#now i am struggling with choosing warm colors bc it tastes better for my eyes

[oneroomjestershow]

JASGGKJGSDFJH

[vennilavee]

pink matter

pairing: levi x reader- grad school/boxer au (set in 2:58 AM//bare knuckles universe) summary: it’s levi’s birthday and you’re his present. word count: 4052 warnings: smoking (shisha), smut in the form of: oral (f receiving), fingering, grinding, oc is lowkey a pillow princess, oc cries (bc levi’s stroke game is too good), edging, spitting (dont @ me). 18+ !!!! a/n: ummm what can i say other than...happy birthday to my mans. and yes i listened to pink matter by frank ocean on repeat while writing this

Levi and birthdays were a tricky thing- he stubbornly refused to do anything over the top every year that you’d known him. His birthday celebrations have almost always been something that his friends have planned, or for the past few years, they’ve been celebrations that you have planned. His birthday fell during winter break, but this year neither of you were heading home. He was staying on campus for his internship and you were staying on campus to apply for jobs and give Levi company.

Besides, your family’s home wasn’t far from campus anyway.

He had had a boxing match earlier in the week, and had come out relatively unscathed with a few still healing bruises and welts over his knuckles. Despite your many attempts to dissuade him from underground boxing, none of them worked. He was good at it, great even, and he made more money underground boxing than he could ever hope to make at his internship. Besides, he had promised you that he was almost ready to quit.

You refused to let him splurge on you the way you knew he wanted to. If he was going to hurt himself to save up money for his mother, then every penny of his boxing money would go towards that. 

Levi could splurge on you later, as you often reminded him when it was late at night and he would voice to you how you deserve more. You scoffed at him, telling him that he knew you better than that. Besides, his kisses, his touch, his time was worth more than anything. Him coming back to you unscathed was worth more than a pretty piece of jewelry.

That didn’t stop him from getting you a beautiful gold necklace for your birthday. He needed to get you at least one thing for you to show off. You had protested immediately- you were both struggling for money, to make ends meet as graduate students. But he had silenced you- “Let me treat you just this once.”

And you couldn’t argue with that.

So today, you choose to keep Levi’s birthday lowkey, just how he prefers it. Just you and him. He’s spending most of the day at his internship, and then will be meeting Erwin and Hange for a quick drink. And then he’ll be having dinner with you.

He had asked you several times if you had wanted to join him for drinks, but you waved him off. Telling him to spend time with his friends, and that you’d go to his apartment once he came back.

Levi had kissed you goodbye in the morning, letting you linger over his chapped lips for a few minutes longer. 

You’re satisfied in letting him leave in the morning, as you had woken him up early with a birthday blowjob. The rest can wait until after he comes home.

You had given instructions to Erwin and Hange to keep Levi with them for as long as they could. After all, you had to finish baking the mini lemon tarts you wanted to make for Levi, make dinner, and get ready.

You were going to wear your baby pink satin-y dress. The one with thin straps. The one that Levi loved on you.

Anticipation floods through you as minutes tick by. You were multitasking- rolling dough, chopping meat, green chilis and vegetables up for the jiaozi and noodles that you wanted to make for dinner while checking the oven. Levi had given you his mother’s recipe for jiaozi, and you were eager to try it out.

Hopefully it came out as good as his mom’s.

You'd told Levi you’d be heading back to your own place to tidy up and fix up your resume, but really you had just snuck back into his apartment to start cooking with the spare key he had given you.

His kitchen smells wonderful and spicy mixed with sweet. A thin layer of sweat pools over your brow as you make sure that the broth is just right and the tarts aren’t too overdone. You’d even bought wine and whiskey- the wine mainly for you, and the whiskey for him.

Once the dough has rested for long enough, you add soy sauce, rice wine, salt and pepper to the meat and mix it. Then, you cut the dough into thin slices and add the meat filling to it. Before wetting the dough and folding the edges, you pull the tarts out of the oven.

Maybe you had prepared the tarts too early. Oh well, that’s okay.

You cook the jiaozi and pan-fry them, satisfied at the golden brown, crispy texture of them.

You make several servings of spicy Szechuan chili garlic noodles, to save as leftovers for tomorrow. You love noodles, and chili garlic noodles are one of Levi’s favorites.

Perfect. You still have around forty minutes left to get ready. If you move quickly, that’s all you’d need.

The small dining table in Levi’s extended kitchen is set with two plates, a glass of whiskey for Levi and a glass of red wine for you. You had strung more pink fairy lights around his living room and kitchen, giving the walls a faint, romantic glow.

Not that Levi knows what’s awaiting him. He’s not even expecting you in his apartment, but when he fumbles with the keys and sees the pink glow washing over his walls he knows you’ve been by.

But then he sees you sitting on the couch in his favorite baby pink dress with your legs crossed and a soft smile. You swirl your glass of wine at him expectantly, before setting it on the coffee table and greeting him at the door.

“Hey,” You murmur, smoothing out the wrinkles of his shirt with your hands, “Welcome home.”

Levi can’t take his eyes off of the red of your lips. He plants his hands over your hips, drawing you in closer to him. He traces over the curve of your jaw, eyeing the necklace sitting nice and pretty at the base of your throat. Levi dips his head to kiss your clavicle easily.

“Hey,” Levi drawls, “You all pretty for me?”

“No,” You roll your eyes, “‘M all pretty for me. You’re just an added bonus.”

“Even on my birthday?”

“Shut up,” You laugh, swatting his shoulder, “Go wash up. I made you something.”

Levi palms and smacks your ass generously, swallowing your soft sigh with his lips before ducking out to wash his hands. You watch him walk away from you, enjoying the way his dress shirt clings to his narrow waist and his broad shoulders. You ring your own hands in slight nervousness, hoping that he enjoys the food you prepared for him.

You know he will. But still, you like compliments and you’re not above admitting that.

You refill your wine glass, nearly jumping when Levi wraps his arms around your waist. His hands are warm against your belly, sending a bolt of desire through your spine.

“Started drinkin’ without me?” He murmurs, voice low in your ear.

“No,” You shake your head, “I had a glass as I was cooking. That doesn’t count.”

Levi’s hand slips up the slit of your dress, squeezing your thighs and trailing up your leg. “You made us dinner?”

“And dessert,” You mumble with a nod, turning in his arms and gesturing to the dinner table. Levi’s eyes soften when he sees the set up of the dinner table- two neatly prepared plates with steaming food. How had he not smelled it when he walked in? 

Probably because he was too taken with the scent of your perfume.

“It’s not much,” You mumble shyly, “But-”

Levi cuts your words off with a searing kiss, pulling you into his chest and cradling your neck. “It’s everything, angel,” Levi says, pressing his forehead to yours, “You’re everything.”

Your painted lips split into a bashful smile, and you push his hair out of his eyes to press a kiss to his forehead. “Happy birthday, baby.”

Levi kisses you again in gratitude, soft and chaste. His hands are rough over your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. He takes your hand and seats you in his lap in one swift movement, shifting you until you fit within the crevices of his chest.

You reach over for your plate and glass of wine, waiting for him to take the first bite of jiaozi. His eyes widen in appreciation, a soft hum coming from his chest.

“Tastes so good,” Levi murmurs, pressing a kiss to the back of your shoulder.

“Really?” You perk up, turning to look at him, “It was my first time, I wasn’t sure if I got them quite right-”

“Really,” Levi says, “Thank you for this.”

“Just wanted to do somethin’ nice for you,” You shrug, unable to stop the smile from spreading, “You deserve it, baby.”

Levi hooks his chin over your shoulder, patting your thigh to wordlessly tell you to eat with him. After a few bites, you admit-

“You’re right, I did do a good job,” You giggle, the noise almost high pitched with the addition of wine. Levi tugs your hand into his, admiring the soft lilac color of your nails as he takes a generous sip of his whiskey.

“You did,” Levi trails off flatly, nosing at your neck. You both finish your plates quietly with gratuitous sips of wine and whiskey in between respectively. The soft material of your dress is always within Levi’s touch- he loves this dress on you because it only just ghosts over the nearly hidden lines and curves of your body. 

He thinks it makes you look ethereal. 

By the time you finish your plates off, you’re feeling the effects of wine curling in your limbs. Making you a little more affectionate than normal, not wanting to let go of Levi’s hand. Always touching him, somehow.

Levi puts your plates away and washes them quickly as you box up the food for leftovers for tomorrow. “Hey, guess what,” You murmur, “I packed the bowl for us-”

You gesture to the living room, where your pink and purple hookah sits tall and pretty next to the coffee table. Your hookah has been your trusty friend for the last few years, and you had even introduced Levi to it. Your hookah has now made a home in Levi’s apartment as well. Even though you had taught him how to use it, he had slowly become the one to pack the shisha into the bowl whenever you both wanted to smoke and clean the water out. 

