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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 11 months ago

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Chapter 8: Jealousy Doesn't Look Good On Anybody Except...

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy. This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter eight of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 4.1K

Warnings: References to sex, Cursing (a few times), Drinking, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC,

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

The song they dance to is "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" by Russ Columbo and this should take you to the song. It's the song I named the series for, because I believe it encompasses how both the reader feels, but also how Soldier Boy will feel in a few chapters. I also believe that the song House of Memories by Panic at the Disco, fits the more modern parts of the series.

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Philadelphia 1938

The lights twinkled along the ceiling of the dance hall as the gentle swell of jazz floated through the air. Couples swayed on the dance floor clinging to one another as the soft tones of the music soothed the dull throb of the whispers of rising tension overseas. It was a Saturday night, and you and a few of your friends from the Dawson School for Girls had slipped away to spend the evening twirling in the arms of whomever caught your fancy.

Well, at least that's what your friends wanted to do. There was only one particular man who'd caught your fancy, but he was nowhere to be seen.

The Dawson School for Girls was the answer to your mother's prayers, a boarding school in Boston, far away from Ben's "corruptive influence" as she put it. Ben was currently at boarding school number ten in Upstate New York. The last time you’d seen him was when you were on break and Ben had just left boarding school number nine for fighting with other students, but he wouldn't say what for. You’d sent him a few letters to tell him how bored you were including a few sketches and watercolor paintings, with minimal response, but it was like him not to write back.

You hadn't mentioned that Howard Stine had been coming on the weekends to take you out. Your mother was pleased with him, he checked all the boxes: wealthy, not Ben, educated, not Ben, from a nice family, not Ben, and of course most importantly, not Ben.

She was practically making wedding invitations and choosing the names of your children after only three months. However, it was nice to see her happy for a change, kept her from sniping at your figure now that someone was interested. Well, not sniping that much.

Howard was… nice, but he was one of the most boring people you'd ever met and he never understood why you always carried a sketchbook with you. When he'd taken you to Franklin Park one weekend, you stopped along the pond to sketch some of the ducks that were waddling on the bank, but Howard told you he didn’t have time to wait for you to draw them. Instead of telling him that he could just leave, you shut the sketchpad and continued to walk with him and quickly learned that it was better to leave your sketchpad at the dorm whenever he was in town. You also found yourself talking less and less, allowing him to fill the silence with his talk of the stock market crash and how the United States economy recovered due to the efforts of President FDR.

You hated that. You didn't recognize yourself when you were with him. You didn't feel like you.

And every time he was here all you could do was compare him to Ben. Ben would never tell you to stop drawing, yes he would tease you about it, but he always sat next to you while you were sketching, watching you work. You never understood that. Ben was so impatient with everyone else, but he was willing to sit with you for any inordinate amount of time if you were drawing while making you laugh the whole time.

I miss him so much.

"Can I get you a drink?" Howard puts his hand on the small of your back, leaning in to whisper in your ear. You try not to flinch at his touch. He had already been in town, walking you home from a dinner that was dominated by awkward silence and the clicking of utensils on plates when you'd run into your friends just as he was walking you back to the dorm. They had rounded the corner giggling and begging you to come with them. Despite your insistences for him to stay in and relax for the night at his hotel, he refused.

It meant that now you were stuck with him while all your friends got to twirl around with men that made them warm and giddy. Howard made you feel like you'd swallowed a lemon.

"I'm fine, but thank you." You force a smile.

Howard shrugs, before he walks away towards the crowded bar on the other side of the room and blessedly far away from you.

Your thoughts drifted to Ben. You missed your friend more than words could comprehend. Not just because you were far from your family in another city, but because it felt like you were missing apart of yourself when he wasn't there. You briefly wonder if he felt the same way when he wasn't with you.

Probably not.

