#sam and sharon make fun of bucky

[navybrat817]

Where Did the Time Go?

Pairing: Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You decide not to drink during game night, which leads to an interesting conversation with Bucky. Word Count: 1.6k Warnings: Light angst, tension, friends reconnecting, unrequited feelings (or so you think), slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning) Previous Part of AU: We'll Always be Friends A/N: More Dreamboat and Butterfly from my Reconnect AU! ❤️ Beta read by @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You weren’t sure what exactly happened between dinner and now, but you decided that the fun game night wouldn’t include drinking. You hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol since your meal. Even then, you were pretty sure you didn’t have much. Sharon brought out a bottle of wine before everyone finished eating and you took a sip of your glass out of obligation. If she noticed you didn’t finish your glass, she didn’t say anything, which you appreciated.

But you should’ve known that Bucky would catch on.

“Not drinking tonight, huh?” He asked as he took a seat beside you on the couch. Steve and Sam set up a game table and were already a couple of drinks in. So were Sharon and Natasha. You weren’t worried about them though. They could hold their liquor.

But can I hold my tongue if I drink? Or am I using that as an excuse?

“Not tonight,” you replied, holding up your cup of water. “Sticking with water.”

“You’re acting like we need a designated driver when we’re not going anywhere,” he joked, throwing his arm around behind the cushion, the same way he had at the dinner table. “Afraid I’ll kick your ass in Mario Kart if you get a little tipsy?” He asked, grinning when you smiled. “We can have a tournament? Just the two of us?”

“Hey, one of us might need to go on a liquor or snack run. You never know,” you said, setting your water on the table before you sank into the couch. “And it isn’t exactly a tournament if only two people are playing, is it?”

“It can be. We make our own rules,” he smiled as he moved a little closer. “Remember the time we had a tournament? We went to that shady looking liquor store after Sam spilled the last bottle of rum. The guy behind the counter had a bunch of clown masks.”

You laughed a little. How could you forget? “Yes! We had to open the living room window so we could breathe. And the cashier was actually a sweet guy, but you glued yourself to my side before that because you were certain the guy had bad intentions,” you said. Bucky and his protective streak made you feel important.

Until you weren’t.

Bucky must’ve noticed the change in your demeanor since he stopped chuckling. “Seriously though. Are you okay? Are you not feeling well?”

“I feel fine. I just don’t need to drink tonight,” you said, touched that he showed concern for you before a weird expression crossed his face. “What? Do I have something in my teeth?”

“No. You’re, um,” he tapped a finger on his knee as he tried to find the words. “There isn’t a specific reason you aren’t, is there? You're not…” he trailed off, but his eyes drifted long enough to your torso to fill in the blank.

You never understood the expression about eyes widening to the size of saucers until you experienced it just then. “Are you asking if I’m pregnant?” You whispered, careful not to speak any louder than that. The last thing you needed was the group questioning why Bucky asked such a question. “If so, the answer is NO.”

The sigh of relief Bucky let out, you weren’t sure what to make of it. “Sorry. I'm sorry. You don’t owe me an explanation for why you aren’t drinking. I just. I don't know why my mind went there.”

You couldn’t exactly tell him you're worried about getting plastered and revealing how you felt about him. Drunk confessions worked for some, but you didn’t think the odds were in your favor. “I still can’t believe you asked that,” you half teased, pointing at your stomach. “Not to mention, I haven’t been laid in ages. So, unless it happens via immaculate conception, that’s never going to be the case.”

The odd expression was back on Bucky’s face. What was his deal? “When was the last time you went on a date?” He asked with more interest than you expected.

“Months ago. Minimum,” you said, looking up at the ceiling as you tried to recall the exact day. “His name was Nick. We went on a few dates and he was nice enough, but he ended up getting serious with someone else. Haven’t gone on another date since.”

The clench in Bucky’s jaw almost made you smile. He had no reason to look so upset on your behalf. “I’m sorry. It’s his loss.”

“Don’t be. I’m kind of used to it,” you said with a nonchalant shrug.

“What the hell does that mean?” He asked, facing you on the couch and blocking the view of your friends at the table. “What exactly are you used to?”

Why does he sound upset? It's not like I’m not his girl.

“It means I’m used to guys not picking me,” you said honestly. As much as it hurt to think that way, saying it didn’t hurt as badly. “Think about it, Bucky. In all the time you’ve known me, when have guys ever flocked to me? When have you ever seen a guy take a chance on me when Natasha and Sharon were there? They haven’t and that’s just the way it is.”

“That’s bullshit. You’re perfect. And maybe people do see you, but you don’t see them,” he argued, quickly closing his mouth when he saw your expression. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“No, I think that’s exactly what you meant,” you said, sitting up to put some distance between the two of you as hurt filled his eyes. “I see just fine, thanks, but please enlighten me. Who saw me? Who did I overlook? I’d love an example.”

There was no reason to get so defensive, but did he understand how you felt? People gravitated toward Bucky and your friends. They always had. You, on the other hand, were on the outside of the house looking in. It was tiring to be the one knocking on the door.

“What about your old friend, TJ? You’re telling me he didn’t see you?” He asked, a hint of bitterness in his voice. It wasn’t a tone you heard from him before. It didn't suit him.

“TJ?” You asked, confusion written all over your face that you couldn’t fake if you tried. “TJ Hammond? My old family friend? Um, no, he definitely doesn’t see me.”

Not even close.

“He stayed at your place after Steve’s party,” he said, running a hand through his hair as he avoided your gaze. “Bet he couldn’t wait to see you. Probably went over the second you got back from the trip.”

Wait, is he jealous? What the hell?

You laughed a little, unable to help yourself when he raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, he did stay at my place for a bit after Steve’s birthday bash a couple of years ago. He had an issue with his boyfriend.”

Bucky did a double take, which would’ve been humorous if not for the stricken look on his face. “Boyfriend?”

“Yeah. The guy he dated at the time was a HUGE asshole and they had a falling out. His parents refused to let him go back home, so he stayed with me. And I couldn’t kick him out. He needed a friend,” you said, your brows pinching when you recalled how TJ cried on your sofa. It was a heartbreaking sight. “He has a new boyfriend now who treats him well and he couldn’t be happier. And I couldn’t be happier for him.”

Bucky blinked a few times. “So, you two. You never…?”

“TJ and I? No. Never dated, hooked up, anything,” you smiled with a shake of your head. “We adore each other, but in a brother and sister kind of way. I mean, we’ve known each other since we were in diapers. Even if I did find him attractive, nothing ever would’ve happened. You, Steve, Sam, you guys are much more his type.”

Bucky didn’t say anything, his face a bit pale. You worried for a second that he was going to get sick. “I thought you two hooked up,” he said more to himself than to you.

Where the hell did he get that impression?

“No, we didn't and we never will,” you said again before something he said dawned on you. “Wait, how did you know he stayed at my place? He asked me not to tell anyone where he was and I respected his wishes.”

Going through the dates again in your head, it wasn’t long after TJ stayed with you that Bucky brought Dot around as his new girlfriend. You knew you lost your chance to admit your feelings because he had someone by his side. Someone who wasn’t you.

“Come with me,” Bucky said, taking your hand and pulling you up from the couch before you had a chance to argue. It was hard to keep up with his long strides and he didn’t look back when Steve called after the two of you.

“What’s going on?” You asked as he pulled you outside and slammed the door. You watched as he took a few breaths, like he was trying to steady himself. “Talk to me, please.”

“I wasted two years,” he whispered, tilting his head to look at the sky. “Two fucking years.”

What is he talking about?

“I don’t understand,” you said.

“I made a huge mistake and I regret it,” he said, squeezing your hand as he faced you. “And I can't go the rest of this week without telling you. I wasted enough time.”

“Tell me what? Bucky, what did you do?”

And can we come back from it?

That literary edging. I'm sorry! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[ellemj]

Letters to Santa, Part 1: 12 Days of Smut #11

Bucky Barnes x Reader 2-Part Fic

Request/prompt courtesy of @stuckysbike:

Warnings: profanity, mentions of orgasms, allusions to smut, dirty letter writing, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: I wasn't planning to do any sort of multi-part stuff for this 12 Days of Smut thing, I wanted to churn out a bunch of smutty one-shots so you guys could have a lil Christmas meal every day. But when I started writing this today I kinda fell in love with the last couple of paragraphs and it felt so RIGHT leaving it the way I did. So, it looks like you guys will be getting part 2 of this tomorrow which will be s m u t t y and also a separate smut #12 tomorrow. Thanks to @stuckysbike for this amazing prompt that I’ve been thinking about for DAYS now.

Dear Santa,

All I want for Christmas is any one of the following, you can pick for me because I’m a little indecisive:

someone to unwrap me like a Christmas present

someone to give me a Christmas miracle (three orgasms in one night, if that’s not too much to ask)

someone to cum down my chimney

With love,

Y/n

            “Oh my god, this is perfect!” Natasha laughs out the words as she waves your letter around in the air. “We have to mail this. I need someone to find the address for the North Pole.”

            “Come on, Nat. Santa’s already put me on his naughty list. I’m not getting anything this year.” You say with a pout, pushing your bottom lip out.

            “It’s true, I saw her submit a half-finished mission report last week.” Wanda points out. You roll your eyes before leaning back on the couch and raising your nearly empty beer bottle to your lips. You take a long sip as Nat, Wanda, and Sharon continue reading each other’s dirty letters to Santa and teasing each other. You’re enjoying sitting through the fun of girls night like you do every Friday night, until you hear the elevator ding across the room. Just as you turn your head to see who it’s carried upstairs, the doors slide open to reveal Sam and Bucky. Sam opens his arms wide upon seeing the four of you piled together on the couch, clearly loving that he’s just stumbled into his first girls night.

            “Is this what I think it is?” He asks excitedly, quickly making his way over to the couch and seating himself on the end of the sectional.

            “A bunch of girls writing dirty letters to Santa? Yes.” Sharon reveals all. You shoot her a faux-angry glare.

            “Sharon, he’s a guy. You’re not supposed to tell him anything about girl’s night.” Wanda reprimands her jokingly. Sharon lifts her hands in surrender.

            “Hey, this is the first one I’ve been invited to, no one told me the rules. I’m also a little drunk, it’s not my fault.”

            Your eyes snap back over to Sam just in time to see him peering over Nat’s shoulder, trying to get a look at your very own dirty letter to Santa. You’re quick to scramble to your feet and snatch the piece of paper from Nat’s hand, narrowing your eyes at Sam.

            “If you don’t have a sled and…eight…no, nine reindeer, then this isn’t for you.” You say coldly, carefully folding the letter and setting it on the coffee table that’s littered with pens, beer bottles, and various snacks.

            “I could have a sled.” Sam offers, eyeing where your letter now sits.

            “You have wings, it’s not the same.” Sharon quips. As everyone continues to joke and tease each other around the coffee table, you’re sitting back and enjoying the nice buzz you feel from the alcohol you’ve consumed so far tonight. After another minute of listening to your friends have the time of their lives, you can’t help but feel like you’re being watched. You let your eyes float around from Wanda to Nat, then to Sam at the end of the couch, and then to Sharon. No one’s looking at you. That’s when you remember the silent sixth person in the room. You turn your head and look over your shoulder, finding Bucky standing in the kitchen, sipping from his own bottle of beer as he stares right at you. Any other person caught staring would look away. That’s the normal thing to do, right? But Bucky has never looked away, of all of the times you’ve caught him staring. Maybe it’s an alpha male type of behavior you could learn about on Animal planet, hell if you know, but whatever it is Bucky has it bad. Sam jokingly refers to him as the bionic staring machine and you’ve never heard anything more accurate. However, you’ve noticed lately that Bucky stares at you a hell of a lot more than he stares at anyone else. Is it wishful thinking? Maybe. You have no problem admitting that the man is annoyingly attractive, and the fact that he tends to be so quiet and elusive only adds to the attraction. Like they say, a crush is just a lack of information. If Bucky talked more, you’d easily lose your attraction to him. You’re sure of that.

            You’re lightly engaging in the conversation with Sam and the girls again, but you can still feel Bucky’s gaze burning a hole in the back of your head as you speak. When he finally silently slips out of the kitchen and disappears down the hallway that leads to everyone’s rooms, you’re relieved. You don’t know why you always find it so hard to relax around him. He puts you on edge for a reason you’ll never understand.

            “Okay, I think it’s time for everyone to get to bed. We have a full day tomorrow with baking Christmas cookies, the gingerbread house contest, and the Christmas dinner.” Wanda reminds everyone. She’s the first one to rise from the couch, gathering up the pens and blank pieces of paper to put them away. You’re quick to start collecting the empty beer bottles from the coffee table, trying to do your part. You’re so preoccupied with straightening up the small mess you all left in the kitchen that you don’t even notice Natasha tucking your dirty letter to Santa into the waistband of her pants. In fact, the dirty letter doesn’t even cross your mind as you finish up in the kitchen and head to your room for the night.

            Natasha thinks of herself as a matchmaker of sorts, or at least someone who’s good at reading chemistry between people. She might not know enough to say that two people are destined to marry and have a bunch of kids together, but she knows when two people would have a good physical relationship. That particular skill of hers is what leads her not only to steal your dirty letter to Santa, but to slide it under Bucky’s door as she passes his room to get to her own a little while later. What a devious Black Widow your best friend is.

---

            Someone to unwrap me like a Christmas present. Someone to give me a Christmas miracle of three orgasms in one night. Someone to cum down my chimney.

            Bucky has read the letter a total of four times, each time making his dick a little harder and his chest rise and fall a little faster. He stares at the bottom of the page where you so neatly signed your name. It’s the dirty letter you wrote just earlier during girls night. Bucky isn’t even questioning the fact that this is how the four of you chose to spend your evening. His only question is how and why your letter ended up sitting on the floor right inside of his door after he finished showering. Did you slide it under there yourself? Did someone else do it? Are you expecting him to give you one of these gifts?

            He sits on the side of his bed still staring down at the piece of paper in his hand, but he’s not reading it anymore. He’s thinking back to every single interaction he’s ever had with you, from the most minor to the most memorable. Hell, they’ve all been memorable. Every lingering look, every seemingly accidental touch of your thigh against his when you’re in the quinjet or in the conference room for a briefing, every damn word you’ve ever said to him. There’s always been some kind of a spark between the two of you, a clear sexual tension that was begging to be broken, but neither of you ever did a thing about it. So, why now is Bucky thinking about doing something about it? If you slipped the letter under his door, then it’s obviously something you want him to do. You gave him a fucking menu of choices. But if you didn’t slip it under the door, then who else has noticed the sexual tension between you two and decided that it was their job to remedy it?

            Someone to unwrap me like a Christmas present. Someone to give me a Christmas miracle of three orgasms in one night. Someone to cum down my chimney.

            Bucky folds the piece of paper into a small rectangle before placing it in the top drawer of his nightstand and taking a deep breath in.

All of the above. That’s what he chooses for you.

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[venusjaynie]

wish you were sober

Pairing: College!Frat!Bucky x Fem!reader

summary: you've had a crush on your roommate, Bucky, for a while, and after rescuing him from a party while he's drunk for what feels like the 1000th time, you finally admit your feelings.

Content Warning: friends with feelings situation, sexual tension, strong language, pet-names (angel, baby etc.), alcoholism, drunk bucky, parties, angst, fluff, mentions of puking (no actual puking)

word count: 2k

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"C'mon, Angel, please come with us?" Bucky asks, tugging on your arm. You roll your eyes, yet a playful smile toys at your lips.

"I said no, Buck. If you wanna go, then go. No one's stopping you. But I'm not going. I don't wanna deal with a tequila drunk Bucky Barnes all night." You tell him, gently removing your hand from his grip. His face falls immediately.

"I promise I won't get drunk this time. I swear I-" He's cut of by a loud laugh from Sam.

"Bullshit! You know as well as I do that you won't last 10 minutes before you're wasted, Barnes." Sam says. You agree.

"See Bucky, even Sam agrees. I'm tired. I'm not going, and that's final." You tell him, defiantly. "And don't you have that biology exam tomorrow?"

"I already studied for that! If you don't wanna come that's fine, but I swear I won't get drunk." Bucky remarks, a pointed look on his face.

"Even if I'm not there?" You ask.

"Even if you aren't there." You eye him suspiciously, but believe him nonetheless.

"Have fun, call me if you need me, yeah?" Bucky nods in response. He looks deflated, but bids you goodbye with a kiss on the cheek which absolutely does not make you blush, despite Sam's insistence that it in fact, does.

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

Turns out, you not going to the party was not final. After a few hours of you watching TV in the living room of you apartment, Bucky calls you, begging you to come and pick him up.

30 minutes and 3 rounds of shots, which you did not participate in, later, you're taking care of an extremely drunk Bucky. He smiling stupidly at you and is babbling about nonsense, while you try to coax him into the car.

"You'll never guess what Wanda said to Sharon-" He cuts off his own sentence with drunken laughter.

"Bucky- just get in- Jesus Christ, would you sit down and put the seatbelt on, please?" You say as you shove him into the car, being mindful of his head.

"And then-" He, again, interrupts himself with giggles. "And then Sam- he spilled an entire bottle of vodka right down Sharon's shirt! It was so fucking funny, babe. You shoulda- You shoulda been there!" He spirals off into another giggling fit as you finally get him into the car and he lets you buckle his seatbelt. You close the passenger door with a sigh and walk to your side of the car, sitting down and starting the vehicle.

The car ride is mainly silent, save for Bucky's occasional giggling or whining about something that gone down at the party. You stay silent, keeping your eyes on the road, and even in his drunken state, Bucky can tell he's fucked up.

He thinks for a moment, not wanting to anger you any further and make the situation worse.

"Angel?" He asks, somewhat quietly. You nod. "Are you mad at me?" He almost whispers.

You don't say anything.

"You're mad." It's a statement, yet he poses it as a question. He sounds so sad, you almost feel bad for him.

"And you're drunk." You say.

"What?! No I'm not!" He replies.

You sigh, before asking, "How much did you drink tonight?"

"Uh- I did, like, 3 rounds of, uh, tequila shots. I did the keg challenge- you know the one from Stranger Things-" You cut him off with an unimpressed look. He chuckles nervously, but continues. "That's irrelevant. I had, maybe, 2 cups of Jack and coke..." He trails off as you stop at a red light and turn to face him.

You sigh. "You promised, James." His eyes widen at the use of his first name, and he immediately knows he fucked up.

"I know I did. M'sorry. I just got carried away... again." He sends a resentful look in your direction. You turn away from him. The lights turn green and you continue the car ride to your house.

After a while, Bucky speaks up. "I-uh- I don't feel so good." He says, swallowing, hard.

"There's a bottle of water in the glove compartment. James, if you puke in my car I'm never speaking to you again. If you need me to pull over, tell me. We are not having another Fulton Street incident." You tell him, deadly serious. He takes the water from the glove compartment and sips it. Thankfully, he doesn't puke in the car, and you soon turn into the car parking area back on campus, which luckily, is close to the frat house you share with the boys and Nat.