You claimed that the shisha would stain your nails. He had rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. You were such a princess, but you were his princess. 

“Oh wow, is it a special occasion?” He says dryly, with the arch of his eyebrow. 

“It’s just some guy’s birthday,” You reply without missing a beat, earning yourself a squeeze of your ass. You sit next to him on the couch, legs tucked under you and give him the hookah pipe to take the first pull.

He blows the soft tuft of smoke above your head before taking a deeper pull. A larger cloud of smoke floats out of his mouth. You’re mesmerized by the shape of his lips and the way he holds the clear plastic pink pipe in between his long fingers.

Levi wordlessly hands you the pipe after a few pulls. You lean against his shoulder and thread your fingers through his as you take a few generous pulls. Smoking from your hookah has become something of a stress relief for both of you- sometimes you ended your nights with a nice pack and just sat with each other. It was a good way to wind down after long days and long nights.

It was a habit you knew you might be growing too old for, but you’ll deal with that later. 

You start to feel a little lightheaded, a little tipsy and give Levi the pipe back. “Did you have a good day today?” You ask softly, cradling his cheek with your hand.

He hums, “Wish they were paying me more at the internship. But I’m here now.”

You understand his unspoken words- I’m happy to be here now.

“We’ll be okay soon, Levi,” You promise, “We’ll be outta here soon, baby.”

But for tonight, he only wants to think about you. Levi only wants to think about you, you in this pretty dress, you all pretty in his arms. So he puts the pipe on the table and drops the coal from the bowl, ignoring your noise of protest. Levi pulls you into his lap hastily, hands tight over your hips and wandering down to your ass.

“You should suck my cock,” Levi says bluntly, “It’s my birthday, after all.”

He’s only joking- really, he likes seeing the way you pout and protest at him. Like the princess that you are. “Levi,” You whine, “I did this morning, and I can’t get on my knees in this dress…”

“You’re right,” Levi muses, fingers tracing your sides, “This dress is too nice for you to ruin.”

“It’s your favorite dress,” You say. You’re proud of yourself and Levi finds it endearing. Levi draws you even closer and lays you over the couch with your back flat. He clasps the hem of the tight skirt of your dress and hikes it up to your waist and allows his fingers to graze the softness of your inner thighs. 

Fingers instantly thread through his dark, silky hair, tugging at his scalp. He groans into your skin, eyes fluttering at the feeling. Levi draws himself up over your body, slipping the thin, pink straps of your dress off of your shoulders and dropping kisses along the column of your neck. You tilt your neck to the side in your hazy stupor, giving him an eyeful of your glowing skin.

You’re so pretty.

Levi kisses the spot behind your ear, the spot that never fails to make you sigh his name airily. He’s intoxicated by you, the sweet smell of your perfume mixed with his cologne clinging to your skin and wrapping you both in a pink bubble. Levi cradles your face with his hand, drawing your eyes towards him.

You leave him a little breathless- far more breathless than after a difficult boxing match. None of that has anything on the way you blink at him with hearts dotted in your eyes, or the way your lips are swollen from his kisses. And especially not the way you trace the hard planes of his chest with gentle calls of his name. 

His eyes are blazing, adoration stamped in his grey irises. Levi ducks his head for a sharp kiss, drawing a loud whimper out of you when he puts a little pressure over your neck. He squeezes a little harder when you whine impatiently and lock your legs around his narrow waist.

His angel in pink is just full of surprises.

Levi could kiss you for hours, the soft, wet feel of your red lips against his is something he wants to drown in. He’s certain your red lipstick stains his skin, but he pays it no mind. He knows you’ll get a kick out of it, but right now, you’re only focused on peeling him out of his shirt. You toss his dress shirt on the other side of the couch, where it lands on the armchair unassumingly.

Levi hisses when your lips brush over freshly healed bruises on his chest, but he doesn’t mind the slight sting. Levi firmly pushes you back towards the couch, an excited gasp ripping from your throat.

You like it when he shows off his strength for you. Specifically, when he manhandles you a little bit.

“Be good,” Levi murmurs raspily, taking your curious hands in his, “You gonna be my good girl? It’s my birthday…”

You nod instantly, eager to please, “Y-yes. ‘M your good girl…”

“Then keep your hands to yourself, angel,” Levi says and you pout at him. But you listen, struggling not to touch him.

Levi pushes the top of your dress down and unclasps your lacy black bra in quick succession, your tits spilling out easily. Your entire body pulses when his lips plaster over your chest, his lips sucking and tongue soothing as he slides down your body. 

He looks up at you from in between your legs, pleased when your eyes are hooded. You’re doing your best to listen to him, to not touch him. Just because he said so and you want to be good for him. Levi hooks his hands around your hips, pulling you flush against his face. 

You buck your hips towards him and hope he doesn’t notice. He does, but says nothing, only pushing the skirt of your dress higher up on your waist. Leaving your legs bare and your clothed pussy in front of him for him to devour. Levi dots your thighs in kisses before his head disappears in between your legs and rubs his thumb over your clothed clit. He presses a kiss there and you shudder, wanting to run your hands through his hair.

But you keep your hands to yourself.

Levi hums when he finally peels your panties off and puts them in the pocket of his pants, not wanting them to get dirty. You choke at the action, feeling your face heat up. Levi spreads your legs apart, hiking them over his shoulders and licks your core teasingly. His tongue is so wet and warm that you can’t help but buck your hips for more with a whine. You tighten your thighs around his head as he gathers your wetness with his thumb and circles your clit in the same motion. 

You grip the sofa cushions in an attempt to ground yourself. Your thighs tremble at the first swipe of his tongue over your folds and when he continues to circle your clit. Levi sucks your clit and pushes a finger into your dripping pussy, and you let out a strangled sort of noise. He pumps you a few strokes, your walls already clenching around his finger.

And then he just stops. You whine in annoyance, your brow furrowed and your lips pursed together in a pout. He only smirks at you wickedly, adding another finger into you and holding still. You try to fuck yourself on his fingers, but he won’t have that.

“Thought you were gonna be my good girl,” Levi murmurs, palm flat against your hip.

“Mmm-please, baby,” You mumble, eyes beginning to fill with unshed tears, “I love you, please touch me-”

“Alright, angel,” Levi acquiesces easily. He only wants to please you, wants to maybe see you cry on his cock, come apart with his hand wrapped around your pretty throat. “You know I love you.”

Your eyes light up at that, pout dissolving into a soft smile. Levi kisses your thigh once more and dips his head in between your legs. You move your foot so it’s flat against Levi’s back for more leverage, letting out a loud moan when his tongue presses into your pussy. You rock your hips into his face, nearly choking at the sight of his dark hair in between your legs. 

You don’t even realize how lewdly you’re calling his name, as he grinds his tongue into you as if you’re the sweetest honey he’s ever had.

Which you are. Because you’re his angel. You do well with being obedient, not allowing your hands to graze any part of him. So he looks up from in between your legs, your wetness dribbling down his chin and gives you a look that makes your pussy flutter.

“Good girl,” Levi murmurs and ducks his head down once more. The soft praise shoots straight down your spine and Levi tastes it. He threads his fingers through yours and you gasp at his touch, squeezing greedily.

“You feel so good, Levi,” You babble, “Love you, I love you so much-”

You cut yourself off with a wretched moan when Levi presses his tongue flat against your pussy and strokes you with two long fingers in you. Levi knows when you’re close, when your thighs begin to tremble and when you start babbling to him as you are now.

He pumps you slowly, alternating between slow and fast as you gush for him on his tongue. Levi groans in between your legs, the sound reverberating through you and he eagerly laps up another wave of wetness. 

“Look at you, angel,” Levi murmurs, pulling his tongue away to play with your clit as he presses kisses on your inner thighs.

“Yours, ‘m yours,” You slur, “Please, baby, make me cum, I’m so close…”

And since you asked so nicely, the lilt of your voice coated with silky adoration for him and him only, he presses his tongue to your pussy once more. Your back arches instantly, thighs beginning to quiver when he sucks your clit and presses two fingers into you again. 

“Levi, baby, please,” You beg with tears gathering in the corner of your eyes and dropping down your cheeks, “Love your mouth, love you so much. Wanna be with you always, wanna give you everything…”

God, he loves you so much. The way your eyes water when you’re close, the way you wrap around him perfectly like this. There’s nothing that can compare to your softness meshing with all of his rough edges.