You turn away from Howard's retreating figure, to watch the couples on the dance floor. You sway to the music, holding your arms around yourself and feeling your dark green dress swish around your ankles, one that you'd picked out yourself, not a monstrosity of pink tulle, but something that you believed accentuated the natural curves of your body that your mother used other dresses to hide. Your mouth turns down into a frown remembering how Howard had reacted to seeing you in it, when he tried to give you his jacket to cover up, but you refused.

You had wanted him to be stunned by how you looked in it, or at least, wanted someone to be. The same someone that was miles away and probably tickling the skirt of someone who caught his fancy.

"One of the most attractive men I've ever seen in my life is at the bar." Your friend Pearl stated looking behind you with wide eyes.

I've got you beat. You think to yourself to a sigh, wishing, again, that you were here with Ben instead of Howard.

"Very funny." You roll your eyes, thinking that she’s making fun of where Howard is sitting probably flagging down the bartender with both hands to catch his attention.

"I'm not talking about Howard. This guy is seriously a looker. And he's staring at you." Pearl says again.

"Sure." You continue to watch an elderly couple sway back and forth to the smooth jazz that ebbs from the band on stage.

Must be nice to be with someone for that long.

You watch how effortlessly the couple moves as one, how the man stares down at the woman with more love than you can comprehend. It makes your heart sink in your chest.

The way things were panning out, you were going to end up with Howard and you couldn't imagine looking at anyone like that other than Ben.

"You're about to see, because he's coming this way." Pearl takes a step back from you as if anticipating the stranger interrupting your conversation.

"He's not-" You begin to say, but you feel someone place their hand on the small of your back, turning you towards them.

"Fancy meeting you here." Ben smiles down at you, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

"Ben!" Your heart soars when you recognize your friend and you can't help but hug him so tight he laughs, the movement of his chuckle makes you feel alive for the first time in weeks. The sharp smell of whiskey and the familiar spicy scent of his cologne greets you.

"Guess you missed me." The rumble of his voice vibrates where your cheek rests against his chest.

"I did." You pull away from him reluctantly. "What are you doing here?" You can't help but smile at him, probably wider than what was attractive.

"Thought I'd stop by and visit on my way back to Philadelphia. Saw you walk into this place. " Ben shrugs. "What are you doing out so late?"

"Looking for trouble." You smirk.

"You found him sweetheart." Ben leans down towards you making your throat get unusually tight.

"Hi." Pearl says interrupting the conversation.

Ben turns his smug smile on her. "Hi."

"I'm Pearl." She looks from you to Ben as if trying to decide that it's okay for her to introduce yourself.

"Benjamin." You watch him slip into the cool and smooth Ben, the one that charmed whomever caught his eye.

You can't help but feel a prick of jealousy against your skin. It was familiar, but every time it happened, it didn't make any of this easier. You knew that you shouldn't be jealous, you didn't have a claim on him, you were friends, just friends, only friends, best friends…

And now you were with Howard.

You let out a soft sigh watching the way that Pearl looks up at Ben and the way he leans towards her with the confident smirk you love so much on his face.

"Would you like to dance Benjamin?" She asks.

"I would." Ben's smirk turns into a smile.

Pearl steps forward to reach for his hand, expecting him to take it, but he doesnt.

"Come on sweetheart." Ben reaches out and takes your hand, twirling you ahead of him onto the dance floor.

"Ben-" You giggle, head spinning with the movement, but when he twirls you back into his chest, you feel your breath catch. This wasn't the first time you'd been pressed up against him and it wasn't the first time you recognized how perfectly you fit together. Your soft curves molding against the hardness of his muscles as you sway back and forth to the music. When you were pressed up against him, you didn't feel like you were too big, you felt perfect, because of the way you fit against him.

"You know I am here with someone-" You say, before you get too wrapped up in how good it feels to be with him.

"Yes. Howard Stine. Though I do believe you said he stepped on your toes." Ben smiles at you, eyes twinkling in the light.

"That was four years ago, and he's… sweet?"

"Hmph." Ben rolls his eyes. "You can't even say it with a straight face sweetheart."

"I have never said anything bad about your companions."

