, hands supporting your back as he deepened the kiss. After a few moments, you pulled back, a flush over your face and the cold air exposing your breathlessness. He let out a quiet breathy laugh and you did the same.

“You have… no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” He said as he softly put his forehead to yours.

“You took the words right out of my mouth.” You repeated his phrase with amusement. Reluctantly, you took your arms from around his neck and trailed them down to his hands, grabbing both. You took a moment to appreciate how perfectly his hands felt in yours, vibranium and all.

“Goodnight, Buck.”

He squeezed your hands lightly before slowly letting go of your hands.

“Goodnight.”

Putting his hands in his pockets, he waited for you to exit the house, reciprocating your wave as you softly shut the door. Letting out a deep breath, he walked leisurely across the driveway and up to his apartment. He loosened his tie with one hand as he greeted Alpine with the other. She followed at his heels as he got ready for bed, hopping up onto his chest when he finally laid down. Curling up into a ball, she purred as he scratched her neck. Alpine fell asleep almost immediately, but Bucky lay awake, the image of you laughing at something he said across the candlelit table occupying the forefront of his thoughts.

---

The second date had to be rescheduled due to business that Sam and Bucky had to take care of, once again, in D.C. Reluctantly, he had texted you to reschedule.

Have to go to DC tonight with Sam… Go out when we come back?

Bucky watched the bubble type.

If you don’t want to go out again, just say so

He felt like vomiting.

KIDDING! Of course we can.

Taking a deep breath, he typed out a reply.

Not funny. Almost gave me a heart attack. You gonna be okay for a few days?

I’ll be fine, just take care of yourself and be safe, please.

Will do, doll.

A little heart emoji you sent back made Bucky smile before he tucked his phone away and boarded the plane.

---

After a few days of cut-and-dry investigation, they were done by Saturday night. Since they were flying commercially, they had one more evening to kill before the next flight. Bucky was standing idly outside of the crowded comic book store that Sam was currently in. AJ had called Uncle Sam, asking if he could check for a specific volume of a comic that he liked. Happy to oblige, Bucky had told Sam that they could make the stop. Though, once seeing how crowded it was, Bucky opted to stay outside. Feeling a buzz in his pocket, he took out his phone to see a text from you pop up on his home screen. You had sent him a picture of Alpine curled up on the bed next to the dress you were going to perform in.

Alpine has approved my dress selection this evening!

Smiling at his screen as he sauntered down the sidewalk, he typed out his reply.

I agree with Alpine. Very nice selection.

He sent the text and paused, standing in place for a moment before sending a short addendum.

Sorry that I can’t be there.

It’s okay, there’s plenty others :)

Bucky looked up and saw that he had wandered a few stores down from the comic book shop. Craning his head, he didn’t see Sam yet. Turning back to the store in front of him, he glanced at the window display. A set of earrings on the edge of the display caught his eye. The soft pearls and winding gold took him back to another time. It was very reminiscent of the fancy jewelry that adorned the movie stars during his youth.

Glancing back down to the comic store, he had yet to see Sam out front. He took the opportunity to slip into the jewelers. There was a well-dressed couple looking at specific pieces of jewelry but otherwise, the store was empty. An unoccupied salesman approached Bucky warily.

“Can I help you sir?”

“Yes, um… I was interested in getting something from the window display.” Bucky said in a low tone as he gestured to the front. He was overly aware of how ‘rough around the edges’ he looked.

“Which one?” The salesman asked as Bucky followed him to the front. After the earrings were pointed out, the salesman took them out of the case. He gave a little background as he handed Bucky the set.

“This is from our vintage-inspired collection. Modeled after jewelry from the post-art-deco era in the 1930’s, these earrings are the perfect modern gift with a vintage twist.” They dangled on the velvet earring holder as Bucky took a closer look. They were perfect.

“How much?” Bucky asked.

“They’re a bit expensive sir- four hundred dollars.” The salesman said uneasily.

“I’ll take them.”

He paid for the gift and stepped out onto the street, stuffing the earring box into his pocket. No sign of Sam yet. Making his way back up the street, he checked his phone to see that you had texted him a link. He sat on the bench and tapped on the link, which took him to a video that you had uploaded of the opening piece from the night before. He smiled as he saw that you had recorded it from his usual spot in Box One. You walked across the stage on screen, doing your usual bow and taking a seat at the bench. He put the speaker of the phone up to his ear and waited for the playing to start.

“What’re you listening to?”

Bucky almost dropped his phone as Sam cackled.

“Are you finally done?” Bucky said, annoyance seeping out his tone.

“Yeah, c’mon.” Sam said, smirk still on his face.

That night in the hotel room, as Bucky was settling into bed, he played the video once more, this time actually getting to listen. It was a soft melody, warm and deceivingly intricate, lulling him to sleep.

---

The second official date was up to Bucky to plan, since you had gotten to plan the first one. It wasn’t anything extravagant, but he wanted it to be a surprise.

Dress code? You had asked.

He texted back to wear something comfy and casual. He had gone back to his roots, opting for dinner and a drive-in movie. Remembering your favorite snacks from grocery shopping, he made sure to stock up beforehand, stealing your keys and tucking them into the trunk of the car along with a cozy blanket.

He straightened out the wrinkles in his light grey long-sleeve shirt and checked to make sure his jeans and sneakers didn’t have mud on them from the driveway earlier. Satisfied with his appearance, he snagged his leather jacket and went to warm up the car.

Several minutes after he had gotten in the drivers seat and started the car, you stepped out of the house. Your white headband kept the hair out of your face as you locked the door behind you. You had put your hair into two braids that fell against the fuzzy crème sweater. With your outfit completed with light-wash jeans, white sneakers, and a small cross-body bag, Bucky thought you looked absolutely adorable.

“Hey.” He greeted you with a huge smile.

“Hey!” You replied as you messed with the seatbelt. After it clicked, you looked up at him, allowing Bucky to get a better look at you. You had put on a more natural set of makeup that just enhanced your already present features- your eyelashes curling just at the tips, your lips glossy and tinted-pink.

“Where are we going?” You asked.

“You’ll see.”

A coy smile came upon his lips as he shifted the car into drive. It was a longer drive and you made easy conversation as the sun started to set. It always set so early in the winter, making it feel way later than it was. Bucky exited the highway and you perked up curiously, looking to see if you recognized anything. Eventually, he merged into the turn lane, waiting for the light so that he could turn onto the street with a huge sign that read Drive-In Movies, This Way.

“Are we going to a drive-in movie?” You questioned excitedly. Bucky laughed at your enthusiasm and nodded his head.

“Yup. We are.”

You looked forward excitedly as the light turned green and he turned onto the road. Bucky pulled up to a toll booth and rolled down the window. A man peered into the car momentarily before ringing up the register.

“Twenty four dollars please.”

Wordlessly, Bucky pulled out his wallet and handed the man the cash. Letting his left arm hang out of the window while he waited for the change, he took his right and cupped it against the side of his mouth in a dramatic fashion.

“I remember when these used to be a dime.”

Your mouth twisted in an effort to hold back your laughter as Bucky thanked the man for the change. As you pulled off, you couldn’t help but snort.

“Okay, that was cute.” Bucky teased, getting the crow’s feet in the corner of his eyes that you liked so much. You gave him a wide smile as he pulled into the last row. Your eyes grew wide at the trailers playing on the screen.

“Wow, this is amazing. I’ve never been the a drive-in before. The screen is huge!” You turned your head. “And there’s a snack bar!”

“Hold on,” Bucky said as he popped the trunk and exited the car. He lifted the bag out of the trunk and came back around to the door, ducking his head so that he could see you.

“I’ve got some of your favorite,” he said as he passed you the bag of snacks, “and a blanket to stay warm in.”

Your eyes lit up as you looked through the snack bag. He had gotten a variety of candy he’s seen you eat, as well as chips and a bucket of kettle corn.

“Of course, if you want anything else, you can still go to the snack stand.”

“No, Buck, this is great. You’re amazing.” You said as you shook your head, still ruffling through the bag. He laughed and got back into the car, throwing the blanket into the back seat and pushing his chair back. As you got situated, the sun set fully and the movie began playing.

---

There were about thirty minutes left in the movie, and you and Bucky had finished up with the snacks and settled into your seats. The action on the screen did little to distract you from the way Bucky’s thumb rubbed the top of your hand. You stole a glance at him and he met your gaze with an easygoing smile on his face.

“Do you like the movie?” He asked when you did not turn back.

“Oh, yeah, I like it. I’ve actually seen it before. I just really like being here with you.” You propped your elbow up on the center console and rested your chin against your palm, looking at Bucky with a dreamy look in your eyes. “Am I distracting you from the movie?”

Bucky leaned closer to you with an amused look on his face.

“Yes, but I have also seen this movie before.”

It only took a few moments before his lips met yours, parting slightly to taste your strawberry lip gloss. His hand came up to softly hold your face, his thumb brushing against your jawline. When you came apart, the expression on your face made him swallow thickly. Hooded eyes and slightly parted lips tempted him beyond his means. This time, you leaned in to meet him in the middle, no hesitancy behind your actions. You captured his bottom lip, giving it a little kitten lick before gently sucking on it. Bucky let out a small groan into your mouth unintentionally, making your breath hitch.

You kissed for a while, small noises escaping both of you as you tilted your head occasionally to deepen the kiss. Bucky felt something stir in him that hadn’t in a long, long time. It was absolutely intoxicating, being with you like this. All he wanted was a little more. Breaking the kiss, he pulled back just a little, slightly breathless, just as you were. You let out a breathy laugh, cheeks warm and lips swollen. A beat passed before Bucky said something that made you almost choke.

“If we’re going to keep kissing, you should come over here and sit on my lap.”

You turned your head, looking through the car windows. There was no one parked particularly close to you, and your windows were tinted anyway. With an excited grin on your face, you scooted backwards over the center console until your back was resting on the driver’s side door. You were angled slightly to face him, your outstretched legs over his lap and on the center console towards the backseat. You hooked your arms around his neck and giggled. You hadn’t done anything like this since you were in high school.

He chuckled with you before closing the gap. You felt each others smiles as you kissed. Slowly, the kiss deepened. His arms wrapped around your waist as he tilted forward, leaning over you and giving him better access as you opened your mouth to let his tongue in. His hands moved to support the back of your head and your lower back, causing you to groan slightly and shift in his lap.

Bucky opened his eyes in surprise, panicking silently. You hadn’t noticed, eyes still closed as you continued to kiss him. He cursed in his head, shifting you up slightly so that your leg wasn’t resting right on his crotch. Thankfully, he was wearing jeans and you hadn’t given any indication that you had noticed. He chastised himself in his head.

C’mon man, you’re not fifteen anymore. You can’t go around getting stiff every time you kiss a girl.

The bright lights cut back on, startling you and Bucky apart. You squinted your eyes and looked out towards the screen. The credits had just finished. Looking back to Bucky, you both laughed before kissing once more.

---

Afterwards, he took you to a classic diner, treating you to dinner and dessert. There was a jukebox in the corner that you and Bucky had looked at, racking up a few songs. You had danced slightly in your seat when your favorites came on, making him grin like a love-struck fool.

The diner had been close to the drive-in, so the drive home was still pretty long. Full and content, you had dozed off to the tune of the radio playing softly in the background. Choosing to let you sleep, he drove back silently, looking over at you with a smile every once and a while.

He pulled up to the driveway and parked the car, gently leaning over to rub your arm.

“Hey,” he said quietly, “We’re home.”

You hummed in acknowledgement as you yawned and let you eyes adjust to the lights in the car.

“Mmm. Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“It’s okay, it’s late. Let’s get you inside.”

You slowly got up and out of the car, gravel crunching underneath of your shoes. Bucky walked with you up to the front door.

“Goodnight, Bucky.” You said groggily, leaning forward to kiss him. He met you halfway, pecking you on the lips.

“Goodnight.”

He watched you cross the threshold, giving you his usual three-fingered wave when you turned back to wave goodbye.

---

For the third date, you had told Bucky to wear his suit and tie. He had no idea what to expect. Hearing thunder outside, he took a peak through the blinds. The wind was really starting to pick up. Grabbing his phone and wallet, he gave Alpine a quick scratch before heading out. The wind was harsh, even for Bucky’s standards. He jogged across the driveway and up the porch, knocking on the door. A few seconds later, you answered, stepping out onto the porch.

“Hey, I wasn’t expecting the weather to be like this. I got us a reservation at the museum’s restaurant but I don’t think it’s a good idea to travel that far in the rain.”

You looked out at the sky as the wind whipped your hair around your face. Bucky took the moment to admire how attractive you were. You had on an emerald satin cowl-neck dress that had a slit up the side. Dainty gold earrings matched the shimmering tennis bracelet you on. Your heels gave you some height and made it look like you were showing off an ungodly amount of leg.

“I’m sorry Buck,” you started, looking back to him. “I think we’ll have to go out some other time.”

“I understand. You look beautiful, by the way.” He said as he grabbed both of your hands.

You thanked him with an affectionate smile before getting a thoughtful look on your face.

“Would you like to come in for a drink?”

