#steve would be so confident he has everything all set but blue knows better and it starts a game of blues clues :)

[confetticlues]

i have my fourth knee surgery wednesday morning and it’s so comforting to imagine steve and blue being there for me in the recovery period afterwards 🩷

[hardboiledleggs]

Tattoo Artist Eddie Munson Part 2

Part 1 Here!

I could kiss all of you consensually on the mouth, you were so nice about part 1 I cried several times. Here is the long awaited part 2, which I am considering turning into a full length fic on ao3 so if anyone wants to follow me there here it is! Sorry it is so short! This is mostly a stepping stone for my plan for part 3. As always, if anyone would like to be added to my permanent Steddie fic tag list or the tag list for this fic specifically, let me know below :)

~~~

As a general rule, Steve considers himself a confident person. Unfortunately, there’s something about Eddie Munson that reduces him to a nervous, sweaty wreck with decidedly NOT perfect hair. Every time he pulls the now well-worn scrap of paper with Eddie’s number from his pocket, his heart rate jumps to an unhealthy level, and he stuffs it away. This has, of course, royally pissed off Robin Buckley.

“I mean, Jesus Christ, Steve. What is the point of getting a cute guy’s number if you aren’t even going to use it? I think I would have called him more than you have by now, and he doesn’t even have boobies!”

Steve crosses his arms and lets out a disgruntled huff. “Look, I told him some seriously personal stuff, okay? I doubt he even wants me to call him.”

Robin shoots him a deadly glare as she restocks the chocolate chunk ice cream, her stern look tempered slightly by her ridiculous sailor outfit. Scoops Ahoy is an okay place to work, all things considered, but Steve has considered reporting the ice cream shop to the Better Business Bureau for the uniforms alone.

“Why the hell would he give you his number, then? Please don’t be a dingus,” she snorts as she wipes an arm across her sweaty forehead.

“He probably felt bad for me, okay? Seriously. If I had told you that story, you wouldn’t be like ‘Wow, can’t wait to jump his bones!’ You’d think I was a pathetic dude with daddy issues,” Steve groans, flopping forward against the counter. His track record with guys had been, so far, awful. It was hard enough to be a bisexual man in the 80s, let alone in a small town in Indiana. One wrong move, the wrong word, and he could be arrested or worse. It didn’t give a guy a whole lot of confidence.

“For the record, I wouldn’t have wanted to jump your bones regardless, but whatever,” Robin says dryly. Her eyes are soft as she catches his arm. “Just don’t let yourself lose out on something nice ‘cause you’re scared, okay?”

Steve doesn’t look at her as he tugs out of her grip and starts organizing the spoons.

~~~

Eddie Munson has always hated places like the Starcourt Mall. There are always way too many people, too much erroneous noise, and the workers start to follow you around the store if you start touching everything that looks like it might be soft. However, even he cannot deny the hypnotic pull of a brand-new Tower Records shop.

Weaving in between soccer moms and bubblegum-chewing teenage girls, he skids around a corner and gazes above the heads of the crowd, trying to spot the Tower Records logo amongst the perms. Nothing catches his eye except a blue and red neon sign flashing ‘Scoops Ahoy Ice Cream Parlor’ across the mall. Figuring there were worse places to take a break and get directions, Eddie shrugs and fights his way through the crowd and steps into the nautical ice cream parlor.

The man at the counter has his back to Eddie, but upon hearing Eddie’s boots squeak on the linoleum he turns and begins to recite sullenly, as if from a drilling manual; “Ahoy, are you ready to set off into an ocean of flavor with me as your capt-“

Steve snaps his mouth shut when he makes eye contact with Eddie. In comparison, Eddie’s mouth is gaping like a beached trout, and he doesn’t seem to have the capacity to shut it, because Steve, “tattoo boy who he had moaned and whined about to Argyle for literal hours” Steve, is standing right in front of him in tiny shorts and a sailor’s hat and is that lip gloss?

His face is on fire, smoke might be coming out of his ears, but he can’t bring himself to look away from the shorts. Apparently, the Scoops Ahoy motto was “Serve ice cream and invade Eddie Munson’s wet dreams for at least a month!” Eddie shifts his weight from foot to foot, his discomfort growing as the silence stretches longer. It had been days since they’d met, and Steve hadn’t called once. Wayne had gotten so sick of him asking if he had any messages that he’d threatened to tear the phone out of the wall.

“Well, hiya Stevie. How’d that ink turn out? Thought I might get to hear about it after you left, but I think my phone might be busted? That, or my uncle is lying to me about not getting any messages.” There. False bravado. The tried and true method of any queer man about to get rejected by an obscenely handsome ice cream salesman.

“I’m sorry,” Steve blurts. His hands twitch, as though he wanted to reach across the grimy counter but thought better of it at the last second. “I didn’t know how to call you and… so I didn’t.”

His face is ashen, full lips parted as he breathes. Eddie thinks he might never see a more beautiful thing in his life, but he takes a step back, a false grin stretching his lips into a practiced and careful expression.

“Hey, man, no big deal. I misread things. It happens! You were darling, and I am well-known for my sweet tooth.” He smiles a real smile this time and holds out his hand to shake. “No hard feelings as long as you can point me in the direction of the new record store?”

Steve stares at his ring-clad fingers for too long before he turns and starts to wrestle with the junky cash register on the counter. Something snaps as he yanks it open and fumbles for the receipt paper, tearing off a sheet and beginning to scribble furiously. Eddie is just thinking to himself that this guy must think he’s too stupid to remember one or two sentences of directions when the paper is shoved into his outstretched hand. Steve has scrawled his full name and number in thin, slanted handwriting.

A bubble of hope rises in Eddie’s chest as he stares at the piece of paper in his hand. This isn’t platonic with a capital P. Or at least if it is, the universe is mean and should reevaluate how it operates.

“This way you can call me, because I’m a total chickenshit and am definitely terrified of you,” Steve declares as he gnaws on his bottom lip. “Or if I fucked it up that’s whatever and I get it. The record store is like 15 stores down to the right.” He looks like a puppy someone had kicked and left out in the rain.

“When is your shift over? Or rather, when will you be home and sitting by the phone?” Eddie asks in a breathless rush.

Steve’s face brightens with a shy but triumphant smile. “I’m off at 7, home by 7:15!”

“7:30, loverboy. I need a ride.” The pane of frosted glass behind Steve slides open, revealing a pretty girl in a similar uniform to her coworker, although her outfit isn’t having quite the same effect on Eddie as Steve’s is. Grinning like a hyena, she pulls a whiteboard out from behind her and uncaps a marker, putting a single tally in a column labeled “You Rule” that has thus far remained empty. Steve tosses a waffle cone at her head, which she ducks, before sliding the panel shut once more.

“7:30 then. Got it. Expect my call, big boy,” Eddie bows theatrically. He steps backward, attempting a suave exit, and spins around before he can say anything else horrific and embarrassing like “Need a skipper for your next voyage?”