"Missy-"

"Besides her." You frown.

He laughs at your reaction, the hand clutched in your right seems to warm with his smile. "You've never said anything about them period."

Because I hate thinking about how many of them there have been. Because I hate that you don't see me as someone who could be with you.

"I try not to dwell on your numerous escapades."

"You sound a little jealous doll." He smirks at you.

"What was that you were saying about Howard again?" You tease, holding on to his shoulders as you sway back and forth to the music.

"Can't be jealous of someone I've seen get chased by a duck." Ben's eyes trace your body for a moment. Your cheeks blush under his gaze. "You look nice. Not one of your mom's I'm guessing?"

"What makes you say that?"

"You don't look like a cupcake." He spins you away one more time before bringing you back into his chest.

"No. I think she'd probably have an aneurysm if she saw me wearing this. Howard also thought it was a bit much-"

Ben's hand tightens on your waist. "What?"

You shrug, leveling your eyes on his chest to distract yourself from his hand placement. "He tried to get me to wear his coat."

"He what?"

You shake your head to dissipate the self-doubt and body-shaming conversation that was about to unfold in your head.

"It's nothing." You raise your gaze back to his, but you're surprised to see the anger that burns behind his green eyes.

"It's not nothing. He had no right to-"

"Ben." You soothe, rubbing your thumb over his shoulder to comfort him.

The song shifts to something softer, forlorn, a song that reminded you of the heartache you felt with Ben, but also a melody that eases your soul somehow.

"I don't understand why you're with him." Ben sighs, but you can still feel the tension in his shoulders beneath your hand.

"My mother is happy-"

"But you're not." The look in his eyes is unfamiliar, almost earnest, as if he's trying to get you to understand something that he can't say.

"Ben." You breathe.

"Fine. I don't want you to think about him when we're dancing to our song anyway." The look in his eyes shifts back to the playful green they'd been before.

"Our song?" The words make your heart skip a beat and you can't help but smile at him.

You couldn't remember the last time you'd smiled this much. Probably the last time I saw him.

"Yes." Ben dips you back, before bringing you up against him, the playful look in his eyes becoming softer as you come back.

You know that your own gaze is filled with love and you remember watching the elderly couple. The way they looked at one another warming your heart as you gaze up at Ben. The three little words tiptoe against your tongue, the three little words that you'd been trying to say forever, but you can't. You don't want to lose him, don't want to live in a world without him, because you know that it won't be worth living.

So instead you lean forward and lay your head against his chest, in the space between his neck and shoulder as the song continues. You think that you feel Ben's arms tighten around you, pulling you further into his embrace, but you chock that up to wishful thinking.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" You hear someone yell, and all of a sudden someone's hand is on your wrist jerking you away from Ben.

What?

Howard is standing there his chest pushed against Ben’s, trying to look intimidating, but Howard's inability to reach Ben's shoulders made it difficult for him.

You rub your fingers over your wrist, where Howard’s bright red handprint stands out against your skin.

Ben’s eyes shift to notice your ministrations, darkening with the force of his anger at the thought that Howard hurt you.

“I think I was dancing with my girl.” Ben’s eyes narrow, skating back to Howard.

Your heart skips a beat when he says that, but you shake away the thought, knowing that Ben is only saying that to make Howard angry.

“Your girl?!” Howard sputters, his face growing red. “She’s not your girl!”

“Howie, buddy-“ Ben’s confident smirk slips over his features but you still see the anger beneath the surface. “Calm down, you’ll give yourself a heart attack.”

“Just because you think you have some claim on her because you’ve been stringing her along with the harem that usually follows you, does not make her your girl!” Howard fumes. “She’s with me.” Howard grabs your wrist again and drags you towards him.

“Hey wait a minute-“ You begin to say.

Ben grabs the front of Howard's tailored suit, rumpling the pristine fabric. “Don’t you dare touch her like that.”

