#talk about it with me even when i tried my damn best not to talk abt my own ship with them

[dreamsteddie]

There is an AITA out there that I can't find but it's been haunting me for weeks with visions of semi-angsty Steddie that I need to release onto the world. (If anyone happens to know what I'm talking about hit me up and I'll link it)

Edit: @jazzathebunny found the original AITA from Reddit linked Here for anyone who wants to read it. I'm definitely not doing exactly the same premise but this was my jumping off point 😊

Part Two! ------

Modern AU, Eddie and the guys are a moderately successful local band in the Chicago area playing gigs on the weekends and doing small tours whenever they all have the time. Gareth and Jeff are both in college while Eddie and Freak are both working part-time at a game store. Eddie managed to lock down that assistant manager position that lets him work 30 hours a week with weekends off for gigs. All in all, it's a pretty sweet deal and they can't complain.

Eddie had sworn off dating after a small handful of disastrous relationship attempts in their first year in the city. He dismisses any advances from people who attend their shows and tries not to think about how much he wants to make a genuine connection with someone and have something real. He's been burned one too many times to try and make something with someone he met in a bar or at work.

He knows the guys talk about it behind his back sometimes, he catches Jeff and Gareth fervently whispering to each other and stopping when they catch him entering the room one time too many to not suspect they're talking about him and he can't think of anything else going on in his life that they would feel the need to whisper about.

The fervent conversations take a slight uptick one day and about a week and a half after they do, Gareth hits him up and tells him he wants to set Eddie up with a guy from one of his classes. At first, Eddie is skeptical and cites all the reasons why he doesn't want to try with anyone right now but eventually, Jeff jumps in to plea the case and Freak jumps in on top of that and under the combined weight of his best friends he agrees to meet up with this Steve guy.

The guys set up the whole thing and before Eddie knows it it's Saturday night and he's wearing his best black jeans and a gray button-down, untucked, to go on an honest to God blind date like his life is some low-budget romcom.

Steve is not at all what Eddie thought he would be. Not the kind of guy he thought his friends would pick out for him given they know he usually goes for other alternatives like himself. Steve, who is shyly waving him over and getting out of his seat to great him, is the very epitome of prep. Well-fitted polo, light blue chinos, and what Eddie assumes this guy thinks are casual loafers. He's handsome to be sure, a 12/10 at least with perfect hair and defined biceps but Eddie is fairly sure he's being punked.

But, Eddie doesn't want to be rude so he goes to meet Steve at the table, confirming just in case that he's actually here to meet with a guy named Eddie. Steve gives him a bit of a confused look, saying that Gareth showed him a couple pictures of Eddie before he agreed to meet and figured he'd done the same for Eddie off Steve's Instagram. Gareth had, in fact, not done anything of the sort but they both dismiss it and get on with their date.

In all honesty, Eddie is expecting it to be a complete wash, but it turns out that even if Steve is not at all what Eddie would have previously said what his type, Steve is damn near perfect. He's funny, kind, a little bitchy, and even though he proves himself to be every bit the sports nerd he looks like he doesn't turn his nose up at Eddie's own much more classically nerdy interests. By the end of the date, Eddie has a new type and that type is Steve Harrington. He's quick to lock down a second date for the next weekend which Steve happily agrees to. They exchange numbers and Steve gives Eddie a chaste kiss on the cheek that has him floating all the way home.

Steve texted him that next morning letting him now he had a great time and is really looking forward to their next date and Eddie thinks this might be the start of something big for him. When he gets to practice he's clearly still floating on cloud nine and in his own little world designing their marriage invitations and matching tombstones so he doesn't notice the sly grins on his bandmates' faces.

"So...how'd it go last night? Everything you dreamed it would be?" Gareth asks, a strange glint in his eyes that Eddie doesn't clock.

Eddie goes on and on about how nice Steve was and how he might be The One, thanking Gareth profusely. Freak looks pleased for him, giving him a hard pat on the shoulder in congratulations but when Eddie finally tunes back into the real world he's greeted by Gareth's livid expression and Jeff's overly concerned one.

He asks the guys what the fuck is up and it turns out that Gareth and Jeff set this whole thing up as a prank of sorts. Eddie was never supposed to hit it off with Steve who Gareth selected specifically because he's a "totally brain-dead prep" and as far away as someone could get from Eddie's previous relationships. He was supposed to be someone Eddie could go on a date with and not form a connection with without getting completely burned at the end like all his previous relationships in the hopes of getting him out of his slump.

Jeff was in on it as well. He wanted to get Eddie back out there, so when Gareth presented the plan he sat in on a couple of Gareth's general credit business class sessions to help pick the guy out.

After Jeff and Gareth finish explaining he does a complete 180 and just...leaves. In any other situation, he would be raging and verbally tearing his friends a new asshole but instead, he completely disengages and walks out the garage door, ignoring his friends' shouts to come back.

He goes back home, socked and hurt and so very confused about how the hell he found himself in this position when his phone lights up.

New Message: Steve H.

Fuck.

-------

Part two coming soon??? Maybe???? We'll see.

[the-winter-spider]

Invisible | Part 11

Pairings: Bucky x Reader (eventually lololol)

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: Angst, stupid people, dramaaaaa

A/N: I aint ready for peace yet 😇🫶🏻

Masterpost

NYU 4th Year

The late afternoon sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon as you exited your lecture hall, your bag slung over your shoulder and your mind already racing with thoughts of your looming paper. The quad was buzzing with students heading off to their weekend plans, and you were lost in your thoughts when you spotted Natasha leaning casually against a lamppost, her red hair catching the golden light.

“There she is,” Nat called, waving you over with a grin. “What took you so long? I’ve been standing here for ages.”

“Class ran late,” you said, rolling your eyes as you walked up to her. “Professor decided to drop a surprise reading quiz on us.”

Natasha scoffed, falling into step beside you. “Reading quizzes on a Friday should be illegal. Anyway, there’s a party tonight at Walker’s place. You coming?”

You hesitated, already feeling the weight of your weekend workload. “I don’t know, Nat. I’ve got that big paper due next week, and I’m kind of behind. I was planning to get a head start tonight.”

Natasha groaned, clasping her hands together in an exaggerated plea. “Come on, please? Wanda already bailed on me, and I really want to see this guy who’s going to be there. I can’t get stuck with the boys by myself—they’ll ruin my whole vibe.”

You sighed, torn between responsibility and the infectious energy of your best friend. “Fine,” you said reluctantly. “But I’m starting my introduction before we leave. No arguments.”

“Scout’s honor,” Natasha said, raising three fingers in a mock salute.

You gave her a pointed look. “You weren’t even a Girl Scout.”

She grinned, undeterred. “True, but I can feel it. In another life, I was definitely a spy.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you parted ways. “Yeah, sure, Nat.”

By the time you got back to your dorm, Natasha was already busy texting, her phone lighting up with each rapid-fire message. You could tell by the sly smile on her face that she was talking to her crush. The thing about Natasha was that she always knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to go after it. She was a spitfire, sharp-tongued and unapologetically confident, but underneath all that fire, she was a hopeless romantic. Most guys your age weren’t ready for someone like her, but that never stopped her from trying.

You sat at your desk and opened your laptop, determined to at least get your introduction done before the night derailed into party chaos. The words flowed easily, and by the time you finished your intro and even managed to start your first paragraph, you felt a small sense of accomplishment.

Alright you texted Natasha, I’m done for now. Let’s get ready.

Within seconds, your phone buzzed with her reply: Finally!!! Be there in 5.

True to her word, Natasha burst into your room moments later, her arms loaded with a makeup bag and a pair of heels. You both commandeered Wanda’s bed, laying out a mess of possible outfits, debating the merits of each one as you tried to find the perfect look.

You finally settled on a sleek black mini-dress that hugged your figure in all the right places, paired with short heels and of course your signature neckless: your locket. Natasha went for a bold red jumpsuit with a plunging neckline and sky-high heels.

Standing side by side in front of the mirror, Natasha let out a low whistle. “Damn, we’re hot.”

You giggled, adjusting the strap of your dress. “We clean up nice.”

Natasha’s eyes drifted to the delicate gold locket resting against your collarbone, and she smiled. “That locket… you’ve been wearing it forever. I’ve never seen you without it.”

You glanced down, your fingers lightly brushing over the familiar weight of the locket. “Yeah, it’s kind of a family thing, my mom gave it to be before she passed"

Natasha, smiled sadly her curiosity piqued. “You never did tell me what’s inside.”

You held the locket, fidgeting it between your fingers. “On one side, there’s a quote about love that my great-great-great-grandmother supposedly wrote. My grandma told me everyone who’s had this locket would place a photo of the man they loved on the other side—so they’d always be close to their heart."

Natasha’s eyes softened. “Your whole family sounds like a bunch of hopeless romantics.”

You laughed. “Apparently. Guess it runs in the blood.”

Natasha smirked, leaning in. “So… who’s in yours?”

You hesitated, your fingers lingering on the locket before closing it. “No one,” you said, offering a small smile. “I don’t really have anyone to put in there right now.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Mhm, sure. No one at all?”

You rolled your eyes. “Not everyone is as quick to fall head over heels as you, Nat.”

“Hey,” she said, placing a hand over her heart dramatically, “I just know what I want.”

“And what you deserve,” you added with a grin.

Natasha nodded approvingly. “Exactly.”

With that, you both grabbed your bags and made your way out of the dorm, ready to take on the night. Natasha’s phone buzzed again, and she couldn’t hide the excitement on her face as she typed back.

You glanced at her, smiling softly. “Texting your mystery man?”

“Maybe,” she said with a wink. “Tonight’s going to be fun—you’ll see.”

The crisp night air buzzed with the energy of the weekend as you and Natasha made your way down the crowded street, laughter and music spilling out from houses along the way. The distant thump of bass grew louder with every step, and soon you were standing in front of John Walker’s house, its windows glowing and the porch already packed with students.

Natasha looped her arm through yours as you approached the door, her heels clicking against the pavement. “You know,” she said, her voice light but teasing, “I always thought you might have Bucky’s picture in that locket.”

You stumbled slightly, your eyes snapping to hers. “What?”

She smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Come on, don’t act so surprised. You two have been inseparable since kindergarten. Best friends, sure, but there’s always been… something.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but she didn’t give you the chance. “I mean, hey, no judgment. I’m just saying I’m a little surprised he’s not in there.”

You were about to respond, to come up with some half-hearted deflection, but before you could, Natasha grinned and yanked you toward the door. “No time for heart-to-hearts now. Let’s find the boys.”

The moment you stepped inside, the heat and noise hit you like a wave. The living room was packed, bodies swaying to the beat of the music as red solo cups were passed around. You caught a glimpse of a makeshift beer pong table in the corner, surrounded by a cheering crowd. The scent of cheap alcohol and sweat mingled in the air, and someone had already spilled something sticky on the floor.

Natasha scanned the room with a practiced eye, her grip still firm on your arm. “There they are,” she said, nodding toward the far side of the room where Steve and Bucky were leaning against a wall, talking. Steve had his usual easy smile, but Bucky’s eyes flicked across the room, as if he was keeping tabs on everything and everyone.

Natasha released your arm and nudged you forward with a sly grin. “Go on. I’ll catch up with you in a minute.” Before you could protest, she disappeared into the crowd, already hunting down her mystery man.

You took a deep breath and weaved your way through the throng of people, your heart picking up speed as you got closer to them. Bucky’s head turned slightly, and when his eyes landed on you, a slow smile spread across his face. He nudged Steve, who looked up and gave you a warm wave.

Here’s a revised version with smoother transitions and more natural dialogue flow:

“Well, well,” Bucky’s voice cut through the noise as you and Natasha finally reached him and Steve. He leaned casually against the wall, a lopsided grin on his face. “Look who decided to show up.”

Steve chuckled, raising his cup in a mock toast. “Didn’t think we’d see you tonight. Thought you had some big paper to write?”

“I did,” you replied, crossing your arms with a smirk. “But Natasha here wouldn’t take no for an answer. Said it was a life-or-death situation.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Natasha, relentless? Shocking.”

“She’s practically a force of nature,” you said, glancing around. “So, drinks?”

Steve drained the last of his beer and set his cup down with a satisfied sigh. “You two go ahead. I’m gonna head over to the keg and see if I can beat my personal record tonight.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Best of luck, Stevie.”

Steve winked as he stepped away. “Now that you’re here, I don’t need it.”

As he disappeared into the crowd, you and Bucky stood there in a comfortable silence for a moment, the bass of the music thumping around you. Then, Bucky gave you one of his signature half-smiles, the kind that always made your heart skip a beat. “Come on,” he said, reaching for your hand and pulling you toward the drink table.

His touch was brief but enough to send a spark up your arm. You followed without protest, a small smile tugging at your lips. When you reached the table, he handed you a drink, his fingers brushing against yours—a fleeting, seemingly innocent moment that left your cheeks warm.

“Thanks,” you murmured, avoiding his gaze as you lifted the cup to your lips.

Bucky leaned in slightly, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and for a second, you forgot how to breathe. But before you could think of a response, Natasha appeared from behind you, clapping her hands together, cutting through the moment.

“Alright, people,” she announced, her tone playful. “What’s the plan? Beer pong? Dancing? Or do we just stand here and look devastatingly cool?”

Bucky smirked, his eyes still on you. “I think we’ve already nailed the last one.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “How about we find Steve before he gets himself into trouble?”

Bucky raised his cup in agreement. “Solid plan.”

With that, the three of you moved back into the crowd, weaving through the crush of people and the haze of music. Even as the party buzzed around you, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Bucky’s lingering gaze—or the way your locket, pressed against your chest, seemed to grow heavier with every step.

"There he is!" Natasha beamed, stopping "Buck you go watch him, me and my girl are gonna dance for a bit!" Before either of you could respond, Natasha was already pulling you away, you turned around glancing over your shoulder briefly to see Bucky's blue eyes smiling at you as he gave you a single wave.

The music thumped loudly in your ears, the bass vibrating through the floor as you swayed with Natasha in the middle of the crowded living room. The alcohol buzzed warmly in your veins, and for a moment, you let yourself forget about everything—about the paper, about the tension that always seemed to linger whenever Bucky was around.

You and Nat were giggling, holding onto each other as you moved to the beat. It was freeing, exhilarating even, until your gaze drifted across the room and landed on him.

Bucky was leaning casually against the wall, his signature smirk firmly in place as he talked to a blonde. She was laughing at something he said, her hand lightly resting on his arm. They were close—too close. Her hair glinted under the dim party lights, and the way she leaned in, hanging on his every word, made your stomach drop.

Your world stopped for a second. The music faded into the background, replaced by the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. You blinked, trying to shake it off, telling yourself it didn’t matter, but the familiar ache settled in your chest anyway.

You tore your eyes away, grabbing your red solo cup and downing the rest of its contents in one go. The burn of the cheap liquor didn’t help, but it gave you something to focus on. You crushed the cup in your hand and let it drop to the floor, the plastic crumpling beneath your heel as you forced yourself to keep dancing.

“Fuck it,” you muttered under your breath, plastering a fake smile on your face.

Natasha laughed beside you, her movements loose and carefree. She slurred slightly, her words barely audible over the music. “Hey! You… you took your necklace off!”

You frowned, reaching up to touch your neck instinctively. “No, I didn’t.”

“Then where is it?” she asked, her brow furrowing as she swayed in place.

