#steve x bucky series

[reigningqueenofwords]

The Scrawny Kid

Pairing: past Steve x Tony

Part 1 of Housemates

Bucky double checked his phone before running through the house again. It had to be perfect for the possible housemate he hoped to have. He had gone through three so far and none of them appeased him. Nat promised she knew a guy but he wasn’t feeling hopeful. He felt she just found someone to make up for her abrupt departure. He wasn’t “angry” with her, but he wasn’t happy, either. She had suddenly decided to move in with her boyfriend. She knew how he felt about strangers. He could’ve moved out too but he was halfway through paying it off and he really loved this house. 

The doorbell rang so he rushed downstairs and ran a hand through his hair before opening it. He noted that Nat failed to tell him how attractive this guy was. “Bucky?” The man asked.

Bucky stared a bit too long before nodding. “Yeah. James. But, Bucky works.” He moved to the side. 

He walked in and held out his hand. “Steve.” He introduced himself. “Nat said you were looking for a housemate, and I just moved back to town.”

Bucky swallowed and nodded. He was not good with meeting new people but he had to try. Especially with this guy! “Uh….tour?” He offered, eating a heart stopping smile. 

“That would be awesome.” He agreed. “Is there anything you’d like to know since I’m a possible housemate?” 

Bucky nodded, luckily having memorized this part. “Will your job require you to work at home?” He began. “If so, are you okay with developing a schedule?” 

“I work part time in landscaping, and I’m an artist.” He shrugged. “I can easily do my art in my room, so I won’t bother you.” 

“O-Oh I was…more worried about bothering you.” Bucky tugged at his hair, a nervous habit. “I work on cars and sometimes I work here. Nat worked evenings so it worked out.” 

Steve shook his head. “That’s really cool.” He told him. “It won’t bother me at all. Promise. My ex, the one I just left, was noisy. I learned to tune it out. He was always messing with gadgets and stuff.” 

He sucked in a breath and nodded. “Gadgets can be loud.” He internally winced and motioned for him to follow him through the house. “Are you a clean guy?” He asked. 

He followed him easily. “Aside from my paint stained jeans? Yes.” He chuckled. “What, if anything, has Nat told you about me?” He was curious. 

“Not as much as I would’ve liked.” Bucky admitted. He meant since he wasn’t good with fresh faces. 

Steve frowned slightly at that. “Well, I’m pretty much an open book.” He offered. “I don’t really party much, not huge on drinking a lot…” 

“Oh.” Bucky nodded. “Nat did those things so that’s okay.” He assured. “This would be your room.” He opened the door. “Has your own closet and all that.” He pointed before Steve stepped in to give it a quick look. “Payments technically due at the end of the month but if that doesn’t line with when you get paid, we can figure something out.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Washer and dryer is in the basement.” 

Steve nodded and looked at him. “Backyard?” He asked softly. 

“Right.” Bucky went to show him. They stood outside, and Bucky kept his hands in his pockets. “That neighbor tends to ‘peek’ if I’m out here shirtless, but never paid attention to Nat when she was out here in a bathing suit. She’s an older lady that’s always been pretty nice so I’ve never bothered her.” He pointed to the house that was behind his. 

Steve automatically grinned. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He chuckled. 

Bucky tried to wrack his brain for anymore questions. “Do you h-have anything you’d like to ask me?” He asked, glancing at him. 

He thought for a moment. “Are you seeing anyone? So in case I run into someone in the kitchen one morning I’m prepared?” He asked.

Bucky shook his head. “No. Not seeing anyone.” He tugged at his hair again. “You?” He paused. “Never mind…” He remembered that he just said that he just left his ex. 

Steve chuckled. “It’s okay.” He assured. “Do you maybe want to have a drink together to get to know each other? I don’t know if you’ve had other applicants, but I’d like to make my case that I would be a decent housemate.” He really wanted this. “I can grab us a pizza if you’d prefer?”

Bucky widened his eyes. “Oh, uh.” He swallowed. “Lemonade?” He pointed inside. “I can make lemonade.” He told him. “If that’s okay? Unless you’re allergic?”

He shook his head. “Lemonade sounds great.” He pulled out his phone. “What kind of pizza do you like?” He asked. “Crust and all that?” He smiled at him. 

Bucky was sure he was going to pass out with how cute this guy was. “Anything you like.” He nodded. “I’m not picky.” He shrugged, motioning for Steve to follow him back inside. He went to wash his hands and got started on the lemonade. He really did like making it from scratch. 

Steve sat and ordered quickly. “Are there any turn offs that you don’t like in a roommate?” He wanted to make sure he didn’t have any of those quirks that would make this not work. 

Bucky hummed as he worked. He tried to think of anything Nat did that was ‘annoying’. “Nothing off the top of my head, honestly. I mean, maybe warn me if you’re going to have someone over? Her and Clint could get kinda...loud…”

“Oh, of course.” He promised. “I can bring my own stuff, right? I have a lot of gardening tools and some furniture. Art supplies…” He ran a hand through his hair. “Sure, a lot of my stuff can go in my room, but my gardening stuff, I mean?” 

“Should be fine. I’ll show you the garage once I’m done? Sorry, should’ve shown you right away. We also have that small shed that you’re welcome to.” He blushed as it sounded like he had already agreed. He seemed the best fit, honestly. “Aside from Nat, do you have any friends around here? Maybe I know them.”

Steve smiled. “My friend Sam might help me move in. Wanda and Carol visit once in a while. I also have a friend who likes to pop in, Thor.” He went on. “Most of Nat’s friends are my friends. My ex, Tony, is still kind of a friend. But we haven’t seen each other since we broke up. We kinda just check in with each other every now and then. He texts to ask if I’m remembering to ‘loosen up’, and I text him to remind him to get more than two hours of sleep a night.”

Bucky grew shyer. This guy seemed so outgoing. “I’ve heard of Carol and Thor.” He casually mentioned. “Oh. Stark?” He turned and looked at him. “I know him. Used to work for him.” He turned back to juicing the lemons. “A few years back.” 

“Nat and I agree Thor and Carol should date.” He chuckled. “Neither agree, clearly.” He told him. “Small world, then. Wonder if we ever happened to be in the same building at the same tim.”

“They would.” Bucky agreed. “Probably. I never went to any events though. Too fancy for me. I just did some computer work for him.” He shrugged like it was nothing. 

“Yeah, his events can be a bit much.” He nodded. “Sometimes I just would have him go alone. Not my scene.”

Bucky was relieved at that. Maybe he wouldn’t have an issue with his shyness? He continued to finish the drink before pouring some over ice. “Here you go.” He handed him the glass. 

Steve smiled and took it. “Thanks.” He sipped it. “It’s good. Almost as good as my ma used to make.” 

Bucky blushed. “That’s a high compliment. Mom’s always do it best. There was a family on my block that used to do lemonade stands all the time. Best lemonade ever.” He sat down with his own glass. He chuckled. “My mom would always go get a couple glasses. I think she felt bad. He was a scrawny little guy.” 

Steve tilted his head. “That’s funny. I used to do lemonade stands all the time. Wanted to make my own money.” He sipped his glass. “I was scrawny.” He mentioned. “Was always sick on and off. Was surprised ma didn’t put me in a plastic bubble, honestly.” He joked. 

“You? Scrawny?” Bucky smiled, then tugged at his hair. “Where’d you grow up?” He asked, wondering. 

“Not that far from here actually.” He sipped his drink again. “Brown St about 15 minutes from here. If that.” He blinked as Bucky stared at him. “What?” 

“You’re the scrawny kid.” He was surprised. “I grew up on that street.” He stared at Steve. He couldn’t believe it. What were the odds. “That was your lemonade my mom used to go buy.” 

Steve stared back then grinned. “This was meant to be!” He chuckled. “We had to have gone to the same school?” He noted. “We’re about the same age, I’d think. Wonder if we just didn’t have any classes together.” He mused. They traded graduation years and found Bucky was just a grade above. “This is awesome. Hopefully this helps my odds?” He smiled. 

Bucky laughed. “Steve, you had the best odds even before.” He told him easily. “You’re the best one I’ve met that wants the room.”

“Does this mean I got it?” He asked, hopeful. “I really like the area and the house. Plus, you seem nice.” He complimented. “Maybe we can become friends, too.” 

Bucky took a deep breath and held out his hand. “I’m sure we can be great friends.” He smiled, yet was still feeling those nerves. 

Steve shook Bucky’s hand, feeling thankful. He’d be the best housemate he could. When the pizza came, they fell into easy conversation and both felt hopeful that it was a great match. Nat would be glad her suggestion worked out for the best.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

blushing birthday

a/n: iihhh! first story in this slutty au! felt like this was a good place to jump off from. and also, i just wanna point this out because i nearly never do and perhaps some people don’t realise it, but if you have a thought, an idea, a wish or request in this au (or any other, my inbox is always open for requests) then feel free to click on my ask button and send it my way ♡

summary: “so, what I was thinking,” you tilted your head, “was that before I go give him his present, you guys could maybe help me prep a little bit, warm me up and stretch out my ass enough to fit his big fat cock. Would you guys like that?”

warnings: various x camgirl!reader, smut, porn au, college au, roommate!bucky barnes, roommate!steve rogers, roommate!curtis everett, ex!ransom drysdale, dilf neighbour!andy barber, reader's porn name is cherry blossom (UrLittleCherry), friends with benefits, happy hippie fun poly vibes, curtis’ birthday, partying, alcohol consumption, kissing, masturbation, impact play, fingering, toys, edging, clothed sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, dirty talk, size kink, manhandling, multiple orgasms, anal, penetrative sex, unprotected sex

word count: 3953

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

sugar & spice au masterlist | 101, intro to the au

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The last rays of sunshine for the day streamed in through the half-drawn curtains and cast soft shadows across your form as you sat cross-legged on your mattress. 

With your reach outstretched towards your laptop propped up on the chair situated at the foot of your bed, you clicked on the go live button and watched as a countdown appeared on the screen, overlaying your visage staring back at you as your gaze briefly flickered around to check your gear one last time. 

Thanks to your three roommates who’d insisted on helping you upgrade your setup, there wasn’t just one, but two cameras pointing directly at you. One angle to catch all of your frame and one zoomed-in to capture a perfect close-up between your legs. 

“Hey guys!” a warm smile swiftly dazzled your features as you watched the first few people jump at your notification, “good evening or good–, whatever time of day it is for you.” 

The messages in the chat started rolling in, some with usernames you recognised and some you didn’t. 

TheFrogo: Hi Cherry! How are you? Have you had a good day so far?

DrownByPussy: Omg you’re finally live! I’ve been hard all day knowing I’d get to see you today.

“Hi Frogo, yeah, I’ve had a pretty good day, but I’m hoping that it might get even better, because I’ve got something pretty fun planned for tonight,” your hands absentmindedly fidgeted along the length of your legs as you spoke, “so, today is a friend of mine’s birthday and–, wait,” you paused and leaned in closer to catch a better look of the scrolling messages, “I haven’t seen you write in the chat yet, but birthday boy, if you’re here, you better log off right now or you’ll ruin your surprise,” you warned, glancing straight into the camera, “I’ll give you five seconds get off,” a pointer finger then kissed each of your digits as you counted down, “five… four… three… two… one,” you squinted a moment longer before a giggle bubbled out, “okay, so now that it’s just us, I can tell you what I’ve got planned,” you switched up your seat, moving your legs to comfortably kneel on the mattress with your frame slightly turned at an angle for you to better see the screen, but retroactively grant everyone a view of the curve of your spine as the line swooped down over your waist and blossomed into the plush of your ass, sinfully on display in the pastel blue, mesh lingerie you wore, “there is one thing in particular that he has just been begging for… any guesses?”

A_B_Cunt_Destroyer: Hmm… is it a particular fantasy? A little bit of roleplay action? 

8inchStallion: Threesome? 

“Nope. All fun suggestions, but no.”

TittyCokeKingXXX: Is it to bang in public?

Cream314159: How about anal? 

“Cream! Yes! You guessed it!” you excitedly threw your hands up in the air, “it is anal that he’s been dreaming about.”

Ddadddy6969: I mean, who can blame him.

ItsBradBtch: Fucking same.

TearinYoBootyUp: Wish it was my birthday today so you’d let me fuck your tight little ass.

“So, what I was thinking,” you tilted your head, “was that before I go give him his present, you guys could maybe help me prep a little bit, warm me up and stretch out my ass enough to fit his big fat cock. Would you guys like that?”

KyleKyleson: Yes!

UrPervyDaddy398: Hell yeah, let’s get you ready to take that monster cock.

Casting a glance out of the nearby window, your eye couldn’t help but catch sight of the neighbouring house. It didn’t look like the divorced dad who resided there was home, though you still nevertheless searched for him. You weren’t completely clueless to his infatuation with you, though it had almost turned into a game, always trying to catch him peeping at you through the windows, or even taking it further by purposely wearing something skimpy when you’d go get the mail or other activities where you would know you’d bump into him. You didn’t judge him to be the type of man to ever really do anything about it, to actually reach out and grasp a wet dream of a girl so much his junior, but the teasing had become too much fun for you to stop, you were too far gone to draw the curtains closed now. 

As a quiet jingle sounded from your speakers, indicating that someone had tipped you, your gaze flickered back towards the computer screen. 

A_B_Cunt_Destroyer: Is that the underwear set I bought you off your wishlist? You look even more gorgeous in it than I imagined.

“Oh, thanks A,” you let your palms graze down over the thin mesh, feeling your pussy clench as your touch brushed over your nipples poking through the baby blue material, “yeah, it is. It matches the dress I’m planning on wearing tonight, so I thought I’d be cute.”

Call_Me_Sir_844: Turn around, Cherry. Let us see it from the back.  

“Yes, sir, of course,” you chuckled lightly before shifting around, purposely arching your back as you glanced over your shoulder. 

729AlwaysHard: How is your ass even real?

Like1OfUrFrenchGrls: Damn, that butt is just begging for a spanking.

Raking your touch down your sides, you smirked, “oh, you want me to spank my ass?” before the jingle of a tip echoed from the computer, “alright, baby,” and like a cat, your frame scooped down, gliding on to all fours and sticking your bottom high up in the air, “how many do you think? Let’s say, highest tipper gets to decide, but please, be kind, I still have to be able to dance the night away tonight.”

TittyCokeKingXXX tipped $50 – 10 spanks, with a paddle

BootyLover47 tipped $35 – 4 spanks

MrHansen tipped $100 – 6 spanks 

“Thank you guys,” you wiggled playfully for them, “and Mr. Hansen, wow, thank you so much!” you squeaked ecstatically, “well, I guess I better start counting then.” 

After each smack your palm landed on your propped-up bottom, the coinciding number rolled off your lips till your ass was tingling and sore for all your viewers to see. 

WinterIsCumming: Fuck, just seeing your little pussy through those panties… they’re soaked, aren’t they?

Gliding a hand down between your legs, your fingertips ghosted over the sheer fabric that clung to your core.

“They are, Winter,” you blinked up at the camera, “man, I wish you were here to give me a hand.”

NastyBoi: Show us that pretty little pussy, come on, don’t be shy now.

“You want me to take my underwear off for you? Take them off so that I can really play?”

And with the chimes of tips swiftly ringing in your ears, one of your fingers then hooked in the gusset and carefully peeled it to the side, letting it act as a frame as you momentarily teased them with just a glimpse of your glistening folds, before you slowly slid them off completely. 

Eventually, after your slick digits had gotten a chance to warm you up and tease you till you were practically buzzing on both of the camera angles that now displayed you, as it hadn’t taken you very long till you switched to a split screen, both your face frozen in a silent moan and your pretty holes drooling for attention pressed up against one another, side by side on the stream, your fingers then reached for a toy, the pretty glass dildo you had picked out just before the show.

You first popped the toy in your mouth as you flipped around and relaxed back against your pile of pillows. Letting your gaze flicker over the downright filthy comments rolling across the screen, you sucked on the toy for a bit before pulling it out and letting it float down south. 

“Fuck,” your eyes fluttered slightly as you rubbed the tip gently against your little rosebud, “oh, that feels so good.” 

Cream314159: Yeah, Cherry, tease that little ass like a good slut.

8inchStallion: Fuck, you’re gonna make me blow my load soon if you keep looking like that. 

Ddadddy6969: Has your fuck buddy really never had your ass before? Tbh kinda hard to believe considering what a whore you are for all of us. I love your anal shows, they’re always my favourite. 

“I know, daddy,” a light giggle tore through your form, “I’m honestly kinda surprised as well, but no, it hasn’t happened yet.” 

BongDong420: Wait, are you an anal virgin? Plot twist. 

“No, no, I’m not, I love anal,” you sucked in a gentle gasp as you let just the tip of the toy breach your tight opening, “I just haven’t really done it yet with too many different people. Actually, I’ve only done it with one so far, now that I think about it,” you swiftly shook your head and forced your eyes to flicker to the messages to rid your thoughts of your ex. 

Call_Me_Sir_844: Please open your mouth, I’m gonna cum!

“Oh, yes, please cum for me, sir,” you answered the comment and then let your lips part wide. As your tongue stuck out as well, a string of saliva soon dripped down as you waited, the spit colliding with your tits and running down your cleavage. 

A_B_Cunt_Destroyer tipped $550 – Don’t let yourself cum. Edge yourself so that you can be all drippy and dumb for him like a good little present should be. 

Since you and your roommates lived in a residential area too quiet for college ragers, some of the guys Steve and Bucky were on the football team with offered to throw the bash at their fraternity. 

Music blared, nearly making the entire house rumble, as you walked around the place, searching for the one of your roommates who the party was in honour of. 

Fiddling lightly with the hem of your silky dress as you peeked into the room where a rowdy game of beer pong was afoot, you still felt a little dizzy as desperation soaked through your ruined panties. 

Though, as you checked the kitchen, a bulky frame bumped into you, though it wasn’t just any run-of-the-mill frat boy, incapable of watching where they went, it was the very last person you wished to lay your eyes upon. 

“Y/n, hey,” the trust fund kid caught your arm before you could slip away. 

“Ransom,” you couldn’t help but clench your jaw as you tried to free yourself of his hold, “hello.”

“I didn’t know you were gonna be here tonight.” 

“Why wouldn’t I be here?” you nearly scoffed as you squinted up at him, “it’s my roommate’s birthday party.” 

“Right, forgot you moved in with all of them, became just one of the boys…” as a beat of silence fell over him, he let his gaze then rake over your form, lapping up the soft blue material that draped across your curves, “you look good tonight, by the way.”

“I–…” your eyes fluttered shut as you let out a sigh, “Ransom, can we not? Just for tonight, can we not do all of this? Just let me be here, celebrate my friend, and then after that, if you so wish, we can get back to our regularly scheduled program. Just one night of peace, that’s all I’m asking for.”

His dark brows then furrowed as he cocked his head, “babe, come on–”

Cutting him off with a scoff, you spat, “I haven’t been your babe since you broke up with me.”

He had been all for landing a girl that was essentially a wet dream come true when it came to all of the sinful areas you were itching to explore with him, but what hadn’t been a part of his plans was having a girlfriend who wasn’t exclusively a slut for him and him alone. He’d told you to choose between him and your dirty little hobby, but to his surprise, you hadn’t even hesitated when you didn’t choose him. 

A low sigh then puffed from his lungs, “fine.”

Heatedly ripping your arm free, you echoed, “fine,” before turning on your heel and exiting the kitchen. 

Luckily, your search didn’t drag on too much further before you stumbled upon your celebrated friend. 

“There you are!” you exclaimed, your voice ushering Curtis’ head to twist in your direction, his glance shifting from the pool table before him. 

“Baby!” he swiftly threw open his inked arms and pulled you close, “hey!”

Hearing the heavy balls clank around on the table, you asked, “are you in the middle of a game or could I steal you away for a sec?”

“Nah, not this round,” he withdrew only ever so slightly, letting one of his arms stay draped over your shoulders, “what do you need?”

Pulling him with you in the direction of the wide staircase, you smirked, “I just have a present to give you…”

“Another one?” he blinked as you dragged him up the steps. 

“Well, you deserve the world, so yes, you get another one this year,” you offered him a warm smile. 

“Man,” he exhaled as you reached the upper level, “happy birthday to me,” a smirk spread across his features as he willingly let you push him into one of the rooms. 

It was a study room filled with long communal desks, tall bookcases and velvet armchairs. It was also, thankfully, vacant of any other partygoers. 

“Happy birthday, Curtis,” you didn’t waste any time, the door barely managed to slam behind you, before you yanked him in for a kiss. 

It took him a second before he caught up with your sudden actions, but as soon as he did, a gentle giggle rumbled from his intoxicated form and vibrated against your lips as he enveloped his long arms around your frame. 

Feet shuffling, your roommate soon bumped into one of the tables, lending him to half sit on it as you let your touch rake down his figure. Even with the swift and determined pace your desperation drove you to have, it still didn’t take that long for Curtis to be on the same page as you, and when your palm fluttered down to cup him through his pants, the tent twitched beneath your touch. 

At first, when you then withdrew from the kiss, Curtis instinctively followed your disappearing lips till he noticed your knees buckling as you sank down onto the floor. 

“This is so much better than losing at pool,” he gazed down at you between his thighs, nearly hypnotised as you tugged at his zipper.

“I’d sure hope so,” you nearly scoffed as you freed him of his binds, not hesitating to lean in and swipe your tongue silkily against the very tip of him as soon as you had the chance, “although, you know I never mind being a consolation prize.”

“Consolation prize?” his tone filtered through a soft groan as your fist enclosed around his base, twisting slightly as it jerked up to graze your mouth, “that’s not what you were last week.”

“Yeah, but that was different,” your giggle vibrated against him, “it’s okay, baby. Maybe next time we play at home you’ll get to win and show the others who’s boss,” you purred before your lips enveloped fully around his fat girth. 

When spit and slobber soon bubbled out and dripped down onto your chest from your efforts, you got back up to your feet. As you let the back of your palm wipe a bit of the mess from your chin, you twisted your frame around and let your spine melt back against this broad chest. 

