#tag your answer and reblog you big pussy queens!

[justreadingfics]

It’s a Deal -Ch. 13

Chapter Summary: Old memories come back to you. 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 3k

Warnings: angsty internal thoughts, no Bucky this chapter.  

A/N: Here it is. I’m sorry I ended up not reblogging all the comments on last chapter before I post this one, but I’ve read and cherish them all, please don’t doubt that. Thank you, incredible Suz, @bucky-the-thigh-slayer you’re a Queen around here. The link to my masterlist, where you can find the other chapters, is on my description. Feedback is highly appreciated.

Tag list for this story is closed.  

You bet that if you told anyone about the scene playing out in your apartment right now, people would scoff their asses off at your face: Saturday afternoon, your living room, the Leader of the Avengers Tech Team, the Director of SHIELD – probably the most powerful organization in the world- and one of the scariest, if not the scariest spy to ever walk on earth. All three of you sitting on your carpet, barefeet, wearing tops and tiny shorts due the heat brought by the bright sun slipping through your windows. A big bowl of popcorn in the center and innumerous chocolate bars everywhere. 

Those afternoons with the three of you are a rare event. First, you had your relationship with Eddie to blame, but now it’s mainly due to your work schedules that almost never are in sync, but whenever there’s an opportunity, there you are.

Your phone's message alerts ringing together bursts into the conversation and the three of you grab your devices simultaneously. You were dreading to see what it was, sure it was something from work, but a huge smile widens in your lips at what you see on your screen.

“Jesus…” Nat says, while, laughing, you three turn the screens to one another, confirming you have received the same message. “Bucky’s a lost cause with that cat. That’s the millionth picture I received of her this week. And she’s always doing something extremely exciting like… sleeping.” She rolls her eyes.

“But we have to admit that little asshole is kinda cute,” Sharon comments looking back at her screen and the picture of the, indeed, sleeping cat.

“She is, right?” You agree, with a huge smile on your face. You and Alpine may have had a somewhat rough start, but you can’t help but admit she’s an adorable little jerk who’s just very protective of her human.

“By the way,” Natasha smirks at you, putting her phone back on her pocket, “I had no idea that was what he meant when he said he would romance the shit out of you.”

“It suits perfectly, though,” Sharon comments, shaking her head and laughing with her.

“It does. Shame on me, I should’ve known better.” Nat agrees.  

“He said that?” You ask with peaked interest you try to disguise in the quietness of your tone while you bite the corner of your lips.

The curiosity in the information doesn’t go unnoticed by them, who just snicker at each other. You decide to ignore that.

“The dude is smitten, Y/N, wake the fuck up.” Natasha not so gently throws a popcorn right on your face.

“Hey,” you whine.

“And so is she, giving that little dreamy look on her face. Wake the fuck up indeed.” Sharon sides with Nat with a huff.

“I’ve created two monsters…” Nat comments like you weren’t even in the room, referring to the fact she is the one who brought you two together.

“It’s not like that…” You barge in their little interaction, catching their attention, before folding your legs up and holding your knees, “I mean… yeah, of course… I can’t help having feelings for Bucky, I mean… he’s…” you pause, searching for the right words to describe him, “He’s Bucky.” You shrug… a small smile curling your lips, “He’s Bucky…” you repeat with a sigh while your gaze wanders away…

It’s just you don’t really need anything else to justify why it’s so inevitable to grow feelings for him and your friends catch on to what you mean, because when you look back at them, they both have stupid and dreamily little looks at you… ones that don’t fit to a couple of spies. 

You clear your throat, letting your initial line of thoughts come back to you, “But it’s not that simple… There’s…’ you falter.

“There’s what?” Nat insists, in a kind way.

But “Who” was the more proper pronoun.

“Eddie…” You whisper.

“Argh…” Sharon groans, tilting her face to her side before, looking back at you, “What about Eddie?”

It was just yesterday that you had your little “encounter” with Bucky. You know it was no coincidence he was there, the little shit must’ve tracked you down… but you couldn’t make yourself care about that when it was so amazing… incredible… Not only the fact that he went down on you in such a shameless way and gave you a mind-blowing orgasm, like he always does. It was also the way he spoke to you…his attitude… not really imposing himself… encouraging you to have fun with your friends… no sign of jealousy. It made you feel special and free and… loved. Really loved for who you are and not for who you make yourself to be to please and that is a tremendously powerful feeling.

Still… you have mixed feelings about it all and Eddie is the reason. Being there with him felt familiar and comfortable, but, in some way different… better than before. It makes you think that he really is engaged into finding not just a way back to you, but also a way to make your relationship work and it certainly weighs over your heart.

You tell your friends all of that.

“Did Eddie notice anything?” Nat asks, reaching over for some popcorn.

“I don’t know,” you answer, “He wasn’t at the table when I returned, but he came back shortly, my friends were still talking about it, but we changed to subject once we saw him. The girls didn’t comment anything again, and he acted normal… I guess he didn’t.” You shrug, starting to bite on your nails.

There’s an annoying little feeling rising in you since the night before and, thinking over it, you recognize it as guilt. Guilt for doing that with Bucky while Eddie was there in Club, guilt for not being bothered by Bucky’s presence, while, at least initially, you were bothered by Eddie’s, guilty for enjoying that Bucky was the one who actively made a move when Eddie didn’t, for missing him more than you missed Eddie, for feeling more positively about his change of mind than Eddie’s, for wanting Bucky more…

Guilt because you know you’re falling for him. For Bucky. And there’s little you can do to stop it.

“What is it?” Sharon asks, tightening her lips and nodding at where you’re chewing your nails.

You promptly stop, bringing your hands to around your knees again, “I guess I wasn’t expecting either of them there.” You decide not to share your most recent thoughts with them.

“You know why both of them were there. It was definitely not a coincidence.” Nat reminds you.

“I know… but it's ok, they were polite...” You brush it off but add, quickly, fighting back a smile at the memories that flashes in your mind, “In their own way.”

“Polite? Even when Bucky had his face up your pussy?” Sharon teases, not letting that one go, and making you give in and let out a laugh while you hide your face with your hands for a moment.