“I will touch her however I damn well please! She's mine-"

The grip on your wrist is so tight that you know it’ll leave bruises. “Howard wait-“ You try again to diffuse the tension, bringing your free hand to rest on his forearm to make him let go.

“Shut up.” He snaps, eyes flashing back to you.

Ben’s temper flares and the sharp crack of his fist against Howard’s face echoes through the room. Howard stumbles away, letting go of your wrist as he reels backward to the welcoming hardwood floor that catches him when he falls.

“Don’t you ever speak to her that way you arrogant son of a bitch!” Ben shouts taking a step forward. His shoulders are tense, fists clenched at his sides and his jaw is tight, as his anger burns through the air.

By now the band has stopped playing music and all the couples around you are watching with wide eyes.

I have to do something before he kills him.

You put yourself between them, your hands firmly planted on Ben’s muscular chest so your back is to where Howard stands fuming. “Ben. Don’t.”

But he’s not looking at you, his gaze is locked with Howard’s, eyes blazing, muscles tensing beneath the palms of your hands. You try to ignore how good his chest feels beneath your touch.

Damn it.

“Ben.” You say his name again.

His eyes snap back to yours. The soft green has hardened to an emerald with the force of his rage, so different than how he looked when the two of you were dancing. But he doesn’t say anything.

“Please.” You whisper. "Stop."

Ben looks from you to Howard, before he finally exhales. “Fine.” He mutters, and he turns and vanishes into the crowd of people without another word.

A minute passes and the music begins all over again, the band on the stage starting with a lively tune that makes the couples around you to move back on to the dance floor, but the tension of what just happened remains in the air.

Because what did just happen? Did Ben do that because he was protective of me? Or did he do that because he was jealous?

Your eyes trace where he vanished, longing for him to come back, but when he doesn't appear, you're left to deal with the aftermath.

After numerous apologies to Howard, he finally relented and took you back to your dorm, leaving your group of friends at the dance hall. You knew there would definitely be a conversation about what just happened between you all when they got back, but even you were confused. Ben was always protective of you, but what happened seemed over the top. You think about how Ben called you “my girl," the way he said it sending a thrill down your spine. He’d never done that before and you wondered if it was because he wanted to get a rise out of Howard or because he believed it.

Not like he’s tried to do anything about it. You think to yourself stroking one finger against your bruised wrist. The discoloration was more prominent now, black and blue marks beginning to sprout like flowers in spring. Howard’s eye didn’t look much better when he dropped you off. You were surprised that he’d been forgiving enough to continue to see you, not that you wanted to see him, but you didn't think you could handle a letter from your mother.

Then again maybe she would pull you out of this ridiculous school.

A small tap at your window causes you to raise your head to look out the glass. Ben is sitting there, but he doesn’t smile like he usually does. Your dorm room was on the first floor, which meant that Ben didn't need to shimmy up a tree to get into it like he did when you were home. Then again this was the first time he'd showed up here and you wondered how he knew where your room was. You also weren't thrilled at his appearance because you didn't know when Pearl would come back and you weren't sure what your roommate would do if she came back and found Ben in your room. She was a stickler for the rules and despite your friendship, rooming with her was one of your least favorite things about the Dawson School For Girls.

“If they find you here I’m going to be in so much trouble.” You say helping him through the small window, putting your hand on the back of his head so that he doesn't bang it against the glass. "You might like getting kicked out of boarding schools, but I don't."

“They won’t find out.” Ben rolls his eyes. He glances at Pearl’s empty bed on the other side of the room. “Roommate not back yet?”

“No she was still dancing when I left.”

Ben frowns. “Where’s the asshole?”

“Ben-“

“What?”

“He left. And I don't exactly invite him up to where I sleep."

“Good.” Ben flexes his fist.

“How did you know which room was mine?” You ask. Ben had never come to see you before at boarding school and the fact that he was here probably meant that boarding school number ten was out.

“I might have guessed wrong.” He smirks.

“Uh-huh.” You sigh, but all you can think about is how he acted earlier. Your feet shift back and forth “Why did you hit him?”