As you felt Curtis’ fingers dig into your dress and hike it up, you rolled your hips back against him, nearly dizzy with want. Gliding a hand down between your thighs, you captured the sodden material, utterly ruined and clinging to your core, before you yanked it to the side, the leaky mess not yet ready to let go of the panties and spiderwebbing to where you pulled it to the side.  

Reaching around, your grip captured his cock once again as you tilted him to teasingly brush through your folds, your activities from earlier made it almost pathetic how sloppy you got him in a matter of seconds. 

As his lips pressed to your cheek in a hot kiss, you glanced over your shoulder to catch his eye and take in his reaction.

You didn’t warn him, nor say anything at all. Only a smirk glimmered on your lips as a forewarning before you led him away from the leaky entrance he naturally assumed you’d let him into, and instead arched your back and eased his slicked-up length into somewhere else. 

“Oh–, holy shit,” his eyes flickered down to affirm what you were doing before blinking up at you in the assumption that it was a mistake, “baby, you’re–”

“I know,” you smiled at the way his chest heaved at the realisation. 

“Wait, seriously?” 

“Told you I had another present for you,” your gloating grin softened at the moan that slipped out as you sank down just a little further upon his dick. 

His fingers dented both sides of your hips as you slowly let him feel more of you, “oh my god, you’re the fucking best…” 

It was shallow at first, gentle as you controlled the pace, though still mind-meltingly intense as you fucked back against him till your knees began to wobble, feeling each and every little detail of his stretch your little ass out. 

You felt his hot breath on the side of your face between the lazy pecks he planted there and occasionally veering further south to try and mark your neck up with his bites. 

“O-oh, fuck,” you whimpered when one of his inked arms snaked around to your front and stretched down to rub your clit, swollen and throbbing between the pads of his rough fingers. 

Since you’d backed away from the edge not too long before, its overwhelming return was swift and quickly rendered you a shivering mess in his arms as your rhythm came to a rest and the tight circles he drew over your puffy pearl pushed you into insanity. 

Eyes still shut as you were panting for breath, you felt Curtis pluck up your chin and tilt it so that his lips could seize yours. 

Though the blissful pause didn’t last very long before he manoeuvred you around, manhandling you into a new configuration, though all the while never slipping his cock out. 

His palm was heavy against your back as he whirled you around and bent you over the table. Cheek smooshed against the smooth wooden surface, the thunderous snap his hips then offered caused the desk to rattle beneath you. 

However, just as you sensed him begin to lose himself, burying his cock so deep inside of you that it caused you to see stars, the creaking sound of the door to the study swinging open sliced through the lewd harmonies already filling the room.

Even though you couldn’t really glance over your shoulder to see who it was that entered, the recognisable voices that then found your ears calmed your worries about why Curtis’ pace for some reason hadn’t slowed down in the slightest. 

“No, I’m not kidding, that’s really what–, oh,” Bucky’s sentence paused as soon he spotted you, “hello you two.”

You attempted to tilt your head against the table as the last of your roommates came into view, shut the door behind them and stepped closer. 

As you reached out a wobbly hand to grasp Steve’s, he sweetly caught it in his and chuckled at your cock drunk visage, “hey.”

“Hmm–, hi…” you attempted to greet them, Bucky swiftly bending down to briefly be at your height, letting his fingers brush some of your hair out of your face as Curtis’ efforts jolted your frame against the table at every feverish thrust. 

“Was wondering where you guys were,” Steve held onto your hand a little longer as his glance met the blissful gaze of the man who was balls deep inside of you, “I thought she already gave you her little present.”

“You knew?” Curtis tilted his chin, to which you tried to explain with a mumble, though one of your roommates didn’t hesitate to playfully ask you to clarify.

“I’m sorry what was that? You’re being too much of whore right now for me to understand you,” Bucky pressed a peck to your brow before straightening back up, “look, I would have totally told you man, but she threatened us not to ruin the surprise.” 

“Yeah, said that if you didn’t get to take a dip first, then none of us ever would,” Steve added. 

“Aw,” you felt Curtis kneed your bottom as he slammed into you, “you’d really have done that?”

“I did say you deserve the world, so yeah,” you managed to squeak. 

“It’s so cute how sappy birthdays make you,” Bucky smirked, “such a shame not one of us even hesitates to exploit it.” 

As one hand stayed glued to the curve of your ass, his thumb hooked in your underwear to grant not only him but the rest a perfect view of just how well you took him, Curtis’ other hand then stretched out to grasp the half-empty beer that Steve handed him, briefly taking a swig before handing it back. 

“Yeah, she really is just such a good little girl, aren’t you?” Steve found a seat on one of the nearby chairs. 

“Mhm…” you barely caught sight of how both of them palmed themselves for an ounce of relief. 

Sitting down as well, Bucky squinted cockily back at you as your hazy eyes briefly caught his, “what was that, sweetheart?”  

“I’m a–,” you blubbered as Curtis’ cock stretched you so wide that you even felt it press against the sweet spots in your throbbing pussy, “I’m a g-good girl–”

“Yes, you are, baby, that’s right,” Curtis chuckled warmly behind you before offering your ass a swift slap, “the fucking best.”

“Oh, oh! She’s so close to cumming, I can see it!” Bucky exclaimed in an almost mocking tone as your eyes began to roll, “just look at that face,” he nearly jumped to get closer, “so fucking pretty.”

“Come on, Y/n,” Steve leaned back in his seat and squeezed his hard-on as he stared at your fucked out form, “give us a good show. Make it good for the birthday boy.” 

Although, unfortunately, you were already too far gone by then to take any of their lewd comments into account as you tumbled over the edge, floating in the sea of your cheering roommates as a soundtrack. 

After your friend had emptied himself into your haven, he simply slid your panties back into place so that his cum could leak out of you for the rest of the party and ruin your sheer underwear completely, perhaps even give up entirely and run down your shaky legs for all to see.

Bending down to smother you back to life with kisses, you also felt Curtis’ arms tangle around you as he hugged you and slowly lifted you off of the table. 

“You wanna go down and dance?” his low timbre tickled the shell of your ear. 

“Just give me a second,” you breathed through your hazy smile as you fought to blink your eyes back open, “my legs will first have to start working again. Maybe you could take over the music for a second and queue up something slow,” you light-heartedly suggested with an airy chuckle. 

“Don’t you worry, baby,” Bucky smirked from across the table, “we’ll help keep you upright.” 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Seeing Stars 1

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes

Summary: You struggle to be star struck by the world's most famous super soldiers. (grumpy!short!reader)

Note: Guess this is happening.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The lights, the noise, the crowd, it's all a bit much. You move out of the way of another Red, or, Black Widow cosplayer only to nearly bump into a rather short but broad Thor. At least, you think you have those right. You don't know. Bonita is more into this stuff. You're more here for moral support, or more realistically, to carry her bags.

Didn't she tell you she was trying to cut down her spending? You've already tallied up more than you'd spend on groceries on a single poster and a bobblehead hero. Which one was that? The one with the metal arm…

You jostle against Bonita to keep from brushing against a stranger. You're not much for human contact as it is, but you'd rather it be here than that guy in the Spiderboy outfit doing twirls. You can respect the passion but it's all over the top. Someone's going to get hurt.

"Alright, signature time!" Bonita claps her hands and leads you over to a long queue behind a velvet cord. A man in black asks for her VIP pass. She shows it and you see the not so subtle total on the receipt; $500! That's robbery. These Stark Industries-issued heroes don't need all that.

You keep your grumbles to yourself and cross your arms to follow her. The man stops you too. You reel back and give him a glower.

"Relax, I'm carrying milady's things," you raise the bag and bobblehead. "I'm not interested in having a class photo."

"Please, sir, she's not really into any of this," Bonita adds with a cute smile. He considers her and drops his shoulders. He waves you through.

You shuffle along with the line of bodies. You lean to the side as you try to see the front. It zigzags back and forth. You're going to be here forever.

"Why couldn't Mo come with again?" You drone.

"Because he's a butthead," she whines. "Couldn't even pay me back for getting the tickets on pre-sale so he can miss out!"

"I didn't pay either," you mutter.

"Yes, but you're more fun. My brother's spoiled. He deserves it."

You nod and move with her as the queue shifts again. It's easy for her to come out and spend all this money. She still lives at home. You're not judging her but she also doesn't seem ashamed of it either. As happy as you'd been when you got out on your own, you sometimes wonder what it'd be like to have people to fall back on.

"It's going to be so cool. I got a photo with both of them! EEEEE!" Her squeal has you touching your earlobes.

"Both of them," you nod dully.

"Captain America and the Winter Soldier," she exclaims and claps her hands. "Do you think they'll like my outfit?"

You look her up and down. She wears a star-spangled corset and a red and white striped skirt. She's like an excitable flag. You shrug. "It's cute, but you must be cold in here," you peer up at the high-ceilings and the fans swirling the air around.

"Nope! Too excited," she assures you.

"Cool."

You might not be into any of this but you try to be a supportive friend. Bonita's a bit flighty but she's not a bad person. Really, you admire how into things she gets. You have your things but she's about as interested in those as you are in super soldiers.

She chatters on about the photo. Do you think they'll sign it too? Oh, she needs to put it right above her desk. Obviously, it's going to be her phone background. You nod and peer around vaguely.

She thrives in place likes these. Bright, loud, and chaotic. You'll take something warm to drink and a book. She'll join you if you throw in some face masks and the like.

It's more than hour before you're in sight of the front table. Your feet hurt from standing mostly in one spot. You stretch your neck one-way than the other as you near the head of the line. You stand right by the stanchion where the cord opens.

Someone emerges from behind the curtain and you have to quickly step out the bouncing soldier's way. Is it considered stolen valour or an homage? As you move, your elbow hits someone else and you spin to face the unexpected figure.

"Oh," the man catches your elbow as you look up at him. Dark beard, dark hair past his chin, wide shoulders, and straight posture. His blue eyes seem familiar. "Sorry, miss. I'm just trying to get back to my station."

You sidle closer to Bonita as she gasps. The man brushes his fingertips down your sleeve as he passes and heads for the table. He stops to speak with the person handing out merch then proceeds behind the curtain where the flashes have been steadily flickering behind.

"Gosh, can you believe that?"

"Believe what?" You stare after him.

"That was him. Bucky Barnes. The Winter Soldier," she exclaims. You blink at her and she scoffs.

"God, you're so lame. I can't believe you had no idea."

"I dunno," you pop your shoulders up and down. "Not my thing but that's cool."

"Oop!" She hops on her toes as the person at the table calls for the next in line, "that's me."

"Have fun," you say as you move aside with her haul.

She skips up to the table and shows her phone again. She takes the SWAG they offer her as they explain the next step and point behind the curtain. As she disappears behind it, you hear her squeal. You wonder if super soldiers have super hearing. That must've hurt.

You sway as you wait. Your name cuts through the air as you space out staring at a banner and you look over as Bonita waves from behind the curtain. You hesitantly cross the floor, expecting to be stopped.

"They want you to join!" She says.

"What?" You stop a foot away from her head as it appears to float between the curtains.

"Sure. They said why not? Since you waited in line."

"Oh, no that's… fine. I'll stay out here."

"Come on," she huffs and grabs your wrist, dragging you through. "Here she is!"

You step through and scan the space. There's the photographer patiently waiting behind the camera. Across from the lens, two large men stand with smiles that you can tell are all for show. This is a paid appearance for them.

"Hey, how about it?" The blond asks and beckons you over.

"I guess if you want me too, Bonnie," you say to your friend without acknowledge the man you know to be Captain America.

She brings you over with her and stands you between her and the brown-haired sidekick. Bucky steps closer and you wince as his hand goes to your lower back. You suppose it's normal given that you're getting photos but you want nothing more than to growl at him.

"Alright, everyone set?" The photographer looks at the camera and adjusts the lens. "Smile."

The flash goes as you refuse to follow orders. You're not much on smiling. You stand there like a mannequin as your vision speckles from the light.

"Oh, Steve, um, will you pick me up for the next one?" Bonita asks. You cringe and step away from Bucky's hand. He looms close as you squirm.

"Sure," Steve accepts breezily. He lifts her with no effort at all as you give a skeptical look.

"How about you?" Bucky touches your arm again and you draw away reflexively.

"No thanks," you curl your shoulders inward as you try to shrink down. "I'm good."

"Alright," the photographer says, "everyone together."

"Um, I think I'm going to step out, actually--"

Too late. Bucky puts his arm over your shoulders and crowds you as Bonita poses in Steve's arms. Your eyes round in horror and the camera blinds you again. She's really going to owe you for this one.

[shybluebirdninja]

Primal Claim

Summary: Bucky Barnes finally succumbs to his desire, claiming you with rough, passionate dominance, leaving no doubt that you belong to him completely.

Pairings           : Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Note                 : explicit content, rough sex, domination

The room was buzzing with the usual banter of the Avengers. Laughter filled the air, a mix of inside jokes and teasing, but your eyes were fixed on only one person—Bucky Barnes. That sharp jawline, the piercing blue eyes, and that rough edge that never seemed to soften. You’d been pushing him for months now, dropping hints, teasing him when you had the chance. And tonight, after yet another playful jab from the team about your not-so-subtle crush on him, you could feel the tension in the air shift.

You were no stranger to the comments. Hell, even Tony had joined in on the teasing at one point, always with a smirk and a “C’mon, Barnes, you gonna do something or let her pine away forever?” The whole damn team knew. It was impossible not to notice how you'd bring Bucky his favorite coffee without being asked, or how your eyes lingered a little too long when he walked into a room.

But Bucky? He’d always played it cool, keeping you at arm's length, though you swore you caught the flicker of something darker in his gaze when he thought no one was watching.

Tonight, though, there was a different energy in the air. You knew he was at his breaking point—hell, you were pushing him there on purpose.

The night had dragged on, and you had finally caught him alone, sitting in the corner of the dimly lit common room. You sauntered over, your hips swaying just enough to catch his attention. You knew exactly what you were doing, and by the way his eyes darkened as they tracked your movements, you knew he was done holding back.

“Bucky,” you purred, leaning against the couch, one hand resting on the backrest while you let your fingers brush just close enough to his shoulder. “You’ve been awfully quiet tonight. Something on your mind?”

He looked up at you, his jaw tight, his eyes stormy, and for a second, you thought he might actually walk away, like he had so many times before. But then, something shifted in him. His gaze locked on you, hard and unrelenting, and before you could say another word, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you down onto his lap, his grip firm but not painful. The sudden move took you by surprise, but the heat between you two was undeniable.

“You think this is a game, huh?” His voice was low, gravelly, dripping with that rough edge that always made your knees weak. “You’ve been pushing me for months. Teasing me. Bringing me coffee, smiling at me like that, letting the whole damn team watch you do it.” His metal hand gripped your waist now, fingers digging into your skin, and it sent a shiver straight down your spine. “You think I haven’t noticed?”

Your heart raced, pounding in your chest as the intensity in his gaze burned through you. This wasn’t the soft, playful Bucky everyone saw. No, this was the soldier, the one who didn’t fuck around. And he was tired of pretending.

“I don’t think you mind it as much as you pretend to,” you shot back, though your voice was breathier than you intended. You wanted to keep up the teasing, but damn it, he had you on edge with just a look.

Bucky’s lips twitched, but there was no smile. “Mind it?” He scoffed, tightening his grip on your waist, pulling you closer so you could feel the hard length of him pressing up against you. “You have no fuckin’ idea what you’re doing to me, do you?” He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. “You think I’ve been ignoring you because I don’t want you?”

Your breath hitched at the raw, animalistic tone in his voice. You tried to steady yourself, but the way he was looking at you—like he was about to devour you—had you squirming in his lap.

“Bucky—” you started, but he cut you off.

“You’ve been driving me crazy for months, sweetheart.” His voice dropped even lower, and your heart skipped a beat as he stood up, lifting you effortlessly with him. He pressed you against the wall, his body flush with yours, pinning you there as he stared down at you with that unrelenting, possessive gaze. “And now you’re gonna see what happens when you push me too far.”

Before you could respond, his mouth was on yours, hot and demanding. It wasn’t a gentle kiss—it was hungry, desperate, the kind of kiss that stole your breath and left you gasping for more. His hands were everywhere, gripping your hips, sliding under your shirt, his fingers leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

“You think you can keep teasing me and get away with it?” he growled against your lips, his hands sliding down to the waistband of your jeans. He yanked them down in one rough motion, his fingers immediately finding your slick heat. “You’re already soaked, aren’t you? All that teasing, and now you’re the one who’s desperate.”

You moaned as his fingers worked you over, his touch rough, unrelenting, exactly what you had been craving for so long. “Bucky, please—”

“Please, what?” he taunted, his voice low and dangerous. “You wanted this, didn’t you? Wanted me to lose control, to fuck you like you’ve been begging for.” His fingers slipped inside you, and you gasped, arching against him. “You’re mine, baby. No more games.”

He didn’t wait for a response. In one swift move, he had you spun around, your chest pressed against the wall as he pushed inside you, filling you completely with one brutal thrust. You cried out, the sensation overwhelming as he started moving, rough and fast, his grip on your hips tight enough to leave bruises.

“Bucky—fuck!” Your voice was breathless, your body shaking with the intensity of it all. But he didn’t slow down—he only went harder, his grunts and groans mixing with your moans as the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room.

“You like that, huh?” he growled in your ear, his breath hot against your neck as he slammed into you again and again. “You like when I fuck you like this? When I make you mine?”

You could only moan in response, your legs trembling, barely able to hold yourself up as he pounded into you with a relentless rhythm.

“Bucky—oh my God—” You could feel yourself getting closer, the pressure building in your core, but Bucky wasn’t done with you yet.

He spun you around again, lifting you up so you had to wrap your legs around his waist as he thrust into you, his body pressed against yours, hot and sweaty. “You’re not going anywhere, baby,” he growled, his voice rough and breathless as he buried himself inside you one last time. “You’re mine.”

And when you finally came, it was like a fucking explosion, your body shaking in his arms as he held you close, his own release following moments later, filling you completely. He didn’t let go, even after the shaking stopped, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Told you. You’re mine.”

[yikesdrama]

for one perfect moment 🩵 (i) — Bucky Barnes

summary: bucky’s birthday is coming up soon and you just want to do something special for him, maybe even take a time travelling trip to see his maa….

word count: 6.6k

warnings: its just fluff, secret birthday planning & a lot of cuteness

a/n: please comment, like & reblog with your thoughts. i’m thinking of making it a three part series.

masterlist | next part

Steve Rogers looked across the table at you, arms crossed, brow furrowed in thought. The room felt warm and quiet despite the weight of the conversation, the faint hum of Stark Tech monitors filling the silence as your words lingered in the air.

Sam Wilson sat across from you, leaning back in his chair, one eyebrow raised in mild skepticism, but there was something softer in his expression—something almost amused.

“So, let me get this straight,” Sam began, tilting his head toward you. “Your brilliant idea for Bucky’s birthday is to—what—borrow Tony’s time machine, go back to the 1940s, and hang out with his family?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” You leaned forward, your elbows resting on the edge of the table. Your voice had a determined edge, but your eyes betrayed a flicker of nervous energy. “I mean… think about it, Sam. When was the last time Bucky had a real family celebration? A moment where he wasn’t running from Hydra or fighting for his life or—” you paused, chewing your bottom lip—“feeling like he’s some kind of burden on the people around him?”

Steve straightened in his chair, his sharp blue eyes shifting from Sam to you. There was a stillness to him, like he was processing your words as if they were mission intel. “You’re not wrong,” he said finally, his voice calm but measured. “But it’s not exactly simple. Time travel isn’t… well, it’s not just a weekend getaway.”

“I know that,” you said quickly, cutting him off before he could build up steam. “I know it’s not simple, Steve, but it’s worth it. You know what this would mean to him. To see his mom & sisters, Steve. Don’t you think he deserves that?”

Sam leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as well, as a slow grin spread across his face. “Y’know,” he said, pointing a finger at you, “I thought this idea was crazy at first, but now I’m starting to think you’re just crazy enough to pull it off. The question is, how do you convince Stark to hand over the keys to his fancy time machine?”

“Oh, I’ve got a plan for that,” you said, brushing off Sam’s teasing tone with a wave of your hand. “Tony owes me. Big time.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

“Do you really want to know?” You smirked, leaning back in your chair with a satisfied expression. “Let’s just say it involves a highly classified Avengers mission, a stray cat, and one very expensive pair of Tony’s sunglasses.”

Sam barked out a laugh, the sound echoing off the walls. “Okay, now I definitely want to know.”

“It’s not important!” you said quickly, your cheeks flushing. “The point is, I can get Tony on board. But I need you two to back me up. He’s not going to go for this unless he knows it’s not just some ‘sentimental whim.’” You air-quoted the words dramatically, your voice dropping into a passable imitation of Stark’s dry tone.

Steve’s lips twitched into a faint smile, the kind that said he was almost convinced but still holding out for the catch. “Let’s say you get Tony to agree. How exactly are you planning to make this work? The timeline has rules. You can’t just drop in on the 1940s like it’s a costume party.”

You rolled your eyes. “I know that. Look, I’ve been thinking this through. We’d be careful. In and out, no interference with the timeline. Just… a quiet visit with his family. Maybe a week, max. Enough time for him to have a real birthday celebration. I mean, wouldn’t you want that if you were in his shoes?”

Steve’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, his gaze settling on a spot on the wall. For a moment, the room went quiet. Sam exchanged a glance with you, his humor softening into something more thoughtful. Steve’s voice, when he finally spoke, was quiet but firm. “Yeah. I would.”

Your expression softened, and you reached out across the table, your hand brushing against Steve’s. “Then you understand why this is so important. He’s been through so much, Steve. We all know that. He deserves to feel important.”

Sam let out a low whistle, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “You’re laying it on thick. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re whipped for the guy.”

Your face went red, but you didn’t back down. “Of course I’m whipped for him Sam, I’m in love with him. That’s why I’m doing this.”

