#it’s like so so many fans have thought Bucky would be like in his time as the Winter Soldier

[whispering-woodlands]

Please tell me someone else has started reading Winter Soldier: Cold Front and is also being very normal about it and losing their mind.

[nicoline1998enilocin]

''I'm in love with you, you grump!''

PAIRING | Bucky Barnes x Shy!Avenger!Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 1.6K

SUMMARY | You're currently on a mission with Sam and Bucky, so in order to blow of some steam the three of you decide to go to a bar. During the evening Sam brings up the topic of your dating life, and suddenly Bucky gets very grumpy, but you can't seem to figure out why. You're not exactly comfortable with the topic either, but his reaction seems a bit much in your eyes.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Reader is a bit shy, with a hint of social anxiety, Bucky and Reader are oblivious to each other's feelings, Sam is a bit of an instigator, confessed romantic feelings.

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜

Main Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

''Hey doll, want to join us at the bar? We're heading there later and Sam and I thought it might be fun to go all together,'' Bucky asked, even though he knew full well Sam didn't mind either way. ''Uh, do I have to...? I'd rather stay at the hotel, Buck,'' you tried, you weren't a big fan of going out, let alone going to a crowded bar on a Saturday evening. Every time they are going somewhere they try to get you to come with them, but you're not much of an outgoing person, or a people-person, for that matter. Sure, you were fine around Bucky, but the two of you spend a lot of time together, but you rarely hang out with Sam aside from missions.

''Please?'' Bucky asked with big puppy dog eyes, and as much as you didn't want to say no, you couldn't resist. ''Fine, but I won't dress up or anything, and I will stay for only an hour, that's it. ''It wouldn't want it any other way, doll,'' he said as he put his hand on your hip and he put a small kiss on your forehead as a thank you, which sets your inside completely ablaze at just the simplest of touches. This crush you had on Bucky is getting out of hand, and you don't know how much longer you can hold it in before you snap and accidentally tell him how you feel.

The weather is very nice where your mission is located, so you opt to go for a simple summer dress and a pair of Converse, your hair in a simple ponytail, and very little make-up. The dress shows a little more skin than you're used to, but you've been trying to step out of your comfort zone a little bit, trying to get rid of your shy-girl persona and instead being the badass you know you can be. This seems like a good start in your mind, and not much later all three of you are heading to a bar, you're clinging to Bucky's arm as if your life depends on it. ''You okay, doll?'' he whispered in your ear, you must have been squeezing harder than intended. ''Uh, yeah I guess,'' you muttered.

God, you were feeling very uncomfortable, not just with your outfit choice, but with everything around you. There were too many people doing who knows what, and the air in the bar seems a little bit constricting, but you promised Bucky an hour so that's the least you will do for him. In all honesty, you'd do almost anything for him if he asked, but that's mainly due to this crush you've had on Bucky, which honestly feels more like you've fallen head over heels in love with the super soldier, the more you think about it. When the three of you arrive at the bar you immediately go seek out a place to sit, and much to your relief, you find a booth in a quiet part of the bar.

''Can I get you guys anything to drink?'' Bucky asked and you just nodded, Sam ordered a beer. ''Anything specific you might like?'' he smiled at you, turning a bit flustered and red at the question. ''Uh... I- uh, I'll take a beer too, please,'' you stuttered, hoping the floor would just open up and swallow you whole right then and there. ''Alright, three beers coming right up,'' he said as he walked to the bar. Neither you nor Sam said anything while he was away, and you didn't mind. You got your phone out of your bag and started scrolling through social media to keep your mind a little busy until Bucky came back. Not long after he returned, handing you your beer and you gave him a smile as a thank you.

''So, anything new with you guys?'' Sam asked, and he and Bucky were in a conversation about something you didn't particularly care for, so you were just picking at the label on your bottle. This was how it usually went and also the reason you'd rather have stayed back at the hotel. You were deep in thought and didn't notice the men across from you were looking at you expectantly. ''Uh, sorry, did you- did you ask something?'' you said as you turned bright red, not looking either of them in their eyes because you were embarrassed. ''It's okay, Y/N, no need to be shy!'' Sam said, which only made you feel worse. ''I asked if there's anything new in your dating life,'' he said again, and it didn't help much.

''Uh, no, yeah, I have been on a few dates, but it wasn't going anywhere,'' you said, mostly because you were afraid to text them back after the date, and it never got past one, if you didn't walk out during the date itself. ''You know how it goes,'' you said with a shy chuckle, which immediately died down as soon as it left your throat, you were feeling extremely uncomfortable. The main reason it never went anywhere however, is because they weren't Bucky, but you would never admit that to anyone, the bond you have with him is special and you don't want to risk losing that connection you two share.

The moment you finished your answer you immediately dropped your eyes down, to where your fingers were still picking at the corners of the label on your bottle. Because you did this you didn't see the way Bucky's face dropped at the mention of you going on dates, you never told him that and he wasn't all too happy with it in all honesty. He got up and stomped out of the bar, he needed some fresh air to clear his mind a little bit because he almost told you he wishes you would have gone on a date with him, and he didn't want to tell you like that. You quickly went after him after apologizing to Sam.

''Buck, what's wrong?'' you asked as you grabbed his arm when you were both outside. He pulled his arm away from you and ran his hands through his hair to make sure he wouldn't do anything stupid right now. ''Why didn't you tell me why you went on dates? I always tell you everything, even when I have a date,'' Bucky said, not sure why he would emphasize that part exactly. ''I-, I'm sorry, I just didn't want to mention it, in case it would make you uncomfortable. I mostly went on those dates to get you out of my head, but it never worked,'' you said now that you got a sudden confidence boost. You don't have a single clue where it came from, but you would embrace it for however long it lasted.

''Why-, wait, get me out of your head? Did I ever do anything to hurt or upset you for you to need me out of your head?'' he said and he slowly started spiraling a little bit. ''Buck, no, please look at me, you never did anything wrong-'' you said but his face said all you needed to know. He started pacing back and forth over the sidewalk and didn't look at you, so you took measures into your own hands by grabbing his arms. ''Bucky, look at me, please! I never told you I went on dates because I'm in love with you, you grump! I have been head over heels for you ever since we first met, and that's why I never told you. I thought that if I went on dates, I would get those thoughts and feelings out of my head, but they never did,'' you explained, finally looking into his eyes as you confessed your feelings. What Bucky did next honestly surprised you to your core.

''I'm in love with you too, doll, fuck it feels good to finally say it out loud! I've been trying to keep it shoved away because I thought you didn't feel the same, but now that I know you do, I just want to tell you a thousand, no a hundred thousand times how much I love you, and how in love I am with you!'' he said as he let out a nervous laugh, he was completely overcome with relief and still finds it hard to believe your feelings are out in the open now. On a whim he grabbed your face and placed his lips onto yours, hoping that if it was a dream, he would have at least felt your lips at least once, but it isn't a dream, it was real, and you couldn't be happier.

''Thank god, now I can finally breathe normally around you guys!'' Sam exclaimed as he walked out of the bar with a huge grin on his face. You and Bucky quickly pulled apart and let each other go, mostly out of reflex as it kind of felt like he caught the two of you doing something unspeakable. ''Don't stop on my account, I don't care what the two of you do as long as you both keep it in your pants,'' he said and you turned bright red and you stared at the pavement, you would never get used to comments like that. ''Doll, can you look at me?'' Bucky said as he placed a finger under your chin and lifted it to meet his gaze. ''I love you, and I will never let you go now that I know you love me too,'' he said, sealing it with another soft kiss on your lips. You felt truly happy in this moment, and wouldn't change it for the world.

[navybrat817]

What if Bucky doesn't want to go outside on a cold day?

Then he doesn't have to, nonnie.

Shiver

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky isn't a fan of the cold weather. Not anymore. Word Count: Over 1.1k Warnings: Slight angst, past trauma, comfort, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: This just screams Addicted to Love Bucky to me because our reader is so good for him. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky Barnes didn’t like the cold.

It sounded ridiculous when he said it out loud to himself. He ran warmer than most thanks to the serum that will forever course through his veins, so it physically shouldn’t be an issue. The hottest fire still wouldn’t be able to suppress his shiver when he sees the falling snow each winter, too many dark memories flashing through his mind to count.

Winter. Cold. Death.

Fitting how many saw the bitter season as harsh, calm, and silent when he had been the living embodiment of those elements thanks to Hydra. Harsh and calm in his executions, they made him death incarnate by forever silencing his victims. Unlike the beautiful serenity of a new fallen snow, there was no peace when he completed his missions.

They muzzled him to keep him quiet, but it never silenced the voices in his head.

“Bucky?” You asked as you closed the curtain, blocking the snow from his line of sight. You slowly walked over and took a seat beside him on the sofa when he stayed quiet. “Are you okay?”

He hadn’t realized how wide and distant his eyes were until he blinked the thoughts from his mind. He tried to give you an assuring smile as you patiently waited for him to respond, but it was something akin to a grimace. On one hand, he didn’t want to make a fuss out of nothing and possibly worry you. On the other hand, he didn’t want to pretend everything was okay.

“I don’t know,” he whispered truthfully, clenching his vibranium hand.

It didn’t go unnoticed by you. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He swallowed thickly and exhaled when his heart thudded faster. He had nothing to fear. You were there beside him in the loving home you crafted together with care.

It helped his next breath come easier.

“I just saw the snow out there and…” he trailed off, not wanting to say more as he shook his head.

You nodded as if you knew what his answer would be. It was no wonder you closed the curtain when you said minutes before how pretty it looked outside. “Well then, why don’t we stay in today? I don’t see any reason for us to go out there.”

He shook his head after a moment. “But we’re supposed to go sledding later,” he reminded you.

While you sounded excited to try it, he was torn. He feared flying down a hill would remind him of falling. Would he land in a heap when he reached the bottom, paralyzed as someone dragged him away? Would the snow’s beauty be a calming presence or would red splotches bleed into his vision?

In his heart, he knew you would be there beside him with a smile bright enough to light up the darkness and chase those shadows away.

But the voices of the past drowned out the logic of the present.

You gingerly placed a hand on his cheek and gave him a soft smile as he leaned into your touch with a sense of desperation. It was almost warm enough to rid himself of the chill he produced by lingering for too long on memories best left for another time. If he was once the embodiment of death, you were life.

The spring to my winter.

“No, I think we’re supposed to stay inside today and watch movies under a blanket until it’s time to eat,” you corrected him, as if that was the plan all along.

His forehead creased as he searched your face. “You really don’t want to go out today?”

“I really don’t,” you said, simply scooting closer and grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch. You securely wrapped it around him and rubbed his arms with that same soft smile he loved. “Why would I want to go out there when I have everything I need right here?” You added, brushing your fingers through his hair as he sighed.

His eyes burned, but tears didn’t come. You were the type of person to exude compassion without making him feel like a burden. How was it fair to you that you ended up with a partner like him?

“Are you upset?” He asked in a tiny voice as his eyes flickered to yours, only to be met with compassion.

If you wanted to go sledding or do any sort of activity in the snow, he would find a way to reach down inside himself and push the discomfort aside.

Don’t I owe it to you to try?

“Of course not. My only concern is that you’re okay,” you assured him, bringing your hand back to his cheek. Your touch pushed away the demons inside that tried to rip him apart. “And if that means staying inside, so be it.”

He swallowed again, still not used to someone so understanding offering him a kindness. “I just don’t like the cold. Not anymore. I don’t know if I ever will,” he admitted above a whisper, blinking rapidly as your thumb moved in circles along his skin. “But as funny as it sounds, I don’t mind when you’re cold.”

You tilted your head, curiosity filling your gorgeous eyes. “And why is that?”

“Because I get to keep you close and make you warm again,” he answered, bumping his nose against yours. “It makes me feel like I’m doing something right for a change.”

You put so much energy into taking care of him and he did his best to return it full force.

His eyes slipped shut when you pressed a kiss to his forehead, your lips sending a wave of heat through his head. “You’re doing everything right,” you said against his skin.

He chuckled a bit, wishing that was true. “I’m still a work in progress. Still trying,” he said. He was on his way to believing he was doing things right though thanks to you.

“That’s what counts,” you said, tilting his chin so his lips met yours. “You’re a good man, Bucky Barnes.”

“And you’re an angel for putting up with me,” he teased, covering your mouth with his again before you could argue that you weren’t putting up with him.

As Bucky deepened the kiss, he further believed that you were the spring to his winter. His good fortune. His happiness. Hope for a fresh start and an even better future. And while he may never learn to love the cold again, he would try to look on the bright side of his circumstances that brought him to you.

Because how could one love and appreciate the spring if they didn’t endure the winter?

It was that very thought that finally quieted the voices in his mind.

Bucky deserves only good things, okay? Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[tremendouscreationperson]

Bucky Barnes x Chubby!Reader imagine

It had been really difficult to blow Bucky off each time he asked to hang out. In fact it had been really difficult to ignore the whole friendship group. If you went out with Steve, no doubt Bucky would be there. If you went out with Nat, no doubt Bucky would hear and ask you to meet him the following day. The same goes for Sam, Wanda and, fuck it, even Tony.

So you all but secluded yourself in your room. Which wasn't your choice really but your boyfriend Alex hadn't taken kindly to your close relationship with another man. He wasn't convinced that even though you two grew up together you could be 'just friends'. And to his credit he wasn't really wrong. You had harboured a fat crush on your closest friend for a while but it was unrequited and then Alex came into your life and he was the first guy who actually showed an interest in you. It wasn't something you were used to in the slightest. Being friends with beauties like Natasha and Wanda you were often looked over by those not in the friend group but Alex had sought you out.

So here you were, on a Saturday, missing out whatever fun shenanigans were going on. Scrolling through various apps in your pjs like a party animal.

A knock at your door startled you out of mindlessly scrolling.

You sat yourself up and hoped to god you weren't nose blind and the room smelt okay.

"I'm decent." You joked.

The door opened and the very person you were avoiding ducked his head in. Fuck Bruce. You had told him not to let anyone in.

"Oh my god. You're alive." He joked back shutting the door behind himself. Bucky sauntered into your room, with the same swagger he always had, plonking himself down on your bed.

Not sure what to say in response, you go to the diplomatic, "You okay?"

He gives you a half shrug and leans backwards. "Missing my partner in crime. Thought I'd visit you."

You merely nod in reply.

This is the first ever awkward silence you and Bucky had sat through. It spread out horribly, stretching until you gave a very fake cough. Hoping any noise would solve it. It didn't.

"Right, okay, just go straight to the point." Bucky muttered. "Look, why are you avoiding me, angel? What did I do?"

Bucky's gaze was always piercing but today the intensity winded you. Why were you avoiding him?

There was no use lying anymore. You'd used up all your excuses anyway. You couldn't be sick again or have work again you just needed to tell him. He deserves honesty. "Alex isn't our biggest fan."

"Yeah, I knew that." Bucky chuckled. "I just didn't realise his dick was worth all your friends." You tutted at his crude remark. "He told me off for piggybacking you at the fair. 'she doesn't let me carry her, why are you'." His impression was eerily good.

You chuckled a little at the idea of Alex confronting Bucky. "He was not pleased that evening."

"He doesn'-" Bucky shook his head.

"Doesn't what?"

"Nothing." He ran a hand through his locks. "Where is he anyway?"

"He's at a friend's birthday."

Bucky's eyebrows were in his hairline. "And he has taken you?"

This was a sore topic. But you'd been honest so far... "I didn't fit into the dress."

Now he was frowning. "What dress?"

You motioned to your wardrobe. "He brought me a dress, I've been working to get into it but."

"Been wor-" Bucky's frown somehow got deeper. "Why would he buy you a dress that doesn't fit you?"

Your mouth opened and closed but you didn't have an answer.

Bucky stomped over to the wardrobe and opened it. There was a dress resting against the door, it was enclosed in plastic so he had to unzip it. The dress was tiny. It was a little strappy thing with far too many holes. What were the holes supposed to- oh they were going to expose your sides and back.

"This i-" He turned to you. "You'd never wear this. It's not even your colour."

You couldn't agree more. "I know, it's been a little arguement between us." That was an understatement.

"I still don't understand why he buys you something that didn't fit." You shrugged but before you could respond he continued, "what's this?"

Your eyes flicked down to the pile he was caught on. "Oh, those ar- those are your hoodies."

Bucky gave you a confused face. "Bu- these are yours, angel."

You smiled sweetly at him. "Alex wasn'-"

"I don't care about him. He buys you shit that doesn't fit, he goes to parties without you, he isolates you from your friends." Bucky sat back on the bed but much closer, just by your hip. "Why are you with him?"

You didn't know. You liked him. You think you love him. But when you really think of it, you don't know. You're not any happier with him than if you weren't. Sometimes he says things and you feel fat in a bad way. You'd be the first to say you weren't thin but the way he says it makes you feel wrong. "He's the first guy to actually show an interest in me, I suppose at first I enjoyed it but when you say it like that."

"He is not the first guy to show you an interest." Bucky shook his head in disbelief. "You're gorgeous."

You rolled your eyes. "Thanks. But when I'm out with the gang I'm not really being looked at."

"You are." Bucky vowed. "I- people do look at you. I-I sometimes don't like the way they look at you and maybe I dance with you and maybe I take you on the Ferris wheel."

Why wouldn't he like the way they looked at you? Your brows pulled. "The way they look at me?"

"Like you're just a quick fuck." He instantly regretted that. "No, they look at you with lust but I know they would leave. They wouldn't treat you right. They wouldn't care for you." His eyes were bright and honest. He wasn't embarrassed by his confession.

