#ceo!steve rogers x y/n

[espinosaurusrexex]

Bad Boys Don't Buy Flowers

CEO!BuckyBarnes x Female!Florist!Reader AU

read Steve's story here

summary: Bucky would have never thought, he’d be chasing after a girl. Not when all of them usually fell at his feet. But when he finds himself entangled in a deal born out of a desperate argument with his assistant, he realizes there is nothing he wouldn't do for you: The independent florist who is adamantly dragging him to the homeless shelter every chance she gets. There is just one problem: Bucky doesn't know how to tell you. And the teasing from his friends is certainly not making things easier for him...

a/n: I should be working instead of writing long ass billionaire love stores, but here we are: you and me both... happy it happened and already regretting the tasks we neglected because of it (please enjoy this wholesome piece of imagination - I know it's long, but I hope you’ll give it a try nonetheless)

word count: 16.4k 😬

warnings: play boy behavior/talk, a reader that knows what she wants, Bucky falls first (and hard 🤭), mentions of war, injuries, and death (all not applying to Bucky for once), just so much fluff, questioning life choices (angst with happy ending!), smut (this is freaking love making okay?!?!? praise and confessions, dry humping, fingering, multiple orgasms, squirting, touch starved Bucky - in a way…, sensual and beautiful, protected p in v, cock warming, and aftercare) !MINORS DNI!

ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ✶ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*･ﾟ

"Did you place the order?" Bucky leaned back in Steve's office chair and watched as his friend paced the space with a hand in his pocket. 

Steve was grinning like an idiot when the answer on the other side satisfied him and Bucky felt a tiny little spark in his chest at the sight. He'd watched his best friend go through life with a default tension in his shoulders for what seemed like forever. All until he found Bambi - a sweet and incredibly clumsy woman who was formerly his maid. But they found each other and Steve had been a happier man ever since.

Bucky was happy for him, too. He was a lot more fun to be around ever since, but it did remind him that Bucky himself had yet to find the one that would make his heart beat faster. 

It was a ridiculous idea, of course. Bucky was never the one for relationships or long-term commitment in the romantic department. To be honest, he wasn't even sure he was capable of love - not that he needed it, anyway. He had no problem with having a new plaything every other night. It was fun and kept him on his toes. 

"Perfect. Okay. Thanks, Sharon." Bucky sat up straighter in the chair. "Yeah, next Friday. See you later."

Steve sighed as he slumped on the sofa across the room. He watched the ceiling, looking like a love-drunk schoolboy, even though he tried so hard to conceal it. Bucky knew him too well.

"Dinner is booked.”

“You’re really doing it huh?"

“Yup." There was no doubt in Steve’s answer, but rather a special kind of excitement Bucky rarely felt.

The brunette just nodded as he looked to the ground, the chair swaying as he pushed his knees from one side to the other. 

Steve just grinned in response. "So when are you gonna let me help you find the one?"

Bucky perked up, amusement seeping through his gaze when he answered his best friend. ”Me? No no. I’m fine."

Steve shrugged. ”You know, that’s exactly what I said about a year ago."

"No offense, Stevie, but you and I were in vastly different sex universes back then. I’m getting laid - I’m aaaaall good." He leaned back with a smug grin and Steve just frowned in response. "You can be as happy as you want but don’t start trying to get everyone on the girlfriend train. That’s a Rogers and Wilson thing. I don’t need that type of commitment."

Steve remained silent as he watched Bucky stand up and head for the door, a thoughtful look on his face when his friend passed him. 

“Look, I’m happy for you, truly. I just don’t see myself in that type of life.” Bucky’s hand squeezed Steve’s shoulder just as the blonde cocked his head to the side. 

“Never?”

Bucky winked at him. “You know I like to live in the present. But speaking of the future... You’re still up for tomorrow night, right?”

“Tomorrow night?"

"Ironbar."

Steve’s eyes widened. ”Shit. No, I promised Bambi we'd-" Steve stopped when he saw Bucky's eyebrows raise in amusement. “...next time."

Bucky sighed in defeat. "Tell her to leave some Steve time for the rest of us, will ya?" And with a laugh of Steve’s, he shut the office door, walked past Sharon’s desk, then Natasha’s, and then into his own office.

❁ ❁ ❁

The clock hand barely struck 8am when another set of files hit Bucky’s desk. 

Bucky huffed as he watched Natasha stand before him with an amused smile, her hands on her hips that were hugged by a tight pencil skirt. “Looking for something, Boss?”

“No...”

“Something like... the invitation to that business dinner on Thursday?” She mused and carefully pulled a piece of paper from the stack between them. 

Bucky snatched it with a glare. “It would be much more helpful if you sorted this chaos rather than stand here and be a smartass.” He looked at the invite, the familiar company logo printed in the top right corner. “And why are people even sending paper invites anymore? We’re a security firm,” he sat the paper down and tapped on it with his index finger, “just shows how desperately they need consulting.” 

“Don’t blame me for it.” Nat threw her hands in the air. “And stop complaining. I know you’re the cyber guy but a couple papers shouldn’t faze you. I’ve got more important things to do that don’t particularly fall in your area of expertise.” She turned to leave but Bucky stopped her before her heels could reach the threshold. 

“Are you saying your job is harder than mine?” Bucky watched the mess on his desk, then the computer screen with his calendar and the impending meeting with those jackasses from Hydra Enterprises. There was no way sorting a couple of papers could be worse than Alexander Pierce and his nephew Brock Rumlow. One of them barely knew how to send an E-mail and the other kept subtly asking if it was legal to install cameras in the lady’s room. 

“If you’re referring to your inability to sort a couple files, then yes, I assume you wouldn’t last a day with my tasks.” 

“Now that’s bullshit.”

“Is it now?” She raised her left eyebrow with a half-smirk. “I want to see you deal with idiots when scheduling appointments and keeping everyone’s day structured while also organizing the annual fundraiser.”

Bucky huffed, leaning back and crossing his arms before his chest. He averted his eyes from his assistant and the stupid pile of paperwork in front of him. He really did not want to sort through all of that. 

“Call me old fashioned but I believe assistants should sort files.” He shrugged, knowing Natasha wouldn’t let him off that easily. They had been working together for years, he respected her as much as his other friends. And presenting the fierce redhead with a challenge to get out of some annoying tasks was something he would gladly do. 

“I’ll tell you what. I will sort your papers in my assistant duties.” She made a mockery curtsy - as much as her skirt allowed - and then lifted her finger before the smile could spread on Bucky’s face. “If... you plan the charity event.”

Bucky was shocked. He didn’t expect her to play dirty - well to be fair, it wouldn’t be Nat if she weren’t teasing a little bit - but still. “You think you can handle that, boss?” 

Bucky closed his mouth and eyed her suspiciously. It couldn’t be that hard to do. And certainly would be a nice distraction from the impending meeting of doom as well as the following consulting sessions. He let his head fall back and stared at the ceiling. 

Was he really going to trade some papers for a whole Gala? That paperwork really sucked. He loved how easily he could wash through files on his computer. Sadly, his programs didn’t help much in the analog part of the job. 

“Are you backing down, Barnes?” Nat’s teasing voice rang through to him and he snapped back into his attitude. 

“Never.” He stood up, fixed his suit, and then reached his hand toward her. Natasha shook it with an evil smirk. “Always a pleasure doing business with you, Ms. Romanoff.”

And with that, she took the papers from Bucky’s desk and carried them out of his office with a triumphant smile. 

❁ ❁ ❁

It wasn’t long before Bucky regretted his decision. 

What had he been thinking? A Fundraiser... a fucking fundraiser. Bucky couldn’t care less about them. 

Okay, that wasn’t true. He deemed charity to be a very important part of society... and economy. There were times in his life when he was close to needing their help as well. And Bucky swore he’d never let that aspect of his story slip from his mind ever. Still, it didn’t prevent him from living lavishly and making use of the things he had access to now. 

Usually, the organization of the charity gala was stuck on Nat and Sharon. Mainly because they had always done an amazing job. The tabloids had only positive things to write about it and always pushed the number before Christmas even higher. Which urged Bucky even more to do just as good of a job this year. 

There was just one problem. 

He had no idea how to organize events this size. Bucky could program a software from scratch, hack into classified state files on a bad day. Hell, he could track every person’s phone in New York in his sleep. But he never expected to be overwhelmed by a couple invites and color palettes. 

Though as little as he knew about his new task, he liked a challenge, and he would most certainly not give Natasha the satisfaction of asking her for a checklist. 

So, the internet had to do for now. He’d found a blog by a highly motivated suburban mom, that led with step-by-step instructions on how to plan the perfect event. It might not have been on the scale of what Bucky had to do, but considering his lack of knowledge on the topic, he figured this would do until Natasha snatched the task away from him again. 

The first thing on the list was to find a date and venue. But since the gala of Shield Protection Services was always held at the same venue, Bucky figured they had booked it indefinitely for the event. 

Next was to find the perfect florist that ‘is able to put your vision into extravagant floral arrangements’. Yeah... that was another problem. 

Bucky didn’t buy flowers. The only women he deemed important enough in his life to get them were his sister and his mother. And well, both of them had passed away. So, picking the right flowers hadn’t been a problem until now. His mother and sister were always enchanted by the bouquets they received when Bucky was younger. He’d steal them from their neighbor‘s garden. But since he could grow a beard, Bucky hadn’t even touched flowers anymore.

Well, that had to change now. 

Bucky stepped into the elevator just to be greeted by big round eyes and an even wider smile. “Paying Steve a visit?” Bucky teased with a half smile as he hugged Bambi and then faced the doors. 

“I’m actually meeting Natasha for lunch,” she shifted from one foot to the other, “I didn’t realize she was already at the restaurant... so that’s where I’m headed now.”

Bucky chuckled at her slight awkwardness. But it wouldn’t be Bambi if she wouldn’t miss such a detail. 

“Do you need a ride? My driver’s waiting for me anyway.”

“Tha- yes that would be nice, thank you.”

Bucky just nodded and gestured for her to lead the way when they reached the ground floor. 

“Where are you going?” Bambi asked as he stared out the window of the car. They had told the driver where they needed to go. And Since Bucky had no particular destination in mind, it worked out well. 

“I’m on the hunt for the perfect flower shop to cater to my vision of our charity event.” He chuckled and shook his head at his own words. He’s never thought he’d say this.  

Her eyes peered at him with intrigue, a glimmer washing over them when she asked: “Are you taking suggestions?”

Bucky sat up straighter now. “Uh, yes. Gladly.” This was easier than he thought. 

“There is this wonderful shop in Brooklyn. It’s called AsGarden on 18th Avenue. You can’t miss it, it’s like a breath of fresh air between all those ugly beige buildings. The woman owning it has great taste, she managed to make the perfect bouquet for me without ever seeing me.” She turned forward, a little flustered, “Steve gets me flowers from there sometimes, they’re my favorite.”

“Did you hear that, Stan?” A victorious smile spread on Bucky’s face as he squeezed Bambi’s shoulder. “Next stop is Brooklyn.”

“Alright, Sir.”

“You don’t know how much easier you just made my life.” Bucky leaned forward and kissed her cheek before the car came to a stop and he bid her goodbye. 

“I’m glad I could help.” She waved back and then headed into the restaurant. 

Maybe the event wasn’t so difficult after all, Bucky thought as he leaned back in his seat, his legs spreading in satisfaction.

❁ ❁ ❁

The cool air snook through your shop when the familiar bell of a customer chimed above the door. You’d seen many people frequent your shop daily. Women, men, teenagers, elderly. All came from different backgrounds and varying stories in their repertoire. Your store was in the heart of Brooklyn - a bunch of people mixed in this town. And you’d made it your mission to find the perfect flower arrangement for each and every one of them. 

The man who had set off your little bell this afternoon was different though. A perfectly tailored coat adorned his broad shoulders. The way his hands were tucked in his pockets revealed the expensive-looking suit beneath as well as the toned chest that hid beneath the button-up in vain. His presence oozed money as he sashayed through your shop, carefully grazing delicate pedals with the aura he brought in. 

He seemed to own the world, but something about him just didn’t fit between the colorful flowers surrounding him. If you didn’t know any better, he looked a little lost, eyes glassy as they swayed through the sea of colors and shapes soaking in fresh water. 

“Good afternoon, sir. Can I help you?”

He ripped around, fixed his posture, and approached the cash desk. When his eyes landed on you, he froze. Just for a second, however, and then his jaw snapped into a handsome smile as he leaned forward. 

“I sure hope so.” His white teeth flashed between his lips before his tongue stroked over them. It was capturing. “This flower shop has been recommended to me. You wouldn’t happen to be the owner?”

“Well actually, I am,” you smiled hiding the pride swelling in your chest from the comment.

“Great. What is your capacity when it comes to event arrangements?”

“That depends...” You smiled as the handsome stranger raised his eyebrows in intrigue. “I reckon we have vastly different understandings of what is small and... big.” Your eyes wandered over his expensive coat again. The innuendo was accidental, really, but he seemed to be amused nevertheless. 

“My company is hosting its annual charity event in November... at The Glasshouse.”

“So just as I suspected...” You nodded and strode past him towards the fall flowers.

“Pardon me?”

You turned your head towards him and winked. “Bigger than I thought.”

“So?” He approached you with his hands still in his coat pockets and peeked over your shoulder. “Can you do it?”

“Totally.” Then you gestured to the flowers. “Do you have any preferences? I don’t have all the flowers in yet, but I recommend going with some soft orange and sage tones... to cater to the season.”

“Forgive me, sweetheart, but I am useless when it comes to this kind of stuff. My qualities lie more in the technical aspect of things.” A hand ran through his thick dark hair and the gesture made him look boyish.

“Alright let me rephrase my question then: Do you trust me?” A sly smile sneaked on his face, matching yours. 

He tipped his head. “My life is in your hands.” 

“Good. Then please write down your details here.” You pushed a form over the counter once you reached it again, and the man just followed you around like a lost dog. You watched as his hand swiftly filled out the free spaces on the paper, curious which company he had been referring to. 

“Wait you’re working for SPS?” 

“I own it, sweetheart.” The man adjusted his coat as you tried to look unimpressed. “My name is James Barnes, but you can call me Bucky.” His hand extended over the shiny countertop until it encased your smaller fingers and his warmth seeped through your body. 

Bucky’s smile brightened when you revealed your name to him, telling you how beautiful it was, and you began to struggle not to show the effects it had on you. Then he resumed filling out the order and slid it over to you again. 

“What cause are you raising money for this year?” You asked as you sorted the paper into your books, only to be surprised when Bucky seemed a little nervous all of a sudden. 

You knew Shield Protection Services was a pristine company with reach to people whose powers you could barely comprehend. Whatever they were choosing, it would have a big impact on the change their chosen organization was advocating. 

“Well, to be honest... we haven’t decided yet.” A silly idea hushed through your head at that, but you dismissed it. A company such as Bucky’s would raise sums only big fish could handle. There wasn’t space for the things you had in mind. 

“I hope you’ll do so soon, then.” You nodded thoughtfully and ended with a tight-lipped smile. 

Bucky nodded and smiled, then turned around and headed for the door. But before he could open it, he came back again. You looked up to see a black card held before you. 

“I’d be happy for suggestions... if you have any in mind.” He shrugged with that cheeky look of his and then left. And you just stood there, dumbfounded, and toying with the ridiculous idea that Bucky Barnes might actually be able to read minds. 

❁ ❁ ❁

“Rogers really couldn’t make it?” Tony asked as he leaned back in the leather booth of his very own establishment. He tipped his emptied whiskey glass towards the slender redhead at the bar and smiled as she rushed to get his refill ready. 

“He promised Bambi to be home...” Bucky trailed off as he watched a customer hit on the waitress - Tiffany he remembered - A pretty thing, but unfortunately incredibly hollow when it came to conversation... not that Bucky looked for anything like it.  

Tony huffed. “That woman has him wrapped around her finger!” He liked Bambi, everyone did, he just missed hanging out with his guys. 

“Just wait until you find the one, Tony,” Sam chimed in with a sly smirk on his face - a hopeful, yet cautious hint as Sam secretly loved the idea of all his friends finally finding the one. He was a romantic, Bucky knew it, even if Sam never actually said it. 

“Me? I would never give up my glorious bachelor life for one woman. There are way too many things to explore...”

“Mark my words, Stark. We’ll look back to this day and laugh about this incredibly jackassy statement. You, too will be finding the one. I just know it.”

Bucky chuckled and tipped his glass on the Table as the bickering of his friends faded into background noise. For some reason, he didn’t feel like adding to the conversation. He blamed it on the banality of a conversation both he and Tony had long decided on, but perhaps, it was because for once in his life, he considered taking Sam’s side on the topic. 

It was ridiculous, really, how fast you’d occupied his mind when it came to Sam’s comment about finding ‘the one’. He didn’t even know you aside from the ‘background check’ he conducted after his visit to your shop. That might have covered your personal details, but he still didn’t know if you were a dog person or preferred cats, or if you were vegan or vegetarian, or if you considered kids in your future. 

Bucky cleared his throat and sat up straighter when he felt the fluster creep up his neck. What the hell was happening to him? He wasn’t like this at all. Women occupied his mind for about as long as it took for him to make them come undone in his hands. When he was with them, his full attention was on them - he loved them - but he’d never let them control his life. James “Bucky” Barnes never even considered seeing them twice, let alone thinking about a future with them. 

Though, to Bucky’s displeasure - or pleasure (he hadn’t decided yet) - the thought of seeing you again wasn’t uncomfortable to him. On the contrary, he got a weird tingly feeling in his stomach when he remembered the smell of the flowers in your shop and how your delicate fingers carefully picked out the prettiest ones. Bucky sat his drink down with a clink. Maybe he’d had enough alcohol for tonight.

“Barnes, how come you’re not defending me here? Have you grown soft or something? Do you have a girl we don’t know about?” Tony’s nagging broke through to Bucky and the whole bar reached back into his consciousness.

“Sorry, what?” He stuttered, shaking his thought and trying to find a good answer to his friend’s remark. “I was distracted by Betty.” Bucky smiled sheepishly as he received a clap on his shoulder. 

“That’s my man.” Tony grinned and Sam huffed into his whiskey. And Bucky? He just sunk into his seat, feeling somehow shameful for the white lie he had made up.

❁ ❁ ❁

The SPS office was impressive. Amongst the old New York brick building surrounding it, it reached up into the sky with its glass front everything. But you wouldn’t be fooled by its fragile looks. This was one of the most secure buildings in the city. You’d read about it in an article some time back - the whole hype about the company was their way of making fragile-looking things indestructible. You couldn’t see through the “windows” from the outside. And you wouldn’t be able to launch a rocket through it either. SPS had patented their stronger-than-steel-glass years ago, making them the leading security company in the world. 

To say you had been a little surprised to see the very owner of said company on your side of town would be an understatement. But besides his incredibly adamant way of flirting, he was quite normal to talk to. He’d even asked you for advice on the cause they should donate to this year. And after having thought about it for the better part of what should have been your sleep time, you had decided to just try and pitch your idea. 

“Do you have an appointment Ms.?” A stunning redhead peered up at you from her desk, her nails clicked on the keyboard of her computer as she waited for your answer. You didn’t really know why you thought getting to Bucky was going to be easy. The security guard had already eyed you suspiciously at the front desk in the lobby. After you’d smiled at him as charmingly as you could, he’d decided to let you be someone else’s problem today - or maybe he just didn’t see you as a threat - whatever it was, it had gotten you this far. But what were you gonna say now?

Actually, I don’t have an appointment, but Mr Barnes met me yesterday and after thinking about him all night, I decided to pay him a visit today.

Yeah, that wouldn’t cut it. Not in this office. The redhead - N. Romanoff - was what her sign said, made that fairly clear with the way her lips pursed at the opened calendar on the screen. 

“You don’t happen to have to discuss something not suited for work with Mr. Barnes, do you? I know he tends to leave some of his meetings... open-ended.” 

Your eyes got wide. “God, no. I’m not-“ Your hands made a swishing motion between you two and then you took a breath. “I’m here to discuss business. Purely business. Mr. Barnes has made an order at my shop for the company fundraiser and I just want to discuss some details.” 

Her eyes glimmered when her lips pulled into a smile. “Did he now?” She peered over to catch the look of the blonde assistant a few feet next to her and then back to you. “Well if that is the case, please have a seat, I’ll tell him you’re here.” And with that, she got up, winked, and wrapped at the large wooden door presumably leading to Bucky’s office. 

She came back a minute later and gestured for you to enter. “Lucky for you, his meeting just got canceled, so you should have enough time.”

“Thank you.” And then Ms. Romanoff went back to her desk and started whispering to the blonde assistant. 

Bucky sat behind his desk, a sleek glass surface lightly cluttered with papers. Other than that, the room felt cool, the large rug by the seating area did little to cover the marbled floors. You stepped inside just as Bucky called out your name. You almost didn't see the wide smile on his face as the rising sun hung low on the horizon behind him, casting a halo-like glow around his silhouette. What a freaking entrance. Though Bucky surely couldn’t control the sun, you thought with a small smile, you really had to stop imagining this man was extraordinary. 

“You’re here.” He got up and walked towards you, his sleek back shoes echoing on the ground. And then he was next to you, leading you to the seat in front of his desk with his hand on the small of your back. “What brings me the honor of your visit, darling.”

He leaned on his desk with his arms crossed, a pleasant smile on his lips. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice that you came by, but you do have my number, don’t you?”

“I do.” You cleared your throat, trying to sound as convincing as possible. “I was hoping you had some time to spare, actually. I find the phone to be a little... impersonal.”

Bucky’s eyes shined with intrigue as he leaned forward, pinning you to the chair with his gaze. He licked his lips. “Show me what exactly?”

“You’ll see.” You smirked. “I happen to know that your next meeting just got canceled.”

Bucky got even closer, his breath hitting your neck with every word he spoke. “And I’ll gladly cancel the rest, too.” A shiver shot over your arms, his cologne seemingly intoxicating you. But before you could respond, he backed up, grabbing his coat and gesturing towards the door. “Lead the way.” 

And so you did. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky was suspicious when you pulled him into the subway, but he decided against saying something. He had told you he trusted you after all, and though Bucky considered himself a lot of things, a flake was not one of them. So he let it happen. 

It wasn’t half bad, either. Somewhere between his office door and the train, you had taken his hand in yours to pull him along faster. Bucky had noticed his lips spreading into a smile. It didn't last long, unfortunately. Because as he had made eye contact with an elderly lady who had then proceeded to tell you what a beautiful couple you were, you had pulled your hand away with an awkward laugh. 

‘Oh, God, no, we’re not together, ma’am.’ 

Admittedly, Bucky felt a little sting in his chest ever since. In fact, he was rubbing his hand over his shirt at this very moment. You were walking along a street in Brooklyn, not too far from your shop. The neighborhood was a little more run-down than he was used to, certainly nothing like the part of town he lived in. But he kept quiet still. Maybe he was a little butthurt from your earlier aversion about the couple comment, but to be fair, Bucky wasn’t used to women denying him - except Nat. 

You suddenly stopped, making Bucky almost run into you and then stare at you in question. But when you gestured towards the sign above the two-story building, his gaze softened. 

There, above the blue-painted metal doors, hung a faded sign. Bucky could make out the orange and yellow stripes on the board, a big Sunflower painted in the middle of it all. ‘Sunflower -Shelter & Food’.

“Hey, are you coming or are you glued to the ground?” Your voice rang from the entrance, he hadn’t even noticed that you already moved inside. 

Bucky gulped when his eyes swayed back to you and then down his own body. If he was going to step in there in the outfit he was currently wearing, he would look like the biggest asshole on the planet. 

“I can’t go in there.”

“Why not?”

He just gestured towards his clothes, his Rolex glinting in the sunlight for good measure. But there was no reaction from you. You stood in the doorway, pursing your lips seemingly in thought, and then shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. “I guess you’ll just have to deal with it then.”

“What?” He called your name. But when he realized you weren’t joking, he caught up to you as fast as possible. Because the only thing worse than showing up there looking like he did was doing it alone, he decided swiftly. 

“‘Think now might be a good time to mention that this is not a very good place for a date,” Bucky mumbled next to you before closing his coat, trying to hide the even more expensive suit beneath. 

“How would you know?” You turned to him. “This isn’t a date, is it?”

Bucky just smirked and then he watched you greet a young boy with a warm hug, and man he imagined what it would be like to have you hug him like that. 

“Peter this is Bucky, Bucky, Peter.” You pulled him towards you by his hand again. “I brought him along to help today, thought we always need an extra pair of hands around here.”

“Pleasure to meet you, sir.” Peter reached his hand out, slightly frowning when he took in his appearance but did not say anything. “Any help is always welcome here. Come, I’ll show you what we’re doing today.” 

Within ten minutes, Bucky had an apron and gloves on and was ordered to cut the biggest stack of potatoes he’d ever seen. You were happily chatting away with the other helpers and Bucky, for the first time in a long time, felt ...normal. 

Nobody was recognizing him in the crowd, there was no talk about business and investments, and there were no fucking cameras. Here, people recognized him for what he came to do, help. And it felt weird. Bucky wasn’t quiet about his lavish lifestyle around his crowds. He knew the privilege he had, and he had worked for it enough to be proud of it. But it was like he had entered a different universe in this part of town. All the things he deemed normal, were things so far from imagination here, they were left out of conversations entirely. So, he tried to remember this whenever he was offered a conversation. 

“You do this every day?” He asked into the kitchen while struggling to peel his 5th potato. 

“Whenever we can.” An older woman answered with a smile. She was the one who had shown him how to use the peeler faster. “They are people just like you and me. They have to eat every day, too, Bucky.”

Bucky just nodded in silence at the humbling answer, his cheeks felt hot with embarrassment at how naive he had been. 

Two hours later, he was standing by your side at the serving station, plating mashed potatoes and the accommodating ‘you’re welcome’ every once in a while. He rarely was out of his comfort zone, like today. But he also knew that, whenever he felt unsure, he’d look at you and you’d gift him an encouraging gesture that kept him going a little while longer. 

After everyone had their food, you gave Bucky a tour of the premises. 

There was a small courtyard, a couple rooms with telephones and a computer, some sofas and pillows. Nothing fancy but functional nonetheless. You led him through every room, explaining curtly what it was for and then you led him up the stairs.

On your way up, you passed Peter, who was helping a child find its toy and Bucky felt a lump form in his throat at all the new impressions he was fed today.

He cleared his throat. “Peter... is he?”

You shook your head. “Not exactly. His parents died when he was quite young. Lucky for him, though, he has always been a bright kid. He got a scholarship for every school he ever went to. But he spends most of his free time here. He has this urge to help wherever he can. Took me a couple months to keep him from skipping his lectures.” You chuckled and led him through the next door. 

Bucky nodded with adoration. Not many people dedicated their time to something that would not benefit them directly. And while Bucky knew what a dedicated mind was capable of, he had to admit that his efforts were always motivated by personal gain. 

“He’s very admirable for that.” 

You just hummed in response. “I don’t think he chose it himself. Not that I think he wouldn’t. But this shelter belonged to his uncle and aunt. They died when he was in high school. He’s working hard to keep this place alive. As do we all.”

The next room you entered was resembling a classroom. “What happens here?”

“Most of the children are registered for the public school of this district. But they don’t always make it there. This room gives them the opportunity to catch up on missed work. We also have adult classes here, preparing for job interviews and such.”

The next hallway presented doors, all leading to bedrooms, as you explained to Bucky when you walked through the corridor. The last door was larger than the others - a double swing leading to a big sanitary area. Showers, toilets, and sinks lined the walls - all run down but functional. 

“This place could use some serious renovating,” Bucky mumbled, but he was sure you had heard him. Because you looked up at him now, a sad smile decorating your beautiful face. 

“We try to make it as clean and cozy as possible here, but we just don’t have the necessary financial means for it. It works for now. The people coming here need very little. But it’s only a matter of time until the roof needs redoing or the pipes or the windows, or the-“

“Yeah...” Bucky trailed off, making you stop and giving him a break to breathe. He usually wasn’t surrounded by people unable to get out of unfortunate situations. The clients he spent his time with ordered his services to protect the material things they’d bought for status and fun. It was something entirely different when you were robbed of your place to sleep. 

“Well, this completes my humble tour.” You clasped your hands together and proceeded to look at your watch. “I think it’s time to go home.”

You descended the stairs in silence, Peter hugged Bucky goodbye and when he stepped foot back on the sidewalk, Bucky turned around to the sign once more. You stood beneath it, leaning against the doorframe and smiling at him. It was dark out now. 

“Are you not coming?” He asked watching as you shook your head. 

“Peter has an exam tomorrow. I offered to stay the night.”

“Here? Alone?”

“Yes.” 

Bucky stepped towards you again. “Then I’m go-“

“Stop.” Your hand reached for his shoulder, the touch sending him straight back to a haze. “Don’t do this. I know how you feel. There’s this sadness inside you now. You saw this for the first time. It feels awful - I know.” You retracted your hand and pushed yourself off the doorframe. “But until you don’t see anything other than pity for these people, you can’t be here without breaking.”

“Doll...”

“Bucky, I'm serious. Go home. Sleep on it. Try to understand the situation.” 

Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this helpless. He just stared at you, unable to move or say anything. He didn’t like the idea of you staying here alone at night. And though the feeling of caring for someone he’d only known for two days so much scared him, he pushed it aside. 

You leaned forward and hugged him goodbye and then the cold night surrounded him again. “Thank you for trusting me today.” And then you turned around and left him standing outside alone. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Your purple-inked pen marked the date in your calendar. 

“That’s an unusually big order, Steve...” You looked up at the blonde frequenting your shop every so often. He’d always get the pink carnations for his girlfriend. Apparently, she loved them after you bound them in the first bouquet you ever sold to Steve. He was a simple man, you could tell, so his usual orders were just as such. But not today. “Are you planning anything special?”

The handsome customer blushed with an innocent smile. “Actually...” He scratched the back of his neck. “I’m planning to propose.” He looked so sheepish when you clasped your hands in excitement.

“Oh, that’s amazing. Congratulations!”

“Well not yet.” He cleared his throat, visibly trying to compose himself. But this giant pretty man in front of you was adorably nervous. 

“I just know she’ll say yes,” you mused and made a note to reserve some more carnations for his order - a couple simple arrangements that held so much meaning.

“How do you know?”

You watched Steve peer over to you with hopeful eyes. “It’s not every day a man puts so much effort and thought into what bouquet to get his girlfriend on a casual Monday evening each week.” You winked and Steve nodded lost in thought. 

“To be honest, I haven’t even thought about her saying no. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

“You shouldn’t worry too much. You are a good man, everyone can see that. And just to be sure, I’ll make the most perfect flowers ever. Paired with your charming ways, there will be no other option but to say yes.”

He relaxed a little. “Great. Thank you.” And then he turned to leave your shop. 

“I’ll have them ready by Friday.” You smiled. 

“Thank you... so much.” Steve smiled and you knew there was so much more hidden in his gesture.

❁ ❁ ❁

It had become a habit that Bucky visited the shelter with you once a week. Admittedly, you were surprised he even cared enough to free his schedule so religiously. But as of the past four weeks, he had shown up at your shop, walked with you to Sunflower shelters, mingled with the people, and then even walked you home. 

It was actually kind of refreshing, seeing him so invested and kind of protective. There weren’t many guys in the city that cared enough to get you home safely. Peter offered more times than often, but you rather knew him safe at the shelter than try to fight a gangster double his size out of the kindness of his heart and the deep wish to somehow become a superhero one day.

So Bucky had to do it for now. Not that you were complaining. He was handsome and charming and interesting to converse with given the vastly different lives you lived. But he tried to adapt. Ever since the incident on the first day, he had even tried to wear less wealth-telling clothing, though he seemed to not always hit the mark just right. 

In a way, bucky was a little fashion icon. You’d noticed it in his colorful waistcoats, the intricate details on his shoes, or the fancy cufflinks adorning his oxford-cotton shirts. He tried to dress down. But to your surprise, the color remained. Instead of waistcoats and dress shirts, he wore regular t-shirts. His confidence never wavered.  

A little smile hushed across your face every time you looked at him. The pink shirt he wore combined with the green apron he had been given, made him look like a lollipop. A Beautiful one, that was. With a dashing smile and an adorable frown as he tried to separate the peas from the pod. 

“So... how is the gala coming along?” You teased him a little having noticed how unusual this task was for him. Throughout your few meetings, you had gotten to know Bucky quite well. And apart from his statement the very day he stepped foot into your shop, he revealed to you more and more how difficult the project was for him.

“Let’s just say I’m glad I can count on the flower arrangements,” he grumbles as a pea slipped from his fingers and across the table. 

“That bad, huh?”

His hands stopped working. “The Band canceled on me again and I seem to run after every other arrangement I have made so far. If I had known how much work-“ he huffed and then shook his head with an even deeper frown. 

“Hey, it’s okay to not be good at everything.” You encouraged him, your elbow nudging his side as you smiled lightly. “There has got to be something humbling you. Makes you seem more human.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I meant to ask you...” You picked up your task to avoid his eyes that were suddenly on you again. “How come you’re the one organizing the gala?”