“I was pretty excited to find out he was there, actually,” you admit and their faces light up, which you assume is prompted by your own expression. “It was a thrilling sensation… I can’t quite explain.”

“He really is in love with you…Bucky…” Nat tightens her lips and tilts her head.

You sigh, looking back at her, “I know…” You admit.

They both keep waiting for you to say something else but you don’t know what you could say. No… as a matter of fact, you do. You’re just not ready to put your thoughts out in the world. At first, you had your doubts if what Bucky was feeling was really that deep… but now… something has changed. You believe him. You really do. And you know you’re falling for him, too, but…

Eddie was the one you wanted for so long… you’ve made so many plans with him… Long term plans. You used to see yourself growing old with him and that’s an image that still somehow haunts your feelings. And now… the fact that guilt surrounds the feelings arising for Bucky inside you makes you feel like a cheater. You didn’t feel that when it was just sex, but now you do. And you’re damn scared.

What if you surrender to your feelings now and go to Bucky and then comes a day you’ll realize that you were wrong and Eddie will still be the one you really want? You wanted him for so long… can that really have changed? How can one let go of that feeling, that certainty of being right for each other, without being afraid of doing the wrong thing? And if that happens, if you do the wrong thing now, you will eventually hurt Bucky and that’s definitely the last thing you want.

That’s fucked up and you know it. But it’s what you’re feeling.