Bucky gets out first, and stumbles and trips his way over to the path leading up to the house. Sighing, you do the same, minus the stumbling and falling, and make your way over to him. As you arrive at the front door of the house, you pull the key from your pocket, and the little keychain picture of you and Bucky clinks on the metal of the door handle as you open it.

Once inside the house, Bucky immediately goes to the kitchen. You take off your coat and shoes at the door, and follow him.

He's getting another beer from the fridge.

"Bucky, what the hell are you doing?" You whisper-shout.

"I'm getting a beer." He says, loudly.

"Lower your voice. Everyone else is sleeping." You say, almost irritated.

"Sorry, Angel." He giggles. He opens the beer and moves to take a swig of it, but you're faster than him in his drunken state and you manage to take the beer from him before he can consume anymore alcohol. "Hey!"

"You need to go to sleep, c'mon." You take his hand and practically drag him to his room, reminding him to keep quiet as you walk past the other bedrooms. When you reach Bucky's room, you go in to help him get ready, but he simply flops onto the bed and attempts to pull you with him.

"No, James, you need to get changed." He groans, but sits up anyway. You help him out of his clothes, and into a pair of plaid pyjama pants, but he refuses to wear a shirt.

"Alright, no shirt. Go brush your teeth. I'm gonna go back to my room, 'kay? Night, Bucky." You make a move to leave, but he grabs your hand before you can get very far.

"Don't go. Stay here tonight." He gives you his best puppy dog eyes, which he knows you can't say no to, and you roll your eyes, but sit down on the bed anyway. He grins cheekily before getting up to brush his teeth, not letting go of your hand and consequently dragging you in there with him. "There's a spare toothbrush in the cabinet." He mumbles, his toothbrush still in his mouth, and you reach over to grab the one he's talking about. As you're brushing your teeth, you catch Bucky's eye in the mirror. He's already looking at you, and before you look away he winks at you, grinning like the Cheshire cat. You can't help but laugh, and the faint tint of pink on your cheeks makes Bucky smirk and raise his eyebrows at you slightly. Even in his drunken state he notices those little things about you. He can't help it. He's infatuated by everything you do.

After brushing your teeth, you lightly pull at Bucky's arm to guide him to his bed, and he goes pliant at your touch. Before getting into bed, though, he goes to his wardrobe, albeit stumbling on his way, and pulls out one of his old jerseys for you.

"Here. You can't sleep in your clothes." You take it from him, thanking him, and you make a start to the bathroom until Bucky stops you. "Just change in here, angel. I think we've known each other long enough to get changed in the same room." He laughs as he says it, and you can't help but laugh too. You contemplate his offer for a moment, and then you remind yourself that he probably won't even remember this tomorrow morning, so you set the jersey on the bed and begin to undress yourself. You notice Bucky not-so-subtly watching you, so you clear your throat to get his attention.

"No peaking, pervy. Cover your eyes."

"Alright, alright. Don't get your panties in a twist." He uses his hands to cover his eyes, and you continue to get changed, and soon enough you notice that he's looking through the gaps in his fingers, but you don't bother to tell him you can see him, too tired to deal with that shit at 2am. You do your best to ignore his watchful eyes, but you can't, however, ignore the quiet intake of breath that comes from his direction when you take your shirt off, exposing your bra clad chest. Not wanting to encourage his ogling, you quickly slip the jersey over your head.

"Alright, you can look now." You tell him, and he removes his hands from his face and pulls back the covers of the bed, and you climb in beside him. You've slept in the same bed before, so being this close to Bucky shouldn't feel weird, but as you settle down in the bed and he shuffles closer to you, the feeling of his breath fanning on your neck, and the arm that's somehow circled your waist and pulled you into him all in the span of 10 seconds has you feeling slightly overwhelmed. You've had a crush on Bucky since you moved in with him and the others, which was a year ago. So being this close to him has turned the butterflies in your stomach that you feel when you're around him into a zoo enclosure of elephants and zebras and giraffes, and they're all chasing each other and causing your insides to flip around all over the place. It's fucking annoying. You're pulled out of your thoughts by Bucky's voice breaking the silence in the room.

"Thanks for tonight. Sorry you have to deal with this." His words are quiet, and you don't really know how to respond, because frankly, as much as you may complain about having to deal with Bucky when he's drunk, part of you doesn't mind taking care of him when he's like this.

"Don't worry about it. I'm your friend, it's kind've my job."

"Correction: you're my best friend." You giggle and he doesn't say anything else for a while, and you've closed your eyes, ready to sleep by the time he pipes up again.

"Angel? Can I tell you something?" You crack open one eye as he moves away from your back and turns you over by the hip in the process.

"Sure."

"I think you're really fucking pretty." He whispers it, and his face is inches from yours, and blood rushes to your cheeks while the elephants, zebras and giraffes in your stomach to backflips off the walls.

"You, uh, you shouldn't say shit like that when you're plastered."

"I know. But drunk words are sober thoughts. Isn't that what you told me that time I told Maddie I didn't like her when I was drunk and then she got all pissed at me and I blamed it on the alcohol?" You nodded at his question. "I really like you. Like, really."

"I really like you, too, but I don't wanna do this when you're drunk, so we'll talk about it in the morning, yeah?"

"Alright. Alcohol doesn't change how I feel about you, though." You smile at him, and he tilts his head up and kisses your forehead. "Night, babe."

"Goodnight, Bucky." You turn around again and his arm wraps around your waist as it did before, and he pulls you flush against him.

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The sound of Bucky's 8.30am alarm pulls you from your sleep. You slept well throughout the night, even though you ended up with a 6'2" hockey player lying half across you. When Bucky wakes up, though, he doesn't make a move to get off of you, and just makes his head more comfortable against your chest. You turn the lamp on beside his bed, and he groans, shutting his eyes even tighter and covering them with his arm, and you laugh at his actions.

"Don't laugh. I'm in pain." He says, dramatically.

"Oh, shut it. You're hung over. C'mon, lets get you some Tylenol and a coffee." He groans again as you try to sit up, and wraps both his arms around your waist to pull you back, and you're giggling at him again. "James, c'mon. It's 8.30. Your bio exam is in an hour and a half, and you need to be on campus in an hour to get signed in."

"Ugh, fine!" He rolls his eyes, but gets out of bed and goes to walk to the kitchen, and you stand up to follow him.

"Woah, don't get pissy with me. I'm not the one who thought it would be a good idea to get drunk the night before an exam."

"Shut up."

By the sounds of the conversation, it doesn't seem like Bucky remembers the confession he made last night, and you can't say you're surprised. The cuddling may have been an indicator that what he said was true, but the two of you have quite a touchy, almost flirtatious, friendship so it doesn't really confirm anything for you.

Bucky must notice that you seem lost in thought, and it's almost like he can read your mind.

"Hey, I remember what we talked about last night. We'll talk about it as soon as I get home, okay? Trust me, I wouldn't forget something like that." His words put you at ease slightly, and you nod, smiling. "And, for the record, I meant it. All of it."

You look up at him.

"Me too."

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this has been in my drafts for like 6 months ngl but anyways here you go <3

[evansbby]

𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 (𝒑𝒐𝒚𝒕 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark alpha!Steve Rogers x naive omega!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: noncon, dubcon, somnophilia, daddy kink, dark Steve, lactation kink, breeding kink, a/b/o dynamics, some feet stuff, oral (female receiving), 18+ minors dni!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Steve is horny but you’re asleep. That doesn’t mean he won’t have his fun...

(𝑨/𝑵): This is heavy with the somno, so please beware of that! If it isn’t your cup of tea, feel free to ignore and move on! 

It’s only 11 at night when Steve walks back into his house. Sam and Bucky are still at the party, but Steve had grown bored within an hour. The truth was, parties didn’t hit the same anymore. Just a bunch of drunk assholes and slutty cheerleaders grinding against each other in a dark haze of alcohol and weed. And as much as Steve tried to enjoy himself, his mind would always drift back to you.

His little omega, perfectly quiet and shy. Safe and sound in his bedroom (he’d locked the doors of the house before he’d left, lest you sneak out. Not that you ever would). Sometimes, he drags you along to these parties only because you look so deliciously uncomfortable and cling to him in the sexiest way. He also likes showing you off from time to time, knowing that the other alphas would kill to have you.

But mostly, Steve likes keeping you safe in his bedroom. He likes walking in to you studying on his desk or his bed, with your little Steve Junior under your arm. Wearing Steve’s old football jersey that completely dwarfs you, his mark on your neck peeking out from under your hair and reminding him of his complete and utter ownership over you.

Fuck, now Steve’s hard. He hopes you’re not asleep, because he can’t wait to sink into your tight little snatch, feel you squeeze around his cock like it’s your job. You’re always so ready for him, so needy for his dick and so snug around it, all weepy and grabby as your feral desire overtakes your shyness. Jesus fucking Christ, his dick is harder than a rock, and he all but sprints up to his bedroom.

You’re asleep. And goddamit, you look so fucking cute. Wrapped up in the comforter like a little burrito in the middle of his king-sized bed. Your head resting on Steve’s pillow rather than your own, and your Steve Junior teddy cuddled up in your arms. Steve feels his mouth quirk up into a smile before he stops himself – he’s no pussy simp! But you do look cute as fuck, so sweet and innocent. So different from all the other sluts he’s used to.

Slowly, Steve peels the comforter off your body before rolling his eyes because underneath that, you’ve covered yourself even further with your little fuzzy blanket that’s more ratty than it is fuzzy. Omegas and their damn nesting tendencies. Steve makes a mental note to order you a new blanket as he sheds this one off of you, only to be greeted by a host of stuffed animals covering your body in yet another layer that he has to get past.

“Fucking asshole toys.” He mutters, before shoving all your toys (except Steve Junior) into a haphazard heap on the floor, making sure to give one or two of them a hard punch in the face for being annoying.

And sure, Steve realises that his room is a lot more feminine now ever since you moved in – flowery bedsheets and stuffed animals everywhere and your beautiful perfumey scent covering everything he owns. But he doesn’t mind as much as he initially thought he would. When Sharon was his girlfriend, he never let her live with him but she would spend the night and try to mess with his stuff by putting her own things on his desk. Best believe, Steve would chuck her random shit in the trash, but you? You’re different.

“So fucking cute…” He murmurs to himself, watching you shiver and hold on tightly to Steve Junior, your nose digging into his fur and a sweet little frown on your face at the loss of warmth from the lack of comforter. He can’t help but stroke your cheek with his knuckles, loving how soft you are. So sweet and pretty and perfect. And most importantly, all his. Every inch of your body belongs to Steve, and it makes him so fucking hard.

“Baby, you have no idea how horny I am right now.” He tells you, continuing to stroke your face while you lay asleep on his pillow. He casually palms his dick with his other hand, already feeling like he’ll blow his load just from looking at you sleeping. “And look at you, fast asleep when you’re the one who gets daddy all riled up in the first place.”

“Steve?” You mumble, scrunching your nose cutely, and it looks like you’re stirring. But you only toss and turn a bit before getting comfortable again, and Steve resumes stroking your cheek for a while before his hand starts slipping down. Down past your delicate neck which bares not only his mark, but often also the imprints of his fingers after he’s choked you during a particularly rough fuck. Down to your chest, covered in his old jersey filled with holes.

He pushes the jersey up over your breasts, watching, almost hypnotised, as your nipples harden in the cool air. God, he loves your tits so fucking much, and you look so pretty all nude and bathing in the moonlight.

It reminds him of the early days, before he’d claimed you. Sometimes, he’d follow you home. Well, that ratty dorm room you called home. And it was all too easy to stand outside your window, watch you change because you were too dumb to draw your curtains. And those moments when you were bare, the moonlight painting you a pretty silver and you being completely unaware that Steve was watching you… Fuck, how beautiful you’d looked. And how hard Steve would cum every time he’d jack off to the memory.

Except not anymore, because now he has you in his bed. His own personal omega to do with as he pleases. Awake or asleep, it doesn’t matter to Steve – he owns you after all. In fact, you should thank him for being thoughtful and not waking you up. And a part of him does want to wake you up so he can fuck the living daylights out of you while you whine and cry all sleepily. But there’s just something about you, asleep and innocent, not knowing he’s watching you and touching you.

Fuck, he can’t help but lean down to suck your nipple. You’re practically begging for it, after all! Lying there with your nipples so hard they could cut glass. And you let out the cutest little whimper when his mouth latches onto one of your breasts, almost as if you’re having a dirty dream about him. Steve really hopes you are, because he has sex dreams about you all the time. He has ever since he first saw you.

“God, your tits are so sexy, baby.” He tells you as he squeezes and sucks. And Steve loves sucking your nipples, he could do it for hours if it was feasible. He loves how you card your fingers through his hair (when you’re awake, that is) and press his face more into your breasts while you whine like a baby. Sometimes, he likes to pretend you’re pregnant and he’s sucking your milk as you let him feed from you. God, that would be so fucking sexy – he can’t wait till he knocks you up.

“Mmhmm.” You mumble in your sleep, and Steve smirks against your nipple, licking and biting and grazing his teeth against it, sucking your whole breast into his mouth obscenely, wishing he had set his camera up so he could’ve got all of this on tape. And then he’d make you watch it tomorrow morning and threaten to post it online. (Not that he ever would, but he loves making you cry and beg).

“Daddy knows,” He tells you when he glances up to see you still asleep but your lips have formed the shape of an ‘o’ and there’s a tell-tale furrow between your brow. “Daddy knows what a dirty girl you are, how you like it when I use your body while you sleep.” He switches to your other breast, wanting to bite down hard but knowing you’d wake up if he did. He squeezes and pushes your tits together as he sucks obscenely, his hard dick poking against your leg through his jeans as he hovers over you. Damn, he can’t wait till you’re pregnant and lactating, and your tits would be so fucking huge and heavy when you’d breastfeed him.

“God, you’re teasing me, aren’t you, baby omega?” Steve lets go of your nipple with a pop, admiring his saliva shining all over your bare breasts. “You just had to look all sexy while you slept, didn’t you? It’s all your fault that I have to use you like this, baby. All your fault. But that’s okay, because daddy’s gonna make you feel good too.”

And with that, he continues exploring your body. Stroking and fondling and licking his way down your stomach, making sure to poke his tongue into your belly button. You shuffle a bit at that, but Steve holds your body in place and watches intently as you mumble something unintelligible before relaxing into deep sleep once more.

“Let’s see how wet your little baby pussy is, shall we?” Steve asks, and he can feel his excitement because his blood is rushing straight down to his dick. If he was hard before, he can’t even describe how uncomfortable his boner is now. Quickly, he undoes his fly and pulls his dick out, hissing in relief once his throbbing length bobs up against his abs.

He grabs your thighs, taking a moment to appreciate how soft you feel, before prying your legs apart. And he knows you’re not wearing any panties because he forbade you from doing so in bed. (He needs easy access at night and in the morning when he fucks you). And your bare pussy glistens in the moonlight and fuck, Steve feels like a salivating animal. He gets the sudden feral urge to mount you and fuck you so hard, fill you up over and over again with his seed while you scream for him to stop because he’s being too rough.

Instead, Steve closes his eyes for a second and savours your sweet scent. God, your pussy smells so good. It’s like your scent but amplified. And the best part? You’re completely soaked. He can’t believe just how wet you are, your pussy glistening in the moonlight as you lay all spread out before him. You’ve even dripped down onto his sheets, leaving a damp patch underneath you and Steve is utterly transfixed.

“Naughty little baby, look at the mess you’ve made,” he scolds, giving your thigh a gentle slap. He wants to hit you harder but he knows you’ll wake up if he does. “Look how fucking soaked you are for daddy.” He glances down at his dick which he’s slowly pumping with his other hand. Instinctively, he swipes the bead of precum from the head of his cock and looks up at your face wickedly, “Daddy’s hard for you too, omega.”

He rubs his precum on your lower lip, breath hitching at the sexiness of it all. And you look so pretty and sleepy, immediately licking your lips and moaning softly while he stares at you with wide eyes. “Mmm,” you whimper, and it’s the sexiest little whimper ever. And, as if things couldn’t get any hotter, your lips latch onto his thumb, sucking his digit while Steve swears under his breath.

“You’re a little freak in the sheets even when you’re asleep, aren’t you?” He marvels, letting you suckle his thumb while his dick throbs with need. “God, none of the guys would believe what a slutty little thing you are behind closed doors. Sucking on daddy’s thumb like a little slut? And after I’ve fed you my cum? Fuck, baby, you’re so fucking sexy and you have no fucking idea, do you?”

You don’t answer, of course, but you pout in your sleep when he removes his thumb from your mouth. He gives your cheek a few condescending pats before refocusing on your pussy. Fuck, Steve’s practically salivating at your sweet little cunt all splayed out for him, and you’re none the wiser while you sleep, clutching that damned Steve Junior in your arms.

It doesn’t take long for Steve to dig in like he’s a starved man. His lips immediately latch around your clit, which is puffy and swollen and so cute. He sucks hard, eyes widening when you let out the loudest moan yet. But then you settle back down, still asleep, and Steve continues as if he’s famished and about to start a five-course-meal.

“Your cute little button’s all puffy, baby.” Steve tells you, “I wonder what you’re dreaming about that’s got you all worked up.” He puffs his chest out, “Well, I know it’s me. And tomorrow you’ll act all innocent like you always do, and stutter all cutely as if you aren’t acting like a little whore in heat right now.”

And sure enough, you’re steadily grinding down on Steve’s face, unconscious as ever but he just loves the feel of your wet cunt against his face. Half of him wants to flip both of you over so that you’re sitting on his face, completely smothering him with your sweet folds while he bites and sucks and probes and brings you to one orgasm after another.

Instead, he continues licking you, loving how your thrusts meet his licks, and how your quivering thighs limply wrap around his head. He spits, watching his saliva pool around your engorged clit before he gives it another hearty suck. And fuck, he knows your body so well, he knows you’re about to orgasm because of the way you start panting, and how your knees try to lock around his head.

And Steve pulls away, because you’re his and he’ll decide when (or if) you cum tonight. And he loves the little pout your lips form into, and how you frown in your sleep and clutch Steve Junior harder. “Slutty little omega…” Steve murmurs before trailing sloppy kisses down your thigh. Stroking the smooth skin of your calf before he grabs your ankle, and his gaze shifts and eyes grow darker.

He’s still jacking off with one hand, the other holding your leg as he carefully examines the anklet he’d gifted you a few days ago. It’s a dainty gold chain with charms that spell out his name. Steve Rogers. He’d instructed you to put it on and absolutely never take it off unless he told you to. It’s another reminder that you are completely and irrevocably his, an omega who is claimed property, and his first before anything else.

