#their eyes meet while steve's up on stage. he hates these things. hates being dragged into the spotlight. he feels naked and bare and

[cowboyhorsegirl]

Steve is most likely to end up in a lavender marriage and Tony's most likely to end up in a “married for tax/immigration/inheritance fraud” reasons.

They meet as married men and pine for each other hardcore and are also trying not to read too much into how their interest seems reciprocated and oh nooooo both Immigration/the IRS and the the Church/in-laws/DADT era army dudes or whatever are snooping around at the same time at each of their marriages and they have to be so good at being married at the people they are married to oh noooooo and they other guy doesn’t know why they are suddenly being iced out and maybe they were just imagining things? maybe it’s for the best with all these eyes around on them…

[atimeofyourlife]

I love you though you hurt me so (I'm gonna pack my things and go)

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt: proposal | rated: t | wc: 921 | tags: failed proposal, break up, angst, hurt/no comfort Steve had never wanted anything to do with the public eye, but Eddie kept pushing him further and further. The proposal was the breaking point. title from tainted love by soft cell

The proposal was the breaking point. After years together, it was the final nail in the coffin, the end of the relationship.

Steve had always been uncomfortable with the thought of having any of his life displayed for the public to see. He just wanted a calm life working as a teacher, or about as calm as working with kids could be. It was part of the reason that made him unsure of the relationship when Eddie first started talking about trying to break into the music scene, to try to make it big. He didn't want to be hounded because of who he interacted with, he didn't want his every move to be plastered all over every gossip magazine. Eddie convinced him to stay together by promising that he would be kept out of the public eye, out of public knowledge. That he would be protected in every way.

But that didn't last. As the band got bigger and bigger, Eddie started pushing for Steve to do more and more alongside him. To be at more gigs, to attend events and red carpets. He didn't keep the promise of total anonymity, instead gushing to interviewers about Steve. Talking about how they met, Steve being a teacher, Steve's hobbies and past. All things he wanted to keep private. He would get kids and their parents asking him questions about the band, trying to use him for access to the band, for tickets, merch, meet and greets. It made him feel like his life was spinning out of control, all because Eddie couldn't keep Steve private.

The proposal was Steve's worst nightmare. He'd brought up to Eddie multiple times that he wanted to be less in the public eye, he wanted his privacy back. Eddie would agree, and it would get better for a while, but then it would slowly return to the same thing. And they hadn't even talked about the possibility of marriage, Steve not feeling ready for it, knowing that it would be a big affair. That there would be photographers at every point, all details being recorded for the world to see, and the guest list would be far out of his control.  The closest they'd gotten to talking about it was Steve telling Eddie that he hated the idea of a public proposal, wanting something small and private and personal instead.

Eddie went overboard. It was one of the few times Steve was attending a gig, watching from the side of the stage. It was going fairly normally, playing the set list, pausing at times to chat with the crowd. But then Eddie went off script, and the band all seemed in on it.

"Now, I'm going to do something a bit out of the ordinary. I've spoken so many times about the love of my life, my wonderful Stevie. He's here tonight, and I want him to join us on stage for a moment."

Steve froze, not sure how to avoid this. It was something he'd never agreed to, not that Eddie had paid attention to anything Steve didn't agree to. Before he could react, the other members of the band had grabbed him and dragged him on stage. He felt massively overwhelmed by the bright lights and the amount of people staring at him.

"Steve, you are the most important person in my life, I have never met anyone who gets me the way you do. I'm so in love with you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Steven Harrington, will you marry me?" Eddie got down on one knee, and pulled out an extravagant ring.

Steve was stunned, unable to take anything in. He was vaguely aware of a microphone being shoved in his face. He opened and closed his mouth several times, feeling totally speechless. This was the worst possible way Eddie could have done this, absolutely against everything he could have wanted.

"No." Steve managed to get out, his voice projected through the speakers. There was a moment of silence, able to hear a pin drop. Then everyone started murmuring. Eddie looked confused, as did the rest of the band.

"Stevie-" Eddie whispered, away from the mic.

"Eddie, I can't. This isn't what I want. This isn't me." Steve replied quietly, before fleeing the stage. Everything felt mixed up, and he knew it was over.

He did hang around, waiting for Eddie and the band to get off stage. Wanting to clear everything up. To deal with it in private. Most of the band just filed away when they saw him, leaving him and Eddie alone.

"What the hell was that about?" Eddie burst out.

"That's exactly what I wanted to ask you." Steve shot back. "You know I want to keep things private. I keep trying to give you the benefit of the doubt. But then you go and do that."

"Well excuse me for wanting to share how much I love you with the world."

"Do you really love me? Because if you did you wouldn't keep forcing me into positions I don't want to be in. You would have respected my wish of being anonymous. But you didn't. You never have." Steve replied, trying to fight back the emotion.

"Sorry for wanting to show off my love."

"It's not enough, Eddie. I. It's over. I'll be out of the apartment by the time you're done with this tour." Steve said, turning and walking away, heading to the parking lot for the cab he'd called.

[jamneuromain]

Jam, in honor to the song I was just listening I propose a battle for our reader.

😠 + 😉 with Andy VS Steve. Steve was your first love, Andy is your current amazing love. Fight fight fight (not physical obviously lol🥊!

hmmm.... It's such a tough call! But since Andy is your current amazing love, I rule for-

Ugh I hate ex-bf being all gloating and smug when you meet again

Not Him

Previous Steve Rogers x You; Andy Barber x You

Warning: Ex-Steve, Reader is in her late 20s, Andy a few years older than reader (but not mentioned specifically). None?

Summary: You met someone unexpected, your ex, Steve, on your way to your class. What's the worst that could happen? Answer: Andy happened.

A/N: Hiya! Sorry it took so long to get it out :( I've been clearing my draftbox as best as I can.

Someone called out your name behind your back, and you instinctively snapped your head in that direction.

Blonde, built, and that smile-

"Oh, Steve. Hi." You instantly recognized the man from your past.

You met Steve when you attended high school. While he was the famous football quarterback for the school team, you were practically nobody, and if it weren't for a class you shared, you wouldn't even know each other in your separate lives.

One thing led to another, and you became high school sweethearts, before breaking up a few months later.

"Hey." He jogged up to you. That sunshine-dazzling smile nearly splitting his face in two, "It's been... what, ten years? Wow..." He exclaims, carefully observing you from head to toe.

"Yeah, I mean, I haven't seen you since ... the prom?" You casually switched the pile in your hand to the other, smoothing your T-shirt.

Oh yes, the high school prom where you had two dances before he spent the whole night with the pretty British girl with a posh accent. What's her name? Petra? Penny? Next day, your phone was blasted with Instagram notifications telling you from all aspects and angles how they kissed as Prom King and Queen. Not that you didn't know it already, when you were there, under the stage.

"You-uh heading somewhere?" He pointed at your stack of papers, teasing ever so slightly, "I've seen you still not giving up on studying, huh?"

"Well, I-"

"I'm working as a coach now," He interrupted before you could finish your sentence, flashing his team jacket before your eyes, even tapping on the chest where the team name is visible to any man within eight feet if they weren't complete blind.

"Wow." You nodded, playing along, "Uni team, impressive."

Too bad you were never a decent sports fan that could share Steve's enthusiasm as to which legendary figure saved the day with a ball in their hands - nor did you find being a coach "impressive" ... or intrigued, for that matter, because being in front of glamouring Steve fucking Rogers made you shrink back to your high school self-image again: a small, inconspicuous, socially unidentifiable shadow of a being that you could barely recognize. And yet, the contrast between Steve and you reminded you every single time, that you do not belong to a world of his, a world where books and glasses are symbols of "nerds" or "geeks" and are perfectly fine to make fun of, a world where if you don't like sports - or not being a potential athlete, you should be eliminated in every social context.

"Yup." He popped the "p" with his full lips, "If you want the tickets next season-" Steve pointed towards himself with both thumbs, the lop-sided smile made him look smug as ever, "This guy is your go-to-guy."

More like your never-go-to guy. You scoffed, adjusting your expression to a small smile as soon as he turned his focus on you, "Sorry, I think I need to head to my next class."

"C'mon-" Steve dragged his tone almost annoyingly, "Skip it. Don't you have some time for me, for old time's sake?"

You could have ten more minutes for him before the next class. But you didn't want to. Which was the point.

"Hey, honey." Came a voice behind your back, startling you just a little. An arm draped around your shoulders, squishing you into a familiar embrace, "I've been calling."

You let out a sigh of relief. More so when the owner of this familiar voice took the stack of papers from your arms into his own, and rubbed your sore arm for having to hold the pile for quite a while.

"Sorry." You apologized to your beloved boyfriend Andy, "I must've silenced my phone during the class."

" 's okay." Andy pressed a kiss to your temple, whispering, "Wanted to ask you about lunch anyway. Nothing important." Andy slowly moved his eyes away from yours, and acted as if he had just seen Steve, a 6-foot man who appeared out of nowhere, "Who do we have here? Honey, would you mind introducing?"

"Sure. This is my ex, Steve, from high school. Steve, this is Andy, my boyfriend."

The moment the word "ex" escaped from your lips, you became aware instantly that your boyfriend had entered his suit mode, every available muscle tensing up in his body, and like a good huntsman, ready to strike when he sees the glimpse of a failure of his opponent. Where you hoped that "high school" from your introduction would calm his nerves, it certainly achieved the opposite when you heard your boyfriend say: "Oh..." in a thoughtful way, "the quarterback-captain, am I right?" as he extended his hand to shake Steve's.

Yup. It definitely made Andy slightly on edge.

"I'm part of the coaching team on campus, actually." Steve flashed his identity proudly before Andy, shaking Andy's hand in an equally firm grip, "Go Falcons."

"Oh..." said Andy again, more thoughtfully, "I'm a professor here in the Law School - You wouldn't happen to be the coach assistant of Karl?"

This just turned more competitive than you would think. Yet, it did bring a tinge of amusement when Andy confirmed your suspicion that Steve was too young to be made a coach, while the position of coach assistant was for brainless jocks who did all the dirty work coaches didn't want to, the heavy-lifting and paperworks, for instance.

"Well," Steve sneered, "I thought dating a student was improper conduct, Professor."

"Excuse me?" Andy raised his brows. So did you.

"You heard me." Steve nodded towards you, "Her, a student, obviously. It would be a great unfortunate if the dean might hear about such a rumour somewhere, wouldn't it?"

He said almost challengingly.

Wow. Typical Steve as ever. The girl he dated after prom, the British girl, was rumoured to have had a bad break-up previously. According to gossip that ran in the school bathroom, the British girl was told that her ex was cheating - which turned out to be a false alarm, but they broke up anyway.

Now you guessed you knew who was the little birdie that shared the false information with that poor girl.

Andy snorted out laughter. The corner of his lips could barely contain themselves as he struggled to keep a straight face, "Marvelous." Andy clapped - more like tapping his palm with the other hand, before asking for your permission, "Should you do this or should I?"

You scoffed. Really scoffed in front of the glorious quarterback that you liked a decade ago, "For your information, Steve, I'm working as a lecturer at this university. So, go start your devious little plan elsewhere. If you don't mind, I have a class to teach - C'mon, Andy."

You dragged Andy by his arm and led him out of the battlefield.

"Nice." Andy commented, not bothering to look back at his opponent, with a pleasing grin that was probably going to mold on his face for all eternity. "Did you see the look on that guy's face? Spectacular. So proud of you, Honey."

"Yeah, not my best moment having to face a dickhead-ex." You huffed out, "Jesus, why didn't I know he was that big of a jerk when I started dating him?"

"I know," Andy said, sympathetically, "Don't worry though, I noticed that your choice of man has had a significant change for the better."

You shot him a dirty glare, which Andy took, feigning he just got hit on the chest.

"Sorry, no joking, got it." Andy made a pained face which caused you to involuntarily grin. Quickly abandoning the idea of the ex in his mind, Andy finally returned to the topic for which he came to find you, "What's for lunch again? Cafeteria?"

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[pascalsummers]

Paralyzed (Bucky x Male Reader)

Summary: You tend to freeze around your crush a lot. Maybe a song will help

A/N: This is my first post on here! I hope you enjoy it! Also the song used is called Paralyzed by Big Time Rush.

-

Having your crush think you hate them was the biggest mistake of your life. You didn't mean for it to end up this way but life had a way of messing with you. It all started the first day you meet Bucky. You were sitting in the living room scrolling through your phone when he walked in. You heard about the man from Steve and the rest of the Avengers. You were an Avenger yourself but a more "Call me if you need me." member. So you never actually saw how he looked. "Oh, you must be Y/N? I'm Bucky." He said causing you to turn around to him staring at you. The moment your eyes meet you instantly fell in love with him. This is why you stared at him wide-eyed before speed walking out of the room. Sadly you had the unfortunate tendency to get paralyzed every time you saw a crush of yours. Meaning you never actually talked to any of them. You tried to talk to Bucky but every time he looked at you your confidence fell to the floor and you quickly left the scene. It didn't take long for the rest of the Avengers to see you in action. It confused all of them to see you avoid Bucky like the plague especially Steve. This is why you were being seated in the conference room with Steve and Tony at the moment. "I already told you guys I don't hate Bucky!" You exclaimed leaning back in your chair. You were always asked the same question and it irritated you. Of course, you can't blame them since you never gave them a straight answer. "You say you don't hate him. But leaving the room the moment he walks in doesn't say much else. You see the problem here?" Tony said waving his hand around the room emphasizing why you were dragged in here in the first place. "Bucky's a good man Y/N. I know his past isn't the greatest but he's trying to make up for it. You don't have to be friends with him just... give him a chance okay?" Steve pleaded, giving you a small smile though you could see the hurt in his eyes. Steve was probably the most hurt by your actions since he and Bucky go way back. You opened your mouth to say something but decided against it. Instead, you mumbled a small okay before walking out of the room and heading straight to yours. Though you weren't at the tower a lot they still wanted you to have a room letting you know you were always welcomed. As you turned the corner you found yourself bumping into someone. "Sorry, my-" You started before you looked up and saw you bumped into none other than Bucky himself. You immediately looked at the ground avoiding his gaze. "Sorry." You said quickly before speed walking away from him.                                                             + + + + Bucky watched as you walked down the hall, your form slowly getting smaller before disappearing completely. He let out a heavy sigh as he turned his head back to where you were standing. Bucky was used to people avoid him considering his past. Though watching you do it hurt him more than it should have. Though that was probably because he had a small crush on you. He continued walking down the hall finding the conference room door wide open. Walking closer he could make out the voice of Tony and Steve who seemed to be talking about you. "I think he's scared of me," Bucky said leaning against the doorway catching the attention of Steve and Tony. Steve let out a small sigh. "Could be. I'm sorry Buck." Bucky waved him off. "It's not your fault. I'm... used to it. even if it's from an Avenger." He said trying not to sound as hurt as he felt.                                                             + + + + After locking yourself in your room you fell onto your bed, letting out a long groan. You knew you had to tell Bucky sooner or later. With your other crushes you usually never saw them the next school year and could forget they ever existed. But Bucky? you couldn't forget him you didn't want to forget him. So with that, you dragged yourself to your desk and began writing. You were a singer in a band before you joined the Avengers. The team would always want to hear you sing whenever it was brought up but you were too shy to do it. Whenever you got a crush you always wrote a song about them and kept it in a binder in your house. You never performed those or your other original songs cause of nerves. This week though all of that would change. It didn't take you long to write the song which surprised you. "Okay, now to show the band." You said to yourself as you grabbed your bag and stuffed the papers in. You opened your door and did a quick peek outside seeing if Bucky was coming down the hall. Once the coast looked clear you stepped into the hallway and made a beeline to the elevator. Finding your bandmates was also a walk in the park. Since all of them were roommates anyway and never left home. You showed them the song and they were ecstatic to perform it. So that week while you were out of the tower you and your bandmates worked on the song till it was perfect. Now the only hard part was performing it.                                                             + + + + It was about a month after the talk with Tony and Steve and things were... progressing between you and Bucky. Now you could be in the room with him for at most two minutes before running away! The team didn't like how short the time was but it was some progress. The Avengers were in the living room talking amongst themselves when you barged into the room catching everyone's attention. "You okay Y/N?" Natasha asked still moving the bowl of popcorn out of Clint's reach. You took a deep breath and collected yourself. "My band is having a show tonight and I want you all to come and watch me!" You said as fast as you could before your confidence ran out. The room fell silent for a minute before everyone started cheering. It surprised you how eager they were to hear you sing. With that, you told them all to get dressed and gave them the location before leaving the room. You mentally high-fived yourself for getting this far. Now all you had to do was sing the song and confess to your crush at the same time.                                                             + + + + "Dude you are shaking more than usual." Brett, your guitarist, said while he messed around with his instrument. Brett and you have been friends ever since you were kids so he knew what was up when you gave them the song. You took a deep breath while fiddling with the mic in your hand. "I have so many first happening today. My first time singing a song in front of the avengers, my first time performing an original song, my first time telling a crush I like them? It's... a lot to handle at once." You admitted feeling a little bit better after getting it off your chest. Brett gives you a kind smile. "Y/N your gonna do great. Just remember to breathe and know that I will always have your back. Okay?" You smiled at his kind words feeling yourself relax more. You were going to say something else but a voice signaling your band to come on stage stopped you. "Well, no turning back now." You joked as you took one final breath before walking onto the stage. Immediately you see the Avengers all seated at a table closest to the stage all wearing a suit or a dress. Seeing Bucky in a black suit with his hair tied back almost made you faint on the spot but you had a job to do. After the clapping died down you cleared your throat and began your little speech before the show. "Hey everyone it's good to be back! So today is a special occasion not only because we have earth's greatest defenders here with us tonight but we're also performing our first original song!" The amount of clapping and wooing you heard was almost deafening. Though you didn't know if they were clapping about the song or the people. "The lyrics are pretty self-explanatory so I won't bore you with the meaning. Without further ado here's our song Paralyzed!" With that, you signaled to your band to begin playing the song. As the song began to play you took one last breath and closed your eyes feeling the music flow through you. It was now or never.                                                             + + + + To say the Avengers were excited to hear you would be an understatement. They were practically bouncing in their seats like little kids waiting to hear you sing. Well except for Bucky who tried to keep a neutral look but anyone could see he didn't want to be there. Before they left he told Steve that you probably didn't want him to come but invited him anyway to be nice. Steve could see the look on Bucky's face and tried to reassure him. "Come on Buck. We're here now aren't we? Might as well enjoy it right?" He reasoned giving Bucky a small smile. Bucky rolled his eyes in response but tried to get comfortable. Though he thought you hated him, he did want to hear your voice. Even if it would never be directed towards him. You, you walked into the room On a Friday afternoon That's when I saw you for the first time And I was paralyzed The moment those words left your mouth the Avengers were surprised by how good you sounded. Though Bucky furrowed his brows as he thought about the first time he met you. "Could he? No that can't be it." Bucky reasoned with himself trying to focus on your voice instead of the lyrics. I had a million things to say But none of them came out that day 'Cause I was never one of those guys That always had the best lies Bucky once again thought about the first time you too met and how the lyrics seemed to fit. Though he once again wrote it off as a really weird coincidence. Right? I try to speak, but boy you got me tongue-tied I try to breathe but I'm f-f-f-frozen inside I try to move but I'm stuck in my shoes You got me paralyzed, paralyzed, p-p-p-paralyzed

I see you walking, but all you do is pass me by Can't even talk, cause words don't come into my mind I'd make a move if I had the guts to But I'm paralyzed, paralyzed, p-p-p-paralyzed As you sang those lyrics the Avengers started to piece things together. They went wide-eyed when the realization hit them. It was a love song. A love song about Bucky. Now I learned a lot from my mistake Never let a good thing slip away I've had a lot of time to look back And my only regret is Not telling you what I was going through But you didn't even know that "I think this is about you, Buck," Steve whispered during the second chorus, playfully jabbing his friend in the side. Bucky barely registered Steve's voice as his mind tried to wrap around the fact that you didn't hate him. In fact, it was the total opposite. As the years go by I think about you all the time, whoa If I get the chance I hope I won't be paralyzed, paralyzed by you Bucky watched as you closed your eyes, finally feeling all your confidence return with a vengeance. When you opened your eyes your E/C ones were staring into his blue ones. You walked into the room On a Friday afternoon Bucky couldn't help the smile that crept onto his lips as he watched you. The rest of the Avengers spent the time looking between you and Bucky still shocked by the love confession. "I think it's safe to say no one was expecting this?" Clint whispered to the team who all just slowly nodded in agreement. When the song ended there was silence for a small moment before the crowd went wild. Bucky watched you breathing heavily, your eyes still trained on his. Without much thought, Bucky got up from his seat and walked to the stage causing the room to fall silent. Bucky could see the worry in your eyes as he got close to you. Though it only lasted for a small moment before the man pressed his lips to yours. The crowd once again went crazy including the Avengers who were more than happy to see the two of you together. "I thought you hated me." Bucky breathed out as he rested his forehead on yours. You chuckled slightly still trying to catch your breath from the song and the kiss. "I don't hate you Bucky. I'm just an idiot." "Well, you are my idiot now doll." He said before pressing his lips to yours again.

[vacant--body]

do you think of me? (b.b.)

summary: bucky is jealous of your new boyfriend

fic inspired by She Thinks of Me- Landon Tewers

Warnings: smut, dom!bucky, sub!reader, female!reader. jealous!bucky, hate fucking(ish), semi public sex, slight dub!con, bucky has a filthy mouth, pet names (little girl), fwb, they both have feelings for each other but don’t want to admit it, MINORS DNI 18+

side note: this is….yeah. just yeah. have fun ;)

You were nervous. Nervous for multiple reasons. Tonight was the night the team would be meeting you boyfriend, Matt. You knew that with being the youngest member of the team, they were overprotective of you. You didn’t mind, but sometimes they were overbearing. Particularly Tony and Steve. There was going to be a million questions and a million snarky comments.

Your heels clicked against the pavement as you walked towards the night club. Tony had rented it out for the night because it was Steve's birthday, but you knew this was the last thing Steve wanted. He wasn't much of a party guy but Tony insisted. 'It's not everyday that someone turns 100' he said.

Matt wrapped his hand tightly around yours as the two of you grew closer to the door, and you gave him a small smile. He knew you were nervous, he just didn't know why. Truth is, you were nervous to see Bucky. He had cut you off a month ago after you confessed your feelings for him. He then took a undercover op, so you hadn't seen him since that night. But he returned yesterday just in time for Steve's party, of course.

Your relationship with Bucky was complicated to say the least. At first it started off with harmless flirting, but you told him you weren't ready for a real relationship yet. Then, he suggested that you two become friends with benefits, and it was good for a while. 6 months of sex without attachments was amazing, especially with Bucky. He tapped right into your kinks after the first night, and it was mind blowing.

But then, you developed feelings for him. Feelings that you promised you wouldn't get. And when you finally grew the courage to tell him, he shot you down. Saying that he wasn't looking for anything more than a quick fuck. It broke your heart, but you got over it. At least you thought you had.

The doors to the club swung open and the heart pounding music fell out into the street. The bouncers nodded at you as you passed through the threshold, and you scoffed to yourself. The party didn't need bouncers, most of everyone here is wanted in at least 10 different countries.

"Y/N!" Wanda yelled, waving you over. She was sitting with Vision at a large round table. You smiled and walked over to her, dragging Matt behind you. "Hey! I'm Wanda!" She beamed, sticking a hand out to him. He shook it and smiled shyly. "This is Vision."

"Yeah, I know!" Matt laughed. "The stone-it's cool!" He pointed at Visions forehead.