---

You padded back to the living room with two glasses, heels discarded at the door. Bucky, sans coat and tie, had opened a bottle of whiskey. Tucking your leg under your knee, you sat close, facing him. You held out the glasses, letting him poured a small amount in each. He sat the bottle down and you held out your glass to clink it to his. You took a sip of liquid courage, trying to steel your nerves. You held your drink in your lap and put your arm up on the back of the couch, leaning your head on your hand.

“It’s strange how, once we started seeing each other, how much of a rush it feels. Does it feel like that to you?”

“I do. It feels like… I just can’t get enough.” He said with a chuckle.

“It’s quite nice.” You smiled softly. “To find someone you have an understanding with.”

Bucky nodded as he sipped on his drink. You’d only known each other for half of a year, but if he thought about it harder, you had spent a lot of that time together, especially during the last few months. Bonds are also strengthened during trials and tribulation- you were both people looking to start over, to live happily, to do what you love and have a sense of fulfilment.

“I just think you’re amazing. I think it’s amazing that you want to be with me. I went through so much for so long, and now I finally remember what it feels like to have a sliver of happiness. So thank you. It’s been a long time since I’ve wanted to be with anybody,” you started, looking down at your drink, “-and I would imagine it’s been the same for you.”

“Yeah. Since before the war.”

“There’s been nobody since?” Your face changed to one of empathy. Bucky took another sip of his drink.

“Nobody. Except you.” He glanced at you with a look of resolution and longing. Gently, you smiled back at him.

“I must be one lucky gal to catch you this late in the game.”

You looked at each other affectionately and kissed. It wasn’t rough, but still filled with passion. After a moment, you pulled apart. You looked up at him through your eyelashes and bit your lip. Bucky swallowed thickly.

“How… fast do you want to take things?”

He blinked in surprise at your words. He hadn’t expected a straight forward discussion about it, but then again, dating in this age was much different. It did make things refreshingly simpler.

“I, uh…”

You looked at him expectantly and he cleared his throat and apologized.

“Sorry. This is all new for me.”

You set a hand on his thigh encouragingly and offered to go first.

“I can start. I… haven’t been with anyone, physically, since my last relationship and you know how that ended. He could be a little… forceful, and that aspect of our relationship has proven to be one of the hardest things to heal from.”

At this point, you were looking down at your hand, tapping a soothing rhythm from muscle memory onto his thigh.

“… I’m sorry. That must be extremely painful to deal with. Nobody should have to go through that.” He put a hand onto your knee reassuringly, rubbing it with his thumb. You shook your head quickly.

“It’s in the past. I’m happy with where I am now. At the end of the day, that’s what matters. Or at least that’s what I keep telling myself… Either way, I guess what I’m trying to say is… I’m not completely sure what I’m ready for, and I might not know until the opportunity presents itself. Please, be patient with me as I figure this. It’s not because I don't trust you or think you'll hurt me, I just...” You trailed off.

“Of course. Whatever you need. Don’t be afraid to tell me if you’re uncomfortable,” he assured you. “If it makes you feel any better, I haven’t been with anyone… ever.”

“Really? Like, you’re not just saying that to make me feel better?” You looked at him in a way that implied that he better not be messing around.

“I mean, I’ve gotten a little handsy before,” he said in slight defense, lightening the tension. “but I’ve never been with anyone like that. We didn’t talk about stuff like this in the 40’s. It was expected that you… you know, wait until marriage. People still got together physically, but it was way less common back then. Believe it or not, Steve wasn’t the only gentleman out there.”

You nodded your head and looked at him, clearly impressed.

“No, I totally believe that. Wow. Playboy Sergeant Barnes, waiting for the right girl. You know they write about you like you basically invented premarital sex.”

“Pfft.” Bucky couldn’t hold back his laughter. You both fell apart into a round of giggles. You took another sip of your drink and tried to settle down, wiping your eyes and letting out a deep breath.

“So, are you waiting? To be married? It’s totally fine if you are, I’m just curious.”

Bucky shrugged his eyebrows, now bringing his arm to rest against the couch behind you.

“Not anymore. I think I might’ve then, but that was a lifetime ago. I think what matters most is how comfortable I feel with the person. Besides, it’s rude to keep a lady waiting.” His tone changed, wearing a teasing smile on his face. You rolled your eyes, though still smiling, and put a hand on his chest lightly.

“Very funny, Buck. I’m glad we got to talk about it.”

“Me too.”

The rest of the night was filled with cooking together and watching a movie, only to be distracted by each other. You had been making out with him for quite some time before you separated from him, yawning and stretching your arms over your head.

“Alright, I’m tired. Wanna sleepover?”

“What happened to taking things slow?” He half-teased.

“Well, I figured since you’ve already slept over here once, it wasn’t anything new. Plus you are so warm and it’s so cold.” You bantered. Changing to a more serious tone, you reiterated- “Only if you want to.” Bucky squinted his eyes as he thought and then mentally shrugged, getting up off of the couch.

“Sure.”

He followed you down the hall. You padded lightly to your room, pulling your hair to the front of your shoulder.

“Do you need clothes?” You asked as you started unzipping the top of the dress. Instinctively Bucky looked aside.

“No, I’m good, thanks.”

You responded “okay” as you stepped into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you to change in privacy. He looked around before unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off, leaving him in a plain white t-shirt. He did the same with his pants before getting in bed on the side you don’t sleep on. Bringing one arm up under the pillow to prop himself up slightly and resting the other on his midsection, he let out a deep breath, getting comfortable. The sheets were extremely soft, and they smelled like you. Hearing the door open, he watched as you came out in a loose long-sleeve t-shirt and soft flannel sleep pants.

“Comfy?” You asked with a smile, hanging up the dress on the door.

“Yeah.”

You got into bed on your usual side and laid on your stomach, propping yourself up on your forearms as you looked down at him. Your hair created a curtain, blocking the light from the lamp and creating your own little bubble.

“Goodnight.”  You smiled at him sleepily.

“Goodnight.”

He kissed you softly before settling back down. You turned off the lamp and scooched up next to him. He sighed in contentment and moved his arm so that he was holding you to him. With your head resting on his shoulder, he fell into the best sleep he had had in years.

---

The next morning, Bucky floated back up to consciousness to what felt like bliss. Stirring awake, he blinked his eyes open to find the source of the comfort- you. You were still asleep, curled up next to him, face against his arm. Carefully, he slid out of the bed so as to not disturb you, and went to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. He breathed in the morning as he looked out at the bare landscape. After experiencing cryofreeze and the depths of Siberia, the cold couldn’t phase him.

What did phase him, was the warmth he experienced with you. His entire life up until this point had been frigid. Losing his family, his friends, his life, his willpower. Everything around him was nothing but cold to the touch. Then, you came in with a burst of red warmth, thawing him out and letting him feel again. Feel something other than pain and confusion, anger and abandonment. The feeling of actually being happy, which was new and overwhelming.

He hadn’t noticed his breath growing heavier. Putting a hand to his chest, he tried to slow his breathing. Being happy also meant that it could now be taken away. He hadn’t had anything to lose in a long, long time.

The creaking of the floorboards caught Bucky’s attention, and he was able to calm himself down with the distraction. He poured another cup of coffee as you walked into the kitchen. Turning around, he saw you stretch your arms above your head before settling down on the barstool at the counter.

“Good morning.” You greeted him with a sleepy smile, slouching over the counter to watch him pour the exact amount of cream and sugar that you liked into the cup.

“Good morning.” He echoed, handing over the mug and leaning against the counter across from you. “I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

“You didn’t. The delicious smell of coffee did.” You took a sip and sighed. “And maybe the cold did too.”

You reached over the counter for his hand. The warmth of his palm brought much needed heat to the tips of your fingers. He squeezed your hand slightly tighter than normal and you thought nothing of it. You lifted the mug to your mouth by one hand and took a longer drink before settling back in your chair. Your unbrushed hair framing your face as the light of the winter morning lit up your eyes.

Bucky’s breath sped up slightly as he looked at you, completely enamored and terrified of the feeling that was swelling in his chest.

[impalas-r-important]

Love of my Life - (1) All's fair in love and snowball fights.

Pairing: Dean x reader(ish)

Warnings: N/A

Summary: You and Dean were inseparable from the moment you met; a true match made in heaven. You were killed in the big showdown with Lucifer and Michael (S5), but were brought back to life along side Sam. Heartbreak quickly took over your life after finding out that Dean had already moved on with Lisa so soon after your death.

Series Masterlist

-------------‐--------------------------------

You sighed as you looked over at Sam and Dean. You and Sam had been doing research for 5 straight days trying to help Bobby out with a case. Dean would come over and help when he could. Sam was in the living room, his nose buried in a book and Dean was sitting with his feet up on the kitchen table, pretending to look studious as he fought off his heavy eye lids. You stood up to stretch your legs and wandered over to the window. It had snowed all night and all morning, leaving the outside world blanketed with pillowy, inviting flakes. The corners of your mouth crept up in a slight smile as an idea came to your mind. You quickly grabbed your jacket that had been slung across the back of your chair which startled Dean enough to wake him up. He sloppily wiped a bit of drool from his mouth and looked over to find an irritated Sam glaring at him. You jogged a few steps to the back door and pulled your boots on.

“Where are you going?” You could hear Sam ask from the other room.

“I’ll be right back!”

You stepped outside and the chilly wind instantly burned the back of your throat, but you didn’t care. You were just happy to not be looking at the worn pages of another lore book. You bent down and scooped the snow together in your hands creating 2 perfect snowballs. A mischievous grin spread on your face as you stomped back into the living room of Bobby’s house. Sam was your first target; he was so unaware of what was about to hit him. Literally. You pulled back your arm, took your aim, and launched the snowball, nailing him square in the face. The shocked look on his face was priceless.

“Hah!” Dean looked up and tauntingly laughed from the table on the other side of the room. His laugh quickly turned into a frown as you threw the second snowball at him. He paused and blinked a few times before wiping the snow from his face. He turned to look at you, and you couldn’t tell if he was angry or not. The three of you exchanged glances, a few seconds of silence passing while you all gauged the situation before Dean stood up giving you a perfect, playful smile.

“Oh, sweetheart, you don’t know what you just started.” He ran at you and you turned to run away, giving a squeal as you did. You were fast, but Dean was faster. You had a few good steps on him, but as you reached the staircase, he grabbed you by your waist, throwing you over his shoulder and marching out the door with you.

“Let me go!” You laughed as he tickled your sides.

“If you say so.” He ran across the yard and gently tossed you into a big snowbank, giving your system a shock. You shot up and tried to shake the snow out from your clothes.

“This means war, Winchester!” You shouted as you ran full speed at Dean, rugby tackling him into the few feet of snow piled up behind him.

Sam popped out from behind an icy car with an armful of huge snowballs. “Gotcha both!” He exclaimed as he pelted the two of you. Dean pulled you underneath him and turned his back to Sam, protecting you. You got lost in his green eyes for a moment as he pulled his face close to yours. “One, two, three!” Dean counted down and you knew exactly what his plan was, without needing to discuss it. The two of you had always been on the same wavelength, making you the perfect hunting (and snowball fight) partners. You both turned and ran at Sam, Dean grabbed your hand tight and extended his arm as the two of you clotheslined the taller brother, knocking him backwards. You stole the few snowballs Sam had dropped and threw them at the two boys.

“I thought we were on a team now?!” Dean grinned at you as he crouched down and began to form the snow in his hands. He cocked his arm back and launched it at you as you ducked behind a car. It just missed you. You sat with your back to the car door, catching your breath and looking on either side of you, waiting for one of the boys to jump out at you.

Dean had climbed on top of the car and jumped down in front of you. “Ha ha! I’ve got you right where I want you!” You laughed and slipped as you tried to get up, causing you to laugh even harder. Dean pulled you backwards by your feet. Kneeling on either side of you, he pinned you down with a snowball in hand. “Do you surrender?!” He demanded.

“Yes, yes fine!” Your stomach hurt from all the laughing. Dean dropped the snowball and huffed. He flopped down in the snow next to you, catching his breath and letting out a little laugh.

“That was the most fun I’ve had in a long time. I mean, the look on Sam’s face when you threw that first snowball at him. Priceless!” He turned to look at you, pulling you close to him. “Thanks, Y/N/N.” It had been so long since you had seen Dean smile a genuine smile like the one he was giving to you now. Your heart fluttered and memories of your relationship came flooding back the minute you looked into his eyes. He looked back at you and for a moment, nothing and no one else existed. This felt so right and so natural, like it had always felt with him when you were together. This was a joy that you rarely felt anymore, and you knew that the only thing bringing it to you was Dean. He brushed a stray hair behind your ear as his eyes wandered down to your lips.

“Dean?” A distant voice called. It was Lisa. You both sat up quickly. Overwhelming happiness quickly turned to heart break.

“Crap!” Dean said under his breath as he checked his watch. “We’re supposed to go to a neighbor’s house for dinner tonight. I should have been home 40 minutes ago. I just lost track of time.” He stood up and brushed the snow from his clothes.

“I’m sorry, this is my fault. I shouldn’t have started that stupid snowball fight.” You apologized.

“No, no I haven’t laughed like that in…” Dean paused, “hell, I don’t know how long. Don’t you dare apologize for that.” He reached out a hand to help you up, but you waved him off.