The anklet is amongst the many different ways he plans to own you. First was his mark on your neck, of course. Then this anklet that spells out his name. And then what? Maybe a necklace with his initials? Or a tattoo above your pussy that firmly states: “S.G.R”? God, his dick twitches at the very thought.

But the anklet looks so dainty around your ankle, and he gets the sudden urge to nuzzle your foot up against his face, the feeling going straight to his dick. He can’t help but admire your pretty feet, how he’d paid for you to get a pedicure and they’d painted your toes a pretty white colour. Fuck, so fucking sexy. He presses a kiss on each toe before his lips trail downwards, leaving wet kisses on the pad of your foot before licking a tantalising stripe down the instep of your heel.

Your entire body jolts, and Steve can practically sense your pussy clenching and releasing more of your wetness to drip down on the sheets below. Your sweet fucking cream staining his sheets because your baby pussy is getting turned on by your alpha kissing your feet. Steve can’t help but smirk, and wonders how he’ll tell you this tomorrow.

He takes his phone out and clicks on the camera, recording while grabbing your other foot and repeating the same actions. Pressing little butterfly kisses on each toe while you wiggle and squirm in your sleep. And then he licks up your foot, gently sucking on your toes while he tries not to groan at how sexy this is.

He lets go with a pop, throwing his phone aside while he smirks down at you, “Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy that, baby. I know you did because I know what a slutty little girl you are.” He strokes your leg, “Don’t worry, daddy filmed it for my private collection. I’m sure you’ll love to see it tomorrow.”

He can just imagine how distraught and shy you’d be when he showed you the video, how you’d beg him to delete it. But he wouldn’t. He has almost hundreds of videos and pictures of you already taking up half the storage on his phone. He’s just so addicted to capturing you on film, addicted to how your naked body moves and responds to him. It’s fascinating, beautiful, so sexy and incredibly hot. And he can’t get enough.

Now, Steve crawls back up your body. And he knows he’s acting like a total creep, and that he could just wake you up and fuck you like how he usually does. But there’s something so vulnerable about you being fast asleep, and he’s nowhere near done playing with you.

You’re on your back, snoring softly into Steve Junior’s fur. But Steve gently manhandles you till you’re facedown, your stomach against the sheets and his favourite part of your body facing him. And he almost salivates at the sight of your bare ass, all cute and round and poking out at him as if you’re teasing him. As if you’re begging to be touched and groped and violated. (Not that it would be a violation, since Steve owns your body and can do with it what he pleases, and when he pleases).

He can’t help but give your ass cheek a firm little slap, watching with baited breath as you mumble something under your breath. Still asleep. He pinches and prods and squeezes to his heart’s desire, like your ass is his own personal toy. Which, in a way, it is. Under the dim moonlight, he can see his teeth-marks on your flesh where he’d bit you the last time he’d spanked you. He just couldn’t help it then, and his chest fills with pride now, hoping the mark will permanently mar your ass and remind you of who you belong to.

“Your sexy little ass is just begging to be fucked, omega.” Steve breathes, imagining how tight and sexy it would feel if he just shoved his dick up your ass. But instead, he leans down to give your smooth skin a light kiss, before turning you onto your back once more. And it’s crazy how deep of a sleeper you are, unperturbed by how he’s playing with your unconscious body which he jacks off.

“Steve…mhm…please…” You breathe softly, and the delicate sound goes straight to his dick. You were begging for his dick, even in your sleep. If that wasn’t the sexiest thing Steve had ever witnessed, he didn’t know what was.

“Oh. So you want me to take advantage of you while you sleep?” He tsks, giving your cheek another condescending pat. “What a naughty little girl you are, but I already knew that. You may be all innocent but that doesn’t mean you’re not a cock-hungry little slut when you’re under me.” He pinches your cheek and chuckles under his breath when you pout.

He carefully straddles your chest, making sure not to crush you with his weight. But now, he’s got his dick right above your sweet, sleeping face. He cant help but rub it against your cheeks and nose and forehead, making sure his scent and his precum is smeared all over your face. And fuck, he’s so ready to just blow his load.

“Slutty little omega…” Steve breathes, tracing the tip of his dick against your soft lips. And, as if on cue and by some fucking miracle, your lips part. Steve can’t believe it, “Good girl. That’s such a good little girl…” He praises you, inserting his tip into your mouth and watching in awe as you suckle it in your sleep.

“Mhm, daddy…” You moan sleepily, like a fucking porn-star or an actress at least. Steve is in complete awe at how whiny and needy you sound and it goes straight to his dick.

“That’s right, baby. Suck daddy’s dick like the obedient little slut you are.” He commands you, wanting to shove his whole length into your mouth but knowing he’d choke you if he did that. Instead, he lets you suck on his tip while he continues to jack off at the sight. With his other hand, he grabs yours and squeezes it, not really knowing why apart from the fact that he felt the need to do it.

He cums fast, and it’s no surprise since he’s been edging himself all this time whilst fondling your body. And he’s so used to cumming down your throat, that it takes all his willpower to pull out before he blows his load all over your face. And fuck, if it isn’t the sexiest thing in the world, your face coated in his cum, and you still don’t wake up.

“Fuckin’ cockslut.” Steve mutters under his breath, stopping to marvel at how beautiful you look before he gathers the cum on your cheek with his finger and slips it into your mouth, smirking when you suck it off obediently. Fuck, even in your sleep you’re obedient. He continues to feed you his cum until your face is somewhat clean (he leaves a bit of residue, something for you to wonder about in the morning). And then he climbs off you, something inside him compelling him to give you a soft kiss on the cheek for being such a good girl for him.

He takes a quick trip to the bathroom to piss and wash off before changing into a pair of sweats and returning. You’re still asleep, of course. It’s slightly alarming, what a deep sleeper you are, but you still look cute as fuck. You’re on his side of the bed, head resting on his pillow, and so he has to gently scoop you up and slip in underneath you before placing you down on his chest and covering the two of you with the heavy comforter.

“Steve? You’re home?” You say sleepily, cuddling up into his chest as his arms wrap around you. Your eyes are still shut and you seem to be half asleep still, and unaware of everything that’s just taken place in the past few minutes, but he can’t help but respond.

“Yeah. The party was boring.”

“Missed you.” You mumble softly into the hardness of his chest, and Steve feels a certain stirring deep down.

He yawns, “Oh yeah? I was only gone for a few hours.”

“Always miss you.”

And then you’re snoring softly once more, and Steve’s left to stare at the ceiling in pitch darkness. You’re still and content, cuddled up on his side and practically on top of him, with Steve Junior in your arms. Sound asleep. And Steve can’t help but hold you just a little bit tighter, and give you a soft kiss on your forehead, before he follows suit.

THE END! 

Please do let me know what you think! I know this is a drabble but technically it isn’t bc it’s like 3.9k words!! So please do give feedback and tell me what you think and reblog and all that good stuff! Love you guys and I love writing for this pairing!!! I was hesitant to write more in Steve’s POV but I just focused on his horniness and not on any emotional stuff!!! THANK YOU FOR READING BYE

[ramp-it-up]

Queen of Heaven

Pairing: Mob Boss! Bucky x Sex Club Owner! Reader

Word Count: 4K +

A/N:  This comes directly after Carnivores, Vegans, and Boy Scouts, Oh My! This is in the This Thing Of Ours AU   

Warnings: As usual 18+ ONLY; MINORS DNI. Not Beta’d, all errors my own. Woman centered Sex club, graphic depictions of sex acts, ex-free-use Sharon Carter, voyeurism, fantasies, kinks, fetishes, choking, breath play, masturbation, bi-sexual proposition, dp, sex with multiples, Switch reader, definite dom/sub play, oral sex (m/f recieving) use of pain as pleasure, Switch Bucky, restraints, slapping, spitting, explicit talk of topping Bucky, orgasm denial, cum play, use of ‘Puppy’ pet name.  Basically reader turns Bucky out, lol. This is PWP.

I no longer operate a taglist. Follow @rampitupandread to be notified when I post.        

I Do NOT consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

Two weeks after his first meeting with you, Bucky and Sharon Carter rolled up to a Tribeca hotel in a black SUV. His driver, Robbie, was also protection for his date tonight.

Robbie parked and Bucky stepped out, then went around and opened the other door for the blonde, who stepped out to reveal a black mini dress and steep black red bottoms. Bucky could tell that she wasn’t wearing anything else, and although it was intended to be alluring, it had no effect on Bucky.

But he played the game, smiling at her smirk as they headed into the lobby. 

“This is way outside of your wheelhouse, isn’t it Bucky? Are you sure you are not trying to give it a go again?”

Sharon turned toward Bucky and looked up at him.

Bucky stepped back and cleared his throat, establishing a boundary.

“Sharon, we talked about ground rules before we came. No. We are not giving “it” a go again. If that is a problem for you, we don’t need to go in here. Robbie can take you home. I’ll find another way to get in.”

Bucky’s face was serious, and Sharon’s smile dropped.

Sam, Steve, and Bucky each had a go at Sharon, and it just wasn’t destined to be along term thing. But that didn’t stop her from trying to get with one, or all of them, again.

“Robbie is my boy, he’s rescued me from more than one of your Valkyrie get togethers gone wrong in the past.”

Sharon looked wistful. Bucky almost felt bad. Almost. He knew how manipulative Sharon was.

“Listen Shar. You said you wanted to be friends. We are not a thing anymore. I know you love attention. Here is your chance. If we go in here, you can have some fun, and I can get what I need for Valkyrie. There is not going to be anything happening between me and you in here. Got it?”

Sharon batted her eyes.

“You don’t even want to watch? Sam loved it when we came.”

Bucky paused at that bit of information, but just decided to ignore it.

“Nope. You’re free as a bird.”

Sharon cleared her throat and smoothed her dress.

“Good. You won’t cramp my style then.”

“Right.”

Bucky took Sharon’s arm and steered her to the right, into the closed-for-the-private-function restaurant.

There was a tall man, dressed all in black, who was making sure of the identities of all who entered. After checking Bucky and Sharon in, he waved a long arm around the corner into the restaurant, where people, all dressed in black, are mingling, enjoying cocktails, and talking amongst themselves.

Sharon ordered a prosecco and walked over to a table while Bucky ordered bourbon. She picked up a card.

“This is the ice-breaker mixer portion of the evening. I’m off to find someone with a different eye color than I came with.”

She looked up at Bucky and into his blue eyes.

“See you later, Alligator.”

She smiled and glided away to a beautiful young lady with long dark hair and alabaster skin. 

Bucky reconsidered what Sharon said about watching as a short redhead sidled up to him. He put on a tight smile and answered the question that she read from the card.

“Ummmm. Reverse cowgirl,” he said absentmindedly, trying to be polite while scanning the place for you. 

After about 45 minutes of awkward mingling on Bucky’s part, the host called everyone’s attention and gave some ground rules detailing what was to be allowed in the clubhouse, which was not far away. The number one rule was that only women could extend invitations for sex acts. Men were free to accept or decline, or offer to watch, but nothing else. 

Sharon drifted back over to Bucky. When the information was disseminated, the host, who said his name was Utu, led everyone to the club which was just down the block. Bucky and Sharon walked in silence, each contemplating the possibilities.

Inside the club was dark and drenched in red lights. There was one angel, you, dressed in all-white. 

Bucky’s took you in. Your hair, which was pulled back the first time he saw you, was now a huge halo around your head, and your white leather corset was covered in buckles and bows. The garment seemed to be pulled tight to gather the soft looking globes of your breasts up nearer your face, which glowed with a light he didn’t see before. 

Those eyes of yours were glowing, and those lips. How he wanted to experience them. His eyes moved lower to the bodice of your dress, which was cut so low cut that Bucky could swear that he could see a hint of your areolas. That fact made him shift his stance and attempt to will down a sudden change in how his pants fit.

Bucky licked his lips as his eyes flowed down your body. Your dress fit your waist and then flared into a short train in the back, while the front hem curved upward and showed your generous thighs made more prominent and muscular by your high platform open toed shoes. Bucky stared at your white painted toenails and discovered at that moment that he had a toe fetish.

“Welcome to Queen of Heaven, Ladies, and guests.”

Everyone was mesmerized by you. Your eyes scanned the crowd and faces, hesitated when you saw Bucky, but then continued with what you were saying.

“I am Inanna.”

Your eyes came back to Bucky, your eyes meeting when you gave that name, knowing that he knew it wasn’t the truth.

 “I hope that tonight you begin to understand, and give way to your desires, whether with others, or on an individual journey to your true self.”

You locked eyes with Bucky and an electricity zapped between you again. Sharon’s head was on a swivel, watching this thing play out with you two. She cleared her throat, and that snapped you out of it. You smiled, and stepped aside for everyone to enter.

“Enjoy!”

Utu stood between you and the guests as they filed past, prohibiting anyone from coming near you. Bucky wanted to stop, but the eagerness of those around him compelled him into the club.

By the time Utu brought up the rear, you were nowhere in sight.

“Do you know her?”

“What?”

Bucky’s brain was scrambled; he’d forgotten his mission and could only think to explore his desires with you. Honestly, he’d forgotten that Sharon was there.

“Inanna?”

Bucky looked down at Sharon without registering her features. 

“I don’t know anyone named Inanna.”

Bucky’s face gave away nothing, but Sharon was a smart woman. 

“Right.” 

Bucky could tell that she didn’t believe him. 

“I’m going to go explore.”

Bucky gave her his practiced smile.

“Have fun.”

“Oh. I will.”

Sharon winked at Bucky and then disappeared.

30 minutes later, after low-key searching for you throughout the club to no avail, Bucky had gotten an eyeful of women who were seeking out their pleasures, be it by just watching, pleasuring themselves, light to heavy petting, and various sex acts with one or more partners of all genders and sexes. 

Every time Bucky came upon a man restrained in any way, his heart beat staccato. 

He thought of your suggestion to explore his desires. Normally, Bucky was the initiator in sex. It came with the territory because of his chosen livelihood. As a mobster, it was expected that Bucky would just take what he wanted.

But what if he just wanted to be taken? The moment that thought registered, Bucky’s world was rocked.

Bucky stopped to watch a woman ride a man, her hand around his throat, while another woman watched. The two women kissed as the man panted for air and smiled wide, blushing and flushed with pleasure. 

“Would you like to join us?”

Bucky looked down at the small brunette beside him, the same one that Sharon spoke to at the restaurant, and at the huge dirty blonde male who was with her. She was nestled in the crook of his arm as his hands roamed her body.

“We would like someone who wants to experience both of us. And us them. Are you interested?”

Bucky looked from the man to the woman.

“I’m flattered, but I am still exploring. Individually at the moment.”

The brunette tsked as she eyed Bucky.

“A shame. Maybe next time.”

Bucky hadn’t considered that there would be a next time. He was just here to confront you and to use the information for leverage to get you to sign the contract, but now… 

A passing waiter stopped and Bucky reached for a drink.

“Do you need anything, Sir?”

“Inanna. What does she do at the club? Does she participate? Where is she?”

The young male looked at ease in the black leather straps that comprised his uniform. His codpiece was large and Bucky wondered if he were on the menu for the female members as well. He wondered if you had broken him in. He wondered if the waiter gave you pleasure. He wondered what your kink was…. 

Bucky’s mind started to spiral as the waiter answered with a velvet voice that Bucky found oddly appealing. He wondered if there were anything in his drink or if it was the club. 

“Inanna is everywhere. I’ve never seen her participate, or been invited to her space, but there are stories. She mostly just watches.”

He indicated upwards and Bucky looked up to see cut out rectangles near the warehouse high black ceilings. He saw a flash of white and immediately understood.

You were up there. Watching everything.

When he looked back down, the waiter had disappeared.

Bucky took a drink and scanned the clubhouse. His eyes paused momentarily at the image of Sharon on a huge red bed engaged in double penetration with two muscle-bound males, one blonde, one brunette, while she sucked off another brown skinned adonis. 

“Hmph? Who would have thought?” Bucky said below his breath as he headed back toward the entrance.

He explored the welcome area more closely, and found a panel in the wall. He looked around to ensure that no one was watching, and opened it to find a flight of stairs, black but illuminated from below by red lights. He gulped as he looked up the staircase.

Your heart was beating wildly. Bucky was finally making his way up to you, and the anticipation had you wet. You would have thought that he would have figured it out before now, but you underestimated his curiosity. 

The way Bucky paused to watch people doing everything you wanted to do with him made you thrill. But he was taking too long, and you didn’t want to touch yourself tonight. You wanted him.

So you sent Paolo over with drinks to give him a nudge.

Ever since the encounter in your office, you felt things you hadn’t in years, if ever. 

Your mind would not stop creating made up scenarios of playtime with James Bucky Barnes. There was something about him that made you want to let down your walls.

The moment Bucky saw you upstairs, he knew it was over for him. Your scent enveloped him and pulled him closer to you. He took in your form, and all of his bodily systems ramped up.

You’d removed the train to your dress, which showcased your legs and as he stared at them, he decided he wanted to experience them close-up.

You watched James Barnes enter your space and stand there, sex on legs in a black and leather suit. His eyes roamed your body with possession and you watched him greet you, not with words, but with a full body expression of lust. You noticed his tongue absentmindedly poking around in his cheek; you decided that he must be thinking hard.

You decided to forgo the formalities.

“Why are you here, Mr. Barnes?”

His eyes finally met yours.

“Call me Bucky.”

You scoffed. 

“I most certainly will not. What the hell is a Bucky?”

Bucky chuckled, then came closer to you, taking note of your reactions. Your eyes told a story your demeanor did not. 

“I am here to ask you to sign the contract again. This little enterprise of yours would be very interesting information for some people. I’ll keep your secret, and offer the club protection, if you join our organization.”

Bucky circled you as if you were prey, and he couldn’t know how much that turned you on. You craved the primal, pure emotion of desire. He was taking you there.

“The terms of your contract are untenable. I am not a fool, Mr. Barnes.”

“Everything is negotiable. Inanna?”

He questioned your alias as he stared at your ass, which was a delicacy that he had to taste. You turned your head as he lingered behind you.

“See something you like, Mr. Barnes?”

Bucky circled back around to face you and licked his lips, that tongue snaking out and almost destroying your soul.

“As a matter of fact… I do.”

You moved forward, as if into his arms, but just as he was about to raise them, you brushed past him and seemingly floated to a bar in the corner of the room.

“Take off your jacket, Mr. Barnes, and we’ll talk.”

You indicated a yellow couch. Bucky looked at his phone and saw a text that Robbie was taking Sharon home, and Bucky was pleased at that. He took off his jacket and sat down, eyes scanning the room to view the toys displayed on the walls.

You brought him his drink and sat down beside him.

“What do you know about sex play? Kinks? Fetishes? BDSM?”

Bucky took another drink.

“I know the basics. What all those are. Safe words. But I’ve never really…not seriously…beyond the occasional girl with a Daddy kink… Never really used a lot of toys. Well. Not like these. My sex life has been pretty straightforward.”