You keep it to yourself, though.  

~~~

It’s a few hours after the girls left your place, you take a refreshing and long bath and are about to put on a movie to relax a bit more for the rest of the evening. Maybe that way you can put your thoughts and feelings in order.

That duality of emotions is crushing your mind. You wanted some time alone and you had that… now, you can’t help the feeling that you need to come to a decision, a conclusion of some sort, you just can’t keep pushing it further. For better or for worse. Or you will lose your mind soon.

A comfort movie is in order for all the thinking you need to do, so you set “The Prisoner of Azkaban” on your TV before you head to the kitchen. You’re still pretty full of all the junk food the three of you made a feast of the whole afternoon, so you decide to prepare just an old recipe of peach iced tea your mom has taught you. Perfect for the hot weather, too.

You’ve just added the ice in the jar when your intercom rings. You frown wondering who could that be and check your phone for any missed calls or messages, finding none before answering the intercom.

“Yeah? Oh… no, yeah, sure, come up.” You press the button to let him in. Your heart beats just slightly faster, wondering what could he possibly be doing there.

“Hi,” he greets, once you open the door after he pressed the ringer.

“Hi,” you answer, and without even thinking, just keep staring at him, blocking his way into your apartment while he stands at your door, holding a big box in his hands.

“Can I come in?” He asks, when you say nothing else.  

“Oh, yeah, of course, sorry.” You step aside, allowing Eddie to walk into your living room with a tight smile on his lips.  

“Please,” you gesture towards your sofa and he nods, walking with you over there, “I was about to pour me some iced tea, would you like some?” You offer, tentativeness still present in your tone, while the big box secured in his hands grasps your attention for a second.   

“Your mom’s recipe?” He asks, his whole face lightening up as he takes his seat.

You chuckle and nod.

“Oh, hell yeah, then.”

You take just a little longer than you actually need to fix the tea for the two of you in the kitchen. For some reason, his presence, after the night before, what you did with Bucky and after you coming to terms that you are, indeed, growing feelings for the other guy… it just unsettles you.

After taking a deep breath or two, you come back to the living room. Some small conversation ensues while you take a seat by his side and you two drink from the tea you’ve just prepared.

“Ahm…What’s that?” At some point you give in to the curiosity and nod towards the box now on your center table.

He smiles, before placing his cup on your table and taking the box in his hands. He shifts on the sofa, making room for placing it on one of the cushions between the two of you. “I was taking a look at it at home earlier, it just… I couldn’t help myself… and decided to come by to show you.”

When he opens the lid, placing it aside, you take in the contents, which makes your heart beat a bit funny at the surprise. You recognize pictures of the two of you, letters, a few souvenirs… All of them represent a memory of your relationship.   

“Oh…” you say. You know all that stuff had been stashed in some place, but you never knew he had taken them with him once he moved out.

“Yeah…” Eddie brushes the back of his neck, peering at you from beneath his lashes, “I guess I really wasn’t that confident about my decision when I left…” he shrugs, looking down at the box again, “I just couldn’t leave it behind.”

You give him a tightened and brief smile, before placing your teacup on the table and starting to fumble through the items inside the box. You let out a breathy laugh when you find a picture of the day you two have met… he had founded a study group on advanced software creating techniques and you were the only one to show up.

“Oh my God…” you laugh.

“Yeah… what a couple of nerds,” Eddie chuckles, looking at the picture.

He helps you through the shuffling when you go through some more pictures from college, his family, your family… the day you two closed the deal to buy the apartment… the letter you received when you were both accepted in the Avengers tech team…

You feel the tears gathering in your eyes before they start silently rolling down your cheeks… It’s a weird sensation, it’s like meeting with an old part of yourself, an old friend. One that has never really left, but you almost don’t recognize anymore… leading to a nostalgic and longing feeling.

They’re all good memories stashed on that box… of course… you guess no one is really keen to proposedly keep a souvenir from the bad ones… but that’s not on what your focus lays right now.  Your attention is caught by a particular thing from the box. A small gasp escapes your lungs at the sight.

You look up at Eddie, whose eyes have been intensely trained on you, before you grab the object in your hands.

It’s a scrapbook you two have made through college years. While you silently and carefully go through the pages your life passes in front of your eyes. Movie and concert tickets… more pictures… a few drawings… software ideas you had together… little notes you’ve written to each other… and then, on the very last couple of pages, there they are.

You remember them. The day you two decided to write a letter to each other, telling how you wanted your future to be.

You roam your fingers through the frayed papers… you don’t have to read them again to know what’s there. You remember. Without knowing, in the end you two had written the exact same thing in both letters… among other small stuff, you two wrote you wanted a kick ass job, live in the city in an apartment of your own… and stay together forever.

Your watery gaze follows when Eddie slides down to the floor and kneels before you, taking your hands in his, “I meant every word then and I still do,” he says, softly, staring deeply into your eyes, “I can’t see my future without you… I just can’t.” He shakes his head, before it drops.

You see how his lips twist before he looks up at you again, with a saddened look on his face, “I know how that guy makes you feel…”

Your body freezes just as your heart does and you feel the precise moment when it splits in two. That heavy sensation comes back to your chest when the image of Bucky pops into your mind and suddenly there are two lives running before your eyes. One there, with Eddie, with everything you've ever dreamed of… the other running straight into Bucky's arms and leaving all of that behind.

And you know there's only one right for you.

You're brought back to reality by the sound of Eddie's voice.

 “I- I know about what happened last night, I, ahm, I’ve heard the girls…” he stammers but holds his hold on your hands when you shift on your seat and he senses your discomfort. “No… it’s ok. “I know it’s new… it’s exciting…” he continues, nodding and hastily licking his lips, “And you deserve to explore that. You do… it’s ok.” He puts on a small smile, “But I want you to know that I’m here. I’m waiting for you. I’m waiting for us… for our future. No matter how long it takes. How much fun you need to have with that guy before you realize what I already know.” He smiles wider, “Because I know you and I are it. We’ve always been it.”

You’re frowning while looking down at him. His words making their way into your senses.  

You free one hand of his secured hold to reach over and cup his smiling face.

He leans into your touch.

You make a decision. 

[spacesnail3000]

Brooklyn’s Sweetheart Chapter 10: Goody Two-Shoes Catholic Schoolgirl

Pairing: Stucky x Reader

Chapter Summary: The boys like long walks on the beach, messy ice cream cones, expensive liquors, and, of course, public displays of affection (which is putting it mildly). Although that’s not her idea of a perfect date, she still wants to prove she can keep up. 