“I’m okay, you go. It’s probably better if Lisa doesn’t see me. I’ll stay hidden behind this old hunk a’ junk until you guys leave.” You patted the car behind you and tried to muster up a fake smile. Dean didn’t buy it. Lisa hated when your relationship with Dean was brought up, and she equally disliked you being around him.

“Listen, Y/N/N, I- “

“Dean?!” Lisa’s voice interrupted him. She was clearly getting angrier and closer.

Dean opened his mouth as if to say something to you, but instead just exhaled and looked at you with longing eyes. You broke the eye contact after a few seconds and moved your gaze to the ground.

“Bye, Y/N.” Dean muttered. You could hear his footsteps crunch in the snow as he walked away.

“Where the hell were you?!” You could hear Lisa demand in the background.

“Sam and I were just having a snowball fight.” Dean tried to explain himself. You noticed he had left your name out on purpose.

“I swear you two are children when you are around each other.”

You hated the way she talked down to him. Like he was some disobedient puppy on a leash. You heard another set of crunching footsteps approach you. Sam walked around the car and sat down next to you; you leaned your head on his shoulder. Your heavy heart had returned, and you felt empty again.

A few moments passed as you both waited to make sure Dean and Lisa had left. Sam broke the silence once he heard the back door close. “You know, you can talk to me, right Y/N?”

“Yeah, Sammy, thank you.” You looked up and gave him a halfhearted smile.

“No, not like this beat around the bush kind of talking. Like, really telling me how you feel. About Dean, about Lisa, about life. Anything and everything. You can trust me to keep your secrets. I feel like you and I are in the same boat right now. Neither of us expected to die, never mind come back, and it’s hard to see how life, Dean especially, changed while we were gone. I can tell this is all weighing on you. You’re not the same as you used to be.” He arched his neck to look down at you as much as he could. “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t like Lisa. Not at all. I don’t get what Dean sees in her. She has changed him into someone that I barely recognize, and I know you see it too.” Sam let out a small sigh of relief. “Man, I’ve been wanting to get that off my chest for a while.” His demeanor became more serious. “You know, I thought you and Dean would be together forever.”

His words helped you a little. “I thought we would be too. I guess I was just making our relationship out to be more than it really was.” You shrugged.

“What do you mean?” He questioned.

“I hadn’t even been dead for that long and he had already moved in with another woman. I’ve had a lot of time to think about this, and if the situations were reversed, then I would rather live the rest of my life alone than be with someone else if I lost Dean.”

“I don’t have an explanation for that, but I do know that you weren’t making it out to be more than it was. Dean was head over heels in love with you. I knew it from, literally, the moment we met you. And honestly, I think he still is. He just does a good job of hiding it.”

“Everyday hurts, Sam. Every time I have to see him with her.” You whispered. “Lately I’ve been asking myself why I’m still here. I mean, Dean asked us to stick around here and make a home base, but I don’t know if I can do that anymore.”

“You’re thinking about leaving?” He frowned.

“Yeah, maybe... I don’t know.” You traced circles in the snow beneath you. “What good am I doing here? Why do I keep putting myself through this pain? If I left, I could try and move on with my life.”

Sam nodded and waited a few moments before saying, “Well, I can’t stop you from leaving, or tell you how to live your life, but I’m going to miss you like hell if you do go. You’re literally my sister. But I understand where you’re coming from. I miss being out on the road and just living case to case. Domestic life isn’t for me, not right now anyway. But I could never leave Dean here by himself, so I’ll figure out a hybrid of the two.”

You didn’t say anything because you didn’t want to break down in tears. Sam could tell. “Let’s get back inside and change. It’s been a nice to take a break from research. We’ll go grab some hot chocolate and dinner before we dive back into the books. Deal?”

You smiled and nodded at him. Sam helped you up and put his arm around you as you walked back inside. “Sorry I hit you in the face with a snowball… multiple times.” You joked and elbowed his side a little.

“Oh, I’ll get you back for that at some point, don’t you worry. It was just good to see a glimpse of the old you again.” Sam smiled and held the door open for you. It felt good to vent to Sam, and it felt even better knowing that he was on the same page as you about Lisa. You didn’t want to hate her; you weren’t that kind of a person. But you just couldn’t help it.

Chapter 2

[after-avenging-hours]

Out of Time [1]: Steve x Reader

Series Masterlist

Summary:  After Steve gets injected with a mysterious substance during a mission gone wrong, you come to find out that the only thing that can save his life is a pure sample of Dr. Erskine’s Super Soldier Serum. Unwilling to let the love of your life die without a fighting chance, you travel through the quantum realm back to 1943. Equipped with little more than your knowledge of past events, you have to figure out just how exactly you’re going to get your hands on that serum. Not only that, but with the infinity stones no longer protecting the reality you’ve come from, there is now a chance that your presence in the past can change the future you’ll return to. Can you succeed without messing things up? And if things go wrong, can you fix it before it’s too late? Or will you run out of time…

Word Count: 5565

Warnings: Canon typical violence, time travel, injury of major characters

You don’t know how it went so wrong. You’d been on a mission with the team. A few former SHIELD scientists that were suspected to have been working under the influence of Hydra had been spotted in the same vicinity, raising several red flags. After a few days of recon, you’d managed to track down the location of their lab. When the team had busted the door in, ready to take them down, they’d already been expecting you.

The place was full of hired mercenaries and ex-members of the SHIELD Strike team. They’d put up quite a fight. Sam, Clint, and Wanda held down the ground floor while you and Steve had made your way to the upper level. Two agents held you off in close combat while six others took on Steve at the same time. Even six to one, they were having a hard time restraining the Super Soldier, but they managed to keep him pinned just long enough to allow one of the scientists to inject him in the neck with some type of black substance.

“No!” you scream, turning absolutely feral. Throwing caution to the wind, you mercilessly take on the two agents fighting you and they soon end up on the floor.

As Steve falls to his knees, the six other agents grab the scientists and leave out the back door. You rush forward and drop down, skidding across the floor to catch Steve by the shoulders before he can faceplant into the floor.

“Steve!” you call desperately. “Steve, look at me!” Your hands grip his face, trying to guide his eyes to yours, but they’ve turned hazy and unfocused. Perspiration has begun to collect on his brow and the veins at the injection site on his neck have started to turn black.

You lift a hand to activate the commlink in your ear. “Requesting immediate evac. The Captain is down. I repeat, Captain America is down.”

The rest of the team rendezvous to your location and it takes all of you to get Steve out of there and onto the Quinjet. You grab a tablet and bring up the life sign readings programmed into his suit. You watch with dread as his heartbeat wildly fluctuates between too high and too low, while his body temperature continually climbs.

As soon as the jet has landed back at the Avengers base, he’s carted off to the infirmary, where Dr. Banner and Dr. Cho are already waiting for him. You pace up and down the hallway, unable to rest or step away for even a moment to change out of your uniform. Your stomach is tied up in knots and you can’t get the image out of your head on how his face just went completely blank as soon as they had injected him.

You halt your movements and look up when the door opens and Bruce steps out. Seeing Bruce’s face on the Hulk’s massive body was still a little unsettling, but you have started to grow used to it.

“How is he? Is he okay?” you rush out.

Bruce’s poker face is terrible as he pulls off his glasses and fails to meet your gaze. “He’s stable for now… but no, he’s not okay.”

You cup a hand to your mouth and release a pained whimper. “What-” your voice breaks and you have to clear your throat before you can try again. “Do you know what they injected him with?”

“From what we can tell, it seems to be some sort of anti-serum venom. It was made to specifically target the Super Soldier serum enhancement in Steve’s cells.”

You feel the dread sink like a weight in your stomach. “What can we do to stop it?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out. Wanda grabbed the syringe from the Hydra lab, so we have a small sample of the anti-serum for analysis. But without a pure sample of Steve’s Super Soldier serum, it could take months to synthesize a cure. And he doesn’t have that long.”

The lump in your throat grows and it becomes difficult to swallow. “How long does he have?” you almost don’t want to ask.

You see the answer in his eyes. “This anti-serum… it’s aggressive-”

“Bruce,” you cut him off, urgency in your gaze. “How long?”

“A few days… maybe a week.”

Your whole body blanches and you stumble a few steps until your back hits the wall. The thought alone was inconceivable. Steve… Your Steve… Gone in less than a week? Haven’t you both been through enough? You shake your head fervently, straightening your spine and pushing off the wall. “No,” you deny, allowing your anger and frustration to bolster your strength.

“Hey…” Bruce attempts to reach out to you.

“No!” you coil back. “No, I won’t let that happen.”

“We will do everything we can, but without the original serum-”

“Then I’ll get it for you,” you state with finality to your tone, a plan already forming in your mind.

Bruce looks at you, perplexed. “How?”

Instead of responding, you turn on your heel and march down the hallway. Pulling out your phone, you bring up your contacts and dial the number you need. You’re talking as soon as the line picks up. “Hey Scott, remember that favor you owe me?”

--

It takes a full day of preparation before things are ready. You grow even more anxious with every minute that passes. Every single tick of the clock is one less second Steve has to live.

Seeing him in the infirmary had nearly broken you. Dr. Banner and Dr. Cho were keeping him sedated to help slow the spread of the anti-serum, but the damage was already beginning to take its toll. It was working its way through his body like a poison, starting in the bloodstream, but if left untreated, his organs would begin to fail systematically. Normally, Steve’s Super Soldier serum would help defend his body from something like this, allowing him to metabolize it out before it could do any harm. But, somehow those Hydra scientists found a way to target the original serum first, to weaken his body’s defenses and let the venom take over. It must have taken them years of research to develop something like this and you only had days to reverse it.

You had never seen the Super Soldier look so weak and sickly. He had lost all color, his skin pale and beginning to verge into an ashen grey. He looked thinner like he had been bedridden for weeks, not just a day. His cheeks were gaunt and dark bags had appeared beneath his eyes. When you reached out to touch his hand, it was deathly cold and your heart had skipped a beat. You didn’t understand how this could be happening so fast to the strongest man you had ever known.

You’d pushed the hair off his forehead; no longer a shiny blonde, but more of a dull straw color; and pressed your lips to his skin. “You’ve come to my rescue so many times, Steve. It’s time for me to return the favor. Please, hold on, just a little longer, until I get back.” You then place a gentle kiss to his lips, a single tear dropping from your eye and landing on his cheek. You wipe at the wet trail with your thumb before you step back and release a shaking breath. “I will make it back,” you promise both to him and to yourself.

--

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come?” Bucky asks, helping you in to your quantum suit.

It’s good that most of his memories were back. He was your best source of information for getting the correct dates, times, and places so you could successfully accomplish your task. Not only that, but you had needed a quick and dirty rundown on etiquette, behavior, and style for the time period. It felt like you had enough bobby pins and hair spray to keep your hair as still as a plastic doll. Not to mention the signature red painting your lips.

“You can’t,” Bruce speaks up from where he stands behind the console for the platform. “The infinity stones were the only thing holding our reality together when we time traveled the last time. Those stones no longer exist in this reality. Since she isn’t coming back with them either, there may be repercussions from this. She should go alone because she doesn’t already exist in that timeline.”

“I’ll be okay, Bucky,” you give him a tentative smile, unsure if you’re telling the truth.

Based on the look in his eyes, you know he’s reading you easily. He gives your arm a squeeze in reassurance. “Stay out of trouble. The punk will kill me if anything happens to you.”

You nod and begin to step away, heading for the platform. You shift on your feet, mentally psyching yourself up for the journey. You release a long breath before signaling to Bruce that you’re ready. You meet Bucky’s gaze one last time. “Be right back,” you tell him before your helmet pops into place and you’re flying through the quantum realm.

--

You land in 1943 without much fuss, quickly dissolving out of your quantum suit before anyone catches you in the empty alleyway. You fix any flyaway hairs and straighten your outfit and then walk out onto the main street. It’s a bit of a trip, seeing all the old-fashioned cars driving past and the dated outfits and hairstyles that everyone wears. The movies and pictures that you’ve grown up seeing don’t quite do it justice. However, it does remind you of the sketches Steve sometimes shared with you whenever he was feeling nostalgic.

You give yourself a second to marvel at everything, but the thought of Steve helps to sharpen your focus and bring yourself back on track. You step onto the sidewalk, behind a group of young school children with their mothers in tow. Walking passed a newspaper stand; you take a quick glance at the paper to make sure you’ve landed at the correct time. Monday, June 7th, 1943.

Breathing a breath of relief, you move to the edge of the sidewalk and hail a taxi. Soft, jazzy notes fill the air of the car from the radio, helping to ease the tension in your shoulders. The song is also familiar to you, because of Steve. You give the driver the address to your destination and soon find yourself pulling up in front of Brooklyn Antiques. You pay for the taxi with a set of vintage coins you’d been able to acquire before leaving your time. You shuffle out of the taxi and head into the shop.

The bell above the door dings and you enter the space. An older woman in a soft pink sweater steps out from the backroom to greet you. “Did you hear the ball game last night?”

Your mind races as you try to recall the answer to the code that Bucky had told you about. They would change them daily and randomly rotate through a long list of them. “Yes, but I only wish I had some Cracker Jacks,” you respond.

She nods once before moving behind the cashier desk and presses the secret button beneath. You try to steady your pounding heart as you walk to the back room and stand in front of the bookshelves. After a moment, the shelves begin to move to reveal a set of hidden doors. You roll your shoulders back and walk with confidence into the hidden laboratory.