Bucky chuckled, his head shaking for what seemed like the hundredth time today. “I made a deal with my assistant.” 

“What was in it for you?” You threw a couple peas in the strainer and Bucky did the same.

He shrugged. “I got to hand off some paperwork.”

Wow. “Seriously? A bit of paperwork seems like a poor trade for months of organizing something so important.”

Bucky laughed, the sound warming your stomach from the inside out and finally making you look at him again. It was little moments like this in which he felt so careless and relaxed. You liked to believe the shelter did it to him, or maybe even you. But primarily, you were glad he laid off his work self just then. “Yeah it might have not been my smartest move... but I don’t mind it really.”

“Why’s that?” Your eyes locked and you suddenly became very aware of how close the two of you were standing. 

“If it weren’t for the deal, I would have never met you.” There was something so honest and pure about the way he had stated this so plainly. And for a moment, you liked to forget that he might have just meant your suggestion to donate to Sunflower. That maybe, the funny fluttery feeling in your stomach wasn’t one-sided, and that you too meant something greater to him than the coincidences that led him into your shop that day. 

A wide smile spread on Bucky’s face and then he winked. He freaking winked at you. And while you turned back to your peas, desperate to hide the fluster on your face, you had to remind yourself that this was Bucky fucking Barnes and that he knew what he was doing.

About two hours later, you sat amongst the people currently living at the shelter, sharing the meal you had prepared for them with the hopes of getting them through another day. You and Bucky were sitting with Gabe Jones, a veteran whose post-traumatic stress disorder had cost him everything after the Vietnam War. He was always telling stories of his time on the front - a way to cope with his horrible past. By now, you and Peter had probably heard every single one of his stories twice. But Bucky was on the edge of his seat. Listening with intrigue as the food on his plate remained untouched. 

“It was ’68 when I was sent out. There were soldiers who done already survived a year or so at the front. And, son, I am sayin’ survived ‘cause you couldn’t call that livin’.” Gabe shook his head before pointing his fork to his shoulder. “Caught a grenade in ’69 and on our way to camp, they shot at the helicopter. Lost my right arm and comrade that day. The damn arm’s gone but I’m gon’ have the memory forever.”

The words didn’t seem to affect the veteran anymore, but they never failed to leave their recipients shocked and wondering. It was always the same question: How can someone fight for a country, leave their life for a country, and end up here?

And honestly? You didn’t know. 

“I’m so sorry, sir.” Bucky swallowed as his eyes fled over to yours. “Thank you for your service.”

“Notin’ to be sorry ‘bout.” Gabe waved his hand and then pointed at Bucky’s plate. “You eatin’ that?” 

Bucky just shook his head and pushed his plate towards Gabe, a somber state overtaking his body. You did feel a little bad. But you also knew that Gabe wasn’t affected by sympathies and that he was happy at Sunflower - though he preferred the street over the beds here. While he had spent just another day existing, he had simultaneously opened Bucky’s eyes to the severity of making stories like his more known. 

By now you were pretty confident, Bucky would choose the homeless as recipients for his company’s fundraiser sum. But he surprised you by getting involved with the people here over and over again, willing to learn and to understand. 

The walk to your apartment building that evening was awfully quiet. Bucky had insisted he walk on the street side of the sidewalk, buried his hands in his coat pockets, and shut up ever since.

You knew he was contemplating, letting the day play on repeat in his mind. He probably had a lot of questions, a lot of frustration, and worry. Nothing unfamiliar to you, but something you’d learned to deal with ever since helping out at Sunflower. 

“Don’t feel bad,” you said when you stopped in front of the familiar brick building you called home. 

“How?”

“Feeling bad isn’t helping them. You have the power to change things.” It was an awfully dry response, but the truth hurt sometimes. 

Bucky just looked at you through hooded eyes, a knowing nod shaking his features as he watched slowly take a step back toward your front door. 

“Thank you,” he suddenly released - steady and calm. “For taking me. For helping me see...” 

You couldn’t help yourself. The confession overwhelmed you. Knowing you had succeeded in showing him what was so important to you overwhelmed you. You leaped forward and slung your arms around him, pressing tightly into his chest. 

Bucky’s arms found their way around you in an instant, the hug conveying so much more than just a goodbye. It was a ‘thank you’ a ‘this means the world to me’.

After about a minute, you leaned up to him and placed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m also glad you took the deal, Bucky.” You whispered into his ear, feeling the smile on his face on your cheek. 

When he finally released you, it seemed like the spell was gone. Bucky was back to burying his hands in his pockets, only the faint remnants of a smile hinting towards your earlier interaction. You hadn’t realized how much this would affect him. You had forgotten how long you fought with yourself until you could act normal around the people at Sunflower yourself. 

“Do you want to come up?” You threw your thumb over your shoulder at the entrance of the building with a lopsided smile. “Don’t want that cheap bottle of merlot to go bad.”

Bucky’s eyes brightened underneath the street lights and the wide boyish grin returned to his face. “We can’t have that, can we?”

❁ ❁ ❁

To say Bucky’s heart had skipped a beat at your invitation would have been an understatement. It did somersaults and ended with an impressive backflip. He’d not expected a move from your side. Especially, since the last time he had picked you up, the universe had flipped him the bird by sending two of his former one-night-stands your way. He had been able to shake them off before they were able to yell at him or reveal more of what their connection to him was. But that marked the first time he was a little embarrassed by his late endeavors. You had acted like nothing happened, but since that night, Bucky hadn’t stopped wondering what you thought of him. 

You lead him up the narrow staircase to a red wooden door, the color chipping by the floor as an indicator of having to kick it to open sometimes. Beyond the door, it was cozy and warm. Every corner of your place had a memory placed in it - a self-made quilt or a photograph. When you walked through it, Bucky could feel the love and time this place had seen. 

It was nothing like his own apartment: a penthouse standing high above the city, with sleek black surfaces and cold marble wherever you reached. Here, he felt the need to take his shoes off, to feel the fuzzy carpets on the scratched-up wooden floors. Your place wasn’t sterile like his, it felt... like a good hug. 

Bucky snorted as the result of a breath he released. Never before had he cared about what his place lacked. It was expensive and pristine, clean and big. And even though your apartment was about the size of his living room, it had so much more to offer. 

“The living room is right through there, you can choose a movie if you like.” Your voice called out from somewhere Bucky assumed to be the kitchen as he kicked off his shoes and made himself comfortable on the rust-colored sofa that had more pillows than necessary. It was super comfortable, though. And the lack of space due to the pillows forced you to sit a little closer to him, so he wasn’t complaining.

“Your place is... cute.” He stated as you handed him a glass of wine and laughed. 

“It’s a shoebox but I do love it very much. Probably nothing compared to what you’re used to.”

Bucky shook his head and took a sip. The wine did taste cheap, but he did not care. “Bigger isn’t always better.” His arm was spread on the backrest but your whole body was turned to him. “It has a lot of character.”

“Oh god, please stop, you’re just making it sound worse.” Your hand came up to hide your face but your smile peeked through the gesture. 

Bucky laughed. “I didn’t mean it condescendingly. I really do like it. Reminds me of my childhood home.”

“Are you close with your family?” Bucky was surprised by the question. Maybe it was because his friends never talked about his family, or because the peers he hung out with tended to discuss business rather than sentimental. But he realized that nobody had asked him about it for a long time.

And so he began talking. Bucky talked about his parents and how both of them died early in his life. He told you how close he was with his sister until she got adopted into another family. He spoke about his childhood with Steve and how they’d met Sam and Tony in college, about the night they had the idea for Shield Protective Services, and finally the day he was told his sister had passed away. 

Throughout his story, you had leaned into him closer, hanging onto his every word until your hand had to support your body on his thigh and Bucky suddenly stopped talking. 

Your glasses were emptied, the bottle as well, and Bucky gulped when he felt the heat from your hand travel throughout his entire body. 

“So... that’s my story.” He had to clear his throat to gain his usual timber back, his hands becoming sweaty when you blinked next to him. “What about you, dove?”

“Dove?” You smiled, yet intrigued by the name that had slipped past his lips in the trance of the moment. He’d only ever called you that in his thoughts. Attributed the nickname to you the second he realized it was the most fitting one of them all. 

“You don’t like it?” He asked, his arm slipping towards your shoulder ever so slightly. 

“I like it.” You smiled. “I just want to know... why this one?”

A hush of giddiness crawled up his throat when he thought about his answer. It was the way you had welcomed him so easily into this world of yours. How you were willing to show him the things precious to you. That you trusted him with this very opportunity to help. Every day he spent with you he felt it, found that between coding his new security program and meeting with Hydra enterprises, its somber reality sent him into a feeling of breathing fresh air. You created a button that turned off the noise in his head. “Because you bring me peace.”

Your eyes stared at him in wonder when he tilted your chin with his thumb and index finger. There was appreciation and happiness, he could see it, feel it. 

Bucky was entranced by your stare when your voice whispered a response to him: “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever been told.”

You leaned forward and Bucky’s heart threatened to jump out of his chest, and then your face fell into his chest, your arms encasing him in the warmest hug he’d ever received. He willed his pulse to slow and wrapped his arms around you tightly. A little humbled and a little confused, but appreciative of the situation nonetheless. 

You stayed like this when you chose a movie to watch. Even after an hour, Bucky’s grip didn’t loosen. He peered down at you on his chest and watched as you fell asleep. And when he was sure you were far away in your slumber, he pressed a warm kiss to your head, lingering in the scent of your shampoo.  

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky stared at his computer screen as the pen in his hand clicked on his glass desk in perfect rhythm. The Shelter website displayed on the surface, portraying a brighter version of the sign you had dragged him to that very first day. 

But it wasn’t the heartfelt story behind the building or the way his pen clicked slightly more hollow every other tap because he turned it too much that had him zoned out at work. It was - as unbelievable as it sounded - a woman. Not just any, no. You. 

“Hey, I need a signature from you for this design draft.” Steve dropped his notepad on the desk, then rounded it and settled behind Bucky who had yet to recognize his presence. 

“This your charity suggestion?” He questioned with his hands on his friend’s office chair. 

Bucky nodded absentmindedly. Perhaps it was because he had decided to support your suggestion the second you had taken his hand on his way to the subway. Or maybe he was just letting his mind roam freely again. Mainly because it was a safe bet to call you into memory and he liked the feeling it provided. 

A pale hand waved in front of his face. “Earth to Bucky.” Steve snapped his fingers, making the brunette jump. “You seem oddly distracted.”

He had been thinking about you. Of course, he had. There seemed to be nothing else he could do lately. Every time Bucky read through his reports, he imagined what your voice would sound like reading them to him. Whenever he went down to IT, he envisioned the room decorated with your flowers and how much happier they would make the place. When he sat in a meeting with HR and watched their burnt-out faces stare back at him through their coffee haze, he wondered if you could make them as lively as you made him. 

Bucky could - so he realized after weeks of denial - not escape you. 

That was one thing. But the more chilling revelation was that he did not mind. He enjoyed the little admonitions his mind set out in his environment. He appreciated the quickening thumb in his chest, whenever he saw his calendar entries stating another meeting with you - so much so that he almost forgot how unusual it was for him. 

It was crazy. A month ago, if someone had dared to tell him he’d be finding something more than his regular flings, he would have laughed in their face. In fact, he actually did a few days before he met you. 

Bucky didn’t know what kind of magical spell you’d put on him, but within a few weeks, he’d started to become a different man. A better version of his thought-to-be-marvelous self. Now he realized what he was missing: a counterpart, someone who made life seem dull without them by his side. He wasn’t going to admit it to Sam or Steve immediately, but the idea of you being that very someone became more attractive each day. 

“Just a lot to do with the gala and all...” Bucky trailed off and spun around to Steve. 

“You know, I never took you for an event manager...” The blonde grinned and his eyes lit up in the office light. “Don’t take this the wrong way, I like seeing you try something new, but this feels very... out of place.”

“But you also know I never back down from a challenge. And I’ll be damned if Nat has something to hold against me for life.”

Steve’s head tipped forward. “We both know that woman has blackmail material for two lifetimes on us. 

“She really does.” Bucky sighed and then slumped back in his chair, the little issue he had been hiding from his best friend gnawing on his mind. 

He thought about Steve and Bambi and how he had just asked her to marry him. She’d said yes, of course, nobody expected otherwise. Steve - of all people - was living a magical fairytale life with the woman of his dreams. And here Bucky was, thinking he had figured it all out with women and relationships - or rather that he never wanted one - yet he found himself wondering why that decision bugged him so much when you came into the picture. 

“Can I ask you something?” Bucky squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, not believing he was really going to ask Steve for dating advice.

“Always.”

“How did you know that Bambi was the one?” A stupid question, really. Bucky already knew there was nobody like you. But it was best to start this conversation off lightly.

Steve smiled widely again, his cheeks tinted pink. “Well, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. And not in an I haven’t touched a woman in years kind of way... I couldn’t stop. Every second of every day, I imagined her with me. The thought of her made me happier even before she knew how I felt about her. And, well, it also hurt like hell when I thought she didn’t return my feelings... when she refused to talk to me for a day...” He cleared his throat and then eyed Bucky again. “Why do you want to know?”

“Nothing in particular. I was just wondering and I needed material for my best man speech.” But the blonde didn’t buy it. He caught Bucky’s chair when he attempted to turn away, pulling him right back in front of him. “Are you dating someone? Is it that woman from the flower shop?”

How did he know about you? “No??” Bucky squinted at Steve. 

“You know if you wanted advice, I do consider myself an expert to some extent now.” Bucky wanted to wipe the smug grin right off his friend’s face. 

“You’re an idiot.” He stood up and paced to the window.

“Oh come on, Buck.” Steve followed suit, the playful grin ever present. “You teased me for years about my love life, can’t be mad now.”

“I’m not mad.” He was annoyed. 

They stood by the glass front for a while, watching the busy city unfold beneath them in the glow of the rising sun. Bucky could feel his friend’s eyes stare at him though. And after another moment of silence, the blonde finally spoke. “You should ask her out.”

“What?” He faced him again. 

“You like her. I can tell. And you’ve never acted like this about a woman, let alone put so much effort into a relationship. I know it’s not your style, but I think it would do you good to at least try.”

“The effort is for the gala.” Bucky corrected. 

“Right. Because that’s your thing... charity galas.” Steve squeezed Bucky’s shoulder and then tapped it and then he made his way to the door. “I’m not going to tell you what to do, but I really wish you would listen to your heart and not be a stubborn dickhead for once. This could be something life-changing - something great. And it’s your choice whether you welcome it or not.”

Life changing. Bucky didn’t like the sound of that. He liked to be in control of the situation and rule over his own life. However that aspect seemed to have left the building when you entered. 

He huffed. There you were back on his mind again, and he felt the tingle creep up his throat. There was no denying it. What Steve had described with Bambi was what Bucky had with you. 

With a shake of his head, he grabbed his coat, told Nat he’d be back in an hour, and then pressed the button for the elevator. He would deny it if Steve ever dared to take pride in convincing him to do so, but he’d also be damned if he didn’t at least try to find out if you felt the same. 

❁ ❁ ❁

There was a burly-looking stranger standing at the counter when Bucky entered your shop. He had willed the traitorous voice in his head to silence all the way here. But now that he saw the handsome older man taking all your attention to the point you hadn’t even noticed him stepping in over the customer's broad shoulders, the heat began to bubble up again. 

Bucky wanted to tell himself you wouldn’t prefer the salt-and-pepper-bearded man over him. But to be honest, he didn’t even know what your type was. Yes, you had cuddled on your sofa just the other night, but since Bucky wouldn’t consider himself an expert in anything other than one-night stands, it could have been a friendly gesture for all he knew. 

“Would that be all for you?” You asked the man and handed him his chance. Bucky watched as his thumb grazed over your hand, feeling a tinge of anger starting to consume him.  

“That’s all. Thank you, sweetheart.”

“I hope to see you again soon, sir.”

“Oh, you can bet on it.” He winked then turned, nodded to Bucky in a brief greeting, and then exited the shop. Bucky’s eyes lingered on the door for a while longer. He took deep breaths as his jaw clenched and the bell above the entrance fell silent. 

“Hey.” A warm hand touched his arm, pulling him right back to your eyes. And just like that, the anger washed away a little. There were just you and him in your tiny oasis amid Brooklyn. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” He forced a smile, but the frown on his face probably betrayed him. “Just thought that man was a little inappropriate.” 

“He’s just a sweet man buying flowers for his wife.” Your eyes glimmered with mischief when you bit your lip. “Bucky... are you jealous?”

Oh, hell no.

“Jealous?” Bucky wasn’t jealous. He couldn’t be. There was nothing to be jealous of. He had no claim to you. Even if he really wished he did. And yet that man had angered him with only the touch of his hand. That was the only thing he’d ever get. Bucky knew what it felt like to have you in his arms, how your body lotion settled in his nose, how your head fit perfectly in the crook of his neck. “No.”

“But you should not be so naïve, dove. Married men are also flirting... and cheating.”

A short laugh escaped your throat before you caught yourself again and Bucky’s heart began doing that funny somersault thing. “Not to burst your bubble or anything, but I do know how the real world works.” You crossed your arms before your chest. “Besides, what do you care if he did ask me out? Maybe it has been a lifelong dream of mine to be a mistress.”

“It’s not. And I don’t. I just think you deserve someone better than a cheater.”

“Oh, like who? The percentage of good guys in this city is disappointingly low.”

Bucky snorted, guided by the excitement in his chest he opened his arms. “Please, I could name at least five guys off the top of my head who are better than whatever that was.” His left hand flailed in the direction of the door, referring to the previous customer. 

“Name one.”

“Me.”

The surprise sprung onto your features faster than Bucky realized what he had said. “What?” 

Well, this was certainly not the way he had planned to ask you out today. Damn jealousy. The only way for this to not be embarrassing was to own up to it now. It was what he had come here for after all, right?

Bucky looked directly into your eyes, his expression sincere and determined. "Yes, me. I may not have everything figured out, but I do know one thing: I care about you. I've seen the way you light up a room, the kindness you show to everyone around you. You deserve someone who sees that, who appreciates it.”

Your eyes softened when you shook your head, averting your gaze to the ground. “I don’t know, Bucky.”

He bit the insides of his cheeks, instantly hoping you’d say something else. Anything that would show him there was a chance you would change your mind. The silence was all-consuming, but he kept his mouth shut, careful not to fuck it up once again. 

“Bucky, I appreciate your honesty, I really do. But I don't think it's a good idea.”

Bucky's brows furrowed, his confidence wavering as your soft refusal hit him. "What do you mean, you don't know?" he asked, his tone tinged with a hint of frustration. He struggled to keep his composure, the unfamiliar feeling of rejection gnawing at him. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he searched for the right thing to say. His jaw tensed, betraying the hurt he felt deep down. "Forget it," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. With a curt nod, he turned on his heel, his disappointment palpable in the air as he made his exit, leaving you to contemplate his unexpected confession.

❁ ❁ ❁

“Why, don’t you just look precious!” You bent down and picked up Sam’s daughter, Darla, who had eagerly stormed through the door as soon as he’d opened it because she wasn’t quite tall enough to reach the handle yet. 

“You... I’ve missed you soooo much.” You nuzzled her into your chest and pretended to squeeze real tight. 

“Come play dragons with me!” The little one squirmed and then hopped off in her tiny knight costume.

“Nothing I would rather do,” you singsonged and then mouthed a ‘she’s grown so much’ to Sam before he closed the door with a shake of his head. 

“I know... she just does it without my permission. Unbelievable.”

About ten minutes later, you sat on the living room floor with a bunch of stuffed dragons, you had been instructed to play. Sam’s daughter was happily fighting the stuffies with her wooden sword and his husband handed you a cup of coffee with a smile. 

“So how have things been?” Matt sat down on the sofa and Sam instantly wrapped his arm around him. Your eyes lingered on the interaction for a second before your gaze wandered back to Darla. 

“Oh, you know, business as usual. The shop is doing very well... the shelters are holding up.” You smiled at her and then made a dragon fall backward in defeat. 

“Hm...” He frowned. “That’s weird... I had a feeling it was getting better soon.”

You smiled tight-lipped and wondered if you had butchered it all with your stubbornness. Matt wasn’t clairvoyant or anything crazy like it. But the joke of his other senses being heightened due to his impaired vision had carried on forever. And even though you never believed in supernatural magical things, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, there was a hunch of truth to it nonetheless. He had been right about many other things after all. 

“I don’t know,” you sighed and Darla excused herself to her room to ‘get more toys’. “Except for the shop, everything else seems to go a little downhill right now.”

“But you have been seeing someone, no?” Matt tilted his head and Sam squeezed his shoulder in an attempt to make him stop. 

“Babe, do we need to talk about appropriate prying again?” 

“Sorry,” Matt blushed, “Occupational hazard.”

You laughed and then turned serious again. “I have... but to be honest, I doubt it will have a future. It’s - I don’t know - it just seems a little too good to be true.”

“It’s been Bucky you’ve been seeing, hasn’t it?” Sam chimed in with a calm deep voice, making your attention snap to him. Your heart began to race at the mention of Bucky’s name. 

“How did you know?”

His fingers lifted in air quotes “A gorgeous girl with a flower shop in Brooklyn that somehow tries to convince him to donate to Sunflower shelters? You did not make it hard, honey.”

“He... he talks to you about me?” Well, that changes things, you thought as you watched Sam reassure you with a small smile. 

"More like a little birdy told me...." Sam shrugged. “What happened?” He leaned forward slightly, his eyes holding concern.

“Isn’t it obvious? I don’t want to be one of his many trophies. And I’m scared, I just made the chase attractive by not putting out immediately.” Your eyes turned glassy. “What if he will lose interest when I do.” Your voice broke, making you almost whisper the last part into the living room. “Because I really really want to...”

Matt cleared his throat. “If it helps anything... I have a feeling you are not going to be just another one-night stand.”

“And why is that?”

“I’ve never seen him like this.” Sam chimed in. “So butthurt about a girl or even put effort in a relationship that would only become a one night stand - which it is not - he wants more, he needs more. He sees a future with you. And as much as his bad-boy demeanor has made that pretty unbelievable in the past, he is changing. I just know, and it’s about time that he aims for peace and quiet and love and comfort.”

Turning your head with a suspicious grin, you answered: “Is Matt contagious? Because that sounded one hell of a lot like a prediction to me.”

Sam just shook his head with a smile, scooted forward on the sofa, and then took your hands in his. “Believe me when I say this: You are so amazing. And not even a douchebag like Bucky could deny it. Yes, he has had his fair share of women in the past, and he can be the most stubborn dickhead in all of New York City, but he’s not stupid. He knows something valuable when he sees it. And you, love, have given him the most precious thing he’s ever had.”

You held eye contact for a short moment, letting your friend’s words sink in and warm you from the inside until the butterflies in your stomach began to tingle. As much as you wanted to refuse, you had shown him love and acceptance every step of the way. And Bucky? Bucky had tried so hard to impress you. He had done so many things just for you, to spend time with you.

You just wrote it off as a means to get you to sleep with him. But at this point, that argument was farfetched. Because throughout the time you spent together, his presence was pleasant, casual, and... wanted. 

“So what do I do now?” You said with determination, making a smile spark on both Sam’s and Matt’s faces.

❁ ❁ ❁

“So, Barnes is unusually grumpy tonight.” Bucky heard Tony say when he came back from the bathroom, jamming his glas on the table to announce he was listening. “Did you get cockblocked or what?”

“Shut it, Stark, or I’ll personally demonstrate your very own cockblock.” Bucky pressed through his teeth. 

“Damn, Buck. What the hell could possibly throw you off this much?” Tony signaled for two more drinks to the bar as Bucky took a seat again. 

Sam looked at him with a raised brow - the fucker knew what was going on. But Bucky refused to get dragged into talking about his feelings. 

“I thought it was going good?” Steve chimed in, a question in his features. Steve, you punk. Shut up!

Bucky knew he was referring to the bouquets of flowers that subtly decorated the office now. First his own desk, then the kitchen. And when Nat had grown suspicious, he proceeded to place them on her desk to have her stop asking questions. 

It wasn’t his doing - not this time. You had just given him a bouquet of the flowers you couldn’t sell anymore every time you met. And Bucky couldn’t bring himself to throw them out. They also reminded him of you and were a nice little distraction from work. ...Not that it mattered anymore.

“Going good? What is going on? What are you talking about, Rogers?”

“Bucky met a- ouch goddamnit!” A kick was heard from beneath the table. And when Steve’s eyes snapped over to Sam, the man just tipped his head with a warning stare. “What the hell, man?”

“Okay, that’s it. I feel like you guys don’t tell me anything. I need details. Now.”

“No.”

Bucky didn’t need Tony to know. In fact, Bucky didn’t need anyone to know he had trouble talking to a woman. He, of all people, who never had any difficulties getting even the married ones - yeah he wasn’t too proud of that... But Tony would just make everything worse. And with his patience hanging by a thread right about now, he was not willing to play with fire. 

“Buck, we- they’re your friends. They deserve to know, especially if things are as serious as you told me.” Bucky just stared at Steve in silence, his gaze trained on the crystal class in front of him with the amber liquid untouched. Steve always had a need to calm the storm. And maybe, Bucky would let him do it this time. 

Truthfully, Bucky couldn’t imagine a life without you anymore. His friends would sooner or later hear about you - if he had not fucked it up entirely. So, it was better to rip the band-aid off now than peel it back painfully slow in the future. 

He crossed his arms and exchanged a brief glance with the blonde, and Steve understood that he was allowed to proceed. 

“Bucky met someone. He’s organizing the charity gala this year and she’s the florist doing the flower arrangements.” He had never noticed it before, but ever since Bambi had entered Steve’s life, his best friend’s fable for romance became more and more apparent to Bucky. 

“She’s also helped him find a cause to donate to. She’s been taking him to the Shelter she has worked at for years,” Sam chimed in and Bucky didn’t even question where he got his information from anymore. Steve and he had always been close, and though Bucky didn’t believe Steve would tell Sam his most private conversations, Sam always had a way of finding out. 

“Event planning? Florist? Who are you and what have you done to Bucky?” Tony looked seriously stunned, But Bucky didn’t expect anything less than incomprehension. He had always been the only one in the group Tony could relate to and talk to when it came to women and lifestyles. Now, that very thing was slipping away. 

Bucky just shrugged, uncertain how to answer. It was true: He had changed quite a bit ever since meeting you. But they weren't bad changes. He actually liked them. 

Steve cleared his throat. “I thought things were going great, just the other day he talked about asking her out. And there were all these flowers in the office, I just assumed...”

“Yeah well, they weren’t.” Bucky interrupted as he felt the frustration creep back up. There were so many new feelings mixing within him that he didn’t know what to do with them. 

“Well it’s good to have you back, I guess. Can’t imagine how that would’ve turned out.” Tony’s hand landed on Bucky’s shoulder, who immediately brushed it off. 

“What do you mean ‘turned out’?”

His head swayed from left to right and his hands turned outward. “Well, we all agree it would have never worked out right? You’re not the one for relationships and she was clearly using you for that charity money.”

What the actual fuck?

“You don’t know her. So don’t you dare assume anything about her.” Bucky sprung up, his hands hitting the table with a thump. “Dove has the kindest, most beautiful soul on this earth.” He wouldn’t let Tony, of all people, insult you. Not you. Not his dove. And, yes, maybe it also hurt a little that his friend did not believe Bucky could change for something truly important. And maybe it scratched his ego that this might have been the reason for your rejection the other day. But all of that seemed unimportant now. 

“Look at you growing all protective.”

“Tony.” Steve’s condescending tone rumbled over the booth. 

A look at Tony and Bucky wanted to smack the smirk off his face. Another look at Sam, whose eyes had grown soft with empathy. And one last look at Steve, who’d only wanted him to be as happy as him. Damn it. 

“You wouldn’t fucking know what I’m talking about, Stark.”

And then he stormed out of the Ironbar and into the night, head fuming, heart racing, and only one thing on his mind. 

❁ ❁ ❁

You were pretty sure Bucky would have kicked your door down had you not opened it the second time he wrapped his fist against it. Now he was standing in front of you, cheeks reddened from the cool night air, chest rising with deep breaths, but still devilishly handsome. 

“Hey, Bucky!” You smiled until you noticed the irritated look in his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

He seemingly ignored you, stepping into your home and then turning once you closed the door. “Do you think I can change?”

“What?”

“Do you believe I could change? That I could become the person you would date?” His eyes were pleasing, his head cocked to the side - fidgedy.

“Is... is this about the other day?”

Bucky looked nervous, vulnerable even. “Just answer my question, please.”

“I believe everyone has the ability to change. But I also know not everyone wants to.” You looked at your hands, suddenly feeling a bit awkward.

“Then why... why do you think I haven’t. Through all the times we’ve gone to the shelter, through all the conversations. I’ve never had that with someone before... what I have with you.”

There it was. You knew you had to talk to him about it sooner or later. Sam and Matt had suggested as much. You just didn't know it would be this soon.

“Bucky, I just don’t want to end up as one of the women passing you on the street, throwing side eyes at the newest one you’re having on your arm.” Yeah... that encounter had been a rather awkard one. Not to mention how nervous you were that night, hopig Bucky had only played it cool in order to protect you.

“See, but that wouldn’t happen to you, dove. It wouldn’t. Because I realized that you are the reason that makes me want to change.” Bucky's gaze softened as he spoke, his tone gentle yet resolute he stepped closer. “I'm not perfect, but I promise you this: I'll always try my best for you. So, yeah, maybe it's a long shot, but I think I could be good for you. And if you'd give me the chance, I'd love to show you.” He took your hands in his, then closed his eyes and came even closer. “I know I'd treat you right.”

Throughout his confession, your gaze never faltered from his face. You could feel the desperate honesty in his tone, in the way his hands lightly trembled. He was scared, and he lay that emotion in your hands - for you to do whatever you needed with it. 

Your voice was shaky when you answered, a light hue of shame fogging the question on the tip of your tongue. “But how do I know...?” That this is not what you’re telling every woman in this godforsaken city? 

But Bucky understood. Because apparently that pull you'd had toward him had been there for a reason. “Because the things you make me feel scare me.” His face was mere inches from yours now, you could see every speck of color in his irises. “They scare me because I’ve never felt them before. Every time I’m not with you, I think of you. In every situation I am in alone, I imagine how much more exciting it would be with you in it. I’m going crazy. I’m lost without you, dove.”

A single tear ran down your face at his confession. This moment felt so raw, his words so sincere. But most importantly, it made your heart pound with excitement. 

“Will you be mine?” His forehead leaned against yours, his hands moving up your arms and to your neck. “Please say yes,” he whispered and his breath tickled your nose. 

He just felt so right. Bucky felt right in your home, in your arms, in your life. “Yes.” You finally answered and as soon as the syllable left your mouth, his lips came crashing onto yours. 

Within seconds, Bucky had you pressed against the door. His hands held your face lovingly, his hands warm and big on your skin. The kiss was deep and so unbelievably pure, it punched the breath from your lunges the second your lips connected. And suddenly you knew that Bucky’s words held far less emptiness than you had feared. Nobody could kiss like this and not be sincere. At least you hoped it to be true because once you’d gotten a taste, you knew you would never want to try anything else. You could get drunk off him. Forever.

Your hands wandered beneath Bucky’s coat, settling in the warmth of his back beneath the thick wool and feeling the muscles ripple when he pulled you even closer. 

You sighed into him because the moment felt so right, so perfect, so tailored to the two of you and Bucky brushed his tongue over your bottom lip. The tingle from the gesture traveled down your spine. Before you could hold yourself back, you let his touch swallow you whole. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky moaned, a feeling so warm and enjoyable taking over his body with every breath you stole from him. He had wanted for this to happen for weeks. And the real thing did not disappoint. 

Your hands roamed his back until they hooked onto his shoulders and began shrugging off his coat. He tried hard to keep your lips on his during the action, not wanting to miss a single moment without them anymore. You were here, you were his, and it was perfect. 

“Bucky,” you whimpered when his thigh made its way between your legs. A move so instinctually feeling for him. But all the other women he’d been with before only seemed like practice now. Preparation to be the best lover you’ve ever had and ever will have. Because you were the real thing, the grand prize, the best person to ever happen to him. 

You ground down on his legs in rhythmic motions, Bucky could feel the heat seeping through his expensive dress pants and it made him feel even hotter. He pushed his leg higher, reveling in the sounds that came from your lips and the very knowledge he was the one providing this pleasure. There was nothing more exhilarating. 

But still, it wasn’t enough. “There are too many layers of clothes between us, dove,” his wet breath brushed against your cheek as he pulled his thigh back for you to take off your jeans. 

“You’re so right.” You grinned and then pulled them down in one swift motion only to reveal a pink pear of panties underneath. 

In an instant, his body was pressed to yours again, his lips attaching to yours like magnets - he couldn’t get enough of the taste of you. But instead of placing his leg right back to get you that delicious friction, his hand began traveling down your front until it disappeared in your underwear. 