“Cum, baby,” Levi murmurs hoarsely, scissoring his fingers inside of you. He shifts so that he’s over your frame, his fingers still inside of you and kisses you harshly. You taste yourself on his lips, moaning into his mouth. You don’t have the strength to pull away as your orgasm is within reach once more. You clench desperately around his fingers before he’s about to slide down your body again but you stop him.

“N-no,” You mumble, “Kiss me, want you to kiss me.” You yank him down to you, pushing your lips to his impatiently as you rock into his fingers. You look up at him with your lips parted and with heated cheeks, as he rubs your clit with his thumb.

“C’mon angel, cum for me,” Levi says, a soft demand. The headiness of his voice and his blown out eyes make your toes curl. With another few rubs of your clit with his thumb, stars explode behind your eyelids, your heart is about to beat right out of your chest and Levi holds you steady as you ride out your high.

Levi slides down your body to lap up your wetness and you close your legs instinctively from oversensitivity. Your thighs jump at his sudden touch over your clit and you try to shove him away but he pulls off of you himself, hovering above you and settling in your arms.

You give him a dazed, happy smile. Levi licks his lips, letting saliva gather on his tongue and presses his thumb to your chin.

“Open, angel,” He breathes. When you part your lips eagerly, red lipstick long smudged, he drops a ball of spit onto your waiting tongue and watches the bob of your throat as you swallow eagerly. Levi kisses you, coating your bottom lip with spit, just the way you like.

You grin at him, a little messy, a little in love. Levi’s cock jumps as he looks at you below him.

“You’re messy,” Levi says fondly, cradling your cheek.

“You like me messy,” You wink at him and wrap your legs around his waist to push him down to your chest. He rests his weight on top of you and you can feel the hard press of his cock against your thigh. You grind into him teasingly, lightly scratching at his undercut.

“I made dessert for you,” You say forlornly, “Made lemon tarts. With blackberries on top.”

“Lemme have you on top and then we’ll eat your tarts,” Levi says, earning himself a smack to the chest. 

Levi carries you to his bedroom after that, and you don’t end up eating the lemon tarts until most of the city has fallen asleep and flurries begin to come down from the sky.

tags: @simpingmaize​ @captainchrisstan​ @alrightberries​ @bbygrgu​ @phen0l​ 

[kindiekritz]

Get Some Rest, Samurai...

Via Anon Ask; “because im also a sap for Johnny and V- How do you think Johnny would help V cope with a panic attack? Especially when its likely something he's feeling laggy echoes of himself if he's in her head during it? (hurt/comfort is a FAVE of mine and i have anxiety, can ya' tell?)”

B ro,, don’t worry anon bc same here, we are anxiety homies together 👏😔 - This is my first time writing for Johnny Silverhand! Trying to get back on the writing boat, (haven't forgotten my previous fic!) and there's nothing like simping for video game characters to get that inspiration flowing. Do let me know what you think! Johnny may be a bit too OOC in this, I may have gone a little bit overboard with the soft? Ah well, I hope someone will enjoy it regardless :P

Here is the Ao3 Link! :D

V’s time was running out. 

Every time the relic in their head would malfunction, every time they went into a coughing fit and the disgusting taste of metallic blood would fill their mouth, every time he would manifest himself in her head and V would catch a glimpse of his stupid fucking face…

V was reminded of the fact that their time was running out, and fast.

And despite the fact that they were doing everything in their power to stop the construct in her mind from completely destroying her from the inside out, that didn’t stop the fact that she still had to pay the rent. 

In fact, it wasn’t cheap coughing up the eddies to pay Rouge for her services, or having to pay for bigger and better gear that would keep her alive when dealing with Arasaka guards, hell, it wasn’t cheap to keep purchasing more and more bottles of Omega Blockers, the pills were the only thing that kept him from completely taking control. 

She found herself taking more and more gigs, trying to simply keep up with the extra costs of having a completely second personality living rent-free in her mind. But even then… she couldn’t find it in herself to reject or turn away people who needed her help, even if they had little to nothing to offer in return. 

It seemed as if her phone was constantly buzzing with calls and texts of people who wanted and needed her help. No matter where she went or what she did, people needed her services, people needed her time.

And yet, time was something that she had very little left of.

V was exhausted. The bags under her eyes revealed that she hadn’t slept in days, and she couldn’t remember when she last had a proper meal.

She was always on the go, she didn’t have time to take care of herself.

But as she groggily opened the door to her apartment, she thought to herself that… maybe, just maybe… she would finally let herself take a nice, long warm shower.

V was too exhausted to care about the possibility of Johnny potentially staring at her nude form as she stood under the running water. Hell, let him stare for all she cared! The thought of warm water running over her exhausted muscles, washing away the dirt and grime of the city… it was too appealing at that moment. 

She removed her weapon slung across her back, letting her beloved leather Samurai jacket slip off her shoulders and onto the ground, too exhausted to care about putting it away properly. 

The weight of the gun in her hands was normally a welcome and grounding presence for V when she was on a mission, the weapon in her hands keeping her safe from those who wished to do her harm. But now? It felt too heavy, unbearably so, as if the weight would make her topple over onto the floor below. The muscles in her arms were exhausted and spent. As she rotated her shoulder she heard the joints audibly pop. The consequences of pushing her body too far.

She would do anything for the physical ache to go away. 

As she stepped through the door to her armory and switched on the fluorescent lights of the room, her gaze fell upon someone already there, casually lounging atop her workbench and raising a cigarette to his mouth, pausing to speak before inhaling a deep puff of smoke.

“Damn V. You look like shit.”

She rolled her eyes at his comment, and made her way to her weapon locker instead, trying to ignore the weight of his gaze on the nape of her neck.

V fiddled with the combination, her foggy mind struggling to remember the correct numbers and the correct order, her fingers felt clumsy and uncoordinated as she inputs each digit. V cursed herself for making it so damn difficult, but eventually, she finally managed to swing the metal door open, proceeding to put her gun away amongst her collection of stored weapons. 

Johnny hopped off of the workbench, stepping towards V as she organized her storage, resting his metal arm against the locker, using his height to his advantage as he towered over her and confronted her. “No, seriously V, you look like shit. When was the last time you slept?”

“Fuck— Johnny, I dunno… A few days I guess?” V slammed the door of the locker using more force than necessary, Johnny already starting to get on her nerves, the last thing she needed was Johnny Fucking Silverhand following her around like a worried mother hen. V pouted and huffed, blowing away a stubborn strand of hair that had fallen across her face, then turning to meet his gaze, hidden behind wine-colored lenses, and asked, “Why do you care anyway?”

“You’ve been on edge all day, I can feel it. You’re like a string that’s been strung too strongly. I feel like you’re ready to snap at any fuckn’ moment, V.” 

She could feel his stare on her body and the tension in the room was beginning to suffocate her. He was poking at a sensitive topic for her, and he knew it. 

V stuttered, trying to find the right words to say as she couldn't bring herself to look at him in the eye anymore, instead choosing to halfheartedly push him aside and walk away, “Johnny… I’m fine. Really. I just— I just need a shower and a nap, that’s all.”

As V stepped out of the room, the weight on her chest seemed to grow heavier with each step. 

She wanted to crumble, she wanted to cry. 

She just wanted to wrap up herself in a bundle of blankets and cry into an order of takeout. One of those ugly cries that made snot dribble from your nose and your cheeks flushed and red.

She wanted— no, V needed to let everything out.

But… she couldn’t. She didn’t have the time for it, she needed to get back to work soon. Here were people that needed her help and there were eddies to be made. She would let herself rest when she’d gotten that damned biochip out of her head.

It was at that moment when V’s phone began to ring, the sound interrupting her thoughts and causing her to pause in her step.

Almost as if on reflex, she quickly reached into her pocket and withdrew the device, not even bothering to check the caller ID before answering, “V speaking, what do you want?”

“V, it’s Regina. I’ve got another report of a cyberpsycho attack…”

V stopped listening to the voice on her phone, too distracted by the crushing pressure on her chest and the fact that she had begun to tremble and shake like a leaf.

All she had wanted was a hot shower and a night in, was that too much to ask?

After weeks of dodging blades and bullets, running meaningless errands and tasks for just a few eddies in return, spending sleepless nights that left dark circles under her eyes, and going days on end without even seeing her fucking apartment, all she wanted was a night in.

Was that too much to fucking ask?

She could faintly register Johnny’s voice coming from behind her, an uncharacteristically concerned tone in his voice as he asked, “...V? What’s wrong?”