The energy in this place buzzes like a beehive. The tan military uniform you wear allows you to blend with everyone else. People give you a casual side glance before turning back to what they had previously been doing. As you walk down the hallway toward the main room, the sound of raised voices grabs your attention.

“You’ve had more than enough test runs! Stark’s machine works. Your formula is ready for development. All that’s left is the man.”

Looking to your left, you see that it’s Colonel Phillips and Dr. Erskine that are arguing inside the observation room. Dr. Erskine shakes his head, with an exasperated look on his face. “But it can’t be just any man, it has to be the right man!”

“We’ve been at this for months! Week after week, we run training exercises on a new group at Camp Lehigh, and you’ve denied every single one! Do you realize how much money this has cost us? We have to pay the scouts that send men our way. Gotta pay the buses that bring ‘em to the camp. Lodging, food, uniforms, supplies. Enough is enough. You have one week to find your man for the next round of recruitments. If you can’t find him. Then you’ll have to pick from the rest of the selection. We cannot afford to wait any longer.”

With the final word, Colonel Phillips turns and walks out of the observation room. You make sure to step back and out of his way, ducking your head slightly, so as not to draw attention to yourself. You look back up when you hear Dr. Erskine give a long drawn out sigh. He has removed his glasses and rubs at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

You find yourself moving forward and into the room. “Is everything all right, Doctor?” you question with a gentle voice.

He moves his glasses back into place and meets your gaze. “Not quite.” He admits, his accent a little thicker with stress in his voice. “Unless you have an idea on where we might be able to find someone actually worthy of this project.”

Your lips part as you try to come up with a response to that. “Well… Um. I’m sure the World Expo will bring all sorts of new faces in.” You cringe inwardly a little, thinking that may have been too obvious. Bruce’s words of warning echo in your ears. Get in, get out, don’t change the timeline.

Erskine’s eyes light up at that prospect. “The World Exposition? Of course. That is a wonderful idea. Stark mentioned that there was a recruitment center there. Come, let’s go take a look.”

He begins to head for the doorway and gestures for you to step through first. You hesitate. “You want me to come with you?”

He smiles kindly. “Well, it was your idea, was it not?”

So much for 'get in and get out'. Although, this could be a good thing. After all, Erskine was your ticket to the serum. Another second passes, and then you begin to move out of the observation room. You look down at the machine in the main room, knowing that one day soon, it will be used to create a Super Soldier. Erskine follows you out before taking the lead and moving toward the exit. He pulls off his lab coat and stops at a coat rack off to the side. He swaps the lab coat for a beige trench coat and his fedora.

The MP sitting at the desk right next to the secret entrance hits the button to allow you both to exit. Erskine leads you out of the antique shop and over to one of the vehicles parked nearby. The driver is already sitting in the front seat. Erskine opens the back door and gestures once more for you to enter first. You give him your thanks as you sink into the leather seat, then push over to the other side to make room for him to follow you.

Dr. Erskine gives his instructions to the driver to take you to the Expo.

You relax your posture into the cushioned seat and watch 1943 New York pass by the window.

“So, you are new,” Dr. Erskine states casually, also looking out through the window on his side of the car.

Your shoulders stiffen and your heart stops. “I…” you begin to protest before changing tactics. You laugh nervously and glance over at him. “Is it that obvious?”

He continues to look out his window as he responds. “In all the months we have been working on this project, no one has ever asked me how I am doing.” He turns away from the window then and meets your gaze.

Your own gaze softens with sincerity. “That sounds lonely.”

He tilts his head and lifts his shoulders in a slight shrug. “This is the bed that I have made. Great things can happen if my serum is used properly, but many terrible things have already come to pass.”

You know that he is talking about Red Skull. “We will find the man you need, Doctor,” you assure him.

He looks at you curiously. “How is it you sound so sure of that?”

You swallow and try not to look like a deer caught in a headlight. “I have faith,” you manage to get out.

He cracks a small smile. “Faith,” he repeats, before he releases a low chuckle. “I’m afraid as a scientist, I may need a little more than that.”

You find yourself smiling back. “Then perhaps I can try to muster enough faith for the both of us.”

“That would be appreciated,” he responds right as the car pulls to a stop. He steps out of the vehicle first before turning and reaching to take your hand to help you to your feet.

“Oh wow…” you marvel as you take in the sights of the Expo before you.

The giant metal sculpture of the globe looms over everything, casting its shadow over the crowds as people hurry passed in excited groups, eager to see the exhibits. A monorail train curls around the globe and zooms past in a rush of metallic sound.

“You have not yet seen the Exposition?” Dr. Erskine asks curiously.

You find it difficult to pull your eyes away from the sights. “I haven’t had the time,” you speak honestly.

“I heard that several of the soldiers were planning to take the other women to Stark’s show this weekend. I’m sure you could join them.” He speaks casually as he begins to head for the recruitment station.

“Those men don’t interest me.” You follow behind, looking around as you do.

Dr. Erskine grins to himself. “Fair enough.”

The two of you continue on your way. Before you can make it inside the building, though, a voice calls out “Dr. Erskine!”

A man in an expensive-looking suit walks up to you both. He has dark hair, a thin mustache, and a dashing smile. A smile with confidence that you recognize.

“Mr. Stark,” the Doctor greets, shaking his hand.

“What brings you all the way out here? I thought you never left your lab, save for heading out to Camp Lehigh. And who is this?” Howard’s eyes trace down the length of your body, an appreciation settling into his features.

You raise a brow, barely able to contain your amusement between this Stark and the one you’ve known. “She’s not interested,” you reply bluntly.

Erskine laughs while Stark’s lips part in momentary shock. With a shake of his head, he shrugs off the rejection and his lips return to a charming grin. “Where are you and Phillips finding these girls? First Agent Carter, now this one?”

“You were commissioned for the head on your shoulders, Mr. Stark. The females working on this project should be of no concern to you.” The somewhat harsh blow of Erskine’s words is softened by the smile of amusement on his face.

Howard doesn’t take it to heart, laughing as well. “I understand. Well, can I at least show you both around?”

“We are actually here to observe the recruitment station. The Colonel has given us a week to find our man. We were hoping the selection here might provide something new.”

“Ah,” Howard remarks. “Well then, I won’t keep you. Feel free to stop by the Modern Marvel’s Pavilion. Perhaps we can all grab lunch.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stark,” Erskine neither confirms nor denies the invitation and ushers you into the recruitment center.

“He’s certainly a handful,” you comment, no longer able to hold your amusement.

Erskine releases a long sigh. “Sometimes it is a wonder that he can get anything accomplished. His mind is brilliant, but he can be easily distracted. Though, I am starting to wonder… if not even the great Howard Stark can hold your interest, I am fascinated to find out the man that will.”

You can’t help but laugh at that. “Maybe you will meet him one day.”

Dr. Erskine speaks with the head physician of the recruitment office, establishing a protocol for directing prospective enlisters his way for additional questioning. He then gives you instructions on the qualities he is looking for, so you can also help to keep an eye out with him.

You spend the day interviewing enlisters. You pretend to be invested, but know that none of them are going to be the correct one. Steve isn’t supposed to show up to this recruitment center until this weekend after Stark’s big show. You had planned to drop into the timeline several days before his recruitment, in case you needed the extra time to get your hands on a sample of serum. Your first day wasn’t quite going as expected, but it could be worse.

Erskine comes to collect you at the end of the day to see how your interviews have been going. When he offers for you to join him for dinner, you readily agree, only then realizing how hungry you are. The two of you walk away from the crowds of the Expo and back into the city.

You find a small family-owned diner to grab a quick bite to eat. Getting seated at a booth near the windows, you watch the people pass by while you wait for your food to come.

“My apologies for taking so long to ask, but I have come to realize that I do not know your name,” Dr. Erskine pulls your attention back to him.

“Oh,” you start. Realizing that you also had never introduced yourself. “Well, my friends call me Vic.”

“Friends?” he repeats with a raised brow.

You realize your mistake a little too late. As the head scientist of the SSR, he was technically considered your superior. It’s been so long since you’ve worked with a superior that wasn’t your friend. Also, with one that you weren’t sleeping with…

You clear your throat and try again. “What I mean is that I haven’t really gone by my given name in a long time. It almost feels foreign whenever I do hear it.”

Erskine looks at you curiously. “And this Vic name was given to you by your friends?”

“Yes,” you confirm, before growing a little shy. “It’s actually short for Lady Victory,” you explain, your face heating in embarrassment. You’ve never actually had to be the one explaining it to anyone.

“Lady Victory?” he repeats, both brows now raised in intrigue. “And how did you manage to earn that name?”

“Well,” you laugh lightly. “It started after a few successful rounds of poker.” That makes Erskine laugh as well. “But, once I started working in the field, the name stuck. I became a lucky charm of sorts. Everyone would say that there was no way we could fail as long as Lady Victory was on our side. And that held true, at least until…” Your voice falls away and your eyes grow hollow. At least until the last mission.

“You have been to the war front?”

You pull yourself out of your dark thoughts and focus back on the doctor. “No. Not this war, at least. But I have seen war. Up close. It’s never easy.”

Erskine nods in agreement. He sits quietly for a moment, considering your words. “Have you considered submitting yourself as a candidate for Project Rebirth?”

You had reached for your glass of water and taken a sip when he asked his question. You choke upon swallowing the drink. So much for not screwing up the timeline. You’re pretty sure this conversation was never supposed to happen. You set your glass back down and attempt to cough the water out from where it’s trying to reach your lungs.

“I am sorry, I did not mean to startle you. But I must admit, you do have several of the qualities I am looking for in a candidate.”

After you’ve managed to catch your breath, you try to figure out the best way out of this. “The offer is generous, but that’s not my destiny.”

“What happened to faith?” Dr. Erskine smiles cryptically.

“I have faith that we will find the right person. But I know that isn’t me.” You release a breath of relief when the waitress arrives with the food. “Besides, can you imagine the Colonel’s reaction if you were to tell him you had picked a woman for the project?”

Erskine shrugs his shoulder. “He has been making his threats for months, but he knows that I will not make the serum until we have a candidate that I approve of.”

You can actually hear the record scratch sound effect going off in your mind. “Wait, I thought the Colonel said your formula was ready.”

“The formula, yes. I have all the ingredients ready. But the serum itself must be used within hours of preparation or the components will begin to degrade. It is a side effect from some of the ingredients used, but also works as a failsafe, should anyone think that they could steal it.”

You try to keep your face neutral, but internally your heart is sinking. This means that you coming early was a wasted effort and your only shot at getting a sample of the serum would be the day they turn Steve into a Super Soldier. And not only that but if you did manage to get your hands on a sample, it could degrade before being of any use to Dr. Banner.

In an effort to keep the despair off your face, you steer the conversation away and start to dig into the food that you no longer feel hungry for. Dr. Erskine turns out to be fairly good company and enjoys regaling you with tales of his home in Germany. It helps to keep him talking, so you can mentally plan just how you’re going to make it through these next few weeks, stuck in 1943.

Erskine offers to cover the cost of dinner, which you agree to, but only if he will let you pay for the next meal. He seems caught off guard by your proposal but then agrees with a quiet chuckle. As you prepare to leave, he places his fedora back onto his head and folds his coat over his arm. He then holds the door open as you exit the diner.

You both walk down the sidewalk in the direction toward the expo, occasionally needing to move behind one another to make room for people heading in the other direction. A flash of movement catches your attention from across the street. You narrow your gaze at the two men walking in the same direction as you and Erskine. They are both wearing fairly nondescript outfits in dark, neutral tones. Also wearing fedoras that they use to shadow their eyes. You notice one has a camera in his hands.

You quicken your steps to match up with the doctor, then wrap your arm through his. He looks down at you slightly startled, but you don’t pay him any mind. “Darling, that dress is lovely. Why don’t we take a look inside?” You point toward the display of a boutique and quickly usher him into the shop.

“Miss Vic, we really should be heading back to the recruitment center,” Dr. Erskine begins to protest.

You hush him and pull him deeper into the shop. “We were being followed. I noticed those two men loitering outside the bar across the street when we were at the diner. They stayed the whole time and didn’t begin to move until we did.”

“Are you certain?” he questions, looking back, but you’ve already pulled him too far into the shop.

“I am. One of them pulled out a camera and was trying to take pictures of you.”

“Hello, how can I help you?” the shop attendant takes that moment to make herself known.

You put a sweet smile into your face. “Oh, I’m sorry. Do you have a back door? It seems we’ve gotten a little turned around and we’re actually supposed to be on the next street over.”

The woman looks at you curiously, “Oh, we do, but it leads to a back alley, not the main street.”

“That’s all right. I’m sure we’ll find our way. Thank you!” Before she can come up with a response, you’re pulling Erskine after you and out the back. You check to make sure the coast is clear, before dragging him out. You run as fast as you can in your heels down the back alley toward the next street. You stop just short of the alley opening and press your back into the brick wall. Peaking around the corner, you find that the men aren’t anywhere to be seen.

You step out with Erskine and quickly hail a taxi. Not conforming to societal rules, you yank open the back door and shove him into the seat. “Don’t head directly for the expo. Drive aimlessly first, check for any tails. If you don’t see any, stop and switch to a new taxi before heading back.”