You had nothing. No response. What could you say that wouldn't betray the crush? You didn't still like him, no, well ... When he looked at you like that...

"Come on." He clapped a hand on your knee. "Get changed let's get pizza." The look on your face must've shown your obvious debate. "I don't care if you don't fit into that dress, you look like you haven't eaten anything good in ages."

[ro-is-struggling]

Dark Side of Me || Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: The plan you and your friends had come up with to celebrate your 21st birthday was simple: go to as many bars as you could in one night and stay out of the hospital. You weren't a big fan of it, but everyone had done it and now it was your turn. However, things went off the rails quickly and you ended up being dragged to Heroes, a superhero-themed strip club. You thought it was a bad idea, until you met the cold, piercing blue eyes of the Winter Soldier and simply couldn't look away.

Or the one when reader gets her first lap dance

Warnings: stripper AU, stripper!bucky x innocent!reader, suggestive tones, lap dance (I tried really hard), no actual smut, alcohol consumption, reader giving in to peer pressure, fem reader

English is not my first language

Word count: 4400

Notes: I watched magic mike the other day and apparently I am now obsessed with stripper aus. The movies have a softer side that I wasn't expecting but I loved it and that's the vibe I'm trying to recreate here. If you want to understand some of the dance moves I'm trying to describe here you should watch the movie! I tried really hard with this one (describing dancing is waay harder than I thought so I hope it makes sense)

I’m open to writing more of these two, so let me know if you’d like that and don't hesitate to stop by my asks/messages if you have any ideas!

tagging: @asgards-princess-of-mischief

What had started out as a night of celebrating your 21st birthday quickly went off the rails and turned into something completely different. The plan was to get wasted —legally this time—, visit a couple of bars and get home before you ended up in the hospital. You weren't usually a party and alcohol lover —you just went to have a good time with your friends—, but you recognized that your 21st birthday was an important event that deserved to be celebrated. Besides, your friends had assured you that they would behave themselves and that things would not get out of control -well, not that much at least.

In hindsight, you should have figured that wouldn't happen. Although nothing could have prepared you for ending up at Heroes, a strip club your friends had apparently been to before. You tried to say no at first, but you were a little buzzed and you'd never been good at saying no to your friends anyway, so eventually you agreed. The place was exactly what you imagined and completely different at the same time, if that made sense. Dark, loud and warm, but much nicer than you expected. The dim lights gave it a very intimate feel, highlighting certain spaces with red or purple lights that made it look aesthetically pleasing to the eye. The music played loudly, trying to drown out some of the shouting of the women throwing bills onto the catwalk where the dancers performed their routines, but it wasn't anything you couldn't handle.

From the moment you settled at your table, a sort of strange sisterhood was generated between you and the groups of women seated in your proximity. Similar to bumping into a stranger in the bathroom at a party and reacting as if you were lifelong friends, you quickly engaged in casual conversation with the group of women at a bachelorette party to your right, and the one celebrating a divorce to your left. You complimented each other's outfits, shared a few drinks, and screamed with all your might in unison every time a dancer approached your side of the stage —or made quick eye contact with one of you. It created such a pleasant and fun atmosphere that for a moment you almost forgot where you were.

It stopped being nice and fun though when your friend came up with the idea of paying for a private dance and you had to face the force of a group of women pressuring you to accept. You had made the silly mistake of letting one of your friends know that you really thought the dancer who called himself the Winter Soldier was cute. You hadn't been able to take your eyes off him during his routine. And since that was the most interested you had ever been in any of the dancers, your friend thought it would be a good idea to treat you to a private dance.

“What am I supposed to do locked in a room with him?” You panicked as your friends dragged you to a more private area of the club to wait for your gift.

“I don't know, enjoy, I guess?” She laughed, practically pushing you into the arms of the man waiting to lead you to the Winter Soldier. You wanted to snap at her, but you kept silent, embarrassed by the stranger's presence. The last thing you needed was to make an even bigger fool of yourself by looking like an innocent, prudish fool.

But the problem was just that. You were a silly, innocent, prudish young woman that didn't have the slightest idea of what to do in a situation like that. You could feel the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears, drowning out the screaming and the bass of the music that was getting farther and farther away. Your stomach was turning with nerves as you sat waiting in the chair in the center of the room, just as the man had indicated before disappearing behind the door. Your hands rested awkwardly in your lap, your body immobile as you contemplated your options —perhaps if you remained completely still, he wouldn't be able to see you there, it was dark after all. 

You thought about running away from there. You were alone, the dancer had not yet appeared and the hallway was dark, you would probably be able to sneak out without even your friends noticing. You would send them a text later explaining everything, when you were out and away from their clutches so they couldn't drag you there again. But when you went to get up, you found that your legs didn't respond. Only this time it didn't feel like it was part of the nerves you were having at the thought of what was about to happen. 

You discovered then that a part of you, hidden behind a lot of shame and fear of the unknown, was curious. You wondered what it would feel like to be in a room alone with him, what it would feel like to have him touch you —even in the lightest, most subtle way—, to have him press his body against yours as he had done on stage with a lucky girl in the audience. You'd never experienced anything remotely similar to that, you'd barely shared make-out sessions with your ex-partner that weren't particularly memorable-not in the way the Winter Soldier's dance was for you. You had the movement of his hips burned into your memory, the image of his flexing muscles popping up every time you closed your eyes. You wanted more of him, even if you couldn't bring yourself to admit it. 

The sensual rhythm of the music that suddenly began to play brought you out of your thoughts. You looked up and there he was in all his glory. He was wearing a different outfit, a simple tank top and loose-fitting sweatpants. The tactical suit and mask that covered half his face in his routine had probably been left forgotten in some basket behind the stage, but you didn't mind. You could see more of him now, the real him, and you liked that. It felt more intimate, more genuine.

He could sense the nervousness in your voice when you told him your name. You had trouble maintaining eye contact with him, your eyes lingering for a full three seconds on his figure before returning to your hands. Your fingers fiddled with the hem of your flowy dress. It intrigued him. He had worked with flustered women before —it was more common than one might imagine—, but there was something about you that stood out. You looked so out of place there, with your innocent look and shaky breath. Everything about your body expression told him that you wanted to curl up in a ball and pretend you weren't there. Everything except a slight glint in your eyes that he almost missed as quickly as you looked away from him. It would be his challenge to get that side of you to come out. 

“That's a beautiful name,” he said in a soft voice. You smiled, but your eyes didn't search his, focusing instead on the red light shining on the wall behind him. So he leaned in front of you, settling down to your eye level so you couldn't escape. “I'm Bucky, by the way, and there's no reason to be nervous around me, princess.” 

Your face warmed at that affectionate nickname and a tingle spread through your body. It had been a while since the last time someone had called you that. You liked it, it made you feel special even if it came from a stranger's mouth.

“Why did you come here tonight? You don't seem like the type of woman that frequents these places.”

“I'm not! I'm here because my friends thought it'd be a good idea... a fun way of celebrating my 21st birthday.” 

“Oh well happy birthday then!” Bucky gave you a smile and you thought that was the best present you had received all day. “Are you having a good time?

“Yea-yeah, I am.” Your voice was soft, almost inaudible. Bucky got the impression that you were embarrassed to admit that out loud.

“Are you uncomfortable, y/n? Do you want to leave? Cause I can give you a full refund and let you go right now if that's what you want.”

“No!” you were quick to say, big eyes staring at him for the first time since he had introduced himself to you. “I'm just a bit... scared, I guess. I've never done anything like this before. Actually, I've never done anything for that matter.” 

You didn't know what prompted you to confess to Bucky —a complete stranger who danced and stripped for a living— your complete inexperience in sexual matters, but you couldn't turn back now. You supposed it was to be transparent, though there was no reason for such a thing. It wasn't like you were there to have sex, he was just going to dance on you for a bit and then you'd go back to your normal, boring life. 

“Well, then I have to let you know that you are in full control here.” Bucky spoke in a soft tone full of understanding. His cold, piercing blue eyes softened, showing a warmth that helped calm your nerves a bit. “I do have a routine, but if there's something that I do that you don't like you can just tell me and I'll stop, okay?” You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the tingle of anticipation running through your body. “Good! Are you ready?”

At your nod, Bucky got up from the floor to press play on the music. Suddenly, the silence was filled by a soft, sensual beat similar to others that had echoed through the club throughout the night. He approached you with a slow pace, his eyes never leaving your face, studying your expression. Then he took one of your hands in his and rested it on his chest, still covered by the thin fabric of his white muscle shirt. You couldn't help but notice how much bigger his hands were compared to yours. You could barely see your fingertips as he wrapped his hand around yours, trapping it against his chest. His calloused fingers didn't let go as he slowly guided your hand down, allowing you to caress his chest as he rubbed small circles over your skin. It was such an intimate touch for the situation you were in, that for a moment you forgot he was a stripper who did this for a living.

The air caught in your throat, your heart pounding against your chest as your hand traveled lower and lower. You could feel the firmness of his abs under your fingers and the heat emanating from his skin. It filled you with anticipation, with need. You wanted to feel more of him, more of his body and his touch. More of his warmth and the intoxicating scent of his cologne. But before your hand reached his waist, he pulled it away. Your eyes shot up to his face, waiting patiently for Bucky to give you instructions to proceed.

He removed his shirt and as soon as the fabric touched the floor, his hands were on yours again, trapping them against his chest. Bucky liked the way you let him guide you, closing your eyes as you enjoyed something as simple as the feel of his skin under your fingers. He was used to dealing with more... confident women. They knew what they wanted and weren't afraid to demand it. Their hands were always everywhere, touching his crotch without hesitation every chance they got. But you were different. You didn't know what you wanted —what you were missing— and you were willing to let him show you. He enjoyed the slower pace, it was a nice change that allowed him to try new things. So in a way, you were both experiencing something different there.

Your eyes suddenly widened as you felt the fabric of Bucky's sweatpants brush against your fingers. Your face heated up, embarrassment taking over your expression. But he didn't let your hand slip away, on the contrary, he pushed it a few inches lower and made you cling to the elastic of the pants. He gave you a cheeky smile before he started moving to the rhythm of the music. His hand didn't let go of yours as he positioned himself in your lap, grinding his hips against yours with an experience that shouldn't have surprised you. 

Bucky fixed his eyes on you as he danced, keeping you in a kind of hypnotic trance from which you could not wake up. Your eyes followed his, your body responding to his movements without a single complaint. He trapped you between the chair and his body, one of his hands clinging firmly to the back of the chair while the other traveled to your cheek. You leaned into his touch, enjoying the warm caress of his fingers. His face came so close to yours that you could feel his breath mingling against your quickened breathing, his nose brushing against yours. For a moment you thought he was going to kiss you, so you closed your eyes, letting the euphoric sensation of desire consume you. 

But suddenly, Bucky rose from your lap. You couldn't contain the whimper that escaped your lips, a protest at his devastating absence. Although he wasn't completely gone, you could feel him at your back, his hands caressing your neck, his nose inhaling the scent of your hair. The ghost of his lips traveling from the sweet spot behind your ear to your collarbone, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He wasn't even kissing you and you were already experiencing things you had never felt before in your years of relationship.

With a graceful and sensual move, Bucky is once again on your lap, trapping you against the chair. He wasn't putting his full weight on you, but enough for you to feel it as he moved his hips. Your eyes traveled south, curious about the bulge that the sweat pants still hid. You'd never seen one before — well, outside of biology and health classes— and you'd never felt the urge to do so. But the way Bucky was moving on you made you wonder about things. You heard him let out a chuckle and looked away in embarrassment, knowing you'd been caught.

“You can look,” Bucky whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “That's what I'm here for, doll.” He stroked your arms, his fingers traveling slowly from your shoulders to your wrists. Then he took your hands and placed them back on his bare chest. “You can touch too, I don't mind.”

The desire traveling through your veins made you feel more confident this time, so you didn't need Bucky to guide your hands down his body. They acted at their own accord, fingers slowly tracing the defined muscles of his pecs and abs. You weren't yet comfortable going below his hips, so once you reached the edge of his pants you changed course to his back. Down, up and back down, your nails drew light red marks on his skin as he moved in your lap. You didn't even realize what you were doing, you just knew you liked hearing the sounds that escaped Bucky's lips when you accidentally applied too much pressure. 

The lowest your trembling hands dared to go were his thighs. Bucky could see in your eyes the desire to go further —to brush your fingers over his bulge or squeeze his ass—, but shame and fear stopped you. You were trying so hard to keep your composure, to behave like a lady, but you couldn't fool Bucky. He knew what you wanted, even when you weren't ready to admit it. He saw it in the way your eyes darkened with each passing second and in the way your breathing became more and more erratic. The innocent, good girl shell you had when you entered the room was cracking, allowing your dark desires to come out. Bucky probably shouldn't find that so exciting, but he did. He couldn't help it, watching the innocence slowly leave your eyes, knowing that he was the one corrupting you, was a sight to behold. 

Your lips curled into a pout of protest as Bucky rose from your lap, already missing the heat of his body pressed against yours. It was only for a moment, but to you it felt like an eternity. And he was counting on it, playing with the anticipation as he made a show of taking off his pants. This time your eyes lingered on his tight boxers for longer, though he could still see a flash of embarrassment as you crossed glances with him. It was driving him crazy, in the best possible way. He wanted to remove that innocence from your expression, to corrupt you past the point of no return. It was his personal goal, the challenge he had quietly accepted the moment he discovered what you were. And he was willing to win it.

Bucky dropped to his knees in front of you, his eyes never leaving yours as his fingers traced your legs. Your chest rose and fell with your quickening breath, your whole body buzzing with anticipation as you felt the gentle caresses moving from your ankles to your knees. To your surprise, his fingers continued their path up your thighs, though they stopped just below the hem of your dress. You resisted the urge to tangle your fingers in his hair as you felt him spread your legs slightly apart —enough for him to fit between them, but not enough to leave you too exposed to his eyes. And then the caresses over your body returned, only this time it was the ghost of Bucky's lips that sent shivers across your skin.

His mouth wasn't actually touching your thighs, but he was so damn close that you could almost feel his lips caressing the soft, sensitive skin on the inside of your leg. A warm tingling spread inside you as he moved further up, getting dangerously close to your trembling center. And at that moment you felt no shame or fear —like you had felt on other occasions with past partners. On the contrary, you wanted more, your legs involuntarily spreading wider to give Bucky more room as the ghost of his lips traveled up your lower tummy and across your abdomen until they reached your breasts. And as your breathy moans became more and more audible, your mind was lost in dark thoughts, wondering how different it would all feel if there was no barrier of clothing separating your bodies or how his wet kisses would feel on the sensitive skin of your thighs. 

You didn't have much time to get lost in the fantasy though because in a second Bucky was on his feet again, pressing you against the back of the chair as he pushed your legs up. He settled down on the edge of the chair, resting each of your legs on his thighs. His hands gripped the back of the chair once again, trapping you completely between the cushions and his body —or rather, his crotch. You were practically sitting on his lap as you shared the chair, and you could feel his cock pressing against your center with every thrust of his hips. He was hard and you didn't know how common that was, but you decided to believe it wasn't something that happened often. You liked to imagine that his body was reacting to you and not to the sexual nature of his work. He wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

Bucky's hips moved to the sensual rhythm of the music, thrusting against your center in a way that made you feel like you were losing your virginity at that very moment. It was too much, the fire inside you spreading with the speed of a forest fire. And at the same time, it wasn't enough. Bucky's hip movements, though intense, did little to put out the flames they had started. They were pulling you into a swirl of desire and need, bringing you closer and closer to your limit with no promise of real relief. It was frustrating, in a way, but also incredibly exciting. 

Your eyes closed for a moment as you struggled to process the sensations that were taking over your body. You tried to focus on your breathing and the sound of the music, anything to keep yourself grounded. But every time you thought you had managed to gain control of your own body again, Bucky moved his hips and all you could feel was pleasure, all you could think about was him. 

A moan escaped your lips. It was involuntary and you didn't even realize what you did until a few seconds later. You were ready to apologize, certain you had crossed some kind of line, but Bucky let out a grunt of approval. One of his hands traveled to the back of your neck, holding your head firmly as he pressed his forehead against yours. His fingers tugged on your hair lightly, but the pain didn't bother you. You were too focused on the shape of his lips to think about anything else. You needed to feel them against yours. You needed to know what it would feel like to be kissed by him. You needed Bucky to take everything from you, to show you everything you'd been missing in these years of loneliness.

“C-can you k-kiss me?” You didn't think before you spoke, you just expressed what your mind was thinking without any kind of filter. Your voice was barely a shy whisper, your lips almost brushing against Bucky's as you spoke.

He should have refused, the number one rule of his job was never to kiss the clients —you never knew what things you might end up catching. But when Bucky saw the desperation in your eyes he couldn't help himself. Your slightly parted lips were highly tempting. You were inviting him, giving him permission to ruin you. You needed it as much as he did, so he gave in, and damned the rules. 

Bucky's lips felt soft against yours, though there was nothing soft about the way he kissed you. Just like his dancing, the kiss was intense and unlike anything you had ever experienced before. His lips moved expertly, knowing exactly what to do to turn you completely stupid. You let him guide you, merely reacting to the pleasure that only Bucky seemed capable of giving you. 

His tongue caressed your lips and you moaned into his mouth, allowing him immediate access to further deepen the kiss. Your hands clung to him —one digging your nails into his bicep while the other rested on his leg—, desperate to find something to keep you grounded while Bucky showed you sensations you didn't know you were capable of feeling. 