Steve and Sam both froze, their expressions caught somewhere between surprise and something softer.

Steve blinked, his hand unconsciously rubbing the back of his neck. “Well,” he said, his voice low, “I can’t argue with that.”

Sam recovered first, his grin wide and teasing. “You’re really pulling the romance card, huh?”

“Shut up, Wilson,” you shot back, but there was no real heat in your voice. “Are you in or not?”

Sam laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I’m in, I’m in. You had me at ‘time machine.’”

Steve sighed, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “I’ll help you,” he said, his tone firm but kind. “But we do this by the book. No cutting corners, no unnecessary risks. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” you said quickly, your eyes bright with excitement. “Thank you, Steve. I mean it.”

“Alright, so what’s the next step? Do we just march into Stark Tower and ask Tony for a favour.” Sam clapped his hands together, the sound breaking the tension in the room. “Because I’ve gotta say, I don’t think the guy’s gonna go for it without some serious persuasion.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” you said, a mischievous glint in your eye. “I’ve got a plan.”

Later that evening, the three of you stood in Tony’s lab, the soft glow of holographic displays casting blue light across the room. Tony Stark was pacing, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, his expression equal parts amused and exasperated.

“Let me make sure I’m hearing this correctly,” he said, stopping mid-stride to look at you. “You want me to loan you my multi-billion-dollar time travel machine so you can throw a birthday party in the 1940s?”

“Not just a party,” you corrected, your tone matter-of-fact. “A family reunion. For Bucky.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “You know, when I built this thing, I had slightly higher ambitions in mind. Like, oh, I don’t know, saving the universe?”

“This is saving the universe,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “His universe.”

Steve cleared his throat, stepping forward. “It’s important, Tony. For Bucky. He hasn’t seen his family since the war. This would mean everything to him.”

Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You people really know how to tug at the ol’ heartstrings, don’t you?”

Sam smirked. “Comes with the territory.”

There was a long pause, and then Tony shook his head, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. “Fine. But if you break it, you buy it. And by ‘it,’ I mean the space-time continuum.”

You beamed, and for a moment, it felt like the entire room had brightened. “Thank you, Tony. You have no idea how much this means.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony said, waving you off. “Just don’t make me regret it. And keep Rogers out of trouble while you’re at it. Don’t want him to end up fighting someone in the alley.”

Steve raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. He had a feeling this was going to be one birthday Bucky would never forget.

That evening, the living room of the Avengers Compound had never felt so cramped. Steve sat in his usual spot, his arms stretched over the back of the couch, trying to look casual while his stomach twisted with the weight of your not-so-secretive plan.

Next to him, you perched on the edge of the sofa cushion, your knee bouncing nervously as your eyes flicked between the TV and Sam. The movie playing on the screen was some action flick that none of you were actually watching—except maybe Bucky, who was obliviously sprawled out on the recliner, munching on popcorn.

Steve couldn’t help but glance at Bucky every few seconds, half expecting him to suddenly leap up and call their bluff. It was a ridiculous fear, considering how utterly relaxed Bucky seemed, but it didn’t stop Steve’s heart from racing every time Bucky so much as turned his head.

Sam, seated on the armrest of the couch, leaned over toward you and murmured under his breath, his tone just loud enough for Steve to catch. “So, what’s the next move, mastermind?”

Your lips twitched into a quick, nervous smile as you shot him a sideways glance. “We need to talk to Strange,” you whispered, your voice low but brimming with determination. “But we have to be careful. Bucky can’t know. Not even a hint.”

“Yeah, no pressure,” Sam muttered, rolling his eyes. He popped a handful of M&Ms into his mouth and slouched slightly, doing his best impression of someone who actually cared about the car chase on the screen.

“Can you two stop whispering?” Steve whispered yelled, though his voice lacked any real authority. He reached for the remote, fiddling with the volume button and turned it up. “If you’re going to conspire, at least don’t do it two feet away from him.”

You shot him a look, rolling your eyes. “What do you want us to do, Steve? Write notes and pass them like we’re in fifth grade?”

Sam smirked, leaning closer to you. “I mean, it might be safer. He’s got super-hearing. For all we know, he’s—”

“Sam,” Steve cut in, his tone warning, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Not helping.”

Bucky, blissfully unaware of the tension simmering behind him, let out a low chuckle at something on the screen. Steve froze, his eyes darting to you, and you looked like you were about to jump out of your skin. Your eyes flicked back to Sam, then to Steve, your expression screaming this is impossible.

“Alright, alright,” Sam said quietly, lifting his hands in surrender. “Let’s just get out of here before you two have a nervous breakdown. We can go talk to Strange.”

Steve nodded, grateful for the excuse to move things along. “Good idea,” he said, standing and stretching like he’d just remembered an urgent errand. “We’ll, uh, be back in a bit, Buck.”

“Where are you going?” Bucky asked casually, his eyes still glued to the screen.

You froze, your face an open book of panic, and Steve jumped in before you could flounder. “Oh, uh… just running an errand. These two are just tagging along for backup.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, finally turning his attention away from the movie to look at you. “Backup? For what?”

“Moral support?” you stated hesitantly.

Sam snorted, the corner of his mouth twitching with amusement before he covered it up with a cough.

Bucky gave you all a skeptical once-over but eventually shrugged, settling back into his chair. “Whatever. Just don’t die out there.”

“Got it,” you blurted, grabbing Sam’s arm and practically dragging him toward the door. Steve followed, his stomach knotting tighter with every step.

The three of you didn’t speak until you were outside and halfway to Steve’s SUV.

Sam finally broke the silence with a low whistle. “That was smooth. Real smooth.”

You shot him a glare, your cheeks still flushed. “You’re not helping.”

“I wasn’t trying to,” Sam replied, grinning as he climbed into the back seat.

Steve rolled his eyes and opened the passenger door for you to get in & sit, his patience already wearing thin.

Once you were on the road, the tension in the car started to ease, though Steve couldn’t shake the feeling that you were walking a very fine line. You sat beside him, fiddling with the hem of your sweater as you stared out the window. You looked nervous but determined, your lips pressed into a firm line.

Steve studied you for a moment, his mind drifting to all the times he’d seen that same look on your face. It was the look you got when you were planning something big—something you believed in with your whole heart. He couldn’t help but admire you for it, even if it made him nervous.

“So,” Sam said, breaking the silence as he leaned back in his seat, “what’s the game plan with Strange? You gonna sweet-talk him like you did with Stark?”

You snorted, finally tearing your gaze away from the window to look at Sam. “I don’t think Strange is the ‘sweet-talk’ type.”

“Good point,” Sam said with a grin. “So what’s the backup plan? Bribery? Begging? Threats?”

“None of the above,” you said firmly. “I’m just going to explain the plan and hope he understands.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “That’s it? No clever strategy? No emotional appeals? You’re really putting all your eggs in the ‘logic and reason’ basket?”

Steve cut in before you could retort. “She’s right. Strange isn’t the kind of guy you can manipulate. He’ll respect honesty.”

You gave him a small, grateful smile. You were stubborn, sure, but you were also smart—smarter than you gave yourself credit for sometimes.

When you arrived outside the Sanctum Sanctorum, you were the first to get out of the car, despite the nervous energy radiating off you. Steve followed close behind, with Sam bringing up the rear, muttering something under his breath about “mystical nonsense.”

Stephan Strange greeted you at the door, his expression unreadable as always. He stood tall, his arms crossed over his chest, the red of his cloak catching the door light in a way that made him look almost regal.

“This better be important,” he said, his tone clipped but not unkind. “I don’t have time for casual visits.”

You stepped forward, your hands clasped tightly in front of you. “It is important. I promise.”

Strange raised an eyebrow, glancing between you and the two men behind you. “Alright. Come in.”

The inside of the Sanctum was just as strange and imposing as Steve remembered. You seemed unfazed, though he noticed you glancing around with a mix of curiosity and awe.

“So,” Strange said once you were seated in his study, “what’s this all about?”

You took a deep breath, your hands resting in your lap. “I want to use the time travel machine Tony built to take Bucky back to the 1940s for his birthday.”

Strange blinked, his expression carefully neutral. “That’s… specific.”

“It’s important,” you said quickly, leaning forward slightly. “I just want him to have a chance to see his family again. To know they’re okay. And I promise we won’t do anything to change the timeline. No interference, no big disruptions. Just… a visit.”

Strange studied you for a long moment, his fingers steepled under his chin. “You’re asking me to approve a plan that involves traveling to the past and interacting with people who are supposed to remain unaware of future events. Do you understand how delicate this is?”

“I do,” you said, your voice steady. “But I’ve thought it through. The only thing I plan to do is explain to his family what happened to him—why he disappeared. They deserve to know he’s okay, even if they never see him again. And when I bring him there, it’ll just be for a week. A chance for him to see his family once.”

Strange’s gaze flicked to Steve, then to Sam, as if gauging their reactions. “And you’re both on board with this?”

Sam shrugged. “Hey, it’s not my birthday, but if it makes Bucky happy, I’m all for it.”

Steve nodded, his expression serious. “It’s risky, but I trust her. She won’t let anything happen to the timeline.”

“You’re lucky I’ve seen weirder requests.” Strange said letting out a long sigh, leaning back in his chair. “Fine. As long as you stick to your word and don’t try to rewrite history, I won’t stop you.”

Your face lit up, and Steve felt a wave of relief wash over him. Strange wasn’t exactly the sentimental type, but he’d clearly seen something in your determination that convinced him.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “You have no idea how much this means.”

Strange waved you off, his tone dry as usual. “Just don’t make me regret it. And for the love of all things sacred, don’t try to save Barnes from falling of the train in the past. You’ll just make things worse.”

“I won’t,” you promised quickly. “This is about giving him something good now, not changing what’s already happened.”

“Good,” Strange said, standing and gesturing toward the door. “Now get out of my Sanctum before I change my mind.”

As you walked back to the car, your steps were lighter, almost bouncing. You turned to Steve and Sam, a wide grin on your face. “That went better than I expected.”

Sam smirked. “Yeah, thanks to your sales pitch.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t lose your smile. For the first time all day, you felt a genuine sense of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this plan was going to work.

Okay, see the thing was Steve had witnessed his fair share of devotion in his lifetime. He had seen love in wartime letters clutched tightly in trembling hands, in quiet glances exchanged across rooms, and even in the sacrifices people made for each other on the battlefield.

But nothing—not in the 1940s, not in the decades since—compared to the sheer, shameless fervor of your love for Bucky Barnes.

He leaned back against the counter of the kitchen, arms crossed, as he watched you chatter animatedly with Sam and Natasha, your eyes alight with that unmistakable spark. You had this way of talking about Bucky that made it impossible not to notice the utter adoration woven into your every word.

It wasn’t just love; it was full-blown, unapologetic obsession.

“And then,” you said, your hands moving wildly as you recounted some small, undoubtedly inconsequential moment, “he just sat there, all broody, like he was single-handedly carrying the weight of the world. And I said, ‘Bucky, you don’t have to pretend to be a tortured poet every time it rains!’” You grinned, clearly delighted with your own story. “He didn’t laugh, of course, but I swear I saw his lip twitch.”

Natasha smirked, sipping her coffee. “Sounds like a real charmer.”

“Oh, he is,” you said, beaming as though Nat’s comment had been an actual compliment. “You just have to get past the murdery vibe, you know? It’s all part of his charm.”

Sam snorted so loudly that Steve thought he might choke on his drink. “Murdery vibe? That’s the phrase you’re going with to describe your boyfriend?”

“It’s accurate!” you insisted, unbothered by the teasing. “You just don’t understand him the way I do. Beneath all that scowling and brooding, he’s—”

“A ray of sunshine?” Natasha interrupted, raising an eyebrow.

“Exactly!” you said brightly, completely oblivious to the sarcasm, again. “He’s my sunshine.”

Steve suppressed a groan, pinching the bridge of his nose. He loved you—he really did—but hearing you wax poetic about his grumpy, perpetually unimpressed best friend was almost too much to bear. It wasn’t the first time, either. In fact, it was a near-daily occurrence.

What astounded Steve the most, though, was how far you were willing to go for Bucky.

Time Travel.

Literal time travel, just so Bucky could have one good birthday with the family he’d lost decades ago. Steve wasn’t sure if it was romantic or utterly insane—probably a mix of both. Either way, he couldn’t deny that it was impressive.

“So,” Natasha said, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs, “how’s the time travel plan coming along? Did Strange give you the green light?”

“Green as it gets,” you said, practically bouncing in your seat. “He said it wouldn’t mess up the timeline as long as we’re careful. I mean, no big hero moves, no trying to rewrite history, and definitely no saving Bucky in the past.” You paused, your face briefly clouding with thought. “Not that I wouldn’t want to, but you know… rules.”

Sam shook his head, laughing under his breath. “Man, you really would mess with the space-time continuum for him, wouldn’t you?”

You turned to him, your expression dead serious. “In a heartbeat.”

Steve couldn’t help but chuckle at that, the sound low and amused. “Y’know, I’ve seen people go to some crazy lengths for the people they love, but this…” He gestured vaguely, as if words couldn’t quite capture the enormity of your plan. “This might take the cake.”

You turned to him, your expression softening. “Steve, if you could go back and give Peggy one more dance, wouldn’t you?”

The question hit him harder than he expected, his chest tightening as the image of Peggy Carter flickered in his mind. He didn’t answer right away, but you didn’t push him. You just gave him a knowing look, your eyes full of understanding.

“Alright, fine,” Nat cut in, breaking the heavy silence. “Let’s not get all sentimental. You still have one problem, genius. Tony Stark. What’s the plan for getting him on board?”

“We already got Tony on board,” you said smugly, folding your arms as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “You? You convinced Tony Stark to let you borrow his precious time machine?”

“Of course,” you said with a shrug. “I just told him it was for Bucky’s birthday, and he rolled his eyes and said, ‘Fine, but if you break it, you’re paying for it.’ Honestly, I think he secretly likes the idea. He’d never admit it, but you know how he is.”

Natasha exchanged a glance with Sam, her expression halfway between impressed and incredulous. “I can’t believe Stark fell for that.”

“Oh, he didn’t ‘fall for it,’” you said, making air quotes with your fingers. “He knows exactly what he’s doing. He just pretends to be all grumpy and detached, but deep down, he’s a big softie.”

Sam let out a low whistle. “Man, I think you’ve got a thing for grumpy guys.”

“Only one grumpy guy,” you said, your smile softening. “And he’s worth it.”

Steve looked away, swallowing the lump in his throat. He wasn’t used to seeing someone care about Bucky like this—someone who saw him as more than just the Winter Soldier or the guy with a past too dark to talk about.

You saw Bucky. The real Bucky. And you loved him for it.

The door to the kitchen swung open, and Tony strolled in, a cup of coffee in one hand and a tablet in the other. “What’s all this about me being a softie?” he asked, his tone dry as he leaned against the counter.

You didn’t miss a beat. “I said you’re a grumpy softie. Big difference.”

Tony raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of his coffee. “You’re lucky I like you. Otherwise, I’d revoke your time-travel privileges.”

“Softie,” you said, waving him off.

Tony smirked but didn’t argue. Instead, he turned his attention to Steve. “So, Captain Sentimental, are you ready to supervise this little field trip? Because I am not cleaning up any timeline messes.”

Steve sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “What choice do I have?”

Tony looked you over, his expression softening just slightly. “You’re really doing all this for Barnes?”

You nodded, your eyes shining. “He deserves it.”

Tony was quiet for a moment, then he nodded, his usual sarcasm melting away. “Well, good luck, sunshine. Try not to get too lost in the 1940s.”

As Tony left the room, the conversation drifted to logistics—timing, equipment, and all the little details that needed to be ironed out before the mission. But even as you talked, Steve couldn’t stop thinking about what Tony had said.

Sunshine.

Steve glanced at you, watching as you leaned over a map on the table, your brow furrowed in concentration. You might not have realized it, but Tony was right. You really were a ray of sunshine—Bucky’s sunshine, in the darkest corners of his life.

And for that, Steve couldn’t be more grateful.

A few hours later, Steve sat on a folding chair, leaning back slightly as he gazed at the clear night sky. The rooftop was quiet, save for the faint hum of the compound below and the soft rustling of the wind.

Beside him, Bucky nursed a beer, his metal fingers absently turning the bottle in his hand, the soft clink of metal on glass barely audible. Sam was sprawled out in another chair, his legs stretched long, an empty bottle balanced precariously on his knee.

The silence was companionable, broken only by the occasional sip or the muffled sound of Sam muttering about how the stars weren’t visible like this back in D.C. Steve let himself relax for a moment, the crisp air cool against his skin. But, as usual, his thoughts wandered to you and your relentless energy over the past few weeks.

“You know,” he started, tilting his head toward Bucky, “your girlfriend is disgustingly obsessed with you.”

Bucky choked on his beer, shaking his head as he swallowed the wrong way. “What?” he said, laughing as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Where the hell did that come from?”

Steve smirked, taking a sip from his bottle. “I’m just saying. It’s impressive, honestly. I’ve never seen anyone so… determined to adore someone.”

“Yeah, man. She’s got it bad. Like, embarrassing bad.” Sam laughed outright, his deep chuckle rolling into the night.

Bucky leaned back, the corner of his mouth twitching up in a small grin. “You think I don’t know that?” He shook his head, the grin softening into something fonder. “She’s been like that since day one. But hey, I can’t say much—I’m just as bad.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you are,” Sam said, raising his bottle in mock toast. “Two of you are a real power couple of mutual obsession.”

Bucky just chuckled, his eyes flicking up toward the sky as silence fell over the group again. Steve let it linger, his thoughts wandering to how Bucky’s face softened every time you entered a room, or how his mood lifted when you were around. It was a strange thing to see—the hardened Winter Soldier so easily disarmed by one person—but Steve couldn’t deny how much you had changed Bucky.

Maybe even saved him.

After a few minutes, Bucky spoke up, his voice quieter now. “She’s planning something, isn’t she?”

Sam, mid-sip, choked on his beer, his coughing fit loud enough to make Steve wince. “What?” Sam rasped, pounding a fist against his chest. “What are you talking about?”

Steve glanced at Bucky, keeping his face neutral despite the mild panic rising in his chest. “What makes you say that?”

Bucky turned to him, his expression amused. “Oh, come on, Steve. She’s been vibrating with energy for weeks. Every time she looks at me, she lights up brighter than the damn sun. She’s up to something.”

Steve fought to keep his expression steady, his mind racing for an answer. He couldn’t exactly tell Bucky the truth—that you were plotting a time-traveling birthday reunion with his long-dead family. Instead, he opted for the simplest approach: deflect. “Could be just a coincidence.”

Wow Steve well done, what a deflect. Idiot!

Bucky raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Sure, because her suddenly acting like a kid on Christmas has nothing to do with the fact that my birthday’s coming up.”

Steve’s lips twitched. He wanted to feel annoyed at how sharp Bucky could be, but mostly he was impressed. “I don’t know what to tell you, Buck. Maybe she’s just excited.”

Sam cleared his throat, raising his hands as if in surrender. “Listen, man, I love my life, so I’m not spilling anything. But if she’s planning something, it’s probably just a good old-fashioned birthday party. Cake, candles, maybe some embarrassing speeches. Nothing to worry about.”

Steve nodded, grateful for Sam’s quick thinking. “Exactly. Nothing big. She probably just wants to make it special.”

Bucky studied them both for a moment, his blue eyes sharp even in the dim light. Then he laughed softly, shaking his head. “Fine. Keep your secrets. But I know she’s up to something.”

Steve exhaled, letting some of the tension ease from his shoulders. Bucky didn’t know. Not really. And as long as they kept playing it cool, he wouldn’t find out until the time was right.

That was when they heard it: your voice, ringing out from somewhere below, loud and unmistakable. “Baby! Come down, I need your help with something!”

Sam froze, his bottle halfway to his lips, before glancing at Bucky with a grin that was entirely too pleased. “Baby, huh?”

“Unbelievable,” Steve muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “She had to call you that now?”

Bucky’s grin stretched wide, his expression a mix of amusement and pride. He cupped his hands around his mouth and called back, his voice louder than yours. “I’ll be down in a minute, babydoll!”

Steve closed his eyes, willing himself to have patience. He couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. A six-foot-three super soldier—grumpy, broody, intimidating Bucky Barnes—was casually calling you “babydoll” in front of them like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Sam, predictably, couldn’t contain his laughter. “Babydoll?” he repeated, his voice cracking with amusement. “Man, I’ve heard it all now.”

Bucky shrugged, unbothered by the teasing. “What can I say? She likes it.”

“And you like her calling you ‘baby,’” Steve added, his tone half-teasing, half-exasperated.

“Damn right I do,” Bucky said, standing up and stretching. “You two can sit up here and laugh all you want, but I’ve got a girl waiting for me. Try not to get too jealous.”

As he disappeared down the stairs, Sam turned to Steve, still grinning. “You know,” he said, shaking his head, “for a guy who used to be Hydra’s deadliest weapon, he’s real soft now.”

Steve chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you’ve got someone who loves you like she does.”

Sam nodded, his grin softening into something more thoughtful. “Yeah. It’s good for him.”

Steve looked out at the stars, his mind drifting again. He couldn’t help but agree. For the first time in a long time, Bucky had someone who saw him—not as a soldier or a weapon, but as a man worth loving. And that, Steve thought, was the best gift anyone could ever give him.

Somewhere in 1946, Brooklyn.

The modest brownstone on Brooklyn’s east side stood in quiet defiance of the bustling world around it. Mrs. Winnifred Barnes—Winnie to her late husband and close friends—sat at the small kitchen table, her hands folded tightly together, a pot of tea growing cold on the counter. The house was too quiet now, emptier than it had ever been. Rebecca was at school, and though she tried to keep the chatter alive when she was home, it couldn’t fill the void left behind by James.

Her boy.

It had been several months since the letter arrived, stamped with the insignia of the United States Army. The words blurred in her mind even now, but the message was clear: Missing in Action. Presumed Dead.