The pressure in her chest grew heavier by the second, her breaths becoming strained and labored as the increasing fear and dread overwhelmed her body. She gripped her phone tightly in her hand, glaring at the device with tears prickling the corners of her eyes.

“V? Are you listening? I said that there’s another report of a cyberpsycho near your current position, are you still—“

With a press of a button, she hung up the phone.

Johnny watched V, her form trembling and shoulders tensed.

In all of their weeks stuck together, he’d never seen his little merc look so small. A real juxtaposition when compared to her usual self; a real fucking hardass, she was the only other person Johnny had ever met that was just as bullheaded and stubborn as himself. 

As much as he teased her about it, Johnny knew one thing for certain. V was strong, V was determined. A damned force of nature and he pitied the bastards that stood in her way.

But despite the cybernetics in her body and the chip in her mind… V was human. V had her limits.

The facade she’d built up for herself couldn’t last forever, and Johnny knew it. He’d sensed the cracks in her resolve grow larger and larger with each sleepless night and after every exhausting gig.

But for a brief second, a thought crossed Johnny’s mind; 

V was fractured… V was broken… V was weak.

And with that thought, V finally snapped.

“I AM NOT FUCKING WEAK!”

V cried out, lobbing her phone at him. It phased right through him, instead hitting against the wall, shattering the screen, and sending the device flying into some unknown corner of the room. 

She froze, her eyes widening in shock, almost as if she couldn’t believe what she had done. The realization slowly setting in after the result of her outburst.

V’s vision blurred as tears welled in the corners of her eyes, she slowly fell to the cold floor, cradling her knees up to her chest and muffling her sobs in her arms.

Johnny watched as she sat in the middle of the room and sobbed. 

She didn’t let herself cry when Jackie had died, she didn’t let herself cry when Vic told her that she was practically dying. V didn’t cry as she carried Evalyn’s bloodied body, and V didn’t cry late at night when she was alone, and her chest felt tight and her throat choked up.

He knew it was coming, he could feel V’s emotions as they bubbled up and reached their boiling point. 

But what truly surprised him, was just how much it hurt him to see his little merc cry.

“Shit— V…” he nervously swallowed his throat, but try as he might, for once in his goddamn existence, he couldn’t find the right words to say.

Johnny didn’t like the way he felt. 

Johnny didn’t like the way she made him feel at that moment.

He didn’t like the way his chest tightened at the sound of each of her sobs. The way he felt so restless as he could only watch her curl onto herself for comfort. He couldn’t stop himself from pacing back and forth across the room, unsure if it was her anxiety or his that was setting him off. 

Johnny could almost feel V’s heart racing in her chest, the adrenaline flooding her veins, adrenaline meant to stimulate a fight or flight reaction. But when the pain and panic swelled from within her own chest, there was nowhere V could run, nobody she could physically fight.

All she could do was sob into her knees, desperately trying to hide her sobs and cries from him, but her own cries easily overpowered her. 

And because of him, she didn’t even feel like she had the ability to freely have a goddamn mental breakdown in her own apartment, even as she choked and sobbed, she tried to grasp onto the shattered remains of her facade. Was it for her sake, or for his?

At that point… neither of them knew.

V couldn’t stop her body from trembling. She tightly gripped onto herself until her knuckles turned white. But V didn’t notice. It didn’t even register in her mind.

She didn’t register the hot tears as they streamed down her face, the shuddering cries that caused her lip to quiver with each breath. She couldn’t recognize that no matter how hard she tried, her frantic breaths caused her lungs to feel as if they were on fire, incapable of delivering oxygen to her body.

V’s mind didn’t even register the fact that Johnny had stopped pacing back and forth.

Her mind cursed at her to get her shit together. V needed to wipe away those tears and she needed to get back on the streets. A moment of weakness could’ve gotten her killed in her past, and now was no different. 

But… the thought of standing up and leaving her apartment caused another fresh wave of sobs to rattle her body.

She was tired… she was so goddamn exhausted… 

“V…”

All she wanted was a night in. Was that too much to ask? After all of her hard work and effort, hadn’t she earned it?

“V, listen to me.”

Clearly, she hadn’t done enough if people were still calling, still demanding her presence. Clearly she—

V felt something warm touch her cheek.

Someone was there. 

Although her mind had stopped temporarily spiraling, she felt the wet salty tears dripping down her face, her vision was still blurry, and her cheeks were incredibly flushed. She must’ve looked… pathetic she thought. But regardless, she allowed herself to look up at the person who had reached out to her.

The cold of his metal rings juxtaposed the warmth of his hand, and as her eyes trailed up towards his arms, she caught sight of his familiar tattoos, but also an unfamiliar detail as she reached his face.

Instead of seeing her reflection in the lenses of his glasses, she was surprised to see his eyes staring into hers. Gone was any trace of malice or cruelty, instead his brown eyes reflected nothing but concern… an emotion she’d never expected to see from him.

Johnny. 

As her tearful eyes met his, he could’ve almost sworn that he felt his engram heart stop beating for a second. The tears rolling down her cheeks, the way her lip trembled with each breath. He didn’t know why the sight of V feeling so upset affected him so, he blamed her emotions, her hormones, whatever came into his mind. He hated the way she made him feel, he hated that she had this much power over him. 

But most of all, he hated the fact that he felt so powerless to stop it.

He would’ve gladly taken V cussing him out, he would’ve taken V nagging at him and complaining about the smell as he smoked in her apartment. He would’ve even happily taken V as she sang along to the car radio, something she’d originally done to get onto his nerves, but now it has become a sound he’s grown… to tolerate. Even sometimes… appreciate it. 

He wasn’t the type to comfort people like this, he was the type to leave as soon as emotions came into play, the countless amount of hearts that he’d broken in the past were evidence enough. Fuck, he didn’t know how to deal with his own goddamn emotions, blowing up Arasaka tower as revenge to deal with his grief, that’s what got him into this mess.

But as he wiped away a tear from her soft cheek with his calloused thumb… he wasn’t going to just sit there and let his little merc cry.

“V. You’ve done more than enough for this city than it deserves. You’re always running back and forth, trying to make this shithole a better place… all while trying to keep yourself alive.” He wanted to tell her that this damned city didn’t deserve her generosity, it didn’t deserve her hard work, fuck, this city didn’t deserve her.  

He didn’t deserve her.

And she didn’t deserve what he was doing to her.

“You keep spreading yourself too thin, you keep wanting to do shit for others, you keep wanting to help. But then you add the cherry on top — the fact that there’s a chip in your head slowly killin’ ya… You’ve got enough on your plate. You’ve earned a few nights of rest.”

V sniffled and tried to wipe away tears, her voice wavering as she spoke, “I-If I don’t keep goin’ if I don’t keep looking for a solution— I’m gonna die. Johnny, I don’t want to die—“

“V, you’re gonna end up dead long before the chip has an opportunity to kill you if you keep pushing yourself like this… You need to get some rest.”

He was right. As much as she fucking hated it… he was right.

She felt his metal hand cup her other cheek, the cool metal refreshing against the flushed skin, wiping away tears as he continued to speak.

“You’ve proven yourself enough to this city. You’ve proven yourself enough to me. But running yourself to the bone is not worth it in order to prove it to yourself. And you’re not alone V… as much as they get on my fuckn’ nerves, you’ve got chooms lookin’ out for ya, even if one of them is a fuckn’ cop—“

Through tears, V chuckled and playfully chided him, “Johnny…”

There it was… that little chuckle of hers that he was looking for. He wouldn’t admit it to others, he wouldn’t even admit it to himself, but V’s laughter never failed to make him feel something funny in his chest… it wasn’t like the high of drugs or liquor, but it felt just as addictive. It wasn’t like the adrenaline rush of a firefight or the rush during a show, but it made him feel just as excited and lightheaded.

He cleared his throat, trying to get his mind off of that feeling, and spoke, “Listen… all I’m saying… is that you’re not alone V. And although I don’t have much of a choice, whenever you need me…” he playfully smiled as his eyes met hers, “I’m always here for ya V.”

And that’s all it took.

In one moment to another, V wrapped her arms around his waist, knocking him on his ass from his previous kneeling position, and burying her head against his chest.

Despite sharing a head and body, somehow, someway, V always found a way to surprise him.

He groaned, the deep rumbles from his chest as he spoke making V settle in closer, anchoring herself to his presence.

“Fuck, V, a little warning next time would be nice.”

But even as he whined… he wasn’t complaining. Not when her sobs were beginning to fade, and she was instead chuckling at his expense in his arms. 