"Where is everyone?" You asked, looking around. The club was packed.

Tony really went all out tonight. Strobe lights illuminated faces in the crowd, the music was so loud you thought your heart would burst out of your chest, and of course, Tony had strippers and dancers post up on every stage. Everyone was being served fancy glasses of champagne for starters, then the bar was a free for all. Large balloons floated above your head, the number 100 decorated in red, white, and blue, obviously.

"Up at the bar. Tony bet Barnes and Steve against each other on who could get the drunkest the fastest."

You swallowed hard at the mention of Bucky's name. He was already here, but you already knew that. You felt his eyes on you as soon as you walked through the door. Only Wanda knew about you and Bucky's relationship, she was the only one you trusted enough to tell. Your gaze drifted towards the bar, immediately finding Bucky's eyes. His emotions were practically radiating. Your snapped your attention back to Wanda and she looked like she wanted to say something.

You snatched the champagne flute out of her hand and chugged the rest of it. The bubbly liquid slid down your throat, starting a warm fire in your belly. "Well, lets go say hi." Grabbing Matt again, you pushed your way through the crowd. You free hand landed on Tony's shoulder and he turned around.

"Y/N!" He cheered. "Who's this? I thought we had a rule, no bringing home strangers."

"Tony," You groaned, rolling your eyes. "This is Matt. My boyfriend."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Steve shouted. "Boyfriend? You're like 16, you can't have a boyfriend!"

"I'm 23, Steve." You snorted.

"Cap, get back to drinking. Barnes already has you beat." Tony snapped. "But yeah. You're like 16!"

"Oookkaayy." You huffed.

"Who's the twig?" Another voice asked. It sent shivers down your spine. "His arms are the size of my fingers."

"Bucky." You smiled, your words dripping with venom. "This is Matt. He's a tech analyst, not everyone can break skulls with a punch."

"So, what you're sayin' is that when you two get mugged, you're gonna have to fight 'em. Looks like wind could knock him over." He smirked. Your eyes bore into his and he stared back, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. You felt Matt shift uncomfortably beside you.

"Isn't past your bed time, James?" You snarled, your fixated gaze still not leaving Bucky's.

"Isn't it past yours, Y/N?" His domineering smirk grew. He didn't show it, but Bucky was furious. His normal icy blue eyes were overtaken by his blown up pupils. That should be his hand around your waist. And that skimpy little dress you had on was running his mind ragged.

Finally, you peeled your sight away from Bucky's and took Matt's hand, stomping off towards the dance floor. You could feel Bucky's eyes following you as you left. You spun around, cupping Matt's cheeks and muttered something he didn't quiet hear, and pressed a hard kiss onto his lips. It was wet and sloppy, teeth gnashing into each other.

You danced with Matt until you legs felt like jelly. His hands roamed your hips, squeezing and grabbing. Sometimes your back would be pressed against his back and you would grind against him. You were practically dry humping him in the middle of the dance floor. Sweat beaded on your forehead, threatening to ruin your makeup you had spent hours perfecting.

"I'm gonna get something to drink!" Matt yelled in your ear. You nodded, sitting down at one of the empty tables.

You pulled your phone out, your breath getting caught in your throat as you saw the multiple text messages from Bucky.

Do you think of me when he's fucking you?

I bet he thanks me when he's fucking you.

I own you bitch, yeah you know it's true.

Why you hadn't blocked his number yet was beyond you, and now you were regretting it. Your head snapped up from your phone, trying to find Matt through the sea of people. You couldn't find him, so you got up and pushed your way up to the bar.

Your stomach sunk when you saw Bucky and Matt standing by each other. Matt looked considerably small compared to Bucky. He was at least 5 inches shorter than him, and Bucky was right. His arms were twigs. And you could basically see Bucky's muscles ripple underneath his tight shirt.

"I thought you were gonna get us drinks?" You asked, placing a hand on Matt's shoulder.

"You never told you and him were friends with benefits." Matt said flatly. Your stomach sunk further, hand dropping to your side.

"I-"

"What the fuck, Y/N! You couldn't have bothered to tell me that? This whole party was a fuckin' trap!"

"Matt-"

"No. This is done, we're done. You need to get some serious help for that fucked up head of yours." He shook his head before turning away from you, taking off towards the exit.

You were stunned, frozen in place. What the fuck just happened? It was Bucky's laughter that broke you out of the trance. Fuming, you snatched him by the bicep and drug him into one of the private rooms. Bucky could have easily made you let go of him, but he went with it. Slamming the door behind you, you locked it.

"If you wanted to fuck, we could have just went back to the compound. We don't have to do it here." He smiled darkly.

"What gives you the god damn right-" You yelled, your voice shaking. No, your entire body was shaking with anger. "How could you do that?!" You could barely piece a sentence together.

"He wasn't right for you." He shrugged.

"And you were right for me?" You laughed bitterly. "I told you how I felt, Bucky. But you told me the only thing I was good for was sex. I got over it, why can’t you?"

"You are clearly not over it. Or else you wouldn't be dressed in that little black dress I love."

For the second time tonight, you breath got stuck in your throat. Bucky inched closer to you.

"And you wouldn't have worn that lipstick either. It always looked so good smudged all over your face."

He had you backed up against the wall now.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were jealous." You whispered.

He leaned forward, his hot breath wafting over your neck. You could smell the whiskey coming off him. "Do you think of me when he's fucking you?" He repeated, his voice husky.

A pathetic whimper fell off your lips and he chuckled. "Did he even make you cum?"

Your core was on fire. You squeezed your legs together, trying to release some of the pressure, but it didn't work. Not being able to take it anymore, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him towards you. Crashing your lips onto his, his hands instantly grabbed the back of your neck, his metal fingers intertwining with your loose hair. Bucky's body was pressed so tightly to yours that you could already feel his erection through his pants. He was so hard that it must have been painful.

He pulled away from you, panting. You let go of his collar and your hands dipped past his waistline. Your slender fingers wrapped around the base of his cock, squeezing him gently.

"Fuck." He purred. "Haven't had my hands on you in forever, little girl."

"I hate you." You hissed. He yanked on your hair to make you look up at him.

"No you don't."

Bucky shoved his knee in between your legs, forcing your knees apart. His flesh hand lifted up your dress to your hips and disappeared between your thighs. Pushing your panties to the side, his fingers swiped across your labia, an erotic moan escaped from your mouth. Bucky smirked as he easily found your sensitive bud, rubbing it softly.

"See," He moaned, your hand moving up down on his shaft. "If you hated me you wouldn't be dripping."

A blush crept across your cheeks, realizing how wet you actually wear. You could feel your juices seeping down you thighs, making them sticky. Suddenly, his index finger prodded into your tight hole, burying it inside of your slick walls. You lurched forward, your head landing on his shoulder as you let out a high pitched moan.

"Fuck, Bucky!" You cried, his finger quickening its pace.

He only had one inside of you, but it was so thick and rough that you could feel your first orgasm approaching. You let go of his cock, bringing your hand out to wrap your arms around his neck, clinging onto him for dear life.

His thumb started to lazily swirl around your clit. You stood on your tiptoes, your mouth attacking his neck. As you sucked and nibbled on it, you knew you were going to leave a mark.

Then Bucky's finger nudged against that special spot deep inside you, making you gasp. He did it again, loving the little noises you were making. You were on the cusp of cumming all over his hand when he suddenly pulled out of you.

You whined against his neck, the noise echoing around the room. Bucky hummed, sticking his finger in his mouth. His tongue swirled around his mouth, licking it clean.

"You better be quiet, doll." He laughed. "Or someone might hear us." Both of Bucky's hands came around to your backside, and he hooked this thumbs around the waistline of your panties, pulling them off of you. You watched through hazy eyes as he brought them to his face, inhaling your scent. "Always so sweet." Bucky stuck them in his back pocket, his hands returning to your ass. "Jump." He growled in your ear.

Your legs wrapped around his waste, hissing as you pulsating heat rubbed against Buckys hard cock. His lips connected with yours as he kissed you roughly, almost knocking the breath out of you. You tongue slotted past his lips, tasting yourself in his mouth. He walked backwards, landing on the small couch that was in the room.

Bucky sat down, bring you down on top of him. You pulled away, resting your forehead on his as your hands fumbled with his belt and zipper. You finally got them undone and you pulled his pants and boxers down. His cock sprang free, smacking him in the stomach.

You slowly dragged yourself along his painfully red shaft, moaning together at the feeling. Hands tangled in his hair as you lifted you hips up, aligning yourself with him. You hissed through your teeth as you sunk down on him, his dick splitting you in half.

"Shit." Bucky moaned, the grip on your hips tightening. There would definitely be bruises there tomorrow. His hips bucked up into you as you settled back down in his lap, him now full sheathed inside you. "Think you got tighter without my cock splitting you open everyday." He panted.

The pain slowly ebbed into pleasure and you rocked forward, placing your hands on his shoulders. You shoved yourself back down on him, strangling a cry. Your worked yourself on him slowly, incoherent moans slipping from your trembling lips. Your juices seeped out of you, pooling around his balls. The sounds of moaning and skin slapping together filled the otherwise quiet room.

"Are you gonna make yourself cum on my cock, little girl?” Bucky grunted, trying not to loose his shit at your agonizing slow pace. You nodded, muttering a 'yes'. "That's my good girl, always works my cock so good." Bucky tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "Look at me when you cum." He ordered. The tightening in your lower abdomen suddenly sprang free at his words, your walls spasming around him.

"Oh, my god! Oh, my goddd!" You screamed, your ears ringing, and your vision was dotted with little black spots. Buckys hand snapped up to your mouth, and you sobbed into it. You felt tears slipping out of the corner of your eyes as you continued to cum around him. And your eyes never left his. His eyes were no longer full of rage, but full of something else you couldn't quiet put your finger on.

As you came down from your high, Bucky flipped you over, the back of your head hitting the arm rest. Your legs wrapped around his waist again and his hips snapped up to meet yours.

"This pussy," Bucky groaned, pushing faster into you. "Is mine."

"Yours!" You echoed. "Your pussy, yours!" You sobbed.

He laughed and bent down, pressing a wet kiss on your forehead. "Such a good girl." He purred.

Bucky didn't give you much time to recovery from your first orgasm as your second one rapidly built up. He no longer bothered keep you quiet, he wanted people to hear. He wanted everyone to know who it was that was making you feel this good.

"Bucky! Oh fuck, Bucky!" You chanted. "You feel so good, your cock feels so good!" Any self control you had was gone. You wanted him to feed your most primal urges in the nastiest of ways.

"Mhmm, gonna make me cum." Bucky moaned, his thrusts becoming sloppy and less precise. "Your little pussy is so tight."

"I want it." You whined. "Please, baby."

Bucky grunted, your name falling over his lips as his seed plastered the inside of your walls. The feeling of him cumming inside you tipped you over the edge, clenching down on his oversensitive cock.

"Fuck!" He cried, burying his head into the crook of your neck. Your entire body shook underneath him, that final orgasm completely ruining you.

He pulled out of you after your breathing slowed. You blinked up at him, eyes bleary. He chuckled and kissed the top of your head.

"I missed you." He muttered as he pulled his pants back up.

You sat up readjusting to readjust your dress, pulling it back down so it covered your now bruised ass. Standing up, you walked to the little mirror that was hung on the wall, attempting to fix your makeup.

"Y/N?"

"Come to my place tonight." You whispered, not looking at him. "Let me show you how much I missed you." You opened the door to leave, but you hesitated. Turning your head back towards him, you winked.

"Oh, and keep the panties."

pls lmk if you want to be added to my tag list!

[buckyownsmylife]

digging myself deeper - Steve Rogers/Reader/Bucky Barnes smut

The one where you agree to step it up a notch.

A/N: originally intended as a part ii to this fic (Graveyard). There will be one last part that comes directly from @navegandoaciegas​ idea pitch in the original one. I hope you guys like this as well!

Warnings: cuckold!Steve, emotional and physical infidelity question mark intended, smut, dirty talk, steve still doesn’t get any

Every mission came with its own terrors and hardships, I was used to it by now. No matter how tired they made me, I was always able to push through, even if it was becoming increasingly more difficult with each call to attack. And ever since I began dating Y/N, the entire situation just became lousier and lousier.

I hated leaving her at the tower. I hated being apart from her in general. I knew she was at what was probably the safest place on Earth, but I couldn’t help but worry, all the damn time. It definitely only added another layer of stress to the job, and I found myself thinking about retiring and moving us to a cabin in the middle of nowhere more often than not.

So the only thing in my mind, whenever I dragged myself home, was to find her and kiss her, relish in her sweet, familiar perfume until it was imprinted in my mind again. That was my plan as I pushed open the front door to our shared space, only to be greeted by the sounds of intense fucking.

… What on Earth?

Realization hit me all of a sudden, making me drop the duffel that I held on the floor. Still, the litany of moans, wetness, and skin slapping skin was so freaking loud that it went unnoticed by the two main actors, and I managed to tiptoe closer and closer to where the stage had been set.

The kitchen.

Bucky had my girlfriend sprawled on top of one of the counters, and she held onto his shoulders for dear life as he brutally pistoned inside of her. “You want this? You want me?” All she could do was mewl as he kept fucking her, almost completely dressed while she stood completely bare on top of the cold marble. The soft tissue of her dress rested abandoned in the middle of the kitchen, and I found myself salivating at the sight, already hard cock throbbing as I imagined how he finally got her to accept to be fucked without my certain presence.

It made that familiar mix of jealousy and arousal burn intensely on the pit of my stomach, lighting the spark that I needed to open my own pants and reach for my member. “You’re not gonna answer me, doll? That’s alright. Perhaps you need to be reminded of your place.”

My guess was that Y/N knew as much as I did what Bucky's plan was to her, but it quickly became obvious as he pulled away from her, pushing her out of the counter and on the floor. 

“Open up,” he ordered, tapping her perfect lips with the head of his cock, and my good girl quickly obeyed, welcoming his thickness into her warm mouth. I had to bite my fist to suppress the groan that threatened to escape my chest as I imagined how my best friend must be feeling right now.

God, I wanted to be in his shoes, but I also wouldn’t miss this show for the world.

“Until Steve gets back from his mission, you’re mine and mine only, baby girl. And you’ll do whatever I ask of you, huh?” I could see Y/N melting as she kept on slurping his cock, undoubtedly getting a good taste of her own juices, too. She leaned onto the hand that Bucky used to caress her cheek, the flesh one, before he used it to gather her hair and speed up her movements.

“Do you remember now, Y/N? How your body reacts to me and only to me? Think about it while you’re choking on my member.” To add to the torture, besides holding her head down against his navel, his metal hand curled around her throat, squeezing only enough so he could feel himself there.

The sight had my own mouth watering, and I held onto the wall to keep myself up while my other hand was otherwise occupied with relieving me of this hurtful erection. Seeing my girlfriend so easily submit to my best friend was thrilling, electrifying. I could only hope it felt as satisfying to her as to me.

“Come here,” Bucky at last relented, pulling her up by his grip on her hair, and immediately enveloping her in a breathtaking kiss that made my heart clench at the same time my dick throbbed in my fist. “You love it when I’m rough with you, huh?” But the way he asked was so soft, so full of emotion that it made me stop fucking myself in shock. 

I watched as he twirled her around and pushed her down against the kitchen table, both hands slowly caressing the back of the woman I loved. “You know I hate punishing you, doll. Why do you keep forcing my hand?”

To my absolute horror, Y/N simply giggled, looking over her shoulder to meet his gaze. “I like it when you’re rough.” 

… I’d never witnessed Bucky performing anything that could be considered “punishment” with her before, much less heard him acknowledge it. Could it be… Perhaps they knew I was here. Making it seem like they’ve done this before without me to watch over them did make it even more realistic, after all.

But normally, by now, her eyes would have drifted off, looking for me. And so far, nothing in either of their demeanors let on that they even remembered the rest of the world existed beyond the desire they clearly felt for each other.

Bucky’s thrusts were rough, but somehow sweet at the same time. He was fucking her nice and deep, just the way that I did, and I was transfixed, watching her thrust back to welcome him inside of her. 

They shared another kiss, Bucky pulling her so her head would rest over his shoulder, one of his hands palming a bouncing breast. “Let’s run away, baby. Before he gets back.” 

My terrifying realization came just as she did too, certainly clenching around my best friend and milking him dry as her eyes met mine where I stood over the threshold, holding a somehow still hard cock. 

“Just say when.”

[my-darling-luna]

Your Majesty Chapter 4

I try to make my stories as inclusive as possible!! Let me know if there is something that I can change/add to make things better!! I love you!!

Your Majesty Masterlist

Summary- It has been more than a decade since the Kingdom of Ultron lost their princess. (Y/n) was just a 17 year old that didn’t know much about her past. Realizations happen and lives are crossed. How will (Y/n) handle the new pressure?

Stucky x reader

-

“(Y/n) this is King T’Challa.” Tony motioned his daughter to move closer to the king. She curtsied before speaking to him.

“It’s great to finally meet you.” She watched as he bowed to her.

“I can say the same about you. I’ve heard a lot about you in the past few weeks.” (Y/n) blushed out of nervousness and looked out the corner of her eye for some moral support, but she found nothing. Her father probably went to go mingle while leaving (Y/n) alone with a person she barely knew.

“Yes well I’ll admit that it has been a crazy week.” She laughed under her breath. King T’Challa smiled kindly.

“I bet-” he was cut off by a woman whispering in his ear. His eyes never strayed from (Y/n), however, his mind clearly did as he listened intently, “thank you, Nakia. I’m sorry (Y/n), I’d love to talk to you later, but I must attend to something.”

“It’s no issue, it was great meeting you.” He nodded before turning around and following Nakia out of the ballroom. (Y/n) stood quietly off to the side while fiddling with her thumbs (a nervous habit that her teacher has tried to get out of her because it ‘doesn’t look royal’, but has so far failed). Huffing, she turned on her heel and walked to the other side of the ballroom and slipped out a side door that was only for the servants to exit and enter. It led to the garden, a fact that she learned the first day of her being in this huge castle. Walking down the corridor, she opened the outside door and began to wander the fresh smelling flowers.

(Y/n)’s fingers ruffled the petals of a tiger lily before moving onto the white roses. “You could get killed being out here.” She turned around quickly to see two men standing on the edge of the flower beds.

“You say it like it’s something to be afraid of.” (Y/n) responded to the man with brown hair and blue eyes. Both of them quirked their eye brows in a similar way.

“And you’re not?” The blonde haired man asked.

(Y/n) shook her head. “There is nothing I feel like I should be afraid of. No pain, physical or mental? Seems as though it would be a good deal.” The first man shrugged before moving closer to (Y/n). 

“It’s great to meet you, princess.” He took (Y/n)’s hand in his and kissed the back of it. “My name is Bucky.” (Y/n) smiled queasily before pulling away and tucking her hand in the grasp of her other. 

“It’s great to meet you too. You’re the Duke of-” She was cut off by the blonde man which left a bad taste in her mouth. She hated being cut off, especially by someone that she just met.

“Brooklyn, and I am Steve, the King.” He bowed to the girl in front of him and his smile fell at the small nod she gave to him. 

“Pleasure.” Her voice had a hint of distaste to it. “I must be going. It was wonderful to meet you both.” They nodded and that was (Y/n)’s cue to leave, practically running to the door. 

“Where were you?” Tony asked, pulling (Y/n) in for a quick kiss on the forehead.

“I went for a walk, it was feeling stuffy in here.” Tony opened his mouth to scold her, but he was cut off by a booming voice. 

“Stark! It is so good to see you.” (Y/n) turned around to see another blonde haired man in front of her, but this man had longer hair than Steve and also sported a beard. (Y/n) watched with interest aimed at the man as he hugged her father. “This must be Lady (Y/n)!” He bows to her kindly before motioning to her father. “How has it been living with a man as snarky as him?” Tony shook his head before pushing the man’s hand off his shoulder.

“(Y/n) this is Thor. He’s the King of Asgard.”

“It’s great to meet you,” (Y/n) felt tired of saying the same thing over and over again to all of the Kings, Queens, and other nobles as she had been all night, “and yes, my father is quite a challenge.” She teased and Tony stuck out his tongue at her.

“I can tell.” He looked around for a second like he was assessing the room. “Would you like to dance with me?” (Y/n) nodded, excited to know more about Thor.

***

They danced for three songs all while talking and laughing about memories and stories of those back in Asgard. (Y/n) loved the stories about his younger (adopted) brother named Loki and the constant tricks and pranks that he pulled on all people.

“You will have to come meet him sometime, Lady (Y/n).” She nodded excitedly, laughing as Thor spun her out and pulled her in close.

“I would love that.” She answered, talking a bit louder than usual because of the noise of the ballroom. The music decrescendoed and clapping once again filled the ballroom. Everyone watched as the King of Ultron stepped up and began speaking.

“I thank you all for coming and celebrating the return of my first daughter,” everyone turned to face (Y/n) and clapped, making her shy away from the attention slightly, “now as the night winds down, I’d love to do some dances that trace back generations, so come dance and if you don’t want to, get out.” Laughter started up, but it was anxious as no one knew if he joking or not. The band immediately started playing an upbeat tune once Tony got off the stage. (Y/n) squealed with happiness before grabbing Thor’s hand and dragging him to the big circle that was made in the middle of the ballroom.

“I love this dance!” She grasped Thor’s hand in her right and another man’s on her left that she didn’t recognize. “This was the first dance I was taught by my teacher when I got here.” Thor’s eyes twinkled as everyone grabbed hands and began walking four steps in then four steps out.

“I was only taught this a week before I came, so forgive me if I’m rusty.” (Y/n) shook her head and laughed as everyone broke off into twos and began dancing.

“I thought you’ve been friends with my father for a long time? Why are you just now doing this dance?” He picked her up by the waist and spun her before bringing her back to solid ground.

“I’ve never been able to make a party like this before, usually my parents would come instead.” Thor flinched at his own words and (Y/n) knew not to pry anymore. (Y/n) split off again with the rest of the women and moved to the next man that they had not danced with yet.

“What a pleasure to meet you, princess. Name is Brock Rumlow.”

“Wonderful.” Her tone was flat and she was spun again into the next person’s arms.

“(Y/n).” Steve said, a smile growing on his face as he held onto her waist with his hand.

“Your majesty.” She said plainly and his smile fell.

“Look, I’m sorry for interrupting yo-” she was spun again, this time into Bucky’s arms. He held her closer than Steve, his arm going fully around her waist to pull her chest-to-chest.

“Does your friend ever not interrupt people?” Bucky laughed and shook his head. (Y/n) felt the heat in her stomach grow a tiny bit before completing disappearing.

“I can’t say I’ve known when he does. However, I know that he does it when he’s excited and he did seem jumpy to meet you.” (Y/n) looked over to Steve who was spinning a girl with blonde hair in his arms. The band slowed down and once the last of the strings stopped, everyone else followed. People clapped to the band before starting to leave in groups.

“(Y/n)?” Tony called and she turned around. “I have invited the kings and their families from neighboring to stay here for a while.” (Y/n) knew the deeper meaning in that sentence. They were staying here because of the threat that Hydra made. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” He kissed her forehead and patted the back of her head while staring straight at the two men who were standing too close to her in his opinion.

“Dad, just leave.” She jokingly pushed him away and he looked insulted before rolling his eyes. “I can bring them to their rooms.”

“They’re in the visitor’s wing.”

“I know, stop worrying.” Tony gave one more look at the two men before turning around to join Thor and T’Challa along with their families.

“Let’s go.” She nodded towards the open door before walking through and down the corridor. Bucky and Steve ran after her and waited until they caught up to begin talking.