As he is hurrying out of the shop, he hears a crash and a shout of “Buckley, you are so dead!” Eddie grins and stares down at the phone number in his hand, trip to the record store completely forgotten. Steve Harrington had no idea what he was signing up for.

~~~

If I tag you in error I am so sorry!! Please message me or comment and I will take you off no hard feelings I am super frazzled by the response to this series and very likely have screwed up this list. If I missed your name feel free to absolutely roast me in the comments :) I can take the heat

Tag list (Holy moly here we go) - @mackdaddyofheimlichcountyy @throwbackthrowaway @vampireinthesun @mightbeasleep @steve-the-hairrington @nelotegreitic @swimmingbirdrunningrock @thehumblefigtree @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @idsellmysoulforsteddie @toobluebrunette @azreadytodie @rainydays35 @luna-munson83 @sl1187 @artiststarme @bethebitch @ultrarainbowunicorn100 @doilooklikebees @this-is-moony-lovegood @impeachy @grimmfitzz @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @maya-custodios-dionach @brassreign @kurumeki @zerokrox-blog @starxlark @chaoticvictorianspirit @2nd-star-2-the-rhgt @adankrivervalleynearyou @yikes-a-bee @e0509 @babyblender @shinekocreator @hope-can-be-your-sword @hellomynameismoo @knitsforthetrail @thegingerrapunzel @blindbisexualgoose @4nemo1egend @piningapple @aceflavouredyougurt @cyranyx @fruitandbubbles @eyesofshinigami @thefreakandthehair @prettyboyandthemetalhead @void-library @steddio @jjoesjonas @vecnuthy @twiggspots @spectrum-spectre @henderdads @sweetcreaturetm @morning-rituals @inmoonywetrust @kyoxyukiforever 

[whirlybirbs]

               (   another gif by @unearthlydust​ from this beautiful set !   )

✪   —   VACANT MIRRORS  ;  B.B.  |  3/?

summary: you find out about bucky’s past, he finds out about yours. 

pairing: bucky barnes / f!reader

tags: set before & during tfatws, friends to lovers, therapy positive, trauma healing techniques, ptsd mentions, the normalization of anxiety disorders, and a good ol’ slow burn

word count: 6.4k, va va voom

a/n: oh look out here comes the plot, charactization, and growth between to pals who are maybe starting to feel a little something begin to take shape. but ignore that, there’s danger afoot. no spoilers for tfatws here!

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“You know I have to ask these questions. It’s part of the check-in.”

“Yeah,” you fire back, flat enough to warrant Dr. Hart’s scowl to grow. You can’t see it over the phone, but you know the way her words whip around you means she’s upset, “I know.”

“If you’re not following the action plan set out by the judge,” she begins, leaning forward as her tone drops into a scalding hot sort of seriousness on the other end, “You will go to prison. You know this. So, do you want to spend ten years of your life behind bars? Are you trying to get yourself locked up? Come on.”

You can’t look up from your computer’s screen. Or maybe you can, but right now, there’s a dangerous mixture of anger and guilt and frustration boiling under your skin.

“I’m trying.”

“Trying isn’t good enough for the GRC,” Dr. Hart snaps, “You know this. They’re giving you a chance — they know you’re talented. You have the ability here to go straight, to earn a living, to finally make up for those years of blackhat work.”

“Everything I did,” you fire back, ripping your eyes up to meet Dr. Hart’s, “Was for others. I didn’t get a fucking penny.”

“You’re not Robin Hood,” she shakes her head as her tone softens, “We all make mistakes. But, everything has a consequence. You know this. And this conversation isn’t even considering the other charges.”

“You know the extortion case would never hold up in court.”

Dr. Hart sighs raggedly. “And I don’t intend on ever seeing it play out in court, because you’re going to follow the conditions of your pardon.”

“The GRC is a bunch of fascists—”

“Enough,” she snaps, “If you want to go and appeal your case with the judge, be my guest, but I can almost guarantee you’ll be perp-walked out of that Federal courtroom in cuffs.”

She’s right.

Dr. Hart is right.

Your knee is bouncing, up and down and up and down. You’re wound up around yourself, arms crossed tight, brows knotted. With a shaky exhale, you just nod. You breathe, and you remind yourself that she’s right. She’s right, she’s right, she’s right. It’s not worth it. Dipping yourself back into that world, the layer of the web beneath the surface, isn’t worth it.

The GRC is your way out.

Just be a good little girl and do as you're told.

“So, I’m going to ask you again,” Dr. Hart begins, pen clicking alive on the other end of the phone call, “...Have you engaged in any illegal activities online in the last seven days?”

                                                       ◦   ◦   ◦   ◦   

Inessa Sidrova’s photo stares up at him from its place on the speckled marble counter, stacked neatly next to his notebook where her name is scrawled in chicken scratch — between two other names: Zemo and Henrikson.

His laptop, technically on loan from the FBI, sits beside both.

(When Barnes had agreed in that closed doors meeting to the conditions of his pardon, a certain FBI agent by the name of Jimmy Woo had been rather insistent that Barnes needed a personal computer in order to carry out his portion of the conditions insofar as tracking down the remaining HYDRA pawns in the States. Woo had also insisted, to the agreement of Dr. Raynor, that a personal computer would help better acclimate Barnes to the new world he’d been dropped into.

Woo was even nice enough to take an hour of his own time to show Bucky enough to get started — but was whisked away for some investigation out in New Jersey.)

Bucky rubs the cold vibranium of his left palm into his eye, then exhales long and slow.

He’s done all he can. And still, no leads on the woman.

Rounding the kitchen island, he digs his cell from his pocket. He goes back to staring at that text — the one he’d laughed out loud at the moment it lit up his phone — and he can feel that ol’ bite of anxiousness creep into his arms. His fingertips tingle.

On the television, a laugh track plays over a clip of The Three Stooges. Blue eyes flick upward, and he partially wishes a ladder would put him out of his own self-induced misery.

Outside, the antics of a Saturday night in Brooklyn roll on.

In the last few days he’s parsed through his thoughts enough to realize it’s not telling you that scares him — no, it’s telling you the truth. The whole truth. All of it. After all, the good comes with a lot of bad; the sort of bad you chain in a chest and sink in the ocean. And Bucky finds that, even still, the good is questionable at best. The good is… small. Microscopic. Completely and totally tainted by the fuckin’ decades of brainwashed, war dog bullshit.

He groans and drops his head back against the wall.

He tries, for the next twenty minutes, to formulate some sort of reply to your text message. But, half the battle is figuring out what to say, and the other half is actually typing it out. This whole flip phone purchase was really starting to sting like regret — and as much as Bucky loved technology back before the war, and all the magical possibilities it held, he can’t help but feel like an ornery old man now.

It’s the change. Steve was right. Too much change.

He can’t find the space button and he can’t figure out how to delete the random 3 he’d accidentally punched in — so, with a grumpy huff of disapproval, Bucky simply dials your number.

You pick up on the third ring.

“Don’t you know it’s Saturday?” your voice is a welcomed sound, “The History Channel is running a bunch of old war documentaries you might enjoy, grandpa.”

Bucky snorts, fiddling with the hem of his hoodie. “What makes you think I’d wanna watch that shit?”

“Everyone knows that old men like two things,” your voice is light, half-distracted from the sounds of it, “World War Two, or grilling. And honestly, you don’t strike me as the grilling type.”

“I like a good burger.”

“Yeah?” you snort, and Bucky can hear you shift your phone from one ear to the other, “Is that why you called? To hint at being hungry?”

“No,” he exhales, looking out the window, “No, I was trying to reply to your text but I can’t find the fuckin’ space button. Calling is easier.”

“Oh my god—”

“Shut up,” he barks with a laugh, sitting up, “Don’t even start — are you hungry?”

“Almost always, why?”

“Got any plans tonight?”

“... You do know who you’re asking, right?”

Bucky grins, a little boyish and a little tired. “Good point. Loser.”

“Oh, shut up. You’re the one calling me to hangout,” you snort, leaning to prop your feet up on your desk and lean back. Your chair wheels backwards, far enough for you to get a good look down the street. It’s a nice night, cool enough, and it seems like the whole borough is awake, “But, I’m only hanging out if you tell me what the fuck is up with court mandated therapy. I can’t wait another three days.”

Your anxiety has been pricked the last few days over it.

“... Do I get to pick the place?”

You roll your eyes. “Fine.”

“Great,” he exhales tightly, “I hope you’re in the mood for sushi.”

                                                       ◦   ◦   ◦   ◦   

Izzy’s is busy, but there’s privacy in the bustle.

Bucky had buzzed your apartment’s ringer and you’d flown down the stairs, looking… alive. The sort of alive that was new — like a fresh bud beginning to bloom in spring. It had made him grin, and he’d watched you push a tress of hair behind your ear as you decided it was warm enough for no jacket tonight. The light of the crosswalk sign lit you up like a star.

He was sweating.

Dr. Raynor was right — that was it, of course it was — that it was getting too warm for his usual outfit. So, he’d settled on the next best thing: a sweatshirt that was big enough and black enough that he could bury himself in it. His hands are tucked neatly into the pockets.

No gloves tonight.

He feels naked.

He shoulders the door and holds it open with the toe of his boot as you duck towards the back of the restaurant. There’s a booth in the back by a large bamboo plant — you weave through the place with a new found confidence. There’s anxiousness in your shoulders but it melts when you look back at Bucky. Like a watchful guard dog, he nods.

You settle into the booth, toss your jacket in the corner, and smirk.

“I get out sometimes,” Bucky remarks before you can even say anything. He shifts in the booth and reaches up to scratch his cheek with his right hand, “Not often, but I do.”

“I didn’t say anything...”

“You were going to,” he nearly smirks back, his brows raised as he adjusts the chopsticks on the table, “I know that look.”

You snort, nudging his boot under the table. That works a huffed little laugh out the man across from you. Almost immediately you can sense anxiousness rolling off him — it’s the tightness in his mouth that gives him away, the way he’s fussing with the soy sauce dish and trying to get it to line up perfectly with the marbling on the table. Worry flashes in your eyes.

“Bucky.”

He raises his head.

“You alright?” you ask quietly.

“You have to promise not to flip out.”

Your brows knot tightly — but before you can even question what the fuck he means, he’s casually dropping his other hand onto the table.

And you almost don’t notice at first. Your brain fills the gaps in, figuring it’s his glove. But, then you blink and his hand catches the light and you realize it’s not leather. It’s glittering obsidian, garnished with gold, and it’s moving. Flexing. Seams bending and warping and there’s a gentle hum coming from the appendages and you squint because he’s tapping his fingers on the table and there’s a metallic tik-tik-tik that meets your ears.

Then, your eyes jump to his face.

He looks pained.

You’re confused.

And then you’re not.

“You’re —”

You slap a hand over your own mouth. You have to promise not to flip out. Your eyes are eighty miles wide and your jaw is falling open and you’re leaning forward, whispering in a rushed tone because what the fuck.

“You’re that Bucky?!”

Oh, you feel stupid.

The hostess appears, suddenly. You snap backwards in the booth, Bucky tucks his hand away, and you both muster forced smiles to the waitress. She’s young. Pretty. Her name-tag says Sarah.

She asks about drinks.

Bucky gets a beer.

Slowly, you knock your knuckles against the table and drop your head into your hand. The look on your face is exhausted. “Do you guys have Mai Tais?”

The answer is yes. And you’re glad. Because you’re going to fucking need it.

The two of you are quiet until the drinks come — avoiding one anothers gazes for completely different reasons. Bucky is sheepish, a bit mortified, like he always is when people recognize him. It’s why he shaved his fuckin’ head. It worked well enough but… the arm was usually a dead giveaway.

Meanwhile, you’re wondering if you could shave your own head and disappear. Because there’s no easy way to explain the weird elation swirling in your chest right now.

Bucky’s first to speak. His beer is in his good hand. He inhales quickly, eyes darting to you as he leans forward and whispers incredulously. He speaks quickly and his words are pointed with an edge of curiosity.

“...What do you mean ‘that Bucky’?”

“Y’know, I knew there was a reason you acted like you needed a senior citizen discount. And you know exactly what I mean,” you rush out all while waving your Mai Tai and jabbing the side with the umbrella towards him, “Listen, this is a lot to take in, Mr. Avenger.”

“I am not an Avenger—”

“You helped reverse the Snap. You’re the Winter Soldier. That makes you an Avenger—”

Bucky’s shaking his head, eye screwed shut tightly because the sudden equation to his past self being considered a hero is like being socked in the mouth. He stutters over his words and shakes his head more vigorously, like he’s trying not to hear what you’re saying.

“I am not the Winter Soldier. Not anymore. And it’s not like I’m not on the fuckin’ roster, doll—”

You hold a finger up, stopping him there, and take a long sip of your sunset colored drink. You swallow. You exhale. Bucky swigs his beer.

“One, don’t call me doll,” you say curtly, then raise a second finger. You lean in and squint, “Two… Christ, the haircut really makes a big difference, doesn’t it?”

“That’s what everyone keeps saying,” he sighs raggedly, dismissing your scrutiny.

You puff your cheeks out and exhale. Leaning back in the booth, you try not to feel so fucking insane.

“...I can never have you over now.”

Bucky’s brows narrow quickly and his eyes snap to yours. “What?”

“I can’t have you over,” you explain slower with your eyes rooted to the soy sauce in the corner, “Because I don’t think I could ever handle you seeing my signed and framed Captain America poster from his USO tour in 1943.”

Bucky’s face is deadpan. “You’re kidding.”

“I really wish I was,” you gripe, “It’s an original.”

“...You’re a Cap girl,” he says suddenly, leaning back with this look in his eye. It’s less of a question. You can’t pin it down. It looks like he's damn near traumatized.

Bucky thinks — honestly — that this is the cherry on top. Every girl back then was a Cap girl, too. It figures, now, in this new century where he’s making new friends that… as per usual, Steve gets the cake. That fuckin’ pint sized bastard.

He’ll have to tell him about this.

You yank your eyes up to Bucky’s face. His mortification is shifting to surprise to amusement. You’re fast to sit up, mouth opening to fire a retort — but Bucky’s suddenly really enjoying the look of pure horror on your face at the insinuation. He’s smirking. Plain as day. He swigs his beer.

“No, no—” you raise a finger, “No, stop it. Don’t make it fuckin’ weird, Bucky, it’s not like I have his name tattoo’d on my ass. And I knew a girl in college who did.”

His brows rise sharply and you’re finding you’re regretting everything that’s coming out of your mouth.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you guffaw, gesturing for him to show you his hand again, “I wanna see.”

Bucky sighs and plucks his hand from his hoodie pocket.

With a sort of tenderness Bucky wasn’t prepared to handle, you take his metallic hand into your own. There’s an immediate twinge — one that’s procured by flashes of violence from years of being a walking weapon. He breathes, and he reminds himself that this arm is not the same that tethered him to HYDRA all those years ago.

This arm is his, it is not him.

The sensation is different. He isn’t used to anyone touching him like this; he’s used to the feeling of flesh on the other end of a punch, or a throat caught in his palm. Not the gentle pass of your fingers, delicate and purposeful, over his knuckles.

You turn over his hand, eyes alight with curiosity — and Bucky, desperate to stamp out the hotness growing in his gut, moves quickly to flick your nose.

“Ow—”

“Don’t stare,” he says coyly, “It’s rude.”

The waitress is back. His hand is tucked away, and you wrestle the stupid expression off your face long enough to order a plate of assorted maki rolls and some fried tofu. Bucky orders what seems like his usual — shrimp tempura and spicy tuna rolls.

The waitress, Sarah, disappears with a smile.

You’re grinning.

“So… Does this make me the sidekick?” you whisper playfully.

“Shut up,” Bucky laughs, his lips almost darting into a smile.

You cock your head, pushing your chopsticks across the table with a horribly coy look on your face. It’s comical. “...I think this makes me the sidekick.”

“It — stop it — it does not make you the sidekick,” Bucky says slowly as he sips his beer and pins you in the booth across from him, “I’m not a hero. You’d have better luck asking Cap on that one.”

You grow silent. There’s a question hanging on your tongue. You’re wrestling with yourself — Bucky can see that much. He frowns.

“Spit it out, Goose.”

You blink. “Was that a Top Gun reference?”

“You wanted to be the sidekick.”

You wave it off, blinking into your Mai Tai. Your voice is quiet. Even as you speak, there’s a hesitancy akin to walking on eggshells. “What happened to Cap? Is he… alive? He’s gone off the grid. It’s, like, this massive conspiracy theory online.”

“He’s upstate.”

You blink.

“That’s ominous.”

Bucky shrugs. “Someday I’ll take you. It’s… nice.”

You go quiet. You freeze, drink halfway to your mouth. Bucky can’t help but smirk at that. His laugh is more of a scoff than anything.

“Relax, Miss America.”

“Shut up — do you mean that?”

“What, that I think you’re in love with Captain America?”

“No, you bastard, that you’ll take me. To meet him.”

Bucky’s words are easy. They roll off his tongue without a second thought. He feels… okay. Like this part is okay. Not as bad as he thought it could be. His anxiousness isn’t as heavy now. He feels like he isn’t losing you. But then again, he hasn’t gotten to the bad part yet.

“He’s my best friend,” Bucky explains plainly, “And so are you.”

The admission is warm. As easy as breathing. Two months in the making.

“Your only friend,” you say quietly, offering the joke as a cover for the softening tone that dances over your words. It’s affection, you realize, as you mimic his shrug, “But, go on.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” Bucky chirps, “But, yea, I mean it. He’d like you.”

You raise your chin, wiggling a bit in the booth. It’s pride — and as much as Bucky likes the look of it, he can’t handle the ridiculousness that comes along with it. But, it’s sort of comforting. He knows this playfulness, this easiness, it’s all because he’s him. You trust him. In.a way, it strikes Bucky with guilt. There are wall of his still built up high. Maybe they’re slowly coming down, but… he’s like a stray dog, slow to trust.

“Safe to say,” you breathe, “I have a few questions.”

“I figured as much.”

You sip your drink and swallow. You raise a hand. “But — I wanna know the boundaries. I don’t want to… I don’t want to pry about shit I have no business knowing, alright? It’s your life and even if we are friends, I don’t need to know everything.”

The relief is almost immediate. He thumbs the label of his beer.

“Ask anything. But I can’t promise I’ll be able to give you the answers.”

“And I’ll leave it at that,” you say sternly, propping your elbow up on the table and offering your pinky finger, “Until you want to talk about it. Promise.”

He crooks his pinky in yours, squeezing gently. You smile.

Sarah comes back with the food, and then Bucky offers his usual half-exhausted, half-amused smirk.

“You get three questions now. Then, we shut up and eat.”

You fold your hands neatly over themselves, eyeing your food as you try your best to sort out what questions come up with the most urgency. There’s… a lot. I mean, everyone knew about the Avengers — and everyone had their opinions. The Sokovia Accords, Lagos, the Blip… and SHIELD. Years of bullshit culminating around those who were considered the heroes. The kickback usually ended up on everyday citizens like you. After the initial amazement, the reality of it all set in.

But, to Bucky’s point, he wasn’t really an Avenger.

Nowadays, there really wasn’t a team at all. No up-state compound, no leader, no Stark and no Rogers.

You’re sure the GRC will try — that the military will try. Morale and hope and blah, blah, blah.

You narrow your eyes. “How old are you?”

It’s quick. “One hundred and six.”

“How’d they keep you alive that long?”

There’s a wince that flashes across his face like he’s been stabbed with a white hot poker in the ribs. You see a twitch of irritation bubble across his lips. Not with you. No, it’s that this question is still hard for him to answer. Bucky exhales sharply.

“Next question.”

You feel a pang of guilt flare in your chest. You move along.

“Who kept you alive that long?”

“The Russians. HYDRA, if you wanna get specific.”

You exhale and settle on the fact you now have more questions than answers. But, you nod and snatch up your chopsticks. Enough of the twenty questions game.

In all honesty, it’s not like Bucky’s existence was common knowledge. The Winter Soldier was known mostly, sure, to those who had floated in the same circles as him when he was nothing but a rabid cur on a choke chain. He can’t help but be a bit thankful for the minor erasure of his new self — sure, in the eyes of the U.S. government he was a high-level threat to be reintegrated as soon as possible and surveyed at all times. But, to the average New Yorker, he was just another person. Everyone was so used to seeing the heroes in their costumes with their bigger than life personas and…

Bucky was just Bucky.

Even he didn’t really know who that was. He was starting to.

His pardon had come with some flak from some of the more political news outlets but… somehow, the details of the Winter Soldier’s exact crimes were being kept silent. Probably to avoid panic. And, even then, the connection between the newly alive James Buchanan Barnes and The Winter Soldier hadn’t been made yet in the public eye. He was glad.

The haircut definitely helped.

It’s like he was a walking classified redaction.

Bucky has a sushi roll in his mouth when he finally speaks. “For such a Captain American fan, I’m surprised you didn’t recognize me.”

“Oh, you’re really not gonna let that go, huh?” you say as you chew, covering your mouth. You swallow and waggle your chopsticks at him, “Listen, it’s been a while since I’ve… y’know, had my Avengers phase. That was years ago. It was at its peak when I worked for SHIELD. And besides, you’re kinda new to the whole superhero scene.”

Bucky frowns. “You worked for SHIELD...?”

“For a year,” you say tightly, “Back before the collapse.”

“Only a year?”

“It was for my graduate program,” you wave it off, “I won out on the most competitive internship NYU had to offer. I was working within their cybersecurity division. I will say I spent more time trying to sort of email phishing scams than anything else, though. I’m sure they saw my record and wanted to keep me away from the juicy stuff.”

Bucky squints.

You offer a sheepish shrug.

“I got into trouble when I was younger,” you sip your drink and sigh, “I always liked computers. I used to spend all my time on forum sites just… reading and talking to people and figuring out how these sites actually worked, so learning how to write my own code was just the next step. When I was fifteen, I learned how to tap phones. At sixteen, I was hijacking my neighbor’s internet conenctions and remotely controlling his laptop.”

“Sounds like a good time.”

“Yea, well, he was a sitting Senator who was having an affair with the nanny,” you mutter, “And I was stupid enough to try and blackmail him for cash. I wish I could say I learned my lesson.”

Bucky exhales long and hard at that, like he knows where that snap of misguided judgement goes. It’s not like he’s passing judgement onto you, but… like he knows the feeling. And you manage to not feel so small, then — telling him this is easy. It’s not your favorite part of your life by any means, but Bucky is listening. Really listening.

He fiddles with the paper wrapper of the chopsticks.

“So, less a Goose and more a Kevin Poulsen type, huh?”

You snort. “For an old man, I’m surprised you know who that is. But, I wasn’t hacking into the Pentagon at seventeen. I was too busy doing community service.”

“HYDRA had their eyes on him in the 90s,” Bucky mumbles through a bite of spicy tuna, the memory popping into his mind and flying out before he can stop it, “I remember… I thought his username was stupid.”

“Oh, you didn’t like Dark Dante?”

“Like I said,” Bucky chortles, “Stupid.”

“You wouldn’t have liked mine, then,” you smirk lightly, “It’s worse.”

Bucky raises his brows, somehow doubting that entirely. “Really?”

“...I was hackrabb1t for a long time. Y’know, with a ‘one’ for the ‘i’,” you cringe, “People kept thinking I was a furry.”

There’s a pause. Bucky’s face is set in an unreadable emotion. It’s confusion mixed with amusement mixed with… something else. When he speaks, he clears his throat and tilts his head.

“It’s clever. But,” a pause, “What is a furry? I’ve been seeing that word all over PlentyOfFish.”

Your jaw flies open. You raise your hands as your head reels around. Bucky has a look on his face like he knows, he knows he shouldn’t have asked and he definitely shouldn’t have given you enough context to know where he’s seen that phrase before, because now you’re looking at him like he has seventeen heads and they’re all on fire.

“Y’know what, nevermind—”

“—Oh, no, no, there’s way too much to unpack here,” you lean forward, “You’re on PlentyOfFish?”

“ChristianMingle wasn’t really my speed — stop laughing.”

“Shut up — stop it, stop — this is too much,” you say with a high voice, “If you get catfished, I’m not helping you track the person down…”

“—What the hell is a catfish?” he nearly cries, raising both hands in a desperate shrug, “I don’t even know what any of these words mean.”

“Oh, you sweet, naive, innocent, man—”

“No, no, no, no,” he chirps, raising a finger with a deadly look of seriousness on his face, “No, I am not naive or sweet or any of the above. I’ll take ‘cute’, sure, but none a’ those.”

“Is that what the furries call you on PlentyOfFish? Cute?”

He drops his head back against the booth and stares at the ceiling.

“Our friendship was a mistake, rabbit.”

You choke out a laugh. “Shut up, you walking claw machine.”

You’re both laughing now — quieter but sustained and everytime you think you’ve calmed down enough to sip your Mai Tai, you just have to look at the distraught, scruffy man across from you to break into another fit of muffled laughter. Finally, after what feels like forever, you both manage to calm down enough to finish the plates in front of you.

There’s a warmth that’s settled in Bucky’s chest — it’s eaten away at the usual jitter in his legs, the anxious twitch of his fingers. It’s a different emotion. Acceptance, maybe. Comfort. Affection.  

Then, while you’re piling the last bit of sushi rice into your mouth when your phone, set on the side of the table, begins to go off. It hums erratically, dancing in a circle, and all you do is stare at the name flashing across the screen. You’re smiling, hugging her. It’s from Jaimie’s wedding — out in some big, wide open orchard with the sun setting behind you. The picture there is old; you were both different people then.

Before… everything.

MOM Morristown, NJ

You scowl and stare.

Bucky blinks.

“You gonna get that?”

Quickly, you snap out of it. You reach and silence the buzzing with two quick taps. Quietly, you offer up a somber sigh.

“I never do.”

Bucky frowns again, this time with a worried look that digs deep into his eyebrows. You ignore it on purpose, pushing your plate away and leaning back in the booth. He knows what you’re doing — you’re avoiding his gaze, and therefore his own questions.

“Rabbit.”

“Oh, is that my new nickname, then?”

“It fits,” he chirps before crossing his arms, strategically hiding his metallic hand, “What’s up?”

You grow quiet — then it spills out.

“I can’t talk to her.”

“Why?”

You chew your lip. You bite your tongue and you hold back on the finer points of your anger — ones dredged up by the still present sting of your check-in with Dr. Hart this afternoon.

Here it comes.

“As a part of my pardon, I was ordered no-contact with my family,” you exhale, controlling the level of your voice, reciting the court papers you’d read over and over and over, “It was deemed that further contact would impact my progress towards reformed behavior and judgment.”

Bucky’s eyes are wide. His jaw is tight.

“What the fuck do you mean ‘pardon’?”

It’s your turn to cross your arms now, to ignore the sting of his look. It’s the kind that screams disappointment more than anything. You hate that you’re getting it from Bucky of all people.

“Like I said, I didn’t learn my lesson when I was a kid,” you shirk, “Last year I was arrested on a number of counts — I’d been evading the FBI, CIA, all of them, for years. I was doing it all for people like me. The ones who got left behind.”

Bucky’s tone is flat. It’s serious. His next sentence is less of a question, more of an order. The cadence is rhythmic and it reminds you of your brother the night he found out about the first time you’d been arrested; you decide, then, that Jaimie and Bucky would have gotten along.

“What did you do?”

“Whatever I could,” you wave your hands, “Identity theft, falsified documents, insurance fraud. Anything. There were people, like me, that in a blink, lost everything. Accidents, deaths, evictions and no one did anything for us. The insurance agencies wouldn’t cover damages related to The Snap. Life insurance policies, social security… It all got snatched up by people at the top while the system collapsed around us. I had to pay for my brother’s funeral out of pocket. And there were hundreds of thousands of people just like me, just trying to get by. And everything failed us.”

Bucky is stuck in silence. It’s like mud, dragging him to the bottom of a pond — the sort that’s dredged with misery. In an instant, his veins are on fire with an anger he hadn’t felt in a while. It manifests itself in the tightening of his jaw. He rubs his face and props his elbows up on the table.

“Why won’t they let you see your family?”

You fiddle with your napkin.

“My brother… His wife was on maternity leave when she disappeared in the Blip,” you mutter, “She came back to no job, a dead husband, and no home. Their apartment complex had been abandoned. She’s trying her best to make ends meet. She lives with my Mom in our old home. Neither of them can find work. They… The court thought that I’d be influenced to do something if I was around them.”

“What, like help?”

“They see me as a criminal,” you manage, “But I’m useful, so they’re keeping me around.”

Silence falls between the two of you once more — and the sad look on your face makes Bucky’s chest tight. He can see anxiety beginning to spill over; you’re wringing the napkin, fiddling with the edges. Suddenly, Bucky realizes you’re feeling exactly how he was an hour or so ago.

Your voice is soft. “I’m sorry. I was going to tell you.”

“Looks like we’re two birds of a feather,” he says, knocking the toe of your sneaker with his boot, “Listen, we all do stupid shit. I’ve got a lot worse weighing me down. I get it.”

You look up, sadness glistening in your expression like sun off a lake. It’s harsh. He wants to look away.

He doesn’t.

“... So, that means you’re good with computers?”

                                                      ◦   ◦   ◦   ◦  

That’s how you find yourself in Bucky’s Brooklyn apartment at almost midnight, wandering behind him in the long halls and watching curiously as he digs his key from his pocket and shoulders the door open.

It’s a small apartment. One bed, one bath, a kitchenette and that’s really it.

For its size, it’s hardly lived in.

You suppose it makes sense — Bucky didn’t have a lot of personal belongings, and with the hints he’d dropped about his life before The Blip, you were beginning to understand that he may have never really had that much to begin with.

There’s a blanket on the floor by the television and a single couch pillow. It’s tucked in the corner, behind a small sofa. There’s a chair in the living room, one from an old dining set. At the kitchen counter, there’s a stack of papers and a single laptop. Even though all the kitchen’s wares are older models, the bones of the apartment are good. Bare, but good.

You stop in the doorway to the bedroom and stare at the untouched bed. The sheets are tucked tightly in the corners — there’s something militaristic about it. Across the hall is the bathroom. It’s small. You can see a few amenities scattered across the sink’s top.

Being in here feels something like an open wound.

It was lonely. Quiet. Cold.

“We need to make a trip to HomeGoods,” you mumble as Bucky flicks on the lights, “I get the whole minimalist thing, but sheesh.”

“I don’t have a lot,” he says, kicking off his boots by the door and shrugging off his jacket, “And I don’t need a lot either.”

You watch as his shoulders sag a bit, like he can finally let down his guard just a little in his own space. It’s endearing. You perch yourself up on the kitchen counter as your eyes follow him; he moves to fling open a cabinet and grabs a mug. Then, he hesitates.

“You want tea?” he asks over his shoulder.

“Tea?”

“Dr. Raynor said,” Bucky reaches for a container of tea bags from the top shelf. His henley lifts enough to flash a bit of skin along his lower back and you swear you see a scar, “It would help with my anxiety.”

You swing your legs a little. “Then sure.”

“You can use my Captain America mug,” he chirps, laughing a little to himself, “Seeing as you’re such a big fan…”

“God, I regret even saying anything to you,” you spit as you hop down and lean around him to get a look at the mug, “Did you seriously buy that?”

“It was a gift.”

“Bullshit.”

Bucky snorts as you shake your head and wander backwards, eyeing the rest of his apartment with a bit of astonishment. It’s really nothing impressive — but, you suppose it makes sense. Whatever meager disbursement that the government was willing to give Bucky for his efforts in fixing the Snap was better than nothing.

Your gaze hangs on the blanket in the corner.

He watches you; and he notes the sore sadness that dissolves your posture at the sight of the nest in the corner. A bit of shame colors his cheeks as he heats up the water. When Bucky speaks, it’s slow.

“The bed was too soft. I couldn’t sleep on it,” he shifts from foot to foot and focuses on taking the tea bags out and methodically wrapping the strings around the handles, “Dr. Raynor said that’s a typical thing for soldiers to experience when they come home from war.”

You’re quiet for a while after that, only speaking when he rounds the counter with your tea. He offers it up with a tilt of the head.

“You never got to come home, though, right?”

“No,” comes the short reply as you both watch the lights outside the window, “No, I didn’t. Not until now.”

You nudge his arm with yours. You lean a bit. Bucky leans back.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he manages after a sigh and sip of the tea, “I can’t just feel sorry for myself anymore. I’m trying to fix the wrongs I did — and that’s why I need your help.”

You quirk a brow. He reaches around you and grabs the stack of papers on the counter. With a steady grip, Bucky presents the photo of a woman who looks strikingly familiar. You can’t place her face, but there’s something about her that feels like a slap across the cheek. She’s young here, in a faded photo with tattered edges. Beside her is a man who is laughing. The photo is candid, and they’re both beautiful. They’re both  wearing a uniform — but you can’t place the era or location.

You turn to Bucky for answers.

“Back in the 70s, at the height of the Cold War, HYDRA was working in tandem with the Russians to spy on American forces,” he offers easily, staring out the window, “The American HYDRA cell hadn’t yet been planted. This man, Andrei Kuznetzov, was a spy. He was feeding the Americans information on the Russian nuclear program. His wife, the one in the photo, was ordered to kill him. She refused.”

Bucky’s fingers twitch.

His words are soaked through with pain.

“I,” he continues, “killed him.”

You hold your breath. Then you spare him a mournful look.

“Inessa Sidrova went on to help form the same HYDRA cell that ended up taking over SHIELD here in America,” Bucky mumbles, “She’s dangerous. There’s others like her, ones who I helped create, all over the world. But, she’s my top priority. I just haven’t had much luck tracking her down.”

“That’s why you need my help.”

“I’m 106 years old,” Bucky deadpans, “The microfiches at the library were getting a little tedious.”

“But,” you chirp with a sly smirk, “You figured out how to set up a PlentyOfFish account?”

He shoulders you again as you sip your tea and laugh.

“Shoulda never said anything,” Bucky grumbles, “Dr. Raynor thought it was a good idea. Y’know, to get back out in the world.”

“I can promise you,” you say with a stern shake of the head, “The metal arm will get you plenty of chicks and dudes in due time.”

