#so ive barely played it recently

[lucabyte]

even dogs pass the mirror test

[majunju]

h h h hi r u gonna.. ever draw more.. scaralumi or u burnt out from drawing them? and if u are i completely understand tho ^^ i miss ur lumi

i think it’s a mix of there having no recent content for them + genshin burnout HAHAHAA i’m jst not tht into the game as i was a few years ago as well 🥲 but who knows, with this new patch and us going back to mondstadt we’ll see what happens 🙂‍↕️

[lunarharp]

played dragon age 2...just simple scribbles

[funkle420]

im playing undertale for the first time and i can feel myself aging a single year to become a millennial

[itsalwaysforyou]

the black sky and all those lights

a silly little something i wrote for jalentines!!

When Mal opens the dormitory door, Jay is standing in the hallway in his workout gear, hair tied up in a bun. He’s already grinning in that way he does when he wins a fight. Mal rolls her eyes at him. Grabbing her bag, she says bye to Evie, and joins Jay in the corridor. 

She scowls as they walk, her workout clothes tight on her skin. Jay had insisted they’d do things properly, and not in their usual leather. 

The hallways are decorated for Valentine’s Day, making Auradon Prep even more gaudy and colourful as usual. Pink and red hearts plastered across the walls, boasting the abundance of love here in Auradon. Jay’s had a thousand notes in his locker. Mal’s had none. Every morning, she watches Jay approach his locker like he would a target on the Isle. Weight forward, shoulders squared; ready to fight if needs be. And the paper falls to the floor like blood, only sickly pastel. Scrawled glittery gel pen. Words confessing passionate love, or asking him on dates, or doodles of hearts. Jay smiles the whole time. Greets and winks at girls. Scrunches those notes up in a fist. 

“Everywhere looks disgusting,” Mal says as they approach the sports hall. Heart-shaped bunting crests the doors.

Jay holds the door open for her. “It’s fun.”

“You would think that.”

The sports hall is mercifully free of décor. They drop their bags in the corner and begin to warm up, another stupid practice Jay insists on. His top rides up as he side-stretches. Isle rule: never show skin, especially to the enemy. Except, Jay loved to parade around in those stupid sleeveless vests. She’s yelled at him plenty of times about it—Are you insane? You’re a walking target. He would just grin and say, they’ll have to catch me first.

Jay laughs as he grabs the practice swords from their stands. “Here.” 

He throws it, and Mal catches. The weight in her hand is familiar. Already, her pulse is thrumming faster, and maybe if she closes her eyes she’ll be back on the docks, with the wind ripping at her hair, and the salt stinging her nose, and half a dozen of Uma’s crew jeering over the clanging of swords. 

Jay chucks her a mask too, before attaching one to his own face. The mesh turns her vision slightly hazy.

“Ready?” Jay asks.

Mal’s watched fencing practise a few times, mostly as an excuse not to do homework and instead watch her boys wipe the floor with all those prissy Auradon princes. Coach Jenkins appointed Jay captain of the team a few months ago, a role he takes more seriously than she’s ever seen him take anything. 

“Rassembler! Salute! Lower the point. Masks down. En guarde!”

Mal lunges first, which Jay clearly anticipates, parrying her blow. He circles. Strikes. Mal blocks it. He’s quick. Reflexes honed to a sword’s point; learned by practise and theory. Mal lashes out again, just catching his free arm before he jerks away. She grins underneath her mask. Her breath comes quicker. Jay’s blade arcs down, hitting her chest. Mal swats his blade away. She hears him laugh. She growls. Strike. Parry. Strike. Block. Strike. Jay lands another hit. Their shoes squeak against the linoleum floor. 

“Come on, Mal,” Jay teases. 

Mal lunges like a cat on its prey. Jay’s blade grates against hers like steel against flint. Jay may be quick but Mal’s smaller, and she weaves her way through Jay’s blade until they both have the sword’s point angled at each other’s chests. 

They’re both panting. Jay lowers his sword first. Takes off his mask. 

“You came in clutch at the end,” he says. 

Mal huffs, wiggling the mask off her face and wiping her forehead with a sleeve. “You actually get training.”

“And now I’m training you!” 

His hair has loosened during the sparring, spilling out at the seams. He unties the bun; flips his hair down and shakes it out. In this late-afternoon light, his hair could be made of gold. Hair longer than Mal’s ever had. 

He pulls his hair back into its bun, deft fingers making quick work. When he straightens back up again, his face is slightly flushed from the match. 

And Mal looks at this boy she’s known most of her life; this face and these hands; a boy that has held her at the end of the world and the start of a new one. And she snatches back down her mask. 

“Again,” she says, lifting up her sword. 

She’s swinging before Jay’s even had the chance to pull his own mask back down. Her blade slices against his chest, and she hears the breath escape from his lungs. 

“Fuck!’

Jay’s blocking her hits in no time. Mal grits her teeth. A boy who’s inhabited every place she’s ever been. The shadow along the street; a fixed point on the rooftops. Those long, quick fingers that know their way around bandage; around open flesh; around her own hands. Like a comet to Earth. Like an eclipse. Totally consuming. 

And here, where the sun shines brighter than they could have ever dreamed, she is left blistering. Those girls that fawn over Jay, professing their love with the same ease that Mal can hold a dagger to a throat. Jay’s clicking tongue, and that low fry to his voice when he’s chatting someone up. Everything is always so easy to him. He can wrap anyone around his finger with a wink. 

His blade slams into her stomach. Mal pants, the budding pain in her side clearing her head. Jay’s standing above her like some heavenly deity. 

“Best of four?” he offers.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“C’mon. Let’s take a break.”

Jay drops his sword and grabs his water bottle from his bag. Mal joins him, still gripping her sword, gulping down her water like a man in a desert. 

“We should do this again soon,” Jay says. 

“Tomorrow?”

“It’s the Valentine’s Ball tomorrow.”

Mal snorts. “Yeah, and?”

“I was gonna go.”

His words are coming too slow; too considered. Like when he used to talk about his dad, or a particularly bad Barge Day. Rehearsed. A guard dog who’s smelled danger, prowling at the sidelines. 

Mal presents her blade. “En guarde!” she shouts, and Jay ducks her swing before scrambling over to his own sword. 

“Really, Mal? Another sneak attack?”

“I’m keeping you on your toes.”

They waltz around the sports hall, the blades clashing and slicing and singing.

“We all agreed we weren’t going to go to the Ball,” Mal says, jabbing at Jay.

“We never agreed anything.”

Jay lands a blow. They are at the dockyard, with its rotting wooden pier and dead fish stench. The screeching of metal; the shouting; Mal’s heart hammering like the tide. Blood, and life. The roar in her ears. A dragon’s call. Body moving without a thought, as quick as a lightning strike. Not having to look behind her because she knows Jay is there.

“Exactly!” she says. “Why would we want to go to some stuffy Auradon ball?” Jay tries to say something but she ignores him. “Why would we care about Valentine’s Day? It’s corny, and over-commercialised, and a stupid excuse to make everything about love.”

Jay has her backed up against a wall. With no time to mount his mask, his lips are slightly parted, and his hair is escaping from his bun again. He looks just like he did on the Isle; none of his perfect prince act that fools Auradon. His sword hovers above her throat. 