Your hand moved frantically over your collarbone, panic setting in as your fingers found only bare skin. Your locket was gone. “Shit,” you whispered, your eyes wide as you started scanning the floor beneath your feet. “Nat, it’s gone!”

Her hands immediately went to your shoulders, steadying you. “Don’t panic,” she said, her voice slurring but her tone trying to stay calm. “It… it can’t be far.”

But it was too late. The panic clawed its way up your throat, and tears prickled at the corners of your eyes. The music was too loud, the crowd too thick. You dropped to your knees, your hands scrambling over the sticky floor as you searched desperately for the locket.

“Excuse me! Sorry!” you mumbled, trying to push past people, but it was no use. The sea of feet around you made it impossible to see anything.

You backed up, bumping into someone behind you. A pair of hands immediately settled on your waist, steadying you. “Hey, you okay?” the guy asked, but you shoved him off without even looking, your vision blurring with tears.

Natasha was back at your side in an instant, her hands on your shoulders again, her mouth moving, but you couldn’t hear her. The world felt like it was spinning too fast, and all you could think about was the locket—your family heirloom. The one your mother had given you before she passed away. The one that had been passed down for generations. And now it was gone, lost in the chaos of some stupid party.

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you stumbled backward, your breathing coming in short, panicked gasps. You didn’t even realize someone was pulling you out of the house until the cool night air hit your skin.

“Hey, hey,” that same guy's voice said, low and urgent. You blinked through the haze of your tears, and your heart twisted painfully when you saw who it was.

Bucky.

He had his hands on your arms, guiding you away from the crowd, his eyes filled with concern. “Come on, you’re okay,” he murmured, leading you to a quieter spot on the porch. “Breathe, alright? Just breathe.”

You tried to speak, but the words got caught in your throat. Your chest heaved as you struggled to catch your breath, your vision still blurry from the tears.

“Look at me,” Bucky said softly, tilting your chin up so your eyes met his. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

His words, his presence, grounded you just enough to pull in a shaky breath. “It’s gone, Buck,” you finally managed, your voice breaking. “The locket… my mom’s locket. It’s gone.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched, his eyes darkening as he glanced back toward the house. “Okay,” he said, his voice calm but determined. “We’re gonna find it.”

You shook your head, fresh tears spilling over. “There’s too many people. It’s probably already stepped on or—or lost for good.”

“Hey,” Bucky said firmly, his hands tightening slightly on your arms. “We’ll find it. I promise.”

You stared at him, searching his face for any sign of doubt, but all you saw was unwavering determination. His eyes softened, and he gently wiped a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

“Wait here,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I’m going back in.”

“No, Buck—”

“I’ll find it,” he interrupted, giving you a small, reassuring smile. “Just stay here.”

Before you could protest, he turned and disappeared back into the house, leaving you alone on the porch, the night air chilling your skin. You sank onto the steps, your hands trembling as you clutched at your knees, praying silently that he was right.

The minutes felt like hours as you sat on the porch, arms wrapped tightly around yourself. Every time the door opened, you looked up, hoping to see Bucky stepping out with your locket in hand. But each time, it was just another person stumbling out into the night, oblivious to your panic.

Finally, the door opened again, and Bucky emerged. His expression was serious, his steps purposeful, but his hands were empty.

Your heart sank, the last bit of hope slipping away. He walked over and crouched in front of you, his eyes meeting yours with a steady calm.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice firm but laced with regret. “I checked everywhere I could. Asked everyone. It’s just… not there.”

You nodded slowly, your throat tightening as you tried to process his words. The locket—your mother’s locket—was gone. A family heirloom, passed down through generations, lost in the chaos of a party. You tried to speak, but all that came out was a shaky breath.

“It’s gone,” you finally whispered, the words feeling heavy and final.

Bucky’s hand rested lightly on your knee, grounding you. “I know how much it meant to you,” he said, his voice steady. “And I’m sorry we couldn’t find it tonight. But we’ll figure something out. I’m not giving up.”

You shook your head, blinking back the tears that blurred your vision. “It was the only thing I had left of her,” you said, your voice breaking. “And now it’s just… gone.”

Bucky’s fingers gently squeezed your knee. “I get it,” he said quietly. “It’s not just a thing. It’s her.”

You nodded, wiping at your cheeks, but the tears kept coming. “It feels like I let her down,” you whispered, your hands trembling in your lap. “I should’ve been more careful.”

Bucky shifted, sitting beside you on the step. His shoulder brushed yours, and he looked out at the street, his voice calm and certain. “Hey, your okay, its gonna be okay”

You let out a shaky breath, trying to absorb his words. “How can you say that? Its gone,” .

“I know,” he said, his tone understanding. “But your mom wouldn’t want you to carry that weight. That locket—it was important, sure, but it doesn’t change the connection you had with her. You’ve got all those memories, all those stories. She’s still with you.”

His words settled over you, comforting in a way you hadn’t expected. You leaned into his shoulder, letting out a quiet sigh. “Thanks, Bucky,” you said softly, your voice still thick with emotion. “For always being there.”

His arm came around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “Always,” he said simply.

For a while, you just sat there, the distant hum of the party fading into the background. The ache of losing the locket still lingered, but Bucky’s steady presence eased it, bit by bit. He didn’t try to fix everything, didn’t offer hollow reassurances. He just stayed—solid, dependable, exactly what you needed.

You broke the silence, your voice soft and hesitant. “What about that girl…?”

Bucky didn’t let you finish. “Forget about her,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I have my best girl right here” his eyes met yours, and for a moment, there was something unspoken between you, something heavy and meaningful.

Eventually, you sat up, brushing the last of the tears from your cheeks. You gave him a small, wry smile. “Guess I owe you one,” you said quietly.

Bucky chuckled, the sound low and warm. “You don’t owe me anything,” he replied. Then, with a playful glint in his eye, he added, “Except maybe a rematch at beer pong.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound a little shaky but genuine. “Deal,” you said, the weight on your chest feeling just a little lighter.

Now

Sam takes a deep breath as he reaches the door to your shared apartment, bracing himself. He isn’t entirely sure what he’s walking into, but he knows Bucky isn’t handling things well. He knocks firmly and waits, listening for any movement inside.

After a long pause, the door creaks open. Bucky stands there, looking like absolute hell. His hair’s a mess, his eyes bloodshot, and he’s still in yesterday’s clothes, rumpled and wrinkled.

“Sam?” Bucky’s voice is hoarse, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“Yeah, man,” Sam says, leaning against the doorframe. “I came to check on you. Can I come in?”

Bucky steps aside, muttering, “Yeah… sure. Guess you uh probably know everything already.”

Sam walks in, his eyes immediately catching the shattered lamp on the floor, pieces scattered across the living room. “I know her side, but there's two sides to every coin” The air feels heavy, tense. He turns to Bucky, his voice steady. “She’s at Steve and my place. She’s safe if you're wondering.”

Bucky winces, looking away as his shoulders slump. “Good… that’s good.” He lets out a bitter chuckle, running a hand over his face. “Guess you’re here to tell me what a screw-up I am, huh?”

Sam shakes his head, exasperated. “Bucky, I’m not here to kick you when you’re down. I’m here because we’re friends. And friends don’t abandon each other, even when one of them is making dumbass choices.”

Bucky scoffs, dropping onto the couch, burying his face in his hands. “Yeah, well… I deserve it.”

Sam takes the chair across from him, studying Bucky’s hunched figure. “You look like hell, man. Want to tell me what happened, your version?”

Bucky hesitates, his voice low and broken. “I don’t know. She was just standing there, looking at me like… like she was just disgusted at being in my presence ...and it hurt, i said sorry for the bar comment, but then we started to hash things out, I got so damn scared. So I did the only thing I know how to do—I pushed her away. Told her to leave.”

Sam raises an eyebrow, his tone sharp. “So you let her walk out? Alone? At night?”

Bucky’s face twists with guilt, and he nods. “Yeah, I know, i went after her but she was gone, that's no excuse i know, i put her in danger Sam, i can't believe it….And now she probably hates me.” He chuckles bitterly. “Hell, maybe she should, i do.”

“Don’t give me that self-pity crap,” Sam snaps. “She’s hurt, sure. But you know damn well she doesn’t hate you.”

Bucky exhales shakily. “Maybe she should. All I ever do is screw things up. I push her away because… because I’m too scared to admit how I feel. And now? I don’t even know if I can fix it.”

Sam leans forward, his voice firm. “You’ve got two choices, Buck. Sit here and wallow, or get off your ass and do something about it.”

Bucky finally meets his gaze, his voice barely a whisper. “What do I even say?”

Sam nods toward the shattered lamp. “Start by picking up the pieces. Then tell her the truth.”

Bucky swallows hard. “What if… what if it’s too late?”

Sam’s voice softens. “That’s a chance you’ll have to take, you cant just throw away the friendship you two have, i dont even know my friends from kindergarten, i couldnt tell you the slightest thing about em now….but you’ll never know unless you try.”

Bucky hesitates, then leans back, his gaze distant. “I’ve tried, Sam. More times than I can count.”

Sam frowns. “What are you talking about?”

Bucky’s voice grows quieter, tinged with frustration. “I’ve been trying to tell her for years—little things here and there. Dropping hints, pushing the boundaries, trying to get her to see me the way I see her. But every damn time, she pulls back, like she’s scared of what’s on the other side of those walls she’s built.”

Sam watches him, his expression thoughtful. “And you think she doesn’t feel the same?”

Bucky lets out a hollow laugh. “I don’t know. Maybe she does, maybe she doesn’t. But how the hell am I supposed to keep putting myself out there when she won’t meet me halfway? Why does it always have to be me to make the first move? Why can’t she give me a sign? Something, anything that lets me know I’m not imagining this?” Bucky’s voice cracks, and he rakes a hand through his hair, his frustration spilling out. “It’s like every time I try to get closer, she pulls back. And then I’m stuck wondering if I’m just some idiot chasing after something that was never there.”

Sam leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You’re scared, she’s scared—it’s a mess, man. But sitting here, letting the fear eat away at you, isn’t gonna solve anything. You want her to meet you halfway? Maybe she’s been waiting for you to show her it’s safe to.”

Bucky shakes his head, his jaw tightening. “I’ve shown her, Sam. Hell, I’ve been there for her through everything. I’ve tried to coax her out of those walls, but every time I think I’m making progress, she shuts me down. And now? Now she’s out there, going on dates with other guys. What am I supposed to think?”

Sam tilts his head, his gaze steady. “You ever think maybe she’s just as scared as you are? That she’s waiting for you to stop hinting and just say it outright?”

Bucky’s fists clench, his frustration boiling over. “Why does it have to be me? Why can’t she take the damn risk for once? I’m not the only one in this.”

Sam exhales, leaning back. “You’re right, it’s a two-way street. But you’ve got to ask yourself—if she’s scared, just like you, who’s gonna be brave enough to break the cycle?”

Bucky stands, pacing the room. His voice drops, low and pained. “What if I put everything out there, and she doesn’t feel the same? I don’t think I could handle that.”

Sam’s gaze follows him, his tone firm but empathetic. “Or what if she’s been feeling the same this whole time, but she’s been too scared to lose you? What if she’s been waiting for you to say what she can’t?”

Bucky stops, his hands on his hips, his head bowed. “I can’t lose her, Sam. Not as a friend, not as… whatever this is. She’s everything. And if I’m wrong—if I tell her how I feel and she walks away—I don’t know what I’ll do.”

Sam stands, crossing the room to face Bucky. “Buck, you’re already losing her by doing nothing. This limbo you’re both stuck in? It’s tearing you apart. You’ve got to take the leap, man. Because if you don’t, you’ll never forgive yourself.”

Bucky swallows hard, his eyes clouded with doubt. “And if I crash and burn?”

Sam gives him a small, encouraging smile. “Then you’ll get back up. And you’ll know you tried. But if you don’t take that chance, you’ll always wonder what could’ve been.”

Bucky lets out a shaky breath, his hands still clenched at his sides. “I’ve never been good at this—at saying what I feel. And now, with everything so screwed up…”

“Then stop overthinking it,” Sam says. “Tell her the truth. Not hints, not half-measures. The whole thing.”

Bucky looks at him, his expression caught between fear and hope. “What if she’s already made up her mind? What if she’s moving on?”

Sam shakes his head. “You don’t know that. And you won’t unless you ask. But hiding behind ‘what ifs’ isn’t gonna get you anywhere.”

Bucky stares at the shattered lamp, his mind racing. Finally, he lets out a deep sigh, his shoulders slumping. “Alright,” he says quietly. “I’ll talk to her. But if this blows up in my face, you’re buying me drinks for the next decade.”

Sam smirks, clapping him on the shoulder. “Deal. Now get yourself together, man. You’ve got work to do.”

Bucky nods, though the weight of what lies ahead presses heavily on him. As Sam heads for the door, he glances back. “Just remember, Buck—she’s not the only one with walls. You’ve got a few of your own.”

Wanda clapped her hands together, her tone light. “Okay, enough brooding. How about some brunch? I’m starving.”

Natasha perked up at that, crossing her arms. “I could go for some pancakes. What about the farmers market?”

You sighed, your head falling back against the couch. “I’m down for food, but we can’t go to the farmers market.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, her tone edging toward irritation. “Why not?”

“Because we can’t go there without Bucky,” you said simply, your voice flat but firm.

Natasha groaned, throwing her hands up. “God, why does everything have to come back to Bucky? He’s not exactly the Farmers Market King. We can survive one trip without him.”

You sat up, your eyes flashing. “Stop it, Nat. Just stop. Look, we’ve all messed up before. Bucky’s not some random guy who screwed up—he’s Bucky, its him. He’s been there for me through everything. We can’t just hate on him because we got in a fight.”

Natasha scoffed, her voice sharp. “I can hate on him just fine. He’s an asshole, and I’m tired of watching him drag you through this endless cycle of misery.”

Your hands clenched at your sides as you stood up, your voice snapping like a whip. “And I’m tired of you acting like it’s so black and white! He’s not perfect, but none of us are. You think I haven’t made mistakes? You think I haven’t hurt him too?”

Natasha stepped closer, her eyes narrowing. “You’re always defending him! No matter what he does, you jump in to shield him, like he’s some wounded puppy. When are you gonna wake up and realize he’s not worth it?”

“He’s not worth it?” you said, your voice trembling with anger. “You don’t get it, Nat. He’s not just some guy who broke my heart. He’s my best friend! You don’t throw someone like that away because they messed up once, or twice, or even a hundred times. He’s Bucky, for god’s sake!”

The room went silent, the weight of your words hanging between you. Natasha stared at you, her jaw tightening before she shook her head, letting out a bitter laugh. “Fine,” she said coldly. “Do whatever you want. But don’t come crying to me when he breaks your heart again.”

With that, you turned on your heel and stormed off into Steve’s room. Natasha grabbed her bag as she headed for the door. Before she left, she glanced at Wanda and Steve, her voice sharp. “All I do is try to help, but if she wants to keep sticking up for his dumb ass, that’s on her, leave me out of it next time.”

The door slammed behind her, leaving an uncomfortable silence in her wake.

Wanda and Steve exchanged glances, both looking a little shell-shocked. Finally, Wanda sighed, brushing her hair back. “I’ll go after Nat,” she said quietly. She turned to Steve, her brow raised. “You got her?”

Steve nodded, giving Wanda a small, reassuring smile. “Yeah, I’ve got her.”