He ignored that funny feeling in his chest as his organic arm wraps itself against her body, his calloused hand rubbing circles against the small of her back, feeling her trembling begin to slow under his soft touch. Over time, her breathing began to even, and soon enough she was taking deep breaths as she recovered. 

Without even consciously doing so, Johnny’s metal hand found itself entwined with the strands of her hair, softly caressing as V’s eyes began to droop, and exhaustion began to overtake her body.

“V… it’s time for you to go to bed.”

“I’m fine Johnny, I’m—“ a yawn interrupted her mid-sentence, “I’m not even tired.”

“And I’m not buying it.” He chuckled as his arm wrapped around her midsection.

“W-wait Johnny what are you— Johnny!” In an instant, V was thrown over his shoulder as he stood from the ground, and she gripped onto him in order to avoid falling to the floor.

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m taking you to bed.” He chuckled as he felt her hand playfully slap against his shoulder.

“Fucking hell Johnny, a warning would be nice!” He could almost imagine her expression as he walked across the apartment, the way she would pout in exasperation.

“Just repaying the favor, that’s all.” He smirked as he reached her bed. Slowly setting her down from his shoulder onto the mattress below. 

“There. It’s time that you allowed yourself to get some rest, and not that weird shit you do where you sleep across the bed huddled in a little ball, but some actual sleep, under the covers and all.” 

“Fine, fine…” V slipped into a pair of nightclothes as Johnny had the decency to look away, and then slipped under the blankets, making herself comfortable. But before she drifted off to sleep, she called out, “Johnny?”

“... yeah?”

“I just— I just wanted to say thanks. Y’know, for tonight and all.”

“‘Course…” he stepped towards the bed once more as he spoke, “I mean, if I’m the one telling you that you need some rest, you probably fucked up somewhere along the way.”

“That’s true… judging from your memories, you’re terrible at following your own advice, Johnny.” She smiled at him, uncertain if the lack of sleep had made her delirious or if perhaps she was feeling particularly honest that night, but she spoke, “Y’know, if fucking up this badly was the catalyst for us to meet… I would do it all over again.”

He smiled sadly in return, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, his cold metal hand brushing her cheek as he did so. An action to acknowledge the words between them were best left unspoken and unsaid— at least, for now.

“...Goodnight V.” He tore his gaze from her as he turned to walk away.

“Wait— Johnny!”

She grasped his metallic hand before he had the opportunity to pull away.

“... stay with me? Just for tonight?”

With her eyes looking up at him, her smaller hand clinging onto his, causing his breath to hitch and his heart to race—

How could he say no?

“Fine, but just for tonight. I can’t have you thinkin’ I’m goin’ soft or something.”

Johnny slipped under the covers, and without even needing to be asked, he wrapped his arms around V, and she rested her head against his chest in return.

“Get some rest, samurai… the city will still be there waiting for us when you awake.”

-

Thank ya kindly for reading! I'm always down for some constructive criticism and I love to read any lovely comments about my fics. Do let me know if there are any mistakes, I don't have a beta reader for Cyberpunk just yet, so a few mistakes may have gotten away from me!

And feel free to send in asks/requests! I'm so in love with Johnny and V and I can spend hours thinking and talking about them aaaaa

[for-bucks-sake]

An Apron is Just a Cape On Backwards (Not a Superhero).

Pairing: Stucky x Reader Word count: 6K. This is a whole beast. I hope that’s not too bad.  Warnings: all the fluff!, some angst, smut!! (threesome, DP, fingering, attempt thigh riding.) ,some bad language, LOVE. And for the mad people who haven’t seen it yet: Endgame spoilers.  Summary: Everything was lost, but then it wasn’t. Reader, Steve and Bucky have to make up for lost time. Soon they find it not as easy as they thought, especially because one of them didn’t actually lose anything.  A/N: Some guy was annoying the shit out of me, trashing Steve and Bucky’s friendship, so I cheered myself up by writing a second part that literally no one asked for (also I might’ve written this only bc I’m obsessed with naming my fics weird shit). So this is part 2 of Missing Is a Recurring Theme! Hope you like it! (Also, I am a whore for artist!Steve.) **If anyone is interested, I actually have some spare time, so...Requests are open!

Gif is not mine.

“Hot Stuff Coming Through?” Y/n squinted to read the printed words on Bucky’s ridiculous apron, realization hitting her and she threw her head back, ringing laugh pleasantly filling the room, “when did you get this?”

Bucky was the only one standing in the kitchen. No sign of Steve. His growing hair was tied up on the top of his head in a failed bun, miserable strands of hair escaping it only to be coated with sweat and unidentified powders. Somehow, he managed to already severely stain the black apron and the breathable black t-shirt he wore underneath, spatula in one hand and a knife in the other.

“We got it yesterday,” he said innocent enough, flexing his impressive biceps in different poses, showing off his great new purchase. Y/n breathed, shaking her head, “Wait until you see Steve’s, and yours, of course! Which reminds me, get out of the kitchen!.” “You called me here!” She protested, hitting Bucky with the book she held; Oh, how she wished it wasn’t a paperback. “We’re working on a surprise for you, Darling. You have to keep your eyes closed, or at least stand with your back to us.” “Sure thing, Hot Stuff.” She chuckled, turning around just in time to face Steve going through the kitchen door, wearing a nearly identical apron, clear bag in his hand.

“I got the colors but I’m not sure we have enough blu-“ startled, he stopped talking when he saw her, just in time to hear Bucky’s loud demands he shuts the fuck up. “Colors? What are you two planning? It’s not even my birthday.” Steve gifted her with one of his loop side smiles, “I only said it to throw you off, sweetheart.”

He went around her and passed the plastic bag to the metal arm reaching for him in a sleek motion, pausing for a second above her head indecisively before  kissing the top of it. Bucky’s heart nearly skipped a beat.

Y/n touched Steve’s shoulder as a response, brushing the bare spot the white fabric of his shirt didn’t cover, it was somehow quieter than before.

Bucky cleared his throat, “hypothetically speaking, if we wanted to bake a cake.” Y/n opened her mouth, but was cut when he continued, “hypothetically! Do we really need to add eggs? Back in the day only flour and water were enough.”

“OH MY GOD.” She groaned at Steve’s amused face,

“So…Is that a yes?” Bucky asked again, looking genuinely lost,

“I’m out of here!” Y/n almost sang, stressing the the last words. She left the room, unlocking her phone while imagining the horrors said room is going to go through.

She stepped back, pulling herself closer to the kitchen space, but never entering - only her head visible - “I sent you a link, there are thousands of recipes for cakes. Just choose one.”

They looked grateful, hands petting their pockets, already looking for their phones, “thank you, doll”

She nodded, almost leaving again; “you sure you don’t need help?” She asked on a second thought, blinking and bringing her arms to her sides,

“We’ll be okay,” Bucky said, “besides, this is supposed to be a surprise, c’mon, let us do something nice for you for once.”

She bit her bottom lip and sighed, “Ok, whatever you want.” She stepped out of the kitchen again, “Just, please don’t paint the kitchen with food coloring, it’s going to be a hell to clean up.”

“I told you, there would be no colors involved!” Steve yelled after her, followed by a not so subtle snort from Bucky.

“I thought superheroes weren’t supposed to lie!” Y/n fired back, making herself comfortable on the sofa, opening the book at the marked page. She heard Bucky laughing again, this time joined by his partner in crime,

“Well, good thing we’re not ones anymore!”

Domestic really suited them, she then thought, and happiness might make her explode.

-

“Stevie, this is…I’m at a loss of  words. It’s amazing.” Bucky always did love to praise him, all the way back to the 20th century. He could feel him, soft man inside soft clothes, behind him. Breath warm and light on his neck, making the small hairs erect from the proximity.

“It’s not even finished yet, you really think she’s gonna like it?” Steve eyed his work, melting into Bucky’s touch as he wrapped solid arms around his waist, kissing his shoulder and humming into his skin.

“I know she will.”

Steve shifted his body, turning around to meet a beautiful pair of eyes, today more grey than blue; like ocean skies early in an April morning. It’s a little game he likes to play with himself - what did Bucky’s eye color resemble today? In all the years he played, he didn’t get the same answer twice.

“What?” The skies in his eyes chuckled along when Steve stared too long, the skin around Bucky’s eyes wrinkled, a pleasant reminder of how his life had changed, laughter so acquainted with his face it decided to leave a permanent mark.

“Nothin’.” Steve smiled at the thought, feeling the hands around his middle tightened, “I just love you.”

Bucky licked his lips, gaze falling quickly to a pink, delicious mouth he could never resist. Their breaths were heavy, warm, mixing in the small space between them until Steve reached for his hair, resting his elbows on Bucky’s broad shoulders as he found his bun, fingers digging into it, messing it up impossible more, strands of hair falling to frame his face.