Bucky indicated your room and you looked around. And then back at him.

“My sex life is pretty straight forward, Mr. Barnes. I either relinquish control, or I gain it from my partner. I am a Switch. Which means that I can be dominant.” 

You stared at him and he flashed back to the meeting in your office.

“Or submissive. Sometimes it depends on the day, the mood I’m in. Or sometimes I can be both within a matter of minutes.”

Bucky started breathing hard. He felt intoxicated, but he could usually hold his liquor and this was only his third drink.  

Must have been you. 

Bucky stood up, if only to maintain control. 

You noticed the bulge in his pants and smiled into your drink. You watched as he examined the toys that were on your walls, and the equipment built in taking the opportunity to roam away from you. He stopped at the restraints. He sipped his drink and looked up to see how it was connected to a track in the ceiling. You observed his curiosity. You could read him like a book.

“These look like they can move anywhere you want them in the room.”

His voice was plaintive, soft, and wistful.

“They can. They come in very handy in some scenes. Do you want to see how they work? Do you want to play with me?”

You put your drink down, walked over to the wall and raised your arms very slowly and deliberately. The invitation was unmistakable. Bucky almost fell to his knees, but instead took another drink and moved closer to you. He looked in your eyes and then up at the restraints, leaning close to pull one down. The crank of gears was a satisfying sensation that helped set the mood as he lengthened the chain to which they were attached.

Bucky opened the latch and enclosed your wrist in his large hand, caressing you with his thumb. This tenderness was unexpected and you normally wouldn’t have allowed it, but James Barnes was proving to be your weakness. 

He looked into your eyes again and then fastened your arm into place. The way you sighed and settled into being restrained made his cock even harder. He fastned the other wrist and witnessed a distinct change in your demeanor. You were definitely more relaxed. You looked up at him and he was under your spell. 

Those eyes had a hold on him.

“Thank you, Sir. My words are simple: green for good, yellow for caution, nearing my limit, and red for stop immediately.”

You looked up at him. And Bucky understood that he was responsible for you now. 

“Good girl.”

You trembled and bit your lip.

“Would you like for me to show you the range of the restraints?”

“Yes.”

You took a deep breath and stepped forward, Bucky walked backwards, not wanting to take his eyes off you. You walked around the perimeter of the room and Bucky stopped to watch you, observing your legs, your ass and your breasts which were slipping out of the leather bodice.

Bucky stood in the center of the room. He pointed to a spot in front of him. 

“Come here.”

You did as he asked and stood, waiting for a command. 

Bucky reached for your bodice and pulled the cups down, letting your breasts fully spill out. 

“Be still.”

Your body thrilled as Bucky lowered his mouth and licked each of your nipples, making them pebble against the air of the room. Then, he straightened and watched your face as he twisted your nipples with increasing intensity.

“What is your word?”

“Green, Sir. I’m used to clamps.”

Bucky slapped your breasts and pulled on your nipples, making you bite your lip and fluids leak down your thighs.

“I didn’t ask for all that information.”

You cast your eyes down, pleased at how this was going. Bucky jerked your chin up, then kissed you, mouth bruising your lips. Then he pulled back and his hand traveled down to your waist and around, squeezing your ass, and then back round to finger your folds through the leather. His fingers found snaps. 

“Eyes on me.”

Bucky slid down to his knees and carefully freed your lower body from the leather. Bucky looked up at you as he placed one thigh on his shoulder. Then he gazed at your most intimate physical part.

“I’ve wondered how you would look, feel, and taste down here.”

You bit your lip, but did not respond as his fingers reached up to feel your wet folds, and to dip into your heat. His eyes dropped with the pleasure of anticipation, then he looked straight at you.

“You are going to give me an orgasm, when I tell you. Understand?”

“Yes Sir.”

You whispered it. You’d never been this overwhelmed. 

Bucky pinched your clit.

“I can’t hear you.”

“Ah! Yes, Sir!”

You screamed it into the room and creamed on his fingers. He was fucking you with them now, and the only thing holding you up was Bucky’s strong hand.

Irrationally, you dreamed of running your hands through Bucky’s hair as his face moved into your creamy center. But you were restrained. And it was for your good. 

It would not do to fall for James Barnes.

Bucky maintained eye contact as he began eating you out. You tasted like pomegranates and the feel of your velvet innermost parts on his tongue was sublime. He could only imagine how you would feel wrapped around him. He wanted to take his cock out right then for some relief, but he decided to focus on you.

You watched, heard, and felt him lick, slurp and suckle your labia, cunt, and clit, and you gave him what he wanted quckly. And all over him.

Bucky stood up, taking off his drenched shirt, eyes on fire.

“Good girl.”

He reached for you and kissed you again, giving you a taste of you. He unbuckled his belt and you trembled, but he didn’t do what you were expecting. 

“My turn.”

He was leading you back to the wall.

“Can you let me experience the other side, Inanna?”

You didn’t imagine that he would assent so quickly.

“Oh, Yes, Sir.”

You smiled at him as he unfastened you. You stepped away from the wall and flexed your wrists, testing your flexibility. Bucky reached for your hands to soothe them and you shoved him against the wall, much like you did at your first meeting. Your forearm was against his throat, but your breasts were pressed against his chest.

“Did I give you permission to touch me?”

Bucky grinned. 

“No, Inanna.”

“Then don’t. Unless I order you to.”

“Yes, Inanna.”

“What are your words.”

“Same as yours, Inanna, Red, Yellow, Green.”

He was inordinately happy.

You slapped Bucky’s face, and you saw that tongue poking the cheek you’d just reddened.

“Wipe that fucking smile off your face.”

Bucky just stared at you, waiting for you to continue.

You pressed your forearm harder, and watched as Bucky gasped for breath. You released him and you could tell he was suppressing a smile.

“Hands up, Mr. Barnes.”

You stayed where you were, your breasts brushing against his chest and driving him crazy as you fastened him in. He craved you already and even though you were right there. Even though he was fastened to the wall, Bucky felt free. 

This was the best feeling ever.

You pulled Bucky’s zipper down and reached into his pants, finding more than suitable. You looked down and smile.

“Oh, Mr. Barnes. Looks like you’ve made a mess of yourself. Am I always going to have to clean you up?” Bucky stopped himself from nodding vehemently at the promise of more.

You dropped his pants around his ankles, hemming him up not only by his arms, but by his ankles as well.

You kneeled down and rubbed him from tip to balls, and extended your fingers behind, ghosting over his hole.

“Hmmmm. About nine inches. And thick too.” 

You looked up at Bucky, almost giving him a heart attack.

“I am pleased.”

You licked him all over, collecting all of the fluid on his cock, then you deep throat him, causing a low rumbling moan in his throat. You proceeded to give him the filthiest pep talk he ever had between your slurps and gags. Your fingers teased him to the point of delirium. He’d never felt like this before.

“Why do I want fuck you with my strap, Mr. Barnes?”

Bucky pulsed in your hands involuntarily at that. It was unexpected. You stood up and pulled his mouth open, spitting on his tongue.

“Swallow.”

He did as he was told and pulsed for you again, mouth falling open for you to kiss him.

“You like that idea, hunh? Getting as good as you give?”

You began to tug on his cock, stroking him for dear life as he whimpered under your control.

“Don’t worry. We’ll start with 6 inches. I’d bet you’d cum all over the place.”

Bucky buried his head in your shoulder as you jacked him mercilessly, afraid of his feelings about the situation.

“I’d go easy on you. At first. We could start with a plug. I’d have you, ass up on my bed, legs wide, while I lick that special hole of yours, and then push it in slowly. Then, I’d turn you over and then ride your cock into the sunset.”

You were stroking his cock and grasping his neck, feeling his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.

“D’you think you could you fuck me well enough? Do you have it in you to put it in me? Do you want to be my Puppy?”

This time, Bucky nodded.

You slapped him again.

“Can I use your cock for my pleasure? Any time I want?”

Bucky’s pupils were blown, and his mouth was open and gasping for breath.

HIs tongue came out and moistened his lips, his eyes on the point where your hard nipples were pressing into his chest as you stroked him.

“I’m going to fit you to my throat again. And you better not cum.”

Those words almost made Bucky cum on the spot and when he saw you on your knees, he wasn’t sure he was up to the challenge.

You worked and kneaded his balls firmly, careful not to hurt him, but just on the edge of pain. It was so much pleasure. 

“Mmmmmm. A cock ring. That is what you need to control yourself. Right Puppy?” Bucky would have agreed to anything at this moment.

You stroked him over your breasts, his tip rubbing your nipples and then you licked him from root to tip, plunging your mouth around him as you deep throated him again. Your tongue and throat were magic, Bucky went to stroke your hair, but his hands were restrained and he almost lost it.

The feeling was indescribable. He whined.

“Love to hear your cute little sounds, Puppy. So adorable.”

You spit on his cock and took him in your mouth again, pulling suction on his member and pushing him down your throat to make him dangerously close. Then you stopped.

Bucky’s whines and sounds were getting to you. You needed to get off again.

You peeled off your garment and lay down in front of him.

“I’m going to get off Puppy. You watch and you better not cum. Pay attention.”

Your eyes watched his jumping cock as Bucky’s eyes were plastered to your hands, which pulled at your nipples and circled your clit in tight, insistent, fast circles. You saw his balls draw up and his cock jack higher.

“Careful, Puppy. You don’t want to cum all over me right now. Don’t do it.”

You started inserting your fingers and all of a sudden your back arched and you squeezed your breast and your orgasm began. Unfortunately, so did Bucky’s. 

“Fuuuuccckkkkk!” 

Bucky roared. He had never come so hard before, untouched, and all over everywhere.

“Oh no… Puppy. You didn’t….”

You sounded disappointed as you played in his cum and Bucky pumped more spend on you.

You got up and walked into the adjacent room to take a 5 minute shower to clean up while leaving Bucky restrained.

While apart, both of you contemplated what just happened. You thought of ways to pump the brakes and Bucky was scheming on how to make you his. Both of you knew you were doomed.

You came out in a white robe and your hair tied up. You looked more beautiful than ever, and relaxed. 

You smiled at him as you released him from the restraints and handed him a warm towel.

“Clean up. You are welcome to use my shower. Unfortunately, because you did not follow my instructions, you will need to leave. Enjoy the rest of your night.”

Before Bucky could respond, you were gone through another door, leaving Bucky to quickly shower and dress, and make his way down the stairs.

He found himself out on the street, hearing the door latch behind him. He wanted to turn back around and pound on the door for you, but he just texted Robbie.

Halfway across the Brooklyn Bridge, a message appeared on his phone from an unknown number.

Let’s do business, I have some contingencies, but I’ll sign the contract. Call me tomorrow to set up a meeting. – Inanna

Bucky saved the number and smiled.

Sharon texted a moment later.

“Well? Did you get what you wanted, Bucky?”

Bucky ignored the text and asked himself, “Who the hell is Bucky?”

[sosa2imagines]

I know where I belong. Part 3

----------------------------------------------------- Warnings- Angst, Fluff ----------------------------------------------------- Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 -----------------------------------------------------

Two weeks! after two weeks you got the news the happy selfish couple made it official. You were still having trouble thinking, what could have gone wrong in your relationship with Steve, but Bucky was with you the entire time. He didn't leave you alone for a minute, he crawled onto the bed and slept with you caressing you to comfort while you cried to sleep.

You thought about numbing your pain with alcohol, but Tony kept all the bottles hidden from you, and even if you did somehow found one Bucky's glare was enough for you, to throw the bottle away.

So the team decided to use other methods. Tony send bunch of movie suggestions under the inspection of Pepper who believed he might have slipped porn. Nat and Wanda pampered you with ice creams and facial treatments, and internally you were thankful, the sorrow had ruined your face. Sam spoiled you with food and making fun of Bucky. And as for the said man himself, Bucky was being there for you by just being there for you, always by your side, making sure you take good care of yourself.

It's had been two months everything was going on fine, till Steve and Sharon decided to come back to live in the tower because of missions. He walked into the compound, hand in hand with Sharon. The whole group, including you were in the common room. You knew you had to face him someday, hopefully 20 yrs later? But no he had to show up within two months. You had tears in your eyes and you felt your heart shattered again. You quickly ran from the room and Bucky was hot on his heels behind you. Steve was stunned to see Bucky go after you.

Bucky locked your room and hugged you and you let him. "Talk to me Y/n." "I thought I could face him like after 20 yrs" you mumbled making Bucky chuckle. "Sadly, he is here, now" "Why is he doing this to me Buck? The moment I saw them the hurt, the pain everything came back" "Shh.. you love? you raise your brow at that word, making Bucky gulp, "You loved him", you nod listening to him, "It won't be easy for you, but we work together, so we have to deal with him, you have to face him." you nod your head and pout at him, Bucky laughs softly "How about this? You go take a nice warm shower, meanwhile I’ll order a pizza" "Okay". You let the hot water relax you, Bucky was right you had to be strong, you have to face Steve. When you got out you look at yourself closely in the mirror your eyes were not red and puffy anymore, and your face was looking fresh. When you came out Bucky had kept fresh clothes ready for you, seeing all this you realize you need to look after yourself, you need to move on and be strong, for you, for your friends, for Bucky?. Lost in your thoughts Bucky knocked on your door holding the pizza box "Hey" "Hey come in" you smiled and he sat at the edge of the bed, you curled up next to him and he draped his arm around you. "I’m sorry" he whispers after a few minutes you look up at him and shake your head "It’s not your fault Bucky, you are right I had to face him one day and not 20 yrs later" you both laughed. He smiles "Pizza?" "Yes please!", After eating in silence Bucky was about to leave when you grabbed his wrist, he looked at you "I'm just going go and throw the empty box out in the bin" you nodded. You both mostly slept together after the first few days you suffered from nightmares and Bucky took good care of you and indirectly looking after you helped Bucky too, it was the longest he didn't have any nightmares. Bucky came under the covers patting the space next to him, you immediately crawled next to him and rested your head on his chest and he started to play with your hair. "Tell me about your vacation", Bucky smiled and he told you everything, how the weather was, how nice the view was, how people didn't looked scared or made him feel uncomfortable. He even blushed thinking about how some girls were flirting with him. "Bucky I'm so happy for you! See I told you not to worry much. So did you get their numbers?" Bucky was red he shook his head no and you laughed, genuinely laughed making his heart flutter. "I missed you Buck not because of what happen, I really missed you, believe me Buck I can't live without you, you are important to me." As soon as those words were out of your mouth you bit your tongue and Bucky laughed softly blushing, he was genuinely happy to be back to you. Bucky was the glue to your foundation, he stood by you like a rock.

Looking after you gave Bucky a new purpose. He liked taking care of you. After all you both are best friends and friends look after each other right? Everything was going on fine for him until Sam had to open his mouth and joke to Bucky "Y/n and you look lovely terminator", Bucky scoffed unaffected. So why the hell did his heart flutter every time you laughed, his face turned red when you touched him or hold his hand. Why were you living inside his head and heart all the time! He blamed Sam but that can't be it. He then tried to blame the Winter Solider maybe he is being love sick, he choked on that word, red as a tomato. So why didn't he asked those random girls who were flirting with him out? Why he was so eager to see you? Maybe he should ask for help? Sam maybe? NO! he yelled to himself. Nat or maybe Wanda? Hmm or Tony? He was lost in his own world when FRIDAY alerted him "Mr. Barnes, Miss L/n heartbeats are irregular, she is having trouble breathing" Bucky panicked and rushed to you.

You were on your way to your room when you heard Steve and Sharon making out loud, your mind flashed you the imagine when you had caught them. "No no no no" you kept on repeating the tears running freely, you could barely breathe or hear Bucky call your name. "Bucky" your voice was low. "Y/N, hey listen to my voice" he sat next to you on the floor and cupped your face to get your attention, he places your hand on his chest. "You need to breathe with me okay try to feel my beats." You nod but breathing gets harder. "Listen to my voice, breathe in",  he inhales deeply, "breathe out" "Just like that Y/n. I want you to breathe for me". you nod.

After you breathing was back to normal Bucky asked "What happened Y/n" you motion him to Steve's room and Bucky was disgusted to hear their moans. Bucky carried you in his arms and took you to his room. Bucky gently laid you down on his bed and was quick to held you tight.

That night Bucky realized something and he vowed to work on it.

Unbeknownst to you both Steve had seen Bucky carrying you to his room and that made Steve's jaw tick.

----------------------------------------------------- Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 ----------------------------------------------------- (Part 3 is here I hope you guys like it comments and feedback is appreciated love you all ❤️ and in the next part we'll see more of Bucky and Reader 😊) -----------------------------------------------------

[stuckysbike]

I’ll Be Your Prize 2

A/n: All mistakes are my own. Written on my phone.

Bucky x Reader

AU: Bucky returns the favour with a surprise for you but it backfires.

Warnings: friends with benefits situation, idiots in love, presumed unrequited love. Sharon is a bitch (never meet your heros).

Part 1

“Oh my god I love her,” you clapped your hands.

“I know,” Bucky was smug, his eyes twinkling as he rested his socked feet on your coffee table. He looked good relaxing in your home, and it was moments like this that you almost asked him to stay.

“Can I come?” You hesitated.

“That’s why I’m here Doll,” he said squeezing your hand. “I knew you’d maim me if I didn’t bring you along.”

“And you’re in her music video?” You asked as you got comfortable on the sofa next to him. You rested your feet on his lap and he tugged playfully on your toes.

“Yeah, I don’t know much about it, Sam never consults me on stuff like this he just agrees with everything then sends me along,” Bucky said but he wasn’t annoyed. Sam Wilson was an amazing agent and a close personal friend.

“I can’t believe I’m going to meet Sharon Carter, I’m so excited,” you giggled again as you sipped your wine.

—————

The warehouse Bucky pulled up to was a hive of activity; there was so much to see that you almost tripped as you followed him inside.

Sharon was in the middle of it all, a tiny dress and towering heels making her stand out. She looked beautiful and you admired her good looks as you approached.

“You’re late,” Sam grumbled to Bucky.

“Sorry,” Bucky didn’t sound sorry at all. “Almost ran out of hot water.” He winked at you as he spoke and you giggled fondly, thinking back to the extra long shower you had shared.

“You must be Bucky!” It was Sharon making her way over to him, the heels bringing her close to his height.

“At your service,” his big hand dwarfed hers.

“I’m so excited to work with you,” Sharon said with a grin and a flutter of her eyelashes. Their eyes lingered, and Bucky’s lips curved up.

Your heart stuttered, suddenly you regretted being here and seeing this. They clearly had chemistry and you knew that once again you were going to be the girl on the sidelines, quite literally.

“Mr Barnes dressing room is this way,” and just like that he was pulled away with Sharon going back to the set. You hovered next to Sam for a moment feeling ignored and out of place.

“What now?” You asked, trying to cover the wobble in your voice.