“Good to know,” Bucky replies as his words lilt with a playful sort of questioning that you purposefully ignore. You’re not feeding his ego today. Maybe tomorrow, after you take a crack at figuring out where this woman is.

It’s going to be a long night.

[rebeccccccaaa]

IᑎᖴᗩTᑌᗩTIOᑎ

_________________________

ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛᴇᴅ: (ANON) Hiya! Could you do smth where the reader is masturbating in her room thinking about Bucky. When then Bucky sneaks in your room hiding from Sam chasing him, he hears you moaning his name and gets flushed but instead of leaving he decides to help you out and show you that the real thing is better than imagining it ? :)) and maybe his POV too ? ☺️ thank you dear. I’d really crave some soft Bucky smut atm.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: Smut!! Minors dni plz, fluff, soft!dom bucky

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: thanks for the request; this was supposed to be a blurb but it’s like three thousand words omggg i can’t stopp nfviuapfgvaioufv

___________________________

“Where is he?” Sam grabbed the counter and shouted startling the people gathered in the kitchen. Steve spilled his coffee, Wanda threw her apples, and Tony choked on his cereal milk coming out of his nose.

“Who!” Steve said angrily. 

“Buck!” Sam growled. 

“We don’t fucking know!” Tony yelled as Pepper cleaned him up with a napkin. Sam bolted out of the kitchen down the hall scanning for the soldier.

“Where are you, you fucking metal-armed freak!” he screamed. 

Bucky on the other hand had slipped easily past your door; just barely cracking it to see an angry Sam Wilson stomping through the hall in search of Bucky. What for? Well, Sam has this fear roaches; he hates them, absolutely despises even the thought of a cockroach.

Bucky printed and cut out the silhouette of a huge cockroach and taped it to the inside of Sam’s bedside lamp so that when he sticks his hand under the shade, he’ll see the fake roach and hopefully scream in terror; well that was more than successful. Now Sam wanted to beat the shit of him for ruining his morning. 

Sam was soon out of sight and Bucky breathed out a breath of relief closing the door completely; locking it just in case Sam tries to come into your room looking for him. You and Bucky were very close, almost too close as Steve would say. He was found with you in your room a lot, whether it’d be playing video games, or eating lunch while watching TV, or listening to music that Bucky missed out on. 

He was in your room a lot so he knew you wouldn’t mind the unexpected visit. After you knew about his little prank; you would die of laughter if he told you about Sam’s reaction. Before Bucky turned around, he heard you.

“Buck,” you breathed out. 

Bucky’s brows furrowed and when he turned around…

“Holy shit.”

ʜᴏᴜʀs ᴇᴀʀʟɪᴇʀ

“He’s gonna kill you,” you grinned at Bucky. He sat next to you with a pair of scissors in hand cutting out the black silhouette of that god awful roach.

“So worth it,” he smirked. 

“You didn’t answer my question though, doll. Why are you up so early? Pretty girls like you need their beauty rest,” he nudged your arm with elbow, making you roll your eyes.

“I just couldn’t sleep. Was tossing and turning all night,” you told him. 

“You know my bed is always available for cuddles that'll put you right to sleep,” he winked at you.

“You wish,” you retorted.

“Every night,” he said, making you feel shy. 

Bucky smirked to himself knowing how his words affected you. It was no secret that was deeply infatuated with you; but you always declined his advances and he respected that always. But that didn’t mean he stopped his endless flirting; never failed to make you laugh.

“You’re so pretty,” he smiled at you.

“Shut up, Buck,” you shook your head, “I’m gonna head back to my room; try and get some shut eye for at least twenty minutes. Let me know how your little prank goes.”

“Will do.” 

You shut your bedroom door and crawled languidly into your bed. You close your eyes and in doing so you’re met with those gorgeous cerulean blue eyes that haunted you every night. You immediately pop back up.

Goddammit, Bucky. 

Fuck you and striking eyes. Fuck you and your perfect nose. Fuck you and kissable lips. And strong arms. And your hands, oh your hands… Stop!

Your body erupted into goosebumps and your stomach fluttered just at the thought of him. Fuck the things you’d let him do to you. Why haven't you, you ask? Well he asked you on a date and thinking it was some sort of bet with Sam, because men are assholes and it wouldn’t be the first that happened, you kindly declined. 

The next day, Sam and Steve both said they didn’t know he was gonna ask you and had nothing to do with it. So you bolted to Bucky’s room only to find another woman curled to his side in his bed. 

“Y/n,” Bucky’s eyes were wide with guilt. 

“Hey, uh- I uh, I just wanted to ask um- what you wanted… for breakfast. I’m buying,” you breathed out a nervous chuckle. 

“I’m ok-” As soon as you heard those words you bolted out of his room hearing him call your name. You weren’t particularly pissed off, or enraged but it kinda hurt. 

Since then however, you don’t think you have seen Bucky even talk to another woman; even at one of Tony’s galas. And he always flirted and joked with you, even more this time than before. You weren’t going to lie, you both loved it and hated it. It gave you confidence while also ruining your panties with just a smile. 

Speaking of ruined panties.

You tossed your sheets over and shimmied out of your pajama bottoms. You took your panties off too pulling one side back to shoot it into the laundry basket since those were going to be in desperate need of a wash. 

You licked your fingers before pressing them against your burning pussy. You bit your lip stifling your moans as you circled your clit. You imagined Bucky’s hand instead of yours and you imagined him whispering dirty things in your ear. 

Your other hand went under your shirt and kneaded your breast softly. You clenched your thighs together approaching your orgasm quickly when suddenly you were a loud scream echo in the building. 

You instantly retracted your hand for a second remembering that Bucky had his little prank; Sam clearly found out now. But you soon put that aside and continued thinking about Bucky. He was so perfect; how could anyone look at him and not fall in love? He was so handsome and charming. And his physique. Holy hell, you would give anything to run your hands all over his muscled torso. Kiss up and down his chest and tell him how beautiful he was. 

You wanted him pressed against you rutting his hips into you like there was no tomorrow. You wanted to feel his fingers touch you the way you're touching yourself right now thinking about him. You wanted to hear him groan and moan in your ear. You wanted all of him. 

“Buck,” you finally moaned out. 

“Y/n?”

“Oh god, Buck!” you shrieked grabbing your sheets to cover your modesty.

“Sorry, I uh- I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to barge in,” he stuttered covering his eyes. 

“Why are you in here?” you asked him.

“Sam is chasing me and I sought refuge here,” he said.

“You can open your eyes; I’m decent now,” you mumbled. 

Bucky slowly brought his hands down looking at you with a guilty expression. He walked up to your bed and sat hesitantly beside you. Your knees were tucked into you and your arms wrapped around them protectively. Heat crawled up your spine and you felt sweaty and embarrassed to be caught so vulnerably, especially by the man whose name you were moaning. 

“I’m so sorry,” you said, avoiding his gaze. 

“Don’t be, we all do it.”

“I know it’s- it’s still embarrassing,” you mumbled. 

“Because?” you stayed silent not really wanting to say it out loud.

“Because you were thinking about me?” Bucky crawled closer to you pulling the sheet from your bare legs gracefully. Your breathing quicken rapidly, your chest heaving up and down. 

“You know, I uh- I think about you too; all the time,” he whispered as he dragged his knuckles up your lower leg.

“You don’t have to imagine anymore. I’m right here. Just say the words and I’ll give everything,” he was so close; his fingertips ghosting the sides of your thighs. 

“Bucky,” you breathed against his lips, “No, stop.”

Bucky instantly backed away, retracting his hands. He looked at you with confusion and you avoided his gaze once again. 

“Buck, I know you just want to sleep with me-”

“Woah what! Did Sam tell you that? Fucking asshole, I’m gonna kill him,” Bucky got up but you pulled his hand back so he’d sit down again.

“No, you- ugh. When you asked me out, a long time ago, I thought you were doing a bet or something with Sam; so I said no to avoid any humiliation. I told Sam and he said he didn’t even know about it, that he had nothing to do with it. So I went to your room to tell you that I liked you back but you were… ‘busy’,” you explained. 

Bucky casted his eyes and head down remembering that day vividly. He knew exactly what happened. He asked you out and when you said no he was crushed. He asked Thor if he had any mead with him; it was the only thing that could get him drunk. And he got on a bike and booked it to the closest nightclub. 

Bucky finished Thor’s flask and he doesn’t even remember what happened that night. He woke up the next morning with someone in his bed and he freaked. He knew he fucked up and he regretted going out. Suddenly you barged through the door with a beautiful smile on your face but when you saw his unwanted guest, all the sparkle in your face died. 

He didn’t see you the rest of the day and it killed him. The woman was nice and actually was very understanding so at least he had that going for him. From that day on Bucky didn’t even look at any other women, let alone give them an ounce of attention. His eyes were simply set on you in hopes one day you’d give him a second chance. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. I didn’t mean for that to happen. I know I fucked up and if you want me to leave, I will.”

“I’m not mad, we’re not together and you have every right to do that. It just kinda hurt that you moved on so fast,” you chuckled a bit.

“I didn’t! I… I just fucked up. I still want you, not just your body; even though you’re so fucking sexy,” he reached out and squeezed your thigh making you grin, as hard as you tried not to. 

“I still think about you all the time. You’re so funny, and beautiful, and sexy, did I mention how sexy you are?” he said, making you laugh. 

“Maybe once or twice,” you giggled.

“I don’t want you thinking that I’m using you. I like you a lot. And I know you like me,” he raised his eyebrow making you sheepish. 

“Sorry about that again,” you chuckled.

“Don’t be. I can show the real thing instead, all you have to do is say the word,” he brushed his nose against yours. It was so tempting. He was just so irresistible. So all hell went out the window and you caved.

“Please,” you whispered.

Bucky pressed his lips languidly against yours, as if he’d done so a thousand times before. His hand slipped up your inner thigh and you gasped softly into Bucky’s mouth. He pushed his tongue in, swirling it around your and your neck craned back as he kissed you deeper. 

His knuckles brushed your wet folds and you shuddered under his touch. His lips trailed down to your jaw and neck as his fingers stroked your folds circled your entrance. You laid back staring up at Bucky who quickly got rid of his shirt before bringing his finger back down to your pussy. 

He slowly inserted a finger past your slick folds carfeully watching your face and the pleasure that was overcasted. You bit your lip staring into his eyes and Bucky grew hard simply from that. He pumped his finger in and out of you feeling your thighs wanting to press together from bliss. 

“Bucky, please I need more,” you whined. 

“Of course, my baby,” he smiled before adding another finger into your entrance. You moaned through gritted teeth feeling already full with just his fingers, you couldn’t imagine his cock. Your shirt had slowly ridden up exposing your belly. Bucky leaned down and kissed your skin, his lips feeling cold in contrast to your hot skin. 

Bucky breathed heavy at the sight of you. You were so beautiful and Bucky felt his heart swell. He’s been pining after you for so long and now you were finally here writhing under him in ecstasy. 

“You look so perfect, baby,” he whispered.

“Fuck, Bucky, your fingers feel so good,” you brushed your hands through his hair. 

“Yeah, you wanna cum? You cum all over my fingers?”

“Yes! Please let me cum,” you arched your chest to the air. 

“Come on, my baby. Let go.” You gushed all over his hand, your body spasming as you orgasmed. 

“So fucking pretty,” Bucky removed his fingers and brought them up to his mouth, sucking his fingers clean. You moaned at the sight of him licking his fingers and you pulled him into a kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue.

Bucky stood up and discarded his pants quickly grabbing his cock. He walked to you and you replaced his hand with your slowly moving up and down his shaft. You circled your thumb over his swollen tip and you could feel his body tremble in your hand.

“Fucking tease, aren’t ya,” he grabbed your jaw and you smiled cheekily. 

He pulled your shirt off your body and his hands instantly went to your breasts, squeezing and pinching making you moan. His erection stood tall against your thigh and you grew needy for him.

“Please, baby. Please, I need you,” you held his face. 

“I gotcha, don’t worry. I’m gonna take real good care of my baby. I’m here,” Bucky whispered in your ear. 

He slowly pushed into you, his cock stretching you out. You whimpered at the feelin, never having felt so full before. Bucky kissed the skin below your ear as he slowly bottomed out. He stayed that way for a moment and soon you started wiggling your hips desperately asking him to move but he wouldn’t.

“Stop moving, doll. I just wanna feel ya,” he kept his face buried in your neck. 

“Bucky,” you breathed out.

“I know baby, you’re fucking tight. Squeezing me already too,” he chuckled.

You continued letting out whines and whimpers and Bucky’s heart nearly exploded. He propped himself on his elbows looking lovingly down at you and moved his hips back before pushing back in. Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling. Bucky kissed you senselessly, moaning deeply into your mouth. His hips thrusted wildly in and out of you, making your toes curled.

“Fuck, baby girl. You’re taking me so well; such a pretty baby,” he praised. 

You couldn’t form proper words; everything fell from your lips when you tried. Bucky is completely ruining you. Rutting into your hips, surely to leave bruises, he grazed your g spot perfectly pulling loud moans from you everytime.

“Ya feel that? Feel how deep I’m fucking this perfect little pussy?” Bucky grabbed your hand placing it on your lower stomach where you could feel his cock poking your hand with each thrust. 

“Fuck, baby. You’re fucking me so fucking good, I’m gonna cum,” yoou whimpered. 

“Say my name when you do baby. I want everyone in this goddamn building to know you’re mine,” his hips became sporadic. 

“Oh fuck; James!” you chanted his real name, surprising Bucky. He wanted you to say ‘Buck’ like you always do but hearing his first name fall from your lips, he only ever wanted to hear you say it reminding him of this very moment forever.

“Fucking hell, baby,” he grunted before spilling inside you. He coated your velvety walls with his hot cum and that was enough to make you fall off the edge too. Your eyes rolled back and your nails dragged harshly down his back. You protruded your chest up to his and Bucky could feel your perked nipples on his skin. 

He watched you with pure infatuation. Your face quickly relaxed to a tired and bliss expression. You breathed heavily out trying to settle your breathing. Bucky looked at your lips and captured them on his own one last time before running to your bathroom to clean you up. 

“You are so beautiful, my baby,” he whispered.

“Fuck, that was so good,” you said fervorly, pulling his flush against your body by his neck.

“And it’s-” he was interrupted by your phone ringing beside you.

“It’s Steve,” you told him before looking at the time at the top left of your screen. You were twenty minutes late to your morning session with Steve. You gasped covering your mouth with your hand in shock. 

“I’m late to my early sesh with Steve,” you laughed hysterically.

“Here, let me,” Bucky grabbed your phone sitting up to talk to Steve.

“Buck no,” you crawled behind him trying to grab your phone but not having the energy to chase his hand.

“Hey, Y/n’s busy.”

You heard a muffled voice, “Doing what, Buck?”

“Sucking my dick,” he said with absolute no hesitation.

“Buck!” you snatched the phone from his hand. 

“Sorry, Steve. I got a bit… distracted. I promised I’ll make it up,” you told him. 

“First of all, gross. Second of all, I’m happy for you two; you’re good together,” he said.

“Thanks, Stevie. I’ll see ya later.”

“Stevie?” Bucky asked, unamused. 

“Oh shut up, Buck. You just embarrassed me telling him I was sucking your dick,” you nudged him.

“You don’t want to suck my dick?”

“Ugh Buck!” you buried your face in your hands.

“Of course I do,” you said, making Bucky tackle you down pressing kisses all over your face.

“Well, this was quite an eventful morning,” he joked.

“It sure was. What do you think happened with Sam?”

---

“And he put a roach in my lampshade,” Sam cried, actual tears. Nat was trying her absolute hardest to not laugh as was Wanda; gripping onto each other’s arms in hysteria.

“It’s ok, Sam,” Steve soothed him rubbing his back. 

“God, where’s Y/n? We were supposed to start training twenty minutes ago,” Steve grumbled, staring at his watch.

“Call her,” Tony said.

Steve stepped aside and Sam continued to cry telling them how he chased him and he knew he ran into your room but it was locked. Nat and Wanda looked at each other grinning like idiots hoping what they think happened happened. Steve came back with a soft proud smile on face.

“What happened with Y/n?” Tony asked.

“She uh, she had to cancel, but it’s cool,” he looked at the girls who smiled knowingly. 

“She’s with Bucky isn’t she,” Sam grunted.

“Yeah, yeah she is,” Steve said, making Sam cry again because he’s not gonna be able to beat the shit of Bucky anymore.

====================

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

@mathletemadison​

@buckybarnes101​

@l-sofiamia-l

[bistevethor]

Steve Rogers Fanfiction Recommendations

Happy birthday, Steve!

I know that there are some (a lot?) of steve fans who sometimes struggle to find fics focused on him, so I am here now putting a list of Steve fics. I was going to fics that I haven't seen recommended a lot and most of the ones on this post have less than 200 kudos only, but I end up putting everything (it's probably easier to put my bookmarks as public but well...). It's a massive list (over 100 fics?), so it's will be separated into several posts/reblogs.

Not all of them are from Steve's POV or even have him as the main 'main' character, but rest assured he played an important role and is featured heavily. Lots of these are friendship-focused but I categorized them. The shippy ones are mostly samsteve, thundershield, and some rare pairings because I don't venture to other ships a lot and when I did it's to the rare ones instead lol. Hopefully, any of you can find some gems from this list and these are as enjoyable or as good as I remembered. I'll continue to update it, hopefully, every time I find new ones.

Fics are under read more.

General

The Rocket's Red Glare

Steve was born on the Fourth of July (no joke), so a party is in order! Unfortunately, PTSD decides to rear its ugly head. Fortunately, Steve's got an entire team at his back to help him through it. And screaming goats.

an entry in the scrapbook of absurdity

In which Steve turns into a baby and bites people.

Baby Steve Adventures

Captain America gets hit by a spell during a battle. The rest of the Avengers look after him.

Do You Remember Being Happy? ('Cause I Sure Don't)

"Dragr," Thor called them. "Demons" Clint had said. "Thieves" is what Steve labels them as. AKA, the one where Steve is captured by creatures that feed off of happy memories, and the team is left to pick up the pieces. Post-Avengers.

In Search of (Bucky, Family, Home)

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov & Sam Wilson

A week following the events of CATWS, Steve recruits Natasha and Sam to help find Bucky.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Do we need to recap again? You were shot three times, beaten near to death by an enhanced super soldier with a metal arm and then almost drowned. Yeah, your ass is going to need a few more days of healing time.”

The Truth When Captains Meet

Steve Rogers wakes up on an alien’s space ship being carried bridal style by Carol Danvers. As far as first meetings go, it’s memorable.

Irish Coffee

Pairings: Jessica Jones & Steve Rogers

Jessica runs into an incognito Cap at a cafe. They form an unlikely friendship of sorts.

The Lifetimes of Steve Rogers (Series)

What happens when Steve Rogers steps onto the quantum platform to return the Stones? Where does he go? What challenges does he find? Who does he meet? How many lifetimes can one man have?

Fifty-Two Pickup

Less than a week after the fall of the Triskelion, Steve Rogers is released from the hospital. Although his physical wounds are almost fully healed, other injuries need a bit more time, and some help from friends.

little kids get big so fast

Steve ends up having to take care of the deaged Defenders.

Grampa Steve's Bedtime Stories

If Mommy was away for work, then Morgan’s Grampa Steve came over to stay with her. He’d tuck her in, let her give Mommy a kiss on video chat, then hand her the picture of Daddy for his kiss. Once Daddy’s picture was back on the bookshelf, Grampa Steve would turn off the bedside lamp so that Miss Friday could cover the ceiling with stars, and ask Morgan what story she wanted to hear.

“Captain Steve, Grampa! Tell me Captain Steve!”

Grampa Steve sometimes read to her from books and other times watched a movie with her, but her favorite by far was when he told her Captain Steve’s Adventures Through the Multiverse.

On Camping Trips

Sam is more Hermione than Natasha is, and Steve doesn't want to be Harry.

Powerful

Steve loses the advantages of the super-soldier serum. This is not a tragedy.

His Dream

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

As if on cue, Steve cut him off with a loud sneeze.

"Yeah. Like that." Sam nodded. "And please sneeze into your elbow next time, dude. You could've just started an epidemic."

"Sorry. Allergies." Steve excused, and Sam raised an eyebrow.

"How do you know it's allergies?" Sam asked, and Steve sighed, putting the ingredients together and solving the mystery of what the gas had actually done.

The answer wasn't ideal. "It feels like the seasonal allergies I had before. Before the serum- and I haven't had them since the serum."

Realization clicked in Sam's head.

"The gas de-serumed you."

Steve swallowed and nodded reluctantly.

OR: Steve gets temporarily de-serumed, with his height and stature staying the same but his immune system being as bad as it was before, and has to stay in the hospital to prevent a severe allergic reaction or illness. Sam stays with him the whole time, making sure he's not alone.

A Strange Encounter

Things have gone awry and Strange is injured. With no other options, he's called for assistance from Captain America and his team.

even if we're apart, i'll always be with you

Steve finds a dirty toy bear at an abandoned gas station, on the way back from a school trip. He brings him home.

As Long as You’re Not Tired Yet of Talking

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

When Steve Rogers tells her, “Don’t be a stranger,” as they’re all going their own ways after New York, it makes her want to laugh.

Draw/Breath

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

Natasha like knowing what makes people tick. She likes knowing things, about her teammates and her coworkers and herself. Oddly enough, sometimes other people like knowing her too.

AKA: Natasha wants to know why Steve isn’t drawing anymore, and takes the long way round to get her answer. Because why not.

With Magic We Do Fly

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers

In Civil War we see Wanda fling Steve into the air with her magic. They must have practiced that, right?

Que Wanda throwing Steve against a wall. Many times.

Just Like We Practiced

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers

Steve had said, in the movie when he asked Wanda to lift him into the building, "Just like we practiced." But just how did they come up with the idea of her lifting people with her powers, and putting them up somewhere like an escalator? Perhaps it was because Wanda accidentally sent a certain tall, blond Avenger face-first into the floor once and he decided he would help her learn to utilize this as a confidence building exercise. Natasha keeps an eye, Thor and Sam help build the training grounds, and Wanda has found her new home. Takes place between AGE OF ULTRON and CIVIL WAR.

Black and White but Red and Blue

They're watching black and white film reels, but Steve sees them in colour.

"My shield may be black and white but it was red and blue. Just like the blue sky under which red blood was spilled. Like Bucky's blue eyes and Peggy's red lips..."

The Road Warriors

Characters: Sam Wilson (Marvel), Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Wanda Maximoff

It wasn't pretty, but somehow the four of them managed to make it through two years on the run.

We'll Fix It

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

Steve has a hard time after his battle with The Winter Soldier and isn't sure what to do with himself. After not seeing him for a week, Natasha finally shows up to his apartment unannounced to figure out how they can get back to work. There is some crying involved.

From Here On Out

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

The Accords, the search for Bucky, the fight at the airport ... In a world where nothing will ever be the same, sometimes the road to rebuilding trust and friendship is a little rockier than it should be.

AKA, the story of Steve & Natasha and how they got to where they are.

Set post-Civil War but pre-Infinity War.

I have this breath and I hold it tight

Parings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers, Clint Barton & Wanda Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff & Vision

Steve finally goes to Wanda’s tiny room and taps on the doorframe, although it’s hardly necessary, with the slightly warped floorboards creaking under his feet. “Hey,” he says. “Got a minute?”

Wanda's been a little withdrawn since Steve broke everyone out of the Raft. She's had a lot to think about.

to you.

Pairings: Pietro Maximoff & Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton & Wanda Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanov, Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff & Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff & Tony Stark

It's Wanda's birthday today. She's not sure how to feel.

New Love

Pairings: Diana (Wonder Woman) & Steve Rogers

Near the end of World War II, Diana Prince finds herself attempting to reconnect to her long-gone, beloved Steve Trevor. However, she comes across Steve Rogers instead.

Sharing Life (And Canned Green Beans)

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

It’s Thanksgiving, and Steve is hiding in the second living room on the 8th floor of the penthouse apartments with a can of green beans.

I'm Fine

Steve slowly began to realize that the problem with being a national icon, a hero, and a role model, is that somehow, he became more than human. He become a symbol, not a person. So when he becomes increasingly unhappy, deeply depressed, and utterly adrift in a world where he doesn't belong, the loneliness and isolation are unbearable. How could anyone believe that an iconic hero like himself was really just an ordinary kid from Brooklyn, dying inside because everything he'd gained still wasn't enough to replace everything he'd lost? How could he possibly bring himself to bleed on the ones he loves? So he tells himself the same lie over and over, hoping one day, he'll believe it.

dogpile

"My dog ate my mission report" An injured Steve remembers something he has to do. Unabashed Steve and dogs fluff. "Didn't peg you for a pet guy." "Allergies."

Alone In This World (Together)

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov & Sam Wilson

“We’re fugitives,” Steve said finally. “It might never get better.”

“The world’s always going to need saving," Sam replied. "We’re still Avengers. No one can take that away from us.” Then, like they hadn't been having an entire conversation before, “So when do we leave?”

“Once night falls.”

Do we have any idea where she is?”

“No.” Steve took a sip of his coffee. “But I know where she’ll be.”

it gets the worst at night

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

Here's how it goes: Natasha sometimes shares a bed with Steve. It's not what it sounds like.

(In which there are Colombian drug lords, awkward boners, cuddly super-soldiers and the Avengers are all giant dorks.)

Shelter

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

Sam and Steve, right after the fall of SHIELD.

Princely Bickering

Pairings: Jane Foster/Thor, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers & Jane Foster, Steve Rogers & Thor

Steve allows Sam to lean up and inspect his head for bruises and blood. He then checks out Steve’s eyes. ‘Do you know where you are?’ Steve rolls his eyes. ‘Don’t be an ass, Cap, apparently you can break.’ ‘London, England, chasing apparently useless Hydra intel despite having about five hundred international arrest warrants out for us because we’re just that stupid,’ says Steve. Sam pats him - gently - on the shoulder. Life on the run isn't easy, especially not after an injury. Fortunately Steve still has a few allies left.

And The Seconds Tick Down

AU of Civil War. How the world ended in twenty steps when Steve died.

"Grant" and "Francis" Go Shopping

Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers

Steve and Clint both have holiday shopping to do for their family of choice, so they make a day trip to an outlet mall, have a few heart to hearts, use some coupons, buy a bunch of presents, and eventually get through their shopping lists.

A Tune Without Words

Pairings: Jane Foster/Thor, Steve Rogers & Thor, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

As he and Sam prepare to begin searching for Bucky, Steve gets various offers of help—some more unexpected than others.

Purpose

Tony Stark wins the fight in Siberia completely by accident.

Steve Rogers does not resist his arrest as he is taken to the Raft.

Sam Wilson, T'Challa, and Pepper Potts pick up the pieces.

Full of Wounds and Still Standing on my Feet

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Wanda Maximoff

The five times Steve looked out for Wanda, and one time Wanda decided someone needed to look out for Steve.

Three Awakenings

The first three times that Steve Rogers woke up during his first twenty-four hours in the twenty-first century.

Making Your Own Future

Characters: Steve Rogers, Diana Prince, Steve Trevor Five times -- plus one -- that Diana Prince and Steve Rogers encountered one another.

Better Living Through Pizza

Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers

Steve takes some time off from soldiering and Avengering to get his head on straight, and Clint is assigned to keep an eye on him, because apparently SHIELD believes in the blind leading the blind. Steve really needs a hobby, since modern television shows baffle him, but Clint keeps bringing him DVDs and pizza.

Five Times Clint Barton Spoke with Steve Rogers about Growing Old and the One Time He Didn't.

Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers

When Steve Rogers reappeared from the past as an old man, there was a lot of catching up to do. Clint Barton made sure nobody got left behind.

Hammer's Totally Heavy-Handed and Incompetent Revenge

"So, at the end of IM2, Justin Hammer swears revenge on Pepper. He waits until Tony and Rhodey are halfway across the world to launch his attack.

Unfortunately for him, thanks to SHIELD, Iron Man and War Machine aren't the only superheroes in Pepper's rolladex. Steve thinks Pepper's just swell and doesn't take too kindly to somebody trying to hurt her."

Cue badass!Steve and competent!Pepper

Fan Mail

Steve starts getting his fan mail and receives an invitation to the prom. Written for a prompt at the Avengers kink meme. It was a great prompt, and so much fun to write and get feedback for!

Prom. Steve 'Grandpa Iceberg' Rogers at a 21st-century high school prom. "This isn't happening. This whole conversation is just an elaborate practical joke. Bruce really just has orders for widgets or something."

Bruce waved the printouts at him. "Fraid not. I don't really do practical jokes. Messing with other people's moods just seems. I don't know. Karmically unwise."

Mascot

Steve runs. People see Steve run. Steve gets adopted by the neighbourhood he runs through every week day morning. He finds this confusing. Tony finds it amusing.

Locks Not Replaced

Tony angsts back at Avengers' HQ, Ross is a bully and Steve makes sure he doesn't get away with it. In other words, there is much regret, a bit on the philosophy of locks, adventure and far too many Robin Hood metaphors.

woof

For a prompt on the avengers kinkmeme: "...something different happens when Steve gets Dr Erskine's serum plus the Vita ray treatment... Steve does get taller and stronger, but when the first full moon hits, he turns into a big friendly looking dog. Yes, he's a weredog, not a werewolf."

Mission: Baby

Pairings: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

The Asset finds himself in charge of the care of a small baby, but somehow he knows—he has to protect the baby from all harm, whatever the cost.

14 Tracks

Pairings: Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Avengers Team 14 tracks from Steve's iPod and how they got on there.

Life Will Rattle Your Bones

Pairings: Erik Lehnsherr & Steve Rogers

Captain America and the Howling Commandos find Schmidt sooner than they thought... wait, what do you mean this is a *different* Schmidt?

In war-torn Germany, the paths of Steve Rogers and Erik Lehnsherr cross, part, and cross again.

come build me up

Pairings: Sharon Carter & Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

“Do you ever feel like -- like you joined up because you wanted to do good. You wanted to do the right thing but somewhere along the way, you just lost the whole fucking plot.”

“All of the time.”

Or: the one where Captain America and Agent 13 give long distance friendship a whirl.

Down in the Worn Out Place Again

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Wanda Maximoff

“You don't look a day over 85, Captain,” Wanda says.

Natasha smiles, just barely, and nudges Steve with her elbow. “She makes jokes now.”

(Post AoU, stories about friendship.)

Satellites

Characters: Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Nick Fury Pairings: Natasha Romanov & Steve Rogers, Minor Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson, Minor Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov

In the immediate aftermath of SHIELD's collapse and Steve's plunge into the Potomac, Natasha considers her place in the world. Also the fact that Steve is depressing.

Timeless Classics

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Avengers Team Five An undetermined number of times (six, apparently) Steve unexpectedly got the reference (sort of), and one time everyone discovered something new together.

you just wait and see

Pairings: Rocket Raccoon & Steve Rogers

“Thor said you’re the captain.” Rogers says, his voice distant, sad smile growing into a sadder grin. “Tough job.”

The Small Hours

Pairings: Steve Rogers & T'Challa, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

"I'm not getting him back, am I." The words were flatly delivered – not a question so much as fatigued resignation. "We will do everything we can to help him," T'Challa quietly replied, but he wouldn't lie, not about this. Not to a fellow warrior he respected on and off the field of battle. "The possibility does exist, however, that the triggers are permanent."

The Man We All Remember From the Newsreels

Still getting used to the twenty-first century, Steve comforts himself with memories of long-gone friends. But Howard Stark, the man Steve remembers, is nothing like the man he sees in the newsreels.

we're all choir boys at best

Characters: Steve Rogers, Johnny Storm

You are totally getting laid tonight. "Please stop talking." You hijacked my brain first, this is totally not my fault.

Epistaxis

Steve doesn't worry the first time he gets a bloody nose that won't quit. But when it happens a second, third, fourth... He, and his teammates, start to get concerned.

You Close Your Eyes and the Glory Fades

His body isn’t his own, he knows that, knew before the procedure that everything would change. That was the easiest thing to wrap his head around, actually, the physical changes. He’s used to his body betraying him, so this is just another thing to learn his way around. But the colors of everything, even the sliver of blue sky he could see, craning his head at the tiny window, look different.

Looking For Answers (From The Great Beyond)

After the Battle of New York is over, and Loki and the tesseract are returned to Asgard, Steve takes a road trip across the country, and tries to figure out what he wants to do next.

Mourning the Future

Steve's ties to the past and the future are pretty tenuous, and the serum ensures he lives in an eternal present state of ever-youthful vigour. When an old war buddy gets handed his last marching orders, Steve has to wonder if everyone will eventually leave.

Riviera Life