Word Count: 6,404

Warnings: Language, drinking, smut (noncon breathplay, dubcon public sex, fingering, some really intense stuff in this chapter, be warned!!!)

Masterlist / AO3

A/N: Aaaaaaah I posted this chapter last night and today when I tried to change a tag and reblog it, it broke the chapter!! How do I reblog things without breaking my posts??? I just hope I’m not making duplicates of this by posting again ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

“Here, baby, you got a little—” Steve reached his hand towards her face to wipe off a smear of chocolate syrup from the corner of her mouth, but she caught on too soon and her own thumb beat him there. A quick swipe of her finger and the chocolate was gone, and her thumb was in her mouth, sucking it off, wide innocent eyes flickering back and forth between Steve and Bucky.

Bucky didn’t realize he had groaned until Y/N was smirking at him with glossy pink lips, her ice cream cone melting in her hands. After dinner, they had walked around and finally decided on ice cream. That had altogether been a mistake for Steve and Bucky, because it allowed their girl to finally realize that she had just as much power to tease them in public as they did.

She felt much looser after Steve had secretly gotten her a gin of her own at the restaurant, and now she was settling back into their old dynamic with the added exception that they touched her much more than usual. The sexual tension was driving them all crazy.

They were both painfully hard in their jeans watching her lick creamy vanilla drops of melted ice cream off her waffle cone. At least they were sitting at a table outside the ice cream shop and the surrounding area was mostly deserted. 

“Seems like I’m winning the game, now,” she simpered, her mouth running quicker with the alcohol in her blood.

Bucky swallowed hard, because she was right, but he schooled himself and smirked at her. “In your dreams, sweetheart.”

Steve was a little more flustered and was having a harder time with her newfound confidence. “You don’t win the game. That’s not a thing. It’s rigged against you for a reason.”

Cocking an eyebrow, she glanced surreptitiously to their crotches, the prominent bulges confined by denim. “But I’m clearly winning.”

The waffle cone dropped to the ground with a sad crunch as Steve grabbed her arm and started pulling her in the direction of the car. “We’ll see how long that lasts when we get back to the house.”

Once they got back, Bucky leaned against the kitchen counter with their girl wrapped in his arms, hands wandering around her body as she squirmed. Meanwhile, Steve rooted through the liquor cabinet.

“How long of this can you take, doll?” Bucky whispered, breath hot against her ear. His hands trailed up her thighs, raising the hem of her skirt indecently high.

“Hey!” she whined, breathless, as he revealed her pussy, although of course nobody was there to see it except Steve, who glanced up from the liquor cabinet to leer at her before going back to his search. She had no idea what he was looking for, but he had told Bucky to keep her busy, so she suspected that he was taking a long time on purpose.

“Ah-ha!” Steve exclaimed, head emerging, a twenty-year-old bottle of cognac in his hands, while Bucky’s fingers skated over the juncture between her leg and pussy, the tips just grazing the outside of her labia before disappearing, and then she felt the soft fabric of her skirt against her once again.

“I like the way you think, Rogers,” Bucky said as Steve brandished the liquor bottle. His arms returned to her waist, and he squeezed her tight. The sound she made was in between a squeal and a giggle and it made Bucky’s stomach do a cartwheel. 

As Steve reached into the upper cabinets to take down three of her father’s brandy snifters, she said, “My dad got that for my mom for their fifteenth wedding anniversary.” 

“Your mom likes cognac?” Bucky was surprised. They usually saw her mother with a vodka soda—fewer calories, of course.

“No,” she laughed, “That’s why she left it here.” Steve snorted, pouring their glasses before handing one to each. “Here, I’ll teach you guys the proper way to drink it,” she said with a wiggle of her eyebrows. 

“There’s a proper way to drink cognac?” Bucky asked.

“There’s a proper way to drink all alcohol,” she answered with a roll of her eyes.

“Well go on then,” Steve said, nudging her with his elbow. “Teach us what you know.”

She held the glass with the palm of her hand cupping the rounded bottom. “Hold it like this so the heat from your hand warms up the cognac.” The boys followed her lead. “The way the top of the glass is narrow traps the aroma, so then you can smell it,” and she did, and the boys did too. She continued, “And you can make some kind of bullshit comment about how the oak note is most profound, and there’s a subtle fruity scent, and a spicy undertone like cinnamon or nutmeg. And then everyone thinks you’re really cultured but the truth is you’re just making everything up but nobody else knows enough about it to contradict you.”

Bucky snorted and ducked his head against her shoulder, and even Steve huffed a laugh. “Who taught you that? Your dad?”

“My dad’s that type of guy,” she confirmed, sipping the drink. “They’re both all into that high society stuff. I could tell you what meats go best with cognac, what cheeses to pair with it. How to make a good sidecar—I think we have Cointreau down there, actually.”

“I thought you never drank before,” Bucky said.

She shrugged, “My dad would let me have a little sip every now and then. That’s how you’re supposed to drink cognac, not chugging it like that,” she nodded to Steve how had been taking a long drink. Immediately he lowered the glass and glared at her.

“If you’re so cultured, what’re you doing here slumming it with us Brooklyn boys?” Bucky asked, squeezing her again with the arm he still had wrapped around her middle.

“Hey,” she whined, jabbing back at him with her elbow. “I’d prefer hanging out with you over going to one of my mom’s fancy dinner parties any day.” 

And it was true. Despite all that they had put her through over the past few days, she still cherished their friendship, and she still enjoyed hanging out with them—when they weren’t testing her physical boundaries, that is.

Even when they were, maybe she didn’t mind it as much as she let on. Or maybe she was only thinking that way because of the alcohol.

“Aww,” Bucky cooed teasingly, “Our girl’s such a sap, Stevie.”

“Both’a you are big saps,” Steve said, hiding his smile in his glass.

She rolled her eyes. “Why do I like you guys again?”

They continued their little banter, getting looser and looser as they finished their glasses. Bucky and Steve each had another glass, but she only got halfway through her second before Steve decided she had had enough.

Bucky’s hands continued roaming her body throughout, sometimes teasing her enough to distract her from whatever she was saying only for his hands to move back to innocent territory, leaving her wanting and needy and frustrated, although she wasn’t quite ready to speak up about it yet.

Truthfully, the alcohol was the only reason she wasn’t objecting to his touch as much as she usually would. Her brain, in its alcohol-induced haze, reasoned that she needed to pick her battles, that maybe she could relax for the night.

She just felt so good, like honey flowed through her body, and she relished the slow, sweet, stickiness—and oh boy, did her thighs feel sticky. It was almost distracting—but then again, everything was distracting. Was she drunk? Is this how being drunk felt?

“Let’s take a walk on the beach,” Bucky suggested, “It’s a nice night out.”