Her James. Her troublemaker, her beautiful boy with his wide grin and steady blue eyes. Gone. And no one could even tell her how, or where, or if he’d suffered.

She exhaled slowly, her fingers curling tighter. Every time she thought she had no more tears left to cry, the ache returned, fresh and sharp as ever. But this time, something else lingered—a strange sense of unease, like the air had shifted. It was quiet, but not in the usual way.

Something was coming.

The knock at the door startled her. It was brisk, not hesitant like the neighbors checking in or the pastor bringing by a casserole. Winnie frowned, wiping her hands on her apron as she rose. Her steps were measured, careful, as though the visitor might vanish if she approached too quickly.

Opening the door, she was greeted by a sight that immediately threw her off balance. The young woman standing there looked as though she had stepped out of some dream—or perhaps a nightmare.

Your clothes were strange, fitted in ways Winnie couldn’t quite comprehend, and your hair was loose and flowing in a style that seemed almost scandalous. But it was your eyes that caught Winnie most—a peculiar mix of softness and urgency.

“Mrs. Barnes?” you asked, your voice steady but kind.

Winnie hesitated, her hand tightening on the doorknob. “Who’s asking?”

You smiled faintly, “I… I need to speak with you. It’s about James.”

Winnie’s heart clenched, the air suddenly too thick to breathe. “James?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“May I come in?” you asked, your tone gentle but insistent. “I promise it’ll make sense. I just need a moment of your time.”

Winnie hesitated for only a heartbeat before stepping aside. Something in your voice—or perhaps the way you said James’ name—demanded trust, though it made no sense at all.

The kitchen felt smaller with you standing there, your presence filling the room in a way Winnie couldn’t quite explain. She gestured toward the table, and you sat down without hesitation, your hands folded neatly in your lap. Winnie remained standing, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as though bracing herself.

“What do you know about my son?” Winnie asked, her voice firmer now, tinged with suspicion. “The Army already sent their letter. Unless you’re here with new information—”

“I am. There’s something you should know.” you interrupted, your eyes meeting Winnie’s with unwavering determination. “I know this is going to come as a shock but Mrs. Barnes, James isn’t dead.”

The words landed like a bombshell, shattering the fragile quiet of the room. Winnie felt her knees threaten to buckle, but she forced herself to stand tall. “What did you say?”

“He’s alive,” you said softly. “It’s a long story, and I know it’s going to sound… unbelievable. But I promise you, every word is true.”

Winnie sank into the chair opposite you, her heart pounding so loudly she was certain you could hear it. “You’d better start talking, young lady.”

You nodded, your hands tightening briefly on the edge of the table before you began. “When James fell from the train, he survived the fall. But… he didn’t come home because Hydra found him first.”

“Hydra?” Winnie repeated, frowning.

“They were… they are… a very bad group of people,” you explained, your voice tightening. “They were part of the war, working in secret. When they found James, they… they took him. He was badly injured—he lost his left arm—but they didn’t care about helping him. They used him.”

Winnie’s throat went dry, her chest tightening painfully. “Used him? For what?”

You swallowed hard, the weight of your words pressing visibly on your shoulders. “They replaced his arm with a metal one. And then… they brainwashed him. They erased who he was and turned him into someone else. They forced him to do terrible things—things he would never have done if he’d had a choice.”

Winnie stared at you, her hands trembling. “You’re telling me… my boy’s been alive all this time, and he’s been… tortured?”

“It’s worse than that,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “They put him in cryo-freeze, a kind of suspended animation. It keeps the body from aging. They would wake him up every now and then, make him do their missions, and then put him back on ice. He was never in control, Mrs. Barnes. Not once.”

The room seemed to tilt, and Winnie pressed a hand to her forehead. “I don’t understand. If all this is true, why hasn’t he come home? Why hasn’t anyone told me?”

“He couldn’t,” you said softly. “Not until recently. But now… now he’s free. He’s safe. And I wanted you to know that.”

Winnie shook her head, disbelief and hope warring in her chest. “How do you know all of this? Who are you?”

You hesitated for a moment before answering. “I’m from the future. From 2025.”

Winnie stared at you, waiting for you to laugh, to smile and admit it was all some elaborate joke. But your face remained serious, your eyes filled with an honesty Winnie couldn’t deny. “The future,” she repeated faintly.

“Yes,” you said. “I know how it sounds. But it’s true. I came back to tell you about James because… because you deserve to know.”

Winnie leaned back in her chair, her mind racing. None of it made sense, and yet something about your voice, your demeanor, made it impossible to dismiss you entirely. “If you’re from the future,” she said slowly, “then tell me something else. Tell me about… Steven Rogers.”

Your expression softened. “He’s alive too.”

Winnie gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “No.”

“He is,” you said, your voice gentle. “He survived when he put the plane down in the water. They found him 70 years later, frozen in the ice, but alive. Just like James.”

Winnie felt tears welling up in her eyes, spilling over before she could stop them. “They’re both alive,” she whispered. “My boys are alive.”

“Yes,” you said, reaching across the table to take her hand. “And they’re together. Living in Brooklyn. James is free, Mrs. Barnes. He’s been pardoned for everything Hydra made him do, and he’s a hero now. People love him.”

Winnie’s breath hitched, a sob breaking free from her chest. She clutched your hand tightly, the tears flowing freely now. “You’re sure?” she asked, her voice trembling. “You’re absolutely sure?”

“I’m sure,” you said firmly. “He’s safe. He’s happy.”

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Winnie allowed herself to believe it. Her boy was alive. And somehow, impossibly, everything was going to be okay.

Winnie’s hands, now resting limply on her lap, still trembled with the weight of what she’d been told. She didn’t know where to begin. What question could possibly make sense of the impossible? How could you, so composed and confident, sit there and tell her these outlandish, earth-shattering truths as though they were simple facts?

Her James.

Alive. Free. Safe.

But at what cost?

“Mrs. Barnes?” you asked softly, breaking the silence that had stretched too long. Your voice was patient, a warm balm against the storm raging in Winnie’s chest. “I know this is a lot to take in. If you need me to explain anything again, I’m happy to.”

Winnie blinked rapidly, forcing herself to focus. Her hands twisted together in her lap as she tried to gather her thoughts. “I—I don’t even know where to start,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “You’re telling me my son’s been alive all this time… suffering, being used like some kind of—” Her breath hitched, and she shook her head, unable to finish the thought. “How could anyone do that to him?”

Your face softened, your expression filled with sympathy. “I don’t know,” you said honestly. “Hydra is… they were ruthless. They didn’t see him as a person. They saw him as a weapon. But he’s not like that anymore. He’s found his way back to himself.”

Winnie’s gaze snapped to yours, her eyes narrowing slightly. “How do you know all of this? You’ve never told me who you are, or why you care so much about my James.”

You hesitated, your fingers tightening slightly around the edge of the table. For the first time, you looked unsure, as though the question had caught you off guard.

To Be Continued….

[lokichaoss]

I love their friendship so much it means the world to me

[cevansbrat0007]

Indecent Exposure Pt. I: Bye Bye, Daddy

Summary: You get more than you bargained for when your father decides to leave you in the care of his four best friends, your fake Uncles, while he's on away on tour for the summer. Read Part Two!

Warnings: Mature Themes, Bucky Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, Unwanted Touching, Dad's Best Friend Themes, Older Men/Younger Women Themes, Brief Discussions of Voyeurism, Brief Mentions of Mouth Soaping, Brief Reference to Spanking and Discipline, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Please heed all warnings. Part of my Indecent Exposure Series. If you'd like to be added to the tag list, please let me know.

"But Daaaad.” You whine, drawing out the word as you follow your father into the kitchen. Shoulders slumped, you can’t seem to stop yourself from pouting. 

While you’d initially made peace with the prospect of being left alone for the practically the entire summer before you planned to start your freshman year at NYU, you positively balked at the idea being left in the care of a fucking babysitter. 

Four of them, actually.

“No buts, pumpkin.” Your father drops his carry-on bag next to the door, on top of his other luggage. “It’s not good for you to be stuck in this big old house all by your lonesome. You even said as much just the other week.”

“Yeah, well…” You trail off, pissed at the fact that you’d essentially brought this on yourself. “That was back when you weren’t even sure if you were going.”

At first, your old man had been rather skeptical at going on tour with his former bandmates. They’d had a couple hits back in the day, but nothing major. Even still, they’d somehow managed to amass a bit of a cult following. 

And so when he was offered the opportunity to open for a much larger classic rock band, he just couldn’t pass it up. And you hadn’t had the heart to make him either. Dreams like this seldom came true for anybody, let alone a mild-mannered pharmacist who was pushing fifty. 

“Why can’t you at least take me with you?”

He turns to you then, heaving a sigh before pulling you into his arms. "Life on the road is no place for my little girl. Which is why I’ve asked your Uncles to check-in on you.” He presses a gentle kiss on your mop of curly hair, giving you one last squeeze before releasing you.

“And this is where I’d like to point out that I’m 18 years old, which makes me a full-fledged adult.“ Wrapping your arms around your middle, you try to play it off like you don’t care about him leaving so soon after your birthday. 

But you do. While your birthday had only been last week, you two hadn't even had the chance to embark on your annual fishing trip yet.

“I know that. Of course I know that.” He’s quick to reassure you. “And as a newly minted adult I’m sure you’ll be on your own some nights – the ones when Bucky can’t stay and none of your other uncles are available.”

“Ugh! Can you please stop calling them that?”

Little did he know that you were mere seconds away from covering your ears and letting out a frustrated scream. 

“Well, that’s what they are. They may not be blood, but it still counts.” Your father just shakes his head. Apparently he hadn’t expected you to put up this much of a fight before his departure. “And while it might be true that it’s been a while since you’ve seen your uncles, each one has assured me that they would be more than delighted to keep an eye out for their favorite niece.”

“Dad, I don’t even know them like that! At least not anymore...”

You’re rewarded with yet another weary sigh. “Then it looks like you’ll have the whole summer to get reacquainted with them then, won’t you?” His hands go to grip your shoulders, all but forcing you to look him in the eyes. “Besides, Buck’ll be around. I’m sure he’ll help ease you into everything.”

It’s impossible to stop the derisive snort that escapes the back of your throat. 

“Sweetheart, my ride is going to be here any minute now…” He tells you, making it clear that neither one of you has time for the tantrum you seem so keen on throwing. “You’ve gotta know that I only want what’s best for–”

The two of you are interrupted by the sound of a vehicle pulling into your driveway. And while you don’t recognize it, you’re almost certain that it’s too sleek and expensive to belong to any Lyft driver. 

“Speak of the devil!” Your father suddenly exclaims before throwing open the door and rushing down the steps. Which is fine, except for the part when he decided to drag you along with him. “Bucky fuckin’ Barnes – just in the knick of time too!”

Well, there went Plan A. So much for locking up the house after your Dad was gone and refusing to answer the fucking door for anyone except the pizza delivery guy. 

However, in spite of your annoyance and frustration, you can’t help the tiny jolt of electricity that hums along your skin as you watch the dark haired man peel himself out of the driver’s seat so that he can properly greet you both.  

“Get a look at you, old man!” Bucky chuckles as he enthusiastically brings your Dad in for a hug, lightly thumping his back as he does. “Can’t believe somebody actually fucked up and told you you got to be a rockstar!”

Your uncle’s smile only broadens when he finally lays eyes on you. But it’s the way he’s looking at you that catches your attention – it’s not quite a leer – but his blatant perusal is enough to make you feel the slightest bit uncomfortable. 

“I know!” Comes your Dad’s eager response. “That’s why I’m trying to get out of here before whoever signed off on this sobers up and realizes his mistake.” Both men are grinning from ear to ear when they finally take a step back. 

And that’s when all eyes turn to you. 

“And who’s this gorgeous young lady?” Bucky inquires, his pearly white teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he makes a quiet show of looking you over once again, this time allowing his gaze to linger just a fraction too long on your cutoff denim shorts. 

“Oh, come on now.” Good ol’ Dad reaches over to grab your wrist, pulling you even closer. Which is the absolute last thing you want. “Don’t tell me you don’t recognize your niece.” 

“Is that my sweet, little Clover?” Bucky pretends to rub exaggeratedly rub his eyes while evoking your childhood nickname. “I guess it is. Except now she’s all grown up.” Your Dad drops your wrist in time for the other man to grab your hand so that he can give you a little twirl. "Just turned 18, in fact."

“I heard. So pretty.” He hums, although the words are spoken just low enough so that only you can hear them. “You’ve got yourself a knockout for a daughter, Dale.” You resist the urge to squirm when you feel the roughened pad of his thumb lightly stroke along the ridges of your knuckles. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you kept a shotgun by the door.” 

While you suspect that his words are meant in jest, the only person that laughs is the man who raised you. 

“I actually keep it in the front closet. Which reminds me…” You father turns to you then, pinning you with a knowing look. “Now pumpkin, I know you're not super excited about the current arrangement and all that, but I’d appreciate it if you’d, uh, refrain from having any boys over at the house while I’m gone.” 

You swiftly open your mouth to protest, only to be surprised when Bucky beats you to the punch. 

“Roger that.” He grins down at you, the dimple in his left cheek on full display. “Your Daddy said no boys allowed, little Clover. Do we have your promise you’re gonna respect his wishes?”

Tugging your hand out his grasp, you turn your attention to your Dad, offering up a sugary sweet smile. “But what about Peter? You actually like him, remember? Besides, he’s pretty much my best friend.”

“Well…”

Because you couldn’t fathom the idea of a summer without him. And you just know he’s going to relent and make an exception. That is, until Bucky decides to go and open up his mouth. 

“You heard your Daddy, sweetheart.” He gently admonishes you, a hint of mockery in his tone. “Besides, I don’t think any of your uncles want to have to deal with strange boys wandering around the house.”

“Good man.” Your father agrees, clapping the other man on his shoulder. “And speaking of Andy, Ari, and Steve, this one here is a little nervous about seeing them again. I don’t know why. I mean it’s been a while since everyone’s gotten together…”

“Aww, bug.” He coos, wrapping a brawny arm around your much smaller waist. “Are you worried we don’t love you anymore?” You find yourself gritting your teeth to keep from elbowing him in the kidney. 

Why the hell did he have to make that sound so…suggestive? And how come your father didn't seem to notice? 

“No.” You grunt, hating the man for having the nerve to smell so damned good – like spiced vanilla and cedar. 

“Because we most certainly do. You know, Andy was just looking at your senior picture the other day.” His large, warm hand settles just above the curve of your hip. “He actually sent it to the group chat and none of us could believe just how much our little Clover had blossomed. Right under our noses.”

“A–awesome.” You mumble, wishing he would stop touching you so much. It did funny things to your belly, which you did not appreciate.

“I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it when he gets here.” 

Shock has your mouth falling open, briefly leaving you almost too stunned to make a sound. And to make matters worse, your father’s Lyft picks that very moment to pull up behind Bucky’s sports car. 

“What?” You eventually croak. Not that you receive much of a response, what with both men choosing to abandon you in favor of grabbing luggage and loading it into the driver’s trunk. 

“Alright, pumpkin.” Your Dad calls out once they’ve got everything secured. “I’ll call you from the road. I left instructions on the fridge and with Bucky. You need anything you call me, okay?” 

Seconds later you find yourself pulled into a bear hug. And, because you don’t know when you’ll see him again, you choose not to argue or struggle. You can only hug him back as if your life depends on it. 

“Be good.” He mumbles in your hair. “Listen to your uncles. It may not seem like it, but they know what's best. And you have my word that they care about you just as much as I do.” 

“Okay.” Is all you can muster as you fight back tears. “I–I love you.”

“You know it.” He holds you even tighter. “To the moon and back, plus the galaxy and beyond.” Smiling when he releases you, you watch him climb into the waiting car before giving him one last wave. 

And then he’s gone. You watch unmoving as the car backs out of the driveway and takes off down the road in the direction of the airport. It takes a moment for you to remember that you’re alone now.

Left to your own devices for the entire fucking summer. 

“Save those pretty tears, Clover.” You jump when you feel a hand press against the small of your back. “You’ve got us – me, Andy, Ari, and Steve – and won’t let anything bad happen to you.” Bucky whispers, his mouth hovering just above your ear.

“I don’t need a fucking babysitter.” You growl, stomping towards the front door.

“Fair warning, sweetheart.” He calls after you, his voice tinged with laughter as he goes to follow you inside. “Your Uncle Steve doesn’t like that kind of language. And I’m afraid Uncle Andy isn’t the type to put up with that attitude either.”

“Then tell them they should keep their asses home!” You snap as you reach the stairs, taking them two at a time all the while silently praying that he doesn’t follow.

“All I’m saying is that I’d hate to see Stevie have to wash out that pretty little mouth out with soap.” He calls from the bottom of the stairs, no longer bothering to hide his laughter. 

The fucking pervy bastard was enjoying this!

You slam your door with a flourish, briefly reveling in the sound it makes as it shakes the entire frame. If Bucky, or any of your so-called uncles thought you were still that same, sweet little girl you used to then they were in for one hell of a rude awakening.

Fuck! You’re so busy fuming over your current situation that you have no idea what’s taking place quite literally beneath your feet. For tonight, you decide that ignorance is bliss. If you got hungry later you’d just have to find something on DoorDash.

You throw yourself on your bed with a huff, punching your pillow over and again until you feel some of the rage leave your body. This summer was going to fucking blow unless you found a way to stay busy away from the house. 

Meanwhile, Bucky has taken a seat at the bottom of the stairs. Pulling out his phone he opens the group chat he has with his buddies and proceeds to start typing. Call it intuition, but he had a feeling that he and his friends getting reacquainted with their precious little Clover was going to make for one hell of summer.

Oh yes, this was going to make for one hell of a summer indeed.

END

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@cjand10

[delicatebarness]

cry baby | prologue

Summary: Meet The Avengers, the infamous friendship group. Known for causing trouble all around town, and being feared by all. Expect the youngest member of the group, she was different and she was protected.

Warning: Smoking. Alcohol. Crying.

Word Count: 1179

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A/N: The final results of the poll were 68.4% in favor of posting this now so here you go. I really hope I did this idea justice and you enjoy it! Please let me know what you think <3

Tags: buckys0whore |

The bar hummed with music, laughter, clinking glasses, and the occasional roar of a motorcycle outside. In the corner booth, among the haze of cigarette smoke and the dim glow of neon lights, sat a group of friends, claimed as The Avengers. 

Bucky Barnes leaned back in the booth, his eyes constantly scanning the room with a gaze as piercing as the edge of his knife. His presence commanded respect anywhere he went, without raising his voice. He was an enigma wrapped in leather.

A smirk played at the corner of his lips as he observed the scene at the bar. Your presence was a stark contrast to the rough ambiance of the bar. Dressed in a delicate flowing dress, out of place amidst the leather and tattoos, you were the embodiment of vulnerability in a world that praised itself on toughness. Your gaze darted nervously around the room as you waited for your drink. 

Bucky’s grip tightened around the beer bottle he had been nursing as he watched the bartender lean close to you. His jaw clenched with a quiet intensity, some instinct urged him to intervene, to protect you from whatever the guy was trying to do. But, before he could make a move he noticed Steve, your older brother and his best friend, standing closer to you. It was obvious from Steve’s expression and assertive stance that he was telling the bartender to step back.

Turning back his attention to the booth, he caught Natasha’s knowing smirk and Sam’s amused glance. They also had been watching the scene at the bar and offered small nods of approval toward Steve as you both made your way to the booth with the drinks. You were a tight-knit group, and there was an unspoken understanding that you would always protect one another. Mostly, it was you that they were protecting.

Your emotions began to bubble to the surface, tears threatened to spill over. The reasons for them, you were unsure of. Was it the presence of the new bartender? Perhaps Steve’s protective demeanor had caused them. Or maybe it was simply the atmosphere of smoke and dust. Regardless, as you settled back into the booth, the sight of Bucky’s eye-rolling toward you only worsened the urge to cry.

“Spill the beans, crybaby,” Bucky’s voice cut through the chatter of your friends around you. “What’s the verdict today? Tears of joy or sadness?” his tone dripping with sarcasm as he leaned forward.

Your cheeks flushed, and you tilted your head up hoping gravity will stop the tears from spilling. “I, I don’t know,” you mumbled softly, your voice barely audible over the noise of the bar.

As the night wore on, the bar grew increasingly rowdy and you found yourself retreating into the safety of your thoughts. No matter how hard you tried to hide your teary eyes, you couldn’t escape Bucky’s watchful gaze. 

~

As closing time drew near, there was a subtle shift that settled over the group, a silent acknowledgment that their night was coming to an end. With reluctant sighs, you began to gather your belongings. The rest of your friends picked up their packets of cigarettes and leather jackets, as you picked up your sketchbook and pencil. Preparing to leave the warmth of the bar for the cold embrace of the night, you begin to make your way to the exit. 

Bucky remained rooted in his spot in the booth, his gaze fixed on some unseen point around the bar. “Hey, Buck, you coming?” Steve called out, his voice tinged with concern as he glanced back at his friend. 

You could almost see the cogs working in his mind as he hesitated, clenching his jaw. “I think I’ll stay a bit longer,” he finally replied, his voice low. 

Wanda arched an eyebrow, confusion took over her features as Natasha spoke for you all, “Everything okay, Barnes?” she asked, her tone laced with curiosity. 

He offered you all a tight-lipped smile, a silent reassurance that didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah I’m fine,” he beamed at you all with an uncharacteristic glee. His gaze flickered over to you for a brief moment before returning to your friends. “I’ll catch up with you tomorrow,” 

With reluctant nods and murmured goodbyes, you and the rest of The Avengers made your way out of the bar, leaving Bucky alone. As the door swung shut behind you, Bucky let out a heavy sigh before making his way over to the bar.

~

With a heavy sigh, Bucky climbed the stairs to your apartment door, his footsteps echoing in the empty hallways. An hour must have passed since you would have gotten home. As he reached the familiar door, he hesitated for a moment, his already grazed knuckles hovering over the wood before finally summoning the courage to knock. 