If you were any other woman, Bucky would’ve gone down on you. He would have dropped to his knees and eaten you out because he knew it was the fastest way he’d make you come. And he took pride in the fact that the women he was with always had at least one orgasm more than him. But he didn’t do so with you. 

Why?

Because Bucky Barnes got high off of your lips, and he couldn’t possibly imagine not seeing your face, feeling your mouth shape in a silent scream when he would make you come for the first time. 

So his hand had to do for now. His fingers slipped past the thin pink cotton and over your mound to gather your slickness. He gasped when he reached your heated core. “You’re so wet for me, love. So ready.” He pecked the corner of your lips. “So perfect.”

“Yes!” You whined and pressed your pussy into his touch. Bucky immediately started to trace circles on your clit. He took his time to find the motions with which your breath staggered, or your fists clenched in his shirt. With every whimper, every stroke of his hand, he felt his dick strain his pants a little more - the aching exciting him for when he could finally sink into you. 

“Shit, don’t stop. I’m so close.”

“I don’t plan on ever stopping.” He growled into your mouth, his hand movements becoming more frantic, the wet noises filling your apartment. Frankly, Bucky didn’t believe he could ever stop giving you pleasure and having you writhe in his arms with deep sighs. Not until he knew how you sounded cumming on his hand, on his face, on his dick, on the sofa, on the bed, and every other surface he could possibly imagine. Your body was like ecstasy.

Your walls began to clench around his fingers, every drag becoming harder as he imagined his cock being squeezed by you instead. “There you go, Baby. That’s it.”

“OH MY GOD!” You screamed as your hand pulled on his hair, your body growing rigid with pleasure and Bucky kissed every curse word from your lips. 

After a minute, he slowly pulled his hand back, the other caressing the skin on your cheek. “Are you okay?” He whispered, his eyes boring into yours in genuine concern. 

“Are you kidding? I’m more than okay. That was incredible.” Bucky couldn’t help the small chuckle from leaving his lips at your praise. 

“You look really fucking pretty when you come.”

“I’m glad. Because I want you to make me do it again.” You kissed his cheek. “And again.” And then you gently stroked his cock through his pants. “And again.”

And the second you said that Bucky pulled you onto the floor with him. He took his time removing your clothes, kissed the trial of your bra strap all the way down your shoulder, licked and bit at your hips all the way down to your ankles where he finally pulled off your underwear and pressed his lips to the soft skin of your leg. And when you were fully naked, he paused. Bucky’s eyes roamed your body, taking in every divot, every mark and curve of yours.

He sat back on his haunches, his head getting dizzy when the butterflies took over. “God, you’re so beautiful,” Bucky softly wheezed, his hand slowly stroking your leg as you lay spread out in front of him. 

“Come here.” You gestured with your arms open, welcoming him in your embrace with a wide smile. Bucky supported his weight with his arms on either side of your head and let your hands bury in his hair. He closed his eyes letting the warmth of your touch overtake him. Your thumbs stroked over his brows before you whispered: “Look at me.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry I doubted you. I feel the appreciation in the way you talk to me and touch me. It was unfair of me to assume you are your reputation.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s not like I made it easy for you to believe me.”

You chuckled and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Well, I do now.” Your eyes locked with his and a new fire lit within them. 

“Good.” He smirked and then rolled you over so that you were straddling his waist. The cool wooden floor hit his bare back as you had bunched his shirt up on the way, now pulling it over his head and revealing your satisfied stare when your hands traced over his abs.

You shook your head and released a breath. “Shame on me for refusing this for so long.” Your fingers passed his happy trail and began working on his belt. Bucky’s thumbs stroked your thighs as he watched you undress him, the tent in his pants ever so present and growing with every brush of your fingers. 

“Don’t worry, dove. We have all the time in the world to make up for it.” When his pants were off he pulled you forward again, kissing you ferociously. “‘Cause I’m not planning on leaving.”

You smirked and ground down on his cock, interrupting his speech and ripping a guttural sound from his chest. 

He had been holding back. Ever since you'd dragged him into that shelter, he had not touched a woman, because you had him hooked the second you had taken his hand on the way. And now he had to bite his tongue to keep himself from coming in his boxers like a school boy. 

“Are you getting nervous, Bucky?” You grinned and moved again to tease him a little more.

“Can you blame me?” He clenched his jaw when you rocked forward again, his hand stilling your hips with a near-bruising grip. “I’ve wanted you ever since I stepped foot in your shop.”

“You did?” Your head cocked to the side, surprise washing over your face and his dick twitched making Bucky’s cheeks heat up. 

“Yes...” He confessed only to be attacked with your kisses again. He groaned and bucked his hips up until you were a moaning mess on top of him. His hands reached around you, settling on your ass and giving it a small clap. 

“Hand me my walled, baby. It’s in my pants.”

“Why?”

“We need a condom if you don’t want to keep dry-humping me.” He smirked, knowing, feeling there was nothing dry about this anymore. Your arousal was already drenching his boxers. The slick pushing him close to losing it. 

“It’s okay. We don’t have to, I have an IUD.” 

“As much as I want to, we should be safe...” Bucky swallowed and averted his eyes in regret. “Have to get tested again.”

“Oh, ok.” You were disappointed, he could tell. And Bucky was too. It was the first time he ever regretted all his one-night stands because he would kill to fuck you raw and feel all of you. And as hazy as your body made him, he could not ignore the fact that he did have several different sex partners before. It would have to wait a few weeks. And when he would come back clean, he would keep you in the bedroom for a week straight.

You must have noticed his misery because you leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Then you scooched back and retrieved the condom from his wallet. Bucky held his breath when your fingers hooked into his waistband. And when you pulled them down, his cock stood proud and thick with precum already pearling from his tip. 

He reached for the shiny packet in your hand but you pulled your arm up, your eyes stuck on his cock. “Let me.”

“Okay,” he breathed out as he watched you rip the packet. His shaft twitched when your careful hands rolled the condom over him, another bead of precum dripping into the condom and before he could collect himself, you rubbed your pussy all over him, coating him in your arousal. 

Bucky’s hands turned into fists at your sides as he watched you finally sink down on him - inch by inch, your heat welcomed him, his body sparking with pleasure all over. You moaned in unison when he was fully seated inside you, his cock being hugged tightly in your warmth - he’d barely held it together then. 

You planted your hands on his abdomen and rocked forward, sending the both of you reeling. It took a second for Bucky to collect himself. His eyes closed and his nose huffing, he reminded himself of what he had promised you and what he wanted his first time with you to be. When he opened his eyes again, his hands moved over your body with determination. One setting over your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers, the other began tracing tight circles on your clit. 

Your head fell back, a vision of ecstasy and pleasure unfolding before him when he sent you over the edge a second time. He slowed your hips on his and rubbed your pussy with his thumb. He needed you to come again. And then again, and he had to hold out for that long. But the way your chest heaved, the light sheen of sweat forming on your skin, made his plan more than difficult. 

It took all of Bucky’s willpower to pull you off his cock and push you to his legs. He sat up and kissed up your neck until he reached your lips. “What are you doing?”

“Giving you what you asked for.” He mumbled against your skin and then licked over your nipple, the other being caressed by his fingers. His free hand found its place right between your legs again and when you moaned lowly, he slipped two fingers inside you. 

Your pussy was squelching, the lewd sound traveling across the living room as Bucky worked you towards another release. You were already squirming in his hands again. Your fists pulled at his roots, sending a shiver straight to his cock when you leaned his head back. “You’re amazing.” Your breath was hot, fanning over his lips only to be replaced by them again. His tongue slipped inside and mimicking the movement of his fingers in your pussy. 

“Right back at ya, dove. I can't wait to be inside you again.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“For you to come again.” He bit your lip and sped up his fingers already feeling you squeeze him tightly. “So you’re satiated when I come deep inside you, feeling you squeeze me with that perfect pussy of yours until you see stars.”

“Shitshitshit. I’m coming!” A series of curses flew past him when you pulsed around his fingers, gushing all over his hand and lap until he finished rocking you through your third orgasm. 

“Fuck,” Bucky licked your juices off his fingers and his eyes rolled back into his head. 

“I don’t think I have another in me, Bucky.”

“Don’t worry, love. I got you.” And with that he hooked your legs around his waist, falling forward until you were with your back to the floor, Bucky hovering over you and aligning his length with your entrance. 

He couldn’t wait anymore, in one swift motion, Bucky fully bottomed out until his balls hit your ass. And when he was confident you were comfortable, he set a relentless pace. He had been on the edge this entire time. You had almost made him come just having him watch you let go. But there was nothing like the feeling of your pussy hugging him tightly, your body writhing beneath his, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure and nails raking down his back. 

“You feel so good,” he grunted and you just moaned in response.

“Look at me, please.” His hand turned your face. “I need to see you.” 

Bucky snapped his hips into yours even faster, your walls already clenching tightly around him and he threatened to burst. Your eyes opened and fell to his and Bucky couldn’t stop his orgasm from ripping through him anymore. His strokes stuttered, his balls tightened, but he held eye contact with you, searching your hand behind his back to lock your fingers with his. 

The white pleasure exploded within him, elevated by your own peak hitting with full force. He kissed you then, feeling like he was somewhere between heaven and your living room floor. His mind was consumed by you, his body tingling in aftershocks as he rocked you through your highs. 

His damp chest fell into yours when you came down. He rolled on his back, taking you with him, pressed deeply into his body, his cock still buried inside you. Bucky’s chest was heaving, the last remnants of pleasure sparkling in his nerves. He kissed your hand and cuddled you closer. 

This was what he was made for. To be with you, to be consumed by your affection and warmth. 

He smoothed over your head and felt your lashes flutter on his skin. His heart was blooming with contentment - all the fear he’d felt to commit was miles away, lost somewhere between the Ironbar and your doorstep. There was nothing he was more sure of. 

“Let me do this right. Let me take you out.” He whispered into your hair with a smile, trying to remember a time he’d ever been this happy. 

You snorted as your hand gently stroked over his chest. “Bucky, you’re literally ballsdeep inside of me right now.”

Bucky chuckled as well, his hand rubbed down your bare back in a soothing motion when he kissed your head. “Nothing like a convincing argument, huh.”

You already know your girl couldn't decide which GIF to use. So here are the extra ones:

Woooow, you've made it this far! Thank you so much 💕 If you have some time to spare, I would reaaaally appreciate some feedback from you. A comment or a reblog can help so much to reach more people and improve writing. Talk to you soon ~Meg 💞

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also tagging my steve tags (for everyone who wanted an update on Bambi) 🤗 :

[ronearoundblindly]

Day Eighty-Three (1)

CEO!Steve Rogers x CEO!Reader

10 A.M., an It Had To Be You tale (see previous or series)

Summary: A joint meeting between AmCaps and the heads of four other major companies goes about as horribly as possible...or is it exactly as you expected? Either way, Steve messes up big time.

Warnings for (hi, I'm Ro) arguments, the absolute shittiness of misogyny, degrading use of petnames, language, social idjit!Steve (he honest-to-god tried his best but whoops). MINORS DNI. If this is not to your taste, please feel free to search lighter stories here. WC 2571

Sadly, the whole thing would have gone better if Tony Stark showed up.

Stark doesn’t do meetings like this though, and you may never bother with one again. You may have no need.

Clammy hands grip the leather spine of your monogrammed portfolio, comfortingly thick with the employee files you’ve brought as ammunition. This is a battle, no doubt in your mind, but Steve acts as if it’s any other day. To him, it probably is.

This is Steve’s fourteenth quarterly get-together of entities using the stabilizing, hydrostatic, insulated, electro-neutral, lead-dense (aka S.H.I.E.L.D) modules which American Capsules supplies. You’ve worked here for twelve of those but never been in the room.

The room feels as big as a concert hall with you an ant in the back pew.

Since the meeting is on your turf, you and Steve wait till the others arrive, your boyfriend highly aware of your nerves but without a clue as to why.

You’ve been preparing for this far longer than the not-quite three months you’ve held the title of co-CEO. It’s important to understand what is really happening between these companies and who exactly is to blame. It was also important to tell Steve nothing until you knew all the facts, and you didn’t until the phone call you just got off three minutes ago.

That’s not enough time. He’ll have to enjoy the show like everyone else,

Steve loosens his skinny black tie and repeats that you shouldn’t worry. He can take the lead. All the stats are printed in the binders laid in front of six chairs around the oblong table. He touches you, reassuringly he believes, at exactly the wrong moment.

Justin Hammer saunters through the door, clocking the intimate hand on your arm when Steve leans forward to whisper, “what’s wrong?” The outrageously pompous pumpkin sucks his teeth, winking at you, and spins to moonwalk closer. Hammer even goes so far as to cup your other elbow with an over-tanned palm.

“Peach, you’re gorgeous. Don’t ever change,” he flirts, damn well knowing that you aren’t the assistant anymore but are dating the man right beside him. “Hey, pal, how’s it going? Lookin’ sharp.”

Justin wheels the nearest chair away from the conference table and plunks down, lounging against the high-backed seat, swinging his feet up onto the adjacent chair. He may as well be at the beach.

He snaps, hand landing in a finger gun pointed at you—or your backside, more accurately, where he’s also staring.

“I like mine sweet and dark. Thanks. ‘Preciate you.”

There’s no elaboration. You’re just the coffee bitch to him.

What’s wrong, you want to tell Steve, what’s wrong is that asshole is only twenty-five percent of the shit I have to deal with this morning!

Before you or Steve can respond, however, the other three arrive in quick succession.

Darren Cross of Pym Technologies might actually be the least offensive of the bunch. His smile is polite and jovial, he greets Steve simply and shakes your hand, and he smacks Hammer’s calf hard enough to make a sound as he passes by.

He, unlike Justin, brought a briefcase, keeping up the illusion that he participates in the company he’s here to represent. Cross probably does still participate, considering he was only promoted recently after Hank Pym retired.

Aldrich Killian is undoubtedly (one of) the brains behind his think tank, AIM, and Brock Rumlow is undoubtedly smug, being a lowly former associate at Stark Industries, now an executive for the Roxxon Energy Corporation.

Each of them has skin in each other’s game; throughout the history of American Capsules’ products, innovations have been shared between them to either create suitable shipping containers or to have their products shipped via those containers. They’ve quite literally shielded their collective work.

It’s a symbiotic relationship.

It’s a circle jerk.

Killian and Rumlow do not bother to walk around and say hello. They fake niceties and unbutton their suit jackets to sit on the other side of the table.

Noticeably, none of them chose either ‘head’ of the table. No one was willing to take a position of power equal to Steve in his own house. Your boyfriend seems to interpret this as acquiescence of some sort—proof that they’ll blindly respect what and who Steve himself respects,—and then Steve wrongly decides to gently run his hand the rest of the way down your arm, his fingers curling to lift your limb until the very last second.

He made it look like you were reaching out for him, like you were a scared child in need of support. You are, in a sense, but he didn’t have to fucking advertise it to these men.

Steve doesn’t make mistakes. He did that on purpose. Maybe he meant to establish some sort of claim to you? To stop them objectifying you? Whatever they do now is solely out of respect or fear of him though, not you.

You’re frozen in place—in anger, truth be told—until Justin drops his feet to the floor dramatically.

“Indulge me, sweetcheeks.” He winks again. “I’m thirsty.”

Doing your very best Vanna White impression, you step back and sweep an arm out toward the drinks on the side server. “Help yourself,” you say with a smile.

It’s only because Justin is an idiot that he misses the dig.

Open to the page he wants, Steve tosses his binder to the wood surface, the slap of lamination to varnish attracting the attention of all the men, and takes his seat at the end.

You waltz to the other side, a clear and distinct separation between you and Steve, equals in life and work but opposites today.

“Shall we wait for Stark,” Rumlow growls in his low voice.

“Not necessary,” Steve allows. “If he shows, he shows. Let’s get to it.”

Steve begins, pointing out a few key concerns. Since you already know all of this, he doesn’t look to you while speaking, but neither do the other men when they respond.

They talk over you as if you’re not there, being blowhards and patting each other on the back for ’surviving in this economy.’ You let them go on. Steve gets nowhere. He gets excuses. He gets parroted promises.

Justin dismisses insufficient specs by saying he’s just a pretty face. He leaves all the numbers to nerds. He laughs about how he’ll have to check with his people about the nitty-gritty details, but he’s sure it’ll work out.

He stands to get his own black coffee, plopping three cubes of sugar in the chrome mug.

Rumlow barks out that shoddy Hammer tech nearly sank a Roxxon oil rig.

Justin feigns ignorance of the incident.

Killian uselessly offers a fix for that, at a price.

Darren argues that Pym has followed their agreement with AmCaps to the letter.

Everybody is fucking lying to themselves.

The shouting continues, escalating until it looks like Killian and Rumlow are close to throwing punches, though you’ve missed why those two are at odds.

Finally, Steve rises, stretching his hands out in peace.

“Everyone, calm down! Take a breath. Have some water. Sit.”

He’s stressed, clearly, defaulting to conditioned behavior which means Steve then looks right at you with a pleading expression.

Wrong again.

Darren lets out a huff and nods at you. “Yes, I think that would be nice.”

“I’ll take a glass,” Rumlow adds with a tap of the table in your direction.

Killian sighs an unmistakable ‘loser’ to Rumlow, and suddenly, the fight is back on.

Time to lock and load.

You cough and stand, flipping open the portfolio in front of you, adjusting your hips in your pencil skirt with a tug but only for affect. You know exactly what draws the attention of these men.

The room goes mostly quiet.

“Water. For the table,” you deadpan command Steve.

Picking up your copy of the report set, you clear your throat.

“I’m afraid Rogers has given you all the impression this is a negotiation. It’s not.” You slide the binder to the center. “It’s a courtesy. A courtesy which none of you deserve.”

“What the hell is she talking about?” Rumlow gruffly asks Steve.

“I’m talking about unpaid balances and unfulfilled orders. I’m talking about product tampering and verified illegal activity that hereby voids your contracts, effective immediately.”

Darren shoots out of his seat. “You can’t do that!” He turns to Steve. “She can’t do that, right?”

Steve, however, is blanched with shock. “Wait, I—“

“Each of your agreements with us—“ you barrel over his protest “—contains a morality clause which was broken by Hammer Tech when they conspired to produce a subpar protective lining and pad Roxxon gas sales in the region, unwittingly causing unsafe storage at a Stark factory in Galmira because the entire operation no longer followed American Capsules specifications—your specifications for transporting your own products.

“Pym,” you continue with force, “failed to produce compact enough items for the containers they ordered and instead chose to resell the regulated lining materials for a premium.” You toss a packet of papers down to Darren. “In your infinite wisdom, this also means you violated multiple Customs laws by forging shipping weights and ignoring safety guidelines.”

Killian puts a bejeweled hand over his vested heart. “Cross, you didn’t?”

“Which brings me to fucking AIM,” you grit.

“Precious,” Steve breaths with a warning tone, but you can’t stop. You’ve waited too long for this moment.

“Because who the hell do you think created the new formula for a light-weight, lower-cost, shitty lining?” You take such pleasure in stabbing a finger in his direction then flinging stapled proof across the table. “Evidence. Evidence of all of this provided by multiple sources. And you were warned…”

Now comes the really fun part.

You spread out eight folders.

“…warned by Roxxon’s own Betty Ross, Wanda Maximoff, and Kamala Khan. By Hammer’s Monica Rambeau and Kate Bishop. AIM’s doctors, Christine Palmer and Helen Cho, and finally, Pym Tech’s Mary Jane Watson—none of whom, I’m excited to say, work for you anymore.”

There’s a stunned heft to the frigidly controlled air in the large room. The florescent lights overhead buzz harshly.

“Are you fucking serious?” Killian rasps.

“Put your bitch back on her leash,” Rumlow bites to Steve.

“Don’t speak to her like—“

“Wait a minute,” Justin snorts, “I’m confused.”

“Your nerds will explain it to you once you crawl back into your hole.”

“Prec—” Steve snips in alarm but catches himself. He looks panicked and blind-sided, which he would be. You kept their complicity from him until you had everything you needed to invoke the morality clause.

You turn to the junior CEO for Pym Tech. “Expect a call from Hope Van Dyne. She has a few thoughts on Cross Technologies.”

Called out for his as-yet-unannounced rebranding of the company, Darren breaks, and he breaks viciously, vaulting the three chairs between you.

“Fucking cunt,” he screams through bared teeth.

Steve launches past the skittering seats and makes it to Cross milliseconds before he can intercept you.

“I didn’t make you lie, cheat, and steal,” you screech. “You screwed yourselves!”

Killian straightens his lapels and smooths his shirt nervously. “Surely, we can come to some arrangement.”

“This is all a misunderstanding,” Hammer adds.

Rumlow simply walks out with a shout of “you’ll be hearing from our lawyers.”

Steve slams Cross into the window, an ominous rattle shaking the frame, the cheek of the struggling man whining as it smears along the glass. When Darren still tries to hiss something else at you, Steve pins him against the wall instead, a forearm choking off any other choice words the bald man might offer.

“This meeting is over,” Steve grunts, pushing at Cross until the man settles.

“Right,” you sigh, keeping your voice as level as you can. “Gentlemen, I’d say get your houses in order, but I’m afraid the furniture is about to be repoed.”

Killian runs his hand through his styled hair. “Think I’ll leave you to talk some sense into your precious partner. Good day.”

You’ll never forgive Steve for blurting your private nickname out in front of the worst possible people to know it, but this is how you chose to play the meeting. You knew there’d be…pushback.

The AIM founder takes a lazy sip. “Thanks for the water, Rogers.” He taps his pinky ring several times on the glass, a hollow, high ting lingering after each strike, and then Aldrich heads for the door.

Steve releases Darren despite the wild look in his eyes, but Cross would be a fool to make any move except to leave. He gathers his things and slips through the exit before it fully closes.

The only one remaining is Justin Hammer, and he tosses out his arms with a chuckle, shaking his head.

“Kitten, come on. This is crazy. Isn’t this crazy? We’re all friends here. Let’s just chill, relax, and work this out. How ‘bout a drink?” More snaps. More finger guns. “You want coffee? Alright, perfect. Love ya. We’ll have coffee.” The man fidgets, sweat visible on his lip and forehead when he turns in the window’s light and approaches the drink cart.

“Sure thing, Justin. I take my coffee like I take my women—“ you smile “—from you.”

Okay, that part just felt good.

“That—” Hammer’s brow raises and he wipes down his jaw with one hand “—now that was uncalled for.”

Steve cuts in, a solid dismissal in the form of “I said ‘the meeting’s over.’”

“Oh, boy. You—well, you better watch…This ain’t over.” Hammer makes a fuss of buttoning his jacket again, puffing out his chest, then walking off even more empty-handed than he arrived.

The enormous, heavy door shuts slowly on buzzing, bright silence.

After a pause, Steve heaves out a breath.

“That went well.”

Sarcasm is not one of his strengths.

You’re not sure what you expected. You stand as a block of granite decor in the corner you retreated to once shit hit the fan.

It was the right decision. This was the right thing to do, the moral thing. It’s in the goddamn contract.

Though physically he shows no signs of duress—Steve used very little of his actual muscle to subdue Darren,—he hangs his head, stepping to your spot at the table to look at what you brought in. After a pause, Steve rubs his temple like it aches.

“I…I have no words,” he mutters, tone inscrutable.

You don’t care if he has words or not. You only have to wait until they’re out of the building.

“I don’t understand. What just happened?”

The door opens to reveal a bored-looking Topaz.

“Boss, Stark sent a catered lunch over. Where should they set up? It’s shawarma.”

“I don’t care,” Steve bursts. “Just take it down to R&D or something!”

That’s your cue to leave.

You shut your mostly-empty portfolio and tuck it to your chest.

A hand wraps around your wrist, unyielding.

Steve’s stormy blue eyes are felt more than seen, his hold tightening, trying to inch you closer, but you rip away.

“I’ll send you a memo,” you tell Steve without looking directly at him. “Keep those. I have copies.”

Fast as you can in heels and a skirt, you hurry after Topaz and past the food, fleeing first to your office and then to your own home.

[Day 83: 6pm]

[tender first aid drabble; Big Girls Don't Cry]

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

A/N: Ahhhhh! Next up is how Steve makes it up to you...or at least starts to...😱😵‍💫🥴

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

@brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @late-to-the-party-81

@bigtreefest @rogersbarber @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads

@fallinallinmendes @rach2602 @royalwritersoftheuniverses

[holylulusworld]

Big girls don't cry masterlist

Summary: You are no stranger to heartbreak.

Pairing: CEO!Steve Rogers x Plussized!Reader

Warnings: angst, Steve being a douche, fat-shaming, strong reader, sadness, mentions of former heartbreaks, heartbreak, break-up, more to be added

A/N: I turned this request into a mini-series. I hope you like it anon.

Big girls don't cry - Prologue

Big girls don't cry (1)

Big girls don't cry (2)

Big girls don't cry (3)

Big girls don't cry (4)

Bucky got this - snippet

Big girls don't cry (5)

[vibraniumarm06-bucket]

A Friendly Smile From the Past ~ Series Masterlist

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Reader [with College!Bucky/High School!Bucky in flashbacks and mentions

[Ongoing series]

Summary:

When you were young, you were friends with a neighbourhood boy who liked the same things as you. You both grew up together and as long as you had each other and the rest of your friends, there was always a make-believe adventure right around the corner. He grew up to be a successful businessman and seems to have forgotten where he came from.

You haven’t talked to him or the rest of the close-knit group of friends you used to be in years, but the death of a person who had been involved in all of your lives brings him and everyone back to the old neighbourhood. Does time allow you to reconnect and reintroduce him to the life he left behind? Does it allow you to build back the friendships you lost? Will you finally confess your feelings to him? Or is it too late?

One: I'm Fired?

Two: The Funeral

Three: Explaining can be hard

Four: Why won't you tell the truth?

Five:

[deliciousangelfestival]

Hello everyone. Suppose you have followed me for a while; you probably know the Strawberry Kisses and Candy Wine series.

Thank you for reading and the reblog @thezombieprostitute It reminds me that someone still enjoys my old work. 🥰

I decided to make the whole summary longer. Here is the complete version ❤️

Story Summary:

CEO! Steve Rogers visited a Y/N bakery called 'Dear Cake' almost daily. Steve falls in love at first sight with Y/N, and she's the same. 

So Y/N used to work in a food company and she was part of the food development team, creating new snacks and food.

She's a hardworking girl and has created some delicious snacks. But then her hard work got stolen by her coworker, Harry Osborn.

She felt burnt out and heartbroken because someone enjoyed her work. Y/N couldn't do anything since Harry is the son of the CEO of the company she works for.

Then she quit, and her brother Peter helped her build her cafe. That's where she meets Steve ❤️

******

At the party, Steve finally meets Y/N again. Y/N was surprised too. It turned out Natasha had been trying to make Y/N and Steve meet, but both of them were busy.

Y/N and Steve talk to each other at the party. Both of them didn't know that they could have met sooner if they hadn't rejected Natasha's invitation.

It was a company event, which means there were a lot of guests. Harry was also invited. Harry saw Y/N with Steve. Harry talked low about Y/N and told her to come back because it's her duty.

Y/N was traumatized because of Harry. Steve saw everything. He held Y/N and punched Harry in the face.

Harry swore that he would sue Steve.

Steve told him, "You could try."

Steve saw Bucky and told him, "Terminate every contract with Osborn company. If their next leader is like him, it will be ruined in a year."

Y/N saw Steve as a hero.

Harry doesn't realize how powerful Steve is in the business world. They're not on the same level, which is why he never noticed Steve before.

Tomorrow morning, Harry will get scolded by his dad because their company just lost a big contract.

Since that night, their relationship has been getting closer and more romantic. ❤️❤️❤️

In the end, both of them married and had two cute daughters who always helped their mother to bake a cake. Steve always came home and got his daughters to always welcome him with cookies they made. 

The end.

Epilogue : Bucky's son and Steve's daughter are getting together. Bucky's son told his parents, "I've found my wife." 🤣🤣🤣

[sokovianheadtilt]

Tug of War (11)

Steve Rogers x black!reader

Summary: Y/N caught the attention of her boss, who’s determined to win her over

A/N: Hellooooo everyone :) again, so sorry for not updating since November, was a little lost on where I want this story to go and plus being a college student doesn’t give me enough time to write, but it’s summer, i’m BACK, and working on new chapters and plot points, love you all <33

Warning: angry reader, threats of violence 

SERIES MASTERLIST

After dinner with Y/N’s mother, Steve did everything in his power to lift your spirits, took you out on dates, showered you with the love and affection you deserve, basically treating you like his queen, like he’s been doing….time a million, and Y/N could admit, it worked wonders. Her confidence was back, she felt on top of the world because she had everything she ever wanted…until now. 

Steve’s been extremely busy for the last few weeks. He’d come home late from the office, missing dinner, coming in with a kiss on your cheek as he changed out of his clothes and fell into bed, letting the exhaustion from his day overtake him. You did your best to be supportive, knowing he was working extra hard to maintain the lifestyle he’d built from the ground up. Now that his efforts didn’t only affect him, but the love of his life as well? He was willing to work a few extra hours to secure deals that would pay off in the future and lead to more time with you. But Y/N was fed up. She missed him, she missed his hugs, his kisses (real ones not quick cheek kisses like you were his grandmother), the sex- god she missed the sex. Steve knew how to leave you trembling and gasping almost every night and her vibrator could never replace the real thing. Y/N knew she had to take action. 

It all came to a head today. You texted Steve asking if he would like to get lunch with you so you could spend time with him and discuss a new business venture you wanted to pursue, and when he said he had a meeting during that time, you snapped. You put on your favorite dress, a pink, skin-tight, sleek dress with matching pink heels with your matching purse, making sure your hair and makeup was done to perfection before leaving to drive to the office.

Getting out of the car, you stormed inside, the click of your heels could probably be heard from the floors above you with the way you were stomping to the elevator. As she got on and pressed for the top floor, the floor you knew was for executives only, you looked up as the numbers in the elevator changed before the doors opened and you stepped out. You knew where his meeting room was and went to go inside, yet it was guarded by security who stopped you when you tried to go inside. 

“Ma’am we can’t let you through here, this room is occupied” the tall burly man said to you as you scoffed 

“I don’t care! I’m going inside whether you like it or not” you were getting angrier than you were before. You never got angry often but when you did…it wasn’t a pretty sight. 

“Ma’am I’m going to have to ask you to leave” the guard said as he crossed his arms 

You let out a humorless laugh “You think you scare me? You can make your threats all you want but I’m getting in there” 

He went to grab your arm to take you out but you bypassed him as you went to open the door, storming inside the room. 

 “Steve Rogers!” your voice boomed 

The room fell silent, filled with powerful men and women, looking bewildered at what was happening, probably judging you silently but you didn’t care, you had one target in mind and he was sitting right there at the head of the table, looking as handsome as ever. Steve’s eyes widened as he quickly stood up “Flower what are you doing here?” He saw the security guard come in to take you away but Steve held his hand out, letting him know not to do anything, god knows what he would do if he saw another man's hands on you anyway.

“You think you can blow me off for lunch like it’s nothing?! Do you not know who I am?!!” you yelled at him

“Fairy let’s take this outside” Steve tried to reason with you 

“No! I haven’t had time with you in weeks and I miss you, but no, you’re working all the time while I sit in that big house by myself with a cat for company” you crossed your arms over your chest 

A man sitting at the table cleared his throat as he spoke up “You couldn’t have done this another time? We’re kind of busy here, the drama can wait” 

Your eyes widened at his words as you dropped your purse and went to jump over the table to attack him but Steve was quicker at grabbing you and carrying you out of the room as you yelled “This is none of your business you fuck-wit! Don’t be mad at me because I actually love my partner, you asshole!” You were thrashing in Steve’s arms as he set you down outside the room and cupped your face in your hands “Baby, baby- please calm down” he said gently 

“Is work more important then me Steve? Has it come to that already? It’s only been a YEAR, didn’t think I’d lose your interest so fast” you shoved him away 

“No no no, of course not flower” he reached out to take your hand “I’m so sorry I made you feel neglected, it wasn’t my intention at all. These guys are some potential partners for the firm and the more hands on deck, the less work for me in the long run. I’m doing it for us baby” he reasoned with you 

“And I thank you for that, but Steve I hate how late you come home, how when I wake up you’re already gone” you started to tear up “We haven’t had dinner together in so long, no quality time” you hiccuped “I hate it” you sniffled as he pulled you into a hug and kissed the top of your head “I am so so so sorry my beautiful girl. I never want to make you feel like you aren’t worthy of my attention. I can barely breathe when we aren’t together, and I promise I’m going to do better” you looked into his eyes, seeing the regret and sadness within them as you leaned up to press a gentle kiss to his lips “I forgive you, but this better not happen again”

He nodded quickly “Never again” he leaned down to kiss you again 

“Also, storming into my meeting? Kinda hot” he said with a smile as you giggled “I’m sorry about that, I went a little crazy” 

“Don’t apologize my peony, you were upset” he rubbed your back “Okay, I’m going to go and finish this meeting, you want to sit in on it with me?” he asked as you nodded “Then afterwards, I’ll let someone else take care of the rest of my work and I’m all yours” you smiled softly as he led you back into the room, sticking your tongue out at the security guard as you passed by him and glaring at the man who decided to stick his nose in other people’s business. 