You were high on pleasure, trapped under his body, immobilized by his lips, enveloped in his warmth and the scent of his cologne. You didn't want to be separated from him anymore. You didn't want to leave that room. You felt as if Bucky's lips were what kept you breathing, as if you needed them to keep on living. You couldn't pull away. You didn't want to pull away. But unfortunately a knock on the door signaled that your time together was over. 

“You're more than welcome to come back anytime.” Bucky winked at you before disappearing behind the door, leaving you alone in the room. 

It took you a moment to collect your thoughts and calm your rapid breathing. Your heartbeat was still pounding in your ears, but you figured that would change when you had a chance to get some fresh air. Your legs almost gave out when you stood up, still weak in the knees after the spectacle you had witnessed. You felt a little silly having to take a moment to steady yourself. Bucky had gotten up and left without any trouble, and there you were, clinging to the back of the chair as you struggled to compose yourself so you could leave without your friends realizing the effect their dumb idea had really had on you. You were pathetic. 

Gathering your last bit of strength you pushed past the screaming women until you found your friends. They were back at their table, enjoying the routine of a tall, muscular blond who, from what you had heard, called himself Captain America. He was cute, but you couldn't stay in that place a second longer.

“How was it?” one of your friends asked with a smile.

“I need to get some air.”

“That good, huh?” Said the other with a giggle. You rolled your eyes, grabbing both of them by the arm and pulling them up from their seats. 

Amidst protests they agreed to leave with you and call it a night. As they made their way through the crowd they didn't miss the opportunity to flood you with questions, insisting that you give them details of what had happened and how it felt to have Bucky dance just for you. You refused to say anything, partly because you were embarrassed to admit the reality of what had happened, and partly because you still needed time to process the night. 

However, as you were about to leave, one of the waiters who had served your table - a young man who had introduced himself as Spider-Man - grabbed your arm. At first you thought maybe you had forgotten something in your seats and he was being kind enough to catch you before you left. But when you turned to look at him you noticed he had nothing in his hands but a rose and a piece of paper.

“He sends you this.” The boy said, handing you the items and disappearing into the crowd. 

He didn't have to tell you who they were from for you to know. A smile immediately graced your lips as you held the flower to your nose and inhaled. Then you turned your attention to the piece of paper and as you unfolded it you discovered that it was a note.

‘Happy birthday!

Call me ;)' 

It read, and at the end was written a phone number that was undoubtedly Bucky's. Your smile widened, which finally attracted the attention of your friends. One of them took the paper from you before you could hide it and when you saw the expression on her face you knew you weren't going to escape the interrogation. It was going to be a long night.

[precious-little-scoundrel]

Dear John || Pt.1

Masters of the Air Fanfiction

Requested: ☑️ My sweet Bri begged for a love-letter-centric Egan fic and with her wonderfully infectious ideas this was produced, the first part of many.

Summary: Major John Egan wasn’t the pen-pal sort but a couple of hours into a dark night full of writing condolence letters, he finds himself wondering why he never tried his hand at the nicer forms of correspondence. Who better to reanimate his numb inspiration than the glamorous Miss Lana Tierney? -the army’s girl next door, the pinup so prolific she was practically a wall paper print and Bucky’s long-standing cinematic crush. It’s not like she’ll read it anyways, tucked up in luxury in Beverly Hills with carts of tedious fanmail burned in her back yard each day, his letter will get lost in the mix. It’s harmless. That thought -and the booze- may loosen his pen a little too much but it’s alright, it’s not like she’ll read it. Right? Right.

It was specified in the request to use or create some of those old WWII dirty acronyms, so in here you have Bucky making up his own for his starlet crush (acorn). I’m ripping off a few ladies here, Lana Turner, Betty Grable, Hedy Lamarr to name a few -the moodbaord is for general aesthetics, I try to keep my fem!readers and oc’s as ambiguous physically as possible. (Besides the fact Johnny Egan finds you mouthwatering, which -be honest with yourself here sweet thing!!- he would.

Rating: 18+ this is the letter writing, vintage form of sexting. i kid you not, this man swings wildly from sweet as pie to downright filthy and vintage slang for anatomical parts is used freely. This would make a better shameful diary entry than a letter but he’s a rogue and he’s in a war, cut him some slack.

Fun game: how many times can Major Egan manage to mention Buck in a horny fan letter to his crush?

Dear A.C.O.R.N.

It is highly unlikely that you remember me, but, all the same, we have met. Now, hear me out, I’m sure fellas say that to you all the time but my point still stands and to match them I’ll do you one better, seeing as how I am not buttering you up for something in return -I have met you, yes, but I have also sung to you.

There. Said it.

Not that you’d recall that either, but then again maybe you would, but either way it doesn’t matter as the entire reason I am writing to you is because it is entirely unlikely you will ever open this god-awful endeavor made of pen and ink.

I am quite drunk, you see.

A necessary medicine. And they do make good whiskey here, one of the few joys they haven’t rationed yet. It’s got me wondering what’s your poison of choice. Something fruity? Or are you an olive sucker? Like that salt on the rim? Or maybe you go for somethin’ silky and warm goin’ down your throat? Which-ever it is, I bet you’d be a surprise, sweet ACORN, I just know it. You were a surprise at the canteen. Back in Jersey? Before shipping out? I know you were on a whole tour and kisses were goin’ for dollars but still, you were a surprise.

A lovely one, really. And that’s the point of this letter. To tell you that you're lovely and while I’m not the pen-pal sort, I’ve written home 80 letters tonight to families whose boys I was supposed to bring home. It got me thinking: Bucky, why the hell don’t you write nice letters? Whyd you only write ‘em now that you gotta? And it occurred to me then that the one silver lining in this whole Air Exec job is the desk, the lamp and the office.

I could write anybody from here. I could write you.

And you wouldn't read it so I could write anything. And it could be a nice letter. ‘Cause I don’t know anybody of yours to tell you anythin’ sad about them and you don’t know me except that I’m alive and drunk. Which is better than those poor eighty two bastards. Which reminds me, I’ve still got two more but maybe Buck will take those, he took seventeen off to his bunk to write from there. Buck doesn't have a desk because he’s not as important as me and he has all the luck.

You’ve met Buck, too, Acorn. He was the appalled pretty one with the straw colored hair pulling me off you after we had our duet. He objects to your nickname, see, even though you didn’t seem to mind. You were lovely, A.C.O.R.N. And I’d not wanna ruin this letter by telling you what it means, not now that I’m actually writing to you and determined to be nice but Buck knows and while he agrees with me as much as any man in the nation that you’ve got the most robust rack on the silver screen -he has objections, you see. So it wasn’t the song or the canoodling he didn’t like, and I still say, he broke up a little love affair that night. Bastard. So I’m writing to you now because as the acronym suggests, I’ve got a goal in my mind in regards to you. I tell myself -Bucky, there’s reasons to make it back.

Reasons, Bucky, reasons. Like Acorn and her halo of gorgeous hair that smelled like coconuts and the way she thought my new lyrics were pretty clever. That’s what you said, acorn, you said they were pretty clever. Now I may have been a little drunk then, too, but I think you might’ve been tipsy, that coke smelled too strong to be straight. I still have the straw you gave me, it’s bent to hell but I’ve taken it up each mission. I’m not counting on it for luck so much as a reminder of the aforementioned reasons. To come back. Your lipstick has mostly worn off but I figure it’s still the same.

You had your precious lips around it. That’s what matters.

And that’s the sorta sentence that makes Buck think I shouldn’t write letters.

But what he can’t accuse me of is being dishonest or vague. I’m being straight with you. You deserve that much, you were lovely and very straight shootin’ yourself, dear little girl. I could pinch your cheeks right now, you’re so sweet. And don’t think me a coward for sayin’ all this under assumption that you won’t read it. I hope you don’t since it’s not worth your time and if you do I wish I’d written less about me and more about you but I need you to know if we were face to face I’d say the same:

You were lovely, you ARE lovely!!!! and I think all your work for us boys is swell and you’ve got the bestest set of knockers any of us have ever seen and I’m stayin’ alive in hopes to see ‘em again some day and while the girls here are swell and sweet they aren’t zippy like you. At least not the ones who’ve put out so far. And if I had you face to face, I’d find a way to make you laugh again and I’d tell you to your face you’re lovely and if I’d been David Nivin in Love Trap with you, I’d have stayed in that little kitchen with you and ate all your burnt flapjacks and watched you in your apron and made babies with you till we were old.

Anyway. It needed saying. And maybe I’ll say it to your face given the chance again. I was working my way up to a proposition for burgers and milkshakes when Buck ruined it. But maybe you’ll tour? Here!! Over here. In England or maybe in Europe once we kick the Nazis bastards out.

Now that’s motivation. That’s a reason! -clear out a nice little swath of land through fortress europe so Miss Lana Tierney can sing in the city of lights surrounded by nothin’ but wine and good food and a buncha boys who love and appreciate her.

Because we do, ma’am. We do.

And make no mistake, I do this to keep the country safe and try to bring as many boys home as I can but every second I also think - it’s where you are too, and so I must continue keeping it safe.

If you, by some godawful chance, do read this letter, please don’t feel pressed to respond or pull out a restraining order. Think of it this way, it’d just be one more “Dear John” letter and the system is clogged as it is. You just deserve a nice letter and my wrist is past sore, one more doesn't matter. And being unable to deliver nice, I’ve written this.

~ I am ever your respectful (and hammered) admirer, Maj. John Egan

P.S. if you do happen to read this I’m sorry. Buck told me not to do this but I just had to Acorn. You’re just too swell and I really have got to get myself to a theater before long, I miss your Angel face.

Masterlist

Thank you for reading! This was entirely out of my usual comfort zone but I’ve had fun writing it and I’m trying to tune my ear to pick up his voice, that’s been stretching. This series will have many letters in it but there will also be fic, so fear not. I’ve got some plans already figured out for this series but I do love a suggestion or ten so have at the inbox with what you’d like to see play out.

Hope you enjoyed, if you’d like to be tagged in future MOTA fics, drop a note below.

[buckys-little-belle]

Henlo! If it's okay, could you make write a fic about Bucky comforting his little during a thunderstorm? A storm was near my house a few days ago and the thunder scared me so bad-- The power didn't go out, but storms usually happen a lot where I live-- thanks <3

Rainy Days

Bucky Barnes x Little!Reader (They/Them Pronouns used/No Pronouns used)

Warnings - Reader is scared of storms, reader eats snacks, talks of loud noises, talks of lightning/flashing lights, descriptions of a thunderstorm, ready is sad and scared, Bucky is sweet and thoughtful!

Notes - I made this headcannons, I hope that's okay! Honestly I've been going through my inbox and drafts and trying to clear them out, but writing full fics is something I have to be in the right mood for. But headcannons? I've been feeling headcannons lately, so do send some headcannon requests in if anyone has some! And please expect very old asks to suddenly resurface in the shape of fics/headcannons written literally years later <3

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW!

. ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ .

You've always been scared of thunderstorms. Rain is nice from time to time, but when the loud booms of thunder begin and lightning strikes, you suddenly begin to feel scared.

It's not rational, you know the thunder can't get you and that if you're inside you're safe from lightning. Yet when the storm begins to get louder and the rain begins to pelt harder, you find yourself curled up wherever you are, stuffie held safely to your chest.

Bucky could tell you'd get antsy whenever rain drops would begin racing on the windows, you'd stare outside seemingly waiting for something to happen.

After the first thunderstorm you two witnessed together Bucky knew he needed to be prepared for the next one. He hated seeing you cry, and how scared you got. He felt helpless and vowed to make sure that didn't happen again.

So now he has a small bin in his closet labeled "Rainy days". Inside are a pair of headphones he bought that block out any noises. It's made chatting between the two of you hard on those rainy days, you yelling because you can't tell just how loud you are, and him doing his best to charades his words. But because it rains so often, you two have had time to practice, and communication comes much easier.

He bought you little stickers to put on the headphones, so that instead of just plain boring black headphones, you have ones decorated by your favourite cartoon characters and fun little stickers of plants and dinosaurs.

He also has special activities for the two of you to do on those days. He wanted something different than the toys you have all the other days. This way you stop feeling dread thinking about thunderstorms, now that feeling is over taken with a subtle excitement for the special glitter crayons in the box, and the really cute stuffed animal named "Rainy" that you get to snuggle with.

Bucky always buys those PDF files on etsy that are colouring pages. For $2 he gets 6-10 fun pages, and he'll print them out for you on his fancy work printer. He finds it easier than buying colouring books because there's no risk of ripping your colouring when you evidently want to rip the page out and put it on the fridge. Plus he finds it over all cheaper, and there are no more tears when you don't like the way you coloured something, sad that you can't do that pretty picture anymore, he just prints out a second one.

Bucky is also a fan of physical media. He has both a DVD and a VCR player. So he has two movies stashed in the box that you really like for those rainy days, and those rainy days only. He doesn't know how, but you've been able to connect your headphones to the Tv, so you can't hear the thunder when you're watching them.

Also snuggles, rainy days mean as many snuggles as you want. Doesn't matter if he's on a work call, doing the laundry, or in the middle of making dinner. If you come up and ask for a hug you end up getting 20 minutes of snuggles and soothing back rubs.

You don't venture outside when it's a thunderstorm, but Bucky has been warming you up to "liking" rainy days by showing you how fun puddles can be.

He buys you a cute raincoat and matching boots, and as long as there's no thunder or lightning, he'll take you outside and splash in the puddles for an hour.

Instead of being terrified of thunderstorms, and hating the days they happen, you've slowly been able to accept that they'll happen sometimes, and you've grown to know your safe, very safe because Bucky is always at your side on those days. Ready to comfort you, ready to play whatever game you want, and ready to jump in puddles when possible.

[late-to-the-party-81]

Red Carpet Ready

AN: So when all the pictures and gifs from the Berlinale festival started to come out over the last week a lot of the folk on the BBE server went, shall we say, feral. When this particular gif appeared, @mrs-illyrian-baby, @buckyismybicycle and I started to have thots. Thots about a cool, calm collected movie star Bucky leaving a very wrung out reader melted in the back of the limo as he strode out onto the red carpet. And this was born.

Not beta’d.

Likes are loved, reblogs are golden.

Mood board by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

Master list 

Summary: You love your job as Bucky’s PA. You love him even more, even if he doesn’t know it. On your way to an awards ceremony he appears more nervous than usual and thanks to a traffic jam you find the best way to get him out of his head.

Relationship: Movie Star Bucky Barnes x PA Fem Reader

Word count: 3k

CW: AU - Modern Day, Anxious Bucky, Pining, Power Imbalance, Explicit Sexual Content (Oral - M receiving, Vaginal fingering), Bucky’s A+ Dirty Talk, Implied future spicy time, effectively PWP.

You lurched in your seat as the limo braked. Luckily it hadn’t been going fast, but it was enough to fracture your concentration. You looked up from your checklist towards the other occupant of the back seat, your boss, the famous movie-star Bucky Barnes.

You’d been his PA for several years now, acting as a go-between him and his manager, getting him booked into hotels under pseudonyms, liaising with his media team and his stylist, fetching coffees and a hundred and one other things. Luckily, he was a lovely man to work for, polite and respectful, but, unfortunately for you, he was absolutely drop-dead gorgeous. You remembered when you first got the job - you’d spent most of your days refusing to actually speak unless necessary, lest you embarrass yourself by letting slip your not safe for work inner thoughts. However, as time had passed you’d not only relaxed, but also been able to get to know the man behind the mask, meaning that you and Bucky now had an easy friendship. It was based on mutual respect and shared memories, and you treasured it intensely. Your friends wondered why you stayed in a job that left you with no real base, flitting around the world for shoots, premieres and interviews. You told them that it suited you. You didn’t tell them that it was because you were in love with your employer.

Bucky looked nervous and ran his hands through his shaggy hair. He didn’t often wear it that long, but he was growing it out for a part, more willing to do that than have to put up with a stifling wig on top of what was bound to be an equally stifling costume. His left knee jiggled,  letting you know his anxiety was on the rise. 

Tonight he was attending an awards ceremony, one in which he’d been nominated for the Best Actor category. That in itself wasn’t that strange, he’d been nominated several times over the last few years, but this time was different, this time there was a high chance he would actually win. Such a thing was utterly deserved in your biassed opinion, but Bucky had been the runner-up so many times before and his nerves were starting to get the better of him. 

Realising you’d been staring at him for too long, you looked back down at your checklist and cleared your throat.

“You’re being seated next to Yelena, as she’s your co-star in the next movie, so at least you’ll be with someone you know.”

Bucky grunted and turned his head to look out of the tinted windows as the lights of L.A. moved passed at a much slower pace than you would have liked. The traffic was to be expected really, the great and good of Hollywood, plus all their fans, out in force for tonight’s event. It would have been more surprising if the roads hadn’t been blocked.

With a sigh you put down your clipboard and reached out to place your hand on Bucky’s knee to grab his attention.

“You’ll be fine, you know,” you soothed. “You’ve got your acceptance speech in your jacket pocket still, haven’t you?” You watched as he patted his hand against his chest, checking for the folded paper housed in the inside pocket of his black jacket and gave you a small nod in confirmation. He wore a navy blue shirt under the black suit and had foregone a tie. In your opinion - and you had a lot of those about Bucky - he looked stunning. 

He was also uncharacteristically quiet.

You wracked your brains, trying to think of a way to get him out of his head. From the corner of your eye you saw him push his finger down the collar of his shirt and give it a tug. You clucked your tongue and rolled your eyes and leant forward in your seat, both hands outstretched towards the offending fabric.

“Let’s just undo that for a moment. We’ve got time, and you’ve got me here to make sure you look presentable.”