“Good idea,” Steve smirked at him and she easily agreed, inhibitions lowered. She leaned into their touch as they led her outside. Steve had one arm slung around her waist while Bucky held onto her hand, shoulders brushing.

Once they reached the sand, she kicked off her sandals with a giggle and left them at the back gate to the house. Bucky and Steve toed their shoes off, too, leaving three pairs waiting for them to get back. 

It was a quiet night, a crescent moon shining in the sky and sending barely enough light down to see in front of them. Stripes of silver reflected off the waves and the only sound was the hush of the water and their mild conversation, Y/N’s occasional giggles.

As they walked further down the beach and away from the house, Steve slipped his hand down, playing with the top of her skirt and then cupping her ass through the thin fabric. At first, she tensed again, but then relaxed when all he seemed content to do was touch her through her clothes, going no further for a long while. Steve’s touch had her feeling more apprehensive for some reason—maybe she was getting used to Bucky after the past few days. Maybe she would get used to Steve with time, too.

The cognac had hit her by then, and she had her own arm draped across Steve’s wide back for balance. Her mouth was running on its own as they talked about nonsense.

“I really like your tattoos,” she was saying.

“Well they’re all mob tattoos, sugar,” Steve said. His own tattoos included the one on his lower abdomen, the official seal of the mob across his chest, a large piece on his back with an eagle emerging from the sun, and a tribute to his mother on his arm—a custom design of a blue jay perched on a heart, surrounded by her favorite flowers: Queen Anne’s lace, hydrangeas, and gladiolus flowers. There were more, small and large, and she wondered how many there would be if she counted them.

Both he and Bucky had gotten a matching tattoo together, a black star on their bicep, to memorialize their brotherhood. Bucky had fewer tattoos than Steve, but he also had the seal of the mob, a traditional portrait of the Statue of Liberty on his other bicep, and a piece on his stomach that included a white wolf.

“That’s a lie,” she said, and her fingers skimmed over his right bicep where the tattoo for his mother was. Steve stiffened a little, not wanting to get into this conversation. She didn’t say anything about it though, and then her hand dropped, running down his chest, dipping up under the hem of his t-shirt and tickling across the BROOKLYN tattoo on his stomach. It was a bold move for her, but her brain didn’t question it, the alcohol controlling her actions now. His cock twitched at her touch and he squeezed her tighter, imagining her hands drifting lower.

Before he could do anything, her hand was gone and she was saying something else. “I think I’ll get a tattoo one day.”

Bucky snorted. “Yeah, right, sure you will.”

She smacked him in the arm but then he captured her hand in his again, placing a sweet kiss to her knuckles. “I will!”

“You’re a little goody two-shoes Catholic schoolgirl,” Bucky said, “You’re not gonna get a tattoo. Plus, you father would never let you.”

“I don’t need his permission. I’m 18.”

It was Steve’s turn to laugh. “Yes you do, sweetheart.”

“And I’m not that good!”

“You sing in the church choir,” Bucky said, “You’re literally an angel.”

 “I break the rules sometimes!”

“Oh yeah?” Steve asked, squeezing her ass tight. “What rules have you broken?”

She had to think about it. “One time I skipped class with Wanda and we went to Prospect Park and got ice cream.”

“What class?”

“…Okay, it was our free period. But we’re not supposed to leave campus during free period!”

“Oh, Stevie, I think she wants to be a bad girl. She’s trying so hard to prove herself.” She spluttered in response, not knowing the right thing to say. Because it wasn’t true—she didn’t want to be bad… She just wanted them to know she was capable of it. The alcohol made her want to match their debauchery, although she had never had the urge to before.

Steve turned to her, stopping her in her tracks. He pulled her closer and took her chin in his fingers. “You know when you break the rules, you get punished, sweetheart. You willing to accept the consequences?”

She frowned and said, “You only get punished if you get caught.”

“I’ll catch you every time.”

Lost in his intense gaze, the alcohol and her arousal dulling her brain function, she could only pout at him.

“C’mon,” he groped at her ass again and then swooped her up over his shoulder while she squealed. “Let’s get in the water.” He wanted to see her wet and shivering for him—ever since he saw her in that little white tank top, all he could think was how the fabric would look when it was soaked.

“What?” she cried, “No way! It’s too cold!” She hit at his back but before she knew it, he was tossing her into the ocean. The water wasn’t that high, but he set her down with enough force than she fell over onto her ass, a wave rushing over her suddenly. She shrieked at the feeling and then scrambled up. It was barely shin-deep, and the bottom of his pants were getting wet, but it was worth it to see her like this.

The fabric of her top was soaked through, clinging obscenely to her breasts, nipples clearly visible beneath. Her skirt was dripping wet and sticking to her hips. As Steve admired her, her anger was charging up, and then she came at him, hitting his chest with her little fists.

Her weak punches only made him laugh and he easily captured her wrists in his hands. “Sorry, baby,” he shrugged.

“No you’re not!” she yelled, struggling against him. “You’re such a jerk sometimes!” She was mad, but only a little. Truthfully, she was feeling so great that she didn’t really mind, nor did she realize how provocative her clothing had become.

He laughed at her feigned fury and held her back at his arm’s length, eyeing her body again—although she seemed almost oblivious to his wandering gaze. She only noticed when he spoke. “Look at you, doll.” His voice was almost a growl, low in his chest, rumbling through his body and to hers. She shivered as the wind swept by them, and her nipples pebbled in her top.

“Wow,” Bucky drawled, now stepping up next to them. He had rolled his jeans up so they wouldn’t get wet. “Lookin’ like a wet dream, sweetheart.”

She blushed and ducked her head, but Steve lifted her chin and kissed her deeply. This time, she didn’t pull away or struggle, she only gave into it, leaning into him and kissing him back tentatively. It helped that his body was so warm and she was freezing now, soaking wet. He dominated her mouth, the kiss, but she sank into the sensation, the anxiety that usually fueled her resistance quelled by the rush of alcohol through her veins.

On his tongue, she could taste cognac and peppermint and the Parliaments he smoked, and his lips were a little chapped, rough on her own. A shudder went through her and he wrapped her up in his arms. Bucky came up behind her and ran his large palms up and down her arms. Their warmth seeped into her, making her feel like she was melting against them like warm honey, every part of her going loose and limp. Wetness gathered between her thighs, only heightening her arousal, which had been simmering in her stomach all night.

Bucky’s hand snuck between their bodies and he cupped her sex fully in his hand, the only barrier between their skin being her skirt, the fabric still damp with seawater. She moaned into Steve’s mouth and he brought his own hands down to grab her ass, pulling her body further into Bucky’s hand.

“Oh,” she groaned at the delicious pressure, allowing Steve to grind her hips against the hand.

“Soaking through your skirt, baby doll,” Bucky growled into her neck. His hand bypassed her skirt and then it was on her heated skin, and she mewled from the dizzying sensation. While he palmed at her clit, his fingers slipped through her folds, needlessly spreading her wetness—she had already dripped halfway down her thighs. “Stevie, she’s so wet for us,” he moaned against her shoulder, easily slipping one finger into her cunt.