Picking up your purse from the floor and handing it to you, Steve sat back in his seat as you sat in his lap, like a queen on her throne. 

“Now, where were we?” 

taglist: @ljstraightnochaser@pastelbabygirl19 @datsavageavenger

[scarlettromanov]

Business as Unusual - Chapter 2: The Contract

pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanov x Reader

word count: 4.1k

warnings(18+only): brief mentioning of Steve Rogers; eventual kate bishop; CEO! Wanda Maximoff; Brief mentioning of Stephen strange; Jealousy; Dom/sub; Domestic Fluff; Eventual Smut; Hurt/Comfort; Childhood Trauma; Mob Boss Natasha Romanov; Smoking; Food; Caffeine Addiction; mention of drugs; Alcohol; Mentions of Violence; mob wife Wanda Maximoff; Angst; NO CHEATING!; all parties communicate; brief Stephen strange slander

Chapter Two: The Contract

The afternoon sun drapes across you as you lay in bed. Absent-mindedly you flip through a copy of the newspaper. The driver said you could take it. You needed to prove to Wanda that you had read something right? The material is dry though. After flipping past the sports section you quickly look over the business section.

A picture of Natasha and Wanda stares up at you. Natasha’s arm wrapped around Wanda’s waist. Wanda wearing a red turtleneck sweater underneath a black blazer. Her hair is curled perfectly. Natasha wears a black jumpsuit, a deep v extenuating her figure. Their wedding bands are clearly visible. Wanda is staring lovingly at Natasha, and Natasha is staring straight at the camera with a small smirk. As if to say “don’t you wish you were me?”

Maybe- yes you would like to be Natasha, or Maybe you’d like to be Wanda. Both women clearly had an effect on you, but you couldn’t deny the small twang of jealousy as you stared at Natasha's hand wrapped around Wanda’s waist. You wished that she would hold you like that.

You sigh, and briefly skim the article. Sales were up 75% from the last year. You knew this. You crunched numbers for Steve all day. Although your salary was subpar, you felt a sense of pride knowing you worked for a successful company. After perusing a few more articles you flip to the funnies, and laugh at the latest Garfield comics. Truthfully, you wanted to look at the comics first, but you couldn’t report to your boss that you read The Song of Achilles for the fifth time. The business section seemed like the next best option.

The rest of the day goes by slowly. Your nap is cut short since you are unable to stop replaying the events of the morning in your head.  Tossing and turning, you day dream about the way her fingers brushed against your cheeks. Running clumsy fingers over the bandage on your chin. It’s not until you wince from the residual pain that the daydream ends.

After failing to sleep you take a walk in the park, like Wanda told you to. The feeling of the sun hitting your cheeks has you feeling light on your feet. You really can’t remember the last time you took a leisurely stroll. If you were being honest with yourself, your life had become train ride after train ride between work and the city. Ever since your breakup six months prior, the weekends felt like long gaps of time filled with binge watching shows, and going to the laundromat. Speaking of which, you desperately need to do a load of laundry this weekend. You finish up the day with a good old fashion bowl of Ramen Noodles, and then settle into bed. The small dragonfly night light in the corner of your bedroom helps calm your nerves, as you drift to sleep.

The next morning you are dressed, and about to head out the door when the buzzer to your apartment goes off. You wonder if you should answer it, but decide against it. Absolutely not wanting to be late to see Wanda this morning. The elevator is out again, so you take the stairs two at a time down the 8 flights.

Stopping dead in your tracts you notice the very expensive Rolls Royce parked outside.

“Ms. Y/L/N?” A man in a suit asks as you attempt to sneak your way past him. Skidding to a halt, you turn and look at him. He wears a pair of ray bans that hide his eyes. His expression is unreadable.

“Depends on who’s asking?” You ask giving him the side eye. The dark haired man is about six feet tall, but you gazed up at him unafraid to back down.

“Ms. Maximoff ordered the car.” He says shrugging, jerking his thumb back at the Rolls Royce Phantom behind him. You peer around him at the sleek black car. Not comprehending what exactly was going on here.

“Wanda what?” The words falling from your lips in disbelief.

Just then your phone buzzes in your pocket. Instinctively you reach for it.

From: Unknown

Public transportation is unsafe for a good girl like you.

See you soon. Let me know what to have MJ pick you up from Russo’s.  - W.M.

Your mouth falls open as you look up from your phone at wannabe Men In Black. Wanda ordered a driver to get you to work this morning? Swallowing, you try to find your voice, attempting to muster up some kind of confidence.

“Tell me your name.” You tap your phone against his chest lightly. He doesn’t seem phased by your nosiness. His medium length brown hair is scraggly at his shoulders. It doesn’t quite fit the rest of his persona at the moment.

“James.” He quirks a half smirk.

“James, thank you. Cars make me nervous, please get me to Wanda safe.” He fully smirks at you now, looking over the tops of his sunglasses. Revealing a set of sparkling blue eyes.

“You got it, Ms. Y/L/N”

He opens the door for you, and you slide in with ease. The smell of leather fills your nostrils. James ignites the engine, and pulls away from your apartment. Staring at Wanda’s message. You type one reply. Delete it. Type another reply. Delete it. Finally you hit send.

Not even a minute later your phone buzzes again. Your heart does a kick flip in your chest. Wanda sent another message.

You let her last message sit out in limbo. It wasn’t that you didn’t like breakfast. It was the fact that eating with Wanda made you feel like there were golf balls in your stomach. Resting your head back, you just hope that Wanda didn’t have pancake breakfast waiting for you.

Half an hour later, James pulls up outside of the office, and turns to look at you. He removes his sunglasses and gives you a smile. He’s pretty handsome.

“Have a good day, Y/N. Have Wanda call me if anything comes up.” You thank him, and open the door. You had to admit that you sort of felt cool rolling up to work on time in a fancy car. Co-workers probably thought you were ubering to work.

If only your clothes matched your little fantasy. Quickly you make your way into the building. Ignoring the anxiety that you felt knowing you were working directly with Wanda. You let the giddiness wash over you. Without hesitating you hit the elevator button and take the ride up to Wanda’s office. The doors of the elevator open, and you step out with more pep in your step than you felt in months. Absent-mindedly you chew on your lip from the subtle anticipation.

MJ was already at her desk, her brow furrowed as she squinted to read her computer screen. Her glasses sit perched on her head, and you wonder for a moment if you should tell her. She looks up at you, and her smile lights up.

“Good Morning, Y/N,” Her voice sounds chipper enough for 8:45 a.m. on a Thursday. Either way you are glad to see your potential new friend.

“Morning, MJ,” You smile back at her as you approach Wanda’s door.

“You take bright and early very literally,” She giggles, and you nod your head giving her a sheepish smile.

“I am a very dedicated employee,” You mumble, followed by a small laugh, before reaching up to give Wanda’s door 3 small knocks. Your skin is buzzing in anticipation. Heart sitting in your throat as you hear the clicks of Wanda’s Heels heading straight towards you. The door swings open, and her green eyes meet yours.

“Good Morning, Y/N. Come in,” She’s pleased with you being early. She gestures for you to enter. From behind you Wanda lifts the straps of your backpack from off of your shoulders, and lowers it to the floor next to her desk. Before you sit down at the desk, you hear Wanda’s heels retreating towards the coffee table and sofa. So you turn to follow her. She sits in the armchair opposite of you, and you eye up the array of fruit and croissants. Silently, you thank her for not getting pancakes. Attop of of a small black and red coaster you see it. Your black coffee. You lick your lips as you can smell its aroma in the air. Was it obvious to Wanda that you were a caffeine addict?

“How was your ride into town? Cozy?” Wanda asks with a smile. Her red lipstick looks fresh, and you wonder what brand she uses. The drugstore brand that you used on special occasions rubbed off almost immediately.

“Yes! Thank you again. You definitely did not have to do that,” You blush as her actions mean more to you than you think she realizes.

“Like I said, public transport isn’t safe. It gives me peace of mind knowing you’ll arrive here every day.” She crosses her legs, flipping her hair over her shoulder again. You notice that she does this whenever she wants to come across as nonchalant. You ignore her attempt to set you at ease. You desperately want to know why she cares this much about your well-being. For now though, you nod your head, and grab a few pieces of sliced kiwi from the tray. Wanda’s eyes light up seeing you attempt to eat.

“Is this alright? I wasn’t sure what you liked to eat in the mornings.” She gestures to the trays of food.

“Oh. Y-yeah. I’m not much of a breakfast person. I love fruit though,” You pause, and grab a croissant from the tray, placing it onto your plate, “And croissants actually are my favorite pastry. ” You smile, breaking open the pastry to reveal the dozens of layers of butter and pastry. They were fresh, and you could tell. Wanda eyes you with a warm smile. She reaches for her drink, and takes a sip. She closes her eyes, and you can tell that she’s enjoying this moment of bliss.

“What kind of drink did you get?” You ask when she opens her eyes again. To your surprise her cheeks turn the slightest tinge pink. Wanda Maximoff, embarrassed? You silently bask in how cute she looks when she blushes.

“Would you judge me if I said a lavender oat milk latte?” Wanda says, looking away from you. You giggle, it should have been obvious to you that she was drinking a beverage so queer coded.

“So you are judging me.” She quirks an eyebrow at you, and you try to stifle your laughter.

“No! No! I just should’ve known,” You wave your hands trying to let her know that you’re being playful.

“I’m confused,” Wanda’s Sokovian accent bleeds through for a moment, and you notice. Ignoring how adorable she’s being, you attempt to explain,

“It’s… you know… queer.” You do a little flick of your wrist. Hoping she understands the gesture, and that the age gap between you two isn’t going to ruin the moment. You take a sip of your coffee now feeling just how dry your mouth felt from the nerves.

“Well that would explain why I've had people slip me their number after I’ve ordered this drink.” You inhale suddenly from the way her words throw you off. Unfortunately you had been in the middle of sipping your coffee. Immediately you choke on the liquid. Wincing at the burning sensation in your throat. This is what you get for attempting to drink a scalding hot drink without waiting for it to cool. Wanda jumps to her feet to help you. You hold up a hand.

“I’m fine- I’m fine!” You assure her, but the look of worry doesn’t leave her eyes. Clearing your throat a few times, still trying to push down the giggles

“Is it that funny to believe that someone would hit on me?” Her voice is completely serious. Heart sinking into your ass and you fall silent. Giggles long forgotten. With burning cheeks you look down at your hands again. This is it, she’s going to fire you for being an asshole. You think to yourself. Shame filling your thoughts.

You bite your bottom lip, and then reply, “No, I can believe it.” Meaning it since you know you would hit on her if you had an ounce of confidence (and obviously weren’t already her employee).

“I’m screwing with you, Y/N.” Wanda’s replies, a smile in her voice. When your eyes meet she winks at you. Of course she’s screwing with you. Wanda always found a way to make you squirm. A small part of you knows that she loves to see you flustered. Your brain couldn’t help but short circuit when she would wink at you; make a joke at the copier, or by making faces at you during staff meetings ( when you both were clearly not listening ).

“Relax, Sweetheart.” Taking a few deep breaths you feel the blush disappear from your cheeks.

“So now that we’ve established that my drink is extremely gay. Let’s get to business.”

You nod, and stand to grab a piece of paper and a pen. Wanda reaches down to her bag, and pulls out a stack of documents. She leans forward, and places the document gingerly into your hands. It’s a nondisclosure agreement . Your eyebrows knit together, and you absentmindedly sit back down on the couch.

“Wanda, why am I signing an NDA?” Wanda places a few pieces of fruit onto her plate, and plucks a grape in between her thumb and forefinger. She eyes you with a look that you can’t quite understand. Her tone is serious when she replies,

“Do you trust me?”

You don’t hesitate before replying, “Absolutely.”

“Sign the document,”

You stare down at the stack of papers, and flip through it. Once, and then again for good measure.

“Always crossing your t’s and dotting your i’s. Very thorough,”

You didn’t know how to tell Wanda that your dad is an attorney. Growing up, despite his general dislike of you, your Father made sure to stress the importance of reading a document before signing it. Right now though, you push his words out of your head. Clicking your pen, you sign on the line above your name.

“Thank you,” Wanda says before taking the document to her desk. You can feel the questions dancing behind your lips, and she notices.

“You are my personal assistant, and data analyst for Natasha and I’s affairs.”

You raise your eyebrows. If you were Wanda’s personal assistant, what did that make MJ? That poor girl probably needs this job more than you do.

“What about MJ?” Your voice is full of worry.

“MJ is my company secretary, you will be filling in the gaps for any other needs Natasha and I have.”

Natasha? Your heart rate speeds up at the thought of Natasha telling you what to do, and when to do it. You mull over her words, honing in on her choice of words. MJ was her company secretary, does that mean your work was outside of company limits?

“What are my hours?” You ask, running a sweaty hand through your hair. Your palms are clammy, but you don’t want to jump to conclusions.

“You will be on call for me and Natasha. When we call, you answer. This isn't a company position, Y/N. You do understand that, don’t you?”

Does this mean you were fired from your old position? Picking at your cuticles, You cross your legs, squeezing them together. Feeling hot tears well in your eyes. You blink them away. No, not here, not in front of the one person you so desperately wanted to impress. She could not see you like this.

“I can’t believe I got fired.” Your voice is full of emotion. Self Deprecation setting in quickly.  Wanda shifts in the arm chair across from you. You refuse to look up at her sudden movement. Your cuticle begins to bleed as you pull on a hangnail. The world grows smaller as you retreat into yourself. Wanda moves to the seat next to you. She places a reassuring arm over your shoulders. She smells of vanilla and honey. Her closeness comforts you.

“You’re not being fired. You have a choice. You can continue to work for Steve,” Wanda pauses, giving your shoulder a squeeze,  “or you can quit and work for me and Nat. The choice is yours, dear.” You lean into her with a bit of your body weight. She doesn’t shy away from contact. If anything, the grip on your shoulders tightens. A choice between crunching numbers all day for Steve Rogers, possibly never moving up in the company. Stuck under someone else's thumb. This offer from Wanda felt like a step up somehow. And despite not being much of a materialistic person, you cannot deny that a chance of a raise sent a thrill through you. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, feeling the slow rush of excitement setting in.

“I choose you and Natasha.”

“Good choice, honey.” She winks at you again before turning to wrap her arms around you. Your head rests briefly on her shoulder. Wanda pulls away, her  hands resting on your upper arms, thumbs stroking back and forth. Your eyes lock for a brief moment, as you smile at each other. Wanda’s mouth hangs open the slightest bit with a smile.

Wanda’s office door opens, and you jump in your seat. It breaks you out of your trace, but Wanda doesn’t move. Her fingers are still stroking your arm.

“Good Morning, my love,” Wanda’s voice is full of love as you both look over to see Natasha. She is breathtaking in high waisted black trousers, and a low cut satin white blouse. The clicks of her stilettos barely audible as she moved. Her curly red hair pulled in a braid down her back. For a moment you felt like the world stopped as you took her in. Sure, Natasha had hired you. But if you were being honest, when you knew she was going to be in the office you would purposely stay glued to your desk. Steve would have meetings with her in his office, and she would always be sure to say hello to you.

“Good Morning,” Natasha’s voice is always throaty and low. She pauses before making her way over to you and Wanda, “I see that you’ve already started, I’m sorry for being late.” She leans down, and kisses Wanda. You divert your eyes, not wanting to seem like a pervert.

Wanda said nothing to you about Natasha being here this morning. Natasha settles herself in Wanda’s arm chair. Carefully she takes a manicured hand and picks up a strawberry from the fruit platter. Her cherry red lips wrap around the berry, and she hums in delight. Your hands, which are still on Wanda’s arms, tighten as you watch Natasha. She pats your arms with her hands, and releases you.

“Let’s get the paperwork together, and then we’ll get you settled.” Natasha sets the leaf of the strawberry on a napkin. Before sitting back in the chair. Her arms resting lazily on the arm rests, as she looks at you. Meanwhile you have a death grip on your thighs. Wanda holds up the signed NDA, making it clear to her wife that your lips were legally sealed. Natasha nods her head with a smile.

“So Y/N, how does it feel to be free of grandpa Steve?” Wanda stands,  and passes by Natasha. Wanda ran a love hand up Natasha’s extended arm. You stare at Natasha, convinced that your face is the color of a cherry tomato. Her eyes clearly amused at your flustered state.

“Well, I don’t think I’m going to have to teach either of you how to work Excel. So it’s definitely a step up.” You mutter.

Natasha lets out a low chuckle. She is the picture of ease sitting in her chair. Her confidence radiates off of her, and part of you feels a bit envious.

“You’re right, Wands,” she says before taking a sip of her own coffee, “she is funny,” Wanda hums in response, as she carries another stack of documents over to you. She sits down next to you. Your legs brushing up against each other lightly. To your surprise it’s Natasha who speaks next. Your eyes lifting to meet her green orbs. Her features have gone completely neutral. So different from the playful woman who sat before you just moments before. Wanda lays the contract on the coffee table at your knees.

“Read the contact over, carefully,” Natasha waits for you to nod your head before continuing, “Your salary, living arrangements, days off, are your decision. However, I will not pay you over $150,000 a year, and you cannot take more than 3 months off a year. Your choice of apartment must be within two blocks of Wanda and I.” Natasha’s voice hangs heavy in the air. Has the room always been this humid?

You think you’re going to be sick from the rush of adrenalin. $150,000 a year and moving? You were barely making $40,000 in your current position, and your lease wasn’t up for another six months. Wanda notices the shift in your body language, and places a gentle hand on your back. Her thumb rubs circles into a knot in your lower back, and you fight the urge to squirm under her touch.

“Read it over, dear,” Wanda’s voice is soft in your ears, and obediently you pick up the contract.

This agreement establishes The Terms of Employment between the following parties:

Wanda Maximoff-Romanov and Natasha Romanov (Referred to as Party 1)

And

Y/N   Y/L/N (Referred to as Party 2)

Party 2 is herein referred to as a “The Assistant’’ and is set forth to be available to Party 1 on a 24 hour; 365 day basis.

The parties hereby agree to the following provisions as the terms and conditions of The Assistants Employment :

The Assistant must live within walking distance of Party 1’s home apartment;

Party 1 is to help The Assistant settle into her live quarters under the terms  of the contract;

Neither party may discuss the contents of the contract with any unapproved persons;

The Assistant is to keep all personal matters which involve Party 1 confidential unless Party 1 approves of the individual ;

Clothing

Food

Material Indulgences

Affection

Open Communication

You continue to flip through the Agreement, digesting that you will have to move in order to fill this position. What will your father think? You wonder briefly before you remind yourself that if your father wanted to have an opinion on your life then he would have to be an active participant. Rather than a judgmental asshole who swoops in to kick you when you’re already down. The reminder of his very existence has you grappling for a pen.

“Where do I sign?” You say with an air of confidence looking up at Natasha. Her red lips pull into a smirk. Her eyes darken, and she leans forward in her seat. Her elbow resting on her knee, and a hand holding her face. Wanda's thumb stills on your back, fingers tightening. You fight the urge to lean further back into her touch.

“Last page, sweetheart,” Natasha’s tone is warm, and you feel your insides fuel with excitement  as you sign your name above the dotted line. The details could be sorted through later. Right now, all you could think about was the thrill you felt under Natasha’s gaze, and Wanda’s hand on your back.

TAG LIST: @Whitewidowsbite @Marvelcnt @Cherlenovix @Blackwidow-3 @Santana1437 @Madelineleong @tbpandtswiftfan

[buckrecs]

2022 Bucky Barnes Fic Rec 5

masterlist | req masterlist

All of them are COMPLETE Series.

✨ - fav fics

Status - Completed

1. I Remember All of Them by @tuiccim

Bucky x Agent!Reader

After Hawkeye’s retirement, you are assigned to the Avengers as the new sharpshooter. You form a special friendship with Bucky but when friends turn to lovers Bucky suddenly turns cold. Were you just another conquest of Bucky Barnes’ or was something deeper at play?  

2. Eye For An Eye by @sinner-as-saint

CEO!Bucky x Reader

Battered and bruising, Y/N is out to seek sweet revenge from a man, James Buchanan Barnes, who tore her family apart 10 years ago. Y/N’s plan was simple; infiltrate his life, mess with his head, toy with his heart and leave him broken. Headstrong, she will stop at nothing, not even when it comes down to her being the villain in her own story...

3. Little Lavender Friend by @thepsychewrites

Roommate!Bucky x Reader AU

The stories and encounters you and Bucky face as roommates, best friends, and eventual lovers.

4. Tempestuous by @sinner-as-saint

King!Bucky x Reader

With his kingdom flourishing in peace, and no threats from enemies; recently crowned King - James Buchanan Barnes sets out at sea. With his finest ship, the best crew ever recruited, and a deep desire to see whether the edge of the world truly exists; the King sets sail. Hoping to find the marvels of the ocean, to find beauty and magic even; however he ends up finding a fiery soul – one he cannot get enough of. But then again, no love story is ever perfect, is it?

5. Can’t Fight the Feeling by @sidepartskinnyjeans✨

Bucky x Agent!Reader

After the second snap the world rejoices at the return of their friends and family. But for the Avengers their home is destroyed. Steve and Tony move the homeless Avengers back to the Avengers Tower. With only a few usable floors they're paired up to support each other from the shock of returning and the changing world. Some are happier with their room allocation than others. Can you and Bucky make it work?

6. Nothing to Despair by @bvccy

Soft!Dark!Bucky x Reader

Bucky and a girl he never met before have to go undercover as married on a mission to Europe. He feels alienated in the modern world, while she goes through life alone and abandoned. Maybe they can find a new home in each other, but she’s not easily convinced.

7. Soldat by @the-fallen-nightmare

Winter Soldier!Bucky x Reader, Slight Steve Rogers x Reader

Captain America and Reader have worked together at SHIELD for over a year. What happens when they have a run in with The Winter Solider and Steve finds out the secret Reader had been hiding from him all this time? And what happens when reader is captured by Hydra and The Winter Soldier, again. Can she make Soldat remember her or is her life with Steve just a slow fading memory now?  

+ Soldat Trilogy

8. pansies, pain and other things about bucky | sex and sage flowers by @bucky-bucket-barnes

Bucky x Enhanced!Reader (2 parts)

You and Bucky are begrudgingly paired on a mission together. This is less than ideal considering neither of you are too keen on the other tagging along. All goes as normal until a surprise attack severely hurts both of you. Feeling incredibly guilty, Bucky helps you tend to your wounds. He has trouble admitting it, but he wants to make sure you’re safe.

9. Mr. Grumpy by @holylulusworld

Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader

Bucky hates omegas. You change his mind.

10. Picture Perfect by @writingsoftheloser ✨

Bucky x Reader Modern AU

When Steve asks his collegue to be his fake girlfriend, she accepts, thinking nothing could really go wrong. Then, she meets Steve’s best friend.

11. Show Me Love by @lenavonschweetz

Professor!Bucky x Reader

Where sex-on-legs Dr. Barnes is your History professor that makes it impossible to pay attention in class.  Perhaps it’s the danger of it all, but god help you - you can’t stay away.

12. Siege of the Heart by @world-of-aus

Chubby!Bucky x Reader

With a ring burning a hole in his desk, bucky begins to have second thoughts

14. Bucky Barnes | 2 by @assembletheimagines

Dad!Bucky x Reader (2 Parts)

Bucky Barnes, the winter soldier, a ghost story, deadly assassin and-

15. All We See by @kiritella

Bucky x Reader

You’re the person Bucky goes to for a breath of fresh air, the one who’s smile is the brightest, the one that has the softest voice.  You are sweet and kind, something he is falling for a little more every day, but you have someone, and he respects it...what happens when he finds out your special someone turns out to be a monster you can’t seem to get away from?

16. Deception by @avecra

Mob!Bucky x Stark!Reader

Growing up in the dark business your father ran, violence wasn’t new to you. Rivalries and bloodbaths were something you unfortunately were used to. And in order to save your father from an unnecessary fight, you force yourself into an arranged marriage with Brock Rumlow. But when he threatens your father over a small mistake on your part, you find yourself in front of your husband’s biggest rival and your old friend, Bucky Barnes. With the shared history between the two of you, Bucky finds himself drawn to you once again, and will risk everything he has just to keep you safe.

17. Радость моя (+7 series) by @assembletheimagines

Dad!Bucky x Reader

Bucky being a dad.

18. The Light We Lost by @world-of-aus

Mob!Bucky x Reader

James Buchanan Barnes had been it for you, and you wanted to believe that what the two of you had, was you making it. You wanted to be the other side of the statistics that actually made it, but your marriage wasn’t meant for this life. You fought hard to make your way back to him, to get him to see you, but life had a funny way of kicking you down when you were already down.

19. Typo by @shurisneakers ✨

Doctor!Bucky x Reader Social Media AU*

What happens when he texts the wrong number and suddenly there are memes and friendships involved.

*I’m not sure if I should put this as Social Media AU so tell me if I’m wrong plz😅

20. Bucky and the Bed by @that-damn-girl

Bucky x Agent!Reader

You and Bucky are stranded in the middle of a snowy nowhere when there is an 'electronic blackout' during your mission. With no back ups or any way to contact your team, you take refuge from the worsening weather in the only cabin you find  in miles. Not to mention, with no power, Bucky's become your personal heater and there's only one bed.

21. drifting by @real-jane

Bucky x Reader

bucky saves the life of a woman when she's buried in an avalanche. faced with the possibility that his cover might be blown, bucky must keep the woman alive, and try to keep her from finding out who he is... or what he's done.

22. My Favorite Flower by @theyoutubedork

Bucky x Florist!Reader (2 Parts)

Bucky goes to your floral shop to get flowers for all the unsuccessful dates he’s been on. Soon, he only goes to buy flowers for an excuse to see you.

23. Misfire by @shurisneakers ✨

Bucky x Reader

The four times Bucky tries to ask you out and fails.

24. Project V by @babyboibucky

Bucky x Reader College AU

You ask your best friend Bucky a favor of a lifetime.

25. The Only Exception by @whitestarbucky

Bucky x Reader Soulmate AU

Humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves. A lesson that taunted Bucky Barnes his whole life. Perhaps it was why he refused to believe in it. He couldn’t afford to. Then you came into his life to challenge his fears to their deepest degrees, not once, but twice. Whether he liked it or not.

26. Untouchable by @dreamwritesimagines ✨

40’s Bucky x Reader

What happens when Bucky Barnes falls in love with someone he shouldn’t have?  

27. I Want to Hold Your Hand by @thismustbefakeme

Bucky x Reader

Set after TFATWS. Reader is part of the Newly appointed Captain America's growing team. Reader has had a crush on Bucky and vice versa. When they finally admit their feelings...shenanigans ensue.

28. obsidian by @bentobarnes

Bucky x Avenger!Reader

you and bucky lead a peaceful life after the big battle with thanos but what happens when one day everything starts getting a little big stranger?

29. home for the holidays by @classylo

Roommate!Bucky x Reader

your mom had been pestering you for weeks about coming home for thanksgiving and bringing along the boyfriend you've kept secret for so long...

30. 10 Signs an Introvert Likes You by @andyl394 ✨

Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Bucky wasn’t the type of guy to show his feelings and neither were you the one to notice subtle things, until you come across this video; A guidance that may help you discover rather The Winter Soldier likes you or not.

31. Blink Twice by @simmerandwrite

Bucky x Reader

It was just an undetermined amount of time in a safehouse with a stranger: Bucky “I didn’t come here to make friends” Barnes himself. Would it really be all that different from your lonely life with your cat in the city? Bucky was basically a cat, anyway. He was quiet on his feet, only really made noise when it was dinner time, and you both seemed to just coexist without acknowledging each other. His mandate was to keep you safe. What could go wrong?

32. face the sun by @buckys-darling

King!Bucky x Queen!Reader Royal AU

To ensure the prosperity of their two kingdoms, a determined Princess and reluctant King are to be wed. She is willing to commit, but he can’t seem to let his lover go.

33. Don’t Say Anything by @cumonbucky

Bucky x Reader

You finally decide to tell Bucky that you’ve been in love with him since the day you met but what happens when you walk in on him with a girl? And not just any girl; Natasha.

34. Love At First Grade by @buckysimp101

Single Dad!Bucky x Single Mom!CEO!Reader

When father and first grade teacher Bucky Barnes ends up with Avery L/N in his class, the daughter of the “ruthless” CEO of L/N Enterprises, he's in for a surprise that's sure to change his life.

35. Seventy Years by @writingcroissant

Bucky x Reader

You were with Steve in the Hydra Valkyrie when it crashed into the Arctic. 70 years later you wake up in an entirely new world and have to find out a few heartbreaking details from your past. It’s hard to find your bearings in the world that’s so different than the one you’re used to and just as you think you finally managed to find your way back, a certain someone unexpectedly returns. But he’s not the guy you used to love.

36. The Friendly Wager by @justsomebucky ✨

Chef!Bucky x Reader Modern AU

Reader and Bucky Barnes are neighbors and best friends. After yet  another bad date, reader comes home to find Bucky with his typical  weekend target. They decide to make a wager about dating, but is there  more on the line than reader cares to admit?  

37. Love or Hate by @justsomebucky

Bucky x Reader Modern AU

When the reader’s shot at a better life is stolen from her, she  continues to see the person responsible all over town. Will she learn that there’s a fine line between  love and hate?  

38. all you need by @traitorjoelite

Publisher!Bucky x Author!Reader

just after finishing college and your first novel, you meet bucky barnes - a friend of a friend, a publisher, and hopefully something more

39. Bucky’s Got Game | Doc’s Got Game by @real-jane ✨

Bucky x Doctor!Reader (2 Parts)

Bucky's got a crush, and Sam's a little worried about whether or not he's gonna see it to fruition.

40. The Holiday Hack by @gogolucky13

Bucky x Reader Modern AU

You ask Bucky to be your stand-in boyfriend for your family’s Christmas party.

41 The Quest For Love by @sgtjbuccky

Bucky x Reader Modern AU

Work has always been a priority for Bucky, leaving things like love long forgotten, and for him it’s no problem, but for Sam and Steve it is the biggest problem to grace this earth. Fed up with Bucky and his constants protest and avoidance of love, they set him up on a series of dates to find the girl of his dreams with the help of the magical spirit of December. Only for Bucky to realize that love isn’t always found where one goes looking for it, but may be close by.  

[espinosaurusrexex]

Watchful Eyes

CEO!SteveRogers x Female!Maid!Reader AU

read Bucky's story here

summary: When your best friend gets you a new job, cleaning the apartment of the most successful man in New York City, you don't hesitate to accept. The pay is more than good, and the man himself is better than any eye candy you have ever seen. Unbeknownst to you, you've caught his attention just as much. Steve can't keep his mind off you, so much so, that he drives everyone around him insane with his grumpiness when you aren't around. It seems like he has to take matters into his own hands when he realizes, you're too shy to take things further yourself.

a/n: So that just happened... I don't know where it came from, but please enjoy. (Please don’t be discouraged by the word count - I promise you it’s worth it and I kindly ask you to at least try 💛)

word count: 10.8k

warnings: power differences, Steve is pining, watching someone over secret livestream (is this stalking?), women being referred to as objects (not by Steve), just so much fluff, and also angst (there is a happy ending!), smut (masturbation - m, praise kink, oral - f receiving, dirty talk, orgasm control, overstimulation, unprotected p in v, size kink, breeding kink) !MINORS DNI!

ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ✶ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*･ﾟ

“Can you start Monday?”

“I can start Monday.”

“Perfect.”

Holy fuckidy fuck fuck. 

You had a job. A job that would crinkle some noses but it would pay money. Good money actually. Well, better than other offers in the branch.  

It had been luck, really. Because during one drunken night, which had originally been dedicated to drowning yourself in self-pity over the last job that had let you go due to staff cuts, your friend Natasha had crashed your party with Chinese food and gossip from her workplace. She was an assistant for one of the CEO’s of Shield Protection Services. And during her lunch with Sharon, the other assistant, Sharon had complained about Steve Rogers and how he had fired the third maid this month because they, apparently, were taking pictures of his home or selling some of his things. 

There might have been some talk about how picky and stuck up he could be but the important info was that Sharon was desperate at this point and had asked Nat if she knew anyone with the decency not to breach privacy and willingness to clean the CEO’s home. 

The good thing - or bad thing, you weren’t sure - was, Nat knew you were desperate too. So she gave Sharon your number and before you knew it, you were an employed woman again. 

❁ ❁ ❁

It was too early for you to be roaming the streets of New York, but you had gotten instructions and so you had gotten up at 6 and headed out to the address. And when you arrived, it felt as though it was the first time you blinked since the subway - you were that tired. Definitely not a morning person.  