He chuckled at that, and your heart soared. Your fingers made quick work of the top two buttons of his shirt and Bucky let out a deep sigh in appreciation.

“Thanks, Doll. Don’t know what I’d do without you.” His voice was rough from staying quiet for so long, his vocal cords stiff.

Your lips turned up at the edges. “I’m sure you would have thought of it yourself, or found another way to get rid of your nerves.”

His eyes, stormy grey-blue, flicked up to yours just then, the intensity of his gaze pinning you in place. There was a feeling, nebulous and just out of reach, that you could almost identify brewing between you. Moments like this had occurred a handful of times over the last few months, coinciding with Bucky getting over his last heartbreak. His previous girlfriend had been… alright - it wasn’t any of your business of course and you definitely hadn’t stalked her socials whatsoever - but it hadn’t surprised you when they’d called it a day.  However, once he’d started to get back on level footing, you’d noticed him watching you more, and you weren’t sure how you felt about that.

First of all, you couldn’t be sure that you weren’t actually imagining it. You’d been in love with him for so long it wouldn’t surprise you if your brain had started to make you hallucinate.

Secondly, even if Bucky was watching you more, it didn’t necessarily mean anything. Maybe he was just making sure you were alright and weren’t being harassed by any of the pricks that tended to inhabit the movie scene. 

However, if it was what your brain was telling you it was, where did that leave you? He was your boss - okay, technically his manager was, but po-tay-to, po-ta-to - and a famous movie star to boot. It was a recipe for disaster if ever there was one, even if your heart, and other parts of you, were begging for it.

“Hmm,” Bucky pondered, amusement peppering his voice. “Other ways to destress. I wonder what you could mean, Doll.”  

You giggled at his unsubtle innuendo and playfully smacked his arm. “Behave, Mr Barnes!”

He laughed back and rolled his eyes. “Now I’m in trouble. You brought out the big guns. Making me turn around and look for my father.”

You continued to laugh, but suddenly the limo breaked again, much harder than last time, and you practically flew out of your front facing seat to land on your knees on the carpeted floor.

“Shit!” Bucky exclaimed, and his hands clamped around the tops of your arms, steadying you. “Are you okay?”

You shook your head to clear it and looked up, ready to confirm that you were, when your mouth went dry. Bucky loomed over you and his thick thighs bracketed you where you were kneeling on the floor of the limo between his legs. In the space of a breath his eyes, his expression morphed from one of concern to something darker, and more primal. When you heard him mutter “Fuck” under his breath, you knew that your brain had not been deceiving you over the past months. 

Bucky wanted you.

And although your mouth was still dry, your panties were having the opposite problem.

His gaze, dark and dangerous, pinned you in place, like a butterfly on a collectors board. You made no attempt to get up - you didn’t think you’d be able to even if you did want to - and that decision told Bucky everything he needed to know. Gone was the nervous wreck of a few minutes ago and in his place was a lust filled, domineering man. A hunter with his prey in sight.

He let go of you with his left hand and trailed his knuckles down your cheek. You couldn’t help it when your eyes fluttered closed at the sensation.

“I think I’m still a bit stressed, Doll. You got any ideas on how you can personally assist me with that?”

You nodded and swallowed thickly, your hands coming up to grip his suit clad thighs. You felt them tense under your grip and images of you straddling one, rubbing your slick core against the toned muscle filled your head, making your moan. He let out a deep chuckle that vibrated through his whole body.

“I’d love to know what images you’ve conjured in your head, sweetheart, and maybe I’ll persuade you to tell me later on, but we don’t have much time.” He popped open the four buttons on his jacket, revealing to you the tenting in his suit pants. 

You shouldn’t be doing this, but you couldn’t stop yourself. You knew what was in there. Had been on set with him enough times in various states of dress and undress - even though you always tried to avert your eyes - to be fairly well informed, but this was the closest you’d ever been. Like a moth to a flame, your hands slid up his legs until they were gripping his hips. You looked up at him again, and he just stared back, expectantly. 

Fuck. You’d never been so turned on in your life, and he hadn’t even touched you. 

Carefully you unbuckled his belt, but your hands still brushed over his clothed erection which twitched under your accidental touch. You pulled down his zipper and Bucky shifted himself so that you could peel his pants part way down his thighs.

There was a dark, damp spot on his grey boxer briefs and they clung to his body, outlining the shape and size of him. You licked your lips without thinking, and drew the lower one in between your teeth.

Were you really about to suck Bucky’s cock in the back of the limo? You were glad that the privacy screen had gone up straight away, to give you time to get Bucky ready for the red carpet, although the you of twenty minutes ago had in no way envisioned this scenario ever happening outside of your private imaginings.

Bucky took hold of your right hand and laid it over his bulge and you couldn’t help but give him a gentle squeeze through his briefs. He inhaled sharply through his nose and his eyes fluttered briefly, before they were back on you, somehow darker than before. You felt emboldened, the fact you held power over his desire making you dizzy, and you let go of him so you could pull down the waistband of his underwear and get your first, up close look at Bucky’s cock.

For a moment you were worried your arousal would spill over your panties and leave a wet spot on the carpet between your knees as you took him in with your gaze. He was everything you’d ever imagined from your brief glances and you barely hesitated before you wrapped your hand around the firm warmth of him and took his tip between your lips. 

You were aware of several things at once - the clean, musky scent and taste of him, as well as the salacious noise that left his lips at your first, tentative caress. You also heard a thud and cast your eyes upwards to see that Bucky had let his head fall back against the privacy screen. You should have been worried about what the driver may be thinking, but in reality, you didn’t care. All that mattered was Bucky.

You explored him with your fingers, lips and tongue, revelling in the groans, grunts and whispered mumblings that fell from his lips. His right hand still held your upper arm, but his left came up to gently cup the back of your head, not forcing you down, but just adding another connection between the two of you.

You bobbed your head and took him as deep as you could, your throat swallowing around his length until spots appeared in front of your eyes and you had to draw back.

“Jeez, Doll. Fuck! How did I not see what was right under my nose for all those years? Coulda been doing this sooner. Coulda had you writhing in my bed, creaming on me like you’re probably creaming those panties of yours right now.”

You hummed your agreement and tongued his slit, before tracing down his frenulum and around the underside of his head.

“Whatever happens this evening, you’re mine tonight. Gonna treat you right, Doll. Gonna fuck you until you don’t know your own name any more, only mine. And if I win? Shit. Might need an extra day and night in the hotel. God. I’m close, sweetheart. You gonna swallow it all? Can’t spill a drop on my suit. Can’t have me go out there with cum on my pants.”

You swallowed him down deep again, flattening your tongue against the ridgid length of him, and reached down with your hand to massage his tightening balls. Bucky’s hips started to jerk, so taken over by his desires that he was unable to hold back from fucking your mouth, at least a little bit.

“That’s it. Take it. Take it. Such a good girl. Every drop. Every. Fucking. Drop.” He came with a guttural groan, his cum filling your mouth as you struggled to swallow it. Even when his orgasm finally stopped, you continued to lick and kiss his cock as it softened, intending to clean it as best you could. In the end, Bucky had to ease you away, and you realised you were probably overstimulating him. He didn’t leave you disappointed for long, though. Easily manhandling you back onto your seat, it was then his turn to kneel in front of you.

“Fucking perfect, sweetheart.” His hands skimmed up your thighs, sliding under your, entirely sensible, black shift dress. The thumb of his right hand brushed over the front of your panties and your throbbing clit, making you whine and twitch.

“You are soaked,” he drawled. “Good fucking girl.”

Bucky leaned into your space and his lips captured yours in a searing kiss, his tongue demanding immediate entry and no-doubt tasting himself as he did so. At the same time, the fingers of his right hand slipped under your panties, and slid through your sodden folds. His kiss swallowed your cries as he toyed with your clit, the sensation almost bordering on too much. 

Then he slid a finger inside you.

You felt Bucky smile into the kiss at your reaction, your pussy clenching down on his intrusion.

“Such a greedy pussy,” he muttered before adding a second. “I got you, Doll. Can’t wait to get my cock in you.”

Your only response was another moan and another clench around his invading digits. When he changed the angle of his fingers, you ripped your lips from his as you threw your head back.

“There it is. Look at me, sweetheart. Want you to look at me when you come.” Bucky’s voice was deep and commanding and you wouldn’t have been able to disobey him, even if you’d had the presence of mind to do so. You meet his gaze from under heavy lids as his fingers and thumb continued to drive you upwards assisted by Bucky’s voice which only ever spoken to you like this in your deepest fantasies.

“That’s it, Doll. Need you to come for me. Need to know how hard you’re gonna strangle my cock later. Need to know how beautiful you look when you come. Gonna be smelling your pussy on my fingers all evening. Hell, if I win I’ll hold that statue with this hand and get you all over it. Fuck! Do it now, sweetheart. Come now.”

Your whole body spasmed as you came, your hands gripping Bucky’s right forearm to hold him still. Up was down and down was up as the world span before your eyes at the intensity of your orgasm. Eventually though, reality had to set back in and Bucky pulled his hand from the clutch of your body.

“Bucky!” You keened, your body still sensitive, but protesting at emptiness nonetheless.

“Later, Doll,” he placated at your disappointed whine. “I meant it. This isn’t over by a long shot. I’ll see you after the ceremony. I’m ready for that red carpet now and it’s all thanks to you.” He sucked on his fingers, grinning as he did so then leaned forward and dropped a soft, almost chaste kiss to your lips.

You blinked owlishly at him, your brain still trying to process what had just happened while you clit pulsed between your folds. Bucky smiled, pulling your dress down before putting his own clothes to rights, including the top buttons of his shirt. The limo jerked to a halt a few moments later, but this time it wasn’t due to a traffic jam, but because it had pulled up right by the venue.

With a much more relaxed demeanor that when the limo had set off, Bucky alighted when the driver opened his door. It wasn’t until you watched back the footage, much later in his hotel room, that you could see that Bucky was re-buttoning his jacket as he walked up the red-carpet, a smug look plastered onto his face. Most people thought the expression was related to his nomination, but you knew better.

What you did agree with the general public on though, was the delight on Bucky’s face when his name was read out as the winner of the leading actor category. You were watching from the sides, having ridden in the limo around to the back of the venue, having used the few extra minutes to put your scrambled brain back together. You stood with the other PAs, managers and media secretaries of the main nominees, all of you with your fingers crossed. 

But while everyone else in the hall whistled and cheered when Bucky made his way to the stage for his acceptance speech, you were on your phone, quickly altering his hotel booking to include an extra night. He had promised after all.

Tag list: @christywrites, @alexakeyloveloki, @wolfsmom1, @doasyoudesireandlive, @sonatabee-blog, @goldylions, @galactusdevourerofworlds, @apenny4thots, @crayongirl-linz, @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989

[buckyispunk]

Falling

Aloha Chapter Three~ Bucky Barnes x f!Reader (no use of Y/N)

read previous parts here!

masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (no use of Y/N)

Summary: The events of Ocean Blue from Bucky's perspective, aka Bucky fights to win you back.

A/N: So so soooo sorry for the longer-than-expected wait everyone! Thank you to all who have been sticking it out with me! I hope this chapter makes up for it! Also - discontinuing tags after this chapter, follow @buckyispunkwrites and turn on notifs!!

Warnings: oral sex (f receiving), fingering, discussion of unhealthy relationships, slight overstimulation, dom!Bucky, drinking, insecure reader, please lmk if I missed anything

Word Count: 4.6k

“Dude,” Sam shoves Bucky’s shoulder, “I’m sure she’ll be out soon, you don’t have to keep staring at the door.”

Bucky reverts his attention to his friends, who are now laughing at his infatuated state. He debates for a second whether or not it’s worth it to think of a clever comeback, but he can’t bring himself to care enough. All Bucky cares about is when he’ll next be able to hear your laugh and watch the way your eyes sparkle in the sunlight. All he cares about right now is being with you. 

And that scares Bucky. Absolutely terrifies him. The last time Bucky felt this way about someone, she betrayed every ounce of trust he ever put in her and Bucky had wound up wishing he never even met her in the first place. But even though he’s only known you a few days, something tells Bucky you’re nothing like his ex. 

All he manages is a mumbled shut up. 

He turns from his friends to go order another round, noting that Sam and Steve’s bottles are almost empty as well. As he leans against the bar waiting for the bartender, he feels a tap on his shoulder.

Bucky grins as he turns around. 

“Been waiting for you, do-”

He cuts himself off when he realizes it’s not you he’s talking to, but some blonde woman he doesn’t recognize. 

“Sorry,” he shakes his head, “thought you were someone else,” he explains, smile disappearing from his face. 

“No worries,” she flases her white teeth at him, “I actually think your friend over there is kinda cute. The one that hasn’t stopped laughing for the last five minutes.”

Bucky sighs, relieved that the woman isn’t hitting on him. He’s never been great at rejecting people. 

“Sam’s definitely something,” Bucky tilts his head in amusement.

“I was gonna buy him a drink, what does he like? Couldn’t see his bottle from where I’m sitting.”

“I was just ordering us another round, I’ll just give you his.”

Bucky turns back to the bartender and orders three beers for him and his friends.

“Thanks. Now let’s just hope he doesn’t fall out of his chair again when I give it to him.”

Bucky laughs as he remembers when, a few minutes ago, Sam had fallen to the ground laughing at Steve’s insistence that the Giants are super bowl bound this year. In that moment, as he listened to Sam’s hysterical laughter and Steve’s continued argument, he found himself wondering whether you’d be laughing along with Sam or if you were a die-hard Giants fan, like Steve. 

He’s realized there’s so many things he doesn’t know about you: your favorite kind of flower, how you spend your time on rainy Sundays, where you grew up, whether you eat pumpkin or apple pie on Thanksgiving. And this realization has sparked an endless curiosity in Bucky. He has a sudden urge to ask you every possible question he can think of and then memorize each and every answer you tell him until he’s familiarized himself with every nook and cranny of your beautiful mind. 

The bartender sets the drinks on the bar, snapping Bucky out of his trance. 

“Have at it,” Bucky hands the woman the beer and she heads toward their seats. 

Sam and Steve usually have no trouble finding women wherever the three of them go. Occasionally Bucky would get hit on at the bar or at a ball game, usually only indulging them for a minute or two before escaping to the bathroom. He had gone on a few dates over the years, but those only discouraged him.

One time his date had gotten so drunk that Bucky had to practically carry her to her door, where she then invited Bucky inside with clear intentions - an offer which Bucky had politely declined, of course. The girl after that had looked up from her phone no more than five times throughout the night, making halfhearted conversation as she scrolled through social media before thanking Bucky for dinner and ordering an Uber home. Needless to say, Bucky hasn’t had the best dating experiences since he’s been stateside. 

Sam, on the otherhand, has a whole folder on his phone filled with different dating apps - Kinder? Tumble? - he doesn’t remember what they’re called. For the life of him, Bucky can’t understand the appeal of swiping through woman after woman and judging them based off of a couple of pictures. Cliches be damned, he needs the butterflies in his stomach that he can’t seem to get rid of when he looks into a girl’s eyes for the first time, testing her name out on his lips, the involuntary grin on his face after making her blush, the excitement of trying to earn her phone number so he can ask her out. He wants a Hallmark-esque story to tell about how he met his future wife. 

At that, Bucky’s thoughts reflexively drift back to you and he turns to eye the door again. Seeing no sign of you, he lets out a sigh and heads back toward his friends. He sees the woman all but clinging onto Sam, who doesn’t mind one bit - if the grin on his face is anything to go by. Bucky hands Steve his beer and sits, passing the time discussing football with Steve. 

Another twenty or so minutes go by before Bucky gets sick of watching Sam not-so-discreetly exchange dirty talk with the woman. Bucky finishes his beer and stands up to leave once Steve heads to the bathroom. Sam doesn’t see Bucky walk away - his tongue is too deep into the woman’s mouth for him to notice anything else. 

Bucky heads toward the hotel, beginning to get worried about you. He gets into the elevator and presses the 5. Bucky doesn’t even notice the way he nervously taps his foot as the elevator climbs to your floor. He makes his way to your room and raises his hand, rapping his knuckles against the thick wood.

No answer.

He waits a few seconds before knocking again, harder.

Bucky feels his heart rate pick up ever so slightly when he calls your name and still doesn’t hear a response. He pulls his phone out of his pocket to call you and stops suddenly, cursing himself under his breath.

He’d never even gotten your phone number. 

Fuck.

He slips his phone back into his pocket and his fingers brush aroom key. Your room key.

You had given him your room key earlier. 

“Are you in there, doll? If you want me to go away then just say so. Promise I won’t be upset, sweetheart, just wanna make sure you’re okay.”

He knocks one last time and pulls the key card out to unlock the door. 

“I’m coming in, doll.”

He cautiously steps into your room, calling out your name again. He does a quick scan of the bedroom and the bathroom before concluding that you’re not there. 

As he heads back down to the lobby, he realizes he’s more frantic than he has any right to be. You’re not his to worry about. You’re not his to take care of. You’re not his. But he can figure that out later. Right now, he needs to make sure you’re okay. 

He walks through the lobby and the gift shop racking his brain for anything he could have done to upset you. You seemed understanding when he left you in your room. Maybe you felt rejected when he declined your offer to shower with you? If only you’d known how hard it was for him to say no to you, how his self-control almost hadn’t been strong enough. 

He rounds the corner to the hotel bar and instantly feels a weight lift off of his shoulders when he sees you sitting at the bar, wearing the Hawiian shirt that mirrors his own. Bucky makes his way across the room in quick strides.

“Hey, sweetheart. Are you okay?” He places his hand on your shoulder and you turn to look at him. 