“We just watch I guess,” Sam shrugged but he was already tapping furiously on his phone and you stood feeling lost.

—————

In the video, Sharon was to be a ring girl, and Bucky was the boxer. Cliche but believable you guessed, you were sure a few of the notches on his belt came from the scantily clad women who paraded the ring between rounds.

Sharon looked stunning as she posed for the camera, singing and pouting and Bucky looked like he’d already went a few rounds with an opponent. His chest was gleaming, the oil making the black of his tattoos stand out, and his silk shorts matched Sharon’s dress. You had to admit they looked good together. The perfect celebrity couple.

They were having a lot of fun, laughing between takes and sharing smouldering looks when the camera was on them. They shared flirty touches and suggestive smirks.

The video ended with him grabbing her and pulling her into a fiery and passionate kiss. Watching from the sidelines your chest burned, and you could barely look at them together. Everyone around you was discussing their chemistry and how they expected them to be a couple within weeks, how good it would be for the sales of the single, the new album and the upcoming tour.

“He could join her for part of it, come out on stage for this song, be part of the routine,” one of Sharon’s assistants was saying to Sam.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here,” Sam held his hands up but it seemed to fall on deaf ears. He looked at you with a frustrated roll of the eyes and you shrugged sympathetically.

“It’s a wrap!” Someone shouted and you watched Bucky get out of the ring then easily lift Sharon down. He held her hand, pulling her behind him excitedly as they walked over to where you stood clearly eager to introduce you but all you wanted to do was run away and hide. This was turning out to be the worst day of your life.

Bucky introduced Sharon to Sam but she barely looked his way, her eyes on Bucky. And then he pulled her towards you with a pleased grin on his face. “And this is my best friend.”

You heard your name fall from his lips but your ears were too busy ringing with the words “best friend”. Your heart fractured on the spot, you swore you were bleeding out, the damage irreparable. You were his best friend. Nothing more. That was it.

Sharon was looking your way now, her eyes roaming your body critically. You tried to act casual in your favourite faded jeans and scruffy Converse, “You must be a good friend to stand idly by all day doing nothing while Bucky works.”

“She’s the best,” Bucky grinned reaching out to pull you into a side hug, but you flinched away, and his eyes flickered in concern. “Are you ok?” He mouthed and you nodded in response. Luckily he seemed content to drop it.

“I’m going to go change, you’re coming to the party right?” Sharon said to Bucky with a coy smile as she rested her hand on his chest.

“Wouldn’t miss it, you’ll come too won’t you,” Bucky looked at you. You just nodded, not trusting your voice. He had told you to bring along a party dress earlier as you left your place.

“It’ll probably be more standing around for her,” Sharon said pointedly to Bucky.

“Sugarplum is a big fan of yours,” Bucky added. You could hear the fondness in his voice and you wished it meant more.

“Awww that’s cute, explains why you stood around all day waiting for a friend,” she simpered at you. Her smile was forced.

You just nodded in agreement but you liked this woman less and less. In fact you were beginning to hate her.

“Make sure to buy my album, and my single,” she said walking away with a sway to her hips. “I need to pay the bills somehow.”

Her belittling tone reddened your cheeks but Bucky was laughing. You glanced up at him but his face was unreadable as he watched Sharon go. You followed his gaze and couldn’t help but notice how good Sharon looked from behind. Of course he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“It has been a long day for you, let’s get changed and we’ll head to the party yeah?” Bucky’s brilliant blues were back on you. “Have some fun.”

“Sounds good,” you huffed out. He winked and walked off in the direction of the dressing rooms.

—————

The party was in full swing and you were sipping a glass of champagne when Sharon turned up almost two hours late and looking stunning.

You looked down at your dress, a favourite of yours. Bucky had always admired it, teased it went with the carpet in his bedroom. Bucky’s arm was around your waist, his fingers teasing little patterns on your hip as you chatted. You’d almost forgotten your day but with Sharon’s appearance it had all come crashing down.

Sharon made a beeline for Bucky, grabbing his hand and pulling him away from you.

“You don’t mind if I dance with your friend do you?” She called over her shoulder. You shook your head, you had already lost him and you knew it. There was no point in fighting it.

Bucky followed her like a lamb and you drained your glass and turned away from the sight. This would be the last time you were a third wheel or a bit on the side for him.

You loved Bucky you truly did, but you could no longer take the heartbreak. You needed a clean split, you decided or you’d go insane watching him and Sharon together. The best thing you could do now was slip away and let them get to know each other.

At the door you paused and looked back, finding Bucky easily. His eyes were locked on Sharon’s face as they stood at the edge of the dance floor and you turned, leaving the party.

“Heading off?” A voice startled you and you looked up to find Steve, Bucky’s best friend.

“You know what they say, threes a crowd and all that,” you shrugged.

Steve glanced towards Bucky and you saw a small tick in his jaw. He went to step into the party but you placed a hand on his chest. “Can you take me home. I rode with Bucky and I hate taking Ubers alone.”

Still protecting Bucky, his feelings and his reputation even when he’d forgotten about you. You were a fool and you needed to grow up.

By the time you got home you had a plan, and despite how drained you felt you started gathering all the bits and pieces of Bucky that had infiltrated your home.

His spare clothes from your drawers, wash products from the bathroom and books and trinkets that were in the living room all went into a bag. He had protein powders in the kitchen and a leather jacket hung on your coat rack with a pair of boots and trainers below.

It took an hour and afterwards you felt empty. Your home had gaps, you could already see them, but you didn’t have the heart to care so you changed, got into bed hugged your favourite plushie to your chest and pulled your duvet over your head.

—————

Sharon was an asshole, and Bucky regretted introducing you to her.

“I think you’re passing up a great publicity opportunity,” Sharon said. “You’ll not be a boxer forever and besides, it’ll only be short term. A year we’ll be together.”

Bucky examined her, this confident woman who was used to getting what she wanted. “You want us to fake date for a year?” He asked.

Instead of dancing Bucky had pulled her aside to talk, to say thanks but no thanks. Sharon was counter offering his rejection as if this were open for debate.

“No silly we’ll date. We can go on holiday and make public appearances, we’ll be a real couple,” she said slapping his chest. “Have real sex.”

“I don’t think that’s something I want to do,” Bucky said as he removed her hand.

“Think of your future. Your career. I’m about to be in a movie Bucky, I can get you a part and you won’t have to worry about your income drying up when you retire,” Sharon said. “You were a natural in my video.”

“Look, I’m flattered and you’re hot but I don’t feel that way. I love her,” Bucky said. He longed to go back to you, take you home. He was going to tell you tonight.

“Oh please, if you officially date her the press will tear her to shreds. Face it Bucky, she’s punching well above her weight when it comes to you,” Sharon looked into his eyes, searching his face.

“You know, I think she’s stunning. The girl you saw today was the woman I love, she‘s good and kind and I’ve not always been careful of her feelings but listening to you just know I know one thing for certain. There isn’t anyone else I’d rather spend my life with,” Bucky turned but Sharon’s hand on his arm stopped him.

“If she’s such a good friend, then why haven’t you noticed she’s been gone since I arrived? Went off with some tall blond beefcake,” Sharon’s smile was smug.

Bucky frowned. “Beard, long hair, blue eyes?”

Sharon nodded.

“Yeah that’s Sam’s husband Steve,” Bucky said as he headed to where Sam stood talking to a group of girls. “I’m going home Pal.”

“Smartest choice you made since hiring me,” Sam said.

—————

You found sleep impossible but the tears came easy. You laid with the pillow Bucky used last night in your arms and wept bitterly.

You didn’t hear your front door or footsteps coming up your stairs, but the bedroom door squeaked softly as it eased open.

You sat up startled and ready to scream for help and then you recognised the hair and beefy shoulders.

It was Bucky.

“I can’t right now Buck,” you said as you laid down.

“You kicking me out Sugarplum?” Bucky rasped.

Your heart clenched. “I can’t keep doing this,” you admitted.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise,” Bucky said as he stepped into the room. You noticed he’d taken his shoes off.

You smiled sadly. “I guess I was just happy I was getting something, but it’s not enough anymore.”

“I get it,” Bucky said sitting on the edge of the bed. “I realised something else though.”

“Do I want to know?” You whispered, feeling brave. You peered up at him, from this angle he looked tired and you wanted nothing more than to pull him in bedside you.

“I want you to know. Sharon asked me to be her boyfriend, told me her plans for the rest of the year for she and I.”

“Oh,” you bit the inside of your cheek. You didn’t want to know any more and you shifted away but Bucky reached for you.

“She assumed I wouldn’t say no, just like I assume you’ll be there every time I need you,” Bucky’s hand cupped your cheek, his eyes searched yours. “I need you all the damn time Doll.”

“I can’t-“

“I love you, been in love with you since forever, but our lives are so different that I thought you wouldn’t want to be in mine full time,” Bucky searched your face but you were too shocked to respond. “I know I’ll never be good enough but I want a chance to do my best to make you happy.”

“Not good enough?” You sat up. “What in hell gave you that idea?”

He shook his head and it was your turn to cup his cheek. He shook his head again, turning his face into your hand to kiss your wrist and you tabled it for now but you would press this later. You’d never meant to hurt him, you loved him from the moment you met him. “Tell me what you want?”

“I want you on press tours and at training camps and Christ even at shitty promotional activities like music videos for spoiled singers with no manners or respect for their fans.”

“I don’t understand,” you said.

“Marry me,” Bucky said. “Be my wife.”

“Bucky!” You gaped. Bucky took your hands. “We haven’t even- we can’t- I don’t- how?”

“We’ve been doing this dance for years now, pulling away from each other then tumbling back together. When I’m with you it feels right. You treat me good, so damn good and I haven’t always done right by you. That’s going to change.”

You launched yourself into his arms and he laughed as he caught you pressing kissed to your face.

“Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Bucky grinned and rolled you onto your back, his lips attaching to your neck.

“But…” you sighed.

“But? But what? No but’s Baby!”

“But I think we should abstain from sex, until we’re married,” you teased. It started as a joke but the look on Bucky’s face had you giggling internally. “We have a lot of talking to do, years worth to catch up on.”

“You’re right. Let’s talk.”

[wwilsonbarness]

when we get home

pairings:  sam wilson x bucky barnes 

summary: Bucky opens up to Sam about his past.

warnings: mentions of sexual assault, mention of Bucky’s being held by HYDRA, flufff

word count: 1271

a/n: i’m trying to get back into writing so this isn’t written the best but I really wish we got a conversation like this in the show :( 

Feedback, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :) 

I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated on any other platform.

masterlist

“Are we gonna talk about it?” Sam almost whispers. Not one word had been spoken between them since they arrived at Sharon's safehouse. 

Bucky doesn’t move his eyes from his hands where he was playing with his fingers. “Talk about what?” 

“You know what.” Bucky takes a deep breath, he wishes he didn’t know. He knows already that him and Sam aren’t really friends, yet something in him feels safe enough to open up to him.

Sam moves closer to Bucky, close enough that their thighs brush together. “Buck..” 

Bucky can feel his eyes grow wetter as the flashbacks of his time at Hydra flash through his mind. He turns to Sam and looks into his eyes, they’re full of trust, full of care. “I just.. I haven’t spoken about that with anyone before.” 

“Look, you don't have to talk about it.. just know that you can anytime and I’ll listen.” 

“You won’t judge me? Or look at me any different?” 

Sam shoots Bucky a slight smile. “I promise.” 

“I only remember parts.. a lot of my time with Hydra is still full of gaps, it comes back sometimes at random times but I remember..” Bucky pauses for a second and tries to think of a way to word this.

Sam puts his hand on Bucky’s thigh and squeezes slightly. Once his hand makes contact he worries he might have overstepped but Bucky leans into his touch and pushes those concerns away. 

“At first when they found me in the snow it wasn’t bad, I honestly felt relieved that I had been found, but then they told me who they were and I knew I wasn’t safe. I noticed too late, there was no way for me to escape. They locked me in a room and left me there for what felt like days. Food and water would appear in my room but I never saw anyone come in or out. I later found out that they would put gas into my room to knock me out.” Bucky feels like he is going off topic but Sam reassures him he’s okay to continue. 

“Once they’d gotten in my head with those damn words, they controlled everything I did. They would use me for their missions as you know, but it didn’t stop there. At one point, I don’t even know when but they moved me to a room and it had windows. At first I thought this was a good thing but then I realised they were only one way windows. I couldn’t see out but they could see in.”

Sam didn’t say anything but nodded, urging Bucky to continue. 

“They would take turns coming into my room, one at a time but I could hear the others on the other side of the window. They made me do different things and I’m still putting the pieces together but I remember one in particular. He would make me stand right in front of the mirror and take my clothes off.” Bucky felt Sam tense beside him and looked at him, checking if he should continue. Sam’s heart melted at Bucky, even at his most vulnerable he was checking on others. 

“It’s okay, only keep going if you want to.” 

Bucky nodded before continuing. “Once I had my clothes off, sometimes he would make me..” Bucky’s voice grew smaller and smaller as he continued, so much so, Sam could almost not hear him. “He would make me touch myself, whilst they all watched. I could hear them laughing, like they were enjoying themselves. The guy in the room, he would keep telling me what to do but he would stop right before I..” Sam gave Bucky a look of understanding, Bucky was thankful he didn't have to say it. “He would do it over and over again, never letting me finish.” Bucky cringed slightly at his wording but kept going. “Once they'd had their fun they’d just leave me there in pain.” 

Bucky suddenly felt like he had to defend himself. “And it’s not like I wanted to.. but anything would have been better than having to wait it out.” 

Sam can feel his anger rising, thinking back to earlier in the night. Zemo asking Bucky to go back into that mindset and let him touch him was uncalled for. He felt guilty for letting it happen even though deep down he knew it had to happen. Still he made a mental note to apologise to Bucky when the time was right.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to defend yourself. I can’t imagine how hard that would've been.” Bucky felt relieved at that, he almost felt silly for thinking Sam would judge him but after a second he realises probably not everyone would react this way. He really was grateful for having Sam. He made him feel safe and listened to so he kept going. 

“There was another man, he only came in a few times and he would touch me.. but…” Bucky took a deep breath and paused for only a moment. “He wouldn’t use the words. He just told me to lie down and I would do it. I just let him.” 

Sam didn’t want to interrupt Bucky but he couldn’t let him blame himself for that. “Bucky.. That wasn't your fault. Whether he used the words or not, it was against your will.”

“But I could have stopped him, If i’d just been toughe-”

“Bucky no. Please listen to me when I say this.” Sam shifts sideways slightly and grabs Bucky’s hands. He looks up into Bucky’s eyes and continued. “None of what happened to you is your fault, you had no choice in what happened.” 

Bucky can feel a tear run down his face before he can stop it. He quickly brings his hand up and wipes it away. “I’m sorry for this. I know you probably don’t want to hear about it.”

“Buck” Sam chuckles lightly. “I like to think we’re close enough now that we can vent to each other. This is gonna be pretty tough if we can’t.”

This brought a little smile to Bucky’s face. “Thank you for listening to me Sam, and thank you for not looking at me like I'm some freak.”

“You’re not a freak. You’ve been through a lot, that doesn’t make you a freak, that makes you strong. I know this was hard to look back on but I’m glad you felt safe enough to..with me. I’m here for you okay? From now on, we have each other's backs, no matter what.” 

“I’m here for you too. You can talk to me, I know I’ve been a bit of a dick in the past but I promise I got you. You can talk to me about anything, I know you’ve been through a lot too. It must be ha-” 

Before Bucky could finish speaking, the door swings open and Zemo walks in. “Gentleman.” Bucky pulls away from Sam and wipes his face once more, he absolutely does not want Zemo to crack any jokes about this. He shoots Sam an apologetic look but there's no need, Sam understood and nodded slightly to show that. “ Are you two ready to leave? We’re waiting.” 

Sam and Bucky both clear their throat before standing up. Both mumbling a response that sounds like a mixture of “Yes” and “Let’s go” 

Zemo leaves the room first and Bucky goes to follow but not before looking back at Sam and grabbing his hand. 

“When we get home.” They both smile slightly and Sam squeezes Bucky’s hand. 

Sam nods before responding “When we get home.”

[heroshifter]

→ Alright, I want to do this with all my DRs

★ MY TFATWS DR ★

—=★=—

• Name : Victoire Delarue

• Age : 29

• Tall : 1m75

• Origin : french

• Languages : French / english

• Occupation : Artist

• S/O : Sam Wilson ♡ since 6 years

• family : One of the richest of France - 2 brother

• bestfriend : Sharon Carter

• Background : omg way too much info and complex stories (that aren't traumatic because I'm too cool for that) but I'm a supersoldier

—=★=—

★Random other things★

• Karli doesn't die because I love her so much

• I've script so much drama scene— call me Shakespeare

• Late night swims with Sam

• Sam doesn't speak French but Bucky does

• So when Bucky makes fun of Sam for not speaking French, Sam respond in arabic

• We all interact more with Torres (I love Torres)

• Gossip Time with Sharon

[bucknastysbabe]

The Call Girl - H. Zemo

Kink Bingo - Spanking

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Call girl reader, Zemo is bb girl, Madripoor shenanigans, she wants that Bucky dick, possessive Zemo, spanking, shite bdsm etiquette, aftercare, pnv!sex, subtle audio voyeurism, That Club Scene

A/N: Sokovian is like Hungarian/Slovenian with Cyrillic lettering. So I made a Russian Slovenian nightmare.

сладкий - sweet

хорошая девочка - good girl

теплый - warm

You worked in Madripoor as a call girl. You didn’t provide ‘favors’ unless the client was handsome or particularly wealthy. The Baron, one of your favorites, had recently contacted you on accompanying him to Lowtown. You rolled your eyes, Lowtown had nothing good coming out of there.

He needed a date to fit in with the crowd at the Brass Monkey. The wire number was included in the message. You shrugged, Helmut was dearly missed since he’d been locked up. In the past he’d need you to scope out former Hydra members. Then have intense sex. Usually fun.

You idly wondered how he got out. Whatever, you accepted the request and informed Zemo that you would be there. Time to pick out a clubbing fit now. A client had recently bought you some jewelry that needed to be shown off.

You raised a brow at the two men accompanying the Baron. They seemed just as surprised. The famed Falcon barked, “Who the hell is this?” Meanwhile the stupidly handsome Winter Soldier glared you down, a mulish tilt to his jaw. Zemo swaggered forward wearing a lavish coat.

“Ah- dearest, you’re just as lovely as I last saw you. How are you сладкий?” He held his arms out, embracing you with a kiss on each cheek. He purred, “Business first, then much needed play Hm?”

You ran a manicured nail down his cheek, teasing, “I’ve been great. But we are very, very overdue.”

Clad under Zemo’s arm he turned to face the two men. They probably were here about the whole serum nonsense. Everyone knows something in Madripoor, knowledge is monetary. Helmut smoothly supplied, “Sam, James, My lovely friend here is to help us blend a bit more. She’s got connections everywhere.”