Steve broke the kiss, and she turned her head to gasp at the barrage of arousal sweeping through her. Chuckling against her cheek, Steve muttered, “I’m sure she is. Her nipples have been hard since we were at the restaurant—seems like she liked our teasing more than she let on.”

“Is that true, darling?”

“No.” Shaking her head, eyes shut, her head lolling back onto Bucky’s shoulder. “It’s not true.” But her pussy contracted against his finger and when he slid another in, she clutched at Steve’s arms, crying out breathily.

“Stop lying to us,” Steve grunted against her neck, pressing slick kisses along her skin. She smelled like lavender and oranges and vanilla, the new perfume she wore sinking into her damp skin, the wetness and the heat between their bodies amplifying the scent. “Stop lying to yourself.” He pressed her down harder onto Bucky’s hand and the tips of his fingers pressed into places so deep, places that had never been touched before.

She keened and panted, then collected her wits and said, “’m not lying.”

Immediately, suddenly, Bucky pulled his fingers out and smacked her pussy twice, hard, causing her to cry out and lurch forward. She collided with Steve’s chest and stumbled, but he steadied her before she fell. “Good girls don’t lie, baby,” Bucky growled, biting down hard on her shoulder. “Do they?”

She shook her head, but whether it was at his question, or at the notion that she was lying, or at him denying her pleasure just as she was about to come, was anybody’s guess.

Then Steve’s hands were working at Bucky’s fly. “Bucky’s gonna fuck you, baby doll, and you’re gonna come so hard for him, as many times as I say, until—”

“Wait!” she gasped, some of her senses coming back to her suddenly as she reminded her own drunk ass that they were in public and someone could see. 

It was one thing to have Bucky touching her when they were on the sailboat in the middle of the bay, and another to have them touching her at a booth in a private little corner of a restaurant across the island. But it was an entirely different thing to have Bucky’s cock against her ass on the shoreline in this area of town. It wasn’t incredibly busy, but there were a few other houses up and down the beach. None too close—they weren’t fucking in someone’s backyard—but someone could walk along the beach and come across them right there.

Despite her sudden protest, they ignored her—like always. As Steve’s hands unzipped Bucky’s jeans and Bucky flipped her skirt up, she darted out of their grasps, past Steve, and up the shoreline, into the shallower waters until she was almost at the sand.

They caught up to her in no time, and Steve wound his arms around her waist and pulled her against him, practically carrying her now. Her feet left the earth and he growled in her ear, “Baby, good girls don’t run.”

“Wait!” she turned in his arms and placed her delicate hands on his broad shoulders. “Let’s go back to the house! Please! Someone could see!”

He smirked and Bucky positioned himself behind her. They were no longer so deep in the surf—the waves only lapped at their feet occasionally now, the foam tickling their toes.

“No one will see, doll,” Bucky assured her, running his hands up her arms soothingly. “I promise—I’ve never seen anyone out here this late. Plus, a lot of people just went home so all the summer homes are vacant now.”

Her face showed skepticism but she allowed Bucky to pull her down to the ground, her knees sinking into the sand, and Steve followed when Bucky tugged on his hand. 

“Just relax. No one will see,” Steve whispered to her before taking her face in his hands and kissing her. This was remarkably affectionate for Steve, and it caught her so off-guard that she sank into the kiss, paying more attention to his thumbs stroking her cheeks than Bucky lifting her skirt up. Bucky kissed her neck and his stubble on her sensitive skin added to the sensations her mind was processing as he touched her ass, spread her cheeks apart.

“So fucking pretty,” he rumbled against her neck, his hand drifting down to play with the wetness on her thighs. “Stevie, you should really feel her.”

Steve’s hand joined Bucky’s, his short fingernails raking up the inside of her thigh before pressing against her pussy. “Oh, Bucky,” Steve groaned, “She’s ready for you. Aren’t you, baby?”

“No, I—I’m—” She had no idea what she was about to say, why she was still protesting, when they had teased her to the edge so many times that night that she would do just about anything to come. Her words were cut off when Steve pressed three fingers against her cunt, spreading her labia open before sinking his fingers deep inside. “Please,” she squeaked when he found that spot deep inside her that made her cry out without even realizing she made a sound, and then his fingers were pressing hard and fast into that spot until she was practically limp as she leaned back against Bucky.

“Ah, right there,” Steve said pridefully, dragging her almost to the edge and pulling back right as she was about to come. He licked his fingers off with a smirk and when she whined about his stopping, he said, “I want you coming on Bucky’s cock so he can feel how good it is.”

 The next moment, she felt Bucky’s cock where Steve’s fingers had been, the blunt tip pressing inside of her and splitting her apart. As she was distracted by the feeling of Bucky slowly filling her inch by inch, Steve tugged down the thin straps of her tank top, fingers drifting to pull at the neckline until one of her breasts was freed. Bucky’s hands held her hips in place and Steve’s lips met her own, kissing her lax mouth. 

She held her breath once she felt Bucky’s pelvis meet her ass, his cock completely sheathed inside of her, and she felt so full, almost on the edge of too much, but Jesus it was good. A little ball of anxiety remained in her head about if someone were to see them, but every time she dwelled too much on it, she felt overwhelmed, adrenaline coursing through her—and not necessarily in a bad way, she realized.

Then Bucky pulled back out and she actually whimpered at how it felt, the contrasting feelings of full and empty inside of her, the way his cock stretched her so perfectly.

“Fuck, her pussy feels so good,” Bucky groaned. Steve observed the scene, enraptured by the view. Bucky’s eyes shut tight, mouth open in a groan as he fucked back into her; her own face, so blissed out and flushed, lips swollen in the sweetest pout; her body, wet and wanting, clothes clinging to her skin and providing the barest amount of cover; her legs quivering, hips shifting back subtly into Bucky’s every thrust.

“Good God,” he grunted, trying to breathe through his own arousal. He could probably come right there, but he definitely wanted to wait.

“How’s that feel, baby?” Bucky asked in her ear, thrusting shallowly inside of her.

She nodded and keened at his hand sneaking around her hip and cupping her pussy again, just like before, long fingers feeling the way his cock slid in and out of her, the ball of his hand pressing up into her clit. 

“Fuck,” she mewled, bucking her hips into his touch.

“Hey,” Steve snapped, twisting her nipple. “I don’t like hearing that kind of language from your mouth.” A loud cry left her lips, and Steve continued, pinching at her other nipple with quick hands. “Not so loud, baby girl,” he murmured, “Wouldn’t want the whole neighborhood to hear, would we?”

And she was so wound up already, so on the edge from their teasing, from not being able to come all night, that his words did it for her, and she was coming, hips canting back onto Bucky’s cock, back arching, chest pressing into Steve’s harsh touch.