Once Wanda left, Steve turned to. Steve hesitated for a moment before following. He knocked gently on the door. “Hey… you okay?”

There was no answer at first, just the sound of you pacing. Finally, your voice came through, quieter but still tense. “I’m fine, Steve. Just… need a minute.”

Steve leaned against the doorframe, his voice soft. “Take all the time you need. I’m here, I’ll always be right here…”

[mosneakers]

Alex: [Smiles warmly] Hi Coraleye…

Coraleye: [Smiles back] Hi Alex…

Alex: Ready for one last take before we officially call it a wrap?

Coraleye: I guess so! Alex: So how’s life treating you now? You adjusting okay?

Coraleye: Oh… well it's been a whirlwind, to say the least, heh. But I’m finding my footing again. Finally finishing up school. Just barely keeping my head above water some days, but yeah, I’m getting by. Trying to find my new normal.

Alex: [Nods thoughtfully] I want to talk about that a little bit. You’ve had to deal with the aftermath of everything that happened on election night. Do you remember when Cam and I came out to visit you in Brindleton Bay?

Coraleye: Mhm. I sure do. You interviewed some girls I went to school with.

Alex: So, Mackenzie, Briella, Logan… I’m not sure how much you’re aware of, especially with how quickly the media coverage was shut down after election night. But I’ve gotta ask—have you reached out to Coraleye at all since then? Offered any kind of support?

Logan: [Quickly glances at Mackenzie] I’m not sure if we got the chance to reach out yet, have we? Mackenzie:[Feigning innocence] She hasn't filled us in completely, but we’ve heard bits and pieces... Briella: We heard about her and her boyfriend. They broke up, right? [Big grin] Life has a cruel way of teaching us lessons!

Mackenzie presses her lips together, appearing to hold back a laugh, but finally cracks as a sharp cackle spills out.

Mackenzie: Oh my mod, Briella, stop! You can't say that! I just love you. So sorry about her, she's so crazy. Anyways, yeah. We wish her the best. I hope it all works out for her, I really do.

Cam: Well, I think that will probably do it for now, thank you ladies. Alex: Cam's right, thank you for your time. We'll be in touch. Have a happy Harvestfest.

Several weeks later, Britechester-

Alex: Cam and I try not to get too involved with work matters, but I'll be honest, that interview was upsetting. I wonder if they'd still be snickering if they saw what you've been through in these past few months.

Coraleye: Nah, they're the least of my worries. Pretty sure I got the last laugh when it comes to them. [Mischievous grin]

Alex: I'm in awe of your optimism, Coraleye. After all this, you’re really not bitter? I mean, look at Tycho—he lied, tried to erase your memories. And you still take the high road?

Coraleye: Oh no, please don’t get me wrong, Alex! I definitely went through—and sometimes still go through—my naughty phase, from time to time. Alex: [Leans in] You have my attention... Coraleye: Maybe it was for revenge, or a way to cope, or maybe deep down I was just really lonely and had a void to fill. Either way, it got me through some dark times. Perhaps you should book a follow-up interview with Briella, ask her if she found my panties in her boyfriend's room yet. [Waves at camera, winks, and mouths, ‘Hey, Pierce!’] Alex shakes his head amusedly and softly chuckles.

Alex: Damn! You really don't mess around. I'm guessing this doubles as punishment for Tycho as well?

Coraleye: Nope. Actually, his punishment is even better. I'm giving him exactly what he wants. After this documentary is over with, I'm erasing all of our shared memories together. He wanted to mess with my mind so badly, I'll do it for him. Alex: And how do you do that?

Coraleye: Through a spell, of course. You didn't forget that I'm a spellcaster, did you? I'll put the memories in an amulet and give it to our sage of untamed magic. They'll perform a ritual to destroy the memories. Alex: Wow. Remind me to never break your heart... Coraleye: [Smiles] Oh, I will. Alex: [Sighs] Well... Last question we're asking everyone else: Is there any question that you have, after all of this, that still haunts you?

Coraleye: [Tilts head, as she pauses to think] Hmm… I’ve still got to write that paper on my ten-year plan, and somehow I feel even more lost than before. I guess it’s time to start figuring that out now.

[the-froschamethyst4]

Time Of Death: Dawn

���Pairing: Vampire! Alex x Werewolf! F! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: Smut, fluff, language, fake marriage, kissing/making out, eating out, P in V, enemies to lovers, Victorian Era, sexism,

𖤐Summary: Vampire Alex Keller and his so-called wife Y/n L/n-Keller had to be perfect but they're not. Alex is the future of Vampires and Y/n was the future for her wolf kind, but this so-called marriage was to keep the peace between both worlds of Vampires and Werewolves.

————

————

The sun peaked through the curtains leaking into the bedroom shared between Alex and his wife Y/n. Y/n every night when going to bed would open the curtains just slightly for the sun to come in to let the sun try to burn Alex.

But before the sun could reach him. Alex would use his powers to shut them.

"Asshole," Y/n says, whipping her head around to look at her husband who was just bring his hand down.

"Coming from the woman who tries to kill me every morning."

"Not like you do the same," she says, kicking the covers off her body and grabs a shirt off the floor and puts it on. Y/n slept naked because she gets hot at night, while Alex sleeps pajama pants and a shirt.

The two had a agreement to do a fake wedding, mainly to keep the peace between Vampires and Werewolves, they were both the future them all, Alex going to be King of Vampires and Y/n going to be an Alpha. But they could not stand one another.

In public people saw them as two lovely couple who didn't let their differences stop them, but behind close doors, they hated one another, trying to kill one another.

Why kill each other, because when one dies the other gets their fortune.

Y/n stood on the balcony looking down at the people, Alex hissed when seeing the light seep in just a little bit.

"Close the door, you damn woman."

"Make me," she says, not even looking at him instead at the boy passing flowers out to couples on the street. She leans on her hand as she watches him pass them out, she loved seeing him, he was always so kind, gentle, and soft spoken, something about him that Alex wasn't.

"Him again?" Alex came out with his cloak over his head. "You know damn well if they see an affair going around-"

"They'll hang me, I know, drive a sliver nail through my heart, I get it, I can still dream, can't I?"

"No, you cannot, you are married to me-"

"Fake married, mind you," she says. She walks away from him. "I'm going to the market...care to come?" She felt like she was going to regret that answer.

"I would," he says with a smirk.

They both get ready dressed in their usual attire to match everyone else. They walked arms linked trying to look like a 'normal' couple. Y/n carried a small lace parasol over her shoulder, and Alex made sure his top hat covered his face.

"You could have stayed home," Y/n mumbles.

"And what let you have your way with the flower boy?"

"I would never, who do you think I am?" She teased.

"You are a woman, that I don't trust," his hand gripped her wrist.

"Mr. and Mrs. Keller what a lovely surprise," they stopped and looked at the person coming towards them.

"Mr. Wilson, how long has it been?" Alex jokes.

"Only a few days," Mr. Wilson laughs with Alex. Mr. Wilson didn't really like Y/n, refuse to speak to her, acknowledge her, or even look at her to even ask how she was doing. He acknowledged Alex like they've been best friends for years.

They haven't. Alex just can't stand the man, but doesn't know how to to tell Mr. Wilson to leave them alone.

"I'll be at the bread vendor," Y/n says, looking up at Alex dismissing herself from the men's conversation.

"Didn't think she'd ever leave," Mr. Wilson says, hiking up his pants.

"Easy there, Mr. Wilson. That's my wife remember that," Alex warns.

"Ah yes I know, but I wanted to talk to you. I'm opening up a brothel and I was wondering if you'd like to come, drink, hang out, get the good ol' whistle wet. I know you and that...whore probably don't do it often, I mean if she was my wife, I'd never be home, I'd be out," he chuckles, but Alex didn't, Alex wanted to get away from this creep.

"Haha," Alex sarcastically laughs. "With respect, my wife and I do quite often, and I would like it if you don't EVER call my dick a whistle ever again-also...do leave my wife and I alone," Alex walks away from the fat man.

He sees Y/n looking at the bread and paying the vendor some money for the loaf she picked up, she turns to see Alex waiting for her, she walks to him looking down and linked her arm with his.

"I heard everything you know."

"I figured, you and those ears," he says, he moves a piece of her hair behind her ears. She slightly winched and pushed his hand away. Almost letting him know 'don't touch me.'

"You could've gone-"

"What did I say about them catching us have an affair?"

"Only me, they don't care what you do, you're a man, I'm a woman, people care more what I do versus you."

"Yeah but if they find out what we are, they'll kill both of us no matter what," he says.

"I need some fruit, I'll be back," she says, walking away. Alex stood back letting her shop, but he went to the boy passing out flowers.

"Good day, sir, care for some flowers?"

"Do you have orchids?" Alex asks.

"Orchids?" He looks around. "Ah! I do, my last one," he says, handing them to Alex.

"How much?"

"5 pens," Alex gave the boy the money and heads back to find Y/n she was also paying, once she turned to see Alex with the flowers in his hands.

"Orchids?" She smiles, while taking them from him and smelling them, Alex took the basket she carried and let her carry the flowers, showing them off to the other women.

"Your favorite," he says.

"Thanks...but why?"

"You seem down today...I don't know why, but...I want you to be happy today," he says.

"What's the catch?"

"No catch," he says. "Just you."

"What's your game, Alex Keller?" She warns taking her arm out of his.

"No game..." She still looked at him confused. "You just haven't received flowers from me in such a long time, so I figured I'd give you some," he says.

She stares at the flowers and hides her smile from Alex, they walked back to their shared mansion, she walks to the kitchen and pulled out a vase, filling it with water and sticking the orchids into the water.

She then places the vase into the window above the sink, that's where the most sunlight comes from, so it only fitted to place it there.

She walks up to her bedroom where she saw Alex remove his clothes. He sits on his side of the bed and looks at the sun peeking through the curtains. He then feels eyes on him and looks at Y/n who was removing her dress.

"I need a bath..." she stops in front of the bathroom door. "...C-Care to join?" She asks, looking at him over her shoulder.

"You want me to join you in the bath?" He asks.

"Sure-but you don't have to-"

"I'll join," he says.

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

Alex had watched Y/n as she washed her body, he watched as her skin had water dripping off her body. She looks like a Goddess. Alex looks at her bare back as she stood up, some scars on her back some freckles here and there, he stood up behind her moving behind her and kissing her neck.

"Alex!" She squeals. She tries to push off him but his arms wrapped around her waist to hold her against his body. "Hey, s-stop," she says.

"Y/n...please," he stops and looks up at her, his face was a bit red and he was slightly giving her a pouty face.

She turns to him and kisses his forehead, Alex stood up while also picking her up, her legs wrap around his waist, while she still placed kisses on his forehead and then his lips. Alex steps out of the bath and sets her on the counter and kissed her neck and then her chest.

Y/n let's out a soft moan, as Alex's kisses started to trail down, going from her chest down to her stomach and then just above her pelvis. He slightly pushes her legs open getting a small glimpse of her wet pussy.

He smirks while he was on his knees kissing her inner thighs. It was a while since her and Alex have done it, Alex would be busy and Y/n would be out or handling business within her community. This is the only time were they both can be with each other.

"Take it slow." She says.

"Of course," he says, licking his lips and kissing her wet clit, his tongue going between her wet folds, the sound of sucking and wet noises filled the bathroom.

He started eating her like she was his last meal, Y/n then squeezed her thighs around his head, he groans as he loved the feeling of her plush thighs around his head. He looks up at her seeing her leaning back on her elbows.

"F-Fuck," she moans, her hand going to his hair, slightly pulling and pushing him to make his tongue go deeper inside of her.

"You taste so sweet," he mumbles against her folds. Alex then stood up between her legs, aligning himself up at her entrance. "I'll be gentle," he says, close to her ear and kissing her shell of her ear.

Alex starts moving slowly, slowly grinding as well, her legs were resting on his waist, and her palms resting on the sink counter, her head back as she looks down at her stomach slightly bulging because of his dick.

"Fuck, Alex," she looks up at him, her arms going around his neck and kissed his lips, he starts moving a bit fast.

Alex smirks into the kiss, he picks her up and moves out of the bathroom, he placed her on the edge of the bed, her legs up and rested on both of his shoulders, he starts going a bit fast, balls slapping on her ass.

Her hands go from gripping the sheets to resting on his lower stomach, touching his toned chest and stomach feeling the ripples of his 6-pack under her fingers and palms.

"Ah!" She moans when feeling herself about to cum, she looks up at Alex almost telling him she was close. Alex smirks and chuckles at her.

"Come on, wolfie."

"D-Don't call me t-that," she says with a bit of a growl.

""Awww~ don't like my teasing?" He says, bending down close to her head.

"Don't you k-know not to tease a-a dog?"

"A dog?"

"Shut it," she says as he chuckles at her again.

Y/n puts her head back as Alex gave her one last thrust before she ends up coming on his dick. He pulls out and watched as cum leak from her lower half, he chuckles and bends down to use his fingers to kind of shove it back into her.

"AH Alex! W-What are you d-doing?" She asks.

"I don't want anything spilling from you," he says, now just placing his fingers inside of her.

She looked embarrassed, grabbing a pillow and hiding her red face behind it. Alex smirks and loved seeing her embarrassed.

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

Alex sat on his bed, Y/n was next to him asleep, he looks down at her sleeping naked figure, her face buried into her pillow and the blanket just resting on her waist. Alex stood up and walks to the window making sure they were shut. He heads back and pulls Y/n close to his chest, he kissed her forehead and rubbed her waist.

"Alex?"

"Hm?"

"...When we both become King of Vampires and Alpha of Werewolves...will we have to leave each other?"

"I don't know, baby," he says.

"I don't want to leave," she says.

"I know...I-I don't either," Alex said, holding her close, kissing her forehead, and then kissing her lips.

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

The next morning Y/n woke up first, the room showed no signs of light in the bedroom to hurt Alex, she looks down at Alex, touching his chest and moving her hand down to his stomach, her hand then slowly moves down to the blanket.

"Hey now...what do you think you're doing?" He says.

"Oh nothing," she says with a giggle, she leans down and kissed his lips. The kiss soon became something heavy, his tongue slipped into her mouth, she moans when she was pushed onto her back, her arms wrapped around his neck and his hands touched her soft thighs.

"Fuck, your lips...they taste so...so good, did you put something on?" He asks.

"I put some ChapStick on before I went to bed," she says.

"Taste good," Alex says, hiking her up to sit on his lap. Their bare bodies against each other, Alex was always so cold and Y/n was also so hot but with them two against each other it was a perfect warmth.

"I love your body," he says.

"Perv-"

"For what?" He chuckles. "I'm allowed to say I love your body."

"Shut up," she snuggles closer to his body and they both landed on their shared bed.

They are suppose to hate each other, why are they acting like this? Are they finally loving each other like a husband and wife are suppose to? Y/n looks up at Alex and pushed him on his back.

"What are you doing?" He asked as his hands rested on her ass now.

"Nothing just looking at my husband."

"Husband huh? When's the last time you've ever called me that?"

"Now," she says.

"You're being a tease."

"And you aren't?"

"When did I tease you?"

"Literally last night," she says, crossing her arms.

"Guess wife's are always right." She just chuckles at him and kissed his lips.