“Steve,” Bucky swallowed, nose brushing against nose, so close to him, he spoke into Steve’s own lips.

“Yeah?” He breathed, teeth nibbling at Bucky’s bottom lip, beard grazing his smooth jaw,

“Kiss me.”

Their mouths connected, Steve’s hands still in Bucky’s hair, knotting and pulling harder, forcing him closer; Bucky gasped, head tilted right as he found a better access, his tongue moving slowly over Steve’s lips, sucking on the corner of his mouth. Steve panted Bucky’s name, releasing one of his hands from his hair and bringing it to cup his jaw; right hand pulling his chin up, allowing Steve to trace his tongue on the warmth of Bucky’s, pressing his teeth lightly into his lower lip. 

They smelled like baking, with the faintest hint of sweat. Bucky’s pulp lips sugary to the taste, probably from all the bites he snuck into his mouth, ignoring Steve’s protests.

Metal hand soothed up and down his back, chilly material still unusual to the skin even through a t-shirt. Steve leaned his back against the counter, parting the kiss with a wet sound. Bucky smiled lazily, eyes hooded  as he nuzzled his face into Steve’s neck, fluttering kisses into his most sensitive spots,

“God.” He signed, brushing lips against the sharp edge of Steve’s jawline, “I miss your beard.”

-

Screams from the kitchen was all she heard before she threw her book to the side, cursing everything in the world she had to abandon the last ten pages unread.

Muffled swearing, a terrified “Steve.”, a burnt small and when she entered the kitchen, grey smoke.

“What happened?” Y/n asked, catching her breath but still very much alarmed.

“Nothing!” One of them said in an unnaturally high squeak she couldn’t recognize. Steve cleared his throat, “nothing.” He said again, more composed, fanning furiously the smoking oven along with Bucky.

Once the loud beeping sound stopped - smell still strong and unpleasant in their noses, but the black screen died down - they faced her, the epitome of innocence with their boyish smiles, posture hunched as they fiddled with their hands, looking astonishingly alike.

“We’re sorry.” Steve said, eyebrows furrowed as he struggled to look up, “it’s m’fault. I was so busy paint- working on something else I got distracted-“

“No no, we both know it’s on me, I should’ve-“

“I’m gonna stop you right there.” Y/n said, arms crossed against her chest as she cut them both sharply, they could be so serious sometimes. “All you did was burn half the kitchen! Lighten up guys.” She continued before they had a chance to speak, “there are no faults, I’m not mad.” She smiled, as to convince them she was telling the truth.

Both men exhaled at the same time, relieved the mess they made wasn’t gonna get them in trouble. “I can’t be mad at you, c’mon.” Y/n said wholeheartedly, bringing her arms to the side and walking forward, nudging their shoulders as to cheer them up, “I’m just upset you worked all day for nothing.” She sighed, searching for their hands, she took Bucky’s metallic palm in her right, and Steve’s in her left.

“It’s not entirely for nothing.” Bucky motioned, cupping her face, calloused flesh holding delicate features. He smiled at her, then at Steve, standing inside their impromptu circle made of limbs- “Now,” a dopey grin smudge his red lips, looking proud of himself, “we can get pizza!”

-

“You seemed a little too keen on throwing out all the food you’ve worked on, don’t you think? And look at the road!”

Bucky chuckled, stirring his gaze from her to the black sedan in front of them, “I’d much rather look at you, sugar.” He teased in a sickeningly sweet voice, y/n rolled her eyes, pretending to puke. “No one is moving anyway.” He hit the wheel in frustration, she swore she heard it creaks, “and for your question, darl’,” Bucky looked at her again, “I am extremely,” he stressed, “bummed out it didn’t work. And I mean EXTREMELY. Besides, it wasn’t the main surprise, Steve’s still working on it at home.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she huffed, gently touching his jaw and guiding it to face forward; he opened his mouth, tilting his head down to try and bite her finger, he grazed it with his front teeth and kissed it. Her smile turned to a loud laugh as a very enthusiastic driver honked his horn off behind them, universal way of signaling someone to fucking drive. Bucky didn’t have to look to see the “I told you so” all over her face.

“Shut up.” He muttered under his breath,

She pursed her smiling lips, looking innocent as ever, “I didn’t say anything.”

-

They drove in silence, Bucky hummed to the beat of her fingers drumming on the window.

“Is something wrong?” He said suddenly, making y/n jolt herself up.

“Is there something that should be wrong?” She asked, confused by the unforeseen question,

He sighed heavily, “with you and Steve…I mean.”

Oh shit. “I don’t think so, no.” She swallowed, picking at her fingernails.

“I thought superheroes weren’t supposed to lie.” Damn them, both of them and their way of knowing exactly what she feels.

“I’m not a superhero.”

“You are to me.” He said quietly, both looking intensely at the road.

“I’m not lying,” she exhaled, bringing her abused nails to her lips, biting, “it’s just… Everything is good, you know? Great. I love you, I love you both more than ever.” She shifted in her sit again, visibly uncomfortable.

“We never talked about this.” Her voice was quiet now, barely above a whisper, “I mean really talked about this. When you were gone…it was hard to keep going like everything was normal, so we somehow adjusted to a new normal, our normal. And then you came back, which I’m grateful for, everyday.” She bit her bottom lip, bringing her legs closer to her lap.

“I wake up and I see you, I see him, and I want to cry. Cry because I never thought I would be this lucky again. But when you came back we had to discover the old normal again, remember it, face the damage our previous poor way of coping did to us. Five years is a long time, Buck.”

She was holding her breath, Bucky could tell, the way she was holding her thoughts up until now.

He often forgot. He hated the feeling of memories disintegrating from his grip, in small, unnoticeable bits that he worked so hard scraping together. Most of the things come back to him eventually, the good and the bad. But this was a different type of forgetting; this time he had nothing to remember.

Sometimes it just hit him, when he watched them. How everything so drastically changed when he was gone. He saw it in the dark circles around her eyes, never seemed to fade or to brightened, no matter how much time had gone or how well rested she was. Sometimes it was in the new crease on Steve’s forehead, a grounding reminder that they, too, can run out of time. Sometimes he saw it in their faints attempts to wake up early for morning runs, can’t keep up even when they do. Sometimes it was in the hesitation in Steve’s eyes, every time he came in contact with her skin, almost afraid she doesn’t want his touch anymore.

For Bucky there was nothing to remember, but for them- there was too much to forget.

And he hated it, blaming himself in true Bucky Barnes fashion. Like he had any say on the matter. Sometime, he thinks that if he had, he’d tell them to move on.

Bucky’s life were hard on him, cruel, even - but they also taught him that time was invaluable. Precious seconds and moments had to be clenched on to, not be wasted, not be overlooked; that’s how he knew they should’ve let go. Instead of latching onto the memory of him, distant fading version of  the man he is in their minds, they could’ve started over, make their new normal a permanent one. They could’ve learned to love each other without him. They could’ve healed.

In a greedy, ugly pit inside the dark depths of his heart he was glad they didn’t, selfishness getting the best of him, thinking he might have killed himself if he woke up only to realize he doesn’t have anyone to wake up to.

Five years is a long time.

He gripped the wheel harder with two hands, nearly creating small valleys in the shape of his fingers, “He loves you.” He hushed, in a way that was almost intimate, like a secret.

“I know.”

“Sometimes I think he is going to break. He lost me so many times. Too many times in one lifetime. If he didn’t have you…He would’ve.”

“I would’ve, too.” Y/n whispered,

“I know.” He said softly, body loosen up as he spoke, “you kept each other together, you saved each other from falling apart. That’s love.”

She stayed quiet as Bucky found a parking spot, squeezing the car in a tight fit.

Her mind was roaming, she had a lot to think about.

“Let’s go?”

-

“God I missed this place.” Bucky beamed at the smell, his entire demeanor changes as they walked into the small pizzeria. Fresh dough was baking, a game was on on the beat up TV screen near the freezers, fluorescent lights planting small stars inside his eyes. Suddenly, y/n felt different, too.

They found their way between the tables, an old woman with a child were sitting to their right, a young couple to their left, some elderly men yelled at the television, heating up in a meaningless argument over the players.

They reached the cashier, first in line. His eyes looked tired, yet he treated them with a smile accompanied with a cheerful “what can I get ya?”,not letting the long shift get to him. “We’d like two large pizzas please, one with extra cheese…” Bucky’s voice faded as she dived deeper into her thoughts. His left hand was light on the small of her back, chilling the narrow strip of skin revealed when her t-shirt rode up.