“Do you yield?” His voice is low.

Mal stares at him. Those eyes that have seen every part of her. All the blood; every smile; her pale skin in the dark Isle nights. The boy that has beheld her every action; weighed it all against his own understanding of the world, and decided that they slot together as easily as a bullet in a pistol.

“Who are you going with to the Ball?” Mal asks. She’s still clutching her sword. She could claim the upper hand, if she really wanted.

A grin creeps across Jay’s face. All those notes and heart-shaped lollipops. The giggling girls at his locker. He could pick any one of them. All of them so beautiful, in their sunset-coloured dresses. He could have anything he wanted.

“Well,” Jay says. “I was going to ask you.”

The sword’s point makes sure they keep their distance. Never too close. All touches so light; so fleeting, as if you could’ve mistaken them for a dream. As if you could’ve imagined the whole thing. All those nights in the hideout where the barrier of the body seemed thin, and the world became so small: just two kids who wouldn’t even dare knock knees. 

So Mal shakes it all away with a laugh. “I’m not going to the Valentine’s Ball.”

Jay lowers his blade. Neither of them move. “Not even with me?” 

“I’m sure there’ll be plenty of other girls who actually want to go with you.”

“I want to go with you.”

His words echo through the empty hall. His word is as steadfast as ever, the only opinion Mal will ever trust. Compass, anchor: Jay does it all. 

Heralded here, Mal as real as the vast sky outside. Here, in his gaze, held aloft by trust where there shouldn’t be and compassion where there shouldn’t be and understanding where there shouldn’t be. A home for all her broken bones. 

Mal’s lips unfurl into a smile. This ache in her chest. In her throat. Jay always being able to disarm her. Jay in every place she’s ever been. Jay as her shadow; her skin; her second self. A reflection in the mirror. The line of separation is nonexistent. Like the sun, like the moon: one cannot exist without the other.

[astranauticus]

was talking to a friend about how the last piece of genshin merch i ever got was a print of albedo and his clone (from back when the plant albedo event was still,, fresh) and had the extremely abrupt realisation that a. my current obsession with clones and the associated horror tropes started WAY earlier than i thought b. "'imperfect' clone harbouring resentment towards 'perfect' original clone who's also an artificial human, just better made" is literally the backstory to one of my ocs. what the fuck???

[i-mode]

having a moment tonight made this

[auberginenikki]

Love Nikki has yuri???!!? 💕🩷💞💗💖

[gu6chan]

omw to start skyrim (my very own copy!!!) can't wait to see what I'll get away with

[failedcoinflip]

no daily today! i need to study for a bio test

[arolesbianism]

I have been playing beastieball and first of all very good game second of all smth smth Olivia Broussard

[foxstens]

been reading kin'iro loveriche

[erwinsvow]

OMG I WAS THE ANON WHO SENT SMTH ABT ASKING JACK ABBOT TO BE UR BOYFRIEND A BAR AND SITTING IN HIS LAP TO ESCAPE A CREEP (unless tumblr ate my ask bc it hates me), BUT IVE BEEN WATCHING ANIMAL KINGDOM AND IM FROTHING AY THE MOUTH NOW THINKING ABT POPE AND THAT SITUATION GRHAGEHEH

im only on s2 of animal kingdom but i just ADORE how you write pope and i needed to share this with you because whenever i think of pope's characterization i think of you frfr

i actually went so physically insane over this prompt. i was counting down the minutes until school ended so i could write this and it's so small but i hope you like it. it would be perfect for jack but ohmygod for pope. imagine this is how he meets wifey or something. jesus lord

he sits on a stool at deran's bar, right against the counter, because he doesn't have anywhere else to be. anywhere else to go right now. there's bruises littered across his back and a visible scratch on his neck and one on his forehead that's still healing. a wrapped up hand picks up his beer and takes a long sip before setting it down a little harder than he intended.

the place is packed—it always is. some part of andrew, deep inside, is happy for deran. the people here are drunk and chattery and he knows that there's regulars and locals who prefer this place. his brother created something that others love, that people go to willingly.

and andrew hasn't felt anything close to that feeling in forever. he takes another drink of his beer, this time until it's empty, and raises it towards the bartender. he doesn't know where deran is tonight, probably out mixed in the crowd, mingling and talking. craig is probably with him. and like always, andrew is alone.

the bartender brings over another and takes the empty bottle away. it's his third or fourth—though it takes so much to get him drunk, he hasn't even begun to feel the stupid effects of it yet. and all around him, people keep partying, talking, drinking. loud over the music that plays in the background. it's all too loud.

this one will have to be his last. he needs to go home. but the idea of going inside the house, to his bedroom, to the bedroom that was lena's, makes him think the beer might come back up. he'll take the truck to the beach, sit there for a few hours. roll the window down so there's nothing but quiet and ocean waves. nothing can fix how he's been feeling recently, but maybe that can patch it up for a few hours, a temporary band-aid. (what he really needs is something closer to surgery, but he can't think about that right now. band-aid it is.)

he takes a breath, shoulders rising in the black shirt he'd worn today. another sip of his beer. and just when he decides it's time to go be alone—always, he's always alone—he feels a tap on his shoulder. there's a healing bruise, yellow and green, there so he winces briefly before turning to face who it is—craig or deran. he's not sure who else it could be.

and then he sees you. blinking up at him, eyes fluttering quickly. breathing heavy and turning your neck as if someone's following you. you look jittery and nervous, though for once, it's not directed at him. it makes something dark and protective wash over him briefly. you take little shallow breaths, he can tell from how your chest heaves, when he turns and faces you all the way. he doesn't think he's ever seen you before.

"yes?"

"w-what's your name?" you turn again, like you're waiting for someone to show up behind you.

"my name?" he repeats quietly. he can barely hear you over the continual drone of the bar and the shitty music. you nod quickly, taking a step closer to him. you slide between his seat and the seat next to him, standing there, so close that a couple more inches and you'd be touching him, skin to skin.

you don't look drunk. you're not slurring your words or stumbling. your hands are empty, your eyes still scanning the crowd. you're wearing a pretty dress and he stares at the strap of it on your bare shoulder momentarily before meeting your eyes again.

"your name. please, i-"

"it's andrew."

"andrew. andrew, i-" he almost doesn't catch the rest of your sentence. the way you say his name catches him off guard. slow and sweet and you said it twice like you're really making sure it's him. you say it as if you're happy it's him. he doesn't think he's ever heard it said like that before. "-i know this is going to sound crazy, but i really need help, um-"

and some instinct in him rises up quickly, washing over his body like a flood wave. that you need help. that you picked him to ask for it. that you seem jittery and nervous but maybe a flicker calmer than you were a moment ago. and he did that. and the satisfaction from that makes him incredibly glad he didn't leave after his last beer.

"what's wrong?" he interrupts you, but you notice it. how he sits up straighter, how his bruised hand twitches. it doesn't hover over you, yet, but he keeps it ready as though he might have to at any moment. his eyes are hyper-focused on yours. he listens to every word. and somehow, though you just walked up to the first guy you thought wasn't completely drunk, you think you're safe with him.