“What are you going to do?” he questions, still thrown off by what’s happening.

“I’m going to make sure they won’t follow you.”

You quickly shut the door to the cab and bang on the top to send it off. You then duck back into the alley. You’re almost to the back entrance of the boutique when the two men come stumbling out.

“You boys lost?” you question with an innocent tone to your voice. The two take one look at you before looking around for your charge. “I’m afraid it’s just the three of us.”

“We ain’t got no beef with you, Toots,” one of the men states in a heavy Brooklyn accent.

Your innocent façade drops instantly. Darting forward, you grab the man by the lapel of his coat. You use his surprise against him to swing his whole body around and slam his back into the brick wall. Your movement knocks the wind out of him and you quickly pin your forearm to the base of his neck to keep him from being able to regain his breath. “Who you callin’ Toots?” you question with a deadly tone in your voice.

“Geez, lady!” The man chokes out, raising his hands in surrender.

“Back up, if you don’t want to get hurt!”

You look over your shoulder to find the other one has a pistol aimed at you. Rolling your eyes, you release the first one and step back, your own hands now up in surrender. In a flash, you whip your arm out, grasping the gun and kick your foot out, straight into his knee. His leg buckles from beneath him and he loosens his hold on the gun as he falls.

You take the weapon into your own hands, holding it over him, while he kneels at your feet. “I think you’ll find that it’s actually you who should be worried about getting hurt, Toots,” you tell him, sarcasm dripping from your tone.

You catch the movement of the man’s eyes and turn back toward his partner, just a moment too late. The sound of a gun firing echoes down the alley moments before pain explodes in your side.

You cry out, barely managing to keep your grip on your own gun as you stumble into the brick wall.

“You shot her?!” the one kneeling bellows.

“She had a gun to your head!” The other argues.

“Red Skull’s gonna kill us if he finds out we were caught!”

“Not if we finish her off,” the one that shot you once begins to turn.

Your hand shakes as you try to raise your gun back up to defend yourself.

“Hey! Get away from her!” A new voice enters the fray.

The two men look to see someone else running into the alley. They are coming from your back and you fear if you attempt to look at who it is, you might pass out from the pain.

“Let’s get out of here,” the one that shot you tucks his gun away and helps pull the other to their feet. They take off before the newcomer can reach them.

“Miss, are you alright?”

This gunshot wound must be affecting you more than you thought because you could swear their voice sounds like-

Gentle hands grasp your shoulders as you stumble. You lift your head to meet a worried gaze. Soft blue eyes, framed by thick lashes, and two furrowed brows. It’s a look you’re all too familiar with and it always makes your heart clench.

Seeing it this time also makes your head swoon and your stomach flip. “Steve?” you barely manage to get out before your legs collapse.

Part 2

[aaron-despair]

Not your fault (Wanda Maximoff x Reader)

A/N: I don’t own any of the characters in this fic, they belong to Marvel.

Warnings: none, maybe a bit angst? (This is a long fic, btw. Got a bit carried away...)

Summary: When things start to go a bit intimate between you and Wanda, a little accident makes Wanda realise how much you care for her and that there’s nothing that could separate you both.

“Really?”

“Yeah! Sam and Clint still owe me ten bucks for that bet, actually!” You said and Wanda started laughing again. You both were sitting on her bed enjoying the free time that both you and the whole team rarely got.

You two had started dating recently and agreed on taking things slow, seeing as this was something new to both of you. So here you were, talking about everything that came into mind and relaxing.

“You’ve been asking me for some time now, I think it’s my turn. Is there any topic you’re uncomfortable with?” You asked softly.

“No, don’t worry. What do you want to know?” Wanda moved closer to you, with her head leaning on your shoulder, as she waited for you to continue.

“If it’s okay, since Hydra took away part of your childhood, tell me something you’d want to do. You know, things you missed because of the experiments.” You said, running your fingers through her hair. “After the last mission we have some days to relax, so I thought about taking you out on a date.”

“You’re sweet.” She whispered, snuggling closer to you. You smiled, before giving her a kiss on the forehead.

“And who made me soft?” You replied, and Wanda laughed again, nuzzling into your neck. “Tired?”

“A bit.” She answered, trying to stiffle a yawn. “About that date, do you mind if I think about it? There’s so much that I’d like to do with you...” Wanda looked up at you, and you smiled again.

“Of course, sweetheart. I won’t force you into anything, you know that.” You murmured to her, leaning back so you two could lay on the bed.

“I know. For now, though, I’d like to cuddle with you. Would you stay?” She pleaded, giving you her best doe eyes that she knew you couldn't resist.

“Anything for you, my little witch.” You teased, and you both laughed.

“Goodnight, (Y/N/N).” Wanda mumbled in a sleepy tone.

“Night, honey. Sweet dreams.” You kissed her forehead one last time, before covering both of you with the blankets and drifting off to sleep.

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

“You sure this is all you want?” You asked Wanda, looking over at her. 

“Shhh. Can’t you just enjoy it with me, love?” She scolded you with an amused smile, lightly punching your shoulder and squeezing your hand after.

“Sorry, I just want to make sure you enjoy your day.” You responded, also  smiling at her and pecking her cheek.

You were currently taking a walk through the forest near the compound. Before that, you took Wanda to an amusement park and, since it was still a bit early, you two decided to go for a walk.

“It’s getting cold, should we go back? We can watch a movie in my room, if you want.” You ask, wrapping an arm around Wanda’s shoulders and she nodded, snuggling closer into you.

You both entered the compound and walked into the elevator, pressing the button to your floor. When you stepped out of the elevator, Wanda stopped you, making you face her. You stood there, (e/c) orbs locking into blue ones, seeing nothing but love and adoration in them for each other.

“You’re beautiful.” She whispered, resting her hands on your shoulders.

“So are you.” You replied, the same tenderness as her in your voice, and Wanda couldn’t help but blush. You tucked a strand of her long hair behind her ear, placing your hand on her cheek after.

“(Y/N)...” Wanda trailed off. She moved closer, until you could feel each others breath on your faces. Her arms found their way around your neck, pulling you even closer, and her lips met yours. It was incredibly sweet and loving, so much that you could feel your heart melting.

While you moved your arms to circle her waist, her hands ran through your hair. Neither of you wanted to stop, the feeling completely intoxicating. Soon after, you felt a tickling sensation on your neck, and before you knew it, you were flying across the room only to stop when you reached the wall.

“Oh my god! (Y/N/N)! Are you okay!?” Wanda was immediately by your side, but she didn’t touch you. She didn’t want to hurt you again. “I-I’m so sorry, I...”

“Hey, it’s okay.” You reached for her hands, which still were surrounded by the red mist of her powers, but she pulled away from you. “Wanda?”

“I-I’m sorry...” She stood up and left you, running along the hallway until she reached her room.

You didn’t follow her. You knew she needed time for herself when something like this happened, but you still worried for her. You lifted yourself up, wincing slightly at the faint pain from the impact, and left to your room, planning on talking to her first thing in the morning.

The next day, you noticed Wanda didn’t show up for breakfast with the team, so you went to her room and knocked lightly on her door. Silence was all you got for an answer and you knocked again.

“Wanda?”

“(Y/N), please, go away.” She answered, and you noticed her voiced sounded a little broken.

“Wanda, don’t shut me out.” You leaned your forehead against the door, hoping she would listen, but she didn’t even answer you. Sighing, you backed away before saying, “If you want to talk, you know where to find me. Just don’t blame yourself.” You turned to leave, but just then she opened the door.

“Don’t blame myself?! (Y/N), I threw you like a rag doll against the wall! If this is what happens just by kissing you, then I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep hurting you.” Wanda argued. Her eyes were red and puffy, so you knew she had been crying. Your heart broke at seeing her suffering like this.

You led her into her room again, without touching her in case she flinched away, and went in with her. She started pacing around her room. You came up to her, and placed your hands lightly on her shoulders, making sure to stop her but allowing her to pull away if she wanted.

“Hey, just listen to me, okay? It wasn’t your fault. You’re still learning. Things like this could always happen, I knew that and it didn’t matter to me.” She opened her mouth, but before she could interrupt you placed a finger against her lips. “Please, let me finish. Alright?” Wanda nodded and you both sat on her bed. “I don’t care if something like this happens again. I’ll come back to you every time it does, and you know why? Because I love you. I love you with my heart and soul. You’ll learn to control your powers, so don’t beat yourself up, okay? It hurts me seeing you in pain and I know you’ve been suffering because of this.” You told her passionately. When you finished your speech Wanda was crying again, but this time for a whole different reason. She launched herself at your open arms, sobbing on your chest.

“I love you too. So much. I’m so sorry, (Y/N/N). I just- I-”

“Shhh. It’s okay.” You soothed her. She wrapped her arms tighter around you, and you just held her. That’s what she needed right now and you were okay with it.

After some minutes she finally calmed down and you two were still there, snuggled impossibly closer. You pulled away from her just enough to look into her eyes. “Can I ask you a little favor?” You murmured, and Wanda nodded, waiting for you to continue. “Can you use your powers for a sec?”

A flash of panic crossed her blue eyes for a moment, but you sent her a reassuring smile. “Please, Wanda, just trust me. It’s okay.”

She nodded, summoning the red mist around her hand. You cautiously took her hand in yours, lacing your fingers together. You could feel her tensing immediately, but you pulled her closer, hands still intertwined. “You’re not gonna hurt me, sweetheart. Everything’s alright.” 

She relaxed against you, head resting on your shoulder, as she watched how you played with her fingers. In a sudden surge of confidence, she let her magic flow a bit more freely, crawling up your arm carefully. When she felt your silent chuckle, an idea popped into her head. She looked up at you. “It tickles, doesn’t it?” She asked innocently.

“Yeah, it does. It feels nice.” You answered, and then you noticed the mischievous glint in her beautiful blue orbs. “No, don’t you dare-”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before you were pinned to the bed, red mist carefully surrounding your whole body.

“NO! WANDA STOHOHOP!” You shrieked between laughter and Wanda soon couldn’t help but join you, doubling over and falling beside you, both of you laughing hard. “I thought you were scared of hurting me.” You panted, jokingly scolding her.

“You showed me otherwise.” She whispered lovingly, looking at you before cuddling into you, listening to your beating heart. “Will you stay with me tonight?”

“Of course, love. Always. Now, wanna go watch a movie with me?” You replied, and you swore the smile she gave you could light up the entire world.

[bitsandbobsandstuff]

Black lace and property damage

Summary: With your messy work hours, Bucky’s consistently inconsistent mission schedule, and those basic life tasks you’re both ignoring (when was the last time he actually bought a new toothbrush?), the simple act of just being together has been shunted to the side. Bucky’s officially starting to panic.  

Characters: Bucky x Reader Warnings: SMUT, 18+. Sweet sex, awkward sex, some dirty sex, some sex on a car. Basically sex. Swearing. Bucky wearing a white t-shirt and dog tags. My sketchy automotive knowledge.

A/N: This story is sort of an ode to anyone struggling to make time for your person. Life gets busy, so don’t be afraid to get creative. Also sometimes sex goes smooth and perfect, but often it comes with mishaps and giggles. Both ways are great, Bucky says just roll with it!

Want to find all my stories? Search #bitsmasterlist or try the link in my bio!

*****

The porch light above the front door is out.

Was he supposed to change that before he left?

--

“I’m not touching it Bucky, there are spiders up there. Big ones. The kind that give you rabies.”

“Spiders don’t have rabies.”

“No one’s ever proven that.”

--

Dammit. Yeah, he was.

Picturing you stumbling up the porch, using the pathetic flashlight on your phone to light the way, Bucky feels like a world class, Grade A jackass. He needs to make it up to you.

Good thing he has plenty of ideas for that.

“Please be home,” he mutters, “please be home, please dear god be fucking home.”

Fingers crossed, he kicks the door open and calls out a hopeful hello.

An empty echo returns.

Bucky blows out a frustrated breath.

Figures.

Slogging down the dark hallway, he slings his bag on the kitchen table with a thud. Grenade pins, bullet casings, fun size candy bar wrappers, and handfuls of beer bottle caps rattle loose in the army green canvas and he grimaces.

One of these days, maybe, just fucking maybe, he’ll convince Natasha to stop using his bags as her garbage bin.

Ignoring that disaster zone (a problem for future Bucky), he wanders over to the sink, where he spies a small tableau on the counter. Propped up beside his favorite coffee mug, the one with sparkly pink letters proclaiming “Bitch, I’m Fabulous”, is a folded piece of paper, his name scrawled across the front.

He flips it open.

“Hey Bucky Bear. Don’t let your sexy ass fall asleep before I get home, I have a surprise!”

Drawn under your bubbly letters, he finds two stick figures entangled in an outrageously lewd sex act. Tracing tender fingers over the very obviously male stick figure (you never were very subtle), he grins so hard his cheeks ache. Leaning on the counter, he sniffs the letter because he’s a sentimental sap and it smells like your Cherry-Almond lotion, and drops his head in his arms.

“So tired,” he whines softly, voice muffled against sleek granite.