“I really am sorry.” Steve said and (Y/n) watched as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

She shook her head. “It’s whatever...just don’t do it again please.” Steve nodded and the three took a left and then a right to end up in the visitor’s hall. “Lisa?” An older woman turned around and smiled when she saw (Y/n).

“What can I do for you, dear?” (Y/n) smiled.

“Can you tell me where Steve and Bucky are supposed to be?” Lisa nodded.

“Second and third doors to your right, miss.”

“Thank you.” The woman nodded and walked down the hallway.

“Here we are.” (Y/n) nodded towards the direction of the doors.

“Thank you.” She shook her head at Steve’s words.

“Can we see you tomorrow?” Bucky asked, holding his door open slightly.

“You don’t have any meetings with my father and the rest of the kings?” (Y/n) teased and both Steve’s and Bucky’s eyes widened.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Bucky suddenly got nervous.

“I’m not stupid, boys. So what time?”

“4:00.” Steve was the first to give up. Interesting.

“Do you both know how to ride?” They nodded. “Well how about we go riding after breakfast?” The two nodded again. “Great. Good night.” She began walking off.

“Wait,” Bucky yelled, “shouldn’t we be walking you back?”

“I’ve never been one for the traditions.” (Y/n) said simply and began walking once again. Two doors shut behind her.

—

Taglist- @austynparksandpizza @aikeia @simplyfandomish @baby-noodles​ @lili-ann-love​ @rebloggingeverything​ @spookyparadisesheep

[anika-ann]

Attached: Hurtful Words Pt.3

Type: (mini)-series,  Modern-college-professor AU… aka the wrong attachment AU ;)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader   Word count: 6420 + 280 (you’ll see)

Summary:  Graduation day, yay! Says no one, ever.

Except for Penny, who practically drags you to enjoy one of the most important days of your lives. You go along, just because. Hell, who knows - maybe you’ll like it in the end.

A/N: Attached: Hurtful Words is an addition that loosely followes the Attached series. You don’t necessarily need to read the mini-series as a whole, but you will understand much better.

Warnings: mentions of name calling and humiliation,swearing, some angst and lots of talking and maybe... ;)

Story masterlist

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

You had been through several phases of dealing with what happened and they came and went and came and went, one blending into another, other times changing so sharply and quickly as if you flipped a metaphorical switch.

But what stayed for the majority of the time was that you simply had no idea what should you do.

One moment, you were certain that this was a sign from above telling you to break things off with Steve, because no matter the beautiful moments you had shared, continuing the relationship was an epitome of asking for more trouble and even though you had never met a guy so close to your dream man, you wondered if it was worth it.

The next minute, you mentally yelled at yourself and called yourself a dumb ungrateful bitch, convinced that this was in fact a trial, an ordeal by fire; a test you had to pass so your relationship came out stronger from it. Your faith was rock-solid that Steve was it, because after all, he was the closest guy to your dream man that you had ever met.

Your emotions were bubbling, the order of stages of grief all messed up, a mixture of self-pity, anger, resignation, denial---shame.

And shame seemed to be a theme that stuck, because the longer you were stalling and leaving Steve’s kind supportive and pleading messages without reply, the worse you felt, ashamed to reach out now, after such a long and pointed silence. Because Steve hadn’t relented, keeping in touch and very obviously staying convinced that you two could push through; the stark contrast of your doubts and his unshakable belief was breaking both your heart and mind.

How did you even deserve him? He stood by your side, at least as much as he could… while his name was in the poem too and he was probably dealing with so much shit right now and yet he didn’t cease reaching out while you left him in a lurch and really, you must have been the worst girlfriend ever.

If you even still were a girlfriend… though Steve appeared to still consider you one and it was making you want to tear your hair out, frustrated with your own stupid overthinking ass.

Penny, bless her, was there the whole time, loyal by your side instead of drinking herself into oblivion in a celebration of her bachelor degree. She was there as well when you received a text yesterday morning, followed by longer-than-usual silence.

I know this has little chance of reaching you, but know this: say the word and I will leave you alone to the point of not going to the ceremony at all despite my presence being formally half-required. Or I’ll be there and stay away. Anything you want, anything that helps you to enjoy your special day. You deserve to celebrate such a great success and I’d hate to be the reason for you to miss out on a memory that will last a lifetime. You deserve the world, sweetheart; and if you don’t want to me to be the one who gives it to you, I’ll have to accept it. Congratulation.

The text had to be split into three separate units, but the message was clear and you had a good thorough cry at it, your shaky conviction growing firmer and earning a solid base.

He had hit a nail on the head – you had been considering not going and then definitely going and then not again, back and forth for various reasons, but mostly because of him; too excited, too hopeful and too scared to meet him.

And to think you had been once afraid of facing him after you suspected that he had read your smutty story about him… this was so much more terrifying than that and now you were biting on your lips, slightly redder due to the lipstick you had applied for the ceremony, and you glanced up to meet Penny’s narrowed eyes in the mirror.

“Don’t you bail out on me now. You promised yesterday that you’d go,” she reminded you, half-concerned, half-strict.

You sighed, knowing fully that she spoke the truth.

“I know. It’s just…”

It’s just that I haven’t replied to Steve, AGAIN, and I don’t know if he’s gonna be there. And what I am going to do if he is.

And what I’m going to do if he isn’t.

Penny charmed a supportive grin, walking to you and putting her hand on your shoulder, squeezing it in comfort until you managed to swallow your nerves for a brief second and return the smile weakly.

She squealed and pulled you to her side, a happy twinkle in her chocolate-coloured eyes.

“We did it, girl! We fucking made it to the end of bachelor studies! And we’re gonna enjoy every moment of that mummery that comes with it!”

You couldn’t but snort, amused at her exclaim, while tears burned in your eyes, a mixture of nerves, grief and happiness.

“Yeah. I guess we should.”

“That’s my girl!”

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

For all you wanted to enjoy this day with your friend since your family wouldn’t be able to make it, the first thing your eyes searched for in the crowd getting ready for the ceremony was a broad figure with blond hair, a beard and the most beautiful eyes you couldn’t but fall in love with.

Your stomach, tight from nerves and anticipation, dropped to your feet and you had to focus on keeping the tears at bay.

Steve wasn’t here.

The professors were always seated together, expected to hang out in a group – which somehow provided them safety from both students in the gowns and the few individuals who didn’t understand the dress code and arrived in jeans and sweatshirts – and you couldn’t see Steve among them. You even caught a sight of Bucky; and if Steve wasn’t with him, well, then it was clear that he decided to stay home.

Home. You had felt at home with him too, but that was over now.

What did you expect though? You ignored him for almost a week and even a guy like Steve, so amazing and understanding, would lose his patience with such inconsiderate and downright bratty attitude.

Your heart weighted a ton, heavy in your chest, pounding anxiously at the thought.

Was this how you parted ways? Just… fading away? Two lovers, two people in love – and you had realized over the past few days that Steve must have truly loved you – falling apart for the lack of communication? What a cliché.

But really, how could you have kept your hopes up that he would show up? Because it was sort of expected from the professors? Please. Because he had asked you to let him know if you didn’t want him here… and you hadn’t responded? Again? Right.

Yes, you hadn’t requested that he stayed away – then again, you hadn’t exactly begged him to come either. All that because you let yourself fall into the pit of doubts and allowed them to eat at your soul and ruin your relationship with the best man you had ever met instead of holding onto him for a dear life.

You guessed it served you right, more so now, in this very moment.

Because right now, your resolve and faith that you had been meant to be with Steve felt more solid than ever. By the laws of human nature, by its very essence, you were certain of what you wanted the moment you understood that you lost it.

A tug at your hand snapped you from your gloomy self-depreciating thoughts, your head automatically turning the direction the intrusion came from. Penny’s face came into view and she frowned as she saw you blink away tears.

“Hey! No brooding today! Today is a great win of our lives. You hear me?” she scolded you lightly, her eyes twinkling with true happiness and you gulped, nodding obediently.

“Right. Sorry. You’re right of course.”

“Damn right I am.”

You charmed a pathetic smile for her and looked at the other students in the black gowns to distract yourself from one single thought – Is it a win? Or is it the final prove of my loss?

You desperately tried to believe Pen and forced yourself to focus on the bright side, on what you were supposed to be delighted for; you finished your bachelor studies. Yay!

Yet, despite your best efforts, the ceremony and the speeches from the professors and the officials of your university, all the ‘mummery’ as Penny called it, happened in a strange haze.

Perhaps that was how everyone felt, drunk on euphoria instead? You guessed. You thought you might have smiled at some point, fuelled by a brief moment of true victory.

You stood there among other students, your eyes on the stage where Sharon Carter, a student at the top of your class, walked to the stand to give a speech.

You weren’t exactly friends with Sharon – you talked sometimes, more of a common courtesy exchanged simply because you were classmates. Still, you were mildly curious about what she had to say; she was marked a great student for a reason and she tended to have the ability to catch attention and awake something in others when she talked. An excellent choice for the speech – however, you caught yourself nervously toying with the cap of the case with your diploma, feeling fatigue of the past days catching up with you.

God, you wanted to go back to your whining and misery, not because you revelled in it, but because in the safety of your dorm room, you didn’t have to put up a front of a student excited to graduate. Not that you were any good at the pretence.

“Good morning, everyone. Mr. President, Mr. Dean, Professors… and most importantly, students. For some of us, the journey ends here – we are about to leave the not-so-safe space of the university and try our chances out there, in the open and much more dangerous world,” Carter started, a mild smile on her lips. “That said, it doesn’t mean that our school days were exactly easy.”

“Oh, you had no idea,” you mumbled under your breath, a pang in your ribcage reminding you just how harsh university space could be – not just because of the professors and their impossible tasks.

And they said high-school was the nightmare.

You noticed several people muttering under their breath too, for various reasons. For a brief moment, you felt shame – the pain others had been through could have been even worse, because illness and death had little regard for waiting for when it was more convenient. Who were you to complain?

Then again, you felt like you suffered enough too, your pain just as real as theirs.

Sharon looked around the audience and took a deep breath, her smile turning almost wistful as if she could hear your thoughts.

“While I’m up here, I would like to do something… a bit unconventional. I know this day shouldn’t be dedicated to one person and that is not what I want to do, but I have to speak up. After all, that is what history taught us – that we have to speak up. I want to talk about something everyone who stands here know – sadly, because it was perfectly wide-spread at the university.”

Whispers rose in the crowds along with your pulse skyrocketing.

Fuck. Fuck, she wouldn’t.

Right?! This was something else she was talking about, something you had missed, because you were too busy sulking.

You grabbed Penny’s hand at your side, squeezing harshly and shot her a panicked look, wordlessly pleading her to tell you this was not happening and you were just projecting, imagining this was some nightmare coming to life.

She gave you a side-eye and beckoned her chin to the stage again. Your breathing picked up, your knees feeling weak.

Oh my god, oh fucking shit this was happening.

Why the fuck Sharon wanted to open this can of worms publicly?! Did she hate you?

Granted, you weren’t paying much attention to other people’s faces, but you were hopeful that the mess was slowly dying down and people weren’t necessarily staring at you.

Now, the small circle of people around you who obviously knew where you were, glanced at you pointedly.

Hadn’t your ears been ringing and your panic rising, you might have found it weird that they were smiling at you – and not in a condescending or malicious way.

“Come on. Listen to what she has to say,” Penny whispered to your ear and you eyed her, shocked to find her smiling as well.

A terrible realization hit you like a train.

“Wait, you knew about this?” you hissed angrily, your stomach somersaulting. The actual FUCK?! “You knew she was gonna talk about that? What the hell? Why?!”

Was that why she made you come here?

“Oh honey, you have no idea what was happening these past few days, do you?  Just listen.”

Huh?! What the fuck did Penny meant by-

“I just want to remind to the people feeding bad blood that the girl I’m talking about – a smart young woman who had accepted her diploma today, one of us – she earned her degree. In fact, she probably had to work even harder, because that’s the policy, a sort of a reverse favouritism. The records of her exams are much more detailed and she was under scrutiny, she had to prove that she was nothing the self-proclaimed experts were calling her.”

As outside your body as you felt, in this surreal moment where Sharon Carter talked about your dirty laundry during your damn graduation ceremony, the word ‘whore’ still popped in your mind in angry red letters and chased tears into your eyes, the humiliation you had felt when you first spotted the poem overwhelming you again.

“She had to face every evil glare people sent her way, glares she faced for something as simple as being in love. And just so you know, I have it from a reliable source-“ she pretended to cough while saying Penny’s full name, “-her roommate, that for the long months she’s been with her favourite man, it was in fact Professor Phillips whose name she was whispering in her sleep, because we all know he’s a real hard-ass; my condolences to Professor Rogers.”

Chuckles erupted in the crowd and you felt your lips twitch involuntarily. More and more people were turning to you as their colleagues elbowed their ribs to subtly point in your direction.

You lowered your gaze, embarrassed by so much attention – a positive one, it seemed.

When the hell did that happen?

“Also, all kudos to Nelson and Murdock, who accepted our request and are now suing the hell out of the Expert One and Two, possibly Three, for defamation and possible attempted assault.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

A breathy “Wait, what?!” fell from your lips.

“They offered to do it for free, but I think that a small donation never hurt anyone. You’ll find the link on the forum dedicated to our girl. You’ll find the link to that forum in your inbox if you haven’t already.”

There was a forum dedicated to you?! To hate you or to support you? How could you… not know about that?

Probably had something to do with how you shut off the whole world… social media included. Hell, especially those.

And the people who wrote the poem and sent it to everyone on uni could actually… be sued? It was that serious? From the legal side, not yours, you were sufficiently ruined about that you had no doubt-

“Let’s clap for Nelson and Murdock as they wave at us. Thank you, gentlemen!” Sharon called out and everyone’s head turned to a pair of lawyers you couldn’t hope to see – but you really had to in the future, because what?!

However, you did reluctantly join the deafening applause the people present dedicated to them.

Seriously, what was happening?

“Why I’m saying all this… I know she’s here with us today, because she deserves it just like everyone else. I would like to invite her to stand to the very left of the crowd. Please, come on, our brave soul.”

Sharon’s eyes unmistakably found you as if she knew where you were standing the whole time – which she probably could. Because of Penny. And obviously, few others.

Penny nudged you with a grin and you gulped as several onlookers sent you encouraging smiles.

You felt your face burning with all the eyes on you, your head spinning.

Oh god, oh god-

“Go,” Penny whispered to your ear. “You’ll like it, I promise.”

I’ll like what exactly?

“Uh-huh, sure,” you mumbled but gave in, your shaky feet carrying you outside the line of chairs to your left – it was probably no coincidence that you didn’t have to cross the aisle, already standing on the left half.

Everything was planned, that you were starting to understand… but to what end?

“You see, I want her to understand that maybe two or three people in this damn school made a fuss, but there’s quite a lot of people who don’t think any less of her, of people who are in fact happy for her and Professor Rogers. Also, I want her to be easy to find for later purpose,” Sharon explained as you reluctantly approached the aforementioned spot.

For later purpose? Easy to find?

A hunch slowly crept up your back and you couldn’t decide whether you wanted it to be true or not.

What were the chances it was something else though?

Pretty big, in fact. Because you had no clue what a surreal world you had found yourself in and how, but it seemed like everything, even the most absurd thing you wouldn’t even dare to think about, came to life here.

“You know, the best thing about her story is that… it’s a story of all of us. I mean, not in such a great detail, gosh, we wish to own a heart of such fine man, but…” More laughter erupted from the crowd and you choked on the sound ripped from your throat, something between a chuckle and a sob.

Wasn’t that the truth…

”But in the end, there is no great difference. We’re standing here today, because we pushed through. We stand here today, because this is our story of love and passion – for things, for people. It’s a story of working hard and losing sleep for something that truly matters to us. It’s a story of fighting off sticks and stones and overcoming obstacles, of fighting for our future,” Sharon said ceremonially, her voice fuelled by true yet not theatrical passion. One corner of her lips rose in a sad smile as she lightly shook her head, sending her blond hair flying. “And folks, I hate to break it to you, but it ain’t always gonna be easy. But the fact that we’re here today, in these ridiculous outfits we secretly love because they are a testimony to our success… it tells me that the future might not be the worst either.”

Sharon Carter made a pregnant pause, eyes searching in the sea of faces watching her, until her gaze fell at someone near you and her lips spread in an almost cheeky smile, one you hadn’t know she was capable of.

Before you could try and see what was the cause – even if the rapid beats of your heart already seemed to know the answer – she delivered an explanation.

“Isn’t that right, Professor Rogers?”

Hushed voices and shocked exclaims reached your ears, but you couldn’t quite hear them over the pounding of your pulse in your temples.

A tall figure with broad shoulders cladded in an unfamiliar hoodie was making its way to you, the crowd parting like a sea with each step he took. Even though he did, he didn’t have to lose the hood for your benefit – you had inspected his body thoroughly on many occasions, you knew his gait, and until now, you had believed that you were aware of every hoodie he had in his closet, because you had borrowed each and every one of them at least once when staying at his place... often.

Ruffled blond hair appeared first and then everything you had eyes for was his lips, curved in a hesitant smile and the beautiful eyes, so deep you could drown in them.

Your fingertips tingled with anticipation, your chest heaving in quick shallow breaths full of anxiety.

The expression on Steve’s face was unreadable – and yet, just seeing his face after the series of unfortunate events, was enough to chase tears into your eyes and for your feet to twitch with the unstoppable urge to run to him.

It was only the fear of his reaction that prevented you from making the tinniest move.

A pointed clearing of a throat sounded through the microphone, but you couldn’t tell if it worked on people, if they turned their attention to the person on the stage or kept watching your reunion. Reunion with Steve – who naturally hogged all your attention and as he approached you, his presence assaulting nearly all of your senses.

A sight for your sore teary eyes.

The barely audible yet deafening whisper of your name.

His natural scent mixed with his cologne and the detergent he used – even standing two feet away, you would swear you could smell it, perhaps a mirage created by your wishful memories.

The ghost of his skin and hair tickled your fingers as you had been running your hands through his hair and beard and roamed his body so often that you could practically feel it even now.

Half of the things you sensed must have been a figment of your imagination; yet, they felt very real, as did the rapid staccato of your heart hammering in your ribcage, the butterflies both pleasant and unpleasant occupying your stomach.

“Now, let the lovebirds figure it out and listen up, people…”

“Hi,” he greeted you softly, a single caress of his voice encouraging the flipping of metaphorical wings in your stomach.

“Hi,” you replied automatically, unable to think about anything better to say.

What were you supposed to say?

You had already made your peace with him not coming… to a point. You forgone all hope; so now you were desperately unprepared for him showing up, all casual-looking in jeans and a hoodie and so damn gorgeous as always.

An attempt at a smile graced his lips, his hand rising to the back of his neck in his typically bashful gesture as he self-consciously looked around.

“I’m sorry. I had no idea they would make such a fuss. I just followed the instructions and showed up-“

You heart sank to your gut; your body, warming up in his presence alone as he was your personal sun, suddenly felt cold with the metaphorical bucket of icy water his words provided.

He came here because someone told him to – someone who planned this stunt, this ridiculous and utterly stupid show. What was next? Were you supposed to kiss for the audience?

The same nausea you remembered feeling when seeing the poem hit you all over again; Steve didn’t want to be here.

He wasn’t here for you, he wasn’t here because he wanted to set things right.

The pain erupting in your chest was shocking and burned like a flame fed on gasoline. You truly were over and his words-

“No, wait, that came out wrong!” he hurried, crossing the short distance between you in three long steps and you would have taken a step back, hadn’t your feet rooted into the ground. “I came… I’m here because I wanted to see you. I missed you, sweetheart.”

Tears rolled freely down your face, the endearment sending a shiver down your spine, the admission sparking a warm light within you again.

You met his gaze, your knees shaking slightly in weakness, threatening to give out as you feared what exactly you would see in his eyes.

You could melt right there when you were met with the same softness he always observed you with, a blue-green sea of wonder and love, tainted with reluctance and regret.

You pressed your lips together in effort to stop your jaw from quivering.

Regret you were more than familiar with; conflict, sorrow, self-pity, anger, resignation, shame… those were the other emotions which you guessed he could read on your face.

His brows furrowed and he closed his eyes, shaking his head.

“I’m not here to guilt trip you. Actually-“ Steve started again and finally, as his hand disappeared in the front pocket of the hoodie, you found your voice, interrupting him.

“I missed you too,” you sobbed, covering your mouth as soon as the pathetic sound left your lips.

Steve’s own lips parted in awe, his gaze somewhat lighting up with a new hearty emotion.

But once you started talking, finally, finally speaking up, the dam broke and the waterfall of words couldn’t be stopped.

“And I’m sorry, Steve, I’m so sorry for shutting you off like that, you didn’t deserve that and you were probably in a small personal hell too, I don’t even know if your job was affected and how are doing and it’s not right, I wasn’t supposed to ignore all your calls and texts, I was supposed to-“

“-reach out when you’re ready,” he finished for you, completely differently than you had intended.

It shut you up effectively.

“Look… I understand. It was tough and it still is and if you want this to be the last time we ever talk-- then it will,” he rasped, his voice breaking towards the end of the sentence, your heart squeezing painfully at both the premise and at hearing him hurting.

God, how much he must have been hurting for the past few days and now he was talking about understanding you and forgiving you for ghosting him and still offering you an out and--- Jesus fucking Christ, you were going to drown in your own tears.

And Steve reached into that damn pocket again and even if you had no idea what was there, you had a hunch it was some kind of a gift – either a parting gift or something for your graduation and you simply couldn’t--- you didn’t care for some materialistic shit right now-

You just needed to feel him again.

Taking one single step at a lightning speed, you let the diploma case fall to the ground and threw your arms around Steve’s neck, burying your face in his chest, drawing a surprised huff from him.

A box dug into your stomach, the content of the front pocket, but you didn’t give a fuck.

Not when Steve’s arms sneaked around your waist and shoulder with no hesitation, engulfing you, his nose burying into your hair—and cursing when the cap got in his way.

You chuckled madly into his hoodie, your fingers clutching the fabric when his daring lips awkwardly found a way to your temple.

You felt like you were touched by an angel, delighted laughter that shook both of your entangled bodies ripping from your throat along with a sob.

“Shit, Steve, I’m so sorry, I missed you so much, please forgive me, please, please, please-“

“No way. Nothing to forgive-“

“Like hell it isn’t-“

“It hurt, but I get it. I truly do,” he whispered frantically, his hands moving to push you away just enough to frame your damp face with his big warm palms. “You just needed time to process what happened.”

You nodded and then lowered your gaze in shame – because you were incredibly embarrassed for your further cowardice, sobbing like a stupid five-year-old. “And then I—I was scared that you wouldn’t care anymore- that it was too late-“

God, now when you said it out loud, it sounded even more pathetic, but that was now, in his arms, when everything made so much more sense-

He shook his head, causing you to look up again just in time to see the flash of hurt in his brilliant irises disappearing. With a brief smile passing his lips, he held your face more firmly in attempt to maintain eye contact.

“No. It would take a whole lot more for me to stop caring and there still would be no guarantee it would work,” he promised, gaze so intense that you couldn’t but believe him, no matter how unreal his words sounded. “You are not what they called you and you are mine, as long as you want, because I love you. Okay? I love you, because yeah, I still think you’re really freaking amazing.”

You chuckled at his choice of words, your heart bursting with their message. The heavy burden resting upon your shoulders dropped at last – and you felt as light as a feather, bound to the man staring into your eyes as if they were the last thing he wanted to see should he turn blind the next second.

He still loved you. Steve still loved you and both your heart and mind were enamoured of him, overwhelmed with his declaration.