Sam and Steve have been traversing Europe looking for Bucky. Not everyone is convinced it isn’t an open invitation road trip.

Voluntary Bros.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Johnny Storm

"Dude, you could be twins, they tested you before they defrosted you to see if you were a clone or something, or if he was a clone," Clint said.

"I want to talk to him, I think. I mean, a girl threw her latte at me last week for not calling her back and this dude felt me up at an art gallery yesterday," Steve said.

Two Brooklynites and One Big Apple

Pairings: Miles Morales & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers

“You did good out there today,” Captain America said, brushing a layer of detritus from his unfathomably broad shoulder. “I’ll see you around.”

“Not if I see you first,” replied Miles, fingergunning with one hand as he sent a web rope fwipping off into the distance with the other, catapulting himself away at tremendous speed.

... in which two superheroes battle with bad guys, embark on community art lessons, and a friendship forms along the way.

Battle Fatigue

Steve thought he was doing okay. Things weren't going great, but they were fine, manageable even, and then suddenly they weren't.

We Become New Yorkers (or: Five Times Steve Rogers Looked For Home, and One Time Home Found Him)

New York is a million cities at the same time. This is how Steve found his.

A beautiful day in the neighborhood

In which Steve and Peter learn that the best way to get through a bad situation is together. And to avoid collapsing buildings. And that concussions are terrible, terrible things.

Leviticus 25

"You want to save Bucky Barnes? You are going to have to put your own house in order first because he is going to need a rock to cling to. You are not ready to be that rock for him. You owe it to him -- and more importantly, you owe it to yourself -- to figure things out, figure out how you can be happy in this time and place, whether or not Barnes is with you."

Strike

Sometimes the road to recovery involves bowling. Conveniently, so does the one to the Grand Canyon.

Conversation in Wakanda

“I have been told that you had the privilege to share a training session with some of our Dora Milaje,” T’Challa says. “May I ask how it went?”

“Well,” the Captain huffs. “There’s no polite way to say it: I had my ass handed to me. Repeatedly.”

He sounds and looks utterly delighted.

Contact Light

Everyone thought computers would be the thing that really blew Steve's mind about the 21st century. They were wrong. When he finds out that he missed the moon landing, it's the start of an ongoing obsession with space that maybe involves Neil deGrasse Tyson, Twitter, and Star Trek marathons.

Twenty-Two

“This is Lucky,” Clint said when a dog got between him and Natasha. Lucky’s vest was bright, like desert mornings and night explosions.

“Does he help?” Natasha asked.

Clint pressed his hands flat on the counter behind him. “He saved my life.”

Natasha looked at Steve, her expression fierce. Steve resisted the urge to yank down his sleeves. Instead, he dug his nails into the puckered skin on his forearms.

AKA An AU in which Steve is a veteran just trying to survive (or not).

Gray

Peter doesn't expect Steve to show up at his house one night when he gets home from school. He also doesn't expect to have a long conversation with him, and choose to be on his side instead.

We're Happy, Free, Confused, and Lonely at the Same Time.

"Tony isn't sure, but he *thinks* Steve Rogers is going to try and argue with him about not being a kid, while wrapped up in a fluffy blanket and plaid pyjama pants watching a Disney movie. Tony really hopes that is the case. The Captain America voice looses all affect when wrapped up in that blanket and Tony can't wait to inform him as such." - The one where Tony realises that Captain America and Steve Rogers are not the same person, and Steve is so much younger then he thought.

This Isn't A Love Song, This Isn't A Fable

Steve's not OK with people's perception of Captain America, no matter what he says or how much he pretends otherwise. It's like no one in this time period realizes that there's more to him than a spangly outfit. And yes, he's including the Avengers in that. ... or, the one where everything's all right, until it's not.

it's safe here in our new world

Post TWS. In which Natasha and Steve go shopping, have Thursday night movie nights, and learn that Natasha loves to platonically kiss Steve. Which is good, because Steve loves being platonically kissed by Natasha.

Shadowboxing

Pairings: Matt Murdock & Steve Rogers

It doesn’t matter how many times you fall – what matters most is how many times you get back up. Steve Rogers knew this lesson far too well and it was one Matt Murdock had endured all his life. With both men at their lowest, could a chance friendship bring each of them to their feet again?

Everybody Eats When They Come to My House

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

“You’ll ruin your dinner,” Sam says, gesturing with Steve with his spatula.

i fear for the calendar; its days are numbered

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

Before she goes off the grid, Natasha gives Steve her phone number. He’s honored that he’s the only one to be trusted with it, but quickly learns that she spends most of her free time texting him Dad jokes.

Status Quo Ante

Pairings: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

A tale in which Sam suspects he should be used to this by now, for values of 'this' that involve certain folks he hangs out with and situations he finds himself in, Team Cap becomes Team Ex-Cap becomes TBD, and nobody but Clint really wants to know what happened to Scott Lang's GI Joes. (Sam Wilson from the final scene to the mid-credits scene.)

The Glass Parade

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov

Steve thinks that he’s seen Natasha be at least three different people in the short time he’s known her, and he isn’t sure which one is real.

In which the most confusing part of the future is how much Steve has in common with Natasha, and the fact that she seems dead-set on being his friend.

Still Life

Steve Rogers and a very modern form of art therapy. (The one where Steve draws himself out of despair and into some notoriety when his cartoons hit the internet, but he's still not allowed to look at Tumblr without an okay from Pepper.)

Selective Service

The serum's given Steve a lot, but it hasn't taken anything away from him. Not even the things he never wanted in the first place.

I'm a Hustler, Baby

Steve Rogers has a talent for pool--and for making others believe he's terrible at it.

The Healing Properties of Felt-Tip Pens

Rapid healing has worked wonders on Steve Rogers' body, but occasionally it really screws with his head. In the aftermath of torture, Bruce Banner helps Steve to reconcile mind and body.

If I Die Before I Wake

It's his job, as their leader, to endure the sadistic focus of their captor, and that is the one thought that carries Steve through.

Even Gods Do

Captain America doesn't have a good relationship with sleep anymore. Also, he's not a toy.

Under My Skin

Written for a prompt on avengerkink: I want to see something where, for whatever reason, Steve's accelerated healing turns out to be a bad thing. Something where the faster healing is making things worse. I would prefer something other than the standard, super-healing allows for more torture without death. “He's lucky – to have the serum, to have you all.” Tony wasn't sure about that first part. When one faced death and destruction every day on the job, there were many advantages to having a healing factor...and a great many disadvantages as well.

A Glossary of the 21st Century

Pairings: pre-Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov

Steve's sick of not understanding what's going on, and the team are not all that helpful, so he starts keeping an illustrated notebook for further research. With the help of wiki, google and Logan he starts to settle in and find his place in the twenty-first century.

Blanket Gift Policy

“You didn’t,” Bucky said, with no real hope of being contradicted. Clint shrugged helplessly and passed him the large, soft bundle wrapped in shiny purple foil.

“Sorry.” Tony covered his eyes with one hand.

“I’m getting a migraine.”

“So,” Bruce said wearily, “counting Clint, me, Bucky, Tony, and Sam, that brings it up to five.”

“Excuse you, mine’s not a blanket,” Sam said. “Mine’s a slanket. Big difference.”

Bucky resisted the urge to throw the whole heap of parcels at Sam’s head. “Because it has sleeves? It’s still a blanket, Wilson. They’re all blankets. Even Thor’s direct-from-Asgard raven gift delivery was a cloak, which just means it’s a blanket with a strap. We all got Steve a goddamn blanket.”

One Tin Soldier

Written for a prompt at avengerkink: Because really, under any other circumstances, why would they follow him when he's some guy who's younger than the rest of them (time as a Capsicle aside), who goes around wearing that spangly outfit, who's not even used to the modern world? Why Steve Rogers, rather than a Norse god or the CEO of Stark Industries or anyone else?

“Love is for children,” she'd said, but respect knew no such bounds. The five times the Avengers accepted Steve as their leader, and the one time they followed without question.

and if there's life we'll see it

Steve is instantly taken with this idea of having the picture of the person calling you flash on your screen when they ring your cell.

Secure Your Own Oxygen Mask (Before Assisting Others)

Steve keeps going, because they need him. Being Captain America - having the serum - is a responsibility and a privilege he takes seriously, and he won't waste it by sitting around resting in the middle of a crisis. But then the work is over, and the original victims of the crisis aren't the only ones needing looking after.

Way of the Eagle

Clint introduces Steve to kung-fu movies. Things escalate quickly.

Walking Wounded

In the aftermath of the battle against the Chitauri, Steve's doing just fine. Until he's not. Fortunately, Thor is a perfect mother-hen, Tony makes decent back-up, JARVIS is a genius, and Soap Operas are life-changing. (Or, Post-Shawarma Feels.)

[stuckybarton]

Sucker For Pain i

SUMMARY: You were new to the team, but what everyone didn't know was you weren't so new to the God of Mischief. CHARACTERS: Loki Laufeyson x Ex!Reader [Ex to Lovers again?] WARNINGS: Profanities. Suggestive Themes. Slight Angst and horrible self-image. Grammar Mistakes. English not being my first language. [Not Beta’d tho] WORDS: 2,956 CHAPTERS: [1/3] A/N; Life happened and yeah, didn’t have much time to write. Not my best work for this mini-series, but I’m fighting through for this. Hope you guys enjoy~

PART TWO | PART THREE

MASTERLIST || Join the Taglist

"Agent Y/N Y/L/N." You introduced yourself the first moment you were escorted into the compound by Director Nick Fury. Multiple sets of faces both new and old had come to greet you. For a moment you wouldn't even believe that this is was the new life you would find yourself to be a part of from now on.

Years in the job for SHIELD before disappearing off the grid to get as much information about HYDRA, everyone had thought you had betrayed them and you had accepted that they would think so lowly of you after all the near-deaths you had to endure on the job. Even with the mission becoming more of a death wish, you had accepted the role Nick had given you all those years ago and now you were rewarded, immensely. A spot on the Avengers as part of the Earth's Mightiest Heroes.

The familiar face of Nat was the first to greet you with a hug. A fiercely tight one, it had been so long since you've seen a friend. Then your eyes fell towards the rest of the team; Bucky Barnes, who you had a few close encounters with during your time with HYDRA. You had witness everything they had done to him and stood on trail to clean his name. Steve Rogers, who, with Sharon Carter, had assisted in guarding Steve while SHIELD was still under HYDRA's control. But among the familiar faces, one stood out the most.

Loki Laufeyson.

To many, the man was a snake, a God that had once brought death and destruction in New York. But to you, he was different, this was the man that you had spent your lonely nights with while under the guise of a traitor. It had once just been a physically thing between the two of you, neither wanting to know about each other's lives. You knew he was a God, a man that had wronged the world, but he had never known about you, the woman that had painted yourself as a traitor for the better of the world. The one that had been called every name on the book for the sake of making sure you did your part right.

Then it got serious between the two of you. Admission of love was told between both of your lips. But it was dangerous for you two to be together especially when you were already told by Fury that you can come back to the surface. You didn't know what side he was on, and you did not have the heart to make him choose if the time would come.

So you two parted. A month ago. The pain still throbbing you like an unattended bullet hole right through your heart. It was still so painful to look at him and not remember him crumbling on his knees begging you to stay. The first sob that escaped his lips and forever haunted your dreams. A never-ending loop in the back of your head as your demons screamed at you for breaking an already broken man.

"I for one am happy you're finally here. Another woman to add to an already Man's Man world in the compound." Nat teased glancing towards the other individuals that had come to know the new face. "With introductions out of the way, you've got a lot of explaining to do for the past few years."

You could only smile at your friend. You did have so much to explain to her, things had been murky between you and Clint, but after everything, Nat had refused to believe you would betray them, betray her, and it was finally a relief to be able to return back home, seeing the people that mean the most to you.

"Tell me about it." You muttered allowing Nat to quickly pull your away from the crowd, but it missed your eyes how he was still looking. Ice blue eyes a contract to the burning gaze he had towards you.

Forget about him. Forget about him. You were here for a new opportunity. No him. Never him.

For the next few weeks, everyone had grown to accept you in your new role as part of the Avengers. You kept up with Steve, Bucky, and Sam during their runs. Sam more than happy to finally have someone that had the same pace as him, but only for you to laugh and out run him just to get a reaction out of the high flier. Tony and Bruce had also found a kinship in you, having provided them enough information about HYDRA's experiments and location made most of their missions easier. Then there was Nat and Clint, your confidant in this new life. Every single moment that was not dedicated to a mission was spent with them; may it be movie night or a simple get together outside the compound, often times bringing Wanda and Vision along just to mess with you and call you a 5th wheel of the group.

But among number of members on the team, everyone had noticed you constantly avoided one Thor Odinson and one Loki Laufeyson. The only real time you would even dare talk to either of the brothers would be during training--other than that, you tried your best to avoid them, Loki most especially. Every single moment that would force the two of you to be in the same room, Loki had a glare while you tried your best to avoid his gaze.

Everyone noticed, everyone didn't seem to worry too much. It comes with having a former-villain part of the team. They thought you would eventually get used to the God's presence just as much as they did.

"You ever gonna tell me what's going on between you and Loki?" Nat inquired avoiding your punch.

What you hated the most about sparring with Nat was her capability of multitasking. Talking and snooping about someone else's business while also kicking their ass in the process--this was the predicament you were in right in this very moment.

"Nothing is going on." You muttered landing back first on the mat after being thrown like a rag doll by Nat. Eyes looking at the ceiling, you wondered if it was a good idea to actually come clean to her about her past with the God of Mischief. "I know what he's done to New York and I think you can't blame me for taking precaution when it comes to him."

Nat now comes hovering on top of you, the narrowed eyes and gentle smirk was all you needed to know--she knew it was bullshit. But when she had stopped pushing you for more information, it was enough for you to just change the subject.

"They found Dominic?" You inquired. One of the first big missions that everyone was focusing on was one of the leading Scientist for HYDRA. With the exposure of HYDRA to the world, some of them had moved away and found themselves in much shadier company, much to everyone's radar now spiking.

Dominic Wagner was, in part, partially responsible for the Winter Soldier program in the modern era. One of the pioneers in moving the project into a much younger sets of test subjects. You lost contact with the man as soon as your got back into the surface, but it had also meant a target was on your back when they found out you were a double agent.

"He's in Russia. Wasting away all the funding for the program with parties" Nat points out. "Still a better way to spend the money that abducting kids everywhere."

You nodded, memories of files upon files for the prospects still haunted you to this day.

"When are you taking him out?" You inquired. In your time with the SHIELD, the red in both of your ledger had made you two a hot commodity if the situation present itself as shoot to kill. Neither of you would hesitate. You knew you would now, after everything, but if it means one less bad people in this earth, you would swallow your new morals.

"Fury wants him alive." She pointed out finally standing back up to her own two feet, leaving you on your back, staring at the ceiling in deep thought. "I know as much as you do, we want him dead for everything he has done, but we need him alive so we can get the others."

You nodded, this was one of the few things you had to get used to as part of the team. Death was best solution in SHIELD--at least in your team, not here. As long as you were part of Steve's team, you would need to choose whether or not killing would be the best option. Hope that you weren't so blessed to be given in your time under.

"I get a first shot when we don''t have any use of him anymore." You muttered finally standing back up with Nat's help. Steps faltering at the sight of the God of Mischief, training with the likes of Peter Parker, Sam Wilson, and Bucky Barnes. A weird mix up, but wasn't hard to understand why.

"Why don't you shoot your shots with him for now." Nat teased, finally making you break from staring at the plain black shirt and green sweatshort-clad Loki Laufeyson. "If we try to ignore the death count during his attack, he is sort-of your type in men." Nat wiggled her brows. quick to avoid you as you attempted to swat her in the ass, eyes now turned away from God and his training partners.

"By type, you mean psychotic with possible Daddy-issue? Then you might just be right." You snort.

"I'm offended you think of me as such, Darling"

Jerking your head to the owner of the voice, how the hell did he sneak up behind you without you noticing. You glanced at Nat in panic and like the traitor that she was, made a terrible excuse of being needed in Bruce's lab. Now being left in the man's presence, you could all but remember the last time you had been this close to the man.

Heartbreaks.

Words that you didn't mean.

Words that he didn't mean.

It still hurt you, and you were sure it hurts him just as much, if not more now, finally realizing why there had been a need for a breakup between the two of them all those weeks ago.

"Here I thought I would have someone to trust. You mortals continue to disappoint me." He hissed.

Your eyes glanced at the other training trio, noticing all three of them were in their own little world to even noticed what was going on between the two of them.

"Tell me, Darling..." He whispered, head leaning towards the shell of your ears. The familiar shiver run through your skin as just his voice. Memories of the very things his silver tongue had whispered had you flustered and breathless, more than from your earlier training with Nat. "Was it satisfying to play with a God?"

Before you could even mutter a word, his constantly gentle hand now covered your jaw, emitting a squeak from your lips and stopping you from saying a word. He was never this forceful, nor did he do anything that would hurt you. Was this the true nature of the man you had finally thought you have been the best part of you. To have loved a man that everyone was right to stay away from?

"Or is it shame finally coming to you, to be ever involved with someone like me?"

You tried to pry his hand away from you, but he was too strong--stronger than you could ever think of being.

"Or is this you taking your opportunity to move from one bed to another? Who will it be this time, Y/N? My oaf of a brother or will it be Soldier out of time? Who will you whore this time?"

And you finally snapped. With a resounding slap, all three individuals had heard your attack on the man and Loki finally releasing his hold on your jaws. A chuckle escaped his lips and only brought the first line of tears to fall from your eyes. You never wanted to believe him to be a monster, but here he was, proving her wrong.

"I am in doubt of the foundation of our relationship for the past years, Y/N. I am the God of Mischief and Lies and the only mortal I had ever truly opened to had done this to me. Lied to me for such a long time, lied about the entirety of our relationship."

"You will never understand."

"Oh no," he chuckled darkly, eyes glaring straight into your own. "I understand well enough to know, you would never love someone like me and I deserve every lie and heartache I am enduring because of everything I have ever done in my past."

Before you could defend yourself and the genuinity of your relationship with the God, he had made his excuse. Leaving you to ponder of the true damage of your breakup with Loki, and the aftermath it had now held for the both of you. He was right, you had lied, and either way, their relationship will fall apart because of those lies.

He was the God of Mischief and Lies.

Yet, he did not expect for this biggest lie to break him the most. The separation had been painful, he had always hoped for a better life with you. Then a month passed since your breakup, he sees you, it hits him like a sharp knife to the chest all over again. He experience the pain of a stab to the chest, but it would never compare to the pain of seeing you in this very compound with the truth of your life that you refused to ever open to him.

This was karma coming to haunt him it seems.

It had been well over a week now since the first time he had actually confronted you about everything. It wasn't how he planned for things to go through. He never wanted to hurt you, but he was a monster after all. A monster that his own father had told his people to avoid. A bedtime story to scare mischievous kids into submission.

He had always thought after everything he had to endure, had to do, had to escape, he could finally live a peaceful life. A life to finally start anew. A life where he could finally change for the best. A mortal woman had made him make those ideas come into reality, you had always became the reason why he would never have his redemption in life.

A bitter idea with no possible resolution.

How could he have ever believed that anyone would ever love someone like him? After everything he had ever done, he was never allowed to be loved. You had proved that somehow.

'Mr. Laufeyson, you are needed for a meeting with the team'

Breaking from his little bubble. He sighed finally returning back to reality, into the little comforts the library could give him. The week had been gruelling for him, three individual witnessed the altercation between himself and you. It had spread like wildfire, but thanking the Gods that no one was able to listen to the conversation.

He had to endure most of the questioning. In everyone's eyes, he was, after all, still under everyone's constant scrutiny. A man that no one could trust. But he refused to say a single word knowing you did the same thing. It was better to keep your mouth shut instead of letting people know exactly what had happened. Somehow that brought a smile on his face. He might not share a future with you, but might as well make the most out of making your life a living hell, as much you did it to him.

Shutting the book he was barely even reading, he placed the book back into the shelf before walking his way towards the meeting room.

He could easily teleport, but he preferred to enjoy his moments of peace without his oaf of a brother breathing down his neck or Stark constantly testing his patience with his quips. It also gave him a moment to school his features, he knew well enough about the mission to know you would also be in attendance. Be more invested in this mission than anyone else.

It was a few things he was relearning about you now that you were out in the open as everyone claims you to be. You were a free spirited being that could meld with anyone you were in the area with. He had watched you throw relentless jabs at Tony during your first few days that had the man surprisingly raise a white flag. But the most dangerous thing he had to learn was the familial relationship you had with one Natasha Romanoff and Clint Burton, two people that he kept his distance with the most.

"Professor Snape has finally graced us with his presence."

Loki has learned since joining the team to choose his battle when it comes to Tony. This was one of those moment. Finding a vacant chair besides his brother, he had taken his seat. A big mistake on his part as he finds from across the table, you sat. In between a glaring Romanoff and Barton.

Wearing a smirk, just to get on the two super spies' nerve, he turned his attention right back into the meeting. He begins formulating a few little schemes to not only get on the two's nerved, but most especially yours.

[bucksfucks]

           amorosa // steve rogers

         chapter two: seal the deal

    chapter one // chapter two // chapter three

                    chapter four // chapter five

              ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

                             main masterlist

summary || after setting up a date with steve you fight back the urge to bail on account of your nerves. an agreement is reached and despite all odds, steve makes you feel relaxed and calm before you’re welcoming him back to your apartment after the night is almost over.

pairing || sugar daddy!steve x reader

word count || 3,111 words

warnings || financial struggles, sugar daddy dynamics, undefined age gap, unprotected sex, fingering, oral, heavy daddy kink, praise kink, size kink, dirty talk — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI

     You didn't know what to expect. You had never done something like this before. 

     As you rummaged through your closet, groaning at the struggle of finding something decent for tonight. You didn't own anything that would match what Steve was wearing, you barely had time to go out as it is.

    Not to mention your financial situation didn't exactly let you splurge on the finer things in life, your phone screen had been cracked for over half a year. You'd been meaning to get it fixed, but you could never justify dropping more than a hundred dollars on something that still technically worked. 

    Your mind flashed back to when Steve dropped the hundred on the bar like it was nothing. Suddenly you felt self-conscious, knowing you weren't nearly good enough to be going out with a man like Steve Rogers, Vice President of Stark Industries. 

    Professional or not, people would be talking and giving you odd glances. 

    You settled on a comfortable, sleek pair of straight cut pants and a simple blouse. Steve had decided on a steakhouse, a steakhouse of all places for a single drink as he put it last night. Another groan as you slipped on the uncomfortable and only pair of heels you owned. 

    A simple black open-toed shoe matched your outfit enough before you grabbed your purse, slinging it over your shoulder. 

    The Uber would be here soon enough and while spending thirty dollars on a car ride to a place you'd have to try not to stick out like a sore thumb, the subway in heels just wasn't an option. 

    The entire ride there your leg couldn't stop bouncing, no matter how much you willed yourself to calm down, nothing seemed to help as you left the modest looking part of the city only to enter into an entirely different world. 

    Luxury brand stores lined the streets, expensive cars parked at their side as your stomach flipped at some of the sights. 

    You didn't fit in here, you were sure your driver was just as confused as you as they kept driving deeper into the city. 

    "Have a good night," he bid you as you thanked him, shutting the car door and letting the late summer breeze billow around you as you looked up at the restaurant in front of you. 

    Bluefin read in a fluorescent blue light as you shook your head, laughing at the ridiculous situation you were in. You pulled at the door, it was heavy and tall before a hostess prompted you. 

    "Do you have a reservation with us, miss?" She asked, eying you up and down as if she knew that you were a fraud, like you didn't belong; and she wasn't wrong. 

    "I uh, have one with Mr. Rogers." You stumbled over your words trying to sound as confident as possible. She nodded her head politely, asking you to follow her before she swiftly turned to lead you through the maze of tables. 

    You took in your surroundings, the dozens of chandeliers hanging from the ceiling to the gold plated booths and shimmering table legs. It was safe to say that this place was way out of your comfort zone. 

    "Mr. Rogers, your guest for the evening," she spoke sweetly, throwing you a small smile as Steve got up to greet you. He placed a kiss on each of your cheeks, the action causing your body to flush as his beard grazed your skin. 

    He smelled exactly like he did last night, though this time it wasn't as subtle. He smelled fresh and clean and you could get lost in those same dashing blue eyes again.

    "I'm glad to see you again." Steve smiles, helping you into the booth before sliding in beside you. It was a very intimate space, his shoulder pressed against your as you placed your purse beside you. 

    Two menus were already placed in front of you, two glasses of water alongside a pitcher in the middle as you fiddled with your thumbs in your lap. Could he tell how nervous you were? 

    "It's nice to see you too," you managed to finally spit out as Steve smiled sweetly, he turned his body slightly so he was facing you, "this place has great seafood, I really recommend the crab cakes." 

    Your eyes lit up at the word food, you had been so nervous that it had barely crossed your mind. A waiter soon approached the table, "can I get you guys anything to drink?" 

    You felt like it should be you serving Steve, instead you just shook your head, "I'm okay with just water." You answered truthfully before Steve smirked. 

    "We'll take a bottle of champagne for the table, preferably rosé from 2012." It sounded like he was speaking an entirely different language. To you, wine was wine, if it got you drunk, it was good. 

    The waiter nodded his head, turning around to leave you both alone. You took a sip of your water when you noticed just how dry your throat was. Steve opened his menu and you followed suit before your eyes ran down the various dishes. 

     Everything sounded good and you heard your stomach grumble at the thought of the crab cakes and maybe even the butternut squash ravioli. Then your eyes ran to the prices, your heart palpated at the thought of them. 

    "Dinner's on me tonight, get whatever you'd like." It's like Steve had heard your internal monologue and decided to put an end to it. You were thankful for that, a wave of relief washing over you as his soft features made you feel safe. 

    "Thank you, really. I don't think I've ever eaten anywhere nearly this fancy," you joked, hoping the humour would absolve you of your awkwardness. Steve chuckled, low and deep as the waiter came with the champagne. 

    It was popped then poured into the flutes and placed in ice before Steve picked his up. 

    "To new beginnings," he spoke. You picked up yours, "to new beginnings," you repeated his words, gently clinking the two glasses together before taking a sip. 

    You had never been a fan of champagne, but this one wasn't too dry nor was it too sweet. It was light and fruity and soon enough you knew it would be enough to quell the nerves. 

    When the food arrived at the table, the conversation seemed to flow much more naturally. Steve didn't say much, asking a question and letting you answer as he got to know you. You found yourself sneaking subtle glances in his direction, admiring his side profile or just how close he was to you. 

    As the bottle of champagne was nearly empty, you felt much lighter as giggles fell past your lips. You had leaned into Steve a little more as the night progressed, his large hand falling to your thigh. 

    "So," the faint echo of your giggle was still heard as Steve's expression turned to a much more serious one. "I think we should discuss our… business opportunity." And just like that, you had sobered up. 

    You nodded your head as Steve cleared his throat. 

    "I'd like for you to join me for things like these. Dinner, company events, fundraisers, yearly ski trips to the alps, you know, the boring stuff." You nearly guffawed at his words. The boring stuff? A trip to the alps? Boring? You could barely believe it. 

    Still, you nodded your head, a silent sign for him to continue. 

    "In return, I'll take care of all your bills and expenses. You'll have plenty of petty cash, we'll call it," he smirked. "All I ask is for your company." He concludes and you swallow, taking it all in. 

    "When you say company, do you mean… " You trailed off, not sure how to delicately ask him if he wanted to fuck you or not. 

    Steve leaned in, his face inches from yours as he squeezed your thigh, "that's exactly what I mean, Princess." 

    The pet-name caused your stomach to somersault as your breath got hitched in your throat. You're not sure if it was the alcohol coursing through your veins or if this was just the effect he had on people. 

    Probably a mix of both. 

    Whatever it was, it caused you to wring your hands in his collar as you crashed your lips onto his. He didn't hesitate, not even for a second as his hands went to cup your face. The kiss left you breathless, spinning, and feeling like you were floating. 

    "Is that a yes?" He asks cheekily and you can't find the words, all you can do is nod your head before Steve is forced to drop your face as the waiter brings him the check. 

    You readjust yourself in your seat, one leg on top of the other as you close your eyes to steady your breathing. 

    Steve grabbed his leather wallet, pulling out a flashy black credit card and handing it to the poor man doing his job without any regard. You bit your lip at the interaction, someone with his money and power, it made the throbbing between your legs only worse. 

    "Let me drive you home." Steve whispered meeting your eyes as you nodded, "oh it's okay, I can just take the train back." You said politely and while you didn't want to, you sure as hell couldn't afford another Uber trip. 

    It's not like you didn't want to take him up on his offer either, truthfully, you weren't sure how you were going to react all alone with Steve. 

    You don't fuck on the first date, but for Steve, hell you'd let him take you in the bathroom of this restaurant. God knows it's probably better maintained than your building. 

    "Please? I don't want you alone on the train at this hour, you'd have me worrying all night and I don't think you'd wanna upset me like that." There was a sultry undertone in his words as his lips twitched into a smirk. 

    You nodded your head, "yes, okay, thank you Steve." 

    When you stepped into the now cool late night summer air a shiver ran down your spine as the valet went to grab Steve's car. You stayed silent, kicking a pebble with your toe as you tried your best not to shiver. 

    You felt Steve drape his suit jacket over your shoulders, "chilly night, huh?" He joked, as you hugged it around yourself. This man was full of secrets, secrets you wanted to learn to lock away in your own mind. 

    "Here you are Mr. Rogers, have a great night." The valet said, acknowledging you both as he opened the passenger side door for you. You slipped into the warm car, an Audi, you recognized the four rings on the steering wheel as Steve got in. 

    The car was quiet, city nose becoming nonexistent as he put it in drive. 

    "Where am I going?" He asked, pulling out of the restaurant parking lot and into the bustling New York City streets. 

    "Queens," you said, admiring the lights outside of your window as Steve chuckled, "no way, I grew up in Brooklyn." Steve commented as you turned your head. 

    That surprised you. A guy like him? From Brooklyn? You guess you should've known by his subtle accent, but it made you smile as Steve continued his way to your apartment. 

    "Well, uh, thank you for dinner, Steve. Really, it was the best food of my life." You chuckled as he returned your smile. "It was my pleasure, you're good company." He joked, squeezing your thigh as a new wave of arousal running through you. 

    You both sat in somewhat awkward silence as you grabbed your keys from your bag, clutching them in your hand. 

    "Do you maybe wanna come up for a cup of coffee? Or tea? I don't really have much to offer." You chuckled, as he smiled, “that sounds lovely." 