Sam frowned. “Whatever works man. Let’s get this over with.” Bucky nodded, looking at unease. Helmut palmed your ass, smirking like the cat that got the cream. You planted a kiss on his smooth cheek, inhaling the expensive cologne.

The two Avengers stuck out like sore thumbs. Your eyes flickered over to the Power Broker making deals while you danced with Zemo. You giggled at his little dance, pulling the Baron closer. You twisted to align your back to his front. The Sokovian tilted his head, a question in the air. You shouted over the music, “I know you did ballroom, but just move with me!” He nodded dutifully, hands encircling your hips.

To the thudding bass you rolled along to the music. Zemo learnt quickly, always did, serious face trained on yours. You grinded against his hips, asking, “Do you like my new sapphires? Montez bought them.” Zemo fingered at the jewels, not missing a beat. He hummed, “Good choice, meant to look ravishing with them only adorning you.”

Your lashes fluttered at his sultry tone. Helmut drove you fucking wild. You turned to capture his thin lips, lapping into his spicy taste. Zemo’s fingers clamped onto your waist, rutting roughly. The moment was interrupted by Sam and Buck, saying Sharon? was ready.

Well. Things have shifted dramatically. You just wanted to get boned. Not run from bounty hunters and practically blacklisted from Madripoor. Your very lucrative home. Also they didn’t realize their dear Sharon was the Power Broker, not your problem at the moment. You liked having a tongue.

The soldier snorted, “Bad luck huh?”

Sam added, “I’m sorry you got dragged into this. I’m sure- uh- someone can sort this out.”

You hissed, pointing at Zemo pacing, “I expect someone to find me a pardon. Hightown is where I work, live, and no one is watching my fucking cats!”

Zemo sighed, running a hand across his brow. He leveled you with a look, promising, “You will get sorted out my dear. Oeznik is already making arrangments. Why don’t you join me for a drink in the cabin, hm сладкий?”

Feeling slightly better you acquiesced by holding a prim hand out, the Baron taking it and leading you both to the back, closing a curtain and shutting the door. You could vaguely hear the two men complaining.

Once the door shut, Helmut was upon you, pushing you face first on the bed. You moaned softly, poking your ass up for him. Zemo hummed, “I would be quite upset to miss your company. Poor little James looked to be quite infatuated when you turned.”

To egg on the Baron you laughed, “He could join in, very easy on the eyes that one. Pliant.”

Helmut subtly growled, a gloved hand gripping at the meat of your ass. He ordered, “Don’t play the whore. You’re more than that. James is a pawn, a dog at our feet. Don’t even consider Wilson. сладкий, you’re all mine for the night, understand?”

You nodded, a strangled whimper of ‘yes’.

“хорошая девочка,” he said.

You heard his belt rustle, the clink of it in the air. Unable to help but squirm feeling his heavy gaze. Helmut stated flatly, “Since you dressed like a minx, brought up James, and teased me I think that earns you ten swats. Does that seem good?”

You babbled, “Yes Baron, I’ve been bad, I deserve those.”

He smirked again, flexing the belt with a crack. Zemo continued, “If you count them like my хорошая девочка then I’ll reward you. You remember the word?”

You gulped and replied, “теплый.”

Zemo closed in, and slid up your tight dress. He stopped, you turning to look. The Sokovian had his thoughtful head tilt on. He grunted, “Dress off.”

“Yes Baron.” The dress was shimmied off and you returned to your position. He made a sound of amusement, palming your smooth ass one more time. Helmut purred, “Remember to count my dear.”

Crack. One.

He struck the belt across both cheeks, zinging pain making you writhe and cry out a strained, “One sir!”

Your pussy was already achy and soaked from the build up. Zemo’s antics would have you squalling by the end. You’re a princess, not a pain slut.

Crack. Crack. Two, three.

This one was harder, definitely leaving a welt. You howled and gripped at the bedding, moaning in pleasure-pain. You gritted out, “Two and three sir.” You whimpered at the aftershocks of the intense heat.

“Doing so well.”

Crack! Across the backs of your thighs. You jolted up the bed, a leather clad hand easily yanking you back. He laughed lowly, “Easy girl.” You whimpered and stilled yourself, sulkily replying, “F-four.”

Crackcrack! Criss crossed across your ass. Your pussy convulsed around nothing, needy for his cock. You whined, “Five! Thank you Baron- fuck, six!” You clenched your sore thighs together, head foggy.

Seven and eight were a blur. Tears began to well in your eyes, ass stinging and bruising. Helmut cooed and praised you, thumb tenderly circling your ankle. You mewled, “S-s-seven, ah-eight.”

“So close.”

Crack. Crack. One final smack on each cheek. The floodgates opened, you babbling, “Fuckfuck- m’god! Baron! Shit nine ten! Fuck me Helmut, oh god fuck me!” You couldn’t hold back the sobs, presenting your sore ass.

Helmut had stripped behind you, laying over your wracked frame. He slid his palms up your waist, nipping your ear. The Baron groaned, “You bloom so gorgeous for me.” You sniveled and rutted back against his hard cock, begging brokenly for dick.

He laughed, “I have you. I have you.” The blunt tip of his cock rubbed around your swollen, wet folds before sliding in one rough stab. The pair of you gasped and shook, your ass reigniting with pain at the collision.

Zemo muttered rapid Sokovian nonsense, breathing down the nape of your neck. He urged, “Take it dear. For your Baron.” You nodded in drunken jerks, grasping the fine bedding. You were already so close from the spanking.

Helmut pounded his frustrations into your willing body, grunting and spouting Sokovian nothings. His balls slapped wetly against your cunt, filling the room with a lewd soundtrack. Meanwhile you scrabbled at the bed, sobbing his name and praising the Baron.

“So gah-goddamn good! Close- please don’t stop sir! Mmm!”

He licked and sucked at your shoulder and neck, cracking his palm down on your flank. The new sting made your eyes roll back and cunt aggressively pulse out slick. You shook under the brunt of your long awaited orgasm, howling in ecstasy. Zemo growled, “Hah- that’s it dear, let them hear, let them know what they can’t have.”

You yelled, “Youyouyou Helmut!”

His pulsing cock stretched your rolling pussy, driving deep to fill you up with a quiet grunt. He hoarsely panted, staying upright, amber eyes up at the roof. He gasped, “Divine dear.” You whispered, “Lay down, relax for a bit. I know my dear Baron is busy. Mind the ass.”

He chuckled, sliding out with a curse. Helmut got up on shaking legs, walking to a drawer. You looked up and asked, “What is it?” He didn’t turn, responding, “Crème. Helps with the ache for tomorrow.” You smiled at his sweetness.

Zemo returned to rub the cooling lotion into your worn buttocks, idly chatting about recent events. You simply listened, lulling off into a sleep. How you enjoyed your Baron so. But Oeznik better fly you back to the Power Broker to get your name restored. Insanity.

[navybrat817]

We'll Always be Friends

Pairing: Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: It's time to have dinner with your friends, but your mind keeps drifting to Bucky. Word Count: 1.9k Warnings: Light angst, tension, friends reconnecting, unrequited feelings (or so you think), slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning) A/N: More Dreamboat and Butterfly from my Reconnect AU and a direct continuation of Waiting a Little Longer! ❤️ Beta read by @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You found it difficult to leave your room, even with your friends waiting downstairs. Reconnecting with Bucky though, it made sense why you wanted to be alone with him a little longer. That wasn't fair to everyone else. The group didn't hang out quite as often during the duration of Bucky and Dot's relationship, but you were looking forward to spending time together and catching up this week.

We've weathered through tough times and deserve some fun.

Bucky put his hand on your lower back as you made your way down the stairs. The man could hardly hug you when he was with his ex, but now he wouldn't stop touching you. Just like in your room minutes ago. Not that you were going to push him away. You more than missed the affection that used to exist between you two and each minute that passed seemed to make you fall back in sync. As long as you didn't get too comfortable, it was fine.

Everything is fine.

Everyone was gathered in the brightly lit dining room, food already spread out on plates as chatter filled the room. Steve, at the head of the table, chuckled at something Sam said. Sharon laughed as well and you couldn't help but smile as you observed them. Perhaps you were imagining it, but the atmosphere wasn't as thick as it had been over the last couple of years. Even Natasha's subtle smile was gentler, more relaxed.

Like old times.

"Hey! Finally!" Sam smiled once he spotted you, bringing everyone's attention your way. Steve's smile didn't quite reach his eyes when the girls greeted you, making you tense up a little. "We were about to send a search party after you two."

"No need for that," you smiled a little when Sam pushed his chair back. "No need for that either," you teased as he walked toward you, but to no avail. He enveloped you in a hug before you could stop him. The man was almost as tall as Bucky and Steve and just as muscular. The three of them were beautiful giants in your eyes.

"Nope. Not getting out of a hug," he said, dropping his voice to a whisper. "Give Steve one, please. He thinks you're upset with him."

You felt a little sick to your stomach as he pulled away. You hadn't meant to make Steve feel bad. "I will," you whispered back before you gave the blonde a small smile. He looked like a golden retriever who had his bone taken away. "Do I get a hug from you, too?"

Steve's shoulders dropped in relief as he got up. "Of course, you do."

Like Sam, Steve's hug was warm and friendly. They never held onto you for too long or linger the way Bucky did. A quick embrace and nothing more.

"It's good to see you. I'm sorry I rushed off when you got here," you said, wanting him at ease.

Steve shook his head and gave you a rueful smile. "I'm the one who should be sorry," he said. You didn't get a chance to ask him why before he went back to his seat. "And it's good to see you, too."

You turned your attention to the girls instead who looked perfectly at ease on their side of the table. Natasha and Sharon were as gorgeous as they were intimidating. A sultry redhead and a blonde bombshell, they could come across as unapproachable from a first glance. But they were fierce and loyal friends. You were lucky to have them in your life.

"Please, don't get up. I will hug you both after dinner," you begged when they scooted their chairs back. "I appreciate you waiting for us to join you."

"So the boys get hugs, but we don't. I see how it is," Natasha teased.

"No one hugged me," Bucky pointed out.

"No one likes you," Sam chimed in, drawing a laugh from the girls.

"Butterfly likes me just fine," Bucky said, making you nod and bite your tongue so you didn't blurt out how much you really liked him. "Sit next to me?" He asked hopefully, pulling out your chair for you.

"Since these are the only two chairs left, sure," you teased, gazing up at him as you sat down. He stared back at you before he took a seat. "How was the drive?"

"The storm slowed us down, but Steve got us here safe and sound," Sharon answered as everyone began to eat. Steve wasn't one to brag, but you caught him grinning for a split second. "But what about you two? Did you get up to anything before we got here?"

Just snuggled with Bucky and fell asleep in his arms.

Bucky looked up from his plate as you glanced at him. "We wanted to go swimming, but the rain ruined that plan and we ended up taking a nap," you said.

Natasha's eyes darted between the two of you. "You ended up taking a nap," she repeated slowly. "You slept together?"

Bucky coughed and shook his head as your eyes went wide. The redhead looked pleased with herself as she waited for an explanation. "I. We. No?" You answered.

"We fell asleep together on the couch. That's it," Bucky explained once he recovered from his cough. "Nothing happened."

That's it. Nothing happened.

You curled in a bit on yourself when Natasha frowned. "Yeah. What Bucky said," you agreed, ignoring his gaze.

You had no reason to feel sad. It wasn't as if Bucky meant anything by his response. He gave Nat an honest answer. So why did it feel like a brush off?

Steve cleared his throat when the silence stretched on. "Well, I'm glad we're all here."

Good ol' Steve breaking the tension.

"Yeah. When's the last time we all went to the beach together?" Sam asked. "Was it last year? The year before?"

Bucky moved his chair closer to yours, but you didn't acknowledge it. "Two summers ago for Steve's birthday."

Right before Dot.

Everyone was either kind enough not to voice the connection or didn't want to talk about her.

"That's right. You guys bought him a red, white, and blue Speedo," you said, remembering the redness in Steve's cheeks when he opened the present. A few drinks in and he ended up wearing them.

"They looked good on me. It would've been rude not to wear them," Steve defended himself as Sam laughed. "That was a good day."

"It was," you agreed, glancing around the table. "Perfect weather and company."

We'll always be friends.

Bucky caught your eye when he nodded. "You found a seashell on the beach and you were so excited because the color was the exact same shade of blue as your bathing suit," he said, smiling to himself as you listened. "You said it had to be some sort of good luck charm and made it your mission to find one to match my swim trunks so I'd have some good luck, too."

He remembered that?

"That was why you kept running back and forth between Buck and the water," Steve grinned, nodding to Bucky. "He wouldn't tell me what you were doing. Just that you were looking for the perfect shell."

"I was determined to find it," you giggled as Natasha and Sharon shared a look. "I must've brought dozens of shells over."

It was silly when you looked back on it, but Bucky obliged and let you have your fun. In fact, your whims and nature never once seemed to bother him. He supported them.

"You didn't give up. And about twenty minutes later, you found one," he said, rubbing the back of his neck when he added, "I still have that seashell."

You took a breath before a bashful smile crept up your face. "You kept it?"

"Well, yeah," he replied, casually putting his arm around the back of your chair. "You gave it to me."

The room went quiet and you felt everyone's eyes on you, but your focus was on Bucky. "I had no idea."

The thought that Bucky held onto something so small and seemingly insignificant because it came from you had your mind running a mile a minute. Why not get rid of it? Maybe the shell reminded him of Steve's birthday and he didn't want to let that go. The voice that led with your heart said he kept it because you gave him a tiny gift.

He kept something because I gave it to him.

Your smile widened before the flash of a camera went off, the softness leaving Bucky's eyes as you both blinked.

"Sorry. Couldn't help myself," Sharon said with an innocent stare when you tore your gaze away from Bucky. "Need photos for the scrapbook. You understand."

Bucky kept his arm on your chair as everyone began to eat again. "You're making one for this trip?"

"Yeah, I want to take as many pictures as I can."

In the past, Sharon had put together photo albums and scrapbooks full of memories of the group. Sometimes for herself, others as gifts to her friends. Each one was beautiful and special, a way to reflect on the past and appreciate the time together.

"No rain tomorrow, so plenty of chances to get some outdoor photos. Maybe we can play some beach volleyball. Three on three," Sam suggested.

"You just want to show off," Natasha smirked. She wasn't wrong. The guys enjoyed the competition. "But let's make it interesting. We win, you boys have to do all the chores this week. You win, we'll take care of them."

"And if we win, you boys also have to take us to the carnival in town and win each of us a prize," Sharon added, pointing at Steve. "I know you had the carnival on the list of things to do."

"And if we win, you'll win each of us a prize?" Steve asked.

"We have to win because I'm terrible at those games," you said. They were fun, but you couldn't remember ever winning a prize.

Bucky leaned over as the group began to debate whether or not carnivals rigged the games. "I'll win you a prize no matter who wins the volleyball game," he promised.

"I'll hold you to that," you said, giddy at the thought of him winning you a teddy bear or some other stuffed animal.

"You two up for a little drinking tonight or do you plan on falling asleep on the couch again?" Sam joked, interrupting your private conversation.

"I will drink. But if I have too much, Bucky has to carry me to bed," you said.

"What happened to calling me 'Dreamboat'?"

He's pouting and it's adorable.

"Okay. You carry me to bed if I drink too much and tuck me in, Dreamboat."

"Deal," he easily agreed.

"To the best week ahead!" Steve announced.

"And get ready to get your asses handed to you tomorrow," Sam added.

As everyone began to playfully argue again, you made a mental decision not to drink too much. Alcohol had a way of making people lose their inhibitions and the last thing you needed to do was blurt something personal out in front of the whole gang. Bucky promised that the two of you would talk and you would. Sober. But a fun night could be what you needed to kick off the rest of the week.

Things will start to come to light in the next part or two. A calm before the storm, if you will... Love and thanks for reading! ❤️ Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[avengerscompound]

The Recruit - 1. Sam

The Recruit - An Avengers Fanfiction

Series Masterlist

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Clint Barton x Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Sam Wilson x F!Reader

Word Count: 2058

Warnings: None this chapter

Synopsis:  When Sam Wilson is set up on a blind date, he doesn’t expect anything to come from it.  He is already in a relationship after all, and not just with one other person, but a whole group of them.  You never expected to end up working for the Avengers let alone be dating six of them at the same time.  Now you’re balancing a new job, a new romance, new friends, and a secret that could destroy a lot of lives if it got out.  It’s a tricky balance to get right at the best of times, but when something happens to Steve Rogers it’s up to the people who love him most to get him back.

Author’s Note:  IF YOU WISH TO BE TAGGED IN THE REMAINDER OF THIS SERIES, EITHER ADD YOURSELF TO THE TAGLIST OR SEND ME A MESSAGE

Chapter 1: Sam

Sam moved his napkin from the table to his lap and back to the table again.  The restaurant was too nice.  The tables were all dark shining hardwood and the light fittings all looked a mixture of space-age and rustic in a  way that shouldn’t work, but somehow did. The table had been set with multiple glasses and multiple forks. Even the napkin itself spoke of how expensive this place was - the thread count was higher than the ones on his sheets.

He wasn’t uncomfortable because of how expensive it was.  Sure he grew up poor and preferred eating the kinds of comfort food he grew up on instead of this pretentious shit that cost a fortune for the tiny portion that would end up on the plate.  But he was famous and he was elite.  He’d been to his fair share of galas and celebratory dinners. He knew how to fit in with the rich.  He knew which fork was for which course, he’d even used those tongs meant to hold snail shells more than once.  He knew how to pretend to be interested in topics that he didn’t care about.   He also knew how to delicately move the conversation to ones that he did care about.  He didn’t love this kind of restaurant, but he could go undetected.

He was uncomfortable because he’d chosen this restaurant.  He’d chosen it specifically because he’d been set up on a blind date that he already knew wasn’t going to work out and he was trying to compensate by making the meal nice and memorable so that when he let his date down, at least they’d had a nice meal.  Only now he was here, he’d realized he’d overcompensated and that either both of you would be completely uncomfortable and you’d be expecting more from him, because why else would he be spending so much on you?

He already knew it wasn’t going to work out because the truth was - he was already in a loving and committed relationship, only no one knew about it because it was with five other people.  They weren’t unknowns either, he was dating Avengers.  Important ones.  Original team members.  So it wasn’t as if he could just tell everyone he was dating.  The world wouldn’t exactly take it well that Captain America was getting it on with five people at the same time.  They saw him as the symbol of the Nation, and there were too many people that would think that his being polyamorous was some kind of perversion.

So it was a secret.  That meant that when Torres had started getting on Sam’s back about dating someone, Sam could only think of so many excuses not to go. So when he’d told Sam all about this woman who was smart, and funny, ex-air force special forces, Sam had no reason to keep putting it off forever.  You sounded like just his type and if kept saying no, Torres was going to take it personally.