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.189 Correction

When story time ended, Sophia took Desi to the bathroom and washed away the mess. With a few moments to myself, I went to the real estate website to see our house again and choose which side we'll call home. Both houses have an identical layout, so it really boiled down to which furniture we liked more. The gray house had a more sophisticated vibe, while the blue house was more relaxed and comfortable. Choosing was a lot harder than I imagined because they both were nice, and I couldn't go wrong with either. Ultimately, however, I chose the gray one. I figured since I'm taking on all the risk, it's only right we live in the fancier one. Just as I picked up the phone to call Less and tell her we have a house, someone knocked at the front door. It was Dub! I let him in and told him I was just thinking of him yesterday. Usually he'd take the opportunity to joke about how he has that effect on sims, but he just kinda snorted and said it was funny in the driest of tones. There was nothing funny about that half-hearted laugh and him standing in the foyer staring into the corner. Something was wrong.

"Earth to Dubstep. You coming in or you gonna stand in the foyer all night?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm good."

He definitely was not good because he didn't even flinch at the mention of the nickname he hates so much. Whatever's got him in a funk is probably why he's here. He always comes to me when he's in crisis. Well, when he perceives he's in crisis, rather. I love the guy, but he's a little high-strung sometimes. I'm glad he has sims in his life like Maia and me who are much calmer and more level-headed to keep him straight.

I didn't want to just dive in and spook him, though, so I started with a little small talk.

"Happy belated," I said.

"Thanks, man," he replied with a tiny grin.

"How did Tami like sharing her day with you?"

He let out a very long sigh, and I knew I had stepped unintentionally right into the middle of what I tried to dance around. I guess we're going all the way in.

"She didn't."

"Oh."

"How do you-" He stopped himself and turned away from me. "Nevermind. You wouldn't understand."

"Understand what?"

He swatted at me, trying to sweep the conversation back under the rug.

"Nothing. You have the perfect child and all this wisdom. You don't understand what it's like for the rest of us."

Was he mocking me? I've had it up to here with everyone assuming I live this perfect life and have all the answers. I'm one of the most down-to-earth sims I know, yet somehow I still end up being out of touch with everyone. Am I too confident? Too strong? I know I've carried things I shouldn't have in the past, and I need to be more open, but how does that equate to me having it all together? I know Dub is upset about something and isn't thinking straight, so I'm gonna try to let it go this time, but not before I give him a little dose of truth because, upset or not, this fairytale everyone thinks I live in ends today.

"Do you really believe that?" I asked.

He shrugged.

"Maybe. I don't know. But I'm sure you're gonna tell me how I'm wrong, so..."

"Damn right I am. You don't know my life like you think you do. And you definitely don't know what goes on in my head. 'All this wisdom?' I got it from all the shit and mental gymnastics I've been through. Now, I'll be the first to say my child is the best, but she has her moments too. And I've had my share of parenting and marriage fails, so don't tell me I don't know what it's like."

He sat silently for a few moments, taking in my reprove. Part of me thinks all he needed was to hear me say he's not alone, but another part thinks he still needs advice on something, so I got down to business.

"What happened, Dub? I don't like seeing you like this."

"I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that."

"Don't worry about it. What's going on?"

"You ever wonder if you're ruining Desi?"

His question caught me off guard, and I laughed. He has no idea how obvious that answer should be.

"Only all the time," I said.

His eyes lit up.

"Really?"

"Of course. Did Tami come with a manual? Because we sure didn't get one. I don't know what I'm doing half the time, man, so yeah...I wonder. Like, her birthday is in two days, but I'm still carrying her around like an infant. She enjoys it, so it's cool, but is it hurting her? Will she want to be up under us all the time when she's older? Am I keeping her from becoming independent? I question every move I make with her, even if it's not necessarily bad."

"I feel that." He sat there, nodding over and over as if to drum up the courage to make his next statement. "Tami has been doing and saying some mean things lately, but I just let it happen because of my own feelings about the sims she's doing it to."

"How do you mean?"

"I told you she kicked my former tenants. You know they deserved that. She also bit my father-in-law. I was so proud of her because someone needs to knock him down a few pegs. But she's older now and using words. She cut up this little girl in the park yesterday and told her she wasn't pretty."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. But the other girl started it, so she had it coming too."

"I see what you mean now."

"So, what do you think about it?"

Oof. Why does he always put me in this position? I have a lot of feelings about this, but I'm sure none of them are what he wants to hear. But what kind of friend would I be if I said nothing? I'd feel terrible if Tami grew up to be a monster, knowing I had the opportunity to shed some light early on. It won't be comfortable, but I've got to at least try. Here goes nothing.

"I think ... You're my boy, and I'll always tell you the truth, so ... You're her dad, Dub. You should be the one telling her those things are wrong, not encouraging her bad behavior. I know you think all those folks got what they deserved, which is also problematic, but is that the message you want to send Tami? That she can do and say whatever she wants and get away with it because 'they deserved it?' I'm afraid of the path you're putting her on. What kind of a woman will she become if you let her continue on like this? Do you think of her future?"

"Of course I do! What kind of a-"

He paused, succumbing to the realization I was right, even though I wondered if I had gone too far.

"I'm sorry if I'm out of line," I said. "I wouldn't have said anything if I didn't care."

"No. You're right. You always are. I was just thinking about what my parents will say if they find out how she's been acting. There's no way in hell they would have let me get away with the stuff I let slide."

I can't imagine my parents letting us get away with that either, but I honestly don't know what they would have done. Me and Less never really got into trouble, and my parents were both so lenient. I guess I'll never know. Hopefully, I'll never have to talk to Desi about this.

"I'm glad you always keep it 100 with me," he continued. "That's why I trust you so much. Can't lie, though. That hurt, but I know I needed to hear it. Deep down, I knew, but I never saw it like that. I'll do better, though. Believe that."

"I believe it, man. We don't play about our daughters."

"We absolutely do not!"

Not that I don't love these deep conversations with my best friend, but that one got really heavy, and he clearly has a lot to mull over later, so I pulled out my phone and showed him our new home, hoping a lighter topic would do the trick.

[liu-shubao]

*Meanwhile as she skyrockets in the air, she collided with some power lines in her path. While the shock didn't affect her, it did send her careening downwards into a bundle of trash bags and cans in an alley way that roughly cushioned her fall.

She resurfaced with a sour expression and a loud groan.*

Ughhhhhh damn it...

*She looks at her sword with a displeased expression.*

Why do I even have this stupid thing?

"Shubao?"

*She squeaked in alarm, quickly jumping out of the pile to her feet and looking above her. She then sees a catwalk and Kasha looking down at her with confusion and concern. And she immediately shrunk in embarrassment, after all this was not a flattering way to be seen.*

Oh...hi Kasha :/

"Are you okay?? What happened???"

Oh! This??? Heh nothing much I just kinda...tripped. How uh, how are you doing?

*When she looks back up at Kasha, she pauses as she notices the girl's slightly red eyes.*

H-Hey, are you okay? You look like you've been crying?

*And now it was Kasha's turn to be self conscious as she tried to discreetly rub the tears out of her eyes.*

"O-Oh! N-No I-Well kind of, it's...look it's okay I'm totally fine."

*She tries to give a chipper smile but Shubao is already too concerned, she heads up the nearby metallic stairs to join her.*

Hey you can tell me, it's not like I can judge at all since I was the one literally in the trash just now :/

*Kasha quietly chuckled at her joke before there was a small pause.*

"I uh...I kinda got ghosted on a first date. It's no big deal though, it happens to the best of us I guess."

Oh shit...that's awful I'm so sorry. Whoever that guy is, he's clearly a total dick. Don't worry about him, if he did show he would've just wasted your time.

"Yeah, yeah, you're right. It just hurts your pride a bit especially since...well, everyone seems to be doing better relationship wise than me.

I mean everyone seems to have someone except me! Yunxiang has Junzhu, and you have that Fang girl! I just...wish that could happen to me already."

*She sagged, resting her arms on the railing and leaning forward. Shubao stared at her saddened before looking forward and sighing.*

Actually...I'm single again. Needless to say, Fang and I did NOT work out in the end.

"Wait really? Oh I'm sorry, I had no idea."

It's okay, it ended pretty recently and a bad note so I've been a bit quiet about it. But anyways, don't beat yourself up.

I'm sure you'll find someone great for you, it just takes time and a lot of patience unfortunately.

"Yeah. True. It's just hard to find that one person in a whole sea of millions."

Yeah, not to mention most of said millions seem to be nothing but living garbage -_-

*Kasha chuckled again.*

"Heh yeah, makes you appreciate the good ones even more though."

Yeah...

By the way, how about we have lunch sometime? My treat. You deserve something nice after being ghosted and left with the bill.

*Kasha seems surprised and just a bit flustered, glancing away while brushing a hair behind her ear.*

"O-Oh that's not necessary, I don't want you to pay just because I had a bad date."

No I insist! Come on, let's do something fun to make up for both our troubles, it'll get your mind off those things for a bit. Plus I know a place with really good seafood, I think you'll like it.

"Well..."

*She looks between the ground and Shubao, noticing her bright gaze and happy smile. She gives in and returns the smile.*

"Okay...I'm down, so what time?"

This Friday evening, I'll meet at your place. We can call later and talk about more details.

"Okay! Sounds good!"

Yeah! Great!

*There's another bout of silence as both stand in place shuffling their feet and looking about. Kasha then begins to step away hesitantly.*

"Anyway, I should get going. It was good to see you again, Shubao! Bye!"

Bye Kasha! See you soon! ^^

*She smiles and sighs, watching Kasha get further and further away.*

(( @liuer-sixsense ))

*It's a slow day in Donghai, including in Wukong's race track and home. That is until Shubao's voice is heard inside loudly calling for someone.*

Liu Errrrrrr???

Are you here???????

I kinda need help...like, right now :/

*Strange thing is though looking into the expansive room. There seems to be no one there standing or about or such, as if the room is actually empty.*

[longagoitwastuesday]

Gushing about Gojo and Megumi and how they are or could have been everything to me I forgot to mention that I really really really love Yuuji. Like, a lot

[daz4i]

oh my god earlier this week i was talking to my mom abt how i used to constantly feel bad even at elementary school despite having good grades and not having social issues or mental illnesses yet (undiagnosed autism aside). and she really helped me crack the code by saying "yes you always came home angry about (kid in my class) getting better grades than you in math or (friend) being better than you in english even though you knew she is american" and then it clicked. i was simply always a jealous competitive annoying little bitch who has to be the best and most specialest at everything or i may as well die

[hobisexually]

x

[lilac-melody]

Okay. I can’t believe I’m making another post like this, but I’m going to be very specific here.

Aiyuu shippers who say “if you don’t ship aiyuu, you’re homophobic!” unironically...YOU’RE ANNOYING.

Yuuhiyo/Aihiyo shippers who say “if you don’t ship (yuu/aihiyo), you’re heterophobic!” unironically...YOU’RE ANNOYING.

Liphiyo shippers who say “if you don’t ship liphiyo, you’re biphobic!” unironically...YOU’RE ANNOYING.

Like . holy shit. This fandom is turning into a MASSIVE fucking “he said, she said!” ordeal and it’s putting more bias onto newcomers depending on who they talk to and making the fandom even more divided.

Stop. Everyone participating in that shit is annoying. Everyone is allowed to ship what they want. Stop fucking using that stupid “I’m gonna call you (x)phobic because your opinion is different from mine!” bullshit. 

Okay? Nothing is canon!!!! Aiyuu isn’t canon. Yuuhiyo isn’t canon. Aihiyo isn’t canon. Liphiyo isn’t canon. So there’s no damn reason to be attacking each other. If you hate another ship, just live and let live and stay in your own damn bubble.

You’re allowed to be uncomfortable with a ship. You’re allowed to despise a ship. You’re allowed to be neutral with a ship. You’re allowed to like and even love a ship.

You shouldn’t be attacking anyone, no matter how much you hate their ships or opinions. This fandom is turning into one of those stupid toxic fandoms that does absolutely nothing but argue about ships and it’s getting really old, really fast.

Honeyworks has been my safe space for almost 3 years now, and I don’t want the stress of seeing people who ship what I ship attacking others, or people who ship what I don’t attacking me/other people who ship what I ship.

Enough is enough. If you truly hate someone, just block them. It’s not that hard.

[dirt-str1der]

I literally had a dream about reading the worst fan fiction like fucking ever kiryu was just randomly a yandere and nishiki was trying his best to survive also kiryu turned into a dragon (deez nuts) halfway and let nishiki kill him for being a bad boy but he was so upset about having to kill his bro that he just lay in the corpse for a bit and thats when i decided to stop reading and i literally opened tumblr in my dream to complain about how bad it was like the writing went back and forth from being terrible to incredible and i found myself enjoying some parts and despising others. I skipped the first few chapters so i had to tab back out and read the summary like why are they in a beach resort and the summary didnt just tell me nothing but it was also double spaced between each line and very fucking irritating and while reading it i kept thinking this is extremely ooc and boring like they would not fucking say that

[theflannelwizard]

My dad has this theory about “project-based friends” that I’ve been thinking about lately. A project-based friend is someone you meet through fandom/hobbies, and they’re usually really easy to get super close to while you’re both invested in the project, be it an actual project or the same fandom/fixation or whatever else.

But as soon as one or both of you moves on from the project, you fall out of touch. Because the project-based friend doesn’t really care about you as a person as much as they care about what you bring to the project. Or even if they do care about you, they just don’t know how to keep a friendship up when you don’t have a project together.

This isn’t necessarily a selfish thing, it’s just… the friendship isn’t personal. A project-based friend will have fun with you while it lasts and then either move on entirely or stay kinda half in your life, never really reaching out or holding real conversations. And I think a big part of my problem is that I’ve been expecting project-based friends to stick around for me when really we just liked the same work of fiction for a while. I keep thinking I’ve made a new best friend and then they get into some media I don’t like and the whole friendship kinda disappears.

[inbabylontheywept]

bad dating stories time: the shoe incident

so in highschool, my best friend wasnt allowed to go on dates unless there was another couple there to keep an eye on him. part of this was his parents being insane, but also, part of it was him being insane. in a problem with no reasonable parties, there are no reasonable solutions.

at some point in my junior year, my sorta-gf broke up with me, and i just wasnt feeling dating, which was bad for my friend, because he had a good thing going with a girl he met in court.

he kind of hounded me about it. kept pushing me to just put me feet back in the dating pool and i wasnt real thrilled about it, because i knew he was pushing me for his own benefit, not mine, so i kept telling him to fuck off, and after a few weeks of being told that i would date when i was damn well ready, he eventually said: okay. what if i paid for the date AND found you a blind date AND all you had to do was show up?

and i shouldve said no, i know, but i let him wear me down, and i will own my fault in that. a date starting on such a stupid premise could never have gone well.

but he still managed to find a way to make it worse.

i dont know how long he tried to set a blind date up. it couldve been multiple attempts. he couldve stooped to this immediately. but what happened in the end was that he called a girl from the ward he attended - a girl that he knew had a giant, mushy crush on him - and he said: hey! how would you feel about going on a date this weekend?