You were not good with your words – in fact, in that moment, you were certain you forgot all the words in English language and in every other language you had ever tried to learn too.

There was only one language left to use then; the universal one that could fit thousands of words into one single second.

You let go of Steve’s hoodie, grabbed his face instead and pulled, rising to your tiptoes in hope to reach his lips with yours.

Luckily for you, he got the message before you could pathetically kiss only the patch of skin under his chin and allowed you to move him as much as you wanted.

And by Gods, did you want, finally adding the fifth sense into the play. Taste. You missed how he tasted and how his beard scratched against your sensitive skin-

Your tears spiked your kiss with salt, but neither of your cared as you pushed through the seam of his lips, letting him know what you desired before passing on the lead to him, an open-mouthed kiss full of desire, longing and raw emotions causing you to forget all about your surroundings until a low wolf-whistle sounded on your right, bringing you back to reality.

You parted involuntarily, foreheads resting against each other, warm tears still rolling down your cheeks, but now getting lost in your content smiles.

“I love you, Steve. I love you and if you love me too, then we belong together and whoever thinks otherwise can shove their opinion where the sun doesn’t shine,” you echoed his words from almost a year ago, words that stuck with you, because they were true.

You and Steve, you were the ones who mattered. These were your lives, your relationship, and you had done nothing wrong.

Because you loved each other.

Steve’s mouth caught yours for a short moment, nothing but a nip at your lips – a silent agreement followed by a warm smile, mirroring your own.

“Will you let me give you a little something now?” he whispered, sounding slightly amused as that would be the third attempt that day and the urge to slap his arm for being cheeky felt like a surge of pure life into your veins. The familiarity made your heart sing.

You glanced up at him, retreating and eyed him from head to toe in an appreciative and yet teasing matter. “Haven’t you already? How do I unwrap you, mister?”

Steve chuckled and pulled out a rectangular box, holding it out for you.

“Here. Congratulation to your bachelor degree. And know that if you don’t like it, we can always pick something else.”

You were only human – and curiosity might have killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back and the curiosity was killing you now as well. You bit down on your lip, not quite succeeding at masking your excited smile; even if you weren’t exactly deserving of a gift from Steve at the moment, which he would probably argue with, you couldn’t deny that you were touched by the gesture and who were you kidding, you did enjoy receiving a gift. And it was your graduation ceremony, you deserved to celebrate in every way imaginable.

You carefully took the box from Steve, tender fingers caressing the bow stuck on top. Hesitating only a second, enjoying the brief intoxicating anticipation, you lifted the lid.

Your breath got stuck in your throat as you revealed the necklace.

The chain, probably silver, was very delicate, carrying a simply decorated heart with a winding line in the middle, as if the heart was broken. Despite the symbolism, you couldn’t but revel at its beauty.

“Steve,” you breathed out shakily, unable to tear your gaze away from the jewellery, tears, dried at last, threatening to escape your eyes again. “This is… so beautiful. So much-“

You lifted your gaze, only to meet his twinkling eyes. “You like it?”

You nearly choked at the absurdity of the question. Liked it?

“Steve, it’s—like it? It’s breath-taking. You shouldn’t have- that’s-” Shit, this must have been so expensive- but you had seen it now and you loved it and you didn’t want to part with ever.  “-but I absolutely want to keep it now.”

Steve chuckled lightly at your antics, but you took no offence since you were being a bit greedy.

You reached out to brush the pendant with the softest of touches – and sucked a breath in fright when it fell apart, causing you to realize for the first time that the heart could be divided in two, each part having its own loop on the chain.

“Oh,” you let out in surprise, your mind racing. Now that definitely was symbolic. Not a broken heart. Two parts of one heart. “That’s… does this mean one half is for you?”

As you asked the question to make sure, you looked up to Steve’s face, only to find a blush creeping up his neck.

“Uhm… I mean-“

“That’s so cute! And cheesy. So sweet though! I guess we do fit…” you mused, a goofy smile from the swirl of emotions today a testimony of how mushy the lovely and meaningful gift turned you. Steve’s blush deepened, but a delighted smile spread on his lips, eyes soft, so you assumed he was simply happy you liked it. “And we do complete each other.”

“Oh sweetheart,” Steve whispered, clasping your free hand in his, caressing tenderly before bringing it to his lips and dropping a barely-there kiss on its back.

“Would you wear it?” you queried, slightly nervous. “One of the halves I mean.”

It might have been his idea, but did you read him correctly?

“If that’s what you want. Give me your half and keep mine,” he offered, one corner of his lips higher in a cheeky and yet tender smile.

“You got a deal, Stevie. Thank you.”

“I’m glad you like it, sweetheart. I was going to give you a key to the apartment officially, kneel on one knee and all that-“

“WHAT?!”

He wanted to do what?!

“-to ask you if you want to move in permanently, but I understand that we’ve been through a lot, you’ve been through a lot, so while the offer stands, I don’t want you to feel pressured or-“

Oh really? Then why did he even tell you about it?

Your heart felt like beating its way out of your chest, the widest grin spreading on your lips. Staring at Steve as he was stuttering, you couldn’t decide whether he was nervous about asking, trying his luck, or was teasing you, knowing all too well what you were about to say.

Oh god, your head was spinning, again-

“Yes!” you blurted out before you could think twice, shocking the stammering mess of Steve into silence.

“Really?!” he shot back in awe, his lips left parted in genuine surprise – and his expression was pure relief.

“Yes. If you mean it – and God help you if you don’t-“ And you were serious, if he was messing with you now— he wouldn’t, right? Steve wouldn’t joke about such important topic, about your life together.

“Of course I mean it-”

You squealed, closing the box you had nearly dropped in shock and hugged Steve as tight as you could, causing him to huff for the second time that day. Oh you were never letting go of him!

The crowd you entirely forgot about cheered and you jumped away from Steve as if burned, horrified that they had been following your reconciliation and displays of love this whole time-

And then you noticed the graduation caps in the air, a tradition celebrating the success of your year. You grinned at the image, catching Steve’s gaze.

“Go on,” he encouraged you, mirroring your grin when you reached for the square cap, swinging and sending it high in the air.

A yelp escaped you as you found yourself in the air as well in a blink of an eye, nestled in Steve’s arms as he laughed madly, pure delight shining from his eyes; and love. So much love.

You barely caught the cap, not really caring for it when in the arms of your man. You dropped a kiss to his lips, earning one in return and a few more, as you couldn’t get enough for each other after such a long time apart and so much unnecessary heartbreak.

You rested your foreheads against each other, tender meetings of lips, brushes of noses-

Steve winced and hissed in pain, causing you to withdraw and frown as you studied his face.

“Sorry, just… my nose…” he mumbled, seemingly embarrassed, “...tender.”

“From…?” you questioned, absolutely baffled. Steve sighed, but just one glare from you told him that you were not letting it go. You didn’t want him in any pain – you both lived through more enough of it in the past few days.

“Bucky punched me.”

“What?!” you blurted out, shocked to the core, and you braced yourself on Steve’s shoulders, your gaze automatically flickering through the crowd to find the culprit.

Why the heck would Bucky-

“Long story, tell you later,” Steve promised with a peck to your lips, signalling that the conversation was over. For now.

You had better things to do after all. So you only smiled in agreement – you couldn’t seem to stop smiling for some reason.

Wonder what that could be? Maybe because it finally feels like today is a win?

“I’m sure you will.”

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It was the day after her own graduation when the blond was sitting on a park bench, light summer dress with cherry blossoms gently swirling around her knees, absentmindedly swiping through the apps on her phone, looking up every now and then to smile at the image of families enjoying the weather and freedom of summer.

She merely paused in her idly actions when the redhead woman she was waiting for seated herself next to her on the other end, sliding an envelope with a promised reward her way.

“As promised,” the redhead said disinterestedly, barely on a lower volume than a normal conversation would be and tugged a loose strand of her hair behind her sunglasses. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

The blond smiled softly, reaching for the envelope and subtly hid it in her purse. “Same. It was rather fun, actually.”

This time, a smile broke on the redhead’s lips as well, cocky, satisfied, but by any means false.

“Well, I heard you’re staying for your master’s. You contact Danvers if you want any more of that fun, da?”

“You better count on that, Rushman.”

“It’s Romanoff, actually,” the redhead smirked, side-eyeing the blond as she rose to her feet again, ready to go where her orders would take her. She spent one more glance at the other woman though; she had carried out her task perfectly, in a way that seem very natural. She’d make a good addition to their growing team and since Natasha was anything but unpolite… “Looking forward to working with you in the future, Carter.”

Sharon Carter felt a surge of pride and couldn’t but return the courtesy before the woman would walk away from her life for god knew how long.

“Feeling’s mutual.”

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Attached masterlist

Attached: Words Lost in Translation 

S.R.masterlist

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Thank you for reading ♥ We’re over 40k into the series, so thank you if you stuck around :-*

Lemme know your thoughts?

You might have noticed a to-be link for another addition to the Attached series called Words Lost in Translation. It’s more of an idea in my head, very little of the actual story written, but it will hopefully involve a bit jealousy… and smut. Just FYI.

Stay happy and safe!

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 16

First time reader click here

Summary/TWs: Trouble is brewing. Canon-typical violence, graphic descriptions of wounds and Clint whump. Bad, terrible, no-good medical accuracy. Aliens. Reader is an anxious genius with low self-esteem and PTSD. ✨spicy sadness✨

From now on, chapters will be posted un-beta-ed. She's taking a lil break. 💖💝✨

I liked to think I had made peace with the fact that my boys and girls had one hell of a dangerous job. Natasha, Clint, Steve and Bucky frequently left for missions and while I missed their usual bickering in the background, it wasn't like the tower's common room became absolutely quiet. The fact that they mostly did recon-only missions helped, too, as they would come home unharmed and in one piece. The worry was there but subtle - like setting the table and including silverware for the people who were gone on a mission.

Peter's patrols went less smoothly, usually. He was small and even in his spider-suit, the boy was frequently underestimated by common thugs. Apparently, they didn't know how to read the news - it was blatantly obvious the hero was enhanced. And yet somehow, Pete more often than not sported all sorts of bruises, scratches and tears.

Tony and I routinely tore out our hair over the spiderboy's carelessness. The engineer had a funny way of showing he cared for Peter. Once I got to know him better, my brain dubbed them as Irondad and Spiderson. And it wasn't weird at all, somehow, that I was basically fucking my best friend's dad. Tony never made me uncomfortable, if anything, he went to great lengths to accommodate my whims. Tony continuously found time for me, answered my dumb questions and soldiered through the shenanigans I got up to after having too much caffeine and too little sleep.

Sitting in the quiet, empty common room was unnerving. It was shortly after dinner time - the evening news skipped their usual political debate in favour of the battle that was raging downtown, the reason for my headache and wrung hands.

I missed Tony's running mouth. The aliens the team was fighting looked quite hilarious, murderous intentions aside, and I could only imagine the way Tony and Clint would mock them. Hentai rejects. Tentacle porn knock-offs. The aliens were squid-like, about half the size of a human and very, very slippery, from what I spied on the TV.

An irritated-looking Stephen had me equal parts apprehensive and drooling - one after another, he conjured up a series of small portals, teleporting the aggressive octopods only god knew where. It would have looked incredibly badass if not for the exhausted sheen of sweat I could see on his brow, even despite the camera footage being shaky and grainy.

The news footage showed Tony - Iron Man, soaring contentedly through the darkening skies and taking out the squirmy mass of tentacles with his plasma beam repulsors. Steve and Bucky and Loki appeared too, sporadically, being well-oiled murder machines. Nothing new.

Yet, I worried. The little worm of doubt was squirming full-force. I tried to ignore it, yet pacing, sitting and playing Candy Crush got me nowhere. I pestered Friday to order pizza, the team's usual post-mission order plus a large one for me - stress-eating was better than stress-popping-molly in a tower full of superheroes. It took some courage to admit to myself I'd gotten attached enough to be this much from running away from all that in a blind panic.

And it would be the best option for them, really, because they had much sensible things to worry about than me. Yet every time, my selfishness won against even the most logical arguments I presented. I hated fighting myself but it was all I did - not only I was in love with Tony, I loved him.

Even when he forgot about my existence for five days, to emerge from his workshop with a new piece of tech that revolutionised one or another or something else. I loved him when he annoyed the ever living fuck out of everybody, me included, because I knew that it was hilarious to see people getting riled up over totally trivial shit. I loved Tony Stark when he ran away from his feelings, and everybody else's, because he never managed to run far enough. Or he didn't want to. I loved him, because he was like a multilayered puzzle, complex and captivating and beautiful.

I thought a lot about it, more than people would have noticed. For someone as selfish and goal-oriented as me, Tony lived in my head rent-free most of the time. And nobody would find out if I had the choice because let's face it, I'm a short cameo in his life. I'm a fuckin' catch and even then, I can't expect to hold his attention forever. His genius is too brilliant to settle for one when he could easily have the whole damn world.

Another hour consisted of me pacing and accompanying the pizza delivery boys to the common floor. It was hilarious - they were obviously star-struck about walking the same carpet as their heroes. I could see the faint hope of meeting one of the Avengers in their eyes, their posture. All they got was me - in my sweatpants, Tony's tee and no bra. My tits got the attention they deserved, at least.

My lounging was interrupted by a golden circle noisily appearing in the middle of the room, followed by Clint abruptly falling through it with a pained moan. I froze, the pizza in my mouth turning to ash - Strange poked his head through the hole in space, finding my eyes. He looked exhausted.

"Help him, I don't have much time," He breathed and disappeared, closing the portal behind himself.

The pizza piece flew back in the box as I stumbled, jumped over the headrest, kneeling beside Clint in no time. "Bird, tell me what hurts," I demanded. Not that I had a clue what to do. I mean, I knew basic first aid and...

"My leg," He gritted out, curling in on himself. Fear flooded me, limbs turning to lead. Hawk had a good pain tolerance, I knew he could break an arm and not utter a single syllable until he thought it safe to showcase his vulnerability. "That squid motherfucker stung me, I don't know. My whole body is on fire," His speech was slurred.

I nodded, deciding to limit the touching to only the necessary actions. The leg of his pants was torn and the wound itself was shaped like a whip mark, thin and red and angry. It oozed a yellowish pus-like substance, it smelled bitter, almost like stale water and seaweed salad. I didn't know much about aliens but jellyfish stings, I could work with. A short Google check later, I had an approximate plan.

"Friday, run diagnostics." I ordered, taking a deep breath and filing away the fear, the panic and anxiety for later.

"Mr. Barton has a wound that appears to be contaminated with an unknown chemical that is causing an adverse reaction. The elevated body temperature suggests that his immune system is fighting it. I would suggest a blood test to examine the offending specimens."

A blood draw? I could do that. I definitely, absolutely, could do that.

"Bird, Clint, did you hear that?" I gently touched his shoulder only for him to recoil from my hand, muttering unintelligibly. "Pretty bird, I'm going to help you. Let me." My bedside manner needed improvement - with brain running a mile a minute, I babbled utter nonsense as Friday directed me to the needed supplies. Getting the blood was a feat on it's own - I had to physically sit on top of Clint to get but a tiny vial of the red liquid.

A few tears escaped the emotional fortress I had to build within myself. Clint was in so, so much pain - pain I was inadvertently making worse by touching him. I sprinted to Bruce's lab, feeding the sample to be analysed by Friday, tearing through the room in a hurricane. First aid kit, IV, saline, antibiotics. Restraints, too, just in case.

"Analysis complete. The contaminant appears to be acting similarly to a parasitic infection with a short life-span. Primarily feeds on copper, iron and various metals contained in the human body. Does not appear to reproduce or multiply, my algorithms cannot determine the cause of said behaviour. Calculating..." Friday's mechanical voice paused. "I have calculated the approximate duration of Mr. Barton's symptoms. Onset of critical stage in one to three hours. Complete extinction of parasitic organisms in approximately sixty hours."

"Fri, do you think I have a chance of saving Clint before he goes crazy from pain? And have you figured out what's causing it?" My brain was all over the place.

"I have the best faith in you, miss." The AI sounded almost... Comforting? "I am still running multiple diagnostics. My algorithms suggest the organisms may be attacking the nerve endings - reason unclear."

An idea struck me. A crazy, brash, absurd idea. The pathogen was alien and we didn't have antibiotics to kill it. Even if I gave Clint some sort of medicine, it could go awry really really quickly. Besides, wasn't there a medical team for this..?

"Friday, alert the medical suite."

"Request denied. Per Mr. Stark's protocols, only Sir himself and Dr. Banner are authorized to request medical assistance in case of alien pathogen contamination."

"Fuck. Fuck, that makes no fuckin' sense!" I yelled helplessly. "Okay, do you have blood matching Clint's type laying around?" I asked sarcastically. This protocol pissed me off. What was Tony scared of? That someone would steal alien germs? Too late for that, there were plenty of samples all over the sidewalks downtown.

"A-positive, blue refrigerator, top shelf." Friday's answer was curt.

My hands shook. My whole body shook. Clint was laying in fetal position right where I'd left him and the man wasn't looking better - he became paler, dark circles under his eyes, clammy sweat breaking on every exposed part of his skin. Moving him was out of the question - Clint violently recoiled from me once I tried to touch him.

Reluctantly, I dragged the dining room chairs and piled up whatever heavy things I could on top of them, praying to every god that they would hold a trained man trash around in pain. Then, came the restraints. Belts with clips unlike one could see in a movie with a psych ward. I fumbled with them, then with Clint - very slowly, but I got both of his arms fastened and the man rolled onto his back.

"Wwhat... S'appening..?" Hawk finally slurred, cracking his eyes to see my (probably) disheveled and panicked face.

"This is going to hurt, I won't lie. A lot," I rambled, setting up the tools needed for both a blood draw and a blood transfusion. "I'm not a doctor. I'm not a scientist. You have alien parasites in your blood. I'm going to get rid of em," I announced, not mentioning the fact that I had to Google all the things I was going to do to him.

"S'okay, I trust you," Clint slurred again, moving about much more weakly than before. The tips of his fingers began to turn blue and the blood vessels on his face stood out in a pink-purple web. Not good.

My finest thinking moment: laying out some tarp around the archer and putting on gloves and a mask to minimize the possibility of getting infected. I started with the wound first, carefully wiping away the yellowish goop and immediately sealing it into a biohazard container. Some alcohol around the edges, the wound began emanating a faint wisp of smoke as Clint yelled hoarsely. I didn't even react - man, aliens and their germs were fuckin' weird.

Another biohazard container traveled next to Clint's arm. I had a disposable scalpel in one hand and my courage in another - it was now or never. The vein I was cutting was a minor one, but with Clint's body in total disarray, it was an ugly fountain of pinkish-purple liquid that spurted from it. I was no doctor but blood shouldn't have looked like that.

I stared at the timer on my phone. Twenty seconds, thirty, fifty. Eighty seconds, the blood was beginning to have more of a red hue. Clint's breathing slowed, tremors subsiding by a smidgen. One hundred and eighty seconds, the stream was a healthy deep red colour. With a swift motion, I wrapped up the wound, folded his arm, tied off the blood flow higher up his arm with a spare restraint. Clint wasn't moving much anymore; my hand that periodically checked his pulse shook but dutifully did it's job. His heart was working steady.

Compared to having to drain a friend of his blood, setting up the IV with a transfusion was a walk in the park. My mind was empty of any thoughts but for the actions needed to complete the process.

The container with contaminated blood, closed, sealed and put in a plastic bag, along with the gloves and the tarp. My own exposed flesh, meticulously scrubbed with alcohol until the skin became red and raw. All the instruments, Clint's pants, my clothes - in the bag.

The archer himself was laying still, his breathing steady and calm, face no longer looking like he was one step away from the grave. After undoing the restraints, I wiped down every surface we touched with Tony's vodka - rubbing alcohol had run out and I was too emotionally drained to go downstairs and leave Clint for too long. Whenever the booze collided with a stray drop of blood, a wispy smoke emerged. Such an interesting reaction. Part of me couldn't wait to examine the phenomena together with Bruce. The other part was considering the possibility of having a panic attack in a seafood restaurant.

"Fri, keep an eye- a sensor on Clint for me, will ya? I need a shower and some pants," I denounced tiredly, padding to the communal shower. I found respite, however brief, under the steam for a few minutes. Then I found Tony's old tee and a pair of someone's sweats - I didn't care whose. Post-stress adrenaline shivers had me feeling stark naked in the middle of Alaska despite the room being a toasty, comfortable temperature according to the digital thermostat.

Now I just had to think about what to tell the team.

Propping Clint's head on a decorative pillow and covering him with a soft fleece blanket was the least I could have done for the long suffering archer. The floor was hard but I sat next to him, running a hand through his matted hair, my brain an incomprehensible mess.

✨ TAGLIST OF MY LOVELIES (OPEN) ✨

@another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby

[egcdeath]

a blip in the reader-verse

chapter 4: going once, going twice

summary: you meet an interesting character while attending a charity auction.

warnings: soft moments, angsty moments. asshole ransom, soft ransom. you’ve been warned.

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader, overarching steve rogers x reader

word count: 3.4k

author’s note: before anyone asks, i don’t really consider this cheating since it’s just steve in a different universe. but i’d skip this chapter if it won’t sit right with you! 

p.s. i had to google translate some french, please don’t hate me if you speak french and it’s awful🥺

previous chapter / series masterlist

Sounds seemed to be the first thing you noticed as you entered a new universe. This was absolutely no different.

Well, except for the fact that the first sound you noticed was the announcing of your own name.

From the moment your eyes opened, you were met with a blinding yellow light, and the urge to stand up. You glanced over at the table that you’d previously been sat at, and received raised brows from Aaliyah, who’d been sitting at the white, round table across from you, along with a hand gesture that shoo-ed you away.

You timidly walked up to the small and raised platform of a stage, and stood next to a person who vaguely resembled your old boss from your main universe.

“Alright, ladies and gents! Our final lady of the night, well, not a lady of the night, is the gorgeous Y/N L/N! Starting at $1,000, do we have any takers?”

You looked out into the ocean of round tables, and watched a decently handsome man, with dark hair and a beard raise his paddle, “1,500!” he called out.

The man received a death glare from someone else at his table, and looked up at both the stage and you to raise his own paddle. “2,500,” he responded in a bored tone.

After getting over the extreme ego boost that was being bid over, you let yourself take a good look at the second man who’d offered the cash, and,

Holy shit.

It was Steve, but it definitely wasn’t Steve. 

His hair was slightly darker, he was wearing a cream sweater and long, multicolored scarf that your Steve would never be caught dead in. He held an air of confidence and cockiness that you could see from miles away, and according to his bidding style, he was loaded.

After seeing him, you desperately wanted to find a mirror and find out if your own appearance had changed at all.

“Fine, $4,000,” the bearded man offered, glancing back and forth between you, and this alternate version of Steve.

“$5,000!” A new contestant jeered, this one a rather old man whom you could tell you wanted nothing to do with.

“Old fucking geezer,” the alternate Steve muttered. “$7,000.”

There was a gasp, and a silence throughout the audience. 

“$7,000 for Hugh, going once, going-”

“15,” the bearded man lifted his paddle once again. You glanced over to Aaliyah, whose eyeballs seemed to be bulging out of her head at this. 

“Fuck it, 30,” Hugh sighed.

The bearded man threw his hands up in defeat, and set his paddle all the way down on his table.

“45, final!” The old man called out.

“75,” Hugh glanced around the audience, a rather smug look on his face.

“Oh wow, $75,000 going once, going twice… sold to Mr. Hugh Drysdale! Miss L/N, is there something you’re not telling us about the nature of your date?” The auctioneer passed the microphone to you, and you laughed awkwardly into it.