The idea for tonight was to give you a good night and then tell Torres there was no spark.  No harm.  No foul.

He just wished he hadn’t been trying so hard.

The waiter led you over to the table and Sam stood quickly.  He had expected you to be fun to have dinner with.  He hadn’t expected to feel such an instant attraction.

The black dress you wore hugged you in all the right places while hiding enough to pique his interest.  There were two red lace peek-a-boo panels in the skirt of the dress that he caught glimpses of with each step that brought you closer to the table.

As you approached Sam suddenly realized that he had no idea how he should greet you.  A kiss on the cheek would be normal in this situation even though the two of you had never met, but he was supposed to be letting you down easy.  He didn’t want to give the wrong impression.

He offered you his hand when you reached him and you leaned in a little like you were going to kiss his cheek.  He quickly moved to kiss your cheek, but not quickly enough as you had faltered and pulled back.  When you’d seen him go to lean in, you’d redirected to try again and Sam moved, making the two of you bang your foreheads together.

“Ow,” you said, rubbing your forehead.

Sam covered his own with his hand too, but more out of embarrassment.  “I’m so sorry.”

“That feels like a bad omen,” you laughed.  “Let’s hope it’s not downhill from here.”

Sam chuckled and shook his head, holding out your chair for you.  “I promise, I’m usually much smoother than that.”

“And a gentleman,” you added.  “Don’t see a lot of that in my work.”

“That’s right,” Sam said as he took his seat.  “Torres said you were Airforce special forces.  I can’t even imagine how hard that would have been as a woman.  What division?”

“I was recon,” you said.  “And yeah, it wasn’t always fun.  It definitely makes you appreciate it when you find a man whose mama raised him right.  Not a lot of manners in the air force.”

Sam laughed and shook his head.  “No, you can say that again,” he said.  “I was pararescue.”

You laughed softly.  “Yeah.  I know.”

“Oh right…”

“...because you’re…”

“...the Falcon…”

“...the Falcon. Right.”

Sam’s whole face felt like it was on fire.  He covered his face for a moment and then ran his palms back over his head.  “Fuck - you’d think I’d never gone out on a date before.”

“Well have you?” you asked, picking up the menu.  “I mean - this isn’t exactly a first date restaurant.  Especially a blind date.”

“It’s too much, right?”  Sam said, sinking back into his chair.  “It’s too much.  I wanted to make sure you had a nice night out and I overcompensated.  I’m so sorry.”

“It’s a lot of pressure,” you admitted.  “Guys spend this kind of money on a date, they’re usually looking for some remuneration.”

“Oh god, no,” Sam said, raising his hands.  “No.  I swear it was nothing like that.  The opposite if anything.”

“Wow,” you deadpanned.  “So now you’re saying you don’t want to sleep with me?”

Sam suddenly wished the ground would open and swallow him whole.  “I - it’s not - you seem really nice - and you’re damn hot - but …”

You threw your head back laughing.  “It’s fine.  I’m just messing with you.  You don’t even know me.”

“Yeah, buy a guy a drink first,” Sam teased.  He sighed and tossed his napkin on the table.  “Do you want to get out of here?”

You looked around and nodded.  “Oh god yes. Can we?”

Sam tossed some money onto the table to make up for them not ordering anything and the two of you made your way outside and onto what was one of the best dates Sam had ever been on.

To be fair, he never got a lot of time to date.  It wasn’t like he and the others could go out together holding hands and getting to just be together, the way every other happy couple did.  Even before the group he was in now, there always seemed to be something else in the way.  Even still here and there had been dates.  Some good.  Some bad.  None like this.

You walked through the city and grabbed slices of pizza at a small grimy hole in the wall and took them on their paper plates to eat in the park.  You grabbed gelato and sat outside Madison Square Garden listening to the band play inside.  It was lowkey and cheap and yet he had so much fun.  The conversation flowed easily through topics about family and the airforce and Joaquín.  Even when he began talking about the Avengers it felt comfortable.  More like he had a chance to brag than you prying in on a part of his life that everyone always wanted to know about.  He really enjoyed your company and the time he spent with you.  You were the exact kind of person he would normally fall for.

It didn’t make Sam doubt what he had with the others.  He loved them.  They were committed to each other and never strayed outside the six people.  Yet, he started wondering if he was in love with five people, was it bad to consider making room for a sixth?

It sounded crazy.  He knew it.  But then didn’t being in a relationship with five people already sound crazy?  This was only really 16.67% crazier than that.

He walked you home, though he didn’t go in for the kiss.  He was considering options, but none of them meant cheating on people.  You seemed a little disappointed but not enough to remark on it before you went inside.

When he got home, his mind was racing.  What would adding someone else mean?  Would it mean you dated all six people in the group?  Would they want that?  Would you?  What if you didn’t get along with the others at all?  What if you hated polyamory?

There were a lot of questions, but the first ones needed to be asked of the group.

When he arrived home everyone was waiting up for him.  Natasha and Sharon were squished together on the recliner seemingly reading the same book at the same time.  Clint was clearly bugging Bucky by trying to braid something into Bucky’s hair while Bucky kept shaking his head and pushing Clint away.  Steve was sitting alone, poring over paperwork.  All five of them looked up at the same time.  “How was your date?” Clint teased, sitting up quickly.  “Did sparks fly?  Love at first sight?  Should we expect wedding bells?”

“Yeah, Sam,” Bucky teased.  “Can I be your best man?”

“You can’t be my best anything,” Sam huffed, taking a seat on the couch next to Steve.  Steve put his arm around Sam’s shoulders, and Sam leaned into him automatically.

“Did you have a nice night?” Steve asked, his tone much more genuine and sympathetic than either Bucky's or Clint’s.  The blond leaned in as he asked and Sam pecked his lips softly.  The genuine concern strengthened Sam’s resolve. These were the people Sam had chosen to spend his life with.  For better or worse.

When he pulled back he smiled.  “I had a really good time.  She’s kind of awesome.”

Steve raised an eyebrow, while Natasha and Sharon both sat forward in their shared chair.  “Why does that sound like you have plans?” Sharon asked.

“Yeah, Samuel?  What’s cooking in that mind of yours?” Natasha added. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted.  “But you all have to admit that the six of us being together the way we are is a little unusual.”

“You can say that again,” Bucky agreed.

“You want to date her, don’t you?” Clint asked, tilting his head as he looked Sam over. “Five people isn't enough?”

“It’s not that,” Sam said.  “Not at all.  And if you all say no, then I will let it go.  But - we all know that our hearts can love all number of people in all number of ways.  Maybe - maybe this person is one of ours and we needed Torres to introduce us.”

“So what do you want to do?” Sharon asked.  “You date her?  All of us?”

“I don’t know,” Sam said. “All I know was that that was the best first date I’ve ever been on and maybe there’s something to explore.   But I don’t want to do it without the rest of you.  You’re my people.  You mean everything to me.”

Steve let out a breath.  “What about if you invite her round for dinner?  The least we can do is meet her, right?”

“Really?” Sam asked.

Steve looked around at the others, and they all either shrugged or nodded.  “We’re a family, Sam.  If you think there’s something there, we need to trust you.  We know you’d never hurt us.”

Sam nodded and cuddled up into Steve, feeling much more relaxed but also a little excited  “I love you, you know?” Sam said.

Steve smiled and kissed Sam’s temple. “We all know.  And we all love you.  We trust you.”

For Sam, that was the most important part of all.

// NEXT

[evansbby]

hey, i love poyt sm🥹 but I was wondering, does omega get along well with Steve’s other friends (not including Bucky/Sam?) and what about any of the popular girls or cheerleaders that hang around the jocks? does that make sense?? anyways, love this story so much!

Hey, this makes perfect sense! Omega is too shy and doesn’t really speak to any of Steve’s friends! As for any girls — poyt!Steve isn’t really friends with any girls as he is very misogynistic and thinks of them as objects. But there are some cheerleaders that hang around with Steve’s jock group so it would be interesting to see how omega would get on with them! (This will kind of be in part 4, but I wanna write a short drabble on it too!)

(This is a drabble for my alpha Steve fic, preying on you tonight)

Warnings: smut, daddy!kink, a/b/o dynamics, dark Steve, bullying

(let’s say this takes place after Steve mated with omega but before she found out she’s pregnant)

“Look how adorable she looks in her little apron!”

“Aww, are those little cherries? So cute!”

“She’s so cute!”

You shuffle uncomfortably on your feet, unsure whether the girls are being genuine or if they’re making fun of you. More often than not, it’s very difficult for you to tell. 

You’d been minding your own business, in the kitchen making Steve a sandwich because he’d said he was hungry. And then the doorbell had rung and about five jocks and three girls had entered the house - much to your horror. You couldn’t even escape back up to Steve’s bedroom because you’d have to cross paths with the alphas who were all congregated in the living room. 

The girls, on the other hand, had gathered in the kitchen; and you can feel their eyes on you while you concentrate on cutting the crusts off of Steve’s sandwich. One of them addresses you directly:

“Where’d you get the apron from?” 

“Uh, Steve got it for me.” You answer awkwardly. Which is true - he’d thrown it at you a few days ago with an oddly excited look on his face, saying something about you looking like a “proper housewife”. You had simply thought the print was pretty, but didn’t miss the glint in his eyes as he’d made you put it on for him. 

One of the girls is chewing on a piece of gum, ogling at you as if you’re some kind of specimen on display at a museum. 

“So, is Steve like, your boyfriend?”

You purse your lips together, not really knowing what to say but deciding to give the less complicated answer: “I-I... I guess he is.” 

“Could we see your mark?”

You cough, feeling your chest tighten up slightly. You’re sensitive about your mark and the memories of how it was given to you. And anyways, it’s personal to you. You really don’t want to show them. 

“Oh my God, you can’t just ask people to show their marks!” one of the other girls huffs, and the three of them burst into a fit of giggles while you force yourself to laugh along with them, feeling more uncomfortable by the minute. 

“You’re lucky. Steve’s probably the best-looking guy in college.” The girl with the gum sighs. 

“Totally,” The second girl agrees, “Although Ari could give him a run for his money.”

“So, what’s Steve like in bed?” The third girl asks out of nowhere.

Another question that catches you off-guard, and you feel your cheeks heat up. 

“Come on, Priya. Why would you ask her that? As if you don’t already know!” More snide laughter, and now you freeze in the middle of cutting the sandwich into triangles. 

“I think we all know.” The gum-chewer giggles, “Oh my gosh, remember Halloween night, when Steve took both of us to his room? Of course, he was with that bitch Sharon at the time, but that never stopped him, and-”

The knife makes a loud cluttering sound when you drop it on the marble counter-top, promptly turning on your heel and leaving the kitchen, sandwich forgotten. You’ve also seemingly forgotten about your own shyness because you walk straight into the living room, past all the jock alphas who leer at you, making a beeline for Steve. 

He’s sitting on the couch, legs spread and beer in hand, laughing at some video Bucky’s showing him on his phone. And that’s when you hesitate, wondering whether he’d be nice or mean to you in front of his alpha friends. But you can’t help it, tugging at his sweater sleeve anyways until he looks up at you.

“Can we talk?” You ask softly. 

“Aww, look at Stevie’s little girlfriend in her cute little apron!” One of the alphas whose name you don’t remember booms. You cringe inwardly, wishing you’d taken the darn thing off before you’d come in. 

Steve smirks, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you down on his lap. And you aren’t kidding when you wish you’d rather bury your head in a hole than be sat on Steve’s lap in a room full of beer-drinking, weed-smoking alphas but here you are. 

“You look so sweet, baby.” He whispers in your ear, taking your hand in his and playing with your fingers. But that doesn’t seem to be enough physical contact for him, he grabs your face and presses his lips onto yours, tongue gaining entrance almost immediately as he licks into your mouth. 

Eyes wide, you can’t believe he’s just casually making out with you in front of his friends, but you don’t dare push him away unless he gets mad. 

“Steve, please, can we talk somewhere private?” You ask against his lips when he pulls away for breath - and immediately you hear booming laughter erupting all around you.

“Talk in private. That’s code for ‘I’m horny, please fuck me.’” A brunette alpha you vaguely recognise from your politics lectures - Andy - guffaws, with Sam and a few others joining in.

“Shut the fuck up, Barber.” Steve frowns, pushing you up to your feet before following suit, his hand fast holding on to yours, “Don’t talk about my girlfriend like that.”

You keep your head down, letting Steve drag you out of the room and into the nearest bathroom, sighing in relief when he shuts and locks the door behind him. But that relief doesn’t last too long because in an instant, he’s on you. 

“I-I need to talk to you,” you say softly, but you’re sure he hasn’t even heard you, your beefy alpha grabs you from below your thighs, picking you up and setting you down on the marble sink, immediately spreading your legs and slotting himself between them. 

“Mmm, you’re so hot. I’m happy my friends got to see you in your little apron, busy in the kitchen like a good little omega.” Steve’s bulge presses against your belly and you let out a squeak, his lips sponging wet kisses up your neck while his hands freely explore your body, “Now they know how well I’ve got you trained.”

You lose yourself to his touch for a moment, melting when he cups your face in his hands, almost tender until he yanks you into him, kissing you so fervently, you feel like you’ll pass out. 

Meekly, you push against his chest, “Steve. Please. I just wanted to talk about one thing.”

Steve’s lips drag down back to your neck, back to his favourite spot - your mark. Licking over it repeatedly, kissing it, grazing his teeth over it till you’re jelly in his arms, he smirks against your skin, “Talk then. I’m listening.”

“Well... I... I was talking to those girls back in the kitchen...”

“Mm, yeah? What did you talk about?” His hand slips underneath your blouse, infinitely more interested in what’s under there as he squeezes your breast roughly. 

You try to focus on the issue you want to bring up, hoping to ease into it... “Well, first they asked me if I wanted to go out with them this weekend.” (This was true, they had asked you this when they’d first come in.)

“Oh? And what did you say?” Steve draws back, blue eyes finally making contact with yours, fingers deftly grabbing the hem of your skirt and flipping it upwards along with your apron. 

“I said I would have to ask your permission first.”

Steve kisses you again, “Good girl. You can’t go, by the way.”

Him forbidding you to go out with the girls doesn’t bother you in the least - you’d much rather stay at home with Steve and Steve Junior than spend an entire night guessing whether you’re the butt of the girls’ jokes and whether they’re being genuine with you or not.  

“They... They also said that...” You pause, mulling over how to say it. “They said that last Halloween...”

Steve’s already refocused his gaze between your legs, yanking your panties down past your thighs. 

“Have you slept with them?” You blurt out, cheeks heating up even more. 

There’s cold fire and confusion behind his blue eyes as they narrow down at you, “What?”

“They said they already know what you’re like… in bed, because they’ve been with you — slept with you — before.” The more you say it out loud, the tighter your chest becomes, and you haven’t even noticed it but you’ve got your hands clenched into fists.

“Mmhm,” Steve goes back to kissing you, not giving your words any importance except this time you turn your head to the side.

“Steve, please. I just want to know—”

“I don’t remember. Maybe. Probably.” He’s acting too casual, continuing to make out with you, forcibly capturing your lips between his.

You feel a sharp pang in your heart at his answer. And what follows next is perhaps a tad over-dramatic, but it’s like you can’t help yourself. You sniffle softly, reaching up to wipe your eyes.

Steve stops short, looking down at you incredulously, “Are you… Are you crying?”

“N-No.”

He gathers you in his arms, carrying you over and sitting down on the covered toilet seat with you in his lap. And by this point, you can’t help the tears that trickle down your face. And you can’t understand why. You always knew Steve had a reputation for sleeping with a lot of girls — all the alphas on the football team did.

But hearing those girls say they’d slept with your alpha… right in front of your face! And hearing Steve confirm it… Suddenly, you want nothing more than to trudge upstairs and get into your nest and cuddle with Steve Junior. Your emotions have been all over the place lately, and you can’t seem to figure out why...

“My little baby omega,” Steve coos, “are you jealous?”

Another sniffle, “I know I have no right to be. It’s in the past. And it’s not like I was a virgin when I... when we...” Your voice trails off when his face flashes with annoyance, his grip tightening on your arm and fingers digging into your flesh.

“What have I told you about mentioning him?” 

“Sorry, alpha.”

He loosens his grip, “I barely remember fucking any of those girls, so they probably weren’t that good in the sack anyways.” He brushes your hair back, tucking it behind your ear and stroking your head like you’re his pet. “Baby, they’re all worthless sluts - not like you, you’re wife material.”

Wife material. Why does that compliment make the omega inside you want to spontaneously combust with happiness? But like spiderwebs lurking in every dark corner, the doubts creep into your head to combat the light-heartedness you feel because of his praise. 

“You used to call me a slut.” You say quietly.

Steve huffs, brushing blond strands away from his forehead, “I already told you... I did that to keep you safe, to keep all those other alpha dickheads away from you.” He cups your face in his hands, making those butterflies in your stomach awaken again, “They would’ve taken advantage of you, baby.”

Believe him? Don’t believe him? You don’t know what to think, but it’s better not to think at all, better to just focus on his lips that are back to kissing your neck. That sensitive spot where your mark is - his favourite spot - and you throw your head back and whimper softly when he grazes his teeth against your gland. 

But you can’t get the sinking feeling out of your tummy, this sinking feeling that’s been brewing inside you ever since those girls came into the kitchen and started speaking to you. Once more, you risk Steve’s wrath by pulling away.

“H-How many girls have you slept with?” The question comes out in a timid, weak tone. You’ve never asked him anything this forwardly before. In fact, you don’t ask Steve too many questions anyways, because he either ignores them or changes the subject.

“I don’t know.”

You gape at him. “Y-You don’t know?”

You really don’t understand what’s up with your emotions because this news brings on a fresh wave of tears – because I don’t know probably means his number is in the double digits – or triple, even! You swallow harshly, unable to ignore the lump in your throat. So many girls – all of them probably prettier than you, sexier than you, more refined, ore knowledgeable about pleasure… And the list goes on and on and on.

“Stop crying,” Steve orders you stiffly, pressing his lips to yours, tongue swiping against your mouth slowly, “Or don’t, actually. It turns me on when you cry. See?” He grabs your hand, placing it on top of his hard crotch. But you’re not in the mood, despite his scent, despite his touch, despite everything.

“Wanna go upstairs.”

“Mm, but the guys won’t be able to hear me fuck you if we go upstairs.”

You bury your head in his shoulder, wishing you had Steve Junior to cuddle with because Steve himself only has a one-track mind. How could you ever have expected him to understand, to comfort you? What had you expected?

“Please. Wanna go to bed. Steve, please.” Again, you swipe at your eyes as tears somehow continue to well inside of them.

“Hey,” He cups your face with both his hands this time, stroking your cheek in the way that only he knows how to do, in a way that makes you melt into him despite anything, “I told you – those girls meant nothing to me. You’re my one and only. You’re the one I’m gonna knock up, my omega who’s gonna have my babies. You should be happy.” He wipes your tears with his thumbs, the act surprisingly gentle although his words still confuse you.