    Steve followed you to the front of your building, the old, paint chipped door creaking open before you pressed the elevator button that only illuminated on good days. 

    Today was not that day. 

    You tapped your foot as you watched the numbers descent until the L appeared on the small screen, the bell dinging. You got into it silently, the only sound was your heels against the stained flooring and the electrical whirring of the elevator. 

    Steve kept a respectable distance, his shoulder brushing yours as the elevator car moved up to the eleventh floor. 

    You stuck your key into your lock, jamming it upwards as you fiddled to find the sweet spot before you managed to push the door open, "home sweet home." 

    The apartment was small, a little over five-hundred square feet, but it was more than enough for you. You decorated it with plants and art you'd find at your local markets. It felt cozy and like home, but you knew it was nothing compared to what Steve was used to. 

    You didn't bother turning on any of the main lights, a small light in the kitchen was all you needed as you were finally able to kick off your heels. You dropped to your true height, having to crane your neck upwards to meet Steve's eyes. 

    It was in this moment that you realized just how massive he was. Broad shoulders and long legs held him upright as his now darkened eyes looked you up and down. You had forgotten all about the coffee as you felt his gaze all over you. 

    "You look stunning," he whispered, stepping closer to you. "Words just don’t do justice." He added, snaking an arm around your waist. 

    "Let me show you just how beautiful you are to me." He breathed, mouth close to your ear as you gasped, nodding your head. 

    "Oh, Steve, please." You whimpered, your hands going to rest on his shoulders as he pulled you flush against his body. You could feel him hardening through his dress pants, pressed tightly against your hip. 

    "Call me Daddy tonight, Princess." Steve purred as your stomach flipped before his lips were back on yours. He tasted like the remnants of the champagne as his tongue explored your mouth. 

    "Daddy," you gasped, his lips working his way down your neck as he pushed you further into your apartment. You yelped when he tossed you onto the bed, the moonlight streaming through your curtains and onto the sheets. 

    "That's my good girl, you're bein' so good for Daddy." His praise sends goosebumps over your skin as his fingers begin working on your blouse. You can sense the urgency in his actions, both of your hands having one goal in mind; remove any and all clothing. 

    You barely have any time to stop and admire Steve's build. He's toned, lean and fit and you already love the faint chest hair as he works on your bra. It's discarded soon after, your panties being yanked off before Steve's standing naked in front of you. 

    "Fuck," it's a breath that falls from Steve's lips as he's right back on top of you. His nose traces down your chest, his mouth paying equal attention to both of your nipples before his mouth is floating above where you need him most. 

    Neatly decorated hair covers your mound as Steve places your legs over his large shoulders, spreading you open in front of him as he lets out a low groan. 

    "Princess, you're so wet. Is this all for me? Is this why you've been so squirmy during dinner?" He smirks, his question rhetorical as he uses his fingers to spread your lips open. 

    Your hips are bucking, fists around your sheets as you whine. Steve's tongue is wide and warm against you when it finally connects with you. A lewd moan slips past your lips when he swirls it tightly around your clit. 

    The attention to detail is mind blowing, his fingers slowly slipping inside of you as he works you open. There's nowhere in the world you'd rather be than right here with Steve's face buried between your thighs. 

    "You taste so sweet, Princess." He hums, moaning around you as your fingers tangle in his once neatly styled hair. You tug on the locks, a low groan in response that spreads warmth through your body. 

    "Daddy, pl-please, wanna cum." You're lost in the sensation of his fingers scissoring you open, his tongue flicking tight figure-eights over your clit. 

    "Cum for Daddy, Princess, cum all over my face." He growls, curling his fingers deep inside of you, breaking the coil as your back arches off the bed. 

    You feel like you've just ran a marathon, lungs aching for oxygen, and he hadn't even gotten his cock yet. 

    "Hands and knees, Princess. Show Daddy your ass," he growls, flipping you over as you prop yourself up on shaky knees. You're mewling, wanton and burning to feel how his cock will fill you up. 

    The bed shifts under Steve’s weight as his fingers dig lightly into the flesh of your waist, positioning your hips as his cock nudges your entrance. 

    “You think you’re ready for my cock, Princess?” He taunts as you wiggle your hips against him as he chuckles deeply from within his chest before slowly sinking into you. 

    You both moan at the sensation, your warm walls gripping around him as he stretches you out. 

    “Takin’ Daddy’s cock so well Princess—fuck, feels so good.” Steve grunts, his hips snapping against yours with a force that has you falling face first into the pillows. 

    His one hand goes to rest between your shoulder blades, keeping you planted firmly against the bed as he fucks you deep into your worn out mattress. 

    Your moans are muffled, you're thankful for the position considering your walls are paper thin and you'd rather not have your eighty-five year old neighbour Darleen hear about the mind-blowing sex you were currently engaged in. 

    "You gonna cum for Daddy again? Make a mess over his cock, hmm?" He whispers in your ear, voice hoarse and gravelly as your toes curl and you're cumming again for him. 

    Steve pulls out, fisting his cock in his hands before you're feeling his hot cum painting your back as you're reeling at the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

    You're pulled out of your post-orgasmic bliss when you feel Steve cleaning you up with what? You don't care, you'd do laundry tomorrow, throw it away, all you wanted was to feel Steve's arms around you. 

    He falls back into bed with you, his gentle eyes meeting yours as he chuckles, "if that doesn't seal the deal, I don't know what will."

tagging // @jennmurawski13 | @nakedrogers

any and all feedback is always appreciated! <3

[nastybuckybarnes]

In a Heartbeat  -  Four

Pairing: Fireman!Bucky X Reader

Summary: You’ve always been careful with your heart. With your condition, you don’t exactly have any other choice. The last time you let someone in, you paid the price. A price you don’t plan on paying again. Until Bucky comes in and shatters your carefully crafted world.

Warnings: Language, Fluff, Almost Smut

Word Count: 2.3K

A/n: hello I hope you all enjoy this!! I’m loving this series and I hope to keep updating it and Of Kings and Beasts regularly. Idk though. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE

~*~

“You’re sure I look good?”

Nat groans and climbs off your couch reluctantly, grabbing you by the shoulders and stopping you from pacing anymore.

“You look gorgeous.” You bite your bottom lip nervously, hands itching to come up to your mouth.

Your hair is pushed behind your ears, natural and beautiful, and your makeup is light. Adorning your body is a simple light blue dress that stops just above your knees, as well as a beige cardigan that hangs loosely off of your shoulders.

Nat grabs you a pair of beige heels and shoves them into your hands.

“Put your shoes on and stop worrying. He’s on his way up so even if you didn’t look good there’s no time to change now.” You nod, taking a few deep breaths before crouching down and putting your shoes on. Right as you’re doing up the clasp around your ankle there's a knock on your door.

You freeze in place, looking at Natasha in absolute terror, and she rolls her eyes.

“It’s open!” She calls. You shake your head, one shoe on and the other off as you run to your bedroom.

“I can’t,” you whisper as the door starts to open. Hiding away in your bedroom, you listen to Nat greet Bucky.

“She’s almost ready. Just needs to grow a pair,” The redhead says loudly, her footsteps clomping towards the bedroom door.

She whips it open, ready to give you an earful, but when she sees the genuine fear on your face she reconsiders.

“Beans, you’re gonna be okay. He’s a real gentleman and he won’t do anything that you don’t want to do, I promise.” You take a few deep breaths, trying to hold back tears.

“What if I get hurt again, Nat? I don’t think I could handle it.” The weak whimper that leaves you has her heart shattering in her chest.

“He won’t hurt you. If he does I’ll kill him, I swear I will.” You sniffle and chuckle softly, sliding your foot into your other shoe and doing the clasp up.

“Okay. I think I’m ready.” She nods, taking your hand and giving it a firm squeeze before stepping aside and motioning to the door.

You take a deep breath, lift your chin, then leave your bedroom.

Bucky stands in the doorway, a bouquet of flowers in his grasp. He’s wearing a pair of black jeans and a black button-up, as well as a leather jacket.

“Wow,” he whispers, eyes wide as he takes you in.

“You look... wow.”

You smile shyly at him. “You clean up pretty nice yourself, James.” He chuckles, then, as if remembering he’s holding flowers, offers the bouquet to you.

“I uh... I didn’t know what kind of flowers you’d like... and Steve said to get red roses but Nat said that red roses are for love and I think it’s too early for that because this is our first date and all and I really didn’t wanna scare you away and now I’m definitely talking too much but I’ve been looking forward tot his for.. since we set our real first date and-” Nat interrupts his rambling, hating and loving seeing her usually so confident friend stumbling over his words.

“You’re doing great, Casanova. Keep this up and she won’t even leave.” You glare at Nat over your shoulder, not wanting her to be mean to Bucky.

“Thank you, I love them.”

He got you a bouquet of beautiful lavender roses, white lilies, and an assortment of small little leaves that tie the whole bouquet together.

“Nat, can you put these in a vase for me please?” You hand the bouquet to her after taking a long sniff, smiling eagerly at her. She nods, taking them from you and handing you your purse.

“Now go on. Have fun kids, use a condom and all that.” You groan, risking a glance at Bucky to see that his cheeks are bright pink.

Feeling better at the fact that you’re not the only nervous one, you take his outstretched arm and allow him to walk you out of your apartment.

“So where are you taking me?” You ask, smiling up at him.

“Well, I know this little café that makes these nice little sandwiches. I figured we could start there, grab a bite to eat and see where the day takes us.” You nod, taking a few deep breaths to calm your heart.

~*~

“I’m really glad you gave me a chance, I know things started really rocky but I... I’m glad I get a second chance.”

You smile at him, setting down your cup of tea and nodding.

“Of course. I don’t think I would have ever heard the end of it from Nat if I didn’t anyway.” The two of you share a laugh, him smiling brightly at you.

“I’ll make sure I thank her.” You nod, taking another sip of the decaf tea, heart thundering in your chest.

“I-I’m sorry, I just need to take something. I’m very nervous and my heart-” He reaches across the table and grabs your hand, squeezing gently.

“You don’t need to explain it to me if you don’t want to. Do whatever you need to do to keep yourself healthy, okay? Your health and happiness... those are my top priority.” You swear if it wasn’t beating unbearably fast against your ribs it would melt.

You take your pills as discreetly as you can, but Bucky, being ever the gentleman, excused himself to the bathroom to give you space to do whatever you need to do.

~*~

“I uh... I pushed Steve out of the way when we were in a really bad fire. I saw the beam coming down and it would’ve killed him. So I pushed him out of the way and... took the damage instead. Doctors told me if I had waited a second longer it would’ve been too high up and would’ve got me right in the chest. Instead... it took my arm.”

You sit idling in Bucky’s truck in front of your apartment, the two of you talking for the past two hours.

“Oh James... I’m so sorry.” He shakes his head, smiling at you. “If it hadn’t happened then Steve wouldn’t be alive and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself knowing I could’ve done something. Besides, Tommy thinks it’s pretty cool.” You nod at that, fingers tracing small patterns on his metal hand.

“I uh... When I was younger my mom was really careful with me. She wouldn’t let me do gym class... I could never go out with friends... nothing. One day we got into a nasty fight before I went to school. We called each other names and said awful things...

“I stopped on my way to school and bought an energy drink.” He stiffens beside you, eyes wide.

“I’d never even had caffeinated tea before, but I was so... so angry. I thought that... ‘whatever happens will teach her’. And I drank it. The whole can. I started feeling it halfway through class and when I raised my hand to tell my teacher... I just passed out. Collapsed right there in the middle of math class. They rushed me to the hospital and... I’ll never forget the fear I saw on my mom’s face. They said I almost killed myself. My heart couldn't handle the caffeine and I almost died. So from then on I just kinda... listened to my mom. Lived my life in the safe lane.”

He’s quiet for a long moment, eyes on your pretty face as you continue tracing patterns on his prosthetic.

“I’m glad you took a chance with me,” he whispers.

You look up at him, a shy smile on your face.

“I am too.”

His eyes flicker from your lips to your eyes, and you do the same, silently granting him permission.

He leans in, and before you have a moment to second-guess your decision, his warm lips are against yours.

You whimper, hand grabbing his wrist while the other finds his hair. He leans forward, lips moving against yours as if that is what they were made to do.

After a moment he pulls away, eyes wide.

“I-I’m sorry! I should’ve told you. I shouldn’t have done that. I-is your heart okay?” You giggle, pushing him back into his seat and climbing over until you’re seated comfortably on his lap.

“It's gonna take a little more than some kissing to stop me,” you whisper, bringing your lips back down onto his.

He kisses you with newfound passion, hands gripping your waist and pulling you tight against him. His tongue explores your mouth, dancing with your own and making you feel things you haven’t felt in... ever.

When you pull away to breathe he doesn't stop. No, his lips, teeth, and tongue work their way down your neck until you’re quivering on top of him, body desperate for more.

“Come upstairs,” you whisper, panting against his mouth.

He lets out a weak chuckle then sighs, shaking his head.

“I shouldn’t.” You pull away, giving him a confused look. “Why not?” His hands find your thighs beneath your dress and he rubs his thumbs in circles on the soft skin.

“I... I wanna take my time with you. I wanna take you out again and I wanna wine and dine you real nice. If we just get right to it... It doesn’t feel right.” You go to climb off his lap but he stops you.

“This feels right. I didn’t mean that this,” he motions to where you are,” doesn’t feel right. I just... you already deserve so much more than I can give you, and I wanna do everything I can to prove that I’m gonna take care of you. Believe me, I wanna come upstairs and fuck you until you can’t remember your goddamn name.” You shiver at his words and he chuckles, pulling your hips forward a bit. You gasp as you feel his hard length through his pants, pressing up against you.

“I fucking want you,” he murmurs, leaning forward to press a kiss to your neck. “You’ve got no idea how bad I want you. But you deserve to be taken out and treated like a queen.” He pulls away, flesh hand coming up and cupping your cheek.

“I like you, (Y/n). And I don’t wanna ruin things before they get good.” You rest your hands against his chest, fingers splayed on the warm skin beneath his shirt from where you’ve popped a few buttons open.

“I like you too, James. A lot more than I thought I would. And... if I’m being honest... that scares me.” He frowns, looking up at you and waiting for you to continue.

“I just... what if something happens to you?” His heart melts and he leans up, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, and then another.

“Don’t you worry about me, pretty girl. I’m not going anywhere. Not as long as I’ve got you willing to wait for me.” You grin, nodding and leaning down to press a kiss to his chest. Your lips linger long enough to feel the steady pulsing beneath the skin.

“I’m gonna be waiting for as long as you’ll have me.”

“Good.”

He walks you up to your apartment, hand held tightly in yours and a goofy smile on his face.

When you reach your door you feel sad that the night is coming to an end. Slowly you turn to him, eyes filled with things you want to say but can’t explain.

He simply chuckles softly, metal hand cupping your jaw gently.

“Text me when you get home, okay?” You ask softly, eyelids fluttering closed as he leans down. His lips find yours and you never want them to leave.

They fit so perfectly against yours, you could spend all of eternity kissing him.

Unfortunately, he pulls away after another fantastic moment.

You pull your bottom lip into your mouth, eyes on his as he slowly stands up to his full height.

“You can still wine and dine me even if you stay the night,” you whisper, already knowing what his answer will be.

He laughs quietly, shaking his head while smile lines fan out around his eyes.

“You, (Y/n), are gonna be the death of me. But god, what a way to go.” He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek then a lingering kiss to your knuckles before pulling away slowly.

“I’ll see you soon, babydoll. And I promise to text when I get home.” You nod, watching as he walks down the hallway. He shoots a glance over his shoulder when he reaches the elevator, a smile spreading on his face and red coating his cheeks as he sees you watching him.

Only once the door is closed do you unlock your apartment.

You hardly have time to step a foot in when you hear the door behind you open up.

“Next time you put on a show like that let me know so I can make popcorn.” You giggle, turning to Gladys and shaking your head.

“If we had known you’d be peeping on us we wouldn’t have done anything.” She shrugs, smiling at you. “It’s hard not to watch with a man like that standing there.” You roll your eyes at her.

“Goodnight, Gladys.” She’s already back in her apartment.

“So I’m assuming it went well?”

You nearly scream.

“Nat?! What the fuck!” She laughs, throwing her head back and letting out a good belly-laugh.

“You should’ve seen your face!” You glare at her, throwing your purse at her.

“Not funny! Why are you still here?” You kick off your shoes and groan as your toes finally have time to relax after being in heels all day.

“After last time I wanted to make sure nothing went wrong. But from the sounds of it I almost caught something scarring, didn’t I?” You shake your head, sighing and plopping down on the couch with her.

“He’s a fucking gentleman. For better or for worse.” She nods, hand slapping your knee.

“I told you. He’s gonna treat you right, Beans. I promise.”

[wannabe-fic-writer]

WandaNat x Reader : Safe

Summary: What is it that they say about a woman in uniform?

Warning: Violence

Word Count: 2,481

* * * * * *

“Lieutenant Colonel Y/ln.”

Hearing your name, you stand up straight, the brown paper grocery bag in your hand clutched a little tighter as you do an about-face. 

The mystery man himself, Nick Fury, steps from the shadows of your apartment buildings hallway. Right off you can tell he wants something from you, if not for him just showing up, it’s written in the smirk on his lips.

“It’s been a while Lieutenant Colonel.”

Steam billows from the mug as it fills with coffee, and after dropping a spoonful of sugar in it, you carry the mug over to Fury. Then move to lean against the wall opposite his spot on the couch.

“I don’t think I’m the fit for your special team Nicholas.” 

After you had invited the man in, he’d informed you that he wants you to join the Avengers. His reasons somewhere along the lines of you having special skills and being able to relate to a number of the people on the team. 

You’d given it a little thought as you fixed him some coffee. 

Having just left active duty, you assumed you would have some down time until your next deployment. Not that you were going to be “relaxing” anyway, but still.

“That’s where you’re wrong.” He sips from the mug and sets it on the table,“ you are more than fit. And I’m certain you’d appreciate the distraction.”

You lift your head, taking in his words. They hold deeper meaning and you know what he knows. He knows you go to group therapy with other Marine Corps members, both active and retired. He knows you struggle with dealing with what you’d seen out there. 

“I have an obligation to serve my country Nicholas. That would come before your special team.” You inform him while also avoiding that topic.

He nods,“ an obligation you won’t have to neglect. The second you’re assigned for deployment you can go, until then, you’re an Avenger.”

Just like that, one meeting with the man, and you were walking up the graveled path to the Avengers compound. Fury waiting for you beside the door.

The man smiles at you,“ everyone’s inside waiting to meet you. Follow me.”

Walking into the usual meeting room, Natasha pulls a chair out for her girlfriend. Wanda smiling up at her softly.

The woman takes a seat as well, looking to Steve,“ what’re we meeting for again?” 

Steve shrugs,“ Fury didn’t go into detail.” 

Everyone in the room waits patiently for the arrival of Fury, filling the time with light chatter until the door is pulled open and the man walks in.

Eyes widen at the form that enters behind him.

Natasha’s gaze subconsciously wanders down the uniformed woman. She takes in the way the pristine navy blue and red striped pants fit her legs and the form fitting coat adorned with medals. 

Trailing up her body only to be a little shocked when she meets the woman’s striking e/c eyes. 

The two hold eye contact until Fury speaks.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is Lieutenant Colonel Y/n Y/ln. Lieutenant these are the Avengers.” Fury gestures from the uniformed woman to the group surrounding the table.

All eyes follow you as you go around formally introducing yourself. Starting by shaking Steve Rogers hand as well as Bucky’s. Then saluting Rhodey and mentioning that it’s an honor to meet him.

When you reach her girlfriend, Natasha notices the seemingly nervous pause Wanda has, before rising and shaking your hand. She holds it a little longer, held titling to the side and Natasha knows her girlfriend is reading you.

Based off your expression, you know as well. And you let it happen. She let’s go before it becomes obvious to everyone else and with a nod you move to Natasha.

Up close the woman can’t help but appreciate how good the uniform looks on you. How the coat fits but still leaves much to imagine. 

“Natasha.” She introduces personally, shaking your hand.

Again you nod,“ it’s a pleasure.”

From there you shake Tony’s hand and Peter’s, who does so over excitedly. You then reassume your spot beside Fury.

“Lieutenant Y/ln will be joining your ranks until her next deployment. Simply lending a helping hand on missions.” Fury explains your presence.

Hands linked behind your back, you look at them all, adding,“ but only when need be. I’m not here to take anyone’s position, nor will I be overstepping.” 

Wanda’s little smile at your words isn’t missed by Natasha and she makes a mental note to ask about it later.

“In that case, let me give you the grand tour.” Tony cuts through the silence, walking over to you.

“Lead the way.” You gesture for him to walk first and follow after.

Fury leaves shortly after. In the silence, everyone non-verbally agrees to make you feel welcome unless you prove you should be treated otherwise. 

And it’s a decision that everyone is glad they make. Especially Natasha and Wanda. 

There had been an instant physical attraction toward you from the moment you walked in. That attraction grew the more they saw you and learned about you.

In the beginning the physical part led it. They would see you in the gym at the early hours in the morning, adorned in your uniform camouflage pants and a perfectly fit green t-shirt. Or in that same outfit as you ran with Steve around the compound.

It was clear that the team was growing fonder of you by the day. 

Rhodey had begun speaking with you about your served time and his only to find other common interests with you along the way. Both Steve and Bucky found your loyalty and dedication inspiration and took to that. 

Tony had grown closer to you over a conversation about his company’s departure from weapons manufacturing. You’d simply found it admirable and later became interested in what he was currently doing.

Obviously, impressionable Peter Parker was taken with everything you did. He worked out with you, asked about your service, and took a genuine interest in what you do daily in and out of the Marines. 

But Wanda and Natasha.

The two women learned about you at a slower rate than the rest of the team. For a number of reasons.

Wanda didn’t want to learn about you. Having had been so physically attracted to you the second she saw you, she made it a point to avoid you. She loves Natasha and didn’t want her seeming crush on you to get in the way of that.

Natasha mainly wasn’t sure if she should trust you. You’d come off to her as too perfect.

Personally, you thought the women didn’t take a liking to you. Which kind of sucked. Not only had they seemed like great women based off what you saw from their interactions with the team, but they were incredibly beautiful.

You knew they were together but that didn’t stop you from doing your best to be friendly toward them: speaking in passing or starting conversation when together. In the end you assumed they just didn’t want anything to do with you.

That all changed in the span of two nights.

Both being particularly hard nights for you. Where your PTSD had become too much. 

The first night, due to nightmares, you found yourself awake in the common room with a glass of straight vodka. And Natasha had found you. The far off look in your eyes was one she was familiar with and the pure human side of her carried her to you.

She’d simply sat with you. Her surprise set in when she felt your head resting on her shoulder. A conversation had barely begun between you two, one simply about nature as you both looked out the window, and you’d fallen asleep.

The second night you spent in another country.

Both yourself and Natasha, as well as Wanda, were sent on a mission in Egypt. You all settled in, ate, and went over the mission before heading to bed. 

Wanda couldn’t bring herself to sleep though. Since you couldn’t bring yourself to sleep. 

Your thoughts were loud and she wasn’t trying to listen but she couldn’t ignore it. You’d sounded so scared and anxious. Both emotions she never would’ve associated with your strong and confident persona.

So there was no way she would leave you in that state by yourself. After knocking on your door, she’d offered to make you tea and the two of you sat together. When Wanda noticed that your thoughts hadn’t changed. She used your powers to calm your mind. 

As you fell asleep that night, head resting on her shoulder like you had Natasha the night before, you had no idea how hard your actions had made her fall for you.

People had always been scared of her powers and you just trusted her to use them to help you. Not a single hesitation in your eyes. 

What they didn’t know was how safe they’d made you feel in such a short time.

On your own, there was no way to get the nightmares to stop. You had always just distracted yourself when woken up by them. You’d read, watch nature, workout, and occasionally drink. But going back to sleep wasn’t a thing.

The fact that their presences were so comforting spoke to you.

It all came to a head the next day on the mission.

First having seen how good you looked in your desert camouflage uniform made their hearts flutter, something Natasha would only admit to Wanda. And then on the mission. 

Your group had been clearing the enemies base and were under heavy fire when you saw Wanda using her powers. It was clear the young woman was concentrated and so she hadn’t seen the people aiming their guns at her. 

Natasha had watched in slow motion as you ran to protect her girlfriend. Effectively taking a bullet for her as you ducked for cover and then throwing back a grenade they had thrown in the first place.

Shielding Wanda’s body from the blast sent you both crashing into the wall behind you. But you took the brunt force of it and had fallen unconscious.

Both women were beyond worried for you but had to focus on clearing the building. The second they did, they gave you their undivided attention. 

Working together, they got you back to the safe house and set out to clean your wounds. 

“Wan, remove her jacket and shirt I need to get a better look at the entry point.” Natasha instructed before going to grab a first aid kit.

It was a bit of a struggle to shred your unconscious body of your uniform but the second she did she froze.

Taking in the sight of your mostly bare torso. On both you sides sat tattoos. Tribal tattoos. Your sports bra covered the top of the tattoos that seem to start under your breasts, and stretch down below the hem of your pants.

“Staring isn’t po-” Natasha’s teasing falls short as she sees the cause of her girlfriend’s staring.

But she manages to pull herself together faster than the younger woman. Telling her to stare later because they have to help you.

After having successfully cleaned your wound, Natasha removed the bullet and thanked whatever higher power that no internal damage seemed to be done, and stitched you up.

The two showered and sat in the living room. It was clear they had a lot on their minds.

“I have feelings for her.” 

Natasha almost misses the whispered words from her girlfriend. Almost.

Sighing, she leans back into the couch.“ Me too.”

Wanda scoots closer and snuggles into Natasha’s side,“ so what do we do?”

“Tell her.” 

“Is that-”

“Tell me what?” Your groggy, slightly pained voice meets their ears and they look behind them to see you walking from your room, hand clutching your side.

You hadn’t put a shirt back on which served as a momentary distraction.

Smirking, you ease into the arm chair beside the couch,“ staring is rude.” You joke, effectively pulling them from their daze.

They see the question still in your eyes and look to each other. Should they tell you? How would you react?

“If you aren’t comfortable telling me it’s fine.” You assure, laying back with a a groan.

Wanda takes a deep breath and sits up,“ Y/n, Natasha and I know that this isn’t the most normal situation. And we know that things could always come up, especially with the chance of you being deployed-”

Natasha, seeing the confusion in your eyes, stops Wanda with a hand to her thigh,“ we have developed feelings for you.”

“We?” You’re quick to ask.

Both women couldn’t be saying they like you? Both? 

They nod.

You hum,“ what does that mean? How would it even-” you cut yourself off.

It’s silent as you all think. One solution seeming to circle all of your minds. It’s not unheard of, just unorthodox. 

“You become our partner.” Natasha finally speaks, looking at Wanda then you.

A hand raises to run through your disheveled hair,“ you mean, the three of us in a relationship.”

The smallest of smiles tugs at Wanda’s lips at the idea. Is it scary? Yes because nothing is written in stone and as she said anything could come up. But she’d still like to see where this goes.

You’re special and neither of them could deny that.

A number of thoughts run through the women’s minds when you stand and move to sit on the coffee table in front of them.

They watch cautiously as you hold your hands towards them and just as cautiously, they accept them. Instant warmth. Instant safety. All in a single touch.

“We all know this could end badly, correct?” You ask, knowing full well that it would most likely end badly for you before them.

Scooting to the edge of the couch, Wanda’s thumb strokes the back of your hand.“ We know.” She nods, confirming it with Natasha through a look.

“But we want to try.” Natasha adds, scooting closer as well.

A moment of nervous hesitation sets in. And shockingly to everyone, Wanda breaks it by moving forward to kiss you.

It’s simple, her lips pressing to yours as her free hand cups your cheek. But it’s still an incredible feeling. One you hadn’t felt in seemingly forever and one she finds similar to her first kiss with Natasha.

Said woman joking about missing all the fun and then kissing you as well. 

From there, the three of you spend an extended amount of time(after reporting back to the team) talking about what this relationship truly means. New fears linger, as to be expected, but it’s nothing compared to the anticipation and genuine trust you all have in this. 

* * * * * *

[marvelslut16]

Even teachers can be stupid

Prompt number: 6 “that was impressive”

Fandom: Marvel

Paring: Chubby!Bucky x reader (teacher au)

Rating: T

Word count: 2.5k (this is a lot longer than I originally planned. Whoops.)

Warnings: Insecure Bucky/ self deprecation based on chub. Brock Rumlow being the grade a asshole that he is. Swearing. 

A/N: I apparently only write for Bucky now, lmao. I think I liked this one more in my head.

Teaching high schoolers isn’t easy; trying to teach thirty plus rowdy students six times a day for forty-five minutes each is quite possibly the hardest thing you’ve ever done in your life. As they say, the rewarding things are rarely easy. Each year you get one or two students that are truly affected by your teachings, inspiring them for life. And that makes all the late night grading and putting up with bad behavior worth it. 

What helps you get through each painstakingly long day is the lunch break you share with your best friends, and fellow history teachers; Steve Rogers and James ‘Bucky’ Barnes. Steve teaches U.S. history, Bucky teaches world history, and you teach civics. Some days you talk about your students, others you talk about some tv show one of you watched the night before, and sometimes you each ask advice on questions for the tests you're writing. 

“Peter Parker was attempting to flirt with MJ in the middle of my class today,” Bucky shares, making the three of you laugh. Peter Parker and MJ are both extremely smart, taking all three of your guys’ classes. Peter’s adorable, but you’ve seen how bad his flirting can be when he was into another student Liz a few years back. 

“Are we surprised he was flirting?” Steve cackles at his own joke before he can even finish it. “Tony is his mentor after all.”

You and Bucky join Steve in his laughter, you glance at the brunette admiring the way his smile lights up his whole face and the cute jiggle the little bit of gut he has does. You can feel Steve’s knowing smirk as he notices your lovestruck gaze, he’s been teasing you relentlessly for the past two years about the feelings you so obviously have for his childhood best friend. 

“What are you doing this weekend, (Y/N/N)?” Bucky asks, but before you can respond someone cuts in.

“She’s gonna be with me this weekend, tubby,” Brock smirks cockily, stepping behind you and resting his hand on your shoulder. 

“In your dreams Rumlow,” you grit out, removing his hand from your shoulder and scooting closer to Bucky. 

Brock Rumlow; gym teacher, the office flirt per say, he grew up with Steve and Bucky in Brooklyn and bullied the blonde the entire time they’ve known each other, and overall grade A asshole. He also clearly doesn’t understand the word no, you’ve rejected him at least twenty times in the two years he’s worked here with you and yet he never leaves you alone. 

“You’re already in them gorgeous,” he winks at you, Bucky’s hands curl into fists under the table. He’s fighting the urge to finally let go and punch Brock in the face, like he did countless times growing up when he’d pick on Steve. 

“You’re revolting,” you glare at him, turning to face Bucky you smile warmly at him. “I’m probably just going to grade some papers, drink some wine and eat some ice cream. Why, what’s up?”

“I well,” he eyes Brock, who’s hovering just behind you. “I was wondering if you wanted to go out?”

“Like a date?” your eyes light up with hope, reaching forward you grasp his forearm. 

“Yeah,” he smiles bashfully at the floor, before meeting your eyes again. “I was thinking Wanda’s on Saturday, I’ll meet you there at seven?”

“Perfect,” you beam at him, squeezing his arm lightly. “It’s a date.” 

Bucky excuses himself not long after the interaction, needing to go make some copies before the next period. He gives your hand a quick squeeze with the parting words, “I’ll see you later, doll.” You grin like an idiot watching him leave the breakroom, Steve watching the both of you with a large grin. 

“Well, that was impressive,” Brock takes Bucky’s recently abandoned seat, grabbing the legs of your chair and pulling you into his side. “I even believed you for a second, having the poor fat ass think you actually want to go out with him. You’re totally gonna stand him up, aren’t you?”

“What are you talking about?” you stand from your seat, Brock’s hold on the chair keeping you from moving it away. 