"this guy-" but you don't get to finish. since andrew locked eyes with you, you hadn't looked around to see if the guy that's been bothering you all night was getting closer. you couldn't find your friends and he'd used that opportunity to get right next to you and not take no for an answer. so you'd split the second he turned around, getting through the crowd as quickly as you could, wondering if maybe the bartender could help. but realizing a lesson your friends had told you a long time ago—the only no a guy like that will listen to is if it comes from another guy—you walked right up to a stranger in a black shirt instead.

"there you are-" the voice booms. you freeze mid-sentence, something andrew does not like at all. your expression changes, worry drapes over your face again, and despite andrew never being good at these things, he knows you're very uncomfortable. "was looking all over for you. where were we?"

you don't turn right away. your eyes stay locked on andrew's, taking one step closer to him.

but andrew doesn't half-ass anything. certainly not this, when you're trembling like a leaf and he can tell his drunk asshole won't stop bothering you. wordlessly, just from your pretty, worried eyes. he moves his hands to your waist—gently, but firmly. he doesn't wander them, just keeps them in place, still sitting down, moving his gaze from your eyes to the guy's.

but you worry, momentarily, that it's not enough. the asshole looks from you to andrew, to andrew's hands. before you can stop to think about it too much, you perch yourself against him, sitting on his lap. you swing your arm around his neck and keep a hand on his bicep to steady yourself. and andrew plays along perfectly, finding it too easy to bring one hand to your knee and keeping the other on your waist and look up at the guy in question.

he doesn't have to say anything. he knows that he recognizes him.

"oh," the guy starts, backing up a step right away. "i thought you were kidding about the boyfriend. you didn't say it was-"

"she wasn't," andrew says, though unbeknownst to you, he means it. "do we have a problem?"

"no, no, pope, no man. sorry about that, i'll-"

"tell her sorry." you turn your gaze from the encounter between the two men to andrew, not sure why he said that.

"i-i'm sorry-" he stumbles out, before walking away quickly. you must have picked the right guy to ask for help—he seems incredibly scared of andrew. briefly you wonder if you should be scared too.

"thank you," you say, looking back at andrew. he's looking at you too, and you don't realize how close your faces are until you can feel his breath against your cheek. he blinks up at you, not looking away. "oh, i'm sorry, i'll move-"

but his hands are firm on you, keeping you in place.

"stay." the way he says it, it doesn't feel like you have much of a choice. but you'd be an idiot to run from a man who just helped save you when you couldn't find your friends or anyone else to do so. his huge arm feels tense and taut under your hand and it's easy to melt into his grip, getting comfortable against him. you almost feel like you can trust him, like you didn't just meet him ten minutes ago.

"can i buy you another beer? to thank you?"

"yeah. sure."

[solanastark]

i can see you

summary: inspired by i can see you by taylor swift. It’s all stolen glances, quiet tension, and finally—finally—giving in to the thing they’ve both been too afraid to admit.

pairings: bucky x avenger!reader

tags/warnings: acts of service bucky, lots of unspoken pining, slight angst, fluffyyy

word count: 3.2k

A/N: ive been playing this song on repeat recently and it's about time i make a fic inspired by it. and receiving acts of service without asking literally makes my knees weak so this was such fun

"you brush past me in the hallway

and you don’t think i see it, do you?"

The Avengers compound was massive. It was far bigger than she expected. Steve was walking her through the main hall, rattling off names, locations, and protocol as she tried to keep up. Her head was still spinning from the whole "you’re one of us now" thing.

Steve led her through the sprawling Avengers compound, pointing out training rooms, the lab, and the common areas.

“So this is where most of the team hangs out,” Steve said, glancing back to make sure she was keeping up.

She nodded, taking everything in. The hum of technology, the faint clang of weights, the soft chatter from different corners.

As they rounded a corner, That’s when they passed him in the hallway.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. A shadow in the corner of her eye. His hair was a little messy, his hoodie sleeves pushed up to his elbows, metal arm glinting under the light. He was walking the other way, purposeful, eyes cast down like he had no time for anything else.

Steve paused. “Hey, Buck—”

But Bucky didn’t stop. Just kept moving, like the hallway wasn’t narrow enough to force that brief shoulder-to-shoulder proximity.

Their paths crossed briefly, and for a split second their hands brushed.

It was a quick, almost accidental touch but she felt it. Something strange, electric, like a spark under her skin.

Her breath caught. Just for a second.

Because she saw it. The glance. That flash of blue eyes darting to her, then gone before Steve could catch it.

She blinked and shook her head, blaming it on nerves. “Just my imagination,” she muttered to herself, focusing back on Steve’s words.

"i’ve been watching you for ages

and I spend my time trying not to feel it."

She wasn’t trying to fall for him.

Really, she wasn’t.

Being the new recruit on the team was hard enough—fitting in, training until she couldn’t feel her legs, trying to act like she belonged here. That was supposed to be her focus, not... him.

Not the man who barely spoke. Not the man with shadows in his eyes and a metal arm that gleamed under the fluorescent lights. Not the man who brushed past her in the hallway like she didn’t exist, even though she knew he saw her. Y/N felt it in the way his gaze lingered for just a fraction too long before darting away.

She didn’t want to read into it, didn’t want to be that girl who assumed kindness was something more. But then there were the little things.

Every morning, exactly at the same time, a steaming cup of coffee waited for her on the kitchen counter—just the way she liked it: black with a splash of cream, no sugar. It had become a small ritual she looked forward to, though she never knew who was behind it.

One morning, she reached for the cup just as Sam walked in.

“Hey,” she smiled, “thanks for always making me coffee in the mornings. You’re a lifesaver.”

Sam scratched his head, eyebrows furrowed. “Wait, me? I don’t do that. I’m more of a cereal guy anyway.”

She blinked, confused. “Really? Then… who—?”

Before she could finish, Bucky appeared around the corner, a shower towel on his shoulder and a cup of coffee in his hand. He caught her gaze, then lifted his cup slightly in a quiet toast.

“Morning,” he said softly.

He looked so soft in the morning light, his hair untamed and still slightly damp. She felt heat rise to her cheeks, heart skipping a beat.

Don't feel it.

Her favorite protein bars were always restocked after missions, even though she never mentioned them to anyone. The punching bag she liked best in the gym always seemed freshly replaced. When she struggled with a weapons malfunction during training, it mysteriously fixed itself the next day. He never said a word, never acknowledged it, but it was him. She knew.

And still, she tried not to feel it.

Because it was dangerous.

Because it was messy.

Because it was him.

And she told herself—again and again—

Don’t feel it. Don’t feel it.

“we keep everything professional

but something’s changed and I like it.”

It started with a joke. Just a stupid joke in the middle of a mission debrief, when the room was heavy with tension and exhaustion.

She hadn’t meant to make him laugh. She wasn’t even sure if he could laugh.

But she cracked something light about how Tony’s “state-of-the-art training dummies” looked like giant marshmallows, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw it—Bucky, in the corner, smiling. And then, laughing.

It wasn’t loud, barely more than a huff under his breath, but it was real. His shoulders shook, and his lips tugged up like it surprised even him.

She blinked, stunned, and grinned wide. “Did the Winter Soldier just laugh at my joke?”

His face shuttered fast. “Nope.”