(you know, implying it was with him, but never actually saying it.)

and she said YES WOW I WOULD LOVE TO and he said great! and then he called me up and said he found me a date.

i did not learn about his crimes until several weeks later. i will die swearing before god almighty that i would never have allowed this travesty to happen if i had known.

that was on a monday. the date of the date rolled around that friday evening, and im sorry to confess, i really phoned the whole thing in. i showed up in my favorite comfy outfit, which was also a fashion crime: basketball shorts and flipflops and a baja hoodie. it was super comfy but it made me look kind of crazy. i picked him up first, and then i picked up his date next, and then we went to pick up my date, and thats where you're gonna get the play by play.

i arrived, walked across the yard, and knocked on the front door. she opened it almost immediately, like shed been waiting right by it, and i could see her expression go from OMG IM SO EXCITED to super disappointed, then disgusted and finally pissed. and because i didn't know about my friends sins, i thought it was from my outfit. which seemed... harsh. like, hey, im allowed to be quirky, fuck you. also its a blind date, i thought the deal was that we were both going to be sad broken sacks of mortality.

anyway, we looked at each other for several seconds before she slammed the door in my face.

i looked back at my friend. he was sweating bullets. i dont know what he expected from this, but there was this big long pause where we both tried to figure out what to do, and then the door opened up, and her dad invited me in, and he said she was gonna need a few minutes to finish getting ready, and that in the meantime we could sit and talk.

we did not talk. we did sit. i sat down on the couch, and he sat down in a chair across the couch, and then instead of talking he cleaned his pistol on the coffee table. i wasnt actually sure if it was a threat, or if it was just a fidget thing for 40+ year old republican men, but when i tried to help he got snappy so i just watched him put a pistol back together.

he was okay at it.

eventually my date came downstairs, still mad as hell for reasons beyond my ken, and i felt pretty guilty for being such a mess because i thought that was why she was so angry. i tried to make up for by walking her to the car and getting the door for her, just generally trying to be extra polite, but before i could make it back to the drivers side, her dad called me back to the door. so i flipped around, went to the door, and immediately regreted my decision.

soon as i was within range, her dad got waaaay too close to me, leaned in, and said "whatever you do to her, i will do to you," and my brain went into overdrive making three consecutive realizations.

realization one was, damn, the pistol thing was a threat. that sucks. what an asshole. realization two was, wait, im autistic and even i know theres a 0% chance me and my date even hold hands, least of all boink. does this guy actually think there's even a 1% chance of anyone in that car getting laid tonight? is he an idiot? and then realization three went through, which was wait, is this guy threatening to fuck me? and unfortunately, with my brain doing so much processing, my mouth was left to run amok, so somewhere between realization 2 and 3, i said:

"i can't get pregnant"

which, i swear, wasn't actually me trying to be a smartass, it was just me pointing out that he couldn't actually follow up on that threat. it just wasn't possible. we do not live in the omegaverse and im not scared of you.

still, it was an insanely catastrophic thing to say, and the moment we both heard it, we bluescreened. that single sentence obliterated both of our momentary streams of consciousness like a saltine in front of a sand blaster. problem was, he'd probably gone his whole life not even realizing someone could say something that stupid, and making that realization was going to cost him a lot of thinking time. me though? i had been saying shit like that for 17 years, i didnt have to rewrite my expectations of human nature, i just had to plan an exit and start striding. so i was already halfway back to the car before i heard "hey. hey come back. Hey. Hey. HEY. HEY WAIT. HEY GET BACK HERE. HEY-"

and then i was in my car, and i drove away.

if this happened today, he'd have called her, and the whole thing wouldve imploded then and there, but back then, there were still a decent number of teenagers without cell phones. especially the teenagers of insane, gun toting parents. so she just said: whoa what was that all about? and i said: dont worry about it, he'll tell you about it when you get home.

and she said: ok and went back to staring daggers at me and my friend.

WHICH SURPRISINGLY isnt even how the story ends.

we went to an improv comedy show, and it was a disaster. it shouldve been like, 7/10 tops, but between my date being mad, and my friend having a good time, and me having the existential terror of knowing that a guy with a pistol was probably waiting outside his house for me to come back, it was easily 11/10. i laughed way too hard at everything. especially the jokes that flopped. id sit there in this mostly silent room and laugh until i dry heaved a little, and my date was absolutely disgusted, and even my friend was a little embarrassed, which would just make me laugh harder. i laughed so hard that night i could barely talk the next day. and then the show ended, and my friend said, you know, that was a good time, but i think we should maybe do something a little chiller? who wants to walk around the park? and his date said yeah, and my date said no, and i finally had mercy on the poor woman so i said, look, im gonna drop you off. and i am so, so sorry about this, but im dropping you off like a block away. super duper sorry.

do talk to your dad about the pistols thing if you dont want this happening more in the future tho.

and she said: okay. so i dropped her off, and she walked a block down, and that was that.

then i drove my friend and his date to a park that was good for wandering. i figured they wanted something more private, so instead of following them around point blank, i chose a park with this 30 foot rope tower, and i climbed to the top and i said: hey i can see you anywhere from up here, you are officially chaperoned from a distance. get panopticoned idiot. except my friend really is an idiot, and he didnt really get the whole 'now i dont have to third wheel so insanely hard with you guys' thing so he climbed up the tower too, and then his date followed behind him, so there are three people basically sitting together on top of a telephone pole.

and then they started making out.

i was close enough to hear it.

i didnt really know what to do so i was just kind of sitting there, dissociating, when some college kids came around and started shaking the tower. my friend's date went aaaaaaaaaa im afraid of heights :( and my friend went oh, dont worry, ill hold you tight ;) and i went hey, im gonna climb down and ask them to stop.

so i did climb down, and i did ask them to stop, and they flipped me off, which i wasnt even mad about. at that point i was i was like yeah, it would be weirder if this wasnt a mess. gods plan has been to fly this day like a 747 into my metaphorical twin towers and brother he is close enough for me to see him grinning through the cockpit window. still, eventually the college students got bored, so they climbed up the tower, which gave my friend and his date a window to climb down, and together we walked back to my car.

now, i cant explain why this is, but sitting back in the drivers seat was my carriage-back-into-a-pumpkin moment. i'd been chill about all the chaos, just rolling with the punches, but sitting down made me realize how much of a shitshow the day had been, and while i couldnt go back and fix all of it, i could go back and fix one thing.

so i told my friend and his date, hey, you two, stay here and don't do anything weird. don't. then i walked back to the rope tower, and i started picking up the shoes the college students had left at the base in order to climb.

about halfway through this, i realized that if i took all their shoes, they might think i was in it for the money, and i actually wanted them to know i was in it specifically to spite them. fuck those guys. so i put all the right shoes back, gave myself a 100 foot headstart, yelled "nice shoes, assholes", did a little jig, and started running.

my advice to everyone is that college students are faster than you think. even with the headstart, and the whole climb down the tower thing, i was still only fivish seconds ahead of them by the time i got to my car. i flung the door open, looked in the backseat, didnt see anyone, flung the stolen shoes in the backseat, heard two "ow"s, took that as proof of presence, jumped in and pealed out of the lot.

my friend and his date popped up a few seconds later. they were, uh, doing something weird in the back seat. my one request - obliterated.

they climbed up to ask where the hell all the shoes had come from, and i was like yeah i stole them from the college students, and they were like oh. cool. hope you had fun. and i was like, i did. i did. but speaking of fun, what were you doing back there?

and for the first time in my buddies life, i think he was actually embarassed.

[hpdfag]

hello mutual!! how are you? I hope you are well :D here are some asks from the ask game for you:

moment of death, rigor mortis, putrefaction, and skeletonization!

hihihihi im doing well thank u !!!!! ^_^ answers r under the read-more since this got a bit long v_v

moment of death: to what lengths would you go for your beloved? is there anything you wouldn’t do? any dealbreakers?

almost any length at all. if he wanted me to get worse, id gladly succumb to despair. if he wanted to see me alive and happy, i'd keep fighting to survive. almost anything i can think of as a dealbreaker i would handle just for him. though i guess i'd hate having to share him with someone else... i have a terrible time with jealousy.

rigor mortis: describe your darling.

he's everything, he's a concept, he's an ideal, he's a feeling, he's a wonderful wonderful man that i love very much. i like to say i'm in love with the sun. he's so bright, he lights up a room with his smile alone. when he's there, it feels like everything is going to be okay. he's passionate, and driven, and the most wonderful man i've ever had the privelege of knowing, let alone loving. he's intelligent, and witty, and gorgeous. he's love itself.

putrefaction: do you believe in soulmates? what about reincarnation? if so, do you believe your beloved has always been your beloved?

this one's complicated. i think that, in his original form, he does not exist in this iteration of reality. he couldn't, he's still alive and well and waiting for my recovery. but through being inside the program as a part of the killing game, he's left his mark on the world. there's a piece of him in every living thing. man was recreated in his image, a little kinder, a little warmer.

i used to believe in reincarnation, but i'm not sure anymore. all i do know is that, in a way, every form that hinata has taken has been one that i've loved very dearly despite it all. even if i don't want to admit it to myself. i've always loved him, and who he became, and then who he became again. nothing could change that.

skeletonization: how would you describe your obsession? what does it feel like?

it feels like a hazy fog settled over my senses. it feels like my whole body is bathed in warmth whenever i think about him. when im jealous it feels like something sharp is lodged in my chest, something thats always been there as a dull ache but stings whenever i think of him with someone else.

even my more violent impulses feel warm. sunny. like theyre glowing. when i want to see inside of him or taste his blood it is not out of a desire to cause pain but out of reverence, curiousity, a deep hope that in knowing him as completely as he knows me i'll be able to please him.

all in all i am less an aggressor than i am a servant at heart. i was put on this earth to make him as happy as i possibly can, to please him even if i recieve nothing in return. just the simple act of service to him, a higher power, brings me joy. as much as reciprocation would make me the happiest man on earth, i'd do it all the same even if i wasn't appreciated for a second of it. its all for him.

[blueshykitsune-blog]

I want a giant brown bunny... but... but too much!

The only one I found was like $158 USD... it was just about 5 foot tall! It literally was like looking at what I wanted to make but realized I didn't have enough stuffing for!

And one that was like 3 feet tall was $100...

Like yes I know materials and time is money but I can still complain! Why fabric gotta be so much! And so messy! (The ones with faux fur or of the like. Like whyyyyyy!!!!) Also why is cotton and stuffing so much too! And you get enough for maybe only one 2 foot plushie!

(I ran out of tagging space... 30 the limit sadly. But I had more to say but maybe later I'll do a bigger post on that all.)

[redwing4life]

Home Cooked Meal

CHAPTER 4 | ASHES TO EMBERS

can be read as a stand alone :)

PAIRING: Firefighter!Neighbour!Bucky x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: Smut (finally) - dirty talk, pet names, oral f and m receiving, fingering, tit play, praise kink, hand kink?, ball play, hair pulling, unprotected PinV sex, aftercare, reader and bucky have dinner, swearing, fluff, let me know if i missed anything!

SUMMARY: You surprise Bucky with a home cooked meal after his shift, and it’s the best damn thing he’s had in years. The pasta was pretty good too.

WORD COUNT: 10550 (ngl i rechecked this three times cuz i didn’t think i wrote this much but turns out i did in fact write over 10k words im sorry lmao)

PREVIOUS CHAPTER // NEXT CHAPTER

Call me when you get home x

Your text still sits on Bucky’s lock screen, read but not opened, as he gets changed out of his work clothes.

It’s fair to say that the message intrigued him when he first read it half an hour ago, just before he left the firehouse. His legs sped up your building stairwell faster than normal, desperate to find out why you’re awaiting his call.

Knowing you would have said so if you were in immediate danger, Bucky sifts through the multitude of possibilities that await him on the other side of the ring tone; none of which ease the butterflies in his stomach.

He walks to his kitchen, phone in hand, to get a glass of orange juice. Pulling up your contact page, he presses ‘call’ and grabs the carton of juice from the fridge door.

You answer after just one ring, eager to hear his voice.

“Hey, Barnes!” God, Bucky loves your voice.

“Doll.” His voice is soft, tone rising at the end with curiosity. “You asked me to call, what’s up?”

The firefighter swoons at the adorable giggle you let out, the sound distant from the mic as though you’ve tried to hide it. “I was worried you didn’t see my text.” You admit.

Bucky pictures you biting your lip anxiously, an accurate prediction for your current state.

“What are you doing right now?”

Glancing down at the yet-to-be-filled glass in front of him, Bucky leans a hand against the kitchen island. “Just about to get a drink, what are-“

“Don’t!” You cut in. “Don’t get a drink, I need you to come over.”

“What, now? What’s wrong?”

“Nothings wrong, James. Just come knock, okay? I’ll see you in a minute!”

And with that, the call cuts off with a dull beep; Bucky brings the phone down from his ear and stares at it in confusion. You’re being weird, never having hung up on him like that before.

Alpine meows from above the fridge, drawing her owner’s attention away from the phone, only to tilt her head at him.

Even Alps is confused.

Deciding to just do what you told, Bucky slips his phone into the pocket of his dark jeans, returns the orange juice to the fridge and sets off for the front door. He finds himself checking over his appearance in the entry way mirror, eyes scanning over his outfit before he smooths out his hair.

Although he won’t admit it, Bucky’s spent a lot more time in front of that mirror lately; checking his collar isn’t twisted, his hair isn’t too messy and there’s nothing stuck in his teeth. The need to look good, to look good for you, hasn’t gone unnoticed by his colleagues.

He considers using the spare key you gave him and letting himself into your apartment but shakes the thought away.

She asked you to knock, Bucky. Not break in.

With one final nod in the mirror, Bucky leaves his apartment, stepping into the hallway he’s spent so many mornings and nights in with you.

Old jazz music greets his ears when he approaches your door, the soft melody sneaking through the cracks of the door frame. Bucky smiles to himself at the thought of you dancing in your kitchen, heart warming when he notices your humming.

Knocking thrice, the firefighter steps back and nervously stuffs his hands into his pockets. You always make him nervous, those darn butterflies stirring in his stomach whenever he’s about to see you. And when he does see you. Actually, they’re there even when he imagines seeing you.

He takes a breath when he hears you shuffling up to the door, but nothing could prepare him for the sight when it swings open.

Rusty red fabric flows from your neckline to the middle of your thighs, small flowers dotted over the slightly orange colour. Two thin straps perched on your shoulders leave plenty of skin on show as your usual sun-pendant necklace sits between the v-neck of your dress. Which, by the way, perfectly presents the soft swell of your breasts.

It takes everything Bucky has to not drool at his breathtaking neighbour, but it takes even more to not dive on you and finally taste those pink lips.

Your skin is ablaze beneath his eyes and you revel in his reaction, the exact response you wanted when you pulled on the dress two hours ago.

“We’re matching.” You grin, taking a moment to enjoy Bucky’s red henley.

“It’s almost like we planned it.” A chuckle escapes him, eyes trailing up from your thighs to meet yours.

“Speaking of plans,” You reach out to pull Bucky closer, tugging his forearms until he pulls his hands out of his pockets, “I have a surprise for you.”

Is it letting me look at you in that dress all evening? Your neighbour thinks - hopes - as you lead him into your apartment.

Closing the door behind him, you take his hand in yours once more to guide him to your little kitchen/diner area. If you weren’t looking ahead, you’d see Bucky’s cheeks flushed pink at your touch. Seeing your hand encompassed with his own will never fail to drive him crazy.

When he eventually looks up from your joined hands, he’s stunned to a halt. You turn back to him when you feel him plant his feet and your features twist into a nervous expression.

“I- Doll, what is all this?” The firefighters eyes are wide at your ‘surprise’.