The door swung open, revealing your concerned expression as you took in the sight of him standing on her doorstep, a black eye already began to form. 

“Bucky? What happened?” you exclaimed, your voice filled the air with concern as you ushered him inside.

He offered you a weary smile, his gaze met yours with a mixture of gratitude and exhaustion. “You should have seen the other guy,” he replied, his smile turning into a playful smirk. 

You arched an eyebrow skeptically, as you gestured for him to take a seat at the kitchen table. “Let’s just get you patched up,” you sent him a reassuring smile as you moved around your kitchen to fetch the first aid kit. 

As you began cleaning and dressing his wounds, he couldn’t help but marvel at the tenderness of your touch. Your hands moved with practiced precision while you stood in between his tights. Despite his attempts to downplay his injuries, he winced slightly as the antiseptic stung, his jaw clenching. 

A wave of emotion washed over you, and tears began to well up in your eyes, a silent testament to the guilt you carried from causing him more pain and discomfort. 

Bucky’s heart clenched at the sight of your tears, forgetting about his own pain momentarily as he reached out to gently cup your cheeks, wiping away the evidence of her distress. A gesture as gentle as it was instinctual. “Hey, what’s wrong?”  he asked softly, his hand never leaving your cheek.

You swallowed hard, your gaze flickering away from his as you struggled to find the words you wanted to say, “I, I don’t like when you’re hurt,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. 

A pang of guilt twisted in his chest as he realized the hurt he was causing. Without hesitation, he pulled you into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around your waist. “I know, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice filled with regret as he felt your tears dampen his skin. “I’m sorry,” 

In the warmth of his embrace, you found comfort, and the weight of your worries subsided by the rhythm of his heartbeat. You nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, calming your emotions with every passing second.

---

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

[deliciousangelfestival]

Guilt

Character: Mob!Bucky x Police!Female Reader

Summary: "Of all the women in the world, does she have to be a cop?" Bucky, a gangster, fell in love at first sight with a policewoman.

At the golf course, two outstanding men in the mob world are playing golf together to have a quiet time, to forget the worst day at the club they owned.

Steve, the second person in charge, still feels frustrated, while Bucky, the leader, is the only one enjoying the game.

"Of all the women in the world, does she have to be a cop?" Steve, his childhood friend, asked as he watched Bucky hit the golf ball.

Bucky clenched his fist in frustration as he made the shot. Turning to Steve, he replied, "I can't help it. She just took my breath away the first time I saw her."

Steve sighed, recalling the first encounter between Bucky and the policewoman when their club was unexpectedly visited by the narcotics police force.

Steve sighed, "She's known as a scary person, even among her colleagues," he said, relaying what he had learned from his connections.

"And from what happened last night, I feel like she holds a big grudge against people like us," Steve continued, reflecting on the recent events. Most of the cops he knew turned a blind eye to their business dealings, never getting involved with drugs.

Bucky remembered how composed you had been last night, effortlessly throwing punches and giving orders to make arrests. He even recalled the moment you pushed him to the ground and handcuffed him.

At that instant, he knew you were different from other women.

Bucky took another swing at the golf ball, causing it to fly too far. With a smile, he declared, "I will make her mine."

Steve sighed deeply, realizing that once Bucky had made up his mind, no one could stop him.

As Bucky began his courtship, he tried various approaches to get closer to you:

1. He sent you flowers with cryptic notes, hinting at his admiration and interest.

2. Bucky strategically positioned himself at events where you were present, making sure to catch your eye without being too obvious.

3. He orchestrated chance encounters, bumping into you at coffee shops or restaurants, always ready with a charming smile and a casual conversation starter.

4. He even went as far as anonymously sending you a gifts or helpful tips related to your work, trying to show his support and understanding of your profession.

But you didn't give any reaction; you consistently ignored him.

Bucky didn't mind your game of "playing hard to get." He was confident that in the end, you couldn't resist him.

However, his confidence wavered when you finally spoke to him, your words cutting through the air like icy daggers. "In 2022, Bobby Smith died because of a gunshot. He was my fiancé."

Bucky's face drained of color, his body going rigid with shock. The revelation hit him like a sledgehammer, the weight of guilt crashing down upon him. His mind raced as he realized the implication: Bobby Smith's death was because of him.

After the revelation, would Bucky give up his pursuit, or would he persist despite the overwhelming guilt?

[sosa2imagines]

Let us be there for you...Part 2

Warning- Angst, fluff, introvert, shyness.

You’d always been the type to say “yes” to everything. You didn’t want to let anyone down. Especially not your new team. So when someone asked you for help, whether it was a mission, a training session, or just to hang out, you said yes.

You said yes because you were afraid to say no. You were afraid no one would want you around if you couldn’t say yes. You didn’t want to be rejected or left alone because you were “selfish” enough to say no. So you never said no, you always forced yourself to say yes.

Every time. Even when you were exhausted, even when you just needed a moment of peace.

You were exhausted, both mentally and physically. Every time you said yes, it was like adding another brick to your already full load. Your body was screaming to stop, to slow down, but you didn’t listen. You didn’t know how to say no, so you kept going. You kept forcing yourself to say yes, even as your mind and body were slowly breaking down.

You had no idea how to ask for a break. No idea how to express how overwhelmed you were. Because if you did, what if the others saw you as weakness? What if they saw you as a burden and sent you away?

That’s when Steve stepped in.

It started subtly. You’d find yourself in the common room, tense, avoiding everyone’s eyes because you didn’t know how to say no.

Steve would show up with that steady, understanding smile of his, pulling you aside to chat, and before you knew it, you were talking. Just talking, about how you felt, about how hard it was to constantly keep up appearances.

And he listened. Steve listened to you, truly listened to you. He didn’t judge, he didn’t dismiss your feelings. Instead, he showed empathy, understanding.  He didn’t just brush off your words, he cared. He cared about how you felt.

“I know what it’s like,” Steve would say, his voice quiet but reassuring. “It’s hard to admit when you’re overwhelmed, but you don’t have to take it all on yourself. You’ve got us.”

You never realized how much you needed to hear those words until now.

Slowly, you started spending more time with him, more quiet conversations, more moments of just being yourself. The connection between you both deepened, and it felt like a weight was lifting.

But while it felt like a relief for you, it wasn’t so easy for Bucky.

Bucky had always been close to Steve, so seeing him spend more time with you had rubbed him the wrong way. He didn’t understand why Steve was spending so much time with you, why he wasn’t hanging out with him instead.

You first noticed it during dinner one evening. You’d been sitting with Steve, talking about the latest mission plans, when Bucky walked in.

He glanced over, saw you with Steve, and froze. The air between them was thick with something you couldn’t quite place. It was subtle so subtle, in fact, that you might’ve missed it if you weren’t paying attention, but there was a shift. A kind of... tension.

The next few days were more of the same. Bucky seemed quieter around you, his usual teasing replaced with a cool indifference. And whenever you spent time with Steve, Bucky was nowhere to be found.

It wasn’t until you overheard them, that the truth hit you.

It was late, the tower quiet, and you had been about to head to your room when you heard voices in the hallway. You froze, instinctively stepping back into the shadows, trying not to be noticed.

“What’s all this about you spending time with Y/n?” Bucky asked bluntly, his voice laced with annoyance.

Steve raised an eyebrow, his expression cool and calm. “What do you mean?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean. You’re always hanging out with her now. It’s like you’ve forgotten about me.”

Steve’s expression softened slightly, but he didn’t give in. “I’m not allowed to have other friends, then?”

Bucky’s scowl deepened. “That’s not what I’m saying and you know it. You used to hang out with me all the time, and now it’s like I’m an afterthought.”

Steve sighed. “Bucky, it’s not like that. I’m allowed to spend time with other people, just like you are.”

Bucky crossed his arms, his annoyance still evident. “But it’s like you’re spending all your time with Y/n. What happened to us hanging out together? We used to do everything together!”

The pain in Bucky’s voice was unexpected, and it twisted something inside you. You felt guilty. Guilty for not seeing this sooner, guilty for the unintentional rift you were causing between two people who were like brothers to each other.

You didn’t want to be the cause of this. So, you did what you always did, you made a decision. You had to fix it.

The next day, you found Bucky in the training room, kicking around a punching bag like it owed him money. You hesitated for a moment, then walked in. He didn’t acknowledge you at first, but you could see the way his shoulders tensed when you approached.

“Bucky,” you said softly, not sure where to start. “Can we talk?”

He paused, then looked up, his expression unreadable. “What about?”

“I know... I know it’s been a bit strange lately...” you began, choosing your words carefully. “You’ve probably noticed that Steve and I have been spending more time together, and I just... I need you to know something.”

Bucky crossed his arms, his gaze never leaving you. “I’ve noticed.”

You took a deep breath, your heart beating faster. “The reason why Steve has been spending time with me...” you paused, unsure of how to say it, but then you forced yourself to continue. “It’s because I’ve been struggling. I’ve been having a hard time keeping up with everything, and Steve’s been helping me through it. I just can't say no to anyone and lately...I've been feeling like I'm drowning...”

Bucky’s expression changed from annoyance to surprise as you spoke. He had expected a different reason, and the truth took him off guard. “You…you’re having a hard time?” he asked, his voice losing some of its edge.

You nodded, feeling vulnerable but also relieved to finally admit it out loud. “Yeah,” you said quietly. “I’ve been putting on this mask for so long, trying to be the person everyone expects me to be...but it’s been exhausting. I just can’t keep up anymore. I feel like... if I say no... they'll be disappointed or think I'm rude...”

Bucky’s expression softened further, and he could no longer keep the annoyance. He looked at you with empathy, understanding what you were going through.

“Why didn’t you say something?” he asked, his voice quiet.

“I was afraid,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I was afraid of being seen as weak, being seen as a burden. I thought I had to be strong for everyone...it’s just... Steve and I were talking about this, and he just... he knows what it’s like to feel like you have to be everything to everyone. He didn’t make me feel like I was weak for needing help. And I guess... I guess I needed that.”

Bucky’s expression softened even more, feeling guilty for thinking you were taking Steve away from him. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I had no idea you were feeling like that. And Steve... he’s been a good friend to you, hasn’t he?”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Yeah, he has,” you replied. “He’s been there for me when I needed someone to listen. He doesn’t judge me, he just...he understands.”

Bucky’s mind was racing. He felt guilty for doubting you and Steve, for not realizing how much you were struggling. Now that he knew the truth, he couldn’t help but feel protective of you.

He silently vowed to himself that he would be there for you just like Steve had been. He promised to himself that if he can help Steve, he could help you too.

Bucky reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder, his voice serious but gentle.

“You’re not alone, you know,” he said. “Steve might be helping you, but you have other friends too. Including me.”

His words hung in the air, and you caught a glimpse of the sincere intent in his eyes. He meant every word he said.

The weight that had settled on your chest began to lift, a sense of relief flowing through you. “Thank you, Bucky. I’m really sorry I didn’t see this sooner. I don’t want to cause any more tension between you two.”

Bucky shrugged, the usual smirk on his face. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll work it out. But if you ever need help again, you know I’m right here for you.”

And just like that, the tension seemed to dissolve. What was once a fragile moment of hurt and miscommunication had turned into an opportunity for all of you to grow.

That evening, you found yourself in the common room with both Steve and Bucky, the three of you talking and laughing together. It felt right. You had your team, your friends, and they had your back. And now, you were learning how to lean on them when you needed it most.

You didn’t have to carry everything on your own. You weren’t alone anymore.

Part 1 - Part 3

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[thyme-in-a-bubble]

punishment on the poker table

a/n: i've had this fantasy floating around in my brain ever since i came up with this au. damn it feels good to finally have it written out all sluttily as it deserves to be

summary: “well, well, well… what do we have here…” he slowly swept his broad thumb across your tender flesh as he gazed down at the discovery, “just a friend, huh? However, did you manage to lose your panties hanging out with your friend? Come on, I think we’d all love to know.” 

warnings: camgirl!reader x various, pornstar!lee bodecker, pornstar!ari levinson, pornstar!lloyd hansen, pornstar!nick fowler, smut, porn au, college au, reader’s porn name is cherry blossom (UrLittleCherry), filming pornography, reader has been in the porn industry for a while now (maybe a few months?), voyeurism, exhibitionism, gangbang, daddy kink (probably the only scenario where you can catch me playing around with this kink, because in most circumstances it's sadly not my cup of tea), classic porn step fantasy, impact play, pussy inspection, hair pulling, masturbation, fingering, pussyjob, oral, handjob, dirty talk, size kink, manhandling, multiple orgasms, squirting, penetrative sex, anal, unprotected sex

word count: 2850

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

sugar & spice au masterlist | 101, intro to the au

masterlist | join my taglist 

“Hey beautiful,” you heard over your shoulder as you sat in the kitchen of the rented house you found yourself in, putting the last finishing touches on your makeup for today’s shoot. 

Twisting around, you swiftly leapt from your seat as you recognised the figure leaning against the doorframe “Ari!” you threw your arms around his bulky form, “hi! How are you?”

“Can’t complain,” his broad palm ran down your spine before you retracted from the embrace, “how about you? I’ve heard you’ve been quite busy lately.”

“Yeah, I have,” a short giggle bubbled out of you, “but it’s been so much fun, though I’m still figuring out the balancing act between this, camming and school.” 

As his feet then began to shuffle, your own shifted as well and carried you back out into the other room where crew members slipped around and prepped the space. With half of their attention directed at their work, their heads still twisted as they zigzagged between the rest of the stars for today’s fantasy, as the guys, lounging on the set, dragged their old friends into whatever they were chatting about. 

“Oh, I didn’t know you’d all arrived,” each of their head twisted at the sound of your voice, “I thought Ari was the only one apart from me.”

“Sorry to disappoint, sweetheart,” Nick caught your palm as you neared the poker table they surrounded and pressed his lips to the back of it. 

“Good to see you again, Nicky,” you chuckled as the warmth of his peck lingered on your skin. 

“Oh, you guys have worked together before?” Ari sank down into the last of the chairs around the games table.

“Uhm, well, we have,” you gestured to the brunette who’d just kissed your hand, “a fun little POV shoot a month ago,” your gaze then drifted to Ari, “and we’ve of course worked together, I don’t think I’ll have to remind you of that,” you smiled before shifting your vision to the last two, “but, this is my first time with each of them,” you pointed between the two moustachioed men before grasping first the hand of the one to the left, “Lloyd,” a flutter flicked through your lower abdomen as you met the pornstar’s dazzling gaze, “hi.”

“Don’t get starstruck on me now,” he winked, “if you’re gonna cream your panties, wait till the camera’s rolling.” 

Puffing out an airy laugh at his joke, “no promises,” you then shifted to catch the other man’s palm, “and Lee,” he slowly rose from his seat as he shook your hand, “or should I say daddy,” a small chuckle rumble in his chest as you warmed up to the title he’d get to adorn in today’s storyline, “wonderful to finally meet you.”

“You too,” he smiled, then added before he let go of your fingers, “I’ve been looking forward to finally working with you.”

“Really?” an amazed grin lit up your face as you blinked back at the seasoned professional. 

“Oh yeah, just ask my agent. I’ve been quite literally begging for this to happen.”

“Have you ever shot a gangbang before?” Lloyd then asked. 

“Uhm, no,” you shook your head, “first gangbang–, or well, on screen that is. Although I haven’t ever been with four guys at once before, so that’s new,” your glance flickered over each of their faces, “but I’m excited! I’m prepped and ready, this is gonna be fun.” 

But before your face could heat up any further, the doors to the room burst open and in strolled, not only the head of the studio, Romanoff Productions, but also the visionary who had signed on to direct the shoot herself. 

“Oh, great! You’re all here,” Natasha came to a stop right before you all, “then it won’t be long now,” she stated before landing her gaze on you, “Cherry, should we take a look at what you’re gonna wear?”

“Yeah,” you followed along as she then slipped back into her swift stride, “I brought a few options, some different plaid skirts, all depending on what colour you had in mind.”

The camera low in Natasha’s grasp shadowed your ass, shyly peeking out from under your short blue plaid skirt with every quiet step, as you sneaked down the hallway from the front door and into the dimly lit living room. 

“Breaking curfew…” a deep voice then rumbled somewhere in the darkness. 

Spinning around, you spotted the group of men surrounding the round table in the corner, “Lee! Oh my god,” faking a fright, you clasped a palm over your exposed chest, as your tight shirt wasn’t just sparsely buttoned, but also gathered up and tied around your waist. 

“Lee?” Lloyd murmured and shifted the cards in his grasp, “is that what you call your stepfather?” 

Sinking your teeth down into your bottom lip, you quietly uttered, “…daddy...”

“Good girl,” Lee nodded, though didn’t glance over his shoulder at you as he then dropped his cards to the table and sighed, “now, are you gonna tell me why you were out so late or should I just punish you without knowing the full reason? I’m fine either way,” his fingers gently played with a stack of poker chips beside him. 

“Oh, I don’t know if that is necessary,” you swiftly shook your head and attempted to shuffle closer towards the staircase, “I'm only 45 minutes late–”

“Come here,” his command was low and clear as his glare finally locked upon your figure in the dark. 

“What?” your fingers fiddled lightly with the hem of your skirt, fluttering just above where a pair of long socks stretched up to. 

“Cherry, you can come here right now, or you can get out of my house.”

Though it was all just pretend, his low tone still sent a shiver down your spine, “you’re gonna kick me out? Just for staying out a little bit too late?”

“But that’s not all you were doing, was it?” he tilted his head before pushing his chair back a few inches from the poker table, “come on,” his palm came down to clap his thigh, “don’t act like this is the first time your bratty ass has needed to be taken over my knee.”

Glancing around to the others, “shouldn’t we go up to my room? You have company,” you added in a whisper. 

“Oh, they don’t mind,” he stated, keeping his gaze locked upon you as he raised his voice, “do you boys?”

“Not in the slightest,” Nick smirked and leaned back in his seat, eyeing you just as brashly as the rest of them did. 

Slowly, you closed the distance to stand beside Lee’s seated form, though before even offering you another glance, the older man seized your frame and tilted you over his lap. 

With your bottom barely covered in your tiny schoolgirl skirt, a yelp slipped up from your lungs as Lee sent his hand down to land, not a light beginning tap across it, but a harsh smack that had you jumping in his lap. 

“So, are you gonna come clean and tell us all what you have been up to, young lady?” he asked after you’d lost count of his generous spanks. 

“I-I was just hanging out with a friend from school,” you squeaked and dug your fingers into his thigh. 

Though as his palm came down upon your ass once again, the smack caused your flimsy skirt to flip up, just enough for him to catch sight of the secret it had been hiding. 

“Well, well, well… what do we have here…” he slowly swept his broad thumb across your tender flesh as he gazed down at the discovery, “just a friend, huh? However, did you manage to lose your panties hanging out with your friend? Come on, I think we’d all love to know.” 

But you kept your mouth shut as goosebumps pricked and covered your skin.

“Fine,” the word that left his lips was accompanied by a swift spank that soared across your bare bottom, “you don’t wanna talk? I’ll just have a look myself then,” he murmured before tilting closer, ever so slightly, and began to spread you apart. 

“What are you–,” you peeked back at him over your shoulder, though your objection melted from your lips as his touch then swept through your glistening folds, “oh, f-fuck…”

“Doesn’t seem to me like you were just hanging out with a friend…” sticky strings of want created a web as Lee probed your puffy petals apart, letting him inspect your little hole, “…you know, I don’t ask much of you, but I do require you to obey my rules, and this?” his touch ghosted against your clit, making you swallow a moan, “this breaks nearly all of them.”

“I'm sorry, I just–”

“Sorry is not gonna cut it anymore! You’re gonna have to learn that there are consequences to your actions,” he growled before landing a swift slap against your glistening pussy, causing you to let out another cry. 

As you tried to wiggle off his lap, the hand he’d had splayed across your lower back soared up to tangle itself in the hair at the base of your neck to keep you in place as he let his fingers sweep through your folds. 

“You just need a bit tough love to learn the rules, that’s all…” he uttered over the sinful symphony of his persistent touch against your embarrassingly wet cunt. 

“You’re a fucking pervert,” you grumbled through a heavy pant. 

“You can call me whatever you want, I don’t fucking care,” his grip in your hair then tightened as he yanked you closer, your back having to arch to reach the angle he searched for, “you can either get what you deserve, or I can throw you out on your ass,” his breath fanned across your hot cheek as his lips nearly grazed it with every seething word he uttered, “it’s your choice.” 

“…fine,” you finally replied through your gritted teeth before his grasp let go of your hair and sent you back down to stare at the floor.  

Slowly, as Lee slipped a finger inside of you and gradually began to stretch you out, your eyes drifted shut and didn’t flutter back open till another one of his digits had eased inside of you and tickled out a quiet whimper, deep from within your soul. However, as you blinked your eyes back open, they fluttered up to discover the hard lengths that the others around the poker table had freed from their pants. 

“Oh my god!” your eyes widened as you watched their fists slowly jerk up and down, leisurely stroking themselves as they stared at you, “Lee! Your friends, they’re–”

“Shh,” he kept up his touch as you began to quiver, “don’t mind them.” 

By the time you were fighting the unbearable urge to cum, your body was flailing so fiercely that Lee had to clasp a forearm down around your waist in order to keep you over his lap. In the intoxicating fog you found yourself submerged in, someone caught your hand, and it wasn’t till moments later that it truly sank through your haze and you squinted over to discover Lloyd’s grasp engulfing your own, as he guided your touch over himself, his girth throbbing beneath your fingers. The vision alone was enough for you to throw in the towel and lose the battle to the high that then promptly washed over you. 

Before your daze had a chance to fade, your frame was flipped back upright to briefly sit in Lee’s lap, and your reality was still so fuzzy that it took a moment for you to register when some of the others reached out to rip your shirt off, though the blue plaid that clung around your hips as well as the high socks, those were allowed to stay perfectly in place. 