“Nothing that I know of,” the rest of the crowd seemed to laugh with you at this, but you couldn’t help but feel the growing discomfort in your stomach. 

“Well, I’m sure the folks over at One Mission will be very happy at this sizable donation. Can we get one more cheer for Miss L/N?” You gave a friendly wave before awkwardly stepping off the stage while the people around you clapped.

You’d had a decent idea at this point of what was going on, but you couldn’t quite piece together why this Hugh character had decided to bid so high on someone he’d never even met. You sat back down at your table, and slipped your phone out of your pocket to look at yourself. Yep, same you. 

“Okay, what the hell was that?” Aaliyah asked you, a mixture of confusion and excitement present in her tone.

“Hell if I know,” you sighed, and scratched your neck nervously.

“I mean, I get it, you’re hot. But the price of a luxury vehicle for a date? You’re gonna have to let him finger you at least,” she giggled.

“Shut up,” you groaned at the thought. You were still feeling pretty confused about the fact that the Steve in this universe wasn’t actually Steve at all. You so far, you’d only really met Steves that were well… Steve. 

You internally lamented the situation, until you noticed someone plop down at the open seat at the table, causing you to turn and look at him. 

“This seat taken?” Hugh asked, and you shook your head. “Great, now it is,” he quipped.

“I’ll give you two a moment. I’m gonna go find my own socialite,” Aaliyah bantered, slipping up from her chair and following through on her comment.

“So you must really love those kids you just donated to,” you awkwardly chuckled.

“Oh hell no. Fuck those kids. I just hate losing, and I absolutely was not gonna let those douchebags win,” he looked down at his hands and played with his pinky ring in an extremely bored manner. 

“Oh, okay,” you nodded slowly. This man was a complete 180 to the type of Steve that you were used to. Your Steve was warm and caring, but this man seemed cold and apathetic. Your Steve would gladly lay his life on the line for anyone, and this man didn’t even seem to have the emotional capacity to hold the door for someone else. “So Hugh, what do you plan to do on our date?” You lifted up your glass of champagne and took a little sip.

“Call me Ransom, only the help call me Hugh. We’ll probably just go to Europe or something.”

You nearly spat out your drink at this. In fact, you felt a little carbonation in your nose. Then again, Ransom just spent ¾ of a hundred thousand on a date with you. “Jesus,” you murmured. 

“Think you can head out tomorrow?” 

----

Waking up in the bedroom of the apartment you seemed to share with Aaliyah taught you two things. One, you could apparently sleep in these universes and not wake up elsewhere, and two, the walls of your apartment were far too thin.

You glanced over at the clock on your bedside table, and noted the time. You had about an hour before you needed to be at the airport. 

You quickly threw a mixture of clothing, a phone charger, a packet of birth control, and some skincare products into a suitcase before heading out to the kitchen to grab a granola bar. You chewed half the bar before hopping into the shower, then tossing on some ugly, but comfortable travelling clothes. 

Maybe you spent a bit too long checking yourself in the mirror that morning with the newfound knowledge that you were now worth at least 75,000 dollars. Frankly, having multiple (attractive) men fight over you was the greatest boost to your pride that you’d ever been given.

Glancing down at your phone after the matter, you realized that you only had a few minutes to order an Uber to pick you up, unless you wanted to be late and miss your flight. 

----

You had your baggage checked, stumbled through TSA, and showed the screenshot of your plane ticket a boatload of times to a multitude of people before you finally reached the lounge, and found Ransom sitting on a sofa with a glass of whiskey in his hand.

“Why the hell are you dressed like that?” Ransom asked you as you approached, looking up and down at your outfit of a college sweatshirt and loose joggers.

“Because I want to be comfortable, you dick. Do rich people not like being comfortable?” You sat down beside him on the sofa, and slumped into the chair. Who knew travelling throughout the multiverse could be so tiring? “Besides, you have like seven holes in that sweater. I wouldn’t be talking about anyone else’s clothes if I gladly let moths have a four course meal on my things,” you scoffed.

That seemed to shut him up for a bit.

Eventually, your flight number was called, and you, along with the few other first class flyers piled into the plane. 

You sat down next to Ransom in a soft chair that seemed to lower back into some sort of makeshift mattress, and slipped your phone out of your pocket to send your friends a message that you were taking off.

“You excited?” You asked Ransom while he began to slip a pair of Beats onto his head. 

“Yeah, I like Nice,” he nodded, then grabbed his own phone to connect to the headphones.

“So you’ve been there before?” Ransom nodded, clearly trying to ignore you. “Do you have a plan on fun places to take me?” He shrugged.

You got the message, and huffed as you sat back in your seat. Right before takeoff, you received a message back from Aaliyah of a picture of her cat, and that was enough to bring a smile to your face. 

—— 

About 7 hours into your flight, you noticed Ransom picking out a movie to watch, and you found the idea intriguing. 

“What’cha watching?” You asked, leaning over a bit into his space. 

“Nothing,” he said stiffly, and you rolled your eyes.

“Porn?” You joked, glancing up at him to see if it landed or not. It did not. 

“You know what? You’re a lot prettier when you’re quiet.”

You slunk back into your seat at this and turned your head away from Ransom. The words really bit at you, considering that it sounded just like your Steve, and if you squinted enough, it looked like him too. But your Steve would never say something like that to you, right?

For a moment, you twisted the watch on your wrist consideringly, wondering if you should go to the next universe, where you might gain a little more respect from your partner. Yet something told you to wait it out. If this was still, in some convoluted way, Steve, he’d come around, right?

That alone gave you enough reason to stay.

---- 

You dragged your suitcase into a hotel room much too big for just two people after nearly 12 hours of an extremely awkward flight, and even more awkward cab ride to the hotel. 

After plopping your things down into the bigger bedroom of the hotel, you stretched rather dramatically in hopes of waking up some of the stiff muscles in your body. In the midst of this, Ransom came up behind you, and set a hand on your back, scaring the life out of you. 

“What the hell, Ransom! A knock or a ‘hello’ will do it next time!”

You turned to look at him, and became a bit flustered at his shirtless, short-clad figure. It was silly, because you’d seen Steve naked a million times before, and this was simply Steve in another universe. 

“You coming to the spa with me?” He smirked as you blatantly checked him out. “Okay, yeah. You’re coming with me. I’ll meet you at the front door.”

You spent around an hour at the spa with Ransom, sweating yourself out in the sauna until you were likely majorly dehydrated, soaking in the heated pool until your skin became pruny and wrinkled, and ending the night with a massage that sent you straight to sleep.

Like, deep sleep. When you became even slightly conscious, Ransom was laying you in your pillowy soft bed. As your eyes opened the slightest bit at him, he scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Pretending to sleep, how cute,” he muttered sarcastically. You’d argue with him, but you were simply too exhausted to do so. In fact, you were convinced you’d just given him a whole monologue about how travelling makes people tired, but the most that had exited your mouth was a tiny squeak. 

You watched Ransom leave the room, before your head collapsed onto your shoulder, and you fell back into a nice rest.

When you awoke, it was not on your own will.

An overly saturated light attacked your eyes from behind your eyelids, and came all at once, snapping you out of your dreamless slumber. When you glanced over at the harsh source, you noticed none other than Ransom by your window, with a hand on the drape.

“Time to wake up. It’s like, 3 PM, by the way,” he huffed before exiting your room, not even allowing you to reply. 

You groaned in annoyance, having an off handed thought about how jet lag was kicking your ass, before rolling out of bed and trying to find something nice to put on.

By the time you left your room, Ransom was standing by the door, aimlessly scrolling on his phone. “You wanna go for a walk?” 

“Sure, I guess. I’m kinda hungry though, so maybe we can stop somewhere first?” 

Ransom shrugged and gave you what seemed like the hint of a smile, and you hurried to put on your shoes before heading out. 

——

The two of you ended up on the patio of some local restaurant, your eyes skimming the menu while Ransom took sips of his complimentary water. 

What seemed to be out of nowhere, a burly man came rushing over to your table, and appeared to be approaching Ransom, as he turned his head to look at the man, then quickly looked away.

The man, who you could only assume to be the owner, clapped Ransom on the back, and in return, Ransom slumped over in embarrassment. 

You were definitely going to enjoy this.

“Où étiez-vous?, Ranny?” Where have you been?

“Occupé, Henri.” Busy, Henri. Ransom clearly had a dark red blush on his face now, and he glanced at you as if you could offer him some sort of assistance.

“Trop occupé avec la dame?” Too busy with the lady? Henri asked with a smirk.

“No!” 

“Présentez-moi à elle,” Introduce her to me. 

Ransom sighed dramatically, then sat up from hunching, “Y/N, this is Henri. He’s a family friend,” you couldn’t help but notice how pleased Henri seemed, “Henri, this is Y/N, mon rendez-vous,” My date.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” Henri extended a hand out to you and you gladly shook it. He turned back to Ransom, and continued grilling him. “Est-ce votre cavalier ou votre petite amie?” Is she your date or your girlfriend?

“Mon rendez-vous!” My date! You don’t think you’d ever seen anyone become this flustered so fast.

“Hey Henri,” you interrupted, feeling a tiny bit left out, “any way that we could order first, then you could come back here and tell me all the embarrassing stories about Ransom you can remember?”

“That sounds fun to me,” he shrugged.

——

During lunch, you’d learned more about Ransom than you ever knew you needed to know. In the midst of it all, you couldn’t help but to think about how different he was compared to your Steve. His parents were extremely wealthy (no surprise there), he went to boarding school in Nice (which explained his ability to speak French), and Ransom was a bit of an art nerd (perhaps some characteristics could transcend universes).

Surprisingly, he was starting to grow on you. Which was why you were far from opposed to his suggestion of going sight-seeing around the town. 

The first stop you took wasn’t too far from the restaurant. A quaint little gift store with tiny knicknacks lining the shelves, and a relentless, old, orange cat who did not seem to want to leave Ransom alone.

“You should pet her, Ran,” you suggested, leaning down to do so yourself.

“First of all, don’t call me that. Second of all, if you pet her once, it’ll literally never stop,” He glanced over at you from where he was standing at a set of tourist-oriented keychains.

“Are you speaking from firsthand experience?” You grinned down at the cat who was now aggressively rubbing its head against your hand.

“Yes. Luis may seem nice, but one second you’re petting his head, and the next, you’re carrying him around the store, the whole time he’s whispering in your ear for you to buy more things.”

You were a bit taken aback at this, for a second concerned that the man you’d impulsively travelled to Europe with had a few screws loose, since he was apparently hearing local cats speak to him. That’s of course, when Ransom broke into laughter. It took you a second before you laughed a bit too.

“That was so weird, man. Don’t do that again,” you lightly punched his shoulder, then went to pick up Luis who was more than happy to be transported around like an infant. 

After buying a nice mug and a postcard to give to Aaliyah once you returned home, and parting with Luis who seemed to feel a bit, you suggested hopping in a cab to visit one of the many art museums Nice had to offer. 

After a bit of bickering in the backseat, the two of you compromised on the Modern and Contemporary Art museum, and you couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit excited.

Around two hours post-arrival at the museum, you realized that, maybe modern art wasn’t exactly your thing. But it certainly was Ransom’s. He rambled on and on about different pieces that seemed completely mundane to you. Who knew that someone could talk for nearly half of an hour about a canvas painted completely one color?

You noted a shift in Ransom’s attitude towards you. It was clear that you were willing to put up with his little antics, and as the day went on, he began to let down more and more of the tough guy persona he’d had up for so long. To your Steve, at least, art was something that made him feel a bit vulnerable, and you figured that Ransom held the same sentiment. This thought made you feel vaguely homesick, and go in for a half-hug from Ransom, who gladly returned it while he shamelessly effused.

It wasn’t the same, but for you, it was good enough.

----

You very much enjoyed the rest of your day with Ransom, hopping from interesting site to interesting site with him, and sharing a multitude of fond memories that you hoped would stick with you throughout your inter-dimensional travels.

You ended the night with him on the piano bench in the lobby of your hotel. He wordlessly played a Chopin piece while you mindlessly listened. It was a rather relaxing experience, and quite the finale of your day. You had a bit of a nagging feeling that this was the finale of your time in this universe as well.

“Today was really nice,” out of nowhere, Ransom began.

You hummed in agreement, “it was.”

“I guess I shouldn’t have taken you to all my favorite places on day one, but oh well,” he half chuckled to himself, and you pulled back to look up at Ransom.

“You took me to your favorite places? That’s.. Wow. That’s really sweet,” you glanced down at the piano, then back up at Ransom. He gave you a soft smile in return.

This was the moment, right? The silence that followed that was your perfect opportunity to be kissed. Yet, Ransom wasn’t taking it. So you decided to lean forward slightly, and do it yourself. Catching onto what you were getting ready to do, Ransom moved away from you slightly, and shook his head.

“Hey, I don’t really do that,” Ransom looked down at you, and bit the inside of his lip. 

Deep down, you knew that this was just a man who looked like your man rejecting you, but the less rational side of yourself only told you one thing.

Steve was rejecting you.

He was leaving you again, he wouldn’t even kiss you. The thought of it put you somewhere between seeing red, and seeing nothing at all from the tears that were now flooding your vision.

The one thing that had once convinced you to stay, was now begging you to leave. 

You reached down to your watch, and fiddled aggressively with it. Part of you felt bad for leaving a version of yourself to deal with the awkward aftermath of what just occurred, but another part of you just wanted to get the hell away from all of the distressing emotions you were feeling. 

That part of you seemed to be stronger than anything else. You glanced down at your watch, pressed the button on the side that you were told could make you leave, and let nature take its course after feeling the soft vibrations run throughout your arm.

next chapter

[yikesharringrove]

drummer!billy fucks steve after robin drags him to billy’s band’s concert at the gay bar and he swears he hates the band until he sees billy... please :)

I’m so hot for drummers I became one. That’s TRUE.

This is some modern lovin’.

Also I have a friend in a vegan eco-punk folk band and they fucking suck.

Pansy Division is a real queercore band they are AMAZING super recommend they have a song called Fem in a Black Leather Jacket that I can SO see Billy singing to femme!Steve to be teasing one day.

Queer Bar is the name of a REAL BAR my friends and I (used to, thanks Miss Corona) go to to watch drag performers and queer punk bands.

Ayoo3

Porn Porn.

Steve didn’t go to a lot of concerts.

He didn’t do great in sweaty crowds, and the loud music would leave his ears ringing for days. But Robin would still drag him out to see her friends’ shitty bands play at shitty dive bars.

“You have to come. It’ll be fun. They’re actually, like good.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“That’s what you said about the last two bands, Rob. And they fucking sucked.”She had dragged him to some house show for her friend in a vegan eco-punk folk band which is apparently a thing that exists in this world, and they sucked. It was like someone screaming about global warming over a Bon Iver song. It made Steve want to actively go out and litter.

“What’s the genre?”

“Queercore. You can listen to them! They have an album on Spotify that’s done pretty okay. They’re called Pansy Division.” Steve gave her a cold look as he pulled them up. He listen to their three most popular songs, That’s So Gay was a pissed off track about people using the word gay as a derogatory. Fem in a Black Leather Jacket was self explanatory, and Luv Luv Luv was a more chilled out song, but the lyrics were all about how love isn’t real and “we’re all just animals at the core”. Steve was sold.

“Where are they playing.” Robin grinned at him.

“Queer Bar.” Steve groaned. Queer Bar was small. A divey place that got hot and sticky. Steve didn’t like going as he always left covered in spilled drinks, and other people’s sweat, and had hooked up with three of the bartenders and just didn’t really wanna deal with all that.

“I don’t know, Robin. You know I don’t like Queer Bar.”

“You like it just fine. You’re just a slut. You do realize that if we could only go to bars where you haven’t fucked one of the employees, we would have like, five bars to choose from.”

“Don’t slut shame me. I am a young flower, who must dance on the wind and take a dip in every pond.” Robin stared at him.

“Steve that makes no fucking sense. Just admit you’re a sloppy whore and let’s move on.”

“Fine. I’m a sloppy whore. So when is this terrible night scheduled?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Robin!”

“Dingus!”

“You couldn’t’ve given me some notice?”

“You’re getting like, thirty hours of notice right now.” She rolled her eyes. Steve always told her one of these days they were gonna fall right outta her head.

“You are a nightmare and the bane of my existence and I’ve never hated anyone as much as I hate you.” Steve deadpanned. She leaned over on the couch to smack a wet kiss to his cheek.

“And you should probably bring condoms. These guys are just your type.”

-

“So, that’s what you’re wearing?” Steve just glared at her.

“If you’re dragging me to this thing, I at least want to be comfortable.” He was wearing short denim cutoffs, ones she had cutoff for him. They were high-waisted, and he tucked a baggy Jane’s Addiction t-shirt he had stolen from his ex-boyfriend into them. He had just done a little eye shadow and smoked liner.

Robin was in a black body-con dress, her old brown leather jacket over her shoulder, but her arms were not in the sleeves. It was very fashiony of her. Steve tugged on a red bomber jacket.

They would be meeting Robin;s girlfriend, Heather, at the bar. Apparently she was friends with someone in the band.

“Let’s go, Dingus.” Robin was holding The front door to Steve’s apartment, swinging it between both hands. He pinched her side as he walked past.

They had to take a Lyft to Queer Bar, another reason it was the worst. It wasn’t in walking distance. Their driver was this quiet guy who wouldn’t stop staring at Robin, even when she loudly started talking about her girlfriend. Steve only gave him four stars, a serious deal for Steve, who would probably give five stars even if the driver fucking murdered him.

Steve had met Heather quite a few times, and he liked her. She was cute, and easy to talk to, and made Robin so happy, but she also kept talking about Billy and how he was going to come out with them later, and kept winking at Robin.

They traipsed into the bar, Steve ducking to avoid one of the bartenders he had slept with. The guy had been real clingy after and asked Steve to get breakfast while Steve was trying to get dressed and get outta there.

So, they’re in the club, and it’s about time for the band, well, it’s twenty minutes after time for the band, and Steve is tired and is nursing a vodka cranberry and has been hit on more than he wanted tonight.

But then the band is taking the stage, and Steve is ready to lose his mind at this perfect specimen taking his place behind the drums.

He had tattoos on nearly every inch of skin Steve could see, his arms, his legs, his neck. He was putting his long hair into a ponytail, a few curls escaping and settling around his face. He was laughing at something the bassist was saying to him, twirling his stick in one hand.

“Heather’s friends with the drummer. His name is Billy.” Robin was giving him a knowing look.

The band was pretty good. Played a lot of loud songs. People were slam dancing around the front, far from where Steve was standing, watching the drummer. He really fucking whacked the drums, broke about three sticks during the hour set. He was all sweaty. Would play with a big grin on his face, blue eyes crinkled, tongue between his face.

By the time they finished their set, Steve was sporting a half-chub in his shorts, was rearing to get fucked by this gorgeous drummer.

“What did you think!” Heather was beaming at him.

“Yeah, they’re okay.” Robin rolled her eyes.

“So, we’re just waiting for Billy, then we can get outta here.” Steve’s heart stopped. He had fucking forgotten they would be hanging out with this perfect Billy.

He came up behind Heather, picking her up from behind, laughing loud and beautiful.

“Stop, Billy! You smell like shit!” He rubbed his head onto her neck, making her slap at him. He released her, turning those eyes on Steve. He put out a hand.

“Billy Hargrove.” He took both of Steve’s hands in his, made him blush.

“Steve Harrington. I’m a friend of Robin’s.” Billy ran his tongue along his teeth, looking Steve up and down.

They ended up going to a club and getting hammered. Steve danced pressed against Billy, ended up laying on the bar while Billy led a few random guys in taking body shots off of Steve.  He ended up making out with Billy in a dark corner, hands roaming until

“My place is close by. You wanna get outta here?” Steve shivered as Billy rasped in his ear.

“Yeah, let’s go.” They found Robin, who slapped Steve on the ass as he left, tucked under Billy’s arm. They walked a few blocks to Billy’s place, a little apartment over a Thai restaurant. It was cozy, had posters all over the walls, and lots of plants. He had a fat little cat he introduced as my chonker, Diablo.

They made out on the couch for a while, but then Diablo started yowling at Billy, so Billy hefted Steve up, and tossed him on the bed, refilling the cat’s water. Steve wrestled out of his clothes as he could hear Billy cooing to his cat in the kitchen.

“Holy shit you’re hot.” Billy shut the door behind him, staring at Steve, spread out and naked on his bed. “Heather said you were just my type.” Billy came to the bed, crawled over Steve, settling his wight over him. Steve reached up, tugging his hair out of the ponytail.

Billy ducked to kiss him, nudging his thighs open. He leaned to dig through the night table, brought out a bottle of lube and a condom.

Tattooed fingers nudged at his hole, rubbed lube around the rim. Steve started tugging at his shirt, making Billy laugh while he had to tangle it off of himself.

“Relax, Pretty Boy.” Steve whined as Billy went back to circling his hole, so he pressed in. He pressed up to the knuckle, curling his finger. He fucked it in and out of him slowly for a while, pumping his finger in and out.

He pressed another in, curling and spreading his fingers, stretching Steve out.

Steve took hold of his wrist, angling his hand.

“Curl you fingers.” Billy smirked at him, curling his fingers. Steve jolted as they shoved into his sensitive little nerves.

“You know just what you want, don’t you?” Billy was mouthing at his chest, sucked a dark mark on his left pec. “Not afraid to ask for it, either.”

He was drilling into Steve with his fingers, fucking him roughly with his hand, bending his fingers, opening them up. Steve was gasped, his legs opening even wider. He added another finger, pouring more lube over his hand, over Steve’s hole.

“I’m ready, just fuck me.” Steve’s eyes were wide, being sure to pout just the way he knew guys liked, voice all perfect and whiny.

“You’re bossy is what you are.” Billy added another finger, making Steve cry out at the stretch. “Think you can cum on just my fingers? I think I’d like that.” He bite gently at Steve’s nipple, making him arch into his chest, pushing his hips down onto Billy’s fingers.

“I want you cock. Please, just fuck me. Please, please.” Billy grinned, resting his chin on Steve’s chest, speeding his hand up, jack hammering it into Steve. “Holy fu-uck.” Steve came all over himself, choking around a few breathy moans.

“That was hot. You’re gorgeous.” Billy pulled his fingers out gently, letting Steve catch his breath while he took off his jeans, tossing them on the floor. Steve took extra notice of the lack of any underwear.

Billy was hard, his cock flushed red against his stomach. He rolled on a condom, settling himself between Steve’s legs, spread wide.

“You ready for me?” Billy was stroking Steve’s cock, smirking as Steve whined, oversensitive. Steve modded, wiggling his hips, whimpering for Billy to fuck him.

Billy pressed himself against Steve, holding his hips down as he gentled himself in, going slowly, inch by inch.

“You’re so tight Baby.” He was pressed flush to Steve, grinding his cock deeper, making Steve choke. He pulled out, immediately setting a brutal pace, sitting on his knees, one hand holding onto Steve’s upper thing, the other gripping his hip.

Steve was fisting the sheets under his head, clawing at them to try and hold on.

Billy was gorgeous above him, hair messy and wild, skin glistening, his muscles moving so beautifully under his tattooed skin.

Steve was hard again, trailed on hand down his body to wrap his fingers around his cock, jerking to the speed of Billy’s thrusts. He was getting close again, Billy was expertly hitting that sensitive little spot inside him, was panting and muttering about how hot Steve is, was making him whine and flush and fly closer to orgasm.

It hit him like a fucking train, making him cry out, adding to the mess on his stomach, tightening around Billy.