Ben’s eyes darken. “He shouldn’t have touched you like that or said that to you.”

You stand there for a minute observing his reaction.

“He kinda deserved it." You say slowly.

You knew it was true. When Ben showed up Howard shouldn’t have lost it like he did, he definitely shouldn’t have grabbed you like that or called you his-

You stutter on that thought. But maybe he is right. I am Howard’s. We’ve been going steady… The thought of being his makes something curl up in your chest and die. There was only one man that you wanted to belong to.

"Yeah.” Ben sighs.

"Why did you call me your 'girl'?" You ask.

"Um." Ben shrugs. "Felt right in the moment."

"What?"

"I mean you are. You're my friend-"

"But that doesn't mean friend Ben." You say it gently trying to catch his eye, but Ben won't meet your gaze.

"Fine. I just wanted to mess with him a little bit." Ben frowns. "But I didn't like that he called you his, or the fact that he hurt you."

“But Ben I am his.” You whisper even though you don’t want to. “We’re going steady-“

“That doesn’t make you his!” Ben snaps, eyes flashing. “Just because he feels the need to say it doesn’t mean it’s true.”

“But Ben-“

“And I never want to hear you say it.” He continues loudly.

What is wrong with him? I've never seen him this angry about anything.

“Why?”

“Because that means he has some claim on you. You’re not his, you’re my friend.”

"You're being ridiculous. You're saying that he can't have some claim on me but you're possessively calling me your friend!" You shout back frustrated.

Why is he acting like this? Does he really hate Howard that much?

"I am not! I'm just saying that you're my friend and you're not his!"

“I can’t be both?” Your words hang in the air between the two of you and you mentally beg Ben to answer. He was acting like he wanted you to be his, like he believed that he had some claim on you and you couldn't remember another time that he'd acted this way. Sure he teased Howard, but this was more than that.

It was almost possessive and it kinda scared you how much you liked it.

Ben doesn’t answer your question. His shoulders are tense, hands clenched into fists at his sides, while something lurks behind his eyes that you can’t identify.

“Ben?” You say it like a question, ignoring the urge to press your hands against his chest like you did earlier at the dance to calm him down.

His gaze drops to your arm, where Howard grabbed you, tracing the bruises and clenching his jaw together. Ben’s right hand comes to delicately pick up your bruised wrist, running his thumb over the discolored flesh with a frown. “Does it hurt?” He rumbles changing the subject.

“No. Does that hurt?” You breathe noticing his bruised knuckles and gently probe your fingers along them.

You hated the though that he was hurt and for you, no less.

Why did he have to intervene? Why did he hit Howard?

“It was worth it.”

You both stand there for a minute, with Ben holding on to your wrist, touch surprisingly gentle.

“I just don’t like that he hurt you okay?” He mutters raising his eyes to yours. You weren't prepared for the soft look in his eyes. You expected him to still be angry over Howard, but he almost looked, worried.

“I'm okay Ben." You whisper back.

You want him to answer your question. You think again about telling him those three little words you wanted to say when you were swaying on the dance floor together but you can’t.

He nods once before he looks around the room, eyes falling on your sketchpad where it lays closed on your bed. "Got any new ones?"

You knew it was Ben's way of asking if he could stay, trying to tell you that he didn’t want to go back to Philadelphia that night, and you didn't want him to either.

"A few. If you're not too tired-"

"I’m never too tired for you."

You feel your heart beat rapidly in your chest. “Okay.”

The whole time you sit together on your bed, Ben doesn't drop your wrist, in fact he continues to brush his thumb against it while you look through your sketchbook. And in a few hours when Pearl finds you and Ben curled up in bed together, you’re not embarrassed, because deep down you’re starting to believe that Ben cared for you more than he was willing to admit.