He's got about a hundred explanations and a hundred excuses, and why is it that you believe each one? Are they excuses? Or maybe he’s being genuine now? He’s being so sweet – well, as sweet as Steve can get. You bite your lip; wondering why alphas like Steve don’t come with a manual, a manual explaining his intentions because damned if you’re ever able to.

Believe him! The omega inside you screeches, and you find yourself biting your lip again.

Steve frowns, “Don’t bite your lip. Or I’ll bite it for you.” And with that, he rips your apron off you, cherry print rags on the floor as he begins to pop the buttons of your blouse, one by one. And that’s when you smell a fresh whiff of hot summer days and freshly mown grass and that woody, musky scent that has you going weak.

Alpha is good, alpha chose you. Not them. You. You, you, you! The omega inside you chants.

Steve’s tongue is tantalising as he licks up your salty tears from your face, pushing your bra strap down your shoulder, “I’m gonna fuck you right up against the bathroom door, omega. That way they’ll all hear it, hear you scream for me, know who you belong to. The girls will hear it too, and you want that, don’t you?”

You squirm, suddenly feeling hot all over, emotions washing away as quickly as they’d rained over you. Now, all you can feel is his thick dick underneath you, straining against his jeans and poking up against your ass, as if promising to fuck you good. 

“Answer me, omega. You want those girls to hear me wreck your little baby pussy, don’t you?” He grabs your hair, twisting your head backwards and pressing his forehead against yours, “I know you do. Because I know you...”

You feel your pussy throb, and you can’t help it when you fervently begin to return his kisses, letting him pick you up and walk you across the bathroom and up against the door, just like he’d promised. 

“Done being an emotional little cry-baby?” His tone dances between cruel and condescending, but for tonight it seems like you’ve given up trying to understand him - not when his touch feels so good. And now the source of your tears is the overwhelming pleasure you feel, and Steve licks them up readily. 

“Cry some more, sweet omega. You know daddy loves it when you cry.”

THE END! Tbh, idk about this! i just wanted to write more and explore more about this pair, especially in the one month they’re together that we kind of gloss over in part 3!! None of this really advances the plot of course, it’s just a long drabble, and i’m not sure why i wrote it except that i just... wrote it. idk! please do tell me what you think!!! i know many of you probably expected smut but... this pairing is very interesting to me and i love writing them when they talk!! okay, i’ll shut up now.. please let me know what you thought!!

[bisamwilson]

Hi! Sambucky + #6, pretty please?

thanks for the ask <3 #6: things you said under the stars and in the grass (from this list)

There's a firefly within reaching distance, so it shouldn't be any surprise to Bucky that Sam automatically reaches up towards it.

He doesn't catch it like Bucky expects him to, like Bucky'd seen him do with Cass and AJ on warm summer nights down in Delacroix, but just lets his hands hover a few inches away until it blinks off outward into the night. Sam's arms fall back down to his stomach.

"You know how a lot of people get seasick when they're lying out on a boat?" Sam asks, a tinge of melancholy in his voice that doesn't match the lazy haze of the night. He doesn't look over to see if Bucky nods, but he does anyway. "Sometimes I think I've got the opposite of that. Watching the stars from solid ground feels wrong in a way I can't really explain."

They'd been in upstate New York for entirely too long, training some of the new kids at the compound to teach them how to work as a team, along with Sam training Joaquín on some of the more advanced techniques with the wings. Bucky's even starting to feel a little homesick for Delacroix, for the allure of Sarah's living room couch, so he can't imagine how much Sam must miss it.

"I heard Cass won his little league game last night," Bucky says, knowing both that talking about his nephews tends to take Sam's mind off of things and that the reminder that Bucky texts Sarah on occasion now might be enough to playful irritate the melancholy away for a while.

Sam huffs a laugh out of his nose and turns his head to look at Bucky, his eyebrow raised. "Man, what did I tell you about talking to my sister?"

Bucky makes an exaggerated show of putting his hands behind his head and getting comfortable, keeping his gaze fixed on the sky above him. "No flirting involved, I swear," he says in a cheeky voice that implies the exact opposite. He's fully aware Sam knows any amount of flirting with Sarah is playful by now, a fun way for both of them to tease Sam considering how obvious it is to everyone around that Bucky's got it bad for Sam himself.

They haven't really crossed any lines on that front yet, even though Bucky's almost positive it's mutual, but they both know they're driving towards it at a pretty steady pace.

Sam reaches over and pushes him gently, and Bucky makes an even bigger show of lurching to the side. "Ignoring the fact that you were absolutely flirting with my sister, yeah, Cass did win his little league game last night. They're going to some kind of tournament in NOLA next week, and he spent like an hour on FaceTime with me last night telling me about all of the stuff he's planning to pack and all of the places he wants to go visit while they're already in town."

Sam smiles to himself with that soft, sweet smile that always makes Bucky's heart flutter in his chest before his grin drops just enough to notice if you're looking.

Bucky's always looking.

"He asked me if I could go watch him and I told him I'd try, but it feels like just about every day there's something new to teach the kids or some new urgent mission to fly out to. Sarah said she'd tape the whole thing for me, but it's still not the same, you know?"

Perhaps bringing up the baseball game wasn't Bucky's best move, he thinks.

Sam sighs and rolls back over on his back for just a moment before pushing himself upright and standing up, lightly brushing off his shorts. "We should probably head inside. Gettin' kinda late, and we have kids to teach tomorrow."

There's a grumpy retort about having to teach these new overpowered children on the tip of Bucky's tongue, but he holds it back and just shakes his head. "You go ahead. I'll catch up soon."

Sam's eyebrows knit together, but he doesn't press. "Night, Buck. Sleep tight."

"Night, Sammy," he replies softly, when Sam's a little too far away to hear.

He fishes his phone out of his pocket and notes the late hour, but he figures Sharon's probably still up, so he dials her number anyways.

"You know business hours don't extend till eleven PM, right, Bucky?" she asks in lieu of a hello.

He thinks about teasing her about her time running a nightclub in the midst of a stolen art selling operation that definitely stayed open past normal business hours, but he decides against it. "Hey, Sharon? Any way that Sam could get this weekend off? Cass has a baseball game."

She hums. "You willing to tag in if the world catches fire?"

Bucky looks off in the direction that Sam had walked off in. "For Sam? Always."

[mischief-and-tea-by-the-sea]

Fandom asks for MCU <3! 3, 5 (Loki), 6, 9, 17 (Tony), 22 (Emma)

3. NoTP?

Scott Summers/Jean Grey, Logan/Jean Grey, Anyone/Jean Grey (I mean, if I have to have her around in a fic and shipped with anyone, it's usually another character I don't dig either), Steve Rogers/Peggy Carter, Anyone/Peggy Carter, Steve Rogers/Sharon Carter, Steve, Bucky, Sam/Brock Rumlow, Tony Stark/Pepper Potts (I mean, I can deal with their relationship as a past relationship turned best friends, but I'm not gonna read or write their ship as I think they weren't really healthy for each other - like Ross and Rachel.) Loki/Grandmaster (I will make references to it as a past thing that Loki did for survival but he hates it). Loki/Thor (There's some pretty-pretty artwork out there, and I will acknowledge that it's gorgeous and can enjoy it as artwork, but as an actual pairing, no. Just not my thing.)

5. Out of all your fanworks that include [Loki], which is your favourite?

Obviously, my on-going WIP series Hemispheres would be the top of that favorite list, but then I'd have to say I'm torn between these two:

What's on your mind, half of the time, (brother mine)

and

A little shy and sad of eye but very wise was he

Both of them feature Loki in vulnerable moments. The first one, he's like 5 and tiny and adorable and scared of the storm. He gets to meet a stranger who boosts his confidence a little. And the second one, he comes back after a grueling time in Asgard with Thor, who's still being far too bullying, and his friends and is really low about it, and Tony gathers everyone up to make a blanket fort (as Loki's never experienced one before), order Loki's favorite take-out, and watch movies to comfort him. Wholly self-indulgent on the comfort side.

6. Show us a bit of a WIP!

From "Too weird to live, too rare to die" (Justin Hammer/Loki)

“So Loki made friends with Natasha by helping her with mission stuff?” Justin roped them back around to the other topic. 

Nodding, he answered, “Yeah.  He did some spellwork for her.  Imbued it into a piece of jewelry that essentially all she’s gotta do is think about how she wants to look, and that’s how she looks.  The spell lasts as long as she needs it to, and then when she’s ready to not look different, she just thinks of herself and bam.  Nat again.  No more dying her hair unless she wants to, no more contacts, no more tech that can blitz out on her.” 

Justin looked impressed.  A little skeptical, him being a tech and science guy like Tony, especially tech, but still impressed.  He wondered how Loki’s ‘magic’ could be utilized in their own tech, but he figured Tony had already been thinking about that. 

“Nice.  Sounds like he’s much better as an ally than an adversary,” Justin remarked as he finished with the last of the dishes.  He dried his hands and hung up the towel again. 

Tony took in how easily Justin took on the domestic task of dishes.  Seems like he learned some humility in prison, after all, and wasn’t looking to be waited on anymore.  Perhaps there was hope for guys like them after all. 

“Much better as an ally, though don’t let the gentle smiles and the fun tea parties he has with Morgan fool you.  He’s still dangerous when he wants to be.  He’s like a cat.  Don’t rub him the wrong way or you’ll find his claws slashing your hamstrings,” he joked, but the serious look in Tony’s eyes said he wasn’t actually joking. 

Justin walked over to the fridge, grabbing a glass along the way, and filled it up with ice and water.  He took Tony’s glass from him to fill it up, too, and handed it back, refusing to see the pleasant surprise in that gaze that followed him around to take a seat at one of the tall chairs at the counter.  Cold, pure water rushed down his throat and gave him time to think of how to respond to what Tony said.  Setting the glass on the counter, Justin turned it around and around, watching as the water remained calm even in its movement. 

“You think Loki’s dangerous to people here and you let him stay?  He’s really close to Morgan from what I hear.  I don’t see him much.  Passing in the halls, when we eat.  That’s about it, but your kid adores him.”  Justin let out a breathy laugh.  “I think she adores all of us, though, so I think that’s just her.  Big heart.”  Like her dad. 

Moving across the kitchen so he could belly up to the counter next to Justin, Tony took a drink of his water and set the glass down.  Two men, both at one time consumed by the big buck, by reputation and prestige and power, by controlling the playing field where weapons and tech were concerned, rivals – not bitterly so but rivals nevertheless, now sitting side by side, drinking fucking water for fuck’s sake, when they used to be dripping in the finest whiskey and women.  Burying the hatchet, and not in each other’s skulls. 

Tony never would’ve believed it could happen, especially not after he and Rhodey had to face down Vanko and the shitstorm he brought that Justin bankrolled. 

It was kind of nice, though, given that one of the last people Tony’d wronged in the past had injected his ex with Extremis, which still made Pepper a fiery handful to deal with, but at least, they’d gotten a handle on it for her so that she did set people on fire with her fists anymore.  While he’d never specifically wronged Justin the way he had Aldrich Killian (and really wronged was a little strong for just saying he’d been a spoiled dismissive asshole), he had been a dismissive asshole, which pushed Justin to make one of the worst decisions of his life. 

“I don’t think Loki’s a danger to Morgan ever,” Tony finally stated and tilted his head to meet Justin’s curious stare.  “I don’t think Loki’s a danger to me or Bruce or probably not Thor anymore.  Not since we’ve all sorta ganged up on Thor and told him not to be a dick to his brother.  The stabbing’s stopped at any rate.  You, though.  He doesn’t know you well enough yet, so I’d just say...tread carefully.  You never know when you’ll end up on a mission with him.” 

“Yeah, about that,” a voice from behind them announced. 

Tony and Justin swiveled their seats. 

Phil Coulson met their eyes. 

9. Write a recommendation of someone else's fic you enjoyed!

Okay look, I have so many bookmarks and fics I could recommend that are tear-jerkers, kept me on the edge of my seat through months and months, that made me swoon, and I could easily give any and all of those. I could and I would! But this asks for one fic, and I'm gonna go with one that made me LOL so hard it woke up dog up from a nap in the other room and had my sister asking me if I was okay because for a second, I couldn't breathe.

Clark's Chicken by @kleenexwoman

I don't normally read DC fanfic. I like DC okay enough to know generally who the major players are, but I'm not invested. However, I am invested in my friends and their creative sparks, unless I'm just really not at all into a particular fandom. I can't really write a full review to say what it's about other than it's not exactly safe for work, definitely not for kids, though teenagers would love this, I think. I think that's why I love it - I'm still 12 and masturbation and fart jokes make me giggle. (There are no fart jokes in this, but discussion around masturbation is.) I want as many people as possible to read this fic because all the laughter in the world could finally heal humanity, I think, and if we could all laugh our asses off at this one, it could drive out the darkness all around us these days. Seriously, I believe this fic has the potential to lighten the world, to drive out the fascists, to heal the sick and sad, to build a protective bubble around the vulnerable - all through the laughter that this fic will grace people with. READ IT AND LEAVE KLEENEXWOMAN SOME LOVE ON IT.

17. What's a book, movie, or show you think [Tony] would like?

Book - American Gods - He really rooted for the New Gods at first, especially Technical Boy and Media, but somewhere in it, he really dug Mr. Wednesday, Mr. World (and especially Mr. World's reveal).

Movie - Real Genius

Show - McGyver (remake)

22. Give us a headcanon for [Emma]

So many people give Emma shit for being cold, stand-offish, and snobby, and because of this, Emma performs that to perfection. However, around those who see past this barrier, she's loving, warm, tender, kind, encouraging, compassionate, and has one of the biggest hearts they've ever met - and she uses her big bucks to take care of the people she loves.

Thanks for the asks!!!

Fandom Ask Game.

[griseldabanks]

Let Me Count the Ways ask game

Requested by Princess of Words from the Fig Tree Discord server

Fandom: MCU Characters: Steve and Bucky (and Sharon) Prompt: "No, I don't care what 'they' think."

Please note this is an AU. I tried to make it work for both of my main AUs, Worth a Thousand and Whole Shards. Basically all you need to know is that Steve and Sharon are married, and Bucky lives with them.

“We have a problem,” Bucky growled.

Steve looked up from the crossword puzzle he and Sharon were working through together in the paper at the kitchen table. Sam always laughed at them and said they were like an old married couple, but...well, they were a married couple, and at least one of them was pretty old. Besides, it was fun.

A brightly colored magazine slapped down on top of the newspaper, and Steve found himself staring at his own face. STEVE ROGERS: TROUBLE IN PARADISE OR POLYAMOROUS THREESOME?! The main photo depicted him walking through a crowd somewhere, holding Bucky's hand. After a moment, he remembered that day, when they'd all gone to Coney Island. He'd grabbed Bucky's hand so they wouldn't lose each other in the crush of people heading towards the Cyclone.

Down the side of the front page were smaller headlines, like No heterosexual explanation for this! and The Open Secret of Captain America's Queer Lifestyle. Quirking an eyebrow, Steve took his arm from around his wife's shoulders and reached for the tabloid, beginning to flip through it. “Oh, apparently I'm bisexual,” he said mildly. “You learn something new every day.”

Sharon laughed, but Bucky's expression was stormy as he dropped into a chair across the table from them. “That trash is all over the place,” he growled, jabbing a metal finger at the magazine. “I could hardly turn around without seeing our faces everywhere.”

“Well, that's hardly new,” Sharon said reasonably, putting a calming hand on his arm. “You're probably always going to be in the public eye somewhat, and it's not always going to be positive.”

Bucky pulled away from her, leaning back and crossing his arms tightly. He sat there, looking uncomfortable for a few moments, before awkwardly muttering, “I can...move out. Today, if you want.”

Steve looked up in surprise from a cursory and not particularly relevant overview of public opinions of homosexuality in the 1940s. “Move out? Why?”

Except for when Bucky had gone off to war before Steve, and the stretch of time when Bucky had been captured by Hydra and didn't remember who he was, Steve and Bucky had lived under the same roof since Steve's mother had died. Even after they'd been reunited and Bucky was stable enough that he could have managed on his own, neither of them had even questioned it. Of course they were going to live together.

Now Bucky scowled at him. “Do you really need me to spell it out for you?”

“You can't let something like this scare you away,” Sharon scoffed, flipping through the magazine to a page plastered with photos of her. “Look—they're actually trying to call it incest!”

“What?” Steve laughed, craning his neck around to look at the article. “How do they figure that?”

“Because the love of your life was my great-aunt, obviously.”

“Peggy and I never went on a single date! And that wouldn't even—“ Steve gave up, groaning into his hands.

Sharon nudged her shoulder against his. “This is the part where you're supposed to say I'm the love of your life, dear.”

Before either of them could continue, Bucky burst out, “So none of this bothers you? The things they're saying?”

“Well, they're certainly being very rude.” Sharon picked up the magazine and walked over to the recycle bin, dropping it in with a satisfying flump.

Steve shrugged in answer to Bucky's question. “We know it isn't true. So does anyone with enough of a brain to not believe everything they read in a tabloid.”

Bucky still looked troubled, tapping a finger against his metal arm. “You don't think it would be better for me to move out or...something? Just to make it clear they're wrong?”

Steve wondered if that 'something' included things like holding hands as they'd done in the picture on the front page, or the dozens of other ways he expressed his affection for his best friend. Wouldn't they have a field day if they knew how many times we've slept in the same bed.

Aloud, he just said, “It sounds like they've already made up their minds. Not much we can do about it now.”

“So you don't care what they think?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “No, I don't care what 'they' think. I never have. And neither should you.”

Their eyes met, and Steve wondered if Bucky was also thinking about the days when he'd been skinny and beset with a whole laundry list of handicaps and ailments. Back then, there were plenty of people who'd said he was nothing but a drain on society with nothing to offer in return. Not worth the effort it took to keep him alive. Better off dead. Some people had even said that to his face.

But two people in his life had made sure he never believed that assessment of his worth: his mother and Bucky. Especially Bucky. Because if someone like Bucky still thought it was worth it to go out of his way to keep Steve around...he must really be worth something.

“Exactly,” Sharon said, taking her seat again and lacing her fingers through Steve's. “You can move out if you want to, Bucky,” she added, holding out her hand to him as well, “but do it because you want to, not because someone's never heard of friendship before.”

Slowly, Bucky's arms unfolded and he let Sharon take his right hand in hers. “I, um....” Clearing his throat, he averted his gaze. “If...you don't mind, I'd like to stay here...for now.”

“I don't think we mind,” Steve laughed, “do we, darling?”

“Of course not!” Sharon said with a bright smile. “If this is what a threesome is, I want it to stay like this forever.”

Steve and Sharon both started laughing, and this time, Bucky joined in too.