“Are you smiling?” she teased, voice full of mock-incredulity.

“Nope.”

“Bucky Barnes, you are smiling—”

“Drop it.”

She grinned, eyes sparkling as the tension in the room softened.

Their gazes lingered for a moment. She didn't know she could bring out this side of him.

Later that night, she came back from a quick sparring session with Natasha, bruises blooming along her side. She kept telling herself it was fine, just another part of the job, but when she stepped into the compound’s dim kitchen for a water bottle, she found Bucky already there, standing by the fridge.

His gaze narrowed when he saw her wince. “What happened?” He's been speaking to her more often. As time passes, the urge to get closer to her only grows.

“Just a sparring thing. It’s fine,” she said, waving it off.

“Sit down,” he muttered, already pulling an ice pack from the freezer. She sat on top of the counter, watching his eyebrows furrow in concern.

He placed himself in front of her, too damn close for professional. Bucky's arms rested on either side of the counter top. She tried to avoid his piercing gaze.

"Are you going to remove your jacket or are we going to stay here all night?" his voiced laced with sarcasm. Y/N noticed that he's unmoving, she surrenders with a sigh.

She cautiously unzipped her sparring jacket, revealing her sports bra and the purple spots on her side. Her breath caught. She wanted to tell him she could handle it, wanted to remind herself this was professional. But the way his fingers ghosted over the bruises, careful and gentle like she was made of glass, sent something cracking inside her.

“You’re too stubborn,” he muttered, pressing the ice pack against her skin.

She tried not to shiver. Tried not to feel it.

“Just professional,” she whispered under her breath, almost like a prayer.

He didn’t say anything. But his hand lingered on her side a second longer than necessary, and she wondered if he was thinking the same thing.

She carefully pressed the ice pack against the bruised side of her ribs. Bucky stood close by, his metal arm gently steadying her shoulder as he adjusted the pack.

“Be careful,” he murmured, his voice low and rough—far from the usual guarded tone.

She glanced up, catching the flicker of something unspoken in his eyes. “Thanks, but I’m tougher than I look.”

He gave a small, rare smile, but the warmth didn’t quite reach his gaze. The silence stretched between them, heavy with words neither dared say.

She swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how close they’d gotten, the faint scent of his cologne mixing with the quiet hum of the compound. Her heart picked up pace, and she realized this—this wasn’t professional anymore.

Her breath hitched as he leaned in just a little, as if to say something more, something real. Their eyes met, both searching, both hesitant.

But then—he pulled back, clearing his throat. “The ice is melting quick, I'll.. Uh— I'll get more.” he said, voice a little too light.

She let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Yet the charged air lingered, the almost-kiss hanging between them like a promise.

“They keep watchful eyes on us

so it’s best if we move fast and keep quiet.”

That was the unspoken rule of the compound, wasn’t it? Keep things tight. Keep things professional. No slipping up. No letting anyone catch the way her eyes lingered on him, or the way Bucky seemed to drift toward her without even realizing it.

But as the weeks went by, the bond between them started to grow.

It wasn’t loud or obvious. Just small things. The way he passed her an extra granola bar after a mission without a word. The way she’d always end up across from him at the table. The way her bruises seemed to heal faster when he handed her an ice pack and grumbled something soft under his breath.

One afternoon, Sam poked his head into the gym while Bucky was helping her with a combat drill.

“Yo, Barnes! Come golfing with me later. Let off some steam.”

Bucky glanced at her, almost on instinct. “Can Y/N come too?”

The room froze.

The air got so thick you could taste it. Everyone in the room turning, eyes snapping to Bucky, then to her, then back to Bucky like they were watching a soap opera play out in real time. Even the weights seemed to pause mid-swing.

Sam’s eyebrows shot up in slow motion, an unmistakable grin tugging at his lips like he knew.

Bucky caught the shift, the tension crackling like static. He cleared his throat, shifting on his feet like a man who just realized he walked into a minefield.

“I mean, you know, because she’s new and all. Could use a break from training. She’s always in here, y’know, it’s just…” His words fumbled over each other, voice trailing off into a mutter as his ears turned pink.

Sam’s grin widened.

“Sure, Barnes,” Sam said, clapping him on the shoulder with a wink. “Whatever you say, man.”

A spark in the air lingered, something they both felt but neither dared to name.

But later that night, she found herself smiling in the quiet of her room, heart racing, thinking about how Bucky’s first instinct had been to include her.

Like maybe they were more than teammates.

Maybe they were becoming something.

“What would you do if I went to touch you now?”

Bucky’s voice was raw, almost a growl. He stood in the doorway, his silhouette barely lit by the dim kitchen light, jacket half-zipped, boots still on. The air clung heavy around him, a storm barely contained. His eyes—stormy, haunted—wouldn’t meet hers.

It was late. Everyone else asleep. She’d heard the door creak open, the soft shuffle of boots on the floor. She’d been waiting, somehow knowing tonight was different.

“Bucky?” she called softly, voice a whisper in the dark.

His shoulders tensed like a wire pulled tight. She stepped closer, heart racing, and the moment he turned, it hit her like a punch to the chest.

His face was blank, but his eyes. God, his eyes were screaming.

She could see the weight pressing down on him, could feel it in the way his breath hitched, in the tremble of his hands. The blood on his knuckles, the fresh cuts across his cheek, the smudges of dirt and grime on his skin.

“I couldn’t save them,” he muttered, voice barely audible. His fists clenched. “Couldn’t—” He cut himself off, his breath shuddering out like it burned to breathe.

“The Winter Soldier isn’t meant to save.”

“Bucky, that’s not—”

“Y/N, stay back,” he warned, sharp and sudden, like a wounded animal. His metal hand flexed at his side, fingers curling into a fist so tight it trembled.

But she didn’t. Instead, she took a step closer.

And then another.

Until they were inches apart, and she reached for him, her fingers brushing his metal arm.

His breath caught—sharp, ragged, like the world had stopped.

Her voice was barely a whisper, trembling but sure.

“I’m not afraid of you.”

He flinched, his head shaking in disbelief, a thousand ghosts in his eyes. “You should be.”

“I’m not,” she said again, firmer now, her fingers curling gently around the cold vibranium, her thumb tracing the seam where metal met flesh. "I’m not leaving. Not until you understand that you’re more than what they made you."

It wasn’t just his skin she was touching. It wasn’t just the soldier. It was him. The man underneath. The one who carried all the weight and still stood.

"You’re not the Winter Soldier, Bucky. Not anymore. You’re not a weapon—they tried to make you one, but they failed. You’re a man who tries. You’re a man who cares." she searched for his eyes, the palm of her hand grazing his cheek.

"And you did save someone tonight. You did. But your not supposed to save everyone. No one is." she continued. "But you keep trying anyway and that’s what makes you good, Bucky. That’s what makes you you." her voice falters at the end, seeing the war— the inner turmoil behind his eyes.

Bucky’s chest rose and fell in a shuddering breath, and it broke. Everything he was holding in, everything he’d tried to bury. His body slumped forward, forehead pressing to hers, his breath ragged against her cheek.