The building was huge, tall glass fronts stretching into the sky and the ride up to the penthouse took longer than your average elevator rides did. 

The doors opened and revealed a beautiful open floor plan. A whole wall of windows brought natural light into the place and offered a view so breathtaking, it took you a moment to collect yourself. The place was ginormous - a lot to clean up - but seemed tidy enough to at least get started right away. 

You placed your bag on the counter by the kitchen and took more of the place in when suddenly, a voice startled you. 

“Who are you?” You whipped around, big eyes searching for the source until they landed on a tall man standing in what seemed to be a dining area - well, one of them at least. He had broad shoulders, neatly styled hair and one of those toothpaste smiles you only ever saw in magazines. He was wearing office attire, blue dress pants that slightly stretched over his muscled thighs, and when your head wandered back up his body, piercing blue eyes seemed to stare right into your soul. 

Holy Shit. 

Before you stood Steve Rogers, three-time Forbes Magazine cover story, young entrepreneur turned filthy-rich hunk of a man, and CEO of the most successful security firm in this country. And he was talking to you - staring at you... waiting for an answer. 

Talking, you needed to start talking, you reminded yourself.

“I’m the new maid, sir. I’m so sorry I was told to come here at 7 as you leave for work before that.”

Mr. Rogers looked at you with an unintelligible stare. Meanwhile, you were nervously wringing your hands in the doorway, looking down. You hadn’t planned for anyone important to see you today. The worn-down Fleetwood Mac shirt you didn’t mind getting bleach on hanging over some pants you pulled from the back of your closet definitely wasn’t the kind of outfit you expected to greet Steve Rogers in. Great start. This was going awful.

“Well I’m here aren’t I?” His arms folded before his chest as his eyebrow raised, impressive biceps bulging beneath the white button-up, and - damn - it was hard not to stare. 

“Right. Yes. Sorry. I’ll come back later.” You turned to leave again but he stopped you.

“No need. I am on my way out.” The left corner of his mouth twitched into a cheeky grin when he grabbed his bag, left the newspaper discarded on the table, and placed his coffee mug in the sink. Interesting.

“Don’t snoop.” He whispered teasingly as he passed you, a whiff of expensive cologne paralyzing your senses and you weren’t sure if he was making a suggestion or actually warning you. That damn perfume seemed to hypnotize you. 

Your eyes followed his broad shoulders until they disappeared behind the corner and then the elevator doors shut. It seemed to take all the tension from your face. You exhaled long and then began to look around some more.

The place was huge, you’d already established that. But when you found the third bedroom amongst the private office and Pool table room, you knew you had to make a weekly plan to work off. You had to give Mr. Rogers credit, though. There was rarely any clutter lying around - it wasn’t dirty per se - just had the usual dust you’d expect in a place this size with only one person living in it. 

You huffed, resting your hand on your hips once you completed the tour. And then you got started. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve peered up from his computer screen when Bucky strolled through the doors of his office. A coffee in hand he had most likely tweaked from his assistant's desk on the way here, he shot a grin to his oldest friend and business partner. 

“What ya doing, punk?” The brunette asked teasingly when he circled the desk and settled on the window sill behind Steve. 

“Just making sure things stay in order.” He leaned back and turned around slightly, just in time to see his friend nod knowingly.

“Heard Nat got you a new maid.” Bucky dipped his chin towards the laptop still open on the desk. “That her?”

His eyes wandered to the screen where a live feed of his apartment streamed you changing his bedsheets. He hummed in agreement. 

“She’s pretty,” Bucky commented before sipping his coffee again and Steve felt an unfamiliar feeling bubble in his stomach. “But I bet you don’t care anyway. You’re all ‘don’t sell my stuff’ and ‘having things stolen from a security firm CEO is embarrassing’. Wouldn’t know a pretty thing like that if it climbed you.”

“Because it is embarrassing. And I highly recommend you monitor your staff to make sure they don’t do the same.” Of course, Steve knew you were ‘pretty’. Exactly his type, to be honest. He had noticed it the second you stepped into his apartment this morning. The way your hands wrung beneath you. And he had shot you a teasing remark in hopes of discovering a sassy fire in those timid doe eyes of yours. But you had stumbled over your words like a fawn.

Bucky clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Nonsense. Peggy is great - and too old to even carry anything valuable out of my place. I trust her with my life and house keys.” And then he pushed off the sill. “I think it’s time for you to get laid again. And that’s why I’m a great friend and organized dinner and drinks with Tony and Sam tonight.”

Steve fell back in his chair, hands over his eyes. “I don’t need your wing-maning me. I’m perfectly fine on my own.” 

“Sure.”

“I’m serious, Buck.”

“You can thank me later.” He stout towards the door. “You know... after you’ve been devoured by the pretty little waitress at the Ironbar.” Bucky winked before his face disappeared again. 

Steve just huffed as his eyes landed back on the weekly report on his desk and then swayed back to his computer screen. 

As unwilling as he was to admit it, it had been some time since his last late-night rendezvous. And as he saw you crawl up on his bed to place the bedsheets properly along his mattress, he felt his pants tighten slightly. 

❁ ❁ ❁

“We’ll get one more round of the good stuff.” 

“Of course Mr. Stark.” Tony winked and patted his waitress’s butt before she stalked away on her high heels and towards the locked glass cabinet behind the bar. 

Steve had designed it himself, a fiberglass shrine-like display for ridiculously expensive liquors, only to be opened by a passcode that got regenerated every week. He watched as Betty - the young and lanky waitress - retrieved a crystal bottle of whiskey and filled four glasses with the golden liquid. 

“God, I love that thing,” Tony sighed next to Steve and watched Betty with a satisfied smile.

“You better be talking about that cabinet, Stark.” Steve shook his head with a frown only to receive a wink from Tony, who was sitting closest to him at the round table. 

“So...” Bucky leaned over to Steve and spoke in a hushed voice. “You see anything you like?” He gestured at the bar where Tony’s carefully picked waitresses passed with filled and emptied glasses and bottles. They were all wearing tight black t-shirts and skirts or shorts that counted just as scandalous. One could foolishly mistake this place for a Hooters if Tony hadn’t made it one of the most pristine bars in all of New York City. 

It was popular amongst the clientele which mainly consisted of bored rich men that came here to get something to look at without being judged for it. But Steve wasn’t feeling the girls today. When Betty shoved her breasts in his field of view, all he could think about was how he had never gotten the idea to get his maids a uniform that catered to his... liking. And when Betty swayed her hips on her way to the bar, his thoughts became clouded by the image of you in a short little skirt, riding up just a little to tease I’m about what was hidden underneath when you kneeled on his bed to get the sheets sorted. 

Steve adjusted his pants at the little flashback, clearing his throat and sitting up straighter in his seat. 

“Oh, apparently you have...” Bucky grinned before his eyes hushed down to Steve’s crotch and back up just as fast. “Well then,” he leaned back with a satisfied grin. “Which one is it? Samatha? Tiffany? Though I think Megan is more your type.” 

“Just shut up, punk.”

“Okay you don’t have to tell me me... either way, my job here is done.” He brushed his hands off fake dust and smiled smugly. “You better be in a good mood tomorrow.” 

Steve just huffed and waited for Betty to come back with ‘the good stuff’ to hopefully drown out his annoying friends for the rest of the night. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them. No, he would do anything for the people he chose to have in his life. The group he found himself in right now had been through thick and thin with him, stayed through his fame and fortune, and was just as supportive before it had all happened to either of them. He was happy having the guys because they built each other up and aimed for greatness - together, they were fucking invincible. 

But sometimes, Steve felt a little out of place amongst Bucky and Tony. It was in situations regarding women most of all because he could never adapt the attitude to talk about them the way they did. And he never had the headspace to juggle as many as they did. He had tried the one-night stands. But he struggled to navigate the superficial pleasure maze New York City provided in masses. Because just as the ever-passing smiles on the streets, it wasn’t fulfilling enough for Steve. At least not in the way it was for his friends. 

He wanted what Sam had. A partner, a family, something constant and beautiful. And that was, why he found himself asking for pictures of Sam’s kids and nephews rather than listen to Tony’s latest bed bunny endeavor whenever the conversations took a turn in that direction. 

“Earth to Rogers,” Sam’s finger snapped in front of Steve’s face. “What this I’m hearing? You got a new maid? What happened to the old one?”

“She sold his stuff on Craigslist.” Bucky snorted and took a sip of the drink that had magically appeared in front of them. 

“You aren’t serious.” 

“I really liked that tie,” Steve grumbled into his cup. 

“Man, I’m glad I don’t have to deal with things like that. You rich people really are a different breed.” 

“You’re rich, too, Sam.” 

Sam just smiled above his crystal glass, having fun with the little joke he liked to pull for ages now. He wasn’t any less successful than any of the other men at their table. But other than them, he had settled in a beautiful neighborhood - despising the concrete jungle each of the other guys lived in. His house felt like home, like a cozy place that had seen love and time and nothing like the polished and sleek man caves the rest of them owned.

“Well, anyways, my amazing assistant organized him a new one, the prettiest thing - really. But he’s refusing to see it.” 

Tony chuckled. “Well, that's Rogers in a nutshell, isn’t it.” 

Sam just pursed his lips and glanced over at Steve with a soft smile, ignoring the comments of the other guys. They never explicitly talked about it, but Sam was a smart man, and it would have surprised Steve, had he not already figured out that he was more of a family man than their friends were as of right now. 

“To new maids that aren’t selling your clothes on the internet then.” He raised his drink and winked at Steve once their glasses clinked. 

And Steve? He visibly exhaled, silently thanking Sam for pulling the tension out of their conversation. 

❁ ❁ ❁

It had been a little over a week. And so far, things had been going great. 

By now, you had cleaned through the entire place once and set up a plan of what to do on which day. You weren’t surprised it actually took a full 6 days to cover every single room in Mr. Rogers’s apartment. You had already figured out which tasks were going to be your favorite and which weren’t. Like his bedroom. You liked doing that. Because even though the sheets were a bitch to get on the ginormous bed, you kind of liked the smell the room had. His pillows smelled of the cologne you couldn’t forget ever since the man had brushed past you on your very first day.

You were pretty sure you would never forget that since your knees literally felt like giving in at that moment.  

Today, it was bedroom day. That and the on-suite. 

With a smile on your face, you entered the apartment on the top floor, each day secretly hoping you’d catch a glimpse of the CEO before he took off to work. But even though you tried to arrive ten minutes earlier (you really couldn’t spare any more sleep for your own good), the first day remained an exception in Mr. Rogers’s daily schedule. 

You placed your bag on the stool at the open kitchen island, changed into some other shoes, and headed for the supply closet. Despite the size of the place, you actually got around pretty easily. Mr. Rogers was a very organized and neat man - you’d noticed that the first and only time you met him. So things were almost always where you’d think they would be. Which made your job just that much easier. But also prevented you from the advised ‘not snooping’ you desperately wanted to do. 

You knew better though. 

People like Steve Rogers probably had cameras installed in this place. And you would certainly not go and rummage through his underwear drawer after he had personally told you not to. Who knows what strings powerful people like him could pull. So, for the sake of not waking up on a cargo ship to Madagascar one day, you restrained yourself as much as possible. 

Of course, you didn’t stop your eyes from wandering whenever you swept the shelves in his walk-in closet or closed the drawers in his office space. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. And this girl had a nosy best friend on her back that wanted to know every little detail of her new job... and was also way too invested in celebrity gossip.

Though, as always, there was nothing out of the ordinary today - there never was. Sure, it was still exciting to see how the filthy rich lived but other than that, no scandalous collection of women’s underwear, or drug lord papers lying around. You started to believe that Steven Grant Rogers was a very boring man. Not that you could properly judge in your position, seeing as you did not really know him, but the whole being in his home seemed a little too intimate not to do so. 

So that day you finished the tasks for the day, packed your stuff, and made your way back home, hoping to see him in the morning or to at least find something more interesting than dust in his home. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve greeted the concierge of his building when he entered the marbled entree hall. With a little frown and a look at his watch, the man greeted him back before he resumed his work. 

Yes, Steve was home earlier than usual. He regularly stayed even longer than his original work schedule intended. Today, however, he was home even earlier. But after another banter with Bucky about Steve’s non-existent sex life, he couldn’t imagine making it past five in the same building as his persistent best friend. So, he fled the office and decided to work through the rest of his papers at home. 

Of course, Steve knew that Bucky only wanted the best for him. But the ways he tried to approach the supposed bothersome loneliness Steve had in his bed just weren’t for Steve. Those might have worked on Tony - hell, Tony probably invented setting his friends up with one-night-stands - but not on Steve.

He huffed and swiped some loose hairs from his forehead as the elevator dinged at the top floor. The doors opened to the window front of his penthouse apartment and Steve stepped over the threshold, immediately stopping in his tracks when he took in the scene before him. 

The vacuum was running while you were kneeling on the floor, wiping up some water he only assumed came from the vase missing next to his sofa. He would have found it rather amusing if it weren’t for the way you carried yourself today. Something wasn’t right. 

Steve knew that you weren’t usually this messy - that much he could tell from the livestream that had become a constant in his office by now. Your head hung low, your motions hurried and sloppy. He watched as you swiped the floor, one of your sleeves constantly slipping down your arm again until you angrily pushed it up further than necessary. 

It was worrisome. 

He couldn’t place the feeling he felt in his chest when he sat his briefcase down and approached you from behind. His foot carefully turned off the vacuum and then he stood still, careful not to startle you when you finally looked up at him. 

He could see it in your eyes then. The panic, the uncertainty, and something else he hadn’t seen in them before.

You looked around you as if you were seeing the mess for the first time and when Steve was still watching you with an arched brow after a minute of silence, you suddenly sprung up to your feet. 

“I am so Sorry, Mr. Rogers. I didn’t realize it was this late already.” You turned a full 360 until your eyes landed on his again. “I’ll have this cleaned up in no time and I'll be out of your way. I promise.” 

Steve watched as you scrambled to gather the vacuum cord, struggling with it when it didn’t immediately snap back into the caster. “The subway was stuck in a tunnel for an hour because some guy decided to pull the emergency break for fun. And then this lady passed out next to me and when the fire department finally got us out and the paramedics packed her in the ambulance, I realized that I still had her purse.” You finally got the cord in turning so fast that the wet rag in your hands sprayed some water on Steve. “And do you know how difficult it is to find out which hospital they’re taking people? Because it’s so much more difficult than it looks in the movies. I didn’t know that! And then it was almost 10 a.m. when I got here. I am so sorry. This won’t happen again I promise-“

“Hey,” Steve finally stepped forward and caught your flailing hands with his and it shut you up. “It’s alright.” He spoke softly, guiding your hands down and proceeding to carefully stroke your arms down. “Are you okay? Do you need a day off?” 

Your doe eyes stared up at him, round and shiny as if you couldn’t believe he was actually standing in front of you. And Steve had to admit, besides the concern breezing through his body, your face was capturing up close. He traced your lashes with his gaze, the way your lips were parted slightly, your teeth showing past your upper lip, and the way your eyebrows were raised in shock. 

“No... no, I’m fine.” You finally stammered and it made Steve relax a little. 

“Then take a breath for me, please.” You nodded and Steve watched as your shoulders moved when you inhaled with your eyes closed. It shook Steve out of his trance. He cleared his throat and retreated his hands from your arms, awkwardly standing up a little straighter now that there was no excuse to touch you anymore. 

You were fine - that’s what you had said. But you didn’t quite seem that way. 

He watched as you opened your eyes and gifted him a small smile. Then your gaze dew to the floor and the mess you were standing in. Your smile turned awkward. 

“I’ll clean this up real quick and then I’ll be out of your hair.” 

Steve shook his head with a smile. Maybe this was a nice opportunity to do as Bucky had suggested. It was true, Steve hadn’t been interested enough before. Had he taken more time to know his former maids better, he could have probably prevented his things from being stolen and sold. Maybe it wasn’t exactly what Bucky had meant by ‘interested’, but Save decided it would do for now. “You can do what you need to and you can take as much time as you need to. I’ll be in my office for some time, so please don’t rush. I didn’t mean to freak you out by coming home earlier.” 

His arms reached up to scratch the back of his neck and your eyes landed on his bicep. Those damn doe eyes. “O- okay.”

He nodded, buried his hands in his pockets, gifted you a tight-lipped smile, and then proceeded to grab his briefcase and disappear into his office at the end of the hall. 

After some time, he heard the vacuum pick back up. Steve peaked through his open office door and caught a glimpse of you roaming his living room every now and then. It was relieving to know that you were functioning again. You had him worried for a second there - a feeling the successful CEO hadn’t welcomed in a hot minute. But it was kind of nice, made him feel a little more human than usual. So he didn’t mind having you work while he was home. On the contrary, actually, even though he had a huge stack of papers to go through, having to do them with a little bit of white noise was much more efficient than he had thought. He liked it when the occasional sound of items being set down snook its way to his office just to be interrupted by the vacuum again. And before he knew it, the workload he had taken home with him today, was worked through. 

Steve made his way to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. Though, as he waited for the machine, he found himself leaning against the counter and watching you work in front of him. You were currently bent over the sofa, arranging the cushions after shaking them out, your shirt riding up ever so slightly and exposing a strip of skin on your back. 

The fresh grounding of coffee beans covered the way Steve gulped loudly at the sight of you in front of him. This was definitely different than watching on his laptop screen. He felt his pants tighten ever so slightly as he imagined walking up to you and just taking you from behind. Your face would press into the pillows as he would easily push into you, hearing your drawn-out moans through the cushions. 

He couldn’t help himself, you were just so pretty. 

The smell of coffee drew Steve back to reality. It wasn’t that simple. Because Steve wanted you to want him as well. But you didn’t know him well enough yet. 

You pulled the vacuum around the corner and seconds later the sound of the storage room door closing echoed through the apartment. You walked back into the living room, adjusted the book on his coffee table, and then looked at your work with your hands on your hips. It was kind of cute to watch, Steve had to admit. 

“Well done,” Steve praised and your shoulders jerked in surprise. 

“Woah, didn’t see you there, Sir.” You relaxed again and then moved to change your shoes, before packing the other pair in your bag. You looked like you were about to leave, but Steve didn’t want that. 

“Would you like some coffee?” He offered and turned to grab the mug that was just filled with the steaming hot beverage. 

But you shook your head, raising your hands. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude. I’m sure you’ve got work to do...”

“I wouldn’t have asked if it were an inconvenience.” 

You looked down and nodded, which made Steve smile and hand you the cup. Your hands encased it like it was a cold winter's day, timid looks roaming the room and landing everywhere but him. 

“You seem uncomfortable,” he tried, cautious not to intrude. 

“I’m not. It’s just that... I’m not used to,” you gestured around the kitchen, “all this.” 

“I know it sounds stupid but sometimes I feel the same.” Steve took in the high ceilings and shiny surfaces, the expensive paintings and furniture he had no part in picking out.

You just stared at him again before nodding and averting your eyes once more. It seemed like you were holding back, but Steve didn’t feel like he was in the position to ask. So he just had to do with your fleeting glances and diffident presence. It was fine for now. Though he didn’t know if he could actually stand it for long. 

“You got this job through Bucky’s assistant, right?”

“Natasha, yes. She’s my best friend.” Your eyes lit up and Steve celebrated the little victory in silence. He had finally found something to talk about with you. 

“How long have you known each other?” He took a sip of his own coffee, acting indifferent, though his gaze hung on your lips. 

“We’ve been friends since high school. But then we went to different colleges and for a moment, we lost contact. But when I called her after graduation, we reconnected. We coincidentally both moved to New York. It’s nice to have her back.”

“That does sound nice. I know a thing or two about reconnecting with old friends.” Steve smiled reminiscent. 

“Right, your business partner. Mr. Barnes.” You set your mug down when Steve shot you a surprised look. “Sorry, but it’s hard not to know things about you when every tabloid in the country has covered your story.”

Steve nodded, being reminded once again how different his life was now. Not that he didn’t appreciate it... it just used to be simpler. 

“Yes, Bucky is my oldest friend... we’d lost contact in-between as well. Now we spend so much time together, I sometimes wish it was that way again.”

“You don’t mean that,” you laughed and Steve swore it was the prettiest he’d ever heard. 

“Of course not.” He set his cup down once he noticed that you had finished your coffee and had grabbed your bag from the stool. 

“I should go,” you smiled sadly and Steve just nodded with a similar expression on his face. Then he pushed off the counter and walked you to the elevator. He caught your small wave before the doors closed, leaving his stomach feeling warm and fuzzy. 

This was definitely new.

❁ ❁ ❁

The next week was pure torture. 

Steve couldn’t work from home like he had wanted to. He also couldn’t go to work later to at least catch a ‘good morning’ from you. 

It had only lasted a couple more days. He had managed to trap you for a conversation with coffee two times after the first one and then it all went downhill from there. 

Steve’s work seemed to pile up in unusual amounts of papers on his desk. His e-mails and meetings were longer than ever and his frustrations built with every new message Sharon redirected to his phone.

It wasn’t until Bucky pointed out how unusually grumpy he was, that Steve realized, he missed you. How could that have happened? He barely knew you and talked to you even less than that. But he knew he was missing you. Because as silly as it sounded, the time he spent with you, he was more relaxed than ever before. 

“I’m headed home, now. Do you need anything before I go?” Sharon popped her head through the door of Steve’s office after the knock she placed there. 

Steve just sighed as he closed one of a dozen tabs on his computer. Then he shook his head. “See you tomorrow.”

“Bright and early!” She beamed and Steve just waved her off. 

The door fell shut once again and Steve moved to close a second tab. The one open beneath was the video footage of his home. It was paused because Steve had categorized it as ‘not suited for work’ once he saw you climb on his bed to straighten out the sheets and his dick reminded him just how deprived he really was. 

Looking at the paused video now, his pants tightened again. There you were, on all fours on his bed, tugging the sheet under the headboard side of his mattress - ass up and struggling. Fucking hell. 

His hand instinctively moved to his crotch to relieve some tension and then his eyes fell to his office door. Sharon had gone home. He was likely the only one left. His gaze wandered back to his computer screen and before he knew it, he was rubbing his hard cock through his pants. 

He groaned lowly at the feeling spreading through his body, the image on his screen just intensifying the scenarios he usually imagined when he got himself off. Because now they had your face. And your perfect body. If he squinted at the screen, he could actually see a sliver of your underwear peaking out the top of your pants. 

“Jesus Christ,” He pushed through his teeth when his hands worked to open his belt and pulled his rock-hard length out. He was already leaking from the angry red tip. 

His thumb grazed over his sensitive flesh, spreading the beads of precum and his whole body shivered when he imagined you doing it instead. His knees spread further apart in his office chair as he squeezed the base of his cock, concentrating on his breathing to slow. And then, without thinking, his other hand moved to play the video. 

Steve’s eyes never left the screen as he watched you tug the sheets tight. Your ass bounced up and down with the motion and he began to pump his shaft, imagining pushing into you from behind. Then you crawled back slowly, careful not to pull the sheet off again, but one corner came loose anyway. As you leaned forward, your new position seemed even more obscene - with your arms stretched forward and your ass still slightly lifted off the mattress. 

Steve’s fist pumped harder up and down his cock, he was panting. He could already feel the orgasm building. His balls were on the edge of bursting - but he wanted to hold out a little longer. 

For a second, his gaze jumped to the little speaker icon at the bottom right corner of his screen. His right hand still pumping with a tight grip, the left moved to slightly turn up the volume on the stream. 

Just then, you released a frustrated groan, followed by a throatier, softer noise that could almost be mistaken for a moan and Steve lost it. His fist stroked his thick cock in hard fast motions, the tingle in his body building with every heavy breath you released. His thumb grazed over his tip when you fell forward like a fawn and it was enough to make him burst. 

He closed his eyes and threw his head back on the chair. With a last firm push, he tumbled over the edge, squeezing his flesh as he felt the hot ropes of cum cover his hand. His heart beat in his ears once the ecstasy subsided, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths.  

Steve stared at the ceiling, sighing in defeat. He was in deep now. 

❁ ❁ ❁

“So... how’s it going?” Nat’s voice rang through your speaker and you pressed your phone a little harder to your ear to hear her over the street noises. 

“It’s going really good. I don’t see him that often but he’s not messy at all, so it’s really not that bad.”

“Good, I’m glad!” Nat cheered on the other end of the line and you could hear her computer keys clicking beneath her fingernails. “Anything you wanna tell me?” Her tone was suggestive, and you kind of hated how well she knew you. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on, we’re stating the obvious here. He’s hot!”

“Nat!” You gasped appalled. “I’m not going around asking you if you think your boss is hot.”

“Why not? I'm not ashamed to admit it. My boss is hot,” she stated plainly and shorty after a distant ‘You got that right, doll!’ was heard through your speaker. 

“Oh my god,” you muttered, watching around you as if anyone could hear what Nat was saying. 

“So...?”

“Okay, yes he’s super hot and I wish he would just grab me with his big muscled arms and kiss the life out of me every time I see him. Are you happy now?”

“Yes, very.”

You waved at the concierge when you reached Mr. Roger’s apartment building and then stepped into the elevator. “Good. I can’t believe I just made me say that out loud.”

“We both know it’s true. No shame in a little crush.” You could practically hear her grin through the phone and it just annoyed you even more. How could she call you out when she was a mile away?

“Great, now I’m actually imagining kissing him and running my hands down his chest,” You huffed as the elevator door opened and turned the corner just to stop in your tracks. 

“I knew it!”

“Nat, I’ll call you later.”

“Okay, but-“ and then you ended the call as your eyes were glued to the kitchen counter. 

You stepped closer, your eyes never leaving where they had landed upon your arrival. There, on the polished black marble, stood a vase with a beautiful bouquet of pastel flowers. 

Your breath hitched in your throat as your fingers traced the colorful petals, and you leaned in to smell them. This was so sweet! A little giddiness shot through your body at the sight of the flowers. You’d never expected them from Mr. Rogers and it was nice to be appreciated. 

Feeling excitement all over, your fingers reached for the little white card lodged between a eucalyptus branch. But when you turned it over, all of it fell like someone had turned on gravity again. 

Happy one month!

Your mind repeated the words over and over again until they registered.

Happy one month.

You dropped the card and it made a dull clicking noise on the counter. How could you have been so naïve? Nat had put this stupid haze in your brain, getting you all giddy and excited. Of course, he had a fucking girlfriend. How could he not? He was Steve fucking Rogers.

You needed to take a step back and breathe. Those were a few too many emotions to feel in the early morning for you. Now you even felt guilty about wanting to run your fingers down his body. God, you’d even said it out loud - how embarrassing! 

“Okay, girl. Relax. Nobody heard,” you reminded yourself out loud. And then you took a deep breath with your eyes closed. 

“It’s not embarrassing if nobody saw. I’m the only one that can decide the level of awkwardness here.” Maybe stop talking to yourself then. You nodded and carefully placed the card back in the bouquet. 

“This never happened,” you whispered, more so to ensure yourself. “Just move on with your day.” 

Thank god it wasn’t kitchen day - you wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of those flowers any longer.

With your shoulders pulled back and your head held high, you made your way to the supply closet and got to work. 

It’s just another day. You reminded yourself when you pulled your cleaning supplies out and into the office. 

Just like any other day...

❁ ❁ ❁

Boy, had you never been any more wrong. 

Your phone rang at 7.30 that evening. You had already made yourself comfortable on your sofa, ready to binge a whole season of Gilmore Girls, after a successful day of pretending you hadn’t gotten the biggest turn-down of the century this morning. You had finished your cleaning plan, you had gone grocery shopping, bought yourself some own damn flowers, and even showered all before the sun had set. 

But now your phone rang and the caller ID could not mean anything good. 

“Hello?”

“Good evening!” Your name echoed through the speaker of your phone, a - for your taste - way too cheery woman on the other end. “I am very sorry I have to call so late. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“That’s alright, what do you need?” You bit your lip nervously, only dreading the next words of Mr. Rogers’s assistant.

“Well, actually it is not I that needs anything. Mr. Rogers requested for you to see him. Is that possible?”

“What? When?”

“Now would be amazing.” Your eyes widened at her words. Mr Rogers wanted to see you and it couldn’t wait until tomorrow? You must have done something horribly wrong. Oh, god, had he noticed you messed with the flowers? Had he seen you sniff his pillows? All possible scenarios of wrongdoing swarmed your head when you sprung up and bolted for your closet. 

“I can be there in thirty minutes,” you hurried through the speaker just to receive a satisfied hum from the other end. 

“Amazing! Thank you so much.”

She had hung you before you could even answer. It didn’t matter. You looked through your clothes, trying to decide what an appropriate ‘getting fired’ outfit would consist of - probably no sweatpants, so you could find the closest bar and drink your sorrows away in connection to the dreaded talk. 

You pulled out something, you could see yourself crying in and headed for the door.

❁ ❁ ❁

8.00 pm on the dot, the elevator doors opened to reveal a beautiful New York Skyline. Unfortunately, you neither had the headspace, nor the time to appreciate it properly. As soon as you turned the corner you saw Mr. Rogers casually leaning on the kitchen island. 

Instantly, you felt intimidated. He had never done anything to make you feel scared or in danger, but his mere presence was so powerful, you didn’t quite know how to act around him. Especially, because on top of it all, he was the most attractive man you’d ever laid your eyes on. 

“What did I do?” It just sprung out of you, your arms wanted to hug your body but you willed them still. He didn’t need to see how worried you really were. 

To your surprise, however, his face scrunched up in amusement instead. He pushed himself off the counter and gestured towards the flowers still standing proud on that polished marble top. 

“You forgot your flowers.”

“My... my flowers?” He nodded with a small frown, probably confused by your reaction. And to be honest, you were too. 

“Yes... I got you flowers. You’ve officially been working here for a month. That’s a record.” He shook his head with a chuckle and then rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m... very picky.”

His eyes met yours and a whole new wave of uncertainty washed over you. You didn’t miss the hesitation in his tone, the carefully chosen wording for something he didn’t exactly say. 

“So, I’m not fired.” God, why did it take so long for you to register. You just looked so stupid right now. 

“On the contrary.” Mr. Rogers took a step closer, though still keeping a respectable distance. “I think I can trust you. I’m very pleased with your work. You deserve them.”

“I do?” You looked up at him with big eyes when he took another step closer. He was so tall, you had to tilt your head up now that he was so near. 

“Can I trust you?”

His chest would almost touched you, if you were to breathe any heavier. Your breath hitched in your throat when the faint remains of his perfume reached your nose. It was as intoxicating - the way his eyes stared down at you - intense and looming. “Ye- Yes.”

“Good.” His voice was a raw timbre. His gaze drifted to the side, where his hand slowly reached up to lay on your shoulder. You felt warm and tingly from the touch. 

Not knowing what to do exactly, you just held your breath and stared up at his eyes. They were so blue - and up close, they were so much more captivating than any magazine photograph could ever display. 

You wanted to touch him, reach out, and pull him down towards you, but he had just told you he trusted you. Were you really going to risk this perfectly good job for a heated moment?

His other hand came up to graze your cheek with a careful touch and the worry of losing your job suddenly became very small. Mr. Roger’s hands were warm, his fingers almost hot even compared to your heated face. 

So you did it. Your hand reached forward and landed on the top of his chest, one of them traveled down the hard plane of his torso while the other clawed at his shirt collar. His thumb traveled to your lower lip, pulling it down and then stroking over the soft flesh, touching your teeth as well. 

Guided by the heat traveling through our body, your right hand tightened around his shirt and pulled him down and onto your lips. The blonde man jerked forward until his mouth crashed onto yours, immediately moving in perfect sync with yours. 

Your insides were tingling from the kiss when you felt his lips pull into a smile. His big hands roamed your body until they snook around your back, pulling you flush against his body and making you sigh contently. 

Mr. Rogers chuckled and then kissed you deeper. His touch was everywhere, yours too. Your mind was free of anything that wasn’t the tall, built, blonde man in your arms as soon as his tongue traced your bottom lip - asking for you to let him in. And you did just that. When he began to explore your mouth, you melted even further into his embrace. 

No man had ever kissed you like that. Which was why you dreaded the moment you had to pull away for air. 

Your hand landed on his cheek, thumb softly stroking his beard, eyes locked with his. 

“You’re very good at this.”

He just chuckled and pecked your lips once more. “Up.” He demanded, suddenly, he grabbed your thighs and lifted you as if you weighed nothing. 

“What are you doing?”

“I'm gonna show you how good I am at this.” 

Then he set you down on the bed and pushed you back until your head hit the comforter. His scent, the one you’d secretly been craving ever since you started working here, engulfed you like a big blanket. He stood above you, big and broad-shouldered, looming over you like a wild animal. But you weren’t scared.

“You know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” His lips attached to your collarbone, sucking and licking bruises to your skin until you moaned beneath him and your hands clung to his hair. “I’ve been watching you,” he murmured to your neck and a shiver traveled down your spine. 