Billy gave one final grunt, slamming into Steve, emptying inside the condom. He caught his breath, staring down at Steve, running a finger through the spunk on his stomach, pressing it into Steve’s mouth, his eyes going dark as Steve moaned around his finger, eating his cum off it.

“You’re ridiculously fucking hot.” He huffed a laugh, pulling out of Steve to ditch the condom. “Now I actually owe Heather. That sucks.”

Steve laughed, slapping Billy’s chest.

[makbarnes]

Don't win the war till I get there

Summary: Steve doesn’t get shipped off to war but Bucky does. They spend their last day together after Bucky finds Steve getting beaten up by someone from the theater. Bucky tries to find Steve a girl before he leaves because he knows Steve isn’t going to take care of himself. After Bucky leaves in the morning Steve finds a job collecting scrap metal in a red wagon and can’t help but laugh every time he picks it up. It made him think of Bucky.

As Steve’s face landed against the hard metal trash can he let out a long breath and wiped some blood from his lip. Hearing the man stomp away he felt the familiar warmth of Bucky’s hand pulling him up. He leaned against his hard chest as he caught his balance. Steve moved away from Bucky quickly before someone noticed and rolled his eyes in sadness.

“You got your orders?”

“Sergeant James Barnes, Shipping out tomorrow morning for England.” Bucky handed over his order paper and Steve’s face drooped even more. “107th?”

“Stevie, Don’t make a big deal out of it.” Bucky quickly stuffed the paper away in his pocket and wrapped his arm around Steve’s small shoulders.

“I should be going, Buck. That was my father’s platoon.”

“There is plenty of work for you to do here.”

“Yea right!” Steve moved away again as they turned a corner into the street, His cheeks blushed as he could feel Bucky’s eyes on him. Bucky hit him gently with a paper he had twirled in his free hand and laughed as Steve almost dropped it. They went up the small creaky metal stairs that led to their small high rise apartment. Steve searched his pockets for his key as Bucky quietly picked up the brick and checked their surroundings. Bucky quickly wrapped his arms around Steve’s shoulders and rested his head on his shoulder. Twirling the key in front of Steve’s eyes he kissed his cheek as Steve unlocked the door. Bucky gently moved Steve inside and closed the door.

“Ya know I kinda like you in uniform..” Steve placed his things down on the small table by the door as Bucky hung his hat up on a hook.

“I can definitely leave it on then.” Bucky moved Steve against the door and cupped his jawline in his hands. Bucky kissed Steve softly and smiled as a little whimper came from his boy. “I love that little noise.” Bucky’s lips connected with Steve’s again as his hands went up Bucky’s sides. Bucky easily lifted Steve’s legs around his own and kissed down Steve’s jawline to his collarbone.

“Buck, Can we just stay here tonight? I don’t want to go out with that dame you set me up with.”

“No can do, tiger. I know you don’t want to think like this but what if I don’t make it back? You are going to need someone to finish your fights.”

“So then find me a man.”

“No, I’m your only man. Till the end of the line.”

“Till the end of the line.” Steve’s voice was weak and Bucky carefully put him down on the couch before tossing him his inhaler from the kitchen.

“I told you to take this with you! This is why I don’t want to leave you alone. I don’t care if I can’t be with you, I just want you taken care of.” Bucky tossed a bit of Steve’s thin hair to the side before grabbing two sparkling waters from the little run down fridge. Steve rolled his eyes at his overprotective boyfriend and smiled before taking the bottle out of his hand.

“When are we meeting them?”

“Six. Plenty of time for us to end the night together.” Bucky kissed Steve’s cheek as they both looked through the paper. Planning out how they would go through the Stark Expo, Bucky's head hung down as he noticed the time. “Don’t want to be late. Come on.” Bucky helped Steve to stand before grabbing his hat.

“Bucky...wait.” Steve locked eyes with him and felt a tear growing in his eyes. “I wanna say this before our lives change forever.” Steve took in a deep breath and held Bucky’s large hands in his small ones. “I love you. Please don’t do anything stupid over there?”

“How can I. I’m leaving all the stupid here with you.” Bucky leaned down to kiss Steve feverishly and leaned him back into his strong arms. “I love you too, Punk.”

“Jerk.” Steve playfully hit Bucky’s chest before they left the apartment.

Seeing the bright lights shining from the entrance of the Stark Expo, Steve whined quietly as Bucky tapped his back. He hated meeting new girls Bucky tried to get him with. He just wanted Bucky. The two girls waved them down and he counted the change in his coat. Might as well get some peanuts if Bucky is going to drag him along the entire night. Seeing both of the girls fawn over Bucky, Steve rolled his eyes again as they dragged him along to the stage. Steve picked up his feet to catch up but they clearly were not there for him. The two girls stood side by side with one of them leaning against Bucky’s large chest. He could tell Bucky was mostly trying to support her with an arm but she kept pushing past him. Every time the girl got closer, Steve grew more jealous. He knew how handsome Bucky looked but it still didn’t make any sense why Bucky chose him. Steve blocked his thoughts in his mind as Howard Stark came onto the stage. He pushed through the two girls and offered his bag of peanuts to one. She gave him a disgusted look and his hand sunk down. Bucky had noticed and clenched his jaw at how the girl acted towards Steve. Bucky gripped his shoulder to try and build up some confidence but Steve just shook him off. As everyone watched Stark’s newest invention Steve noticed a signup area for the Army. Popping his collar, he snuck away from the small group and made his way there. Taking a few breaths at the bottom of the stairs he examined the entrance and felt his heart sink. He waited a bit before going inside and standing on a small pressure plate that only lit up half of his face and would project it onto an army picture. He stepped off before feeling someone push him to the side.

“Wanna watch where yo-” The sight of Bucky’s face made his voice stop and he relaxed.

“Come on, kinda missing the point of a double date! We’re gonna take them dancing!” Bucky cajoles.

Steve sighed as he saw the two girls waiting impatiently for Bucky over his shoulder.

“You go on ahead. I’ll catch up.”

“You really gonna do this again?” Bucky let out a deep sigh as he rubbed his forehead under the lip of his hat.

“Well it’s a fair. I’m gonna try my luck," Steve nervously stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“As who!? Steve from Ohio? Or Steve from some no name town? They are gonna catch you, or worse they will actually take you for lying on your forms. You have tried it five times now and nothing. Just give it up Stevie.”

“Look I know you don’t think I can do this Buc-”

“This isn’t a back alley I can save you from. This is war!”

“I know it’s a war! I wanna do my part!”

“Why are you so keen to fight!? There are plenty of important jobs here for you to do!”

“What do you want me to do? Collect scrap metal in my little red wagon?!”

“If it comes to that, or a factory. Making the bullets that I can use to protect your punk ass!”

“I’m not gonna just sit in a factory, Bucky. Not when everyday men are risking their lives."

“And I’m not gonna let you kill yourself!”

“Bucky! I have no right to do any less than them, that's what you don’t understand!” Steve watched as Bucky’s eyes filled with exhaustion. Fight after fight it always came down to making his father proud. He glanced back at the girls and flashed them a smile. “This isn’t about me!”

“Right…” Bucky stuffed his hands inside his pockets and leaned towards Steve. “Do you wanna get out of here?”

“Dancing? Remember?” Steve turned away from Bucky to walk into the admittance area but was stopped by Bucky’s hand on his shoulder. Steve was being pulled away by his best friend towards the two girls.

“Hey girls, I have an early mornin’ but I’m sure Steve is more than happy to take you two Dolls dancing,” Bucky moved Steve forward a bit towards them and they both stepped back. Scoffing at Bucky and Steve they both turned away and walked off leaving Steve even more beaten down than before.

Steve turned back to Bucky who had a smile plastered on his face.

“What is so great about dames shooting us down?”

“Well now, I get more time with my Stevie,” Bucky pulled Steve under his arm as they left the Expo. Steve’s face was at a full blush as they walked. Knowing full well people could be staring. He looked up to Bucky’s smiling face looking straight ahead and found a smile creeping upon his face as well. As they made their way through the streets Bucky shed his jacket and Steve couldn’t help but admire his strong muscles trying to find a way out of his constricting shirt. Steve’s breath hitched as he tried to keep silent while they walked.

“Can’t wait to get home,” Steve’s voice was quiet while they turned a corner and Bucky ducked them into a dark alleyway. Bucky pushed Steve up against the hard brick wall and delved his tongue into Steve’s mouth earning a moan from him. Steve ran his fingers through Bucky’s slicked down hair and messed it up a bit before holding the side of his throat. Bucky and Steve twisted their lips with each other each letting out breathless moans and small whines wanting more. Bucky kept an eye out for anyone near as they continued, Steve kissed his neck softly as Bucky chewed Steve’s earlobe. Feeling Steve’s frail fingers fumbling against the buttons Bucky moved his feet back to the ground and grabbed his hand tightly. As Bucky drug Steve through nameless alleys and empty streets they were finally back at the usually metal stairs. Bucky kneeled down to Steve who took the opportunity to jump onto his back as they climbed up the many flights. Bucky quickly slipped his key in the door and pushed it open. Kicking the door shut Steve’s laughter echoed in the small apartment and it made Bucky’s heart warm. Bucky kneeled down to let Steve move off of his back before pushing him against the bed. Bucky quickly pulled apart Steve’s shirt but made sure to leave his tie on as he threw the shirt off. Bucky kissed him powerfully as he hovered above Steve’s small figure.

“Wait here,” Steve nodded as Bucky moved to the corner and took off his uniform. He watched as Bucky carefully undid the buttons on his shirts and loosened the belt around his waist. As Steve’s eyes trailed down his body he could see the ever growing bulge in his pants. Steve couldn’t help but move his hand down to his begging member and grip his hand around the base. Bucky glanced over as he kicked off his shoes and saw Steve biting his lip with his hand slowly moving under the thin sheet.

“Is Daddy’s little boy already touching himself?” Bucky kept his eye contact with Steve as he unbuttoned his tight war pants and left them laying on the floor by the bed. “I believe I told you to wait..” Bucky ripped the sheet off and saw Steve’s hand slowly pumping his hard dick. Bucky’s tongue darted over his bottom lip as he kissed softly over Steve’s chest. Steve stopped his actions and pressed Bucky against him. Bucky leaned back and returned Steve’s hand to it’s starting point.

“Daddy wants to see you make yourself cum.” Bucky laid Steve’s back against his chest and reached around to gently scratch his hips. “Be a good boy and make yourself cum for me.” Steve moaned out for Bucky but he was only greeted with a soft hand pressing against his throat. Steve worked his hand up and down his hard shaft and felt Bucky’s pressing against his ass.

“P-please Buck...I need you to touch me more.” Steve’s voice whined out as he gripped his free hand back to pull Bucky as close as he could to him. Bucky’s hot breath traveled down Steve’s chest and he tried to adjust closer to him. Bucky grinded against Steve’s backside as Steve picked up the pace on his cock. Bucky licked under Steve’s ear and trailed down to his shoulder where he pressed tender kisses against his skin. Steve pushed against Bucky’s lips and rested his head in the crook of Bucky’s neck. Bucky trailed his hand down to cup Steve’s small hand in his while following his motions. Steve let out a long groan at the feeling of Bucky’s hand near his tip. Steve watched as Bucky flicked his thumb over the tip and spread Steve’s pre-cum around him. “Fuck.”

“Do you like that?”

“Shit, just like that, Daddy.”

Bucky picked up his motions letting Steve’s hand fall behind him to reach Bucky’s yearning cock. Bucky arched forward at the feeling of Steve’s hand palming him through his boxers and bit into Steve’s shoulder. Bucky twirled his thumb over Steve’s tip again and felt his dick twitch with pleasure in his hand. Steve’s hand gripped behind Bucky’s neck and moaned out for him. He watched Steve beg for him and pressed the thought in his mind. He was going to tease the shit out of Steve until he had him utterly whining for pleasure. Bucky angled Steve’s head back to kiss him powerfully and smiled as he found no resistance with his tongue. Steve moaned within the kiss as Bucky twirled his tongue around each area of Steve’s small mouth. He chewed Steve’s bottom lip and felt Steve move to straddle him.

“Mmm, Impatient little Stevie.” Bucky groaned as Steve trailed his lips down his chest and teased the bottom of Bucky’s cock with his tongue. “Someone is eager to please Daddy tonight.” Steve had no response as he took the brute of Bucky’s cock in his mouth. Bucky gripped the back of his head as Setve moved up and down at a perfect pace. He lifted one hand above his head to grip onto the metal bed frame while using the other to guide Steve’s head. “Fuck Steve!” Bucky arched his hips up and moaned out as Steve’s tongue swirled around his tip. Steve pushed Bucky’s hand off his head and took every inch of Bucky in his mouth. Bucky felt his dick hit the back of Steve’s throat and he held back his urge to cum. Steve repeated this action one more time but added a small moan, causing a vibration to surround Bucky’s cock. He watched as Steve didn’t struggle with his length and felt himself empty into Steve’s mouth. Steve smiled as he swallowed every bit of Bucky and licked up the excess.

“I love that little mouth. Ah. Fuck that felt so good. But now it’s your turn” Bucky moved Steve under him and angled his ass in the air. Kneeling down behind him and slowly licked his fingers and rubbed them against Steve’s aching hole. Bucky pumped himself a few times more to build up his erection again before slowly lining himself up to Steve. Bucky gripped the back of Steve’s neck as he carefully listened to Steve’s noises to make sure he wasn’t hurting him. When his full length was inside of Steve he reached around and started working his cock in his hand. Bucky kissed down Steve’s spine and he pushed Steve against the pillows.

“Yes! Right there, Buck,” Steve moaned.

Bucky placed a well needed spank on Steve’s cheek as he picked up the pace. Steve arched towards him and felt a small mark being sucked near his spine.

“Does my little punk like that? Hmm? The feeling of his Daddy inside of him. Taking his cock like a good fucking whore?” Steve was breathless to reply which made Bucky push harder. His hand jerked Steve’s cock faster and he could feel Steve’s orgasm growing. Bucky pushed deep into Steve and felt his hand being covered in Steve’s cum. Bucky carefully separated himself from Steve; he quickly rushed to get a towel and clean up the mess Steve made. Seeing Steve trying to catch his breath he slipped his boxers back on and helped Steve with his own.

“I didn’t hurt you right?” Bucky asks with a worried expression.

Steve shook his head no and rested his weight against Bucky. Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve as they both settled with Bucky placing soft kisses over Steve’s upper half. “God I’m gonna miss you.” Bucky pushed Steve’s smell in his mind and held back his tears. Steve was calm in Bucky’s arms and he assumed he had fallen asleep. Bucky’s heart raced as he saw the sun peaking in the windows and wiped away a few tears. He carefully got out of the bed and slipped his uniform back on. Kissed Steve lovingly he took a mental picture of him asleep before leaving for deployment.

Steve wakes up later that morning and feels empty. He thinks about what Bucky said last night and sets out to find a job here. He tries some factories but due to his asthma he can, unfortunately, only find a scrap metal collector for more than enough money. His employer supplied a red wagon to load the materials onto and Steve had to hold back his laughter every morning when he came to pick it up. Everyday as he pulled it down the streets of Brooklyn he had a bright smile on his face with Bucky’s words in his mind. He hoped a letter would be reaching him soon but didn’t hold out hope for one. Being gay could get them killed...

NEXT PART

MASTERLIST

[rebelcap]

We are not just friends — Part 10

Chris Evans x bi!latina!character (Sofia is a people of color, she's brown.)

Chris and Sofia meet when their best friends started dating, it all started at friends with loads of bumps on the road.  

Warnings: drinking, smoking, drug use (weed), assault, Chris being Steve Rogers, commitment issues, my girl Sofia kinda messy, lots of fucking (eventually) 

This is slow burn at its best, at least emotionally. 

Series masterlist

Sofía was in a meeting with Chris's publicist, his assistant, and lawyer as they all went through the contract along with the brewery lawyers.

"My client had already told me to give whatever your asking," The lawyer spoke and Chris's publicist kept eyeing her. "so, this is more a formality."

"We already discussed it, just a photoshoot. We're going with the social media route of promoting." Sofia explained and the lawyer nod a few times, she was on the last page of the contract.

Sofía looked at his publicist and the woman kept looking at her phone and then back at her, multiple times like she was trying to figure something out.

What the fuck? Sofia kept thinking and she heard Chris's voice carrying from the other side of the co conference room. He had arrived a while back but Ron and his kid were giving him a tour of the brewery that was barely getting it together. Nothing was set up but the skeleton was there and Chris was delighted.

They still haven't really seen each other, until this very moment, the first thing he did was stare at her, puppy eyes and everything and Sofia was acting like she was already over it, guess Chris wasn't the only actor in the room.

Of course, Ron started his usual little speech as they signed the contracts, even cracked the champagne at nine o'clock. The photoshoot was going to be after lunch as the crew gets the things together—Ron had really splurged on the production, he really took it to himself on how much money he was saving.

Sofía could see from the corner of her eyes as Chris was discussing something with his publicist, she kept discreetly pointing in her direction as Chris looked something on her phone. He kept shaking his head no, getting quickly irritated.

When they both turned around to look at her, she quickly looked at the other way—attention back whatever she was doing.

"Sof," Chris called her, voice soft. She looked up and he was right there with his publicist. "I need to show you something."

"What is it?" She asked and the woman asked if they could speak somewhere else. "Yeah, the office." Sofia leads the way.

"Thanks for the privacy," The woman said, and Sofia nod. "I don't care what you two are doing but I do care about this," She said showing her the paparazzi pictures of Chris and her when she arrived at the stupid party yesterday. Sofia could practically remember everything they talked on that brief moment, her full face was on display.

"Oh," Sofia explained and blinked a few times. "Well, shit,"

"And you didn't have anything to do with it?"

"Megan." Chris cut her off and the girl just rolled her eyes.

"He's insisting that you didn't but I gotta ask, I'm just trying to protect Chris's privacy."

"Megan, come on," Chris interrupted her.

"Wait. Are you asking me if I staged this?"

"Did you?"

"Sofi, I know you didn't, you don't have to answer, look Megan—

" It's okay and no, I didn't. Chris you know I would never," Sofia said looking at him, whatever what had gone down last night she would never break his trust like that, she loved and value their friendship to do something like this.

"Yes, I know," He touched her arm, looking at her apologetic. "I'm sorry I'm dragging you into this, I was sure there was no one."

" I'm glad you weren't, I just have to ask. The pictures are already out and you guys were on the street there's not much we can do." Megan explained. "For now you're the 'mystery woman' but I'm sure with time they'll find out who are you." She locks her phone and put it in her purse and looked at Chris.

"Okay, I'll deal with it when it has to deal with it, I'm cool with it." Sofia shrugged and Chris stared at her.

"This doesn't bother you?" Chris asked.

"It bothers me for you because I know you're a very private person but no worries for me, I'm pretty much obscure on social media, all I do is tweet about how much I hate Donald Trump and re-tweet dogs pics."

"She does," Chris nods and she shrugged again.

"Okay," Megan said looking down at he phone again. "Do you wanna release a statement or…?"

"I prefer not brought more attention to it, I'll leave it like this," Chris said and sigh, looking a little bit defeated.

Megan, the publicist, finished up the talk and quickly excuse herself, leaving them alone in the office.

"We should probably," Sofia said looking at her watch and tried to walk past him but of course Chris wasn't going to just let her.

"Can we talk?" He asked and she sighs.

"Chris, it's really okay,"

"No, it's not. I'm sorry I disrespect you,"

"You obviously still had things to figure out and I just don't wanna be in the middle of that. We are friends, if you need to vent with me I'm here, always." Sofia explained, leaning against the desk with her arms folded against her chest.

"Sof, I already figured it out," Chris said walking up to her. "I don't, I don't want anything with her. It's done -

" Yeah, her tongue down your throat last night didn't necessarily say 'I'm done with her',"

" Shit. I know, can we call it a lapse in judgment? " Chris made a face, he truly didn't know how to salvage this. Sofia was difficult and stubborn and he had fucked up.

"Call it whatever you want," She shrugged and sigh deeply.

"Hey," Chris said grabbing her hands as she kept looking anywhere else but him. "Hey, look at me," She did and closed her eyes.

Don't Sofia, don't don't. She kept thinking because he was so fucking attractive, she just wanted to kiss him all the time.

"I'm sorry, I'm truly sorry. I was a complete asshole and I shouldn't even try to explain, I fucked up it was my fault."

"Yeah," She pouted.

"But, I did figure it out—" Sofia was about to interrupt him again but he was quicker. "I know it didn't seem like it, but I did."

"And?"

"I wanna be with you, Sof. I don't wanna be just friends—

"Are you fucking with me?" She squints her eyes at him and scoffed." I'm going just to pretend you didn't say anything because I like my job." Sofia muttered and walked out of the office.