Your small dining table is set up for two; cream place mats lay beneath charcoal gray pasta dishes with wine glasses sitting at their corners. There’s even a little vase with pink and yellow tulips in between the two spaces.

“Well, remember that time when you told me you haven’t had a proper home cooked meal in years?” You watch Bucky closely as you speak, waiting for some sign of approval.

“You mean this morning?” He turns to you in wonder, thinking back to your conversation as he gave you a lift to the cafe. “I don’t know what to say, doll.”

You roll back on your heels, hands scrunching your dress at your sides. “Is it okay? I know it’s a little cheesy and it’s last minute but I thought it would be a nice surprise for you after working all day. I mean, it’s not exactly at your home but it’s pretty cl-“

Bucky takes two long strides towards you and brings his hands to cup your cheeks; your words die on your tongue when he looks down at you with tender eyes.

“It’s perfect, Y/n.” He smiles, stroking his thumb over your cheek bone. “You could feed me Alpine’s food and i’d still bow at your feet, sweets.”

Now you’re the one blushing. You heart skips when Bucky’s eyes drop to your lips with hunger in his gaze.

“Always so good to me, aren’t ya?” His words tempt a whimper from deep within you, a submissive whine held back by the last of your restraint.

“Well-“

The oven beeps, its sharp tone darting between your bodies and making you step back from Bucky’s hold.

“Uhh” Your mind is all over the place as the firefighter watches you with amusement, “I- I should, I mean- the pasta must be-“

“Go, doll.” Bucky shakes his head laughing quietly.

Your dress sways as you spin away to the stove, stirring various pots and tidying up the counters. Your neighbour watches you in awe, unashamedly enjoying the view; you just look so goddamn sexy in that cute little dress while you cook for him. He wishes he could come home to this every night.

“You need a hand with anything, doll?” Bucky’s voice sounds from behind you.

“Actually, yeah!” You glance over your shoulder. “Come here.”

If you keep bossing him about, Bucky’s gonna struggle not to tear that sweet little sundress right off you.

Settling in at your side, Bucky cocks his head. “What d’ya need?”

You scoop some of the creamy tomato sauce onto a spoon and bring it to Bucky’s lips. “Try this for me.”

With bated breath, you watch his full lips wrap around the end of the spoon, his eyes bearing into yours as he drags the sauce into his mouth.

Bucky has no business looking as dirty as he does in this moment; you watch his adam’s apple bob as he swallows before his tongue juts out to catch a few missed drops. And just when you thought your panties would survive the sight, a moan ripples from his throat and you clench around nothing at the sound.

“Good?” You murmur, hoping he doesn’t notice when you cross your legs.

He notices.

“Delicious,” Bucky takes the spoon from your hand and stretches across you to place it back in the pan, his right hand brushing against the small of your back, “you did great, sweets.”

Fuck. Me.

You regather your composure and ask Bucky to get the wine from the fridge. He pours you both a glass, setting them back on the dining table gently before returning the bottle to its home.

“Hey, could you bring the bowls over, please?” You call over your shoulder.

You plate up the sauce coated pasta while Bucky places the dirty pans in the sink, both working around each other like a fine tuned machine.

Before you can do it yourself, Bucky is picking up the bowls and laying them on the place mats, winking at you as he does so. He pulls your chair out for you, nodding for you to join him.

“For you, Madame.” He jokes, allowing you to sit down while tucking you in.

You watch him round the table and take his own seat. “And they say chivalry is dead.”

Bucky grins at you. The orange glow of sunset shines through your windows, catching your features with grace. Your eyes shine beneath the light and Bucky can’t help but find you angelic.

“You’re beautiful, doll. I don’t know if I said that earlier but, god, you look stunning tonight.”

Dropping your head, you play with the hem of your dress shyly. Your hair falls into your face, forcing you to push it behind your ears, though Bucky wishes he was close enough to do it himself.

With rose tinted cheeks, you look up at Bucky through your lashes. “You say that to all your neighbours, Barnes?” You raise a brow with your teasing voice.

Bucky throws his head back and laughs heartily, a sound you’ve come to adore.

“Only the ones who cook for me.” He winks.

“Doesn’t Ms Scott bring you pies every couple weeks?”

“And I tell her she looks ravishing every time.”

You giggle and tell Bucky to dig in, though you could happily sit and talk all night. While you both stop every now and then for a forkful of food, conversation bounces between you as it always does.

Tonight isn’t much different to a typical evening with the firefighter next door; usually you share some snacks and beers, cozying up on the couch as you watch tv. It’s become ritual for you to send Bucky a video of you playing the piano each evening, his phone playing the video on loop as he sleeps. It’s strange, but the music creeps into his dreams and keeps them peaceful, keeps him away from that burning building.

It’s been a few weeks since the night he was sent home early. Both you and Bucky felt a shift that night; waking up in his arms left you craving more, though you’ve yet to tell him as much. You left him sleeping peacefully that morning when you left for work with only a couple hours of sleep under your belt.

Bucky hated waking up to find the other side of his bed empty, no longer feeling your heat. The note you left him eased the disappointment slightly, your neat handwriting promising to come back in your breaks. Neither of you have addressed how right it felt to sleep beside each other that night, despite spending all of your free time together with unspoken words hanging over you.

Instead, you dance around each other like two ghosts doomed to never touch. The bond between you is stronger than any you’ve ever had, the magnetic lure undeniable for you both.

Your glasses have been emptied and refilled twice now - dinner long since been finished - and you’re starting to feel the buzz; those butterflies in your stomach have turned into a swarm of confidence, your brain taking a backseat from its usual overthinking.

“You expect me to believe that you broke down the door before Sam could? The same guy who beat you at your physical a few weeks back?” You tease the brunette, a challenging brow raised at his rather unimpressed face.

“What are you trying to say there, doll?”

Bucky’s jaw clenches when you tilt your head slightly, eyes shining with amusement beneath the exposed hanging light bulbs.

“Nothing to worry your cute little head about.” You watch Bucky relax into his chair slightly as you reach for your glass with a smirk. “Just that I doubt Sam has any difficulty kicking a door down, not with the way he’s built.”

The scoff to end all scoffs ripples from your neighbours throat; his bright blue orbs glare into you and his features twist into a scowl. Oh if looks could kill…

Bucky’s tone is flat, “Didn’t know you were such an admirer of Wilson’s build, Y/n.”

The lack of a pet name sends your confidence wavering, but not enough to keep you from having a little fun.

“Well, you know,” You bring the glass to your lips, “he’s hardly difficult to miss.”

Watching the deep ruby liquid pass over your lips, Bucky fights to hide the fury that’s flooding his veins, forced to look away from your smug grin.

He knows, he knows, that you’re lying through your teeth, trying to get a rise out of his usually impenetrable facade, and yet he can’t help but feel jealous.

Bucky’s painfully aware that he has no right to feel so possessive, not when he lays no claim to you. But the twist of his stomach is proof that he doesn’t much care.

“Maybe I should just give you his number and you can cook him a meal next time.” Bucky grumbles.

“Oh, that’s alright, I already have his number.”

You’ve never seen Bucky’s head snap up as quickly as it just did, his gaze pinning you to your spot.

“You what?”

Gently, you place your glass back on the table. “Yeah, Steve gave him my number last week so he could get in touch.”

The fire in those blue eyes burns brighter with each word, his body so still that his chest is barely moving when he breathes. In fact, you’re not even sure if he is breathing. Hell, he’s not even sure if he’s breathing.

“Is that right?” Bucky’s gruff voice is laced with possessiveness, the low tone travelling straight to your panties till you swear you feel yourself throb. You wonder briefly if you have a jealousy kink and the sweet arousal dripping from your cunt only confirms your suspicions.

“Mhm.” You hum in response, “In fact, i’m going out for coffee with him next week.”

“Huh.”

Bucky’s chair screeches against the hardwood floor as he pushes himself back. You follow his movements with amused eyes when he stands up and grabs your plates before storming to the kitchen. You twist in your chair, watching him place the dishes in the sink and flick on the tap.

“James, what are you doing?” You ask.

“What does it look like i’m doing?” Oh he’s grumpy, grumpy.

Bucky’s shoulders are tense beneath his tight henley, his sleeves now rolled up as he starts scrubbing at the plates. It’s quiet while he concentrates on his work, only accompanied by the music still flowing from your speaker.

From the corner of his eye, the firefighter sees you rise from your chair, ears honed in on the sound of your feet pattering towards him.

It’s now hard for Bucky to focus on anything but your breath on his neck, goosebumps littered across his skin like a rash. You stand right behind him, tracing your fingers up from the small of his back; Bucky’s muscles tense momentarily before melting at your touch, just like always.

“Ask me why i’m seeing Sam next week.” You order, hands still roaming the taut fabric on Bucky’s back. The command makes him pause and clench his eyes shut. Why are you making him talk about this when it’s tearing him apart?

The brunette turns in your hold but you don’t release him, instead settling your hands on his waist.

“Why are you seeing him, doll?” Bucky sounds despondent, brows furrowed in confusion as he looks down at you.

“He asked me to teach his nephews to play the piano, Buck. I’m meeting him and the boys on Wednesday, Sarah too.”

A shocked ‘What’ tumbles from his lips as the information sinks in, his frown slowly falling away as he processes your words.

“Yeah…” You grin, though it’s more like a smirk, content with yourself proving he was jealous.

In a desperate attempt to save his ego, Bucky rolls his eyes playfully. “I knew you weren’t really attracted to that dumbass.”

You scoff and pat his chest lightly. “Sure you did, Barnes. Now scoot, you wash ‘em, i’ll dry ‘em.”

With his hands on his hips, he stays still as you nudge your way to his side, stretching to the window sill where your dish towels lay. Bucky’s never been in this position before, it’s always him who’s teasing you; this is new territory for him and it irks him that you riled him up so easily.

Once he shakes his head clear, the firefighter returns to face the sink and starts washing the dishes again. You wait patiently while he works, humming along to whichever song is playing.

“You like the old stuff, huh doll?” Bucky grins warmly at the slight sway of your hips, your radiance beaming like a lantern.

You giggle sheepishly and bite your lip, unknowingly sending Bucky spiralling. “I thought it was fitting for tonight, really leaning into the whole ‘housewife’ role.”

He raises a brow, “Does that make me your doting husband then, sweets?”

Realising what you said, your cheeks heat up instantly and your eyes widen. You attempt to backtrack but your words stumble over one another as though you’re a little school girl.

Bucky, however, is basking in the familiarity of control; your rosy cheeks never fail to bring a smile to his face, and boy is he beaming right now.

“I meant- It’s- You know what I meant, James.” You shoot daggers at him, though the idea of being married to your neighbour sends your heart into overdrive.

That swoon-worthy laugh greets your ears with haste, Bucky’s eyes crinkled at the corners as his chest reverberates with its force. It’s impossible to bite back the grin that’s fighting its way onto your lips.

Small tendrils of chestnut hair tumble from behind his ears, begging to be pushed back, but the buzz from the wine has dulled and you can’t find the confidence to do it, no matter how much Bucky’s eyes are pleading you to.

“You know, it’s sweet of you to teach the boys how to play.” He looks at you in adoration, the image of you spending time with Sam’s nephews triggering a warmth to spread in his chest.

A breathy laugh escapes you as your gaze falls to the kitchen counter. You blush at the compliment and slowly start drying the dishes again.

“Do you spend much time with them?” You ask with a brief glance his way.

Bucky shrugs, “Yeah, Sarah is always throwing barbecues for the squad. They’re good kids, and I bet they’ll love you!”

“Oh God, I hope so. I’ve never taught before and i’m scared they’ll hate me and i’ll destroy their dreams and-” You ramble away without noticing the frown tugging at your neighbours brows.

“Teach me.”

Huh?

“What?” You freeze.

“You said you’ve never taught before,” Bucky steps closer to you, his cologne swarming around you like a warm hug, “so practise on me. Teach me something.”

You almost laugh at his words, mind immediately jumping to the conclusion that he’s joking. But Bucky doesn’t move, his blue eyes study your own, body so still that you fail to conjure a laugh. He’s not joking.

Hesitation is written across your features, drawing a single shake of Bucky’s head. “Come on, sweets. Please? For me?” He pleads.

“Okay.”

It’s scary how quickly you succumb to Bucky’s wishes; you fear you’d do awful things if only he asked and you’d even do it with a smile. You’re so doomed.

With a triumphant grin, Bucky plucks the dish cloth and plate from your grasp and carefully places them on the sink’s edge, before taking your hand in his and guiding you to your piano.

Nerves prickling beneath your skin, you trail behind him and silently revel in his touch. It’s hard to not stare at his perfect body as you stumble around furniture, the sharp muscles of his shoulders rippling as he tugs you with him. Flicking off the speaker on the way, you fall onto the small piano stool beside Bucky, and with such little room, your left thigh is pressed up against his. The solid curve of his muscles prod into your flesh and yet despite the fluttering it causes in your stomach, you’re far more focused on his hands.

From the bulge of his toned biceps to the trail of prominent veins in his forearms, your eyes drag down Bucky’s arms till you pause at the sight of his large hands. They lay spread across the span of his thighs, his right pinky finger mere atoms away from your exposed skin where your dress has ridden up. You find yourself craving the sparks that alight with his touch, so you adjust your position to make sure your leg brushes against his hand.

It certainly hasn’t gone amiss to the firefighter that you’ve taken a liking to his hands. Sure, he’s caught you staring at them before, but the hunger in your gaze right now is greater than ever.

The corner of Bucky’s lip turns up into a smirk as he reaches for your hands once more, lifting them to rest on the ivory keys of your piano.

“Wanna hear you play me something before you give me a lesson.” He admits, his words more of a demand than a question.

When you fail to respond, still caught up in scanning the crevices of his calloused hands, Bucky nudges your shoulder.

You shake your head with a dazed frown, “Huh?”

A playful chuckle falls from his pink lips, “I said play me something, sweets, before you start teachin’ me.”

You giggle sheepishly, sighing an ‘Oh’ before you gather your thoughts. Bucky returns his hands to his lap - a movement you struggle to ignore - giving you free rein of the instrument.

Running through some songs you could teach him, you settle for one of your favourites, or more accurately, one of Bucky’s favourites. The cool surface of the keys is harsh beneath your fingertips, a stark contrast to the Bucky-induced-heat flushing through your veins, hands stretching into place as you prepare the opening chords.

Rhythmic tones swarm around the two of you as you begin playing, masterfully dancing across the keys like it’s a second language. Your graceful motions always bring Bucky to a halt as you entrap him in your art.

He recognises the song straight away, lips turning up at the sweet melody. You didn’t even have to ask to know what he wanted to hear, you just knew. Bucky’s head feels light at the sight before him. A knowing grin has settled on your soft lips, your body ever so lightly swaying to the music, clearly getting lost the sounds.

It’s impossible not to feel the adoring stare of your neighbour, no matter how hard you try to ignore it. Warmth is pooling in the depths of your heart where it feels like you’re bleeding out, your love for Bucky forcing out the blood till the only thing circulating through your veins is him. No longer able to cope with the feelings swarming within you, your fingers abruptly stop mid song before you turn to look up at the firefighter.

“Okay, your go.” You state, but when Bucky raises a bemused brow your way, you continue to instruct him. “Come on. You’re gonna do the left hand, I’ll do the right.”

“Yes Ma’am!” Bucky chimes with a mock salute, earning him a glare.