“I knew it,” you gasped when he reached a spot behind your ears that sparked more pleasure. The thought of him spending his day watching you made you all excited and impatient. 

“The way you stumble about this place when you clean it... How do you navigate the world being this clumsy, Bambi?” A whimper escaped you at the nickname he chose for you. “You need somebody to take care of you, huh.” 

You arched your back to brush up against him. His hard cock was already straining his pants, pressing into your own deliciously. “Ah, yes.”

“Don’t worry, Bambi, I’m right here. I’ll take real good care of you.” His fingers traveled down your body until they reached the hem of your jeans and began to tug on them. 

You pulled him down to your lips once more, guiding his head back to that spot behind your ear that had you squirming on the sheets. “So needy.”

His voice was so low and husky now, you barely noticed he had already worked your pants open and halfway down your legs. You kicked them off the rest of the way and arched yourself back against him just to have him grind down on your core. 

“Feel so good, so big,” you mumbled through the haze you already found yourself in. God, what was it with this man - he was out of this world. 

“You can’t wait any longer, can you, Bambi?” His hands moved beneath your shirt and began to massage your breasts. “But I get it. I don’t wanna wait any longer, either.” 

In a swift motion, he had you flipped on your stomach, his hands traveling to your hips to pull you on all fours in front of him. Then the bed dipped and you felt his fingers press to your soaked underwear. He rubbed the drenched fabric over your entrance, only driving you wild with need when his fingers reached higher to your clit. “So pretty.” 

“I need you,” you whined, “need you so bad.” 

“Believe me, I need you too.” He pulled the black lace over the curve of your ass and you felt the cool bedroom air hit your wet core, only making you shiver once more. 

“You’re so fucking perfect, you know that.” You could only whimper in response when his hand pushed your head into the comforter and his face suddenly pressed into your pussy from behind. 

“Oh, god.” A yelp escaped you as his tongue teased at your entrance, only to be pulled back to lick a long strip from your clit back to it. His hand massaged your cheeks and the constant moaning to your core shook you from the inside out. 

“This isn’t enough, is it, Bambi?” He dragged a strong finger up your spine. “You need me to fill you all the way up, don’t you? Need me to mark you, show everyone you’re mine.”

“Yes, yes, fill me up, give it all to me. Fuck me and make me yours.” You were so desperate at this point. His mouth had you squirming and aching for the promising bulge beneath his pants and you couldn’t wait to feel him raw - you’d let him do anything. 

You turned your head and watched as he unbuckled his belt. Within seconds, his cock sprung free from its restraints and your breath hitched in your throat. He was thick and long, a prominent vein running along his side up to his tip, pink and already decorated by a bead of precum. Of course, Steve Rogers had a pretty cock. What wasn’t perfect about him?

“You’re so wet already, Bambi. So ready for my fat cock, aren’t you? You’ll suck me right in, I just know it.”

“Please! I wanna feel all of you.” Another whimper got swallowed by the mattress when you waited in anticipation for him to finally fuck you. 

His one hand grabbed your ass and the other aligned his cock with your entrance. You could feel his head already breaching, a delicious stretch sending shocks through your body in hot and cold waves of pleasure. 

He groaned lowly and it sent shivers down your spine. “Relax, baby girl. You’re so tight. You’ll be so stuffed with me.”

“I need you de-. I- ah just please!”

He worked himself forward with small rocking motions, each time reaching a little deeper into your core and when you thought he was finally all the way in, he pushed even further until your ass was pressed flush to his thighs. 

You screamed into the covers and reached for something to grasp when he groaned behind you. “Gripping me like a vice, Bambi. Are you gonna be able to take it?” He shivered behind you and you could tell he was struggling to hold still until you answered him. 

“I can take it. Your big cock feels so good inside me. Oh, god, please move.”

“Fuck.” Wet noises filled the room when he drew back almost all the way, just to slam back into you. In this position the curve of his cock stroked your walls perfectly, making it hard to hold back the building orgasm. 

“I’m so close already, sir. I’m-”

“Fucking call me Steve,” he roared and pushed your face further into the covers. “You gonna come? Gonna squeeze my cock with your pretty little pussy already, huh?”

You could only whimper in response, the steady stroke of his body clouded your mind until you felt like you were floating. 

“I-“Another scream ripped through your speech when the pleasure exploded within you. Steve slowed his motions, seemingly unable to move with the way your muscles contracted around him. And when the pulsing pleasure lessened after what felt like minutes, he picked his pace back up again. 

“That was so sexy. You gonna do that again for me? I’m so fucking close.”

His hand reached around you and began to massage your clit in tight little circles and your body lifted off the bed. Steve had pulled you up flush against his chest and watched his hand work on your clit over your shoulder. 

“’S too much! Ah!” You were still pulsing around his cock with every circle he traced on your bundle of nerves, making your legs quiver.

“You’re doing so good, Bambi. You can give me another. Milk my cock dry.” He kissed your neck and bit your skin. “So fucking beautiful, how’d I get so lucky?”

“Steve!” You felt another wave of pleasure approaching, just for his fingers to still on your clit, his hand now pressing into your stomach. 

“I’m almost there, baby. Hold it a little longer.” His face fell into your neck and you could feel his cock twitch inside you while his hot breath licked down your shoulder. “Don’t you fucking cum until I say so.”

“I don’t know if I-“

“Yes, you can!” Steve pushed you until you fell onto all fours again and then guided your hips to meet his hard strokes. His movements became frantic and fast, making you lose your mind. 

“I’m gonna fill you to the brim, Bambi. Make you drip with my cum for days. You’re mine.”

“Steve! Steve!” You couldn’t hold it any longer, it was too much. He was so big, and his movements so fast, there was no way you were lasting any longer. 

“Wait. Almost there.”

“I can’t. I can’t! I’m- Oh my god!”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuck.” With one last hard slam, Steve shot his hot seed in your pussy. Your walls clenched with every lewd sound he pushed through his heavy breaths. “Cumming so much for you, Bambi. All for you. Uhnggghh.” He rutted into you a couple more times and once the intense feeling faded into lazy pulses, he fell forward and pulled you into his chest. 

Still buried deep within you, Steve pulled the covers over your bodies. Every little movement made you squirm and your pussy clench down again, drawing small grunts from the man behind you. 

“You did so good.” His hand stroked over your hair and his face nuzzled into your shoulder. “Now, rest. You deserve it.”

And with that, you let your body fall into its well-needed sleep - warm, content, and without a care for the morning.

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve woke up to the sound of his alarm. He smiled before he opened his eyes, his mind still reminiscing the night before. He felt warm and content at the thought of it. Your kiss was like nothing else.

He felt around his bed blindly after turning off the alarm only to be met by a cold mattress. Opening his eyes, he called out your name and sat up in bed. But when no answer sounded from his apartment, he got up and looked for you. After a few minutes of searching, he was sure you weren’t there. And it worried him. He had planned to order you breakfast. He wanted to talk about last night. He wanted to tell you how much it had meant to him. 

A look at the clock on his wall made him frown. Maybe you’d gone home to change for work. He decided to wait and get to work a little later today. It would all resolve itself, Steve was sure. 

But when seven rolled around, there was no sign of you. And even after another 25 minutes, there was no indication you’d show up soon. Steve really couldn’t push his time anymore. There was a lot of work waiting for him at the office. So he got up and grabbed his briefcase, only to be interrupted by his phone. 

“Good morning, Sharon.” 

“Good morning, Mr. Rogers. I’m just calling to let you know your maid just called in sick.”

“What? Until when?”

“She didn’t say. But she’ll call when she is better.”

“Do you know what she has?”

“I believe that’s private. Mr. Rogers.”

Steve just hummed absentmindedly. His brain already playing all the possibilities in his head. 

“Would you be so kind so send me her number?” He asked almost hesitantly, but still demanding enough for Sharon to agree right away. 

“Of course, one second.” And then his phone pinged with a message from his assistant. 

“Thank you.” Sharon just hummed in response and then she hung up the phone, ever the busy assistant he knew her as. 

Steve didn’t hesitate to call you right away. With every peep. His heart hammered faster in his chest. And when he was about to give up, a familiar rustling rang through his speaker. 

“Hello?”

Steve took a second to breathe and then he said your name - steady but careful. 

“Mr Rogers,” you sounded surprised, and Steve tried to suppress the sting in his heart at the sound of his last name. You had called him Steve just last night. Why’d you stop?

“Yes... I heard you’re sick. Do you need anything?” He cringed the second he said it. You obviously didn’t want anything from him given that you had fled from his apartment before he even woke up this morning. 

“No, no. I’m good thank you.” There was an awkward tension in the static connecting the two of you. But Steve didn’t understand where it came from. Had you not enjoyed last night. Had he only imagined the affection you gifted him then?

“Well... I hope you are able to come back soon.”

You huffed into the phone. “Uh, yes. Okay.”

“Alright, then. I’ll see you.”

“I’ll see you.”

And then the line went dead. And Steve couldn’t shake the feeling that you had sounded a lot colder than before...

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve had taken the next day off. His mind was too occupied to work, anyway. He had caught himself glimpsing at his video feed several times that day, even though he knew you weren’t going to show. He guessed, somehow that you would appear anyway. It didn’t happen of course.

So today, Steve had to learn to do nothing. That included not thinking of you as well. Because as much as the thought of you distracted him from work, not working wasn’t exactly the best move to get rid of his thoughts. 

First, he had tried to stay in bed until 6. That was hard enough. Then, he worked out a bit, read an article, made a smoothie - okay he ordered one - and then he sat on his sofa watching as the clock above his fireplace ticked to 7 a.m. 

It was ridiculous. If every hour would pass this slowly, he’d go insane.

His fingers taped on his thigh as he watched the seconds hand tick. He had to do something, anything. 

The moment this thought passed his mind, he heard the elevator door ‘ding’ at his level. And before he could even turn around, your bag hit the ground with a loud thud. 

Steve stood up straighter, adjusting a tie he was not wearing, but the motion had become a habit. He was excited you’d shown up - visibly well and healthy that was. 

You stared at him for a solid minute and neither of you said a word. Your stare was unintelligible to Steve. He had to admit, that he didn’t know you well enough to read into your silent conversation yet, but he wanted to - he wanted to so badly. 

His hands moved to clasp in front of him and then he cleared his throat, but as he was about to say something, you moved past him, straight to the supply closet, and then disappeared into his guest bedroom. 

He followed you before he could tell his feet to stop, halting in the doorway of the room and watching as you dusted off the tall shelves above the sideboard. 

“What are you doing?” His voice was higher than he anticipated. 

“I’m working,” you answered bluntly, moving to the next object to dust off. 

“Why?” Steve had promised to provide for you just the other night. And, yes, while he might have been hazy from the incredible pleasure you had created, he had meant every word.

You suddenly turned to him with an angry stare. “I’m working because, unlike other people, I can’t just do whatever I want and not deal with the consequences,” you spat and then turned around again. The dusting motion turned a little more aggressive and Steve felt a cold shiver run down his back. Feisty.

Though, Steve couldn’t quite place your anger. Had he said something to offend you? How did the other night play into any consequences and why the hell were you working still? You’d said it yourself, you wanted to be his. And that was all he ever wanted. It just didn’t make sense.

Steve didn’t move. He just stood there like an idiot and watched you work your anger away on the poor dusty decorations of his home. You obviously didn't want to talk to him and he had no idea what to say to you. So he just watched... and watched until at least ten minutes had gone by. 

You were at a completely different corner of the room by now, trying to grab a book to dust off, but couldn’t quite reach. Steve had been standing in the doorway this whole time so he just assumed he was blocking your way to a ladder. But he took it as an opportunity instead. 

In three Long strides, he had walked up to you, reached for the item you stretched toward, and handed it to you. And for a second there, he could see those doe eyes return to your face, staring up at him.

Maybe he had misread the situation after all because your gaze drew him in again. He slowly closed his eyes before he could reach your lips, excitement rising in his veins when he thought back to the feeling of your lips on his–

*smack*

His eyes shot open when your hand collided with his cheek, a fire flickering in your eyes that made him take a step back, holding his heated skin. 

“You don’t have to mock me, okay?! I know it’s embarrassing and it’s stupid what we did, so please don’t make this more difficult.”

“What?” Steve was baffled, hurt. 

It was stupid what we did. Your words echoed in his mind until your voice penetrated the mantra. 

“Just leave me alone. Don’t you have work to do?”

He shook his head with an aching heart. You really had no idea. You thought he had used you, made you a bed bunny like Tony or Bucky would - he’d never do that. “I called in sick. I was so... forget it.”

You resumed cleaning and Steve just stood in your way watching. His chest stung with every second he spent with his eyes glued to you, knowing what you thought of him. He couldn’t stand it. He never wanted to make you uncomfortable, much less convey he’d only use you. 

“Can I ask you a question?” You ignored him, but he could see your movements stagger for a second. “Do you really regret what we did?”

Then you paused, your eyes trained to the surface in front of you. When you finally looked at him, Steve could see the tears shimmering in them. 

“No,” you whispered softly, Steve had almost missed it had his heart not skipped a beat. 

He instinctively stepped closer to you again, though cautious not to scare you away. He’d come this far and didn’t want to mess it all up again. “Then why are you ignoring me?”

“I'm not ignoring you.” It shot out of you like a bullet. You sighed, took another breath, and set the duster down. “We don’t know each other. We live in completely different worlds. There is not one scenario in which we could exist together as anything more than... this. I know that now.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re you and I’m just the maid.” You gestured to Steve and then yourself and Steve hated the way you degraded yourself just because he had a couple dollars more in his bank account. It wasn’t right. 

He shook his head, his hand reaching out to you but dropping just before he could actually touch you, curbing into a soft fist instead. “And what if I told you that you are much more to me than that?” Now he finally dared to lay his hand on your cheek, tilting your head so he could come closer to you and still stare into your eyes. “I like you. And the night– ever since you came into my life, my days seem just so much less dull.” 

He smiled with shiny eyes, afraid your silence would last forever. “Please say something, Bambi.”

“You like me?” There was awe and disbelief in your voice and Steve wanted to kiss it away until every last doubt was erased from your mind. Whoever had made you this insecure about affection would eat his fist. 

Steve bit his lip to hide the chuckle threatening to spill. “I do.”

He slowly got lost in your eyes again. Those beautiful innocent orbs looked at him like he was a different type of special. He loved it so much. 

His gaze dropped to your lips, slightly parted and full, and then back up. And before he could lose himself in them again, your hands latched onto his collar and pulled him down toward you. 

The kiss was all tongue and teeth, need and desperation melting into sighs and tingles - he could feed off of it forever. His hands roamed your body and pressed you deeper into his. Your arms reached around his neck as your noses bumped against each other in eager anticipation. 

Nothing ever felt this right. Steve couldn’t possibly believe you’d doubted the chemistry for a second. Not when it felt like that. But he wouldn’t need to think back on it anymore now... now that he finally had you.

I couldn't decide which GIF to use, so here are some extras!

If you’ve read this far, I would be so happy to receive a comment or reblog. It helps writers reach more people in the community and also improve themselves. So, if you have the time, please consider giving me some feedback :) until next time ~Meg 💞

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[stressed-chaos]

Forgotten Past - “Did you know?”

Part 4- Billy Russo x Fem!reader

Comments are always appreciated! I would love to hear your thoughts on how I should've improved this! If anyone wants to be tagged for future parts, they can let me know!

So, this has been a long time coming. I had meant to get it out sooner but then I started watching Heartstopper and then exams came. Sorry to anyone who was invested! This is going to be angsty, following will be too, cause we all well know Billy doesn't handle emotions well... I'm like...half sure if the arguments are logical, but guilt is definitely going to play a lot of part here.

(I know the gif is of Steve Rogers but it fits)

Warning: Panic attack, drinking, almost physical harm (but that's pretty short), punching

Y/N had to admit, she was impressed. Despite being a warehouse, she could see Anvil would soon turn into a huge business (if it wasn’t already). She wanted to go off exploring this new place but then remembered her purpose of coming here and the man beside her.

He did give her a tour though, answering basic questions she asked about their training and all. Thankfully, they didn’t run into any others for he would have seen through their lies in a moment.

His cabin gave the workaholic CEO vibes. Scarcely decorated. A desk, office chairs, the couch they were on and a mini fridge. There was also a small shelf to keep his files and there was a door, which she assumed was the bathroom. There was also another, maybe an exit. A single photo frame sat on his desk, filled with a picture of them. She recognised Billy’s arm around her shoulder. She looked…happy. Content.

“So, how well do I know you, Billy Russo?” She asked, keeping the frame carefully in its space, pretending she didn’t smile at the sight of it.

He coughed, muttering something she didn’t understand. Very well. He invited her to the couch.

“We’re…” what? Best friends? Lovers? Married? 

He sighed, and while her eagerly waiting eyes, which were actually looking through the room, moved towards the mini fridge, pulled out a bottle of beer, offering her one. “You already looked through all the exits, and I’m way too sober for this. Just one won’t hurt.”

He sat beside her, keeping a respectable distance. He clinked their bottles together when she accepted. Taking a break, Billy spoke, “We’ve known each other since we were kids.” 

“Best friends then.”

He chuckled, “And a lot more.”

She gave a confused look. He continued, “You see, like today, you couldn’t resist my charms and Frank married us about 5 years ago.”

Her blushing face soon turned into the definition of “the fuck.” Billy moved a little closer, pausing when she tried to move away. He tried to assure her, “I know, I know it’s a lot to take in. I’m going to give you space and you can ask me anything you want after. Good?”

Before she could comprehend, he got up, collecting both of their beers. A hand reached out to stop him, and he turned, seeing her trembling figure. “Stay,” she muttered with all the strength she could muster.

His eyes turned soft, “Oh, my love. I’m here. Can I— can I move a little closer?”

She nodded, not trusting her voice.

He took her hands, rubbing circles on her palm with his thumb, “This okay?” He asked before looking up and seeing her eyes staring intently at his.

After a few more moments of him doing the same, she broke the silence, “Can you— can you please get Karen here?”

Fleeting anger flashed behind his eyes, followed by understanding. He nodded and moved to call her best friend, “Hey Karen? Can you come to Anvil? It’s Y/N.”

The blonde on the other line did not need another word and rushed out, informing Foggy who was sipping his coffee that she’ll be back soon. 

Billy cut the call and without waiting for another word from her, moved out from the cabin towards the training room. He needed to let out his anger. Entering, he did not bother to wrap his hands in tape and moved to punch the bag. Did he mean nothing to her? He calmed her down, and yet she needs Karen? Why did she have to forget him?

He blamed himself.

He did that to her. If he hadn’t accepted Rawlins’ offer all those years ago, none of this would’ve happened. She would’ve been safe in his arms, Maria and the kids would’ve been alive. 

Madani’s words from long ago still rung in his head.

You destroy everything you touch.

Maybe his mother had seen that side of him at such a young age. Or he was the cause that she couldn’t get over her meth addiction. 

He almost shook the bag off its hinges. 

-

Karen’s face flashed with panic as soon as she heard Y/N’s words. Billy was probably in the training room, taking his anger out on some poor equipment. She knew she should go help but she also knew that her words wouldn’t do anything. It was his wife’s words that would help him, as they always did.

He always listened to her more than anyone else. 

She subtly tried to tell her what she had accidentally done. How she had opened Billy’s insecurities without even meaning to, and she is the only one who can help her. She had to do it before he shut everyone out. 

She’s his voice of reason when his anger shuts everything out. He was the same. And heaven forbid if they both were mad upon something. It was truly a force to reckon with, she had seen it first hand. 

“Karen—,” she shook out of her thoughts. Snapping back she spoke, “Yeah, honey?”

“Did you know?”

She looked at her lap, not able to look her partner in crime in the eye anymore. 

“He’s my husband, Karen! How could you not tell me I left someone I loved?”

“He asked us not to.”

“And then he suddenly decided that I deserve to know and popped back into my life?” Anger was seeking inside her. She lifted a hand, breaking Karen’s next words. She huffed and moved out of the cabin, searching for the training room.

“You bastard.”

Billy was drowning in self regret to hear her cursing him. She huffed and reached to him, turning him around by his shoulders. He instinctively raised a hand to attack the person who had dared to touch him but his arm was left hanging in the air. She had by reflex raised her arms over in front of her face to protect herself. His face softened, the anger still present but it was not directed at her, it was him he was angry at. Angry at himself for accepting to join Cerberus which led to the beginning of their end.

He muttered a “I’m sorry” and moved past her, not caring for his sweaty self. He just wanted to get away. But her voice stopped him in his tracks,

“You’re just going to leave me, again?”

Billy was confused, “What?”

“You don’t get to walk away.”

His eyebrows furrowed, “What do you mean?”

“You left me! You left me when I needed you the most! You left me when I was scared, when I didn’t know who I was. You left me at my most vulnerable. And you don’t get to fucking decide when you come into my life! You made your choice. You left me once. I— I looked for you. I looked for someone I know for a whole fucking year. If Karen and Frank hadn’t been there…Didn’t it cross your oh so busy mind that I deserved to know that I left someone too? That I left someone who was mine?” 

Her voice was breaking, but she ignored it, pouring her heart out. Angry tears were streaming down her face and she ran a hand over her face, wiping them away unsuccessfully. Her vision was getting blurry and hence she missed the regret flashing across Billy’s eyes. She stared down at his frozen frame.

“You don’t know why I did that?”

“Don’t you dare say it was to protect me. Karen—“

“Karen. Karen. Karen. That’s all I have heard all day! Are you married to her or me?” He took an accusatory step forward. 

It was her turn to be confused, but she was too bitter to care about it. She closed her eyes, took a shaky breath, rubbing the bridge of her nose in frustration, “I didn’t know I was married to you until 15 minutes ago, genius.”

Sound of retreating footsteps rang in her ear.

It's pretty short cause I've been busy, but I'll try to get longer parts out soon...

I'm wondering if I should reveal what caused her to lose her memories soon or wait a bit more? It's pretty basic...but I'm kinda excited.

Anyway, I'm still wondering how I'll put Sebastian Stan in this....his entry would be delayed for sure. I got no idea as to how they met.

[ronearoundblindly]

The First Eighty-Three Hours (5)

CEO!Steve Rogers x CEO!reader

Redo (see previous or series)

Summary: The perfectly frustrating Cap to the end of your day. Steve isn't being who you expect, but he's definitely who you want.

Warnings for smut (MINORS DNI), talking, so much talking, and hilarious use of a John Walker insert. Honorable mention to Sarah Rogers. WC ~3.5k

In a perfect world, you wouldn’t be concerned with the state of your apartment, but you ponder how clean the carpet is as you and Steve shuffle newly bare feet across the threshold of your bedroom. You wouldn’t think about if you tossed yesterday’s clothes all the way into the hamper. You wouldn’t think of the few work papers at the corner of your unmade bed as you rustle up a condom from your bedside drawer. You wouldn’t think of the bit of dust you can see in the temporary lamplight. You wouldn’t think of whether your bra and panties are of a sensual enough quality to feel good against Steve’s fingers and skin. You wouldn’t think about the smorgasbord of dinner on your breath or if your shave has lasted long enough to still be smooth.

In a perfect world, you’d be lost in a rush of passion, a flurry of limbs, but that’s difficult to do with all that shit on your mind.

It’s also impossible to do when he won’t fucking move.

“Seriously? You’re balls deep in me, and you want to negotiate.”

Steve’s body remains still atop yours, slotted between your legs, thick between your folds, almost throbbing within your walls. “I said I wanted to talk,” he says casually, fingering over the tender skin behind your ear.

“In the middle of sex?!”

He stutters as if wounded. “Since when is me entering you the middle of sex?”

“That’s not funny.”

You have zero intention of letting him win, even as Steve bends his leg up flush against the back of your thigh, supportive and caging.

“I’m not laughing.” He hikes the other leg into position like he’s settling in for a long haul, and the minute shift makes you keen. Of course, this is only fuel to his slow-burning fire.

“You are in the process of getting what you want, so I get at least a—” Steve tenses his thighs, bouncing you ever-so-slightly forward “—taste of what I want.”

Damn it. Damn him, you are hating to love this right now. Almost no movement at all has you trembling against sheets you’re sort of sure you cleaned last week, but you can’t even give him the satisfaction of a moan.

He waits in your silence, running his nose up your petulantly raised neck before sighing, “fine, I can just leave—“

“If you dare,” you threaten, grabbing at his thick, retreating arms weakly.

And he doesn’t, to his credit. He doesn’t leave you. He sits back on his heels, your ass propped up on his thigh, cock still mostly buried in your heat but not as deep as before. That’s the punishment

“I hate you,” you whisper on instinct.

“I bet,” Steve chuckles, causing itty-bitty shifts that torture you further.

It takes you a long time to come up with the words but Steve remains patient, hands roaming your body in a gentle caress.

You finally rush your response in hopes of not whining needy in the middle. “I live to work and something that should have been good turned to shit.”

He curves down to kiss across your chest, giving a shallow thrust of encouragement.

“I earned this,” you moan. You’re only half-sure you meant your new title. “I want to be so…good at it, but they just—“ you swallow on a dry throat though you’re salivating when he takes a nipple into those plush lips.

“Then let me help, Preci—“

“YOU CAN NOT—“ you explode without warning.

He stops moving, releasing any touch of you above the waist.

“I’m sorry but you can’t, Steve. You can’t. If you help, then that proves I couldn’t do it on my own and don’t deserve to be there.”

“But you do,” he says sincerely, propped up on his elbows, close but not confining.

“Yes. Yes, I do.” The conviction in your own voice astounds you. This is the first time you’ve truly meant it; the first time believe there’s no other way your life could have gone.

And you’re pissed.

It’s overwhelming and unfair and nearly impossible to explain, and for the love of all that is holy, will he just fuck you already?

You cover your face with your hands and growl. This time, the rumble of frustration inside you is what jolts electricity through your core.

“It’s…this is just something I have to deal with the slow way. Nothing will fix it.”

“Nothing,” he repeats questioningly. Steve clearly does not enjoy that ambiguity. There’s always a solution for him, but that’s the key: there is always a solution for men like him.

“I can’t undo people’s opinion of me. I can’t stop their assumptions. Gossip doesn’t care about facts. I have to slowly, agonizingly rewrite it. I have to prove myself, and then I’ll have to prove myself again. They don’t have to care, but I’m going to have to do it anyway.”

It’s his turn to be quiet. Steve takes a moment to lean down until his forehead touches yours.

“Okay,” he mumbles.

“Okay?”

“I won’t do anything unless you want me to, but I’m right beside you.”

“Thank you.” You cup his face with one hand, scratching at the edge of his beard.

One big hand of his slides to brace your ribcage. He rolls his hips back before pumping into you.

You’re drenched and you didn’t even know it. The glide of his sheathed length is indescribable, a smooth raking over your every nerve.

His lips find your ear. “And we can slowly—“ he kisses that sweet spot on your neck “—agonizingly—“ he lets your arms slot over his, broad shoulders tensing with his new pace “—work together.”

The overwhelming escalation of pleasure shoots a taut band down your whole body, forcing you to stretch out like a cat, hands flat against the headboard, muffling soft pleas. You have no clue what you’re pleading for, but you have no control anymore.

Steve tucks an arm into the rigid arch of your back and grabs your ass, hoisting you closer, giving you leverage to roll in tandem with him.

“This help? You want this, precious?”

You climb so high so fast that you feel light-headed, suffocated by the raging intensity of his affection.

He seems…very excited, too, as he pants into the thin sliver of air between you.

“Every morning. Every night. Whenever you want. Whatever you want. Whatever you need.” His deep, husky voice is doing as much for you as the friction of his body, especially when he groans, “fuck. Anything for you.”

It’s just not possible for him to feel this good and be this good and be this bad all at once. There’s no way he’s real, you’re convinced. Where the hell did he come from? He’s not even human, is he?

“Who cares,” Steve babbles against your slick skin. Apparently, you said some of that aloud. “M‘here with you. ‘Coming for you.”

Your orgasm detonates. That forced stretch locks your muscles in place for a seizure of ecstasy. A cry cuts off halfway, turning inward to fuse with your superheated core.

He grunts three words with his last thrusts, and you shake, swimming too deep in your own pleasure to hear. His weight pins you to the sweaty sheets and the Earth.

“I love you,” Steve repeats, no more than a whisper.

Your whole body shivers, walls clenching around him again.

You want it. You want to argue that he’s full of shit, that he can’t possibly because it’s day four. You think you should fight it. You should tell him he’s wrong, but you want it. You want his love.

But he didn’t just say it for you. He’s said something true. Steve’s an honest man and has never lied to you. You also know that he never says anything just because it’s what people want to hear.

You aren’t prepared to receive that gift or give it back. You’re not ready. You’re frozen, waiting until your shock thaws.

You stare at the ceiling fan and think of the Ikea furniture and how it looks in the sad glow of the bathroom light as Steve cleans up. You think of all the corners you did not deep clean in there. You think of how many products you left on the countertop and if the soap dispenser is still nearly empty. Shame crawls over your cooling skin while you cover up with a blanket that you can’t remember washing recently.

You can’t…you can’t think of anything else.

“Did I push too hard?”

You shake your head as he gets back into bed. “Hey, I’m sorry if I—“

“No,” you say meekly. “Don’t.”

Steve stretches out beside you, not reaching for the blanket. He only moves to smooth your hair out of your face.

“You deserve so much better than today. You’ve earned this. I just want to help, so what can I do?”

You take his hand in yours, a serious heft in your tone. “Please, don’t try to help again.”

“Again? When did I…?”

“You tried and failed two and a half years ago at the Donatelli fundraiser.”

Steve thinks back, confused.

Of course, he wouldn’t have noticed then and he wouldn’t think of it now. “I brought a date. You told him I was ‘your responsibility' and to leave.”

“That guy? No, but he made you look miserable the whole night. He barely spoke to you.”

“So you said…?

Steve adjusts himself a little self-consciously on the bed. “What? I’m concerned about all my employee’s happiness, and you were miserable. He wasn’t right for you.”

“But that’s not what you said, is it?”

“Is there a difference?”

“Between my entire self belonging to you versus you giving a shit about your workforce’s quality of life?” You prop yourself up sideways on one elbow. “Yes. Big damn difference.”

“The guy neglected you the whole dinner,” he continues to defend.

“Steve, I paid him to neglect me. John Walker is an escort. He was there to get people off my back about never having a plus one. I gave him money to not bother me while I was still expected to work that night. Normal dates don’t like that.”

“Nobody cares if you—“

“You bet your ass they care,” you burst. “They cared tonight how expensive my clothes were. They cared that my word had the backing of a man on the phone today. They definitely cared that I was perpetually alone at events. Doesn’t matter if I was fine with it.” You throw up a hand before falling back down to the pillow. “I even thought Walker was doing well enough to be a repeat date because—my god—the grief I would be spared!” Shifting your voice in mock horror, you imitate, “‘Again?’ ‘Don’t work so hard. You’ll seem unavailable.’ ‘Don’t act so superior. No one wants that.’ ‘Always uneven numbers at the table.’

“But how could I possibly ask him to come back when you had to go full white knight? And all while having some name from the Stark Rolodex beside you. See, when you do it, it’s fine. When I—“

You’re finally too angry to continue. Your chest heaves in frustration, and your throat tightens, eyes prickling.

After a thick pause, Steve tries, “my mother raised me to—“

“Your mother is not an excuse for you to be a hypocrite or bury your head in the sand,” you snap. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

You are, essentially, as not sorry as you have ever been, crossing your arms across your bare chest and huffing loudly.

It’s his turn to prop himself up to look at you. “This is why I wanted to talk. For the record.”

You sigh. “Noted.” After another beat, your voice is quiet again. “Nothing is going to make them stop. This is my reality, and in the nicest way possible, you cannot help. You didn’t mean to, but your ‘help’ partly, accidentally, inadvertently made it this way. I’m not blaming you. It’s not your fault just like it’s not my fault. That’s the perception though. Doesn’t go away when you deny it, and I’m not gonna sit here and lie to make you feel better about it. I’m too tired for that.”

Ok, fine, you vaguely regret going on a tirade immediately after sex, but bottling it up wasn’t helping, and sugarcoating it is a waste of time.

Steve, to his credit, takes it in stride, shuffling closer and running a finger up and down your shoulder. It tickles.

“You are amazing though.”

Definitely not human.

“Thank you,” you allow. “I am also…truly exhausted.”

“Catch-22, precious. If I let you work less—“

“—then the whole company assumes you favor me—“

“—which I do, but not like that. Except. Yes, like that but this isn’t the reason that I’d…“ Steve scratches the back of his head, waiting for you to save him from the hole he’s digging to China, and you do take pity on him. He’s too cute to say no to.

“Welcome to womanhood, Mr. Rogers, the place where you cannot win, no matter how long you fight or what army you have on your side.”

Unpredictably, he huffs and spins to find his phone from his discarded pants over the side of the bed. You have to clutch at your blanket while the springs bounce you in return.

Of course, this conversation would inspire something about work. It’s not long before he settles back into position silently, the slow consistent rattle of your overhead fan churning away.

“I still mean it,” Steve whispers.