"Jesus Christ," Chris muttered, running his hands over his beard and sigh.

~~~~

Christofer Robert Evans was relentless, couldn't take no for an answer and Sofia was about to snap at everyone at any giving moment. Between Chris trying to make a truce, Ron losing his shit constantly, his fucking son and friends that were fucking around the brewery, and on top of everything Amanda kept blowing her phone.

"Sofia," Ron called her and she walked up to him and his son that was chatting with Chris.

"What's up?" She said walking up to her and he took her to aside.

"I'm going to send you back to Boston for a while," He said and Sofia was about to cry.

"Oh God, thank you I fucking hate this place so much." She said making a face and Ron laughed at her expression.

"I know, I can see the amount of pressure that I've been putting you into this last couple of days and you did more than deliver. You deserve a little break,"

"Oh, man. Thank you," She sighed with relief. "Everything here it's pretty much set up, the machines are getting installed this week, everything with the bank it's already resolved, permits too. Thanks to Chris's lawyers, contractors are coming at the end of the month… I mean everything it's on track, at least for a week." She explained pulling out her cellphone and Ron was amazed.

"You pulled this off in a couple of days, I'm never letting you go, that's for sure," Ron said and made a gesture. "So, he likes you." He pointed at Chris with his mouth and Sofia roll her eyes. "And I thought you were only into Chicks."

"That's why your wife loves me so much and I have a weakness for pretty white dudes, it's pretty unhealthy if you asked me." She said with a smile looking at Chris for a moment. "it's complicated right now."

"Shit I bet, guess he's really into you by doing all this pro-bono. So, I'm going to be absolutely a greedy selfish man and said to trap this one." He said pointing at his finger and Sofia let out a laugh.

"No way, man." She shook her head. "Let's focus on beer and stop talking about my non-existent love life, after crazy bitch Tiffany. I'm done,"

"Yeah, and I thought my ex-wife was crazy, you definitely got it worse," He put a hand on her shoulder and murmur. "Good rebound, uh?" He pointed at Chris.

"Ay por Dios, Ron." She rolled her eyes and he laughed, walking away toward his son and started saying their goodbyes to a Chris.

"Ah, men. Listen, just be patient with her," Ron said to Chris while they shake hands. "She seems tough but she's all fragile inside, treat her right." The men said as he put another hand on his, squeezing a little bit.

Chris got the point right away.

"Yes, sir."

~~

Tag list:

@letsdothemonstermash

@lunaticbarnes

@firstangeldragonranch

@lovepeacefood

@thegirlwithpaperheart

[itsallavengers]

Word of Mouth

“Let me speak to them.”

Natasha and Fury turned as Steve stormed in, both of their faces hardening. Nat stepped forward, a placating hand outstretched and telling him to stop, but Steve ignored her without sparing a second glance. His eyes were on the screen pulled up in the middle of the room, where two men were stood, semi-automatics in hand and ridiculous Vendetta masks perched on their faces. In between them, tied up to a chair and unconscious, was Tony. Steve gave him a visual once-over. He seemed okay. Bruised face, but nothing severe. 

“Captain,” Fury began coldly, but Steve turned to him and levelled him with such a glare that it made even the Director pause. He was going to be having serious words with the man for not informing him that they were in contact with the kidnappers later– Nat too, for that matter. But for now, he didn’t care about the other two people in the room. 

No. The only thing that mattered was right in front of him, thrown up on the holographic screen and showing his husband, alive and currently being ransomed by what Steve predicted were two young men that barely even seemed out of their teens, going by stature and build and professionalism. 

Seriously? Vendetta masks? That was just tacky. 

But tacky and unprofessional or not, they’d still managed to snatch Tony right from under all their noses, hurt him, and then demand a ransom without leaving a trace. Steve hated to admit that this wasn’t the first time it had happened, but it didn’t make it any easier. Every single occasion left him feeling sick to his stomach, and filled with a tension under his skin that would only be released when he either got Tony back safe, or got rid of whatever was hurting him. In whatever way he had to. 

Maybe that was why Fury and Natasha hadn’t informed him that the kidnappers had made contact. Luckily, JARVIS, who had been monitoring every network and recording on the planet for a glimpse of Tony, had been the one to let him know. Ever the reliable AI. 

Steve clenched his fists as he looked at the mask of the man stood one step in front of the other. Taking lead. Fine by him. “You have a name I can use?” Steve asked, voice clipped. 

“Steve, stand down, we are dealing with th–”

“Just call me The Investor,” the man said, and Steve felt like he was grinning behind the mask as he waved toward Tony, “and call this my investment.”

Steve smiled, but there was not a trace of warmth in it. He knew how he looked just then; standing to his full height of 6′4, muscles tensed and flexing against the hard lines of his uniform. He stared straight into the camera, eyes drilling into the mask through the deep furrow of his brow. He didn’t speak for a second or so, and the room was eerily silent. It furthered Steve’s belief that these people weren’t professionals, and this was at least one of their first runs. Trained ransomers never allowed there to be a power-play on the other end, which was what Steve was doing right now. They would simply fill the silence with words. These men, this organisation, whatever it was, were letting Steve stare them down. 

Big mistake 

“Okay, Investor,” Steve leaned forward on the table, keeping his face calm. Despite what Nat and Fury might think, he was good at this. He wasn’t going to mess up, not when Tony’s life was on the line. “Make your demands. Let’s hear them.”

The man cocked his head, triumphant that he had gotten Captain America to listen to him. “What we want, Rogers, is a simple transaction. We know Tony Stark has files on the Rendition Program. We know he keeps them on hardcopy somewhere. We would simply like to have them, and in return, once he has translated and decrypted them for us, we will give you back your Iron Man.”

Seemingly hearing the voices around him, Tony stirred in his chair, moaning gently as he came around. Steve watched, forcing his face to remain steady as Tony blinked in the harsh light and then glanced at what must have been a computer in which Steve’s face was showing through. Tony’s pained expression curled into a weak smile. “Good morning, sweetheart,” he mumbled, “bad morning to you two incompetent fucks. I was gonna get a manicure today. Marissa is going to be pissed–”

“Shut your mouth, bitch,” the one closest to Tony said, cuffing him across the temple and sending Tony’s head snapping sideways. Steve heard the glass table under his fingers shatter, and felt Natasha’s presence step close behind him, but he didn’t turn around or flinch at the pain. None of it was important.

Tony’s head dropped, and it didn’t come back up again. Steve watched through the grainy live feed as blood oozed down the cut that the man had put on his husband’s skin.

He turned his gaze to said man. “You shouldn’t have done that in front of me,” he said softly, shaking his head almost imperceptibly. He did not shout. He did not even change his tone to an aggressive one. But there was a promise in his voice, in the way that he held himself, and the man in question shifted just the tiniest bit. 

Nervousness. 

“Here’s the thing,” Steve continued, leaning a little further forward, “I understand you’re probably feeling rather proud of yourselves right now. Capturing Iron Man. Making demands to the Avengers. I’m sure you feel unstoppable.”

The two men looked to one another, and the front guy probably would have spoken up if Steve hadn’t cut him off with a small smile that projected a truly deadly sort of violence. It was obvious enough that some long-lost survival instinct within the two kidnappers kicked in, because Steve saw the brief flex of fingers against their guns. He just smiled harder. 

“We’ll give you the Rendition Program,” Steve said with a shrug, “we’ll meet at your rendezvous point, we’ll see to your demands. But let me just ask you this– do you think that this is the first time someone has tried to take my husband from me?” 

The front man stepped forward. “If you’re not careful, we’ll be the last, Captain.”

“No, you won’t,” Steve told them simply, “because you need him to decrypt it. You need him alive until we arrive, and when we arrive, I assure you, it will be the end of you. You’re smart kids. I assume you’re piggybacking the SHIELD network in order to send this recording. So do something clever, and look up the reports of every other attempted kidnapping or assassination of Tony Stark.” Steve gritted his teeth together, finally letting some of the anger seep into his voice. “Look up the Serum Replication Effort of HYDRA in 2012. The Sentry Guard Attempt of 2015. The Tower Siege, 2017.”

“You’re not the one calling the shots here, Captain–”

“No. I’m not. You are. And your orders just involved hurting my husband in front of me, and threatening his life. I don’t think that was your wisest choice. Do you want to know the common factor in all those previous attempts I just mentioned?” Steve grinned, all teeth, pointing a finger into his own chest. “Me. And would you like to know the survival rate of the people that I saw or knew were hurting my husband? Or can you guess?”

It was zero, in case anyone was curious. It was the only time when Steve never even thought about it. The only time he ever lacked a shred of guilt. People who touched Tony ended up dead, because Tony was not theirs to touch. And Steve would not hesitate for a single second to permanently incapacitate someone who threatened Tony’s life.

“I’m giving you one chance,” Steve told them quietly. “Take five minutes. Look up those reports. Look at what happens; and what I will do to you if I get my hands on you. Because I promise you, if Tony is damaged permanently in any way shape or form, there will not be a rock you can hide under. There won’t be a crevice you can squeeze into or a safe house you can scurry to where I will not be able to drag you from. And when I do?” Steve leaned back, turning his eyes back on Tony. “I will make you regret every single decision you ever made that led you up to this point. And that, Mr Investor, is a promise I will spend the rest of my considerable life committing to. So if you want to make your decision right now, by all means, go ahead. But I assure you, you’re signing your death warrant. I can crush steel. Your skulls will hardly be a fucking problem once I get them.” 

He stared at the two men impassively for another second, while they silently looked back through their emotionless masks. Then the lead man gave the smallest of cutting actions, and a moment later the video feed cut, leaving static in its wake. 

Steve stared up at the empty screen, hearing Fury begin to shout about misconduct and compromising the entire negotiation process. But Natasha at his other side appeared to be smiling slightly, something knowing and dangerously triumphant as she raised her eyebrow to Steve.

They’d both seen the body language on their two masked villains. They both knew that Steve had not been lying, and Tony’s kidnappers knew it too. 

Steve would rip this whole Earth apart to get to his husband, and after so many years, the criminal underworld had gotten that message too. Nowadays, if they were going to stage some sort of hostile situation, they either took both of them or neither of them, unless they were a very high profile organisation that had the resources to at least attempt to keep Steve away.

These Goddamn idiots were not HYDRA though, they weren’t AIM or SUBCON or any of the other well-funded domestic terror groups that had sprung up over the years. They were just criminals trying to catch their big break. And they’d just picked the worst target in the entire motherfucking world.

Steve sat down on one of the chairs on the conference table as calmly as he could, and he waited. 

–

Twenty minutes later, JARVIS flagged an alert.

“It appears that Sir has just been dropped off on the side of a road out in Waterford, Pennsylvania,” the AI declared, while Steve jumped to his feet immediately and began his walk toward the jet. “Setting coordinates into the Quinjet now. I suggest an immediate retrieval.”

Behind him, he could hear Clint talking confusedly.  “Did you say they just– they just dropped him? Why the hell would they back out now? They got through the hardest part!” 

Natasha grinned at Steve’s side, jogging into the jet and tying her hair up as she went. “Steve’s very scary when he wants to be,” she told Clint, “I think he may have persuaded them to try stealing the technology of a… less well protected individual.”

Steve felt their eyes on him, but he was too focused on the immediate task of getting Tony back into his arms to bother with banter. It all faded away into a vague hum, and he ran a hand back and forth over the rim of his shield absently as the jet took off. It was a comfort thing. He imagined ramming it down into the necks of Tony’s attackers briefly, but discarded it. If there was anything more than surface damage on Tony’s body, he might consider bringing the thought back again. But for now, it wasn’t important. 

The journey was faster than it would have taken for the Philly police or ambulance to arrive, so they didn’t bother to ring them up and ask for assistance. The trip was done in less than five minutes, and perhaps there were a few people who weren’t all too pleased at having a large jet land in the middle of the road and block their path, but Steve couldn’t really say he gave a damn. 

He saw Tony immediately, dumped against one of the posts at the side of the road and surrounded by a handful of people who were trying to help him. He was still cuffed, and Steve noticed the head wound still slowly oozing blood across his face as it fell to the Earth. The thoughts of killing whoever had put that there rose up to the surface again. 

He sprinted across the road, leaping over a car that didn’t stop and landing swiftly on his feet. He vaulted the metal fencing and pushed past the small crowd wordlessly, hearing Natasha’s diplomatic voice excusing his behaviour behind him. Getting to his knees in front of Tony, his fingers went instantly to the man’s neck to check the pulse. 

Slow, steady. He was simply unconscious. It didn’t seem to be too severe, but one never knew with head injuries. He looked up at the closest person; a man in his late fifties, probably. “Did you move him?” He asked, voice clipped.

The man shook his head, clearly a little shocked that he’d just seemingly gotten into the middle of some serious Avengers business. “I–ah, no. We found him like this. Didn’t wanna– in case of breaks, you know.”

Steve nodded and looked back down to Tony, his hands gently beginning an evaluation of his husband’s neck, his spine, checking everything was in place. “S’okay,” he murmured, even though Tony couldn’t hear him, “I’ve got you now.”

Seemed that those kidnappers had looked at the files after all. And they’d made the right call, it seemed. They valued their lives over their pride. 

Tony’s spine was intact, and there were no other serious injuries to contend with, so with a quick tug, Steve broke apart the cuffs on Tony’s wrists and then curled his hands underneath the smaller man, pulling him up off the floor and cradling him into his chest. He’d been gone 24 hours. Not the longest stretch by a long shot, but again, that didn’t mean this was easy. 

Steve shut his eyes and pressed his mouth softly against Tony’s temple, finally allowing something other than the razor-sharp focus on finding his husband cloud his mind. The rest of the team had silently taken on crowd control, thanking those who had stopped their cars to help and explaining the situation to the angry drivers whose passage had been blocked. Steve let it all fizzle away. There was just Tony, there, in his arms. Safe. 

And, as if to prove the statement, a second later Steve felt his husband stir slightly. Steve soothed him with his voice immediately as he rushed them back into the jet, keeping the tones low and comforting. “It’s alright,” he whispered, “I’m here, I’ve got you, it’s over. You’re on the jet. You’re safe.”

Tony’s eyes focused in on him blearily. Definitely concussed. He frowned slightly at Steve, before hissing in distress when he became aware of the pain. Steve lowered him onto the cot as the others jogged back into the jet, and his hand very delicately stroked Tony’s hair away from the man’s face. “I know it hurts, angel,” Steve told him lightly, “but we’ll get some painkillers into you, you’ll be fine.”

Tony was still looking at him. Then, suddenly, he began to giggle. Steve blinked at him, wondering how bad the concussion was. “Tony?”

“You…” Tony tried to find the words, clicking his fingers awkwardly and smiling as he shut his eyes and leaned into the hand on his face. “You made ‘em give… they gave me up without you even being in the room. You just glared at them. Glared!” Tony cackled again, even though it must have hurt, and Steve couldn’t help but smile back at his husband, leaning down to press a touching kiss to his nose. 

“It’s a very good glare,” he said with a shrug, “what did they do to you? Can you tell me now, or should it wait?”

Tony sighed and brought his hand up to his face. “Standard kidnapping fanfare,” he mumbled, wincing as he spoke, “Steve, my head hurts.”

“I know. But you’ll be okay.”

Tony nodded. “’Cuz you yelled at them, and they  decided it wasn’t worth you gettin’ mad at ‘em.” He dissolved into laughter again. “Steve, I love you. I love… lots.”

The jet engines started up again as Clint got himself into place and began to fly them home, and Steve’s whole body softened at Tony’s apparent calmness and relatively good health. Could’ve been a hell of a lot worse, Steve thought darkly, thinking back to the horrible month back in 2015. That had been… well- difficult was putting it lightly. 

But this– this was okay. These kidnappers, at the very least, had had the sense not to follow the team of 2015 down into the grave and had instead just run for their lives. Steve was glad of that. 

He sighed in relief, leaning downward until their foreheads were pressed delicately together. His hand rested gently against Tony’s cheek, and Tony’s hand came to settle around it, their fingers interlocking as they breathed one another in. Faintly, Steve heard the clink of their wedding rings, and the final nugget of tension released itself at the familiar sound. The world had righted itself. Tony was home. 

He figured those particular kidnappers probably wouldn’t try for a repeat performance.

—-

Ao3 // commission a piece // donate to my kofi!

[softspideys]

Enemies at First Sight (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

summary: when your best friends start dating, you and bucky barnes have no choice but to hang out. there’s only one problem: you hate each other

warnings: none

word count: 4.6k

pairings: bucky barnes x reader

a/n: nothing like a good ol’ fashioned enemies-to-lovers college!au am I right ladies.....this is my first time writing for bucky so I really hope y’all enjoy! :) 

“Remind me again why I agreed to do this?” you said wearily as you shut the door to your Uber and followed Sharon to the bar.

“Because you’re my best friend and you love me?” she said, shooting you a smile over her shoulder. You wrinkled your nose and she sighed. “Because I’m buying your drinks when we go out for the next two weeks?”

“That’s better.”

“Can you at least try to have some fun?” she asked, pulling open the door and allowing you to go inside first. It was only nine o’clock but the place was already packed. This was Georgetown, for God’s sake. Why was everyone in your entire school at this small, shitty bar?

You weren’t usually opposed to going out. You would just rather be doing it elsewhere. But Sharon had met some guy in her Military History class who was apparently so cute and so smart, and he’d asked her out for drinks. They were still in the early stages of getting to know one another, so he’d suggested they could each bring a friend to keep things from becoming awkward. You ended up being Sharon’s pick. Lucky you.

“All I’m saying is this guy better be, like, Leo DeCaprio in Titanic levels of good-looking,” you said, shaking your head. “Some Kappa guys were having a party and I wanted to go to it.”

“Kappa guys are gross,” Sharon said, craning her neck to see over the crowd of people. “And I’m telling you, Steve is like, Leo DeCaprio in Romeo and Juliet levels of good-looking. Seriously. Oh, there they are!”

“I wasn’t talking about Steve,” you said as she began to wave. “I meant his friend. You know, the one I’m actually going to have to hang out with tonight?”

“Oh, be quiet,” Sharon said, flipping her hand. “I’m sure you’re going to get along fine. And if not, it’s just one night. It’s not like you ever have to see each other again.”

You opened your mouth to argue further, but two boys approached you before you could get any words out. They were both tall, although that was pretty much where the similarities ended. One of them reminded you of a Ken doll: he had neatly combed blond hair, eyes the color of your favorite denim jeans, and a million megawatt smile that was born to be on infomercials, selling people ThighMasters and Snuggies at three in the morning. He was picture-perfect in a white t-shirt that stretched over a muscular chest, jeans, and a brown leather jacket.

His friend, however, was a little leaner, more casual in just a black t-shirt and jeans. His had a sharp jawline, tousled dark hair, and blue eyes, but not like the first guy’s: they were a bright, icy blue that reminded you of a frozen pond on a winter’s day. There was something darker and more elegant about him, like he should’ve been born an aristocrat instead of a college student.

“Hi there,” the blond guy said to you, flashing you that charming, All-American grin and offering his hand. “You must be Sharon’s friend.”

“Y/N,” you said, shaking it. “Nice to meet you.”

“I’m Steve,” he said before he gestured to his companion. “This is my friend Bucky.” The other boy nodded to you, a bored expression on his face.

“Bucket?” you said, scrunching your eyebrows together. The bar was loud, and it was hard to hear Steve’s low voice over the din. “That’s your name?”

He fixed you with a glare that was nothing short of hostile. “It’s Bucky,” he said. He didn’t say it loudly, but you heard him clearly that time. He didn’t elaborate, either.

“Oh,” you said, nodding slowly. “Alright.” An awkward silence followed.

“Should we get drinks?” Steve asked, clapping his hands. “First round’s on us, right, Buck?” You and Sharon gave them your orders and went to go find a table to sit at. As soon as they were out of earshot, you turned on her.

“What the fuck was that? What kind of name is Bucket?”

“It’s Bucky,” Sharon corrected, almost pleadingly. “Come on, you just met him. He can’t be that bad; he’s Steve’s best friend!”

“Easy for you to say, you’re not the one stuck with him!”

“Look, would you rather be here or at that noisy, smelly, gross Kappa house with all those creepy guys?” she challenged you.

You pretended to think for a second. “Kappa house, easily.” Sharon shot you a look as Steve and Bucky came back with your drinks, sliding into the booth across from you.

“So,” Steve said, “what are you studying?” You told him, and he nodded appreciatively. “Nice. I’m double majoring in History and Criminal Justice.”

“Cool.” In an effort to be inclusive, you asked Bucky, “What about you?”

“Foreign Language and Literature, minoring in Russian,” he said flatly. You’d never met anyone studying either of those, but Bucky had a look on his face that made it pretty clear he didn’t want to be asked any questions about it.

The night dragged on like that. After about fifteen minutes of painful group conversation, Sharon and Steve opted for leaning in closer to each other, talking and giggling in low voices. You were used to playing wingwoman for your friends and had gone on double dates before, but none of them had ever been this unfriendly. Bucky seemed to have zero interest in you, preferring to check his phone over talking to you.

“Hey,” Sharon said to you after what felt like hours. “Steve knows the bouncer at that really nice bar two blocks up. We’re going to head over there, do you wanna come?”

“Um,” you said, standing up. “No, that’s okay. I’m kinda tired, I think I’m just gonna go home.”

“Bucky will walk you,” Steve jumped in. “Right?” Bucky looked like he’d rather have his teeth pulled than do that, but he nodded anyway. You weren’t happy about it either, but forced a smile.

As Sharon hugged you good-bye, she whispered in your ear, “Thanks for being a good sport. And look: now you never have to see him again.”

You rolled your eyes. “Be safe, okay? Fill me in on everything tomorrow morning.” She nodded and you waved to Steve before following Bucky out the door.

The two of you walked in silence for a while before he said, “Look, you seem nice—”

“Gee, thanks.”

“—but I’m just not that interested in dating right now.”

“Wow, I never would’ve figured that out for myself,” you said sarcastically, shaking your head in disgust.

“Excuse me?”

“You’ve barely said two words to me all night and you look like someone just killed your grandma. I don’t see how I could’ve gotten any impression other than that you don’t like me.”

He shot you another icy glare. “It’s nothing personal. I just didn’t feel like coming out tonight.”

“So why did you?”

“Steve’s my best friend.”

“He doesn’t have other friends? Preferably nicer ones?”

“He does,” Bucky said defensively. “But he asked me to come.”

“Okay, so why you?” you asked. “Aside from your obvious charming and friendly nature, of course.”

Bucky was silent for a second. “He thought it might cheer me up,” he said at last, like he was choosing his words carefully. “I’ve been going through some . . . stuff . . . recently and I haven’t really been in the mood to see anyone.”

“Stuff?” you repeated, raising your eyebrows. “What, did you just get dumped or something?” It was a random guess, but he didn’t answer, staring at his feet as you walked. You snorted. “Oh my God, you did get dumped! And now you’re using your heartbreak as an excuse to just be a jerk. This is rich.”

“You know what?” Bucky said, stopping abruptly. “I’m thinking that you know your own way home. You don’t need me to walk you.”

“No, I certainly don’t,” you said, continuing down the sidewalk. “Thanks for nothing, Bucket.”

“It’s Bucky!” he shouted at your back. You smirked, shaking your head. Overall it had been a shitty night, but you were comforted by the fact that you would never have to see or interact with this stupid Bucky guy ever again.

Although you did have to admit he was handsome. You’d always been a sucker for blue eyes anyway. But it didn’t matter. “Not a chance,” you told yourself, chuckling a little at the absurdity of the idea. “Not a chance in hell.”

*****

Sharon practically floated through the door of your apartment the next morning; apparently she and Steve stayed out all night talking and walking through the streets of D.C. together, and they’d made plans to see each other again. One date turned into two, which turned into three, which turned into many, many more.

You were happy for her, of course. Steve seemed like a genuinely nice guy, and it was clear he was head-over-heels for Sharon (honestly, who wouldn’t be?). You didn’t mind when he stayed over at your apartment, or when she picked hanging out with him over plans with you. No, your biggest issue was still with Steve’s best friend, that asshole Bucky Barnes.

You’d learned more about him through Sharon: apparently they’d known each other since they were kids, growing up in Brooklyn together. Before he hit puberty, Steve had been (much to your amusement) small and scrawny, a favorite target among the bullies at their school. Bucky had always been the one to defend him.

Sharon also said Steve didn’t like to talk about Bucky’s ex-girlfriend, since apparently it hadn’t been the most amicable of breakups. All she’d managed to squeeze out of him was a name: Natasha Romanoff.

Some quick social media stalking revealed a couple things: she was a Pre-Law major with a minor in Russian, which was probably how the two of them had met. She used to be a ballet dancer and had spent time training in Volgograd. She’d done some modeling in Tokyo last summer. She was also, quite honestly, the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen.

“Holy shit,” you said, passing your phone to Sharon so she could scroll through Natasha’s Instagram. “Look at her hair. Do you think she dyes it?” Though the style changed throughout the photos, the color always remained a rich, dark red.

“Wow,” Sharon commented, taking a swig from the bottle of wine you were sharing. “She’s gorgeous. No wonder Bucky’s so grumpy all the time; I would be too if I got dumped by her.”