You create a fist with your hand, hiding it behind your back so Brock doesn’t see how much he riled you up. You absolutely hate how he speaks about Bucky, focusing his attention on the few pounds Bucky’s gained over the years you’ve known him. Admittedly Bucky did have abs when you met him, having done boxing almost his entire life, but work started to swamp him and he couldn’t make it to the gym like he used to putting a few pounds on. But you like the little bit of chub more than the abs, there’s something undeniably hot with his body, especially when he’s confident in it. 

“You think Sam would give him some exercises to do or something,” Sam Wilson, another gym teacher and fellow friend. 

The legs to Steve’s chair screech as he stands and gets ready to lunge across the circular table. You put your hand on Steve’s chest to keep him from doing something he’ll regret, or at least keep him from doing something that’ll get him arrested. You glance at the door to the breakroom thinking you hear footsteps in the hallway, but no ones there when you look. 

“Shut the fuck up Rumlow,” both men’s eyes widen at you, you’re normally calm and collected when he pisses you off. The few teachers in the room with you watch on quietly, some in awe that you’re finally going to tell the asshole off, and the rest just happy that someone will finally knock Brock down a few pegs. “I can handle your constant flirting when I’ve asked you multiple times to leave me alone. But I won’t sit here and let you be an ass to James. He’s the sweetest, most considerate man I’ve ever met, and I won’t allow you to say what you want about him unchecked. He makes you feel small-”

“Yeah, cause his gut is so fucking huge,” he laughs, looking around the room to find a colleague to agree with him but no one does. 

“Shut. Up. Rumlow.” with each word you take a menacing step towards him. “You’re an ass to him because you know he’s better than you in every way. He’s kind, smart, sweet, thoughtful, and handsome. Everything you aren’t. So fuck off and leave his name out of your mouth. Or next time I won’t hold Stevie back, in fact I’ll join him in beating your ass.”

You’re about to leave when you notice Bucky left his travel mug on the table, grabbing it you head to the social studies office.  Upon arriving you see that the copies Bucky needed to get are sitting on his desk, which is beside yours, but there’s no Bucky in sight. You let out a small sigh, you wanted to see him one last time before class starts. 

At the end of the day Bucky isn’t waiting in the office for you and Steve like normal, instead his bag and jacket are missing from his desk. Maybe he’s nervous about the date, you think to yourself. There’s no other reason he wouldn’t be waiting for you. You try texting him a few times the rest of the night, only to be met with radio silence. You text Steve and ask him if he's heard from Bucky, and apparently he’s only receiving one word answers. 

The next day you start getting ready for your date at three in the afternoon, it’s way too early but you want to look perfect for him. You spend an hour and a half trying to figure out your hair, an hour on your makeup, and two hours trying on every single thing in your closet. You finally settle on a lace royal blue dress, it has a v-neck and cap sleeves. It’s Bucky’s favorite color. 

You leave your house at six thirty, arriving at Wanda’s a little early. But you don’t care if you seem eager, because you are. You finally get to go out with James! Bucky’s never late, so when seven comes and goes and he’s not there you’re shocked. You sit at your table like a fool until eight-thirty, the hostess and your waiter giving you looks of pity. James stood you up. 

You spend the rest of the weekend sulking and eating lots of ice cream. You fall further behind on your grading but you don’t care, Bucky hasn’t reached out to you. You refuse to text or call first, expecting him to call and apologize profusely and say there was some mix up. But he doesn’t and he won’t. 

You arrive at work on Monday right before first period starts, you know it’s unprofessional but you don’t know if you can face Bucky yet. When third period rolls around, which you have off, you head to Steve’s room to talk to him. His students are taking a test that period, so you know he can step away. You lightly knock on the door, opening it so you’re half in the room and half in the hall. 

“Sorry for interrupting you guys, you smile at his students who looked up from their test to see who was at the door. “I need to borrow Mr. Rogers for a minute.”

“Get back to work,” he tells his students, though his gaze remains on you. “And eyes on your own paper Flash.” You step back into the hall, Steve soon joining you and shutting the door so no nosey student can over hear.

“Have you talked to Bucky?” you ask him nervously. 

“That’s why you pulled me out of class?” Steve lets out an exasperated sigh and leans on a set of lockers. “To talk about your date?”

“He stood me up Steve,” tears start to make their way to the surface, you thought you had cried all of your tears this weekend, but apparently not.

“What?” Steve’s in shock, he can’t believe that Bucky would do that. “There has to have been some mistake.”

“I looked like an idiot!” you whisper shout, mindful that Bucky’s classroom is next to Steve’s. “I was sitting there waiting for an hour and a half before the pity from the employees became too much to handle and I went home. He never called me, never texted. Stevie, I don't know what I did.”

The talking in Bucky’s classroom stops, footsteps growing near the door. Bucky opens it a crack, but you can’t bear seeing him so you stare at your feet and the gross linoleum under them. He tells his students to read ahead without him, stepping out and shutting his door behind him.

“I thought I heard voices out here, did you two need something?” Steve’s brows furrow at how cold Bucky’s being, he usually loves when you interrupt him and his class. 

“No,” Steve says slowly, glancing between the two of you. 

“Anyway, thanks for the help Steve,” you force a fake smile. “I should get back to the office and grade some papers I didn’t get to this weekend.”

“(Y/N/N)!” the blonde calls quietly after you, turning to Bucky with a small frown. “What the hell were you thinking standing her up?”

“I didn’t stand her up, she stood me up,” Bucky glares down at the tiles.

“What are you talking about?” Steve can’t make sense of the nonsense coming out of his best friend's mouth. “She waited over an hour for you to show, Buck. And you never did.”

“Why would she want to date me?” he gestures to himself, eyes lingering on his own gut. “I heard Rumlow say it was fake and she was going to stand me up.”

“And you believed that?” Steve lets out a humorless laugh. “She threatened to beat his ass for talking shit about you Buck. you need to fix this, she’s crushed.”

Steve walks back into his classroom, leaving Bucky alone in the hall with his racing thoughts. He has to make it up to you! How could he hurt you? How could he believe anything Rumlow said? This goes to show that even teachers can be stupid. You’re his best girl and he hurt you, how’s he supposed to make it up to you?  

You and Steve sit quietly in the breakroom at lunch, he’s eating and you’re trying to make some headway in your grading. Bucky hasn’t come to lunch yet, you’d love to say you haven’t noticed, but you're painfully aware of the empty seat to your right, the one Bucky always occupies. You write a big fat C in red ink on the essay you just read, it should be a C- but Ned is a smart kid and you don’t want to drop his GPA even more because of one poorly written paper. 

A body slumps in the chair beside you, you ignore it assuming it’s Brock. You don’t have the energy for him and his bullshit today. A cheesy heart shaped box of chocolates is set onto the essay you just started reading. You finally look up and see a frazzled looking Bucky in his seat, He’s holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers, a nervous grin on his face. 

“I fucked up-” he starts.

“You don’t say,” you move the box of chocolates off the paper to start reading it again. 

“I overheard Brock the other day saying you were going to stand me up,” he rushes out, your gaze meeting his as he continues. A proud smile on his face about the next sentence, “Steve already told me that you threatened to beat Rumlow up for me. But that’s not the point. I thought you were going to stand me up, so I didn’t want to give you that satisfaction so I never showed up.”

“Why would I stand you up?” you ask slowly, eyeing the flower stems you fear he may crush out of nerves. 

“Because I look like this,” he admits quietly, using the flowers to gesture to his slightly protruding belly. 

“I love how you look Bucky,” you grab the flowers and set them on the table, grabbing both his hands in yours. “It’s incredibly sexy, you’re sexy. Especially when your sleeves are rolled up and your tie is loosened. I love you James, your personality makes it impossible not to.”

“You love me?” he lets go of one hand, bringing it up to caress your cheek. 

“Of course I do,” Steve leans back in his seat, a fond smile on his face, his best friends finally got their shit together. 

“Let me make it up to you tonight! I can make us dinner and we can stay in. Or I can take you anywhere you want to go. We can go bowling, or see a movie-”

While his rambling is adorable, you cut him off with a soft kiss. It’s not as long or as passionate as either of you would like, but you have an audience of coworkers and you don’t want to get carried away. Brock stomps out of the breakroom like a child when he sees you and Bucky.

“I love you too, doll,” Bucky admits dreamily.

permanent tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen​ @rexorangecouny​ @mrs-malfoy-always​

[anagentinwriting]

Lifeline - Part 2

Summary: (First Responders!AU) Moving to Los Angeles and living with your brother, Thor, was never part of your plan nor was being a 9-1-1 dispatcher, but plans change when you are faced with your own emergencies. In your case, it was leaving behind a relationship that wasn’t as perfect as it seemed. Will this be the fresh start you were hoping for or will your past find a way to catch up with you?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Odinson!Sister Reader

Word Count: ~2900

Warnings: Elevators, Angst

Lifeline Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Steve POV

“The 911 operator I was talking to had this great idea to use the hose to pull the little girl across the water to get her out of the pool,” Steve reminisced, sitting at the big island in the kitchen watching Sam cook.

“Dude, I was there, remember,” Sam replied.  “And hasn’t it been like a week since that happened?”

“Yeah, but it was such a clever idea. I didn’t even know they could see the whole house on their monitors.”

“Who cares! It’s probably some fancy technology not available on the market yet, but if I'm hearing this correctly, it sounds like she popped Stevie’s dispatcher cherry,” Bucky joked behind him.

Steve peeked over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes at Bucky. “My what cherry?”

“You know when you talk to a dispatcher on the phone while on scene. Danvers takes those calls most of the time, but every once in a blue moon, one of us takes it.” Bucky wiggled his eyebrows. “Who was the operator?”

“Um...YN.”

“Oh, my sister,” Thor announced in a deep voice, patting him on the shoulder and taking the stool next to him. “She is very intelligent.”

“Wait, you have a sister?” Steve asked, widening his eyes at him.

“I have two sisters, while one half-sister, but we don’t talk about her because she’s the worst,” Thor answered with pursed lips. “YN is the best though, I like to think she got the brains, I got the brawn, and well, I guess, that makes Loki the beaut of the family.” He nodded with a half shrug. 

“Are we still talking about how Rogers popped his dispatcher cherry,” Carol smirked, walking into the kitchen with Valkyrie. Steve felt his face heat up as he tried to say something, but she held her hand up. “It’s okay! Everyone remembers their first time,” She winked, forcing him to shake his head.

“Okay, okay. I get it.” Steve held up his hands in surrender, trying to hide the blush on his face.

_____________

You swiveled back and forth in your chair, waiting for the next call to come in. You had a half-hour left of your twelve-hour shift, and you needed a girls' night out. Living with your brother and Darryl was both a blessing and a curse. They offered you a place to stay, rent-free when you first moved here, but the amount of testosterone in that house was sometimes too much for you to handle. You tapped your fingers on your desk when your line started ringing. You sat up, letting out a deep breath, and pressed the spacebar.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“Hello,” a male voice replied.

“How can I help you?”

“I’m making a turkey and was wondering what the internal temperature has to be?”

“You do know it’s against the law to call with a fake emergency, right?”

“Yes, but this is an emergency.”

“No, it’s not, so get off my line.” You hung up the line, shaking your head. Right away, another call came through, and you answered it. 

“911, what’s your emergency?” 

“Hi, hello. My friends are trapped in the elevator. The elevator must have snapped or something because there was this loud bang.”

“Where are you calling from?”

“The Natural History Museum. Please hurry!”

____________

Steve sat in his unassigned assigned spot at the dining table, eating a late lunch with the team. It was the cardinal rule at Station 107: Work as a team and eat as a family. Steve never thought he'd be able to find another firehouse he enjoyed working at, considering his previous teammates and friends at his old one. He hated leaving them behind, but he needed a fresh start, and so far, Station 107 was the best second home he could ask for. 

Everyone brought something to the team as every firehouse did.  Captain Danvers, or Ace as she preferred to be called in the field, brought her confidence and experience, which made for a great leader they could trust and rely on. Thor had his strength and his bravery, but he did have an ego. Sam was a great motivator and could keep everyone on task while still cracking jokes. It was no wonder Sam was the head EMT at this firehouse. Valkyrie was a badass and wasn’t afraid to put people in their place. As for Bucky, Steve knew he would always be there for him till the end of the line. 

The loud alarm blaring throughout the firehouse pulled Steve out of his stupor. Everyone knew what that sound meant, and they were ready to tackle whatever it might be. One after another, they slid down the firepole, pulled on their gear, and hopped in the truck, heading towards the scene. It wasn’t unusual to take calls that didn’t involve fire because whoever could get there the fastest was better than no one showing up at all. 

Thor hopped behind the driver's seat of the fire engine, pulling out of the garage. Carol sat beside him, giving him directions while speaking with the dispatcher through her headset. The sirens were wailing with Val and Sam behind them in the ambulance. 

“Alright, boys. We got an elevator crash at the Natural History Museum,” Carol said into her helmet mic after speaking with dispatch. “Dispatch says three students and their pregnant teacher are inside.”

“What’s the plan, Ace?” Steve asked into his helmet mic, concealing the siren blaring in the background. 

“I have contacted the museum's elevator technician, and he has already locked and tagged the power on the cars. The car sits near the basement level, so we will approach from the top in the lobby. I want Thor on the winch…”

“Ahh---what,” Thor interrupted her.

“Calm down, big guy, you can have the next one.” She gave him the side-eye, making the rest of the crew chuckle. “Steve and Bucky are going to do an immediate retrieval and approach from the top. Sam and Val will set a perimeter and then treat those who come up. Then, I will help with the retrieval, and Thor with the winch,” she stated with the last part dripping in sarcasm.

“It still hurts,” Thor added, taking a right at the intersection.

Once on-site, everyone grabbed their gear and took their positions.  Steve and Bucky strapped on their harnesses and helmets, switching on the flashlight. They started scaling down the elevator shaft from the lobby as Thor lowered them on the winch with the retrieving rope.

“How we looking, Steve?”

“Sexy, but not like we are trying too hard, but it’s more kind of effortless.” 

“Yeah, I mean, have you seen Steve’s ass in that harness. It could be American’s Ass or more like LA’s Finest Ass,” Sam commented with a whistle, echoing in the shaft. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Steve landed on the top of the elevator, unhooking himself while Bucky did the same.  “I’m down and unattached.”

“That’s what she said,” Carol responded with her head appearing in the shaft.

Thor chuckled, shaking his head. “Classic.”

Steve rolled his eyes and used his other flashlight to find the hatch on top of the elevator. He unclipped the lock, opening the hatch door, seeing the top of the lights. “I’m Fireman Rogers, please move towards the buttons. I’m going to kick the light out, so we can get you out of there.” It took a few kicks, but once it fell through, a few faces peeked up at him.  “How are we doing in there?”

“Oh my god, thank god, you’re here. I thought we were gonna die,” one of the kids replied, clutching his phone in his hand.

“Calm down, Flash. Everything is fine,” the pregnant woman reassured. “Right?” She looked up at Steve with worried filled eyes, and he nodded.

“Watch out, I'm coming down.” Steve crawled down into the hatch, and Bucky passed him the spare harness.  “Ma’am, you’re going up first, but first we need to get you strapped into this harness, then we’ll pull you up.” She nodded, trusting him, and allowing him to put the harness on her before Thor used the winch to pull her up.

“Okay, boys, who's going to go next?”

“I’m next,” the one they called Flash stated.

“Okay, then, how about you with the cool hat.”

“Thanks, it gives me confidence,” the kid smiled.

“And then, you,” Steve pointed to the kid wearing a Midtown School of Science and Technology shirt.

“Um...yeah--” he nodded a little too much. “--Yeah...I can go last. Get everyone else to safety first.”

“Perfect.” Steve clapped his hands together. “Let’s do this.”

___________

It turned out to be a quick rescue, and no one suffered any major injuries. Steve took some gear out to the truck and started repacking it when he felt someone tap him on the shoulder. He turned around, noticing the kid in the Midtown School of Science and Technology shirt wrapped in an ambulance blanket. 

“What can I do for you, kid?”

“Peter. Peter Parker. I’m...I’m Peter Parker.” He held out his hand, and Steve shook it. “I just wanted to say thank you...thank you for saving my teacher and my friends back there. We’re on our school trip from New York, and this was an adrenaline rush experience.” Peter held up his hand, and Steve noticed it shaking.

He chuckled. “It will wear off.”

“It felt like that opening scene of that old action movie. Where John Wick saves those people that were trapped in the elevator after the bad guy tried to blow them up with a bomb. They don’t catch him obviously because it’s the opening scene, but later he puts the bomb on the bus, and that Bird Box lady has to keep driving like fifty-five miles an hour, or the bus will blow up.”

“I know the one. I think you’re thinking of Speed, but I don’t think it’s that old.” 

“Yeah, yeah, that one,” he chuckled, pointing his finger at him. “It’s kind of old, I mean you’re kind of old, so it’s kind of old to you, but to me, it’s kind of new because I’m not that old.” He rambled on, his eyes widening, realizing what he was saying. 

“Peter, come on. The museum is going to show us some never before seen stuff because we almost died,” the kid with the cool hat shouted from across the street. 

“Coming, Ned,” he yelled back. “Thanks again, Fireman Rogers, and sorry about calling you old. I didn’t...”

“It’s okay, kid, I’m just glad you’re safe.”

Steve watched Peter run back over to his friends with a smile on his face. It was these moments when he loved his job, watching friends and families reunite after a tragedy. It was these moments where he felt like it could almost fix what he lost. 

______________

You sighed, taking a seat at your usual spot at the end of the bar in Happy’s Hydrant. Happy noticed you right away and smiled, giving you a bottle of beer. You thanked him with a nod, taking a sip, and scanning the crowd. It wasn’t unusual to spot a familiar face, considering this bar was created for the heroes of Los Angeles. It welcomed all those members who served or are currently serving as first responders, but civilians were welcome, too. It’s nice to have a place to go with people you could relate to and share similar experiences with after working a twelve or twenty-four-hour shift. They understand what we go through on a day to day basis. It was one of the many reasons Happy Hogan wanted to open this bar after he retired from his Fire Chief position at Station 12.

You swiveled back and forth on your bar stool until someone familiar on the other end of the bar caught your eye. You stopped moving, your eyes not wavering from the man. Your mouth went dry, hearing your heartbeat thumping in your ears. You gulped, feeling your palms start to tingle as the muscles in your legs start to tighten. Every nerve in your body was firing, telling you to run, but it felt like if you moved an inch, he would see you, and these past three months would’ve been for nothing. He glanced your way for a brief moment, and relief flooded your whole body. You relaxed, squeezing your eyes shut as you took a few deep breaths in and out. It wasn’t him. 

The weight of someone touching your shoulder makes you jump off your bar stool, and turn around to see one of the ladies you were waiting for.  “Hey, it’s only me.” Carol held up her hands in surrender, giving you a reassuring smile. “Sorry, I forgot how jumpy you can be.”

“It’s okay. Lost in my head again.” You nodded, returning to your barstool.

“Thanks for giving my transfer a chance to be the shining star of my squad last week.” She nudged your side, flagging down Happy for a drink.

“Your what...with what,” you asked, narrowing your eyes at her. 

“The pool, the hose, the little girl stranded on a floaty with the water electrified. Ringing any bells?”

“Ohhh, right. That one.” You took a sip of your beer. “Fireman Rhodes or was it Ronin?”

“Rogers. Steve Rogers.” You pointed the neck of your beer bottle at her and nodded. “You made quite an impression on him. He can’t stop talking about it, and it’s getting really annoying, but I guess you did pop his dispatcher cherry.” She nudged your side with an ever-growing smile on her face. You rolled your eyes at her, shaking your head. “And if single you is interested, I am sure he is willing to mingle. At least, if you’re into that sort of thing.”

“I’m not ready to start dating. I’m still trying to find myself after going through a terrible six-year marriage.” You gave her a half shrug, eyeing the bar. “When I am ready to date again, all I want is a nice guy.”

“Steve’s nice.  Hey, you should swing by one day before your shift and meet him,” she winked, and you scoffed, rolling your eyes. 

“I haven’t even filed for divorce yet.”

“Wait--” she turned on her stool to face you “--hasn’t it been three months? Why not?”

“I don’t want him knowing where I am.”

“Doesn’t he know where Thor lives?”

“No,” you sighed, shaking your head. “Let's just say he didn’t take much interest in my life while we were together. Besides, I don’t think he'd think I’d go to Thor with how everything turned out the last time I went to him for help.

“What an asshole.” She rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her beer, and you nodded.  “Well, at least you know you have an admirer,” she added, making you scoff.

“Hey ladies, sorry I’m late,” Natasha greeted, taking the other stool next to you. “Clint and I checked out this noise complaint a neighbor called in. And it turns out this guy was serenading his ex-girlfriend with hopes to win her back. It was this whole thing, and we wanted to stick around to see what happened next.” 

“So what happened,” Carol asked with curious eyes, wearing a mischievous smirk on her face.

“It was crazy.” She shook her head, letting out a breathy chuckle. “She came down and punched him in the face. Apparently, this dude cheated on her with, wait for it--” she drummed her hands on the bar countertop “--her brother. It was a twist I didn’t see coming, but talk about drama on duty. Sometimes I think it would be easier fighting fires or answering phones all day.”

“Oh please, Nat, you wouldn’t last a day. You would miss seeing the excitement first hand. Over the phone, you don’t get much excitement,” you replied.

“Speak for yourself,” Carol added, taking a swig of her beer. “You would love my job, Nat. You get to boss men around.”

“I kind of do that already. Besides, I don’t think I could leave Clint. He’d be lost without me,” she smirked, signaling Happy to make her a martini.

Natasha oozed confidence, which came off as intimidating to most women. When she walked into a room, all eyes were on her, but it was attention she chose to ignore. When men would buy her drinks, she'd take it to another lovely lady. Nat was all about lifting and empowering women to feel confident in their own skin. She wasn’t afraid to tell people to back off or shut up. She was the role model you wish you had when you were with him, then maybe you would've had the confidence and courage to leave sooner. 

“Here you are, Nat?” Happy pushed the martini glass to her. “Are you ladies still good?” He asked, pointing to the drinks in front of you.  

“Yeah, we’re good. Thanks, Happy,” you smiled at him as he walked away, shooting you a thumbs up. 

“How is apartment hunting going, YN?” Nat asked, taking a sip of her martini.

“Good, I found this cute little condo a few blocks away from work. It has a modern feel to it, but I think it would be perfect for me,” you described. “I loved it when I saw the pictures. The landlord is out of town right now, but she told me it’s mine if I want it.”

“I’m so excited for you,” Nat squealed, squeezing your forearm. “You need to get out of that testosterone-filled house and get on your own two feet again.”

“Yes, you do,” Carol agreed. “What’s your softie older brother going to think of you leaving?”

“I’m going to have to break it to him slowly.”

__________

AN: Thanks for reading part 2! I hope you all are liking it so far! If you caught it there was a quote from Brooklyn 99 that I thought was too good not to put in! 😂 Also, Darryl Jacobson, if you don't remember him, he was Thor's roommate in those Marvel shorts. I thought he would be a fun and entertaining addition to this story! Also, any ideas as to why Steve left his old firehouse? Did you enjoy the little Peter Parker cameo? And what do you think Thor is going to think of her moving it? Comments always welcome, thanks again for reading! 

[star-spangled-steve]

His New Partner

Chapter 48: The Final Mission

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Words: 2096

Warnings: Some anxious!Reader, pregnancy.

A/N: We’re getting closer and closer to the finish line, I can’t believe it!

Steve placed a hand on Y/N’s lower back as she pushed A.J.’s stroller, the family approaching the treed area around Tony’s, well, now Pepper’s cabin. It was the day after Stark’s funeral, and finally time for Steve to do the job that Y/N was dreading: returning the Infinity Stones to the moment they were taken.

She had asked him if someone else could do it, but the man had insisted that because of his eidetic memory, he was the only one who could execute it flawlessly. So alas, the woman agreed, though she still felt uneasy.

The last time there was time travel involved, her best friend didn’t come back. Who’s to say her husband couldn’t be next?

Steve, sensing her worries, pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. The look in his eyes said ‘everything is going to be okay’. She hoped that he was right.

“Hey, Cap. N/N.” Sam greeted as he and Bucky approached them. “Little buddy!” He bent down to get a look at Anthony in the stroller, smiling brightly at him. The toddler squealed happily in return.

“Hey, Sam.” Y/N responded, voice not entirely confident.

“You ready, pal?” Bucky questioned his best friend, earning a nod in response from the man.

Steve and Sam headed over to the desk that Bruce had set up, all of Bruce’s technological things on top of it, as well as the stones. Bucky decided to hang back with Y/N and A.J., knowing that she probably needed the support right now. He sensed her worries and gave her a reassuring smile, and she tried to give one back; the best she could.

“Now, remember, you have to return the stones to the exact moment you got them. Or you're gonna’ open up a bunch of nasty alternative realities.” Banner instructed Steve, opening the briefcase that held the Infinity Stones themselves.

“Don't worry, Bruce.” The Captain said, closing the briefcase back up and grabbing it. “Clip all the branches.”

“You know, I tried.” Bruce suddenly grew serious. “When I had the gauntlet, the stones, I really tried to bring her back.” His thoughts were lost in the memory that was Natasha as he glanced down at Steve. “I miss her, man.”

Rogers nodded, “Me too.” He quickly looked over at his love, knowing that she felt the exact same way.

He and Sam started to head over to where she was standing with Bucky. “You know, if you want, I can come with you.” Sam volunteered, always happy to help.

“You're a good man, Sam.” Steve stopped walking and stated. “This one's on me, though.” As he approached Bucky, he smirked, excited for the line he was about to say. “Don't do anything stupid 'till I get back.” Oh, how the tables had turned.

Barnes chuckled and shook his head. “How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you.” They gave each other a quick hug, and the brown-haired soldier sighed as they separated. “Be safe, buddy. I mean it.”

“It's gonna’ be okay, Buck.” The Captain reassured before stepping over to where his wife was standing, giving her a tiny grin. “Now you, little lady, better calm down.” He watched as her shoulders slumped and brought a hand up to cradle her face. “I promise you it’s going to be alright, doll. Not that difficult of a mission.”

“I-I know it’s just...” she paused, looking him deep in the eyes. “Please be careful, Steve. I can’t stress that enough.”

“I will.” He answered her in a very serious tone. “I promise.” The man watched as she bit her bottom lip nervously, and brought his thumb to her mouth, taking the lip out from between her teeth gently. He then leaned in and gave her a chaste kiss, knowing that he’ll miss her as he’s on his journey.

Her hand settled on the chest piece of his Scale Mail Suit, wanting to feel more of him and relish the moment. She gave him a soft smile as they separated, and nudged her head over to where Mjolnir was placed on the Quantum Tunnel. “You know, it’s a shame you have to bring that thing back.” She spoke quietly, not wanting Bucky, or even worse, her son to hear her.

“And why’s that?” Steve smirked, thinking he already knew the answer.

“Well, it’s, um... quite sexy that you can wield it, actually. Just like... you know, the power you hold? It’s... hot.” Y/N fluttered her eyelashes, and the man chuckled.

“Don’t tell me you’ve found it sexy when Thor’s done it all these years?” He teased, raising his eyebrows.

“No, no.” She laughed in response, moving in a bit closer to him flirtatiously. “Just you.”

Steve, really wanting to drive her crazy, simply held out his right hand and watched her expression as Mjolnir came flying into it automatically. Her eyes lit up and he grinned cockily.

“Oh boy...” she murmured. “Looks like you might be getting some toni-”

“Steve?” Bruce called out, cutting her off. “You ready to get moving?”

“Yeah.” He responded back, not taking his eyes off his girl. “Sorry, guys.” The man placed on last peck on her lips before crouching down to give her almost-six-months baby belly a kiss, then one to A.J.’s cheek as well. “Dad will be back very soon, buddy.” He told the boy, stroking his cheek, before standing up straight and walking up onto the Quantum Tunnel, giving Y/N a confident expression. He wanted to show her that he wasn’t worried, so she shouldn’t be either. He then pressed the button on his hand that made the Quantum Suit appear on his body.

“How long is this gonna’ take?” Sam questioned.

“For him? As long as he needs. For us? Five seconds.” Bruce answered.

“See, sweetie?” Steve spoke out to his wife. “You only have to wait five seconds and I’ll be right back here.”

She took a shaky breath. “Y-Yup.”

“Ready, Cap?” Banner asked, making the blond man nod in response. “Alright. We'll meet you back here, okay?”

“You bet.” The helmet then appeared on his head, sealing his body up completely.

The green man began counting: “Going quantum. Three... two... one...”

Then he was gone. He disappeared into thin air, and Y/N gave Bucky a nervous look.

Bruce spoke up again. “And returning in, five... four... three... two... one...”

Just as quickly as he had disappeared, Steve was reappearing on the Quantum Tunnel, looking almost the exact same as when he had left; the only difference maybe being a couple hairs out of place. As the Quantum Suit dissipated off his body, his wife let out a huge sigh.

“Honey. Thank goodness.” She rejoiced, running over to him as he walked down the stairs, and they met halfway in a hug. The man just ran his hands up and down her back, breathing in the fresh smell of her shampoo. “How long were you gone?” She asked.

“Longer than five seconds.” He responded, pulling her face out of his chest to look her in the eye. “I missed you.” A kiss was then pressed to her forehead, and a small giggle from A.J. interrupted the pair.

“Cool trick, dadda!” The boy smiled from his place in the stroller, prompting Y/N to take him out of it and hold him in her arms. 

Steve just chuckled at his son’s words, pressing a kiss to his head too. “Thanks, bud. I missed you as well. So much.”

“Hey, you got your shield back.” Sam smiled. “And it’s in one piece this time.” He joked, slapping a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Captain America can serve another day.”

At Wilson’s words, Steve shared a look with Bucky, the brown-haired man already knowing what was coming.

“Actually, uh...” Steve began, glancing at each of their faces, ready to see what their reaction will be, “I don’t think I will be.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped as Sam and Bruce grew confused as well.

“What are you talking about?” She questioned.

“If this whole battle and journey has taught me anything, it’s that I can’t keep putting my life on the line like this. Not when I have a family.” The man looked into her eyes, still seeing confusion in them. “I was once told that I couldn’t live without a war. And maybe I couldn’t then, but I can now. There’s nothing more important to me than you and our kids, Y/N. I’m not going to jeopardize that.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” she spoke, “you’re done fighting? For good?”

He gave her a nod. “For good.”

She covered her mouth with her free hand and began to cry, Steve pulling her into his side instantly.

“Are you... sad?” He asked, wiping a tear from her cheek with his thumb.

“Not at all.” She sniffled. “I’m so happy. I don’t have to worry anymore.” She looked up at her husband, and they had matching smiles; smiles of contentedness, safety, and security.

“Steve...” Bruce released a breath, “good for you, man. I’m happy for you.”

“Yeah, me too.” Sam agreed. “It’s just... the only thing bumming me out is the fact I have to live in a world without Captain America.”

“Oh, that reminds me.” Steve glanced down at his shield one last time, trying to savour the exact feel of it, before holding it out slightly. “Try it on.”

Wilson furrowed his eyebrows. “W-What? Me?” He glanced over at Bucky, who nodded, signalling that he knew about this all along. Sam carefully took the shield from Steve and adjusted it on his arm, staring down at the red, white, and blue pattern. He was so confused; Steve was trusting him with his legacy? This couldn’t be right.

“How does it feel?” Rogers inquired.

“Like it's someone else's.”

“It isn’t.”

“I-” Sam tried to hold back his tears, still in a state of shock. “Thank you. I'll do my best.”

Steve grinned. “That's why it's yours.” He shook the man’s hand, the reality of what this means suddenly hitting them all.

Y/N passed her son over to his dad before giving Sam a big hug. “I’m so happy for you.” She smiled through her tears.

“You too.” Sam replied, referring to the fact that half of her anxiety would now be alleviated from this moment forward.

She walked back to her husband and wrapped her arms around his waist, both Bucky and Bruce and congratulating Wilson.

“So what are you gonna’ do now, Steve?” Banner questioned.

The blond man smiled at the thought of his future plans. “Be a dad. And a husband. I can help make plans for the new Avengers Facility, help train the newbies. Do charity. Teach an art class. Anywhere this new path takes me.”

The woman sniffled, a big smile never leaving her face. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Me too.” Bucky added, happy that his friend could finally live in peace.

Steve just smiled at them, pulling his son closer towards his chest.

“Dadda, I’m hungwy.” The toddler stated, making everyone chuckle at how clueless he was about what was going on.

“Me too, buddy.” His father agreed. “Hey, how about you all come back to ours and we can order a pizza, just hang out?” He suggested.

“Ooo, pizza!” Y/N grew excited. “Yes, please.”

“I’m in.” Bruce added.

Bucky nodded. “Me too.”

“Sounds delicious.” Said Sam. “Considering you’re going to be feeding two super soldiers, the Hulk, and a pregnant woman, you might want to order a lot, Steve.” He joked, and the blond laughed.

“I’m plenty used to it by now.”

“I just need to take down all the equipment.” Banner stated. “You guys go ahead, it shouldn’t take me long. I’ll be there in 45.” 

“Sure you don’t need help?” Y/N asked.