His hands shook—both of them. His human one, clenched in the fabric of her shirt. His metal one, still in her grasp, her thumb brushing over the cold plates like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“I’m so tired,” he whispered, voice cracked and low. He buried his head on the crook of her neck, held her as if he was afraid of slipping away.

“I know,” she whispered back, her other hand stroking his hair gently, holding him like he wasn’t a soldier or a weapon or a burden but a man.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, he let himself be held.

“I could see you in your suit and your necktie

pass me a note saying meet me tonight…”

The gala was in full swing; strings of golden lights hanging from the ceiling, the clink of glasses, the soft hum of music blending with the buzz of laughter. Everyone dressed to the nines, sipping champagne and talking about things that didn’t really matter.

She stood by the bar, swirling her drink idly, trying to look like she wasn’t searching for him in every corner of the room. But she felt it.

His eyes.

Wherever she went—by the charity auction table, near the art displays, while laughing at something Sam said—his gaze found her. Burning. Watching. Like a magnet drawing her in.

She finally took her spot at the bar, one elbow propped up, back straight, trying to convince herself it was fine, that the knot in her stomach was just the champagne.

And then he appeared.

Bucky Barnes in a perfectly tailored suit and dark tie, looking so devastatingly good it made her breath hitch. He sat beside her without a word, casually ordering a drink like he hadn’t been staring at her all night.

“Oh, great,” she said, voice light but her heart racing, “look who finally decided to approach me after, what, hours of lurking from across the room.”

Bucky smirked, barely glancing at her. “Didn’t realize you were keeping count.”

“Hard not to when you’re practically burning a hole in the back of my head.”

He grabbed his drink from the bartender, clinking the glass lightly against the bar. “Just making sure you don’t get into trouble,” he muttered, voice low and teasing.

And then, just before turning to leave, he brushed past her, close enough that she could feel the warmth of him and slipped a folded note into her hand, so quick it was almost imperceptible.

She blinked, caught off guard, glancing down at the slip of paper crumpled in her palm.

Meet me on the balcony. Midnight.

He walked away without a backward glance, melting back into the crowd like he hadn’t just flipped her entire world upside down.

She stared after him, lips parted in surprise, a flush creeping up her neck.

And despite herself, she smiled.

“I could see you being my addiction,

you can see me as a secret mission"

The city stretched out below, a sea of shimmering lights in the dark, but the world felt small up here—just the two of them on the balcony, with the hum of the night air and the distant pulse of traffic below.

She stepped out quietly, the soft click of her heels muted against the concrete. There he was, standing at the railing, arms braced on the metal, broad shoulders tense, head bowed slightly like the weight of everything he’d ever been was pressing down on him.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Bucky muttered, barely glancing at her, but the subtle curve at the corner of his mouth gave him away.

She folded her arms, leaning back against the wall like she wasn’t letting her heart pound in her chest. “Cut to the chase, James.”

He turned fully then, caught off guard by the sound of his name in her voice, soft, steady, like a key turning in a lock he didn’t even know was there. The faint glow from the compound windows cast a halo of light across her face, and for a second, the breath hitched in his throat.

“You always do that,” he said quietly, voice rough, almost like he was saying it to himself.

“Do what?”

“Make me forget everything else. Even when I don’t want to.”

Her breath caught, but she tried to keep her cool. “You’re not making any sense, Barnes.”

He exhaled sharply, shoving a hand through his hair, metal fingers glinting in the low light. “I’m not good at this.”

Her voice softened, and she stepped closer. “Try.”

He looked at her then—really looked. His eyes, usually guarded and distant, were wide open now, reflecting the city lights. His voice dropped, raw and quiet, like a confession dragged from the depths.

“I thought I’d be cold forever. But then you came along, and it’s like you lit a fire in me. You made me feel human again.”

Her breath hitched, eyes searching his. “Bucky…”

He reached out, hesitant, brushing a knuckle down her cheek like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to. “It scares the hell out of me. Because I didn’t think I’d ever feel like this again. Didn’t think I deserved it.”

Her hand lifted, fingers curling gently around the edges of his metal arm, grounding him. “You do.”

And then she smiled—soft, knowing, a little sad—and it cracked something wide open inside him.

“I thought it was just me,” she whispered. “I thought I was seeing things that weren’t there. You, doing all those little things, always watching out for me. I tried not to feel it, but I couldn’t help it. I see you, Bucky. Even when you think I don’t.”

He exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing, a small, crooked smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Getting here—standing here with you—it felt like a secret mission I never thought I’d complete.”

Her laugh was breathless, disbelieving. “You like me, don’t you?”

He swallowed hard, a flicker of boyish uncertainty in his expression. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

Her grin grew, and before he could say another word, she surged forward and kissed him. Soft but sure, like she wasn’t afraid of the weight of what this meant.

When they pulled apart, he rested his forehead against hers, voice barely a whisper.

“I could see you being my weakness.”

She smirked, eyes sparkling. “Your addiction, you mean.”

He chuckled softly, brushing a thumb over her cheek. “Yeah. That too.”

The night air was cool against her skin, but his breath was warm shaky and soft, a quiet confession in itself as they stood there, forehead to forehead, with the sounds of the city below.

Her hands slid down his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath the layers of his suit, and she smiled, soft, a little bit in awe, a little bit in disbelief.

“I guess we’re not very good at the whole keeping it professional thing, huh?” she whispered. Bucky’s chuckle rumbled low in his chest, the sound of it curling around her like a safety net. “Never stood a chance, sweetheart.”

The tension that had been coiled so tight between them for weeks finally broke, and it felt like a dam bursting like every glance, every small moment had been leading to this.

“I should probably—” she started, stepping back, but he caught her wrist, gentle but firm, as if he wasn’t ready to let go yet.

“Stay,” he murmured, his voice rough like gravel, but the way he said it so soft under his gruff voice made her heart stutter.

She hesitated for a beat, then nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Okay.”

They stood there for a moment, the world humming quietly around them. Bucky’s fingers found hers, their hands brushing again but this time, neither of them pulled away.

He squeezed her hand, like a silent promise, and she squeezed back.

When they finally went back inside, it wasn’t with a rushed, secretive energy anymore—it was quiet, deliberate.

This time, it wasn’t hiding.

This time, they knew.