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series, please let me know :)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303

@deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs

@bughill126

#soldier boy x you #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy/ben #the boys amazon #the boys fanfic #jensen ackles #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x y/n #the boys series #the boys tv #soldier boy fic #the boys season 3 #the boys s3

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whitexwolfxx310 · 1 year ago

Note

Hi. Request. A bucky or sebastian x fem reader. Soft wedding smut. Fluff. NO daddy or mommy kinks, for the love of God. NO! Thank you

Yes!!! I have been so excited to write something like this! I couldn't help but dive right into it! I hope you enjoy ♥️

||You're My Home||

Pairing: Bucky x female reader

Summary: Your wedding night!

Warnings: Spicy content! 18+ only! Oral sex F receiving, unprotected penetration, praise kink, FLUFFFFFFF!

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: This isn't a part of the BBWWS, but let me know what you think!

Spending the last year planning the intricate details of a wedding had you completely drained. Centerpieces, invitations, flowers… it sounds fun in theory, but was utterly exhausting.

Bucky did everything he could to be by your side every step of the way. Even the late nights when he came home from a mission to find you crying in the middle of the floor- that was littered with glue, glitter, ribbons, and card stock that was going to somehow come together to make the seating chart you had imagined in your head. He had this magic about him that would take the stress away, reminding you that the very core of all of this was your love for one another. He’d offer to help, and seeing him in all black leather covered with glitter was a sight to behold. You teased your fiancé, saying he should pitch that idea as a new uniform.

You held onto those little moments to help push you through the craziness of wedding planning. After all, the endgame was becoming Mrs. Barnes. And even though the big day got closer and closer, you never got over the sight of Bucky’s mothers ring on your finger.

But it all came together on a beautiful fall evening as you each stood at the end of a plush grass isle. That had been his one and only request- to be married outdoors in a wide open space. Bucky didn’t look when you first appeared, he was afraid. It wasn’t until the music played and Steve gave him a reassuring grip on his shoulder, did he brave a look.

He didn’t smile at first. His eyes took in every small detail; The bold white sheath dress that hugged your curves, the plunging sweetheart neckline that accented your breasts, the floral patterned lace that disappeared the further it fluttered down the dress. No, he didn’t smile. Not yet. Instead his teeth clenched and his lips slightly twitched as you started to walk towards him. Bucky’s ocean blue eyes now had a watery sheen to them, conveying just one simple word: ‘mine’.

When you were only just a few feet away from the sunflower and marigold decorated alter, he stepped forward to meet you. To hold your hand in his as you both take your last steps as each others fiancé. Standing face to face in front of a large group of people that suddenly seemed to disappear, you could only focus on the man in front of you. His pearly white teeth that gleamed as he now smiled, his eyes as bright as you’ve ever seen them, his infamous nose scrunch in excitement that made you fall in love with him in the first place, and that tanned, God-like skin that practically glowed under his all black suit. Every feature was enhanced from the too perfect watercolor sun as it started to set during your vows.

The minister hadn’t even finished the conclusion of the ceremony by saying ‘you may now kiss the bride’ before Bucky gently cupped both sides of your face and gave you the sweetest, heartfelt kiss. The beaming smiles on both of your faces almost made it impossible to press your lips together. Cheers and clapping erupted from the crowd, causing him to take you into his arms, dipping you down low as he maintained the kiss for show.

The evening was full of clinking utensils against glasses, music that had everyone dancing (even Bucky), and the ever so slightly guilty conscience you had from wasting such an amazing tasting cake by smushing it into his face. It went by so fast that it was practically a blur, and over far too soon.

Everyone sent you off in the picture perfect way; people lined up on both sides of the main entrance and held sparklers that just felt as though they were illuminating the newly married glow coming off of you both.

Driving back to the rented cabin for your wedding night was painfully slow. Bucky’s hand rested on your thigh as he drove, giving the occasional squeeze when his thumb wasn’t grazing against the soft white fabric.