It takes a few tries to move his fingers into the correct positions, both because he’s apparently wholeheartedly incapable of doing what you say but also because you may or may not zone out every time the veins of his hands stick out as he moves. But it’s still entirely his fault though. Entirely. ‘Maybe like 98% his fault. That’s seems fair.’ You think.

“There you go!” You cheer when the firefighter successfully plays the right notes in tandem.

“Would you look at that, not so useless after all.” Bucky winks at you and you blush lightly.

Glancing at him hopefully, you ask him to play the first chord you taught him.

“Oh, umm-“ He stutters, fingers flailing about and pressing random keys in search of the right pattern.

“Here, let me…” You chuckle sweetly at how utterly lost he looks and move to help him.

Leaning forward, you drag Bucky’s fingers over the ridges of ivorite, slowly placing them on the correct keys. You feel his lust-filled eyes trained on your face while you work, though it’s getting harder and harder to focus under his stare.

A frown tugs at your brows when your mind goes blank as to where Bucky needs to put his left hand, his still-wandering gaze burning into you and spreading to your cunt faster than you care to admit.

Of course, Bucky notices your breath quickening, chest stumbling up and down with shaky pants. His proximity is intoxicating and the will to fight it is slowly slipping past you, fingers itching to trace up Bucky’s thick arms to his neck so you can finally pull his lips to yours.

Bucky reads every inch of your skin like he’s studying for an exam. From the clench of your jaw to your eyes fluttering shut, he knows that he’s winning this tussle for control.

“Bucky…” You breathe, the wavering sigh rolling from your tongue like a stray secret.

“Yes, doll?” Bucky smirks with glinting eyes and you bite back a whimper.

Opening your eyes, you keep them trained on where yours rest on his. “I can’t focus with you looking at me like that.”

Bucky knows exactly what you mean but he can’t help but toy with you. “Like what?” He cocks his head with faux innocence that fools no one.

You turn to look up at the firefighter, eyes meeting his half lidded ones, the blue of his eyes barely visible behind his lust-blown pupils but the blue you can see is so impossible dark that you wonder if they were ever light in the first place.

Taking a breath, you wet your lips so briefly that Bucky nearly misses it. Nearly. “Like you want to kiss me.” You say, barely above a whisper.

“Oh,” Bucky sighs, leaning in closer, “I want to do much more than that.”

Your body is alight with need. Craving his touch, a breach of the barrier between you, you practically whine your reply. “Then why are you just staring?”

“Well, I wanna remember you like this; sweet, angelic, so perfect in your little sundress.“

With the back of his hand, Bucky nudges the hem of your dress higher till his whole hand is spread against your thigh. You quash the aching desire to glance at where your bodies meet and lock your eyes on Bucky’s, whose lips are turned into a knowing smirk.

“Gotta savour it while I can.” He says as he pushes his palm further to your inner thigh, his pinky finger mere inches from your heat.

“Why?” You ask, heart racing.

It dawns on you that you may actually pass out when the firefighter leans in close to you, nose pushing your hair aside to expose the soft skin of your neck which now sits defenceless to his advances. The heat of his breath is electrifying, lips nearing your pulse point eagerly.

Bucky’s lips ghost over your skin as he explains, “Cause once I’ve had my way with you, you’re gonna be a hot fucking mess, sweets.”

A breathy moan tumbles from the depths of you chest at the crude insinuations of his words; your eyes flutter shut, an unintentional reaction that you’re grateful for as it hides the way your pupils roll to the back of your head.

Through the dark span of your eyelids, you picture exactly how Bucky will make you a hot fucking mess. Spread legs with his tongue delving through your folds, back arched as he pounds into your pussy with vigour, his hands guiding your hips back to meet his as he fucks you from behind. The images bear too much for you yet you can’t stop picturing the salacious scenes, not when your neighbour is pressing open-mouthed kisses to the side of your neck.

“James…” You sigh, voice carrying the weight of a thousand pleas.

“Yeah? Is that what you want?”

Nodding your head desperately, you whine, unable to form any words beneath his sinful tongue.

“Words, doll.” Bucky says, lips hovering over your ear. He’s struggling to hold back but can’t let himself touch you the way he wants to until he hears you spell it out for him.

Turning your head slowly, you peer at Bucky with half-lidded eyes and a slack-jaw. “I want you, James. Please.”

That’s all it takes to disintegrate the final remnants of the firefighter’s self-control before his full lips meet your own with a hunger that’s been brewing for months.

Bucky’s lips glide across yours, slotting between your own so easily it’s got you believing this is not your first kiss. It’s soft and sweet but so goddamn sensual that you can’t help but moan into his mouth, the now open gap giving him the perfect chance to slide his tongue inside.

You bring your hands up Bucky’s body and rest them on his neck, fingers tentatively feeding through the hair at the nape of his neck while you jostle for control of the kiss.

Forced to pull back for breath, you take a peek only to find those strikingly blue eyes already on yours.

“Fuck, doll,” Bucky whispers, “you don’t know how long I’ve been waitin’ for this.”

“Probably not as long as I have.” You scoff.

“Then let me make up for lost time.”

“Wait, what do y-“

Within moments, Bucky is lifting your legs over the bench and is knelt between them, his large hands teasing the hem of your dress as he keeps your thighs spread apart.

Your mouth is agape with surprise while you grab onto the piano behind you for stability, a mixture of nerves and anticipation coursing through your veins. And as if he can read your anxious thoughts, Bucky looks up at you with the most sincere expression across his soft features.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asks, despite the deep desire shining in his eyes. He wants you more than anything, but he needs to know you want him too.

It’s an easy answer and you’re shaking your head faster than you care to admit, but the memory of Bucky’s prior words flash through your mind and you still just as quick.

“No.”

Watching intently as he runs a hand from your ankle up to your knee, the firefighter rolls his bottom lip between his teeth when your breath hitches.

“Then promise me you’ll tell me if that changes?” Bucky asks.

You reach down and run your fingers through his chestnut locks, tucking the few loose strands behind his ear.

“I promise.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweets.”

A hearty laugh reverberates through you, but you’re quickly silenced by Bucky’s lips on your inner thigh, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. He kisses his way up to your heat, slowly pushing your dress higher and higher till the only thing between you and his mouth is the crimson lace panties covering your mound.

A sound you can only describe as a growl ripples through the room and you glance down at your neighbour to find him practically drooling at the sight of you. But then his eyes are on yours, his hungry, half-lidded eyes, and he’s tracing a finger over your clothed slit. Your breathing becomes laboured at his touch, your body, your mind, all of you at his mercy.

“Bucky, please…”

“Ah ah ah-“ The firefighter tuts, “-since when do you call me Bucky?”

You frown, back arching slightly in search of some friction on your core, too aroused to process his words properly.

“Look at me, Y/n.”

The stern nature of his tone lures your eyes to his once more. “What?” You ask, confused.

“I haven’t spent months goin’ crazy listening to you use my name only to have you call me Bucky when I’m finally between your legs.”

The throb of your pussy spurs you on and you tilt your head teasingly. “Touch me, James.” You say, and he obeys.

Bucky glides his hands up to your hips and drags your panties lower and lower, his lips chasing the lace till there’s no where left to kiss but your slick folds.

He hovers over your heat with bated breath before forcing himself to close his eyes and ask if you’re still okay with this.

“More than okay, James.” You answer truthfully.

“Good, cause I’m fucking starvin’.”

You feel his mouth on your pussy before you’ve even processed his words, tongue delving between your folds like he really is starving and you didn’t just feed him the best dinner he’s had in years. Though something tells him that title is about to be beaten the second you cum all over his face.

Your mouth curves into an ‘o’, the most pornographic of moans escaping you at the sinful sounds of Bucky’s mouth on your cunt. Drowning in increasingly intense waves of pleasure, your senses are dialled up to the max; with every flick of his tongue and suck on your clit, you find yourself falling deeper in your arousal. It becomes impossible to listen to anything Bucky’s telling you.

“Y’taste so sweet, doll.”

“Doing so good for me, aren’t ya? My good girl.”

“Let me hear you, doll, need to hear how good you feel.”

Whether it’s praises or orders, there’s no chance in hell of you understanding a word that falls from his lips, though Bucky doesn’t mind. The clench of your soft thighs around his head tells him all he needs to know - that even if your heads not fulling comprehending him, your body is. And the sheer amount of slick glistening across your cunt is enough for him to know that you’re ready for more.

The sensation of Bucky’s finger tracing along your pussy lips sends your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your hips lifting off the stool.

“James- oh fuck-“

Words die on your tongue when Bucky eases a finger inside you. White hot pleasure builds at your core, burning the last remnants of your self control, its embers coaxing a near-scream out of you.

“Fuck, that’s it, sweets. That’s- shit you’re so tight, pussy’s squeezing me and it’s just one finger.”

You mewl and squirm beneath him.

“How you gonna handle two of ‘em, doll?”

Bucky’s mesmerised at the sight of his finger gliding in and out of you, drenched in your sweet juices, too beautiful of a sight for him to give up by eating you out. But when you groan at the suggestion of two fingers, he drags his gaze upwards and is greeted with a view that’s evening better.

You, draped against the piano, head tilted back and brows drawn together while uneven sighs tumble from your swollen lips. God, you look heavenly, Bucky thinks. He doesn’t realise he’s said it out loud, but it makes little difference seeing as you’re rather preoccupied with the thought of Bucky fucking another finger inside you.

“James?” You call, reaching down to cover your left hand around the one at your sex, the other tugging on his hair.

“Yeah? Are you alright? Do you want me to stop?” He panics, thinking you’ve grabbed his hand to stop him.

Instead, you look him in the eye and say “Are you gunna fuck another finger inside of me or what?”

An awe-inspired grin spreads across Bucky’s face at your question. He keeps his blue orbs on yours while he presses a kiss to your clit and pushes himself higher till he’s inches from your face.

He rests a hand against the piano, caging you in and says, “Anything for my girl.” before a second digit joins his first.

The stretch knocks the wind out of your chest but Bucky hardly gives you any time to adjust, his fingers pumping in and out of you even faster than before. His palm slaps against your bundle of nerves with every thrust, the force riding to your chest where your tits bounce in rhythm.

“So damn beautiful…” The firefighter says.

You look up at him through your lashes and pull his lips to yours, tasting yourself on his tongue. With clashing teeth, the wet slapping sounds only feeds into the moment and Bucky’s suddenly very aware of the tightness in his jeans.

With each passing second, the cord in your stomach is getting so close to snapping that your mouth isn’t even moving against Bucky’s anymore.

“Fuck, James, I’m- I-“

“Shh, I know.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “You gonna cum all over my fingers, doll? Gonna let me see you fall apart?”

You nod feverishly.

“Good girl, now let go for me.”

That’s all it takes for the damn to break loose and the fiercest orgasm of your life to rack through your body. It reaches every part of you, all the cracks and crevices you never thought could be touched, yet here you are, feeling every inch of yourself set on fire.

“That’s it, doll, that’s it.” Bucky comforts you while you lay victim to the aftershocks of his work, slowing the thrust of his fingers till your breathing evens and he moves to gently circling your sensitive clit.

“Holy shit…” You sigh, a satisfied and totally fucked-out grin playing across your lips.

Noticing how your hazy your eyes still are, Bucky smiles to himself while pressing loving kisses on your forehead.

“You did real good for me, sweetheart.” He listens to you hum beneath him as he moves to kiss your temple. “Y’look so pretty when you cum, you know that? Even prettier than I imagined.”

You twist in your seat to face your neighbour. “You’ve imagined this too?”

“Every night, doll.”

“Huh…”

Though Bucky’s eyes remain fixed on yours, it’s obvious that his mind has slipped away; he’s now clouded by memories of his x-rated dreams, ones that have ended with him pumping his embarrassingly hard length into his fist one too many times, and his cock twitches in his ever-tightening pants. You notice the movement at his crotch and, emboldened by his confession and the best orgasm you’ve ever had, you decide to take back some control.

“What have you pictured doing to me, James?” Your tone is so sweet, so innocent, that it takes a moment for your words to register in his brain. But when it does, boy, does a fresh wave of blood rush to his cock.

“You sure you wanna know? Cuz it ain’t all sweet and innocent.” He warns.

You say nothing and let your actions do all the talking; you slide a hand down to meet his left, the one still nestled between your sticky thighs, and tug it away from your cunt. With your eyes locked on his, you raise Bucky’s cum coated fingers to your mouth, slowly wrapping your lips around them and sucking your sweetness away. Making sure to give the firefighter a show, you swirl your tongue around his fingers before taking them as deep as you can, a knowing look in your eyes when you notice Bucky clenching his jaw.

After releasing his fingers from your swollen red lips, you press a kiss to the palm of his hand. “Tell me.”

What you can only describe as a growl rises from the back of Bucky’s throat and before you know it, you’re being carried to your bedroom, legs bound tightly around his waist while your arms wrap loosely around his neck.

He sits down on the edge of the bed; hands resting on your hips and edging lower to your ass, his fingers grip the supple flesh to keep you in place.

His force on your hips is pushing you down on his ample bulge, sparking a flash of pleasure straight up your spine that escapes you with a moan. Bucky chuckles softly with a sinful grin as you tilt your head back at the feeling.

“You wanna know what I’ve imagined us doing, doll?” The firefighter grabs your chin to bring your attention back to him. He runs the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip, tugging on it and letting it bounce back into place.

“I’ve pictured us just like this.” He drops his hand to your neck, tracing the curve of your collar bone till it meets the strap of your sundress. “You, naked and beautiful as ever, riding my cock like I know you can.”

You gasp lightly when he tugs your strap till it’s tumbling off your shoulder.

“And you’re telling me just how full you are, how stretched your little pussy is around me, choking my cock like a damn vice.”

Bucky’s filthy words send your hips into motion without warning; you grind your bare cunt over his crotch, the tent in his pants settling between your slick folds till his shaft is enveloped with your warmth.

“Does that sound good, doll? To have my cock buried inside you when you bounce on it? Fuck, I bet your cunt is dripping for me again,”

“It never stopped, James.” You whimper, your sensitive clit sending jolts up your frame as Bucky guides your hips over his.

“That’s right, you’re never gonna use anything else to cum ever again. You got me now, doll. I’m all you need. Me, my cock, I’m gonna ruin everyone else for you.”

You don’t even notice that Bucky’s hands are on the zip at your back, slowly pulling it down till the fabric are your chest goes slack, and with the straps already draped over your shoulders, the flowing material cascades around you, tumbling to your hips and leaving you defenseless to Bucky’s insatiable blue eyes.

“Fuck me, sweets, you’re- god- you’re perfect.” He leans in and kisses your collarbone. “So,” kiss, “So,” kiss, “perfect.”

Your eyes flutter shut, lost in the feeling of his touch, and Bucky smirks when he sees you. He teases a hand up your soft skin till it sits just beneath your tit, daring to reach up and play with you in the ways he’s always dreamt of.

“Is this okay?” He asks, earning an even more passionate grind of your hips as you push your chest closer to his open mouth.

He chuckles, “Needy, aren’t ya, sweets?”

You whine.

“Hmm, lucky for you, this is exactly what I imagined doing to you, what I’ve dreamt of for months…”

His lips wrap around your hardened nipple with haste, the warmth of his mouth a welcome sensation. He sucks at the sensitive nub, this tongue reaching out to soothe you afterwards. You throw your head back and moan loudly.