Three weeks. That was the last mission. Three weeks, even though Steve guaranteed Bucky three days max. Of course, two days into the mission Bucky remembered that Steve Rogers is an accomplished liar, so instead he spent three exhausting weeks dodging bullets, rewashing all his underwear, and hysterically rationing his bag of fun size candy bars.

Finally home, he wants to forget everything and sink into the post-mission domesticity he dreams about when he’s stuck in some dank motel on the corner of Fuck This and No One Cares. The routine is simple. A scalding hot shower, burrito wrapping himself in the feather duvet, making out with you for a few hours, taking a break to eat some pizza, and then fucking you so hard he breaks the brand new headboard he made for you last month (actually the third headboard he’s made...a fact he smugly reports to anyone and everyone).

And after all that fun, he wants to sleep. Maybe two full days. Or five. Tops.

Is that asking too much?

“No,” he sighs out loud. “It’s not.”

Carefully folding the cartoon and your sweet message, he kisses the paper and tucks it in his back pocket.

No way he’s falling asleep before he sees you. Nope. Nada. Negative. Totally not happening.

Pepping himself up, he goes to work, whizzing through his homecoming task list.

Blood-stained tac clothes go in the washer with three cups of bleach. Guns and knives are wiped down and polished. The contents of the dirty green canvas bag are unceremoniously trashed. The spider infested porch light is changed (with only three furry sightings). The shower is set to a blistering temp and he hangs out in there for an hour, soaping his hair into a foamy mohawk, belting out a few showtunes with his shampoo bottle microphone.

Scrubbed fresh and clean, he flops on the bed with his Starkpad and opens up Netflix, searching for something to keep him awake. Several scrolls later, he finds Brooklyn 99 and settles in for a laugh.

Confident in his ability to resist the appealing pull of sleep scratching at his brain, he takes a slurp of the Super Double Big Gulp sized coffee on his nightstand and stretches his eyes wide open.

Staying awake. Piece of cake.

Ten minutes later, Bucky’s fast asleep.

*****

When his eyes pop open, the room is dark. He feels tipsy, sleep drunk on his first uninterrupted hours of rest in weeks.

Beside him, he feels the cozy pressure of another body. Glancing down, he finds you curled under the sheets at his side, your face smushed against his arm, steady breaths fogging the gleaming metal.

Asleep.

Bucky grits his teeth. Squeezes his eyes shut. One thing. You asked him to do one thing.

God. Dammit.

Furious with his lame old man ass, he almost wakes you up. Almost. But then he swallows that desire and thinks.

Before he got married, Bucky read every relationship advice book under the sun. He gets the importance of keeping the romance alive. He knows you need to cherish your person, make them a priority, shower them with love. He knows. He gets it. He watches Oprah, for fuck’s sake. Relationships take work.

But lately? This is life.

With your messy work hours, Bucky’s consistently inconsistent mission schedule, and those basic life tasks you’re both ignoring (when was the last time he actually bought a new toothbrush?), the simple act of just being together has been shunted to the side.

Bucky’s officially starting to panic.

Although, he muses, eyes lingering on the innocent curve of your mouth, the chaos has forced both of you to get more…creative.

He grins.

It was you who instigated it the first time. He was lying in a dingy motel bed when you nervously offered.

--

“Hey, um…do think maybe you’d…like…would you…uh…”

“Spit it out babe.”

“Doyouwannatryphonesex?”

--

An anxious slur so fast, he nearly misses the question. He remembers that beat of hesitation, before you dove in headfirst, telling him in obscenely explicit detail exactly what you wanted to do to him. He was so shocked he dropped the phone and had to naked crawl under the grimy mattress to fish it out.

He must’ve jerked off five times that night. Replaying your filthy words. Remembering the quiet whimpers as you came on your fingers, gasping out his name. What a treat.

Sexting soon followed, accompanied by a plethora of nudes. None from you of course, because as you always remind him, you’re a lady, but Bucky? He gets irrational joy from sending them. They come in a variety of close-ups and poses, several which Sam accidentally discovered when he walked in on Bucky prancing around naked, searching for his best angle.

Sam always knocks now.

But sometimes words and pictures aren’t enough. Sometimes you need the soothing weight of someone in your arms. The scent of sweaty skin beneath your nose. Hot breaths of pleasure in your ear and the touch of a cool tongue licking across a heated body.

Sometimes he just needs you.

Could he wake you up? Sure. He knows you wouldn’t mind, you’ve told him a thousand times. But he also knows how tired you’ve been, and he can’t bring himself to shake you awake, selfishly stealing those bits of recovery you need.

So instead, he searches for something to keep him occupied.

He tries reading Game of Thrones again and gets nowhere. Thinks yet again someone needs to get George R.R. Martin an editor.

He flicks on his phone and covertly watches PornHub on mute. Seriously debates whether he can get away with jerking off while you’re sleeping because hey, Bucky Barnes is nothing if not stealthy.

He stares up at the ceiling and tries to see how long he can hold his breath. He gets 2 minutes and 8 seconds (a new record) before giving up.

In the end, he rolls onto his side stares intently at you. Wills you to wake up on your own. Come on baby, please.

But nothing works, and when sleep still doesn’t come, he decides to be productive. Crawling carefully from the bed, he smothers a laugh when you curl instantly into the warm mattress dip of his body, burrowing further under the blankets and unconsciously stealing his pillow. Most mornings Bucky wakes up hanging off the bed, no blankets or pillows to his name, while you’re swathed in comfort, cold toes shoved beneath his belly.

Maybe he should be annoyed. Except every time he looks at you, he forgets how to scowl.

Love is weird.

Rummaging silently through the closet, he unearths a threadbare pair of jeans and an oil stained t-shirt, slips into his worn leather boots. He drops a light kiss on your forehead, brushing a finger down the curve of your neck. Smiles to himself when you snuffle a quiet snore.

And he heads out the backdoor, down the weatherworn brick to the garage out back.

It was an added bonus when he bought the house. An unanticipated domestic perk. Hell, he never thought he’d find someone would actually date him, let alone someone who wanted to marry him and buy a house with him and accept his penchant for hoarding things in a rickety old garage (come on, I grew up in the Depression and I need this, he whines every time you take him to Target).  

Thank god you said yes. He’s the luckiest jerk in the world.

Flicking on the garage light, Bucky still gets a little thrill. The entire place is an homage to eclectic, random artifacts, from the box of ugly 1970s vases he found at a flea market, to the fishing equipment he insisted on buying and has yet to use, to the sack of broken seashells you drunkenly collected on your honeymoon in Costa Rica.

In the midst of the swirl sits his pride and joy. Cherry red paint, black leather seats, a tad dusty, full of potential.

The 1969 Camaro looks like a teenage wet dream.

He remembers the day he brought it home, that surge of macho pride when your eyes lit up. After you slapped his ass and told him how sexy the car was, he reveled in your admiration for maybe 10 seconds, before hauling you back to the house and under the sheets. Took several hours before you both came up for air.

That was a good time, he thinks dreamily.

The car attracted his friends as well. Sam and Steve brought over a celebratory case of beer and stood by while Bucky explained the changes he had planned. Steve gave a few sage nods, while Sam helpfully threw out words like fuel injector now and then. Neither had a fucking clue what was happening, but Bucky graciously let them fake it.

Tony also saw the car once. Got a fervent gleam in his eye and started to say the phrase jet fuel, before Bucky ushered him out the door. Tony doesn’t get to see the car anymore.

There are still plenty of fixes to make, but for tonight he takes it easy. Flips on the ancient radio perched above the workbench and flops down on a rolling seat, sliding under the Camaro to tinker around. He goes to work, lets the crackle of the radio and the mechanical puzzle lull him into focus mode.  

So intent on the task at hand, he barely hears the garage door opening.

The click of a shoe alerts him too late and he freezes, gripping his wrench tight. Muscles tense, garage floor plans and fight scenarios flooding his brain.

“Bucky? Do you have a sec?”

His breath whooshes in relief at your voice. A silly grin bubbles up because you’re finally awake, until he tilts his head sideways, peering out from under the car to see your feet.

Black high heels.

Stomach sinking, Bucky closes his eyes. Back to work then. Motherfucker. He missed his chance again.

Swallowing down the bitter disappointment, he croaks out a plea.

“Hey babe, do you gotta go back to the office so soon? Can you just - “

Click click and you step between his legs. Firm hands clutch the oil stained fabric at his knees and you pull. The seat rolls easily and he slides free, squinting up at you in the dim light.

The words die on his lips.

Black high heels, yes.

And.

Lacy black underwear, the sides held together with thick satin ribbons. A lacy black bra, your breasts threatening to spill out.

Gorgeous, devilish smile.

Fingering the wide satin bow between your breasts, you tease a light tug and Bucky starts sweating like a virgin on prom night. His wrench slips from numb fingers, thunking him in the nuts and clattering away.

“Shit,” he grunts. There’s a moment of confusion on whether the fresh ache in his balls is from the punch of the wrench, or tantalizing swathes of skin before him, but then you say his name and he figures it out pretty fucking fast.

“Hey Bucky Bear,” you purr, in that raspy voice he loves. “Still want that surprise I promised?”

Palming himself roughly, Bucky adjusts the suddenly tight front of his jeans, eyeing you with a lusty smile. Fuck yes, he wants his surprise. He wants everything about you.

“You bet your sweet ass I do. What’d you have in mind?”

“I have some ideas,” you say playfully. Stepping closer, slipping your fingers into his silky hair, he leans into the touch. “And I promise we’ll get to them. But first, how about you stay down there and maybe show me how much you missed me?”

Torn, Bucky looks down at his oil stained fingers. They spasm, clutching the edge of the seat so tight the metal bends. His voice drops several octaves.

“Babe, I - shit, I’m gonna kill the mood here, but my hands are all dirty, I should wash ‘em first,” he apologizes. Rolling your eyes, you shift closer until the edge of his nose is a mere inch from the delicate lace panties.

“I’m not asking for your hands, soldier. You have a mouth. Get creative.”

Bucky’s jaw drops. Sassy and domineering? And nearly naked?

Hell yes, his dick shouts. Here we fucking go.

Warm and cool, tentative fingertips press into the smooth skin behind your knees, stroking higher until he’s plucking the satin ribbons and pulling. It feels like Christmas morning when the knot slowly breaks apart, whispers of satin and lace floating to the ground.

Nosing against your core, he inhales, long and deep. A low growl rumbles, rough hands gripping your hips tight and heat explodes across your skin when his tongue presses into your folds, licking over your clit.

“God,” your moan is dark, desperately breathless, “keep - that feels so good, Bucky, keep going, please, been way too long.”

Bucky gives a fervent nod of agreement, strands of his dark hair tickling your thighs. When was the last time he did this? Nah, you know what? If he has to ask, it’s been too long.

From now on, the only correct answer should be every damn day.

He feels you moving his head, guiding him exactly where you need him most, and he hums hungrily. Shoves his tongue deeper. He adores when you take charge, using him, his mouth or his fingers or his dick, to get yourself off. He loves it, dreams about it, wishes you would let him film it just one time (because sometimes missions last three weeks not three days Steve).

But until then, he devotes himself to making it perfect because you deserve perfect.

Fast, firm flicks of the tongue. Long, leisurely strokes, licking you slow and sweet. Rough pressure, his plush pink lips sucking tight around your clit. So good.

Your eyes fall closed as his tongue moves faster, quicker, pushing you closer closer closer -  

No, that won’t do. Cold metal lightly pinches your ass, a bid for attention. Chest heaving, you open your eyes.

Bright eyed and eager, Bucky gazes up from between your legs, looking thoroughly debauched. White t-shirt stretched tight across broad shoulders, dark hair mussed in your fingers, an obvious erection straining his jeans.

So close, you’re so close, right on the edge, just another second -

He knows, of course. Could always play you like a fiddle. He cocks a challenging eyebrow, sucks your clit between his teeth -

“Oh god, Bucky, fuck,” you moan. Weak knees buckle and his hands clutch your ass, keeping you upright and open. He never stops licking, swirling that talented tongue to draw out the bursts and shocks of pleasure until you’re gasping. When he’s wrung every drop from you, he kisses the sensitive bud and tips his head back with an arrogant smirk.

Legs like jelly, you promptly collapse into his lap.

The momentum of the fall sends the rolling seat flying. Busy being chivalrous and keeping you from tumbling headfirst onto dirty concrete, Bucky lets the wheels send him whizzing backward. His head smacks the door handle with a sharp thwack.

“Ow,” he grunts.

“Sorry,” you pant. Struggling for breath, wrapped in the haze of post orgasm bliss, you cuddle against him, soaking up his warmth. “Want me to rub it?”

Massaging his head, he wrinkles his nose. “Maybe. Depends on what you’re offering to rub.”

“Dealer’s choice,” you sass, and Bucky barks out a laugh. Wandering hands skim lightly over your shoulders, fingering the straps of the lacy bra, feather light trails along your collarbone, to the satin bow between your breaks. Tugging impatiently, he smiles when it unwinds, your breasts spilling free.

“Well, how about I take my pants off, we get in the backseat of this car, and you rub whatever you find.”

“Intriguing. What happens after I finish rubbing whatever…pokes my fancy?”

Bucky dips his head, takes your nipple between his lips, sucking gently. The feel of his wet mouth has you squirming closer until he pauses to offer an option.