[radiohao]

yushi swears he has an “obvious” crush on you, but you're in major denial

pairings: tokuno yushi x f!reader

genre: fluff, crack, uni!au, soccerplayer!yushi, bulletpoint fic, oblivious!yn, ft. ive rei, sion, riku, friends-to-lovers

warnings: REDO OF THIS FIC, mentions of reader getting sick, one joke abt kidnapping, a mention of a broken wrist but it's not in detail, mentions of getting drunk, not proofread

wc: 2.7k

—

lately, you've been developing an unHEALTHY obsession with the new transfer student, tokuno yushi

he's in your econ class and came in from japan last semester

you still remember him walking in with a gray sweater, dark washed jeans, and soft, tousled raven black hair

and of course you remember you two locking eyes

u swore you were hearing wedding bells imMEdiately

you looked away so fast your neck probably cracked a little

thank god you sat in the back of the room because then you can just stare at this god-given sPECimen every day for an hour

well... nOw he sits right next to you...

it was... an interesting story, to say the least

— flashback —

you're barely awake and class only begun five minutes ago

wHY did you let rei convince you to play roblox obbies with her at 3AM?? half the world is ASLEEP at that time

and now you're suffering the consequences because your eyelids feel like they weigh 10 pounds

you got an americano since you assumed it'd wake you up, but it's so bitter you can't take another sip without scrunching your face in disgust

u should've gotten a frappe instead

your professor clears her voice before speaking

"good morning everyone! with the new semester starting, i thought it'd be nice if we all compress so it's easier to hear. as you may know, i recently got a surgery done in my throat, therefore i can't speak at loud volumes as it strains it-"

you roll your eyes and softly groan at the announcement

oh lord PLEASE you do not want to be sat with some gUy-

"y/n, may you please sit up here at the front next to yushi? thank you."

wHAT??? oh nonono well now u regret ever thinking that because yushi is not just some GUY!!

you mumble curses as you grab your things and make your way to where yushi is sitting

when you get there, his bag is on the seat next to him, which u assUME is your seat

he looks at you just standing there stupidly and his eyes widen before he takes his bag

"oh, sorry." you wave him off and sit next to him

your professor moves some more people to the front before starting her lecture

ykw this is perfect!! you're in the front so u hear her better and won't... fall.... asleeeeeppp.......

your eyes are drooping and your head jerks forward

crap nO not now

you need to take a sip out of your americano- ZZZzZzZzZzZz

—

so you blacked out.

goddAMNIT

you're woken up when someone lightly squeezes your shoulder

"wake up y/n, lecture is over."

"augpghgnm five more minutes plEAse.."

"okay." oh really? okay period!! that usually doesn't work but hey you'll take it! and whoever this is has a cotton candy-like voice that easily puts you back to sleep again

five minutes pass by and your shoulder is being squeezed again

you FORCE your eyes open before you get drowsy again and once u make eye contact with "cotton candy voice" you nearly fall off your chair

tokuno yushi is sitting next to you with his hand on your shoulder

"i'm sorry, did i startle you?" he says softly

you're like ??? what what what

"no, you're good! thanks for giving me a couple extra minutes to sleep," you say with a laugh

he chuckles and shakes his head, saying "don't worry about it. you seemed tired anyway. i'm gonna head out now- oh, also, make sure to check your notebook."

yushi slings his bag over his shoulder and you just nod as he talks (you're losing focus because of how good he looks rn)

"'m yushi, by the way. see you." he waves goodbye and leaves the room

you open your notebook and see that he wrote down notes for you during the lecture

ur eyes are glued to a little note he put in the corner saying "sorry my handwriting sucks lol" and your first coherent thought is I AM IN LOVE WITH THIS MAN

but then you're also like why did he do that in the first place???

he was probably just being nice since you looked so pathetically tired

yeah that's it

— flashback over —

safe to say you would do anything for tokuno yushi

he tells you to do his homework for him? you'd do it. he says to throw out all your clothes? everything is in the dump already. he asks you to jump off a cliff? you're already falling off the ledge.

well now you and yushi are friends.. sort of

you talk every class and text each other

and when you found out he was on the soccer team he asked you to come to his games, and ever since then you've been going to each one

but it's just that sometimes he does things that make your heart jump and your cheeks warm up

like that one time he gave you his jacket after class because it was raining, saying he "didn't want you to catch a cold"

or that other time when he came to your dorm after his game with snacks beause you said you weren't feeling well

you feel like you should believe that he likes you but it just seems too good to be true!!

and if you're being honest there's so many other girls that line up at his door every day, so it wouldn't make sense for him to choose you!!

this man is making you go clinically insane

and rei keeps telling you HE DOES LIKE U GIRL but ur just like no... i don't tHINk so...

you're torn because there are signs that maybe he does feel the same but when you think about his popularity and how much of a wanted bachelor he is, you feel your confidence start to crumble

maybe you should just give up on your man because there is NO WAY he likes you

—

yushi is going to rip his hair out of his head

WHY is it so difficult to ask a girl out?????

truth is, he's liked you since the day he saw you

it was like wedding bells were ringing in his head and he was like YEP this is the mother of my kids right here

the first time he tried to make a move on you was when you were asked to sit next to him

he silently pumped his fist under the table like Y E S this is my chance

and he thought u looked so pretty while sleeping

yushi secretly moved some of your hair behind your ear because he could see it was bothering you, but he didn't tell you as to not sound creepy

and he's pretty proud of his status with you now, but he really wishes you'd just call him out for all the moves he's made on you because he's SHY

he tried to ask you out two (2) times already!!

the first time when you walked out of the lecture hall together and it started POURING

he lended you his hoodie and he was about to confess but it just so happened that rei called you

"y/n, i have something to tell you."

"what is it?" RRRRIIINGNGNG "oh, hold on. hello, rei? wHAt?! you broke your wrist??? oh my gOD- sorry, yushi i have to go.”

that's fine!!!! there's always next time!!!

the next time he tried asking you out was when you said you came down with a fever on the day of his game

horrible game by the way, he played so bad

(he never plays well when you're not there, yushi swears you're his good luck charm)

he bought all your favorite snacks and a plushie and went to your dorm after the game

you open the door wrapped in a blanket and he just wants to cuddle you-

who said that

"hi, ushi," you say with a croak to your voice, "what are you doing here?"

he smiles softly and holds up a bag

"i got you some snacks. thought you didn't eat yet."

you snicker, "how do you always know?"

"i just do."

you invite him inside and have a little chat

about an hour later, you and yushi are sat on opposite sides of the couch

yushi thinks it's now or never and takes a breath, "y/n, i have feelings for you."

hOOOOOOOnnKK SshhhOOOo

what the hell

he looks to the left and sees you snoring your ass off

and yes u look adorbs but REALLY?? he JUST mustered up the balls to confess and you're sleeping

he sighs.

yushi SWEARS his crush on you is obvious, i mean how is it not??? he lends you his stuff, listens to you talk for hours on end, talks to you more than he talks to his own teammates, and buys you small gifts all the time

LITERALLY EVERYONE KNOWS TOO

like the soccer team, the girls that like him, even his younger brother

he'll just have to give it another shot

third time's the charm, i guess

—

okay, yushi has officially devised a plan

well, technically it's his, riku, and sion's plan

basically what's going to happen is yushi invites you to the upcoming soccer game (to which you always go anyway), and when they win the game, he will offer a ride home to you and confess in the car with flowers and a plushie

sion suggested the car thing so there are no distractions and you can't run away ("that sounds like i'm going to kidnap her," yushi deadpans. "lovingly, of course!" sion exclaims)

riku suggested the flowers and plushie so it's less creepy

so actually this isn't yushi's plan at ALL but he will sAy it's his plan anyway because he's the one confessing!!!

alright, game time. (literally)

—

you walk into the lecture hall and sense bad juju

what's going on, you think. you don't like this!!

as you head to your seat, you notice yushi isn't there in the spot next to you

okay wow so you like him so much your body just knows when he's not there??? got it

but nOO :( he's not here!!!! who are u supposed to stare at now!??!?

you grumble a little as you sit down, but you spot a little post-it note on the chair.

huh, weird

taking it off, you read the writing scratched onto the note, with lettering you recognize all too well

'sorry, skipping class today to rest for tonight's game. it'd be great if u were there, like always. have rei drop u off bc i wanna eat out w/you after. c u :) - yewshee'

you laugh at the stupid spelling of his name

he wants to eat out after??? what do you WEAR????