Y/n looked around, tuning down the talking and the noise even more, only to catch a glimpse of a familiar face, now very less bearded, somehow younger looking. A small towel in a soft yellow hung from his shoulder, and the friendly smile that was always there didn’t disappoint, directed to her yet again. He nodded as their gazes crossed, an undisputed spark of recognition floating inside his eyes as he glanced quickly at Bucky.

The old man didn’t stay much longer, responding to the loud “dad!” calls from the back by returning quickly, not before he caught y/n nodding back, latching Bucky closer.

-

They drove in silence. Y/n trying to balance the square boxes on her lap as Bucky allowed himself to steal a slice, taking a bite every time they stopped at a red light.

“This is,” he announced with his mouth full, defying the quiet, “the best pizza ever!”

She chuckled, tightening her grip around the sides of the steaming carton, “save the declarations for Steve, I don’t really care for it either way.”

“You have to decide which side are you on!” Bucky said, finishing and swallowing his bite, looking at her, “playing both sides isn’t going to work any longer baby.”

“ROAD!” She grunted, momentarily losing her balance and falling forward, almost covering her entire sit with cheese and sauce.

“Y/n? You okay?” Bucky’s voice was concerned, and he was looking at her, again.

“I’m fine! Stop looking at me!” She moved, adjusting to a more comfortable position,

“C’mon now, you know I can drive us safely with my eyes closed.”

“I’m sure you can, you’ve had a lot of practice, too?” She scuffed,

“As a matter of fact,” he tensed, smiling sadly, “I have.”

They didn’t talk for the rest of the drive, and Bucky didn’t stir his eyes from the highway.

-

“Time for the surprise!.” Bucky announced after they sat down, eating wordlessly except from his occasional blissful moans, and Steve’s grumpy noises of disgust.

Y/n looked down at him, baffled. Her hands paused their continuant motion in the past twenty minutes. He sat between her legs, hard feelings long forgotten - placated by tender twining of fingers through his hair; chipped nails gently scratching his scalp and slowly descending to the top of his shoulders.

Steve looked up as well, tossing his pepperoni slice back to the box, willingly abandoned. “Sure. I’ll go get it.”

Y/n glanced at Steve, immediately bringing her gaze down to Bucky again, “C’mon, you really shouldn’t have.”

They both dismissed her, getting up and disappearing in the kitchen.

Y/n followed them with her gaze, despite her protests she was giddy with excitement, what it was didn’t matter - the thought of how hard they worked on it all day was enough to make her happy with whatever they made.

Blond head emerged from the room first, quicker than she thought, followed by Bucky- their hands bearing gifts;

Steve held three aprons, and what looked like a tray with a knife on it, laying next to something that was covered, she couldn’t see what it was.

Gently pushing the nearly empty pizza boxes, Steve placed the tray on the table, tossing each the matching clothes.

“Are we really gonna wear them?” Hers was different, printed colors all over it, and even in its folded state she had a vague idea what was on it.

“Open it!” Bucky clapped after he finished tying his behind his back. He was a little too enthusiastic. She caught a glimpse of Steve smiling conspicuously, can’t keep a straight face as she unfolded the apron, revealing a picture of a very detailed, hairy belly. Rolls that seemed like they were acquired by abusing the use of beer, and a pair of man boobs that horrifiedly were too similar to her own for her liking.

Both men howled with laughter, can’t contain themselves any longer when she put it on.

“Do you like it?” Bucky snickered, wiping tears from the corner of his eyes.

“You know what?” She raised an eyebrow, checking herself out, “It’s kinda growing on me.” How unbelievable it was that technically, those men were over a hundred years old.

“Good.” Steve tried to keep a straight face, failing miserably, “because you’re never, you’re never taking this off.”

“Oh, never? Not even for…?” Y/n bit her lips suggestively, looking at them as they looked at each other. She was just teasing, getting them riled up as a payback. She was trying to be funny, but their expressions weren’t as playful.

She stayed in her place, untying the ridiculous apron, unbuttoning her jeans and letting it fall down to her hips.

That was quick, she thought as they walked towards her in unison, trapping her between them and the couch.

Bucky pushed down the denim, letting her step out of it while he sat, parting his legs and pulling her down for a kiss.

Steve tangled his long fingers in her hair, smoothly pressing her against Bucky’s lips, deepening the kiss as she moaned into his mouth; Bucky groaned, hoisting her up on his lap, desperately seeking more friction. His metal arm clutched her waist with a force she knew was going to leave bruises, his other hand was holding her head in place, replacing Steve as he began to kiss her neck, sucking at the skin until it was red and angry. He smirked when she cried out, breaking the kiss only for Bucky to pull her back in. Steve licked at the ruptured blood vessels, soothing them with his tongue before he moved to a new patch of skin.

Y/n gripped Bucky’s shoulder, dire for even the slightest relief, grinding against his clothed crotch, using him to keep her balance. She was suddenly stopped when his arm held her hips steady, not allowing her to move.

“Uh, uh sweetheart,” She heard Steve rasping in her ear, biting at her earlobe, making her squirm under him, “you’re not getting off that easy.”

It was like they found their rhythm again, like buying a new record of old songs; they held her between them, undressing themselves and what’s left of her clothes, not even bothering to leave the couch.

Being so close to them was like a cure; nothing could touch her, nothing but them. She felt the weight of Steve’s lips on hers, tracing his soft tongue on her teeth, breathing lightly into her, opening her mouth for him. She didn’t need anything else.

Bucky found her right breast, bare and soft, with only the contrast of her hardening nipple reacting to his slow circles around it, only stopping to pinch her pink nub, rolling it between his fingers. He chuckled softly when her breath hitched, clinging to Steve’s naked chest and pushing her ass closer to Bucky’s cock.

She shifted on his lap, somehow; now facing Steve, mouth on his, and her back to Bucky, allowing him a better access to her sex.

Slowly, he lowered his hand, the cold of the metal meeting her heat, creating a contrasting sensation that made her whole body shiver with pleasure.

“Look at you,” he whispered in her ear, syncing the movements of both of his hands on her, “you’re so wet.”

Y/n hummed in response, hand shaping into a fist around Steve’s bicep when he caught her other breast, giving the same attention to it as Bucky.

“You’re so good for us doll.” He kissed the edge of her jaw, “Such a good girl, so wet for us.”

She groaned as Bucky slid a smooth finger inside her, slowly pumping it in and out, stretching her enough to insert a second finger between her folds.

“Faster, please.” She cried, mouth now free as Steve resumed working on marking her skin, sucking at her collarbone, allowing her to be as vocal as she wants.

“Steve, Bucky,” she bit her bottom lip, unable to divide her attention; Bucky moving faster inside her, thumb teasing her clit, and Steve squeezing her tits, bringing one of them to his mouth and scraping her sensitive nipple. It was all becoming too much.

Her hips buckled, breaths becoming more urgent as she moaned their names,

“Do you want to cum, darling?” Bucky asked from behind, not any less urgent than her, his cock becoming uncomfortably harder against his stomach and her ass by the second.

Y/n nodded furiously, swallowing a sob when a third digit entered her, “oh shit, I’m so close.”

Steve caressed her cheek, tracing the shape of her red lips with his thumb. She kissed it, taking it in her mouth fully, tongue spiraling its form and coating it with her saliva, hollowing her cheeks around it.

The heat rose to her face, knots tying up inside her stomach and going higher and higher, taking her closer to the edge.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Come for us.”

She didn’t know who said it, too caught up in her own pleasure, but it was enough; The waves of her orgasm hit her all at once, she moaned loudly around Steve’s thumb, as Bucky didn’t stop, riding her high with her, fingers still being pushed in and out of her, milking her of her pleasure with sweet reassurance in her ears.

Bucky kissed her shoulder as she came down, still sensitive when he pulled his fingers from her heat. He growled when he saw how drenched they were, the metal collecting a good amount of her juices, “Fuck, baby.” Bucky smirked, both men fascinated by her reaction to them as if it was the first time, “I always miss your taste so much.”

He brought two wet fingers to his lips, relishing on her cum, moaning in pleasure for how sweet she is. Steve shuffled closer, bringing himself so close he was sharing Bucky’s lap with her.

He bit his lips, hungrily eyeing Bucky’s forefinger, untouched, still dripping with her. 

Steve secured his hand around the metal wrist in a firm grip, waiting for Bucky to lick his fingers clean, and taking the third one into his mouth, sucking at it until there was nothing left.