“Maybe we fuck like a couple horny teenagers?”

“You’re killing me with the romance here, Barnes,” you say drily and he chuckles. “But I was maybe thinking something different.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

Licking a lazy strip between your breasts, he kisses up, up, up, until his tongue finds the hammering pulse of your heartbeat. Bemused, he hears your voice falter, before bravely offering your idea.

“I was thinking maybe I sit on the hood of your pretty red car, and – and you spread my legs and fuck me so good, I can’t walk for a week.”

Startled, Bucky pulls back. Excitement explodes in his chest.

“You - really? Seriously? That’s what you want?”

“Yep,” you confirm, palpable relief at successfully executing the dirty request. “That’s exactly what I want.”

Bucky plants a sloppy kiss on the tip of your nose. Wiggles his eyebrows and winks.

“Well god damn. You got it sweet cheeks.”

Wasting no time, he pushes off the ground and you kick your heels off, wrapping your legs around his waist. He huffs out a blissful moan when you suck a string of hickeys down his neck, grinding against you as he stumbles to the front of the car. Without thinking, he drops you on the shiny red hood and -

“Cold!”

Icy metal meets your bare ass. There’s a panicked scramble back into his arms and he manages to catch you, until your flailing upper cut cracks his jaw. It sends him off balance, tripping forward to smack his kneecaps on the Camaro’s fancy new grill. A grating screech tears the air and the grill rattles to the floor, the metallic clang bouncing off the walls.

Flinching, you peer up at him as it fades away.

Bucky’s nose twitches.

In all his fantasies (and there are many, because you are one sexy piece of ass), this shit never happens. Every sexcapade is effortlessly smooth, sensual and steamy, where you both look great, not a hair out of place, no oil-stained hands or unintended destruction of expensive vintage cars.

In reality, it seems like something always goes sideways. One of his nipples gets gouged by your fingernail or the silk from your negligee gets caught in the plates of his arm, or one of his perfectly aimed thrusts sends you both toppling off the bed. Sometimes he wonders if this is just the two of you? Do other people have perfectly orchestrated sex lives? Is porn not a true mirror of real life?

Is porn a lie?

Maybe he should watch more porn and form a more educated opinion.

For now, he takes in your crestfallen expression, vehemently shaking his head when you try to apologize.

“Buck, I’m sorry, I -“

Holding up a stern hand, he stops you cold. Sets you on your feet, gallantly whipping off his shirt, and spreading it on the shiny red paint. This time when he sets you on the hood, you lay back until the familiar scent of his cologne hugs you close. Bucky lifts your feet, propping each on the hood, spreading your legs open. He leans in close, a pink flush spreading over his chest, crawling up his throat, blue eyes turning dark.  

“Listen to me. Don’t ever apologize, okay? You’re worth more than this old junker.” A crooked smile tilts his mouth, his voice as soft as the lips now brushing yours. “You’re priceless. You understand?”

“Okay,” you murmur. Fingers dance lightly up the hard planes of his stomach, wrapping around the chain of his old dog tags. “I understand.”  

Bucky nods, watching your eyes drift down, drinking him up. He lives for that look. Sets him on fire, to watch you ogle him. When your eyes skate down his right side, he flexes his forearm a bit, because he knows it turns you on.   

A swift tug of the chain and he dips easily, mouth slanting over yours. There’s a faint sound of teeth clacking together, and he stifles a laugh at your excitement. Deep kisses, stoking that simmering fire sitting right below the surface. Your lips part and he slides inside, curling his tongue around yours, pulling away to lick along the corner of your mouth, to suck your bottom lip between his teeth.

The thought appears, same as when he had his mouth between your legs. How long has it been since the two of you just made out like this? Same answer? Too fucking long?

This is definitely happening more often.  

He feels your eager fingers reach for the button of his jeans, popping it open, slipping your hand inside. Cool fingers wrap tight around his cock, the other hand wandering down to squeeze a handful of his ass. Bucky hurriedly shimmies his pants to his knees, sets both hands on the car and leans forward, tipping his face down, touching his forehead to yours. Blue eyes flutter closed, breath hitching while he concentrates on the feel of your capable hands, slow strokes along his length, slicker with each tug.

“Fuck, that feels good,” he grits out. “Can you - damn that’s good - can you, there, bit lower -“

Ragged pants melt into a low groan when you slip your hand from the death grip on his ass to cup his balls, rolling them against your palm.

“Like that?”

“Yeah, yeah, yes, fuck yes, just like that,” he hisses, thrusting into your hands. “Can you - can you pull just a little-“

He stammers the question, ignoring your amused hum. It was a quirk, one he discovered early in the relationship. It came out of the blue, a bashful request during a romp in the sheets, but for some reason, Bucky has a thing for having his balls tugged. Not hard (which was also discovered after an unconsciously rough yank had him squealing in pain), but more of a soft squeeze, followed by a slow pull.

Like how you squeeze an overripe banana, he had explained later, gingerly massaging his balls. Not so hard it squishes.

Many entertaining attempts later, and he swears you have the move patented. Stroking his dick faster, your thumb presses over his balls, before a careful pull. Tipping his head back, Bucky stares glass eyed at the ceiling, lost in pleasure, pushing himself into your firm grip.  

“Feel good?” you murmur.

“Yeah. Yes, so good, so god damn good ,” he chokes out. Faster, harder, faster - and then a strangled gasp and panicked blue eyes catch yours. “Wait, too good, it’s too good! Don’t wanna come yet, hang on! Need to be inside you first.”

He grabs your wrists, the thwarted sting of a denied orgasm obvious in the grind of his teeth. Both of you look down to where your hands are wrapped around him, one still kneading his balls, the other curled around the velvety hot skin of his cock.

“Okay,” you say, looking him up and down. “Fine, but - you’re so sexy, Bucky. And I love your balls.”

Bucky nods furiously, gulping a deep lungful of air. His ass cheeks are twitching.

“I love that you love them, I really do. But babe, I need you to let go of my balls or I’ll come all over your hand,” he rasps, wiggling away. Releasing him, your hands run up his chest, twining around his neck, dragging his sweat damp chest flush against you.

“If I must,” you agree, smiling into his lips. Bucky relaxes into you, the slow melt of tongues follows, the kind where a kiss bounces around, until it finds the perfect rhythm. His hands trace up the line of your arms, unlocking your fingers and pulling them free. Brushing his thumbs over your wrists, he bends close, kisses your knuckles.

And then he folds your arms above your head, pinning them down.  

“Keep them there, alright? Don’t move until I say you can.”

“Kinky. Yes sir,” you breathe. He smirks.

“You’d better watch it, you little deviant. I might get used to that.”

“Sorry…sir.”

Pulling you further down the hood, he rubs his cock between your legs, sliding himself between your folds until a slick sheen coats his skin. It startles a grunt from you when he abruptly shoves inside, sinking deep until his hips press flush to yours.  

He waits. Has to wait actually, because its been a long damn time and if he’s not careful he’s going to embarrass himself before he even gets started and holy shit, is this even real life? Is he dreaming?

Splayed out on the hood of his car, legs wide open, breasts wet from his tongue, black lace and crumpled satin ribbons. Arms pinned above the luscious skin bared just for him. Bucky stares between your legs, dry mouthed and dizzy.

“Come on, Bucky, please? Fuck me, please fuck me, I missed you so much.”

How could he ever resist this? You naked, writhing against the vivid red of his Camaro, moaning for him to fuck you, with his cock buried in your -

“Aw fucking hell,” he mutters. After so many weeks apart, he knows full well this won’t last long. It’s a damn good thing he has more than a few rounds in him.

Cracking his neck, rolling his shoulders back, he digs thick fingers into your thighs, pulls back nice and slow. He waits. Waits. Waits a bit longer because he likes to be an asshole and hear you beg.

“Bucky, come on -”

And he plunges into you, burying himself in the tight, silky heat of your cunt. Warm up over, no slow start. The pace he sets is rough, so deep he feels the pleasure licking down his spine and into his toes. Over and over, he slams into you until one particularly sharp thrust presses the tip of his cock against that perfect spot inside and you arch up with a broken cry. Hands scrabble above your heard, searching for anything to hold onto, finding something flexible.

With a plastic snap, the windshield wiper blade breaks off in your hand.

Bucky stutters to a halt, blinking sweat from his eyes when he sees the look of horror on your face. The apology is still forming when he snatches the plastic from your fingers, throwing it aside.

“Don’t care,” he grunts. Giving you no time to argue, he wraps his hands behind your knees and raises your hips, fucking into you faster. The filthy echo of sweat slick skin accompanies his breathless order. “Touch yourself. Let me watch.”

A frantic agreement and one hand slips between your legs, the other cupping your breast. Frantic circles over the swollen bud, trembling fingers plucking at a pebbled nipple. Bucky watches greedily, eyes flickering back and forth, memorizing those things that bring you pleasure, fantastically dirty memories to replay on a rainy day.

“Bucky,” desperate fingers rub your clit faster. “Keep going, please keep - keep doing that, I’m close, I’m so close, I’m -“

Sharp and sweet and unexpected, the orgasm crashes into you. Arching up, the low moan tears free, and Bucky slows, hypnotized by the sight of you shuddering beneath him.

“There you go, that’s it,” he urges hoarsely, before surging forward and capturing your lips in a wild kiss. Two more pumps of his hips and he stops, grinding against you until he comes with a heavy groan.

Silence fills the room, broken only with the sounds of harsh breaths and the wet rush of his heartbeat thumping in his ears. He rests his forehead between your breasts, listening to the staccato beat of your quick breaths, until you struggle up onto your elbows, pushing his sweaty hair away from his face.

“So I broke your car.”

He says nothing, but a moment later his shoulders begin to shake and suddenly he’s laughing, great rushing wheezes as he struggles for breath. Raising his head, he finds you nervously squinting down at him. He stretches up, presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I got insurance. Just need to check my coverage for mildly destructive ‘I missed you’ sex.”

“You might consider expanding that policy. I’m just saying,” you suggest with a giggle and he snorts.

Quiet contentment blankets the stuffy garage, both of you basking in that tingly afterglow. Folding your hands behind his neck, you draw him close and Bucky nuzzles into the crook of your neck.

“Been tough lately,” he whispers, mouthing gently along your throat. “Trying to find time together.”

Nodding slowly, your smile turns wistful.

“Yeah…guess it makes any time we get even better. Right? It doesn’t matter to me what we do, as long as we’re doing it together.”

Bucky feels a lump in his throat (the kind that could easily dissolve into manly super soldier tears), and he gathers you in his arms, tucking you against his chest. When he answers, his voice cracks just a bit.

“Someone’s a sentimental sap.”

He hears your muffled laugh against his chest, feels you bite at his collarbone and he chuckles.

“I love you Bucky. And I’m really sorry I murdered your car.”

“I love you too, babe. I’m glad you came down here. Especially in that outfit.”

“Yeah? You liked it?”

“Fuck yes I did. What spurred that idea, hmm?”

“I just don’t want to lose our spark,” you admit, snuggling closer. “When things get so busy, it’s easy to let things like this slide, and I don’t want you to - get bored, I guess. With us.”

Bucky thinks about all his relationship advice articles and the fact that he sometimes even prints them out and goes through with a yellow highlighter to capture the key points. Hearing your soft concern makes him fall even more in love with you.

Because this is important. This relationship, this love, this spark he was lucky enough to find with you, it’s the most important thing in his world. You are the most important thing in his world.

Brushing a knuckle down your cheek, he coaxes your chin up.

“I know it’s tough, always being on different schedules, but I want you to know, I’m always gonna love you and I’m always gonna want you. Nothing changes that. And if you ever doubt just how much I genuinely want to bang you all night long, then you say something. Deal?”

He boops your nose and you grin.

“Deal.”

“And honey, not that I’m complaining, trust me, but you don’t need to dress sexy to get me all reved up,” he shrugs. “You do that just by looking at me.”

“You do know how to charm the pants off a lady, Barnes.”

He throws his head back and laughs. Swings you up in his arms and calms your startled yelp with a kiss.

“Damn straight. Now how about we give that backseat a try. I think you mentioned wanting to rub something back there?”

*****

[fuckallthegood0nesweretaken]

New World CH. Nine

Title: Home Sweet Home

Words: 1803

Warnings: Strong language, allusions to sex, spicy kissing and groping

A/N: Here’s chapter nine! If you’d like to request something, send me an ask. I’d love to write for you! 

If you’d like to support me, buy me a Ko-Fi?