Fuck. Do you have to talk about that now?

Carefully, you choose your own words. “I know. That’s…it’s really hard to accept.”

Steve waits for you to roll over and meet his eyes in the dark. When he takes your hand again, he adds, “then I’m doing a bad job.”

“You’re working against a lifetime of shit.” Your voice is no louder than your breath, but he simply kisses the back of your hand.

“I hate that I’ve added to it.”

This sincere bastard. The more he talks, the more you realize why you’ve been working so damn hard for so long: it’s not just for a paycheck, it’s not just for your reputation, it’s not even for the company. It’s Steve. You’ve been working to get Steve Rogers whatever he wants because you knew he was different. He’s worth it.

He’s worth it, but he is just a human. He can’t fix everything. He can’t change the past. He’s not predictable in this dynamic, and you have to ask.

“No redos, Steve. So what do you do next?”

He takes a big breath that puffs out his chest and pulls you close, blanket and all. With the determination of a man who’s already spent twenty years on a singular focus, he concludes, “keep working, obviously. Listen. Learn.” He drops his voice at the end. “Love you till you feel it.”

There you both are on that lonely, desert island together, no one in the world but you two, and he’s warm like the sun and the sand on the beach.

“Could take a long time,” you admit.

“Think I wasted a few years already.”

“Not a waste. Never a waste. You were being you, and I—“ You lean further, far enough to shield your face from sight, close enough to touch your nose to the hollow of his clavicle. It takes a few seconds to get the words out.

“I love you, too.”

While you wrangle the runaway surge of emotion from your confession, Steve’s finger tugs at your chin until his lips can find yours.

Soft.

Soft, endless devotion.

How one kiss can be so thorough in its effect on your body, you’ll never know because his words continue the sweet assault.

“I mean all of it though. Whatever I can do, whatever you want, I’ll do it. Whatever you say.”

You preen at the offer, rubbing your cheek against the bristle of his beard. “That’s a lot of power, Captain. What if I don’t use it wisely?”

“I trust you.” So simple yet so much more intense than its predecessor. “So…”

“So,” you repeat, biting your bottom lip in thought, a brash swell of mischief replacing some of the moment’s aching tenderness, “you can start by getting out of my spot. I sleep on that side. And we’re gonna go brush our teeth because—“

“No dragon breath,” Steve diligently remembers.

“Exactly. Good boy.” You give his cheek a playful pat and find your pajamas.

The dance of ritual in the bathroom is surprisingly smooth, peppered with teasing and longing glances. This is the most comfortable you’ve ever been in unknown territory, and you suddenly look forward to Steve getting cozy in your life, in every aspect.

He places the new toothbrush you fished out of your goody bag from the dentist a month ago—his toothbrush now—right beside yours in the holder and smiles wide.

“Feeling better, precious?”

You shrug. It’s the most honest answer you can give. The rollercoaster of the day has only added to the theme park of the weekend, and you are tired but with a tinge of something else. The mischief is growing.

You brush your fingers down his bare abs. “Maybe…feeling powerful.”

Steve clears his throat. “Oh?”

Your eyes raise to meet his just as your hand flicks the light switch.

Steve says nothing of consequence as you both get dressed for work. He has fresh clothes at the office, so he doesn’t put on any more than his slacks and shirt, tossing his suit jacket and coat over his arm before holding the door open for you.

When you get to the curb, however, there are two cars, and he walks you to the one that is not the company’s.

The window rolls down.

“Hello, dear,” Sarah Rogers trills sweetly. “We are going on an adventure.”

You say a quick hello in return and step out of the way, thinking Steve has simply forgotten to mention plans with his mother.

He shakes his head and opens that door for you, too.

Even though it’s written all over your face, you still blurt out, “I don’t understand.”

“We,” Sarah emphasizes, “us ladies have an important meeting to get to. Hop in.”

You slide into the passenger’s seat staring all the while at Steve. He gives nothing away in his soft smile, looking to make sure you’re settled inside before shutting the door and leaning into the open window.

His smile widens. “I got to thinkin’ last night—“

“—a dangerous business, son,” Sarah chides.

You desperately try not to laugh. You’ve known this woman is sharp since the first phone call you fielded from her in the early days at AmCap, but to watch this closely is another beast.

“Indeed,” Steve clicks his tongue, but you see a faint hue high on his cheeks. He looks back at you with that same smile.

That’s when it occurs to you: it's not Steve's smile. It’s your smile. That soft, charming, gooey-around-the-edges, ready-to-comply smile is reserved for you.

“What we talked about, ‘figured if I can’t help, maybe Ma can.”

“Oh, that’s not—“ you turn to Sarah “—please, you don’t have to—“

“Nonsense!” She hits the button to roll the window up, forcing Steve out and back up onto the curb.

“Alright, I’ll see you at the—“ He waves at the end, knowing you can’t hear, and pets down his beard, amused as he walks to the usual black SUV.

“You’ll see, dear. I’m a collector. You’re doing me a favor really. I don’t have a CEO yet.”

As Sarah pulls out into traffic, you sneak a glance back as Steve ducks into his ride. “A collector of what?”

“Women. Powerful women, to be exact, and you and I are going to dine with a few. Best I could do on short notice, but we’ll have Hope Van Dyne, member of the Board of Directors for Pym Tech. You’ve worked with them, I think?”

“No, ma’am. Their contract was before my tenure, so I never met anyone from there.”

Mama Rogers deftly navigates the city streets. “Ah well, this is perfect then. Natasha seemed downright eager when I mentioned you’d be coming—“

“Romanoff?!” Your voice cracks accidentally. It was only a few days ago, but her first impression of you was not your finest moment seeing as you were a bit drunk and cranky.

“Yes, and if her sister decides to grace us with her presence—“ Sarah rolls her eyes “—you’ll be in for a real treat.”

You swallow thickly and wait for elaboration.

“Personal stylist to the stars. Yelena Bolova,” she explains with a flourish. “Don’t tell me Stevie plays off like he’s had no help with his wardrobe…”

Your grimace must give your answer away, and Sarah raises a delicate, judging, blond eyebrow before moving on.

“Shame my colleague Claire from the hospital couldn’t join. Another time. Ah—she’s here! Just pulled in, you see? That’s Jen, dear. Jen Walters. Brilliant legal mind. Very down to earth.”

“Wow, so who’s not here?”

“Of my regulars—I love hosting the girls whenever I can—Doctors Maya Hansen and Jane Foster and soon-to-be Doctor Darcy Lewis are at various foreign locations for their research. Not together though. Wildly different fields. Also Securities Director for…a very large capital operation that shall not be named, Maria Hill.”

“Has Pepper Potts never joined you? You’ve known the Stark’s as long as Steve has, right?”

“Oh yes.” Sarah parks the car but doesn’t begin to get out for the valet. She turns to you with a guilty expression. “Truth be told, Ms. Potts called me first. I didn’t wait for Stevie to text me before ringing the girls because I’d already put this off for too long. You see, I’ve always admired your work ethic, but it felt an imposition to spend time with your boss’s mother when you were clearly dedicated and very busy. I was so proud of you for whipping some sense of…well, life, I suppose, back into that boy—man,” she corrects with a hand on your arm momentarily. “All that can wait though. Come, dear. Let’s lift you up after yesterday. You deserve better.”

Like mother, like son. You can see it in her smile. The Rogerses epitomize strong gentility.

“One warning though. If you ever call us ‘Ladies Who Lunch,’ you are out. No questions asked. No exceptions. I cannot stand that trivializing shit.”

You fight to wrangle your grin into an acceptable smirk, but it seems the whole family is full of surprises.

Right before you enter the restaurant, you set your phone to silent and see a text from Steve.

It’s just a red heart emoji, but your own heart swells with pride and a flutter of realization. You love that man, you trust him, and most importantly, you trust that things will be okay.

This concludes the main story of Steve and Precious. They will return in two planned one-shots (and probably more, let's be honest), but for now, I hope you were satisfied by this tale! Thank you for reading, and I'd love to hear your thoughts. 🤗😘

@bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp @rach2602 @patzammit @royalwritersoftheuniverses

[Eight-Thirty PM]

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[holylulusworld]

Big girls don't cry (4)

Summary: You are no stranger to heartbreak.

Pairing: CEO!Steve Rogers x Plussized!Reader

Warnings: heavy angst, strong reader, mentions of former heartbreak, arguments, regret, fear of commitment, abandonment issues,

Big girls don’t cry masterlist

Part 3

“Stevie, go in there and talk to her,” Bucky groans. “I didn’t almost get killed by your angry girlfriend only for you to chicken out now. Go—”

Bucky shoves his friend toward the door.  

“What if she doesn’t want to see me? Y/N hates me now, and I can only blame myself. I let my insecurities and fear of commitment get the best out of me.”

“Yeah, you fucked things up big time, punk. Now go in there and fix things with your lovely lady. You love that woman, right?” 

“I had the ring, and the proposal planned and chose the easy way out. I got scared. Scared that she’ll laugh at me. Or even worse, say no. I saw her throw the ring in my face and run off. I’m not worthy of her love.”

“Y/N is a great person. She’s kind, smart and caring. I can’t imagine her doing such a thing. If you are honest with her, she’ll not break your heart,” Bucky smirks. “Maybe she breaks your dick with her baseball bat, though.”

“Buck,” Steve reaches for the door handle, “whatever happens now. Thank you for trying.”

“Just don’t chicken out or get your dick out,” the brunette chuckles. “I can tell, women don’t like it when you get it out after a fight.”

“What?” Steve side-eyes his friend. “What did you do, Buck?”

Bucky shrugs. “It was a case of miscommunication. I thought she wanted to have make-up sex, and she wanted to break up with me.”

“You’re unbelievable. I can’t believe I asked you for advice on relationship problems.”

“Hey, what can I say? The ladies love me?” Bucky grins. “But enough of me and my perfect face, and dick. You should go inside and finally talk to her. People are watching.”

“Hi, uh- thank you for letting me come here. Bucky said you will hear me out,” Steve awkwardly stands in the middle of the empty bakery. “Not many people around today.”

“We are renovating,” you quip, not even sparing Steve a glance. You practiced this conversation in front of the mirror and can’t show weakness. “I told you so a month ago.”

“I didn’t know it was this one,” he licks his lips. “You scared the shit out of Bucky.” He chuckles. “And I can tell, Bucky never gets scared.”

“He’s a baby,” you snicker. “Your friend almost peed his pants when I got the baseball bat out.” It feels awkward being around Steve again. “You wanted to talk, so talk.”

“Maybe…you could start,” Steve stammers. “I know you are angry and hurt. And you have every right to be angry. What I said was awful, and I know now that you went through so much in the past that you cannot forgive me. I just wanted you to know that I—”

He hesitates. Steve looks at his shoes, shaking his head. He takes a few deep breaths. “Sorry, I need…shit…” 

“What do you want to say, Steve?” 

“I-I love you,” he almost yells. It’s the first time he has said it with fear in his eyes. “I know that I said it before, but I wanted you to hear it one last time.”

“Steve, I thought we wanted to talk. This was more like a monologue. I wanted to talk about the things Bucky told me about your past. Why did you never tell me about the people bullying you.”

“I could ask you the same,” he gives you a cracked smile. “I-I was ashamed, I guess. I wasn’t always like this. Back then, I tried so hard to fit in. It was never enough, though. Not once was I good enough for anyone.”

“Boys always treated me like I’m not good enough to be seen with them,” you sniffle. “When you said all those things, I felt like the little girl who got her heart broken for the first time.”

“Y/N…” He fights the tears. “I was a weak and thin boy back then. Sick too. No one wanted to be my friend but Bucky. He was tall, cocky, and popular. They didn’t understand why he was my friend. I didn’t get it myself. He could’ve been friends with everyone.”

“He’s a nice guy,” you wipe your eyes and sniffle. “And a good friend. He almost got hit by a baseball bat for you.”

“When I liked a girl for the first time, she punched my nose and called me a loser. I was like six or seven.” He sighs deeply. “I know, this is no excuse.”

“It is not. I got rejected all my life too, but I would never do such a thing to you. I loved you so, and then you say something like that,” You push the tears away. “I was so happy, and you broke my heart.”

“I’m so sorry, doll. All my life I tried to forget about my past, and the weak boy from back then.” Steve takes a step toward you, holding out his hand. “In my teens, I fell in love with a girl. I believed she liked me too.” 

“She told everyone about it, didn’t she?” You softly ask. “Bucky told me about it. What was her name?”

“Peggy Carter,” Steve winces when her name leaves his lips. “I realized she only liked me as long as I helped her get better grades.”

“Same here,” you take his offered hand to squeeze it tightly. “I was twelve. At least I shoved the bastard against the wall and called him a dipshit.”

Steve grins. “I’m glad you did, doll.”

“Do you want to hear a fun fact?” Steve places your hand on his chest. “I met her two years ago. She didn’t even remember me. Imagine, Peggy was all over me and tried to get in my pants.”

“No way.”

“I turned her down, though. She got mad. I bet Peggy Carter never got turned down before. Well, I told her it’s payback for what she did to me when I was a kid.”

“Good for you. I mean, that you go the chance to pay her back.” You glance up at Steve, feeling unsure of how to proceed now. You’ve missed him so much, but you are scared to give in to him only to get hurt again. “Steve, I can’t go back to what we had so easily. I need…”

“I know, baby doll,” he wraps his arms around you to at least hold you one last time. “Please never believe you are not worthy of love, or that you should settle for someone who’s not worthy of your love. I wish you love. A love that will give you everything you’ll ever need…”

Part 5

Tags in reblog.

[vibraniumarm06-bucket]

A Friendly Smile From the Past - 4

A/N: Thank you to everyone showing love for this series! Sorry for the late update was trying to figure out which way to take it - so it's a bit longer than the others. Let me know what you think!!

Also, one shot requests are open 😊

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

“It is. He’s out on bail.” Peter says and it feels like everything in my body has frozen. 

I don’t know how long I stand there but I can hear the others ask what is going on, Nat is squeezing my arm hard and I can feel Clint stand to hold me. My breathing is slow but intense and I feel panic entering my stream. My heartbeat is in my ears pounding drowning out people’s voices. What brings me to reality is Bucky, he moves to stand in front of me placing one of his hands on my cheek and whispering “Come back, it's okay beautiful girl, come back, come back to me”. 

I stare into those blue eyes of his, those eyes I feel the most safest in, the ones I used to seek refuge in, the ones that feel like home. “That’s it, you’re doing great, come back to me everything is going to be fine” He whispers softly moving his hand across my cheek in comfort as his eyes bore into mine. I lean into his hand that is on my cheek to savour his warmth, his touch. Once Bucky realises that I’m okay his hand drops from my face, clearing his throat as he distances himself. 

I clear my throat, looking at the floor to ground myself. “How long since you got the envelope?” I ask, my voice trembling over the words. 

“Two hours. I’ve been calling since we received it at the firm” Peter’s girlfriend MJ says. 

I wince and hold my hand out for the envelope. A soft squeak leaves my mouth as I feel Nat’s hand slap mine. “Do you know what it means if you take that in your possession?”

“I do, Nat. I’m a lawyer, I understand what a subpoena is. I know what this one entails and how it will ruin my career. We knew it was coming the moment he died. It was only a matter of when. I just didn’t realise it would be this fast” I say as I take the envelope from Peter’s hands. “You both did the right thing by bringing this to me asap. As of this moment, T’Challa will be your boss at the firm” I say trying to put a smile on my face. 

“What? No, you’re my boss” Peter says. I look at MJ “Remember the conversation we had when I hired you? Well, that time has come. I will be out of commission, but T'Challa will take you both as his interns. He may not pursue the same sort of cases I do but he is one heck of a good lawyer” I say softly and watch as she nods. “Come on Peter, it’s going to be okay. Let’s go” MJ says, tugging his arm as he just stands there in shock. 

“You’re both my favourites, don’t tell the others,” I say with a soft chuckle as I shoo them both out of the door of the bar. 

Once the door is shut, I lean back against it as tears threaten to fall. I bite my lip trying to hold my emotions back. I cannot cry in front of everyone, which is embarrassing. 

“What is happening? Will one of you explain what is going on?” Sam asks, breaking the silence. 

“We literally can’t,” Nat says, staring at the envelope now in my hands. 

“Why not? What is going on Y/N? We can help. I can help” Bucky says, his voice sounding panicked. Clint scoffs “I’m a detective and I can’t even help in this situation, how are you going to be of help when you don’t even know the depth of the situation? Now we all have to get out of here before they come knocking” 

“Who’s they? We are not leaving until we know what is going on” Tony says slamming his hand on the table to command attention and answers. 

*10 years ago*

Steve plops down onto the bench beside you as he had taken a hard tackle and the coach wanted him to rest and not make the pain worse. “You know pretty much the whole team has been staring at you for the last 10 minutes,” Steve says through a soft laugh as he leans over taking some of your chips. “Oh please, they have not,” I say as I swat his hand away watching the football team practice, my eyes landing on Bucky a soft smile itching its way onto my face. 

“When are you going to tell him how you feel?” Steve asks, catching my line of sight resulting in a deep blush spreading across my cheeks. “Just because you’re dating Nat doesn’t mean you can intrude on my life as she does,” I say slightly annoyed. “I just don’t want to ruin the bond we have, plus I’m pretty sure he doesn’t like me in that way”. 

“Look I’m just saying you should, you never know what could happen,” Steve says, shrugging his shoulders and not taking my words to heart. He truly is the perfect guy for Nat. 

I shake my head before turning to face him “I’m not ready to tell him just yet, I just need some more time Steve” I sigh and watch as he scans my face before nodding “Okay” . 

“So, how are you asking Nat to prom?” I ask nudging him with my elbow and wiggling my eyebrows, causing him to laugh. “Who said I haven’t asked her already?” He responds hand placed over his heart pretending to be hurt. “Well dummy, she tells me everything,” I say giggling softly. “ I know, which is why I can’t tell you how I’m doing it because then she won’t be surprised!” He says, narrowing his eyes at me “Because you would blab to her the moment you left this bench” . I pause and take a dramatic gasp “ Me? Spilling the beans… how dare you accuse me of something like that?!” I say trying to keep my face in shock but it’s hard to contain and we both start laughing our heads off. 

During that time practice had concluded and Bucky was standing in front of the both of you blocking the sun which made you look up at him. I couldn’t hold the smile that wanted to tear across my face as he stood there all sweaty making him look even more handsome if that is even possible. I hand him his water bottle and blush at the “thanks doll” that leaves his lips. 

“Are you still okay with studying after I take a shower?” He asks “Yeah of course!” I say which results in a large grin on his face which seems to drop as Brock approaches us. Brock nods at both of the boys as he runs his towel over his face to wipe his sweat. “Rumlow” both of them respond. 

“You boys mind if I pull Y/N aside for a bit?” Brock asks softly as he reaches for my hand. I watch Bucky’s face which seems to hold a form of anger as his jaw is clenched before he slowly shakes his head no. 

“What’s up, Brock?” I ask after he’s dragged me away from Bucky and Steve. I can feel their gazes on my back and I know they’ll always have my back. “I was wondering if you have a date to prom?” He asks as he reaches into his bag and pulls out a teddy with the words “prom?” written across its stomach. “Oh, I” I stutter softly looking back over at Bucky who isn’t even looking at us. I feel an ache in my stomach and a frown begins on my face as I realise that Bucky probably doesn’t want to go to prom together like we always talked about. 

“You didn’t hear about Bucky asking Dot to prom did you?” Brock’s voice interrupts my thoughts and I shake my head and try to hold my tears back. Of course, he doesn’t think about me that way, I’m not his type at all. “I thought you deserve better than him, so go to prom with me?” He asks as he holds the teddy in front of him and pouts which makes me laugh. I sigh softly, looking over my shoulder at Bucky who’s talking to Steve, my eyes connect with Steve’s and he just shrugs. I turn back to Brock and nod my head “Yeah okay, I’ll go with you” . 

Befriending Rumlow had been the beginning of the end. 

3 months later

“Oh come on Bucky! You gotta smile” I say, holding the camera in front of my face trying to take a photo of him. I can’t help but laugh at the glare back I receive. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t for a grade,” I say softly, putting the camera down, and taking a seat beside him on his bed. I reach for my laptop to look at the previous photos of him taken for my portfolio. “Why didn’t you ask Rumlow, you seem to be spending a lot of time with him”. 

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What? I asked you at the start of the year. Why would I backtrack on something we confirmed on doing?” I ask to take a peek at him from the side. The light catches the top half of his face making his brown hair look lighter and his eyes shine. The sun captures how handsome he looks and I can’t help but sigh as he looks quite dreamy.  I grab my camera while he mumbles something while I take the picture. As I go back to look at the picture, I gasp. “It’s perfect!” I squeal, shoving the camera in Bucky’s face. “Look! This is the perfect last photo!!” I say as I wrap my arms around his neck and squeeze him tight. 

Bucky softly shoves me off of him and my smile falls. “Did you even listen to a word I said before?”. “Bucket you were mumbling, you know I don’t know what you’re saying when you mumble and I was in the moment, I had to capture it! What were you saying, I’m all ears now,” I say, placing my hand on his arm and squeezing softly. 

He sighs and shoves the camera in my hands. “You know what, just forget about it. It’s not important” he says, his eyes roaming over my face, his stare intense making my heart beat fast. I gaze down at his lips; they look soft and kissable. My phone begins to ring, I grab it to see who’s calling “Oh, it’s Rumlow, I gotta take it” and I hear Bucky sigh as I head into the hallway. 

After hanging up the phone I notice Bucky staring at the photo frame on his bedside table. It’s a split photo of the two of us, one side is a few months after we had met and the other side is us replicating the photo on the other last year. I walk up to him and rub his shoulder and lean my head on his shoulder to take a look at the photo too. 

“Buck, do you mind if I leave? I have to meet Rumlow” I say softly into his ear. “Yeah. Whatever” He says, his voice cold and harsh. “Is something wrong?” I asked pulling away from him. 

“You always spend all your time with Rumlow now. You barely have time for your friends. The ones who actually matter.” He spits out. 

“That’s not fair Buck. You spend all your time with Dot which leaves little time for me to hang out with you. So, I hang out with Rumlow instead because Steve and Nat are all lovey-dovey and I don’t want to be the third wheel all the time with them because you’re not around anymore. I’m allowed to have other friends when you’re busy.”  

“Rumlow is not who you want to be hanging out with. He’s not who you want as your boyfriend. He’s not good for you” I recoil from his words and tone. “Since when was Rumlow, my boyfriend? He and I are just friends, and you do not get to judge someone you barely know.” 

“Oh please, that’s not what he’s been saying in the locker room. Boys talk, you know.” Bucky says, stepping towards me. “I’m just looking out for you. You have to stay away from him Y/N/N, for me please?” He reaches for me, his voice sounding pleading but I recoil from his touch. “Stop trying to dictate my life of who I can be friends with and who I can’t. You’ve barely been in it these past few months to even know what I’ve been doing. This is the first time we have hung out in months and only because you texted saying ‘you were obligated’ ” I say quoting what he had sent. I watch his eyes darken and I know he is simmering with anger, but so am I. 

“I have to rely on Steve to know how you are doing these days. You never respond to my messages and ignore me at school because you’re always with Dot. Since you felt ‘obligated’ to get this done and you don’t seem to have time anymore, I don’t think we should be friends” I say looking at the ground barely believing the words coming out of my mouth. I know they are said in anger but I can’t help but say them out of feeling hurt. I try to hold back the tears in my eyes not wanting him to see how upset I feel.

“I agree, this seems to be more of an obligation now than friendship.” He spits out as he begins grabbing my things and shoving them into my hands. I bite my lip to keep from crying 

and hold onto them walking out of his room, not responding to his mum on the way out. 

That was one of the worst fights I’ve ever had with Bucky since we’ve known each other. I knew it was my jealousy that had dictated my anger then but I couldn’t help the hurt I felt. I would spend all my free time with Bucky, we would do everything together. But ever since he started dating Dot it felt like I had been cast aside and Rumlow had been there to help fill in the time. Bucky and I had made up two weeks later after Steve and Nat had shoved us into Steve’s basement closet and locked the door. They wouldn’t let us leave until we had made up. It took a while for us to get back to where we were but we did it. It was mainly because it was always us no matter what.

*Present*

I always look back to the moment when Bucky told me not to become friends with Rumlow years ago because I wish I had taken his advice, I would not be facing the situation I am in now. I feel a hand on my cheek wiping my tears away and I notice that I had let them fall. I look straight into Clint’s eyes and see fear. “Come on Sugar, we HAVE to go now. I got a message saying he’s left the station now.” He says his voice wobbling as he helps you to his feet. 

Headlights shine through the glass of the bar window. “It’s too late” you mumble into Clint’s chest, looking over his shoulder and catching Bucky’s eyes. There are questions, worries and fear swimming in those beautiful blues. He begins to take a step closer and you shake your head slowly. 

“Everyone out the back alley,” Nat says nodding to the storage room door. “Uh, I don’t remember this bar ever having a door leading to the alley,” Wanda says confused. “We gotta go now, meet us at this apartment, there’s a spare key in the pot plant - we’ll explain later. You guys have to go now!” She whispers, pushing them towards the storage room, pulling a rack off the shelf and showing a doorknob. “Go now. We’ll see you later, you guys can’t be caught up in this” and with that she slams the door, placing the rack back into position. 

Once Nat shuts the door to the storage room and walks over to us, the bell to the bar rings. You pull away from Clint’s hold and focus on the person who walked through the door. 

“Fancy seeing you guys here.” He spits out “Aren’t you gonna hug me Y/N? I sure did miss my wife” Brock spits out opening his arms out for a hug as a joke and I feel the acid travelling up my throat.

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[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

Sick Days

A/N: Another Steve AU for you guys. Also, I just hit 100 followers (like after I began writing this) which is crazy so thank you all! I’ll probably do one of those follower milestone things, I just have to figure out what. Thank you again my lovelies, I love you all! Pairing: CEO!Steve Rogers x F!Chubby!Reader (Or skinny reader, you can really fluctuate to your body type.) Word count: 2,486 Warnings: Some slight angst against side characters, swearing.

"Where’s Y/N?” His voice boomed to his various employees, the important ones all across the glass table in the large conference room. The sunlight beaming in through floor to glass windows was interrupted with shadows of the New York skyline, or at least the few buildings that were as high if not higher than the one that occupied Rogers Industries. Everyone fell completely still, completely quiet.

“Um, she texted me this morning, saying she was very sick, Mr. Rogers.” One of his associates very quietly replied.

“She’s sick?” He asked, sighing deeply, turning around and marching out of the room. He flew past the various hallways, every employee immediately moving out of their way for him in confusion and fear. Making his way to his office on the top floor, he slammed the grand doors grabbing his phone and immediately dialing your number. 

“Steve?” You answered after the third ring. Your voice was crackly, he could hear your sniffly nose from the other end, “I’m sorry I didn’t call I-” “Hey, hey, baby.” He cooed, immediately understanding you were actually sick, “No need to justify. How are you feeling?” His voice grew soft and tender, his face dropping from tensions with anger to now tensions with concern.

“Like death.” You responded, to which he sighed, “I haven’t been able to get out of bed, I have a fever of 102, I can’t eat, I couldn’t sleep last night I-” “Okay, okay, alright.” He interrupted you, thinking for a moment. “I need you to head over to my place-” “No, Steve.” You interrupted, “I am not going over to your apartment, excuse me, penthouse, in this condition.”

“Yes, you are.” He fought back.

“Steve, how am I even supposed to get out of bed?�� You tried to reason, “It hurts to even pee.”

“Then I’ll pick you up. Literally.” “Steve, no.” You concluded, “Your day is already probably messed up because I’m not there to answer calls and deal with stupid people and help you with whatever you need. I don’t need your pity.”

“I’m not pitying you, I’m worried about you. And no my day is not messed up.” “Yet,” You began.

“Okay, yet.” He admitted, “No one is as good of an assistant as you are. I have four people, two of whom have PhDs, trying to juggle your job. I don’t know how you do it.”

“I don’t know either,” You lightly laughed, to the best of your abilities.

“How about I come over after work then?” He settled, “I’ll bring you some food, anything you want, okay?” You hummed over the phone.

“Sounds great.” You replied, “I love you, Stevie.” You smiled lightly.

“Love you too.” He smiled as well, hanging up.

You had been Steve’s assistant for 10 years. It was funny at first, he was an unknown man starting his own company at 24, you were fresh in college at 18 and needed a job. So, after seeing your work ethic and how smart you were, he decided to hire you, finding you as the perfect fit.

You has been his constant companion for those 10 years, traveling with him all the time, attending meetings, you were always by his side. There was a silent relationship between the two of you. Both of you knew some form of chemistry existed, but never acknowledged it. Until Steve finally asked you out only four months ago.

He had finally grown mature enough to throw away his playboy-type persona. He didn’t want women just to be there, and for them to be attracted to him for his money. Though he was one of the most handsome bachelors for women to lay their eyes on. No, he wanted a true life partner.

And you had been with him since the get-go, when sometimes he couldn’t even pay you one week because everything was so tight. But you stuck with him every second of the way, and he knew if you would go out with him it wasn’t because of his money, but because of him.

Sure, you weren’t as fit as many of the girls he had dated in the past. And maybe the media wouldn’t categorize you as a “beauty”. But you were the most gorgeous woman to him. You were mature, kind, smart, organized. He bragged about you to his closest friends from the beginning, before you even began dating, categorizing you as an “intellectual”, a compliment you would brush off not wanting to boost your ego.

“Jackie,” He called one of his associates who was an acting assistant of the day.

“Yes, Mr. Rogers?” She asked over the phone.

“I need you to get all of these things, preferably from that diner off Broadway and Warren. I need it ready in exactly 20 minutes, back to me in 30.” He began, “I’ve sent them over to you. Get it done. Now.” He hung up, residing back to his usual work.

Only a minute later his office phone was ringing. “Hello?” He answered, partially annoyed considering this has now disrupted his response to a passive aggressive email sent by a nobody at a partnering company.

“Mr. Rogers, they said it wouldn’t be ready for 45-” “Did I say 45 minutes?” He interrupted, aggravation filling his voice.

“No I just-”

“I don’t have 45 minutes. You’re now down to 28 minutes before the food should be placed on my fucking desk and ready to go.” “Mr. Rogers there’s nothing I can do-” “Maybe you can be assertive next time, Jackie, or you’ll be out of a job in a second. Figure it out.” He slammed the phone back on the desk with a loud bang, grunting and rubbing his hand over his face. Leaning back he reflected on your words. “Yet”. If you were the one in charge of that, the food would have been on his desk in 20 minutes, not ready in 45.

It didn’t only annoy him that clearly his associates had no ability to think outside of the little boxes they had placed themselves in, but he was talking about you. Although no one at the office, or in the company, knew you two were dating, anyone who got in the way of you would be fired in a hot second. In a moment he could have them standing outside his skyscraper, box in hands sobbing if they even attempted to bother you. You were not only the most precious asset to his company, you were the most precious thing in his life.

He continued his work, not worry too much about how everything was going outside of his office. If anyone fucked up, he would fire them. Easy as that. Once again, his gratitude for you grew greater and greater as he got a text from you.

Please don’t say you’re going to hard on people. I know you’re kind of an ass of a boss, but at least go a little easy on them today. Xo, Y/N

He couldn’t help but smile a little bit. Damn right he was an ass of a boss, and he prided himself on it. As he began responding, Jackie rushed in, looking both winded and scared. “Here you are, Mr. Rogers.” She placed the three bags full of food on his desk.

“You’re three minutes late.” He sat up, looking over the bags, “If I wasn’t in a good mood you would be fired. I’ll let you off on this one.” He sighed, she stood there and took a deep sigh.

“T-thank you, Mr. Rogers.” She nervously walked out.

Trying not to, babe :). Try to be nice to yourself, too, you deserve it. Xo, Steve

He responded, smiling as he sent it, counting down the minutes to be home with you, cooing you and comforting you. He wanted nothing more than to just sit with you all day and watch TV shows, hearing your snarky and stupid commentary. He loved every moment of it.

He removed his mind from his favorite topic, you, and decided to try and focus on some work, as a distraction from the fact he couldn’t be right there with you. Scrolling through stupid emails and paperwork only made his need to be with you all that much worst, his watch not moving fast enough for his liking. With a frustrated sigh he took matters into his own hands.

Stuffing his work in his workbag, he grabbed his phone, getting up and storming out of his office with the take out bags. Everyone looked up at him, confusion and worry ridden all over their faces. He never left early, let alone an hour early.

“Um, Mr. Rogers,” One of his associates perked up, trailing behind him a bit.

“What.” He snapped, not changing his gaze from straight ahead.

“You have that meeting in an hour with Mr. Wilson, where are you going-” Steve stopped in his tracks, turning around to face the boy behind him with a grimace look. “Where I am going is none of your business. And reschedule the meeting with him, he’ll understanding.” And just like that, the man took off again, leaving out the doors and to his car. Slamming his door, he messily started the ignition, holding the leather steering wheel to his Audi, knuckles turning white with annoyance.