“You wanna fucking learn what happens to little sluts, huh?” Lee clutched your jaw in his grasp and growled against your cheek, “because that’s how you’re acting, so you might as well learn what it’s like to be treated as one.” 

Flinging you around, he manhandled you onto the table, the others swiftly swiping away the cards and chip stacks out of the way before you landed in the middle.  

“Since you’ve got no problem spreading your legs for your little friends, then mine shouldn’t be an issue either, should it now?” 

“I–,” you panted, blinking up at Lee as he nudged your trembling thighs apart, “fuck…”

“What was that?” he smacked your sensitive cunt to conjure a clearer answer. 

“Ah!” you let out a shriek, “no, daddy! Fine! Let them use me, what do I care!”

“Oh, you’ll care, babydoll…” Lloyd swiftly snatched up your right hand and brought it back to his cock, “must warn you, we aren’t as gentle as those little boys you hang out with.”

“But that’s alright, isn’t it?” Nick smirked as he seized your other hand and yanked it towards his own dick, “your cute little pussy deserves the punishment.”

Glancing between them all, you uttered, “you’re all sick.”

“Says the girl who just came,” Lloyd pointed out through a short chuckle. 

“I did nothing wrong!” you continued, raising your voice, “everyone my age fools around! It’s not like I came home knocked up or anything–”

“Somebody shut her up,” Lee suddenly exhaled before Ari appeared above your head and swiftly stuffed his fat girth into your mouth, snuffing out the remainder of your sentence as it vibrated against his cock. 

Your legs were then folded up till both Lloyd and Nick at your sides caught them and held your limbs in place, keeping you open for Lee as he fiddled with his fly. 

Staring down at your pussy, Lee finally freed his cock and uttered, “now…” offering himself a gentle stroke as he took a step closer to you, “what are we gonna do to you…” he then tapped the heavy weight of his dick against your petals, making you squirm as sticky strings of desperation clung to his length, “maybe a little something here? Is that what you need in order to finally respect my rules?” he briefly flicked the bulbous head through your folds before his lips tilted into a sly smirk, “nah, I don’t think so… you need to be filled up somewhere that hasn’t already fucked tonight.” 

And then, with the slickness now glistening up his cock, as well as the juices that had already leaked and dripped down, Lee began to split open your ass. 

A cry promptly escaped you at the mind-numbing stretch, though as the sound vibrated against Ari’s girth, he only seized the opportunity and slid down even further till the staggering imprint of his size was bulging in your throat and his heavy sack was nuzzled up against your face.

“That’s it…” Lee groaned as he slowly filled you up, “that’s what you needed, isn’t it, kiddo?”

Though you had no clue who, a few of the men began to play with your tits, offering them playful smacks to make them jiggle hypnotically or even tug and pull on your pebbly nipples. 

“Oh, would you look at that fucking cunt?” you heard Lloyd grunt as he watched closely at how your empty pussy was blowing euphoric bubbles, before you felt him reach down to grab your desperate core, pinching the puff a moment as they all marvelled in unison. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she’s enjoying her little lesson,” Ari chuckled as you choked on his cock. 

“How could she not?” Nick reached down and slipped a finger inside your leaky hole, “you’re just a little whore for your stepdad and his friends, aren’t you?”

Sliding a digit in as well beside the other pornstar’s, Lloyd then murmured, “maybe instead of playing poker when we come over, we could all just play with you.”

Letting his cock slip out of your mouth, Ari craned down to touch you as well and began to bully your puffy clit, “yeah, you’d be a perfect little toy, wouldn’t you? Your daddy will teach you right how to treat us all.”

As Lee’s heavy sack smacked against your slick skin at his next deep thrust, you once again unravelled before them all, though this time in a rippling display that had your poor pussy gushing around the men’s fingers.

“Oh! That’s a good fucking girl!” Lee pulled his cock out of your ass before he joined in on the other’s torture, though didn’t stop till you were shaking violently beneath them and they couldn’t tickle forth anymore squirt from your overstimulated cunt, “I honestly didn’t think you had it in you, but just look,” he caught your eye, “you’re learning already.” 

A smile found his features before he then, without warning, stuffed his girth into your pussy, beside the fingers that no one, not even himself, slipped out, but instead utilised the leverage to pry your clambering and sensitive pussy open for Lee’s fat girth. 

© 2025 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Look, Don't Touch 1

Warnings: this fic includes noncon/rape, stalking, breaking and entering, possible blood and violence, and femcel energy. Tags are not exhaustive and more may be added as the series progresses.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You get bored of watching and that makes you careless. (dark!reader)

Characters: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes

Note: Well, well, well, if it isn't another bad decision.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like snakes love Woody’s boots. Take care. 💖

The spectrum of city lights gleam through the window casting a soft glow over the lofty condo. Spacious and pristine, everything in exactly its place, even the shadows seem to assemble in orderly fashion along the pale wall. A fine contrast to your chaotic existence on the peripheral.  

You sit, staring down the treacherous drop. A single pane between you and the end. Your phone dims as it rests against the thumb grip, wires still woven from the port into the palm sized box. You can find anything on the dark web if you go deep enough. 

The alarm was easy enough to override with the device, you still feel a sliver of adrenaline. How your heart beats thunderously as you watch the screen race through columns of numbers. You expect a blaring siren, instead the door clicks and a low beep grants your entry. 

It's nothing bad. Not really. You’re tired of watching, of waiting, for what? You're not sure. It’s not as if you want him to notice you, you do your best to make sure he doesn't. Maybe one day when you're ready. Whatever that means. 

You shut the lights off once you get the photos, each room from every angle. So you have a reference to make sure everything's where it belongs when you go. Unlike you. 

You don’t belong here. Or anywhere. So you have no issue crossing those lines, because no matter where you step, you’re out of place. 

If anyone knew, they might think you've done this before. You’ve dreamed of it. Maybe, a bit too often. 

It's the online boards that make you so thorough, checking things you never even considered. Of course, those neckbeards are looking to scare some skinny blonde they don't have a chance with. You don't want to scare Steve, you just want to know him, if even from a distance. 

You always just watch. Is that so bad? You don't get in his way, you don't try anything, you just follow. 

Well, it's about time you came inside. You don't get much of a view from the outside. The reflection of the other buildings tend to make the distance further. A whole year and you don't know why you’ve waited so long. It’s not like he’ll know. 

You stand up and unplug your phone, turning on the flashlight as you point it ahead if you. You stop to admire the pictures framed and hung of him and his comrades, both old and new, dead and alive. You continue down the hall, back to the bedroom and peer around. 

You spread out on the bed. You can smell him, his sweat and the soap he uses. You know from his receipts. From skulking around behind him at the grocery stores you can’t afford to shop at.  

You close your eyes and imagine he's there with you. Watching you too. The two of you, peaceful, comfortable, like you've never been with anyone in your life. An indolent complicity. 

It’s lies. You know that’s not how it goes. If he knew about you, he’d be just as repulsed as any other guy. And you’re not the type for the sappy shit. You don’t want love, you just want a thrill. 

You put the phone down, the light glowing on the other side of your eyelids as it shines on the ceiling. You feel along your dark jeans and slide your fingers under your fly. You sigh as you feel yourself getting wet.  

You flick your clit and moan. You say his name and do it again, a steady motion as you wish he was there, hand down your pants as he fucks you with his fingers, reading a book as if he isn't rock hard over it. It must be extraordinary to have someone else touching you. It’s getting boring, just you. 

You cum quickly, surprised as usually you need your toys. More reliable than any man, you scoff and free your hands from the denim. 

You sit up slowly and wipe your cum on his pillow. Maybe he'll smell it, will he know what it is? Would he like it? 

You get up and stretch. You take your phone and check the time. You should go. He'll be home soon, you know he met his pal for drinks at seven. Funny, you were under the impression beer didn't affect enhanced beings. 

You go back to the living room and pack up. You plug in the cipher once more and head for the door. You re-arm the alarm and carry on down the hall. 

You stop at the elevator and wait. It opens and you suppress your surprise. Well, you’re not that shocked as his timing is always precise. Not to mention, he lives here. Steve Rogers hesitates before he gets off the elevator, blanching as he sees you.  

“Sorry,” he smiles at you. 

It’s not a real smile. It’s just his surprise. It’s courtesy. Steve fucking Rogers is high and above you. 

“It’s fine,” you say snidely as you stare at him dully. 

He only thinks to get off when his companion, Bucky Barnes, does first. You wait for them to pass you, the second man meeting your eyes as he passes. You see a spark of curiosity in his eye but it quickly dies. You’re not that interesting, especially at first glance. You rely on that. 

You step onto the elevator, nearly caught in the doors as you do. You turn to watch them walk down the hallway. They have no idea, you're just another faceless New Yorker. 

📷

It's weird, you think. Anyone else would be jealous to see the scene. They would crumple at the burning envy in their gut but you feel something much more intense. You're fucking horny. 

Your perch on the roof of the building a block from Steve's is bitter and blustery. You have the scope set up, cell phone in the holder, to align the lens. The red dot flashes to show that it's recording. 

You adjust the angle and zoom in on the screen. The set-up is simple enough once it's set up, if the app isn't a bit tedious. You take another drink from your thermos and huddle beneath your hoodie. 

You wish you could hear it. The slapping of flesh, the groans in his constricted throat, even the woman's airy breaths as she grips the back of the couch, teeth bared as Steve ruts from behind. America's golden boy getting his kicks from some bimbo he met down at the bar. Again. 

You want to be in her place. Or even just a bit closer. If it was you, it’d be a lot less predictable. He’ll finish, slap her ass, and send her off.  

You yawn as he grabs onto her shoulders, pulling her back gruffly as he rams into her hard. The aggression is what surprises. Steve Rogers is all smiles and sweet words for the cameras he knows are there, but behind closed doors, he’s brutal. The woman’s face contorts as the pain wracks her body.  

She doesn’t stop, lets him use her. Just like you would. If you even had a chance in hell, you’d lick his cum off the shield. Fuck, if he wasn’t obsessed with those barbie dolls, he might actually try something new. 

You don't hate her, don't feel an ounce of anger. She's doing you a favour, putting on a show just for you. An image you’ll never forget, that you’ll cherish on lonely nights. 

You shiver as heat nestles in your core. Your hand falls to your jeans, lingering just beneath your heavy parka. It’s too cold to do that now. You retract your arm and sigh. When you get home you’ll have to rewatch it with your favourite toy. 

Before your mind wanders too far, there’s a metal click and the loud clang of the bar across the other side of the door. Shit. You quickly grab your phone and collapse the tripod. You take down the lens and shove it all into the duffel, twisting the lid of your thermos tight and tossing it in before scooping up the unzipped bag. 

Footsteps scuff across the concrete roof as you scurry behind one of the wide chimneys and lean against the cinder block. You hold your breath as a man calls out, “hello?” he paces around, “someone out here?” 

Fuck! You put your head back. You won’t be coming back here again. It took you weeks to find the place and get the right angle, a good distance to keep from alerting Steve but not too far either. 

A flashlight casts a yellow light back and forth but doesn’t come close to you as you stay still. The man grunts and grumbles as his soles pad away and the door slams heavily. You wonder what gave you away. You disarmed the alarm on the door before you came up and no one passed you on the stairs. 

Maybe just a regular sweep by the building. You shrug and check the bag before zipping it up. You wait ten more minutes before going to the door and picking the lock. You assure yourself as you descend, you got more than enough to tide you over at least a couple weeks. 

📷

The cafe is busy enough to compound your insignificance. You’re hard to notice on a good day. A hoodie, jeans, just another body in the overcrowded city. You sit with a bottle of water and cookie you won’t eat, pretending to read as others are more obvious in their observation. 

Steve Rogers sits by the window, as if he wants to be seen, chatting over a steaming mug with the stalwart Bucky Barnes. Their conversation seems to frustrate the latter as several patrons interrupt them, asking for a picture or autograph to accompany their lattes and creamy frappucinos. As Steve acquiesces, Bucky leans back and crosses his arms, scowling as he refuses to engage. 

You grin. You kind of get the dude. You hate people, hate the city and the pedants looking for their fifteen minutes or living the delusion that their New York adventure is destined for greatness. You glance back at the page but your eyes don’t focus on the words. 

It’s why you can’t be with Steve. Why you don’t want to be. You just want to watch. You don’t like being noticed. Hate the idea of being watched. You’re not a part of the show, you like being just another faceless figure in the audience. 

Your eyes flick back up. Steve is back to leaning over his cup, an Americano, how fitting. His large hand punctuates whatever point he’s making as you admire the vein in his neck, just above his collar. 

You’re startled as Bucky rests his chin in his hand and you meet his gaze. You don’t react and hide behind the book again. Maybe a bit too obvious. 

You pretend to read for a few minutes then reach for your phone, checking the time. You should leave first. You close the book without marking the page and take your water and cookie and put it in your bag, the patched messenger showing its years. 

It rests against your hip as you stroll out, ignoring the super soldiers until you’re outside. You peek back as you pass the window and Bucky squints at you. What the fuck is his problem? You tuck your head down and continue down the sidewalk. You’ll have to be careful about him. 

📷

You close your journal and tuck it under your mattress. The bed takes up much of your bachelor apartment. You don’t mind the lack of space, it’s just you. It’s preferable to your previous roommates who assured you cohabitation is little more than a form of torture. 

You climb off the twin mattress and stretch as you go to the corner which constitutes your kitchen; a microwave above a compact stove, a fridge that looks straight out of the 60s, and a foot long countertop under a single cupboard. Not much but you often forget to eat as your mind overshadows any physical needs. 

You tear open a package of ramen and add water, shoving it in the nuke as you turn to lean against the counter. Your tall dresser holds most of your possessions, clothes, the pictures, your equipment, and a few toys. Nothing special, just like you. 

The microwave beeps and you put the bowl on the counter. You grab your phone and return, eating at the kitchenette as you slouch to keep from dribbling. You scroll through your phone, several alerts for Steve Rogers in the news. 

‘Cap’s UN Mission: Can he restore America’s repute on the international stage?’ You browse the article and a smile slowly forms as you forget your food and stand, lifting the phone as you search for more.  

The media really is dangerous, you muse. There are exact dates for the conference and Cap’s appearances. That means his place will be empty. It means you’ll be living it up, at least for a few days. 

📷

It’s been more than a month since your first visit to Steve’s apartment. Nothing’s changed and you feel a little less restless there. You know he won’t be back anytime soon so there’s no rush to do much more than bask in the remnants of his presence. 

You can still smell him on the bed sheets and his dirty clothes are still in the hamper. You sort through them, feeling them, sniffing a few shirts. You push the basket back into the corner and search the drawers of his nightstand. Lube, some porn magazines, relics really, and some random odds and ends.  

You go out to the front room and lay on the couch, flicking on the television. The Smithsonian channel. Predictable. You leave it there and watch the hour-long program on clockmaking. Riveting. 

You don’t pay much attention as you stare at the ceiling and think about him. It was that couch where he fucked her. On her knees, clinging to the back as he let loose his strength, not a care for her. You haven’t seen her since. She must’ve expected something different; maybe to be doted on. Pathetic. 

Your hand wanders along the edge of the cushion. Your fingertips brush fabric in the crease of the cushions and you sit up as you pull out the lacy thong. You hold it up and stand, looking down as you hang them against your jeans as if you were wearing them. For him. 

You scoff and bunch them up, tossing them behind the couch. Yeah right. You’re not some leggy blonde, you’re just you. You’d look stupid in something like that. 

Men always looked past you, through you. It’s why you didn’t bother. High school was a farce; shoved into lockers or chased out of school dances. And college, just an extension of the crushing social norms and ridiculous expectations.  

You kissed one guy in your sophomore year but he was worse off than you. You never saw him again after he came in pants just from having your tongue on his. Why would you want some dweeb like that? You’d rather settle for being alone than some freak. 

You sigh as you cross your arms and flop back on the couch. You think too much. This is supposed to be fun, so why does it make you feel so… alone? 

Reality splinters as your heart lurches. Shit. You hear a key in the lock and the sharp turn of the mechanism. Shit! You stand and panic as the door opens, too stunned to react as you trip over the leg of the chair as you try to hide too late. You hit your knees and look up at the figure in the entryway. 

“What the fuck?” the deep voice cuts through you. “Who the fuck are you?” 

Bucky comes into the room and stops short. He tilts his head as you stand, putting your palms out defensively, “look, I was just leav–” 

He’s barreling towards you and you stumble back frantically. He grabs the front of your hoodie and takes you off your feet as he shakes you, like a rat in the gutter. You grasp his thick wrists as you gape at him, speechless. 

“I know you,” he says as recognition wrinkles in his forehead, “I knew you were up to something.” 

“You’re not supposed to be here,” you say. 

“Me? I’m watering the plants,” he spits, “what the fuck are you doing here?” 

“Please, I swear, I wasn’t going to do anything–” 

“Shut up!” he snaps and shoves you into the leather chair, looming over you as he clenches the front of your sweater. 

“Let me go and I’ll never come back,” you beg and round your eyes and make your voice higher, just like you’ve seen other women do. You always looked younger than your age. “Please–” 

He scoffs and shakes his head, “I said, shut up.” 

His tone keeps any further plea muted. He glares at you, nostrils flaring as his thoughts swirl in his deep blue irises. He unfurls his fingers and draws his hands away rigidly as he stands straight. 

“Don’t fucking move,” he warns as he combs his fingers through his hair. He watches you for a moment before he looks around and grumbles under his breath, “don’t have the fucking time for this.” 

[shybluebirdninja]

Ownership

Summary: You agreed to one night, but Bucky has other plans, making it clear he��s going to keep you—and he wants you carrying his baby.

Pairings           : Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Note               : non-consensual behavior, forced pregnancy

The air in the room is heavy, thick with unspoken tension. Bucky stands in the doorway, his massive frame dominating the space, eyes dark and predatory. He’s watching you, that familiar smirk playing on his lips. It’s unsettling how calm he is, like he’s got all the time in the world. Like he knows exactly how this is going to play out.

“Why you standin’ over there like you got a choice, doll?” His voice is low, gravelly, and it hits you straight in the chest. “C’mere.”

You hesitate, trying to remember the rules you both set. One night. That’s it. But the look in his eyes says different. There’s no way you’re walking out of here without something much heavier hanging over you—without him making sure his mark on you is permanent.

“I said, come here,” Bucky’s tone darkens, a rough edge creeping in, and your body reacts before your brain does, your feet moving toward him. His metal arm reaches out, pulling you flush against his chest, and fuck, the heat coming off him makes your pulse race.

“I’m not letting you go, y’know that, right?” His breath is hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “This ain’t some casual thing. You’re mine. And I’m gonna make sure you know it.”

His hand slides down your back, rough fingertips brushing against the bare skin under your shirt, making you shiver. He smirks when he feels it, gripping your waist harder, like he owns every inch of you. In his mind, he does.

“Bucky,” you whisper, your voice trembling.

“Shh,” he growls, his lips brushing against your neck. “I’m gonna take my time with you. Make sure it sticks this time. You’re not walkin’ outta here without somethin’ of mine.”

You can feel the power in his body as he presses against you, the steel in his grip, and the raw desire pouring off him in waves. You try to push back, but his grip tightens, his metal hand circling around your throat—enough to hurt, enough to remind you who’s in charge.

“You agreed to one night,” he whispers, lips dragging over your skin, teasing. “But I’m not a man of half-measures, sweetheart. You’re not leaving here until I’ve put a baby in you. Until I know I’ve claimed you for good.”

Your heart pounds, his words sinking deep into your bones.

“You... you don’t have to—” you start, but he cuts you off with a dark chuckle.

“Don’t gotta do a damn thing. But I want to.” His lips curl into a smirk, and he lifts you off the ground like you weigh nothing, carrying you to the bed. The room spins for a second, and then you’re beneath him, pinned by his weight, his hands already working to pull your clothes off, rough and demanding.

His lips crash into yours, claiming, devouring, and you can’t help but moan into the kiss as his tongue pushes past your lips. His hands grip the waistband of your jeans, yanking them down without a care, shredding any barriers between you.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he growls, running his hands over your now-bare thighs, squeezing, as if memorizing the shape of you. “Gonna ruin you, doll. Gonna make sure you never forget who you belong to.”

You’re panting, barely able to think straight as his mouth trails down your body, his breath hot against your skin. His metal arm holds you in place, cold against the burning heat coursing through you, while his other hand grips your thighs, spreading them apart like it’s his goddamn right.

“You like this, don’t you?” he teases, voice dripping with that rough, dominant tone. “You like the way I fuckin’ own you.”

His fingers tease you for only a second before he thrusts them inside, rough and unrelenting, stretching you out in a way that makes you arch your back, a cry ripping from your throat.

“Bucky!”

“That’s right, baby,” he smirks, his fingers working faster, deeper, curling inside you just to hear you scream again. “You’re fuckin’ mine.”

He pulls his fingers out and replaces them with himself, pushing into you with a rough, demanding thrust that has you seeing stars. Every muscle in his body is taut, coiled with tension, and you can feel how fucking hungry he is for you. The pace is slow at first, teasing, but you know it’s only a matter of time before he loses control.

“You think I’m gonna let you go after this?” he growls, his hips snapping against yours, hard and rough. “Nah, baby. You’re stuck with me. Gonna fill you up until you’re pregnant. You’re gonna carry my kid, and I’m gonna make sure of it.”

His words send a fresh wave of heat crashing through you, and you can’t stop the moan that escapes your lips, the way your body responds to his every move. He’s relentless, his pace brutal, pounding into you like it’s the only thing that matters, and in this moment, it is.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groans, his voice raw with desire. “So tight. You’re gonna take every fuckin’ inch of me, and you’re gonna thank me when I’m done.”

You can barely breathe, barely think as he keeps thrusting into you, harder, deeper, making sure you feel every inch of him. He leans down, his lips ghosting over your ear.

“I’m gonna fill you up, baby. Gonna make you mine in every fuckin’ way. You’re gonna carry my kid, and you’re gonna love every second of it.”