Pulling into the drive, you can feel that the night has cooled. He quickly turns off the car and slightly fumbles as he runs around to open the car door for you. Holding out his hand, you take it into yours and allow him to help you out. After all, wedding dresses aren’t well known for their ability to move with you. Bucky picks you up, now holding you in traditional bridal style to bring you through the threshold. He kicks the door lightly, opening it and walking through, making you giggle as you held onto him.

“Thank you, husband.” You enunciate. He smirks, gently placing you back into your feet.

“You’re welcome, wife.” He reiterates the title also. You both laugh.

His eyes find yours, portraying the same look of adoration he has given you through the entire day, making you feel like the happiest and luckiest woman in the world. Your smile mirrored his own- but one side of your lip tugged into a smirk as you slowly started stepping backwards towards the bedroom. The faint clicking of your heels against the floor being your silent invitation.

Those sky blue eyes set ablaze, and without hesitation, he pulled at his black tie, shimmying the knot down until it was undone and fell to the floor. Bucky’s midnight black tuxedo jacket followed suit, starting to leave a trail of his clothes as he followed you into the bedroom.

He places his hands on each side of your waist and encourages you to turn around. Now with your back to him, he steps in close- the front of his body now pressing into yours. As you expose your neck, Bucky's lips kiss your collarbone, almost making you visibly shiver under his touch. He inhales deeply, as if somehow your scent has changed now that you're officially his. His lips leave small, butterfly soft kisses that trace up to your ear. Instinctively, warm fingertips trace along the lace seam on your lower back.

"You looked... so beautiful today," he breathed, as his fingers clasped the tiny zipper. "But, I would be lying if I said that I haven't been thinking about getting you out of this dress, all day." Your hips impulsively press back against his at the words. The fabric became less taut the more he pulled the zipper down.

That familiar combination of his warm and cool touch started to line your curves. Turning in Bucky's arms to face him, the dress pooled around your feet on the floor. After helping you out of the mesh layers, Bucky drops to his knees in front of you as he admires your new revealed outfit- a strapless, shortened, white flower patterned corset with a matching lace thong and garter belt to hold up thigh high stockings. Placing a firm kiss on your stomach, his head tilts up so he can look at you through hooded eyes- his lower lip still tugged down against your belly slightly.

"God, you're gorgeous. Just...perfect. And mine." The last word changed his tone from admiration to instant primal. He was back on his feet, hands already starting to roam your body. In return, you grip the collar of his dress shirt, pulling his face down closer to yours. Even in heels, you're significantly shorter than him.

"I love you, Bucky. You're everything I've ever wanted, needed, and more." You say, in a small voice- your lips so close to his that they just barely touched with each word you spoke. Not even waiting for a response, you purse your lips to his as you start to fumble with the buttons of his dress shirt.

His warm tongue skims against yours- and now you're even more impatient that his naked body isn't already on top of yours. Taking a fist full of the shirt from both sides, you pull as hard as you could- buttons flying, leaving his chest bare. Bucky's lips didn't leave yours as you pushed the shirt down his arms, letting it drop to the floor.

Stepping forward, he supports your body- laying you down on the bed. His hips press firmly between your legs, and even through his dress pants you could feel that he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him; Causing the recognizable throbbing in your lower core to make it's first appearance. His palm presses flat against your upper chest, feeling your heart as it starts to beat faster, for him.

Using his palm as guidance, his lips now trail behind his hand as it coasts lower on your body. Your sternum, beneath your ribs, your belly button, and just above your underwear. While his lips left creamy, soft kisses- the small amount of stubble on his chin tickles, causes you to wriggle slightly under his touch. You exhale all of the air out of your lungs as he plants one faint kiss on top of the thin fabric between your legs. The warmth from his breath has your body completely in his control; your back arching off the bed, aching for more of his touch.

Moving the fabric to the side, he gives one more exposed, tongue filled kiss- causing your breath to hitch. You force yourself to look down, taking the upmost gratification of seeing this man's, your man's, face between your thighs. Bucky ran his warm pointer finger through your folds, grinning with approval of how wet you already are. His ribbed tongue swirls as he licks and sucks smoothly- your hips grind softly, working with his motions.