“It’s pretty complicated. I could probably do it faster on my own.” He chortled.

“Alright.” The woman spoke. “We’ll leave you two full pizzas.”

The group laughed as they began to walk out for the treed area and to their cars. 

“So... does this mean I’m the new boss?” Sam broke the silence, his words hopeful.

“Not of me.” Steve stated with a firm, yet playful look.

“I’m not an Avenger.” Y/N giggled.

“Right, right. Only the people who are part of the team.” Wilson spoke, a huge smirk beginning to build up on his face. “So that means... I’m in charge of... Bucky.”

The brown-haired soldier let out a huge sigh. “Only during a battle.”

“Oh ho ho, this is gonna’ be great!” Sam cheered.

“See,” Steve chuckled, “you two are getting along already!”

Next Chapter

Feedback is always welcome!❤️

[harryspet]

the good guy | steve rogers

[warnings] dark steve rogers x reader, pre-serum steve x reader, 40′s setting, petite reader, angst, noncon sex (wear a condom, kids), public sex?

A/N: this was inspired by @darkastrea​ ‘s idea where the reader falls for skinny steve because he’s small like her and makes her less insecure but after the war she’s not attracted to him anymore and super soldier steve doesn’t handle the rejection well. 

THIS ADULT CONTENT AND CONTAINS TRIGGERING SUBJECTS

In which Steve returns from the war and things just aren’t the same. 

word count: 3.6k

Everyone looked past you. Even your own family. Steve was the only one who understood that. He understood everyone looking down on you, literally. He was small like you but he was the one who knew how to stand up for himself. You admired that. 

The first time you met him, he had ducked into the bakery you worked at part time. The sign clearly read “closed” but the lights of the shop were still on. As he hid behind one of the tables, you watched as a group of men ran past the front of the store, completely missing their target. 

He had always had a way of astonishing you. When he introduced himself that night, you had no idea how deep your bond would grow. 

You were barely over five feet and that seemed to shock Steve as much as his height shocked you. Everyone seemed to tower over you and every woman Steve met towered over him. No thanks to the family you grew up with, most men intimidated you. Steve seemed to be different than most guys. 

“Do you always go looking for fights?” You asked, handing him a cup of coffee. You took a break from closing up the shop to get to know the courageous stranger. 

“Not always, ma’am,” He answered, a sly smile on his face, “But I’ve noticed that they just continue to pick on you when you stand down.”

You nervously tapped at your coffee cup as his words sunk in, “But won’t they always win when they’re bigger than you …” Steve could sense the double meaning behind your words but decided it was best not to dig into the intimacies of a strangers life. 

“They lose their power when you’re confident. They assume. because you’re smaller, that you’re mentally weaker. They back off when you show them you’re not.”

You slowly nodded, stirring your spoon around your coffee, “Is that why you ran in here?”

“Oh, those guys? My method works better against one guy, not six. With six guys, you just gotta run,” You laughed at that and Steve noted your beautiful smile. In all these years, he’d never gotten close to getting a girl to smile like that for him. They looked past him because of his scrawny looks yet you saw him, “Are you the Gloria in Gloria’s Sweets?”

You shook your head, your smile still wide, “Oh no, that’s my boss. I’m Y/N,” Steve held his hand out to shake yours. 

“Steve Rogers.”

You looked down at your watch, knowing that you’d be expected home soon, “Well, if you don’t mind, I have to clean up and then get home.” As you stood up from your seat, Steve stood up abruptly too. 

“I can help,” He rushed out, “And I can escort you home … since it’s so late.”

Your head cocked to the side, curiously, “Really?”

“Of course,” Steve said, “It’s the least I could do after distracting you from work.”

You slowly nodded in agreement, “Okay.”

You cleaned up the kitchen together and Steve explained the reason those six guys were chasing him. Apparently, he was out drinking with his friend Bucky and saw the drunks messing with a stray cat, throwing bottles at it. He kindly tried to tackle one of the guys and the chase ensued. “At least the cat escaped,” Steve said. 

You closed up the shop and allowed Steve to walk you home. Luckily, there was no sign of the group of men from before. You walked the five blocks home, Steve acting as your “protection”. Really, you were just enjoying his company. 

“This is me,” You said as you stopped in front of your building, “We should probably say bye here. My family will send me to some Christian camp in the midwest if they catch me with a boy.”

Steve nodded, his lips in a thin line, “... Can I ... Can I see you again, Y/N?”

You nodded, a soft smile on your lips, “You know where I work. Swing by any time, Mr. Rogers.”

Steve’s heart did a backflip in his chest and a happy warmth heated his cheeks, “Yes, ma’am.”

+

You hadn’t realized what you were experiencing with Steve was a crush until this moment. When you ran together on the sandy beach because he surprised you with a day trip. He knew you had been stressed out from nursing school and wanted to help you relax. 

Your mother thought you were at a girl friend’s home, of course, but even she had met Steve already. Five months ago, you invited Steve to dinner with your family. It was one of the most awkward experiences of your life. Your father grilled him on his intentions, your mother didn’t seem to think he was worthy of you and your older brothers made jokes about his appearance. 

You thought he might be done with you after that. Turns out, Steve was quite used to people talking to him that way. It hadn’t scared him off at all, only made him understand why you acted the way you did. He understood why you went through life with your head down. 

Your family had bulldozed over you for your entire life. 

You snapped out of the memory as Steve grabbed your hand. He spun you in a circle and you danced around in the sand. The waves were loud and the people celebrating Memorial Day. 

The two of you plopped down onto the sand as you attempted to catch your breath. Your long cream skirt was dirtied but that didn’t matter much to you. You were focused on the sparkling blue in his eyes, the hint of green you noticed, and how incredibly kind they were. 

“Steve,” You breathed, “Thank you.”

“For what?” He grinned back at you. 

For caring like no one ever has. For letting you talk. For making you laugh. 

“For today,” You said instead, “I really needed this.”

You stayed at the beach all day, eating the lunch Steve packed for the two of you and then laying down to look at the stars as night set. 

Your hands brushed against each other but neither of you was bold enough to grab onto one another. 

“Y/N,” You turned your head to him as he called your name, “I brought you here to tell you something.”

You turned on your side, resting your head against your hand, “What’s that?”

The eager look on your face quickly fell as you realized he wasn’t about to confess his love for you, “You know how badly I wanted to enlist,” You nodded your head, scared of his next words, “Well, an opportunity arose. I get to go to boot camp, to train, and finally prove myself. If I get chosen for this project, I can make a real difference.”

Bullies. Steve hated bullies no matter where they came from. 

You were quiet for a moment and Steve struggled to read the emotions on your face, “I want to be happy for you, I do. This is your dream …” Your voice trailed off, “But I worry, Steve. They rejected you five times. What makes you think you’re not just a sacrifice?”

Steve simply shrugged, “It’s the cause that matters more. I want to help any way that I can.”

“You don’t care about coming back,” Your eyes welled with tears, “To me?”

“Of course I do,” Steve turned on his side now, reaching out to brush a tear from your cheek, and brush a curl behind your ear, “But I have to do this. I just have to. And when I get back, we’re going to drive across the country and see all the sites. From east to west, we’ll see everything.”

“I hope you mean that, Steve. Promise you’ll come back?”

“I swear.”

+

Steve kept his promise. It took until the very end of the war but he kept his promise. Only, things had changed so much since last saw him. You couldn’t believe the Steve you saw in those newspapers. He had completely turned into a hero. You already knew he was a hero but it seemed the rest of the world could recognize it now. 

Your family’s tune completely changed. Now they were begging you to marry him. Deep down, with all the changes, you didn’t even expect Steve to care about you anymore. Every woman in the world was swooning over him. 

As you stepped out of the brownstone where your classes were held, clutching your brown sweater tight to you, you didn’t expect the sight before you. Steve was there, clad in his army brown suit, and a bouquet of flowers in his hand. 

The girls who normally brushed past you stopped to stare. It baffled them that Steve was there for you, someone who was barely noticeable in a crowd. 

Steve’s white smile was wide as you approached him, clutching your bag at your side, “Steve-” He instantly pulled you into a hug and, already, you felt things were off. Your head was pressed against his chest as he pulled you in and his suffocating, strong arms wrapped around you. He was an entire foot taller now and had gained at least a hundred more pounds of pure muscle. 

He didn’t look anything like the Steve you knew before, even his face had changed slightly. 

You spoke as he finally let you go, “Steve, what are you-”

“These are for you,” He interrupted you, handing you the flowers, “God, I really missed you.”

“I missed you too,” You agreed, smiling awkwardly up at him. You looked around to see a group of people were staring, “Maybe we could talk somewhere else?”

Steve agreed, his smile still wide. He hadn’t yet noticed your trepidation through the excitement of it all. 

You and Steve found a restaurant a few blocks away, but even there, people seemed to stare at the two of you. The waitress practically spilled coffee on you from being distracted by him, “Y/N, is something wrong?”

You shook your head though you didn’t mean it, “It’s just … this is all so new. I didn’t expect you’d come back …. like this.”

Steve didn’t seem to get the hint, “What do you think? Do you like the new features?” Part of you was grateful that there was a table between the two of you. The man radiated so much power now, “I can make more than a difference now. I can run a mile in less than a minute, lift a war missile. I can protect the little guys.”

“That’s great,” You were happy for him but you couldn’t help but feel a bit intimidated by his newfound abilities, “Those goons at the bars won’t know what hit them.”

Steve chuckled, “Enough about me. How’s school?”

“It’s good. My finals are soon so we’ll find out if I have what it takes.”

“I’m sure you do,” Steve assured you, “You’re the smartest girl I know, Y/N. What about your family?”

“They’re the same. In my business as usual,” You thought about your next words carefully, “My mom … she’s starting to set me up on all these dates. She says that, in case I don’t pass my exams, that I should have someone to support me. Things are getting tight, you know?”

“Oh?” You saw the light leave his eyes and you mentally cursed, “Are you really interested in one of these guys?”

You shrugged, “I’m not sure. I really just want to focus on school and work. Dating is so complicated.”

“Oh,” Steve said again, tucking the ring box he held under the table back into his pocket, “Yes, complicated … before I left, I thought we sort of had a shot, Y/N.”

“... Me and the super soldier? The world would probably laugh at you for choosing someone like me.”

“They wouldn’t. If they did, I’d take care of ‘em.”

“It’s a sweet fantasy, Steve.”

With that, you successfully broke Captain America’s heart. 

+

Steve thought you just needed time. You’d soon realize that he was still like the old Steve and you’d come running into his arms later, begging to be with him. It didn’t seem to matter how much time passed, three months to be exact, because you had changed the way you saw him. 

You still entertained him during your late shifts and you got to hear all about his secret missions. He still had the same sense of justice that you had admired him for. You could barely believe the things that he accomplished. 

Tonight, Steve refused to just sit around the diner, he wanted to go out. He was going to take you into the new drive-in upstate. He had a completely new car courtesy of SHIELD and he was keen to show you a life of luxury. You had never heard of a drive-in before, let alone been to one. Steve explained to you that they were going to be the “next big thing”. 

He paid a couple of cents for the movie, even though you told him that you’d pay for yourself. You noticed how, lately when you protested, he’d simply raise his hand up and give you a look that said “I’ve got this”. You knew he was only trying to be a gentleman but part of you disliked the feeling it gave you. 

The two of you met up with Bucky and his current fling. Both Steve and Bucky seemed to be riding the high that winning the war brought them. You watched them talk before the movie, Bucky’s girl practically drooling over him. As you went to your separate cars, it seemed she couldn’t keep her hands off of him. 

As you watched them kiss, practically swallowing each other, Steve wrapped his arm around your shoulder. You tried your best not to let out a sigh as you watched him try to play it cool, “I don’t think they’re stopping to breathe,” You commented and Steve’s eyes looked past you into the car beside yours. You didn’t notice but Steve’s eyes had turned to you, “I mean, I didn’t even know people kissed like that in real life.”

When you turned back around to look at Steve, he was suddenly grabbing your face and smashing his lips onto yours. Hungry and desperate, sloppy and inexperienced, his lips moved against your frozen face. As soon as the realization hit, you tried your best to push him away. It was like pushing at a boulder. 

“Steve-” You struggled to cry out against his lips, “Steve, stop!”

When Steve finally pulled away, you tried to catch your breath as you wiped away your smudged lipstick. Steve stared at you in disbelief as you shouted, “What is wrong with you?” Luckily, the windows were rolled up and people were focused on the movie screen, “What did I say to make you think I wanted to kiss you? Y-You said this wasn’t a date.”

“I’m … I’m sorry,” He apologized. It was stupid to think that his new body had changed everything. He was still that small kid that would get rejected over and over. Steve turned away from you, his blood starting to boil. 

“I want to go home,” You told him, not meeting his eyes. Could you even be his friend anymore? Everything about him was beginning to intimidate you. 

Steve didn’t say another word as he put the car in reverse. He wasted no time interrupting Bucky’s makeout session or finishing the movie. The two of you sat in silence for a long while as you drove down the dark, winding road. 

“That day at the beach, you cried,” You looked up and noted how tightly he was gripping the steering wheel, “You cried when you heard I was getting shipped off and, now … what’s changed, Y/N?”

You could sense the hurt in this voice and your lip began to wobble as you thought of those nights you spent crying over him, “Steve ... “ You sighed.

“What is it?” Steve persisted, “I told you that I don’t care what other people think!”

“Steve, that’s not it!” You insisted, “You’re not … you’re not the little guy anymore. Being with you used to make me feel safe a-and now ....”

“Now I’m just like every other guy?” You nodded, your face solemn. The car slowed down and Steve pulled to the side of the road, “I’m the bad guy now? After everything?”

“I know you’re not the bad guy … ” As he turned his body to face you, you felt yourself cowering back, your small body sinking into the leather seat. You felt the frustration and testosterone radiating off of him. Your breathing hitched in your throat as Steve pulled out the ring box in his pocket. 

“I don’t understand why you can’t just accept me,” Steve spoke, his deep voice growing rougher, “Why can’t you just love me like you used to?”

“You’re a killing machine,” You spoke softly, “A tool for destruction.”

The car went silent as Steve simply stared at you, that same hunger in his eyes. He reached out to grab your face, “I can be gentle,” He tried to assure you and you reached up to grab onto his arm, pushing it away. The fact that the only reason his hand moved was because he wanted to move it, was enough for you. If he wanted, he could do anything to you. 

“Steve, I want to go home,” You stated as firmly as you could. Your hands were starting to shake, your anxiety reaching a new height. 

“You aren’t going anywhere,” Steve stated firmly, turning off the ignition, “Not until you agree to let me put that ring on your finger.”

Your eyes darted around, looking for a passerby or a car to drive by. Nothing. You began to panic and before Steve could reach out for you again, you opened the passenger door and stumbled out, “Y/N!” Your hands hit the dirt as you scrambled to your feet and you quickly lost one of your heels. Despite the pain of the dirt and asphalt, you slipped off the other one, picking up your long skirt as you began to run. 

You had never heard Steve curse before but he did as he got out of the car to chase you, “Y/N, don’t run from me!” You sped up as you heard him coming after you. You thought you could at least make it a few more feet but the wind was knocked out of you as Steve wrapped his arms around you. 

You fought hard against the man that was three times your size though you both knew your efforts were futile. He easily tossed you over your shoulder and carried you the distance back to the car. You called for help and as he set you back down, he covered your mouth with his own hand, his fingers tightening around your face. 

You screamed even harder as you kicked between his legs. He let you go only to fall on top of you, sending you both to the ground. Steve groaned, still managing to hold your hands down as he recovered. He was fuming at this point as you squirmed around in the dirt. Looking into your frightened eyes, Steve made a decision. 

A decision that would make you regret ever handing him that cup of coffee. 

“I protect you, I protect everyone, and I’m the bad guy?” It was rhetorical, you understood that as Steve tore open your blouse, exposing your white brassier, “I’ll show you what I am.”

Steve pinned down your legs with his own as he held your arms pinned above your head with one of his own. Not bothering to fumble with your skirt, he simply tore away the fabric. You screamed louder but only the silence of the night answered you. 

Steve pulled away your white underwear, exposing your sensitive area to the cool air of the night, “Steve, I-I’m sorry,” You pleaded, choking on your sobs, “Please don’t, I’m a virgin!”

“Then this will be special for both of us,” Steve concluded, fumbling with his belt and pulling down his trousers. You tried not to look down as he positioned himself between your legs, “We’re going to be happy together like we were intended to be. It’ll feel so good that you’ll forget your doubts”

His grip on you was so tight that you were sure that he’d leave bruises. As he pushed his tip against your entrance, you could feel how hard he was. This wasn’t how your first time should’ve been. You should be married and on a honeymoon, not on the side of the road. 

You cried out as he slowly pushed inside of you. Your body continued to struggle, resulting in Steve moving his hand to wrap around your neck. His fingers tightened around your neck as you struggled to breathe clearly. 

You wrapped around him tightly, resisting him but Steve pushed through. It was a magical feeling to Steve. All he could ask for was having his first time with the woman of his dreams. 

Steve grunted as his pace began to quicken. He made you feel so small and defenseless. The member between his legs was practically the size of your forearm, successfully impaling you. You couldn’t believe that your body was beginning to adjust to him. It was starting to get pleasure from the friction he was creating. 

“That’s it, darling,” Steve groaned as mangled moans began to leave your mouth, “Enjoy the feeling of me being inside you, enjoy being mine. You don’t need someone ‘good’, you need someone efficient.”

That night, after he had taken your virtue, Steve knew he had the rest of you too. He’d make you his little wife.

+

Hope you enjoyed this because I loved writing it!!

[ladyeliot]

Do it.

Request: @imerdwarf​  : Hi my dear friend ❤️ I was wondering if I could send in a small request? 🥺 a friends to lovers with Bucky - reader has loved him for a long time but he’s always with other girls and just feels like he doesn’t like her that way but it isn’t until she starts crying he learns the truth? 🥺 your writing is amazing and I’m glad to have found your blog ❤️

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader (40s)

Warning: Fluff, fluff, fluff and maybe sad.

Word count: 2243

Notes:  Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

New York City, 1943

The clarity with which you heard the words that came out of the radio distressed you. There wasn't much good news coming from across the ocean, but you knew that's where you wanted to be. The courage of the many soldiers who passed through your hands encouraged and comforted you, they had hope, everything that was needed in those times. Your main task was to vaccinate and check that each and every soldier who went to war was in good physical condition. There were many times when you had to refuse their permission, and you watched as frustration set in.

But things changed when a loved one came before you to give your approval of their good physical health. Bucky Barnes was more than a Sergeant in the United States Army, he was your friend and confidant for a couple of years when Bucky showed up at the medical centre after becoming the third YMCA welterweight boxing champion. From that moment on you both discovered that you had many things in common, and perhaps it was because of that and the constant casual coincidences you had over the next few months that you became good friends.

"Done," the curtain that separated your cubicle from another nurse's cubicle opened, letting a smiling Bucky through.

You jumped up suddenly when you saw how he had snuck into that place, and the soldier you were poking at the top of his buttock was surprised too. But Bucky didn't seem to mind.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, offering the soldier cotton wool with alcohol.

"I've just had my destiny confirmed" Bucky picked up a series of confidential papers, which he shouldn't show you.

The soldier you were vaccinating reluctantly left by pulling up his trousers, and Bucky took the seat he had left on the stretcher. You took the papers he was offering you and discovered that first thing tomorrow morning he would be leaving for Europe. His departure took you somewhat by surprise, as you at least expected him not to leave until September, but he was determined. He was leaving tomorrow and you still hadn't received your assignment orders, even though your application had been sent for months.

"So you're leaving first thing tomorrow morning for London," you confirm by looking at the documents.

With every gesture on his face, Bucky showed that happiness and pride you were used to seeing in each of your patients. It was clear that there was nothing better than news like that to cheer up the American people, their courageous men and women fighting for their country.

"Well, what do you plan to do on your last night of freedom, Sergeant?" Your question had a specific purpose, to discover Bucky's priorities, among which you clearly knew was his best friend, Steve Rogers.

James took the papers again from your hands and got up from the stretcher practically in one jump.

"Enjoy this wonderful city and its pleasures," he said cheerfully. "Tonight I have a double date with Steve, we'll take Connie and Bonnie to Stark Expo and then dance.

You arched one eyebrow smiling at the plan he had just proposed, the smile was not really the best expression to show your feelings, but it was perfect to hide them. You were not prone to show your affection in front of the people you loved, maybe that's why you accepted to dedicate yourself to nursing, you preferred to show your affection with strangers. That and running away from your small town.

"So, a double date? That sounds wonderful."

As Bucky played with the papers in his hands you wondered whether you should say goodbye to him now, whether that would be the last time you would see him before he left first thing the next day, and whether you would not see him again until the war was over and everyone returned home, if he survived.

"So... is this goodbye?" you asked with a sour smile.

Just as Bucky was about to take the step and respond, the white curtain opened showing a young private waiting to be vaccinated. Bucky showing his stripes informed him to wait a moment.

"Of course, Sergeant."

Just as the private had disappeared again, Bucky resumed the conversation.

"I think so, this is goodbye," Bucky kept the papers. "Goodbyes... I'm not very good at them."

"Don't worry, Sergeant," you said, looking at his blue eyes as you leaned on the stretcher. "You just focus on being good at what matters, and come back safe and sound."

"Of course ma'am," Bucky gave you one last smile before disappearing through the curtain and informing the soldier that he could pass.

The rest of tomorrow you functioned as if you were part of an assembly line, soldiers and vaccines, vaccines and soldiers, your mind was lost elsewhere, wandering between various thoughts. Practically all your friendships were thousands of miles away from you, you only knew about them through a few lines that came to you with every correspondence at the beginning of the month. Your life was becoming a nuisance, and now he was leaving too. You wanted to be there, in the front line if necessary, to help, even if you regretted it every day later. That situation was frustrating.

With the sunset you started to pick up your belongings, there was nothing more you could do for today, just take off your uniform and go home to sit on the couch while you kept your mind distracted listening to the radio. The girls were going out that night to dance with a lieutenant and his mates, but you just needed a bit of calm.

The number five bus soon passed, and after crossing the Manhattan bridge you were on your way back to Brooklyn. You were living in a small rented flat in North Brooklyn, and every night when you arrived Mrs. Ferris would come over to say good night to you, although you knew that she just wanted to check that you didn't have a companion, as the rental contract forbade it.

"Good evening, Mrs. Ferris," you said as you walked up the stairs to the first floor. "Have a nice evening."

After having said your farewell, as always, you went into the house and prepared to open the window of the living room, just to listen to the atmosphere of the neighbourhood and to discover that you were not alone in that place. The radio news had finished and a Harry James song "I've Heard That Song Before" began to play, a song that made you think of Bucky and that at that very moment he would be dancing with Connie or Bonnie, or maybe both. You couldn't blame him for anything, in the first place he didn't know your feelings, and secondly first thing tomorrow morning he would be going off on the most dangerous adventure of his life, surely if you were in his position you would have done the same.

You stood silently by the window frame, listening to the sweet melody coming from the radio and contemplating all the windows lit in the buildings opposite. It took you longer than usual to realize that someone on the pavement, just below your window, was calling your attention, because you were transfixed by the Brooklyn night.

"What the hell are you doing here, Bucky?" The tone of surprise came in your words, but it was so faint that I probably wouldn't have heard you.

Bucky pointed to the front door of the building, emphasizing that he wanted you to let him in. You shook your head quickly, it was impossible for Bucky to get up to your house without Mrs. Ferris noticing. Your friend made a nagging gesture, but quickly indicated that you should go down to the street, where he was. With a charming smile he waited for your answer, and you no doubt pleased him by coming down quickly.

"I hope you're not late, Miss Y/S/N," Mrs. Ferris quickly opened the door. "And if you do, take off your shoes to go up the stairs."

"Of course, Mrs. Ferris, enjoy the evening."

With a little chuckle you opened the front door of the building and found Sergeant Barnes waiting for you at the entrance.

"What are you doing here?" you said with a scowl. "I thought you were in some bar in Queens dancing until dawn before a ship takes you to England."

"Well, let's say Steve has left and it's my turn to take care of the two ladies," he said, taking off his cap.

"Can't Sergeant Barnes handle two ladies?" Your mischief came out, if Mrs. Ferris had heard such a comment she would have kicked you to the curb, but Bucky was used to it.

Bucky did not respond, he just smiled and put his cap back on completing his uniform again.

"Would you like to go for a walk?" you asked when you realized that the conversation was limited.

"Please," he said, raising his hand to get you started.

You knew that neighbourhood perfectly, you had lived there since you moved to New York, and you had walked those streets day after day. As if you were taking an exam, you were trying to answer the question: Why did Bucky suddenly appear that night? Maybe it was true, Steve had left and didn't want to be with two young ladies. "Really?" you thought to yourself, it was James Barnes, he would have been thrilled with that situation.

"Have you received the answer to the relocation request today?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"Not yet," you said with regret in your voice. "I hope to receive it next week, I wouldn't like to stay another month in New York.

The lampposts opened past you on your night out, there was practically no one there except those groups of young people who were returning to their homes.

"You're looking forward to going to the frontline," he said, placing his hands behind him and looking ahead.

"Aren’t you?" you smiled melancholyly, staring at him. "It's not me who's leaving tomorrow."

Bucky kept walking as he looked straight ahead.

"You know," you started. "Maybe it's stupid, but I feel like my work here is useless. I became a nurse three years ago to escape that Missouri town and see the world, and I enlisted in the army nursing corps to serve my country and do something worthwhile in my life. But I've been doing medical examinations on soldiers and giving injections for three years.”

You did not know at what moment you stopped, but you were in the middle of an alleyway illuminated only by a pair of street lights. Bucky was watching you carefully as you let your thoughts flow. 

"Practically everyone I know is struggling somewhere in the remote world, and I feel like I'm stuck and can't do anything to help," your mind went fast as your hands tried to express how you felt. "And tomorrow you're going thousands of miles away too and I'll still be here, getting up like I do every morning and giving medical check-ups to people who may not be with us for months.”

Your eyes became watery as you spoke. Finally you looked up from the floor and discovered that Bucky was looking serious as he listened to you, his expression made you nervous.

"I know, it's stupid," you quickly wiped away the tear that was going to fall down your throat by looking away and biting your tongue hard.

"No," Bucky denied with his face removing his cap. "Nothing you just said is stupid."

At the time you were a little embarrassed to have exposed how you felt, but your companion's reaction made you realise that he had hidden feelings too, and was not very likely to expose them either. Bucky raised his hand slowly, as if afraid of scaring you, and stroked your cheek. His caress made you shudder; it was so delicate that you closed your eyes to enjoy the time it lasted.

"You're looking forward to war," he whispered, staring into your eyes. "And I'm wishing you wouldn't."

You felt those words inside you too, they were a clear reflection of what you wanted, you didn't want him to go to the front tomorrow either.

"I'd kiss you right now," he whispered, focusing his gaze on your lips.

"Do it."

As if it were an order from a superior, Bucky accepted it and quickly shortened the distance between your lips. You had wanted to live that moment so many times and now it was happening, a few hours before his departure, and that was reflected in the need for that kiss. Your lips were opening up to each other, causing a more agitated breathing. It did not matter to you if someone was passing by or a curious person was watching through a window, it was your moment.

It was not until you parted that you discovered the fear you both felt within yourselves, the fear of not seeing each other again, and this was present in the kisses you gave each other until dawn.

MAIN MASTERLIST

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[devilbat]

Ridiculous

Warning: none really maybe swearing.. 

@jpat82 requested a Bucky one shot with these prompts trying to help me get into writing again. We will see.

Oh lord, he was cute, he was dimmer than a broken light bulb, but he was cute.

Would shooting you solve this problem? No? Then get out.

Do not worry about me. Worry about your makeup smearing.

     "Do not worry about me, doll. Worry about your makeup smearing." Bucky sighed heavily, fixing his tie. As he peered over at you through the floor-length mirror, watching you fidget with the mascara. "Or better yet, don't poke your eye out, kid." He turned full.

         "Well, obviously, I'm not as good as you with eyeliner." You grumbled as you throw the pen-like brush down with a little bit of force. "You know I'm going to kill Stark for this. Why can't you be in the dress."

         "As fun as you think that sounds, it's not going to look as good on me as it does you, doll." Bucky smirked as he handed you a pair of heels that you had planned on not wearing.

"Umm, I don't want those." You huffed, turning your head like you were a spoiled child refusing to do something. Bucky rolled his eyes.

"Put the damn heels on before I do it for you. You will not like it if I do it for you." Bucky blue eyes stared you down, practically challenging you. "Look at it this way; they will make an excellent weapon." He gestured, still giving you that winter soldier stares down.

"Ugh, Fine! Why do you have to make this more difficult than it needs to be." You whine in annoyance, yanking the stilettos out of his grasp. Grumbling while you slipped them on with ease.

       "I'm not the one bitching and complaining about what I'm wearing." Bucky raised an eyebrow at you crossing his arms.

"Easy for you to stay. You're wearing a suit. Besides, I'm not bitching or complaining. I'm just voicing my displeasure." You stated as you attempt to stand in the six-inch heels.

"Same thing." Bucky made his way towards the door. "Do I need to show you how to walk in those? Or will you be able to do it yourself?" Bucky watched you look like a newborn baby gazelle trying to walk toward him as gracefully as you could manage.

You had grabbed hold of the wall, trying to steady yourself. You were always more of cargo pants and a tank top kind of girl. Not formal gowns and heels. Your makeup was a far cry from professional at best.

"Bucky, just a reminder, I do still have a gun on me, and I will shoot you. Don't think I won't." You growled, glaring at the man in front of you with that damn snarky smirk of his.

"You know you keep threatening me, but you never make good on your threats, doll." Bucky walked over to you, his gloved hands grabbing ahold of your shoulder. "Now, let's get a move on. We don't want to miss the party." He shoved you forward, causing you to fall forward, almost face-planting on the floor.

         ——

                 You picked up the conversation well with the governor's wife and her babbling gaggle of wealthy women. She had accepted you well. Thinking that you were some Romanian royalty. You needed to get the intel. Boy, the scandal these women had could make hydra blush.

         "Oh, please tell us more about that hunky man you have as arm candy." The old ladies practically swooned over your supposable bodyguard as he stood within range of you. Talking with the governor and a few senators.

         "Oh lord, he was cute, he’s dimmer than a broken light bulb, but he was cute." You smiled as you glanced over your shoulder at the man that looked far at ease with everything going on.

          "You make it sound like he's past tense, trouble with your bodyguard?" One of the girls piped in.

         "A bit. I'm just looking for something younger, more flexible model if you know what I mean." You winked at the giggling old bats.

         "Well, Hun, if you need me to take him off your hands for the night. I wouldn't mind a few rounds with him. He looks like he has a few tricks up his sleeve." The governor's wife purred, looking over at your shoulder at the backside of Bucky. ‘Oh, does he have a few tricks up his one sleeve, that is.’ you thought.

           This was your chance to get more intel. Sure, you were throwing Bucky to the wolves, but hey, you need to get dirt on the governor himself. And maybe just a little payback on James for making you wear this ridiculous dress.

          "By all means, be my guest. I'm sure he has enough stamina for all of you." Oh yeah, you were a dead woman walking. You knew Bucky could hear you, and you could practically feel the dagger he was glaring at you with.