—

it's almost time for the game and ur STRESSING

HWAT DO YOU WEAR OH MY GOD

you settled on a cute frilly blouse and some shorts

pretty but simple (like yushi, you think)

rei drops you off (her wrist is mostly healed) and you find a seat in the middle of the stands

SMACK in the middle to be more specific

it's not rlly what you wanted but you don't mind because the front stands are full of families cheering on their sons and girls in the back cheering on their bfs

u totally don't wish that was you on the top of the stands haha

oop game is starting

you see yushi warming up and your heart swells

he looks SO good in his uniform because you can see his calves and biceps flexing

amen for soccer uniforms

—

yushi feels like he's going to crap his pants

he's already got the usual pre-game jitters, but it's even worse because he can't SEE you in the stands

where the hell are u???????

he's squinting like an idiot and riku laughs at him

"you look dumb as hell," he says

yushi smacks his back and riku winces in pain

just then he sees you, looking around

wow, you look really pretty

"she can't hear you, by the way." sion laughs

what

OH CRAP DID HE SAY THAT OUT LOUD

he groans and rolls his eyes in embarrassment

their coach tells them that the game is going to start soon

at least yushi knows he'll win now, since you're there

—

they won

is yushi surprised? not at all

he KNEW it from the moment he saw your face

now it's time for the next part of the plan: get you in his car

okay that doesn't sound weird at all

um but it's kind of hard trying to get you when there's a swarm of people around him congratulating him

PLEASE he just needs to get to his (soon-to-be) girl

he practically shoves everyone out of the way and heads to the parking lot

thank god you're already there, leaning against the hood of his car

"sorry, i was held back a bit," he starts

you smile and omg yushi thinks he's gonna faint

"it's okay. but congrats!! you guys did so good, as always."

the two of you open the car and sit inside

"i'm excited! i didn't eat dinner yet since you said we'd be going out- hello why are you not starting the car" you say

"y/n, i have something to tell you." he says cautiously

your head tilts to the side and you gesture for him to continue

he pulls out the flowers and plushie from the backseat and you softly gasp

the bouquet is beautiful, full of your favorite flowers

yushi clears his throat and leans forward a bit

"i have feelings for you. i've liked you for around... 5 months now? but yeah, i thought i'd let you know. if you don't feel the same way, it's okay, we can just move past it. the last thing i want is for you to be uncomfortable, which is now making me realize that i probably shouldn't have done this in the car because it seems weird-"

he's basically rambling at this point but he doesn't cARE he just needs to get it all out before he bails out on himself

"you... like... me??" you question

yushi nods with a small smile on his face

"are you sure? i mean, like, why me?"

"i just feel so comfortable and safe around you. i love how independant, thoughtful and selfless you are, and how you always appreciate the small things in life. i love how genuine you are, because it never makes me feel like i'm being judged or lied to- it just feels real. you always think about others before yourself, and that makes me want to be the person to take care of you."

wow you did not expect that

yushi just kinda stares at u because he didn't expect to say that himself either

haha that's so sweet of him,,, oh god,,,,, this is a LOT to take in

why do you feel lightheaded and why is your vision going black

um what's happeni-

—

so you passed out

maybe it was the shock or the mental stress of the situation but you BLACKED OUT

you wake up to yushi fanning you with some random papers from his backpack that he hurriedly took out

he even has a hand on your wrist to check if you still have a pulse lmao

he freaked OUT when he saw all the color drain from your face

"hey- you okay?" he asks worriedly

you chuckle weakly and sit up, brushing the hair out of ur face

"yeah, sorry i just- i guess i was just surprised."

"did you want me to take you home? or to urgent care?"

"nO- i'm good, i swear, yushi. i just- it was a lot to take in. i didn't think someone like you would like someone like me, but i shouldn't have doubted you. i feel the same way. that was really sweet of you- this whole confession was, to be honest. i don't mind you being the one to take care of me. i want that, actually. i want that with you."

you two are just staring at each other like haha what do we do now

yushi leans forward even more and cups your cheek with his palm gently

"can i kiss you?"

GOD and he asks for consent, how perfect can he get??

"of course."

he presses his lips against yours and they mold together so perfectly it's like he was made to kiss you

when he pulls away you just look at each other fondly

"oh, and y/n?"

"hm?"

"please don't pass out on me like that again, i almost got a heart attack."

you laugh and rub the back of his hand softly

"no promises."

— bonus —

at the diner, you facetime rei and tell her the news

"GOD, FINALLY!!! i nEVer thought this day would come — thank you for having the balls to ask her out, yushi-" she's squealing so much on the other side of the phone she literally starts lagging

riku and sion just laugh at her reaction

"you know," sion starts, "yushi got drunk once and was ranting about you-"

"oh my GOD i remember that!! he was like 'y/n, i looooveeee youuuu...' i think i have a video, actually-" riku adds

"god, please don't." your bf says, massaging his temples

you laugh

he's so cute

—

author's note: hiii!! i loved this banner so much i thought it deserved a better fic to go with it haha so here we go :) have a good day/night everyone!

[cloudystevie]

pavlov's dog

»» ──────ஓ๑ ღ ๑ஓ ────── ««

pairing || mob boss!bucky barnes x f!reader

word count || 1812

summary || he kept you waiting and it's his honour to make it up to you.

warnings || smut! loosely depicted mafia business, daddy kink, oral fem receiving, pet names, begging, mild degradation, dacryphilia, pussy slaps, cmnf, subspace, dom!bucky

author's note || 18+ ONLY. hi. i haven't written for more than a year and a half. ive been feeling some type of way about bucky and maybe getting back to writing mindless porn is what i needed to get my creative fulfillment ive been severely lacking. please don't mind the potentially choppy smut as i haven't written in a long while. feel free to reblog and leave comments!!

»» ──────ஓ๑ ღ ๑ஓ ────── ««

8:53.

8:53 PM, and you were still waiting for Bucky to finish his meeting. A recent competitor was threatening Bucky’s monopoly in New York, apparently, something to do with some guy who owned a publishing company inherited by his grandpa, who was looking to buy one Bucky already owned.

Whatever. You weren’t really listening when Bucky was talking about it over the phone because you were too busy keeping his cock warm.

You watch the digital clock flash another minute, and finally, your phone dings with an activity notification at the front door. Before you can try to be chill about it, you all but run to the door to greet your man, practically jumping on the balls of your feet with excitement. The door swings open, and you barely glimpse Bucky's tired and frustrated expression before it morphs into a sweet smile reserved for you, making his eyes crinkle at the corners and shine. 

Running into his arms, you koala hug him as you nuzzle your nose into his neck. He expertly toes his shoes off while showering you with the same attention. “Were you waiting by the door for me the whole time, baby?” He asks with a smile.

Nodding your head yes and widening your eyes while twisting your lips into a pout, you decide to play the sweet, patient girlfriend who Bucky knows you really aren’t. “You kept me waiting for 4 whole hours, Jamie, 4 hours. I stood right by this door and didn’t take a single break until you came home.” 