Any relief Bucky had felt just moments ago is gone as soon as he notices your tear-streaked face and watery eyes. He instantly reaches a gentle hand out to cup your face, which you promptly smack away.

Bucky raises his hands in the air, wanting to show that he isn’t a threat. A distressed and confused expression makes its way across Bucky’s face as his mind begins to race. He immediatley searches his memory again for what he could have done to upset you.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, ready to come up with a solution; ready to console you; ready to do everything in his power to take your pain away. This is the first time Bucky’s seen you this upset, and in this moment he decides he’ll do his damndest to make sure he never sees you this upset again. 

“Fuck off, Barnes,” you scoff, turning back towards the bar and downing the last of your drink.

Bucky stands with a dumbfounded look on his face, hands frozen in the air. Determined to make sure you’re okay, Bucky takes a seat next to you while you order another drink. 

“Doll, what happened?” 

Bucky feels as if his heart is about to pound out of his chest. It’s physically hurting him to see you like this, and it hurts him even more knowing that, based off your hostility towards him, it might be his fault. 

“Did I do something, sweetheart?”

You turn to Bucky, eyes lit with what Bucky can only describe as rage. 

“I don’t know, maybe you should ask that girl you were buying a drink for at the bar,” you scoff, an incredulous smirk on your face as the bartender places a fresh drink in front of you.

Bucky feels his whole body go tense at your words. His eyes close as he sucks in a strained breath, realizing how it must have looked if you had seen the interaction from afar. 

“Please, let me explain. It wasn’t what it looked like, I promise.” 

“Yeah right, James. Was that not you buying a drink for a fucking supermodel out there? Maybe it was your doppelganger out there that was laughing with her? I’m sure you weren’t trying to get in her pants. I’m sure it couldn’t have been the fact that there’s a hundred better-looking, more interesting women at this resort right now. I’m sure it wasn’t that you got what you wanted from me an-”

“Enough,” Bucky’s stern tone cuts you off. 

He looks around and sees the attention your little spat has drawn. He softly says your name, ocean blue eyes boring into your own, pleading. 

“Please, doll, let’s talk. Can we get out of here?”

He watches you contemplate for a moment before responding. Bucky’s eyes may have softened your resolution because you give in.

“Fine. I’ll hear you out, but that’s all I’m promising.”

“Of course,” Bucky nods enthusiastically as he stands from his chair, “if you still want nothing to do with me after I explain myself then I won’t bother you anymore. Swear.”

Bucky watches as you attempt to hop down from your barstool in your drunken state. You barely land on your feet, stumbling forward. Bucky reaches out instinctively, wrapping his hands around your forearms before you land face first on the hard floor. 

“Careful, honey.”

You remove your arms from his grasp and head towards the lobby, Bucky following behind you. Bucky stops you with a light hand on your shoulder in front of the gift shop.

“Hey can you wait right here for a second?”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now, James?”

Bucky tries to ignore the twinge of pain he feels as you call him by his first name again. 

“Please, just trust me. I’ll be back in one minute, just sit right here.”

He directs you to a couch before going into the hotel’s little store. Bucky tries to calm himself down as he walkes toward the little fridge and grabs a bottle of water. He struggles to wrap his head around that fact that the two of you went from playing football and scuba diving earlier today to him having to beg to talk to you. 

He tries his best to be polite when the cashier asks him about his night, meanwhile he can’t shake the image of your devastated eyes at the bar. He couldn’t let you go on thinking he’d do that to you. Couldn’t let you go on thinking that he would use you and throw you aside like that. 

After he pays, he grabs the water bottle and thanks his lucky stars when you’re still sitting where he left you.

“Drink this please, doll.” He extends the water bottle.

He’s expecting you to put up a fight, but to his surprise, you snatch the bottle from him and down half of it in one go.

“Good girl.”

Bucky doesn’t notice the effect his words have on you, even in your outraged state. 

“Let’s go outside.”

Bucky’s hand hovers over your lower back as you walk, ready to reach out and steady you in case you stumble. Bucky guides you to the beach, almost empty at this hour. When you’re far enough away from the few people scattered around, Bucky plops down onto the sand and reaches a hand up to help you down next to him. 

After you sit, Bucky keeps a lose grip on your hand. When you don’t make any attempts to pull it away, he tightens his grip and pulls your joint hands to rest on his thigh.

Bucky takes a deep breath before beginning. 

“After I left you in your room, I went down to meet Sam and Steve at the bar. At one point, I got up to get everyone another round of drinks. That’s when that woman approached me. I was afraid she was going to hit on me at first, and if she had, believe me, I would have turned her down.”

“She wasn’t hitting on you?”

“No, sweetheart, she told me she thought Sam was cute. She wanted to buy him a drink and didn’t know what to get him, so I just gave her the beer I had bought for Sam and let her give it to him. She took the beer over and was sitting with Sam when I got back. For the most part, her and Sam were talking and kissing while me and Steve tried our best to ignore them. Eventually, Steve got up to go to the bathroom and I came to look for you because I had no desire to be around them any longer and I was worried about you.”

“Oh. So you and her weren’t flirting? You didn’t buy the drink for her?”

“‘course not doll.”

“Shit, I’m sorry, Buck.”

Bucky feels the tension seep out of his bones when you call him ‘Buck’ instead of ‘James’. 

“Don’t be, doll. I’m sorry for how that looked. And even more, I’m sorry that you thought I’d ever do that to you. I would never use you like that then just move on to another girl like it never happened. Besides, I haven’t even begun to get I want from you, honey.” 

“Huh?”

“Earlier you said I’d  just taken what I wanted from you. That’s not true.”

Bucky won’t have everything he wants from you until you know that being able to spend these last few days with you has made him feel like the luckiest man alive. Until he’s convinced you that you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever met. Until he’s able to help you overcome all those unwarranted insecurities stupid fucking Brock put in your head. Until you’re his. 

Bucky’s afraid to say all of this out loud, both because he doesn’t want to scare you off and because he’s not ready to admit to himself how quickly and deeply he fell for you. So instead, he brings your hand up to his mouth and presses a kiss to it. 

Almost as if you understand, you don’t press the topic, just let out a little sigh at the feeling of Bucky’s soft lips on your skin. 

“I really am sorry though, Buck. I overreacted. I guess I just thought you got bored of me and decided to leave, like Brock. Besides, it’s not like we’re exclusive. I mean we hardly know each other, it’s not my place to tell you what you can or can’t do with other women.”

“Doll, I wouldn’t waste time with other women when we’ve only got a few more days here. I’d spend every second of my time left here with you if I could,” Bucky rubs his thumb along your hand, hoping that you believe him. “Listen closely. I understand why you got upset. It looked bad. Also, Brock is quite possibly the dumbest man on the planet for having someone as fucking perfect as you and ‘getting bored’. I don’t know how you put up with that undeserving piece of shit for so long. You deserve to be fucking worshipped, don’t ever settle for anything less.”

“Thank you, Bucky,” he doesn’t miss the way your eyes start to water again at his words.

“Promise me, doll.”

“Promise what?”

“Promise me that you’ll never settle for anything less.”

Though the thought of you being with anyone else at all pains Bucky - he knows it shouldn’t -, he needs to know that no matter who you end up with after you leave Hawaii, you’re being treated right. 

You hesitate for only a moment before responding.

“I promise, Buck.”

“So,” Bucky braces himself, “are we okay? If you want nothing to do with me, like I said before, I’ll leave you alone.”

“Yeah, Bucky” your lips curl into a gentle smile, “we’re okay.”

Bucky lets out a sigh of relief when you scoot yourself closer to him and lean against his shoulder. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you tight, pressing a kiss to your head. 

“Good. Now drink the rest of your water, sweetheart.”

Bucky uncaps the bottle and hands it to you. You sip on the water and Bucky feels at peace for the first time in hours, with you in his arms and the waves crashing onto the sand in front of him. He could stay here forever, he thinks. It’d give him plenty of time to ask you all those questions. Before he can get the chance, though, he feels you shiver. 

“Shit, honey, are you cold?”

Bucky had been too preoccupied thinking to notice the breeze blowing against the two of you. 

“Let’s go back,” he doesn’t wait for an answer from you before standing and helping you to your feet. 

As soon as you stand, you interlace Bucky’s fingers with your own and the two of you make your way back to the hotel. You seem to be walking a lot more steady now, the bottle of water and time spent on the beach having sobered you up.

Bucky fills the walk back with apologies for hurting you and you reply with your own apologies for jumping to conclusions. By the time the two of you reach your floor, you agree to leave the events of the night behind you and move on.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” Bucky questions, getting ready to say goodnight and turn toward his room.

Your response surprises Bucky.

“Do you want to come back to my room?” you smirk at Bucky and begin to run your hand up his forearm.

“Are you sure, doll? We don’t need to do anything.”

After everything that’s happened today, the last thing Bucky wants to do is make you feel like you’re being used. He needs you to know he’s spending time with you for the right reasons. 

“I want to if you do, Buck.”

“Okay, but only if you’re certain.”

Bucky wouldn’t even be considering it if he didn’t think all the alcohol had worn off, but he hasn’t seen any signs of intoxication since the walk to the beach.

“You made me a promise in the dressing room.”

Bucky’s eyes darken as he recalls you getting on your knees for him in the hotel gift shop earlier. 

“I did, didn’t I?” 

Bucky leads the two of you to your room and unlocks it with the key card he still has. 

“Can’t leave me hanging, Bucky.”

He’s sure you’re more than ready for some attention after he had edged you.

“You’re right about that baby.” he opens the door and walks in behind you.

Bucky can tell by the way you stand awkwardly in front of the bed, you’re waiting for him to give you an order. The realization makes his dick jump in his boxers. He typically prefered to be dominant in bed, and he’s grateful for the way you seem so eager to submit and let him take the reigns. 

“Listen, doll, tonight is all about you. You were so good for me today. You did perfect and you earned your reward.”

Even if he didn’t actually do anything wrong, Bucky can’t help but feel responsible for the tears you shed today. He wants to rid the image of your watery eyes staring at him with hate from his mind and replace it with one of your face scrunched up in pleasure as you scream him name. 

He needs to make it up to you. 

Bucky pulls his shirt over his head as he stalks toward you, throwing it on the floor. 

“Take your clothes off and get on the bed.”

Bucky does nothing to hide the ravenous look in his eyes as he watches you undress, he just palms his rapidly growing erection. He lets out a low curse when you expose your breasts to him. You remove your shorts, then look up to Bucky with a questioning look as you thumb the waistband of your panties.

“All of it, doll.”

You pull the fabric down your legs and lay back on the bed, waiting for Bucky’s next move. 

Bucky allows himself to revel in this moment only for a second - you spread naked on the bed, waiting for him with desperate,  pleading eyes - before he reminds himself that he’s supposed to be making it up to you right now.

Bucky stands by the edge of the bed and grabs your ankles. He drags your body down the bed with ease until your hips are on the end of the bed, legs hanging over the side. Bucky kneels down onto the floor, face level with your center.

Bucky is only slightly shocked at how wet your core is. He can’t help the groan that escapes him as he watches your slick pool out. 

“Fuck, doll. You’re killing me here.”

You buck your hips up into the air seeking any sort of relief and Bucky throws your legs around his shoulders. He doesn’t even give you a chance to beg, he dives right in. He laps up the wetness that has escaped from your pussy before suckling your clit into his mouth and tonguing it. 

You let out a shriek and it only spurs Bucky on. 

He alternates between fucking his tongue into you and suctioning your clit between his full, pink lips. 

“Fu- Bucky! I’m cl- oh god- I’m close!” Bucky thinks that he could spend the rest of his life down here, on his knees for you, if you continue making sounds like that. 

He grips your thighs around his head, fingers almost bruising. He rapidly flicks his tongue over your clit and you come with a moan that Bucky thinks may be the second-best thing he’s ever heard - number one being your laugh, of course. 

Bucky returns to your hole to drink up all of your release. He listens to your gasps as you ride out your high, hips bucking into his face. 

“Okay, Buck, it’s- fuck- it’s too much, baby,” you try to pry your legs open around his head but his grip is unrelenting.

Bucky lifts his mouth off of you just long enough to say, “Not yet, honey. I want one more,” before he reattatches his mouth to your sensitive bundle of nerves.

He meant it when he said he could stay down here forever. He pays no mind to his stiff knees - sore from the hard floor, or the wet spot formed on his boxers from his leaking dick. He wants you to forget about all the pain you felt today, wants to eat you out until all you know is pleasure, until the only word your mouth is able to form is his name. 

“Holy fu-ahh,” you grab the comforter beneath you for dear life.

“You can do it, doll. Don’t you wanna be a good girl for me?”

Bucky brings a hand up inbetween your legs and slips two fingers into your soaked pussy with no resistence. 

“So fucking soaked baby. This little pussy really was desperate for me, huh?”

He curls his fingers until he feels that spongy spot inside you and continues brushing up against it when he hears your moans. 

“Yes, Bucky! Right there, please!”

“No need, to beg tonight doll. I know exactly what you want and I’m gonna give it to you.”

Bucky sucks your mouth into his clit and ever so gently scrapes it with his teeth, eliciting a borderline pornographic moan of his name from you. He continues curling his fingers and focusing his mouth on your clit.

You don’t give him a verbal warning, but Bucky knows you’re about to come undone again by your breathing and the way you’re squeezing his fingers so tight he’s afraid you’ll push them out. He eats you through it, fucking you on his digits as you moan and gasp for breath. 

He pulls his hand from your core and fucks you with his tongue until you start to whine from overstimulation and only then does he pull away, rising to his feet. 

“Did so fucking perfect for me, baby,” he praises, “I’ll be right back, promise.”

He bends down and places a kiss on your damp forehead, and heads for the bathroom. Bucky is reminded of his hard-on when his zipper presses against it rather uncomfortably. He shucks off his pants and shoes on the way to the bathroom. 

He grabs a washcloth and dampens it in the sink with warm water, and returns to you in his boxers. He gets back down onto his knees and spreads your legs. He drags the warm cloth through your folds, cleaning up the mixture of his spit and your arousal. Once he’s done the best he can, careful to avoid your oversensitive clit, he presses a kiss to the top of your mound. 

He stands and throws the washcloth into the pile with the rest of the dirty clothes. 

“Tired, doll?” Bucky fights back a laugh at the way your eyelids droop, struggling to stay open. 

“No, Buck, lemme take care of you,” he sees your eyes drop to his boxers.

“Not a chance, honey. Told you tonight was all about you. Time for bed,” he smiles fondly at your attempt to take care of him.

You put up a brief fight, but Bucky manages to get you under the covers and climbs in next to you. You immediately curl into his chest when he’s beside you and Bucky’s thankful you can’t see the grin on his face. 

He brings a hand to your hair and smoothes it down. 

“Goodnight, angel.”

The only response Bucky gets from you is the light sound of your breaths, hot against his chest. 

Once he’s positive you’re asleep, he allows himself to admit out loud, “I think I’m falling for you, doll.”

To be continued...

Tags Below (Discontinued after this chapter, follow @buckyispunkwrites and turn on notifications!

@vicmc624 @distancedss @kandis-mom @cakesandtom @buckbuckybuckaroo @volleyballgirl2022 @sapphirebarnes @xobabygirl143xo @sarah1barnes @ladyacrasia @charmedbysarge @buckybarnessimpp @angelicbabydoll @tilltheendofthelinepal13 @jaydensluv @hilmiponken @openup-yourmind @marvelavengersstuff @noonespecial90 @primroseluna @unadulteratedpastazonkpeach @moonlightreader649 @buckyb-stan @skyesthebomb @grandma-sickomode @n1ght5h4d3-24 @bean-bean2000 @jchotch726 @sad-not-glad @happyglitterturtle @gyokujyn @bumblingbamblingbandofbaboons @differenttyphoonwerewolf @cjand10 @its-daydreamer23 @chemtrails-club

[forfucksakesniall]

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Driver!Reader

Trigger Warning/Content Advisory: Jealous and Kinda Mean Lewis

It's common to have celebrities visit the garage in F1, and you find it an advantage to meet some of them. Brad Pitt, The Kardashians, Megan Thee Stallion, Paris Hilton and many more. The one encounter that lives up until now was Sebastian Stan. You are his biggest fan. When you saw "Bucky" in the garage, he was the most gorgeous being you've ever seen—wait, Lewis.

You looked around the garage to find him but to no avail. It seemed like the perfect opportunity to pounce on Sebastian Stan. He was being toured in Lewis's garage, and somehow, I got the news of our visitor next door.

As you stepped into the garage, you immediately looked for "Bucky," and there he was, sculpted by the gods themselves. You were in total awe of him—his beautiful blue eyes, perfect jaw, his fit was eye candy, and his hair in a bun. This man is just—UGH.

Your phone buzzed, and you checked to see that it was from Lewis.

TODAY

Lewis

Do you mind closing your mouth?

Embarrassed, you closed it. But how did he know you were here? You looked around the garage one last time when you caught a glimpse of the monitor. The cameraman had captured your whole reaction while you were here.

You glared at the cameraman, then ignored him afterward. You couldn't let this opportunity slip away from meeting Sebastian Stan. When the tour was almost over, it was your time to shine. 

He was about to head out when a journalist spotted you both and asked if she could do an interview with you and Sebastian. You enthusiastically agreed to the idea, and as you approached him, he also agreed to the interview. Finally, luck was on my side.

Since it was somewhat dark in the garage, you were asked to step outside the grid for better lighting. As the journalist set things up, you turned to Sebastian, and to your surprise, he was already looking at you.

"I'm a big fan, by the way," you said.