You rolled your eyes. “Being dumped by a hot girl is no excuse to be an asshole for as long as he has.” You’d been forced to hang out with Bucky several more times since your first disastrous meeting, and not much had changed between the two of you.

The next evening, you pulled up to the curb outside Bucky and Steve’s small, shitty off-campus house that they shared with three of their friends: an Aerospace & Bio-Mechanical Engineer major named Tony Stark, a Mechanical Engineering major named Sam Wilson, and an Exercise Science major named Clint Barton. You were there to get Sharon, but were surprised to see Bucky sitting on the front steps, reading a book. He glanced up at the sound of your car and made eye contact with you through the window.

Against your better judgment, you rolled it down. “Hey, Bucket.”

He scowled. “It’s Bucky. What are you doing here?”

“I’m picking up Sharon,” you said. “Why are you sitting outside?” It was nice out, but it was also ten o’clock at night. The only light he was getting was from the crappy one above him on the porch.

“Forgot my key,” he said. “Tony’s with Pepper, Sam and Clint are at the gym, and Steve and Sharon are . . . occupied.”

“Ah,” you said uncomfortably. Clearly you had some time to kill, so you cut the engine and unbuckled your seatbelt. “What are you reading?”

“Crime and Punishment,” he said. “For my Russian Lit class.”

“Dostoevsky,” you said, nodding. “Cool.”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “You know him?”

“Uh, yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

He shrugged. “Just didn’t know you were that smart, is all.”

“Oh, please,” you scoffed, feeling a fresh wave of hatred for him wash over you. “Just because I’m not, what, Pre-Law and Russian, that means I’m not smart?” You didn’t mean to say Natasha’s studies specifically; somehow they just slipped out.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “No, it’s because—wait.” He blinked. “How did you know that?”

“Know what?”

“Natasha’s majors,” he said, forcing the name out. “How’d you know that? How do you know her? Have you been stalking me or something?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you said, although your face was burning at being caught. “Sharon told me. I have no interest in you or anything you do, don’t worry.” Desperate to end the conversation, you laid on the horn, hoping Steve and Sharon would hear it and speed up the process.

“Yeah? I’m glad we’re on the same page, then,” Bucky snapped. “So do me a favor and stay out of my business.” Sharon finally came out, looking apologetic. Steve was behind her, holding the door open so Bucky could come inside. He got to his feet and stalked past him.

“You’ve been here for, like, a minute,” Sharon said as she got into the passenger seat. “How are you guys already fighting?” Steve waved half-heartedly as you drove away.

“He’s a douchebag, that’s how,” you said, ignoring the voice in the back of your head that said a handsome one, though.

*****

You met Natasha Romanoff for the first time at Bruce Banner’s birthday party. Originally, you weren’t even planning on going. Sharon and Steve had been dating for several months now, and you got along with their friend group just fine (aside from a certain blue-eyed jerk), but you didn’t really care to go to a party full of them.

That all changed when Sharon told you that Bruce, their constantly-stressed Physics major friend whom the party was for, was now dating Natasha, Bucky’s ex-girlfriend. Now you were interested. A chance to see Bucky uncomfortable? What could be better?

You were in the kitchen, fixing yourself a drink. Sharon was in the next room, cheering on Steve and Sam as they played a heated game of beer pong against Tony and their other friend Thor, a friendly and competitive frat boy type who was also Bruce’s roommate.

Suddenly, a voice behind you said, “Hey!” You turned and saw the birthday boy himself walking in, smiling at you. There was a girl standing behind him, and of course you recognized her immediately. The infamous Natasha.

“Hi,” you said, focusing on Bruce as he reached forward to hug you. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks for coming! I’m so glad you decided to show up.”

“Yeah, of course,” you said. “Wouldn’t miss it.” An awkward silence followed. You were grateful to be holding a drink, since it gave you something to do with your hands.

Bruce glanced at the girl, and then back at you. “Hey, you haven’t met Nat, have you?”

“No, I haven’t,” you said, because technically it was true. Meeting someone in person was very different from stalking their social media. “Hi, I’m Y/N. I’m Sharon’s friend.”

“Hi,” Natasha said, giving you a small half-smile. She was even more perfect up close, and you found yourself trying to picture her and Bucky together. The thought of it made you a little uncomfortable, although you weren’t sure why. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

“You said you were Sharon’s friend?” You nodded. “So you must know James.”

“James?” you repeated, racking your brain to try and think of who James could possibly be. You knew pretty much everybody in Steve’s friend group now, thanks to Sharon constantly forcing you to hang out with them. But you’d never met anyone named James. “No, I don’t think so.”

Bruce laughed, flicking Nat lightly on the arm. “What?” she said, although her half-smile grew into a bigger one as she looked at him.

You raised your eyebrows, confused. Clearly this was some inside joke you weren’t privy to. Bruce shook his head at you, still chuckling. “James—that’s Bucky’s real name.”

“Bucky’s real name is James?” you repeated in disbelief. You honestly had never thought about him having an actual name, though it obviously made sense. He was always just . . . Bucky. Just that word brought the image of him to your brain, rolling his eyes.  

“Yeah. James Buchanan Barnes.”

“Oh my God,” you said, snorting. “That’s completely ridiculous. James Buchanan wasn’t even a good president.”

“I always liked it,” Natasha said with a small shrug. “And where is he, anyway? I haven’t seen him at all since we got here.”

“He should be here somewhere,” Bruce said. “This is his house, after all.”

Now that you were thinking about him, you realized that you’d only seen Bucky once so far tonight, when you first walked in. The two of you had locked eyes across the room and scowled at each other. Bruce and Natasha had arrived not long after, and then he’d simply disappeared.

It wasn’t your problem. For God’s sake, you couldn’t stand the guy. And yet you still went looking for him. You didn’t bother asking Steve or Sharon where he was, knowing they’d just jump to conclusions, so you wandered throughout the house, peeking into random rooms and hoping you wouldn’t walk in on anyone having sex.

At last, you opened the door to the bathroom and found Bucky sitting on the edge of the bathtub, his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands. He glanced up when you walked in, but said nothing.

“Hey, Bucket.”

“It’s Bucky,” he corrected you, like always, but he sounded tired this time.

“Or maybe you prefer James?” you asked, raising your eyebrows. Looking at him, though, you privately wondered if maybe you preferred it. James Buchanan Barnes. It was too stuffy, too old-fashioned for someone like him, but at the same time . . . it fit.

His gaze snapped to you quickly, his expression unreadable. For some reason it made your stomach jump. “I guess you met Natasha,” he said. He didn’t phrase it like a question.

“What makes you say that?”

“She’s the only one aside from my mom and my grandma who calls me James,” he said. “Always said Bucky was the name of a cartoon beaver, not a real person.”

That struck you as kind of harsh, but you didn’t say so. “James is okay,” you said with a shrug. “But I think I like Bucket better.” He cracked a smile, one of the rare ones you were able to elicit from him, shaking his head. “Why are you hiding in here, anyway? You’re supposed to be out having a good time.”

“Like you care.”

“Oddly enough, I do,” you said wryly. “It’s no fun if I’m not the one making you miserable.”

Bucky snorted. He was silent for a few seconds, and then he said abruptly, “It’s just—hard to be out there, I guess. Nat and I dated for two years, but we were friends before that. I know—knew—everything about her. And now it’s . . . not like that anymore.”

“It must be weird,” you said cautiously. “To see her and Bruce together.”

“That was why she broke up with me. Did you know that?” You shook your head. “Yeah. We’ve all been friends since like, freshman year, but I guess last semester was when they got close. And then she dumped me, and next thing I knew they were dating.” He exhaled. “I never saw it coming.”

“That really sucks,” you said. “I’m sorry.” And surprisingly, you meant it.

“Yeah,” was all Bucky said. “I don’t know. I want her to be happy. I thought I made her happy. But if it’s being with Banner that does it, then . . . that’s cool, I guess. Because she’s a great person, you know?”

You nodded. Even though she’d broken Bucky’s heart, you had to respect her for breaking up with him properly instead of just cheating. And Natasha had seemed funny and friendly when you met her. You just couldn’t hate her.

“You deserve to be happy too,” you said quietly. Bucky looked up at you, and for once, there was no irritation or malice in his gaze. He had a thoughtful expression on his face, and it made your stomach flip again. Butterflies? You didn’t think you could handle getting butterflies.

“I guess so,” he said finally. “I’m getting there.” You held his eyes for a few seconds until he shook his head a little, like he was snapping himself out of a trance. “I don’t even know why I told you all that.” He got to his feet and moved past you, opening the bathroom door. “You don’t even like me.”

But as you watched him successfully beat Steve in a game of flip cup, argue good-naturedly with Tony over the future of nanotechnology, and cordially say hello to Bruce and Nat, you wondered if maybe he was wrong.

Maybe you did like Bucky. Maybe all of the arguing was just to keep things interesting, and maybe the only thing you wanted to do right now was go up to him and kiss him right on his stupid mouth.

Oh no. There was only one solution to this: you went back into the kitchen and refilled your drink.

When you woke up the next morning with a terrible hangover, you rolled over to face Sharon, who always crawled into your bed and snuggled with you when she was drunk. “Sharon. Hey.” She groaned. “Wake up.”

“What?” she mumbled, her face half-smushed into the pillow.

“I think I like Bucky.”

There was a pause. You waited for her to be surprised at this revelation, or offer you some advice that only a best friend could. Instead, she opened her eyes and squinted at you, looking utterly disgusted.

“Yeah. No shit.”

*****

“You came to this party with Rumlow?”

You turned around and saw Bucky Barnes of all people standing in the doorway, staring at you.

It had been a strange couple of weeks. After Bruce’s birthday party, you came to the unfortunate conclusion that you had feelings for Bucky Barnes. It was a particularly hard pill to swallow, since a) the two of you couldn’t go five minutes without fighting, and b) he would never in a million years like you back.

You tried to act normal whenever you were around him, but soon you found that just being near him made your heart beat faster than normal. Suddenly it was hard to even form coherent thoughts, much less speak. So, avoidance it was.

You’d sworn Sharon to secrecy, forbidding her to even tell Steve, which she wasn’t happy about. She was convinced the two of them would be able to work some matchmaking magic, but you knew better. Bucky was better suited for girls like Natasha, who were interesting and mysterious and fun. You were just an occasionally annoying presence, a friend of his best friend’s girlfriend. Nothing else.

If Bucky noticed you weren’t around as much, he never said anything. In fact, the two of you didn’t speak at all. Until tonight, at a party thrown by your friends Scott and Hope. You’d spent most of the night successfully avoiding him, but made the mistake of stepping out onto the empty balcony to get some air. Now he had you cornered.

You raised your eyebrows at him. “Theoretically, yeah, I did.”

“So you’re aware that he’s hooking up with some random girl in there?” Bucky asked, almost accusingly.

Brock Rumlow was, by all accounts, a scumbag. Sharon was always telling you how much Steve hated him. But he’d asked you to go to the party with him and you’d do anything to not look like a pathetic, pining loser. Except, of course, now you did, because Rumlow had ditched you to sleep with someone else.

You knew you should care, or at least pretend that you did, but you couldn’t find it in yourself. So you just shrugged, turning back to look over the balcony at all the drunk people stumbling and laughing through the streets.

There was silence, and you thought maybe he’d gone back inside. But suddenly he was right next to you. “What’s your deal?”

“My deal?”

“Yeah. You’ve been, like, weird lately.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, annoyed.

“Just—I don’t know. It feels like you’re avoiding me or something. Ever since Banner’s party.”

You finally turned to look at him head-on and immediately wished you hadn’t. You’d forgotten how beautiful he was, how wonderfully messy his hair was as it fell across his forehead, how flushed his cheeks were from the cold, how bright his eyes were. You had to force your brain to start working again.

“Isn’t that what you want?” you said after a second.

To your surprise, he let out a long sigh. “I thought it was,” he said. “But now I’m not sure.”

“Sorry, wait, what?” you said, holding up a hand, acutely aware of your heart starting to pound. “What does that mean?”

“You just—you drive me insane, okay?” Bucky said. “Like, you pissed me off the first night we met and you fight with me about literally every single thing and you’re so freaking stubborn—”

“Is there a point to this? Or are you just going to keep insulting me?” you interrupted.

“I’m not done!” Bucky said, sounding frustrated. “See, this is what I mean! You’re always just around, and you always seem to like everyone but me and—and then all of a sudden you stopped coming over, or you only come over when I’m not there, and now you’re here with Rumlow and you—you make me feel weird.”

“Weird?” you repeated.

“Yeah. Like—like my stomach is fluttering or something.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “I don’t know.”

“Are you trying to tell me that you like me?” you said, feeling like the wind had just gotten knocked out of you. There was just no way that was what he meant. It just couldn’t be.

“I . . . yeah,” Bucky said quietly, exhaling. “I think I am.”

For a second the two of you just stared at each other. You searched his face, looking for any sign of him joking, but couldn’t find it. His eyes never left yours, looking back at you unflinchingly. You swallowed. This was real. This was actually real.

“I think,” you said finally, “you should kiss me.”

Bucky didn’t need to be told twice. He slid over, leaning in to crash his lips against yours. You fisted one hand in his shirt while he cupped your cheek, pressing closer still. Everything else seemed to stop, and you didn’t care that it was freezing out, or that your lips were slightly chapped, or that Steve and Sharon were never going to let you hear the end of this. You were kissing Bucky after all these long months of so desperately wanting to.

And God, he was good at it, kissing you so deeply and thoroughly it made your knees feel a little weak. His warm hands ran down your torso, slipping beneath your jacket and shirt and rubbing the skin there. Part of you couldn’t help but be annoyed at the fact that you’d known Bucky for about six months now and had only just gotten around to kissing him now.

At last, he placed one more soft kiss on your lips before pulling away, his eyes sparkling in a way that you’d never seen before. He looked . . . happy. Really, genuinely happy. I did that, you thought to yourself, almost in wonder.

“Do you wanna get outta here?” Bucky asked, gesturing to everything around you. “I know it’s a little overdue, but maybe I can walk you home now.”

You laughed and nodded. “Yeah. That sounds great.” He held out his hand and you took it, liking the way your fingers fit between his. “Let’s go, Bucket.”

“It’s Bucky,” he corrected you, but he was smiling.

[pietrotheavenger]

voices

summary: when your soulmate sings, you can hear it.

pairings: au!bucky barnes x fem!reader, thor x steve

warnings: swearing, alcohol

a/n: it’s currently midnight and if you know me then you know i HATE revising my work. i wrote this in one sitting and i cannot be bothered to revise this. don’t be mean pls

bucky’s soulmate was always singing. always. he liked to think that she did it on purpose, to entertain him. he absolutely loved listening to her singing. he never listened to music because of her. he didn’t want to listen to something that wasn’t her. she made music into something special to him. he wanted to keep the songs that she sang to him a secret. he didn’t want to hear them on the radio. he learned new songs from her, all the time. but, sometimes her constant singing was inconvenient.

he was out getting coffee with one of his friends, sam. they were chatting when she started singing. bucky held up a finger and pointed to his ear. “she’s singing,” he whispered.

“it’s been too much, i’ve been on the side, and i’m waiting.”

“man, she’s always singing,” sam rolled his eyes.

“i swear she has the most beautiful voice i’ve ever heard. plus, i love this song,” the brunette responded, twirling his hair around his finger as he softly sang along.

“i’ve got a little time, maybe all night, if i’m patient.”

“you know what? maybe i’ll sing to my soulmate,” sam scoffed, and began singing. he crossed his arms over his chest as he sang some random pop song.

“what’s on your mind? i can never read you.”

the distant smile didn’t leave bucky’s face as he closed his eyes. he savored her voice. she faltered slightly when he began singing back to her, but continued on. he had his moments of singing, but they had never sung together before. it was a common thing between soulmates to do duets.

“i always leave you crying when we fight, but i don’t mean to.”

sometimes, soulmates dreamt of each other. he yearned to see her in his dreams. he knew that they didn’t have the connection that others had. one of his friends, natasha and her soulmate were always singing to each other. they developed their soulmate bond and she dreamt of her soulmate.

“no, love don’t come easy. especially when you’re loving me.”

bucky was itching to meet her. he had been waiting his whole life. he was ready. he already felt such immense love towards her just by hearing her singing. he melted on the inside every time she started up.

“it’s never enough for the both of us, so sorry. couldn’t have known it would ever be this hard.”

if he didn’t hear her sing at least once a day, he would panic. it was quite unusual, but he understood that sometimes she would get busy, or maybe she was feeling sick, or maybe sad. none of those thoughts were able to reassure him. in those rare cases, he would sing to her.

“we had it all but we lost and that’s our fault.”

he hoped that she liked his singing, and that it comforted her. throughout his childhood, his parents would always listen to frank sinatra, so that’s what he would sing to her. when he was done, she would sing back a few lines of the chorus to let him know she was there but not wanting to sing, or a whole song.

“i should be here waiting for you to answer my call. but i’m never giving up on what, i’ve been focusing on putting me first.”

his parents were soulmates and they would always sing frank sinatra to each other. he liked that he shared something so special to his parents, with his own soulmate. she didn’t know it, of course, but he still found it heartwarming.

“still could never see you with somebody else. i can’t even live with being by myself. that’s the part of me that really needs your help.”

“is she done yet?” sam questioned.

“no, hush,” bucky replied.

“lately, i haven’t been doing very well. that’s the difference between heaven and hell.”

“aren’t you singing to your girl?” bucky stopped his quiet singing to quickly ask his friend.

“i feel heaven when you’re here with me. i feel hell every time you leave.”

“she started singing, ‘shut up,’ to me,” sam grumbled. bucky let out a deep belly laugh.

“but i need to get you off of my back. i gotta get you off of my back.”

he had heard her giggle once. he believed it to be a mistake of the soulmate bond. he had also heard stories where the bond mistook laughter for music. her laugh sounded like little bells ringing. he knew that he shouldn’t love someone that he didn’t know, but he couldn’t help it. she was already so perfect.

“wished that we would never take it this far. here we are, going back and forth.”

some people had romantic relationships before they met their soulmate. bucky didn’t understand this. there’s one person specifically made for every person on the planet, why can’t they just wait to meet them? those flimsy relationships will be worth nothing to how someone feels when they’re with their soulmate.

“i hoped we would never make it this far. but now, i gotta find my worth.”

he truly wanted nothing more than to meet her. he wanted to feel complete. like a whole person. his parents had both said that when they were with each other, they felt at peace with themselves. he desired that with all of his being.

“she’s done,” bucky smiled. “i can’t wait to meet her. and i can’t wait for you to hear her singing.”

“don’t get ahead of yourself, barnes.”

-

if he didn’t know that the voice in his head was his soulmate, bucky would’ve wholeheartedly believed that his childhood best friend, steve, was his soulmate. there was no one who understood him quite like steve. they had been through everything together. but, alas, the voice in bucky’s head was feminine, and steve had met his soulmate, thor, in high school. it was steve and thor who dragged him out of the house on a friday night that was just like all the others. lately, all of his days seemed to bleed into one. he could feel himself edging towards a downward spiral. his friends could feel it, too.

“the only problem is i see you in colors that don’t exist,” she began singing while thor was speaking to bucky. he zoned out for a moment as she continued.

“in colors that don’t even exist, girl. i see the future in your eyes. i see my past and all my sins. i swear to god, i see god when you’re touching on my skin.”

“bucky? you there?” thor raised an eyebrow. he lifted his beer up to his mouth.

“sorry, she was singing to me,” he sheepishly apologized.

“it’s okay. i used to have to lay down every time steve sang to me,” thor gazed lovingly at his soulmate who was making conversation with the bartender.

“that bad, huh?” bucky joked. “where are we, anyway?” he asked, looking around. she began humming in his ear, and he tried his hardest to pay attention to the blond man in front of him.

“it’s a new karaoke bar! steve heard about it from his coworkers, i believe,” he replied. he stroked his beard before asking, “have you been to one before?”

bucky innocently shook his head, brown locks swaying back and forth. “i’ve seen them in movies, though.”

“you’ll have so much fun! we should do a duet,” thor insisted. “no, a trio.”

“i don’t know about that,” bucky laughed nervously.

just then, steve came over, handing bucky a beer. he gave thor a kiss and said, “what’re you lot talking about?”

“bucky agreed to doing a group performance!” thor exclaimed.

“actually-” the man in question began, but was cut off by his best friend.

“fuck yeah! what’s the game plan?” steve’s childish smile reminded bucky so much of their upbringing together, that he let himself get roped into the singing triad. he nursed his beer as his friends argued over a song. he ended up ordering two shoes of vodka and threw them back to accelerate his getting drunk process.

“thanks for joining us today, buck,” steve beamed. “i know that sometimes it’s hard for you to reach out when you need us, but we’re always here for you. i’m with you ‘til the end of the line, pal,” he put his hand on his shoulder.

bucky opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a shout from the stage. “hello new york!” a small brunette lady was the owner of the voice. she was clearly intoxicated as was her giggling friend, standing next to her. he was immediately transfixed by her friend. her lips were painted red and curved into the prettiest smile he’d ever seen. she wore a silk powder blue top which she tied in a knot at the top of her flattering black jeans. the top buttons of her blouse were undone, revealing her collarbones and allowing her to show off some layered necklaces. she teetered in a pair of forest green heeled boots, excitedly bouncing from one foot to another. “i am jane foster, and this is y/n y/l/n!” the original lady yelled into her microphone.

“hi, i’m y/n,” she smiled and waved, laughing. her word were slightly slurring together. bucky repeated her name to himself, under his breath.

“and we are,” jane began by herself but was joined by y/n for the last word, “*NSYNC!” the beginning chords of it’s gonna be me were being played.

“you might have been hurt, babe. that ain’t no lie!” jane sang very loudly. their group of friends near the stage cheered. y/n blew them a kiss before stumbling and regaining her balance and collapsing into giggles as jane continued through the song. “you’ve seen them all come and go, oh. i remember you told me that it made you believe in no man, no cry. maybe that’s why…”

y/n began singing with jane for the chorus and the minute he heard her voice, he got goosebumps. his soulmate sang right along in his head. “every little thing i do never seems enough for you. you don’t want to lose it again. but i’m not like them. baby, when you finally get to love somebody. guess what? it’s gonna be me.”

“wait a fucking minute,” he said to himself, his eyebrows drawing together.

she began her solo, “you’ve got no choice, babe. but to move on, and you know, there ain’t no time to waste. you’re just too blind to see but in the end, you know it’s gonna be me. you can’t deny so just tell me why.”

they went into the chorus for the second time and bucky jumped out of his seat and screamed into steve’s face. “that’s my fucking soulmate!” and pointed at the stage.

“are you serious?” steve gaped.

“yes!”

“justin or jc?”

“jc!”

“it’s our turn next!” thor yelled, grabbing both of their hands and pulling them through the bar to the side of the stage.

“that’s my soulmate,” bucky whispered as she took her bows and staggered off the other side of the stage before he was pushed onto it and handed a microphone. he held onto the microphone like he would die if he let go.

“how are we feeling!” steve howled. thor talked to whoever was in charge of the music on the side before jumping up. “we are steve,” the said man placed his hand on his chest before pointing to his best friend, who was looking quite like a deer in the headlights, “bucky!” he finally gestured to his soulmate, “and thor!” the music started up and the crowd screamed in recognition.

“i can’t stop this feeling deep inside of me. girl, you just don’t realize what you do to me,” steve and thor sang together. steve looked at bucky encouragingly, wrapping his arms around his shoulder as he shakily began singing, looking straight into the crowd and at her. “when you hold me, in your arms so tight. you let me know everything’s alright. i’m hooked on a feeling.”

she was chatting to one of her friends but when he started singing, she whipped her head to the stage, her eyes wide and her lips parted. they made eye contact for the first time and electricity passed between them. he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. he kept singing, just letting his mouth move. he didn’t know if he was singing the right thing, but by the look of joy on steve’s face, he knew he was doing something right. he let his gaze fall away from her before it flickered back. he drank her right up.

when their song was completed, they linked hands and bowed in front of the crowd. bucky practically jumped off of the stage at the first opportunity he got. she had rushed up him, grasping his arm. “did you hear me?” she asked.

“i can’t hear you, it’s too loud!” he yelled back.

she pulled him away from the stage, to the bar, before repeating her question. “did you hear me?” he nodded his head. he returned the question and she nodded back. “are you my soulmate?” her voice was so quiet that he wasn’t entirely sure if he heard her.

“only if you don’t mind me singing frank sinatra all the time,” bucky responded.

her face broke into a smile and she threw her arms around his neck. he wrapped his arms around her waist and held her tight. he deeply inhaled, savoring every moment. when she pulled away, he gingerly placed his hand on her cheek, slowly moving it to thread his fingers through her hair. he dipped his head down and whispered, “is this okay?” his breath was hot on her lips. she nodded. his lips met hers and for a moment, the universe burned white-hot.

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