At first your moans are sigh like and gradually turn into small whimpers. It's a small game Bucky likes to play- teasing and edging almost to the point it will drive you insane. But the orgasms that snowball through you over and over again make it so worth it. He glides over that one sweet spot that makes your entire body tense.

"Don't stop," You sigh, struggling to maintain breathing as your nails start grabbing into his full head of hair. He gives a small 'Mmm' in response, the hum from his throat practically echoing in your rib cage.

Keeping the gradual brushing of his tongue, your entire body starts to come off of the bed. Your toes point downward as you fail in remembering how to breathe- Bucky's arms tense around your thighs as you start to wriggle, holding you in place as you ride through the wave of pent up tension.

A combination of his name delicately wrapped in moans escape your mouth. Even after what seems like relentless energy waves rolling through your body, his tongue doesn't stop- but instead becomes softer and silky, twirling so gently around your extremely sensitive and swollen clit. Only once does your body shudder at each pass of his tongue does he stop.

The coolness of the air replaces where his mouth was as he kneels on the bed. Bucky pulls on his belt buckle, the metal rattling as it comes undone and gets thrown onto the floor. At some point, your thong had been ripped off. Being the skilled lover that he is, his pants are already being tugged off as he moves to hover over you. His sweet- yet salty, lips are on yours; his tongue massaging your own as you both taste yourself through the kiss.

Reaching down between your legs, you grasp and start to stroke him slowly. He breathes into the kiss at your touch and as you adjust your body underneath him. You guide the tip of him to your entrance, rubbing it maliciously slow up and down your folds to lubricate him, with you. The most delicious sound reverberates in his throat as his hips gently press forward, his silent plead. Not being able to resist much longer yourself, you start to guide him inside of you.

A unanimous moan is breathed out between the two of you as he presses in. In an attempt to make himself slick, Bucky pushes in, and then pulls out- repeating this movement until the majority of his length is inside of you. You're so tight that he can't fit in all the way just yet.

His hips rock gingerly against your own, starting off gradually as your internal walls expand to adjust around his intimidating size. The abdominal throbbing didn't stay dormant for long once Bucky found his rhythm. He breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead into your own. His breathing becomes heavier as your whimpers morph into moans- moans transform into broken 'oh's'.

This being your second orgasm makes it more intense; and Bucky knows well enough to keep his pace. Changing anything in the moment could cause him to start over again. Not that he would mind.

"Just like that," he breathes, and gently strokes your cheek. And you start to crumble all over again at the smoothness of his words. Your nails dig into his slick and muscled back for stability- your stomach re-living that rollercoaster drop feeling. The sounds coming from you are becoming shaky and high pitched. Bucky presses his lips back into yours, swallowing your sharp whines of pleasure.

He doesn't allow you time to come back down from this high; instead he repositions you both. Bucky is now slightly leaned back on his knees with you straddled on top of him, nice and close.

"One more?" He asks with a smug smile, already taking on the challenge regardless.

Your throat is so dry, your vision still semi blurred- and yet, how can I say no?

His hands grip onto your hips- your bodies forming a V. No movement involved, you can feel the incline of him in this position- with every tiny motion, his tip is going to caress against your G-spot in this alignment.

The first, slow grind makes Bucky hiss. He's deeper, you feel tighter. This isn't going to take long at all... for either of you.

Allowing his hands to guide your hips, you move along to his pattern. The combination of both internal and external stimulation already has you unable to think straight. Your body shudders a little more fiercely this time- Bucky's fingers dig into your skin more as he grunts through his breath. You can feel the pulsing, warm sensation inside as he comes- making him feel even more slick. His body convulses slightly until all that is left is excessive breathing and sticky, sweaty skin between you both.

Bucky's hands cup your face- the cold from his metal hand being more than welcome. "God, I love you." He says, then presses his lips against yours. And in this moment, you realize that every night for the rest of your lives could be like this. This intense, this passionate- forever.

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