They held her gently in their arms as she came until she was trembling, her pleasure sweeter than any drug for them. She whimpered and moaned, gasped when they touched her in just the right spots, tight hands on her hips, lips mouthing at her shoulder, harsh pinches to her nipples. Steve kissed her until she couldn’t breathe, then nudged her chin towards Bucky’s waiting lips, and Bucky kissed her through the aftershocks, still pumping his cock inside her until she whined into his mouth.

When she was done, panting into the air between the three of them, Bucky’s breath hitting her cheek, Steve chuckled against her neck. “You love this,” he told her, fingers finding her clit, Bucky thrusting harder inside of her now. She shook her head slightly and Steve grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Stop. Lying.” His teeth were gritted and he looked at her with narrowed eyes. “We can both tell how much you want it, how fucking filthy you are for us. You wanted us all throughout dinner and you want us now, and we’re not going to stop until we get our fill.”

“No,” she gasped, still trying to fight the pleasure that was building back up so quickly again. “I—I don’t—”

Steve stood up and stepped back, “Buck, hold her down and fuck her hard.”

Without the support of Steve in front of her, her body collapsed forward into the wet sand, holding herself up now on her forearms. Her body jolted forward with each punishing thrust of Bucky’s hips. Bucky leaned down over her and then she was flat on her stomach as he rutted her into the ground. Sand stuck to her skin on her arms, her chest, high on her thighs and all down her legs. 

“That’s right, baby,” Bucky growled in her ear, hips thrusting wildly. “Take my cock, take it, take it.” And she was forced to do just that—lie in the sand and take it, whatever way he wanted to fuck her. She felt dizzy, her mind fuzzy, and his cock almost hurt with the force that he was fucking her. So soon after her last orgasm, it felt like it was tearing through her, and she could feel every inch of him, hard and heavy.

He shifted his hips on his next thrust and hit her g-spot dead center, and she cried out at how good it felt, hands digging into the sand in an attempt to grab onto something, coming up empty as the grains slipped through her fingers.

Bucky chuckled above her as she squirmed. “That’s it, right there, isn’t it?” He hit the spot again and again, grunting in her ear. 

“Make her take it, Bucky,” Steve said, palming himself through his jeans, “Force her to take your cock. I want you to fuck her until she’s coming again. She wants you so bad, baby, I can tell.”

Bucky held her wrists in one hand and thrust into her continuously until she was practically crying, another weaker orgasm washing over her. Once it was over, she laid limp in the sand while he used her body. “We know you love it, sweetheart. You love my cock inside you, love it when we fuck you. Your pussy needs it, ain’t that right?” She shook her head feebly and he chuckled.

In one movement, Bucky yanked her upright by her shoulder into his chest, taking all the pressure of his cock off of that spot inside her. She cried out from the sudden change in stimulation. It would have been a relief if his cock wasn’t stretching her now in a totally different way, almost burning, painful, but only fueling the fire in her body more. “Please, Bucky, please—" She had no idea what she was begging for, but she needed something—a break, maybe. A minute to rest. Maybe she needed to come again. She didn’t know.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart. Tell me you need me to fuck you, that you need me to make you come.”

But the words wouldn’t come out of her mouth—she couldn’t make herself say them, she was too overwhelmed. The connection between her brain and her mouth was severed, and all she could do was cry out and moan into the salty air around them.

“If she’s not gonna answer you, let’s put her mouth to better use,” Steve suggested, pulling his own cock out of his jeans. He had been content to watch them, but now he was so painfully hard, he had to get his hands on her.

“No, wait, don’t—” She didn’t know how she would be able to breathe with his cock in her mouth when it was already so hard, every one of Bucky’s thrusts pushing the air from her lungs like she was being winded. But her protests fell on deaf ears and then his cock was lodged in her throat. 

Fellatio wasn’t an entirely pleasant experience, she was finding—at least not like this, as she gagged and choked and slobbered all over herself. Although she did like the sounds Steve made, his little groans and grunts, the occasional whimper. It made her feel like she was taking something from him, making him more vulnerable. It made her feel powerful.

As Steve fucked deep into her mouth, her airway was cut off, and eventually she needed to breathe. Struggling and smacking against his thighs, she tried to pull away but he had a tight grip on her hair. 

“Get her hands, Buck,” Steve grunted, thrusting in a little deeper and holding himself there. Once Bucky restrained her wrists behind her back, Steve took one hand from her hair and used the other to pinch her nose shut, further cutting off her oxygen supply as he fucked her face. As her body became looser and more pliant with oxygen deprivation, her mouth and throat became lax, allowing Steve’s cock to go deeper in her mouth, and when Bucky let go of her wrists, she was too weak to struggle. 

“Fuck,” Bucky cursed, gripping her hips hard enough to leave bruises.

“Good girl,” Steve breathed, voice low in his throat, guttural and strained, “Taking us so well, just like you’re meant to. Doing such a good job for us.”

“Gonna come soon,” Bucky grunted, forehead pressed against the base of her neck.

“Make her come again first,” Steve breathed, “Then you can come.”

Bucky brought one hand to her clit, rubbing in quick circles. Her body jerked between their grasps, every muscle quivering as she was brought closer to orgasm. The oxygen deprivation made her every nerve feel fuzzy, somehow accentuating the pleasure she felt in her core. “C’mon, honey, be a good girl and come for me.” 

He wound her up tighter and she vibrated with need, letting the pleasure wash over her like a riptide in the ocean overtaking her, pulling her under as she came so hard she blacked out. They both came at the same time as her, with Bucky pulling out of her pulsing cunt to empty on her ass while Steve pulled away from her mouth and came on her face so she wouldn’t choke.

Steve had been supporting almost her entire weight with his grip on her hair, so when he finally stepped back and let her go, she almost collapsed forward before Bucky caught her. “Woah,” he breathed, easing her onto her back when he realized she was not entirely conscious.

Quickly stuffing themselves back into their pants, they kneeled at her side. Blood turning cold with fear, heart pounding out of his chest, Bucky shook her limp body gently by the shoulders. Remaining calm and collected, Steve said her name a few times, hoping to rouse her. “Baby,” he said, voice stern, “Wake up, honey.” She shifted, but did not open her eyes until Steve smacked her cheek lightly. “Wake up now, Y/N.”

Bucky felt immeasurable relief when she finally responded, frowning a little bit as she awoke. She gazed up at them with unseeing eyes, her entire body exhausted from the events of the night. Blinking lazily, eyes glazed over, she turned her face into Steve’s touch when he ran a hand through her hair.

“You did really well for us, sweetheart,” Bucky said, straightening up her clothing and brushing the sand from her skin. Whining, she twitched and shied away from the coarse gritty feeling scraping at her delicate skin. “There you go, baby, just a little more.” His hands ran over her breasts and arms, her thighs, even brushing some sand from her cheek, trying to be as gentle as possible. Meanwhile, Steve tried to wipe the come off of her face but only served to messily rub the semen into her skin before he gave up.