"Aw, that's so sweet. Thank you so much," he replied, and then he hugged you. The hug felt like it was taking longer than expected, and just as you were lost in the moment, you heard someone clear their throat. 

It was the journalist, reminding you both to continue with the interview.

Reluctantly, you let go of the hug and settled for a side hug with Sebastian, which he didn't seem to mind, and he placed his hand on the side of your arm.

Throughout the interview, you found yourself mostly agreeing with whatever the journalist was saying. Afterward, you took photos together, which seemed to take forever to finish. You waved goodbye to Sebastian and blew him a kiss as he left.

TODAY 

Lewis 

Do you mind closing your mouth?  Seriously, doing an interview with him? Did PR agree to this?  What's with all the hugging?  Did it really have to be that many photos? 

Oh no, you're getting grumpy Lewis today.

You were on your way to your side garage and slowing to the back of the Driver’s room. When you get in you see Lewis standing there looking at you.

“Hey…” you said awkwardly

“....” he stays quiet

“You had Sebastian Stan in your garage… I met him... But you know that already…” you mentioned.

“Yea, you were so busy… Seems like you already forgot about me..” Lewis replied, heading towards the door to leave.

Quickly, you blocked his way and locked the door behind you.

“Why are you acting like this?” you said in frustration

“Wouldn't you wanna know” he sassed.

“Lewis… Are you... Are you jealous?” you were trying not to smile but it was obvious.

“Why would I- I don’t..” he huffs in annoyance, struggling to find his words.

You grinned mischievously, Oh Lewis you thought to yourself

You stepped closer to him and wrapped your arms around his neck. Your faces were inches apart from each other. You were looking at his eyes and slowly down to his lips. 

He was avoiding your gaze, and you sighed at his persistence to ignore your questioning.

“So.. No Kiss?... Okay then..” you tell him and place your face on the crook of his neck and inhale deeply. Gosh, you missed him. But you wouldn’t admit that because that would backfire for sure.

At first, he was stubborn, not hugging you back, but then you could feel his arms snake around your waist. You heard him mumble something.

"What?" you asked him.

“I said you smell like a man” he retorts back.

Oh, it must be Sebastian's perfume. You have to get back at him for this.

“How was Shakira any different…” you sassed back to him.

“I told you that was for PR… and you were with me the whole time…” 

“Whatever…”

You get to see jealous Lewis, to be fair it wasn't too bad. He still went to see me in the driver’s room like he always does. He’ll give me a kiss, a hug, and whisper sweet nothings to me. But today took a violent turn.

“I’m sorry…” you finally admit that maybe you overdid it. You got excited and fawned all over Sebastian.

“No, I’m sorry for being immature about it… I just thought maybe... You like him better than me... Or whatever. But I wasn't jealous, okay?” he says to you like a secret.

“Sure… So, you aren't mad anymore?”

“For a kiss, I won’t” he teases you.

I pull away to see his face and finally his beautiful brown eyes. He leans his forehead to mine. 

What a tease.

You lean closer and your lips touch. A soft and affectionate kiss, filled with sweetness and warmth.

[sstan-hoe]

Give You a Ride

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — cowboy!steve rogers × fem!reader

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — you had your eyes on him for a long time...finally something happens but you have to follow one rule; the cowboy rule...

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — SMUT; very little oral, dirty talk, p in v, (use protection!) kinda unprotected sex? reader could be on the pill or smh

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 — this is just a little steve drabble so I at least have one fic of him, but idk how to feel about this one!!! reblog, comment and follow!!

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

You sat alone at the bar, waiting for the rodeo to start. Even though you weren't a big fan of the sport, you were a huge fan of the blonde cowboy.

While all of them were good looking, he was by far the prettiest. You had your eyes on him for some time now, but he never seemed to notice you.

However you also didn't have the courage to ask him out. You were sure, no you saw how many women swooned over him.

In comparison to them you felt small, they knew what they were doing. Maybe that was what he wanted?

On the other side of the bar Steve Rogers couldn’t take his eyes off you. For a few months now he wanted to ask you out, but never did he know how until today.

He waited patiently for his turn on the mechanical bull. Once it was time he put on his cowboy hat and sat down on the bull.

"And now our favourite cowboy! Ladies, keep your panties on, Steve Rogers!" a man behind the microphone announced, catching everyone's attention.

Steve wasn’t a flirt, but he was well aware of his looks and charm. However unlike Bucky he used them carefully.

You sat down excited to see Steve break his own record, watch the way he flexed his muscles as he held onto the moving bull.

Little sweat pearls rolling down his forehead, his mouth agape as he tries to catch his breath.

A few loose strands fall into his handsome face. You felt the need to brush them away, oh how you wished you could. The urge became stronger with every second that passed, you got lost in your thoughts.

All you could think of was his, how his hands would grip your waist as he would fuck you into the mattress, how soft he would be afterwards. The way lips would feel on every inch of your body, the pleasure he would grant you.

Suddenly everyone clapped and cheered, Steve had broken his own record – again. You snapped out of it and saw how he got off the bull.

He grinned while walking towards the crowd. The blonde took off his hat, behind you the women were screaming for him. You stayed silent, not knowing what was going on.

Then he came to a stop in front of you, "hello, bunny," his voice deep, "I think you'd look quite good with my hat," Steve gave you a smirk before placing his hat on your head.

He was right, you looked beautiful. If he could he'd never let you take his hat off.

He was right, you looked beautiful. If he could he'd never let you take his hat off. You were frozen in your spot, having no idea what to do. Your brain couldn’t even comprehend what was happening at the moment.

Steve held out his hand for you to take which you took without hesitation. Your eyes found his blues, they were like an ocean and you wanted to drown in them.

“Let me take you for a ride,” he whispered against the shell of your ear, goosebumps trailed down your spine. God, his voice was like music to your ears.

“Yes, please,” you responded, pressing your body against his. Suddenly you felt hot, every fiber in your body yearned for more touch of Steve. The cowboy wrapped his arm around your waist and led you off the stage.

You couldn’t believe your luck, finally after all this time he saw you and even if it was only for one night you would enjoy it. Get it out of your system.

Steve was ecstatic, his plan worked and now he had you finally for himself. The two of you didn’t even make it to his room before he kissed you, he couldn’t wait any longer.

Your lips moved in sync, his were as soft as a pillow and oh, so gentle. There was no demand in the kiss, only passion, passion that only grew with every moment.

Your back hit the wooden door causing you to gasp, Steve took it as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. A dance started between you, who would win it? Who would dominate the other.

Steve unlocked the door behind you and pushed you through the doorway until your back hit the soft cushions of the bed.

With a smirk Steve made sure the hat sat right on you before he unbuttoned your trousers. "Look at this pretty thong my bunny is wearing, only for me?" He asked, his nose almost touching yours.

"Mhm, only for you," you arched your back in an attempt to get closer to him.

Steve let his hand trail beneath your lace thong, as soon as his fingers felt the wetness a low groan slipped from his lips.

"God, bunny, you're drenched…tell me why…, come on tell your cowboy," a hint of pleading was in his voice. Steve wasn't one to beg, and he didn't beg now. The blonde wanted you needy and desperate – as if you weren't already.

"It was–, was you…," a whine pushed past your lips as Steve entered your leaking hole with one finger, "go on," his voice deep, commending.

"On the–, bull, fuck!" You moaned when he curled his fingers and pressed his on your sensitive nub.

"I think it's time you fulfill your duty, bunny," before you could process his words you were on your knees. Steve had unbuckled his pants and found his place next to you.

"Come 'ere," he held his hand out just like he did before. You however weren't sure what to do which resulted in hesitation, an action Steve noticed.

"What's wrong bunny? Don'tcha know the cowboy rule?" a part of him was taunting you, but it only turned you on.

A bit bummed you shook your head, shy to admit it. Steve chuckled deeply and guided you onto his lap, he took out his hard cock. The tip was already leaking with precum, making a little mess on his white dress shirt.

Your eyes widened when you saw his thick girth, wondering how he'd fit inside you.

"Let me give you a little lesson," the blonde said and slowly pushed you down onto his cock. Your drenched cunt working as the perfect lube.

A loud whine fell from your lips, it hurt. He stretched you out and thanks to his length you were sure you felt him in your stomach.

"When a cowboy gives you their head, you have to ride him," Steve whispered, sitting up to lean against the headboard as he titles your chin up.

The thought of riding him had you unknowingly move your hips slightly.

"Have you rode a cowboy before, bunny?" He asked with a smirk and met your light movements. You couldn't get one word out, only shaking your head.

"Then I think it's time," were his last words before he grabbed your waist and moved your hips. It was a weird feeling at first, but the pleasure it brought you made up for it.

You moaned with every thrust you made, everytime you would hit that spot. You wanted more of him, rolled your hips faster and chased your high. Steve groaned, held tight onto you as you were so tight he had a hard time keeping himself from coming.

He was sure if you'd continue squeezing him like that he would explode.

"Yes, ride me, ride me like the slutty little bunny you are. Are you my bunny?" he laced his hand around your neck, squeezing gently yet demanding.

"Answer me," he ordered once more, you couldn't. The pleasure felt too overwhelming, a knot formed in your stomach.

Steve felt you getting tighter, he grabbed your hips and held you down and destroyed the process of your orgasm.

"You wanna come? You answer me bunny, you want to be my good bunny right…ride my cock, make your cowboy feel good…," his voice intense with no room for arguments.

"Yes, yes, yes! I'm your bunny, only yours!" You shouted, needing to quicken your pace again.

Steve nodded in approval, "good bunny," was all he said before letting go of your hips, but still keeping a hand on your throat.

A loud pornographic moan slipped from you, "imma come, Steve, let me come, please," you begged pathetically.

Steve smirked and leaned back, his hand trailing from your throat to your clit to rub tight circles.

"Come my slutty little bunny, but remember…the night's not over yet."

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | I do have a taglist however it has conditions that must be followed — you can follow @sstanhoe-updates for updates without anything

𝑩𝑶𝒀𝑺 𝑶𝑵𝑬 — @smile1318 @wintasssoldier @xcaptain-winterx @georgiapeach30513 @alina02 @broadwaybabe18 @jobean12-blog @buckymcu12 @daemonslittlebitch @shara-ne @lou-la-lou @pomegranatearildreams

[sam24]

Officially Confused

Summary: Tony thought you and Steve were enemies. Apparently not.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader

*****

Tony sighed as he took yet another sip of the tea Bruce had given him.

“It’ll help Tony, I promise. Just try it.”

Bullshit, Tony snorted. No matter how many cups he drank of Bruce’s alleged ‘calming’ tea, it wasn’t working.

His sleep-deprivation, bags under his eyes, major headache, and lots of meetings and press conferences needed to be attended to didn’t immediately disappear like he was secretly hoping.

And on top of that were you and Steve.

You two were a major pain in the ass for Tony, arguing all the time, during missions and meetings.

Even though he loved drama, the constant bickering had gotten a little out of hand.

Steve’s loyalty didn’t sit well with you, and your sarcasm didn’t sit well with him.

And Tony was stuck in the middle.

The first time you two had met was when he came out of the ice and Fury introduced him to you as his best agent.

The whole enemies thing didn’t actually start until you two went off on your first mission together a little bit after Bucky’s ‘rescue’ (Tony honestly didn’t know what to call it). Suddenly, you two were throwing passive-aggressive insults at each other like there was no tomorrow. After a while, the passive went away and they were just full on aggressive comments.

At first, Tony thought it was hilarious. Until he realized it was just annoying.

Individually, Tony actually really liked you, and he tolerated Steve. But together? Tony absolutely dreaded being in a room with you two in it, because nothing good could happen from that.

You both could somehow find the littlest things to argue about, and they would turn into full fledged debates in a span of 2 minutes. Usually you won, but that’s probably because Tony always waited until you had the last say to break it up.

But then something happened.

After your mission together in Craiova (even though Tony strongly vetoed the idea of you and Steve going together) something changed.

You stopped rolling your eyes the minute he opened his mouth, and he stopped leaning over to whisper something you probably wouldn’t like in Bucky’s ear whenever Fury mentioned you during Avengers meetings.

Tony once even thought he caught Steve looking at you during an Avengers Movie Night that Clint dragged you to, and not in the ‘what the hell is she doing here’ way.

Tony was needless to say shocked, but he didn’t have the time to enjoy it while it lasted because he was busy worrying that you would pull a ‘sike, you thought’ (at least that’s what Peter always would say) on him and you both would go back to making Tony go crazy.

That was the moment when you decided to walk in, taking a handful of m&ms from Clint’s ‘secret’ jar.

You raised your eyebrow at the empty tea packets decorating the kitchen counter.

“You might wanna throw those away before Steve calls the cops on you for littering.” You joked.

Tony hummed as he finished the cup with a long sip.

“Don’t blame me, it was all Doctor Bruce’s doings.”

You chuckled, not bothering to question it as you shoved another handful of stolen candy into your mouth.

“Well then please carry on. It would be hilarious to have ‘Death by Green Tea’ written on your grave.” You called over your shoulder as you left.

“Yeah, so funny.” Tony muttered before getting up to make another cup of tea.

He didn’t know if it was because he was tired, half dead inside, stressed out, or just high on tea, but he didn’t realize until 20 minutes later that the oversized hoodie you were wearing was actually Steve’s.

*

One hour later, Tony was fanned out on the couch, officially confused.

There was no doubt the hoodie was Steve’s, considering the fact he wore it all the time (and that it was an abnormal size).

Certainly you didn’t steal it from him. Steve would’ve guarded it with his life. But even if you did manage to, he would’ve hunted it down in 0.001 seconds.

Were you guys together?

No way, Tony thought. The only logical explanation is that she bought a ginormous hoodie because she was cold, and it looks exactly like his because they have similar style.

But even Tony knew that was stupid.

And in that moment, Steve strolled into the common room (what are we in, Hogwarts?), looking oddly happy.

“Oh, hey there Tone.” Steve pulled out a salad from the fridge. “You okay?”

Tony’s eyes narrowed.

He was supposed to be okay. The two people who hated each other like just last week were exchanging hoodies, so that was good for him, right? No more arguing?

Wrong.

Tony wasn’t worried anymore. He was suspicious. (Or, ‘sus’, as Peter would say.)

He decided to put Steve to the test.

“I’m fine, just tired.”

Tony continued talking about all the work he had to do as he watched Steve clearly zone out.

Step one: See if Her Name Gets His Attention.

Tony said your name, and Steve looked up so fast Tony thought his neck would snap.

“ -made me some tea though, and that really helped.” Tony carefully watched Steve’s face as he lied with no remorse.

“That’s good.” Steve was a master at the poker face, but Tony could tell it was coming down.

Step two: Watch His Reaction to Her Praise.

“I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

Tony was expecting jealousy to step two, but he got something even better.

“Yeah, she’s pretty cool.” Steve looked down.

Tony could’ve sworn Steve was blushing.

No, he did swear. That little bastard was indeed blushing.

At this point, the rest of the steps were useless.

Steve was making it incredibly obvious.

You know that proud husband look Tony had whenever Pepper did something great that made him wanna shout ‘THAT’S MY WIFE, BITCHES’?

Yeah, that’s exactly the look Steve had on.

Steve then had a very visible realization that he was smiling like a fool and staring into space, his salad forgotten.

Steve cleared his throat and devoured the remaining of the salad as quickly as he could and practically ran out.

Tony smirked and got up from the couch - but not to make another cup of tea.

His job here was done.

Now, all he needed to do was tell the whole compound.

[avelera]

I am never going to be over what the movies did with Steve and Tony's dynamic, because- listen, listen. The reason Civil War was (supposed to, it was kind of a hot mess) hit so hard in the comics was that these two were *best friends* and had been for decades of comic time. In the movies, they never are friends, so Civil War is just two colleagues who never really got on, and not the devastating tearing apart of a long-established friendship group.

Dude I literally burst out into like... outraged, furious laughter in the theater when Tony said, "I thought I was your friend?" because, umm, footage not fucking found?

I completely get and respect the comic readers here for whom Steve & Tony and Steve/Tony were, in fact, the best of friends! But the MCU never ever actually showed it.

To cram that line, which felt lifted from the comics, into the MCU was genuinely laughable. How could Tony possibly think he compares to what we've seen of Steve and Bucky's relationship, since childhood even if you don't ship them, as the only person Steve has left from his entire life pre-WWII? How could Tony possibly think he compares except through the lens of a galaxy sized ego and being totally self-involved to the exclusion of all else? How could any work colleague, since that's what they are at best when not outright antagonists to each other in the MCU, think they'd compare to a childhood friend in danger, that Tony is actively putting in danger? Who Tony is blaming for the death of his father despite the fact they've got piles of evidence that Bucky was a mind-controlled prisoner of war being actively tortured at the time?

It's literally staggering, it beggars belief that this line was uttered. And wildly enough, it's not even my least favorite line in Civil War. (That one goes to Vision's stupid fucking comment about how strength invites challenge, basically victim-blaming the superheroes for having villains, which only possibly makes any sense if you ignore Thor, the greater galaxy, all of the infinity stones, and basically every other part of the MCU timeline before Steve Rogers got the serum, Christ that line makes me mad.

Oh, and the line about Tony just handwaving signing the accords because their lawyers can fix it later as the most boneheaded line of insane privilege I've ever heard. Kids, never fucking sign something just because you can supposedly fix it later, christ it's the dumbest thing I've ever heard.)