You can feel yourself unraveling beneath him, your body tightening around him as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he groans, his thrusts becoming erratic, desperate. “Cum for me. Cum all over my cock. Let me feel you fall apart.”

You shatter beneath him, your body convulsing as pleasure crashes over you like a wave, and he doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down. He just keeps fucking you, riding you through your orgasm, determined to make this last.

When he finally lets go, he slams into you one last time, burying himself deep inside you, and you can feel the hot rush of his release as he fills you.

“Good girl,” he whispers, his voice rough and breathless. “Now you’re mine. And you’re not going anywhere.”

[writersblockedx]

Wedded Under War: Chapter Two

Pairing - Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, slight Bestfriend!Steve Rodgers x Reader Summary - When learning you're being pawned of to marry Bucky Barnes, you demand to join the latest meeting. Warnings - Mentions of violence, alcohol use Words - 2.4K

A/n - If anyone would like to be added to a taglist for this series, I'm happy to make one, just let me know :)

< Previous Chapter // Next Chapter > Masterlist

It hadn't taken you long for you to storm out of the office; what else had they expected from you? Your life had suddenly taken a 180. Before now, you were desperate to be a part of the real team, to fight alongside your two closest friends and brother. Instead of that, you got a marriage offer.

You wandered into Tony's living space for one thing only: his bar. One of which consisted of the most expensive aged whiskeys he could get his hands on. And while it may have only been lunch time, you found yourself severing an on the rocks rather than a sandwich. It went down much easier when you were faced with what your future could now hold.

You always liked coming to Tony's. It was spacious and modern. Despite it only made for him and Pepper, it must have had at least three other guest rooms, a party room with pool tables and a dart board. Expensive bottles of alcohol dotted in each room. The perfect place for his many extravagant parties.

"Should have known I'd find you here." A voice broke out. You spun around from the back of the bar, facing Steve as he wandered around the leather sofa to meet you. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way."

You shrugged, "Better than Barnes getting down on one knee." You were certain that would have ended in blood. Instead, you were forced to gaze upon the red mark which still littered Steve's cheek. "Sorry about slapping you."

He too shrugged before taking a seat at one of the barstools, "I deserved it. I should have told you what Tony was thinking." That you couldn't disagree with.

You reached for a clean glass, mixing together another whiskey for Steve. "You're my best friend. I trust you to tell me things my brother is too stupid to." You poured the drink in front of him, sliding it across the copper surface.

"Tony's not stupid," His blue pupils gazed up to your own. "He's protective."

To such, you scoffed. "Protective? Really? That's why he's pawning me off to Barnes like I'm some object."

"No, it's not like that-"

"Really?" You always admired the way Steve was able to keep the peace from within SHIELD. But, now it just seemed frustrating the way he wouldn't see your anger. "I've been begging for him to let me be involved. Instead of handing me a gun, he's handed me a ring and married me off without even asking. It feels like I'm stuck in some 1920s, sexist bullshit!" Quite frankly, you needed to get that out.

Steve practically sighed into his drink before taking a gulp. "If it's any consolation, I don't like the idea either." He offered. "But this is the way we have peace."

"Yeah, and I just have to give up my future." A price that no one else had to pay.

"Not necessarily." He hesitated with his next words, "It might open more opportunities for the job."

While that sounded enticing, you didn't believe it. "You think Barnes is gonna have me helping him out?" You may about to be his wife, but he wouldn't trust a Stark. No matter what legal name connected you.

"We can suggest it." Steve attempted to baragan. "We have a meeting later today at his manor downtown."

"Tony didn't mention that." You commented, taking another sip from your glass.

"Tony didn't want you there." Of course, he didn't. "I think you should be there."

You shook your head, "Tony doesn't want me at a meeting about how my own future." To them, this wasn't your future. It was the future of New York. It was about how they were finally going to bring peace to a city which had been at war with itself for years now. "I'll be there." You decided, chugging the rest of your drink and began to head for your own guest room.

"Y/n!" Steve yelled after you, not moving from the bar. "Don't make a scene."

You felt like if there were any time for scene, it was today.

--

Without another word to your brother or Steve, or even Natasha, you got ready for the meeting you hadn't been invited to. But was certainly one you were determined to pretend. You should have been used to it. No matter the severity of the situation, Tony never left the office door open for you to join during the most important meetings. It seemed your only way to get there was to force your foot in the door.

You exited the guest room, preparing for the argument you were sure to ignite simply by your presence. Instead, you seemed to walk right in on it. The distant sound of Steve and your brother battling against one another. "Tony, this is her future. She's right." You overheard Steve backing your corner.

You kept your figure hidden as your back pressed against the hallway wall which led out into the living area. "You saw her earlier. She's gonna waltz in there with no intention for peace. This entire solution is gonna be tarnished because she can't keep her head." Quite frankly, your definition of peace wasn't marrying Bucky Barnes.

"She deserves to be there." Steve attempted to reason.

"Not yet," You heard Tony reply, causing your eyes to roll. "Not until she's accepted this."

"You know that's never gonna happen."

You chose that as your cue to enter. The sound of your shoes hitting the wooden floors, prompting the men to gaze over at you, the words suddenly falling silent. "He's right." You finally spoke up to break their silence. "I'm not going to accept that the only reasonable solution to all of this was to pawn me off. But I want to be there."

Tony took a cautious step forward, "You can't-"

You cut him off, "No I can. You just just don't trust me to not make a scene." If you were honest, you wouldn't trust yourself either. "Look, I promise not to slap anyone." You gazed over at Steve with your words. "Even if they deserve it."

The two men glanced over at one another. A silent conversation relaying between them; one of which you still weren't a part of. "Wel,l I believe her." Came another voice from the doorway: Natasha. "We don't have time for a debate, Barnes is expecting us."

You smiled towards Natasha; at least she wanted you there. However, it still left the two men who had yet to speak. Tony finally let out a sigh and you knew you had won. He took a step forward, a finger pointed right at you. "Don't make a scene." He warned before leading the way out of his penthouse.

You were left smirking to yourself before Steve offered out his arm for you. "Happy now?" You linked your arm with his own, following Tony out with nothing but a smirk planted on your lips.

The four of you headed into the car, ready for the 30-minute drive to a place you had never been: The Barnes Manor. You'd heard about it from Natasha. Something big and fancy to fill Bucky's ego while still being close to the city - despite the fact he had several properties in the city. You watched as the metropolis skylines swiftly started to change into gated communities and suburban homes. It didn't take you long to spot Barnes' house.

At the end of the street, the biggest house there. A gate which soon opened, revealing the two henchmen stood outside the front door. A garage big enough for at least five cars with a vintage, black chevy parked out front. It was everything you expected it to be: luxury, modern, pristine.

You followed Steve out of the back seat of the car as your head gazed up at the three stories the house contained. You tried your best to act natural, to pretend this was normal to you and your rustic apartment back in the city. The truth was, you'd die for a house this big. To have the ability to have such a luxury.

Tony faced the henchmen first. He nodded and awaited the door to open. Instead, they began patting him down, searching for weapons. They pulled a gun from his inner blazer pocket, "Seriously?" Tony complained.

The henchman straighten his back, "No weapons today."

Natasha and Steve stared and looked before the woman responded. "Will Barnes and his men be following the same rules?"

Their reply was silent. You leaned over to Steve, "We're not really going in unarmed, are we?" You had to check.

Steve simply grasped his own gun and handed it over with a smile. When Natasha did the same, Steve took that as an opportunity to respond, "Just make them think we are." He answered.

So you pulled out your gun from the hem of your jeans and you too handed it over while leaving your dagger safely tucked under your sock. But the man didn't take it. Instead, he turned to look at Tony. "Who is she?"

You could have laughed; even Barnes' men hadn't expected you to be there. "I might be your boss's future wife." You answered ever so sternly before Tony had the chance.

At that, the man took the gun, gazing you up and down. He gave a nod to the other man who opened the door to the house. You barely had a chance to take in the marble floors and the floor-to-ceiling windows before Rumlow was facing you all. "This way," He started before his eyes found your own. "She's here."

You truly were getting tired of how surprised people were at your entrance. "She is." You replied.

"Not a problem is it?" Tony questioned.

Rumlow waited a moment as his gaze lingered. "Not today."

With that, the group of you followed behind Rumlow, passing the grand stairs towards the back of the house. You caught a glimpse of the outside where there was a pool situated, sunbeds and even a bar. This was a level of rich even you hadn't seen. The closest you came to it was Tony's penthouse.

When you entered the meeting room, you spotted Bucky waiting at the head chair, Sam Wilson beside him. Inside this room was different. A slick wooden table and matching chairs. Classic paintings dotted around that you wouldn't be too shocked to know were the authentic. "What took you so long?" Was the first thing you heard Barnes say as he stood from his chair.

He got his answer when his stare finally locked on to you. He had changed a little since you last saw him. His hair was longer, coming down to his neck. His face was now painted with a clean-shaved beard and a scar on his forehead that never fully healed. "Y/n," He stated as he moved closer, offering his hand for you to shake.

You stared between such an offer and Tony's expression. He was silently reminding you to be nice. So you took it, feeling his firm grip grasp your skin once again. "Barnes," You greeted.

When his touch left your own he returned to his seat, "Sit. Let's get to business."

Of course, Tony took the opposite seat to Bucky. Steve and Natasha at either side and you next to Steve. All while Rumlow slipped into the right side of Bucky.  "While the details of the wedding can be sorted out at a later date, we should begin to plan engagement dates, press releases etc-"

"Who said I agreed?" Your words cut through his like a knife. There was silence. Even from Bucky. He wasn't used to people cutting him off so ruthlessly. "I get that you all think it's the best idea, but no one's stopped to tell me what I'm gonna get out of this...partnership." You hated the word marriage. Especially when it was attached to the Barnes name.

Bucky leaned back in his chair, holding his fountain pen between his two fingers. "Look around you, little Stark. Properties, money, travel. What more do you want from this?" The nickname made you tense. It was a common one that had spread around the mobs. And God you hated it.

"Funnily enough, money isn't everything to me."

You felt Steve's knee hit yours at that. A warning for you to choose your next words wisely otherwise either Bucky or Tony might just flip; you weren't sure which was worse. "For once, this isn't about you. This isn't about us. It's about safety." Bucky snapped. "If money isn't enough for you, I should hope your life is. Because if we don't do this, you won't keep that either." He threatened and it should have scared you, but you had the Stark name. That made you untouchable at times.

His words should have stopped you from arguing, "Can't the two of you just sit here, put your egos aside and decide to have peace? Why do we have to have a wedding?"

You heard Sam laughed to himself at such. The room was quiet for a moment. All you could was watch Tony's eyes as they avoided your own, stuck facing the table. "You haven't told her, have you?" Barnes realised. "You're too protective of her, Stark." He commented.

"Told me what?" You pushed.

You felt Steve's hand fall onto your own, "Y/n-"

You snatched away from his touch, leaning your elbows against the wood of the table as you stared across at Bucky. "What?" Your tone was stern, demanding to know what your brother had hidden from you.

"We're not getting married for peace, we're getting married so we look united." He explained.

However, it did little to fill in the gaps. "What-?" You looked between Natasha and Tony who had yet to speak a word. "One of you tell me what's going on!"

Tony sighed before finally daring to meet your pupils. His next words put a shiver through your spine like nothing else ever had. "Tracksuit Mafia are back in town."

And that could only mean, "Kingpin?"

Steve nodded, "Nothing's been confirmed but we'd be stupid to assume he isn't right behind them."

The boss who slayed through cities like a sword. Taking down anything, anyone until he gained the power, leaving nothing but destruction and death. The same man who had taken the life of your parents like it was nothing. And he was on his way. Suddenly, you found that Bucky was right; this wasn't about you anymore. It was about the safety of everyone you had ever cared for. 

[ramp-it-up]

Best of All

Pairing: Pilot!Steve Rogers x Publicist! Reader

Word count: 3.3 K

Summary: You and Steve FINALLY make it to your suite. And the results are sweet.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY Minors, DNI. Former Enemies to Lovers, and there was only one bed, 20 yr angst, sexual frustration, A yacht, swimming,Steve sketching reader, dry humping, fingering, size kink, personal lubricant, woman on top/ in control, Captain/Sir kink, praise/degradation kink, dirty talk, sloppy oral (m/f receiving), raw p in v, breeding/lactation kink, creampie. Basically porn with plot. Not Beta’d. All errors are on me.

This is the next part in the Greatest series.

A/N: It has been just a little over exactly a year since I've written these two. Please forgive my ain't-shitness. And thank you for rocking with me. I love you all!

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

-----

You were relaxing on the bow of the yacht, staring out over an amazing view.

You’d had a delicious brunch with Aperol spritzes, and as the yacht floated on the beautiful Gulf of Genoa, the only sounds you heard were of the water, John Coltraine, and the scratching of Steve’s pencil against the paper of his sketch pad. 

He had been wonderful, and contemplative, company for you. 

Your time was spent journaling and looking at the water and the cliffs, rotating your lounger with the sun. You even dozed for a few minutes, waking up to find Steve looking at you piercingly as he sketched. 

Your sister was right.

Steve was very much into you.

You could get used to this you thought as you got up and walked over to Steve, who looked up at you and smiled.

“Can I see what you’re sketching?”

Steve blushed, and then moved so that you could sit down beside him.

“Sure.”

He put his pencils down and handed his leather bound sketch book to you. You gasped.

“Steve! These are…”

You flipped the pages, looking to him for approval. He nodded and smiled at you.

There were many images, on the boat, some very detailed from the day, some rough sketches, but they were all clearly you. You turned to one drawing of you naked, and it made you feel some kind of way.

You’d never posed that way for him.

“Drew that one from memory. Last night.”

“You make me look so…”

“Beautiful? Then that just means I’m drawing you accurately.”

“You really see me this way?”

You were gazing at the sketches with wonder.

“I can’t believe that you don’t. Y/N. You are one of the most beautiful, most desirable women I’ve ever seen. People talk about Aria, but she looks just like you.”

You turned and put the sketch book down on the table beside Steve’s lounger.

“Can I have a kiss?”

Steve’s eyes lit up.

“You can have anything you want.” 

“I want you…”

Steve groaned as you climbed up on his lap and grabbed his face. You traced his lips with your fingers before he closed the distance between you and captured yours with his own. You were breathless before he pulled back and rested his forehead on yours.

“That was… nice.”

Steve shifted, sending his crotch grinding into yours and relishing the way you shivered in his arms.

“You want me?”

Steve looked back up at you. Hopeful.

“Yes. And I want to try. A relationship? Dating once we get back to the states? It will be hard. I travel a lot with what I do, go from coast to coast, and all over the world with Aria.”

You were nervously speaking in questions.

“Hmmm. Wonder how I could get from coast to coast, and all over the world? Oh right, I have two airplanes and I’m a pilot.”

Steve smirked at you as you smacked him on the arm.

“I just don’t want you to feel as if you have to chase after me. Or wait for me to get back when I need to go. Long distance can be hard.”

Steve nodded, and then gave you a quick peck on your lips.

“I know. But I would follow you to the ends of the earth. And I’ve already waited for 20 years. What’s a little longer?”

“How can you be so damn perfect?”

You attacked him, kissing him again as he laughed and grabbed you, holding you close.

“Not perfect, maybe just perfect for you?”

“Maybe,” you smiled into his shirt as you traced a vein down his arm. 

“But I want a do over.”

“A do over of what?”

“Of our first date.”

“Tonight?”

“Yes, tonight. But first, I wonder if you will give me some? Please? Pretty please Steve?”

You reached down and grasped his hardness in your hand; Steve moaned.

Steve’s mouth was open as you begged for him.

“Oh Baby, you have no idea how much I want that.”

You whined as you moved your hips to feel more of him.

“Steve… need you…”

Your sultry whisper in his ear made him weak.

“Me too. I just … I want it to be special… to take our time…”

“I need you inside me, Captain.”

“Fuuuuuck.…I want that too, Doll. So bad… I dreamt of it last night.”

Steve moved so that his mouth was on your neck.

“You taste like coconuts right now. Why is that?”

“Hmmmm. Flavored body oil spray. It’s edible.”

“Well then, I need to taste more…later. “

You writhed against him hoping for some relief.

“So desperate. I love it when you get needy for me, Baby.”

Steve took in your face and your lips opened in desire. He grabbed the back of your neck, wrapping his hand around your face and inserted his thumb into your mouth. You sucked at it greedily which made him groan again.

“Is that what you want?”

You moaned around his digit and nodded, your heart about to beat out of your chest. Steve leaned down to whisper in your ear as he shoved his thumb further past your tongue and held your mouth open.

“I loved the way you took it in your mouth yesterday. Such a good, good throat. Such a good, sweet girl for me.”

His hand was now at the crotch of your bathing suit and your eyes rolled back into your head at his filthy words as he gagged you with his digit. His long fingers on his other hand pulled the suit to the side and slowly inserted two inside you.

“I can barely get in here, Sweetheart. You’re gonna struggle to take me …”

You grunted, both at what he was doing to you and at what he was saying.

“Yes… you’ll have to be patient just a little while longer. Tonight…”

His wet thumb was caressing your nipples over your bathing suit now. You were frustrated.

“You’re all talk.”

“And you’ll do whatever I say. Later.”

Steve’s words and his steely eyed stare were speaking straight to your pussy. You clenched down on his fingers and he moaned.

“So fucking right. Patience, Doll. Just a little while longer. Meanwhile, you and I need to cool down.” 

Steve abandoned you to take off his shirt, laughing at your lust before he reached down to gather you in his arms again while approaching the passerelle.

“Can you get your hair wet?”

“Yes, I planned on swimming, but are you really about to throw me in the water right now?”

“No. “

Steve shook his head as he stopped on the edge.

“Good.” 

You smiled as you took in the view.

“I figure we’d take the plunge together.”

And then he backed up and ran toward the edge, you squealing in his arms, the warm mediterranean water separating you when you hit the surface. Soon you felt his arms slip back around you as you found each other again and kissed in the warm Italian sun. 

You wanted this moment to last forever.

—-

You made it through the 6 hour voyage and back to the hotel to change for dinner. The meal was nice, with great wine and even better conversation. 

After the meal, Steve asked a question as you walked to the elevators.

“Does that invitation to your suite still stand?”

You pressed your back into the elevator wall as Steve pressed the button for your floor before you even answered his question.

This cocky bastard. It was so hot.

“Sure, are we gonna have a pillow fight?” You raised your arms to his board shoulders as he leaned down to your ear.

“Did you say pillow bite?”

You cocked your head at him, smirking.

“So it’s like that?”

“Very much so.”

You kissed him as the doors opened onto your floor. Steve kept his hands on you as you opened your door and immediately had you up against the first available surface once the door closed hands and mouth everywhere he could reach.

After you two almost broke what looked to be a very expensive vase, Steve stepped back from you, lips swollen from your kisses and chest heaving.

“D’you want me as much as I want you?”

You realized now that the look on Steve’s face that you’d once interpreted to be irritation with you or annoyance, was in fact concentration. You pondered the meaning of being the center of his attention as you moved toward him.

“Do you not remember the way I took your cock down my throat the other day?”

You pressed your body against his and Steve swore, growling in your ear. 

“Oh yes. That was truly.” He kissed your neck.

“Truly.”

This time the kiss was on the plane of your chin.

“Truly amazing.”

He kissed your lips softly when you decided you were tired of playing around. You grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the bedroom.

—-

Soon, you were both naked in the bedroom, a bottle of Prosecco rescued from the honor bar and opened on the dresser. Your eyes were drawn to Steve Rogers, who was as beautiful as one of the statues in the Galleria Borghese. 

Steve was grasping his cock at the base as his eyes swept over your body. He was remembering the taste of you.

“You are so beautiful.”  

He squeezed himself harder and tried to keep from moving his hand up and down his thick shaft as you stared and licked your lips.

“Come over here, Stevie. Please.”

You lay on the bed on your stomach, showcasing your ass and looking at him invitingly. Stave moved closer, but stopped.

“What if I told you that I wasn’t going to fuck you tonight?”

You began to pout.

“Fix that face.”

That command made you whimper at the power in his voice.

“You are going to fuck me, Doll.”

“What?”

Steve reached for your hand as he switched places with you. Then he lay there and resumed stroking himself. You licked your lips at the sight and retrieved the bottle of Prosecco, suddenly very thirsty.

You contemplated the power he was giving you, and decided you liked this rush of control. 

“I like the idea of that, Steve. I’ll get to express exactly how much I want you.”

You took a swig and leaned down to kiss him, giving him a taste from your lips. He licked your mouth as you thumbed his nipples, causing him to shiver from your cold touch. You couldn’t resist tasting his cherry red lips again and again as you lightly squeezed his throat, then ran your hand down his sternum and his abs to the tip of his wet cock. 

You grazed the length of him down to his balls, then looked into his eyes and kissed his lips as you took control of him.

“Your lips are perfect,” you whispered as you caressed him.

“No. yours,” replied Steve as he sought your mouth again. 

“You like my mouth?”

As you leaned to teasingly kiss the thick cap of his cock, then took him fully down your throat 

“Oh.. Shit…”

Steve massaged your scalp as you bobbed on him

“You are so fucking hot, Doll…”

You looked up with a smile and moved to lick his nipple, then kiss him again as you stroked him. Steve was mesmerized. Your hands, your lips, your tongue, he couldn’t concentrate on any one part of you that was ruining him. 

It was sensation overload, and he needed to focus to not shoot off.

You were drunk on power. You spit on his cock, deep-throated him once, twice more, and then pulled away, causing Steve to groan as you withdrew contact, your sloppy blow job scrambling his brain.  His head was on a swivel as he watched you get up to go to the dresser. 

“May I?”

Steve nodded, eager for what was to come. You had a small spray bottle in your hand, and when the liquid made contact with his body, he jumped from the sensation. You rubbed the oil on his cock and up his body to his nipples, basking in the rapt attention he paid you as you sprayed yourself between your breasts. Steve’s cock got impossibly harder in your hand at the sight. 