A hearty laugh escapes his lips at that, and you can feel the tension from his shoulders leaving as you gently rub them while still managing to cling onto him as he maneuvers you two to your bedroom. Unfortunately, both of you are well aware that patience is a virtue that you very simply do not possess.

“My poor, incredibly patient and honest baby. How rude of me to keep you waiting like this, huh?” He keeps his voice low, both in pitch and volume. It sends a tangible shiver down your spine as he sets you down on the bed. You bite your bottom lip, subconsciously spreading your legs, unable to hide your reactions from him.

Bucky loves how responsive you are to him.

“So mean to me daddy.” You whisper, “need you to make it up to me.”

Bucky licks his lips and clenches his jaw because fuck he needed this, especially after being stuck at his office for nearly 4 extra hours while you were at home looking like this. So sweet and soft and submissive for him; all he needed was someone to control because his empire in New York was being tried.

But Bucky had it under control. He always did. This wasn’t the first time he had to deal with a newcomer who decided to get a little ballsy and try and take over some of his territory.

He always did fuck you more aggressively when work had more hiccups than usual.

“Yeah, honey baby? How do you want Daddy to make it up to you? Use your words.” Bucky’s tone kept dropping, getting deeper and deeper with each delicious word he spoke to your somehow already foggy brain.

Even while he was giving you some control, he managed to maintain dominance over you, and that just flared the heat pulsing between your thighs.

“Need you, daddy, want your mouth.” You whisper, heat spreading your cheeks as you voice what you want, but a surge of pride goes through Bucky. At the beginning of the relationship, you had really struggled with voicing what you wanted, whether it was something like telling him you didn’t feel like getting dolled up to eat at a luxury French restaurant and wanted some burgers instead or how you struggled to say to him you wanted him to take his shoes and coat off before he came inside your apartment and sat on your couch. He dealt with people who feared him every day, people who never corrected him or crossed him. It was made abundantly clear you are not one of those people; you need to tell him what to do and how to do it, and he will. Bucky would bring the moon and the stars to you if the thought ever crossed your mind.

Dropping to his knees will have to do for now, he thinks.

His large palms spread your thighs as your pliant body falls back, but you prop yourself up on your elbows to watch the show. Bucky smiles at you with hunger in his eyes as he licks his lips once again while gingerly sliding your pajama shorts down your legs. You inhale sharply as the cool air from the open balcony doors hits your core. Bucky can’t help the rumble emerging from his chest as takes in your already wet pussy, bringing his thumb up to flick your swollen clit and messily run the tip of his finger around your pussy.  “You were waiting for me without any panties on? You’re that fucking desperate for me, sweetheart? Ready to bend over for me as soon as I walk through the door?”

You whimper at his fingers and throw your head back, nodding it desperately fast. 

“Aww, don’t go quiet on me now,” Bucky teases, “you were being such a good girl telling me what you want. Don’t stop now, angel baby.”

You whine high in your throat as you tug on his hand that is still purposefully brushing over your clit, “Please, Daddy, just- just-” 

Before you can finish your plea, Bucky licks up your slit, expertly swirling his tongue around your clit as your thighs jolt around his head, and a surprised mewl leaves your lips. “Oh god, Daddy, need more, please more,” your hands reach out to grab onto whatever you can, one hand gripping Bucky’s hair, making him hiss and buck his own hips against his tight slacks while the other latches onto the silk bedsheets.

“Greedy girl,” Bucky hums against your pussy, but to your delight, he indulges you, slipping a thick finger into your pulsing hole. Still, before you have time to react to that, he’s wrapping his lips around your swollen clit for the first time tonight and sucks on it. Making your back arch up and your legs quake as you try to simultaneously push yourself away from him but pull him closer. A near-pornographic moan leaves your swollen lips as your chest heaves. You cry out his title as he slides another long finger inside you, hollowing his cheeks as he sucks on your poor little clit and soothes it with kitten licks every few seconds.

“Oh Daddy, you’re gonna- fuck, you’re gonna make me cum please, Daddy, please can I cum!” You babble, drool seeping from your lips as Bucky always manages to reduce you to a mindless, pathetic mess. It had never been easy for you to stop or slow down your orgasm, as Bucky always tended to barrel it out of you. Although you had noticed that the high that spread through your body when he permitted it was much more euphoric than the orgasms that slipped out of you.

Maybe it was something akin to Pavlov’s dog effect. Conditioning.

Bucky was aware of this fact as well. He knew your body, your mind, better than you did. 

A satisfied smirk works itself onto his lips, and he grumbles something against your sensitive cunt, enjoying the way you struggled to keep your body at bay. “I dunno, my stupid little baby, dunno if you’re desperate enough yet.” Bucky’s words vibrate against you and propel you towards your high even quicker. Your whines get more high-pitched and breathy as you struggle against your boyfriend’s relentless tongue. “I am Daddy, I am desperate. Always am for you, please, Daddy, make me cum.” You whine a bit petulantly as your orgasm is right there. But he’s dangling it above your head and forcing you to obey him. So, you try the guilt-tripping route.

Tears well in your eyes, and your lip quivers, “Please, Daddy, don’t you wanna make me cum? Don’t you wanna take care of me? Make me cum all over your tongue and make a mess? Please, Daddy, need you so bad!” You cry, tears slipping down your face, and Bucky grunts, closing his eyes as he tries not to cum in his pants at the sound of your breathy pitch and the sight of tears slipping down your face.

He pulls back and curves three fingers toward your special spot, and takes his other hand to slap at your swollen clit in quick succession, making you squeal. Arousal paints your thighs as he quickly switches back to overstimulate your poor button by sucking on it so hard that your orgasm squirts onto his bearded face, making him groan in appreciation as he mumbles something like: “That’s it, there’s my good girl making a fucking mess like Daddy taught you.” But you are too out of your mind to really process his words as you struggle to breathe down from your high, tears slipping down your face as you bask in the overwhelming feelings of such an intense orgasm. 

Bucky kisses up your thighs and stomach, easing his fingers out and tongue away slowly so you don’t go from overstimulated to zero all at once. He cups your face in his hands and kisses your cheeks as he shushes you, bringing you down from your high with soft words and coos that appeal to your clouded brain. You cup his much larger hands in yours, pouting your lips up for a kiss, and he chuckles before placing a soft kiss against your swollen lips. He can taste the salt from your tears, and it sends even more blood rushing straight to his dick as he ruts his hips against yours, making you pull your lips apart on a mewl. 

“Daddy, will you fuck me now?” You ask with a certain lilt to your voice. Bucky scoffs before pressing his lips to yours and rumbling against your lips, “You’re an insatiable little whore you know that?” 

Manhandling you to the top of the bed, he throws you against the pillows as unbuttons his slacks and pulls his hard cock out, pre-cum oozing from the swollen red tip as he looks like he could destroy you. “I’m your little whore daddy.” You tease, spreading your shaky legs apart, and he licks his lips.

—--------

Bucky worked from home the next morning. Needing the extra time to make up for the late nights and the particularly strenuous activities that led into the early morning hours. 

As you sat on his lap, peacefully dozing in and out of sleep, he knew he had made the right choice that morning.