The sound of bucky loudly licking and sucking on your tits is driving you crazy, to the point where your hips are stuttering over his, practically drowning in the feeling till you have no control over your movements.

“God, I love your tits. Wanna act out every dream I’ve ever had of you. Fucking your tits, your throat, your cunt, anywhere you’ll let me, doll, please. I’ve needed you for so long.”

You blush at the word love, surpressing the hope that is stirring at the possibility that your tits aren’t the only thing he loves. Has he really wanted this as long as me? You wonder, picturing everything he just revealed he’s been wanting.

“M’So fuckin’ hard for you sweetheart, I know you can feel me. Dick’s throbbing, doll, it’s s’hard it hurts.”

You pull at his hair so he’s looking up at you again and capture his lips in yours.

“I wanna see you, Bucky…”

He groans and reaches for the hem of his shirt which he waists no time in tearing off. Your chest rises and falls heavier than before, eyes raking his physique just like you had that night he was leaving the shower at his place.

You trail a finger down his abs till it brushes the button of his jeans teasingly.

“All of you, James.” You look pointedly at his crotch. “May I?” You ask and when he nods, you climb off his lap and sink between his legs on the floor, you dress tumbling to the ground immediately.

Bucky’s abs tense as you work to undo the button, your hands tiny in comparison to his body. Next, you work the zipper up and over the bulge of his cock, the teeth desperate to come apart after being so constricted for so long. The two sides of denim snap away from the tent of his boxers, perfectly presenting where the firefighter so badly needs your touch.

He helps you kick off his jeans till the only thing between you is his boxers. You trace a finger up and down his shaft through the cotton, enjoying the sticky patch of pre cum leaking through the top.

“Have you ever imagined me sucking your cock, James?” You ask with half lidded eyes before kissing his covered shaft. “Cause I have.”

Bucky whimpers - whimpers - at your words, his hips snapping up to your face uncontrollably.

You begin to drag down his boxers, trailing kisses down down down, your lips greeting his tip when his cock flicks up against them before your eyes even get chance to glance at him.

Your eyes flutter shut at the salty taste on your lips, revelling in the breathy moans from your neighbour.

“Fuck- pl-please honey, I need your- argh- mouth around me!”

You make eye contact with him from your place on the floor and ask if he’s sure.

“More than anything.”

And with that, you take his thick length into your mouth, lips sealing around his angry pink cock head briefly when your trace your tongue over his slit, before gliding lower down his cock.

You take as much of him as you can, but you need time to warm up having never taken a cock as large as his before.

“You’re so big, baby.” You say as you pull off his shaft with a pop, “Biggest I’ve ever had in my mouth.”

A frustrated groan arises from the firefighter and you feel his hand on the back of your head, gently pushing you to his dick once more.

“Suck my cock, doll, just like we’ve both imagined, nice and deep, please.”

You take the base of his cock in your hands and guide his tip back to your lips.

“Atta girl,” Bucky encourages as you take him deeper and deeper.

He feels you relaxing your throat to take more of him and his balls clench at the feeling.

“Argh fuck, fuck, fuck. Good girl, oh my god, yes!”

His praises and curses cheer you on and you manage as much of him as you can, only an inch or so remaining that’s simply too thick to fit in your mouth. Lord knows how he’ll fit in your pussy, but you’re sure he’ll figure it out.

You bob your head on his length over and over till you’re in desperate need of air. You let your hands work your spit and his precum up and down his hard cock while you catch your breath and watch his beautiful face contort into one of extreme pleasure.

Your chest fills with pride at Bucky’s facial expressions; making him feel good is somehow more rewarding than anything you’ve done in your life and you find yourself content at the thought of spending the rest of your days pleasing him.

Bucky is oblivious to the gratified smile toying your lips and wholly unprepared for your next movement.

“Oh god- oh fuck, doll-” He groans, his breathing staggered and eyes clenched shut when you take his balls in your mouth, the skin sloppily wet from your work on his cock, and now enjoying the warmth of your mouth.

“Oh honey, do that again, felt so go- argh!” He’s interrupted by you tending to his sack once more, your tongue swirling around them and lightly sucking.

You moan around his pretty, swollen balls, the vibrations drawing a sigh of pleasure from your neighbour. The trimmed hair at the base of Bucky’s member is tickling your nose while you fight to taste every part of him.

With a final sharp suck, you release his balls with a small plop, plant a wet kiss on each and flatten you tongue to lick a bold stripe up his length. The tip of your muscle presses into the vein on the underside of his dick and Bucky thrusts upward, his hips bucking as he desperately searches for more.

As you ready yourself to glide his cock down your throat once more, you feel Bucky’s hand on your cheek, pulling you off him.

“What’s wrong? Did I do something?” You ask with a concerned frown, nervous that you’ve done something wrong to have Bucky stopping you. You wrap your hand around his forearm, the one outstretched to hold your hair, while the other remains enclosed around his cock.

“Nothin’ bad, sweets, it’s just that- fuck-“

You absentmindedly stroke your thumb over his girth, a motion you intend to be comforting but in reality, it just makes him throb even harder in your hands.

“-I’m not gonna last much longer if you keep using your pretty mouth like that.”

“And that’s a problem because…?”

He laughs lightly and tucks your hair behind your ear. “Cause as hot as you’d look swallowing my load, I’d much rather cum inside that sweet pussy for our first time.”

You roll your bottom lip between your teeth before pecking a doting kiss to his forearm and letting Bucky pull you to your feet. His eyes follow yours till he’s looking up at you from his seated position, his hands falling to your hips with an awestruck face.

“What the hell did I do to deserve you?” His voice is barely above a whisper. You blush crimson.

“Get on the bed, doll.” He orders. “Lay on your back.”

You do as he says and once you’ve settled, he crawls on top of you. It’s quiet for a moment as Bucky stares lovingly down at you, burning the image into his memory to remind him he has everything he needs.

“I should have found the guts to do this months ago…” You murmur, pushing the fallen tendrils of chestnut hair behind his ear. He looks so goddamn perfect; the golden glow filtering through your window catching every feature you’ve spent so long dreaming about, and now he’s here, really here, and you can’t help but stroke his cheek with revere.

“We have now, doll. That’s enough for me.” Bucky whispers. “Are you comfortable?”

You nod, truthfully, both in terms of your position but also for what’s coming. But then his elbows bend out and he’s lowering himself onto you.

“How about now?”

There’s a gleam in his eye and a playful smirk on his lips as he watches your chest heave, your body taking more of his weight now.

“No!” You giggle.

“No? Is this better?” Bucky teases, briefly laying his whole weight over you until you paw at his shoulders to push him off.

“James! You’re squishing me!”

The melody of your carefree laughter has Bucky melting and he pushes himself up onto his hands once more. His lip is tucked between his teeth, enjoying the view as he becomes increasingly aware of his cock now just one slip away from your pussy lips.

Quickly coming to your own awareness of Bucky’s rock hard length pressing into you, you sober up.

“Darling?” You tug on his bottom lip with the pad of your thumb.

Bucky’s brows pinch closer slightly.

“I need you inside me.”

His soft lips are crashing against yours within moments, his hand fighting between the nonexistent space between your bare bodies to grasp his cock and guide his tip to your bundle of nerves.

The sudden taste of how good Bucky can make you feel forces a sharp breath from you. It’s so much yet not enough, all at the same time.

“Tell me if you need me to stop, okay? Let me take care of you how you deserve.”

After a meek nod with your hands finding refuge in Bucky’s soft locks, he trails his cock head down your pink folds till it catches on the dip of your entrance.

Bucky tempts a whimper from you as he slides inside of you, your walls stretching to accommodate his larger than average member.

“Fuck, doll, you’re so tight for me.” The firefighter moans, resisting the urge to snap his hips and bottom out completely.

You’ve yet to make a sound, the sting in your pussy not yet dissipating, and when you glance down at where your bodies meet, you realise you’re barely taking half of him.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Bucky’s reassuring voice is ghosting over your ear, “you’re taking me so well, sweets. You need me to go slower?”

You clench your eyes shut briefly, “No, keep going, you’re just so…”

“So what?”

Bucky watches a deep red creep up your neck before returning his gaze to your eyes, that now dance across the room avoiding him.

A gentle grasp on your chin draws you to face the breathtaking man above you and you clench around his dick.

“What happened to the little minx who was practically beggin’ me to fuck her, huh? Don’t get all shy on me now, dollface. I’m so what?”

His words have you spilling yours without second thought. “You’re so fucking thick, James, cock’s splittin’ me in half.”

He groans and snaps his hips fully into yours, making you scream out, “Jamie!!!”

His scalp burns when you pull on his hair harder than before, your moans filling the room like a broken record. Bucky should be focused on the furrow of your brow, your laboured breaths, the way your cunt is choking him, anything about how perfect this feels, but all he can focus on is how with one thrust, you called him ‘Jamie’. And you didn’t just say it, you screamed it.

“Shit, honey, say it again.”

“Ja-Jamie…” You whine and feel Bucky draw his hips back before pounding into you once more.

“Again.” Your neighbour growls.

“Oh my god, fuck- I”

“Again.”

It takes everything you have to open your eyes and look at him. “Fuck me, Jamie.”

“That’s my girl.”

Bucky drives his length into you till his tip is hitting your cervix, the pleasure wrapping around your throat and squeezing the air out of you. You fight to breathe as Bucky drills into you, over and over, softly grunting with every thrust.

“Never felt anything as good as your cunt before, doll. Wanna spend the rest of my life buried inside you.”

You pull his lips to yours and, back arching from the mattress, dive your tongue into his mouth with vigour. He lets you explore his mouth while fucking you deep and fast, the headboard of your bed slamming against the wall and probably driving your neighbour crazy. Oh wait, he is your neighbour, and it is driving him crazy, but in the best way imaginable.

“So goddamn tight, sweets, y’pussy was made for me,” He swallows your whimpers happily, “don’t you think? You feel how good i’m filling you up, honey? Sliding in an’ out so easy, you’re so fucking wet for my dick.”

“Harder, Jamie.”

Goddamn.

“Keep calling me that and I’ll do whatever you want.”

You lose yourself in his thrusts; the sting has long turned into the most pleasure you’ve ever felt, and that’s saying something after the orgasm he lulled from you only a few minutes ago.

“Fuckin’ me s-so good, Jamie.”

“Ah- just like that, baby.”

“I’m getting close, James, need you to go faster.”

Your pleas send Bucky’s cock pulsing and he does exactly as you wish. He fucks you faster, fighting off the desperate urge to cum inside your sweet cunt.

“Jamie…” You sigh.

He grins up at you from his place at your tits, his tongue reaching out to tease your nipples. You push his head down till he takes your sensitive bud in his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue over it while he gropes its twin.

The tight coil in your stomach is twisting to its limit and you find yourself dangerously close to cumming around Bucky’s hard, thick length.

“I’m so- oh fuck- i’m so close, James.”

He lifts his head and eyes you with lust blown pupils.

“Are you gonna cum for me, doll? God, I can feel you clenching around me, you wanna cream all over my cock? Huh?” He smirks at your pornographic moans. “Bet I’ll look so good covered in your cum, sweets, maybe I’ll let you clean me up, put that mouth to good use.”

“I’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum,” You chant several times breathlessly.

“Let go for me, sweet girl, make a mess o’my cock. Cum, doll.”

Your body shudders as your hips grind up into Bucky’s, your walls tightening before he feels you gush around him. Practically screaming in pleasure, you bite down on Bucky’s shoulder to quiet yourself, though the pain travels straight to his member, still fucking into you with force.

“Fuck, James, you’re so perfect, never came so hard in my life- shit-“

He’s groaning into your ear, his balls slamming against you and filling the room with salacious wet slaps.

“You’re so wet and- fuck- I can’t- I can’t hold back much longer.”

You tug on the hair at the nape of his neck and lick up the side of his throat, tongue catching the salty beads of sweat in its path. Reaching his earlobe, you suck on it lightly and whisper into his ear.

“Want you to cum inside me, Jamie. Fill me up, please, I need your cum.”

“Argh, fuck!!” Your words send Bucky over the edge and his hips stutter while he finally lets go.

“Oh god, yes!” Bucky grunts. “Take my cum, doll, fuckin’ take it.”

Your tongue seeks his neck once more, pressing open mouthed kisses as his cock shoots streams of white seed into you, the spurts seemingly never ending.

“Fillin’ my cunt so much, Jamie- fuck- you feel so good!”

As his cock softens, his thrusts slow to a more bearable pace, both of you so sensitive from your orgasms. Catching your breath takes a minute or two, but in the meantime, you coax satisfied sighs from your firefighter by running your hands up and down his back; the light sheen of sweat greets your fingertips as you touch him tenderly.

With no words being shared, you focus solely on Bucky’s breathing, the rise and fall of his back beneath your hands and the weight of his body on yours. It should be uncomfortable, but you’ve never felt so at home in a place, let alone with a person, in your life.

“That was…” Bucky murmurs into your neck.

You finish his sentence, “Pretty damn good.” Laughter ripples through the muscles of his back.

“Yeah,” He agrees and pulls back slightly to look at you, “you feeling okay?”

“If by okay you mean ‘completely and utterly fucked out’ then yeah, I’m great.”

You grin cheekily before pushing his hair behind his ear yet again, an act you find yourself praying that you’ll get to do for the rest of your life.

“How are you feeling?” You ask sincerely.

Those blue orbs flick between your own, laced with an emotion you hope to be love. “Like I want to be with you like this forever.” Bucky admits. “That and completely and utterly fucked out.”

You laugh heartily, bringing a beaming smile to Bucky’s swollen red lips.

“Let me clean you up, doll.” He offers before pushing himself off you, much to your dismay. He disappears to your bathroom for a minute before returning with a damp cloth in hand.

“Can you spread your legs for me, sweets?”

He bites a chuckle at how quickly you obey him and gets to work, wiping away your shared cum from your pussy and goosebump-ridden thighs. The towel is warm and soft on your skin, lulling you to sleep, though you fight to keep your eyes on your neighbour.

“You’re so beautiful, James.” You say, reaching to place your hand on his that sits beside you hip, where he’s leaning his weight.

He smiles sheepishly and focuses on the job at hand. Once you’re clean, Bucky carries you to the bathroom so you can do your business, waiting patiently outside after putting his boxers back on and grabbing his henley for you to wear.

When you step out of the bathroom, Bucky’s holding his he let out in front of you. “You looked a bit cold so I thought you might want a shirt?”

You smile, “Your shirt?”

“Yeah…” He rubs the back of his neck, muscles flexing at the movement, “You don’t have to, I just thou-“

He stops talking when you pull the henley from his grasp and tug it over your head. It swallows you whole and the sleeves tumble past your hands, but Bucky thinks it’s perfect. You’re perfect.

Grabbing his hand, you pull him back to your room and back into bed, tugging the sheets over you both where you nestle into his chest.

“You’re staying, right?” You ask with the most puppy-dog eyes you can muster.

“Of course, doll.”

Smiling to yourself, you curl up against the firefighter. “Woulda cooked you a meal months ago if I knew that’s all it took for you to finally fuck me.”

a/n: filth. pure filth. so sorry that it took me a lifetime to post this - life got lifey and it took me ages to get this right. it’s my second time writing any sort of smut so i hope it was good for y’all. thanks for all the support, it means the world to me. love you guys, red ❤️

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