His face was blank as he sped through New York traffic, aggressively beeping at all the idiots in his way. He knew you would be scolding the shit out of him right now if you were in the passenger seat, letting him know that you thought he should go back to driving school. He would just lightly smile at your spunk, loving it ever so much.

Speeding into your parking garage underground, he managed to finally find a spot, cursing himself out numerous times for not being there earlier to save one of these now filled spaces. He grabbed his keys and bags with speed, clumsily hanging onto everything, only determined to get to you.

He made his way up the elevator from the parking garage to floor 34, where you were. The elevator was far too slow, in his opinion. He had been meaning to get you a new apartment recently, not that your apartment wasn’t safe or anything. It just wasn’t nice or good enough for you, in his opinion. Granted, nothing in this world would be good enough for you in his eyes. You deserved every damn thing.

He walked out of the elevator, perseverance painted across his face. Finally, he made it to the far end of the carpeted hallway, grabbing your key off of his key ring and placed it in, taking a sigh when it opened. “Baby?” He called, his entire mood changing in a second at the smell and sight of your home. When there was no response, he quietly shut the door, locking it, placing the bags of food on the counter.

Taking his work shoes off along with his jacket and tie, he crept into your room. There you were, an angel from the heavens in his sight, scrunched up in your own warmth under your large comforter, your favorite blanket sprawled out over you. He smiled to himself, unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt and removing his cuffs.

Climbing into bed next to you as easily as he could, in hopes he wouldn’t stir you, he placed his large arm over your body, shorter than his, and moved himself closer to you, providing warmth. You moved a bit with a light groan, “Stevie?” You asked, still half asleep, but moving over and closer to his warmth so now you were now the little spoon.

“Hey, baby doll.” He whispered with a smile, kissing the top of you head. “Go back to sleep, m’kay? You need rest.” You shook your head with a yawn, opening your eyes to see the man you loved, a smile growing across your face.

“You woke me up.” You slightly laughed.

“’M sorry.” He smiled back, taking your messy, natural, unbrushed hair in his fingers and brushing out some of the small tangles.

“It’s okay.” You moved even closer to him so every inch of your side was touching his warmth.

“Have you eaten anything today?” He asked next, with a sweet, calming voice. You shook your head into his shoulder, “Okay,” He muttered, “I brought you some food.” “Stevie I’m not that hungry-”

“I got you chicken tenders.” He countered. You sighed in defeat.

“Fine.” You replied, rolling over just a bit to let him go get it. He got the memo, getting up and quickly retrieving the take out boxes.

“Here ya go, babe.” He smiled, helping you sit up, and giving the box to you.

You graciously accepted the food, opening it and taking a bite, sighing with a smile. “Best boyfriend ever.” You smiled, taking another bite and leaning your head on his shoulder. “So,” You began, “How was the office today?” He scoffed, “A nightmare.” You chuckled.

“Of course it was.”

“I had four people playing my assistants today, and not a single one could send an email to Stark or Barnes, my two most prominent allies in this business. It’s ridiculous-” “Steve,” You interrupted, “I already sent those emails today.” “For real?” He turned to you, his face turning serious, “You have a fever of 102, can barely move, and you sent two emails?” “And faxed over some paper work, and scheduled a few of your meetings for next month, and got your next travel itinerary set.” You responded.

“Jeez,” He sighed, at a complete lose for words, “You are one of a kind, you know that? Literally the most incredible person at that company, or most companies for that matter.” You lightly smiled.

“No need to flatter me, I was doing my job.” You blew it off.

“Your job today was to rest and relax.” “Steven,” You looked up at him, “You’re forgetting who I am. I’m not relaxing until my work is done,” You continued, “Now that it is, I say we watch some TV for the rest of the night. Game of Thrones or Westworld?” You asked next. He just looked at you confused, “Westworld it is.” You replied, grabbing your remote on your bedside. “Now c’mon, you need to relax too. I can feel how tense you are from here.”

“Fine.” He replied, reluctantly loosening his shoulders a bit.

“There you go babe,” You smiled, sniffling a bit due to your current condition right after, “Just relax a little. We’re not at work, no stupid people.” He lightly laughed. Using his hand, he took your chin and moved your head to look at his face.

“I’m the luckiest guy in the world, you know that?” You smiled and maneuvered your head to his shoulder again.

“Not nearly as lucky as I am to have you, Mr. Rogers.”

[sokovianheadtilt]

Tug of War (10)

Steve Rogers x black!reader

Summary: Y/N caught the attention of her boss, who’s determined to win her over

A/N: I totally didn't not update since June...I'm so sorry y'all but here's part 10!!

Warning: Aint shit mothers, slut shaming language, protective Steve :)

SERIES MASTERLIST

Steve noticed a change in your mood. While you’d usually be smiling and giggling, displaying some sort of happiness, you haven’t been. When you smiled, it never reached your eyes, just a quick quirk of your lips but never the full thing, the real thing, the smile Steve fell in love with. Whenever he went to ask you about the mood change, you just brushed it off, reassuring him everything was fine, but he knew better. He wasn’t gonna push, if he did it’d make things worse, he knew that. He just had to wait until you were ready. 

       One night, he walked into the kitchen on quiet feet, watching as you scrambled around the kitchen, making dinner, scrambling around the kitchen with complete focus. He furrowed his eyebrows as he went over to you slowly, you not even picking your head up to notice. He watched as you chopped up some carrots, your hands shaking slightly. He came up behind you, gently taking your wrist and taking the knife from you and setting it down. 

“What are you doing?” You looked up at him “I gotta get this done please” you went to reach for the knife again, but he took your hand back before you could “Honey, you’re shaking like a leaf, what’s going on?” He asked you gently, not wanting to give you the impression he was angry with you.

       You looked up at him with sad eyes before letting out a soft sigh “The other day…my mom called. I’ve told you how we aren’t exactly close if anything I do everything in my power to avoid speaking to her. Apparently, she heard from someone that I was dating again, said she wanted to come for dinner. At first I said no because I don’t want to see her, then she went into how she’s always been there for me, given me a good life, blah blah blah, basically guilting me into saying yes, so she’s coming” you let out a shaky breath “And I’m nervous, and preparing myself for the hurl of insults ready to come my way” you ran your hands over your face. 

       He frowned before pulling you into a gentle hug “Oh flower…I’m so sorry” he kissed your forehead “When is she coming?” “…Today” you muttered into his shirt as his eyes widened a bit before he composed himself “Okay..okay a little short notice but we can do this hm? I’m not going to let her hurt your feelings. I don’t know why she would you’re the most beautiful, smartest, strongest, amazing person in the whole world” you smiled softly at them, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his lips “Thank you” you said gently as he smiled “Why don’t I finish dinner and you grab yourself a glass of wine and relax until she gets here. I don’t want you to be too stressed” you nodded and kissed his cheek, doing as he said, grabbing some wine and going to sit on the couch, watching a comforting show. 

       Steve went to finish dinner, peeking his head out every so often to check if you were okay. When he was setting plates on the table, the doorbell rang and he looked at the door as you flinched a bit, finishing your wine before going to the door before Steve took your hand “Go finish setting the table, I’ll get the door” you nodded before going to set the table. 

       Steve wiped his hands off before going to open the door. Standing behind it was a woman who you looked nearly identical too, the only differences being the hair and the dark sunken circles underneath her eyes. She looked at Steve, smiling at him, though he could tell it wasn’t genuine. “You must be Steve, the boyfriend my daughter didn’t tell me about” Really? That’s the first thing she says? Steve took a small breath before smiling “That’d be me, come in” he moved out of her way and let her walk inside, looking around the house “Nice place, what do you do?” She turned back to Steve “I run a few law firms, it’s where Y/N and I met” she nodded “Didn’t think she’d be the type to sleep with her boss, wow” Steve frowned and held back a scowl as you came over to her “Mother” she turned to face you “Y/N” you just stared at her, not wanting to show any weakness. “Well, this is certainly an upgrade. Snatched yourself a rich man and a mansion, good for you” you shrugged “Yeah well, I got lucky he fell in love with me. Not that you know anything about loving anyone other than yourself” you watched her smirk drop and her gaze harden “At least I didn’t whore myself out to my boss” your eyes widened, and you went to speak before Steve cut in 

“Hey! Why don’t we get some food? Come on the table is set and everything” he set a hand on the small of your back and led you to the table as you sat down, your mother sitting across from you. Steve went and put the food on all your plates, grabbing another bottle of wine and set it on the table before he sat beside you. 

       You immediately grabbed the bottle, popping it open before pouring some into your glass, setting it down. “None for me?” Your mother asked as you took a sip while staring her in the eye “No” you set the glass down before grabbing your fork and starting to eat. 

       Steve glanced between the both of you before clearing his throat “So! Um, what do you do?” He asked you mom “I used to be a nurse, retired a year ago. I have all this time and nothing to do with it, so why not visit my daughter?” She replied. You scoffed to yourself, knowing she just saw another opportunity to criticize everything in your life. “Oh, that’s great. I’m...glad to meet you” “You too” she looked back at Y/N “So what was the plan? Hide him from me? Pretend he doesn’t exist?” She asked you, hearing the venom in her voice “I am your mother, I can’t believe you keep treating me this way” you let out a laugh “Did you not just call me a whore like 5 minutes ago?  Why the hell would I tell you?!” “Don’t be so dramatic, it was a joke, and besides guys like him go for a certain type of girl, just surprised is all” 

Steve looked at her “What do you mean by that?” She shrugged “You’re gonna look me in the eye and tell me you don’t go for models and people in high places? That doesn’t exactly match with Y/N does it?” You looked at Steve, setting a hand on his leg as he took your hand in his, holding it under the table “You’re wrong, and I’m with Y/N because of what a wonderful person she is” you smiled softly at him, kissing his cheek as your mother just let out a sigh and kept eating her food. 

       It was silent and tense for about 10 minutes. You could hear a pin drop in the room, which you were honestly grateful for. You didn’t have to hear your mother speak. “Y/N you’re a lawyer, right?” She asked you as you shrugged 

“Technically yes, I just decided not to work anymore, and I take care of the house and stuff” you told her. “So, you’re basically a sugar baby is what I’m hearing” you clenched your jaw, squeezing onto Steve’s hand “No, I’m his girlfriend, we talked about it, I was tired of living my life in spite of you, and now I’m happier than ever. I don’t lay around spending Steve’s money all day” she shrugged and sipped her wine “Could’ve fooled me”

You stood up from your chair and was about to yell at her before Steve got up and took your wrist “Y/N I got to show you something in kitchen really quick” he said before dragging you to the kitchen. He honestly just didn’t want a fist fight to happen, and you end up getting hurt. You pulled away and turned to face him “Steve- I can’t- I can’t do this with her here” you whispered to him “I’m about this close to losing it” you pinch two of your fingers close together.

“Okay, okay, I understand, after dinner I’ll make sure she’s gone, okay?” he told you and rubbed your arm as you nodded “Okay, thank you” he pressed a kiss to your forehead and lips before taking your hand to bring you back to the table. 

You took a deep breath before sitting down, downing the rest of your wine before you started to eat again. Your mother looked between the two of you “Y/N are you pregnant? You seemed to have put on a few pounds” she said condescendingly. You immediately slam your fork down before reaching over to try and hit her as Steve got up to pull you away “Why do you always do this- you come into my life when I don’t want you in it and make it a living hell?! You’ve only been here for an hour, what the fuck is wrong with you?!” you yelled and watched as she stood up “I did my best and you’ve always been so unappreciative, you make it so hard to be your mother!” she yelled back at you.

You stared back at her with a stone-cold expression before moving out of Steve’s arms slowly, walking away and going upstairs to your room. 

Your mother scoffed and grabbed her bag “The nerve of her. I give her everything and this is how she repays me?!” 

Steve glared at her before going to open the front door “It’s time for you to go, my fiancé needs me”

She furrowed her eyebrows and went over to him “You’re engaged? Is that something else she’s kept from me?”

“Not yet, but I’m just practicing for when I ask. Don’t contact Y/N again, don’t come back here, you clearly have no respect for her and I’m not gonna allow you to hurt her, now go” 

She scoffed and left the house before Steve slammed the door behind her. He ran a hand over his beard before going upstairs to be with you. 

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[scarlettromanov]

Business as Unusual - Chapter 5: The Truth

CHAPTER FIVE: The Truth

Chapter One   Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four

pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanov x Reader word count: 4.2K Summary: Summary: You have always been one of Wanda's favorite employees. You will do anything she asks. What happens when her wife finds out? What happens when you find out the secrets of the company? warnings(18+only):  brief mentioning of Steve Rogers; eventual kate bishop; CEO! Wanda Maximoff; Brief mentioning of Stephen strange; Jealousy; Dom/sub; Domestic Fluff; Eventual Smut; Hurt/Comfort; Childhood Trauma; Mob Boss Natasha Romanov; Smoking; Food; Caffeine Addiction; mention of drugs; Alcohol; Mentions of Violence; mob wife Wanda Maximoff; Angst; NO CHEATING!; all parties communicate; brief Stephen strange slander

You’re sipping a cold glass of water. Wanda, despite being upset with you, set it down in front of you at the dinner table. She’s upset, but she still asks you if you would like ice cream after dinner. You answer, ‘yes please’, and she gives you a small smile and thanks you for using your manners. You feel the guilt from earlier this afternoon creeping its way into your mind again. Wanda hums to herself as she prepares dinner. Her back is to you while you enter the day's receipts into an excel spreadsheet. The kitchen is filled with the aroma of braised pork. You sit with your legs folded beneath you at the kitchen table, your jeans traded for sweatpants, and your shoes long forgotten by the front door.

Natasha appears from her office, now changed into a light gray hoodie and leggings. She pokes a head over your shoulder, looking at what you’re doing on your laptop. She hums in approval, ruffles your hair a bit, and goes over to kiss Wanda. Wanda, however, ducks out of Natasha’s arms with ease.

“Hey!”

“Y/N, can you give me a hand please?” Wanda asks without turning around to look at you or Natasha. Natasha turns to look at you confused. Biting your lip, you shrug at Natasha, indicating that you are unsure of what’s happening.

“Sure, Wanda.” You say, immediately ready to help. She smiles at you, and gives your hand a small pat. The two of you set the table together. Wanda does leave room at the table for Natasha, but clearly isn’t speaking to her wife. Nat watches with annoyance radiating off her as you and Wanda sit at the table.

“Malaysh,” Nat says before walking up behind Wanda’s chair. Wanda doesn’t listen though. She begins to eat her Pörkölt happily. You sit with your fingers wrapped around your glass of water. Nat's slender fingers wrap around Wanda’s shoulders. You’re bracing yourself to get up to leave. Not wanting to impose on their quarrel.

“Listen, Y/N is her own person.” Natasha starts, and Wanda looks up at the ceiling. Annoyance radiates off of her. You release your death grip on the glass. You shift uncomfortably as Nat brings you into this.

Why did she need to drag you into this??! All you wanted was a cup of coffee so that you would be able to stay awake while out with Wanda. Especially in new places you are more susceptible to running out of energy. A direct result of being severely overstimulated.

“Clearly you care about Y/N’s well-being, and so do I! But she’s a big girl who can decide to have coffee after 3 pm.” Natasha is staring down at her wife. She’s annoyed, and you can tell. She’s standing straight as a rod, her fingers dig ever so slightly into Wanda’s shoulders.

“She’ll be up all night Nat.” Wanda retorts, and Natasha rolls her eyes.

“You’re missing the point, Wands.” She points a finger at you, “It’s her life! It’s on her if she’s up all night. Y/N should know when enough is enough.” Wanda ignores her.

You are mortified, and you drop your gaze into your lap. Feelings of shame flood through you. Wanda didn’t trust you enough to know your limits. Natasha and Wanda’s arguing begins to become background noise in your head. You only heard the fast thumping of your heart in your ears. Natasha glances up to look at you, and sees that you’re retreating inward. She huffs, and drops her hands. Accepting that she isn’t going to win this argument. But Wanda isn’t done apparently; she reels, turning in her chair to face Natasha. Wanda stands, the sound of her chair scraping against the floor pierces through your ears. You cover your ears with cupped hands. Neither women notice your discomfort. Wanda was too busy getting so close to Natasha’s face with her own. Nat doesn’t back down though. Her face is composed, challenging her wife to speak her mind. If anything she appears more calm now that Wanda’s actually responding to her. Their faces merely inches apart.

Wanda’s voice raises to a new level when she speaks, “Oh and you’re so fucking perfect, Nat? How about when you you want Y/N to risk her life for the sake of-”  

“Why do you care so much about me?” The words fall out of your mouth. If words were visible they would’ve landed with a loud clang on your plate. Wanda and Natasha’s heads turn at the same time to look at you. You look up at them, tears glistening in your eyes. Threatening to spill over. Your hands still cupped over your ears. The sound of your speeding heart still plays loudly in your ears.

“Dorogoy?” Nat asks as she stares at you with terrified eyes.

“I’m not anyone special. I’m some twenty something with no money, no status, I can’t even eat without having some issue,” your eyes continue to water, and you blink back them back in frustration. Natasha and Wanda have gone silent, frozen in place as you continue,

“All I do is get paid to hang out with the both of you. Which I love doing, don’t get me wrong! Sure, I crunch numbers every night with Nat. But I don’t understand, why give a shit about me? I’m literally a nobody. I swear, my own father may have had a point when h-he.” You slam your eyes shut, and tears stream down your face. A hiccup bubbles through you. Your body shakes, as you attempt to push down the sobs. Your chest heaves as the panic attack fully sets in. Two sets of warm gentle hands find your skin. Trembling, your blurry eyes open to find Natasha and Wanda both knelt on the floor in front of you. Wanda with one hand runs her fingers through your hair, the other reaches up to catch your falling tears. Natasha rubbed small circles into your thigh soothingly, her brows pulled together with deep concern.

“You’re okay, Detka. We’re here, and you’re safe.” Wanda’s voice is so gentle. Hot tears fall down your cheeks, and you feel the small sob escape your lips. Balling your fists, you take the heels of your hands and press them deep into your eyes. Shame floods your mind because for the love of God you needed to get a grip. You are a blubbering mess in front of the two people that, quite frankly, mean the world to you.

“Baby, no.” Natasha husks, as she wraps her hands delicately around your wrists, and pulls your fists away from your face. Any thought of struggling out of Nat’s grasp disappears instant when her green eyes stare deeply into yours. There is a tenderness in her gaze that soothes your aching chest.

“I’m s-sorry.” You stutter, and Natasha shakes her head at you with a small smile.

“I don’t want to hear a single apology from you tonight.” She scolds you softly. Her finger tips brush against another fallen tear.

“Nat is right. You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart.” Wanda adds, resting her head on your shoulder. Both women slide their hands into yours, and give you a small squeeze. The gesture, usually just given from Natasha, calms your sobbing body more so. Little sniffles fill the room, and you practice breathing together. The two women share a knowing look before speaking again.

“Y/N, We are so sorry for not being more upfront with you, but if you give us the time now we can all talk, okay?” Wanda's voice is so calm. She waits patiently for you to respond. So you nod your head. All of her anger from earlier has evaporated into the soft version of Wanda that you are used to.

“Yes ma’am,” you mumble, and Natasha chuckles, knowing how much Wanda loves when you respond to her with that title. Wanda purposely ignores her wife. Instead she gives your head another squeeze and says,

“Let's go into the living room.” Silently you agree, and they help you to your feet. Hand in hand the three of you head into Wanda and Natasha’s living room. The large couch welcomes the three of you, and you settle in. Folding your legs to the side underneath you as you sit between the two women. Natasha extends her legs out, resting her feet on the coffee table to your right. Wanda sits pretzel style to your left.

“Okay,” you sigh, leaning your head back to rest against the couch cushions. You sink further into soft velvet like you do most afternoons while Wanda makes lunch. Wanda insisted on cooking you both lunch every day. She insisted that you sit in the living room, either with a book or your Nintendo switch, while she works in the kitchen. Despite your protests to help her, without a doubt, Wanda would hand you your Switch and order you to the living room. Sometimes the three of you would watch a film together after dinner, depending on how much work Natasha had for you. After a few weeks, it felt like you spent more time in Wanda and Natasha’s home than your own. Any more it felt like you only spent time sleeping in your large apartment across the street.

Wanda leans her head against the back of the couch, turning her head to speak to you, “You’re someone, Y/N. You always have been to me.” Wanda begins, she takes a small breath, pacing herself.

“I know you think that no one ever noticed you in the past two years at the company, but I did. I noticed the way you are quick with a joke. The way you worked your ass off for Steve. How every single accounting has been correct for the past two years…” she leans in a little closer to your face, “I was impressed, Detka.” Wanda smiles a bit. You think back to Wanda’s dizzying emails to you and Steve. Before Steve could even begin to type back to Wanda, you would respond faster and better than Steve ever could. You were always a step ahead of Steve. Wanda’s name would come across your computer screen, and you would be answering at the speed of light. You smile as you remember how your stomach would fill with butterflies when you answered Wanda’s emails. Always hoping for a smiley face or a ‘ good work y/n! ’ Which Wanda sometimes sent to you without Steve copied on the email.

“When I saw you fall a few weeks ago, my heart shattered when I saw you in pain. I wanted to care for you. I could see how that job was eating away at you. ” Her eyes shut as she continued to speak, “Natasha and I had talked about offering you this position. For a while now, actually, however we were never exactly sure if you would be open to taking it.” She takes another deep breath, losing her courage. Natasha nods encouraging her wife to continue. She shakes her head at Nat. Nat inhales deeply, and loudly blows the air out through her nostrils.

“Y/N, we want to protect you because Wanda and I sell illegally smuggled vibranium to black market traders, specifically the high profile criminal, Kingpin. We use the funding to find  trafficked and kidnapped women.” Natasha speaks from your other side. Your head whips to the side, and you meet Natasha’s gaze. Your face is stricken with deep confusion. You open your mouth and shut it. Pausing for another moment, and then ask,

“Kingpin?” The name of the individual is unfamiliar to you.

“He’s another crime boss that craves vibranium for his own selfish projects.” Wanda says, casting a look At Natasha that you didn’t quite understand. Another crime boss? Was she referring to Natasha? The woman to your left couldn’t possibly be a crime boss? She was the same woman who sneaks you extra scoops of ice cream. The woman who races you down the street just to let you win. The same woman who watches you play Animal Crossing, and imitates the sound of the villagers speaking. Natasha crosses her legs, throwing an arm over the back of the couch. Still feigning ease.

“He’s a client. I trade goods for money. What the asshole does with the vibranium is none of my concern. I do what I do to help not only my family, but women around the globe who need it most.” Natasha says a little coldly. You sit back, and think for a moment about Kingpin. You knew that name. It comes to you subtly, and then all at once.

“WAIT -” Their heads both snap to look at you, “KINGPIN IS THAT SUPER LARGE GUY IN A SUIT THAT I SAW ON THE NEWS.” Your voice is full of excitement. Wanda snorts, and she leans over and wraps an arm around your shoulders. You lean into her before continuing, eyes focused on Natasha. She doesn’t look amused at your comments.

“Nat, he could eat me in one bite!” You say with a flare of exasperation in your voice. Natasha quirk’s an eyebrow at you. Her half smirks, letting you know that she’s allowing herself to enjoy how ridiculous you are being. You giggle, swatting at her thigh playfully.

“Considering your size, dorogoy. I really don’t think it would be hard to gobble you up.”  Your cheeks blaze at her words, and Wanda stiffens next to you. Her fingers wrap around your shoulder.

“S-so what is my r-role in all of this?” You wonder aloud.

“You take the inventory. Crunch the numbers for us. Let us know how much we’ve made in revenue. Nat will work with you on how to distribute the funds, and our personal affairs as well. Ideally I would like you to do digital security for us,” Wanda says automatically. You turn to look at her, dumbfounded by the importance of your role. Wanda winks at you cheekily, before adding,

“You're highly intelligent, Y/N. We think you deserve a very important role.”

“So… no fist fighting?” You pout. This time it’s Natasha that busts into a laughing fit.

“Not if Wanda can help it,” Nat snickers before biting her thumb, looking the other way.

“I don’t understand. Do you think I’m weak or something?” You ask, turning to Wanda to look into her eyes. Her eyes have gone soft as she reads the serious confusion on your face.

“Detka, I…” she flutters her eyes to look at Natasha, who’s still looking away from you both, and then back to you.

“Natasha and I have developed feelings for you.” Her words don’t register in your brain at first. Nat’s head swivels back to look at Wanda. Both women remain silent, and you sit like a buffoon between them.The room remains silent as the gears begin to turn in your head. It’s Natasha’s voice that breaks the silence,

“Y/N, if it’s not reciprocated that’s completely okay. We still like you as a person very much-” Not hearing what the red head said, you cut her off,

“You have feelings for… me?” You say without stuttering. You’re flabbergasted. Deep confusion filling your face. You look back and forth between Wanda and Natasha. They both nod their heads. Blinking multiple times in a row you attempt to connect the dots.

“But I’m just some idiotic twenty something with a computer. I’m not even good looking? I’m-I’m just-”

Wanda cuts you off, and takes your hands in hers.

“You are very good looking, and not to mention astonishingly intelligent. When you, speak, Y/N, you have no idea how much Nat and I are swooning over your little thoughts and quirks,” Wanda says with her heart full out on her sleeve. Your cheeks turn a pale pink as you Shyly stare at Wanda. A few strands of hair fall in your face as your head casts downward. Hesitating, Wanda reaches up to push the fallen pieces behind your ear. Unbeknownst to you, your entire body has shifted so that you are fully facing Wanda. You hear Natasha get to her feet behind you. Gingerly she pulls you to your feet. She replaces you in your seat on the couch. You’re confused, and for a moment you wonder if this conversation is making Natasha upset. Before you can utter a word, Natasha pulls you into her lap. Your legs drape over both Natasha and Wanda’s laps. Natasha’s muscular arm wrapping around your waist.

“Even when you’re playing that little animal game on your Playstation, you’re so cute and funny.” Natasha explains giving you a little grin. She is so close to you that you worry that she can hear your heart jackhammering in your chest.

“It’s a Nintendo Switch Nat,” you groan, feeling tense in her lap. You think she can sense your building anxiety, and so she begins to run her hand up and down your back.

“All I want to know is where these Animals are crossing to.” Wanda says furrowing her brow. Your giggles grow with how serious Wanda was. Extending your arm, you bring your fingers to gently touch Wanda’s face.

“It’s just the name of the game, Wands.” You say with a grin. Wanda's skin is soft under your touch. She closes her eyes, while your fingers move to smooth over her singular forehead wrinkle. You snake your free hand into Natasha’s other hand. You all sit there for a few minutes letting the moment sink in. Eventually you pull your hand away from Wanda’s face, and she takes it into hers snugly. She leans against Nat’s shoulder smiling at you softly.

“I like you both too.” You admit. The room is uncomfortably hot. Or maybe it’s the bullets you are sweating. Wanda’s face lights up at your confirmation. She tightens her grip on your hand, giving it yet another firm squeeze. Nat too, is grinning ear to ear.

“I’m not really sure how this works though,” You admit sheepishly.

“Have you never been with a woman before?” Natasha muses. She does a once over of your outfit, and smirks. As if to say, “I've seen you in Doc Martens and you only drink Oat Milk.” Not to mention that Nat had caught you staring at her veiny hands on multiple occasions.

“Yes, I’ve had a girlfriend before. But I've never dated two women at the same time… who are like, you know, married to each other…” You trail off naming all of the factors that stood out to you.

“I really thought she was going to care more about the age gap.” Natasha says looking down at Wanda, who’s still resting her head on Nat’s shoulder. Wanda grins at her wife,

“I had a feeling that Y/N wasn’t opposed to the age gap,” Wanda says looking up at you, and you notice something in her expression. A mixture between lust and longing. You bite your lip and look down at your hands. Your heart feels like a hummingbird in your chest with how nervous her words were making you.

“It doesn’t matter much to me,” you say quietly, feeling the way your cheeks are flaming. How did you tell them that you’ve always gravitated towards older women? Your therapist says that you are seeking validation from older women due to your mother walking out on your father when you were 4 years old.

“I’m not putting a strain on your marriage right?” You ask, feeling yourself squirm under Natasha’s touch as you change the topic. Her hand rests comfortably on the small of your back, rubbing small circles into a knot with her thumb. Wanda runs her thumb back and forth over the back of your hand. The tender touch of one person was enough to overwhelm you. Now that you have two people showering you in affection your head is swimming. But still, you wonder if they are still giving each other the attention they deserve. You refuse to wreck this marriage.

“Y/N, Wanda and I have had an eye on you for a long time… not to sound creepy.” Nat’s voice is soft in your ears.

“What?”

“Your interview.” Wanda replies. You must look perplexed because she smiles, and shakes her head. Wanda looks up at the ceiling, getting lost in the memory.

“You walked in with a big nervous smile, and it had me floored for a moment. Not to mention that cute little stutter, and that you wear your emotions on your face so plainly. I watched you grow more confident in your position, until you were basically doing Steve’s job for him. I knew that you would grow tired of doing the work for someone else, who got all of the credit. When I offered this position to you, you took it. No questions asked. You will put in the work if it means giving you an ounce of accomplishment or power.” Wanda says. When her eyes finally meet yours you feel hot wet tears falling down your cheeks. Going under the radar for the past two years was not unnoticed like you had thought. You had spent the past two years feeling like the walls would collapse around you, and no one would give a singular fuck if you disappeared. However, there has always been Wanda. Watching from the wings for so long now. She saw your potential. She’s been waiting for this moment, ever so patiently.

Natasha coughs, interrupting you and Wanda from your longing gazes. Your expression is dazed. Nat tickles your side, and you let out a small yelp. She gives you an apologetic grin.

“I, on the other hand, heard more about you through Yelena at first. She saw you going into the office a few Saturdays here and there, getting ahead on your work. Or should I say, Steve’s work?” Natasha waggles her eyebrows at you, and you smile. Steve was a good boss, but damn the man was slow as snails when it came to technology and numbers.

You think back to those afternoons spent with your music playing through your computer speakers, singing softly to yourself while you chipped away at another spreadsheet for the monthly earnings. Yelena had stopped in to the office to pick up a few things the one Saturday. You figured that she’d forgotten something there before leaving for the weekend. It didn’t seem weird at the time. Yelena had purposely stopped to ask you what you were doing. Taking a look over your shoulder to read the spreadsheets, calling you a ‘workaholic supercomputer’, before heading back home to Kate.

The following Saturday, Natasha casually strolled up to your desk. Your glasses pushed to the top of your head, chewing on a pencils eraser. MUNA playing through your computer speakers.

‘Hey supercomputer’ she mused glancing over your computer monitor. You jumped at the sound of her voice. Natasha laughed, before asking,

“Why are you here, kid? It’s Saturday.”

“Supercomputers don’t require rest.” You said coyly, taking the eraser from between your teeth. Natasha quirked a brow. Her arms were folded across her chest. She rocks backwards suppressing a smile.

“Do supercomputers like coffee?” She asked you, starting to let the smile leak through. You were just happy Ms. Romanov was committing to the ‘supercomputer’ bit.

“Absolutely.”

And so the rest of the afternoon was spent with Natasha periodically checking in on you with another cup of coffee. She praised your work ethic, and told you to take Monday off. You declined, and admitted that this job gave you something to do.

“Supercomputer was such a lame nickname,” you giggle leaning into Natasha’s shoulder. The memory gives you more comfort as you settle into Nat's touch. Running her fingers through your hair you inhale her scent deeply. She smells like rose water.

“She called you that for a while, just so you know.”

The three of you sit like that for a while. You lean into Natasha’s right shoulder, and Wanda leans into her left.

“So Dorogoy, what do you say?” Natasha asks, her breath tickling your face. You scrunch your nose, grinning at her.

“About joining your… crime group? Or?” You ask burying your face into her shoulder further. Calling their mission a ‘crime group’ was the dorkiest thing you’ve ever said. Well maybe not as dorky as ‘supercomputer’ but still.

“I mean a date, sweetheart, With Wanda and I?”

“Yes, please.” You beam, peering up at Natasha and Wanda. The three of you exchange looks of excitement, all grinning ear to ear. Ever so gently, Natasha leans over to kiss your temple. You could’ve turned your head, and greeted her lips with yours. But you let the small gesture wash over you. Giving you hopes of what was to come.

“Oh, and Detka?” Wanda says, reaching over to lightly grab your chin, forcing you to look at her. Her emerald eyes are barely noticeable with how blown out her pupils are,

“You are already a part of our ‘crime group’.” Wanda’s tone is matter of fact, and the realization sets in. You’ve been working with Nat on inventory all of this time. Wanda leans back, closing her eyes before speaking again,

“You’re going to look so good on our arms, baby,” Nat hums in approval, also leaning her head back on the couch, shutting her eyes. So you follow suit, resting your head on Natasha’s shoulder, shutting your eyes with a little sigh. Despite being in the arms of a pair of criminals, you never felt more safe.

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