           The night wore on, and you grew tired, ready to be done with the night. And this damn heels off. Bucky had vanished like planned, and you had sweet-talked a few of the senators, getting a few details that you needed—finding your chance to excuse yourself for the night, you heady back to your room.

———

         Makeup finally had been removed as evidence lay scattered on the sink counter. The heels were tossed somewhere when you entered your room. Your dress laid a crumpled heap on the floor. The pin that held your hair up was being a bit more challenging than it needed to be. 

         You hoped that Bucky would have more luck than you did. Hell, maybe even get laid by someone more his age. You weren't even sure how long it’s been for the old man. God knows he tries so hard to ask you out. But he always fell short. Maybe one day he'll get the words out entirely, and that old confident cock 1940's Bucky would come back the one Steve told you so much about.

You were about to get into your pajamas when the door to your room burst open. Then slammed shut, making you jump, grabbing your gun in the process, your nightshirt was now forgotten. You glared at your intruder gun aimed low. Bucky panted as he leaned against the door.

"Doll, we have a situation." He breathed out. Looking you up and down, his head cocked to the side.

        "Would shooting you solve this problem?" Bucky raised an eyebrow in confusion. "No?" You lowered your gun, setting it back down on the nightstand. "Then get out." You yelled, snatching your shirt off the floor.

Tags: All: @kitkatkl @lokilvrr @instantnoodlese @drakesfiance @meyoko10 @miraclesoflove @scorpionchild81 @mintzxi @it-jinxed-us @twhiddlestonsstuff @aquariuslavenderhoney

[avintagekiss24]

Hot for teacher [5] > Bucky Barnes

PAIRING; Dark!Professor!Bucky Barnes x black!reader

WORD COUNT; 6,693

WARNINGS; Age gap, teacher/student dynamics, smut, sex, oral sex (female receiving), spanking, overstimulation, vaginal fingering, mentions of blood, crying kink, nipple play, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, aftercare, biting/marking, squirting

SUMMARY; Your weekend with Mr. Barnes is in full swing.

NOTE; This took me forever. I��m sorry. Hopefully, all of the sex in this will make up for it! I’m thinking this is going to be the second to last part for reader and Mr. Barnes before this series is complete. I have some fun ideas that get set into motion in this part :). Happy reading!

Line separator by writeyourmindaway!

☞ PART SIX | ☞ SERIES MASTERLIST

FRIDAY.

1493 Trellis Place, you can park in the garage and come in through the kitchen

Can’t wait to see you

You’re still packing your bag when his text comes across your phone. A large smile cracks your face in two as you wiggle excitedly and throw open your closet. You don’t even know what to take, really. You don’t plan on being clothed for the entire weekend, but Mr. Barnes may have different plans for you. You grab a white and blue maxi dress and some white pumps (in case he wants to do something fancy), throwing them in your school duffel bag before you turn towards your dresser. 

You grab tank tops and booty shorts, a  few pairs of leggings - a girl should always have options - and your absolute favorite bras and panties. You toss your makeup bag and random toiletries - birth control pills, lotion, phone charger, wallet and a small bottle of perfume - on top of the pile of clothing before zipping it up and tossing the strap over your shoulder. With your phone in your hand and a switch in your hips, you head out of your on campus apartment and move towards your Lexus, the lights flipping on as you unlock the doors.

The drive is unexpectedly long. He lives out on the outskirts of town, in a sleepy, upscale neighborhood. You slow down to creep as you move through the neighborhood, passing by cobblestone houses covered in vines and shrouded by mature trees. Siri’s voice rings through the speakers minutes later, telling you that your destination is coming up on your left. It’s a cute little cottage home, set back off of the street. You pull into the driveway and park in the garage, next to his light blue BMW. 

You grab your stuff and move through the dark garage, knocking on the door leading to the house before pushing through the threshold. You're instantly hit by the smell of cooking food. You move through the small hallway and come out into an empty kitchen. You set your bag down in one of the bar stools as you glance around the open floor plan before you step towards the stove top. You peek into one of the pots, breathing in the aroma of shrimp and let out a soft moan. A pot of pasta simmers next to it while two steaks sit on a sheet pan, perfectly seasoned and waiting to be grilled. 

You jump and gasp when two arms wrap around your waist, but soon dissolve into laughter as he presses his lips to your cheek. 

“Sorry, baby,” he whispers, nibbling on your ear as he rubs your hips, “Didn’t hear you come in.”

You turn in his hands and throw your arms over his shoulders, pecking him on his lips before you move in for a deeper, longer kiss. You moan and giggle as his fingers tickle at your sides. He palms your butt in his large hands before he slaps at it gently and points you towards the bar. You bite his bottom lip between your teeth before you take his suggestion to sit. You rest your chin in your palm as you watch him move around the kitchen, pulling out a red wine and pouring a glass before sitting in front of you.

“You don’t have to get me drunk, Barnes. I’m gonna fuck you either way.”

“Ha ha,” he laughs sarcastically, “Like I don’t know that already.”

You take a sip, moaning a little as you swallow, “Plying a teenager with alcohol could get you fired, you know.”

He laughs again as he places the steaks on the small, built in grill, “But fucking one won’t?” He asks, smirking all the while. 

You shrug, “Not in my estimation, no.”

He shakes his head at you as he sprinkles more seasonings onto the meat, “How are you feeling?” He asks softly, dropping his eyes from you for just a second. 

“Wonderful.” You answer confidently, smiling as you take another sip of wine. 

He cocks his head and narrows his eyes at you playfully, “Come on, drop the attitude please.”

“I don’t have an attitude.”

He smiles gently, “You don’t have to be like that with me. Not all the time.” 

You take a breath as you sit the wine glass back on the bar. You spin it slowly as you cock your head and blink back at him. He leans over the counter, taking a deep breath before he taps on your forehead.

“Are you okay here?”

You nod slowly, “I’m not a child.”

“I know that. I acknowledge that. I just want to make sure anyway.”

You take his hand in yours, bringing his fingers to your lips to kiss softly, “I’m okay.” You whisper, not wanting to admit that it’s kind of nice being able to relax your attitude, although briefly, “My pussy is sore,” you smile when he lets out a slight chuckle, “But I’m okay.”

His blue eyes bounce back and forth between your dark ones, “You’re sure?”

You smile slowly, kissing the tips of his fingers again, “Yes.”

“You’d tell me if you weren’t?” He asks, pushing his glasses up his nose.

You roll your eyes playfully, “Yes! Jesus, did you study psychology too?”

He bops your nose with his finger before he moves back to the small grill, “I have a friend who teaches psychology at Yale, maybe I picked something up from him.”

“Oooh,” you sing as you take another sip of your wine, “He sounds very sexy.”

Bucky cuts his eyes back towards you, “Stop it.” You laugh, prompting him to chuck a piece of shrimp at you as he smiles widely, “There is nothing sexy about Steve Rogers.”

“Steve Rogers? I love that name.” Your eyes widen suddenly, “Does he have his Doctorate? Is he Dr. Steve Rogers? Ugh, that’s hot.”

You wiggle your eyebrows as he stares back at you, his eyes squinted, his lips pursed, “What?” you ask innocently, “I’m totally not thinking about screaming out Dr. Rogers as he spanks me over his desk. Totally not.”

“You like doing this to me, do you?”

“What’s that, Mr. Barnes?”

“Making me jealous.”

You nod enthusiastically, “What gave me away?”

----------

This is possibly the best date you’ve ever had. You laugh wildly as you see just how nerdy he is as he recounts stories from his high school and college days. You didn’t realize how nice it would be to see him outside of school, to see him so relaxed and in his own space. It makes you relax - enables you to let your guard down, which is also really nice. It’s so nice, that you don’t even complain when he cuts you off after your second glass of wine and insists that you have water for the rest of the evening. 

You help him with the dishes once you’re both finished and let him take you by hand and lead you slowly through the house, giving you a small tour. 

“And this,” he says as he pushes through the door to his bedroom, “Is my room.”

You walk in in front of him, your eyes roaming over the spacious room. It’s a bachelor’s room for sure, the color scheme very dudeish, the large King sized bed the focal point of the room. You plop down onto the soft mattress, smoothing your hand over the dark blue bedspread as you glance over the flat screen TV hanging from the wall. Three large bay windows cover the wall to your left that give a great view of his sprawling backyard, complete with a Jacuzzi and pool. 

You jump off the bed and peek into the bathroom, smiling slowly as you find it everything you’ve ever dreamed of. Marble floor, a walk in shower and a garden tub, his and her bowl sinks sitting on the counter. 

“Mr. Barnes,” you start as you move back into the room, “A girl could certainly get used to this.”

He chuckles, “Good. I was a little worried you’d stick that rich little nose up in the air at my humble abode.”

You click your teeth, “No, I only do that to Cher, thank you.”

“Let’s not talk about her,” he titters, rolling his eyes as he walks up to you, “Let’s talk about getting you out of these clothes.”

You let out a soft breath as his nimble fingers start popping the buttons of your shirt. You keep your eyes on him and bite your bottom lip as he undoes each and every one before he pushes the white cotton shirt off of your shoulders. He crushes his chest into yours as he reaches behind your back with just one hand, unclasping your bra in one swift motion. 

He walks his fingers up your arms and over your shoulders as he leans in and sucks on your neck. Your eyes instantly close as you go kind of limp, letting your head roll to the side as you hum. He slips your bra straps down your arms and lets it fall to the floor between your feet. He lifts your arms and places them over his shoulders before he lifts you right from your feet. He carries you to the bed and lays you down, his hand behind your head, guiding you back onto the pile of pillows. 

He climbs on top of you and straddles your waist, keeping his mischievous eyes on you as he slowly undoes the buttons on his shirt. You push up onto your elbows, hungry to see his skin, to feel it against yours for the first time. He tosses it to the floor and you instantly reach forward, grazing your fingers over his chest and stomach. You lean forward and plant a kiss on his stomach, and then another, and another as you slide your hands along his back. 

You hear him chuckle again and you send your eyes back to his, smiling gently as he stares down at you. He cups your face in his hands and slides his thumb back and forth over your bottom lip and you couldn’t feel any better about yourself. You love being the apple of his eye - his perfect little princess. 

He works himself out of pants and pushes you back onto the mattress. He flattens his body on top of yours and attaches his lips back to your neck, kissing a trail between your breasts and down your stomach, right to the start of your skirt. He pulls away to lift each leg and remove your pristine white sneakers, dropping each one to the floor with a thud. He pulls at your skirt, unzipping the side zipper before he helps wiggle you free of it.

“Have I told you how much I like these?” He wonders aloud as he runs his fingers over your thigh high Adidas socks, “I don’t think I have. I really like these.”

“Why thank you, Mr. Barnes.” you answer, your voice sweet and thick. 

He grips your thighs, kneading your flesh before he spreads your legs. He settles between them as he flicks his eyes back to yours and rubs his prickly cheek against the inside of your thigh. You hiss at the friction, the soft sensation that ripples through your legs, making you tense suddenly. He drops a kiss just to the inside of your knee before he pushes his face to your sex, taking a deep breath to inhale your scent. 

You push your hips into him, encouraging him to touch you. You bite your lip again as he pushes his nose against your clit, the only thing between your flesh and his is your thin, wet panties. Within seconds, your panties join the rest of your clothing on the floor and your feet are dangling by his ears. 

You slam your eyes shut as he pushes his tongue through your folds before wrapping his lips around your clit. He sucks gently as his fingers skirt back to your breasts, grabbing your thick nipples. You push your hips into his face as he laps at your opening before pushing his tongue inside of your cunt. You grab his hand that covers your breast and roll your body as he devours you, flicking his tongue against the bundle of nerves at your center before he sucks your folds into his mouth. 

You push your hand into his short hair, balling it in your fist as you buck your hips into his wonderfully skilled mouth. He kisses you quickly before he climbs up your body and crashes his lips to yours, pushing his tongue into your mouth so you can taste yourself. His kiss is hard and deep as he moans into you, his erection pushing against your sex. 

“How do you taste, Ms. Prescott?”

You exhale softly as your head swims in arousal and a dreamy haze, “Like sugar.”

“Mmmm,” he moans as he pushes his cock inside of you, making you gasp with the sudden intrusion, “You’re goddamn right, baby girl. You taste just like sugar.”

Your muscles ache as the dull soreness from your first encounter rips through you. It hurts - but it’s sweet. It’s a feeling you wish you could keep forever. You dig your fingernails into his forearms as he hovers over you, his mouth going slack, his eyes closing to slits as he gets used to the tightness of your pussy. You lean up and kiss him hard as you start to move your hips, pushing him deeper into you before he slides out just a bit. You lay back down and wrap your legs around his waist, still gripping his forearms in your hands.

You squeal loudly when he thrusts hard into you, this time not taking a second to breathe. He slams into you over and over and over, the sound of his skin slapping against yours filling the room. You slam your head back on the pillows as he fucks you, ripples of pain quickly followed by rushes of intense pleasure coursing through your body. Just the thought of your pussy spreading for him, stretching out, just for him, makes you tense suddenly - your cunt squeezing him tighter. 

He falters - a deep groan slipping through his lips, “Christ,” he mumbles as he drops his head, leaning down to kiss you quickly. 

You squeeze your legs around his sides as he buries himself inside of you. The ache starts to bloom in your stomach after only a few minutes and rushes fast, much faster than the first time. You tense hard as your orgasm floods through your body seconds later. You dig your fingers into his skin as your thighs shake and your hips jerk up into his. 

He pulls you up and positions you in his lap as he sits indian style, “Oh no,” he starts as he nibbles on your lip, “I’m not finished with you yet, princess.”

He wraps your arms around his shoulders as he bounces you up and down on his dick, fucking you right through your orgasm. Muffled, jumbled words fall from your lips as you convulse, holding onto him for dear life. You drag your hands back through his hair, bunching it in yours hands as your bouncing tits graze against his hard chest. He fucks up into you without a care in the world - his lips curling into a wondrous smile as he tilts his head up towards you, just so he can watch you squirm. 

His fingers play with the ends of your braids, pulling gently at first but steadily adding more and more pressure until your head is craned towards the ceiling. You moan loudly as you bounce in his lap, flares of your orgasms still sparking within you. He crushes his chest to yours as his hot, wet lips press against your collar bone. He kisses up to the crook of your neck, his tongue darting out to swipe across the soft, sensitive skin before he bites down suddenly. 

You yelp as a sharp pain tears through you. You lean back, using your fingertips to hold on to his shoulders as his dick somehow starts to hit deeper than before. He leans forward and licks a path between your breasts before he circles your nipple, flicking his tongue against it. He takes your tit into his mouth, sucking hard as his hips continue to crush into yours. You fling your body back into his as you start to cum again. Your head falls back on your neck as you screech, your hands gripping his back as you melt around him. 

You start to feel a warmth ooze into you, Bucky’s cum filling your wet, sore cunt. He pushes his hips hard - fucking up into you with each spurt. You feel his cock jerk inside of you as he cums, his hand wrapping around your throat. You can barely hold yourself up, and you start to sway as your orgasm recedes back deep within you. 

He lets you fall back onto the mattress, his hands helping you down. Your eyes are heavy, your breaths hard, your body limp as he pulls out of you. You feel his weight shifting on the mattress and then his fingers between your folds, rubbing you gently. You jump when his lips press to the inside of your thigh, leaving behind sweet little kisses as he slips two fingers into your achy pussy. 

You whine instantly, rolling your hips as his fingers push against your sore muscles. He keeps his pace slow and his strokes gentle as he fingers you, shushing you all the while. He presses his thumb against the bundle of nerves at the apex of your hips and brushes his cheek and chin against your thighs. 

“You are such a good girl,” he whispers, “Taking all of me like that.” You roll your head and body, hissing and almost on the verge of tears from the stimulation, “Okay baby, okay,” he whispers, stopping his gentle assault with his fingers. 

He keeps his digits buried inside of you as he kisses up to your stomach, down the creases of your your legs, over your hot sex and back to your thighs. He finally pulls out of you and crawls over your spent body and settles on his side next you. 

He palms the side of your face and rubs his thumb over your bottom lip before he leans in to kiss you again - soft and slow. His fingers slip down to your breasts, sweeping over your nipples before he palms them both, squeezing gently before he kisses each one.

“These are beautiful,” he whispers as he brushes the tips of his fingers between your breasts, “My pretty girl.”

You start to shiver slightly, from the cool air rushing from the ac and the light brushes of his fingertips over your skin. He brushes his large palm over your face, leaning it to place another gentle kiss at the corner of your mouth. He slides his hands underneath your limp body and lifts you, cradling you to him as he carries you into the bathroom.

“Wherewegoin’?” you slur as you hear a stream of water start to rush. 

“Bath time,” he says softly, keeping you in his arms as he adjusts the water temperature, “You got blood all over me.”

You nuzzle into his chest as your cheeks start to flush with heat, embarrassment flooding through you, “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” He says sternly, not wanting you to be ashamed, “It’s perfectly normal. Okay?” You nod quickly, “You have something for your hair?”

“My bag.”

He sits you on your feet on the soft mat just outside of his shower. He keeps his hand on your back until you steady yourself before he pulls away and disappears from the bathroom. He reemerges minutes later, your flower patterned shower cap and a scrunchy in his hand. He sweeps your braids over your shoulders before he pulls it up into a tight bun. He peeks over your shoulder as he lowers the cap over your head, making sure every strand is covered sufficiently before he lifts you again. 

You hiss a little when the heat of the water hits your sensitive skin. He sits your back on your feet gently and adjusts the water, his chest flat against your back until he sees you relax underneath the forceful stream. He plucks the detachable wand from the wall and sweeps it over your chest and shoulders, along your back and then back around your waist and stomach.

He flattens his hand on your stomach as he pushes the wand lower, down to your achy sex and thighs. You watch as the water mixes with your blood as it pushes down your legs and swirls around the drain before it disappears. He reattaches the wand and reaches for his loofah, squeezing a dollop of body wash onto it before he starts to wash you. 

He starts at your collarbones with a circular motion. He sweeps over each breast and then underneath them, wanting to clean every crevice of you. He moves down to your stomach, around each thigh before he kneels to clean your calves and feet. You turn and lean against him as soon as he stands, wrapping your arms around him as he washes your back and shoulders. 

You separate from him for only as long as it takes him to wash his own body before you fall back into him, the warmth of the water and him radiating through you. The water turns off, but before the cool air can chill your skin, you’re wrapped up in a fluffy, tan towel. He pushes his hands up and down your back and arms a few times before he reaches for his own and towels off quickly - leaving droplets of water on his shoulders and chest. He throws it over his head and roughly dries his hair before discarding the towel to the floor.

He takes you by the hand and leads you back into the bedroom, pointing you towards the bench in front of his bed. He starts stripping the it in all of his nakedness, moving around you as he covers the mattress in a fresh, clean pair of pale blue sheets. Once he’s finished, you’re lifted again and stripped of your towel before you’re laid down, flat on your back. He rummages through your bag, finding your lotion and squirts some into the palm of his hand. He rubs the natural moisturizer into your skin, paying acute attention to every inch of your skin before he flips you over onto your stomach to repeat his actions. 

You’re half asleep when you feel his weight press into the mattress again. The room is dark now with only a soft light from the muted tv. The curtains are drawn, the house locked up tight as he pulls you into his body, crushing his chest into your back as he positions you on your side. You feel his fingers brush over your shoulder as he pushes your hair over it - his dick hardening and pushing into your ass as he pushes a leg between yours. 

You gasp hard when he slips into you again, your eyes fluttering as your pussy spreads from him once more. He pushes his hips softly into yours as he cups your breasts in his large palms, his lips pressing against your arm. He nibbles and bites as he fucks you for the third time of the day, nice and slow, until you’re quivering from another orgasm, hot tears streaming down your face as you’re overcome by all of the stimulation again. 

He presses sweet, slow, warm kisses down your spine as you calm down, lulling you into the best night of sleep you’ve ever had.

----------

SATURDAY.

The clock hanging from the patio flips to two fifteen pm. Your hair is pulled into another bun as you push through the water of his swimming pool. You’re still in the shallow end, standing on your tiptoes as you sip on a fruity cocktail he’s supplied you with and admiring the cute amazon, same day delivered bathing suit he bought for you last night after you fell asleep. You cut your eyes back towards him as he moves out onto the patio again, a plate full of cheese, fruit, crackers, and slices of meat.

You watch with a slight smirk on your face and the small glass pressed against your lips as he moves towards the pool and steps onto the first step, and then the second, before he’s waist deep. He sits the plate of food on the edge of the pool and takes a swig of his beer before he pops a small square of cheese into his mouth. You move over to him, latching onto his back and wrapping your long legs around his waist as you reach over his shoulder to grab a grape. 

“How’s your drink?”

“Mmm,” you hum as you chew up the grape before piling a cracker high with thinly sliced salami and a square of muenster cheese, “Super good. Strawberry margaritas are my favorite.”

“Says every teenage girl ever.”

You giggle, but playfully swat at his shoulder as he twists in your arms to face you, “You’ve entertained many teenage girls, have you?”

“Of course not.” He answers, furrowing his brows at the insinuation. You scoff and roll your eyes as he pushes you both deeper into the water, “I haven’t, you’re the first.”

Your eyes wander his face as a sense of pride swells in your chest, “Really?”

“Really. I used to have morals. My career meant something to me.”

“And it doesn’t now?” You laugh. 

“It does, but if anybody finds out about us, I’m royally fucked. I’ll never work again.”

You flatten your forehead to his and rub noses before you kiss him quickly, “Nobody is gonna find out, I promise.”

He takes the opportunity to scoff himself, “I mean it. Listen, with as much weed and coke that Peter sells to the students and the faculty of that place, he’d be the first to know if there were any rumblings. He’d shut that shit down quick.”

Mr. Barnes quirks his eyebrow, “Oh, would he now?”

“Stop it,” you say, clicking your teeth, “It’s nothing like that. He and I just go way back, is all. His dad works with mine. He watches my back, I watch his.”

“And Cher?”

You roll your eyes again, “She who shall not be mentioned has entirely too much dirt on her to rock the boat with any sort of accusations. She’d be finished at that school, she can’t afford that.” You take another sip of your margarita as he stares back at you, his eyes searching yours, “I mean it! You’re safe, I promise.”

“I suppose,” he sighs, “Plus, I don’t think I could give you up if I had to, your pussy is too good.”

”Ugh,” you toss your head back as he presses his fingers against your sex, “I’m so sore.” You laugh.

“Don’t say that,” he warns, pressing harder, “It turns me on.”

You groan, but it’s mixed with a laugh. You need a break, but you also want him to ravish you again, becoming quite accustomed to the feeling of his cock keeping you full. He twirls you around in the water, his fingers splayed over your back. You throw your arms over his shoulders and cock your head as you gaze back into his deep blues. You kiss him slowly, moaning at how much you like the feeling of his lips on yours. 

You push your tongue into his warm mouth and let it explore - pushing up to the roof of his mouth before sliding it along his own. You suck on his tongue lightly before you bite down on his bottom lip suddenly, drawing a hiss from him. 

“Feisty for somebody who’s begging for a break.” 

You shrug before finishing off your margarita, “I can take whatever you wanna give, Professor Barnes.”

“Such a champ,” he answers, wiggling his eyebrows, “Can I confess something?” He asks as his fingers push into your bottoms to cup your ass. 

“Of course.”

He brings his lips to your ear, “I like making you cry.” He whispers, “I like seeing you so vulnerable and almost... weak. That’s not a side of you that you like to show very often. Makes me feel like you trust me.”

“I do trust you.” 

You feel his cock twitch at your words.

He smirks back at you, “Looks like you aren’t catching a break today, Ms. Prescott.”

“Works for me.”

“Tell me,” he starts, throwing you over his shoulder and slapping your behind as he starts moving towards the steps, “What’s something you want to try in bed?”

“Exactly that.” you laugh as you bounce with each of his steps.

“What?”

“I want you to spank me as you finger my pussy.”

“Good God,” he laughs as he steps out of the pool, water splashing onto the ground from his trunks, “You didn’t even have to think about it?”

“I’ve been thinking about it since I was fifteen! I’ve just finally found someone to do it with.”

He collects his beer and moves to one of the chairs underneath one of the large pool umbrellas, setting you on your feet before he plops down. He pulls you over his lap without another word and pulls your bottoms over your ass and down your legs. You hear him take a swig of his beer before he sits it down next to his chair. He smooths his hands over your bare, damp skin, kneading it gently before he levels a quick slap, jolting your forward. 

You push a hard breath out of your mouth as he starts to rub your skin again. He smacks you again, and then a second time on the other cheek in quick succession. You moan as your pussy starts to throb, becoming slick. He pushes a hand between your legs and presses his fingers against your flesh, rubbing big, slow circles against your sex. He spanks you again and you grunt, wiggling your hips as you push your ass higher into the air. 

He slides his fingers between your wet lips, coating his fingers with your slick before he slides them inside of your cunt, pushing as deep as he can. He spanks you again and again and again, each one harder than the one before as he fingers curl inside of you. He fucks your tingly pussy with his thick digits as you beg for more - beg for him to spank you harder, faster, as you push back into his oncoming hand. 

He obliges every one of your requests - until you’re squirting all over his lap. Your ass is hot and tingly, your clit convulsing, your pussy quivering around his fingers as he fucks you right through the intense orgasm. Once you’ve calmed, he withdraws from you and goes back to soothing your irritated, burning skin, picking up his beer and swallowing the golden liquid slowly. 

He pulls you upright in one swift, fast motion, making you slightly dizzy. He tilts your head back and brings the rim of his beer bottle to your lips and tips it slowly until a steady stream pours into your open mouth. You guzzle it down, not caring that some dribbles down your chin and onto your chest. When he pulls it away, you wipe crudely at your lips with your fingers before you grab his hand and shove his sticky fingers into your mouth, sucking them clean. 

He slips his trunks down his hips, just enough to spring his cock free. You wrap your hand around him and stroke him gently before you straddle his waist. You feel his hands on your back as you guide him towards your entrance, sitting down on him slowly. You let out a soft breath as you wiggle slowly, adjusting your insides to his size. He undoes the string of your bikini top and tosses it to the ground as you start to move on top of him. He grabs his beer and takes another swig as you ride him, his eyes on your tits as they jiggle and bounce. 

The two of you lose the afternoon fucking on his patio underneath the shade of one of his large pool umbrellas. Once you’re spent, thoroughly fucked and sore to the point where you can barely move, he feeds you random pieces of fruit and little cracker sandwiches piled high with meat and cheese. He hydrates you with an ice cold bottle of water, tilting it to your lips and letting you drink before he pours a little over your chest to help cool down your hot skin. 

He carries you inside after a while and bathes you slowly in his garden tub, before he lays you out on his bed in all of your nakedness to let you nap as he starts dinner. This is turning out to be the best weekend of your fucking life.

----------

SUNDAY.

You lurch forward with each of his strokes, your head craned towards the ceiling as he pulls on the ends of your braids. You grip the sheets in your hands as he fucks you from behind - his hand gripping your side so hard that he just might leave bruises behind. Not that you mind - you’ll have a terrible time trying to cover all of the others he’s splattered across your flesh over the weekend. 

You peek over your shoulder and catch him watching the connection between the two of you. He watches your body swallow him up, the jiggle of your ass when it slams against his stomach, and then the reappearance of his cock before he’s buried deep in you again. You squeeze your pussy tight around him, wanting him to be the first to come for a change. He slaps your behind - a stern warning - but you don’t relent, you just keep on squeezing, keep on slamming back into him until he can’t stand it any longer. 

His grunts are loud and deep as he spills into you. He tightens the grip on your hair, pulling hard as his cock spits over and over, filling you up to the brim. You feel his spunk spill back out of your fucked pussy and slide down the inside of your thigh. 

He flips you over onto your back and slaps at your thighs, wanting you to keep them open. He pushes his cock through your folds, the tip of him tickling your clit. He pushes his knees into the backs of your thighs and rubs your clit with the pads of his fingers before he slaps at it gently. He replaces his fingers with his dick, slapping it against you as his free hand reaches up to fondle one of your nipples. 

He rolls your thick skin gently between his fingers, and then pinches and tweaks it as he continues to slap his dick against your sensitive bud, pushing you closer and closer to another release. He releases your nipple to slip his hand between your legs to push them just inside of you - fingering your wet hole. He slaps his dick against your bud a few more times and a geyser erupts from you. Your entire body shakes with your orgasm as you spew your sweet juices all over his stomach. 

He continues to tease you, patting your clit with his fingers until he’s sucked every last drop from you. You cover your face with your arm as you pant, your body jerking involuntarily as random sparks of electricity bounce through you. Mr. Barnes slips his hands through your tits, flattening and spreading his fingers along your skin as you bite down into your bottom lip. 

“Jesus,” you mutter.

“That’s what you get, naughty girl.” He says, falling onto the mattress beside you.

He pulls you on top of him, and you nuzzle into his chest and neck, dropping sloppy kisses to his jaw and throat, “I’ll be naughty a little more often then.”

“You’re such a brat.” He laughs, wrapping his arms around your back. 

“You love it.” You mumble, placing one last kiss to the middle of his chest before you settle down into his warm body again.

You close your eyes as he starts to stroke your back with his finger tips, up and down, up and down, up and down your spine in a slow rhythm. You drift off after a few minutes, not sure how long has passed when you suddenly pop your eyes back open. You rub your face as you shift on top of him, glancing up to see his glasses adorning his face one again as he taps on his phone. 

“Who are you talking to?” you ask absentmindedly, placing your head back on his chest.

“Cher.”

You snap your head up, pushing away from his chest as your eyes narrow. His body starts to shake with laughter underneath you. You scoff loudly and start to roll off of him, but he stops you, grabbing your wrist to hold you still. 

“Oh, relax! Learn how to take a joke.”

“I can take a joke, asshole,” you hiss back, “She is no joking matter.”

He chuckles as he forces you to lay back down on him and tosses his phone to the other side of the bed, “Remember my buddy Steve I was talking about?”

You huff, but cuddles back into him, “Dr. Sexy, I remember.”

“Stop it,” he says, pinching your side playfully, “Anyway, they’ve got visits coming up. I was asking if they were full yet, in case you wanted to check them out.”

You perk up again, “Really?”

“Ummhmm. Is Yale on your list?”

“Of course it is! Yale, Harvard, Dartmouth, Princeton - Cornell and Brown as backups.” You start to kiss all over his face, over his eyes and nose, lips and cheeks as he chuckles, “You’re incredible.”

“Oooh,” He bucks his hips into yours playfully, “I like the sound of that. He’s gonna put you on the list. He also let me know that there’s an opening for a Philosophy Professor in the fall.”

You gasp, sitting up right and drumming your fingers against his broad, shapely chest, “Are you gonna apply?”

He shrugs as he gazes up at you, “I kinda like teaching you privileged assholes.”

Your face falls as you poke out your bottom lip, “But we’ll be so far away from each other. You’ll probably start fucking somebody else next year and forget all about me.”

“You’ll do the same.” He laughs, “You’ll fuck Steve and won’t even remember my name.”

You slap at his chest, making him laugh again, “I will not. Well, I mean,” you toss your eyes towards the ceiling, “I’ll fuck him, yeah, but I won’t forget about you.” 

He pinches your sides again and you squeal, squirming away from him as you fill the room with laughter, “Come on, apply for it. Pwease?” You beg, “It’ll be fun going off to a new school together.”

He smiles up at you as he pushes his hands up and down your thigh, “I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll convince you.” You say confidently, nodding slowly.

“Will you now?”

“Yes.” You answer simply.

He shakes his head and rolls his eyes before he pulls you back down to his chest, “Time for bed, Ms. Prescott. We’ve got school tomorrow.” He says, flipping off the lamp and taking a deep breath, “What time do you want me to wake you tomorrow?”

“Same time you get up. That’ll give me time to suck you off in the shower.”

He chortles again, “That’s one way to get the day started.”

“Well, you know what they say, don’t you?”

“No, Ms. Prescott. What do they say?”

“Cock is the most important meal of the day.”

He laughs loudly as he squeezes you to him, planting a kiss to the top of your head, “I’ve got to be the luckiest man on the planet.”

“Indeed you are, Professor.”