“I think I’m gonna like this.

You loved to hear his sexy deep voice break.

“You like me?”

“Yeah. I…”

Steve trailed off as your hands roamed his body.

“I like you too, Stevie,” you kissed him again. ”

Steve actually whimpered as you swung your leg over his hips and sat down on his cock, rubbing your pussy along his shaft as it lay against his stomach. He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw to keep from manhandling you.

“I wanna try that sweet cunt.”

“Hmmm. Is it sweet? Wanna taste it again?”

You leaned back and circled your clit with two fingers, then inserted them into his pretty mouth. Steve’s adam's apple bobbed as he sucked your fingers and swallowed your taste. You pulled away to suck his cock again until he was moaning, at which point you kissed and licked your way up his body, settling your thighs at his shoulders. 

He gripped your ass as he turned hushed head so that his lips could kiss your thigh. His fingers reached around your leg to play in your crease as he gave your clit kitten licks and kisses. You tried to move back down, but he grasped your thighs hard enough to leave bruises that would give you daydreams the next day. He started sucking your clit so intently that you began seeing stars.

“Wanna fuck you now, Stevie. Wanna cum on your cock”

You were on the edge as Steve pulled off of your clit with an obscene slurp.

“I’m yours, Y/N.”

You reached back and grabbed his throbbing cock as you scooted your pelvis down, one hand on his neck and one hand positioning him to enter you. His shaft was large, but the head was even wider, and the stretch as you worked yourself open on him made you moan loudly. Steve grabbed your chin to make you look at him while you slid down his length, stretching yourself out so incredibly well.

“My cock looks so big against your tiny pussy.”

His eyes were riveted.

“It is big, Captain. You’re so huge.”

You grabbed the headboard while you adjusted to his size. Steve’s hands came up around your waist and held you steady as you trembled around him.

Those blue eyes looked up at you with adoration.

“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Are you okay, Doll?”

“It feels amazing,” you stared down into his eyes and smiled, your slick leaking down his thick shaft to collect and drip off his balls.

“Yes. Yes it does. Holy mother god.”

 He looked down to where you were connected.

“You’re wrapped around me so tight and so good, Doll.”

Steve looked up at you and licked his lips, pupils blown wide and struck dumb by lust. 

You leaned down and kissed him when you bottomed out on him.

You stared at each other as you both finally got what you wanted. You took his head in your hands and kissed him as you pounded together. 

Then you started moving. 

Steve played with your nipples and you arched backwards as he planted his feet and pistoned up into you faster.

“Oh! Steve. Feel so full. So good.”

Steve wrapped his arms around your waist and held you in place as his hips moved at the devil's pace. The sound of his dick breaching your wet pussy and skin slapping on skin was everything. His thumb went to your clit and traced figure eights as you shuddered in his grip. 

“F-f-f- u-u-u-ck! I’m- I’m coming!”

“Give it to me!”

He stroked you through your orgasm and then sat up, manipulating you so that you were sitting back on your arms in his lap as he moved you up and down his cock like a sex toy.

“Shit, you feel so good!”

Steve looked down at you and then up at the ceiling, eyes rolling

“Jesus, you’re so fucking hot.”

You looked down and the image of Steve’s large member destroying your hole was enough to make you cum around his cock again. Steve took control, taking your hips in his large hands and moving you at his will.

“Oh my god.” 

He ground you against the base of his cock and started grinding circles for his greedy eyes and your pleasure. You were addicted.

“Such a good little slut for my cock. Need you to give me one more. That’s it. Good girl.”

He grabbed you by the hair and kissed you as you shuddered through your orgasm and suddenly, you were on your back as Steve flipped you over, getting on his knees and folding you in half to fuck you even better. 

Steve stopped as he tried to hold back.

“You got me so close Doll… I gotta calm down.”

“I just want you to stuff me full of your cum, Captain.”

“Ooohhhhhh. Fuck.”

Steve sped up and then stopped, trying to calm down. But he couldn’t help what he said next that turned out to be his doom.

“Are- are you trying to have my baby, Y/N.”

You arched against him, shuddering at the thought.

“Nnnnnnoooooo. Fuck. Maybe.”

“You wanna be all round and full of my child, tits so full of milk…so I can suck… holy fuck!”

The image was making Steve start to shoot off.

“Fill me up, Steve–I”

“Ahhh!”

And then you keened as you felt his hot cum start to spurt against your walls. You came around his rapidly pulsing cock as he finished inside you.

You two were a hot, sweaty heap as you came down together, Steve kissing your forehead and praising you.

“You did so good for me.”

He gathered you in his arms.

“I love you.”

Steve gazed at you.

“Think I’ve been in love with you for 20 years, Y/N.”

You smiled at him.

“I love you too.” 

You said it, barely above a whisper. But you meant it. Then you said it again.

“I love you, Steve Rogers.”

You attacked him, kissing him again as he laughed and grabbed you, holding you close. 

“All of the bad things that we’ve gone through to get to this moment is for the best. I can see that now.”

Steve looked to you just like that little boy you met 20 years ago. Then you saw the beautiful man who loved you.

“You’re right. And this, right now. It’s the best of all.”

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Emerald Hallow Chapter 1

Summary: Steve Rogers wants to move on.  He wants to forget Peggy, and dive into the 21st century.  But this man of the past doesn’t know how to navigate being an Alpha in a modern world of skittish Omegas.  He prides himself on his self control, never wanting to harm or scare them, until something just smells too damn good…and he’s not the only one who notices.  

**plus size reader 

Warnings: abo!dynamics, smutty smut smut, name calling, eventual threesome, voyeurism, rough sex

Next chapter

Steve prided himself on his self control. He was a Beta before the super soldier serum, and when his body went through the transformation so did his classification. Not only did he have to learn how to operate his new body but as a new Alpha he had to learn how to handle the intense emotions and instincts that came with it. He’d been able to work through most of it without endangering any Omegas along the way. Anytime a moment of weakness chipped at his psyche the words of Dr. Erskine would rattle his brain: “…you must promise me that you will stay who you are. Not a perfect soldier. But a good man.” Good men, good Alphas, did not attack or take what they wanted from others. Steve was well aware of the plight of Omegas in the world. If there was one thing that had stayed consistent throughout his long life it was that Omegas were still considered “less” by many, something to be bred and fulfill Alphas’ needs. He didn’t feel this way, but knew many others did.

After returning the Infinity stones he had gone to see Peggy in the past for closure, but did not stay. As much as he wanted to, he just couldn’t. He loved her, but she was also an Alpha, and same classification couples never worked out.  Bucky needed him, and a promise of “’til the end of the line” was a promise. He had helped transition Sam into the Captain America role and quickly retired, only advising on missions rather than taking the lead. He tried to reintegrate back into regular civilian life, finding his next adventure. He wanted to move on from Peggy and find an Omega to settle down and have a family with.

So far he had no luck. He had started going by his middle name, Grant, and had grown out his beard and hair again so he wasn’t as recognizable as “Captain America” anymore. The dates he’d gone on had been unsuccessful. Omegas were hard to come by nowadays, and to find one willing to even go on a date was even harder. He felt like he was being a gentleman, not expecting anything from them other than to get to know them and see if it was worth pursuing, but he could feel the anxiety and tension dripping from their scents every time. He couldn’t blame them, but it also made him feel like the magic or allure of a great romance that he was looking for to replace his feelings for Peggy was a pipe dream.

One late Autumn night as he left Bucky’s apartment and headed home he smelled something that made him skid to a stop. Amongst the carved pumpkins and crisp Autumn air was something tantalizing, mouth-watering, and made the hair on the back of his neck raise in anticipation. His body moved towards the smell without him even realizing, his nose held high as he followed the scent down a block and into an old fashioned jazz club. It reminded him of the old dance halls of the 1940s, a live band playing on a stage with tables skirting the walls, making a small circle in the middle for couples to dance. There were vintage Halloween decorations lining the walls and the bar.  He made a mental note to tell Bucky about this place as the scent grew stronger and he blindly walked toward the stage.

“My lovelies!” A drag queen’s deep voice boomed into the microphone. She was dressed in an extravagant vampire costume, and as Steve looked around he noticed almost everyone was dressed in some type of Halloween themed costume or vintage clothes.  “Thank you for coming to tonight’s Autumn Jazz Fest!  Last but certainly not least, is our very own…Emerald Hallow!” The drag queen gave a great flourish with her arm and the curtain behind her opened to reveal the singer. Steve’s heart stuttered as the Alpha in him awoke. She was the scent he followed.  An unmated Omega.  The singer was short and plus size, her voluptuous curves slightly jiggling as she sauntered up to the vintage looking microphone.  She wore a long, flowy, shimmering velvet black dress with sheer lace sleeves that opened wide at her wrists with tassels swaying as she swung her arms, tattoos peeking out from the lace.  The neckline plunged down deep between her large breasts, giving the audience quite the view.  Her long nails were pointy and painted black, gently twisting the tassels as she adjusted the microphone to her height.  She had dyed emerald green hair that was long and finger-waved with two large victory rolls atop.  She wore gold earrings that had deep red hearts with what looked like blood dripping from them, black lipstick and sharp cat-eye eyeliner.  The black lipstick made her teeth look striking as she smiled seductively when the audience clapped for her.  Steve swore under his breath.  She was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. 

“Happy almost-Halloween, my pretties!” she greeted them, some people in the audience whooping and hollering for her.  Steve could feel a growl rumble in his chest at the attention she was getting from others, and mentally chastised himself for losing his composure.  “Would you like to hear some spooky tunes?”  Some more clapping and whooping made her smile wider.  “Okay, okay, I’ll give it to you…so needy,” she teased the audience, winking at someone off to the side.  Steve moved closer to the stage, just off to the side as the band behind her started playing.  She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, opening them again as her body started to move to the beat.  “They say that I’m a witch, and that I weave a spell.  Well…”

Emerald danced with her hips and shoulders like singers of old would.  Her scent became heavier to Steve as she did something she obviously loved, and it made his Alpha instincts scream at him to claim her.  He sat himself in a chair at one of the nearest tables, needing to hide his growing erection.

She held out the last note, her voice ringing out as the band hit a big chord at the end and she raised her arms.  The audience cheered loudly, the couples who had been dancing stopped to join in on the applause.  Emerald bowed and acknowledged the band behind her.  Steve clapped and watched her closely.   He was clocking all the Alphas in the audience, making note of the ones who were unmated and watching her like he was.  It made him feel like a creep, but something deep within him was not willing to just walk out and go home.  He was stuck to the spot, and would wait all night if he had to just to get a moment with her.  

She sang a few more songs then suddenly pulled out a chair from behind the piano.  “I’ve got one more for you tonight,” she said.  The audience whined loudly.  “Aaaww, are you gonna miss me?” she teased, sticking her lip out sadly.  She smirked as she set the chair in the middle of the stage and took the microphone out of the stand to freely walk around.  “I’m gonna need a big, strong Alpha volunteer,” she said in a low, seductive voice.  As her eyes swept the crowd multiple loud voices yelled out, hands raising and Alphas standing up from their chairs.  Steve stayed seated, desperately wanting her to choose him but not wanting to come off that way.  He decided to let his instincts take over for just a moment and let off a pheromone scent of himself towards her.  As her eyes continued to look out at the crowd they subtly widened and her back stiffened as her eyes instantly went to him.  Her eyes flashed as she gazed at him, and her smirk deepened.  Steve felt like the air between them was buzzing as he held her gaze, not daring to look away.

“You,” she pointed at him and then curled her finger, gesturing to him to come up.  Steve slowly got up and followed the stairs up to the stage.  There was a chorus of disappointed noises mixed with clapping from the audience as he approached her.  “Take a seat, handsome,” she said, patting the top of the chair.  Steve sat on the chair and looked up at her, memorizing every feature of her face.  “What’s your name?” she asked, standing closer to him and holding the microphone to his face.

“S–Grant,” Steve said, clearing his throat after nearly slipping up on his name.

Emerald eyed him but her smile never faltered.  “Grant.  Everybody say ‘Hello Grant!’”  She held the microphone out to the audience who chanted back at her in greeting him.  “And what do you do, Grant?”

“Consulting,” Steve said automatically, a polite smile on his face as he warred with himself not to reach out and touch her.

“How vague…” Emerald said cheekily, raising her eyebrows and making the crowd laugh.  “It’s alright, keep your secrets, handsome,” she said as she walked behind him then ran her hand over his shoulder and down his chest, her chin resting on his opposite shoulder, making them cheek to cheek.  “I like a man who is mysterious…” 

Steve let out a shuddering breath as the jittery energy he felt from her touching him flowed through his veins.  His shoulders and chest felt like they were doused with ice water where she touched him, and his cheek warmed as he blushed with her so close.  The Alpha howled at him to take her, right there in front of everyone, making his hands shake as he quickly folded them together and covered his crotch with his entwined fists.

“Can I sing this last song to you, Grant?” she said, her lips slightly grazing his ear, her hot breath making him shiver.  Steve didn’t trust his voice so he slightly looked towards her and nodded.  “Thank you,” she said, then moved away and turned to the band.  “Shall we, lovies?”

“We shall!” the band called back to her, then counted themselves in.  The melody started into a song Steve actually recognized from some music Sam had recommended to him.

Emerald walked towards the edge of the stage where Steve had walked up and then turned towards him sharply.  “Well it’s a marvelous night for a moondance with the stars up above in your eyes,” she sang, her shoulders keeping the beat.  “A fantabulous night to make romance ‘neath the cover of October skies,” she continued, twirling around and turning towards the bass player behind her, giving her a wink before facing Steve again.  “And all the leaves on the trees are falling to the sound of the breezes that blow.  You know I'm tryin' to please to the calling of your heartstrings that play soft and low.”  She stepped slowly towards him, her eyes never leaving his face.  “And the night’s magic seems to whisper and hush.  You know the soft moonlight seems to shine in your blush!”  The band suddenly picked up, the sound swelling around Steve.  Emerald smiled widely.  “Can I just have one more moondance with you, my love?”  She quickly closed the distance between them and leaned down, her hand reaching out and cupping his jaw, making him move toward her.  Steve’s eyes widened.  “Can I just make some more romance with a-you, my love?”  She leaned forward as she held his face and nuzzled her nose against his nose.  As the chorus ended she released him and turned, jutting her hips towards him as they rocked to the beat.

“Well I wanna make love to you tonight, I can’t wait til the morning has come,” she sang, looking over her shoulder at him.  He shifted in the seat, his pants feeling even more tight.  “And I know now the timing is just right and straight into my arms you will run,” she walked behind him again, her hand doing as it had done before but this time running down his arm and squeezing his bicep.  “And when you come my heart will be waiting to make sure that you’re never alone.”  She walked around him again until she faced him, then sank down into his lap.  “There and then all my dreams will come true dear, there and then I will make you my own.”  Steve’s hands gripped her hip and her knee to keep her planted on his lap, his hands still shaking at the close proximity and at getting to finally touch her even just a little.  She wrapped her free arm around his shoulder to keep herself upright.

“And every time I touch you, you just tremble inside,” her nails gently scraped against the scent gland on his neck, making him gasp and his mouth drop open as he watched her.  “And I know how much you want me that,” she winked at him, bringing her face slightly closer to his, “you can’t hide.”

Steve’s eyebrows knitted together.  He was sure his face was showing nothing but pure desire right now, and couldn’t find it in himself to care.  His grip on her tightened and he swallowed thickly.

“Can I just have one more moondance with you, my love?”  Her fingers moved up and ran through his hair, scratching his scalp, causing his eyelids to flutter shut at the massage.  “Can I just make some more romance with a-you…” she held the note out as she pulled him closer, this time making them nose to nose.  The audience was whooping and hollering again, a chant of “Kiss him!” coming through the crowd as the music paused to build tension.  She stared Steve down, her eyes flickering to his lips once then back up to his eyes.  Steve was breathing heavily, waiting to see what she would do.  After a long beat she dipped her head and kissed the side of his mouth, just out of reach of his lips.  The audience was a mix of cheers and disappointed groans as she pulled away and licked her lips as she looked at him again before lifting the microphone back up to her mouth.  “My love,” she sang the last line softly, and as the band finished with a jazzy ending she rested her forehead against his forehead as she caught her breath.  Steve didn’t want it to end, holding her firmly against him as the music ended and the audience applause nearly deafened him.  He didn’t want this bubble to burst, this magical moment to end, and yet his hands slipped away when she shifted to stand from his lap.  

Emerald adjusted her dress and stood then took his hand and helped lift him from the chair, holding his hand up in hers high and then gesturing with their joined hands to bow.  Steve bowed with her and plastered a polite smile on his face as he watched her smile widen at the crowd.  “Whoo, is it hot in here or is it just me?” She joked, making everyone laugh again as they continued to clap.  “Everybody give it up for our lucky man, Grant!”  Another round of applause erupted as Steve nodded, a shy smile pulling at his mouth.  She pulled his hand towards her and opened her arms for a hug.  Steve happily ducked down to her embrace, his arms resting on her lower back as her free hand gripped his shoulder.  Her face slightly twisted and her lips were by his ear again.  “Meet me at the back door, ten minutes,” she whispered.  Steve nodded minutely before pulling away.  She released him and clapped for him as well as he waved a hand and stepped down from the stage.

As the drag queen who hosted came back out and closed the show Steve grabbed a shot at the bar, paid, then left through the front door.  He quickly rounded the building, down the alley, until he reached the back of the building.  He found the back door and leaned up against the wall next to it to wait.  He didn’t know what would happen next, but if she wanted to see him afterwards then the magical moment must have meant something to her, too.  Eight minutes went by until the door swung open and his green haired beauty emerged.

Her eyes quickly found him and she smirked.  “Grant,” she greeted him, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Emerald,” Steve greeted her back, pushing himself off the wall.  “Though I’m guessing that’s not your name.”

“You guessed right,” she said.  “Though it seems we’re both using different names, Steve Rogers.”

Steve’s eyes widened and his smile fell.  He quickly cleared his throat and looked down.  “That obvious, huh?”

“Probably not to the average person,” she said as she took a step toward him.  “But most people haven’t had a grandparent that was a huge fan of Captain America like I did, who took me to the Smithsonian any chance he got to educate me about the great Steve Rogers and the Howling Commandos.  I’d recognize those eyes anywhere,” she quirked an eyebrow at him.  “Though I have to say, I like the longer hair and beard look.  Makes you much more ruggedly handsome.”

Steve’s smile returned and he blushed at her compliment.  “Ruggedly handsome?”

“Oh yes,” she smiled widely at him.  She took another step toward him, making her look up at him.  She analyzed his face for a moment before she sighed heavily.  “Dirty trick you played in there, using your scent on me,” she said quietly, her smile falling.

Steve’s eyebrows raised in surprise.  “Oh, um…I’m sorry,” he said quickly, embarrassed that although it worked in getting him noticed and chosen, she was obviously not happy with him about it.  

“Hm,” she hummed, looking him over.  “I was going to choose you regardless, you know?” she said, reaching a hand out and running her fingers over the lining of his coat.  “I scented you from the moment you walked in,” she said, her fingers sliding up towards his collar.  “A Manhattan cocktail, with an undertone of sandalwood and amber,” she met his gaze again.  “And a hint of petrichor.”

“Petrichor?” Steve asked, his eyes never leaving her fingers that gripped his collar lightly.

“The smell after a long awaited rain,” she whispered.  She pulled him down by his collar and guided his face towards her neck.  Steve’s arms wrapped around her like he was hugging her, his grip pulling her flush against him as he nuzzled his nose against her scent gland inhaling deeply.  He felt like he was skipping a lot of steps in the process.  Scenting another person was extremely personal, and not something done by strangers like this.  “You obviously came here for this,” she said as he rubbed the tip of his nose against her neck.

Steve groaned, getting drunk off the scent that nearly drove him crazy enough to lose control.  She gave it up so easily to him.  “Fuck…” he whispered as his tongue licked along the gland, nipping lightly at her skin.  Her fingers tightened around his coat, a soft whimper falling from her lips.  “I couldn’t tell what it was, but…” he sniffed again, his eyes rolling.  “Bergamot, rose, and sandalwood.  Like the perfumes I used to smell back in the day,” he said as his lips traveled to her jaw and then kissed her cheek softly.  “With a hint of ocean air,” he smirked at her as he pulled away to look at her.  Her eyes were hooded as she looked back up at him, her mouth open as she breathed heavily.  “Your name?” he asked.

She huffed a silent laugh as she smiled.  “Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Y/N,” Steve repeated it, liking the way it felt on his tongue.  

Her smile tightened.  “We should slow down.”

“We should,” Steve agreed, but didn’t let go of her.

She pulled away a little, which almost felt like a punch to his gut.  Y/N looked up at him and mischievously grinned.  “How about you take me out and show me some of that old school charm?  And we’ll see where that leads us.”

Steve chuckled at that, his smile widening.  “You took the words right out of my mouth.  Though it sounds much more smooth coming from you.”

“I can be smooth when I wanna be,” she giggled.  She gave him another look over then stepped back, reaching for and holding one of his hands while fishing out her phone from her coat pocket.  She unlocked the phone and handed it to him.  Steve quickly pulled his phone out and gave it to her as well and they exchanged numbers.  

“I’ll call you,” Steve said as he made sure to save her contact information.

“You better,” Y/N smirked.  She pulled him down by his collar again and kissed the side of his mouth, making him growl impatiently.  It only made her laugh as she stepped out of his reach.  “See you around, Steve,” she said his name in her seductive voice that she used on stage.  

Steve sighed heavily and composed himself.  “See you soon, Y/N.” She walked to the back door and knocked in a pattern, then the bass player walked out, giving her and Steve a once over and scoffing before walking towards one of the cars parked along the back alley.  Y/N waved to Steve then followed the band member, who drove off with her.  Steve watched until she was out of sight then laughed to himself.  This is going to be interesting.

This is the "dirtiest" fic I've written so far. I'm not usually a #stucky fan, but I thought I'd give a crack at it. Hope y'all like it!