ANYWAY, I have major beef with Civil War's logic. It never should have happened where it did in the MCU. Cap 3 should have been dedicated to its original plot before they found out RDJ was staying on in the MCU and they had the pieces to make Civil War (the original was the hunt for Bucky and an examination of Captain America's legacy through the lens of Bucky killing off the pretenders the US government set up to be him over the years, and I still weep that we never got it) But I do honestly, deeply, have sympathy for comic fans and why they're mad about the Steve and Tony friendship never actually appearing on screen in any meaningful way.

Civil War shouldn't have happened then. Civil War is a plot you run now, when you've got the rights to the X-Men and too many damn characters running amok. Civil War would be perfect now for pairing down some of the ballooning MCU nonsense. The cast was literally not big enough circa Cap 3 to make Civil War. And I'm eternally bitter that they pivoted away from the smaller-scale Cap-centric movie we should have had and instead made another Avengers movie in its name.

[urdepressedslut]

You could never hurt me

♡ Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Platonic!Sam Wilson x Fem!Reader, Platonic!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: Bucky realizes what he’s done to you after an episode, and starts to doubt if he deserves to be with you.

♡ Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of choking

It was fair to say that shit had hit the fan, the sliver of calm that was held before… ripped away.

Somehow Bucky was triggered into The Winter Soldier, allowing many to see how he was in action up close. Much to Bucky's dismay, nobody trusted him even more now. Besides his close friends that is, which sadly wasn't many.

The trio, Sam, Steve and (Y/n) had tried their best to subdue the soldier, but were easily outmatched.

Sam walked away with a sore back, some bruises here and there, while Steve was able to come out of the tussle without many marks himself. (Y/n) on the other hand, had some pretty bad bruising circling her neck. She felt fine physically, having taken worse damage at some other time in her life. Though emotionally she felt torn, knowing that Bucky wasn't in control, but she knew that wouldn't stop him from punishing himself.

Able to seclude them four away from prying eyes, the trio waited for Bucky to wake. Steve and (Y/n) was hoping that it would be their Bucky that would eventually stir, and not the soldier.

"How you doing?" Steve asked her from her sitting spot, a good distance away from Bucky's hunched over form.

"Not too bad... I've had worse." She answered, wincing at the discomfort from speaking.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" He asked with a 'Really?' look.

"Guess not. Sorry... I just..." She paused, exhaling painfully, "He's been through so much, he can't seem to catch a break."

"I know." He said solemnly, focusing his gaze to a spot on the floor by her shoes.

"With everyone looking for him, now we got Tony added into the search squad."

"You really think he won't help us out?" Steve asked, making (Y/n) scoff from her spot on the floor.

"It feels unfair to ask him for help... Knowing what you know." She told him, giving him a disappointed look.

Steve looked into her eyes now surprised, having not known that she was aware. He opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't find an appropriate response.

"Its not fair Rogers... After everything he's done for us? It's not your choice, he deserves to know." She stated, giving Steve a look of disapproval.

"I know, okay?" Steve finally spoke, running his hand through his disheveled hair.

"Hey Cap!" Sam shouted from his spot near Bucky, grabbing both him and hers attention, halting their current conversation.

Both making their way over, she stood behind the boys, watching Bucky cautiously.

Bucky let out a groan of discomfort, trying to sit upright, noticing his metal armed pinned. He glances around taking in the weary looks on the men's faces, while he notices (Y/n) hiding.

"Steve?"

"Which Bucky am I talking to?" Steve asked, not willing to take any chances.

Bucky thought hard for a moment before speaking.

"Your mom's name was Sarah," He pauses, "You used to wear newspapers in your shoes." He lightly chuckles, causing Steve to smile in relief.

"You can't read that in a museum." Steve stated.

"Just like that we're supposed to be cool?" Sam asked him.

"Sam..." (Y/n) warned, slowly stepping out from behind Steve.

"What? A guy can't be too careful." Sam told her, receiving a glare.

"Enough Sam..." She locked eyes with Bucky, "It wasn't him."

Bucky suddenly focused his gaze on her neck, wincing at the apparent hand-shaped bruise forming.

"I did that." He stated, not needing anyone to confirm for him, he was a monster.

"Buck, it wasn't you. That doctor triggered you." She told him, trying to convince him.

"But I still did it." He retorted, watching the frown form on her face.

"No, because I know you... Bucky would never hurt me." She told him.

"Doll I..." Bucky started, but stopped himself from giving her a lousy apology.

"Can you guys release his arm and give us a minute?" She asked the two.

"(Y/n) I don't think tha—"

"Please." She begged, keeping her eyes locked with Bucky's shame filled orbs.

The two nodded in agreement, releasing his arm and giving them privacy.

"Your heads bleeding, let me see." She told him.

Bucky knew he didn't deserve her kindness, but he couldn't find it in him to push her away, he craved her touch.

"Really, I'm okay." He tried to convince her, even though he was far from it.

"You've never been able to lie to me... So don't try it now." She spoke, her voice shaking just barely.

"Doll, I'm so sorry I..." He choked up, "I never wanted this to happen, my worst nightmare has come true."

Her hands held the sides of his face, smearing away the escaping tear. Rubbing her thumbs up and down, she watched the quiver in his lip slow.

"The only way you could ever hurt me, is if you left me." She cooed, feeling both his arms wrap around her sides, pulling her slightly closer in need of comfort.

"I'm supposed to protect you. I can't protect you from myself. We can't... You shouldn't be with me." His voice went to a whisper by the end, the words feeling bitter rolling off is tongue.

"I'm sorry Buck, but you're not allowed to make that decision for me. I'm always gonna stay." She spoke strongly, no more shakiness in her voice.

He went to respond, but choked on a sob. He truly didn't deserve her, and he still couldn't comprehend that after everything, she still wanted him. Leaning forward he snuggled his face in the crook of her neck. Taking in her comforting scent, he was home.

"I love you baby... I love you so much." She promised, hearing his sobs die down, his breathing slowing.

Lifting his face so that his was inches from hers, he gazed into her eyes adoringly. His eyes danced down to her lips, then met her orbs again.

"I love you (Y/n)... I don't deserve you." He whispered.

He closed the space between them, capturing her lips in a devoted kiss. He let his metal arm pull her onto his lap, letting his flesh fingers tangle themselves into her hair. They could taste their shared breath, feeling the light thump of their heartbeats against each others lips.

Pulling away from him for air, she held his face in front of hers, letting their foreheads connect. Bucky closed his eyes in content, letting their breaths warm each other.

"You deserve everything." She whispered.

A/N: im so protective of bucky, he deserves to be happy 🥺 pls feel free to send in requests 🤍

[world-of-aus]

Live Now

Pairing: Camboy!Bucky x Camgirl!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI (Male masturbation)

Authors Note: I am so sorry for the delay on this one, but this past week was my return to work with inservices, meetings, and a staff workday Friday. I hope this chapter is up to everyone expectations, as always happy readings Buns.

“Siren, sweetheart when I imagined you making things hard for me I was imagining something different.”

You bite down on the grin that threatens to kiss your lips, schooling your features as you take in the man on the screen. There’s almost too much of him for that all to tiny screen of yours, you can’t place where your eyes want to land next. What part of him you want to drink in next.

“Fully clothed and I already have you looking dazed, can you imagine the day I have you under me?” your eyes snap to his grainy ones, narrowing as you give him an unamused look. “Someone’s cocky, I could just boot you, you know.”

The low chuckle that resonates from your laptop’s speaker has you clenching your thighs together. You’d never been more glad that they weren’t visible to the brunette. “You could, but would you want to?”

You raise a brow, “you think I won’t?”

You suck down a breath watching as he takes purchase on his thighs, biceps flexing as he leans in, “I know for a fact you won’t, now you under me what do you say?”

You mirror his posture, “I say, next time ask me nicer B.” He doesn’t have time to question your words before your booting him from the chat, his image leaving with a soft whoosh. Your phone goes off next to you, a notification from your website.

You unlock your phone your laughter bubbling up into the air of your room.

You’re being bratty tonight siren.

🤷‍♀️

You could have just been a good girl and used your words. Do you not want to be under me?

He’s right, you are feeling bratty, have been bratty since the night he confronted you about your set with Pietro. That night had also been the beginning of a back and forth friendship of sorts, you loved and hated it all the same.

As much as I would LOVE to run my mouth all over that body of yours I fear I’m not going to be able to handle you 🥲

Laugh it up sweetheart I’ll have tears running down your face in due time.

You bite your lip, thumbs running over your words.

You promise?

You leave him with that jumping over to the notifications that sit in your inbox from your sets. Many of the comments were wondering the same as the man in your messages. When were you going to collaborate with buckmeup.

You knew the questions would be flooding your notifications the night you had released the set with Pietro, many of buckmeups fan’s in your live that evening to see what type of thank you, you had for them. They didn’t sign off that night disappointed, if anything you had fueled their desire to see you with the male cammer further.Your live and sets that evening had reached buckmeup as well, his name popping up in your inbox an hour after your live had ended. He had been sincere with you from the first message that night, immediately apologizing for his previous comment making you feel some type of way.

I’ve gotta apologize sweetheart, for my comment, thought I was being playful but I can see where it might have been misconstrued, just didn’t want to get tangled with you when I already had previous commitment with someone else. I wanted to be entirely free to you when the time came, you deserve that.

You remember the sheer panic that encompassed you when he liked your photoset, but it didn’t compare to when his message came in. You had tried to play it off, even going as far as to throw in a teasing line about him not sending his fans to you.

Maybe you should have left the comment about his live out.

You watched my live?

You had laughed the comment off sayin;

And what if I did? You telling me you never watched another cammer before?

His answer was an obvious yes, it’s how he chose the female cammers to collaborate with. It’s how he found you.

His comment that followed after surprised you,

Awe shit sweetheart that must have stung, me making my comment then you seeing that.

You had been taken back to say the least, you weren’t expecting anything from him, much less this, an apology. You didn’t know what to say. So he spoke for you.

Let me make it up to you.

Please.

Since that night you had come to learn that B as you had taken to calling him these past weeks could beg you real nice when he wanted, it was a surprise you had lasted this long. He was making it very hard recently inviting you to private chat rooms to speak with you and you alone. No wandering eyes hiding behind the screen of a laptop, no comments popping up wanting more.

You had never met a man more resilient and charming like B, then again how many men had you come across that did sex work as their job?

The answer?

None.

A chime from your laptop is bringing you too, your eyes flicking over to message notification. You can’t help but laugh, ‘speak of the devil,’ you murmur clicking on your direct messages with buckmeup. It opens, a link to a private chat waiting for you, your brows furrow but you don’t hesitate to press the link.

A black screen takes over, a baited breath passes and he’s filling up your screen. An amused smile pulls at your lips, “you didn’t invite me just to boot me did you?”

“Now why would I do that?” he grins.

You raise a brow, “what do you want?” He laughs huskily, “why do you assume I want anything?”

You examine him for a moment, a chime goes off realization hitting, “are you?” the rest of your question freezes along your tongue. This is the first time you think you see guilt flash across his features.

He rubs at the stubble along his chin, “was gonna ask for help this evening but you booted me before I could ask, thought we could start slow, give you just enough to have you wanting more, what do you say?” It falls silent between the two of you, but neither looks away, the soft chime ringing in the background the only noise coming from your speakers.

Maybe your time had finally run out. You couldn’t avoid it forever, and this was your chance to build your following.

You bite.

You catch the wolfish grin that pulls at his lips when you get yourself comfortable. “You going to make my time worth my while? You know what I’m capable of.”

He chuckles leaning back onto his pillows, the hand you’ve imagined many nights wrapped around your throat coming into view. He trails it down to the lining of your favorite grey joggers on him, “something tells me you’ve seen just how good I can be sweetheart, not even going to think twice of clicking out." His gaze flickers off to the side, "Don’t worry guys, she’s not going anywhere.”

You laugh, “for now," you lean back agains the wooden frame of your bed, "you going to show me a good time B?"

You shouldn’t have been surprised, true to his word you hadn’t thought of exiting once since he began. You were in trance, and you were wet, thighs clenched aching for some kind of friction, anything to aide with the heat coursing through you due to the sight before you.

You had never wanted your lips wrapped around a cock more than you did now.

“Whats wrong siren?” he coos breathlessly, “that pretty pussy of yours aching for a touch?” You want to smack the grin off his plush lips, “touch yourself baby, fuck yourself on your fingers for me.”

Your hand comes into his view fingers swaying, “wouldn't feel as good as yours,” you pout, “I wanna feel full.”

He throws his head back in a low groan, fist going over his cock a little quicker now, “let me in siren,” he grunts fucking up into his fist, “I’ll fill you up just like you need, all you’ve got to do is let me in.”

You find the thought laughable because he was already in, you agreeing to this was that wall finally crumbling down.

He watches your hand fall onto your clothed chest, fingers dancing down your torso, "that's it baby, keep going," he breathes. Your teeth catch on your lower lip, fingers drawing closer to the tops of your silk bottoms. "Touch your pussy for me."

The walls crumbles to ash your teeth sink lower into your lip, your fingers dipping beneath the waistband till they're going over the curls covering your mound parting your slick folds. The hold your teeth have loosens, your lip dropping on a silent gasp, “that's my girl,” he husks, eyes locked on you.

Your touch is feather light, a low whine bubbling in your chest as you test the waters. "Don't be shy, touch yourself, make yourself feel good." Listening to his words your eyes leave his darkened ones trailing down his exposed stomach to where his hand is wrapped around his hardened length low grunts spilling from his lips as he works himself over. 

You dip your fingers a little further collecting slick as you drag back up to circle your clit, finding the spot that makes jolts of pleasure course through you. Pressing a little harder, working your finger a little quicker, your breath catches in your throat.

A breathy moan is sounding from your laptops speakers, in the form of your screen name, the sinful things you would do to hear that again.

"Feels so good B," you breathe, your body trembling as you work your fingers faster trying to match his pace.

“Fuck siren, being so good for me, a good girl aren't you?” he groans as he watches you pleasure yourself, his hands gripping himself a little tighter, pumping a little harder to what he imagines is the swivel of your finger beneath your silky night shorts. Your eyes slip shut, head thunking against your wooden headboard as you let the sound of him consume you. You’re close to the edge, the broken moans, and low grunts of your screen name have your head reeling, fingers circling faster. It’s not enough, the need to feel him growing strong, your hand itching to wrap around his hardened length. 

“Talk to me Siren, tell me what you need?" he grunts. 

“I need you” you moan, “want you here with me, want you to fill me up, want to be so full of you.” you whine. 

His mouth is dipped open in a low moan, eyes hooded over in lust, and you can’t bring yourself to look away. “I know sweetheart, I know, but you're being so good for me Siren, you're such a good girl.” he murmurs.

Your fingers match the rhythm in which he pumps at his cock, "I'd be so good, such a good girl for you," you moan, biting back the 'only girl'.

"I know baby I know, now why don't you let me see just how good it can be, let go for me."

You’re right on the edge, toes over the cliff and the thing to send you over is the growl of your name falling from his lips, his warmth coating his abdomen, spilling over his fist.  The first wave hits, your orgasm washing over you as your toes curl, finger stilling over your clit, a low moan spills from your lips, “That's it sweet girl, ride it out for me.”

You groan as you come down from the pleasure, a giggle slipping past your lips as you pull your fingers from your shorts. You slip lower into your sheets watching as Bucky shifts around on the screen cleaning himself up. He slips up his jogger composing himself before he begins his signoff. It goes like it does every night, with a promise to see them tomorrow. He signs off with a final wave, a swish sounding before his attention is focused solely on you, and you alone.

He gets comfortable against his headboard, "you feeling alright there Siren?"

You chuckle, "a little dissatisfied, but nothing my little vibe can't fix later tonight."

"A free show for a free show." he teases.

He's drawing another laugh from you, "I'll make sure to invite you to a private chat tomorrow, give you a free show and get my coin."

He chuckles the sound going throw you, "thank you for tonight by the way, I'm sure it wasn't ideal me throwing it on you like this - but I was running out of choices."

"Told you, you just needed to ask me nicely, I would have eventually said yes."

Your eyes track the way he runs his tongue over his lower lip, teeth catching, "thank you for giving me a chance."

"You keep it up and you'll be making due on your promises in no time B."

He grins, "I look forward to is Siren." The two of you bid one another a farewell, a promise on your lips to see him tomorrow before he's signing off, your screen going back to your website.

You go through some of the new notifications that popped in, setting up your new sets to upload before you're signing off for the night, laptop snapping shut as you push it off to the side. Slipping from your bed you grab your phone, night robe, and night ware intent on a warm shower before you call it a night. Making your way into you bathroom you set your things down on the counter picking up your phone to set some music.

Your search for music comes to a pause, a notification from cashapp vibrating across your screen. Brows furrowed you click the notification.

'Bucky Barnes' has sent you $500.

For a second you worry that someone has mistakenly sent you a large amount of money but as your gaze drifts further down the message that follows has your heart swooping in your chest.

"Thank you again for tonight Siren, hope you didn't think I was the only one making coin tonight, this is for you - buckmeup"

[thedeviltohisangel]

All The Things I Did (11): Love Me To My Bones

a/n: i promise one day john will sing blue skies. we are slowly but surely working our way towards that beautiful occasion. there is a lot of yearning and can you tell i am reading romance novels again moments in here but i will gladly rot my teeth and hope you all will. let me know how much or little you'd like to see of cass/harding with the brits. i am here to meet your needs, always. love you guys like you hang the stars !

Once her and John had regained control of their breathing and Cass control of her legs, they’d giggled like school children while cleaning up her office. This intimacy was a warmly welcomed change for them both. An escalation of the love he had already expressed to her and the commitment she had echoed back in kind. It felt validating that after baring her soul the night before he had still wanted her. That her acquiescence to the Colonel’s offer hadn’t swayed his desires. Over and over again she been met with the overwhelming feeling of being loved by John Egan. And everytime it felt amplified. Solidified. Sanctified. As if every time was building off the last resulting in a compounding level of love that left her dizzy.