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

New World Masterlist

Daryl Dixon Masterlist

The Walking Dead Masterlist

Masterlist

~~~~~~~

Dean

Walking over to the others, Dean checked his pistol and took his knife out of its holster. Sophia and Adeline didn’t want him to go, but Beth quickly took their attention away. Daryl had found a coloring book and some crayons a few weeks ago and the girls had fallen in love with it.

 “Ready?” Hershel said. Rick looked at everyone and opened the gate. The six of them rushed through and Hershel closed it quickly. Looking over to the fence, Dean saw the rest of the group trying to lure the walkers to them and away from the six inside the courtyard.

 Hefting his knife, he stabbed a walker in the head, pushing it away after. They stayed in tight formation, never straying too far from the others. On high alert, Dean killed every walker he could. T-Dog saw a riot shield and hurried towards it, pushing a walker away before Maggie followed, killing it. Glenn reached for her and they were back in formation.

 “Almost there,” Rick said. He opened a door and when he saw it was clear, he looked around the corner.

 “Shit,” he muttered. He pressed his back up against the wall and Dean followed suite. Rick held his fist up, telling everyone to stop. Looking over, Dean saw two walkers in riot gear.

 “Fuck,” Dean whispered.

 Two more popped up and when Daryl shot at one, it didn’t make a dent. T-Dog and Rick ran forward, trying to find a weak spot in the armor. Dean moved back a bit next to Daryl and a walker came out of the door Rick opened. Maggie swung at it and pushed it away while Dean watched her six. A few more walkers came up and Dean helped Glenn take care of them quickly. Dean could see Daryl in the corner of his eye and he was making quick work of some too.

 “Daryl!” Rick called, body slamming one of the geared up ones. He got up quickly and ran to the open gate, sending a walker flying with a kick. Daryl went over to help him close it, locking it shut with a chain. Now all they had to deal with were the geared walkers. One of them had gotten a hold of Maggie and she fought back, one hand pushing up its helmet and the other driving her knife up into its head.

 “You see that?” She said excitedly. Taking her example, Dean pulled back their helmets before killing them. Once they were all taken care of, Dean looked around.

 “Stop,” Rick said as Glenn ran to let the others in.

 “It’s secure,” he said.

 “Not from the look of that courtyard,” Daryl said. “And that’s a civilian.”

 “So the interior could be overrun with walkers from outside the prison,” T-Dog said with a sigh.

 “Well that puts a damper on our plans.” Dean huffed, wiping sweat away from his face.

 “If there’s walls down, what are we gonna do? We can’t rebuild the whole prison.”

 “We can’t risk a blind spot. We have to push in,” Rick said.

 Dean looked over to you and Sam and made a ‘hold on’ gesture before following Rick into the prison. He was right behind Daryl and got his knife ready as Daryl opened a door. No walkers came out and they all proceeded, closing the door behind them. The room had little light, but Dean could see easily. Water was dripping from somewhere and there was only one body in the room.

 Dean checked the closed doors to see if they were locked and they were. Rick walked up the stairs to the watch-room and grabbed the keys off of the guard. Quietly, he found the right key to open up the cell block and Dean checked all of the cells on the bottom floor with Glenn. A thud from upstairs made Dean’s head whip around and he followed Daryl up. The right side was clear, but there were two walkers stuck in some cells on the left side. Rick and Daryl nodded to each other and killed them both. After it was double checked to make sure it was safe, Dean went back outside and grabbed everyone else.

 ---

 “What do you think?” Rick asked.

 “Home sweet home,” Glenn sassed.

 “For the time being.”

 “Is it secure?” Lori said.

 “This cell block is,” Dean said.

 “What about the rest of the prison?” Hershel asked.

 “In the morning, we’ll find the cafeteria and the infirmary.”

 “We sleep in the cells?” Beth asked Rick.

 “I found keys on some guards. Daryl has a set too.”

 “I ain’t sleepin’ in no cage,” Daryl said. “I’ll take the perch.”

 With that, everyone went to find a cell and you took one on the second floor, farthest from the door. It was cleaner than some of the others and you set Ada’s things down on the top bunk before setting a sleeping Adeline down. Letting out a sigh, you walked to the cell next to hers and put your stuff on the floor. Before you could fall asleep though, you got up and walked over to Daryl.

 “You sure you wanna sleep out here?” You asked. He nodded and you bent down to whisper in his ear.

 “If you stay with me, we’ll have some privacy.” You kissed his cheek and sauntered away. “Think about it.”

 Back in the cell, you were rummaging through your pack when you felt a body press up against yours. Rough hands were at your hips and you stood up, turning to face Daryl.

 “Door don’t close,” he said.

 “That’s fine with me.”

 With that, he kissed you and pushed you onto the mattress, stifling your moans with his mouth.

 ---

 You woke up to Daryl kissing the back of your neck and you hummed, turning to face him. You had slept good that night. Not having to keep one eye open felt great, but what felt better was Daryl’s arms around you. You didn’t want to wake up, but you knew there was work to be done.

 “Mornin’,” you said with a yawn.

 “Mornin’.” He kissed you and started rubbing his hips into yours. You groaned and Daryl was quick to get you under him. One of his hands held him up and the other was busy running up and down your side. His crotch dipped to meet yours and you keened at the bulge you felt.

 “You’re not tired from last night, are ya?” He asked, kissing your neck.

 “For you? Never.”

 “Good. ‘Cause I’m gonna fuck ya good. You’re not gonna be able ta walk once I’m done with ya,” Daryl growled. Moaning quietly at his words, you arched your back and Daryl grabbed your wrists before pinning them above your head. Your shirt was about to come off when you heard Sam calling for you.

 “[Y/n], Daryl. Come downstairs. We gotta get ready to go.”

 With a groan, Daryl put his head in the crook of your neck. He started sucking on your pulse point and your voice cracked as you called back to Sam.

 “A-Alright! We’ll be out in a sec.”

 “Damn cockblock,” Daryl grumbled. You laughed and kissed him.

 “We can finish this later. We gotta clear out the prison today.”

 “I’m holding ya ta that.” Daryl got up and you followed, getting changed out of your pajamas and into your day clothes. Daryl had finished before you and you watched him leave, biting your lip. Shaking your head slightly, you pulled on your jeans and frowned. They were slightly tighter than normal, but you dismissed it and went to Adeline’s cell. Waking her up, you helped dress her then walked down the stairs with her and Daryl. You dropped Adeline off with Beth and Sophia, kissing her nose.

 “Be a good girl for Beth, okay?” Ada nodded and you laughed.

 “Okay! Love you, mommy!”

 “I love you too, baby.”

 When you got into the common area, there was a pile of weapons on one of the tables. You whistled softly and picked up one of the pistols.

 “Not bad,” Daryl said.

 “Flash bangs, CS Triple-Chasers. Not sure how they’d work on walkers, but we’ll take them,” Dean said.

 You were checking out the guns and a flash of silver caught your eye. Picking up a large knife, you twirled it in your fingers.

 “Anyone call dibs on this? ‘Cause I want it.”

 “You can have it. Sheath’s right here,” Rick said. You put the gun you were holding in your waistband and strapped the sheath to your thigh, sliding the knife in after. The weight felt weird, but you knew you’d get used to it.

 “I ain’t wearin’ this shit,” Daryl said in disgust, holding up a dripping helmet.

 “We could boil ‘em,” T-Dog suggested.

 “Not enough firewood in tha whole forest. No. ‘Sides, we made it this far without ‘em, right?”

 “I have to agree with Daryl. I’m not wearing one of those. That looks disgusting.” You made a face and turned your attention back to the weapons.

 “Hershel?” Carol said, tilting her head, telling Hershel to come over.

 “Everything alright?” Rick asked.

 “Everything’s fine.” The two of them walked away and Rick looked at you.

 “I don’t want you coming,” Rick said.

 “What? Why?”

 “Just in case anything goes wrong, I want you here to take care of the kids and Lori.”

 You sighed but nodded. “Alright. I’ll stay here.”

 When you turned to face Dean, you saw Daryl looking at you. He was not so subtly checking you out. His eyes went from head to toe. Your hair pulled into a pony tail, your breasts squished by your crossed arms, your thighs that each had a holster- one for the knife and the other for your gun- to your boots where your other knife was hidden. When you turned away from him, he could see the pistol you took from the table peeking out of your waistband, a little sliver of your skin showing.

 Shaking his head, he turned his attention to his crossbow, getting it ready to go. You smirked and jutted your hip out. Hershel had come back and now everyone was getting ready to leave. Carl was messing around with a clean helmet and Rick saw him.

 “You won’t need that,” he said. “I need you to stay put.”

 “You’re kidding.”

 “We don’t know what’s out there. Something goes wrong you could be the last man standing. I need you to handle things here, help [y/n] and Sam if they need it.”

 “Sure,” Carl said, nodding. Rick handed him the keys.

 “Great. Let’s go.” You kissed Dean’s cheek and waved goodbye to your brother before turning around and walking back to your daughter. Carl locked it after his dad left and you didn’t look back.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Mission of Mercy: Twenty- Five

“Listen,” Rock said, handing out another round of drinks as he watched Clay out the window, “Y/N is a good boss. As long as Clay is looked after and we don’t spend too much on beer and pay per view boxing matches, she doesn’t really ride us too hard.”  He sighed and popped his neck. “Clay made enemies. A lot of them… And he doesn’t remember any of it.”

“So is that why-” Bucky started, and Rock snorted. 

“Why did she tell him she was taking him to a new posting? Yeah. It makes him wary of strangers but doesn’t freak him out.”

He nodded and looked back towards the man outside. And his chest hurt. “Clay thinks she’s 8 years old.”

“Sometimes,” Rock said. “Sometimes he knows she’s a grown up. Sometimes he thinks she’s just his company contact.”

“How’d his shit get so scrambled?” Sam asked, taking a sip of his beer.

“At least one traumatic brain injury. Maybe two… Y/N made us our plans. All the stuff we can use to help keep him out of the woods but… Sometimes, I wonder how much longer she can keep him out here. I mean, you guys found us. What’s to stop someone else from doing it?”

Bucky exhaled slowly and shook his head. He’d like to say he’d help you but. In the other room he could hear Jack furiously texting. And he had a sneaking suspicion that he’d be lucky if you’d even look at him when he got back.

__________

You brace yourself and take aim. You’d hope some range time would take your mind off of how furious you were. But it hadn’t.

You still wanted to grab Bucky and shake him until his teeth rattled. To yell at him and ask if he realized how many people were tracking him. If he’d considered the risk that this little escapade had posed to Clay. But you already knew the answer. 

Of course he didn’t.

He wanted to help so badly. To make sure that you weren’t in over your head. That he plunged headlong into a piss poor plan. Maybe he had some rabbit brained idea that HE was going to be able to fix Clay. But there was nothing to be done. His brain was slowly dissolving. He was sinking faster and faster into the past. And it was getting harder and harder to help him find his way out. 

It was the slowest goodbye. Instead of losing your brother once, you were going to say goodbye to him for years. You were keeping him from people who loved him. Trying to protect everyone. But fuck if you wouldn’t give anything to be able to take care of all those old enemies and bring him home. Put him in a nursing home where you could visit more. Where his mom could come and fuss over him. And Joe could come and play cards. 

You squeeze the trigger repeatedly, hoping the rapport from the gun will chase the thoughts out of your head. To get rid of the stinging behind your eyes. But it doesn’t. Cold fire burns behind your rib cage and down into your belly. Your skin felt like it was vibrating. And all you wanted to do was scream. 

Like every scream you ever swallowed was clawing its way out of your throat . Like every time you bit your tongue and looked down. Afraid that if you started screaming you’d never stop had come back to haunt you. All the words you’d never said because you were afraid to manipulate someone. Afraid that you’d hurt them. It felt like they were bounding around in your skull threatening to burst it in two. 

And when cold metal and warm flesh wrap around you, pinning your arms to your sides and pulling you backwards against a solid chest… It’s only then that you realize you really were screaming. 

__________

Bucky looked at the blue glow cast over your skin and heard the decades of pain burst out of your mouth and it was enough to almost knock him off his feet. 

“Y/N,” he murmured, lips against your ear, “It’s okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

And he isn’t sure if it’s the pressure or the fact that it’s him, but when you start to go lip, your now unloaded pistol clattering to the floor, he kneels behind you, keeping you against his chest. 

“Why’d you do it, Bucky?” you ask softly. 

And you can feel the jolt of alertness behind you. “I pay them,” you say bitterly, “Did you think they wouldn’t call me?”

Bucky exhaled slowly. “I found your journals- on accident,” he added quickly. “I bumped the button with my knee. And then I- I- I guess I wanted to know.”

“So- you put Clay at risk because you were curious?”

He winced, “If it helps… We did some recon on the island. Beefed up your security measures a little.”

“It doesn’t,” you sigh, “But thanks anyway.”

“Y/N-”

“Stop!” you bark, pushing away and getting to your feet quickly. “You lied to me. Not Once. But several times. You literally went out of your way to avoid me so you could keep lying to me because you KNEW you were in the wrong.”

You push hair out of your face and look down at him. “How fucking dare you?” you ask. “What gave you the right? What made you think that it was okay to lie to me? To ignore the fact that I DIDN’T WANT YOUR HELP! Do you think I like knowing that I’m hurting everyone that loves him? Do you think it’s fun to have my mother live her life in perpetual fucking mourning? Do you think I don’t know that Clay would do better with that group of crusty old fucks to sneak him beer and peanut butter cups?” You break off, panting and wipe away frustrated tears. “And now I have to contend with SHIELD too? How is any of that fair?”

“It’s not- I just-” Bucky stopped when you glared at him and shut his mouth with a snap. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly. 

“So am I,” you say softly, turning on your heel and walking away. Before you say anything else you might regret.

Bucky watched you go and exhaled slowly. He wished that you would have just hit him. It would have felt better. Because for the first time, he understood why you were so careful with the words you said and the tone you used. He felt every scrap of what you felt. 

And he felt like he wanted to scream.