Bucky swallowed, cock twitching at the sensation of Steve’s tongue on his body. The subtle reaction captured Steve’s attention, and he moved even more forward, squeezing y/n between them, her eyes hooded in a post orgasm bliss, renewed arousal starting to form in her core again when she felt the weight of Steve against her sensitive pussy.

“C’mere.” Steve motioned, voice deep from lust. Bucky swallowed again when he felt a tug at his hair, pulling him forward. Steve crushed his lips on his, the delicious flavor of y/n still on their tongue as they tasted it off each other, breathlessly exploring. Steve took a hold of Bucky’s thick shaft, stroking him from the base to the tip, removing the precum with his thumb and smearing it on y/n lips blindly, not breaking the kiss. She whimpered, eagerly licking it off.

Steve’s hips jolted involuntarily, forcing them to part, barely catching their breath.

“Fuck, Steve…Please.” Y/n moaned at the new friction, suddenly needy for more. He positioned himself farther, just in front of her entrance, teasing her with his tip, as Bucky parted her thighs, holding her in place.

She shifted, head shaking as she turned to Bucky. “I want both of you.”

His breath hitched in his throat, the clutch of his fingers tightening around her, “it’s been so long, baby. Are you sure you’re read-“

“Please? Bucky, Steve?” She was begging now, voice small, eyes pleading, the pink blush on her cheeks matched the scarlet color of her lips, reminding Bucky of a rose. The red tint casted a celestial shadow across her face, highlighting the splatter of freckles on her nose, her dilated pupils overpowering the color of her eyes. There’s so much self restraint a man can have.

“Okay.” He said hoarsely, barley able to control himself, “whatever you want, darling.”

She smiled, biting her lips to obscure it. She didn’t care it’s been years since they were both inside her. She wanted them. Needed them.

Bucky dipped his fingers inside her soaked core, coating himself in her fluids. She gasped when he pulled them out, slowly, his other hand was parting her asscheeks, searching for her entrance.

“Shh,” Bucky kissed her left shoulder, rubbing circles around the tight ring of muscles, using her own juices as a lubricant, “relax for me, baby.”

Y/n sighed, feeling Steve length on her folds, still not pushing inside her. He stroked her hair, leaving fluttering kisses on her neck, so different from the aggressive lovebites he previously left there.

She felt her muscles loosen around Bucky, slowly but surly opening her up for him.

“Buck.” She inhaled sharply as he managed to get a finger inside her. Steve was rubbing lazy circles on her clit, and she thought she’ll cum again, the familiar coil in her guts starting to form.

“Again already?” Bucky chuckled behind her, recognizing her rapid breaths and the clutching of her walls around him. He added a second finger, sliding inside her smoothly, “I guess we’ll have to pick up the pace.”

A couple of pumps later, and he pressed a third digit into her hole, it was a tighter fit, muscles resisting it at first, but he was persistent.

“So tight.” He exhaled, humming at the nape of her neck. Y/n opened her eyes, not realizing how hard she shut them, only to see Steve’s hungry look on them, devouring both of their naked forms.

She felt the fire igniting in the pit of her stomach, a softer pleasure washing her when she came, panting and hiding her face in the crook of Steve’s neck.

Steve chest vibrated with laugher, placing a hand on her back, “Are you okay?”

Y/n nodded, leaving the safety of his neck to look at him, words too difficult to form.

“We’re almost there,” Bucky reassured, gathering her newly found slick to coat his cock, pulling out his fingers. He moved himself to her entrance, stretching her painfully even with all his caution.

“Yes, just like that baby, you’re doing so good.” He praised her while caressing her arm, moving another inch deeper until his base hit her ass.

She let out a strangled gasp, shutting her eyes and correcting her breaths. Steve squeezed her palm, signaling her to open her eyes. She looked at him, already looking wrecked; “Are you sure, y/n? It’s okay if you-“

Y/n bit her bottom lip, smiling at him as sweetly as she could, “pretty please?”

The man huffed, letting out a low chuckle and placed himself against her dripping cunt, thrusting his hips into hers, gradually filling her up.

“Oh shit.”

It was always overwhelming at the first thrust. Being so full she forgot how empty she used to be. The stretch opening her up, reminding of something she hasn’t felt in five years. Right now, she might’ve felt complete.

She wasn’t ready, until now, having them both in the same level of intimacy like before. But this was so impromptu, so raw, so them; it was only natural for her to feel like herself again.

They stayed still inside her, giving her the time to adjust, already twitching, and she felt every inch of them against her damp walls, clenching around them, making it unbearable for them not to budge.

Y/n was the one to initiate. Recognizing how restless they grew, she rolled her hips, a whine escaping her lips just when Steve and Bucky moaned deeply, holding onto her.

She did it again, this time it stung less, her body getting accustomed to the presence of them inside,

“Y/n.” Bucky groaned, holding her hips in a steel grip.

“Yes?” She blinked at him, innocently.

“Stop that.”

“Why?”

“You’re hurting yourself.”

There was a pause, “I’m not, it’s okay.”

Steve and Bucky shared a look above her head, brief but meaningful. Steve pulled himself back slowly, stopping at the half of his length, only to pound into her again; she shut her eyes, her hands on Steve’s bare chest, feeling the flex of his muscles under it.

Bucky did the same thing- he drew himself out and pushed back in, knuckles tightening around her middle.

Beads of sweat formed in the valley of her breasts as they slammed harder each time, picking up a pace between themselves, moving in turns and then together, whispering words to sooth her pain.

Y/n was a mess under them, being so completely full, any discomfort long gone or replaced by pleasure.

“Guys,” she whimpered, “I’m close.”

Her eyes teared up, head shot back and met Bucky’s shoulder; she squirmed, able to taste her edge now. She couldn’t take it, her hips shifting involuntarily to the sides as they fucked into her.

They held her still again, nearly collapsing over her from how close they were, how good she took them.

She was the first one to come. Waves on waves of pleasure striking harder than before. She could taste her salty tears and hear herself screaming, nails clawing at anything she could find.

“Fuck!” Bucky grunted, hips thrusting into her repeatedly until he came inside her, leaning his head on her neck, holding her close for Steve to continue until he got his release.

“Shh, baby." Bucky whispered, “It’s okay, we’ve got you.” Steve rocked her body, crushing his hips into hers desperately, his eyebrows furrowed, cheeks rosy. He was close too.

She whined, clutching walls around him for the last time, not having any energy left in her to do anything else. Steve inhaled sharply, the tightness of her pushing him over the edge.

He spilled hot shots inside her, nearly collapsing on top of her in a tangle of sweaty bodies.

They stayed like this, not daring to move, still buried deep within each other.

“We forgot the cake.” Y/n laughed breathily.

“You weren’t supposed to know it’s a cake.” Bucky muttered, toying with a couple wet strands of her hair lazily.

“We kinda gave it up, Buck.” Steve admitted, “I’m pulling out, sweetheart.” He gave her a few seconds to prepare -say goodbye to the comforting warmth of the both of them surrounding her- lifting himself up using the arm of the sofa. In one slick motion he was no longer inside her, the sudden emptiness alien and unwanted. A mix of her juices dripped down her legs slowly, blending with the shots of cum Bucky left in her, too, as he mirrored Steve’s actions, removing himself from her hole.

It was awfully lonely all of a sudden.

“C’mon baby.” Bucky lifted her up as well, handling her as gently as he could, “let’s get you cleaned up.”

“No, no.” Y/n protested, “I wanna see the surprise.”

“It can wait for tomorrow.” Steve said, piling up the boxes on the table, cleaning up after them.

“You didn’t spend all day making it so I would see it tomorrow, show me.” She was stubborn, persistent, they knew too well it was a losing battle once she sat her mind to something. And she was already set on the couch again. They exchanged looks, sighing and sitting down to her sides.

“It’s not much.” Steve said, suddenly feeling self conscious about his work.

“It’s amazing,” Bucky reassured, knowing Steve isn’t going to uncover it himself so he did it instead, peeling the cover off to reveal it.

Y/n gasped, drinking in the work of art in front of her; It was a rectangle shaped chocolate cake, completed with white frosting evenly spread on top.

There was a painting drawn into the cream, light strokes of brush that only one person could create, a beautiful mess of blue and red, like watercolors fighting to create harmony between them. It was them, it took her a while to find sense in the chaos, but eventually she recognized three figures, fitting into one.

 Beautiful.

“Steve.” She breathed, “we’re never eating this.”

“We’re not sure how edible it is, anyway.” Steve laughed in relief, embracing her and kissing her temple.

“We are.” Bucky all but jumped on them, wrapping his arms around the two in an awkward yet loving hug, their laughs ringing together in a gracious melody, “It’s not.“