John Egan was all encompassing. And she wanted him forever. Just the way he was.

“You’re really going to make me wait hours to see you again?” he whispered as they gently swayed in each other’s arms. “Can’t you come make Red look like an idiot for a little bit?”

“While the idea of upstaging him is incredibly appealing, I have to coordinate something with Mary for tonight.” She kissed him gently. “You’ll come by to zip me up?”

“Only because you promised I could unzip you after.”

“Three times in one day, Major. Make sure you eat some protein and drink some water. I’m not a fan of my lovers losing their stamina on me.” She kissed him once again and headed for the doors.

“How many lovers you got, Spook?” She thought about answering. Telling him that he was only the second man she had ever been with. If the first even counted as a man. But then would he feel inclined to give a number back? From all the whispers she had heard, she didn’t want to know what that number was.

“Not nearly as many as you, John. You don’t have to worry.” Cass tried to keep her tone teasing, tried to open the door and step back into the fray but his palm pushed the door shut before she opened it any more than an inch. 

“What does that mean?” He closed the distance between them and turned her around so they were chest to chest. “Cass, please tell me you don’t think about my past like that.” Like it was something for her to compare herself to. Like she was just another name on his list.

“I’ve only been intimate with one other person.” Her answer stayed like that. No true answer to what John had just asked. 

“And even if you’d been with none or a hundred, it wouldn’t change that I love you. That the connection we have is very important to me. Special, even.” Cass nodded.

“I know. But people talk, John. People talk about the you before you met me.” Bucky. The man who danced with all the pretty girls and kissed them before he left. Had gone even further outside in the grass once apparently. A version of him she’d seen glimpses of but not the full picture. Did he regret starting this thing with her? Regret putting that piece of him to rest?

“There is no me before you. Not anymore. Yes. I’ve had more than my fair share of…intimate moments with other women. But the version of me standing in front of you, Cassandra Ann, is not that man. The man in front of you loves you. Didn’t know what the word meant before you let alone the feeling.” He reached down and grabbed her hands and brought each finger to his lips individually. “I’m tethered to you, Cass. In a way I hope to one day be able to explain to you. But I never want you thinking, not for one second, that my life didn’t start that day on the air strip. When I saw you and fell in love with you and knew I was going to be yours forever before I even knew your name.” She pecked him quickly.

“I wasn’t expecting all that when I mentioned it, Johnny. Consider any doubt soothed.” Her hands rested on the side of his neck as his fingers locked around the small of her back. "You don’t ever need to try and articulate that feeling to me. I’ve got the key to translating it right here.” She placed his hand over her heart. John traced the tip of his finger up and down the front of her throat. 

“My puzzle piece,” he murmured. Cass smiled and rubbed her nose against his lovingly. 

“When we go out there, please remember you’ve taken my underwear. Shield me from the vultures,” she teased knowing her pencil skirt was plenty long enough to cover the scandalous bits. 

“How are they ever going to recover from seeing your bare, stocking-less legs?”

“That is also entirely your fault,” she mentioned with a furrowed brow. “Maybe I should ruin some of your clothing and have you prance around the secretaries' bullpen.”

“Mary would protect me. I’m certain.” 

“I’ll ask. And then pick my course of action accordingly.” John hummed in amusement and placed his palms on her cheeks. 

“As long as that course ends up right here,” he kissed her dramatically for effect,”then you pick away, baby.” Those three words were screaming in her chest. Crawling their way up her throat and trying to poke her lips out of the way. If she opened her mouth right now, she would say it. I love you. I love you, John. I’m in love with every last godforsaken inch of you and I want to love you like this until the day I die. Please don’t ever leave me. I won’t be able to continue on. Instead she smiled and stood on her tiptoes for another kiss. Her feelings tucked back into the corner of her heart that was reserved for John anyways. Underneath any other secret she may be keeping from him.

----

“Ma’am I am so incredibly sorry! I had no idea that he sent Eloise here for-” Cass held a hand out to steady Mary as she returned to her building, her secretary frantically trying to apologize for the ordeal with Harding that was now set to take place.

“Breathe, Mary, breathe. I am not upset with you. I know you would never participate in such a farce willingly. Eloise is not to blame either.” She pulled Mary into a hug. “I told the lovely Colonel that I don’t want him using you in his schemes ever again.” Mary smiled. Only Lieutenant Cooper had the guts to go toe to toe with a Colonel. Only she could come out of the fight victorious. Having someone like her in her corner, Mary was thankful every day.

“And what was the ultimate aim of his scheme this time?”

“He invited me to dinner with the Brits tonight. Said he used the information from Eloise to have a dress custom made for me to wear.” Mary disappeared behind her desk and lifted a box onto the top. It was large and wrapped with pink paper complete with a bow. 

“Left a note and everything,” Mary mused. Half of her had wanted to show it to Major Egan. Send him on the warpath towards Colonel Harding and see what fun that might stir up. But her more sensible half had won out and saved it for Lieutenant Cooper.

“Did you read it?” Mary nodded. “Do I want to read it?” She ripped it as an answer. “Perfect. Let’s go unpack this.” Cass set the offensive box on her bed and pulled the ribbon loose before ripping the paper and lifting the lid. It was a shade of lilac. Sleeves that would hit the middle of her upper arm and poofed slightly at the seam. A neckline that would show just enough of her collarbone to be considered tantalizing but not scandalous. She hated that she already knew it was going to look lovely on her. 

“Does Major Egan plan on stopping by?” Mary asked softly. Her own mind was whirring with the possible emotions the man was going to exhibit. 

“He does,” Cass whispered back, her eyes unable to look away from the dress. “I promised him he could see me before Harding. See me immediately after.”

“I see.” They were both studying the dress with an assessing gaze. Wondering that problems it may present for their future selves. 

“Maybe I’ll start by taking a shower. See if that can’t clear my head and offer me a better idea on what to do.” 

“Do you have any specific requirements for tonight? I could get started on your questioning plan,” Mary offered as she searched Cass’ closet for an empty wire hanger for the dress. 

“I haven’t quite decided yet which attendee will be my target,” she muttered back. “Maybe we brush up our targeting package on the British Colonel and go from there. I know enough about Harding that I can pin him without any research.”

“It’ll be ready when you are, ma’am,” Mary promised. She gathered the packaging from the dress in her arms and was back to her desk to get to work. 

Cass felt absolutely ridiculous as scrubbed at her hair and shaved her legs and used her sweet smelling soap all over her body. It was the same routine she would follow for any mission of this nature. A mission where she was expected to use her lilting laugh and eyelashes and every inch of forbidden skin to get what she wanted. It was on these nights she felt like an arrow being knocked by a hunter. Pointed in the direction that suited them best. Arced into the sky with a hope that it would hit its target and exact the killing blow. All with the hopes the victim never saw it coming. Never heard the truth behind her aim. Never felt the tip lodge between their ribs until she had already left.

As she ran the hairdryer over her head, she did her best to find that look in the mirror. The mask she always wore when she was tasked with an objective. The one she had worn in Berlin but shrugged as quickly as she could. She hadn’t really removed it since Berlin. Just for those moments between her and John in her room or in her office. Otherwise she had made sure it was firmly in place. Lest she break down again for all to see. The humiliation had been gut wrenching. And then there was her letter to her superiors. Asking if she could speak to the Foster family. Offer them closure from the last person to see their son alive. Their answer was quick. Someone called Mary from a secure line to tell her to tell Cass no. She had used the word ‘coward’ more than once in her rant to the secretary. 

The soft knock on the door was from the woman in question. “Lieutenant Cooper?” Cass clicked off the tool and looked at her with a steadying breath. “Major Egan is rather impatiently waiting for you in the foyer.”

“Alright. I’ll be out to ensconce him away in just a moment,” she promised. Mary offered her a soft smile before she was closing the door and steeling herself to deal with the handsome annoyance in the front of the building. She could hear the grumbling and the groaning coming from him as she carefully rolled her curlers into her hair. Did her best to focus as she heard footsteps approaching the door. Footsteps that were way too heavy to belong to Mary’s kitten heels. 

“Is everyone decent?” he called through the door. 

“I’m alone. You couldn’t just wait five minutes?” she asked with an exasperated tone as the door swung open and he appeared. 

“Nope.” The word popped out of his mouth with a distinct clarity and amused look. “Not when you’re the only thing that could calm my thoughts.” There was something dark and hollow inside of him whenever he thought about her spooky work. John would never be able to forget the way she looked in the sick bay after Berlin. The way she had crumpled into her arms and wept over the loss of her friend. He didn’t understand how Harding could ask her to suit back up so quickly but then again he had experienced the same relentless pace. Prepare, attack, debrief, prepare, attack, debrief and on and on until it became the only three things you knew how to do. 

“Calm your thoughts? What is causing them to race?” She set the curler onto the counter to offer him her full attention. 

“It’s only been a day, Cass.” Oh. So that is what this was about. 

“You don’t think I’m ready to get back into the real world? You didn’t seem to think I was fragile this morning when you fucked me on my desk.” It had always been an asset of hers that she was able to shut down her emotions and move on. Lock away that human part of her and just keep going forwards. Yesterday or the day before or any other day might as well be a different lifetime. Moving on was the only way for her to carry on. 

“I did not use that word,” he hedged as she started shoving things into a makeup bag angrily. “Just wanted you to know it’s okay to take some time. Okay to let the wound take time to heal.”

“There is no wound, John. The same way you get called to go back up there regardless of who was lost and what you saw the last time. The same way you answer the call and climb into the plane without even thinking about it. This is exactly the same thing.” It was then she noticed the flowers in his hands. Not the wildflowers like he normally brought her. They looked like they came from a proper florist. “What are those?” she whispered.

“I thought a lady such as yourself could recognize lilies when she saw them.” The longer he had thought about Cass going to this dinner with Harding, waltzing in on the arm of a Colonel in a dress he had tailor made for her, and then his mind had turned completely dark. The image of her family business in South Carolina and the banker she had been expected to marry. The debutante balls and afternoon tea socials. A world he was wholly inadequate to be a part of. He needed to try harder. For her. For the future he wanted for them. Be the man worthy of expressing her love to. 

“What happened to the wild flowers?” Cass appreciated the gesture. Could only imagine how hard these had been to find in the local town. But the wildflowers were special. Represented the land that brought them together. The spirit of freedom that she felt whenever she was around him. 

“I thought these were a bit nicer. For the occasion.” 

“Thank you.” She took them and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “But the wildflowers…they make me feel like I get to keep a piece of my wild, Wisconsin man in my room or office while you’re away.”

“You deserve-”

“I am not even deserving of you, John.” Not after everything she had done. 

“I love you. You deserve the world. And I’m going to give it to you.” Even if it was bit by bit and piece by piece and took him a lifetime to deliver to her. He would spend his days offering these shards of life to her on bended knee. Only then would he feel deserving of the woman in front of him. 

“That sounds like it might take awhile, Major. Sure you want to be stuck with me that long?” He kissed her lips gently. 

“It’s all I could ever want.”

----

True to his request and her promise, it was John’s fingers that brushed the skin of her back, the zipper closing impeccably at the top.

“How’s it look?” Cass’ question was directed at Mary. John looked too stunned to speak. A mix of anger and worship swirling across his face.

“You look beautiful, ma’am,” she answered honestly. “I’ll go keep an eye out for the Colonel.” It translated to her offering them a moment alone before Cass was on her way.

“Well? Do you agree? Am I beautiful?” she asked with a teasing spin. The skirt flared in a perfect circle before resting back above her knee. 

His fingertips skirted over hers before tracing up her forearms and settling around her elbows. He used them to pull her flush against his chest where his nose took on the duty of urging goosebumps across her skin. “You just want me to look like a fool. Trying to find words to capture just how…splendid you look right now.”

“Splendid?” Her eyebrows rose as she locked her fingers behind his neck. “

“I asked Gale to help me think of some new words.” With a grin that could only be described as childlike, he pulled a piece of worn paper from his breast pocket. “Splendid, magnificent, spectacular…” His voice carried off as she giggled. 

“I’m surprised he didn’t just laugh at you.” In truth, John had been hunched over a piece of paper trying to write a poem for Cass. To say it was going horribly would be an understatement. Part of Gale had been screaming to tell John he didn’t need to resort to such trivial things to prove he was worthy of her. To keep her from running off with Colonel Harding. That everybody within a hundred mile radius knew exactly who each of them belonged to. No questions asked. But the other part of him had thought the show of devotion was worthy of being nurtured. Knew John hadn’t felt this way, not even close, ever before. Probably never would again. Knew that Cass had been the greatest influence on his friend even in their short time of knowing each other. Helping the budding romantic couldn’t hurt. 

“I think he’s rooting for us,” he whispered in her ear like it was the greatest secret of mankind. 

“I think Mary is too,” she whispered against his cheek before pressing her lips to the skin there. 

“Guess we better not fuck it up.” A grin spread across her face that he matched as she kissed at the corner of his lips, his mustache tickling her lovingly. “I’m sorry for ever questioning you.”

“I’m sorry for thinking it meant you doubted me.” 

“I just want you to be safe and taken care of. Make sure you know someone is looking out for you.” Love was screaming in her chest at his admission. Wasn’t this exactly what love was? Putting another’s well being before your own? 

“Thank you.” She chose the simple words to offer him. Relished in the way his eyes fluttered close as their foreheads rested against each other. 

“I don’t want to let you go.” He wanted her all to himself. Wanted this version of her, this prim and proper version, to be for him and him alone. Reclaim that piece of her Landry had taken away. Hold her while she learned to love it all over again. 

“One day, you won’t have to. I promise.” She couldn’t promise that one day would come soon That they would survive the end of the war and live their happily ever after. But she could promise him that when it did, she would be there with open arms and a full heart ready to love him until the light in her eyes was extinguished.

“Ma’am, Colonel Harding is here for you.” Mary had held him off as long as she could.

“A kiss for good luck?” Cass requested with her toes tipped and lips puckered.

"You don’t need luck,” he kissed her anyway. “How about another one outside for the good Colonel to witness?”

“Don’t go riling anybody up,” she cautioned as she took his arm and he began to escort her out to the waiting Jeep. “As much as it annoys us, I still have to spend the entire night with the man.” John shortened his strides to keep pace with her, going so far as to carry her purse and gloves on the arm she wasn’t gripping. A younger version of him might have guffawed over the image of the pilot carrying a patent leather handbag and white silk gloves. But he supposes the younger version of him would not have been able to look away from the woman on his arm long enough to notice. He was proud of the man he was today. Right there in that moment. Achieved his dreams of becoming a pilot and serving his country and leading men towards an aim that was worthy of it. Found a girl so special she was worth risking everything for. Worth loving so fully that he wanted to scream it out the window of his B-17 so the wind could carry the news to every corner of the world. He hoped his father was looking down, just as proud. Hoped his sisters wouldn’t try too hard to scare her off when they met her. Hoped his mother would love her as much as he did. 

“Lieutenant, you look beautiful this evening.” He had thought about calling her Cassandra, kissing the top of her hand in a sweeping bow but decided against it because of the way the younger Major was looking at her. The look of a man who would know no boundary in defending her. 

“Thank you, Sir. The dress is lovely.” Cass smiled genuinely and took her accessories from John when he offered them. “This is where we say goodbye,” she whispered. He dropped a kiss to the top of her nose and pulled her closer by the small of her back.

“I love you,” he said like a promise, “knock them fucking dead, Spook.”

“I’ll find you as soon as I get back.” She kissed him once more before untangling herself from his hold, his hand wrapping around hers and not letting go until the distance made it impossible for him to hold on any longer. He watched her go with a bittersweet smile. Happy she could have a night of luxury, whatever version of it this place could offer, and a pang of disappointment he wasn’t the one delivering it to her. 

Cass settled into the passenger seat of the Jeep and waved softly to John as Harding started the car and they were off. Tearing her gaze away from his slowly disappearing silhouette took all her effort but she managed after a few moments.

“Love? Quite the declaration in a time like this.”

“He means it too,” she muttered back as she focused on the scenery passing by them.

“You didn’t say it back.” Cass scowled at him and hoped the cold in her gaze would slice right through his offensive comment and draw blood from his skin. 

“Mind your own business, Colonel.”

She managed to stay silent the rest of the drive to the restaurant where they were meeting his counterpart, her mask slipping over her face with ease. 

“Lieutenant-”

“Get in, get out. I won’t get in your way as long as you don’t get in mine.” If he wanted to, he could scold her for talking to a superior officer that way. But, God, did he love that fire in her eyes right now. “Does that work for you?” she asked. 

“Yes, ma’am.” He even tipped his cap. “Shall we?” He offered her his arm and she assessed it for just a moment before gingerly taking it. It didn’t feel like the final piece of a puzzle on a rainy day. The moment in a novel where your every question is answered. The sound of recognition when you see an old friend. 

It felt like a mission. A requirement. A gap she was being tasked to fill. The motions were easy for her. She thought it would be hard after Will but maybe getting back in the mix was exactly what she needed. 

She thought of John as she walked into the restaurant, thought of him as she always did. Thought for all his loveliness at seeing her in this dress, she didn’t want him to see that the person she would become while in it. What the name Spook truly meant. How she became the word without a second thought. This was a piece of her she would always choose to keep from him. 

Cass flicked her curls over her shoulder as the British officer approached, his eyes zeroing in on her bare shoulder with no desire to constrain his hunger at all.

Yes. She’d keep this hidden indeed.