“We gotta get you cleaned up. How do you feel?” Steve asked, brushing sweaty strands of hair from her face.

“Tired,” she responded, closing her eyes again.

“Hey, stay awake until we get back to the house,” Steve said sternly.

She laughed weakly, just a little huff of air and a lazy twitch of her lips. “I don’t think I can walk.”

Steve smirked while Bucky laughed. “I’ll carry you,” Bucky said, collecting her from Steve.

“Was it good?” she asked, voice cracking, eyes oddly watery as she gazed up at him. He knew she was probably feeling vulnerable and sensitive after being used by them so roughly, and he knew the importance of taking care of her after a hard session like that. Aftercare was his forte, after all, and he was well-versed in comforting her after Steve’s outbursts or admonishments. This wasn’t very different from that.

Bucky nodded, cupping her cheek. “It was really good, sweetheart,” he reassured her, “You were really good, such a good girl for us.”

She looked over at Steve, an unsure look on her face. “Did you like it, Stevie?”

Steve’s eyes softened and he nodded. “I loved it, darling. You did amazing. You pleased us so well, and we can’t wait to do it again.”

Turning her head into Bucky’s chest, she nodded, seemingly content. “So did I win?”

“Win?” Bucky asked.

“Did I win the game?”

Steve laughed at that. “Yeah, honey, you definitely won.”

“I thought it was rigged against me,” she sassed him as they stood up and started to walk back to the house.

“Just because you won doesn’t mean we lost,” Steve said.

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Well, it doesn’t have to. I make the rules.”

“Yeah, yeah…”

As they walked back to the house, Bucky kept a running dialogue of praise, telling her how good she was for them, how much they loved it. However, she was unusually quiet, even as Bucky rinsed her off and dressed her in a pair of athletic shorts and a sweatshirt. 

As he tucked her into bed, he asked, “You okay, sweetheart?”

She nodded, an absent look in her eyes. “Tired.” Truthfully, she didn’t know how to feel. A dozen different emotions ran through her head, and she didn’t know which ones were rational responses to the events of the night and which were not, but she didn’t have the will to process them right now. Her mind still felt fuzzy, her body weak, sleep calling to her louder and louder with each second. 

“Okay, honey.” He kissed her forehead, each of her cheeks, and finally her lips, so gently that she would have cried had she not felt so drained. “Get some sleep, baby.”

Bucky slipped into his bedroom where Steve was waiting, fresh clothes and all. As Bucky changed his own sand-covered clothes, Steve said, “I should’ve gotten a picture of her with my come all over her face.”

He hummed, because yes, that would have been hot, but also his blood still felt cold from how scared he got when she passed out. “We need to be more gentle with her,” he said finally, frustration evident in his voice as he yanked his sweats on. “You need to be more gentle.”

Slumping down on Bucky’s bed, Steve scoffed. “She won’t break. She’s perfectly fine.”

“Steve, she passed out. That shouldn’t have happened.”

Steve was on his feet then, squaring up to Bucky, faces almost touching. His tone turned cold when he spoke next. “I think I’m running the show here, Buck. I say what should or shouldn’t have happened.”

Bucky wasn’t scared by his intimidation tactics. “It’s different with her and you know it. She isn’t like the other girls we’ve shared—she’s not used to it. We need to work her up slowly to this kind of shit.”

The sound of Steve’s phone ringing interrupted their conversation. He pulled it out and frowned. “It’s Tony,” he told Bucky before answering. Tony started speaking as soon as Steve picked up, and Bucky could hear his rapid voice from the other end, although he couldn’t make out specific words. “Slow down, Tony,” Steve said, “What happened?” After a moment, he blew out a breath, his face falling. “Shit.” Tony said something else, and Steve responded, “Of course. We’ll be back in a few hours.”

Then Steve hung up and Bucky asked, “What’s that about? We need to go back to Brooklyn?”

Back to his stoic demeanor, Steve nodded, expression severe. “We need to pack up. Stane got arrested and Tony wants us back in New York immediately.”

[ashisfun]

Hello my beautiful lazy little cherry tomato. I saw ur tag on how Ben is Dom-y. I totally see it but if you could provide some headcanon/canon examples I most appreciate it 👀👌🏼💯. Also I love you P.S you're amazing.

GOSH ANON I’m sorry this took so long. I just got back from a trip and am ready to answer this question. Or, rather, as ready as I’ll ever be.

I think if you watch and see how Ben cares for Leslie, it’s not hard to see he’s rather toppy. Maybe he’s not your traditional dominant to Leslie’s submissive in canon, but he’s definitely not as much of a pushover as I think people may believe (and if they do, THAT’S FINE MY WORD IS NOT FINAL). Leslie is loud and stubborn, a workaholic, a badass queen, and overall wonderful. We all know that. Having a toppy or dom-y dude isn’t going to tamper with that at all. She needs boundaries, though, yeah? Someone who can take care of her. I think this is Ben, and a shining example is that of him sneaking vegetables into her food, which is a way more comical way of how it would probably be done in real life, but hey, this is a comedy show.

I think him up and taking her to the doctor when she had the flu was a crazy toppy move, and they weren’t even dating. It wasn’t really a question if he can take her or will he take her, he just did it. He brings her chicken soup and waffles because he knows the chicken soup is good for her but she likes waffles and he’s a butt who makes me mad. Maybe that last thought was unrelated, but he is a butt.

Also Ben’s way of kissing Leslie is always rather ridiculous and toppy, right? I would argue they are still consensual, but you can totally correct me on that if I am misinterpreting. Their first kiss, he knows she likes him, they almost fucked on Chris’ couch, but he is DONE by the time she puts receipts in his hands. Same with the Smallest Park kiss, she told him she wanted to be with him and he was ready to kiss her face off. That shows the side of bedroom!Ben that I think is rather toppy. The fact that he kisses this way also gives me the big head canon that he enjoys eating pussy, but I mean… okay, he just does.

I don’t think any of the other men in Leslie’s previous relationships were quite like Ben. I think because Ben is rather toppy, he’s very keen on her needs and can meet them and challenge her and make her better, and is one of the reasons why he stays forever. She literally tells him in her vows that he’s all she needs, which sounds at first like literally all she needs is Ben in her life. I’m not going to combat that, being in love is that fucking powerful, however, I would argue she says that because if she has Ben, she can do anything, she can be the best Leslie she can be, and it’s in my mind that being the best she can be requires someone who puts limits on her by making her take days off (Leslie and Ben’s day off!), feeding her vegetables, etc. 

This isn’t a great look at EXAMPLES from the show, but I guess more of how I interpret their entire relationship based on maybe just my own perceptions. I definitely would tell you to check out stories by @c00kie28 who explores the dynamic so fucking well through fic and I’m going to even tell ya to go ask her the same question cuz she will answer it better than me. Or hopefully Hana will add her thoughts on a reblog!

Either way, I hope this was at all helpful. I doubt it was, but oH WELL, LOVE YA ANON.